ruby 🩻

to say that you had a thing for sam would be an understatement. actually, it was closer to a growing obsession, a dirty secret. no matter your innumerable attempts at finding a distraction, a new thing to obsess over, your mind always drifted back to sam, to his hands.

it started very innocently. you were slumped in the backseat of the impala, eyes locked on the road ahead, until you heard the ruffling of clothing against the leathered bench. sam was fast asleep, a book still sitting in his hands. your eyes wandered over his peaceful figure before landing on his arms, then his hands. his thin, elongated fingers almost made you blush as your perverted brain pictured them on your body, in between your lips.

after this event, something in your brain switched. you couldn't help but quickly glance at his hands each time he passed something to you, or when he sat next to you in a local library, too focused on his research to notice your wandering eyes.

your ever-growing feelings for sam were getting harder to handle now that the sexual aspect of your friend became the main subject of your daydreaming sessions. but nothing could've prepared you for what was about to come next.

the current weather is unbearable, to the point where you physically cannot digest anything that's not either slightly refreshing, or entirely frozen. the three of you were desperate enough to interrupt your ride back to the motel as you searched for the nearest grocery store or gas station. once you were lucky enough to find one, dean hurried in, bringing back popsicles, ice cold beers, and a bunch of citrus fruits that sam had requested.

sam fishes an orange out of the grocery bag before sitting next to you on the edge of the curb, the both of you needing a break from a very tired and complaining dean. your eyes follow sam's every movement, widening as his hands start to work the fruit, flexing as he removes the peel.

your gaze lock on his long fingers, pushing between the wedges to split the fruit open, juice leaking out immediately. the translucent liquid coats his fingers while a few drops run down his palm, then past his wrist.

he manages to catch a few with his tongue, flat against the skin as he runs it up his arm. his lips trap some of the juice that started pooling in his palm with an obscene slurping sound, resonating directly to your core.

you can't help but wonder if he'd do the same to you. would his tongue trail up your inner thigh in hope to get a taste of you? would he catch your juices before it spills? or would he be too caught in the act of pleasuring you, not stopping until you can't babble his name no more?

this is a point of no return, and you find yourself squeezing your thighs together desperately, deeply ashamed and eaten alive by your sudden arousal. you wish that you could blame sam, but you know damn well that you asked for it.

a soft call of your name brings you back to the real world, and you quickly realize that it came from sam, who's looking at you with fairly parted lips. "are you okay?"

you blink twice, letting you eyes readjust before meeting his. you don't get the chance to reply as the coldness of your fingers shifts your attention back to the melting popsicle in your hand. the juice glazes your skin, its sugary composition leaving an uncomfortable, sticky layer on your fingers. "uh, yeah. i think i should go get some napkins or something, you want some?"

sam only flashes you a toothy smile of his as your stand, still facing him, before replying, "no need."

he slowly brings his fingers to his mouth, starting with his thumb as he wraps his lips around it, forming a small pout when he sucks on the rough pad with a soft hum. once he's satisfied enough, he sticks his tongue out to drag it along his middle finger, all while sneaking quick glances at you.

you can't tell if he's doing it on purpose, if you're imagining it, or if the whole act is just inherently sensual.

whatever it is, it's working.

you make you way towards the car, stumbling on your feet in the process. you hurriedly grab a few napkins in order to clean your hands, and your mind races. unsure if you'd rather act on it, or bury this frustration of yours as deep as possible.

as you finally gain your composure back, sam is already looking at you. there's something in his eyes that you can't read, a dangerous spark you'd prefer not to acknowledge. when you finally sit, he extends his still sticky hand towards you, offering a slice. "want some?"

it takes you a few seconds to understand the gesture, still shaken up by your overworking mind. you raise a shaky hand to accept the slice, and sam takes advantage of the small gap between your parted lips to place the small piece in your mouth.

his hand hovers near your face, waiting for you to bite on the slice, or swallow it whole. when you do so, his fingers land on your bottom lip, tracing it carefully. you open your mouth, almost unconsciously, and you see it again, that small smile on his lips. it even twitches when you slowly suck on his finger, a strange rush of pleasure traveling though your body, making your eyelids close.

sam presses his digit against your tongue. it's warm, and a shaky breath escapes him as a broken whimper reaches his ears. his awareness of the public setting you're currently in makes him withdraw from between your lips after long seconds. your eyes flutter open, and realization hits. he already misses the feeling of your tongue working around his skin, tasting him with a neediness he's never witnessed before.

sam catches the reddish pink tone of your cheeks, and he brings his tacky hand to the crown of your hair, petting you gently. "is this what you wanted all along?"

you nod once, a hint of shame lingering in your heart. the shy gesture makes his chest burn with need, like he has to give you everything you've ever wanted right at this moment.

