( it's not just her. Steve is more than aware that this is not as seamless as he would have liked it to be. it's ... maybe whoever said that there could be too much of a good thing had a point. which sounds insane, how could he ever have too much of Nancy Wheeler? he's been daydreaming of being with her again for longer than he can really admit to himself. and now they are! and they're past the carefully metered amounts of affection. no more slow and steady and not too fast and focus on feelings, first. it's not like wanting her is gone, now that he can actually have her. in fact it's almost a little overwhelming, how much he wants her. so much he doesn't know where to start. how to touch her first. he is both intently aware of how she reacts to anything he does, and instantaneously easily lost in how good things feel. he can't commit to anything in his desperation to have everything. things that used to work either don't or seem to be surprising instead of sexy. is it because she doesn't like it anymore, when his thumb tilts into her mouth? or when his teeth tighten at her bare hipbone? or is it just that it's been so long since he (or anyone) touched her there, it's startling instead of arousing? it's impossible to tell.
so it's. awkward. really awkward! what the hell is wrong with him? this isn't exactly an area he's used to fumbling in. not with Nancy, not really with any other girl he's been with. so what is his excuse, exactly?
his head drops on the mattress, hair already destroyed from Nancy putting a fist in it. that happened somewhere on the interstate, even. pretty sure the check in lady hadn't looked at him so much as she'd stared at his obvious sex-mussed hair. and they hadn't even had sex, that's the worst part! Nancy is trying not to laugh and failing miserably, hiding it behind the back of his hand instead of hers. which is not very effective, since he can feel the huff of breath against his skin. he's a little embarrassed and a lot frustrated, squinting his eyes closed for a moment. like he's in a time out and some coach in the back of his brain is shouting plays and he's just trying to keep up. )
Hey. I'm rusty, too. ( it's... well, it hasn't been 17 (...18??? ? ? oh god, is it closer to 19? 20 now?) months for him, but, he hasn't been seeing anyone since his ill-fated night with Brenda. and they didn't exactly fool around after that basketball game. the compliment sinks in a few sentences late, tugs down the frustrated glower into something softer. a stupid little hint of a smile, and jesus he shouldn't be that easy, huh? but considering there's still a bakers dozen bat bite scars all over him like the world's ugliest racing stripes, that Nancy can manage to call him hot without a pause or hesitation, like there's a little caveat in there somewhere? really does it for him, actually.
Steve pulls his hand from where it's twined in her hands, spreads it instead against one of her bare breasts. tweaks her nipple in the world's worst punishment, propping himself up on an elbow and looking down at Nancy's flushed skin and focusing on they were really here, somehow, instead of getting lost in the flurry of needing and wanting her so much he's out of his goddamn mind. ) My excuse? You're laughing. All these goddamn giggles, Nance, what if my dick gets shy?
( he's full of it, somehow the giggles have done nothing at all to turn him off. she's not laughing at him, she's just so ridiculously happy. even though he's totally fumbling in the endzone, over here. he can't be that mad at a few giggles, he just can't. he'll still attempt to guilt her about it, though. not that the guilt trip lands very when when he leans down to kiss her again a second after. even though they've kissed so many times already he's lost count. his lips are sore, hinting towards bruising at being a little too greedy with putting his mouth on hers. it doesn't help find direction in how to seal the deal, here, but it doesn't hurt either. kissing her is a good safety in the storm, to focus up. manage a little more honest answer to the question. Steve can't manage to pull properly back to say it, though that might be more of a reluctance to look her in the eye thing. ) It's not our first. But it is. You know? I don't... I want it to be good.
( perfect is a pretty high bar. but good? that's fair. that's not shooting too far. good. nothing to regret, if it's good. it's gotta at least be good. )
[ she is watching him closely at first, even if she hasn't stopped giggling, because she's pretty confident he won't take her amusement as an actual insult, but she still needs to be sure. she's ready to immediately squash any sign of that very subtle, but somehow still almost squirming discomfort he's gotten very good at quickly covering up before anyone notices it. she's pretty sure it's kind of like how she tends to flinch ( or.. wince ) when someone starts flirting with a topic she'd rather not talk about. a not-so-little, low-key-high-key tell.
luckily it seems she's in the clear, though she can't help the look she gives him when he insists that he's rusty too, because... really? but he doesn't give her too long too dwell on it, or even comment on it, because- well, she's pretty sensitive everywhere at the moment? so when he takes his hand back to deliver that ruthless punishment, her laugh peters off into a sound that's slightly pouty, before she even manages the expression to go with it.
... only for it to bubble up into another laugh. she was already shifting closer to him as soon as he started to sit up, though the hand she braced on his hip to help her get there suddenly has a goal, once he brought up how her giggling might affect him. ]
Hm? Oh, I really don't think we need to be worried about that. [ not that her hand ever reaches that goal, because he kisses her first, and maybe later on in their weekend getaway she'll remember how to multitask? but right now her ability to feel him up with any sense of direction has been shoved to the back burner, in favor of kissing him back in a way that's very deliberately soft. it's a complete contradiction to how she's kissed him up until this point - like she had been actively chasing that tingling, bruised feeling on her lips at the start ( she definitely was ) - but she doesn't want to rush by this one. and it just so happens to work in his favor that she hasn't decided she's quite done kissing him yet even once he adds on that last thought, so she tips her head to the side to kiss the corner of his mouth, then his cheek, instead of settling back again. ]
But it is, in a way. I get what you mean. I definitely get it. [ she picks her head up again, perfectly poised for another smooch, but she brushes her nose against his instead, like maybe nuzzling him will help her get a better handle on how keyed-up she is right now. ... it doesn't really work, but... an effort was made, and she thinks that's what's important. ] It will be good, though. I know it. I promise. [ when she does sit back again, she scoots up towards the headboard, then she reaches up to nudge his shoulder, wanting him to lay back again basically so she can stretch out and slink up along his side until she's basically draped over him completely, except for the way she's positioned her forearm on the bed to hold herself up over him. ] Now you know I would never, ever tell you to go easy on me, or go slower, because that's the last thing I want. Please don't do that. [ she grins, leaning up to nuzzle his cheek before pressing a kiss there. her hand slides from its spot mid-torso up to his collarbones so she can trace her fingers along both of them, back and forth. ] But- I might need a second to, mm, get used to things again? How good it feels, how good you feel, like, your hands. Just about anywhere, to be honest. Like... I do still like it when you touch my lips. Love it, actually. It just feels really good, almost too good, so it was hard to stay still. [ she's back to pressing kisses along the back of his jaw, then up a little higher, so she can catch his earlobe between her teeth. ] So just... don't give me a chance to get shy, yeah? I trust you. And I promise not to be shy if I don't like something. But I doubt we'll run into anything like that.
( it is different when she kisses him, this time around. sweeter, softer. a little less manic and spastic, not that either of those things were bad. it feels a little safer to make a confession like that in a sprinkling of sweet as sugar kisses. Steve doesn't. love. being vulnerable. who the fuck does! is he better at it, than he used to be? yes! does he enjoy crawling into his brain meat and admitting some part of him is still a little horrifically terrified that he's going to fuck this up somehow? no, not at all. so a storm of sweet little nothing presses of her lips makes it a little easier.
I really don't think we have to be worried about that. he's probably going to still worry about it, at least a little bit. that's a small relief that Nancy isn't worried, though.
she nuzzles up against his face like a needy cat and Steve huffs a laugh, hand reaching up to curve around her jaw to stroke the overheated apple of her cheek with her thumb. he's strangely lost in how to Do This, which isn't really the Steve Harrington MO. it's just there's no How To Rekindle With Your First Love, For Dummies. and even if there was there wouldn't be a chapter on how to navigate around shared trauma and dead best friends in alternate universe versions of your pool. he used to know the deal. how to be romantic. how to be flirty, how to hit the right tone, how to be charming and smarmy and get what he wanted. if they were just trying to fuck around, here, he knows all the beats to that particular venture.
it's just... different. with Nancy. it has always been different, with Nancy.
nuzzling does, and doesn't, help with how keyed up and everything everywhere all at once he's feeling right now. the reassurance helps, even if it isn't exactly a cure all for fixing it. Nancy shifts away and not really knowing the Plan, it is just gut instinct to audibly voice his discontent. moan and whine like a kid that got refused the treat they didn't actually deserve. it is a lot to commit to, following her lead. slowing down. though, they kept veering too fast in less than ideal directions, so, maybe this is better. a clear and concise picture of what Nancy wants, that's better too. Steve scooches back the distance she put in, keeping his head on the mattress and focusing on her words instead of her skin for about two seconds. he can do that. ) Shy, ( Steve repeats, somewhat incredulous. his breath might hitch, just a little, at the knick of Nancy's teeth. ) I don't get how the most beautiful girl in the world could get shy.
( maybe that might come across as a line. it's been used as one, probably before the dawn of time, douchebags were using that one. Steve really does mean it, though. some things change, and sometimes things stay exactly the same. Nancy's hair is shorter, the skin under her eyes is a little darker, the lines by her mouth tilt downward like she's spent more of her life worried than smiling. but she's still the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. no contest, it's not even fair really.
Steve's listening, though, he is. don't let her get shy. give her time to adjust to how things feel. his adam's apple bobs at the wildly hot breath curling around his ears as the cords in his throat tighten at the thousandth pang of wet hot want tingling through every inch of him, pulsing in his desperate dick. it's that easy, Nancy's breath in his ear. ) F-fingers. We. Could. Do fingers. First. ( inside of her, wrapped around him, see where that leads them. faster, or slower, more, or less, just some relief to clear their heads? doesn't matter how it ends up, more that it is a place to start. when there's so many ways he wants her it really does feel impossible to just pick one. )
[ for all her talk, nancy isn't actually super confident in her ability to keep this up for very long. the whole... not exactly slowing things down, but dialing back and trying to put a little more thought into it- thing? it's taking a lot of effort as it is, because her arousal is kind of making her feel like a live-wire, buzzing and hyperaware and hypersensitive and god she already wants to go back to trying to just rush through the stumbling and climb back up onto his lap so she can feel the perfect way he fills her when bottomed out like now, because she's already feeling so damn out of her mind, and she thinks she's probably ready for that. y'know, physically. maybe? like, maybe she can handle the stretch of him easier than she used to. they won't know unless she tries, right?? ... no, contrary to what her mother's saucy novels suggest, ( what? she was curious. ) rushing to sit on his dick and grind herself on him until the stretch feels more sexy than ouchie really only works out in the moment. and considering the whole plan is to make a weekend of this, she'd rather not leave herself feeling sore so early on. so! she can wait. she can.
... although really, the fact that steve might actually be struggling with it even more is definitely making it easier for her, in a way. which might sound mean, but she's pretty sure that's just how they work, when it comes to this. although right now it's less of a push-pull, and more like there's a scale that's determined to stay balanced, or something. or maybe it's just that she likes feeling like she's in control sometimes. either one.
and it does sound like a line, but some part of her knows it's not, so the smile she presses against his neck is as genuine as anything else she's feeling right now. that wasn't quite what she meant when she brought up feeling shy, but she's not about to point that out. she can feel his pulse thrumming under her tongue as she gives him a slow kiss there, biting down and sucking just barely long enough to leave a light mark, for now, before sitting up over him again, palm flat to his chest now, fingers tapping out a little pattern. ]
Oh, I mean, I'll- definitely need that first. Your fingers? Um. Yes. [ she's actually super frustrating that she can feel her cheeks grow hot in a way that obviously has nothing to do with how turned on she is. so embarrassing. she shifts against him, hiking her knee up higher so her thigh is crossed over his at a higher point, slowly, considering it puts her knee in range of his dick and that's not exactly the vibe she wants to set for this weekend, no. she kisses him again, smiling against his lips ] But you sound so tortured, baby. It's not at the thought of my tiny hands, is it? That it won't be enough until I'm ready for you? [ her smile turns goofy, although she at least manages to keep her laughter just in her tone. she's positive it's not actually a concern he has, considering she's pretty aware of how much he likes having her small hands on him. particularly there. and honestly, she does, too. ] Because it will be, I promise. [ she sits up more as lifts her hand off his chest, blushing more, somehow, though she still refuses to look away even as she licks up along the flats of her index and middle fingers. then takes them both in her mouth, getting them more wet that way. she knows it's not nearly enough to help with what's... definitely going to be a dry handjob to start, but! she knows it's going to add to how it feels now that she's reaching down his body to teasingly run her fingertips down his length, with a slow teasing rub just under the head, first. she grins ( just grins, there were no embarrassing whimpers or grunts accompanying it ) when she feels his cock jump towards her hand, then presses it down against him then with her full palm ] I promise.
( not what she meant? well, fine. he's doing his best with the three braincells that are still holding on, here. to Steve, it makes complete sense. Nancy has often been a little shy in her own skin, like they can't want each other too much. it had been a slow progression, to get her more comfortable about kissing in the halls at school, to experimenting more with how they touched each other. hell, the first time he got to second base Nancy had laid back in bed perfectly still, like it was a completely solo endeavor to have a boy's hand up her shirt. even when she got bolder about what she wanted and how often she wanted it, she could occasionally get in her head about it. like wanting and needing too much might be somehow inappropriate.
probably, her boyfriend standing around as his knucklehead friends tagged the theater with how slutty she was, didn't help a lot in Nancy feeling self assured in her sexual desires.
they're not at the same place they used to be, though. and understanding exactly where they are now isn't as easy as a paint by numbers, either. Nancy's so familiar, under his hands. it's nostalgic and reassuring, all at once. and yet she's different, too — breasts a little more full, definitely more sensitive. her thighs are fuller, more muscular, which is super goddamn sexy, actually. he's been thinking about them pressed at his ears since about the time Nancy showed up for Saturday morning hangover cartoons in the world's tiniest sleep shorts, even though they were definitely supposed to just be platonic friends back then. he remembers her and he's relearning her, all at once.
back in the day, they used to have about three consistent positions, and most of them involved Nancy underneath him. and while missionary is never gonna be a bad choice, it's a little exciting that this Nancy is more self assured. nipping at his neck and spreading her leg over his thighs, licking her palm and staring him dead in the eye as she reaches between them to touch his cock.
not for the first time, to be fair. she'd had her hands so vigorously in his pants the second they got in the door they'd been at imminent risk of zipper burn. the touch hadn't been bad, just sort of like throwing gas on a fire that was already kinda out of control. this was better, somehow. stoking the flames, sure, but not wildly out of hand. she's maybe talking too much, if she expects him to keep up and be funny and flirty about it. ) Baby, ( Steve says, dazedly, hands landing on Nancy's thighs and shifting to her ass to heft her more completely in his lap, because that's just easier. no, he's not going to be inside her, yet. but despite the risk of getting in each other's way, they're closer. so of course Steve prefers it. )
Yeah, I'm tortured. Not by your hands, mmmmmmnope your hands are good. ( his hips are shifting toward the shallow strokes of her palm around his dick, which is perfect confirmation of his words. as if the moan mid sentence hadn't been obvious enough. ) Tortured is right, though. Do you... fuck. Do you know how hard it is not to come right now? Just like this, in your tiny, perfect h-hand. ( and hopefully she realizes why that would be bad. there's so many better ways for him to come, as much as he likes her hand that's not where he wants to finish, and he's so tweaked out and desperate it feels like maybe that's all it will take.
so, in the interest of giving her what she needs (she did say that, right? he's pretty sure, it was just before she called him baby and his brain fizzled out for about 15 straight seconds), his knuckles walk up the inside of her thigh and his fingers trace through her folds. he needs to soak up every inch of her arousal to help the first finger slip inside of her. and even that is tormenting, feeling her tight and clenched around him. tormenting, but empowering too. because she's so hot and wet and desperate for him, and the reminder of that makes him mouthy (as it usually does). ) Wanting you this bad is torture. Yeah. Isn't it? That it's my finger inside you, and not my cock?
