#inexperienced smut prompts

[blooming-violets]

“You’re doing so well.”

"You're doing so well." || Inexperienced Smut Prompts

[tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader]

Warnings: It's a smut prompt so you will be reading about two people fucking. Obviously.

“I can’t study Physics like this,” you whined. “We can’t do this here.”

Peter had taken it upon himself this semester to personally tutor you for your finals. He had developed an interest in you when you quietly shuffled into the seat beside him on your first day. He knew Physics was your least favorite subject and, if you failed, you’d have to retake the class again next year without him. Every week he would inch himself closer and closer to you during your sessions until, late one night, tucked away in his dorm room, you experienced both your first kiss and lost your virginity within the span of an hour. Peter knew how to manipulate your body in ways that made it impossible to ever want to stop. He could turn you from a studious, quietly reserved woman to a moaning, desperate whore in a matter of seconds. 

Tonight, he had you sat on his lap. Literally. He picked you up and placed you down wherever he saw fit. Your underwear had been torn down your legs and stuffed into his pocket the second you met him in the student lounge. There were no “hellos” or friendly greetings. You hadn’t even had time to remove your bag from your shoulder before you were being exposed to him. He knew what he wanted, when he wanted, and he didn’t care where it was. The student lounge was empty this Sunday evening, thankfully, but it still terrified you to be doing this in such a public area. You tried to encourage him to take you back to his dorm room but that was when he had pulled you onto his lap, ending the debate before it even started.  

Your legs straddled on either side of his thighs, your pleated skirt curtained over the two of you to hide what was happening underneath, though any college student who glanced this way would know exactly what was going on. Peter’s cock was buried inside of you as you faced him on the couch. Large, hard, and completely stretching you as far as your recently deflowered pussy could handle. His cock was the first thing you ever dared put inside of you and it wasn’t a small task. You had cried the first time he split you open despite how gentle he tried to be. Now, it felt almost at home buried between your folds, even if you were in a public area. Your brain was saying no but your body was screaming yes.

There were no thoughts inside of your head anymore. Only Peter and his cock. His hands brushed over your baby pink blouse, running along your spine, as he cooed in your ear, “Shh, baby, it’s alright. No one is going to see you. No one will see how much of a needy, little whore you are. Your secret is safe with me. I’ll know if anyone is headed this way. You just focus on the questions.” 

You shivered when you felt his cock twitch inside of you. Neither of you moved a muscle. Your eyes closed as your breath hitched in your throat, another whine whimpering from your lips, “Peter.”

“Come on,” he urged. “Answer the question I asked. You should have been listening.” 

His hands slipped to the front of your blouse, his fingers working to slowly undo every button. You held your breath, biting down on your bottom lip. You had no idea what he had said prior to sitting on his lap. He had been reading something out of the textbook leaning on the cushion beside him. He knew you weren’t listening. He enjoyed the turmoil he caused and liked watching your brain short circuit in his presence. 

Peter reached behind your open shirt to unhook your bra, giving him easy access to your chest, “If you don’t answer me, I’m going to remove your shirt and leave you completely topless…out in the open…where anyone could walk by at any moment…I wonder how embarrassing it would be if someone saw you like that? Imagine what they would think of you then?” 

You gave a sharp inhale, eyes widening in horror, “Please, don’t.” 

“Would it really be a shame if someone else saw these beautiful tits?” He raised the cups of your bra so he could admire your chest. “I can’t be the first person to have laid eyes on them. Surely someone else must have gotten there before me.” 

He knew damn well that no one had ever seen you naked before him. The wicked glint in his eye told you everything you needed to know. His teasing was nothing more than empty threats. Peter would rather die than share you with anyone.

You gave a bratty grumble and rested your forehead against his, “You’re a terrible, mean tutor.” 

A devilish smilish toyed on his lips, “Do you need me to repeat the question?” 

“Mhm,” you whined. 

His hand slipped under your loose bra to cup your breasts. He carefully pinched your nipple between his finger and thumb, brushing over it with small, fast flicks. 

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head and you inadvertently bucked your hips. The sudden movement on his cock caused a satisfied groan to rumble in the back of Peter’s throat. 

“Focus, baby.” He growled in your ear. “Don’t lose yourself. Not yet. Sit still.” 

The urge to wiggle your hips was too much. Your clit was aching, begging to be touched, desperate for any sort of friction. Your toes curled in your shoes as you repressed a whimper. 

“The question, Peter. Ask me the question again. I’ll be good.”

He nipped at the side of your jaw and mumbled the question against your skin, remembering the exact phrasing without even having to glance back at the book, “A charged particle traveling along the +x axis enters an electric field directed vertically upward along the +y-axis. If the charged particle experiences a force downward because of this field, what is the sign of the charge on this particle?” 

He was speaking a language foreign to you. All you could think about was how wonderful he felt inside of you and how all you wanted to do was move your hips.

When you took too long to answer, he responded by giving a hard tug on your nipple, causing you to flinch in pain. 

“Is the charge positive, negative, or neutral?” He began kneading your breast to help soothe out any pain he gave you. “Come on, pretty girl. You know this. Use that brain of yours for something other than cocksucking. If you get it right, I’ll give you a nice reward.” 

“I-” You tried to steady your breath. The fact that you had his dick inside of you in the middle of a public space didn’t even bother you anymore. All you wanted was for him to satisfy you. You didn’t care who saw. “Negative! It’s negative.”

A proud smile broke out across his face, lighting up his eyes, “Good girl! Now tell me why it’s negative and I’ll give you what I know you want.” 

“Nnghh,” words were becoming difficult to form. You couldn’t stop yourself from moving, just a little bit, to give your body what it needed. 

“Use your words, pretty girl, come on,” he chided you. 

“It’s…oh, god…it’s negative because positive charges in an-an electric field will have an electric force in the same direction as the field. And…negative…will be in the opposite direction…so…it-it’s negative because the charged particle experiences a force opposite to the electric field.” 

“That’s my smart girl. Let me show you how proud I am of you, baby.” He placed a quick peck to your lips before thrusting his hips upwards as you stifled a shocked yelp. 

You didn’t even know he could reach that deep. You felt like you could feel him bulging out your stomach. His hands left your chest to fall down around your hips, gripping them tightly, helping to move you with each small thrust. It wasn’t enough. He was dragging it out, still teasing you, wanting to make you work for it. If you wanted to give your body what it needed, you would need to take control. 

You braced your hands on his shoulders for better leverage and began to ride him. Your pace grew from soft, little thrusts to long, hard strokes, finding a steady rhythm. Tears blurred your vision at the overwhelming sensations of how exceptional he felt. The wait was almost too much but now there was no stopping you. 

Peter’s head had fallen back against the couch cushions, his eyes closed, “Fuck, that’s good.” 

You responded with a quiet whimper, nuzzling your face into his cheek to try to get his attention back on your face, “I want to be good for you.” 

He opened his eyes to give you a soft smile, murmuring against your puckered lips, “You’re always so good for me, babygirl.” His slights gazed down to watch as you rose and fell over him, impaling his cock into you. He liked to watch it disappear, liked to watch as you took it all, every last millimeter like the good girl you were. “That’s it. Take it all. You’re so tight, babe. So tight for me.” 

You couldn’t do anything except chase the divine sensations rolling through your body. The pleasure rippled through you, the knot tightening in your stomach. With every thrust, you were closer to the finish line. It didn’t take much for you to get there. Everything still felt so new, so fresh, that every sensation sent you spiraling. Peter’s hands tangled in your hair, gripping onto the back of your head, as he pulled you close against his chest. Quiet sobs racked through your body. You felt silly for crying over how good his cock felt but you couldn’t stop. He reduced you to a shaking, shivering, sobbing mess in a matter of seconds. 

“Shh,” his soothing voice whispered in your ear. “It’s okay, pretty girl. You’re doing so good for me. You’re doing so well. That’s it. Just take a little bit more. We’re almost there. I’ve got you.” 

Peter took over, moving his hips, filling you to your core. He switched his pace from yours. Instead of your frenzied, jerking thrusts, he penetrated you with a slow, deliberate intensity. He cupped your cheeks, drawing your attention to him. 

“Kiss me,” he whispered in a husky, low tone. 

Your nose brushed against his soft skin as your lips crashed onto him. Your tongue pried open his mouth and slipped past his lips to tangle with his. You grabbed fistfulls of his shaggy hair, moaning into his mouth, panting, getting dizzy from the lack of oxygen. It didn’t matter if you passed out. It didn’t matter if anyone saw you. It didn’t matter if you failed your class. All that mattered was Peter Parker and the way he lit a fire between your thighs. 

You could feel your climax growing, Peter’s too. His rhythm sped up. The quiet, needy whines in the back of his throat got lost under your own whimpers. The swell of his cock twitched inside of you. He gripped onto you so tightly like he was terrified of you disappearing from his grasp at such a pivotal moment. 

“Be a good girl and come for me,” he gasped out between heavy breaths. “Let me feel you.” 

You rested your forehead against his sweaty one, gazing through half closed lids at him, taking in every look of needy desperation that flashed across his features. He wanted you just as much as you wanted him. His words were all you needed to let yourself go. 

Your climax washed through you like a tsunami, overwhelming your senses, and sweeping you away in a whirling maelstrom of pleasure. A scream got caught in the back of your throat, burying your face against his shoulder in an attempt to keep it from escaping. Somewhere, in the back of your blissed out brain, you remembered that you were still inside the student lounge. 

The sensations of your sex spasming and squeezing around his cock was exactly what Peter needed to finish. He wrapped his arms tight around your waist and forced your body down as he thrust up his hips, making sure he was entirely buried inside of you, as he erupted. Spurt after spurt of hot cum emptied into your waiting cunt. 

“Ah,” you whimper, hiding your face into his neck, the tears spilling freely down your cheeks now. “Oh, Peter. Yes, yes, yes. You feel so good.” 

Your arms felt numb and tingly, your head spun and your vision blurred. You had to actively remember to breathe or else you’d fail to do so. You tried to squeeze out everything he had to give you, feeling him throbbing inside of you, twitching as a shiver shot through your body. You adored how he felt without a condom. It felt raw and real like this was how it was supposed to happen. The night you gave him your virginity, he had used one, but once you started taking birth control, you had asked him to stop. You wanted to feel every part of him, wanted him to live inside of you. He was the kind of person who shouldn’t ever be covered up. 

You stayed wrapped around him, safe in his arms, as you came down from you high. Peter traced lazy lines up and down your spine while you focused on your breathing. You felt like your body was glowing, brighter than the sun, and ready to float away. It would give a shudder every so often as his cock softened inside of you until you finally lifted yourself from his lap. If you weren’t the first one to move, you two would never untangle yourselves. Peter never moved away until you did. He always followed your lead. You often wondered if he would hold you forever if you never pulled away. One day, maybe you would test that theory. 

You could feel parts of him dripping down your inner thigh as you rose onto shaky legs. You hurried to fix your bra and button your shirt back up. Peter made no attempts to get off the couch, his softening cock resting against his thigh, a large wet spot made by you damping his pants. He gazed up at you, admiring your body while you tried to make yourself presentable again. 

“You know we’re not finished, right?” He asked, raising his brows in amusement. “We went over one, single question. You have an entire chapter to get through.” 

Your mouth fell open in shock, gasping in his direction, the realization setting in, “But-”

“But what? I told you I was going to help you pass this test. We still have work to do.” His mischievous smile grew. “Sit back down.” 

[hihimissamericanbi]

*Fresh Fic*

WAKE UP tumblr @emeryhall and I did a thing!!!

May we present to you, for your horny pleasure, 14K worth of our very first Drarry smut for @hpkinktober Day 8: Pensieve!!!! (Yes we are late don't judge)

Inspired by @delusionisaplace and their "inexperienced" smut prompts: "show me how you like it" ~ "are you sure you want to do this?" ~ "I've never done this before"

HAVE FUN DARLINGS!!

[ghouletteanon]

If you still would like requests from the ask game could i i please ask for 10 "please be gentle" with Mountain and Aether?

The last of the Inexperienced Smut Prompts (at least for this round). It's always missing Aether hours where I am so this was a special treat.

Prompt #10: “Please be gentle”

~400 words, Mountain and Aether sharing a vulnerable moment together not long after they joined the the Ghost project.

Rated (light) M to be safe.

Mountain has been actively practicing for his debut tour for under a week and it’s taking its toll on him. His vessel is not used to this, and being forced to the confines of a human body instead of the infernal one he greatly preferred but playing the drums with hooves in front of a live audience of outsiders is not permitted.

“Please be gentle,” Mountain sighs into the crook of his elbow when he feels Aether’s hands slide up along his calves. Aether had suggested a massage after he saw Mountain stumble after a long practice session, and Mountain moans as he feels Aether’s thumb press into a painful spot. The pain makes space for pleasure, as Aether adds a touch of his magick and it makes Mountain see literal stars. Mountain groans, eyes closed. “That’s not gentle.”

“Your legs don’t need gentle right now,” Aether says, his voice husky and it goes straight to Mountain’s core. He is suddenly very much aware that he is laying on Aether’s bed, wearing only a pair of boxers, at Aether’s mercy. He kisses the back of Mountain’s knee, his lips barely there for a mere fraction of a second, but Mountain’s senses are turned up and focused on everything Aether is doing that he can sense it all. Aether asks, his voice laden with meaning, “But perhaps you do?”

Mountain lets out a groan in agreement, as Aether continues to massage his calves. He has not felt this sort of intimacy ever since he was summoned.

“Aeth’, please be gentle with me,” Mountain whispers into the crook of his arm, hiding how vulnerable he feels and that he is asking more. He wants Aether to be gentle with his heart.

“You only had to ask,” Aether moves up on the bed, kissing right between Mountain’s shoulder blades. “Look at me?”

Mountain hesitates for a moment but overcomes his worries and peeks over his arm.

Aether is so close. His eyes have a purple tint from all the magick he has been using. He is so beautiful to Mountain, like a fallen angel set aside for him by Lucifer himself. He’s lost his shirt somewhere along the way, and his body looks like pure sin. Somehow, this ghoul wanted him, and Mountain knows he can trust his Aether. What makes Mountain’s last defenses melt is Aether leaning close, whispering back “Please be gentle with me too?”.

[endlessnightlock]

still working on those prompts...

[hihimissamericanbi]

Oh. Oh this is my JAM. Omg wait what if... this could be an EXCELLENT opportunity for my first drarry smut JUST SAYINGGGG

“𝙜𝙤 𝙨𝙡𝙤𝙬…” 𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩𝙨

explicit warning: don't read on if you're under 18 or uncomfortable with anything nsfw/smut related

have fun with these ;) | tag me if you use any | if yall want more prompts like this, jus drop an ask

“I’ve never done this before.”

“I’ll go slow.”

“Will it hurt?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Tell me what to do.”

“I’ll talk you through it, okay?”

“This is my first time…”

“I promise I won’t hurt you.”

“Be gentle, please…”

“Am I going too fast?”

“Can you show me how?”

“Does this feel good?”

“Should I slow down?”

“I wanted you to be my first…”

“I want to make this perfect for you.”

“Tell me what feels good.”

“Show me how you like it.”

“We can stop whenever you like.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“You’re doing so well…”

“We can keep going, if you want.”

“Relax, I’ve got you.”

“No need to rush—we have all night.”

“Let me help you.”

“There’s no reason to be nervous.”

“Is this okay?”

“Do that again…”

“I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Let’s find out what you like together, alright?”