"i think we should get back to the motel."

You and Steve have been seeing each other for a little over two months and in that time, he’s pulled out all the works. Thoughtful date planning, never showing up empty handed, never letting you touch a door or see the bill.

He listened when you spoke, always eager to give his two cents, and he remembered every little detail you let slip. He was enamored with you in every sense of the word. It didn’t take him long to introduce you to the group and just like  himself, everyone adored you.

Even if he couldn’t put it in exact words, he knew you were the one. He woke up thinking about you and fell asleep thinking of you. You were it for him, he was sure of it.

And right now, Steve Harrington was trying his best to remember all the chivalrous ideals his mother instilled in his head.

But as you sat perched on his lap, thighs bracketing his own, and your hips grinding against his cock – well, he suddenly felt a whole lot less gentleman like.

It’s late in the evening, you’d invited Steve into your house after another date gone perfect. He really did try to keep things classy – allowing himself to hold your hand or keep a palm at your lower back without over doing it. But when you dragged him to your bed with the promise of a movie? He didn’t stand a chance.

Your mouth smacks against his, the sloppy sounds bouncing off the walls around you. Your fingers were tangled in the nape of his hair, gripping and tugging every time he deepened the kiss.

He moaned against your mouth while his fingers squeezed at your hips. Subconsciously, his palms began following the movements of your hips – dragging your panty covered core over the inseam of his jeans.

Your hips stuttered at a particular drag, your lips parting as you breathe into his mouth.

Steve smirks against your mouth. “Yeah? That the spot, baby?”

You mewl against him. Your nails scratch against his scalp, all while you continue to grind against him. He stifles a smug chuckle against your lips and instead, sinks his teeth into your bottom lip, carefully pulling it back into his mouth.

He swallows down every moan you give him, savoring it on his tongue. Your shaky hands slip from his hair and slide between the two of you while you grab at his belt buckle. You fumble with the metal a few times before you’re able to unclasp it and in seconds, you pull it free and throw it to some forgotten corner of the room.

Your fingers continue their journey across his jeans, clawing at the zipper until it begins to slide it down.

Suddenly, Steve’s hands clasp around your hips in a real hold and he forces you still. He pulls his mouth from yours, the sound of both of your heavy breathing mixing together. He gently pushes you back so your bottom sits closer to his knees than his hips.

All he can focus on is the sad, confused look on your face as you look up at him.

“Are – Are you okay?” You ask softly and he’s quick to pick up on the insecurity blanketing your voice.

He swallows and for a second, he’s not sure how to respond.

It always goes like this. You and Steve can makeout for what feels like hours at a time but the moment he thinks it’s going too far, he stops.

It’s not that he didn’t want to have sex with you – he did, more than anything – but you two weren’t exactly official yet and he wanted to do things the right way. He didn’t want to rush things with you.

And maybe he was a little scared of how you would react when it happened.

Steve was a humble man, he could acknowledge the looks he had and the privilege it gave him. He was also acutely aware of just how much .. package he was given. It wasn’t always an issue, not entirely at least, but he knew there would always be a chance he could hurt you and he was ready to do everything to prevent that.

Even if that meant blue balling himself.

He keeps his hands on your waist, giving the skin a gentle and reaffirming squeeze.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He smiles softly. “I just – I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,”

The shake of your head you give him is so fast it’s nearly comical. “I’m not uncomfortable.”

His stomach flutters at the sheer conviction in your voice. He gently pecks your lips.

“It’s okay baby, let’s stop here.” His voice is so kind that it almost doesn’t make sense for your response to be a frown, but it is and it’s deep. He hates being the cause of it.

He doesn’t push you off his lap and you don’t make a move either. Your eyes have casted away from his own, instead they stare intently at the necklace resting against his chest.

There’s a deep crease between your brows and your mouth is still turned down into a frown. He can see the questions and confusion swirling behind your eyes. Just as his lips part to speak, your voice fills his ears.

“Have I been reading all of this wrong?” You ask suddenly and your eyes filter back to his own. He stares back at you, his lips slightly parted, and the look on your face is enough to have him worried.

You keep talking.

“You’re a great guy, Steve, a really great one and it’s been weeks of us hanging out and going on dates, and even making out, but..” Your voice trails off just slightly. His eyes glance down to where your fingers have been nervously playing with the hem of his shirt, scratching at the frayed fabric. “But you always stop before it gets too far and if you’re like, not into sex then that’s – that’s okay, really! I’d – I’d never pressure you or anything but I just, I don’t want you to feel like you have to be with me or something.”