[ steve moves her and her laugh sounds more like a moan than she meant it to, but she's not too worried about it. for now, her hand is firmly planted in the pillow behind his head, just for the sake of having some control of her position over him, making sure she doesn't shove her shoulder in the way of either one of them being able to reach between them. luckily it doesn't take much effort to shift her weight so they don't actually end up getting in each other's way, either. not yet, at least, while she's still focused on it. it feels good, holding herself up over him like this.
for the obvious reasons, but partly because... in the past, she was always pretty quick to hide her face against his chest, or his neck, behind her own hands, or the bend of her elbow- sometimes even pressing her forehead to his was a way of hiding, like maybe it was too much, watching him when they were fooling around. especially if he was watching her right back. but now it seems she's ditched that habit. not that her eyes have been fully focused on his this whole time, but she's definitely watching. and she can't exactly do that if she's settled on top of him completely. just... mostly.
it's sort of impossible not to clock the effort it's taking for him to talk to her, and it probably shouldn't make her smile, because that's probably rude, and it definitely should make her laugh, but it sounds like more of a breathy grunt than anything humorous, so. joke's actually on her? still, while she had been moving her hand in time with the movement of his hips up until that point, he mentions the threat of coming like this, and that has her grip tightening fast as she shakes her head, hums an ] Nhn-hnn. [ of protest, followed by a whispered, rushed, but very sincere plea of ] No, no, no, don't, don't come. [ she huffs, then shifts up to kiss him again, which just has her talking against his lips when she doesn't pull away to add ] That's not where I want you to come.
[ so, she's obviously aware that talking about him coming in any context is dirty, but somehow she didn't anticipate how dirty it would feel saying that, specifically, which is why she ends up making what could only be described as a panicked whine before she presses her lips against his in a nope, we're not talking again yet type of kiss, immediately after. it's actually barely a kiss, at first. she may as well have been pressing her palm against his mouth- she's just not letting him talk. but eventually she eases off with a sigh, kissing him softly, but still pretty damn filthy because eventually is when she feels his hand between her thighs, and oh-
fuck.
silly her for thinking she really was going to keep any real sense of control right now, just because she happened to start giving him a handy before he did. wow. who knew she could be so completely delusional?
she leans down to rest her forehead against his, and this time it's still not in an attempt to hide. it's honestly just self preservation, because the press of his palm against her once he slides his finger inside of her is, embarrassingly, more than enough to make properly holding herself up over him nearly impossible. ]
Yeah. [ she nods, kisses him again ] Fuck, yes, it is. I- I want it so fucking bad, Steve. [ she's moving her hand on him again, at least, slower, but with a grip that's a little tighter, and definitely distracted. she's just clearly paying more attention to his hand than hers now.] Can't yet, though. Still too tight. Right? [ look, she knew that was dirty too, but it's true, okay! and it's not really rude of her to smile this time, but she still tries to hide it by nipping at his bottom lip instead of lifting up so he can see it. although she's pretty sure he probably felt her smiling against his mouth first, yeah ] Don't get me off like this either, yeah? I want you to- oh, [ she squirms a bit, inching onto her knees a little more ] The first time you make me come has to be on your cock. Please?
( it's becoming a very clear thing, that moving Nancy around — in the middle of sex or just in the middle of making out — really does something for her. Steve is pretty sure that's a new-ish thing, or, a thing that has only gotten more potent over time. she used to smack at him for lifting her around at school, but, it was a smack-then-kiss sort of thing, so it was pretty apparent she didn't hate it or anything. still, there just wasn't that much lifting and moving her around. he's stronger now, and more importantly more confident. demanding, even. if he wants her up and over or under then it is just easier to grab her and put her there. it is not as if Nancy won't do the same, in different ways. pushing him down or dragging him around by his hair. it's just a delightful bonus that Nancy seems to enjoy when he moves her around so much.
her palm being tighter might not be better, on the desperately trying for this not to be over too soon front? only, at the same time, it is better. it's not like he hasn't gotten off since Nancy Wheeler. he has. it's not even as if he hasn't had someone else jack him off, either. mostly it's been him touching himself, which isn't quite the same — frankly, none of the girls he saw about as long as it took to fool around didn't feel half as overwhelming as this does, either. it shouldn't feel so much different, like it has been so absolutely excruciatingly long, since somebody else has touched him like that. and yet it does. he can jack off multiple times a day and it still doesn't feel as good as Nancy does, palm soft and fingers curved just right around him as she works him, shaft to not quite the tip. Steve groans a desperate and delighted noise, all at once, shifting up to kiss her and finding he can't quite reach her the way he wants, so he falls back again disappointed. okay, one flaw to having Nancy on top of him like this. she's a lot harder to reach, as far as kisses are concerned. )
See? Torture. Fucking... goddamn torture. ( he laughs, though, so, how torturous can it really be? no, she's right, in her hand isn't how he wants to finish, either. he's got all sorts of places that'd be better, though deciding between her mouth and buried in her cunt was impossible to pick until she says it, like that. jesus christ. ) I feel it, baby. God you feel so — ( yes, tight, tight is right. more than that though. for all their fumbling and occasional headbutting, it isn't that they've completely lost the mood. she's wet and vibrant under his fingers, coats his knuckles as they sink and stretch inside her. he knows she wants it, there's not a question. )
Not like this, ( Steve agrees, heady, even as he lets his fingers sink a little deeper and spread inside her, just to remind her what it feels like. it's not that he's been doubting, that it's been awhile. he can tell, though, by the way she feels. taking a little more slowly but surely. it almost makes him see stars thinking about what she'll feel like when his cock is inside of her, instead of his fingers. ) Inside you. With you just like this. You're just... ( there's one hand inside of her, sure, but the other aimlessly strokes along her hip and up her side, palm shifting to lay flat against her stomach and trace upwards as he just looks at all the bare skin he has to admire. he's just never gonna get tired of looking at her, apparently. it's been years, and it's still a marvel. maybe the fact it has been years and yet, here they are, makes it even more incredible. she's gotta feel it coming before he says it, and maybe he needs to crack into that thesaurus that Nancy uses for sexting, to find a better word. until then, the one he's got works. ) So goddamn beautiful, Nance.
( again, not being in easy kiss distance is hell. half sitting does mean he can crane forward to press his mouth between her breasts for half a glancing second, before the movement of her hand and his fingers needing to stretch inside of her means he has to fall back again. )
[ so the first time she and steve dated, one of nancy's absolute favorite things ever was the way he used to start off at least half of every single kiss they shared by pressing smile to her lips first. it was cheesy and endearing and sometimes it would make her laugh, but never in a way that had her retreating from it. which just came to mind because she can't seem to stop herself from doing it to him right now. well, in the brief moments he manages to get himself into kissing range, of course. she's not exactly intentionally keeping that distance, but she's not doing anything to correct it, either. not yet, at least. the way he's touching her is making her feel weak in the knees, pretty literally, but she keeps herself upright. as much as she can. so she can watch him, and try to focus on what she's doing. ..but mostly watch him.
even if it means the flush on her cheeks is making its way down her neck, just from how overwhelmed she feels because of- basically everything she's feeling right now. the way he's watching her, that's definitely part of it, and how even feeling other hand just slide up her body is making her feel just shy of dizzy, too. how she can feel it getting easier to handle the stretch of his fingers, and that she's wet enough that she can feel it every time he sinks into her up to the knuckle. fuck.
hearing him call her beautiful when she's pretty sure she looks slightly feral, holding herself over him with her hand moving over his cock, when all she really wants to be doing is bounce on his lap until she forgets her own name- that's pretty overwhelming, too. to the point where her hips keep rocking towards his hand every time she can feel him start to slide his fingers out of her, even if she knows he's going to push them right back in. she rubs her thumb just under the head of his cock, the same way she kinda really wants to be rubbing her tongue there instead, if it didn't mean he wouldn't be able to keep touching her like this. but she's way too into this, too into him, to worry about keeping some level of chill, at this point.
she huffs a laugh at the way his brows are pinched together when he lays flat under her again, just enough to make it obvious he's getting frustrated with not being able to kiss her. ]
Just a little more. [ is actually her attempt at being practical - asking for more time to relax around his fingers, not wanting to rush. although honestly it sounds more like she's pleading him for more. which isn't exactly wrong either. her shoulder shifts as she claws into the pillow under his head, already annoyed with not being able to touch him with both hands the way he can. ] Shit, I missed you so much. You- You're so- [ she whines, then leans down to kiss him again, slow, hips still moving in time with her hand on his dick. she actually manages to stay focused on making out with him for a decent bit of time, right up until his fingers curl a certain way, deep inside ] --that, oh, keep - mmhm, yes, yes - fuck, that's - feels really good, you feel so good. [ to the point where she might be a little loopy from it, yeah. ]
( it's just another level of not getting it exactly right. only instead of trying to make it work at 30% they've upped their success to 60%, 65% even. if he had just sat up a little straighter, if he'd pressed his back to the headboard before she clambered on top of him, it'd be easy to kiss her. face and eyebrows and shoulders and clavicle and breast, fucking anywhere, and all of those places seem like perfectly reasonable places to put his mouth. he'd like to swipe the salt out from her collarbone with his tongue and suck a mark on whatever part of her breast he can reach, and he just can't. it's user error, it's a learning opportunity, that her riding him when he's barely propped up on his elbows just isn't enough freedom.
at least not this time, when the anticipation and greediness and molten wet demanding desire has completely snowballed on him. could he lay back and watch her fuck him, in the future? yes. probably. oh, definitely — and he's daydreamed it plenty already. this time, though, it's just not enough for him to watch her, he wants to feel and have and get lost in her, as much as she wants to feel and have and get lost in him. striking the balance is still an awkward dance, while they're remembering the steps. but the difference between 30% and 65% is it is more right than wrong and he can't functionally handle the idea of stopping to readjust and come at it again with constructive criticism in mind.
a little more. he misses the memo that she means time, but honestly same difference in the end. more as in another finger inside her is about the same as more time, isn't it? because now she has to adapt to two, a little closer to the girth she has her palm wrapped around. she seems to flutter around his knuckles like even her sex is starting to anticipate what they're building towards, tight around him as the sensation is new and open and welcoming as she gets used to it, as his fingers move in and out, deeper and intent on spreading as much of her as he can before she finally fits on top of his cock. it's only fair, it's not like he isn't aching for the next step, too — dick weeping a little across Nancy's knuckles, making each path of her palm a little more slick than the last.
there's a shine of the teamwork they used to have, that he sees her leaning down to kiss him and he manages to prop himself high enough to reach, without bashing their mouths together with the uncomfortable clack of teeth as reward for being too overeager. just get close, meet her in the middle, let her come to him. it's not difficult science, not really. it's just impossible not to be overeager, when he's been wanting and missing her for... fuck, he doesn't like to put numbers on it, but... a long time. if he's honest, it's been longer than her dry spell with Jonathan. he couldn't own it, back then, when it felt so pathetic to still be so hung up on a girl that had moved on. he knows now why every girl he saw after Nancy just didn't work out, why none were worth tolerating long distance or forgiving a preference for country music or accepting that they were more of a cat person than a dog person. it wasn't even their fault that they couldn't compare to Nancy Wheeler, because truly nobody ever has. she's always been his one, and pretending she wasn't only lasted as long as it had to.
it's hard to smile into this kiss, but there's still a faded hint of one before he groans at the combination of her muttering and the way she's fucking his fingers and the way she's tightly curled around the base of his cock as she feels it all, not offering more and maybe that's for the best because if he gets much more he might spill all over her hand and these sheets instead of making it inside of her. ) Fuck. Fuck. Jesus, Nancy, you're so-— ( he's not sure how to end that sentence, actually. with two fingers curled inside of her, he can rub at her clit with the pad of his thumb. it's playing dirty, frankly, but sometimes you've got to be in it to win it. Nancy might be afraid she'll implode if he gives her any more, but as far as he's concerned he's pretty sure the more he gives her the easier it'll be when it comes down to it. and he's running out of patience, he's only human. ) I need you so bad, baby. I'm losing my... my goddamn mind. I want my cock inside you, you're so goddamn tight.
[ nancy's breath catches when she feels the way he's moving his hand between her thighs, locks her elbow so it doesn't buckle as she feels two fingers rub at her entrance before pressing in deep. it's not that it's too much, it's not even technically a lot, she knows, but it's a lot. it's enough that she slows the way her hips were rolling against his palm, taking a second to just feel it. the stretch, and the way he's being careful about it, without being gentle. thank god. they might be relearning these things about each other, but she's glad he remembers that much. that sometimes when she's worked up, certain things can make her go from impatient in a good, needy way, to impatient in a bad, annoyed way. and she's pretty sure steve would know exactly how to coax her back over that line if something did throw her off, but it's better to not have to deal with it at all.
all that said, she just realized the hand she has wrapped around his dick stopped moving at some point, which makes her just about the biggest hypocrite in the world, doesn't it? not that he seems to be feeling that "bad, annoyed impatient" right now... but still!! and it's clear it was especially rude of her when that first pull up his length leaves her palm more slick than she was expecting, clues her back into how he's feeling just as caught up in this as she is, and before she can stop herself, she carefully drops her face to look down between them. she groans at the sight of him in her hand, the head flushed a darker red than it was not too long before, leaking for her. she circles her loose fist just around the head of him then, fingers rubbing along the underside, and she knows it's probably more than a little filthy of her to just- watch like that, even moreso when she hears herself make an embarrassingly needy whining sound in her throat, but she couldn't actually care less, at the moment.
she looks back up at him, shakes her head to get her hair out of her face, and pulls in a breath to talk- right in time with the pad of his thumb finding her clit and rubbing just right, so all she manages to say is ] Oh-! [ her arm does finally buckle when the way his thumb starts slipping circles makes her tremble, and it's a slow movement, rather than a sudden drop, but luckily she has enough presence of mind to direct her weight to one side instead of straight down. her forehead rests against his chest, back arched, panting harshly until she regains enough sense to pick her head back up to look at him again. well, like. she tries. she's trying. ]
Yeah? You need me? [ if her next exhale sounds a little bit like a laugh.. don't worry about it. she just knows it's ridiculous of her to try and tease him when she has to talk between pressing kisses to his chest because she can't seem to hold herself up properly again yet. but she's not all that worried about it. ] I need you, too. Fuck. M'ready, I can- Yeah, fuck, I'm so ready.
