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leviethinsaint · 13 days ago

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𝚄𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚑𝚊 𝙸𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚒 - 𝚂𝚎𝚡 𝙴𝚍

𝕎𝕀𝕊ℙ𝕊𝕀𝕄ℙ𝕊

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ft Uchiha Sasuke + other spectators(Uchiha Council; just slightly more in the bg); ft Demonstration, fingering, nipple play, creampie

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: I do not own Naruto or its characters, all credit goes to its creators and actors

WC: 3,041

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: Includes stepbrother/stepsister pseudo incest (x2, technically since Sasuke is only watching), and underage(15, 17), Use of “Onii-chan” and “Nii-san”, Use of Y/n, 3rd Person POV, obligatory exhibitionism/public sex warning (Series Warning)

𝔐𝔦𝔫𝔦 𝔑𝔬𝔱𝔢: Obviously, this one takes place in an AU where the Uchiha Massacre didn’t happen lol,,, Imma be honest, I’m not super happy with this one ;-; I’m sorry if you’re one of the people who’s been waiting for this one specifically and also aren’t super satisfied with it. I legit such bad writer’s block with this one,, like,, not even halfway through,, but I eventually got a second wind! The ending isn’t quite my favourite but it’s the best I could come up with when more writer’s block started creeping up on me ;-; Please don’t hate me, lovelies ;-;

【Ｍａｓｔｅｒｌｉｓｔ】

— — —

“Sasuke, are you watching me?” Itachi asked his little brother, their stepsister pressed into his chest with his arms around her waist, both reaching down between her legs. The eldest Uchiha son used one hand to hold her leg open, his other one slowly stroking over her folds. He got a vacant nod from the second son as his eyes stayed glued to his little stepsister’s cunt.

She trembled in his hold at his fingers lightly dipping into her entrance each time they pass over it in their strokes. She whined at Itachi for not giving her what she needed which only made him chuckle.

“Don’t be so impatient, princess, Sasuke needs to learn how to properly take care of a woman. You want to help your Onii-chans, don’t you?” She whined but nodded anyways and did her best to stay more still for her Nii-san. He decided to reward her good behavior and he finally dipped his fingers fully into her fluttering hole.

She cried out in relieved pleasure and did her best to contain her back arching against her Nii-san. Smirking at her obedience, Itachi moved his finger in and out of her slowly, but just enough to keep her sated.

“This whole thing is her Vulva,” Itachi slid his fingers out of her and slowly dragged his fingers through her folds to spread her until his hand framed her spread-out pussy. Sasuke didn’t seem fully engrossed in what his older brother was actually saying but he sure as hell was paying full attention to the visuals. Even so, he nodded in acknowledgment, urging his brother to continue.

“These,” he moved his fingers to stroke his fore and middle fingers over her outer lips, “are her Labia Majora.” She quivered at her Nii-san’s touch and mewled pathetically. “Her Labia Minora.” He moved to slide through her inner lips before he spread her open once again. This time, though, he moved his other hand up her thigh to join it. “This is her Vagina, well the opening anyway.” He shrugged lazily as his fingers deftly gathered her slick as he circled her entrance teasingly.

“It’s where we go in.” He prodded her pussy hole slowly. “Where we slide out.” He dragged his finger out, torturously slow. “And repeat.” He did just as stated and moved his hand back and forth to slowly fuck her on his single digit before he slid out. With her slick coating his fingers, he slid them up her still-spread cunny to his next target.

“This is the Clitoral Hood.” He teased at the loose skin and shifted it back and forth, making it harder and harder to stay still but she did her best. Y/n did her best just for her Onii-chans. “It covers her Clitoris until she’s aroused.” He pulled the hood back fully with his index finger and circled her little clitty with loose slow circles and made her jolt and moan lewdly against him. That earned her a light slap to her clit which got a sharp jolt and yelp and made her go rigid, a silent demand to obey him. He continued his ministrations after he gave her a soft kiss on the cheek and soothing strokes around her cunny.

“This is her Clit.” Her Nii-san said, looking back to Sasuke to make sure he understood. His eyes were blown wide and his hand was just itching to reach for his bulge straining in his pants. His eyes flicked to her face at her whimpering and small mewls.

“Now that you know what’s what. Time to show you what to do with it.” Itachi spoke teasingly, shifting his hold on his little Stepsister to move her to a laying position. Initially, she whined at the loss but soon enough when he slotted himself between her legs she was happy enough once again. “Make sure you watch closely, Sasuke,” Itachi instructed his brother who nodded eagerly, excited to watch his elder brother ruin his little stepsister.

“‘tachi.. Please…” Y/n whined, circling her hips against nothing as Itachi had yet to meet her hips.

“Patience, Imouto-chan, I need to teach Sasuke to please a woman. Don’t you want to make sure he can please a woman? Please you?” He asked, a brow quirked with sensually low lids. She nodded when she realized she wouldn’t be able to say anything lest it came out as a needy whine. “Good girl.” He smiled, running his hands delicately down her body, brushing the bottoms of her breasts until he stroked the front of her hips.

He moved his hands to his own hips and shimmied out of his pants, the position the only thing making it slightly harder. He managed to remove his pants and slotted himself further up between her thighs, his hips then flush against her ass. His cock stood firm and tall and resting against her cunny. She lowly moaned at the contact and barely resisted the urge to grind against him to finally get the friction she craved from her Nii-san’s cock.

Itachi chuckled when he saw how close she was to giving in to her urge and stroked his thumb over her hip in comforting praise. Glancing over, he saw that Sasuke was just as enamored as he’d hoped and took that as his cue to begin. Y/n released a high-pitched, drawn-out moan as her Nii-san dragged his dick across her folds, slicking up the underside of it. The eldest Uchiha son suppressed a groan at the feeling of her soft, dripping pussy against his cock and continued on. He rocked his hips against hers until he was properly lathered in her slick.

He pulled back until his tip was stationed right at her entrance where he lingered until his little stepsister whined and wiggled her hips. With a possessive noise from the back of his throat, he leaned forward, pushing his cock inside as he leaned over her, pinning her wrists to the tatami mats. He shivered as he kept in a satisfied, territorial groan as he looked into her eyes.

“Fuuhh- ‘tachi.. Nii-san… Please..” She begged with hazy eyes looking back at his own. He couldn’t resist any longer and pulled his hips back to push back in, fast enough to sate them both but slowly enough to make sure Sasuke could see. Itachi glanced at the younger boy again and smirked when he saw he had pulled his cock out and began to pump himself. Looked past him, he looked to the council to make sure they approved. Fugaku nodded at his son for the rest of the council and it was enough to spur him on.

He grinned with satisfaction and turned his attention back to his stepsister who was writhing and moaning beneath him. Itachi leaned down to capture her lips in a heated, sloppy kiss and he slid his hands down her arms to her chest. He groped her tits and thumbed at her nipples and he mewled loudly into the kiss. With a firm squeeze, he parted from her, both his lips and his hands as he sat back and moved his grip back to her waist.

“Sasuke,” Itachi called to the boy.

“Yes?” He strained but brought his attention to his brother.

“There are multiple ways to please a woman. There are multiple ways to please her with sex as well.” He looked over to his brother and he saw the boy’s eyes wide in interest.

“Really?”

“Yes, one such way is with different positions. Each position provides different stimuli. In each, you can add onto it in different ways. Like here,” Itachi stated, turning his gaze back to the girl beneath him, “I can play with her breasts and her nipples like this.” He did just as stated and grabbed her tits again, squeezing them and squishing them, and he toyed with her nipples and made her moan out in ecstasy. His hips never faltered their movements in his demonstration.

Sasuke watched on in wonderment and watched his big brother’s cock disappear inside of his little stepsister’s cunny lewdly. He was shocked out of his stupor when Itachi started to lean down once again. Though, instead of dipping down to her lips, he goes further and licks one of her nipples. Sasuke’s eyes snapped to her face when she let out a sharp cry of pleasure.

“You can put your mouth on her. Just. Like. This.” Itachi punctuated his words with kisses around his Imouto’s breast before he took her nipple into his mouth and flicked his tongue against the bud. Itachi figured that Sasuke had gotten the point by then and pulled back again and slid his hands into a grip around her waist. He sat back and hoisted her up into his lap, sitting sideways so Sasuke could still see what he was doing.

“You need to pay attention to her reactions, Sasuke. Watch how she jolts,” he reached up and pinched her nipple, making her jump, “how she sighs,” he leaned in and pressed lingering open-mouthed kisses against her neck, making her release a breath of pleasure, “how she moans,” he rolled his hips up into her as she released a wanton moan, “how she cries.” He growled out and slid his hand between their bodies and runs at her clit making her cry out in ecstasy. Y/n heard a shaky breath escape her Onii-chan and she let her eyes wander over to him. Her walls clenched around her Nii-san’s cock at the sight of Sasuke pumping his dick to the sight of her getting fucked.

She moaned loudly once again when Itachi bucked his hips up harshly. He moved his hand to rest on her waist with his thumb still over her clit, his other moving back to her waist to help her move on his dick. Up and down. Up and down. Her hands flew to his shoulders for stability when she started to shake. He flicked his thumb over her clitty while he had her bounce on his length.

“You’re doing well, princess.” He muttered against her neck as he kissed up the expanse of skin and to her lips. He swallowed up all her high-pitched whines and moans as he kept her hips moving and his thumb on her clit, though he had slightly relented on the assault. Sasuke and the Council watched on as Itachi fucked up into his little sister’s cunt and helped her bounce on his cock.

Remembering he was meant to be teaching Sasuke and not simply fucking his little stepsister— like he had been wanting to since nearly the first day she’d arrived— Itachi laid back and kept her riding him. His hands grasped her bouncing tits and squeezed them pleasurably and made her moan. Sasuke was entirely captivated by watching his little Imouto desperately riding their elder brother to get her release and the way she reacted to every one of his movements.

Her hands planted themselves on his stomach and she leaned forward enough to easily bounce herself on her Nii-san’s cock. She had let her eyes fall closed as she lost herself in the pleasure but then she reopened them when a jolt of pleasure shot through her. Her Nii-san’s big cock hit the perfect spot inside her dead on. She released a lewd moan that would be right at home in the red-light district.

Her walls fluttered around him and he groaned lowly at the feeling, instinctively bucking his hips up. With a quick glance at the Council, he saw a couple raised brows at his movements but they stayed silent since it didn’t hinder the demonstration for the youngest son of the head family.

“Sasuke..” Itachi grunted, gaining a bit of his younger brother’s attention, “You always want to make sure that she cums first, okay?“ He panted out, feeling her walls flutter and clench around his cock as she bounced on him. His little stepsister whined about how good he felt and that seemed to be enough, for the moment at least, for the Council to nod in approval. Itachi was doing a well enough job demonstrating how to properly breed a prime candidate for the next heir as well as how to please a future wife for the younger Uchiha heir.

Sasuke was enraptured with the sight in front of him and watched both his siblings’ motions and took a good interest in every one of his little sister’s reactions to each motion. He watched her face contort with pure ecstasy as his older brother’s cock was swallowed up by his stepsister’s tight little cunny. Her juicy cunt that was stretched so wide over her Nii-san’s dick and left a creamy ring at the base of his shaft each time she raised her hips. The slick sounds of his elder brother’s cock sliding in and out of her dripping cunt was almost enough to bring Sasuke to release just on their own as he continued to fuck his fist in time with his little sister’s hips crashing down on their brother.

Y/n’s moans became more high-pitched and closer together as she rapidly approached her orgasm. Seeing and feeling her reaching her end, her Nii-san couldn’t help but smirk proudly that his cock alone was more than enough to satisfy her. Deciding to reward her for being such a good girl for him, Itachi reached up and groped her bouncing breasts. He pinched her nipples and lightly rolled them between his fingers as he squeezed her chest with the rest of his fingers wrapped around the plump flesh.

“You feeling good, princess? You gonna cum?” Itachi teased her, knowing full well she was fucked dumb enough that she wouldn’t be able to properly respond to him. As he predicted, the most she had managed was an erratic nod and a whine vaguely in the form of an affirmative. ‘Enough of a response from my good dumb girl.’