By the time you’ve finished, your voice has gotten significantly quieter and timid. You won’t look him in the eye and as your words hang in the air, he feels guilt heavy in his gut.

He’s never wanted to make you feel unwanted by him, but clearly his intention didn’t help.

Carefully, he brings both hands to your cheeks and holds them between his palms. Your eyes are glassy and you still avoid eye contact but when he brushes your skin with his thumb, you meet his gaze.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like that, sweetheart.” The look in his eyes is so sincere that you regret saying anything. You shake your head in his hold.

“You don’t have to apologize Steve, really. I’m – I’m being dramatic. We can just watch a movie, yeah?”

When you shift to slide off his lap, Steve’s hands drop back to your thighs and he holds you firmly in place. Your wide eyes stare back up at him and you let him pull your body closer, all the way until you’re settled right over his hips again. You’re hovering right over his cock and you’re both aware of how much muscle you’re using to keep yourself up on your knees. He doesn’t rush you.

“You’re not dramatic,” He says quietly but firmly. You let him continue. “It’s not that I’m not into sex or not into you because trust me baby, I’m really into you,” A smile grows across your lips as he speaks and he feels the guilt in his chest slowly dissipate.

“Then what is it?” You ask softly, your hands carefully sliding up his bare arms until your palms rest against his shoulders.

He pauses then. He has every intention of being honest about his worries but he’s not sure how to say it without you laughing in his face. But when he looks at you, all he sees is the most open and curious expression. So, he bites the bullet.

“I’m worried about hurting you, baby.” He says. Your brows furrow at his confession and he can tell it did little to offer any clarity. Steve swallows and slowly runs his palms up and down your sides – he tells himself it’s to comfort you but it’s really for him. “This is gonna sound like.. really weird, okay? Believe me, I know how it’s gonna sound,” He breathes. You nod quickly, a wordless way to let him continue.

He keeps eye contact with you and takes a few seconds to put his words together. Steve wasn’t just worried about sounding like a fool, he was worried about the outcome of the entire situation. You wouldn’t be able to help this being a problem even if you didn’t want it to be, and what was the alternative? Go through with it and have you in pain or force you into a relationship without sex? It felt like a lose-lose.

But as he looked at you and that beautifully curious look in your eyes, he knew he owed you the chance to make the decision for yourself.

He takes a deep breath. “It’s – when I’ve had sex before, there’s been like, a problem I guess. Sometimes..” Steve can’t bear to look you in the eyes as he finishes his sentence and with a flaming face, he focuses on your pleated skirt instead. “Sometimes I can’t always fit.”

Everything freezes.

Not just slows down or dims – no, it stills.

Steve continues looking down at your lap, his mind running a million miles an hour as he waits for you to say something. Or laugh – he’s really betting on your response being a laugh.

Honestly, he’s just ready for the ground to crack open and swallow him whole. Anything would be better than the complete silence buzzing in his ears – especially with you still firm in his lap.

Then your voice fills the silence.

“Like.. you’re too big?” Your voice is gentle, almost like you’re coaxing it out of him. He grimaces at your question, the skin of his face covered in a blush. He’s entirely too embarrassed to respond so instead, he nods. Just one, timid little nod but it’s enough.

Any day now, Hell. Just drag me under. He thinks.

“Can I see?”

Steve’s head shoots up to look at you. Your face is relatively emotionless – but calm and open, he can see. You’re not judging him or laughing. Your hands are still holding onto his shoulders, your thumbs tracing little circles against his shirt.

He swallows. “You don’t – you don’t have to, baby. We can wait a bit longer.”

You nod in response but nuzzle closer into his lap. Not to tease him, just to be close. Your head dips and you bring your mouth to hover over his. Your lips brush, just enough to feel a touch of electricity but not enough to satisfy either of you. “I want to, Stevie. It’s okay.”

His eyes flutter shut, his mind and body already getting lost in you. Whatever kind of hold you have on him has him addicted and he doesn’t ever want to be sober again.

He’s nodding before he even notices. “We’ll go slow, yeah? And if you wanna stop, you can tell me. I promise I’ll listen.”

His words ignite a fire in your stomach – a warm, gentle fire. You smile back at him. “I trust you.” You respond simply.

An identical fire lights in his own stomach and without another word, his mouth surges onto your own again. You both moan out of relief into each other’s mouth and in seconds, each of your hands are clawing at each other – at any part you can reach and feel.