[ she's more focused on inching her knees further apart, body dropping a little lower in the process, closer to his. which definitely puts her in the way of what he's doing, but she's not actually capable of thinking that far into things right now. ... although luckily she's not so far gone that she forgets - ]
--Wait, oh, Steve, whuh, Steve. Condom. Where's my-? [ she grunts after another swirl of steve's thumb on her clit makes her hips rut forward, then she laughs, pushes herself to sit up properly again, and pulls her hand away from his cock so she can cover his hand that's moving between her thighs instead, slowly pulling away. ] C'mon, c'mon, c'mon. I'll be back. Two seconds. Stay right here, don't move. [ she dips down to give him a kiss, too quick for her liking, but only because she doesn't want too get distracted. she shivers from the sudden chill of not being all up in his space anymore, but! she's determined! gonna move this along! ] Mm, actually, maybe scoot back? [ her eyes flick up over him, toward the headboard. because yeah, there will be no more struggling for kisses past this point, thank you!!
she's a little wobbly on her feet when she gets off the bed, but she doesn't let that slow her down from padding over to her bag and bending down to rifle through it. she's quick to find the little box, still sealed in clear cellophane - brandy new! - though it takes her a second of fucking around with said cellophane before it finally breaks and she can tear it all off. whatever! the box is coming with her as she hops back up onto the bed and settles on her knees next to him, too impatient to spend more time not touching him than she needs to. even if right now it's just her knee nudged into his thigh. the only problem is that because she's trying to rush, it's taking her longer to actually open up the little foil package, fingers slipping. too horny to function, it seems. ] Oh, come on.
Oh yeah, ( he says, like he fell straight out of a porno, or worse a Kool-Aid commercial, but goddamn it. he does need her. needs her physically, because she's always made his hairs stand on end and his dick ache in the good way and made that pit in his stomach so pent up and tight that when it's over it feels more like they ran a marathon than a simple fuck. and more than that too, he just — he feels like more of the person he wants to be, when Nancy is around. he's not even sure why, that she makes him push harder and try more. to deserve her is the fucked up answer, but it's more like — she manages to see a version of him that he wants to be. and can be, if he tries. he's closer to that version that he's ever been, yeah, true. it doesn't mean he needs her less after the fact.
it's like getting this close to finishing a puzzle and there's just one piece missing. knowing what goes there is fucking hell, too, because you really know what it's like and you can picture it there just fine but you just can't make do with anything else. it has to be the right piece. Nancy has always been his right piece, as cheesy and stupid as that sounds. for awhile he wondered if he just wasn't her right piece, which was depressing, but believable. it's a little soon to be confident, that he can be that missing piece that makes everything right for her. he's ... he's definitely starting to hope on a maybe, though. he's gonna try his fucking hardest to be that piece no matter what.
his head is too blurry to ask questions and verify when Nancy announces she's ready. it doesn't feel like they spent long with his fingers buried in her. that said, Nancy has never been the type to say she's ready when she's not. it never works out to doubt Nancy, either. even if she's just shoving ahead and figuring it out as she goes, it's better to figure it out with her than it is to try and change her mind. ) Nancy, ( is all Steve manages against the kiss that is supposed to satisfy him in the interrim, especially as her hand gets a little tighter-faster in her fervor to get things moving. which feels so good! and then she's just gone. he makes a guttural noise, like a goddamn caveman, or Steve Carell after he got his chest forcefully waxed, just to be deprived of her. what the fuck. what the fuck! a hand even tries to chase after her, buried momentarily in the sweat-damp mess of her curls before she gets too far away for even that to fetch a condom.
shit. right. yup. they need that, don't they. it is part of the older-and-wiser upgrade. Steve is your average guy, and absolutely prefers sex without a condom. but, despite somewhat shameful conversations about a big family one day — one day is not today. and a condom is required to keep that a in-the-future sort of situation. he does take the opportunity to fix the positioning misstep as suggested, settling his back against the bedframe, head loosely hanging as he watches Nancy slink around. there might be some merits to distance, because honestly he's not sure he's ever really seen her like this. there was always sheets, or, cover of darkness, or clothes, something in the way. Nancy in her naked glory, wild hair and flushed cheeks and her perky breasts alert and at attention, nipples hard — and even a little blushed from his mouth all over them. best yet, the wet shine of her arousal seeping down her thighs, arousal he caused, want for him slippy-sliding down her leg... yeah, okay, he can handle distance for ten seconds or so. worth it!
they should really have clawed that box open before clothes came off. more constructive criticism for next time. open that shit immediately on purchase from now on. even though watching Nancy frustratedly tear into it like an animal was kinda hot, truth be told.
really, Steve should let Nancy alone as she crawls back into bed. let her focus on the condom so they can get to the part where their bodies are working together, finally putting all this want and need somewhere it can see some satisfaction. he doesn't, though. the second she's near enough he leans back into her space, pulling her hair away from her neck to suck and kiss and bite along her throat like a horny vampire. and his hands sneak around her to knead her ass, because what, was he supposed to just sit here? do nothing??? not a chance. and it's just thoughtful placement, really. the second the condom is on he can drag her back into his lap, and then she can sink on top of him and they'll both see stars and finally stop missing each other, already. )
[ his hand in her hair and his teeth on her neck send a full-body tremble through her, one that has her hands momentarily pausing in their work to open that wrapper. but luckily, as usual, nancy's determination can't be beat. because even as she fights to keep her eyes open and she tips her head for him, the way he's touching her is enough to make her brain go a little syrupy again, which just helps her slow down instead of sort of frantically fumbling. it's kinda working in their favor.
her nose scrunches when her thumb slips against lubricated rubber, but good, finally, shit. she doesn't try to move away from him, not a chance, not even a tiny bit, but she does roll her head forward instead of to the side so she can watch what she's doing. and maybe it's been a while, but there's no fumbling with this part, like she's being tested on her knowledge of the textbook rules for safe sex 101, how to put on a condom. ..well like, okay, giving him a few slow tugs with a tight grip isn't exactly textbook, but y'know what? it was actually literally impossible to resist touching him more before rolling the condom down.
fuck, he's so hot. she's so into him that it might actually become an issue, moving forward. like, how is she ever going to find the willpower or motivation to do basically anything besides fool around with her boyfriend, ever again? so of course she's not about to call him out for his porn star voice, or the lack of subtlety in his reaction to what they're doing, because she's not being subtle either. the filter that was already paper thin is gone now. who the hell has the spare energy for that? not nancy, obviously, because she's really about to lose it, and all it took was feeling the tight resistance of the last bit of the condom stretching around him as she rolled it down with her thumbs. safe sex is sexy yeah yeah yeah but it's the way that the rubber ring around the end of that condom is fighting for its life right now that's making her feel something just shy of completely feral.
at least she has enough presence of mind to wipe the lube off of her fingertips before turning to dig both of her hands in his hair and drag him up from her neck so she could kiss him? ( yes, she did she wipe them off on his thigh, and then her own when she noticed she missed some, but she'd argue that's a pretty insignificant detail. ) she doesn't ease up her grip even once she's slowly lifting so she can hitch her knee up and over to settle on the opposite side of his hip, or when one of her hands moves to his shoulder to help her stay balanced. the thoughtful placement of his hands on her ass is definitely helping too, but she's feeling too out of her mind to actually realize that.
her forehead rests against his as she breaks the kiss to pull in a few panting breaths, and she's too close to actually be able to meet his eyes when she finally opens hers again, but she still tries anyway. she really wants to say something, too, tell him- something, anything, but words are impossible when she's distracted by her lips feeling tingly-bruised again. and, well, everything else. the hand in his hair slips down to the back of his neck, the one on his shoulder down to his chest, and maybe the next move should be urging him to settle back again, but... she hates the thought of putting any distance between them? so she won't be doing that. it means she's flying a little blind when she reaches down between them to angle his cock towards her, but that's- not exactly rocket science. even horny dumbdumb brain can manage that. ]
Oh. [ unfortunately horny dumbdumb brain can't manage to resist dragging him over her folds, groaning when it catches on her clit. it's counter-productive to hold him still while he rocks her hips when he's not actually inside her yet, but she can't seem to help wanting to chase down that sensation. not until she rubs him back over her entrance. then she's right back on track. it also finally clues her into the fact that maybe she did rush the prep, a little bit. ah. ] Fuck, Steve. [ she huffs a laugh, shoulders shaking with it, because her tone sure did sound a little accusatory there, huh? like it's his fault she might've overestimated herself here. it was one thing to see him, and another thing to feel him in the grip of her hand, but it's entirely different to feel the blunt pressure of him against her hole as she sits what's probably just a fraction of an inch lower, no matter how turned on she is. ] M'good, I got this. [ she kisses him, for emphasis! ] Just need to go slow. [ one more kiss! for more emphasis! but this time she leans back after, with a small circle of her hips that nudges him deeper. her brow pinches, because that's- just the head, she's pretty sure, which is dizzying because she already needs to take a second to relax around it, but it's definitely not enough to deter her. nope. if anything, in the pauses between each rock or press down to take more of him, that pinched determination is very quickly melting back to a punch-drunk arousal that has her lips parting and her lids dropping lower, even as she fights to keep her eyes on his. it helps that once he's deep enough that she doesn't need to hold his dick steady anymore, she can use those fingers to rub slow over her clit. when she lifts herself up just to slowly sink back down, lower still, the way she ] Steve. [ moans his name ( again ) sounds a little broken, but not in a bad way. at all. ]
( Steve really loves when Nancy gets like this. all hazy and wild, feverish and senseless. he likes knowing he's the one that did it to her, for starters. Nancy Wheeler, with her mind running a mile a minute, color coded notes, sharp as a tack and constantly on a schedule, in a routine, with things the way she likes them or else. and while Steve finds the fact she had an itemized itinerary for the sex getaway to Indianapolis endlessly charming (mostly because it's just so Nancy, he's not really the type to plan out... . .. . .. anything), sometimes shaking her out of her careful meticulous overthinking is just satisfying. when she's down to raw need and eyes glazed and not quite able to curve her over-red lips around words like she usually can, because she's just so goddamn desperate to have his cock inside her.
and, of course, he likes it because Nancy can make him that way, easy. and it's not like he was smart or articulate ahead of time!!! so considering that she can make him into a horny caveman with just a little quirk of a smirk or her hand wandering into his pocket with just a little squeeze, it is reassuring that he can make her just as wildly desperate. balance is real important, you know?
Steve can be real precious about his hair. you don't get that devil-may-care swoop on accident, okay? still, if there is any occasion he does not give a shit about it getting mussed, it is this particular moment. Nancy could have put a whole fistful of lubed fingers in it to the point it stuck up in a Harry Met Sally moment and Steve still wouldn't have cared, because lube on her fingers from a condom just meant they were so close. in fact, Steve just huffs a husky laugh at the smudging of her fingers on her leg and then his before he can't manage much. besides getting lost in her mouth, arms pulling her in close and drawing the taste of her desperately onto his tongue, that is. he scrunches his grip from her ass to her legs, kneading and steadying all at once.
Nancy finally breaks and presses in against him, and he can't really look at her so much as nuzzle toward her heat, the sharp smell of her hairspray and the striking features of her face. he wildly and remembers Nancy telling him about the elf princess character she made, back when she did tabletop with Mike. it makes all sorts of sudden perfect sense, actually. her eyes, her nose, her mouth, they're all soft and delicate. almost innocent? except for right now. when her mouth is stained red and her eyes are unfocused with heady want. innocent isn't the right word anymore. he still thinks she's beautiful, and he's seeing her like a Piccasso painting. all bits and pieces and elements and curves of eyelashes and soft little freckles and a hint of a smile line — she's the most breathtaking thing he's ever seen.
to be fair, it is pretty goddamn hard to keep oxygen in his lungs as she finally drags him along her entrance. she's so hot. it makes his dick ache as the lube mixes with her arousal, slippy-sliding in a delightful away but not-quite-enough way, either. he doesn't really mean to curve his hips in a greedy rock towards her cunt, it's entirely brainless instinct. ) Christ, Nancy, you're so tight, baby, ( and it is mumbled against her mouth because she's leaning in to kiss him again, even as she sinks a little lower, taking him more and more and just a little bit more before she's moving back and sinking again and it's so slow Steve thinks he's gonna lose his mind. but who is he kidding, though, he lost it a long ass time ago. he's been crazy about Nancy since Junior year. and that was before Demogorgons and Demodogs and Russian codes at Starcourt Mall.
part of him wants to roll them over, press her legs open on the mattress and push all the way inside her. fuck slow, rip off the bandaid, what could go wrong? right? but the last remaining shred of sense knows he can do that later, when she's already had him once. maybe more than once. when her body remembers what it is like to be touched. Steve is not gonna let her body forget, if he has a say in the matter. so instead one arm winds around her, holding her close, and the other palm lands on her thigh to stroke and coax her as she lifts and sinks and acclimates. it is taking every inch of willpower not to push for faster when the rhythm is frankly excruciating, so there's nothing left to dissect what he says before it tumbles out of his mouth. ) Good, that's good, you're so good, baby. That's my girl, my good girl. Just a little more, fuck, fuck, Nancy.
( that was fuck as in you feel so exquisitely good I can't even properly articulate how much I want you, not fuck Nancy. but also, kind of that. and if he's guiding her to roll her hips forward and cock inside her just that bit more, well... look. slow, yeah. but nobody ever said he couldn't help, all right? )
[ it's obvious she's pleased with steve letting her take her time and set the pace, just by the way she's somehow getting more caught up in this by the second, but she's also very okay with the way he's occasionally, ah, "helping" her, too. and even though she's taking her time so she can relax into this with him, and avoid anything too intense, too quickly - she's also almost hyperaware of all the ways they're touching right now, and how good it all feels. it's like she can feel him everywhere, it's crazy. so when she feels him rock his hips like that, and tighten his hold around her, it doesn't feel like he's trying to rush her. it's more like he could tell she was starting to lose it a bit and needed something to pull her back in. focus. maybe. or he's just starting to lose it, too. it's a lot. she's feeling too many things right now. it's overwhelming. it's too much. and she just wants more, now.
and that particular string of words, said in that particular way, definitely fits the fucking bill, because what the fuck? she was already feeling flush all over, she can feel the those pinpricks of heat along the top of her cheeks, down her neck, along her collarbones, across her chest, and literally everywhere his hands are touching her, but he says all that and her brain immediately tries to cling onto each part of it to obsess over. her eyes slam shut as she makes a sort choked-off, breathy moan- the sound getting pulled out of her a little louder when he tugs her closer. and despite the way she's completely distracted, the hand between them didn't stop moving until just now when even just that small bit of friction on her clit became too much. she touches his stomach, just her fingers lightly trailing until she's pressing her palm to his ribs, holding onto him there while he other hand stays curled around the back of his neck.
that's my girl, my good girl. ]
God. Yeah. Yes. [ her words might get lost when she exhales right before kissing him again, but hopefully the way her teeth catch his lip and bite down before she licks into his mouth and kisses him silly got her point across. although the vague agreement to d. all of the above isn't the main point she's trying to make anyway. her forehead presses to his when she breaks the kiss with a moan, and she leans into him even more ( always, it's kind of her thing ), wanting to feel his arm curl around her tighter. because- ] Yours, yeah. M'yours. [ those are the words that her brain ( and her heart, moreso ) is completely focused on, because- well it's true, isn't it? he said it. and it's true for her, so why shouldn't she say it? ] Yours. [ again, and this time with a little less sex-drunk slurring, and a little more clarity. her thighs squeeze him on either side as she hitches her hips down, closer, taking more of him quicker than before, and she's so damn close to being fully seated on his lap that her thighs are trembling with the effort to keep herself from doing so, but she doesn't go for it yet, slowly rolling her hips a few times to feel him move inside her instead. not that she's satisfied with just that for very long. ] Fuck, I need it. Need you. Give it to me, please, c'mon. Just take it. [ as if she's not completely in control of that. whatever. she's out of her mind, sue her. ] Steve, fuck me.