“Fuck…” Sasuke could see just how fucked out his little Imouto was and it aroused him even more that someone could be that blissed out. Y/n vaguely registered her Onii-chan’s voice and looked through hazy eyes at him and moaned wantonly at the sight of his pretty red cock head leaking pre-cum like a faucet. The sensation of her Nii-san’s cock pressing into every pleasure point inside her and crashing into her cervix over again as he played with her tits and toyed with her sensitive nipples combined with seeing her Onii-chan pumping his cock to her being fucked into oblivion all filled her with such intense, unimaginable pleasure. The wave of ecstasy crashed down on her and forced her over the edge and tumbling into a mind-numbing, toe-curling, back-arching orgasm.

Her fluids squirted out and over her Nii-san’s cock and hips and dripped in rivulets down her thighs. Her cunny convulsed and spasmed around Itachi’s dick and squeezed him tighter than he’d ever imagined possible. Just the feeling of her clamping down so damn tight was nearly enough to milk his orgasm right out of him but he held out. Itachi released her tits and slid his hands down her body to her hips and gripped them tightly. With a firm grip on his little stepsister, he jerked his hips up to bury his length inside her yet again. And again. And again. He fucked up into her and relished in her loud moans and pleas for reprieve from overstimulation.

“C’mon, princess, be a good girl and take me, take my cum inside you. Be my good girl and let me cum in this pretty pussy.” Itachi murmured to his Imouto, his words slurred with pleasure. Like the good girl she was, she nodded— though her whines and cries of overstimulation kept flowing from her throat —and let her Nii-san use her spasming and twitching cunt to reach his climax. And reach it, he did, soon enough. Finally, he slammed her hips flush to his and kept her still as his cum filled her womb. The warmth that flooded her insides brought her to a second orgasm and her body twitched for a few moments as the rest of her strength left her and she collapsed forward onto Itachi’s chest, her head tucked into his shoulder, under his chin.

Itachi pressed a sweet kiss to her temple as she lay boneless against him. He looked to the side and saw Sasuke also sitting, spent beside them, cum splattered on his stomach and chest as he heaved for breath. Itachi lightly ran his hand carefully over her back and his other rubbed a small, soothing massage on her hips and lower back for any pain that would appear. She panted heavily against him and curled into him for comfort after such an intense ordeal.

“Well done, Itachi. You have succeeded in your task. Now we will allow you rest. Clean cloths and water will be brought to you shortly. Sasuke. Once you recover, you are to return to the main house to report to the Uchiha Head. He will be awaiting your arrival.” The Council Head spoke and he and the rest of the group shuffled out of the ceremony hall.

“Good job, Sasuke. Let’s hope you actually retained the information.” Itachi teased and breathlessly chuckled at the face his brother pulled. As Sasuke recovered and prepared himself to report to their father, Itachi moved a hand to stroke his little stepsister’s hair. She lazily raised her head to silently bid her Onii-chan farewell as he dragged himself out the door. Itachi smiled at her and guided her face to connect their lips once again. Without energy, their lips lazily and messily mingled with saliva sliding down their chins.

“You did very well, Imouto-chan. You’re a very good girl. My good girl.” Itachi spoke barely a hair's breadth away from his little sister’s lips. She crooned quietly at the praise and happily accepted another kiss from her big brother who had officially claimed her. Her womb overflowed with his seed and her skin was marked with his bites and bruises in the shape of his hands. His good girl tiredly nodded at him, her voice shot from how loudly he had drawn out her moans and cries.

— — —

𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥:

Crossed out if I can’t tag you for some reason!

@frosch-thefrog @hellsingalucard18

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leviethinsaint · 1 month ago

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playing games. lrh

pairing: luke hemmings x fem!reader

summary: it's so fun to tease luke, to rile him up and get him right where you want him. but actions come with consequences.

warnings: 18+ only. minors DNI. teasing, dirty talk, safe sane and consensual, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), shower sex, established relationship, light daddy kink.

words: 3,831

a/n: to the anon that requested this, i hope this is satisfactory. i literally could not stop thinking about it all of last night and today. so. here it is.

feedback and constructive criticism welcome. requests are open!

“Fuck, you’re driving me insane.”

The first words Luke has spoken to you in the last twenty minutes, since the two of you bid your friends goodbye at the restaurant. They’re spoken so low and strained that it warms your chest, heart fluttering when you hear your boyfriend’s uneven breaths echo the vehicle.

Only minutes away from home, you know the moment you’re both out of the car and heading inside he’ll be all over you. He hasn’t stopped staring at you all night, in particular the black dress that clings to your frame like second skin. Exposing just enough of your chest that someone tall, like him, has a rather perfect view. But his favorite, as you know, is the slit up your left thigh in the velvet fabric.

Your fingers toy with the lace trim, humming in hopes you’re maintaining a sense of obliviousness, while your dress hikes further up your thigh, exposing mouth-watering skin you know Luke just can’t resist.

He shifts in his seat, likely trying to relieve pressure, dick strained against the seam of his dress slacks. He’s never subtle about how hard he gets for you, or how quickly, but the less he speaks, the angrier he becomes. His silence is like a time bomb, and likely you won’t make it to the foyer before he’s buried inside of you.

But that isn’t what you’re aiming for. Not tonight. No, you want to draw it out. Your lips lift into a light smile, remembering when Luke had dropped his fork beneath the table and found your thighs splayed open, white lace doing almost nothing to conceal you. His nails scratched along the inside of your thigh, desperate, but ultimately restrained himself in favor of not looking like a sex-crazed idiot in front of your friends.

You want more of that. Being just out of Luke’s reach. Taunting him, speaking with sways of your hips and telling him just wait with your eyes. You want him to fiend for it, beg and beg while he’s right there on the edge so close to taking what he wants until you give him permission. The sex is always better when he’s desperate.

“I haven’t done anything.” You hum quietly, keeping your eyes trained out of the window as Luke makes a right turn into your neighborhood. It’s late, nearly eleven-thirty, which only makes your plan all the more enjoyable.

Luke scoffs. His knuckles remain white, clasped so tightly around the steering wheel that it makes your stomach pool with warmth. It’s thrilling to see him fighting it off, resisting the urge to fuck you in the car before you even make it inside. “You’re a terrible liar, Y/N.”

You let his words settle between you. Instead of a verbal response, you force out a yawn, followed by a sigh that sounds too whiny and moan-like. Luke shifts in his seat once again, before pulling into the driveway.

You’ve never seen him shift the vehicle into park so quickly, or remove the keys from the ignition. You maintain the sense of aloofness, slowly sliding out of the car and trekking towards the front door, Luke hot on your heels as you punch in the code for the electronic door lock.

Luke kicks his shoes off behind you, as your heels clack on the wooden floors. Phase one, light teasing in the car, complete. Now for phase two. You begin yawning once more, reaching to remove your earrings as you head towards the stairs to your bedroom. You hear Luke intake a sharp breath before ultimately following.

“Y/N,” He says around a harsh swallow, standing in the doorway of your room. You remove your jewelry, placing each necklace and ring in its rightful place on the vanity, briefly glancing at your boyfriend through the mirror.

He’s flushed, sober with a soft pink that blooms down his chest, shirt splayed open and desperation tight in his shoulders. He’s trying so hard, you can tell, the way his jaw locks and hands ball into fists at his sides. Luke’s playing nice, for now, but you decide phase two must continue.

“M’tired, Lu,” You say, but the tone of your voice isn’t convincing and he knows you’re bluffing. You turn to him, batting your dark, inky lashes, head tilted. “I just need a shower and some rest. Tonight was a lot.”

“You’ve been a tease all night,” He says, baby blues practically swallowed whole by his pupils. You can’t deny how exciting it is to see him like this, how poorly you know you’ll be walking tomorrow. It’s just too easy to rile him up, twist the little knob in his back and set him off like a toy. “And now you’re just—“

“I’m just what?” You press, a challenging brow raised. “What’s got you so riled up, Lu?”

“You—“ He narrows his eyes, though he doesn’t hide the way they snake down the length of your body. The curve of your breasts, the width of your hips, like a man starved of your touch his entire life. “I see right through you, you know.”

You tut softly. “What ever do you mean?” You taunt in a soft voice, plush lips pouted, reverting your eyes from Luke’s reflection. “Would you mind unzipping my dress, baby?”

A low groan rumbles up his throat. “Of course,” He says, crossing the room in long strides before he’s grasping the zipper, breath warm against the back of your neck with every inch it’s undone. Goosebumps prickle the exposed skin, and Luke’s hand rests at the base of your spine. You can tell he’s fighting it, you don’t even have to look at him to know he’s practically drooling. “You’re really going to shower?” There’s a tilt of disbelief in his voice.

“Mhm,” You hum, turning gently, careful to avoid stepping on Luke’s sock-covered feet with your heels. Want flashes across his face, fingers obviously dying to brush the straps from your shoulders, to expose you, consume every dip and curve of you. “You’ll be a good boy and wait, won’t you?”

Luke’s eyes briefly flutter closed. He’s almost there. You have him right in the palm of your hand, shaking him and rattling him and he’s so close to going off. To taking you the way you want him to. Time for phase three.

“Good,” Despite not agreeing with your prior statement, you pat Luke’s chest softly, his eyes dark when they blink open. You muster up your sweetest smile, stepping around him, heels clicking tauntingly on the wooden floors as you sway towards the en-suite bathroom. “You know..” You trail off when you cross the threshold, flicking on the lights and turning on the shower.

Luke hasn’t moved. He can barely see you from where he’s still standing, painfully hard and holding on to your every word. “What?” He asks in a rasp.

“It’s such a shame,” You approach the threshold once again. “I really thought you liked this dress.”

“I do,” Luke answers quickly. “Of course I fucking do, Y/N.”

“Then why am I the one taking it off?” You tilt your head, finding yourself wanting to smile at the visible confusion on Luke’s face before running the tips of your fingers across your shoulders, the straps falling, top half of the dress pooling at your waist. Breasts bare. You swear Luke stops breathing.

Why stop now? You figure it’s best to keep going, push him until he breaks. Hooking your thumbs through the material, you slide the velvet fabric down until it meets the floor. Carefully, you step out of it, curling the toe of your heel beneath it. In an instant, you kick the dress, watching as it flies and falls into a lump by Luke’s feet.

Luke throws his head back, Adam’s apple visibly strained in his throat as he attempts to swallow. “You fucking tease.” He reiterates, something akin to a growl escaping through his clenched teeth.

“Can’t let the water run cold,” You say, head tilted, before turning back into the bathroom.

Luke’s hands are on you in an instant.

Heavy, warm hands clasping your hips, halting you and drawing your nearly bare body until your back is flush with his clothed chest. “You fucking minx,” He utters into the skin of your shoulder, breathy and warm. “It’s all games to you, isn’t it? Getting me all out of sorts for a bit of fun.”

You reach behind you, hand finding the curls nestled at the nape of Luke’s neck, holding them tightly between your fingers. “Of course it is, baby,” You tell him. “I like you like this. You always fuck me just like I need.”

“Oh, is that so?” Luke presses a soft kiss to the juncture of your neck. You lax against him, feeling his arousal press into your backside. “I love when you act like you’re in charge.”

“Well if you’d get a move on maybe I wouldn’t have to.”

Luke’s fingernails dig into your skin, eliciting a soft hiss from you. “You know what I want, Y/N?” He asks. “I want to see my cock down your throat. Been thinkin’ about you on your knees in those pretty heels all night, baby.”

Your breath falters, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Luke’s teeth graze and threaten to sink into your shoulder, but you feel him push you away. “Think you can do that, pretty girl?”

You nod, not trusting your words. Luke guides you, between slow blinks and arousal stirring in your stomach, until his hand is in your hair and forcing your body down until your knees hit the floor. In nothing but a pair of lace underwear and a pair of slim, black heels, you peer up at him.

“C’mon, baby, can’t let the water run cold,” He echoes your earlier words, a slick, teasing smirk pulling at his lips. He uses his hold in your hair to bring your face closer to his slacks, cock oh so strained against the seam. Lips parted, you mouth along his clothed length happily. Tongue and all. “Fuck, you’re gonna be messy tonight, huh?”