[millerscoffee]

Hi brilliant Bee 🐝 can we please get the “do you want my fingers?” prompt from either Frankie or Joel 🤭

hi, sweetheart! i went with joel for this, i hope that's okay! it's a little longer than i intended, so i just want to say – please don't take this personally, everyone else! i'm a sucker for joel and got carried away. sue me! i could've gone longer, and i'm showing great restraint! tehehe. i hope y'all enjoy ♡

take me on

1710 words | joel miller x inexperienced f!reader

rating: 18+ MDNI

warning: age gap (joel: late 50s, reader 28), reader is a virgin/late bloomer (right on time bloomer if you ask me), fingering (f receiving), pet names, praise kink

A/N: this is part of my 500 followers celebration running until 9/9 ♡

To put it simply: you were embarrassed.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be with anyone in your years of life, you just hadn’t found the right time or person.  Living in Jackson was more comfortable than most places, but it wasn’t like it was easy meeting people – not necessarily a lot of new people to meet.

And that’s when Joel Miller showed up.

He was moody, his time was spent scowling at others while keeping close to his family… for the most part.  Sometimes he was scowling alone when the waters were rocky.  But when he saw you, the subtlety of his features softened: his shoulders, his eyebrows.  It was something you didn’t pick up straight away, but iteration made it obvious.

Like the one night Joel was in the middle of an argument just outside The Tipsy Bison, when he saw you show up.  He was presenting to be a different person around you – his words fell off to the side, and he opened the door for you without a word.

Of course, he continued the fight the very second the door closed behind you.

A grin splayed over your face.

A few days passed, built up until Joel found the courage to speak to you.  And that burn was just as slow.

A small crowd of people left until the two of you were on either side of a bench.  His eyes met yours, wide and curious.  His larynx buoyed upon swallowing, a grunt slipped through his nose.

“Hey.”

Man of a few words.

But it didn’t take long for the two of you to strike up a conversation, and even shorter for you to learn the pathways that it took for him to unravel for you.

That was a month ago.

Now, you find yourself in Joel’s house, nestled up in his room.

There had been a couple of times leading up to this point.  You’ve kissed, you’ve spent hours heavy petting.  Joel calling you darlin’, wanting more of you.  He understands that you’re nervous, but he is but a carnal being at the end of the day.

So are you, you’re finding.

And you know it now underneath the dark duvet, the desire you cannot contain.  The slick rising between your legs.

“Joel,” you whisper: lips chaste, thighs quivering as he settles between them. “I- I want you.”

These are the words he’s been dying to hear, but still you watch his gaze shift – fire and flame, eagerness and concern.

“What can y’take?”

You swallow a whimper at his attentiveness.  His desire to take care of you.

“I don’t really know,” you bite your cheek, and god, it’s silly.  You should know what you want by now.  You’ve built up so much momentum for this moment, even before Joel was in the picture, and now that it’s here, you freeze.

“Hey,” Joel’s palm soothes over the side of your neck and your pupils blow wide at the sensation, the observation, the unmentioned praise. “You don’t gotta know.  We’ll go slow, alright?”

You nod feverishly, your hands exploring – timid and clumsy – over his sides through his flannel, and fuck, he loves that.  Loves the sensation of your delicate grazes exclaiming their inclinations for him.

“Okay,” you muster it, and Joel helps you undress.  Clothing is off of you until you’re in your underwear and top on his bed.

It’s slow, this process.  He takes his time.  Admires you with kind eyes, with soft words, with grunts and muttered damn’s.  A good half hour of this build up, of his lips on your skin.  Of him taking his time with you, to work you up, to make you feel safe.

And you are rattling for him.

“Joel, I–” you don’t mean for it to sound like a moan, but his ears perk up when it happens.

“Talk t’me, baby,” you shudder at his big palms crossing the landscape of your thighs.

“Y-yknow I’ve never, I’ve never.”

You can’t get it out.  Twenty-eight.  A virgin.  Never been naked for someone like this, much less touched.

“I know, darlin’.  And you’ll let me take care a’you?  ‘Cuz we can stop, y’just gotta say the word.”

“N-no!” you feel blood pooling at your cheeks, and that tugs a grin from him.

“No?” He's amused now, but still tender.  His head tilts to gaze between your legs, and lets out a weak whistle. “I know you’re nervous, but do you know how damn irresistible you are?”

And fuck, you’re ruined by that.

“I’m not nervous,” you grin weakly, hips shifting under his gaze.

“Yeah, I know.  So brave for me, aren’tcha?”

“I’m brave,” you breathe the repeated phrase, “I want this.” Hearing just how brave you’re being makes you feel braver than you may actually be.  Sneaky man, it’s working.

“Do you want my fingers?”

Says the man whose fingers were curled under the collar of some man earlier in the day for cutting him off in line for lunch.  How could they be delicate now?

Regardless, it pulls you.  You feel your core pulse at this, your clit tingles at the prospect of being touched and all you can do is nod, “Y-yes.”

That’s all Joel needs.

He shifts on the bed, noises of age escaping from him as one knee is bent on his bed, other foot planted deep into the floor.  Hovering over you, but not in a way that makes you nervous.  It makes you feel cared for.  Your eyes look up, wet and round up to his deep brown eyes that stake their claim over you.

“I’m gonna pull these off now.  That alright?”  he nods in the direction between your legs and you tell him yes before you even realise it.

The cool air against the dampness of your cunt draws a gasp from you and your hand instinctively wraps around his wrist.  “Joel,” you whimper, biting the plush of your bottom lip.

“Good girl,” he coos, nodding in acknowledgement of how intense it is.  “Doin’ so good f’me.  You know that too, don’t you?”

You swallow down, nodding back.  Legs split innately, spreading your mess down your thighs.  “Lord,” he breathes, “You are somethin’ special, you know that?”  you’re speechless, but the peak of your nipples through the fabric speak a lot for you – the breathy sighs, the needy hips.  And he allows it.  Because you’re fresh, you’re new, you don’t need to be demanded.  He wants this right for you.

“Gonna touch you, okay?”  “Okay,” you mewl.  At first it’s your legs, right at the crease; at your hips.  And then, he’s cursing under his breath when the pads of his fingers finally – patiently – run up and down over your folds.  It’s lazy, it’s unhurried, his skin is so hot it throbs you.  The ache is all-consuming, and you could come apart just from this.

“This for me?”  the sounds of your wetness rebound in your ears, causing your brows to knit and whimpers to fill in beside the slick as you bob your head.

“Please, please.  I want to feel you.  Need to feel this.”

You find the words as he finds the green light.

One finger dips down in this tentative headspace.  His eyes flit from your face to your core, and you feel so gorgeous under the gaze.  You swallow then, knowing his fingers are far larger than yours, but you are brave – remember?  And he knows it.  He’s slow, intentional when he grooves over your entrance: the source of your wetness.

He watches you carefully, tempting the digit inside at the very tip and you hiss reactionarily.  It stings.  No matter how turned on you are, this is new and your blood is pumping around his finger.  But you let him know it’s okay, how you can take it.  His other hand pushes your hair back in awe of you, in praise, and gently nudges the finger up.

“So full,” you gasp, almost giggling from the stir.  That sharpness melts into pleasure and you nudge your cheek into his palm as he sits more now.  In front of you, palm traveling down your side to land at your hip, the middle finger tempting to press deeper until he’s at the knuckle.  It’s delicious – cosmic and veracious.

“Tight, fuckin’ gorgeous,” he can’t help but utter and it’s within him rolling his thumb over your clit do you feel the pressure inside you build.

It’s strange, too.

You don’t expect the feeling to pull pleasure out of you, but the repetitious movements make your eyes roll back – his skill, and his intent.

“I ca… I c-can’t last, p–”

“C’mon, pretty girl.  You can let go for me.”  He’s so soft like this, albeit in complete control of you.  And that unfamiliar permission sends fireworks from your core, down your legs – your hips rocking up and you inhale sharply at the feeling of him moving in deeper from that.  “Joel!”

“Fuck,” he mutters to himself, but makes light work in keeping the focus on you, on fucking you through it.

And it’s not that you haven’t orgasmed, but you didn’t expect to – not within your first experience with someone else.

But you’re quickly understanding Joel isn’t just anyone else.

His eyes are hungry, grunts spilling from him as he absorbs this.  Just nodding – at least you think he is in between your eyes screwing shut, and the ringing in your ears.  You’re flashed with white hot pleasure, and you don’t want it to end.

“That’s it, sweet girl.  That’s right.  Look so pretty cummin’ around my finger like this.  Sound so pretty for me, too.”  And just before you become too sensitive, he slows down.  Takes his thumb off of your clit, the vice grip you have on his thick finger makes it difficult for him to pull out – but he manages just fine.  A pleased grin plucking him.

“Wait.  Are you okay?  Do you need anything?”  You shift, realising that he hasn’t been addressed, but he’s quick to shake his head and clean you up.  Those rough hands that have done mean things are so gentle as they place the clothes back on your body.  His lips flutter over your forehead.

“All in good time, babygirl.  All in good time.”

[everybodyshusband]

feeeliiiiiiix, i’m rattling the bars of my cage once again because i see that prompt list, baby!! >:3c

hehehe, what about 37. and 42. with some zephyr/cowbell because YES. i’m still thinking about them thank you very much

you should always be thinking about them >:D consider this as a way to tide you over until i finish The zephbell piece for you :> the prompts were "kiss me" and "so excited already..." i hope i did your request justice, love !! (and since it's been... a while, in case you're a little confused, this is the prompt list that the ever-wonderful leaff is referring to <3) explicit. | cw: semi public sex, edging | they/them zephyr, it/its cock-wielding earth ghoul cowbell. 1.3k words

"Cowbell!" Zephyr huffs indignantly, although having known the air ghoul for what feels like aeons now, Cowbell is well aware that they're not upset by its actions, not properly, at least. "Can you not see I am in the middle of a task?"

"Don't care." It presses the words softly into their mind, praying that its thoughts wrap as deliciously around the air ghoul's brain stem as they always claim. "Kiss me," it urges, wrapping long, skeletal fingers in Zephyr's tunic and pulling them as close as possible; somehow, the air ghoul manages to keep their fingers on the correct notes of the keyboard. "I need it."

"Mine erthe, you must learn to hold patience. Allow me to complete the music first. Lead me not into your frightful temptation whilst I am busy, foul demon." The smirk that dances across the air ghoul's lips and the spark in their eyes proves to Cowbell that there is no real venom behind Zephyr's playful words. Well, no more than there usually is, anyway. They grace the earth ghoul with a quick peck on the lips before turning their attention back to the task at their hand.

Their fingers press on the keys of their beloved keyboard with an elegance they refuse to comprehend, no matter how many times Cowbell tells them. The earth ghoul rounds the keyboard, standing behind Zephyr to read their sheet music over their shoulder; some classical piece they're rehearsing for next week's Black Mass that Cowbell knows for a fact Zephyr already knows by heart. The notes are a mess of ink on paper to the earth ghoul, so it can't help but admire the way Zephyr is able to translate a language so indecipherable to Cowbell into the haunting melody currently ringing through the chapel.

(Perhaps that's part of the reason the air ghoul is so hesitant to begin anything... lascivious with Cowbell; they are in public after all, and a sacred place at that. But that's never stopped either of them before.)

Before Zephyr can even begin to predict what's happening, Cowbell is pressing its body against theirs, wrapping its arms tight around their shoulders, and kissing and nipping up and down the length of their throat.

The air ghoul sighs and continues playing, attuned enough to Cowbell's antics by now that they're able to carry on with their business despite its bothersome interruptions. Cowbell's glad of that. It makes teasing them all the more enjoyable. Means it has to work harder to gauge a proper reaction.

Means that when the desperation for Zephyr to engage in its little game gets to be too much, it can start working even harder. Can start grinding its hips against the air ghoul with uncoordinated jerky motions, moaning softly in their ear as pleasure quickly spreads through its vessel. Means that the most impressive reaction it is able to garner from the air ghoul in response to its tomfoolery is a hitched breath and the faltering of fingers against the keyboard.

Alas, it doesn’t take long for Zephyr to regain most of their composure and continue working the melodies of the piece with unrivalled skill, seeming to no longer be affected by their mate using their back to get itself off. Cowbell wishes its acts would have more of an effect on the air ghoul, but continues chasing its pleasure nevertheless; it isn’t going to let a little indifference get in the way of its end goal.

It doesn’t take long for the earth ghoul’s quick-thinking mind to begin to wander. Switching from wondering what will be served at tonight’s dinner, to how it might be able to work the air ghoul up until they're just as desperate as it is, to thoughts about Zephyr’s hands so impure that it is sure even Terzo would be astounded by the depravity of its mind. With the kind of thoughts racing through its head, it doesn’t take long for Cowbell to find itself chasing a rapidly approaching orgasm.

Zephyr must notice the change in pace of its rutting or the newfound desperation in its whines against their throat because Cowbell feels the muscles in Zephyr’s neck pull as they smirk at it and open their mouth to tease. "So excited already, my dear? If I did not know better, I would say you have already found yourself close to an edge... Is that true, darling?"

Cowbell breathes raggedly into the junction between Zephyr's neck and shoulder, nodding shakily and moaning at the embarrassment of how rapidly the drag of its clothed cock against the air ghoul's back is ricocheting it to the edge of orgasm. This isn’t the first time Cowbell has been this particular type of menace to Zephyr while they’ve attempted to fit some practice in around their busy schedule, but by the extent to which its own actions are affecting the earth ghoul, it might as well be.

There’s a tension building and spreading through its entire body as it creeps closer and closer to the edge, and Cowbell can’t help but start begging. “Zeph– My sky, please.”

“Please?” Zephyr inquires, tilting their head to the side in mock confusion. Cowbell tries to pretend that the extra sliver of skin the action exposes doesn’t drive it crazy with need. "What is it you are begging for, mine erthe?”

Cowbell grits its teeth as it does its best to hold off its impending orgasm for a few moments longer; it dreads to think of the punishment Zephyr will dream up if it fails to hold itself back from its own pleasure for even a moment. “Need to cum,” it whines into Zephyr’s head. “Wanna cum, sky. Please? Please let me? I– I gotta– Fuck, I can’t–”

“Can’t?” Zephyr asks sharply. “What can’t you do, erthe?” Cowbell is sure the only time the air ghoul ever uses contractions is when they’re mocking it. Honestly, it can’t complain; it enjoys the harshness behind their tone as they wrap their lips around words so foreign to their unique way of speaking.

It whines in response to Zephyr's words, continuing to rut against Zephyr’s back even as it teeters dangerously on the edge. “Can’t hold back, gonna cum. Wanna be good for you. Lemme cum, please let me cum, Zeph…” It is almost sobbing by now, pressing its words into Zephyr’s mind with just a hint of its own tear-streaked desperation, praying to whichever deity feels compelled to listen that the air ghoul will show it mercy before it’s too late.

As Cowbell speaks, Zephyr shifts forward, effectively stopping the earth ghoul from thrusting against their back any longer. It really does sob this time, hips still desperately rutting forward in the hope that the minute amounts of friction of pants against its cock will be enough to finally let it spill its pent-up release. Shamelessly, it starts begging again, tears obvious in its voice even as it speaks only in Zephyr’s mind.

Its desperate pleas are cut off as the air ghoul turns around on their stool and pulls Cowbell’s face down to meet theirs, catching it off guard with a bruising kiss. It’s intense, meant to claim, to own, and that’s all the permission Cowbell needs in order to tip over the edge with a scream that surely must echo around Zephyr’s skull enough to give them a headache.