( words do tend to get a little lost, when they're paired with heat and teeth and breath and tongue. he got the yes, more or less. what the affirmative was for, he had no idea. maybe it didn't even matter! yes she was tight, yes she was good, almost almost almost. yes just to the sensation because fucking hell, the smell and feeling and sensation of her is blissful and yes is quick and dirty but it gets the point across that it all feels good. he grins, somehow both greedy and breathless, into her mouth. pressing his chin up to demand more despite the fact it makes clarification infinitely more difficult. it's just he didn't think he needed clarification. until he gets it. and then his heartbeat is a wild jangle and his expression gets soft and fond and hopeful in all the horny desperation.
because it could have just been horny Madlibs, both of them so out of their mind nothing has to really make sense. it feels good and being his girl when he's nearly buried inside of her is just a predictable thing to say. Nancy doesn't have to spare oxygen to agree, nor cleave herself away from his mouth to make sure he understands. she's right, even tilting her weight upward to press her forehead to his made his arm wind around her just a little tighter. it could have just been about the sex, is all. it's been so long. nobody would have held it against either party or they just wanted to get down to it, now that they decided they were ready. only, maybe that was the whole point of taking it slow. that they'd be sure they wanted more than just how good they made each other feel in the heat of things. they wanted each other all the time. high points and low points and grumpy from not enough sleep and harried about finals half functional over 3am truckstop pancakes and everything in between. he didn't know he needed that reminder that it's all of it, he has all of her, until she says it. more than says it, doubles down. yours laced with enough ecstasy that it almost feels like she's getting off on knowing it, nearly as much as the twisting at her clit and the way she's grinding against his cock. )
Nancy, ( he moans, and there's so many things pinned into that word, it's almost impossible to isolate any of them. arousal, need, delight, feelings that never really went anywhere and used to fall out of him so easy and god he wants to say it. just tell her. it's got to be obvious. he loves her, god he loves her, when she's heady-needy and her thighs are shaking with her determination to take every inch of him inside of her — or when she's wrinkling her nose at a book or frowning in that Nancy way when some old pensioner is being an asshole to the waitress a few tables down. he loves her, Steve thinks he never really stopped and maybe he doesn't know how to stop. and being with her just like this, he doesn't want to learn. he wants to say it, he just... can't. it catches at the back of his teeth, locked there. maybe sex isn't the only thing they need to take it slow with. he's not going to ruin things by admitting things she may not be ready for yet. so what if it's true? it'll still be true, when she's ready to say it too.
and then she goes on that ramble. I need it. Just take it. and part of him is conflicted, wanting to watch her ride him. he's always liked it, and he knows Nancy likes it too. the smug little self assured smile she gets, her palms on his shoulders or her arms curled around his neck with her tits in his face as she breaks. but the way she's shaking makes him think she's not ready for that, and he's not sure either of them can wait until she is. Nancy has done more than her fair share, here. he's gotta do his part, too. his brain is a little hazy on how to execute that instruction, but there's no way he won't give Nancy what she wants when he's practically out of his mind wanting the same. )
Need it, ( he repeats, and it could just be broken caveman grunting, replicating sounds he hears without really comprehending the meaning. but as his grip around Nancy tightens so he can lay her back and bear down on top of her, mouth washing over her neck and breast and heartbeat in fleeting worship, it's just a momentary reprieve before he aligns his hips to sink just that bit deeper. fuck, he missed this, the way they fit. when he presses down between her legs he can feel his cock inside her, and it's always made him a fucking madman. he rocks a shallow stroke, feeling the way she clenches exquisitely around him with a moan. ) Need it how, baby? Tell me, tell me, Nancy. ( he asks but he doesn't wait for an answer. she'll have to decide on more or faster or harder or slower as he starts to move. shallow and slow to start, as she acclimates to him buried this deep inside her again. it's a start, but whatever she wants she can have. because fuck she feels so good like this, pressed against him and with him and around him. )
[ nancy smiles when she feels him move to switch their positions, still holding on tight even once she's settled under him, like there's only so much distance she's willing to spare at this point. both of her hands sink into his hair, gripping tight, ready to drag him back up from where he's kissing along her chest, but she doesn't manage to make it that far. ]
Oh, fuck.
[ it's definitely for the best that she isn't on top of him right now, because her brain function all but cuts out once he rocks into her that last bit, letting her finally feel him. like, really feel him. all of him. she probably would have ended up dropping down on top of him, but- not in a sexy, intimate way. more like her arms and core muscles would have checked out in favor of curling up against his chest. this is much better, because he sinks into her, and her brain function drops down to "horny idiot", and muscle memory takes over. her hips pitch up, thighs falling open wider, and one of her hands slips down to the back of his neck to brace herself that way. some part of her must have realized that hair tugging gets much less enjoyable when its with both hands, so. yeah. just the one is scratching through it, grabbing tighter again once he starts to move.
need it how?
great question. brilliant question. unfortunately the ability to use her words is still broken, so at first all she manages is a low moan between panting breaths, thighs squeezing his sides, heels digging into his lower back. ]
Steve. [ she's definitely whining. already. damn. focus, wheeler. ] You feel so good. Making me feel so good. Shit, I can't- [ words. she can't words. she's trying though. she's also starting to move with him, using her legs to help her rock her hips up every time he presses in, body curling up a bit. ] Slow, just like this. But- harder, please, I need it harder. [ she's definitely not going to try and verbalize how much she likes feeling the deep stretch of him bottomed out inside her every time he thrusts in, or how it's making her feel fucking crazy, knowing that she'd feel the outline of him if she pressed on her lower belly right now. it's just like- a lot, to try and put into words. filthy in a way she's not totally sure she's capable of just yet. ]
( considering where they started — like when they were clacking heads trying to find the right angle to kiss each other and both getting the logistics horribly wrong, or when Nancy fell off the bed and nearly took him with her when she misjudged her straddle velocity — it feels like they've finally managed to get back into the swing of it. find each others rhythm. all coming back to them now. as Nancy spreads her legs wide to take him without even being asked. or shifting from two greedy fists in his hair to just the one, though, honestly he didn't entirely hate the hair pulling? food for thought. or how he knows to keep some weight down at his knees, because he needs some kind of leverage to move. find the rhythm that makes her see stars and his toes curl because they both need it bad, after waiting so goddamn long.
they might not be to the well oiled machine stage of knowing each other like they used to be, at least not yet. but the rust is coming off and it's a relief that it isn't that hard to find their way back to each other. and while he thinks there's definitely more exciting things they'd like to do to each other and positions they're curious to try, maybe sweet and simple for their second first time is a good place to start. missionary works for a reason, doesn't it? and while harder might be easier if he were standing — or she was on that table, how sturdy is that table, and if it's not sturdy how much would they have to pay if they break that table — it isn't as if he can't sink deep into her just like this. he might have to spare one elbow to balance himself on top of her, but the other hand is free to fish for hers. pin it above her head as his cock sinks inside her and the filthy little smack of skin on skin starts to echo, as his cock works inside her and she arches and bucks up to take it. )
Fuck, Nance — ( is his first choked affirmation, trying to fit the words between thrusts. ) Okay, no more talking, ( he suggests, because maybe Nancy is not the only one regressing to horny idiot emergency power. he was frankly a bully to make her try and talk through that!!! as if to reinforce the no talking, Steve doesn't so much kiss her as lands his open mouth close to hers, groan-y throat-y moans and all. look, it's a start. surely both of them can agree that the pace they're starting to hit is more important than words right now. because the winding up heat in his gut as she clenches around him is burning all over and everywhere, and not that slowly either. finally the more more more they've been missing. needing.
and he wants to feather this out as long as he can even though it's practically a fools errand, like trying to keep a fire from catching when you've doused all the dry kindling in kerosene. )
[ it might be a silly thing to be focused on at the moment, but steve's hand finds hers and holds on tight and nancy feels a rush of something just shy of overwhelming fill her chest. it's not arousal, ( ..okay, it's a little bit arousal, because the easy way he pins her hand to the bed without making her feel trapped is just A Lot ) but it's enough to make her squeeze her eyes shut and her exhale rush out in a gasp. one that ends in a quick laugh, a tiny bit delirious. she used to be embarrassed by how much she liked holding steve's hand whenever they were in bed together, just because it seemed too stereotypical and too cliche and too blahblahblah. but it wasn't something that was restricted to the bedroom- he was almost always reaching for her hand as soon as he got the chance, and eventually she fell into the habit, too. and it almost always made her smile in a way that was frustratingly bashful. frustrating to her, at least. like it was childish, maybe. grow up. not that it ever stopped her from reaching for his hand as soon as she could anyway, or try wiggle her fingers free when he was the one to tangle their fingers up, because she really did like it. she actually kinda loved it.
and then they broke up. and jonathan never held her hand. not when they were in bed, or in the car, or at the movies, or anywhere else. jonathan was.. not a hand-holder. and as soon as she realized that, the way steve used to hold her hand very quickly climbed close to the top of the list of things she missed most about being with him. and unlearning the habit was something that made her heart ache.
and no, it's absolutely not the first time he's held her hand since they got back together or anything - she's had plenty of breath-catchy moments already because of that - but this is very different. so yeah, she gets caught up in it for a long moment, holding on tight, the hand in his hair gripping tighter, too.
okay, no more talking. nancy's so far ahead of him already, but she nods anyway, a quick bob that slows down once he's leaning down closer, makes her lips drag up over his and back down. and steve- fuck, there's another other thing she missed, but she didn't realize it until right this second - the fucking sounds he makes when they start to really get into things like this. tommy and carol might have teased the hell out of her for getting loud during their first time together, but it's not like she was the only one, okay!! and somehow, the way she remembers it back then hardly compares to the way he sounds now. it makes her pull at his hair harder without even really meaning to, high at the crown of his head where it's thickest. her body tightens around his cock too, and she's pretty sure he's going to be sore where her heels have slid down to the small of his beck, digging in harder. but that's fair, honestly, because she's going to be sore, too. basically everywhere. ]
Yeah, yeah, yeah- [ it's possibly a step up from the way she's been "responding" to each of his thrusts with staccato uh, uh, uhs, but she isn't really all that clued into whether or not she's actually saying words at the moment, no. she's mostly focused on the fact that she can practically feel him in her guts every time he bottoms out, and that his chest hair adds a friction against the peaked buds of her nipples that she so wasn't expecting but could definitely get used to, and that her fingers have started to alternate between trying to squirm out from between his and holding on tighter. which is what usually happens when she's hit this point, edging along her first orgasm. there's an impatient part of her that wants to rush it, get her hand free so she can reach down and rub fast circles over her clit until she's coming, but she knows she doesn't actually need it. after their first few times together, they learned pretty quickly that whatever pace he's set that makes her start squirming like she is now is all she actually needs to get there. but knowing that doesn't mean she's not going to act needy and whine for it. ..right after she picks her head up enough to sink her teeth into his bottom lip and tug down so she can lick into his mouth, kissing him deep. ] Ooh, Steve! [ it's canon!!!! it's also why they rented a hotel room, right? so she's not trying to be quiet. ] Steve, you're gonna make me come, fuck, fuck, don't stop-
( he's not sure what that desperate, heady laugh is about — couldn't possibly connect it to catching her hand in his. there's half a moment spared to charming puppy confusion, but whatever it was it probably doesn't need to be hashed out when he's balls deep inside of her. Steve just huffs a half breath that could almost be a laugh, too, letting his tongue trace inside her lower lip and along her tongue to try and catch a taste of whatever delighted her. doesn't quite work, but Nancy herself tastes good. a mix of red hots she'd insisted on as a driving snack and the Coke that she'd made wrinkled nose faces about even though she insisted she liked New Coke over stopping to get something else. and below that Nancy just tastes like... Nancy. he's never quite gotten over how much he likes the way Nancy tastes, so getting to lap her back onto his tastebuds is almost as enjoy able as the clench of her around him every time he's buried to the hilt. whatever tickled her, he'll ask about it later. no talking, right? that was the deal. twining their fingers as his strokes start to even out and his hipbones start to do that sexy-tingle from the impact of their bodies together can do the talking for now.
or, scratch that. because Nancy yanks on a good handful of his hair, and it earns a ragged sound and a drawn out, slurred fuuuuuuuuuckkkk of approval. his perfect hair is going to have a fist print in it after this, thanks to the tugging and the sweat caught at the roots. Steve can't be bothered to care about how the incredible hold of his hairspray will only make the disaster worse when they come up for air. he can only care about the slide of his cock, keeping his pace sharp and hitting her in that spot just right that makes her toes curl. he's only got so long; there's so much pent up frustration and desire from not being with anyone, compounded by being with Nancy and not being with her like this, all to prove some stupid point. what was he thinking. jesus christ. that they have spent weeks not doing exactly this seems to be a complete moral failing, because god she feels so perfect. she's always felt like this. deeper, better, more than any girl he's ever been with. did they really prove anything by managing to keep their hands out of each other's pants all this time, or just make it harder for themselves when they finally let themselves go?
because it does feel difficult, to focus on the movement, and not blowing his load before they can get Nancy anywhere close. fingering her first and stretching her out was a slow-and-steady sort of thing, and now that they're off to the races Steve is desperate not to cum too quickly and have things be over when they've been waiting so long. and it sure as shit doesn't help when Nancy starts to wriggle and keen against him, because Steve remembers exactly what that means. remembering exactly how Nancy moves and sounds as she gets close to orgasm is a lot for him right now. biting, and telling him she's close, and exactly how loud and turned on and demanding she's being? that's a lot for him right now too. too much in fact. he feels it like a rubber band being snapped, breaking suddenly and sharply and a little painfully if you're on the wrong side of things. he's not, at least, but coming with stars behind his eyes makes him stall out a second and the lady literally just said don't stop!!!)
Shit, Nance, ( he gasps, hips jutting and spasming a little as the worst of his orgasm hits like a truck, threads of muscle in his back tight and his weight falling almost entirely on top of her as he fucks her jaggedly through it before he stalls, like a train stopped at the tracks. very much blowing the don't of don't stop. he feels liquid and warm and lost in her and it is tempting to just swim in all that ecstasy, but as the brunt of it clears his brain starts to work again. slowly coming back to life, piece by piece. ) Sorry, ( he moans, offering a messy smattering of kisses as his body remembers how to function and the important orders he was just delivered. he... didn't want to cum first. that wasn't quite how he wanted this to go. BUT. he's not soft yet, there's still time before he's completely useless. his strokes are more shallow, now, interested mostly in ending as deep inside her as he can manage and the satisfying pressure of them coming together, over and over and over, that seems to drive her completely mental. ) C'mon, baby. Please, Nance. Come on.