Steve devours your mouth with his own to the point that it feels like you’re one being. His hands anchor at your hips and without thinking, he starts moving your hips over him again. You move in tandem with him, chasing exactly what you’ve been craving for weeks.

He slides his palms from where they rest at your hips and down to your thighs, all the way until they reach the end of your skirt. He slowly rubs the skin of your thighs and for  the first time, Steve finally lets his hands wander below your skirt, carefully trailing up your bare skin until the tips of his fingers reach the trim of your panties.

Your breath hitches at his careful touching but you do your best to keep the same pace of your mouth against his. He slips his tongue past your lips, easily licking into your mouth – at the same time the pads of his fingers rub soft and slow circles into your clit over the lace.

You whine into his mouth, very clearly wound up tight already. Your own hand drop down to his jeans and try to tug his zipper down but his free hand holds your wrist still. He stops kissing you for a moment, but his fingers continue rubbing your clit.

“Wait,” He whispers gently. His mouth still touches yours as you breathe into each others mouths. “Let me do this first, yeah? Promise I’ll give it to you, just be patient.”

You’re putty in his hands.

Your heart slams against your ribs as you nod. You let your hands steer from his jeans and instead, you splay your palms across his abdomen. You can feel his stomach tightening beneath your touch and you crave the feeling of his skin against yours.

His presses his thumb harder against you, just barely but enough to have you cry out. Your fingers curl into his shirt, fisting the fabric as his fingers work you over. Your forehead drops to his shoulder.

“Good girl, baby. Such a good girl f’me,”

You whine at his words, nodding into his shoulder. He chuckles at your reaction and is quick to take note of how much you like his praise.

He’s even more sure of himself when his fingers curl around the edge of your panties and tugs them to the side. Your breathing is erratic against his neck, warm and uncontrollable on his skin, and he brings his mouth down to your throat.

His teeth sink into your pulse point at the exact same time he sinks his middle finger inside your cunt.

You cry out immediately, loud and unapologetic, and bury yourself further into his neck. Your hands slip beneath his shirt, finally feeling his warmth against your palms. Your nails dig into his skin as his finger begins to plunge in and out of you.

Your wetness quickly begins to soak not just his finger but his entire hand, slowly pooling in the cup of his palm. He gently shushes you, curling his finger perfectly until he nudges that perfect spot.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” He breathes. Your hips begin to rock against his fingers and the obscene sounds of your weeping cunt fill the room.

“Oh Steve!” Your voice is a blubbering whine and it sounds like music to his ears. He hums against your skin and carefully slides another finger in. “SteveSteveSteve,”

His fingers crook inside of you, gently brushing that spongey spot that has you seeing stars already. His fingers move at a tortuous and satisfying pace all at once.

“So wet for me, baby. God, I can’t wait to feel you around my cock.” He groans. Your eyes roll back into your head and you can both feel the way your walls flutter around him.

He doesn’t have to ask to know you’re close. He quickens his pace, plunging his fingers deeper inside you and curling them just right to bring you closer to the edge.

“Oh my – fuck! Right there, right there.” You cry out. Your thighs shake around his hips and you’re so, so close to falling over.

Steve uses his free hand to tangle into your hair and gently pull you from your hiding place in his neck. Your eyes are squeezed shut, specks of both wet and dried mascara staining the skin under your eyes. Your mouth hangs open and just before your body locks up, Steve slides in a third finger – easily pumping all three fingers in and out.

Your orgasm crashes into you. One second you’re riding Steve’s fingers and the next, you’re on an entirely different planet. You can barely hear the faint sound of Steve’s voice murmuring into your ear as his fingers slow down but move enough to prolong your pleasure.

The only thing you can register is him. His fingers, his mouth, his voice. It’s what slowly draws you back to reality, light headed and bleary eyed. You can feel his mouth gently glide across your skin, leaving a trail of kisses.

Steve watched your eyes blink back to normalcy at him, he can feel soft trembles in your limbs over him. He gives you a sweet smile and plants a peck to your mouth.

“Did s’good for me, baby. I’m so proud of you,” He whispers. You shiver in his arms as your breathing slowly returns normal. The smile on your face is wide and Steve has no choice but to mirror it.

You press your mouth firmly against his, easily taking control. Your tongue licks into his mouth this time and Steve has to stop himself from regaining control. He lets you lead the kiss and when your hands tug at the hem of his shirt, he easily discards it.

Steve strips your shirt next, and then helps you slide the skirt down your hips, until you’re left in your matching red set. He groans at the stark color against your skin.