The earth ghoul sobs with pleasure and relief as Zephyr continues to stake their claim against its lips, wrapping its arms around them to pull them as close and physically possible in the position they currently find themselves as it shudders helplessly through its orgasm.

Despite Cowbell’s whine of protest, Zephyr pulls back just enough for their lips to barely graze Cowbell’s own. “Good pet,” they whisper softly, immediately pulling the earth ghoul back in for another kiss.

Cowbell pretends their words don’t make its spent cock kick valiantly and instead allows itself to be guided by Zephyr, falling into the kiss with the hopes of being given the air ghoul an opportunity to feel just as good as it does now.

[sleepyangelkami]

AN ANGEL d.winchester

𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT - 4.5K

DEAN WINCHESTER X FEM!READER

𝜗𝜚 SUMMARY - You're nervous to lose your virginity, Dean shows you everything that you've been missing out on.

𝜗𝜚 WARNINGS - smut, dom!dean, sub!reader, nervous/shy!reader, unprotected sex, creampie, p!v, teasing, loss of virginity, fingering, hickeys (r.recieving), size kink, praise kink, dean is experienced, reader is inexperienced, (1) thigh slap, big dick!dean, boob fondling, boob sucking, reader is smaller than dean, illusions to past masturbation, reader blushes, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

dean liked having you sat in his lap.

this wasn't the first time, your legs stretched around his waist while your hands scrunched idly at the black shirt he'd been wearing, your lips against his own. making out with you had to be possibly the best thing he'd ever done. it was like getting sent to heaven and back, between each breath he damned the gods that disallowed him to press his lips against yours for forever.

but you were new to all this.

he had to be gentle.

dean was the first real relationship you'd ever had. and if he was being honest, you were sort of the first real relationship he'd ever had too.

he used to hop from girl to girl, bed to bed and not think twice about it. you were the absolute opposite. you were the type of girl that didn't speak unless spoken to, you kept your head down and got through everything without so much as letting your imagination wander with what it would feel like to be with a man.

then you met him.

his hands were pinching at the fat of your thighs, he found it hard to keep his hands to himself when you were like this. between kisses, he could hear the shakiness in your breaths, it drove him unbelievably mad.

you felt almost sorry for dean, knowing it'd taken this long to get comfortable enough to even make out with the man. you knew his history and how he wouldn't go longer than a week without someone in his bed. now he'd went more than three months with you like this, aching for more.

and it wasn't like you didn't want more, believe me, you'd been aching just as horribly.

you were just... scared?

deans hands moved harshly against your skin, right hand coming down to gently slap your thigh before gripping it once again. the feeling prompted a low whimper to leave your lips.

dean almost groaned. he could get used to hearing noises like those.

when the man pulled away from your lips, heavy breaths still leaving his own, you swore you could have whimpered again just from the loss of contact.

he looked down at you, eyes all blown wide, lips slick and swollen, it was a sight he hoped was never erased from his memory. he wanted to remember this forever. "y'so needy." he had that cocky grin on his lips, cocking his head to the side as he viewed you as a whole, all his, right in his lap for the taking.

you felt your cheeks get hot at the sentence, eyes immediately darting anywhere other than his face. "don' be mean." was the mumble you let out, eyes adverting and voice lowering. you weren't able to talk to him, not when he got like this, all 'bigger' than you, it made you feel small, it made you feel wet.

"'m not, 'm not." he spoke with a low chuckle, one of his hands raising to meet your face, you felt the padding of his thumb wipe across your hot cheeks, he could tell you were nervous. then again, you were always so nervous. "i think it's cute."

again, your face got increasingly hotter but dean didn't leave you any room for words, dipping his head so his lips could meet your neck.

there was something so surreal about being like this, your hands gripping at his shirt, top lip clamped down on your bottom as he kissed against the skin of your neck.

again, this wasn't the first time he'd done something like this. makeouts and hickey-leaving was getting more and more natural in your relationship, common, even.

he'd come home from his hunts with sam and all he'd want was you either below or on top of him, his lips against anything they could reach.

you felt his lips part, sucking against your neck as one hand ran up your back, the other cupping the back of your hair. once he sucked, his tongue would smooth over the skin, pleasure to ease the pain. and he'd go again, gradually moving to different places on your neck. marking you.

your own lips were strewn shut, you were hoping and praying on every star that you didn't let a noise slip from you. you were too nervous, too embarrassed but the whole point of this was to feel good, wasn't it? so why did you feel so embarrassed to show him how good it felt?

your eyes fluttered shut, the feeling suddenly overwhelming.

you didn't register the move of your hips until his lips left your neck and his hands clamped down on your waist, low grunt leaving his mouth.

you stared at him with those big eyes and he swore he was gone. "y'can't do that, sweetheart." despite his words, his tone was gentle. "can't start something if you don't want to finish it."

he knew how inexperienced you were, he thought you wanted to hold off on losing your virginity which is why he'd never made such a move but by the way you were looking at him now, he swore you wanted nothing more than for him to take you.

and he'd gladly do so upon your command.

"i do..." you uttered. ".. want to." the words made your insides twinge, made your nose scrunch and your lips purse.

you were too nervous, shaking like a leaf on top of him. even so, with so much anxiety bottled into a human, dean made no movements of caution.

you sort of liked that dean wasn't as awkward or nervous as you were. dean was confident, that much was for sure. but being so confident also gave him this openness, seeping comfort into your veins as his large, warm hands trailed up and down your thighs.

"yeah?" his voice was breathy and his smile had left his features. he didn't need to be so teasing now, he knew you would simply burst of shyness. and he didn't want you in a position of uncertainty. "what d'you want?"

he wasn't trying to tease you, though he knew his fingers that began to dance against your skin were doing nothing to calm your nerves.

he just needed to hear you say it.

you planted your face into his chest with an incoherent mumble, cheeks alight as flames.

dean could have laughed at you but he didn't want you thinking you'd done something wrong. on the contrary, he found it downright adorable how shy you'd been getting. but you couldn't help it, this was such an unfamiliar feeling bubbling in your stomach.

"can't hear you, sweetheart." his head came down to sit atop yours, his voice a gentle whisper. "i need you to tell me what you want, okay?" his free hand tipped your chin upwards to look at him, those pretty green eyes held so much sincerity. "use your words f'me, baby."

words felt stuck in your throat, you couldn't seem to get them out. but dean didn't want to let this get away from him, he steadied your chin between his fingers.

"i want..." your voice was all breathy, all needy. it had dean reeling. "i want you to touch me."

and as the words passed your lips, you swear all the air was knocked from your lungs. listening to yourself talk had made your head feel fuzzy. before dean, you couldn't have even imagined such words leaving your lips.

dean was struggling to compose himself but nonetheless, he did. his lips quirked into this proud yet sly smirk as his fingers ran up and down your thighs. "where, angel? here?" he practically mocked, fingers against your knee.

at this point, dean had never seen an angel, he didn't believe in them. but he was sure that if angels did exist, you had to be one of them.

you could have corrected him verbally, told him to stop teasing or even scolded him for mocking you while you were all worked up like this. but instead, you chose to grasp his bigger hand in your own and trail it towards your core.

as your hand cupped his own, he could feel them shake, he almost cooed at you but he didn't want to make you more nervous than you already were.

but when his hand finally reached your clothed core, he couldn't help but let out a groan.

it didn't take longer than a second for dean to have you flipped over with your back against the mattress of the bed. a noise left your lips as he towered over you, that infamous smirk etched to his lips.

but a type of seriousness washed over him. "are you sure you want this?"

you knew he wasn't asking you to tease you or make you wait, he was being sincere and you couldn't have been more sincere back by bucking your hips with a low whine of the word, "yes." quickly followed by a "please."

"so needy." he mumbled back, lips moving to your neck while his fingers fumbled at the cotton material of your baby blue sleep shorts. he hooked his fingers around the waistband and tore it off skilfully.

he supposed his experience was paying off.

you didn't have any time to counter what he'd said, too focused on the feeling building in your stomach. much of it was worry, anxiety even but the majority of it was this foreign, amazing feeling.

"fuck." his ring clad fingers circled against your panties. you were suddenly hyper aware of how worked up you'd gotten while making out with him, a blush creeping in on your face as you turned away from him.

dean all but tutted, dragging your face back.

"don't get shy on me now, sweetheart. This wet for me, the least you can do is look at me." he had that empowering stare that told you he was in charge here, it had you shrinking further into the mattress.

but dean wasn't demanding, sure he was dominating but he didn't make you uncomfortable. truthfully, you'd been rather scared of getting this far with anybody but you were sure that if there was anybody you wanted it to be with, it was him.

his hands toyed at waistbands of your panties. "this okay?" his eyes were glued to your face, trying to watch every way your face contorted, making sure you were okay.

believe it or not, there was a lot one could tell from just looking at someone.

you nodded your head briskly, darkened and bitten lips parted slightly, covered in the slick left behind from your tongue. your cheeks had turned a darkened colour too, blush spreading across your face.

there was something so surreal about looking at you like this, knowing nobody else ever had. he pulled the panties down your legs, watching you steadily with his own lips parting open. his eyes moved from yours to trail down your body, landing on your sopping core. he couldn't help but breathe in a breath.

"you're so pretty, angel." he moved his hand upwards again, closed fingers gently toying with your clit, which earned a soft gasp from you. his lips quirked as he brought his hand away, using the other to slip off his ring. he took your wrist, holding it up gently. "take care of this for me, yeah?" you nodded as he slipped the ring onto your thumb, seeing as your other fingers wouldn't fit it. "good girl." he mumbled, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

he was suddenly hyper aware of the fact that you were a virgin.

now, dean wasn't necessarily put off by the fact that you were a virgin. dean couldn't have cared less what you were. but he needed to make sure he was gentle, more so than any other time.

because he was the first, the one you'd remember forever.

though, he intended to be your very last, too.

his fingers trailed across your pretty tank top, down to your hips and finally edging between your legs. he peppered kisses against your face and down across your jaw, finally landing on your neck, fingers pushing your legs apart with ease.

as shy as you were, you didn't hide from him, you allowed him to part your legs, his hand was against your inner thigh, softly soothing up and down against your skin.

but he had to make sure, before he touched you. "sure this is okay? not having second thoughts?"

of course dean wanted to but he only wanted to if you wanted to. but you nodded anyway, swallowing though your mouth was dry anyway. "'m just nervous." you admitted softly.

it was no secret to dean that you were a nervous creature already. he knew this was all new to you but he didn't want you to feel shy around him. "you don't need to be." he pressed a kiss against the supple of your cheek, hand moving further as you let out a shaky breath. "not with me." as the whisper left his mouth, his hand came up to touch your hot core.

the noise that left your mouth should have embarrassed you but right now, you couldn't think of anything other than the feeling of his hand right where you needed him.

he collected your wetness onto his fingers, spreading it up and down your folds, two fingers parting from the rest as he gently eased them into your hole.

heavy breaths suddenly left you, chest rising and falling while dean's face was practically hidden in your neck, peppering kisses, sucking and licking against the soft skin while his fingers settled inside of you.

he gave you hardly any time to adjust to the feeling, pulling them out and then thrusting them right back into you. "you're so warm, sweetheart." he mumbled in slight awe. suddenly, the image took over his mind, the image of him inside of you. he couldn't seem to wipe it away.

he knew that giving yourself to him even just like this was a lot for you, he didn't want to push you any further than he already had tonight.

however, the image still tainted his memory.

as the speed of his fingers increased, so did the volume of your noises.

a sticky, wet sound bounced from wall to wall, causing your cheeks to warm incredibly further. you flushed, your own hand coming up to cover your mouth, suddenly aware of how loud you'd been.

a coo left his lips, free hand coming to drag your wrist away from your mouth. "wanna hear every noise you can make, angel."

and his words alone made you whimper.

the palm of his hand bounced against your clit with every thrust of his hand, emitting these noises from you that you'd never been able to draw from yourself.

"y'sound so pretty, you know that, baby?" you made a noise to show you were listening, though all it told dean was that you felt good. "look so pretty too. so beautiful. all mine."

dean couldn't keep his hands to himself.

his free hand dragged against your skin, pushing at it as if trying to get closer to you in any way possible.

against his fingers formed a creamy ring. he looked down at his digits sliding in and out of you, wetness surrounding you both, keeping you together by a wet string.

he let his thoughts wander.

as evil as it was, he simply couldn't think of anything else, he imagined it was his dick sliding in and out of your hot, wet hole, the noises you'd make would be so much louder, you'd be so much fuller.

then he was suddenly aware of your experience once again.

you were tight, incredibly tight which only made him scissor his fingers. if you were going to take his dick, he needed to stretch you out first.

"dean!" you spluttered out as he scissored his fingers inside of you. "c-cant."

your hips bucked backwards, as if you were trying to tell yourself to stop, but it felt too good to stop.

and dean knew your body well, more than you knew it apparently for he only tutted, holding your wrist in his free hand. "you can take it baby, there you go." and he must have known what was happening because your insides were turning to mush.

you'd orgasmed by yourself before but this? this was true bliss.

he held your waist down to the mattress as your body squirmed, head falling back into the pillows as his name fell on your lips, moans and whines blissfully leaving your slick lips.

"good girl." he mumbled, pressing kisses anywhere his lips could reach. "you're so good, there you go. atta girl."

his words of praise fell on your lips, only making you squirm impossibly more. but nonetheless, he kept up his pace, fingers moving to help you ride out your high.

dean swore he'd never seen something so beautiful.

he watched in awe, staring at the way your face scrunched up, pretty lips parted and your eyes screwed closed, though he could only imagine you were seeing stars behind your lids, not that he was being cocky or anything.

the sight was pure bliss, angelic, even.

he swore he'd been to heaven and back, just watching your face contort.

and he'd watch it forever, if he could.

he was suddenly aware of how tight his jeans felt.

"i need to fuck you." he was mumbling with a slight neediness in his tone, kissing up and down your throat, his hand only coming to a halt when your own practically pushed it away, the overstimulation becoming too much. "can i?" a beat passed. "please?"

his face rose to meet yours and you stared at him, all blissed out. you swore that his fingers were the most skilled, pleasurable feeling you'd ever felt, much better than to how it felt when you'd done it by yourself. your lips were glossed over, heavy pants leaving your chest. huge eyes and flushed cheeks.

almost a whine of the phrase, "uh-huh." passed your lips.

and it was enough for him.

his lips crashed into your own, kissing you ever so softly, though there was passion hidden somewhere between your heavy breaths.

needy hands pawed at the end of his black shirt, his own hands reached down to cup yours, helping you tear it off of his body. his amulet dangled downwards, just below your face and he was suddenly very aware of the fact that your top was still on. he supposed he'd been too focused on making you feel good to realise.

his hands reached the end of your own top, helping you push it over your head.

no words left his lips but they parted, tongue passing over the bottom one as he stared.

your pink bra was so pretty on you he almost had to think to decide whether or not he wanted to keep it on. but he decided with the latter, hands unhooking your bra skillfully, as if he'd done it a thousand times before.

he hardly got to see your boobs, for his hands cupped them as soon as they were let out of the bra. he cursed out a grunt under his breath, one hand leaving your breast so his mouth could replace it.

against the mattress, your back arched, stomach against his own while you bit back the pretty whimpers which he yearned to hear. his mouth worked against you, rolling his tongue back and forth, practically flicking your nipple in his mouth making you unable to contain the sounds you so desperately tried to keep back.