( he needs her to finish too. if his cock can't manage it then his mouth will. he is not going to lie around here waiting for his dick to work again to hear Nancy Wheeler orgasm for the first time in years. it just is not happening. )
oh. some things really are impossible to forget, quite literally, because she definitely knows that tone. she knows what it means when his voice does that! when it sounds like his jaw's refusing to make way for the words to get out, and his breathing gets a little hiccupy, and she's split right down the middle on this one. she feels her body slink away from the tipping point just enough to make her squirm under him again, involuntary, in a way he'd probably tease her for in a different context, where he meant to pull her back. which is frustrating!! but the other half of her is still a bit delirious from how turned on she is, and the way he fucked into her those last couple of times before losing it and sinking down on top of her was more than enough to keep her from feeling anything close to actual frustration. because it turns out she wanted to see him lose it just as badly as he wanted to see her do the same.
her fingers relax their grip in his hair so she can scratch along his scalp, and she tips her head to the side to kiss his wrist, panting out a few breaths she didn't realize she was keeping in. she's trying to keep the whining and moving under him to a minimum because she knows it's going to be a moment - she's only been with two people but both of them seem to lose brain function right after they come, it's something she's just accepted - but it's hard. she was sofuckingclose.
and he knows it too, because he's apologizing. and she's trying to kiss him back properly, but her breathless smile is making it difficult, she knows - ] Shh, s'okay. [ - because it is, it's okay. she knows they're not done here, not by a long shot, and if anything? she knows he's about to make it up to her, sooo. what's left to forgive, really?
although she wasn't expecting him to make it up to her immediately, so that first rock of his hips makes her suck in a breath, face scrunching up a little bit. she's just a little confused?? ] You-? [ she's used to there being more downtime, honestly!! and the lack of said downtime isn't a bad thing, like, at all, but she just didn't think.......... but, he is, so! ] --oh, fuck, okay. Yeah. [ look, she's not about to question it. she might later, somehow, but right now she's trying to shove her thinky-brain aside so she can get back to where she was just a second ago. right back on the edge. and luckily it really does drive her insane, the shift in things. how he's pressed closer to her now, not even pulling his hips away very far before rocking back into her. she knows, realistically, that the way his cock fills her every time his hips hit flush against hers doesn't feel any different than it did before, but something is different. and it's not just the fact that he's giving her much more friction against her clit now, this way.
... okay, maybe that's a big part of it. but the buildup is more of a slow burn this time, has her looping her arm around his neck to hold on tight and keep him close, and she rocks her hips to match his rhythm as she gets closer again, almost without meaning to. maybe they still have some catching up to do before they're perfectly in sync, but some part of her must remember, because it's not long before she's tensing up under him again, jaw slack, her thighs tucking up higher and a little tighter around his waist again, shifting the angle.
there's also something about him begging her to come that's doing it for her, too. who'da thought? ]
Yeah, that's it, that's it. [ her hand is gripping his tight again, the fingers in his hair, too. like she has to hold onto something to keep from completely losing her mind. she's whining again, although she can't quite move around as much under him with the way he's pinning her to the bed, and that's adding something new and confusing and perfect to this, too. she cries when she finally comes, a sound that's almost a sob with relief, every muscle she has any control over tightening up, thighs trembling against his sides. she tries to keep moving on him as much as she can, but it's more of a grind than the same rocking from before. ] Sh-Shit, ohmygod. [ her palm flattens to settle at the back of his neck, squeezing as she shudders against him again, whimpering. but she resists relaxing beyond that just yet, heels digging into his lower back again. ] Stay. Just like this, c'mere. [ he's pretty much already laying on top of her, but she still winds her arm around him to drag him down more, wanting to feel him everywhere. her brain feels like cotton candy, too. in a good way, though. the best way. ]
( well, there are two options. more downtime to the point of they gotta wait for his dick to check back in, use something else to finish the job. or they can make use of what little he's got left. it's a hard headed determination that is leading the charge, here, because as good as it feels there's a prickle of discomfort, like when he eats that fourth piece of pizza when he really knows he shouldn't. too much of a good thing is supposed to be bad but there's guilty pleasure in it, too. his body might want to check out now that he's hit his own finish line, his brain just refuses to.
they've got a timeline, here. between what is left of being hard quickly turns into pushing rope. so his encore is distinctly more desperate than before, and it isn't like he'd been lacking on that front the first round. it's just she was so close. used to be they were pretty in sync, with these things. he could hold back just long enough, or they'd work her up first so getting her to crash through a finish was just a bit of fingers or maybe the back of his palm pressed hard against her clit. he knows the sounds she's making, the wild, uncomfortable way she's moving, the flush crawling up her neck and the pinpoint of her pupils, Steve knows she's close. he's not just going to call it quits before they get there, even if it isn't quite how he wanted their second first to go.
the problem before was expecting perfection, that they could just jump back into the thick of it without putting the time in. like running a marathon right after they got cleared to ditch the crutches. throwing that out the window, focusing on making the most of what they've got — maybe it's not perfect, maybe Foreigner isn't providing a soft crooning ambiance, maybe it isn't some first magical moment. to be fair their first time wasn't perfect either, and that was before a girl got munched in his pool. perfect is more or less impossible. making the best of being with Nancy again, well... that he can do. hell, it's pretty easy to do, when she still melts under his touch. still knows just how she likes to jut back and slide against him, knows how to hold herself in that spot that makes her body sing. it's sloppy and fraught and desperate and delightful. and in the end, it's enough. he feels it before it hits, the way the inner muscles of her thighs go tight and then shiver-shudder clench as she falls to pieces under him and around him all at once. )
Yes, just... just like that, Nancy. God you're so fucking — ( sexy? beautiful? everything he could imagine and more? yes. whatever he meant to articulate, he can't, especially as the exhaustion of completion hits. the movement can stop and he can just get lost in the afterglow, which is pretty afterglow-y, right now. used to be, Steve worried more, about laying on top of her. if anything it makes more sense to worry about it now than it did then, because he was a lot more tooth-picky in high school. that swimmer diet kicked his ass until he didn't have to bother anymore. there's a great deal more of him to bear down on her, now, it's just he couldn't care less. Nancy will whine if her legs start to fall asleep. she's a lot less fragile than she looks, and fragile she does look, sort of like one of those porcelain dolls his mom keeps in her closet only with a much more modern haircut. (some post nut thoughts are best to keep to oneself.) he can wind her close and be her heavy boy blanket at least long enough for their brains to turn back on again.
his mouth hurts from all the kissing. it's not a bad kind of sting. he still uses his teeth to catch a spot under her jaw close to her neck, that spot that always smells most like Nancy after they fuck. for important, not at all caveman reasons, he really likes that spot. his brain doesn't really have the capacity for coherent thought just yet, it just wants to double down in nancynancynancy. that spot always helps with that. having his mouth busy is a good way to keep the post sex i love you to himself. maybe it is obvious, at this point. he feels like the dumb dopey expression he wears when he looks at her sort of gives it away. still, holding onto that a little longer since they've technically only been dating again a few months? feels like a good call. )
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so it's. awkward. really awkward! what the hell is wrong with him? this isn't exactly an area he's used to fumbling in. not with Nancy, not really with any other girl he's been with. so what is his excuse, exactly?
his head drops on the mattress, hair already destroyed from Nancy putting a fist in it. that happened somewhere on the interstate, even. pretty sure the check in lady hadn't looked at him so much as she'd stared at his obvious sex-mussed hair. and they hadn't even had sex, that's the worst part! Nancy is trying not to laugh and failing miserably, hiding it behind the back of his hand instead of hers. which is not very effective, since he can feel the huff of breath against his skin. he's a little embarrassed and a lot frustrated, squinting his eyes closed for a moment. like he's in a time out and some coach in the back of his brain is shouting plays and he's just trying to keep up. )
Hey. I'm rusty, too. ( it's... well, it hasn't been 17 (...18??? ? ? oh god, is it closer to 19? 20 now?) months for him, but, he hasn't been seeing anyone since his ill-fated night with Brenda. and they didn't exactly fool around after that basketball game. the compliment sinks in a few sentences late, tugs down the frustrated glower into something softer. a stupid little hint of a smile, and jesus he shouldn't be that easy, huh? but considering there's still a bakers dozen bat bite scars all over him like the world's ugliest racing stripes, that Nancy can manage to call him hot without a pause or hesitation, like there's a little caveat in there somewhere? really does it for him, actually.
Steve pulls his hand from where it's twined in her hands, spreads it instead against one of her bare breasts. tweaks her nipple in the world's worst punishment, propping himself up on an elbow and looking down at Nancy's flushed skin and focusing on they were really here, somehow, instead of getting lost in the flurry of needing and wanting her so much he's out of his goddamn mind. ) My excuse? You're laughing. All these goddamn giggles, Nance, what if my dick gets shy?
( he's full of it, somehow the giggles have done nothing at all to turn him off. she's not laughing at him, she's just so ridiculously happy. even though he's totally fumbling in the endzone, over here. he can't be that mad at a few giggles, he just can't. he'll still attempt to guilt her about it, though. not that the guilt trip lands very when when he leans down to kiss her again a second after. even though they've kissed so many times already he's lost count. his lips are sore, hinting towards bruising at being a little too greedy with putting his mouth on hers. it doesn't help find direction in how to seal the deal, here, but it doesn't hurt either. kissing her is a good safety in the storm, to focus up. manage a little more honest answer to the question. Steve can't manage to pull properly back to say it, though that might be more of a reluctance to look her in the eye thing. ) It's not our first. But it is. You know? I don't... I want it to be good.
( perfect is a pretty high bar. but good? that's fair. that's not shooting too far. good. nothing to regret, if it's good. it's gotta at least be good. )
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luckily it seems she's in the clear, though she can't help the look she gives him when he insists that he's rusty too, because... really? but he doesn't give her too long too dwell on it, or even comment on it, because- well, she's pretty sensitive everywhere at the moment? so when he takes his hand back to deliver that ruthless punishment, her laugh peters off into a sound that's slightly pouty, before she even manages the expression to go with it.
... only for it to bubble up into another laugh. she was already shifting closer to him as soon as he started to sit up, though the hand she braced on his hip to help her get there suddenly has a goal, once he brought up how her giggling might affect him. ]
Hm? Oh, I really don't think we need to be worried about that. [ not that her hand ever reaches that goal, because he kisses her first, and maybe later on in their weekend getaway she'll remember how to multitask? but right now her ability to feel him up with any sense of direction has been shoved to the back burner, in favor of kissing him back in a way that's very deliberately soft. it's a complete contradiction to how she's kissed him up until this point - like she had been actively chasing that tingling, bruised feeling on her lips at the start ( she definitely was ) - but she doesn't want to rush by this one. and it just so happens to work in his favor that she hasn't decided she's quite done kissing him yet even once he adds on that last thought, so she tips her head to the side to kiss the corner of his mouth, then his cheek, instead of settling back again. ]
But it is, in a way. I get what you mean. I definitely get it. [ she picks her head up again, perfectly poised for another smooch, but she brushes her nose against his instead, like maybe nuzzling him will help her get a better handle on how keyed-up she is right now. ... it doesn't really work, but... an effort was made, and she thinks that's what's important. ] It will be good, though. I know it. I promise. [ when she does sit back again, she scoots up towards the headboard, then she reaches up to nudge his shoulder, wanting him to lay back again basically so she can stretch out and slink up along his side until she's basically draped over him completely, except for the way she's positioned her forearm on the bed to hold herself up over him. ] Now you know I would never, ever tell you to go easy on me, or go slower, because that's the last thing I want. Please don't do that. [ she grins, leaning up to nuzzle his cheek before pressing a kiss there. her hand slides from its spot mid-torso up to his collarbones so she can trace her fingers along both of them, back and forth. ] But- I might need a second to, mm, get used to things again? How good it feels, how good you feel, like, your hands. Just about anywhere, to be honest. Like... I do still like it when you touch my lips. Love it, actually. It just feels really good, almost too good, so it was hard to stay still. [ she's back to pressing kisses along the back of his jaw, then up a little higher, so she can catch his earlobe between her teeth. ] So just... don't give me a chance to get shy, yeah? I trust you. And I promise not to be shy if I don't like something. But I doubt we'll run into anything like that.
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I really don't think we have to be worried about that. he's probably going to still worry about it, at least a little bit. that's a small relief that Nancy isn't worried, though.
she nuzzles up against his face like a needy cat and Steve huffs a laugh, hand reaching up to curve around her jaw to stroke the overheated apple of her cheek with her thumb. he's strangely lost in how to Do This, which isn't really the Steve Harrington MO. it's just there's no How To Rekindle With Your First Love, For Dummies. and even if there was there wouldn't be a chapter on how to navigate around shared trauma and dead best friends in alternate universe versions of your pool. he used to know the deal. how to be romantic. how to be flirty, how to hit the right tone, how to be charming and smarmy and get what he wanted. if they were just trying to fuck around, here, he knows all the beats to that particular venture.
it's just... different. with Nancy. it has always been different, with Nancy.
nuzzling does, and doesn't, help with how keyed up and everything everywhere all at once he's feeling right now. the reassurance helps, even if it isn't exactly a cure all for fixing it. Nancy shifts away and not really knowing the Plan, it is just gut instinct to audibly voice his discontent. moan and whine like a kid that got refused the treat they didn't actually deserve. it is a lot to commit to, following her lead. slowing down. though, they kept veering too fast in less than ideal directions, so, maybe this is better. a clear and concise picture of what Nancy wants, that's better too. Steve scooches back the distance she put in, keeping his head on the mattress and focusing on her words instead of her skin for about two seconds. he can do that. ) Shy, ( Steve repeats, somewhat incredulous. his breath might hitch, just a little, at the knick of Nancy's teeth. ) I don't get how the most beautiful girl in the world could get shy.
( maybe that might come across as a line. it's been used as one, probably before the dawn of time, douchebags were using that one. Steve really does mean it, though. some things change, and sometimes things stay exactly the same. Nancy's hair is shorter, the skin under her eyes is a little darker, the lines by her mouth tilt downward like she's spent more of her life worried than smiling. but she's still the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. no contest, it's not even fair really.
Steve's listening, though, he is. don't let her get shy. give her time to adjust to how things feel. his adam's apple bobs at the wildly hot breath curling around his ears as the cords in his throat tighten at the thousandth pang of wet hot want tingling through every inch of him, pulsing in his desperate dick. it's that easy, Nancy's breath in his ear. ) F-fingers. We. Could. Do fingers. First. ( inside of her, wrapped around him, see where that leads them. faster, or slower, more, or less, just some relief to clear their heads? doesn't matter how it ends up, more that it is a place to start. when there's so many ways he wants her it really does feel impossible to just pick one. )
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... although really, the fact that steve might actually be struggling with it even more is definitely making it easier for her, in a way. which might sound mean, but she's pretty sure that's just how they work, when it comes to this. although right now it's less of a push-pull, and more like there's a scale that's determined to stay balanced, or something. or maybe it's just that she likes feeling like she's in control sometimes. either one.
and it does sound like a line, but some part of her knows it's not, so the smile she presses against his neck is as genuine as anything else she's feeling right now. that wasn't quite what she meant when she brought up feeling shy, but she's not about to point that out. she can feel his pulse thrumming under her tongue as she gives him a slow kiss there, biting down and sucking just barely long enough to leave a light mark, for now, before sitting up over him again, palm flat to his chest now, fingers tapping out a little pattern. ]
Oh, I mean, I'll- definitely need that first. Your fingers? Um. Yes. [ she's actually super frustrating that she can feel her cheeks grow hot in a way that obviously has nothing to do with how turned on she is. so embarrassing. she shifts against him, hiking her knee up higher so her thigh is crossed over his at a higher point, slowly, considering it puts her knee in range of his dick and that's not exactly the vibe she wants to set for this weekend, no. she kisses him again, smiling against his lips ] But you sound so tortured, baby. It's not at the thought of my tiny hands, is it? That it won't be enough until I'm ready for you? [ her smile turns goofy, although she at least manages to keep her laughter just in her tone. she's positive it's not actually a concern he has, considering she's pretty aware of how much he likes having her small hands on him. particularly there. and honestly, she does, too. ] Because it will be, I promise. [ she sits up more as lifts her hand off his chest, blushing more, somehow, though she still refuses to look away even as she licks up along the flats of her index and middle fingers. then takes them both in her mouth, getting them more wet that way. she knows it's not nearly enough to help with what's... definitely going to be a dry handjob to start, but! she knows it's going to add to how it feels now that she's reaching down his body to teasingly run her fingertips down his length, with a slow teasing rub just under the head, first. she grins ( just grins, there were no embarrassing whimpers or grunts accompanying it ) when she feels his cock jump towards her hand, then presses it down against him then with her full palm ] I promise.