Minx.

But as much as he loves it, he’d rather see it on the floor. He quickly slips his hands behind your back and unhooks your bra. He throws it across the room and uses one hand to palm at your breasts, using the other to tug your panties all the way down your legs, doing the same with them.

You moan against his mouth, your own hands trailing over the expanse of his bare stomach and chest. His skin burns beneath your palms, his muscles contracting under every brush of your hands.

This time when your hands find his jeans, he doesn’t stop you, but he does whisper, “Are you sure, baby?”

You let your hands continue to tug at his jeans, pushing them down past his thighs for him to kick away himself. You press your mouth harder against his, swallowing every moan of his. “I’m sure, Stevie.”

Steve doesn’t dwell on his own worries any longer. His own hands move to help yours in pushing his pants away until they’re around his ankles. He kicks them to the pile of forgotten clothing and lets you wander your hands to his boxers.

Tentatively, like you’re waiting for him to change his mind, you rub your palm over his covered length. He throws his head back at the first real kind of contact you’ve made with his cock so far and he uses all his willpower not to finish right then and there.

You smile at his reaction, a smug one, and continue to slowly rub him over the fabric. You can’t help yourself from already tugging the garment down and letting his cock spring free.

It slaps against his bare stomach and the first thing Steve registers when he looks at you is the wide eyed look on your face. It’s not fear or surprise, but something resembling awe.

He can see it in your eyes – how you’re thinking he was definitely right before. Steve is big, definitely bigger than anyone you’ve been with before, and it makes your mouth water. He’s thick and long, his pink tip leaking with precum that’s just begging you to taste.

For a second, his insecurities creep back in and as if there’s an alarm in your head, your eyes snap to his. You look at his lust blown eyes, flushed cheeks and parted lips. You hold his gaze with your own as your small hand closes around his cock, gently stroking him.

He moans aloud, hips already thrusting up into your palm. It’s painfully obvious he’s wanted this just as much as you. Your hand continues to work him over slowly, your wrist twisting and rising over his length.

His thighs tighten beneath you, his chest heaving with uneven breaths as he tries not to finish early. Your mourn lowers to the column of his throat, sucking over his pulse as your hand continues its movements.

“Fuck just like that, baby. Keep – keep doing it like that.” He pants. You obey of course. You leave a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses across his skin and even suck a mark into his skin.

Without Steve even noticing, you raise your hips and carefully guide his cock to your cunt. He doesn’t realize until he feels your soaked pussy siding against the tip of his cock.

His eyes shoot open, his hands gripping your hips tight – but he doesn’t stop you. His breathing stutters and his eyes flicker from your face and down to where you begin to connect.

“Baby –,” He gasps as you slide his cock through your folds. “Wait, go – go slow. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

His words are so sweet, so considerate, but you roll your eyes anyway.

You keep your hand wrapped around his length as your hips still over him. He can feel the tip of his cock just barely slip towards your entrance.

Your eyes lock with his and you use your free hand to hold his cheek. You wait until his eyes leave your pussy and find your own. That’s when you speak.

“Stop worrying so much, Stevie.”

And with that, you sink onto his cock.

“Oh fuck!” He whines out, his fingers digging harshly into the skin of your hips. Your cry is nearly identical as you slide down. You can feel every rigid and vein of his cock against your velvet walls and almost immediately, you’re pulsing around him.

The stretch is undeniable and intense but so good. It felt like being split open in the best way possible. Your eyes flicker down to where he disappears inside you and that’s when you realize he’s barely halfway in.

You moan at the sight. Your slick slides down his cock, soaking the base of him. It’s a sticky and lewd mess already.

Steve’s hips slowly rock upwards, his hands on your hips keep you in place. His own gaze locks onto where you connect and when you take a second to breathe, he thinks this is how much you’ll be able to take.

He’s not upset about it, not even for a second.

“You’re so good, baby. The fuckin’ best I’ve ever had, mhm.” He gasps out. You look down at him and the completely fucked out expression on his face, and you crave more.

You ignore the tremble in your thighs and sink down further. His beautiful brown eyes widen, his mouth hanging open as he watches your cunt swallow three more inches – almost all of him.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” He moans. “Don’t push yourself baby, it’s okay.” You ignore him, only responding with your own lewd moan as you finally sink down on him completely. Steve can’t hold himself back anymore, he sits up and wraps his arms around your body and thrusts his hips upwards.

Your hips meet his pace, dropping down into his lap with every thrust. The tip of his cock hits your cervix every time and your pussy weeps around him. The sound of wet skin smacking, mixed with his and your moans, fills the room.  