"d―dean!" you spluttered, eyes fluttering shut. his own eyes looked up at you, watching your face contort once again.

he had to have you.

as his face left your chest, a string of spit connected your boobs to his lips.

he wiped it away, though nothing could wipe away that smut smirk he held. nonetheless, he helped himself to shimmying out of his jeans, taking his boxers off with it.

it wasn't until he took everything off that reality set in. you stared, eyes blown wide, he was, well... big. and it was sort of hard not to get nervous, even with the fact that his fingers had just been stuffed inside of you, you weren't so sure it was going to fit.

"you okay?" he leaned down, towering over you. he realised your eyes hadn't moved from his dick, pulling your chin up with his two fingers. "are you sure you want this?"

you nodded your head, thoughts a mere muddle of clouds. "i just... 'm nervous." you admitted, feeling your stomach fill with this fuzzy feeling that you only got when you talked to dean.

"you don't have to be nervous, sweetheart, not with me, okay?" the palm of his hand rested on your face. "do you want this?"

"yes." you answered without a beat.

"promise?" you could have melted right then and there. dean winchester was of many things but above all, he was gentle.

"promise." you mumbled, finding yourself relaxing just at the mere sound of his voice. his hand trailed up to find your own, fingers interlocking yours. his free hand moved down to his dick, pressing it in his hand.

you watched with curiosity yet also nervousness. you'd never seen this done in real life, so the shyness was creeping in as you watched him move his hand up and down his shaft, dragging it towards your wet hole. instantly, a sound left your lips, blush instantly creeping in as your eyes snapped up to him. he only smiled gently at you, finding your shyness rather adorable.

the head of his dick slowly pushed inside of you and that alone had you feeling awfully stretched. he wasn't just long, he was thick too meaning he stretched you out completely. "okay?" you nodded at the sound of his question, the feeling of his lips on your cheek moments after. "'s gonna hurt a little, alright?"

you nodded your head, eyes shutting closed as you braced yourself.

you weren't an idiot either, you knew first times were supposed to hurt but luckily for you, you had dean right there, holding one of your hands tight in his own, soft whispers and kisses against your skin.

what more could you really ask for.

he slowly eased himself inside of you, worried he was hurting you. then again, there wasn't really any other way to get inside without hurting you. he watched as your face contorted, a gentle whimper leaving your lips but he knew it wasn't one of pleasure, more of pain, actually.

he mumbled gentle apologies and left a trail of them in kisses from your neck to your cheeks.

finally, he was in completely and he couldn't help the string of curses that he mumbled under his breath.

dean stayed as still as he could. worry set in, he didn't want to hurt you, not when you'd been so nervous in the first place. he'd been with many girls but you were a tight fit around him, swallowing his dick whole. he couldn't help but almost coo at the way your hole clenched around him.

he felt your hips shift, and he knew you were ready. "can i―fuck, sweetheart, can i move?"

again, you nodded with a subtle whine that told him in other words, yes, he absolutely could move. and that was exactly what he did.

he slowly pulled his dick out from inside you then suddenly slammed his hips back in, his dick hitting the spot deep inside your walls. instantly, he was met with a mewl.

"shit." he uttered, wanting to draw as many sounds like that out of you as he could. his two hands now rested on yours tightening his grip as he placed them over your head so he could gain better access. "oh, fuck, sweetheart, you're so fucking pretty."

it seemed as though dean had the mouth similar to a sailor when put in a position like this.

but he couldn't help it, you were staring at him with those doe eyes, pretty noises falling from you. his hips moved with ease, slamming in and out of you, it didn't take him long to pick up the pace either.

your legs lifted to surround his waist, moans leaving the two of you as his hips slammed inside of you.

"shit, you're so good for me." he was a mumbling mess, he meant every word of what he said, though he wasn't too sure what was leaving his lips as of now. "oh, my sweet girl, thaaat's it."

he tipped his head forward, connecting his forehead to your own. your whimpers and whines were swallowed by a kiss, gentle yet so full of neediness, it was exactly what you wanted.

"feels..." you mumbled once your lips had parted, though you were sort of dazed, not all the way there. "feels so good."

"good girl, 's it, take it all." you felt his hand suddenly trail down, fingers soft against your clit while his dick still hot between your gummy walls. "'s okay, you're okay."

you shook your head, swallowing thickly as your hips bucked. "'s―'s too much!" you panted out, moans leaving you as if you couldn't keep them inside.

"you can take it, baby, know you can." but he could tell by the way your face twisted again, you were close.

and so was he.

"you gonna let go f'me? huh?"

at this point, your eyes had fluttered shut and you lips were parted as you nodded, brows strewn together. "gonna... 'm gonna cum, dean."

"that's my girl." he answered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "cum all over my dick f'me, sweetheart."

you supposed you were more obedient than you thought.

dean watched as you squirmed and moaned, eyes screwed shut as you finally let go around him. he could feel your gummy walls squeezing him tighter, a ring of slick had formed at the base of his dick. the mere sight, his dick still stuffed inside your cunt and you, cumming all over him.

well, it was enough to have any man weak.

which was why he'd finished so quickly, too.

after all, he'd been holding on since you were sat on his lap.

and that one feeling, cumming in your wet, hot walls and watching you with that pretty, stricken and worn out face as you came on him too... he swore he had really been to heaven and back.

when you both rode out your highs, he laid himself on the bed next to you, watching as you reached your hand up, playing with his silver ring that sat on your thumb.

he swore he was staring at an angel.

main masterlist/dean's masterlist

[buckysbvtch3]

Any requests for Eddie or Bucky?

Asks and open!

Inexperienced Smut Prompts ✨

“We’ll take it slow.”

“I’ve never done this before…” - “Well, neither have I.”

“I’ll take care of you.”

“Tell me what you like.”

“Tell me if it feels good.”

“We can stop anytime.”

“Do you trust me?”

“I’ve been wondering what it feels like…”

“I think I’m ready (for this/to have sex/…).”

“Please be gentle…”

“This is going a bit too fast…”

“I can’t believe you’re this innocent…”

“Makes me want to wreck you.”

“You’ve never even touched yourself?”

“Show me how you do it when you touch yourself.”

“What do you like?” - “I don’t know…” - “Then how about we find out together?”

“It’s my first time…”

“I can’t wait to take your innocence.”

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“It’s not a big deal. Let’s just get it over with.”

“I want you to be my first.”

“I want you to teach me.”

“Teach me how to make you feel good.”

“I wanna touch you too.”

“Show me how to touch you.”

“Am I going too fast?”

“You’re doing so well.”

“Do that again.”

“I never thought you could make such sweet noises.” - “Me neither…”

“It’s not scary at all. Let me show you.”

“I’m worried I won’t be good enough.”

“Is it going to hurt?”

“I won’t hurt you.”

“I’m really embarrassed about this…”

“No need to worry.”

“I got you.”

“Kiss me.”

“Will you be my first?”

“Will you let me be your first?”

“I have no idea how to go about this.”

“(If you like it), we can go all night.”

“So excited already…”

“Are you sure this is your first time?”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Is this okay?”

“Does it feel good?”

“Tell me what to do.”

“I’ll guide you.”

[moonstruckme]

A Friendly Proposition

Based on this request: Hi mae!!! Would you be open to writing tasm!peter parker or Remus lupin with best friend reader who hasn’t cum before, and he is outraged when he hears this? And he’s like, why don’t I show you (wink wink) -- Thank you for requesting!! I chose Remus for this but I would love to do some Peter smut in the future if anyone has any ideas :)

cw: smut mdni, fingering, not necessarily inexperienced reader but kind of has that vibe, basically smut no plot

bestfriend!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 2.2k words

“I dunno, I guess overall it was fine.” 

“Fine?” Remus looks up from where he’s lying on his bed, one eyebrow lifted in that way you don’t think he knows he does. You’re sitting on the floor in front of his mirror, attempting to cover up a particularly bad hickey your date from last night had left you as a parting gift. His reflection has a wry twist to its mouth. “I should hope it was more than just fine.” 

You shrug, tilting your head to dab at the makeup on your neck. “Not the best, not horrible. I’d call it thoroughly average.” 

Your friend hisses sympathetically through his teeth. “Not the sort of rave review most guys strive for. If I left someone with a mark like that, I’d hope I made it worth their while.” 

You can’t keep your lips from curving. “I didn’t say it wasn’t worthwhile.” 

“Did he at least make you cum?” 

You cough in surprise. “At least?” You turn around, giving him a disbelieving look. 

Remus’ answering expression is equally incredulous. 

“How common do you think that is?” you ask him. 

The eyebrow lifts higher. “Well, now I’m not sure, but I’ve never had any problems.” 

You scoff, turning back to the mirror. “That’s because you’re a guy.” 

“No,” Remus says, amusement tingling in his tone. “I mean, yes, but I meant I’ve never had any problems making other people cum.” 

“Seriously?” You freeze with your hand upheld awkwardly above your neck. You’re doing your best to make this conversation feel casual, but sometimes having an attractive guy for a best friend can get confusing, and the room is starting to feel a tad warm despite the open windows. “Like, what’s your success rate?” 

“What’s yours?” 

“I asked you first.” 

Remus’ lips twitch, fondness beneath his exasperation. “For women specifically?”

“Sure.” 

He nods, expression turning pensive. “I can’t be exactly sure. I mean, it’s not like I’m constantly fucking loads of women.” He says it so offhandedly, but just the language makes a tickle of warmth start up in your cheeks. “There were a couple who didn’t, when I was younger, still learning, but since then it’s been fairly high.” 

You swallow. You wonder what the learning had entailed, what Remus had picked up that you and anyone you’ve hooked up with hasn’t. It’s typically not for a lack of trying, though some certainly invest more time into the ambition than others. You can’t say you’ve even tried that hard yourself, not in a while and not since you’ve reckoned with the idea that it may simply not happen for you. It feels like a pointless exercise. 

You break from your reverie when you notice Remus watching you in the mirror. 

“Your turn,” he prompts. 

“You can’t make fun of me.” 

“You know I wouldn’t.” 

You absolutely do not know that, he loves to tease, but he’s right in that you don’t think he would about this. You catch yourself nibbling on your bottom lip, and stop. 

You do your best to affect his unflappable blasé when you say, “Zero, so far.” 

That blasé hardly holds up now. Remus sits straight up. “Never? Not once?” 

You can’t bring yourself to look at him, so you focus on covering the spot on your neck. “Nope.”

“Not even by yourself?” 

“You make it sound like it’s so easy.” There’s some bitterness in your tone as you tilt your head up, inspecting your work in the light. “I haven’t tried in a while, because I was never able to. I got sick of it.” 

“Oh, sweetheart.” 

You try not to melt. Remus will call you that, from time to time, but given the context of your conversation you wish he wouldn’t. Suddenly his room feels a little bit smaller, the atmosphere more private than before.

You look at his reflection, expecting to find teasing in his expression, but it’s thoughtful. Contemplative. 

“You said you wouldn’t make fun,” you remind him. “I feel like that should also include feelings of pity. Let’s not act like it’s some great tragedy to not have cum before.” 

“No, I’m…it’s not that. You’re right, there are worse fates.” One corner of his lips curves slightly, and you mirror him, relieved. “I was just thinking that I could…well, I might be able to help.” 

“What?” A little laugh trips off your tongue. Your face is really feeling warm now. “Do you have some kind of manual or something?”

“Would you want my help?”

“Is there a diagram you’re going to show me? Trust me, I’ve seen those.” 

“Answer the question, love.” 

You set your makeup down, expelling a breath. Meet his eyes in the mirror with a shrug. “Yeah. Sure, I’d be curious.” 

Remus studies you. Analytical hazel eyes and a map of scars you would know blind. “Tell me if this makes you uncomfortable, but I could show you, if you’d like.” 

Your breath seems to stall in your lungs. “On…” you trail off, not wanting to misunderstand him. 

“On you,” he confirms. “Would you want that?” 

You’re nodding before you can think enough to speak. Your head feels slow and fuzzy, like you’re navigating a dream. “Yeah,” you manage. “If you’re alright with that.” 

“Wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.” Remus spreads his legs open on the bed, patting the space between them. “C’mere, love.” 

“What—like, now?” 

“Do you have another engagement?” He gives you a little smile. It squishes the scar underneath his left eye adorably, but when you hesitate he sobers. “Hey, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” 

You shake your head, and it’s like your body remembers how to move, propelling you up from your seated position. “No, sorry, I’m good with this. I think I’m just a bit nervous.” 

“That’s alright,” he reassures you. “You don’t need to be, though. It’s only me.” 

You see his eyes drop to your mouth, and you let your lip slip from between your teeth a second time. Remus is right. If there’s anyone you should be comfortable learning this with, it’s him. 

When you go to crawl up on the bed, he stops you. “Probably want to lose the pants first,” he suggests. 

Right. You set your fingers to the button, and it seems to fly open of its own regard. You feel Remus’ eyes on you as you slide them over your hips and step out. 

“Underwear too, or…” 

“No, we’ll keep those for now.” Remus holds a hand out for you, and you get up onto the bed, letting him help you settle in between his legs. It’s impossible not to be conscious of the feel of his pants against your bare skin, or how comfortably he wraps a hand around your thigh, pulling it open that much wider. “Do you usually start with everything off?” 

“Yeah,” you say. “Isn’t that sort of the point?”

“Sometimes,” he hums. “Sometimes, though, it helps to work up to it. You need to get warmed up, you know?” 

You murmur an affirmation, though you don’t actually know. There’s never been much warming up when you or anyone else has tried to do this before. But it doesn’t matter, because then Remus starts rubbing the outsides of your thighs with both hands, and any sound dies in your throat. 

“You have to start slow,” he says in a low voice. Scarred, strong hands moving over your skin. “Everyone responds to different things, and it’s about feeling out what works for you.” 

You can’t imagine how this wouldn’t work for anyone. Remus touch starts moving inward, until his long fingers are dragging over your inner thighs, fuelling a familiar warmth at their apex. 

“Are you feeling more relaxed now?” 

You wet your lips. “I think so.” 

“Good. If you’re feeling up to it, you could try touching yourself other places, see what works.” 

Tentatively, you slip one of your hands up your shirt. Your breasts feel more sensitive than usual, and when you squeeze one, combined with Remus’ hands on your thighs, it makes your breath catch. 

“There you go, sweetheart. You’ve got it.” 

Your body starts to slacken against him, but Remus doesn’t seem to mind. He only uses his grip on your thighs to drag you closer, propping you up. You can’t tell which one of you is warmer. 

Without warning, his hand brushes over your mound. You gasp. 

“Is this okay?” Remus asks, his voice closer to your ear than it had been. He gives you another stroke over your panties. 

“Yes,” you breathe out. 

“Alright. Tell me if I do anything you don’t like.” 

One hand continues moving over your thigh while the other drags the fabric of your panties aside, flattening over your cunt. 

“Oh, poor girl,” he coos. “Is all this for me?” 

Your silence must scream mortification, because he chuckles and bumps the side of your head with his affectionately. 

“Sorry, I’m only messing with you. Is it always like this?” 

You lie. “Yeah.” 

Remus hums, dragging two fingers through your folds. You squirm in his lap. Your hand has completely forgotten your breast. 

“I usually start here,” he says, one finger circling your clit. It slips and slides in the mess you’ve already made. “You do the same?” 