Knowing how he’ll praise you, you fumble with Luke’s belt and fly, wasting no time pulling his slacks to the middle of his thighs. His cock springs free, hard and tip flushed red, precome dribbling down the head. You adore Luke’s cock, it’s so pretty, fitting for a man like him.

A low hiss leaves Luke’s mouth when you get a hand on him, guiding his slick tip past your lips and closing your mouth around him. Warm and velvety, just what he needs. He’s heavy and salty on your tongue. “We’re not playing games here, baby,” He says. “Let me tell you how this is going down before you get too dumb to listen.”

You moan around him.

Luke’s hips jerk. “Fuck,” He moans softly. “Gonna fuck your mouth, yeah? Gonna let me use you for a bit, baby. Get my cock all wet for you,” He pants softly as you slowly take him deeper. “Then, m’gonna fuck your sweet pussy until you’re sobbing. Begging me for more. That sound okay to you, baby?”

You glance up at him, sucking harshly, tongue running up the thick vein on the underside of his cock. “Good girl,” Luke hums. “Hands off.”

You let go of the base, but settle your palms on the tops of Luke’s thighs.

“I said hands off,” He tugs at your hair. It doesn’t faze you, not really, but tears threaten the corners of your eyes. “Don’t be a fucking brat, Y/N.”

You want it rough, though. Instead, you dig your fingernails into his skin, further proving the fact that you like this. Love it, really.

Luke thrusts his hips forward, tip of his cock nudging the back of your throat, spit dribbling from the corners of your mouth. “Oh, I see,” He tuts. “You’re still playing games.”

He’s relentless then, fucking your spit-slicked mouth, your nose brushing his lower stomach with every move of his hips. You’re utterly powerless, kneeling on the bathroom floor while he takes what he deserves from you. Wetness pools between your thighs, no doubt soaking the already damp fabric of your lace underwear.

He releases you suddenly, brain fuzzy and scalp sore, stepping away from you and stripping his slacks down his legs. “Get up,” Luke instructs, unbuttoning the dark shirt stretched across his shoulders. “Take those stupid fucking panties off. Heels too.”

When you don’t move, Luke grabs you beneath the arms and hauls you to your feet. You fight the urge to smile. “Why are you still trying to play, Y/N? You like when I’m angry, huh? Is that it?”

Jesus, you’re soaked. It’s pathetic, the way your thighs feel sticky and warm.

“Fine. We’ll play your way.”

The flimsy lace is torn, then, by Luke’s quick hands. He notices how damp the fabric is, how sweet you smell, now that you’re fully exposed. “Fuck.”

“Get in the shower.”

“My heels—“

“Fucking keep them on. M’not waiting another second, need my cock in you yesterday,” Luke says through clenched teeth, all but pushing you towards the steam-filled glass shower. You’re careful to step inside, heels on the thinner side, but Luke, despite his lustful fury, remains aware. “C’mere.”

Luke guides your back to the tiled wall, warm from the water that fills the small cubicle, hand nestled beneath your thigh as his other hand reaches for your heat. Smooth and slick and warm, arousal practically drenching his fingers instantly. “My perfect girl,” He says in a breath. “My own little whore, huh?”

“Luke.” You rasp, feeling a finger slide effortlessly inside of you. You clench tightly, neck craned and hips arching towards him. Luke slides in a second. Curling and crooking so perfectly.

“That’s it, good girl,” Luke dips to mouth at your jaw, fingers working wonders inside of you. Messy, open-mouthed kisses to your skin, thumb finding your clit with ease and tracing taunting circles there. “M’fucking dying for it, baby. Wanna be inside you so bad.”

“Please,” You moan softly. “Please, so close-“

You feel it, Luke’s thumb speeding up, fingers pumping into you, a slick sound nearly missable with the shower blasting against Luke’s back. Your stomach tightens, toes tingle. You’re nearly there. Just a bit more pressure and—

Luke comes to a complete halt.

“You think I’d let you cum? Really?” A dark, low chuckle echoes the cubicle.

Your heart’s racing, skipping as Luke retracts his fingers and lifts his head, pushing the digits past his lips and curling his tongue around them. Savoring the taste of you. “Fuck, wish you weren’t being such a fucking brat. Would’ve laid you out on the bed, buried my face in that sweet cunt and ate you out until I couldn’t breathe.”

“Fuck me,” You plea. “Need your cock. Please, Luke.”

Luke arches a brow. “Oh, now you want to play good girl, huh?” His hold tightens on your thigh. Likely painting soft bruises with his fingertips you’ll find tomorrow and trace fondly. “Don’t worry, I’ll fuck you. I’ll fucking destroy you, angel. But if you even try to cum, you get nothing. Understood?”

You nod, a light sob stuck in your throat. You’re pulsing, soaked and dumb and warm all over — every inch of your body begging for Luke. “I said; Understood?”

“Yes— yes.”

Luke secures his hand beneath your thigh, lifting the other so that your legs wrap around his waist. You don’t think about your wet high heels, how your feet are going to be sore, or your torn underwear. All you can focus on is the head of Luke’s cock pressing against you before slowly, slowly burying himself inside fully.

“Oh my god,” You moan in relief. He fills you so well, stretches you so perfectly. Your hands grab at his shoulders, grounding yourself, and once Luke is buried to the hilt, his fingers thread through your hair. Arching your neck, claiming your lips and swallowing your soft moans as his hips rock tauntingly.

You don’t mean to, but your heels dig slightly into the small of Luke’s back. He hisses against your mouth, kissing you harder, tongue pushing between your lips as his hips withdraw only to rut back against you full-force.

Luke pulls away from the bruising kiss. “This is what you wanted, huh?” He asks, fucking his hips up at an honestly astonishing pace. It’s perfect, so so fucking perfect that your brain has been reduced to absolute mush. “All that talk just to end up braindead for a bit of cock, huh? You’re so easy for it, Y/N.”

Your nails dig into his skin. Pussy clenching around him, stuttering his hips as he refrains from letting go, fucking you with every amount of energy he can muster. One of your legs slip from his waist, making you positively cry out from the new angle. Luke doesn’t stop.

If anything, he fucks you harder. Using his hold on your hair to pull you down onto his cock, grip on your hip to push you up. Using you like a rag doll to get himself off. Your whines and pleas bounce off of the glass doors, a symphony in Luke’s ears.

You feel it again. The warmth. The twisting, fire igniting in your stomach. You’re absolutely drenching his cock with every pulse, every throb of your pussy wrapped so perfectly around him. Like a glove. Luke releases your hair in favor of grabbing hold of your throat, fingers just barely squeezing the sides.

“I know you’re fighting it,” He says, breath fanning across your jaw. “You wanna cum all over my cock, don’t you baby? God, I’d love it. Feeling your sweet cunt tighten around me, milking me,” You almost don’t register his words, fighting so so damn hard to keep yourself from finishing.

Luke’s a man of his word. If you cum, he’ll stop. And you’ll be forced to sit on the tiled floor and watch him get off alone. He won’t reward you by cumming on your chest or in your mouth, you won’t be that lucky. You can’t let that happen.

“Don’t be a bad girl, baby. Hold off for me. Let me cum inside and I’ll take good care of you, yeah?” He squeezes the sides of your throat three times. I. Love. You. A crack in his dominant demeanor, letting you know you’re okay, he’s got you. “That’s it, relax for me, angel. M’so close.”

The next minute is pure agony. It’s harder than you thought, when one simple brush of Luke’s stomach could barely reach your clit and have your stomach fluttering. A simple blow of breath could send you falling to your knees right now, nevermind the quick, deep thrusts of Luke’s hips chasing his orgasm. “Fuck, baby. God, feel so good on my cock. Doin’ so good. Gonna fill that pretty pussy.”

“Daddy.”

You don’t know why you say it. It comes out broken and pathetic and rasped, desperate as you claw at Luke’s shoulders while he buries himself fully, breaths broken alongside moans and chest heaving as he releases inside of you.

Luke’s hand slowly lets go of your neck, trailing down between the valley of your breasts, over your stomach and ghosting his fingertips over your clit. “Don’t move,” He says between puffs of air. He reaches behind, unhooking the smaller showerhead and your eyes widen. Oh fuck.

Eyes dark, chest flushed and cock still hard and buried fully inside, Luke fumbles with the controls of the showerhead until the water comes out in one heavy, single stream. “Gonna sit and warm daddy’s cock, yeah? While I make you feel good?”

“Jesus, fuck,” You shiver as Luke runs the pulsing stream along your thigh, teasing, and a long, drawn out whimper escapes you when he aims it towards your clit. “Fucking— Luke!”

“Oh come on, baby, you can say it,” Luke’s voice trembles slightly, likely some of the pulsing water affecting him too. Your thighs tremble, heel digging against Luke’s back as your hips arch off of the tiled wall. “Tell daddy how good it feels, baby. You’re fucking shaking. Fuck, you feel good.”

“So— fuck— so fucking good, daddy,” You hum brokenly. The combination of Luke’s cock buried sweetly inside you, cunt full of your boyfriend’s release, and the absurd pressure of the water is enough to tilt you over the edge with a full body shiver. Goosebumps and whines and teeth biting so harshly into your lower lip you taste blood. “Fuck.”

“That’s it,” Luke soothes, watching as your orgasm crashes over you in waves. You look utterly beautiful, chest covered in a thin sheen of sweat, skin flushed. “Such a good girl. Fucking hell.”

The force of your orgasm floods Luke’s cock, cum leaking down your thighs. Luke’s hips stutter, like he’s restraining himself. He pulls away the showerhead, letting it clatter to the floor before caging you in, one arm on the wall above your head, the other attached to your left breast.

“You’re beautiful,” He says, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Your cunt is fucking throbbing for me, angel.”

“Luke,” You whine, pathetically. Overstimulated, oversensitive. “Please.”

“Please what, baby? Want me to clean you up, huh?” He asks. “Bet you taste so sweet, full of my cum.”

Luke doesn’t give you the time to answer, instead pulling himself out of you, your legs quivering but he slides down to his knees and braces his forearm against your stomach. Your hands fly to his curls, a lifeline at this point, as Luke hooks one of your thighs over his shoulder and doesn’t waste a second licking a stripe across your heat

Full, slick and warm, both of your releases coating the insides of your thighs. Luke dives in like he hasn’t a second to lose, nose brushing against your clit, eyes fluttering closed as he laps every last remnant of your time spent together. You tremble beneath his touch.

When Luke reels back, staring up at you with hooded eyes, the love swarming in your chest is absolute insanity. The things you would do for this man. He’s utterly perfect.

And you may not walk tomorrow.

Carefully, Luke returns to his full height, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You alright, angel?”

“Mhm,” You hum, cheeks pink and chest rising and falling quickly. “Thank you.”

“Oh, don’t thank me yet,” He says, reaching to shut off the water. The constant rivulets dwindle to mere trickles in an instant. “I’m not done with you.”

“What?” You breathe out.

“You’ve been teasing me all night, only fair I get to do the same,” Luke grins crookedly, soft lips slick and bruised. “I wanna get you in front of that mirror in our room. Want you to watch when I fill that pretty cunt up again.”

Scratch that.

You absolutely will not be walking tomorrow.

246 notes · View notes

leviethinsaint · 1 month ago

Text

rules of the road. lrh

pairing: luke hemmings x fem!reader

summary: finally getting your driver's license after moving to the big city for college, you're a bit stunned by your dorky, charming driving instructor.

warnings: 18+ only. minors DNI. flirting/flustering, protected smut, praise kink, mommy kink, car sex, safe sane and consensual, explicit sexual content. (driving instructor! luke, racecar driver! luke)

words: 6,307

a/n: one beautiful evening, as i was driving home with a frosty from wendy's balanced in my lap, i saw a student driver vehicle and i was like! hm! what if... and then this kind of happened. i tried to keep a keen eye while editing but if there's an error, feel free to let me know! <3

feedback and constructive criticism welcome. requests are open!

You weren't a typically nervous person.

Growing up in a town where you practically had to just figure it out on your own, nothing really got under your skin. Not tractor maintenance nor harvest schedules, or that nasty little wasp's nest in the cattle barn in the spring.

But tests, those were a different story.

