cw: fingering, male sub, humping, innocent!art, slight religious themes, reader is very sexual and art is very virgin, art thinks of Patrick while with you which could mean nothing. Took inspiration from @artdcnaldson and her virgin!art au.
NSFW under the cut
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
I love innocent!art I DONT CARE IF ITS CANON
Art had never touched a girl like this before. He’d kissed them, and sometimes they’d touch him through his shorts, but he was always too nervous to go further. From the way Patrick talked about it, he didn’t know if he was prepared. He doesn’t know how to be assertive or dominant. He likes to be sweet, he likes to be.. taken care of.
Of course, he’s watched porn. He’s seen the girls who step on guys and spank them and make fun of them, but that’s just porn. And he’s honestly not sure he wants that either. He just wants to make whoever he’s with feel good, and he.. hasn’t exactly learned how to do that.
But you.. you showed him a whole new world. You were like some sort of sex goddess.. you just knew how to take care of him. You knew exactly what he was thinking— you let him just.. explore you. You were perfect.
He’d liked you for a while now, and you weren’t exactly shy about how you wanted him. So one night, you finally got him into your apartment. It took some puppy dog eyes, but at the end of the day, he couldn’t resist.
Just as he feared, you’re immediately on top of him, kissing him with such.. need. He’s never felt that before. Most girls are always hesitant.. more slow, cautious movements. You just immediately took over, and that made the blood rush straight from one head to the other. He felt lightheaded, and your lipgloss was so sticky and you smelled so good.. he was overwhelmed and fidgety, you could sense his nervousness from a mile away.
“…are you a virgin?” He hears you mutter against his lips. He pulls away slightly as he watches an almost wicked grin grow on your previously sweet looking lips. He blinks a few times at the question. What does he say to that? It’s embarrassing. You know the answer by how he flushes from the tips of his ears down his neck, and somehow, your smile only grows.
He sees how you slightly bite your lip. He can’t help but think you’re a little too excited by the idea of him being a virgin— the look on your face reminds him of how Patrick looked when he found out Art had never jerked off. The face of someone who was about to change his life.
“have you ever touched a girl before?” You ask sweetly, softly. There’s an almost motherly tone to your voice, and it makes his head all fuzzy. He shakes his head after a moment, stuttering out a small “no” as he bats his long eyelashes up at you. He’s so hard it hurts, and all he can focus on his how you’re pressing against him while straddling his lap. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, so they just rest at his sides. He wants to touch you, feel you, worship you.. but that’d be too much, right?
He feels your hand touch his own. God, they’re probably all gross and clammy. Now that’s all he can think about. He’s about to start a small apology for his nervous state when he feels his fingers press against something warm and wet. His eyes flit to where his arm leads and he sees his hand underneath your skirt. “You want me to—“ he asks, seeming almost concerned. But when he looks up, you just.. nod. So simply, without a care in the world. And suddenly, he can’t remember why he was so nervous. You’re here..you’ll teach him. You’ll take over where Patrick left off.
He feels around and stops when he hears you make a small noise “was that bad?” He asks ashamedly, but regains his little dignity when you frantically shake your head. He furrows his brow slightly when you tell him to keep doing it, but does as you ask. You’re the expert.
He runs his slender fingers over the raised area over and over and over, eyes trained on your face as he watches you lose your composure. “Inside— put them inside.” You say as you hold back a small moan and he nods, searching eagerly for your entrance. He runs his fingers over the slick skin and finds it rather quickly, slowly inserting his middle finger. He moans at the feeling just as you do— it’s so pleasant inside of you. It’s soft and warm, and so.. close, you’re constricting around his finger like you never want it to leave.
He begins to feel around there, too. Pressing against a particularly squishy spot that piques his interest as you grind on his palm and his lap. He feels himself getting more and more warm, and he feels an all too familiar knot building in his stomach.
Guilt creeps in as he gets closer and closer to orgasm. You haven’t even touched him and he’s about to soil his boxers. How pathetic. Not to mention all he can look at is how hot you look like this. Flushed cheeks, kiss-bitten lips, your boobs in his face. There’s a soft light coming from your desk lamp that shines through your messy hair, and he swears that you’re a god, or an angel.. or something. You can’t feel this good, and look that way, and be.. a person. People have flaws, but you’re just.. perfect.
Your moans get more frequent and loud, so much that he can now hear you over his own whimpers and whines. He wants to tell you to stop, to avoid the humiliation of cumming in his pants. But you feel too good, and he can’t resist the thought of cumming with you. It’s like an obsession now, it keeps replaying in his brain and he has to have it be his reality.
He hears you chant his name and give him a quick warning of your impending orgasm before planting your lips back on his. He whines into your mouth as he tips over the edge and you groan as you do the same. You’re humping against eachother like dogs in heat, and there’s something so beautiful about how you made eachother feel so much with so little.
As you come down, he’s still humping against you, despite the encroaching overstimulation. He wants to feel you as much as possible. You smile “does that feel good?” You ask in that motherly tone, regaining your composure with impressive ease, and he stops like a child with his hand in the cookie jar. He flushes and mutters soft apologies into your shoulder, letting out a pathetic whimper when you tell him to keep going.
He learns a lot that night..