You nod fervently. He adds another finger, moving over it gently, and has to tighten his grip on your leg to keep it open. Your breaths start coming faster as he repeats the motion. You can feel him getting hard behind you. 

Just as your pleasure starts to take you under, Remus’ fingers fall away. 

“Your turn,” he says. His voice sounds slightly hoarse. 

When you hesitate, confused and a bit bereaved, he chuckles, taking your hand in his and pressing your fingers to your clit. 

“Show me how you’re gonna do it, sweetheart.” 

Tentatively, you try to copy his movements. Your own fingers feel clumsy and inadequate compared to his, but after all the work Remus has put in they’re still enough. You chase that tightening sensation, hips twitching into your own touch. 

Remus doesn’t leave you on your own for long. His hand finds your cunt again, seeking, it seems, every possible way to drive you to madness. He collects the slick pooling by your entrance, sliding it up and down through your folds, and when his fingers breach your hole you make a soft, surprised sound that sends his lips down onto your shoulder. 

Instantly, you’re aware of how much better this feels. Remus’ mouth is warm and soft, a contrast against the roughness of his stubble. He sucks at you gently, warming you up like he had your cunt, before letting his teeth scrape lightly over your skin. Your date from last night had been so eager to get your neck into his mouth, suctioning onto you like a parasite and rolling your skin between his teeth in a way that hurt more than it helped. Remus is all temperance. He bites you, and then licks it over to make sure you’re soothed. 

The thought occurs to you that maybe you shouldn’t be comparing Remus to someone you actually dated. 

He curls his fingers inside you, and every thought you’ve ever had falls away. All you are is a collection of sensations and wants. 

“You’ve got it, darling, keep going. You’re doing so well.” 

Your fingers and Remus’ working like one mind, until your thighs are shivering and he has to redouble his efforts to keep you still. Your head lolling onto his shoulder, the way his lips transfer to your neck as if it's the most natural thing in the world. His scruff scratching under your jaw, moving as he says your name. 

The myriad of other things he says, sweetheart, baby, good girl, you’re doing so good, growing raspier as the pressure in your core worsens until you worry you’ll shatter if he doesn’t keep ahold of you. 

“Let go,” he instructs, kissing the skin beneath your ear lovingly. “You’re alright, just let go.” 

You choose to trust him, and your body—your being—snaps.

You make sounds you can’t hear, your own fingers stuttering and stopping while Remus works you through the new sensation, murmuring assurances into your skin. Runs his free hand over your trembling thigh. 

Eventually, your mind quiets enough to hear that his breathing is nearly as labored as your own. He slips his fingers out of you. You try to turn around to face him, but your body betrays you, slumping against his front. 

Remus chuckles, smoothing a hand up your side. “Good job, sweetheart. You did beautifully.” He smears a kiss over your cheek. “How was that?” 

You sigh blissfully. Your brain feels pulverized. “Really good.” 

Another soft laugh. “Yeah? Glad to hear it.” 

“Thank you.” You lean your head on his shoulder, trying to look up at him. 

“You’re welcome,” he replies, voice warm with amusement. “Honestly, I should probably be thanking you. I feel quite lucky.” 

You hum bemusedly. Remus’ sex-slicked fingers run lazily over the inside of your thigh. Perhaps your mind is still addled from your orgasm, but this feels incredibly normal to you now. 

“Really? Why?” 

“I just,” he exhales, leaning his head against yours lightly. “I just can’t believe I was the first person to hear you make those sounds.” 

“Oh.” You feel the tickle of embarrassment coming back to you. It draws your shoulders in. “Sorry. Was I very loud?” 

“Don’t apologize, sweetheart.” Remus turns his head, kissing your temple firmly. “You were perfect.” 

[prompt-heaven]

smut prompt list no. 1

1) classic only one bed, then oh no we’re cuddling in our sleep that then evolves into sex

2) hate fucking

3) friends with benefits 

4) first time

5) phone sex

6) public sex

7) possessive sex

8) sex outdoors

9) gangbang

10) casual threesome between pals

11) cockwarming after a long day in order to calm down together

12) sex pollen

13) high on adrenaline kind of sex

14) make up sex

15) break up sex

16) inexperienced person gets a little “lesson”

17) reunion sex

18) complicated sex with an ex

19) angry sex in the middle of a fight

20) gentle comforting sex

[leneemusing]

HYPER SPECIFIC SMUT PROMPTS

note: some of these may include kinks and fetish dynamics which might be squicks for some (tw for power imbalances, dubious consent, breeding etc), proceed with caution and please feel free to cross out what you don't want to write when reblogging <3

ALTERNATE UNIVERSES

[ ARRANGED ] muses are in an arranged marriage and now have to consummate the union

[ EXES ] our muses broke up a few years ago, they run into each other at a party and end up having sex again

[ INFIDELITY ] our muses used to date but it didn't work out, they're now both in relationships but end up in an affair together. this prompt is for their first time entering the affair.

[ AFFAIR ] our muses have been having an affair and receiver tries to stop but ends up having sex again, claiming it's the last time.

[ POWER ] sender is receiver's boss and knows receiver has a crush on them. they decide to act on it late night during closing.

[ CRUSH ] receiver is sender's boss and knows sender has a crush on them. they decide to act on it late night during closing.

[ TEACH ] receiver is sexually inexperienced and approaches sender to ask them to teach them and help them get more experience after they had a bad date.

[ TAUGHT ] sender is sexually inexperienced and approaches receiver to ask them to teach them and help them get more experience after they had a bad date.

[ TUTOR ] muse A has been tutoring muse B in a subject they struggle with. after a long session which has both of them frustrated, they end up having sex on the table and ruin the books.

[ TUTORING ] continuing the above scenario, the tutor quizzes the pupil while stimulating them. every time the pupil gets a question wrong they are edged or punished in some way.

[ LEARN ] our muses are in college together, muse A is popular and socially adept but has bad experiences with keeping a romantic partner. muse B is shy and has a smaller friend group but the friendships are more emotionally deep than anything A has experienced. the two muses are in a study group together and strike up a conversation in which they come to a deal: muse B will help A become more academically cultured and emotionally sensitive enough to get the partners they want. in return muse A will help with muse B's social standing. they begin a sexual relationship under the guise of helping muse B come out of their shell but really muse A just has a crush on them all while B thinks they're being used.

[ FIGHT ] our muses are leaders on opposing sides of a war. they have known each other before the war and now their sexual tension is worsened while trying to negotiate a truce. while disagreeing on terms they have rough sex, each one trying to dominate the other.

[ BATTLE ] our muses are soldiers and on the eve of a battle they might not survive they have sex together

[ CAPTIVE ] receiver is sender's captive and has been trying to wear them down over time by connecting emotionally. they initiate sex in hopes it will buy them freedom. (up to you if it's genuine on both sides or only manipulation)

[ CAPTIVATED ] sender is receiver's captive and has been trying to wear them down over time by connecting emotionally. they initiate sex in hopes it will buy them freedom. (feel free to specific circumstances of captivity)

[ FRIENDS ] our muses have been best friends for a long time. lately one or both have had bad luck with dating and just want some comfort so they decide to have sex.

[ SPELL ] our muses must have sex for a magic ritual which requires multiple rounds from 3 am until sunrise.

[ HEIR ] muse A is the leader of the nation and has not been able to produce an heir (feel free to specify reason), muse B has been selected by their doctors and council to try and bare their children.

[ghouletteanon]

"Show me how you do it when you touch yourself.”

mountain/dew please

Thank you for the prompt Chi!

I wanted to explore the idea of Dew being insecure about putting his needs and wants first and this is the result.

Prompt #15: “Show me how you do it when you touch yourself.”

~600 words, Dew thinks Mountain fucking him is just fine. He doesn't come from it, but it's fine. Mountain disagrees.

Rated M.

Dew sighs. It's not that it's not enjoyable to have Mountain on top of him, making him feel so safe and small as the massive earth ghoul pounds him into the mattress from behind. It's nice, it's fun and Mountain is really into it so Dew should be fine.

It's just that it's just fine. He likes it when Mountain seeks him out specifically, and there’s something special in being thrown around and put into place that Dew finds addicting, but the act in itself is just fine.

When Mountain finishes inside him, filling him deep and locks them together with his knot, Dew is still not anywhere closer to an orgasm than when Mountain started fucking him.

Mountain hugs Dew close as he carefully moves them both so they can spoon on the massive bed. Dew looks down to see Mountain's hand splayed over his belly, and Dew shivers at the contrast. He is mentally counting down how soon Mountain's knot will take to come down so he can escape and clean up in the bathroom without insulting Mountain's performance in bed. Mountain is insecure about a lot of things already, Dew doesn't want to add to the list.

"Dew…" Mountain mumbles into Dew’s nape, the name hanging like a question between them.

Dew doesn’t trust his voice not to reveal his thoughts, so he only replies with a chirp.

"You didn't come, did you? You never do when we fuck."

"I can take care of it later. You got distracted, it's fine." Dew is grateful Mountain can't see his face as he tries to keep his tone neutral. "I'm not your fucking problem."

Mountain lets out an unamused huff at the pun. "You sort of are. I want to know how I can please you just as much as you please me."

"I don't need your fucking pity." Heat spreads over Dew’s body as he fights to keep himself calm and cool and collected. He wants to claw himself out of this, even if he knows he physically can't without hurting both of them. “And you’ve got me off before. I don’t need to come when you fuck me, it’s fine.”

"I don't want to be a bad lay for you. Please, show me how you do it when you touch yourself? I want to know what you actually like, not what you do because it’s fine." 

Dew is oddly touched, but he hesitates. What if Mountain decides it's too much of a hassle? Dew sighs and confesses into the crook of his arm. "I'm warning you. I can't come from penetration only. Not on my own, not with a partner. And I might be too sensitive right now for it to work right now."

"We can do it later. I just want to be good for you, Dew."

"Right back at you, big guy." Dew feels Mountain hugging him close and Dew welcomes it. He covers Mountain's hand with his and intertwines their fingers. It's nice and awfully domestic. "Just saying now before you regret it. It's a whole thing so you have to take an afternoon off. Worshipping yourself a ritual of self love like Papa used to say."

"Nema to that. You show me yours and I'll show you mine," Mountain kisses every part he can reach, making Dew laugh as his goatee tickles his sensitive underarms.

---

Dew forgets about the night and Mountain’s offer, memories lost in a haze of intimacy prompted by Mountain’s post-nut clarity and the chaos of living on the road and constantly working. But when they have a day off Mountain shows up at his hotel room, eyes full of glee and anticipation, carrying a bag that Dew later finds out contains Mountain’s favorite toys to use on himself.

It's a great afternoon.

[superblysubpar]

return to main menu // Everyone say thanks to @palmtreesx3 - I owe her and the request for the prompt "we're not really just best friends, are we?"(which isn't even used in this, but you get the picture) and The Breakfast Club for this fic 💛

Sincerely, Yours:

bestfriend!steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: a movie night, a confession, an offer, your Calvin's bunched up on the floor of your best friend's BMW...and other places | my blog and this fic are 18+ Only, NSFW

the song: Don't You (Forget About Me) by Simple Minds

words: about 6,600

warnings: "inexperienced" reader - in the form of never really making out/receiving none/not great foreplay | mentions of masturbating for comfort/ease before sex | SMUT (public - in the back of Steve's car - "caught" by Hopper when you're done / oral / fingering / steve cums in his levi's cause I'm a sucker for doing this to him, what can I say?)

He didn’t hear it at first, over the last remaining popping kernels. 

“What?” He called around a mouthful of the snack he was already dipping into before it was finished. 

In the other room, your attention was strictly on Judd Nelson, but you tried again, with no real power or meaning behind the words. 

“Want me to pause it?”

“No,” he shook his head and rolled his eyes to no one but himself in the kitchen, “Don’t think you need to pause the movie I’ve seen three times…this week.”

“I’d love one, thanks!”

Steve snorted at your response that made no sense, it becoming apparent you weren’t listening to him at all.  He should have known this was his fate after the way you acted when it was showing at The Hawk. You saw it with him, then Robin, then Nancy, and Steve put his foot down when you tried to drag him down there for a fourth time.

Now here he was, dumping the popcorn into a large bowl and watching it again. He didn’t even know what number of views he was on with you, which had him worried about your sanity, ‘cause you had to be watching it without him too. 

Steve snagged two cans of Coke out of the fridge, assuming that’s what you’d love one of, and kicked the door closed with his heel. 

He cradled the popcorn bowl against his side and held each of the cans with one hand and spread fingers, socked feet slipping on the hardwoods when he rounded the corner and saw you again. 

Despite becoming incredibly bored by the movie, he did love watching you watch it, because somehow, it’s as if you’re watching it for the first time every time. 

Your white tube socks were stark against the dark wood of the coffee table, bunching around your ankles that led him to the exposed skin of your calves. Which led to the way your blue skirt fanned over your thighs all nice, then the Queen shirt he got you for your birthday tucked into it, your thumb between your teeth with your eyebrows bunched together. 

His best friend was really fucking pretty. 

He almost said it out loud, which had him flopping onto the couch a little quickly, a little too heavy with his fall. Careless in his aim of the cushion and causing popcorn to spill from the bowl into your lap as his shoulder jostled yours. 

Before he could even say sorry, you were grabbing the popcorn from your lap like it was the bowl, blissfully unaware it wasn’t, all the while making heart eyes at dreamy Bender.

“Thanks,” your appreciation came out heavy around the buttery and salty handful of the snack, the Coke you’d love sitting on the coffee table, already forgotten.

Steve hummed, his amused lips twitched in a losing fight against a smile at your captivated stare fixated on the screen. He suppressed an eye roll at the scene about to happen, as he swiped condensation off the cool metal of the can with his thumb. 

He popped the drink open with a loud hiss, slurping his first sip - a habit you’d normally swat at his chest for - but you were too busy focusing on the words about to leave Judd’s mouth. 

“Have you ever kissed a boy on the mouth?”

They sort of just tumbled out of Steve too, while his eyes glanced over the popcorn bowl, searching for a perfectly buttery piece. Which is why he didn’t see that he, your best friend, quoting the scene that has dialogue that got you all hot and bothered more than others, had your entire body freezing. 

Steve tossed the acquired piece into the air, catching it in his mouth before he turned to face your profile. He found you with widened eyes, chest rising and falling a little too quickly, and he grinned. 

“Have you ever been felt up…over the bra…under the blouse…your shoes off, hoping to god your parents don’t walk in?”

He’s simply delighted when he quotes the scene again and your body shifts, toes curling as you arched your neck away from. You kept your eyes on the screen, not giving him the satisfaction of eye contact because of what he was slowly, finally, realizing.

You were totally turned on and he couldn’t wait to tease you about it forever.

Steve leaned in closer, whispering along with the movie, “Over the panties…no bra…blouse unbuttoned…Calvin’s in a ball on the front seat past eleven on a school night?”

He’s gearing up, about to tease you, make some dumb boy comment about being hot for the school freak, when your quiet, barely a breath response had him pausing. 

“No.”

Did you just say that out loud?!

Your head turned to find Steve blinking at you, creases in his forehead deepening beneath the stray locks of hair that fell forward. 

Looks like you did.

“Ste-”

“What? What do you mean no?”

Your eyes closed when you both spoke at the same time, avoiding his curious stare. Hands roamed to your cheeks to hide your face as your head fell towards your knees. 

As you shook your head no, your response gets muffled into your skirt. “I meant no.”

Steve’s hand nudged at your shoulder, prodding for clarity and for you to sit up. He failed to sound casual when his question came out incredulously.