The feeling of your cunt squeezing and clenching around him has his head swimming. He can’t believe he’s been depriving himself of this.

“Fuck Steve, you’re so – you’re so big.” You whine and Steve slams you down harder onto his length. Your thighs burn with every drop but you hardly feel it with the way his cock splits you open.

“Jesus Christ,” He moans. “You’re so perfect, baby. Like you were made for me. You were, huh? Made just for me,”

You nod feverishly against him, because you were. Just as he was made for you.

Your arms tighten around his neck. Your cunt flutters around him and when he pulls his head back to look down at where you’re joined, he’s awestruck at the unmistakable white ring around his cock you’ve caused.

“Fuck look at you, taking all of it like a good girl. The only one who can take it, right? Only one who can take it so good.”

You body shakes around him, but the confirmation that nobody could ever take him the way you could has you slamming down harder.

“Just me, baby. Only me.” You whimper. He groans, teeth sinking into the skin of your shoulder. He brings his thumb down to your clit, rubbing tight and fast circles against your swollen bud.

It builds fast and intense. You know he’s just as close as his breathing hitches, hips stuttering as he thrusts up into you.

“Cum for me, baby. Let me feel you soak me like a good girl.”

Your second orgasm hits you like a freight train. It’s blinding and all consuming. Your mouth drops open in a silent scream, your thighs convulsing around his hips. Your cunt clamps around his cock, pulsing hot and wet until you feel Steve’s thrusts falter and in seconds, his own cum is filling you from the inside out.

You’re finally able to suck in a breath as you come down from your high. Steve holds you tight to his chest, his sweaty skin sticking to your own. Your arms wrap tight around his shoulders as you feel his cock twitch inside you.

You’re both boneless and exhausted when he finally comes back down to reality too. He pulls his head back to look at your face.

Your makeup is a runny and smudged mess, your hair is tangled and frizzy, and your cheeks are flushed red but you’ve never looked more beautiful to him.

He covers your mouth with his own in a slow and deep kiss. There’s to rush or really any rhythm to it – just the desire to feel your mouth against his. When you pull away, he leans his forehead against your own. Your eyes blink tiredly but there’s a dopey smile on your face.

“Told you I could take it,” You whisper.

Steve rolls his eyes and snakes his arm around your waist, holding you tight as he flops backwards so his back hits the mattress. Your body bounces on top of him and the movement has his cock stirring inside you again.

He uses his free hand to push a strand of hair out of your face. “Prove it.”

And you do.

All night long.

Leon's expression softens, his hand lightly squeezing your knee. “Nervous? What’s making you nervous?”

You feel your face flush. “You being all up in there,” you huff, and he chuckles, smoothing his palm down your shin, “and what if… I dunno… I taste bad?”

You cringe inwardly as soon as the words settle in the silence between you both, teeth biting down on the inside of your cheek.

“You won’t taste bad.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Well, I’m not doing it for the taste; I’m doing it because I want you to feel good, baby. Making you feel good makes me feel good.” He argues, tilting his head so he can meet your eyes with an annoyingly charming smile, “Besides, m’not expecting it to taste like birthday cake.”

You look at him, all shyly, watching as he drops a kiss to your knee, lingering. “You really wanna do it that much?”

“God, so fucking much, s’all I think about.” He groans playfully, propping his chin onto your kneecap. “But only if you want it too, s’no fun if you’re not into it.”

You shift a little against the cushions, giving him a tiny nod, heart hammering in your chest, “I want to, I do. can we just go slow?”

“Of course, you tell me if you wanna stop and we stop. No problem.” He promises, reaching out to gently tilt your chin towards him, “Yeah?”

“yeah.”

A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips, and he leans in to steal a quick kiss before sinking to the floor with a big, dopey smile, blue eyes gleaming with excitement. He settles between your legs, gently nudging your thighs open, and your breath catches in your chest, heat pooling in your tummy as he slides his big warm palms up to your hips.

“Scoot that ass forward a little, baby.”

You sink further back into the crease of the couch, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you watch him kiss the fat of your inner thighs before pulling back to shimmy your shorts down with a soft: “lift your hips f’me, baby. There we go.”

His blue eyes then flutter back up to you, hands squeezing your hips. “Ready?”

You nod your head, warmth rushing through your body.

“Words.”

“Yes, yeah, I’m ready. I’m good.”