From college entrance exams to applying for your driver's license, those were the types of tests that made your heart race and your palms clam up. Because it was the unknown that bothered you so much. The unfamiliarity.

And, sprinkle in the fact that you'd left the family farm to pursue a college degree into the mix and every worry's been increased tenfold. As the baby of the family, first daughter behind a handful of rowdy, hard-working boys, being the first of your household to attend college was a serious milestone. You could only hope to make your parents and siblings proud.

But moving to the big city meant learning to drive. Well, legally. You've spent countless hours in your father's farm truck or your grandfather's tractor, you weren't necessarily inexperienced when it came to driving but you've never really been surrounded by other drivers. Just gravel roads and grassy two-tracks and your bothers dirt bikes.

The initial exam, a knowledge test about road signs and rules, wasn't too bad. They'd given you a practice test and a helpful guide booklet when you'd arrived at your appointment. It felt odd, being just barely twenty years old and taking a driver knowledge exam alongside kids barely pushing sixteen. You felt behind but it wasn't your fault.

Nerves didn't erupt in your stomach until the kind lady in the Secretary of State's office informed you that you'd be taking an on-road driver skills test. An instructor will watch you, quiz you, and grade you accordingly and if you fail, you can kiss your ability to drive legally goodbye until you pass.

Now that makes you nervous. Like there's ravenous butterflies swarming your stomach. You're already under a lot of pressure with fall classes starting soon and your part-time job, now you're worried about passing your driver's exam. The lady assured you there's nothing to fret over, that the instructor you've been assigned is well versed in the rules of the road and he's a total sweetheart.

Waiting in the parking lot wasn't the worst part. You were told he'd arrive shortly, a man named Mr. Hemmings, in one of the contracted company's instructing vehicles. Plastered with bright yellow stickers along the back, just shouting to everyone on the road that you're an inexperienced driver so take it easy.

Expecting some middle aged, married, grumpy man with nothing positive to say, the nerves weren't so bad as you basked in the moderate heat of the Michigan summer sun. Your phone pings a few times, a slew of good lucks and you've got this! from your family members. You don't even realize there's a stark white Toyota Camry pulling up to the curb until the scuff of shoes on the asphalt catches your attention.

"Y/N L/N?" A thick, low voice questions. A text message to your eldest brother sits unfinished beneath your thumbs, lips parting with shock. There's no bald patch or flat tire sticking out beneath his shirt, hell it barely looks like he's wearing a shirt at all because the white fabric is so snug and pulled taught over his abdomen and chest and arms that it's absolutely ludicrous. "Y/N?" he repeats.

"Yeah- yeah, that's me," You hesitantly stand, shoving your phone in the pocket of your jeans before brushing your now clammy hands along your thighs. His eyes flicker between the clipboard in his hand and you, shamelessly raking up and down your frame before clearing his throat.

"Great," His lips twist into a wide, toothy smile, shoulders seemingly relaxing at the confirmation. His stance laxes, nodding his head of bouncy, golden curls towards the vehicle that's idling behind him. "Why don't we go ahead and get started?"

You nod, swallowing the thick lump forming in your throat, hardly maintaining eye contact with the instructor as you climb into the driver's seat and watch him awkwardly fit himself into the seat beside you. "Okay," He blows out a breath. "I'm Mr. Hemmings but you can just call me Luke, it's easier and nobody likes saying a long name especially if you're in a panic."

You barely manage a short, clipped laugh. "Rad. Anyway, we're gonna be in here for the next hour or so. I'm mainly here to make sure you understand vehicle safety and that you're prepared to operate this beauty on your own," With a laugh, Mr. Hemmings taps the dashboard with his palm. "Well, not this beauty obviously, but you get my point. Oh! And I have break pedals over here just in case. I haven't used them yet this month so please don't put us in a situation where I might need to."

He's funny, you'll admit. In a dorky, charming kind of way. He hasn't stopped smiling the entire time and you're curious if he's just that way in general or if it's a front because he probably deals with some right idiots when it comes to being an instructor. "You're quiet."

"Sorry," You mumble, hands still folded in your lap. "I'm just a bit nervous."

"There's really no need," he assures you, turning in his seat with an excited smile. "If you've passed your vision and knowledge tests then this is like, a cakewalk. Have you driven before?"

"Yeah, back home," You tell him. "Mostly just old trucks, though. I don't think I've ever driven a proper car."

"Cool, car virgin. I like that," Luke turns his attention back to the clipboard, scribbling something that you're unable to make out because it's complete chicken scratch. "Well, why don't we get going so we can stay on track."

"Okay," You breathe out, clasping the seatbelt over your lap. Under your breath, you rattle off the first steps of safety before your hands ever touch the steering wheel. Seatbelt, check. Rearview mirror, check. Side mirrors, check. When everything seems as it should, you rest one hand on the wheel before shifting the vehicle into drive, peering out of the passenger's side mirror to ensure no cars are coming up behind you in the lot.

Luke stays silent, observing you, pen hovering over his checklist sheet. As you head towards the exit, you realize you have absolutely no clue where you're meant to go. "Uhh-"

"Take a left here," Luke tells you. Signaling, you check both ways for any oncoming traffic before exiting the parking lot, keeping an eye on the speed limit signs posted on the side of the road. "And at the next light, hang a right. We'll follow that through downtown and then get you on the highway for a bit."

Nodding, you try to keep yourself composed and not let the nerves get to you as you follow his instruction. You make sure to slow down appropriately as you cruise through the city's downtown area, briefly taking in the brick buildings and shops as you pass.

The vehicle's air is a little stiff, a little warm underneath the summer sun and you're considering asking Luke if he can turn the air on but he's too busy drumming his fingertips along his bare thigh to really pay you any mind. You'd always heard that driving instructors were very observant, overly cautious and very strict about everything but Luke's so laid back it's slowly beginning to relieve your nerves.

"Would you mind turning on the air?" Luke asks, eyes soft and kind when you glance over at him. You're just trekking along behind other vehicles, following signs for the highway that's still a few miles out. It's probably one of the things on his checklist, for you to tinker with something and hope it doesn't distract you enough to cause any accidents.

Glancing at the various knobs, luckily they're standard and simple, similar to your father's truck so pressing two buttons quickly has cool air flowing into the car. You feel a little more at ease, less of an iron grip on the steering wheel. "You're doing great, by the way." Luke chimes in.

"Thanks," You keep an eye on the Jeep that keeps randomly breaking in front of you, easing off of the accelerator when applicable. You weren't a newbie when it came to driving itself, just following the actual road laws and learning the flow of traffic. "I need to turn right up here?" You ask.

Luke hums with a nod. He's began muttering some tune under his breath along with his finger-drumming, as if he isn't remotely worried about you merging onto the highway. Picking up speed, you join alongside the few cars rumbling along the road. "We'll take this to the next town over, about thirty minutes, then we'll head back and do a few simple maneuvers and that's it."

You nod, fighting the urge to sigh. Who knew your road test would be so boring? There's no music, just the sound of your tires on the asphalt and Luke's low humming. "Why'd you decide to become an instructor? Isn't it- well, boring?"

A slow chuckle slips out of your instructor's mouth, elbow perched on the door, hand clasped against the side of his face. "It's not all boring, I swear. I just like helping people become confident drivers. You'd be surprised how many students I've had that are too terrified to even start the engine."

"You're pretty laid back, it's definitely making me less nervous," You laugh softly, keeping your eyes on the empty road. "Helps that you're not bad looking either."

Shit, you weren't meant to say that.

In your peripheral, you can see Luke squirm slightly in his seat, instantly worrying that you've made him uncomfortable. You're about to retract your statement and apologize but the grin that overtakes his pink lips stops you. "Thank you," he says honestly, his tone a little strained. "So are you. I mean, I wouldn't say not bad looking, you're pretty- like quite pretty- and okay, is it a little warm in here? Jeez."

You stifle a laugh at his nervous rambling. It's cute, kind of refreshing, too. But a weight settles in your stomach because no, you absolutely cannot think your driving instructor is cute. Doesn't that cross some kind of line? Break a rule? It has to. "So- are you uh.. getting your driver's license to.. drive to your boyfriend's house orr.."

Oh god, he's also pretty damn terrible at flirting. Normally, you'd find it cringey and a tad obnoxious but it's cute on him. Adorable, even, because he's definitely a handful of years older than you but he flusters so easily it makes your confidence soar.

There's nothing wrong with indulging in it, is there? It's not like you're gonna fuck him on the side of the highway or anything.

"No boyfriend," You keep a straight face, like you're intently focused on the billboards you pass by. "Or girlfriend." You tack on, just to see him flounder a little more.

"Oh- yeah, rad," Luke nods a few times. "That's- yeah, okay, cool."

God, he's so fucking cute. How'd you get so damn lucky to have him as an instructor?

Luke's tapping the window ledge aimlessly, almost looking uncomfortable but not with you, like something's gnawing at him. "Hey, can you pull off at this rest stop for a minute? I need to- uh- bathroom. Yeah."

"Sure." You signal off, slowing down as you near the small building, only a few cars scattered in the parking lot. Luke quickly unbuckles himself and slips out of the car, almost too fast for you to realize there's a tent in his shorts. Well, fuck.

You've never really been the hook-up type in the past, coming from such a small town there's slim pickings when you know everyone's faults. Only when your family would travel up to Mackinac Island or down to Kalamazoo to visit family would you end up fooling around with some local for an afternoon but that didn't happen very often.

Though the circumstances aren't ideal, there's obviously some kind of attraction on both sides. Probably just some silly short-term infatuation and who knows what's running through Luke's mind. But he's hot, there's no denying that, and guilt tugs at your chest because he's here to do a job and you're just being a massive distraction.

Luke returns about fifteen minutes later, a little flushed in the face but there's this look he's sporting that looks nothing short of pure bliss. You're not stupid, you can recognize a post-orgasm haze from a million miles away.

God, did he really get off in a public rest stop bathroom? What the hell was he so worked up over? You bite back any inappropriate questions lingering on your tongue as he buckles himself in and you merge back onto the highway.

Luke doesn't say a word until it's time to circle back. He's quiet, too quiet, thrumming his fingers against his knee in a rhythm you aren't able to recognize. You decide to go the exact speed limit, setting the cruise control and waiting for Luke to ask why you've done that but no such comment comes.

"You okay?" You finally ask. The two of you are trapped in here for at least another thirty minutes on the highway alone, then likely another twenty or thirty around town after that. The silence isn't deafening but it's making you a little uneasy.

"Me? Yeah- I'm great. Fantastic, actually. Why wouldn't I be? Nothing's wrong. Everything's peachy." The instructor rambles.

Something's definitely wrong. You're not a very confrontational person but you'd rather have whatever issue at hand out in the open than let it linger silently the remainder of your test. "Luke-"

As you're getting his attention, the car begins to splutter. Numerous lights illuminate the dashboard, a loud rumbling sound making the steering wheel shake beneath your hands. Immediately, Luke begins to press on the emergency instructor's breaks and with some guidance, he helps you pull off on the shoulder just as the engine dies.

Not believing the sight before you, you turn to Luke, who's equally as shocked and silent, both of your chests heaving. "What the hell?" You ask aloud.

"I have no clue," Luke says frantically. "The car's been running fine all day. There weren't any warning lights, were there?"

Truthfully, you don't remember. "I don't.. think so? All of them lit up before it crapped out."

"Shit," Luke curses lowly. "Let me see if I can figure out what's going on."

Luke slips out of the Camry, leaving his clipboard behind. You hear him yell, muffled, "Pop the hood!" And you do, after taking a second to find the button with your shaky fingers.

The longer Luke is beneath the hood the longer you worry. It's an early Thursday evening, on a fairly quiet highway, and the likelihood that some passerby is going to offer assistance is slim. Plus, tow trucks in this area only operate within a ten mile radius, so it's unlikely you'll find one for a reasonable price if the car is toast.

This is what you get for thinking he's cute, your brain tosses at you. You know it isn't true but it's kind of ironic, isn't it?

Luke slips back inside the car. "Well, one of the hoses broke," He sighs, digging through the pockets of his shorts in search of his cellphone. "So the car won't start even if we wanted it to. We'll have to call a tow truck."