“No, you’ve never kissed a guy?”

Your hands still covered your face as you fell back against the couch with a groan, “No, I..I have. I just…”

Steve pulled at your hands, his heart racing like it was overtime. All these years, he thought you’d been with all these other guys, his quiet jealousy seething under the surface of his tinged green from envy skin. 

A breath, well, more of a huff really, slipped past your lips as your gaze dropped to the hands holding yours in your lap. “I’ve never really made out with anyone? Just like…a quick kiss or two. I don’t even know, can you even count it as kissing? Over before it starts kind of thing…”

The ramble trailed off, the room silent save for the movie still playing and the giant, loud, big, fat, zero response from Steve. You counted the threads in the carpet, the pieces of popcorn in the bowl as your skin grew hotter and hotter from the reveal he’s left just hanging there until he  finally sputtered out a sorry excuse for one.

“Are you shitting me? We’re like…old.”

It doesn’t come out how he meant it to at all, he’s just shocked. He’s wincing almost immediately as the words reach his ears and brain, he knows how it sounded. He wishes he could take it back when your head whips up, hurt eyes meeting his as you ripped your hands away from him. 

“Yeah, Steve,” you scoffed, jaw pulsing as your voice dripped with sarcasm that tried to cover  the embarrassment, “I’m shitting you. Thought it’d be real funny to trick you into thinking your best friend is a loser who’s barely been kissed even though she’s so old.”

Pieces of popcorn fell from your lap as you stood, not letting yourself wonder where they came from as you stomped around the coffee table and towards his entryway. 

“No, honey, wait-” he stumbled after you, spilling Coke down the front of his shirt as he did, “Shit.”

He patted at his chest like it’d do anything, shirt damp and sticking to his skin as he rounded the corner and found you lacing up your converse and shaking your head. 

“It’s fine, Steve. I’m fine. I just don’t feel like talking about it. I’m gonna go home. Don’t worry about it. Girl stuff.”

“No, please, I didn’t mean-”

His words stopped just as abruptly as your body, when the front door swung open to reveal an out of nowhere downpour. 

Your head fell as you started to ask, and he was already one step ahead of you.

“Can you please-”

“I’ll grab my keys.”

He was tripping up his stairs by the time he finished saying it. When he returned, it was in a clean shirt, jumping from the second to last step as he swirled the keys around his pointer finger. 

The light blue fabric of his new shirt pulled at his shoulders that hunched when your glare remained unwavering despite the apologetic puppy dog eyes he had going for him. 

You understood Steve didn’t mean for the comment to start the hole he was digging, and you knew you weren’t being fair for being so upset. It’s not like it was his fault, it was just your own insecurities manifesting in an anger towards him. 

The nagging feeling of being some sort of freak who’d never made out while even the little twerps who clung to Steve were, while your best friend was Steve Harrington, former king of Hawkins High only grew stronger. The thought of Steve thinking you were some sort of weirdo for being old and never making out had something in your gut churning, had a familiar sting behind your eyes forming that you tried your best to ignore. 

When Steve opened his mouth, about to try to make it all better again, you simply turned on your heel and stalked out into the rain. He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at the way you stomped through it, pretending to not be drowned. 

He quickly rushed behind you and got to the door first and swung it open, to which you rolled your eyes at, but slid in and got comfortable while he closed it for you nonetheless. 

Unsure why he went and changed as he raced around the hood and shot into the driver’s seat, totally soaked through to his skin now. He cranked the heat before swiping fingers over his eyes, a large hand ran through his hair and pushed it back only for it to fall into his eyes again. Steve reached over with wet and shaking fingers at the same time you held yours up, both of you pausing and glancing at the other’s hands. 

Steve was about to cup your fingers between his and blow warm breath onto them, just like he always did, but you ripped your hands down to your lap, and curled your body against the door, like you needed to be as far from him as you could be. 

Your damp forehead touched the cool glass of the window as he sighed, “Please don’t-”

“Just take me home, please?”

The tone in which the words were said has something in his chest breaking. Like you were really fucking sad, embarassed, it was a real plea to just take you home and leave you alone. 

So he wasn’t gonna do that, ‘cause he never was a great listener, so why start now?

He pretends though, he backs out of the driveway and heads in the direction of your apartment. He lets the radio fill the space and he turns the heat down when the air inside the car is heavier and warm despite your cold shoulder. The orange glow of the street lights slanted inside the car in a soothing rhythm as his wheels spun over the pavement until he was coming to the last four way stop before your apartment. 

It unfolds just as he had planned, when he’s still stopped at the deserted intersection, as your breath fogged up the glass when you asked, “Harrington, you planning on leaving the intersection anytime soon?”

His bottom lip wobbled as his teeth continued to press into it, thick fingers rubbing at a scruff dotted jaw as he thought out loud in an attempt to sway you. 

“Well, you see, I could go straight and take you home-” he started. 

“Right. Let’s do that.” You waved your hand towards the direction of the apartment that held the ice cream you were desperate to eat and wallow with while watching Pretty In Pink. 

“Or,” Steve interrupted right back, tapping on the steering wheel with his finger as he did, “I could go to the right. Pull into the diner. Buy you a milkshake and say sorry?”

The thing was, he was gonna go to the right regardless of your answer. He knew once you pulled into the parking lot there was no way you’d not at least go in and get fries and a shake, if not a whole burger. You’d done this dance before, him putting his foot in his mouth was not a new occurrence. 

Your lips twitched, but your arms stayed crossed as he hummed and whispered, “Tough choice…tough choice…”

Shoulders fell in defeat, but your mouth stayed downturned in a forced frown as you grumbled, “And fries.”

Steve smiled, turned on his blinker and nodded. He cleared his throat.

“And fries. Definitely.”

“And none of that you order yourself a vanilla shake and I order strawberry and you drink half of mine because it’s better and eat all the fries shit.”

“Of course,” Steve scoffed, “I would never do that.”

Steve slipped his straw into your shake, pulling the glass across the sticky tabletop as you did the same with his. He tried not to smirk around the straw when you did, dipping a fry in his vanilla he ordered for a reason despite the strawberry being better. 

“Do you think Claire is a prude for never doing anything?”

He shook his head no almost immediately, swiping at stray ice cream from the corner of his mouth with his tongue. 

You fiddled with the straw wrapped between your fingers and narrowed your eyes at him. 

“Would your answer be the same if, say, Eddie was sitting here asking you? Not me, your best friend, who you have sudden pity for?”

He blinked at you and sighed, “I don’t have pity for you.”

“Your mouth and your eyes are telling two different stories Harrington,” you waved a fry at him as you spoke, gesturing to his face with it. 

Your gaze stayed on the fry you were ripping in half, focused on watching it sink into the sweet vanilla as he dared to say, “I just don’t get it.”

“What, that I haven’t done that and I’m so old,” you tried to tease, to move past it. 

But the way you were licking salt off your finger had him wondering if he swiped his own through the salt on the tray and pushed the pad against your lips if they would part like they were now, if he could taste it on your lips if he just leaned forward and-

“No, ‘cause you’re so fucking pretty.” 

He definitely said it out loud that time. 

You blinked at him, cheeks suddenly too warm for the cold and damp Spring that had been surrounding you all day.  

“Ste-”

“And so smart,” he licked his lips, leaning forward, unable to stop now that it was out, “And funny. And…and sweet, you’ve got the biggest heart of anyone I know, I just don’t understand how guys aren’t falling over themselves, unable to do anything but make out with you, or more or-”

“I never said I didn’t do more,” you whispered, ignoring all of his compliments that made your chest feel all tight and sticky and choosing to argue with him instead because that was easier. 

“But you said…if you haven’t made out with anyone…” 

Your body slipped lower against the squeaky seat, embarrassed as you shrugged and Steve felt too hot in the tiny little booth, thinking about all those guys’ hands on you again, and then what you said, what it meant, really clicked. 

“Hold on…how…how’d…you didn’t, build up to it?” He asked softly, eyes bouncing over your face with worry. 

“Steve,” you grabbed for the other shake, and sat up straighter, “We don’t need to talk about this. It’s not import-”

“It’s so important,” he grabbed your hand and squeezed your fingers lightly, “Half the fun is all the build up to it. And,” he swallowed, forehead creasing with deeper worry, “And then it, it doesn’t hurt. ‘Cause tell me if I’m wrong, but if they weren’t making out with you, were they doing anything to make sure you felt good?”

You squirmed in your seat, fingers pushing up against his mindlessly, aimlessly, as you shrugged again. “It’s only hurt a few times. I learned that if I…um, If I got myself ready beforehand, that I was, uh, more comfortable.”

Steve’s fingers let go of yours with the excuse of grabbing a fry, because he was trying not to be a gross guy, but all he could think about was you in your bedroom, with your fingers between your thighs now. Did you play music? What song? Did you have underwear on? What color? With a shirt that your nipples were visibly hard through as you touched yourself and maybe it was his shirt or maybe you said his name or-

“Right,” Steve nodded, “Um, right. And that’s great, lots of people do that for a date, so like if you need or want to beforehand that’s not…that’s great. It just shouldn’t be the only thing, you know? They should be putting in the work, they should be wanting to. And dates! They should watch a movie with you, and dinner and drive around and then kiss so much you feel dizzy and then if you want, more.”

He finished his rambling speech and you smiled softly, unsure of what to say, because you knew he wasn’t wrong, it’s just that they had. 

“They did,” you sighed, “Well, not Paul.”

Steve scowled at the table, “Yeah, well, I’m sure you weren’t missing much. Who wants to yell out Paul?”

“Oh,” you laughed, “And Steve is so much better?”

He looked up at you, your smile sweet and kind and your eyes a little sad, but trying not to be and he wanted to say yes. He wanted to tell you that if it was those lips and that voice saying it, it was better, because how could it not be? Like his name only had the best letters, like it belonged to the best guy in the world, one that belonged to you and no one else. 

But you were swiping at ice cream on your lips and sighing, saying something that made his chest ache instead. 

“They were nice dates. And it’s not like the sex was bad. But,” you looked out the window, eyes tracking the droplets of rain twinged neon from the light hanging above you both, “The kissing till I’m dizzy sounds nice. Is it…is it fun?”

“Yeah,” Steve whispered, admiring the way the red and blue lit up your profile before you turned to face him. 

And then he was saying something before he really thought it through, because god you weren’t just fucking pretty, you were the most beautiful person he’d ever met and no way in hell was he letting anyone treat you the way you’d been ever again. So this was his chance, and he was taking the leap.

“I could…” he blew out a breath and smiled. He sat up straighter, and he searched for some sort of lingering king steve confidence he could latch onto without all the douche as he asked, “I could show you?”

To both of your surprise, you’d said yes, and he paid and you were in the car, driving, and parked somewhere in what felt like seconds. Now your best friend sat across from you, both of you facing the center console, but not daring to do more. 

The rain beat against the roof of the maroon car, each drop a punctuated tick of a nonexistent clock - a meter for how much time was passing without movement, without words. Just both of your breathing filled the space. First exhaling, then desperately inhaling for more air as your chests rose and fell ragged. And then, like in some unspoken agreement only best friends can have, you both started to lean forward cause you just knew. 

Your heart’s thrum threatened to drown out the rain, building and building, screaming to break out of your chest, pounding in your ears while your cheeks grew warm and your stomach dipped as Steve’s tongue slipped out quickly and wetted his lips. 

But then he leaned and his eyes started to close and you giggled, fingers slipping over your lips as his eyelids shot open. 

“Sorry,” you gasped and shook your head and your hands out as you tried to be serious, “Your ‘I’m about to kiss you’ face is real cute, Harrington.”

Tried being the definitive word. 

“Cute?” He groaned, smiling, “Not sexy?”

You leaned in, faster this time, a smile matching his as you shrugged, “It’s nice. Never thought I’d be on the opposite side of it, is all.”

It’s easy to tilt your head and welcome the hand that reached up to cradle your jaw as he softly promised, “Your ‘I’m about to be kissed face’ is really cute too.”

The pad of his thumb brushed over the apple of your cheek in the tenderest touch you’d ever felt, before his fingers curled under your jaw and tilted you gently, slowly, up so his lips were right over yours. 

It felt like he was handling you like the most precious and fragile thing, like a prized possession that he’d only ever hold with care and never let another soul touch. 

His breath fanned over yours, warm and sweet smelling, vanilla and cherry just out of reach for you to taste as you dared to quip back again. “Alright, I’m gonna have to cross reference these lines with other girls you’ve promised to make dizzy, Harrington, cause if that’s the first time you’ve used that, I’m afraid it’s far too smooth…”

Steve’s heart felt like it was trying to claw out of his chest as you laughed, smiling at him when he responded, “And, I think that’s enough out of you.”

Which you couldn’t help but reply back to with, “Yeah? Have some fancy trick to get me to stop talking?”

He laughed, low, muffled and deep in his chest. “A few.”

A sharp inhale slipped past your lips when his nose bumps yours, not realizing how close he’d gotten while you joked back and forth nervously. There wasn’t a protocol on how to let your best show you a proper make out, on how to just dive in and start, you just knew you wanted to. 

Steve’s swallow bobbed his adams apple as the leather beneath you creaked from shifting weight, needing to get closer. And as you did, his eyes found yours, mossy and dark in the low light, the browns and golds washed away in the rain. Their gaze flitted down to your lips, back up to fluttering eyelashes, and then his own eyelids were closing. 

All it took was another breath in, an exhale out, and his lips were on yours. A simple, slow press, holding your top lip between the both of his. Strawberry and vanilla teasing you, and soon he was moving, now bottom lip between his and you got it. Your mouths parted together, lips slotting in a rhythm that came naturally, that clicked. 

Something in your stomach fizzled and crackled like the sparklers you lit every year in his driveway on the fourth as the sigh from his nose hit your cheek. Body warm and sticky in a way that was usually reserved for Summer when his fingers skated over your jaw, up and around your ear, until they were cradling the back of your neck and pulling you closer. His mouth moved with yours in a way that could only be described as frantically graceful - needing more, hurried, hungry, but with the promise and precision of someone who knew what he was doing. It had your stomach dipping, like a freefall, like the greatest and scariest thing you’d ever felt. 

If he’d have opened his eyes, he’d have found you with your hands suspended between your bodies though. Fingers not quite brave enough to reach up and get lost in his hair, but not content to just sit in your lap and do nothing either. 

And if you'd opened your eyes, you’d have found his other hand gripping the center console like he was hanging on for dear life. ‘Cause holy shit was he trying to go slow, but kissing you was like chasing the last few minutes of sunlight in July - sweet and fleeting and magic - something you needed to make last, to soak up every last drop of until you couldn’t any more, not by choice, but because the sun has to set and he has to breathe.

In a shared gasp for air, you parted, but his lips were back on yours immediately, making your stomach swoop even more, like an entire family of butterflies had decided - hey, we live here now and we’re gonna make a ruckus so get used to it.

You didn’t mind. 

Steve’s fingers found yours and without breaking his rhythm, he tugged, guiding them to his shoulders that were practically on your side of the console now, which wasn’t doing something great to his already somersaulting stomach. 

He slowed down as your fingers brushed over and back on the collar of his shirt and his hands cradled both of your cheeks, pulling you off of his lips regretfully. You were both breathing like you’d run a marathon, his forehead pressed to yours as he gasped out, “Dizzy yet?”

“No,” you lied. 

He grinned, tip of his nose tracing the bridge of yours as he admitted, “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you like that.”