“Good. Now let me see this pretty pussy.” He grins wolfishly, giving one last push of your legs to spread you open for him, your folds all slick from the earlier makeout session. “Fuck you’re dripping; you want my tongue all over your clit, hm?” He coos, hooking both your legs over his broad shoulders.

“God— yes, please-” you words break off into a whiny moan when he presses his face into your cunt, running his tongue through your plush folds and up to your pudgy clit. Your hands fly down to grasp his hair, hips tilting up into his mouth when he sucks on you, his hands massaging the fat of your thighs.

Leon hums at the taste of you, the sound muffled into your wetness as he runs his hot tongue over your sticky labia and back up your clit sloppily, practically making out with your pussy. “Mfmm, fuck— taste s’good,” he drawls out, already drunk on you and trying to press impossibly closer in between your thighs as you buck up into him, “that's it baby, fuck my face.”

You pant and whine above him, head tipping back against the couch as he slides the tip of his tongue over your fluttering hole, his nose nudging your clit. Your legs tingle, trembling over his big shoulders as he licks and kisses you closer and closer to your release.

“Leon, fuck— fuck m’so close… please.”

He hums in approval, pushing his tongue a little deeper to lick into your cunt with a rough moan. “Yeah? Rub your clit for me, baby. cum in my mouth… c’mon,” he begs, tongue-fucking your tight hole as your hand fumbles between your legs, rubbing circles over your sensitive bud, and it doesn’t take long until you're gushing all over his mouth, your cunt clenching around his tongue.

He pants heavily into your wet heat, pulling back just enough to look up at you— his lips and chin all shiny, covered in your arousal, resting his cheek against your thigh with a lopsided smile. “You taste amazing.” He murmurs, licking his lips with a chuckle as you roll your eyes at him with a soft laugh.

“Shut up.”

“Just like birthday cake.”

“Shut up.” you tell him again, giggling as he peppers soft kisses over the swell of your hips before letting him convince you to do it all over again.

જ⁀➴ Resident Evil Masterlist જ⁀➴ General Masterlist

You don’t really care what you’re seeing. You’d planned on taking a nap through it anyway since the three of you luckily found a theater with the more comfortable reclining seats. As you walk into the lobby, the scent of popcorn hits you like a wall, and your stomach involuntarily growls. It’d been a little bit since you’d eaten, and you’re relieved to hear Sam’s do the same.

“Wanna split with me?”

He looks down at his feet with a smile, “you heard that?”

“We didn’t get around to lunch today,” you laugh, “we were a bit busy.”

“Just a tad,” he laughs back. “Wanna drink, too?”

“Yeah, I do,” you step into the concessions line and turn to see Dean at the bar. He’d found a pretty girl, and now you know he wouldn’t be joining the two of you like you’d planned. “Check out your brother.”

Sam groans when he sees that. “Typical Dean. Think they’re gonna make out next to us the whole movie?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” you sigh, “he’s telling her there’s an extra open seat next to him right now, I bet.”

The taller man sighs and steps forward, “should’ve guessed he’d do this. How does he always find the lonely girl at a movie theater? It’s gotta be a weird superpower.”

You laugh, “the most useless power. How often have you guys stopped through a theater in the past few years?”

“This may be the third time in fifteen years.” Sam scoffs, “I do kinda miss the popcorn.”

“Me too. It’s been a long time since I had a spare few hours.”

Sam steps to the counter and orders the popcorn and two drinks. You pick up a couple packets of candy and set them down in front of the cashier.

“You can’t go to the movies without candy, Sam.”

“You two are adorable,” the teen says as they scan the two packages, “remind me of my boyfriend and I. How long have you been together?”

He answers for you, “oh, we’re… we’re not together.”

“Just friends,” you back him up, forcing a small smile. You’d been carrying a torch for Sam for a couple years, but hunters don’t have time to date. The teen sputters out an apology and steps away to grab the popcorn and empty cups.

He’s silent as he pours the butter onto the popcorn, and silent again as he fills his cup up. You hand him a straw and he smiles softly. You follow him to the seats, and shortly after, Dean’s walking hand-in-hand with the girl from the bar.

Each seat is coupled together with another, the middle arm rest lifting up so dates could cuddle close. You get to your seat, sliding down next to Sam. Dean and his mystery woman barely wait for the previews to start or for the lights to dim before starting to make out. You turn slightly so you have a shoulder to them.

“Do you mind if I put this up? We can put the popcorn down more sturdy if we do that,” Sam asks as he grips the arm rest. You nod, letting him move it.

You jab a thumb towards your shoulder, “new record?”

“Gross,” he sighs, “sorry about him.”

“I’m used to it by now.”