"Of course this would happen during my driving exam," You sigh, eyes fluttering shut as a low, frustrated groan crawls up your throat. "Just my luck."

"I probably shouldn't include the fact that I have no service then, should I?"

Your eyes pry open. "What?" You ask, finding your phone and sure enough, no fucking signal. "Seriously? We're on the damn highway, not in the middle of the ocean!"

"Hey, we'll be fine," Luke rests his hand momentarily on your shoulder and you try to ignore the goosebumps rising on your skin. Sheepishly, he pulls it away. "I'll see if I can make an emergency call to highway patrol."

"Please do," You mumble weakly.

Your father would have a field day if he could see you. Barely a week into living away from them and you're stranded on the side of the highway with a hot driving instructor. What a joke.

With no luck, Luke groans, tossing his phone onto the dashboard. "My phone died," he says. "Can you call on yours?"

"Yeah," You dial using your phone's emergency function, only to be met with CALL FAILED in big letters. "How the hell can an emergency call fail?"

"Okay, well at least we've both probably eaten recently and I keep snacks in the trunk," You toss a glare towards the blonde, not finding his statement remotely relieving at all. "What? Teenagers get grumpy so I always have granola bars on hand."

"So we're stuck," You sigh softly. Luke nods, hands toying with one another. "Until I get signal or someone passing by takes pity on us."

"I'm sorry Y/N," Luke says quietly. "About- about all of this. I really had no idea, this car's never given me any problems."

"It's not your fault," You glance over at him, noticing his lower lip tucked between his teeth. "I'm gonna walk a bit and see if I can get signal, alright?"

"You shouldn't go alone," Luke says, a bit rushed. "I mean, not that you aren't capable or anything because I'm sure you are - female empowerment and all that I just- uh-"

"Just stay here," You say, a little clipped. You aren't upset with him, just the situation. "I'll be right back."

Luke swallows thickly, blue eyes wide. "Yes m'am."

You slip out of the car and begin walking along the shoulder, grass and gravel crunching beneath your feet, checking your cellphone every few seconds in hopes that a signal will appear. A big fat SOS stares back at you, practically mocking you.

After ten or so minutes, you aren't sure how far you've walked but you can't see the Camry anymore. You know it'll cool off soon as the sun begins to set and it'll be best if you're somewhere safe. Regretfully, you head back to the car to find Luke scribbling on his clipboard in the passenger seat.

"Nothing," You say, checking your phone once more, noticing it's been about thirty minutes since you've pulled off the road. "What're you drawing over there?"

"Just doodling," He says, showing you a mix of scribbles along the bottom of your driving checklist. "What else am I supposed to do? We're stuck for the time being."

"Yeah, you're right."

It's silent for a few minutes, aside from Luke's been inking the checklist. "We could.. play a game, maybe? Something to keep our minds off of.. y'know, the whole car breaking down thing."

"What kind of game?" You ask.

"Oh- uh, twenty questions?" Luke offers.

You snort. Twenty questions is for horny teenagers, not two almost-strangers stuck in a broken down vehicle on the side of the highway. "Guess that's a no."

"What about what are the odds?" You suggest. "I played it all the time with my soccer friends, it's pretty fun."

"Okay," Luke agrees. "You'll have to explain the rules to me, though."

You sit up a little straighter, a smile unknowingly tugging at your lips. Maybe there's an ulterior motive ping-ponging in the back of your mind. Maybe.

"It's really easy. One of us says something like 'what are the odds that you'll make an embarrassing noise', then pick a number in your head, and on the count of three we'll both say a number and if it's the same the other person has to do that thing. Make sense?"

"I think I've got it," Luke nods, turning in his seat with excited eyes. He looks fucking adorable. You shake your head, getting comfortable in the seat. "Okay, can I go first?"

"Go for it."

"Okay- uh, what are the odds that you'll.. you'll- tell me something about yourself?"

That's not quite it but a good start, Luke.

"One through fifteen." You say. "Three.. two... one.."

"Ten."

"Twelve."

"Ah, shit," Luke frowns. "I don't think I'm very good at this."

"You'll get the hang of it," You tap his knee with the back of your hand without a thought, watching his cheeks twinge pink. "I'll go. What are the odds you'll pass me?"

"One in.. ten," Luke says. "Three.. two.. one.."

"Six."

"Aha!" You grin, victoriously. "See, I'm a mindreader."

"As if I'd flunk you," Luke rolls his eyes. "You're a good driver, Y/N. You need to be a little more confident but there's no way I'd fail you."

You need to be a little more confident. Sure, Luke was talking about driving but that doesn't mean you can't apply that statement to anything else, right?

"Alright, my turn," Luke rolls his lips in thought. "What are the odds that.. you'd be my friend on Facebook?"

"Facebook?" You ask, a brow raised. "Nobody uses Facebook anymore, Luke."

"I do," Luke defends softly, shoulders drawing inward. "Just play along, Y/N."

"Okay, fine," You laugh softly. "Uhh, one in ten. Three.. two.. one.."

"Four."

"Eight."

"Damn, looks like we won't be Facebook friends," You tease, the flush still bright and red and pretty on Luke's cheeks. He's so easy to fluster. You almost regret what you're about to say. "What are the odds you'll admit the real reason we stopped at the rest area?"

Luke's face falls. "I.." He glances away from you, clearly caught off guard and there's a stinging in your chest. You should've just kept your mouth shut, he didn't deserve to be called out like that.

"I'm so sorry, that was too far, I-"

"It's..okay," Luke lets out a wavering breath. "I feel really bad about that," Your brows furrow. "Look I- I think you're really pretty and this is so, so unprofessional of me but I uh- you said girlfriend and my mind just- went off on it's own. I'm sorry."

"Oh," Your mouth feels dry all of a sudden. "You were thinking of me with- oh."

Luke looks away, clearly embarrassed, a blush blooming down his neck. "I'm sorry, Y/N. It was really inappropriate and I shouldn't have."

"It's okay," You assure him. Luke looks like a kicked puppy, unsure as his eyes slowly meet yours, not quite believing you. "Seriously, it's fine. I- yeah, I'm also into girls. I don't blame you for your.. thoughts, or whatever."

Luke sucks in a sharp breath, like you've said something sinfully explicit. "I- maybe we should end the game here before I say something really stupid."

He isn't covert about it, covering his growing hard-on, beginning to tent his shorts. Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, trailing along the inside of your lower lip. Fuck, you have quite the opportunity here and it would be a shame if you let it go to waste. Consensually, of course.

"You're thinking about me with a girl again, aren't you?" You boldly accuse, your eyes narrowing in a teasing manner, watching Luke's gentle blue eyes widen and mouth fall open. "It's okay if you are."

He's so.. submissive. You've never really explored the whole dynamic of positions like that but making your instructor blush and squirm makes you feel.. hot.

"Maybe," Luke's voice is small, soft, and you're loving every second of it. "Y/N, I-"

"What're you thinking about, Luke?" You ask, leaning forward to rest your elbows on the center console, your tone low. "Me kissing another girl, maybe? Getting all hot and bothered and messy and wet?"

A whimper crawls up his throat. "I- fuck."

You trail a finger along his thigh, tracing the leg of his shorts. "Maybe you'd just watch, huh?" You provoke him, watching his Adam's apple bob in his throat. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Yeah- I would.." His voice is weak, lips parting and soft little pants escaping them. He's so easy for it, you love it. The dominance rolling off of you in waves seems to come naturally and who are you to deny it? "Y/N.."

"What, Luke? What do you need?"

Need. Luke keens. "I.. can I.."

"You wanna touch yourself?" You ask.

"No.. you, please."

You hum. How can you say no, when he sounds so wrecked like that? "Think there's enough room for us in the back there?"

"Don't wanna.. move," Luke mumbles, eyes already glazed over. He's so far gone. "My lap?"

You won't toy with him anymore, not when he's offering to get you off. To touch you. God, his fingers are beautiful and long and you're dying to have them buried inside of you. "Yeah, 'kay." You puff out, watching Luke adjust himself properly and helping guide you to sit in his lap, your knees on either side of his hips.

It isn't ideal but it'll work. He works with shaky, excited hands to unfasten the button and zipper of your jean shorts before trailing his fingers along the waistline of your underwear. "Can I?" You nod, teeth sinking into your lower lip in anticipation.

Without hesitance, Luke dips his hand into the waistband, finding your damp heat with ease. His fingers curl around you, whimpering at the warmth before a finger slips inside of you, slick and velvety. "Oh- fuck."

"Luke," You moan out softly, clasping a hand on the instructor's shoulder. He carries a steady pace, sliding a second finger beside the first, brutally hard at the warmth coating his digits. "Fuck, feels so good."

"You're so wet," He mumbles, like he's surprised, peering up at your blissed out features. "Fuck, did I- did I do this to you?"

"Yes," Your hips shift greedily, making his fingers sink deeper into you. "You're just so.."

"So?" You can feel his breath against your collarbone through your shirt.

"So needy," You moan, rotating your hips, effectively riding Luke's fingers, like he's some kind of toy. "It's so hot, how hard you get so easily- I- fuck, there."

"Y/N," Luke pants against you, his free hand trailing up to your hip, holding tightly. "Wanna make you cum, please."

"Yeah?" You breathe out. "Gonna let me ride your fingers? Fuck myself until I cum?"

"Oh god," Luke trembles, his movements faltering but it doesn't matter, you're moving steadily and the more you shift the more his fingers hit that perfect spot. You can feel it in your toes, that you're close, but you need something else to get you there.

"Did you think about me?" You ask, a light sweat forming on your brow. "When you got off in the bathroom? Did you moan for me?"

"Yes," Luke admits in a whine. "Yes- fucking- came so hard, Y/N. Thought of you the whole time."

Just thinking about Luke, working his cock so quickly in his fist thinking about you is enough, warmth flooding your stomach as your orgasm rapidly approaches and you're releasing all over Luke's fingers. Like a fucking floodgate.

"Oh fuck," You hear him moan, fingers slowing as your hips come to a halt. "Fuck, Y/N."

Blissful and warm and flushed, Luke retracts his fingers from you, the digits glistening as he slips them into his mouth with needy, complacent hums. He looks more wrecked than you do.

"Can I- can I ride you?" You blurt.

Luke goes rigid. "What?"

"I wanna ride you," You reiterate. "I wanna fuck you, Luke. Can I?"

"You- yeah, fuck of course," Luke's eyes are blue and glassy and glazed and you aren't even sure how he's functioning right now. He hasn't even cum yet so- wait. "Just give me a minute.."

Curiously, you shift back a bit on his lap to see he's half-hard and there's an obvious damp patch on the front of his shorts. "Did you cum while you were touching me?"

Luke nods. "Sorry."

"Fuck that's so hot," You can't help it, fitting both hands beneath his jaw to tilt his head upward, capturing his lips easily with your own. He tastes like spearmint gum and flavored coffee, it's all you can think about when you feel his tongue swipe across your bottom lip. That was too easy, you can already feel his dick fattening against your thigh again. "Do you have a condom?"

"In my wallet," Luke pants against your mouth. "I wasn't like- expecting this, by the way."

"Neither was I," You laugh softly, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips. "Let me get my shorts off."

Car sex seems so hot in theory until you're caught up in the moment and you're stuck trying to take off clothing where it's just not possible. You manage to slip your shorts off, leaving your damp underwear on before claiming Luke's lap once again. The condom sits in the crevice between his thigh and hip, fly open and dick straining against the seam of his boxers.

"Get yourself ready for me," You tell him softly, your fingertips trailing along your lower abdomen, along the inside of your shirt to cup your breasts beneath your bra. Luke's in a trance, nearly swallowing his own tongue before nodding and barely wiggling his shorts and boxers down his hips. He slips the condom on, abandoning the foil packet god knows where, before stroking himself a few times with a gentle hiss. "Fuck, you're gorgeous."

Luke squirms at that. "Thank you," he mutters. "Can I- are you ready?"

"So ready," He carefully aligns his hips with yours before slowly pressing inside, letting out tiny whimpers with every inch he sinks in. "Fuck."

"Y/N," Luke moans, eyes threatening to fall shut. His hands find your thighs, blunt nails digging into the soft skin there, hips threatening to rut upwards at the sheer warmth encasing his cock. It's immeasurable, how good you feel wrapped snugly around him.