You couldn’t even respond, couldn’t tell him you wanted that too, couldn’t tell him that it was something you only dared let a daydream or two convince you it could happen before you were shutting it down, cause he was still talking. 

“And now that I have,” he swallowed, his thumbs glided down opposite sides of your neck as he shook his head, “I’m never stopping.”

Then he was kissing you again, and if you thought he was frantic before…

You had this feeling that even if those other guys had made out with you, kissing them wasn’t and never would be the same as kissing Steve Harrington. 

Soon one of your feet was on the seat, the other bracing yourself in the footwell. He had a hand on your hip and the other on the back of your neck and yours were finally starting to dare to journey past their spot on his shoulders and then your skirt was caught on the gearshift and he was stopping you again. 

“Honey, what are you doing?”

“So was that ‘never stopping’ just a nice sentiment or are you planning to back it up with action?” You huffed, distracted by pink lips that twisted into a crooked smile as he looked at your pretzeled body. 

Your shoulders fell as you nodded your head towards his side of the car and admitted, “I just want to be closer.”

“Oh, right.” Steve swallowed, and you wondered if it’d be weird if you kissed every freckle and mole you could find on his throat. Something told you he wouldn’t mind when he asked, a little more eager than you’d heard tonight, “Backseat?” 

And you clambered out of the car, the slowing rain soothing to heated and flushed skin under the mussed clothes, and then you were both meeting in the backseat, but the nerves returned. The way you both glanced at the space between you and were immediately and acutely aware of the lack of anything between you except doubt and fear. Was this a mistake? What about your friendship?

Steve looked at the space, at you, and then held up his finger in the symbol for one sec as he said, “Hold on,” and half climbed back into the front seat. His torso draped over the console as he loudly opened the glovebox and rummaged around inside, before he was fiddling with the radio, and falling back into the seat. 

His cheeks pink, but his smile wide as he looked at you again. “Hey! I’m so glad we could do this tonight. You look beautiful. Ready to watch your favorite movie?”

“Wh-what?” You laughed, totally and utterly confused. 

He tugged on your fingers, and pulled you to the middle, until you were slouched next to each other, shoulders touching as he shushed and said, “The Breakfast Club is starting.”

And the music playing over the radio,Simple Minds, a cassette he must have put in, had your chest swelling with something that was sure to burst and explode and kill you, because the boy was actually pretending you were on a couch, on a date, in a living room, watching a movie - it was perfectly Steve and you, and the best first date you’d ever been on. 

His left hand picked up yours, resting it on your thigh and played with your fingers. The pads of his traced up and down and over your hand as he stared at the windshield, his temple resting against yours. The music played, and his fingertips swooped between the curves of each finger aimlessly, the sides of his fingers running down yours and back up making it really hard to concentrate on the non-existent flick. 

When you finally relaxed into his side, when you flipped your hand over so he could draw little loop de loops on your palm, he quietly asked, “Who’s your favorite?”

“Brian,” said without hesitation. 

Steve groaned, in pain, “Ugh, you would like him the best.”

You laughed, turning to look up at him a bit from where your head had fallen to his shoulder, “Don’t knock him Steve,” you spoke softly, fondly, “You’re a lot more of a dork like him than you think.”

Steve made a pft noise, fingers now interlaced with yours as he turned his head, the tip of his nose touching yours as he looked down at you with the sort of look the guys give the girls in the movies, one that should be illegal from the way it had that family of butterflies shouting about their presence again and fluttering around. 

“Hey Steve?” 

“Hmm?” He hummed, eyelashes fluttering as he sighed when your thumb brushed over his knuckles.

“This is a really great…first date?” You asked, hopeful that it wasn’t just an offer, that you weren’t some game, that the guy next to you was just as crazy about you as you were him. 

“Yeah?” He smiled, proud, and then bragged, “Wait till the second one.”

It was your turn to hum, to look into his eyes and get a little lost as his mouth parted and you both scooted closer, waiting, as he squeezed your fingers wrapped around his. 

“You’re making the ‘I’m about to kiss you face’ again, Steve,” you whispered, lips brushing his as you did.

“Right,” he whispered back, bottom lip catching yours as he suggested, “Which means you should probably stop talking again.”

This kiss wasn’t as easy and smooth, made difficult by grins of fools who were totally in love but wouldn’t admit it just yet, but how could you both not be after years together?

But you smoothed it out quickly, and soon he was swiping his tongue over your bottom lip as his hand gripped at your waist a little tightly. He traced over your top lip as your entire body turned towards his, like a plant in search of sunlight, his body on yours fundamental to your survival.

He gasped as you straddled him, your mouth swallowing the sound as his hands roamed up your sides, taking the hem of your shirt with it so his fingers could scrape at the skin just under your ribs before they dared to drift along the band of your bra.  

You let out a sound that he’d never forget as long as he lived when you finally lowered yourself, skirt fanning over your laps so the sinful way he pressed up against your pristine soaked Calvin’s was slightly hidden. The unclip of your bra and the removal and toss over the seat was fluid, and you couldn’t think about it because the way his hand on your chest felt, the thumb over a pebbled nipple was something you’d only let yourself think about in moments of need before a date that wasn’t him. 

Steve was wrong, the build up was more than half the fun.

The way his hands buzzed against your spine like the air after fireworks, the way his tongue brushed yours, the way he couldn’t help but guide your hips to rock against him. Denim hitting cotton in the exact right spot so the nerves underneath it got the friction they were aching for, while your mind ran away from you, thoughts about how this was just getting started. How there was more. 

His lips left yours and his smile pressed to your jaw when the action got a soft whimper to fall from you. He tutted into your neck, lips grazing over an erratic pulse as he whispered, “Can I touch you?”

“Is that,” your breath hitched around the words as his tongue licked a thick stripe over your neck that extended, “Is that a part of making me dizzy or the more, when I’m sufficiently so?”

“You’re not yet?” His teeth scraped at where his tongue had just been. “I like when you say words like sufficiently, ‘s’hot.”

You laughed as his lips kissed the same spot, and then he was sucking, skin beneath his tongue warm and sending a message to your brain that you liked that a lot. 

“Yeah,” you hiccuped, eyelids fluttering in their view of the car’s roof as you arched and his hands gripped your hips, “Yeah, touch me.”

He didn’t have to be told twice, arm around your waist holding you steady while the other traveled under the hem of your skirt. His mouth moved to below your ear and as his fingers glided up your thigh. He sucked and kissed, and sent that message to your brain again, having you say his name and god’s in the same desperate sentence. 

Steve wasn’t gonna last much longer. 

Especially when his fingers met the wet cotton and you moaned, so much filthier than he’d have thought possible. Especially when he circled over your clit through the fabric and you rolled your hips with the movement, far dirtier than he thought you were capable of. 

“Fuck baby, you’re soaked.” He mouthed at the collar of your rucked up shirt, looking down at the way your hips rolled over his but he couldn’t quite see what was underneath. 

You hid in the crook of his neck, hot, and you didn’t know if it was because the windows were fogged and Steve was so fucking good at this or because you were embarassed by how turned on you were from his next words. 

“Please, I gotta,” he slipped a finger under the fabric and you shuddered as it ran down your slick and back up, “I gotta taste you. I need to put my mouth on you. Let me make you feel good, yeah?”

You were on your back, Calvin’s in a ball on the front seat, with Steve crouched between your thighs not even a minute later. 

Thick fingers toyed with the hem of your skirt from his spot, blown out pupils taking over his stare up at you. One of your converse pushed to the other side of the car against the door as your fingers curled around the base of the sweating window above you. 

Steve kissed your knee, and made his way higher between your legs slowly, until he was flipping your skirt up and swallowing as he stared at the space like it was a fucking artwork. 

You giggled, nervously under the intense awestruck stare, squeezing your eyes shut as he strained to get out, “Fuck, honey, you’re trying to kill me.”

He was mesmerized, the way you clenched around nothing, his thumbs spreading you so he could see just how wet you were for him. 

He was really not gonna last much longer. Straining in his jeans painfully like a teenager. 

And that was before you whimpered, before you said:

“Steve, please.”

“Only,” he swallowed, leaning down so his breath hit your cunt in a way that had your hips wiggling, and him closing his eyes, “Only cause you asked so nicely.”

His thumbs held you open, massaging the sides as his tongue licked once, slow and broad, following the path of his nose up to your clit. He did it again, and again, and again. Until his fingers were slipping inside of you, pumping in and out of walls that held him tightly and his mouth sucked at your clit. Then you tugged, forcefully at the curls at the back of his head and practically screamed his name. Like it was full of only the best letters. Like it was yours. 

Your stomach burned, the butterflies angry and in your chest now too, on fire, but happy about it. Steve’s fingers inside of you and mouth on your clit better than any orgasm you’d ever had, and you couldn’t help it when you came without warning, toes curling inside of your converse that kicked at the door and his thigh, while your fingers slipped on the window and your chest ached for a breath as it yelled his name in a way that the whole world would have to know how you felt when they heard it. 

He didn’t pull away until you were gasping and your thighs were shaking and your fingers loosened in his hair. His cheek pressed to your thigh as he stared up at you and gasped out a proud, smug, “I’d like to see Bender of Brian do that.”

You laughed, tired, but happy, and he crawled up your body, kissing any part of it he could find while he ignored the uncomfortable wet patch in the front of his Levi’s. 

Except you noticed and raised your eyebrows at it, a little smug yourself as you said, “Bet Claire couldn’t do that.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but then you were both flinching as a loud smack of something hit the back window. He glanced up and cursed under his breath, rolling down the window slightly as he called out from on top of you, “Hey, Hop.”

There was a loud, deep, sigh from outside as you both sat up with apologetic faces and Steve rolled down the window further. 

Hopper’s cigarette smoke wafted in as he looked at the pair of you with a touch of surprise when he saw it was you next to Steve in the fogged up beemer. He shook his head, frown under the mustache forced.  “It’s past eleven. On a weeknight. Have some decency and do this at home in front of a movie like normal people next time, yeah?”

You both nodded, your teeth pulling at your lip in a terrible attempt at not smiling. 

He walked away, and you and Steve slapped hands over each other’s laughs and snorts, but you still managed to catch the quiet, “Bout damn time.” 

And when Steve dropped you off at home, with a kiss to seal it all and a promise of a real date tomorrow that he’d pick you up for, you shoved the bunched up Calvin’s in his front pocket with your own promise, whispering in his ear the words “Sincerely, yours” before you left him with his mouth open on the front steps, watching you walk away. 

*if you liked this fic, the minor follow up is: Risky Business

[cressidagrey]

It's a Love Story - Chapter 6

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

DEFINETLY NSFW! Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible.

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

For somebody that filled her romance novels with plenty of smut… Sky wasn’t exactly as experienced as one may expected. 

Actually…she was woefully inexperienced.

There had been Admon…and Admon it had been.

The rest of the stuff in her books…well, that was just her fantasy wildly spinning stories about how sex should feel. Informed by plenty of books she had read, other authors, and of course…there were the two people that got to read every book she wrote before it was published: Orla, her publisher, and her friend Ressina, who was nice enough to take the pen to every thing she wrote that was woefully inaccurate. 

Because nothing ever felt to her like she portrayed it in the books.

Maybe that was normal. Maybe it was because of course her books portrayed something…better than reality, an escape from it. But still…sometimes Sky had just wondered…

As Azriel carried her towards the bedroom, Sky couldn’t help but feel a flutter of nervousness in her stomach. It wasn’t that she didn’t want this, she did, more than anything. But the truth was, she was…nervous.

She had written about this moment countless times, had described it in vivid detail in her novels. But now that it was actually happening, she felt…insecure. What if it wasn’t as good in real life as she made it out to be on paper? What if she did disappoint him?

(Sky knew that she had disappointed Admon numerous times…that she seemingly had never been enough for him…had been so bad at it in fact that he had instead slept with her sister…which was a whole other kettle of fish that she really didn’t want ot think to close about right now.)

Sky tried to push those thoughts aside, to focus on the here and now. 

Azriel was here with her, he wanted her just as much as she wanted him. She could feel it in the way he held her, the way he looked at her. And yet, that nagging feeling of doubt still lingered.

And then there was the fact while he had admitted to sending his shadows to search for her… Sky was still keeping a rather big secret.

“Az…Azriel…” she said hesitantly.  “There…there is one thing you should know about me.”

Azriel paused, setting Sky down on the bed gently before turning to look at her. 

"Go on," he prompted her gently, taking her hand in his as he sat down next to her and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "You can tell me anything, Sky." She believed him. he wouldn’t judge her. She was sure of that as well. 

“You…You k…know how…how I…I write… ro…romance no..novels?” Sky asked him, biting her lip.

Azriel nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yes, I do," he said, leaning in closer to her. "You told me.”

“I…I am Sellyn Drake,” she blurted out.

She had never outright admitted it to another person. 

Ressina had been the one who had send off her first manuscript to be published…and Orla had met with her…these were the two people in existence that knew that Skylar Alden was also Sellyn Drake. And Skylar had always been comfortable with keeping it that way. 

There was no need to tell anybody else. 

Which was why it worked so well, that Ressina was an artist and could paint the bookcovers for her. No need whatsoever to let anybody else see the hesitant first drafts until she was sure this was where she wanted to go. Just Ressina. Just one of her very few friends. If not her only. 

Azriel stared at her, his eyes widening in surprise. "What?" he asked, completely taken aback. "You're...Sellyn Drake?" There was no…outright disbelief in his voice, just shock. 

*We know! We made Master read your books!* the shadows cooed. *Lady Death, The Priestess and The Shopkeeper love them too!*

She had no idea who any of these people were but…

Azriel's eyes widened even further as the shadows spoke up. "You...you knew about this?" he asked them, turning towards the shadows in disbelief. "You knew. That’s why you gave me her books to read!”

This was just getting better and better.

Sky, who had been watching Azriel and the shadows’ exchange with a mixture of nervousness and embarrassment, couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. 

“Do…Do they always…” she couldn’t even put it into words. 

Azriel sighed. “They like to meddle,” he said darkly. “And this time they were particularly persistent.” He shot a reproachful look at the shadows, who cowered a little under his gaze. "I won't lie, they did manipulate me into reading your books. And when my shadows do something they are rather...convincing."

She swallowed. 

“Did…did you…li…like them at…at least?” Sky asked hesitantly. 

Azriel hesitated for a moment before answering. 

"I...I did," he admitted earnestly. "Your writing...it's brilliant, Sky.” Her heart soared at his words. She treasured them, hoarding them away like a dragon. But he wasn’t done. “The characters, the emotions, the way you make the reader feel everything...it's incredible. I couldn't put them down."

Sky grinned at his words, feeling a swell of pride in her chest. "I…I'm glad you..you li…liked them," she said softly.

*Master especially liked the…*

“Shut. Up.” Azriel snapped, his ears reddening and Sky started laughing. She could just about imagine what the shadows wanted to tell her at that moment. 

Azriel groaned, burying his face in his hands. "I'm going to kill them," he muttered under his breath.

"They…they are ju…just try…trying to help you, aren't they?" she asked softly, squeezing his hand in hers. Only now she noticed the violent scars that marred them, the texture of raised and bumpy skin…but she didn’t care. Not one bit.  

*Of course, we are,* the shadows said, like any other idea was simply blasphemous. *We gave Master the best information we could. So that Master would know what you like.*

Sky probably shouldn't find it as adorable as she did. But the lengths they had gone to...the way they had made Azriel read her books so that he would know what she liked...nobody in her life had ever gone to these lengths just to find out what she liked.