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probably, her boyfriend standing around as his knucklehead friends tagged the theater with how slutty she was, didn't help a lot in Nancy feeling self assured in her sexual desires.
they're not at the same place they used to be, though. and understanding exactly where they are now isn't as easy as a paint by numbers, either. Nancy's so familiar, under his hands. it's nostalgic and reassuring, all at once. and yet she's different, too — breasts a little more full, definitely more sensitive. her thighs are fuller, more muscular, which is super goddamn sexy, actually. he's been thinking about them pressed at his ears since about the time Nancy showed up for Saturday morning hangover cartoons in the world's tiniest sleep shorts, even though they were definitely supposed to just be platonic friends back then. he remembers her and he's relearning her, all at once.
back in the day, they used to have about three consistent positions, and most of them involved Nancy underneath him. and while missionary is never gonna be a bad choice, it's a little exciting that this Nancy is more self assured. nipping at his neck and spreading her leg over his thighs, licking her palm and staring him dead in the eye as she reaches between them to touch his cock.
not for the first time, to be fair. she'd had her hands so vigorously in his pants the second they got in the door they'd been at imminent risk of zipper burn. the touch hadn't been bad, just sort of like throwing gas on a fire that was already kinda out of control. this was better, somehow. stoking the flames, sure, but not wildly out of hand. she's maybe talking too much, if she expects him to keep up and be funny and flirty about it. ) Baby, ( Steve says, dazedly, hands landing on Nancy's thighs and shifting to her ass to heft her more completely in his lap, because that's just easier. no, he's not going to be inside her, yet. but despite the risk of getting in each other's way, they're closer. so of course Steve prefers it. )
Yeah, I'm tortured. Not by your hands, mmmmmmnope your hands are good. ( his hips are shifting toward the shallow strokes of her palm around his dick, which is perfect confirmation of his words. as if the moan mid sentence hadn't been obvious enough. ) Tortured is right, though. Do you... fuck. Do you know how hard it is not to come right now? Just like this, in your tiny, perfect h-hand. ( and hopefully she realizes why that would be bad. there's so many better ways for him to come, as much as he likes her hand that's not where he wants to finish, and he's so tweaked out and desperate it feels like maybe that's all it will take.
so, in the interest of giving her what she needs (she did say that, right? he's pretty sure, it was just before she called him baby and his brain fizzled out for about 15 straight seconds), his knuckles walk up the inside of her thigh and his fingers trace through her folds. he needs to soak up every inch of her arousal to help the first finger slip inside of her. and even that is tormenting, feeling her tight and clenched around him. tormenting, but empowering too. because she's so hot and wet and desperate for him, and the reminder of that makes him mouthy (as it usually does). ) Wanting you this bad is torture. Yeah. Isn't it? That it's my finger inside you, and not my cock?
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for the obvious reasons, but partly because... in the past, she was always pretty quick to hide her face against his chest, or his neck, behind her own hands, or the bend of her elbow- sometimes even pressing her forehead to his was a way of hiding, like maybe it was too much, watching him when they were fooling around. especially if he was watching her right back. but now it seems she's ditched that habit. not that her eyes have been fully focused on his this whole time, but she's definitely watching. and she can't exactly do that if she's settled on top of him completely. just... mostly.
it's sort of impossible not to clock the effort it's taking for him to talk to her, and it probably shouldn't make her smile, because that's probably rude, and it definitely should make her laugh, but it sounds like more of a breathy grunt than anything humorous, so. joke's actually on her? still, while she had been moving her hand in time with the movement of his hips up until that point, he mentions the threat of coming like this, and that has her grip tightening fast as she shakes her head, hums an ] Nhn-hnn. [ of protest, followed by a whispered, rushed, but very sincere plea of ] No, no, no, don't, don't come. [ she huffs, then shifts up to kiss him again, which just has her talking against his lips when she doesn't pull away to add ] That's not where I want you to come.
[ so, she's obviously aware that talking about him coming in any context is dirty, but somehow she didn't anticipate how dirty it would feel saying that, specifically, which is why she ends up making what could only be described as a panicked whine before she presses her lips against his in a nope, we're not talking again yet type of kiss, immediately after. it's actually barely a kiss, at first. she may as well have been pressing her palm against his mouth- she's just not letting him talk. but eventually she eases off with a sigh, kissing him softly, but still pretty damn filthy because eventually is when she feels his hand between her thighs, and oh-
fuck.
silly her for thinking she really was going to keep any real sense of control right now, just because she happened to start giving him a handy before he did. wow. who knew she could be so completely delusional?
she leans down to rest her forehead against his, and this time it's still not in an attempt to hide. it's honestly just self preservation, because the press of his palm against her once he slides his finger inside of her is, embarrassingly, more than enough to make properly holding herself up over him nearly impossible. ]
Yeah. [ she nods, kisses him again ] Fuck, yes, it is. I- I want it so fucking bad, Steve. [ she's moving her hand on him again, at least, slower, but with a grip that's a little tighter, and definitely distracted. she's just clearly paying more attention to his hand than hers now.] Can't yet, though. Still too tight. Right? [ look, she knew that was dirty too, but it's true, okay! and it's not really rude of her to smile this time, but she still tries to hide it by nipping at his bottom lip instead of lifting up so he can see it. although she's pretty sure he probably felt her smiling against his mouth first, yeah ] Don't get me off like this either, yeah? I want you to- oh, [ she squirms a bit, inching onto her knees a little more ] The first time you make me come has to be on your cock. Please?
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her palm being tighter might not be better, on the desperately trying for this not to be over too soon front? only, at the same time, it is better. it's not like he hasn't gotten off since Nancy Wheeler. he has. it's not even as if he hasn't had someone else jack him off, either. mostly it's been him touching himself, which isn't quite the same — frankly, none of the girls he saw about as long as it took to fool around didn't feel half as overwhelming as this does, either. it shouldn't feel so much different, like it has been so absolutely excruciatingly long, since somebody else has touched him like that. and yet it does. he can jack off multiple times a day and it still doesn't feel as good as Nancy does, palm soft and fingers curved just right around him as she works him, shaft to not quite the tip. Steve groans a desperate and delighted noise, all at once, shifting up to kiss her and finding he can't quite reach her the way he wants, so he falls back again disappointed. okay, one flaw to having Nancy on top of him like this. she's a lot harder to reach, as far as kisses are concerned. )
See? Torture. Fucking... goddamn torture. ( he laughs, though, so, how torturous can it really be? no, she's right, in her hand isn't how he wants to finish, either. he's got all sorts of places that'd be better, though deciding between her mouth and buried in her cunt was impossible to pick until she says it, like that. jesus christ. ) I feel it, baby. God you feel so — ( yes, tight, tight is right. more than that though. for all their fumbling and occasional headbutting, it isn't that they've completely lost the mood. she's wet and vibrant under his fingers, coats his knuckles as they sink and stretch inside her. he knows she wants it, there's not a question. )
Not like this, ( Steve agrees, heady, even as he lets his fingers sink a little deeper and spread inside her, just to remind her what it feels like. it's not that he's been doubting, that it's been awhile. he can tell, though, by the way she feels. taking a little more slowly but surely. it almost makes him see stars thinking about what she'll feel like when his cock is inside of her, instead of his fingers. ) Inside you. With you just like this. You're just... ( there's one hand inside of her, sure, but the other aimlessly strokes along her hip and up her side, palm shifting to lay flat against her stomach and trace upwards as he just looks at all the bare skin he has to admire. he's just never gonna get tired of looking at her, apparently. it's been years, and it's still a marvel. maybe the fact it has been years and yet, here they are, makes it even more incredible. she's gotta feel it coming before he says it, and maybe he needs to crack into that thesaurus that Nancy uses for sexting, to find a better word. until then, the one he's got works. ) So goddamn beautiful, Nance.
( again, not being in easy kiss distance is hell. half sitting does mean he can crane forward to press his mouth between her breasts for half a glancing second, before the movement of her hand and his fingers needing to stretch inside of her means he has to fall back again. )
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even if it means the flush on her cheeks is making its way down her neck, just from how overwhelmed she feels because of- basically everything she's feeling right now. the way he's watching her, that's definitely part of it, and how even feeling other hand just slide up her body is making her feel just shy of dizzy, too. how she can feel it getting easier to handle the stretch of his fingers, and that she's wet enough that she can feel it every time he sinks into her up to the knuckle. fuck.
hearing him call her beautiful when she's pretty sure she looks slightly feral, holding herself over him with her hand moving over his cock, when all she really wants to be doing is bounce on his lap until she forgets her own name- that's pretty overwhelming, too. to the point where her hips keep rocking towards his hand every time she can feel him start to slide his fingers out of her, even if she knows he's going to push them right back in. she rubs her thumb just under the head of his cock, the same way she kinda really wants to be rubbing her tongue there instead, if it didn't mean he wouldn't be able to keep touching her like this. but she's way too into this, too into him, to worry about keeping some level of chill, at this point.
she huffs a laugh at the way his brows are pinched together when he lays flat under her again, just enough to make it obvious he's getting frustrated with not being able to kiss her. ]
Just a little more. [ is actually her attempt at being practical - asking for more time to relax around his fingers, not wanting to rush. although honestly it sounds more like she's pleading him for more. which isn't exactly wrong either. her shoulder shifts as she claws into the pillow under his head, already annoyed with not being able to touch him with both hands the way he can. ] Shit, I missed you so much. You- You're so- [ she whines, then leans down to kiss him again, slow, hips still moving in time with her hand on his dick. she actually manages to stay focused on making out with him for a decent bit of time, right up until his fingers curl a certain way, deep inside ] --that, oh, keep - mmhm, yes, yes - fuck, that's - feels really good, you feel so good. [ to the point where she might be a little loopy from it, yeah. ]
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at least not this time, when the anticipation and greediness and molten wet demanding desire has completely snowballed on him. could he lay back and watch her fuck him, in the future? yes. probably. oh, definitely — and he's daydreamed it plenty already. this time, though, it's just not enough for him to watch her, he wants to feel and have and get lost in her, as much as she wants to feel and have and get lost in him. striking the balance is still an awkward dance, while they're remembering the steps. but the difference between 30% and 65% is it is more right than wrong and he can't functionally handle the idea of stopping to readjust and come at it again with constructive criticism in mind.
a little more. he misses the memo that she means time, but honestly same difference in the end. more as in another finger inside her is about the same as more time, isn't it? because now she has to adapt to two, a little closer to the girth she has her palm wrapped around. she seems to flutter around his knuckles like even her sex is starting to anticipate what they're building towards, tight around him as the sensation is new and open and welcoming as she gets used to it, as his fingers move in and out, deeper and intent on spreading as much of her as he can before she finally fits on top of his cock. it's only fair, it's not like he isn't aching for the next step, too — dick weeping a little across Nancy's knuckles, making each path of her palm a little more slick than the last.
there's a shine of the teamwork they used to have, that he sees her leaning down to kiss him and he manages to prop himself high enough to reach, without bashing their mouths together with the uncomfortable clack of teeth as reward for being too overeager. just get close, meet her in the middle, let her come to him. it's not difficult science, not really. it's just impossible not to be overeager, when he's been wanting and missing her for... fuck, he doesn't like to put numbers on it, but... a long time. if he's honest, it's been longer than her dry spell with Jonathan. he couldn't own it, back then, when it felt so pathetic to still be so hung up on a girl that had moved on. he knows now why every girl he saw after Nancy just didn't work out, why none were worth tolerating long distance or forgiving a preference for country music or accepting that they were more of a cat person than a dog person. it wasn't even their fault that they couldn't compare to Nancy Wheeler, because truly nobody ever has. she's always been his one, and pretending she wasn't only lasted as long as it had to.
it's hard to smile into this kiss, but there's still a faded hint of one before he groans at the combination of her muttering and the way she's fucking his fingers and the way she's tightly curled around the base of his cock as she feels it all, not offering more and maybe that's for the best because if he gets much more he might spill all over her hand and these sheets instead of making it inside of her. ) Fuck. Fuck. Jesus, Nancy, you're so-— ( he's not sure how to end that sentence, actually. with two fingers curled inside of her, he can rub at her clit with the pad of his thumb. it's playing dirty, frankly, but sometimes you've got to be in it to win it. Nancy might be afraid she'll implode if he gives her any more, but as far as he's concerned he's pretty sure the more he gives her the easier it'll be when it comes down to it. and he's running out of patience, he's only human. ) I need you so bad, baby. I'm losing my... my goddamn mind. I want my cock inside you, you're so goddamn tight.
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all that said, she just realized the hand she has wrapped around his dick stopped moving at some point, which makes her just about the biggest hypocrite in the world, doesn't it? not that he seems to be feeling that "bad, annoyed impatient" right now... but still!! and it's clear it was especially rude of her when that first pull up his length leaves her palm more slick than she was expecting, clues her back into how he's feeling just as caught up in this as she is, and before she can stop herself, she carefully drops her face to look down between them. she groans at the sight of him in her hand, the head flushed a darker red than it was not too long before, leaking for her. she circles her loose fist just around the head of him then, fingers rubbing along the underside, and she knows it's probably more than a little filthy of her to just- watch like that, even moreso when she hears herself make an embarrassingly needy whining sound in her throat, but she couldn't actually care less, at the moment.
it's JUST- he's- and! like! rrrrgh! right??? damn!!
she looks back up at him, shakes her head to get her hair out of her face, and pulls in a breath to talk- right in time with the pad of his thumb finding her clit and rubbing just right, so all she manages to say is ] Oh-! [ her arm does finally buckle when the way his thumb starts slipping circles makes her tremble, and it's a slow movement, rather than a sudden drop, but luckily she has enough presence of mind to direct her weight to one side instead of straight down. her forehead rests against his chest, back arched, panting harshly until she regains enough sense to pick her head back up to look at him again. well, like. she tries. she's trying. ]
Yeah? You need me? [ if her next exhale sounds a little bit like a laugh.. don't worry about it. she just knows it's ridiculous of her to try and tease him when she has to talk between pressing kisses to his chest because she can't seem to hold herself up properly again yet. but she's not all that worried about it. ] I need you, too. Fuck. M'ready, I can- Yeah, fuck, I'm so ready.