"So good, Luke, you're doing so good," You praise gently, holding yourself upright with your hands on his broad shoulders. Once he's buried to the hilt, you slowly rock your hips in a circle, eliciting a short gasp from the blonde. "Such a good boy."

The simple phrase makes Luke choke on his own breath. "You're so warm," he mumbles, lips barely moving, chest rising and falling steadily. You rock your hips again. "Oh my god."

Luke isn't like the guys you've slept with before. He's sensitive and responsive and it's probably the hottest thing you've ever witnessed. It's like he's fighting the urge to give in. Slowly, you begin to bounce in his lap, testing the waters. Luke moans every time you sink down.

"Yeah?" You ask him after a particularly whiny moan falls from his mouth. "Feel good, Luke? Tell me. Tell me how good it feels."

"Feels so good," He babbles, a wheezy, whining mess every bounce you make. It's slick and wet and so fucking hot you know you'll cum again sometime soon. He's hitting all the right spots inside of you. It helps he's probably the biggest dick you've taken by far. "So good. Please don't stop, please."

"Not gonna stop," You mutter, nails sinking into the skin of his shoulders. "You're such a good boy, Luke. Taking it so well. Feel so good inside me."

Luke lets out a squeak when you clench around him. "Mommy-"

Your hips falter briefly but you can't stop, you refuse, because that word, though you've never been called that before it lights a flame inside of your stomach that makes you want more and more and more. "Yeah?" You abandon your grip on one of his shoulders to clasp his jaw, making Luke meet your eyes, his half lidded and cloudy and dark blue. "Gonna let mommy fuck you, Luke? Ride your cock until she cums?"

Luke bites down on his lower lip so hard he swears he can taste blood. His head is swirling, like yours, all fuzzy and fucked dumb. Your pace grows quicker, a bit more focused but frenzied, until Luke's panting to the point where he's babbling words that don't even make any sense. "Gonna- please- need-"

"What, Luke? What do you need?" You ask, ghosting your lips over his own. He whimpers against your mouth.

"Wanna cum, mommy. Can I?"

"Yeah baby," You press a hard kiss to his mouth, pushing your tongue past his lips and that's all he needs, gripping your thighs tightly until he's fully inside of you before releasing into the condom. Luke slumps slightly, clearly spent but you're far from finished. "Stay still, won't you?"

"What-" Luke mutters, flushed and confused when you begin to raise your hips and sink back down on him. "Oh fuck me."

"So close, Luke," He isn't softening in the slightest. It almost makes you smile, makes you proud because he's so turned on, just letting you use him like some kind of fuck toy. "Touch me?"

Luke nods, blissed out, attaching his thumb to your clit and rubbing furious, hard circles. Your thighs tremble as your orgasm builds up, toes curling inside of your shoes before finally letting go and releasing all over his length.

Shuddering through the warmth spreading up the base of your spine, your nails sink into the instructor's shoulders, panting against his mouth as he tips his head up to connect your lips in a soft kiss. Your skin feels tingly in the best way, electric, and your head swarming furiously.

Luke pulls away first. He's so flushed, from the tips of his ears to the base of his neck and you're positive that pretty pink blush has reached his naval, there's no doubt. He's definitely a full-body blusher. "Y/N.."

"Yeah?" You ask quietly, breathless, noticing the windows have fogged up a little bit from your activities.

"Can you.. sorry, it's just uh- the condom's a bit uncomfortable." The blonde grimaces apologetically, reddening further when you muffle out a short laugh and slowly climb off of him. Your underwear are soaked, from your own release, but you slide your shorts back on anyways as Luke ties off the condom and places it hesitantly on the floorboard.

Now that the two of you are dressed, less short on breath, you figure it might be best to address what the hell just happened. "Luke-"

"Y/N-"

"Sorry, go ahead," You mumble.

"I wasn't- planning that. Or, expecting it, I swear," Luke says rather quickly, eyes flitting away from you, a bit embarrassed. "Please don't think I make a habit of this. You're- you're the first."

You swallow harshly. "The first?"

A nervous, awkward laugh tumbles out of Luke's mouth. "No, no, that was a girlfriend in high school. I mean- uh- student."

"Oh," You puff out a relieved breath, resting your head back. You're still warm and relaxed from your orgasms. "Well in that case, I don't really sleep with driving instructors, so I guess it's a first for both of us."

"It's not.." Luke trails off, his voice low, like he isn't sure how to phrase what he's thinking. "It won't be the only time, will it?"

That comes as a bit of a surprise to you. Again, you weren't really the hook-up type but the guys you have hooked up with in the past were quick to forget it even happened and move on with their lives.

You're stunned into a short silence. Will that be the only time you hook up with Luke? Sure, he's funny, and insanely attractive, but aside from the few things you've shared during the drive he's still almost a complete stranger.

"I understand," Luke quietly says.

"No I- sorry, I was just- surprised," You say. "I'd like to see you again. Maybe not in a broken down car on the side of the highway."

Luke chuckles briefly. "Okay, cool," The tension seems to slip from his shoulders. "Sorry, I'm not really good at this. I don't really uh- date? Just, with work and everything it's hard to find the time."

"Being a driving instructor is that demanding?" You inquire, a lighthearted teasing lift to your voice. The highway is still dead silent and the sun is slowly beginning to set. Soon, you'll be cast in a hue of pinks and oranges and pretty purples.

"I race for a living," Luke says, catching your attention abruptly, your brows furrowing in confusion. "It's not something I really bring up in conversation or during uh- other things."

"You're not like, a Nascar driver or something, right?" You joke. Luke stays silent. "What the fuck?"

Way to go, Y/N. Fucking a driving instructor slash Nascar driver. Your parents would be so proud. Stupid girl.

"Like I said, I don't really tell people," Luke quickly defends, swallowing as an anxious look perturbs his features. "This doesn't uh- change anything right? About seeing me again?"

"No but if my dad finds out you're gonna be forced into every Sunday dinner until you're dead," You speak without thinking, still shocked about Luke's line of work. And here you were thinking he was just a dorky driving instructor for the state of Michigan. "Sorry, that was weird."

Luke laughs, shaking his head. He took your comment well, like too well, and you're starting to think maybe Luke isn't real at this point. He's too.. perfect. Handsome, dorky, a fucking racecar driver. "You're fine, I get it. Your dad's a big fan, then?"

"Huge," You sigh. "My brothers, too."

"You think they'd come to a race if I set aside some tickets?" Luke's teeth sink into his bottom lip, a hopeful look on his splotchy, pink face.

"I- I mean yeah," You stumble. "Luke, you really don't have to.."

"I want to," He reassures you, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I really wanna see you again and if free tickets is the way I can then, I'd be dumb not to offer."

"For the record, I'd see you again regardless of the free tickets," You tell him, leaning to rest your elbows on the console. One of his eyebrows arch curiously, in a way that's so damn hot and Luke doesn't even realize it.

"Yeah?" he asks.

"Yeah," You confirm. "By the way-"

You're cut off by the chirping of a siren, glancing out of the rearview mirror to see a State Trooper has parked behind you, lights flashing.

Well fuck. This'll be fun.

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leviethinsaint · 1 month ago

Text

middle of the night. lrh

pairing: luke hemmings x fem! reader

summary: you're awaken in the middle of the night by your best friend and roommate, luke, who's having quite a risque dream.

warnings: 18+ only. minors DNI. cursing, degradation, wet dream, slight sir kink, unprotected sex, creampie, friends to lovers without the plot lol.

word count: 3,381

a/n: this only exists bc one of my friends on twt sent me a pic of luke that i can't find for some reason but all it made me think of was roommates x wet dream x well, smut. idk! i hope you enjoy!

feedback and constructive criticism welcome. requests are open!

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"Fuck, just like that."

It's the middle of the night when you begin to stir, a small ache in your shoulders from the uncomfortable couch you and your roommate had fallen asleep on some hours ago, your eyes hesitantly and sleepily blinking open.

A soft glow of light from the television hardly illuminates the dark living room, a small yawn escaping your lips. A few incoherent mumbles continue to escape your best friend's lips, a slew of stifled moans and shifting limbs following them.

Peeking over your shoulder, you can barely make out the pale boy's features, his eyelids fluttered shut and lips slightly agape. "So good, Y-"

"Luke?" You nudge his bare arm with your elbow, feeling a warmth spread across your cheeks at the quick realization he's having a far from innocent dream. You try again, with a bit more force, despite the exhaustion coursing through you from the lack of sleep. "Luke."

"Hm?" the blonde suddenly blinks awake, slightly panicked as he sits himself up, eyes hazy and distant. "What's wrong?"

You stifle a giggle at his wild hair and confused expression, his bare chest still heaving slightly from his startled state. "Nothing's wrong," you say, "You woke me up."

"Oh," a pink hue washes over him, swallowing a thick lump forming in his throat, blinking away the images left behind from his stupid little dream about his pretty roommate. "Sorry. Fuck, what time is it?"

"Uh," you crane your neck, narrowing your eyes to catch sight of the small digital clock on the stove not far from you. "Half past three."

"Shit," Luke quietly hisses, shuffling underneath the knitted blanket covering you both, feeling a bit restricted in his jeans. With each blink of his eyes he can't stop picturing the sinful fucking sight he'd been dreaming about. "Sorry for waking you."

"It's fine," You dismiss him with the wave of your hand, backside still pressed against the boy's clothed thigh, thinking nothing of the position. A small smirk however twitches at your lips. "Dreaming about Julia again?" you tease, pushing your lips to the side.

Luke shoots you a glare, clearly unamused by your attempt at a joke, though his heart skips a beat at the simple idea that you knew what type of dream was unfolding behind his eyelids. "No, Julia's annoying."

"I thought you said Rachel was annoying?" your brow quirks, tucking your lower lip between your teeth.

"I said Rachel's obnoxious," he clarifies with a simple scoff, slinging his arm over the back of the couch, muscles flexing and catching your attention, "Why do you care anyway?"

Your breath hitches momentarily, affected unfamiliarly by the simple sight. You’ve seen Luke shirtless a million times - hell, you've cuddled on this very couch on more than one occasion. Platonically, of course.

You ignore the blush on your cheeks and the small frustration bubbling in your stomach from his question, "I don't," you shrug, though he isn't convinced, "I'd just rather not be woken up by your stupid wet dreams."

Luke's eyes quickly widen, lips parting in slight shock at the confrontation, though he doesn't utter a single word to defend himself. You just offer a simple soft laugh before getting up from the couch, fetching the two of you a glass of water.

When you return, Luke's jeans impossibly tighten at your attire, your crooked little tank top and sleeping shorts, unknowingly bunched at the tops of your smooth tanned thighs. Fuck.

Never had Luke looked at you, his best friend of nearly ten years in a sexual or romantic way, but the absence of a bra on your upper half and the little patch of exposed skin between the hemline of your tank top and waistline of your shorts has him on the brink of drooling.

"Hello, Earth to Luke," your hand waves in front of the boy's eyes, blinking out of his terrible, terrible thoughts to see you standing at the end of the couch, a glass of water in your palm. "You alright?"

A shaky hand reaches for the glass, nearly spilling the liquid all over his lap as he desperately brings it to his lips, chugging the contents in almost record time. Your brow raises curiously.

"You got that worked up over a dream?" You laugh softly, taking a seat beside him, legs criss-crossed while you sip on your own glass of water, no idea the effect you have on the blonde boy at this moment. "Damn, Luke, it's like you're sixteen all over again."

"Shut up," he exhales loudly, placing the now empty glass on the side table, raking a hand over his face. God, why now? Why in the hell is he having inappropriate dreams about his best fucking friend? "Drop it." Luke shoots you a stern glare, only fueling you further.

A mischievous smile appears on your lips, quickly disappearing as you compose yourself, feigning innocent curiosity. "Let me guess," you start softly, pretending to ponder, "Doggy? No, that wouldn't rile you up," you shake your head quickly, fingers tapping on the side of your glass, "Reverse cowgirl."

"Y/N." he mutters through gritted teeth, white knuckling the arm of the couch, fearful to glance at the brunette. "Stop."