"I swear I am not a total creep," Azriel told her with a grimace.

Sky laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. "No…no, no, you're not," she assured him, squeezing his, hands gently. "I…I ac…actually think it's… quite… sweet. In a weird, sli…slightly invasive kind of way. But sweet nonetheless."

"I think you are the only female that could possible think that," Azriel muttered, glaring at the shadows that didn't seem apologetic in the slightest.

Sky grinned, leaning in closer to him. "It’s… endearing,” she finally settled on. “Maybe even a lit…little bit charming," she promised him earnestly.

Azriel looked at her incredulously, his expression softening a little. "You're not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?" he asked her.

Sky shook her head. "No. No, I'm not," she said, her voice unwavering. "I…I mean it, Azriel. It iss actually really sweet that you would go to… such lengths just to try to un…understand me better. And you ad…admitted to it. And not just after the mating bond was accepted but within hours of meeting me." 

Azriel didn't keep it a secret, even when he could have, and she would have been none the wiser. 

"I don't know what I ever did to deserve you. But I'm not going to question it," he whispered. 

She swallowed. That's what she was thinking. The exact same words. 

Sky pulled him down, letting his forehead rest against hers.

"I know that...that I am supposed to cook you something...but how disappointed would you be if I gave you one of those caramel bonbons in my purse to accept the bond instead?" she asked him softly, meeting his gaze. 

His eyes widened and he stared at her in pure, undiluted wonder. 

"I could not possible be dissappointed by whatever you offered me," Azriel whispered. "But...are you...are you sure?"

"I am being utterly selfish," she whispered. "Yes. I want you." She didn't care that people would have thoughts about it...that she was rushing into this. 

They were probably right. 

But Sky really didn't care. Sky only wanted him. Sky was ready to throw caution overboard and rush into this headfirst without a thought about the consequences, if that meant that she would get her mate.

"Then let's be selfish together," Azriel whispered.

With shaky hands she reached into her purse, finding one of the caramel bonbon she kept in there...unwrapped it out of the paper and then...then she offered it to him, lifting it to his lips.

Azriel looked at the bonbon, then at her, and for a moment she thought he would say something. But then his mouth opened and he took it from her hand... He chewed it, swallowing carefully, his gaze never wavering from hers. For a moment, they stayed suspended in that moment of tension, the only sound their breathing. And then, he leaned in, closing the distance between them, and kissed her as if she was the most precious thing in his entire world.

A Mating Frenzy had always been protrayed as animalistic in every book she read. So of course, Sky had written the exact same thing.

But it wasn't...not really.

Not for them. 

And being with Azriel was also a far cry from being with Admon...mostly because then it had often been...embarrassing and painful. 

Admon had always found something to criticise on her body...foreplay had been nonexistent, even when she had tried...and while he had been more than willing to use her mouth to find his own pleasure he had never returned that favour.

With Azriel it was different. Every touch, every caress, every kiss made her feel things she had never felt before. It was like her body was coming alive for the first time.

All her senses were heightened, every nerve in her body singing with pleasure, and Sky couldn't get enough of him. She wanted more. No, she needed more. As Azriel trailed kisses down her throat, she arched her back, pressing herself against him, her hands roaming over his body, exploring every inch of him that she could reach.

"Can I...Can I touch your wings?" she asked breathlessly, not wanting to...cross some unsaid line.

"Please," Azriel breathed out. "Yes, Sky, please." He lifted his wings, extending them out behind him, giving her free rein to touch and explore to her heart's content. As Sky's fingers brushed against the contours of his wings, Azriel let out a low, guttural moan, his wings twitching and shuddering at the sensation. They were massive and pitch black.

"They are beautiful," she whispered, running her hands over the silky black skin, feeling the warmth radiating from them.

He shuddered at her touch, his wings arching and trembling beneath her gentle caress. he leaned his forehead against hers as he gently tipped her back against the bed and she went willingly, wrapping her hands over the gleaming talons at the tip of his wings as she kissed him.

Azriel growled softly in response, his hands sliding up beneath her dress, opening the lacing in one fluid motion. As the dress fell open, revealing her body beneath, Azriel pulled back for a moment, looking down at her with dark, hungry eyes. "You are so beautiful," he breathed, his gaze roaming over her body.

She didn't even have the time to feel self-conscious, not when she was drowning in the waves of desire that shot across their bond from him. Not when her whole body seemingly trembled against his and she kissed him again, opening her mouth to his tongue.

He slipped open the dress and she opened her mouth, halfway ready to tell him how he could get the corset she wore off, but he already opened the lacing. "Why?" he asked her softly, as he saw the red indents left on her body, and she grimaced.

"Claire," she whispered.

She wore corsets usually for support, because her breast could get heavy and painful without the proper support...but she never laced them as tightly as she did when she saw her family. Or her sister. Then she pulled them tight, trying to squash her body to be something…something her family could stomach, something they maybe wouldn't comment on...she always failed.

Azriel hissed softly, his fingers lightly tracing the red marks on her skin. She knew that they looked horrible, and yet he looked...angered? Almost furious. His expression softened as he looked back into her eyes, his fingers gently tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "Why would you do something like that to yourself, Sky?" he murmured, his eyes searching hers. "You are beautiful. You don't need to change anything about your body." He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to a particularly hard imprint the corset had left.

Sky swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in her throat as emotion welled up in her chest. No one had ever said something like that to her, had ever made her feel like she was good enough just the way she was. She opened her mouth, trying to speak, but no words came out. Instead, she just nodded, feeling a single tear slip down her cheek. Azriel wiped it away with his thumb, his other hand coming up to cup her face tenderly.

"You are perfect," he whispered, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Just the way you are. Don't ever let anyone make you feel otherwise. Not even your family." Sky leaned into his touch, closing her eyes and just focusing on the closeness, the warmth, the feeling of being cherished and protected.

With every word he spoke, she felt a weight lifting off her shoulders, her fears and insecurities melting away. She realized that maybe, just maybe, she had found someone who truly saw her, the real her. Who accepted her exactly as she was, flaws and all.

It was so easy to sink into that. So easy to trust him. So easy to just kiss him, as she pushed the shirt he wore over his shoulders...to feel acres of gold skin, dotted with scars and dark markings...to bare him for her view and see how utterly gorgeous her mate was.

He growled softy as she ran her hand down his chest, tracing the scars that marked his skin. His body was a tapestry of pain and survival, yet she wasn't deterred. She only found him more beautiful for it.

"Mine," she whispered, pressing her lips to his chest, to one particularly nasty scar. "All mine." She could feel his heart pounding beneath her lips, the steady beat matching the rhythm of her own heartbeat. Her hands trailed down his chest, his stomach, until she reached the waistband of his trousers.

It was so easy.

So easy, to shed clothing until they were bare...so easy to press against him and feel warm, perfect skin...so easy to relax underneath him as he stretched over her...so easy to simply cup his face as she kissed him...as her legs wrapped around his hips and he groaned and she whimpered as she felt him...hot and hard and huge, pressing against her...She was dripping wet without him even laying as single finger on her beneath the waist.

Azriel didn't look unaffected, his breath coming in ragged pants, his eyes fixed on hers as they were blown wide and dark with want. He didn't move, didn't kiss her, didn't pull her closer. He only waited. Waited for her. 

"I need you," she whimpered. "Please. Please, Az." He let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a growl, his hips rocking gently against her, teasing them both with the heat and friction between them.

Nothing hurt. Nothing ever even threatened to hurt...Even as she could feel him notch against her there...even when she could feel herself lewdly stretched open on his cock...

It was so soft and gentle and sweet and…

It was everything Sky had ever wanted. 

Not the rough kind of fucking...not the animalistic coupling she wrote half the time...but she had wanted this. She had wanted sweetness and adoration and...love...and to be wrapped up in her mate's arms like she was a precious, precious thing. She had wanted whispered praised against her skin and to be touched like she mattered...

"Sky," he whispered, his hands running up her side, his touch was soft and soothing, worshipping her body. He kissed her, slowly, deeply, and there was something...almost overwhelming about it.

About the way he made her feel. The way he made her feel loved and adored. The way he made her feel cherished. Her hands wandered up to his back, tracing the muscles shifting beneath scarred, scarred skin.

She could feel him trembling, feel the tension in his body as he held himself back, but still, he moved in slow and gentle thrusts, taking his time. He worshipped her - every little gasp and moan, every curve of her body. He traced her shape with his fingertips and lips, exploring her as though he was trying to memorize every inch of her body.

She didn't know how long they stayed that way, their bodies as one, but Sky didn't care. She was surrounded by him - the heat of his skin, the sound of his breath, the way he whispered her name like a prayer. Sky could feel the love and devotion pouring through the bond, washing over her in waves, and she knew that this was exactly where she was meant to be. With him, in his arms, completely and utterly whole.

It nearly came as a shock as she came.

A breathless moan fell from her lips as her orgasm rushed over her, her body arching as she called out his name. He kissed her through it, murmuring praise against her lips as he held her close, his own release following soon after.

They stayed there for a moment, tangled together, both of them breathless and sated. Azriel's wings slowly wrapped around them, cocooning them in a warm, protective embrace that made Sky feel safe and cherished in a way she had never experienced before.

***

There was not one inch of his mate's body that wasn't utterly beautiful. From the tips of her arched ears, to her beautiful eyes...to the swell of her breasts and the dip of her waist and the soft flesh of her belly and the flare of her hips...she smelled so good too...especially now that their scents had started to mix, and he could breath in caramel and hazelnuts and cedars and the sweet, beautiful scent of happiness as she laid underneath him. His head was bedded on her stomach, as she drew short fingernails through his messy dark hair. He nearly wanted to start to purr as she scratched at his scalp.

Azriel felt...content.

More content than he ever remembered feeling. He was wrapped up in her, his mate, with her gentle hands in his hair, and he felt utterly and completely at peace. He didn't care if they never moved from that bed again. He didn't care if the world outside their little cocoon burned. So long as she was by his side, he was content. He had never felt like this before. He had never felt this...happy. This...whole.

"I need to go feed Hector," Sky told him softly, trailing her fingers through his hair.

"Can I just have the shadows kidnap him and bring him here?" he asked, not wanting to move.

"You can't go kidnapping my cat, Az," she chided him gently, but even as she said the words, she didn't stop drawing her fingers through his hair, and Azriel didn't move. He was far too comfortable.

"Why not?" he complained.

"You'll terrify him," she said with a laugh. "Besides, do you have cat food here?"

"I'll have the shadows find some Tuna," he mumbled.

"Do…Do they just ac…acquire whatever you tell them to?" she asked him with some amusement. 

And lots of things he didn't tell them to, as well. They thought he didn’t know. 

Azriel raised himself on his forearms, looking down at Sky with a glint in his eye. "You have no idea how many things I've acquired that way," he told her with a grin.

She lifted her hands, cupping his cheeks and pulling him down towards her, resting her forehead against his. "You're a menace," she murmured against his lips.

"Your menace," he replied, kissing her softly.

Sky smiled, a warm, slow curve of her lips that made his chest feel tight. "Mine," she agreed, her voice soft. "But no kidnap…kidnapping my cat. He's at home."

"We could make this our home," he protested softly. "Move in with me."

Azriel had no fucking clue what was even coming over him. They should have slowed down, stopped to think...but neither of them seemed to want to.

They just…they seemed utterly content to crash through what other people considered a normal timeline and just be together right now. 

He just wanted to be near her. He wanted to share a life with her, a home. He wanted to curl up with her in front of the fire on a cold winter's night, and spend lazy Sunday mornings in bed with her. He wanted to take her flying, and watch as she wrote and listened to her read the words she wrote. 

And he wanted - Gods, he wanted her to want that too. He held his breath as he waited for her response.

For a moment, she was silent, and Azriel wondered if he had stepped too far, asked too much too soon. 

But then, Sky smiled again, her eyes sparkling with emotions. 

"...Al…Alright," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'll…I’ll move in with you." 

Azriel couldn't help but grin as he pressed his forehead to hers. "Really? You mean it?" he asked, still unable to believe his ears.

"Really," she echoed with a laugh, before her expression turned serious. "But I…I have one co…condition." 

Azriel raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue. "What is it?"

"If I move in with you..." she began, wrapping her arms around his neck. "All my books need to come to," she told him seriously.

Azriel laughed, leaning back in to kiss her softly. "All your books can come, if that's what you want," he said. "As long as you're here, I don't care what else you bring."

And then the shadows unceremoniously dumped a screeching demon on the bed with them.

Sky let out a surprised yelp as Hector landed next to them with a thud, quickly scrambling away from the cat - and from under Azriel's weight. Azriel, for his part, sprang up, his wings flaring out in alarm. For several long moments, the three of them just stared at each other. Hector, his mismatched eyes glowing, his fur puffed up to twice it’s normal size, and Sky, her expression a mixture of surprise and affection as she looked at her pet. Finally, she cleared her throat. "Well, that's one way to introduce the two of you. Az, meet Hector."

...Gods, the shadows had really not been lying when they said that the cat was the ugliest thing they had ever seen.

Azriel slowly lowered his wings, eyeing the creature that was half-cat and half-demon. "He...looks like he wants to kill me," he said slowly.

Sky laughed, reaching out to scratch Hector's head. "He's just grumpy because he got teleported here so suddenly," she told him. "And he's not used to strangers." Hector's fur slowly flattened, and he began to purr, rubbing his head against Sky's hand. "Besides, he'd never hurt anyone," she added, looking up at Azriel with a smile.

Somehow Azriel highly doubted that.

Sky picked Hector up, cradling the cat in her arms as his purring grew louder. "See? He's not so bad," she told Azriel, moving towards him, and Azriel had to resist the urge to back away. "Hold out your hand, let him sniff you. He just needs to get used to you."

Azriel hesitantly held out his hand, trying his best to ignore the way Hector's eyes seemed to glow with an eerie light. After a moment, Hector moved forward, sniffing at Azriel's hand. Azriel felt the soft brush of whiskers against the palm of his hand, and Hector nudged his head against him, purring louder.

"See, he loves you!" Sky said enthusiastically

Azriel let out a laugh, slowly scratching the top of Hector's head. "I think he's just trying to lull me into a false sense of security before he scratches my eyes out, you know."

She rolled her eyes, "You are the most handsome cat I know," she cooed at him. "And you won't ever scratch out Azriel's eyes. No, you won't.”

Azriel would not quite go as far as describe the cat as handsome...but then...his own scarred hands weren't particularly beautiful either.

So Hector and him had that in common.

And the fact that they both wanted to cuddle with Sky. Actually, he was pretty sure that the cat hated him just for taking away his monopoly on that.

But Azriel would have shared a house with the King of Hybern if that meant that he got to have Sky in his bed.

She smiled at him, her eyes warm and adoring. "I knew you two would hit it off," she said, holding Hector in the crook of her arm. The cat stared at Azriel for a moment, as if sizing him up, before leaping off Sky's lap and disappearing under the bed with a soft patter of paws. "He'll warm up to you eventually," Sky assured him, but Azriel wasn't so sure about that.

He pulled Sky in closer to him, slipping back underneath the sheets with her, kissing her forehead. "I'll win him over, eventually," he promised her. At least, he hoped he would - he didn't particularly enjoy the idea of having to wake up with his throat being sliced open by an angry cat.

He would buy that damn cat all the Tuna in the world if that made Sky happy.