[ she's more focused on inching her knees further apart, body dropping a little lower in the process, closer to his. which definitely puts her in the way of what he's doing, but she's not actually capable of thinking that far into things right now. ... although luckily she's not so far gone that she forgets - ]
--Wait, oh, Steve, whuh, Steve. Condom. Where's my-? [ she grunts after another swirl of steve's thumb on her clit makes her hips rut forward, then she laughs, pushes herself to sit up properly again, and pulls her hand away from his cock so she can cover his hand that's moving between her thighs instead, slowly pulling away. ] C'mon, c'mon, c'mon. I'll be back. Two seconds. Stay right here, don't move. [ she dips down to give him a kiss, too quick for her liking, but only because she doesn't want too get distracted. she shivers from the sudden chill of not being all up in his space anymore, but! she's determined! gonna move this along! ] Mm, actually, maybe scoot back? [ her eyes flick up over him, toward the headboard. because yeah, there will be no more struggling for kisses past this point, thank you!!
she's a little wobbly on her feet when she gets off the bed, but she doesn't let that slow her down from padding over to her bag and bending down to rifle through it. she's quick to find the little box, still sealed in clear cellophane - brandy new! - though it takes her a second of fucking around with said cellophane before it finally breaks and she can tear it all off. whatever! the box is coming with her as she hops back up onto the bed and settles on her knees next to him, too impatient to spend more time not touching him than she needs to. even if right now it's just her knee nudged into his thigh. the only problem is that because she's trying to rush, it's taking her longer to actually open up the little foil package, fingers slipping. too horny to function, it seems. ] Oh, come on.
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it's like getting this close to finishing a puzzle and there's just one piece missing. knowing what goes there is fucking hell, too, because you really know what it's like and you can picture it there just fine but you just can't make do with anything else. it has to be the right piece. Nancy has always been his right piece, as cheesy and stupid as that sounds. for awhile he wondered if he just wasn't her right piece, which was depressing, but believable. it's a little soon to be confident, that he can be that missing piece that makes everything right for her. he's ... he's definitely starting to hope on a maybe, though. he's gonna try his fucking hardest to be that piece no matter what.
his head is too blurry to ask questions and verify when Nancy announces she's ready. it doesn't feel like they spent long with his fingers buried in her. that said, Nancy has never been the type to say she's ready when she's not. it never works out to doubt Nancy, either. even if she's just shoving ahead and figuring it out as she goes, it's better to figure it out with her than it is to try and change her mind. ) Nancy, ( is all Steve manages against the kiss that is supposed to satisfy him in the interrim, especially as her hand gets a little tighter-faster in her fervor to get things moving. which feels so good! and then she's just gone. he makes a guttural noise, like a goddamn caveman, or Steve Carell after he got his chest forcefully waxed, just to be deprived of her. what the fuck. what the fuck! a hand even tries to chase after her, buried momentarily in the sweat-damp mess of her curls before she gets too far away for even that to fetch a condom.
shit. right. yup. they need that, don't they. it is part of the older-and-wiser upgrade. Steve is your average guy, and absolutely prefers sex without a condom. but, despite somewhat shameful conversations about a big family one day — one day is not today. and a condom is required to keep that a in-the-future sort of situation. he does take the opportunity to fix the positioning misstep as suggested, settling his back against the bedframe, head loosely hanging as he watches Nancy slink around. there might be some merits to distance, because honestly he's not sure he's ever really seen her like this. there was always sheets, or, cover of darkness, or clothes, something in the way. Nancy in her naked glory, wild hair and flushed cheeks and her perky breasts alert and at attention, nipples hard — and even a little blushed from his mouth all over them. best yet, the wet shine of her arousal seeping down her thighs, arousal he caused, want for him slippy-sliding down her leg... yeah, okay, he can handle distance for ten seconds or so. worth it!
they should really have clawed that box open before clothes came off. more constructive criticism for next time. open that shit immediately on purchase from now on. even though watching Nancy frustratedly tear into it like an animal was kinda hot, truth be told.
really, Steve should let Nancy alone as she crawls back into bed. let her focus on the condom so they can get to the part where their bodies are working together, finally putting all this want and need somewhere it can see some satisfaction. he doesn't, though. the second she's near enough he leans back into her space, pulling her hair away from her neck to suck and kiss and bite along her throat like a horny vampire. and his hands sneak around her to knead her ass, because what, was he supposed to just sit here? do nothing??? not a chance. and it's just thoughtful placement, really. the second the condom is on he can drag her back into his lap, and then she can sink on top of him and they'll both see stars and finally stop missing each other, already. )
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her nose scrunches when her thumb slips against lubricated rubber, but good, finally, shit. she doesn't try to move away from him, not a chance, not even a tiny bit, but she does roll her head forward instead of to the side so she can watch what she's doing. and maybe it's been a while, but there's no fumbling with this part, like she's being tested on her knowledge of the textbook rules for safe sex 101, how to put on a condom. ..well like, okay, giving him a few slow tugs with a tight grip isn't exactly textbook, but y'know what? it was actually literally impossible to resist touching him more before rolling the condom down.
fuck, he's so hot. she's so into him that it might actually become an issue, moving forward. like, how is she ever going to find the willpower or motivation to do basically anything besides fool around with her boyfriend, ever again? so of course she's not about to call him out for his porn star voice, or the lack of subtlety in his reaction to what they're doing, because she's not being subtle either. the filter that was already paper thin is gone now. who the hell has the spare energy for that? not nancy, obviously, because she's really about to lose it, and all it took was feeling the tight resistance of the last bit of the condom stretching around him as she rolled it down with her thumbs. safe sex is sexy yeah yeah yeah but it's the way that the rubber ring around the end of that condom is fighting for its life right now that's making her feel something just shy of completely feral.
at least she has enough presence of mind to wipe the lube off of her fingertips before turning to dig both of her hands in his hair and drag him up from her neck so she could kiss him? ( yes, she did she wipe them off on his thigh, and then her own when she noticed she missed some, but she'd argue that's a pretty insignificant detail. ) she doesn't ease up her grip even once she's slowly lifting so she can hitch her knee up and over to settle on the opposite side of his hip, or when one of her hands moves to his shoulder to help her stay balanced. the thoughtful placement of his hands on her ass is definitely helping too, but she's feeling too out of her mind to actually realize that.
her forehead rests against his as she breaks the kiss to pull in a few panting breaths, and she's too close to actually be able to meet his eyes when she finally opens hers again, but she still tries anyway. she really wants to say something, too, tell him- something, anything, but words are impossible when she's distracted by her lips feeling tingly-bruised again. and, well, everything else. the hand in his hair slips down to the back of his neck, the one on his shoulder down to his chest, and maybe the next move should be urging him to settle back again, but... she hates the thought of putting any distance between them? so she won't be doing that. it means she's flying a little blind when she reaches down between them to angle his cock towards her, but that's- not exactly rocket science. even horny dumbdumb brain can manage that. ]
Oh. [ unfortunately horny dumbdumb brain can't manage to resist dragging him over her folds, groaning when it catches on her clit. it's counter-productive to hold him still while he rocks her hips when he's not actually inside her yet, but she can't seem to help wanting to chase down that sensation. not until she rubs him back over her entrance. then she's right back on track. it also finally clues her into the fact that maybe she did rush the prep, a little bit. ah. ] Fuck, Steve. [ she huffs a laugh, shoulders shaking with it, because her tone sure did sound a little accusatory there, huh? like it's his fault she might've overestimated herself here. it was one thing to see him, and another thing to feel him in the grip of her hand, but it's entirely different to feel the blunt pressure of him against her hole as she sits what's probably just a fraction of an inch lower, no matter how turned on she is. ] M'good, I got this. [ she kisses him, for emphasis! ] Just need to go slow. [ one more kiss! for more emphasis! but this time she leans back after, with a small circle of her hips that nudges him deeper. her brow pinches, because that's- just the head, she's pretty sure, which is dizzying because she already needs to take a second to relax around it, but it's definitely not enough to deter her. nope. if anything, in the pauses between each rock or press down to take more of him, that pinched determination is very quickly melting back to a punch-drunk arousal that has her lips parting and her lids dropping lower, even as she fights to keep her eyes on his. it helps that once he's deep enough that she doesn't need to hold his dick steady anymore, she can use those fingers to rub slow over her clit. when she lifts herself up just to slowly sink back down, lower still, the way she ] Steve. [ moans his name ( again ) sounds a little broken, but not in a bad way. at all. ]
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and, of course, he likes it because Nancy can make him that way, easy. and it's not like he was smart or articulate ahead of time!!! so considering that she can make him into a horny caveman with just a little quirk of a smirk or her hand wandering into his pocket with just a little squeeze, it is reassuring that he can make her just as wildly desperate. balance is real important, you know?
Steve can be real precious about his hair. you don't get that devil-may-care swoop on accident, okay? still, if there is any occasion he does not give a shit about it getting mussed, it is this particular moment. Nancy could have put a whole fistful of lubed fingers in it to the point it stuck up in a Harry Met Sally moment and Steve still wouldn't have cared, because lube on her fingers from a condom just meant they were so close. in fact, Steve just huffs a husky laugh at the smudging of her fingers on her leg and then his before he can't manage much. besides getting lost in her mouth, arms pulling her in close and drawing the taste of her desperately onto his tongue, that is. he scrunches his grip from her ass to her legs, kneading and steadying all at once.
Nancy finally breaks and presses in against him, and he can't really look at her so much as nuzzle toward her heat, the sharp smell of her hairspray and the striking features of her face. he wildly and remembers Nancy telling him about the elf princess character she made, back when she did tabletop with Mike. it makes all sorts of sudden perfect sense, actually. her eyes, her nose, her mouth, they're all soft and delicate. almost innocent? except for right now. when her mouth is stained red and her eyes are unfocused with heady want. innocent isn't the right word anymore. he still thinks she's beautiful, and he's seeing her like a Piccasso painting. all bits and pieces and elements and curves of eyelashes and soft little freckles and a hint of a smile line — she's the most breathtaking thing he's ever seen.
to be fair, it is pretty goddamn hard to keep oxygen in his lungs as she finally drags him along her entrance. she's so hot. it makes his dick ache as the lube mixes with her arousal, slippy-sliding in a delightful away but not-quite-enough way, either. he doesn't really mean to curve his hips in a greedy rock towards her cunt, it's entirely brainless instinct. ) Christ, Nancy, you're so tight, baby, ( and it is mumbled against her mouth because she's leaning in to kiss him again, even as she sinks a little lower, taking him more and more and just a little bit more before she's moving back and sinking again and it's so slow Steve thinks he's gonna lose his mind. but who is he kidding, though, he lost it a long ass time ago. he's been crazy about Nancy since Junior year. and that was before Demogorgons and Demodogs and Russian codes at Starcourt Mall.
part of him wants to roll them over, press her legs open on the mattress and push all the way inside her. fuck slow, rip off the bandaid, what could go wrong? right? but the last remaining shred of sense knows he can do that later, when she's already had him once. maybe more than once. when her body remembers what it is like to be touched. Steve is not gonna let her body forget, if he has a say in the matter. so instead one arm winds around her, holding her close, and the other palm lands on her thigh to stroke and coax her as she lifts and sinks and acclimates. it is taking every inch of willpower not to push for faster when the rhythm is frankly excruciating, so there's nothing left to dissect what he says before it tumbles out of his mouth. ) Good, that's good, you're so good, baby. That's my girl, my good girl. Just a little more, fuck, fuck, Nancy.
( that was fuck as in you feel so exquisitely good I can't even properly articulate how much I want you, not fuck Nancy. but also, kind of that. and if he's guiding her to roll her hips forward and cock inside her just that bit more, well... look. slow, yeah. but nobody ever said he couldn't help, all right? )
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and that particular string of words, said in that particular way, definitely fits the fucking bill, because what the fuck? she was already feeling flush all over, she can feel the those pinpricks of heat along the top of her cheeks, down her neck, along her collarbones, across her chest, and literally everywhere his hands are touching her, but he says all that and her brain immediately tries to cling onto each part of it to obsess over. her eyes slam shut as she makes a sort choked-off, breathy moan- the sound getting pulled out of her a little louder when he tugs her closer. and despite the way she's completely distracted, the hand between them didn't stop moving until just now when even just that small bit of friction on her clit became too much. she touches his stomach, just her fingers lightly trailing until she's pressing her palm to his ribs, holding onto him there while he other hand stays curled around the back of his neck.
that's my girl, my good girl. ]
God. Yeah. Yes. [ her words might get lost when she exhales right before kissing him again, but hopefully the way her teeth catch his lip and bite down before she licks into his mouth and kisses him silly got her point across. although the vague agreement to d. all of the above isn't the main point she's trying to make anyway. her forehead presses to his when she breaks the kiss with a moan, and she leans into him even more ( always, it's kind of her thing ), wanting to feel his arm curl around her tighter. because- ] Yours, yeah. M'yours. [ those are the words that her brain ( and her heart, moreso ) is completely focused on, because- well it's true, isn't it? he said it. and it's true for her, so why shouldn't she say it? ] Yours. [ again, and this time with a little less sex-drunk slurring, and a little more clarity. her thighs squeeze him on either side as she hitches her hips down, closer, taking more of him quicker than before, and she's so damn close to being fully seated on his lap that her thighs are trembling with the effort to keep herself from doing so, but she doesn't go for it yet, slowly rolling her hips a few times to feel him move inside her instead. not that she's satisfied with just that for very long. ] Fuck, I need it. Need you. Give it to me, please, c'mon. Just take it. [ as if she's not completely in control of that. whatever. she's out of her mind, sue her. ] Steve, fuck me.
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because it could have just been horny Madlibs, both of them so out of their mind nothing has to really make sense. it feels good and being his girl when he's nearly buried inside of her is just a predictable thing to say. Nancy doesn't have to spare oxygen to agree, nor cleave herself away from his mouth to make sure he understands. she's right, even tilting her weight upward to press her forehead to his made his arm wind around her just a little tighter. it could have just been about the sex, is all. it's been so long. nobody would have held it against either party or they just wanted to get down to it, now that they decided they were ready. only, maybe that was the whole point of taking it slow. that they'd be sure they wanted more than just how good they made each other feel in the heat of things. they wanted each other all the time. high points and low points and grumpy from not enough sleep and harried about finals half functional over 3am truckstop pancakes and everything in between. he didn't know he needed that reminder that it's all of it, he has all of her, until she says it. more than says it, doubles down. yours laced with enough ecstasy that it almost feels like she's getting off on knowing it, nearly as much as the twisting at her clit and the way she's grinding against his cock. )
Nancy, ( he moans, and there's so many things pinned into that word, it's almost impossible to isolate any of them. arousal, need, delight, feelings that never really went anywhere and used to fall out of him so easy and god he wants to say it. just tell her. it's got to be obvious. he loves her, god he loves her, when she's heady-needy and her thighs are shaking with her determination to take every inch of him inside of her — or when she's wrinkling her nose at a book or frowning in that Nancy way when some old pensioner is being an asshole to the waitress a few tables down. he loves her, Steve thinks he never really stopped and maybe he doesn't know how to stop. and being with her just like this, he doesn't want to learn. he wants to say it, he just... can't. it catches at the back of his teeth, locked there. maybe sex isn't the only thing they need to take it slow with. he's not going to ruin things by admitting things she may not be ready for yet. so what if it's true? it'll still be true, when she's ready to say it too.
and then she goes on that ramble. I need it. Just take it. and part of him is conflicted, wanting to watch her ride him. he's always liked it, and he knows Nancy likes it too. the smug little self assured smile she gets, her palms on his shoulders or her arms curled around his neck with her tits in his face as she breaks. but the way she's shaking makes him think she's not ready for that, and he's not sure either of them can wait until she is. Nancy has done more than her fair share, here. he's gotta do his part, too. his brain is a little hazy on how to execute that instruction, but there's no way he won't give Nancy what she wants when he's practically out of his mind wanting the same. )
Need it, ( he repeats, and it could just be broken caveman grunting, replicating sounds he hears without really comprehending the meaning. but as his grip around Nancy tightens so he can lay her back and bear down on top of her, mouth washing over her neck and breast and heartbeat in fleeting worship, it's just a momentary reprieve before he aligns his hips to sink just that bit deeper. fuck, he missed this, the way they fit. when he presses down between her legs he can feel his cock inside her, and it's always made him a fucking madman. he rocks a shallow stroke, feeling the way she clenches exquisitely around him with a moan. ) Need it how, baby? Tell me, tell me, Nancy. ( he asks but he doesn't wait for an answer. she'll have to decide on more or faster or harder or slower as he starts to move. shallow and slow to start, as she acclimates to him buried this deep inside her again. it's a start, but whatever she wants she can have. because fuck she feels so good like this, pressed against him and with him and around him. )
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Oh, fuck.