"What?" you giggle quietly, "Oh come on, don't go all innocent on me now," your eyes roll playfully, "Not like I haven't heard it all before."

"I'm serious," Luke grumbles, trying to regulate his breaths but struggles, nearly full fucking mass in his jeans now. Thankfully the knitted blanket bunched in his lap prevents you from realizing how fucking turned on he is. "Cut it out."

Luke chooses the wrong moment to glance at you, just as you’re leaning towards the opposite end of the couch to place your half empty glass on the other side table, giving the blonde a perfect view of your backside. Fucking hell.

"You're no fun," you pout, turning back to him and meeting his darkened eyes, barely visible from the glow of the television. To this, your breath falters, noticing his tense demeanor. "What?"

"Go to bed." he suddenly says, not bothering to break eye contact between you two, watching as your tempting little lips part in genuine confusion. Had you pushed too far? Crossed a line?

"Luke, I was just teasing-"

Luke's eyes narrow at you, almost menacingly, enough to make you choke down your words. "Y/N, if you're not in your bed in the next thirty seconds I'm going to do something we can never come back from."

To the blonde's surprise, you stay put. Not out of fear, or worry that you’ve done something wrong, but because you’re simply curious. Folding your hands in your lap, you remain silent, awaiting the boy's reaction with nervously pursed lips.

His blue eyes flicker to those little fucking shorts, hardly covering you, and stifles a groan. "Come here," he says lowly, tongue tracing the inside of his lip. Hesitantly, you slowly crawl the short distance before sitting beside him on your knees. "God damnit, Y/N."

"What?" you ask, nearly a whisper, unaware of the effect you have on him. "Look, if I went too far I'm sorry-"

"Shut up."

"Luke-"

"Jesus fucking Christ, Y/N," Luke sighs frustratedly, tearing his eyes from yours, "Do you not get it?"

"Get what?" your fingers anxiously tap on the tops of your thighs, biting the inside of your cheek, filled with worry.

"My dream wasn't about Julia or fucking Rachel," he scoffs, turning to face you again, his adam's apple bobbing slowly, "It was about you."

Your breath hitches. Are you still half asleep? Did Luke really say-

"Me?" you whisper before quickly shaking your head, "Luke, that's not funny, okay? I don't know what game you're playing-"

Your words cease when a warm, calloused hand finds your thigh, gripping the soft skin firmly. "I'm not fucking with you," he tells you, "I don't know where the fuck it came from but those goddamn shorts of yours aren't helping right now."

Swallowing the thick lump of nerves in your throat, the words falling from your lips aren't remotely close to what Luke could have ever predicted. "So do something about it."

"Oh fuck me," a low groan leaves Luke's throat, tossing his head back momentarily, "Don't have to tell me twice."

And suddenly Luke's hand is on the back of your head, pulling you toward him forcefully to claim your lips in a messy, desperate kiss. You instantly melt into him, the taste of popcorn still lingering on his chapped lips from the bowl you’d shared hours ago.

Luke doesn't hesitate to swipe his tongue along your lower lip, pushing your kiss deeper as you brace yourself by grasping at his shoulder, a soft moan escaping your lips, which Luke is eager to swallow.

The blonde's unoccupied hand finds your hip easily, thumb firmly pressing against the bone there, his remaining fingers digging into the fabric of your pathetic excuse for shorts. Your hips instinctively roll at the contact.

Luke's regretfully pulling away, both of you adorning swollen, pink lips and flushed cheeks, even in the low light of the television it was quite obvious. "Fuck, you have no idea-"

"Me too," you cut him off in a whisper, eyes flickering between his and his intoxicating lips. "Luke-"

"Fuck, what've we done?" he mumbles more so to himself, though he doesn't retract his hands and you don’t bother to tell him to. "Y/N, I'm so sorry-"

"Just shut up," you shake your head, free hand grasping at the chain looped around his bare neck and pulling him forward, claiming his lips just as he had done to yours previously. He doesn't protest when you sling a leg over his lap, thighs settled on either side of his, eliciting a deep groan from his throat.

When your lips part, his eyes hesitantly flicker between yours and your new position, your hips flush against his own. "Are you- are you sure?"

You shyly nod. A groan of disapproval leaves Luke's lips, his grip tightening on the back of your head, fingers weaving through your hair, pulling you closer to him as if your chests hadn't been brushing the entire time. "Yeah, silence doesn't work for me, Y/N."

"Yes," you breathe out, clenching your thighs desperately, "Yes, I'm so fucking sure, Luke. Please-"

"Fuck," he grits out, hips bucking against your center, "So fuckin' needy for me, aren't you?" When your eyes widen at his crass words, Luke's lips twitch into a sly, crooked smirk, filled to the brim with satisfaction. He tugs the strands between his fingers again. "Aren't you?"

"Yes- fuck."

The hand not grasping your hair retreats to your upper thigh, thumb resting in the crease there, fingernails digging into your soft skin and forcing his clothed length against your sensitive center. "Feel that, sweetheart?" Luke's tone lowers, fighting the urge to moan at the feeling alone, as he breaths low and slow against your lips, taunting you, "I'm gonna fuckin' ruin you."

"Please," you helplessly whimper in response, eyelids tempting to flutter shut at the simple feeling, Luke's cock twitching in the confinement of his jeans at your sinful little plea. Never in his life had he imagined a scenario with you like this becoming a reality.

Luke quickly taps your thigh so you’ll raise yourself, allowing him to kick off the thin knitted blanket on his lap, exposing the outline of his achingly hard length in his fitted jeans, the blonde's jaw tensed so hard his teeth begin to ache. He can't fucking begin to imagine how good you’re going to feel wrapped around him.

His ringed fingers fumble with the button and fly of his dark jeans, too fucking anxious to finally set his cock free. He leaves them pooled around his knees carelessly, his fitted black boxers following suit. A soft hiss leaves Luke's lips at the release. You, however, are at a loss for words.

Sure, your mutual friends have always joked about Luke's dick- but never did you fucking imagine there being a lick of truth to their absurd statements.

"You-" you breathlessly choke out, unable to look away from his length, eyes widened and suddenly feeling a stir in your stomach. "There's no fucking way, Luke-"

"What, am I too big for you?" Luke teases in a low tone, a sickening little smirk on his lips, head cocked to the side. "You don't think you can handle it?"

As you’re shaking your head and finally tearing your eyes away, you meet his gaze, hesitant. "I- I don't know-"

He lets out a low, sinister chuckle before his hands are on your hips again, pulling your clothed center flush with his exposed length, ghosting his lips against yours. "Too fuckin' bad, sweetheart, you're gonna take it and I don't wanna hear a single fucking complaint."

A low, drawn out whimper escapes your poor lips, swallowing your nerves while Luke continues to jut his hips. "Yes, sir." the words fall from your mouth before you can even process them.

"Ah, what a good girl, hm?" the boy hums against your lips, "Gonna fuck you so good, Y/N, I promise."

"Please."

"Please, what?"

"Please, sir."

"Goddamn," he pulls away slightly, so fucking hard he's nearly on the brink of orgasm from the simple word alone, ringed fingers retracting from your hip to the thin, stretchy material of your shorts, sliding between your thigh and the fabric until his forefinger finds the dampened material of your underwear. "You want me that fucking bad? Hm? Had to go and get this fucking wet for me?"

"Luke-"

"Fucking pathetic," he scoffs, sending a shock straight to your spine as he slowly teases his finger against you, pressing firmly against your clit like some fucking expert. "Can't wait to watch you sink down on my cock."

You’re already a fucking mess and he's barely touched you, fingers grasping at the thin underwear and sliding them to the side, Luke's free hand preparing himself and pressing his tip against you. "So fuckin' wet, don't need nothin' else."

You suck in a deep, loud breath as Luke begins to push inside, giving you no mercy as his hands find your hips yet again and force you down his entire length, your hands grasping desperately onto his broad shoulders. "Fuck-" you croak out, eyes pinching shut at the sudden stretch. "Oh my-"

"S'okay baby," he coos softly, thumbs pressing firmly onto your hips, no doubt leaving bruises there you'll find in the morning. Well, later in the morning, that is. "M'gonna take good care of you."

Your fingernails absentmindedly dig into his pale, freckled skin, feeling tears begin to prick at your eyes. You’d never felt so- so full.

"Please, Luke-" your throat suddenly runs dry, eyes flying open as he uses the grip on your hips to pull your body upwards, forcing your back down onto his length roughly. "Fuck-"

"Quiet," he interjects curtly, "Want you to take my fucking cock the way I give it to you. Cry all you want, sweet girl."

The pain of the stretch doesn't last long, thankfully, though each rough thrust of Luke's hips has your vision blurring, the sound of his thighs smacking against the back of yours bouncing off the walls of your quiet shared apartment.

You adjust to the blonde's deep, rough rhythm, the fabric of your flimsy little tank top settling just below your breasts, catching Luke's eye. Managing to continue his pace, his teeth capturing the metallic black lip ring tucked in the corner of his mouth, one of his hands slides the fabric further until they're both exposed to him.

"Fuck, you're so pretty," he grunts softly, wetting his bottom lip due to the tempting fucking sight of you sinking down on his cock like the good fucking girl you are. He cups one of them, a whimper leaving your mouth amidst mumbled curses. "You feel so fucking good on my cock."

"Luke-"

"Say it, Y/N. Fucking say it."

"Sir, please-"

"Fuck," he grits his teeth for the millionth time, the word never growing old as it reaches his ears, before he's suddenly halting, pressing his hips firmly against you until you’re nearly out of breath. So goddamn deep.

It takes less than a second before he's pushing you onto your back, still connected and instead of grasping your hips his hands find your knees, pressing your thighs flush against your chest.

Luke sucks in a quick breath, standing on his knees as his jeans are still pooled around them, restricting him slightly but he simply doesn't give a fuck right now. Slowly retracting his cock, he keeps his eyes on your pretty little lips as he pushes his hips forward suddenly, hitting an entirely new spot and causing a borderline scream to leave your mouth.

"Fuck-" you gasps, lips parting and resting a hand on your bare breast to ground yourself, thighs already shuddering from one fucking thrust. This only heightens the blonde's satisfaction, ignoring the small beads of sweat that begin to accumulate on his forehead. "Oh my fucking god-"

"Fuckin' told you," Luke grunts, a white knuckle grip on your knees, preventing any pushback you attempted to give as your thighs shake beneath his hold, "Told you I'd fuckin' ruin you, didn't I?"

"Y-yes-"

"That feel good, sweetheart?" he rasps, throat nearly raw from the groans and moans he continues to stifle, "Feelin' me so goddamn deep inside of you?"

"Luke, please- so- so deep-"

"Yeah, baby," instead of gripping both of your knees, Luke decides to rest his forearm against them to keep you in place, snaking his free hand between your thighs, attaching his thumb to your sensitive clit, a desperate little whimper leaving you. "You're doin' such a good job, takin' me so well."

You instinctively clench around him, causing a hiss to leave his lips, eyelids falling shut at the overstimulation. "I'm- oh fuck-"

"That's it," he responds lowly, not slowing down his harsh, deep thrusts, rendering you nearly breathless. "Come on, fuckin' cum all over my cock."

"Sir- I-"

"Fuck," Luke grunts, continuing his quick firm movements against your swollen, sensitive clit, as you clench harder and harder around his cock. "Good fucking God, I'm gonna cum if you keep doing that."

"Please, please cum with me-" you ramble helplessly, eyes flying open and meeting Luke's darkened blues, his breaths growing ragged and chest so fucking tight from the sight of desperation on your face. "Please."

Luke's thrusts grow sloppily, orgasm building quickly in his stomach, lower lip tucked between his teeth. One last particularly deep thrust, hitting that goddamn special little spot has you gasping for breath. Feeling your release coat his length, he finally lets go, hips stuttering to a slow pace, eventually stopping all together.

Both of you adorn heaving chests as the sound of your breaths echo the living room, both covered in a thin sheen of sweat. "Y/N-"

"Holy shit, Hemmings," You manage to choke out, every goddamn inch of your body now sore, choking back a whimper as the blonde slowly slips out of you. "I didn't- fuck."