About halfway through the movie, you blindly go to grab a handful of popcorn at the same time Sam does. Your hands bump and you jump slightly. The movie was more engrossing than you had thought it’d be. With the glow of the screen, you see him blush a bit.

The second time your hands bump, it felt less like an accident. And the third, you know he did it on purpose. You pick up the popcorn and move it away from its spot, taking Sam’s hand. He seems to melt a little at the contact and you scoot a little closer. 

His arm moves from next to you to around your shoulders, and you curl into his solid side. He’s warm and his heart rate is picking up as you get comfortable against him. As the lead man in the movie grabs the damsel in distress, you cast a glance at Sam, looking away when he looks back at you.

“I’ve got you,” the man onscreen says, echoing Sam’s words after you get an injury in a hunt, “you’re safe now.”

The woman on the screen reaches up to his face, brushing a thumb on his cheekbone. “You’re always there. Every time I need you.”

The characters kiss and you look back to Sam once more, studying his profile in the blue-ish glow. He pulls you closer before looking back down at you. “They look a little like us, huh?”

You nod, “they do.”

His gaze drops to your lips, and then flicks back to your eyes. You tilt your head just slightly and let him close the distance. The rest of the world became a blur, you were kissing Sam, and that’s all that mattered. His lips are softer than you would have thought, more sure, and more give. His lips are salty from the popcorn and the faint taste of the diet cola hits you, too.

When he breaks away, you chase his lips for a few centimeters, wishing he hadn’t. He smirks a little before he leans back in, grabbing your face and kissing a little more urgently. Then, sliding his tongue into your mouth, a lot more urgently. 

“Sam,” you whimper as he pulls away again, “you’re always here for me and…”

“I like you.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth,” you grin at him. He leans back in to kiss you again. And again. And again. When the lights come up in the theater, you didn’t even realize the movie had been over. You pull away from each other and you’re almost embarrassed by the string of saliva that connects your mouth. He wipes his mouth as you quickly do the same.

he nods his head slowly, still unsure of where this is going to go. “of course, yeah, go ahead sweetheart.”

you take a deep breath, fiddling with your skirt between your fingers. “i…i had a huge crush on you back then, like massive. and well, i can’t really say the crush ever went away but when we were like 16 it was super bad.”

steve smiles softly, “i wish i actually paid attention to you back then…”

a blush burns on your face, “well…let me finish before you say that…” you were getting really embarrassed about what you were going to say.

he nods, his mouth shut, he was so painfully perfect….

“i would fantasize about you being my first, like you’d have me in my little skirts i used to wear and humping your thigh, e-except i’d be humping my pillow pretending…but uh yeah…” you couldn’t look at him, after the words left your mouth you instantly regretted it.

steve sat there, flabbergasted, a blush moving from his neck to his cheeks as he slowly exhaled the breath he had been holding. “w-wow…now i really wish i knew you back then.” chuckling softly to himself as he ran a hand through his hair.

you whip your head around to look at him, “w-wait that’s hot?”

he laughed harder now, still nervously running a hand through his hair. “are you kidding?? you all sweet and nerdy, getting that worked up over me? wanting me to…be your first…thinking about rutting yourself on my thigh in your pretty little skirt…” his fingers gently feeling the material of the skirt you had on, you swore your heart was pounding in your ears. “why don’t you show me huh?”

you blink slowly, head cocked to the side. “now??”

steve spreads his legs out, patting his thigh. “right here baby, let’s just pretend huh? i won’t touch you until you get off on my thigh…i’ll be big bad mean stevie again for you princess.”

your whole face turns crimson, your lungs feel like the wind got knocked out of them. you nod, slowly moving from the couch to his thigh, straddling his leg, and then you start to slowly rock yourself. your hands hold tight on to his shoulders, his hands stay on your waist as you rock back and forth on his thigh. “o-ohhhh” you whine softly, your poor clit was already swollen just from talking about those memories, it was entirely different actually living this fantasy out.

“aren’t you a good little girl huh? good little girls get off on king steve’s leg like a horny little puppy huh??” he coos, hand moving from your waist to your hair, gently gathering your hair and pushing it behind your shoulders.

“mmhmmm…” you hum, rocking a little faster. you can feel the arousal oozing out of your slit, gathering in the thin cotton probably smearing all over his pants.

the most steve does to help you is bounce his leg, other than that his hands stay on your waist, fingers pressing into your soft sides. “ya want more baby? want me my fingers between those pretty thighs?” he whispers in your ear. you throw your head back, whining a loud, “yes!!”