[ it's definitely for the best that she isn't on top of him right now, because her brain function all but cuts out once he rocks into her that last bit, letting her finally feel him. like, really feel him. all of him. she probably would have ended up dropping down on top of him, but- not in a sexy, intimate way. more like her arms and core muscles would have checked out in favor of curling up against his chest. this is much better, because he sinks into her, and her brain function drops down to "horny idiot", and muscle memory takes over. her hips pitch up, thighs falling open wider, and one of her hands slips down to the back of his neck to brace herself that way. some part of her must have realized that hair tugging gets much less enjoyable when its with both hands, so. yeah. just the one is scratching through it, grabbing tighter again once he starts to move.
need it how?
great question. brilliant question. unfortunately the ability to use her words is still broken, so at first all she manages is a low moan between panting breaths, thighs squeezing his sides, heels digging into his lower back. ]
Steve. [ she's definitely whining. already. damn. focus, wheeler. ] You feel so good. Making me feel so good. Shit, I can't- [ words. she can't words. she's trying though. she's also starting to move with him, using her legs to help her rock her hips up every time he presses in, body curling up a bit. ] Slow, just like this. But- harder, please, I need it harder. [ she's definitely not going to try and verbalize how much she likes feeling the deep stretch of him bottomed out inside her every time he thrusts in, or how it's making her feel fucking crazy, knowing that she'd feel the outline of him if she pressed on her lower belly right now. it's just like- a lot, to try and put into words. filthy in a way she's not totally sure she's capable of just yet. ]
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they might not be to the well oiled machine stage of knowing each other like they used to be, at least not yet. but the rust is coming off and it's a relief that it isn't that hard to find their way back to each other. and while he thinks there's definitely more exciting things they'd like to do to each other and positions they're curious to try, maybe sweet and simple for their second first time is a good place to start. missionary works for a reason, doesn't it? and while harder might be easier if he were standing — or she was on that table, how sturdy is that table, and if it's not sturdy how much would they have to pay if they break that table — it isn't as if he can't sink deep into her just like this. he might have to spare one elbow to balance himself on top of her, but the other hand is free to fish for hers. pin it above her head as his cock sinks inside her and the filthy little smack of skin on skin starts to echo, as his cock works inside her and she arches and bucks up to take it. )
Fuck, Nance — ( is his first choked affirmation, trying to fit the words between thrusts. ) Okay, no more talking, ( he suggests, because maybe Nancy is not the only one regressing to horny idiot emergency power. he was frankly a bully to make her try and talk through that!!! as if to reinforce the no talking, Steve doesn't so much kiss her as lands his open mouth close to hers, groan-y throat-y moans and all. look, it's a start. surely both of them can agree that the pace they're starting to hit is more important than words right now. because the winding up heat in his gut as she clenches around him is burning all over and everywhere, and not that slowly either. finally the more more more they've been missing. needing.
and he wants to feather this out as long as he can even though it's practically a fools errand, like trying to keep a fire from catching when you've doused all the dry kindling in kerosene. )
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and then they broke up. and jonathan never held her hand. not when they were in bed, or in the car, or at the movies, or anywhere else. jonathan was.. not a hand-holder. and as soon as she realized that, the way steve used to hold her hand very quickly climbed close to the top of the list of things she missed most about being with him. and unlearning the habit was something that made her heart ache.
and no, it's absolutely not the first time he's held her hand since they got back together or anything - she's had plenty of breath-catchy moments already because of that - but this is very different. so yeah, she gets caught up in it for a long moment, holding on tight, the hand in his hair gripping tighter, too.
okay, no more talking. nancy's so far ahead of him already, but she nods anyway, a quick bob that slows down once he's leaning down closer, makes her lips drag up over his and back down. and steve- fuck, there's another other thing she missed, but she didn't realize it until right this second - the fucking sounds he makes when they start to really get into things like this. tommy and carol might have teased the hell out of her for getting loud during their first time together, but it's not like she was the only one, okay!! and somehow, the way she remembers it back then hardly compares to the way he sounds now. it makes her pull at his hair harder without even really meaning to, high at the crown of his head where it's thickest. her body tightens around his cock too, and she's pretty sure he's going to be sore where her heels have slid down to the small of his beck, digging in harder. but that's fair, honestly, because she's going to be sore, too. basically everywhere. ]
Yeah, yeah, yeah- [ it's possibly a step up from the way she's been "responding" to each of his thrusts with staccato uh, uh, uhs, but she isn't really all that clued into whether or not she's actually saying words at the moment, no. she's mostly focused on the fact that she can practically feel him in her guts every time he bottoms out, and that his chest hair adds a friction against the peaked buds of her nipples that she so wasn't expecting but could definitely get used to, and that her fingers have started to alternate between trying to squirm out from between his and holding on tighter. which is what usually happens when she's hit this point, edging along her first orgasm. there's an impatient part of her that wants to rush it, get her hand free so she can reach down and rub fast circles over her clit until she's coming, but she knows she doesn't actually need it. after their first few times together, they learned pretty quickly that whatever pace he's set that makes her start squirming like she is now is all she actually needs to get there. but knowing that doesn't mean she's not going to act needy and whine for it. ..right after she picks her head up enough to sink her teeth into his bottom lip and tug down so she can lick into his mouth, kissing him deep. ] Ooh, Steve! [ it's canon!!!! it's also why they rented a hotel room, right? so she's not trying to be quiet. ] Steve, you're gonna make me come, fuck, fuck, don't stop-
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or, scratch that. because Nancy yanks on a good handful of his hair, and it earns a ragged sound and a drawn out, slurred fuuuuuuuuuckkkk of approval. his perfect hair is going to have a fist print in it after this, thanks to the tugging and the sweat caught at the roots. Steve can't be bothered to care about how the incredible hold of his hairspray will only make the disaster worse when they come up for air. he can only care about the slide of his cock, keeping his pace sharp and hitting her in that spot just right that makes her toes curl. he's only got so long; there's so much pent up frustration and desire from not being with anyone, compounded by being with Nancy and not being with her like this, all to prove some stupid point. what was he thinking. jesus christ. that they have spent weeks not doing exactly this seems to be a complete moral failing, because god she feels so perfect. she's always felt like this. deeper, better, more than any girl he's ever been with. did they really prove anything by managing to keep their hands out of each other's pants all this time, or just make it harder for themselves when they finally let themselves go?
because it does feel difficult, to focus on the movement, and not blowing his load before they can get Nancy anywhere close. fingering her first and stretching her out was a slow-and-steady sort of thing, and now that they're off to the races Steve is desperate not to cum too quickly and have things be over when they've been waiting so long. and it sure as shit doesn't help when Nancy starts to wriggle and keen against him, because Steve remembers exactly what that means. remembering exactly how Nancy moves and sounds as she gets close to orgasm is a lot for him right now. biting, and telling him she's close, and exactly how loud and turned on and demanding she's being? that's a lot for him right now too. too much in fact. he feels it like a rubber band being snapped, breaking suddenly and sharply and a little painfully if you're on the wrong side of things. he's not, at least, but coming with stars behind his eyes makes him stall out a second and the lady literally just said don't stop!!! )
Shit, Nance, ( he gasps, hips jutting and spasming a little as the worst of his orgasm hits like a truck, threads of muscle in his back tight and his weight falling almost entirely on top of her as he fucks her jaggedly through it before he stalls, like a train stopped at the tracks. very much blowing the don't of don't stop. he feels liquid and warm and lost in her and it is tempting to just swim in all that ecstasy, but as the brunt of it clears his brain starts to work again. slowly coming back to life, piece by piece. ) Sorry, ( he moans, offering a messy smattering of kisses as his body remembers how to function and the important orders he was just delivered. he... didn't want to cum first. that wasn't quite how he wanted this to go. BUT. he's not soft yet, there's still time before he's completely useless. his strokes are more shallow, now, interested mostly in ending as deep inside her as he can manage and the satisfying pressure of them coming together, over and over and over, that seems to drive her completely mental. ) C'mon, baby. Please, Nance. Come on.
( he needs her to finish too. if his cock can't manage it then his mouth will. he is not going to lie around here waiting for his dick to work again to hear Nancy Wheeler orgasm for the first time in years. it just is not happening. )
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oh. some things really are impossible to forget, quite literally, because she definitely knows that tone. she knows what it means when his voice does that! when it sounds like his jaw's refusing to make way for the words to get out, and his breathing gets a little hiccupy, and she's split right down the middle on this one. she feels her body slink away from the tipping point just enough to make her squirm under him again, involuntary, in a way he'd probably tease her for in a different context, where he meant to pull her back. which is frustrating!! but the other half of her is still a bit delirious from how turned on she is, and the way he fucked into her those last couple of times before losing it and sinking down on top of her was more than enough to keep her from feeling anything close to actual frustration. because it turns out she wanted to see him lose it just as badly as he wanted to see her do the same.
her fingers relax their grip in his hair so she can scratch along his scalp, and she tips her head to the side to kiss his wrist, panting out a few breaths she didn't realize she was keeping in. she's trying to keep the whining and moving under him to a minimum because she knows it's going to be a moment - she's only been with two people but both of them seem to lose brain function right after they come, it's something she's just accepted - but it's hard. she was sofuckingclose.
and he knows it too, because he's apologizing. and she's trying to kiss him back properly, but her breathless smile is making it difficult, she knows - ] Shh, s'okay. [ - because it is, it's okay. she knows they're not done here, not by a long shot, and if anything? she knows he's about to make it up to her, sooo. what's left to forgive, really?
although she wasn't expecting him to make it up to her immediately, so that first rock of his hips makes her suck in a breath, face scrunching up a little bit. she's just a little confused?? ] You-? [ she's used to there being more downtime, honestly!! and the lack of said downtime isn't a bad thing, like, at all, but she just didn't think.......... but, he is, so! ] --oh, fuck, okay. Yeah. [ look, she's not about to question it. she might later, somehow, but right now she's trying to shove her thinky-brain aside so she can get back to where she was just a second ago. right back on the edge. and luckily it really does drive her insane, the shift in things. how he's pressed closer to her now, not even pulling his hips away very far before rocking back into her. she knows, realistically, that the way his cock fills her every time his hips hit flush against hers doesn't feel any different than it did before, but something is different. and it's not just the fact that he's giving her much more friction against her clit now, this way.
... okay, maybe that's a big part of it. but the buildup is more of a slow burn this time, has her looping her arm around his neck to hold on tight and keep him close, and she rocks her hips to match his rhythm as she gets closer again, almost without meaning to. maybe they still have some catching up to do before they're perfectly in sync, but some part of her must remember, because it's not long before she's tensing up under him again, jaw slack, her thighs tucking up higher and a little tighter around his waist again, shifting the angle.
there's also something about him begging her to come that's doing it for her, too. who'da thought? ]
Yeah, that's it, that's it. [ her hand is gripping his tight again, the fingers in his hair, too. like she has to hold onto something to keep from completely losing her mind. she's whining again, although she can't quite move around as much under him with the way he's pinning her to the bed, and that's adding something new and confusing and perfect to this, too. she cries when she finally comes, a sound that's almost a sob with relief, every muscle she has any control over tightening up, thighs trembling against his sides. she tries to keep moving on him as much as she can, but it's more of a grind than the same rocking from before. ] Sh-Shit, ohmygod. [ her palm flattens to settle at the back of his neck, squeezing as she shudders against him again, whimpering. but she resists relaxing beyond that just yet, heels digging into his lower back again. ] Stay. Just like this, c'mere. [ he's pretty much already laying on top of her, but she still winds her arm around him to drag him down more, wanting to feel him everywhere. her brain feels like cotton candy, too. in a good way, though. the best way. ]
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they've got a timeline, here. between what is left of being hard quickly turns into pushing rope. so his encore is distinctly more desperate than before, and it isn't like he'd been lacking on that front the first round. it's just she was so close. used to be they were pretty in sync, with these things. he could hold back just long enough, or they'd work her up first so getting her to crash through a finish was just a bit of fingers or maybe the back of his palm pressed hard against her clit. he knows the sounds she's making, the wild, uncomfortable way she's moving, the flush crawling up her neck and the pinpoint of her pupils, Steve knows she's close. he's not just going to call it quits before they get there, even if it isn't quite how he wanted their second first to go.
the problem before was expecting perfection, that they could just jump back into the thick of it without putting the time in. like running a marathon right after they got cleared to ditch the crutches. throwing that out the window, focusing on making the most of what they've got — maybe it's not perfect, maybe Foreigner isn't providing a soft crooning ambiance, maybe it isn't some first magical moment. to be fair their first time wasn't perfect either, and that was before a girl got munched in his pool. perfect is more or less impossible. making the best of being with Nancy again, well... that he can do. hell, it's pretty easy to do, when she still melts under his touch. still knows just how she likes to jut back and slide against him, knows how to hold herself in that spot that makes her body sing. it's sloppy and fraught and desperate and delightful. and in the end, it's enough. he feels it before it hits, the way the inner muscles of her thighs go tight and then shiver-shudder clench as she falls to pieces under him and around him all at once. )
Yes, just... just like that, Nancy. God you're so fucking — ( sexy? beautiful? everything he could imagine and more? yes. whatever he meant to articulate, he can't, especially as the exhaustion of completion hits. the movement can stop and he can just get lost in the afterglow, which is pretty afterglow-y, right now. used to be, Steve worried more, about laying on top of her. if anything it makes more sense to worry about it now than it did then, because he was a lot more tooth-picky in high school. that swimmer diet kicked his ass until he didn't have to bother anymore. there's a great deal more of him to bear down on her, now, it's just he couldn't care less. Nancy will whine if her legs start to fall asleep. she's a lot less fragile than she looks, and fragile she does look, sort of like one of those porcelain dolls his mom keeps in her closet only with a much more modern haircut. (some post nut thoughts are best to keep to oneself.) he can wind her close and be her heavy boy blanket at least long enough for their brains to turn back on again.
his mouth hurts from all the kissing. it's not a bad kind of sting. he still uses his teeth to catch a spot under her jaw close to her neck, that spot that always smells most like Nancy after they fuck. for important, not at all caveman reasons, he really likes that spot. his brain doesn't really have the capacity for coherent thought just yet, it just wants to double down in nancynancynancy. that spot always helps with that. having his mouth busy is a good way to keep the post sex i love you to himself. maybe it is obvious, at this point. he feels like the dumb dopey expression he wears when he looks at her sort of gives it away. still, holding onto that a little longer since they've technically only been dating again a few months? feels like a good call. )