"Didn't what?" Luke asks, just as breathless, knees reddened from the friction against the sofa, tugging his boxers up his thighs and tucking himself inside of them. "Are you okay?"

"There's no goddamn way we can ever be friends," You slowly slink your knees down, feet flat on the couch's cushion. Luke's lips pull into a frown at your words, about to interject before a little laugh escapes you. "Not if you fuck like that."

Luke playfully smacks your thigh, "You fuckin' scared me, Y/N, don't do that," he leans forward to hover over you, eyeing the snide little grin on your pretty lips. "Come on, if you shower with me I'll reward you for bein' so good."

Your dazed blue eyes blink slowly, watching Luke smile admiringly down at you. You both know there's no coming back from this, no way you’ll ever be just friends again.

And you don't mind one bit.

"The only way I'm showering with you is if you carry me, I'm fucking wrecked."

"I think that can be arranged."

840 notes · View notes

leviethinsaint · 1 month ago

Text

above the law. lrh

pairing: luke hemmings x fem! reader

summary: luke's so sick of his assistant, you, talking all the damn time. he finally does something about it.

warnings: 18+ only. minors DNI. smut, thigh-riding, unprotected sex, verbal degradation, rough bj, slightly dubious consent, office sex, cum-swallowing, cursing.

word count: 4,173

a/n: i wrote this originally back in early 2023 as an au using one of my wattpad original characters. through some editing, i've decided to change the pov and post it here! i hope you enjoy x

feedback and constructive criticism welcome. requests are open!

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hemmings, get your head out of your ass for once and finish this goddamn deal."

The curly headed blonde's eyes snap away from the project he's currently in the middle of, various folders scattered amongst his desk, drowning him in useless paperwork all for a stupid fucking merger.

"The fuck do you think I'm doing?" Luke grumbles under his breath, snapping the Bolton file shut and tossing his overly expensive fountain pen on top of the mess he's created. Ashton Irwin, one of three named partners, stands with his arms crossed in the doorway of Luke's corner office, an unamused expression on his face.

"I think you're trying to do all this shit on your own instead of utilizing your associate, that's what I think," the honey blonde scoffs, thick brow raising, "Where's Y/N anyway? You send her across town for your stupid coffee again?"

"No," Luke's quick to defend, though it is the easiest way to get you out of his eyesight for a little while and focus, "I've got her on the Mansfield settlement."

"The Mansfield- that's Mike's case, idiot," Ashton shakes his head, "What's the deal, Luke? You really hate Y/N that much?"

A sigh of exhaustion leaves Luke's lips, head cocking back as he stares at the ceiling. "She's just chatty," he says vaguely, "Can't get a single fuckin' thing done 'cause she won't shut up."

"She's your associate, Luke, stop pawning her off on Mike or he'll swipe her out from under you."

"Good," he forces out a low chuckle, meeting the man's eyes, "He can have her."

"Don't say things you don't mean, you know she's one of the best associates we've got." Luke's eyes roll at his boss' words, sitting up straighter in his desk chair.

"Whatever," he mumbles softly, not willing to admit your brain is undeniably better than half the fucking people he's met. "Can I get back to work now?"

A defeated sigh escapes Ash's lips, "If I don't see Y/N in here working with you I'll make sure to send Calum your way."

"Calum?" the curly haired boy's nose wrinkles, shaking his head, "That's like giving me a fucking puppy, Ash, literally useless."

"Your call." he responds, a little smirk on his lips before pulling Luke's office door shut behind him. A groan leaves Luke's throat at this, the urge to rip every last blonde ringlet from his head at the idea of spending the remaining afternoon going over these stupid files with you.

Regardless of the fact that you’re distracting, which he'll never admit aloud, he shoots you a vague text requiring your presence in his office, no more than twenty minutes from now.

And of course, your dainty little wrist began knocking on the dark wooden door of his office precisely twenty-three minutes after he'd sent the text, only fueling his annoyance. A curt "come in" leaves his lips but his eyes remain on the file, instead of the sinful black dress on your curvy frame.

Tasteful and tightly fit, your fingers instinctively tug at the material resting on your mid thigh, a worrisome look on your features. For as long as you can recall, Luke's always teased you about your wardrobe, especially the bright colors and silken skirts.

"You're late," his tone is flat, hand scribbling away at the paperwork he's nearly memorized already, "I swear to god if you say some bullshit about the elevator again-"

Luke's words die in his throat as he lifts his head, eyes landing on the tight fabric on your frame, hugging every fucking dip and curve of your body. You meet eyes, yours widening, worried you’re going to be lectured again. Was your dress too plain, too boring?

The sweetheart neckline alone almost makes Luke lick his lips, stifling the urge to say something far, far more inappropriate to his associate. "Doesn't matter," the blonde rushes out, "We're gonna be here all night. Preorder from Machi's while you're at it."

"Okay," is all you say, walking closer to his desk, the click of your heels echoing Luke's ears as you bend over, just slightly, grabbing his desk phone and beginning to dial.

After nearly four hours and neither had made a miraculous discovery, a whine of agony leaves your throat, sat across the moderately sized office, snapping yet another useless file folder shut. "Luke,"

"What?" he rasps, tearing his eyes away from the file, meeting your eyes, his own filled with annoyance. "Don't tell me you've got nothing, Y/N."

"There's honestly no reason why Bolton should be merging with Daniels," you sigh out, running a hand through your hair, "Seriously, it's like Pampers merging with Microsoft, they have no interest in one another."

"Christ," Luke mutters under his breath, jaw tensing as you continue to ramble useless information, "Do you ever shut up?"

Mid-sentence, your lips snap shut, a warmth spreading across your cheeks. "Sorry," you respond softly, and Luke almost feels bad for being so curt, but god you never close your fucking mouth. "Did you find anything?"

A huff of air leaves Luke's nose, "Maybe," he says, twirling his fountain pen between his fingers, leg bouncing aimlessly as he scans over the documents for the umpteenth time. "But you keep fucking talking and it's throwing me off."

"Sorry."

"Damnit, Y/N," his curls bounce slightly as he shakes his head, rifling a hand through them, glancing over at your position on the small sofa, dress slightly ridden up your smooth thighs. "Come here, let me show you something."

Hesitantly, you toss the file on your lap onto the cushion, standing and making your way over to Luke's desk, oblivious to the fitted material of your dress riding a bit higher than intended. Luke swallows thickly, attempting to keep focus on the file in his hand. As you lean over slightly to see what Luke's underlined, his eyelids fall shut, the smell of your perfume annihilating his senses.

"But that means-" you cut yourself off, lower lip tucked between your teeth, palms flat on the corner of Luke's desk, "This isn't about combining their companies, is it?"

"No," Luke finally says after a moment, slowly blinking his eyes open, "But we need to convince the judge it is."

"That's impossible, Luke, it's clear they're only doing this for-"

"I know, just figure it out, Y/N."

"That'll take all night," you whine softly, "I'm not sleeping in the office two nights in a row." Luke's teeth grit together at your response, frustrated and fed up with your goddamn attitude.

"If you can't do it I'll find someone who can," he cranes his neck to meet your eyes, narrowed and darkened, "You wanna whine about a few more hours be my guest, but you're not doing it here."

"But-"

"Jesus fucking-" he abandons his pen with a thud, rubbing the palms of his hands against his tired eyes, "I seriously have never met someone so goddamn annoying. All you fucking do is whine and complain and talk my fucking ear off," Luke rambles lowly, "You wanted to be an associate, so be a goddamn associate and shut your fucking mouth before I shut it for you."

You stand upright, embarrassment washing over your features, attempting to remain composed as tears threaten your eyes. It's not a secret that Luke's always harbored some sort of annoyance toward you, but he's never spoken to you in such a vile manner before. You swallow the thick lump in your throat, fists balled at your sides. How dare he say those things to you?

"You're an asshole," you say, voice wavering slightly, "You're always a dick to everyone. Nobody's ever good enough for you. I wanted to be an associate to learn and do what I love, not be talked to like a child."

"The fuck did you say to me?" Luke counters with a raised brow, ringed fingers slowly rolling up the sleeves of his fitted black dress shirt. "I think you forget who you work for. Not Ashton, not Michael, definitely not Jessica. You work for me, Y/N, and if you want to keep your fucking job I think you owe me a goddamn apology."

Luke's eyes flicker between yours and the hemline of your little black dress, the skin of your thighs soft and tempting as he widens the distance between his legs, splayed open. "Come here," he says, a bit quieter this time, though he's fucking seething internally, he can't deny how fucking hot it is talking down to the you. Hesitantly, you step closer, stomach swirling with uneasiness.

"You don't wanna go through those files? Fine," Luke forces out a low chuckle, "But I've got work to do and I'm not gonna let you get in the way of that. So what you're gonna do is sit right here," he taps on his clothed thigh, "Shut your fucking mouth and make yourself cum on my thigh."

"What-"

"You heard me."

"Luke, I-"

"It wasn't a question, Y/N. And so help me god if you complain or make a fucking sound you're more than welcome to leave."

For the first time, you’re speechless. Standing so close to the man you swear hates you with every fiber of his being, asking you to make yourself cum on his thigh, you can't help the clench of your own thighs at the thought. Sure, you’ve had those kinds of thoughts about the tall blonde, but never did you imagine his request.

"So? What'll it be?" Luke asks impatiently, a thick brow raised as he grabs his pen, clicking it profusely, leaning back in his chair.

Wordlessly, and swallowing your pride, you step closer, slowly lifting your leg over the blonde's thigh, his foot firmly planted on the small rug beneath him. His eyes almost widen, as if he didn't expect you to comply, and he stifles a grunt when your warm center meets the fabric of his slacks. He can feel how fucking wet you are through the thin material of your underwear, your dress sliding a bit further up your thighs, almost exposing yourself to him.

"Alright then," Luke clears his throat, leaning forward slightly to grab the Bolton file, relaxing in his desk chair. "Get to it."

With her heart rattling in her chest, you grasp the armrest of Luke's chair to ground yourself, filled to the brim with shame. Are you really going to do this? You can still back out, you don't need to show Luke how pathetic you are, fucking leaking on his slacks just from his crude words. You don't even register the rock of your hips against his thigh until a soft moan slips from your lips, catching Luke's attention, his eyes briefly flickering to you.

And fuck is it hot. Your eyes slowly flutter shut as your hips roll in slow motions, the friction from the fabric forgotten, sensitive clit throbbing from your movements. Luke's jaw tenses, tearing his eyes away from the tempting sight, his cock twitching in his slacks.

Shame and embarrassment are out the window as you near your first orgasm, the explicit images of things you’ve only dreamt of unfolding behind your eyelids. You can only fucking imagine how Luke's fingers would feel inside you, the things he'd say as he's bottoming out inside of your tight heat. And it's suddenly overwhelming as you clench pathetically, throbbing against his thigh and your own legs shaking as you finish. "Fuck-"

Luke's eyes widen, biting hard at the inside of his cheek to keep his composure, the sound of you falling apart on his thigh sending a jolt straight to his aching cock. He wants nothing more than to bend you over his desk and fuck the daylights out of you until you’re drooling and forgetting your own goddamn name.

Reality comes crashing down as your orgasm passes, ragged breaths leaving your parted lips. Did you really just make yourself cum on your boss' thigh? "Luke-"

"Do it again."

"What?" You ask breathlessly, straightening your back, "You- you want me to do it again?"

"What did I say about shutting that pretty mouth of yours, Y/N? If I tell you to do something, do it," he scoffs, acting as though the sight of you cumming didn't turn him on even more, "If you're pathetic enough to do it once I'm sure you'll have no problem doing it again."

Your sensitive clit throbs helplessly as you swallow, white-knuckling the armrest and rocking your hips yet again. The swollen nub continuously brushing Luke's slacks has you choking down whimpers and whines, fearful of Luke's reaction to you making noise. Though, the idea of what he'll do if you don't comply lingers in your hazy mind.

The intermittent bounce of Luke's leg isn't doing you any favors either, little uh uh's leaving your parted lips.

You’re fucking drenched, the thin fabric of your lace underwear doing nothing to keep your arousal from coating Luke's thigh as you roll and rock your hips a bit quicker, your second orgasm creeping up on you, your head tossing back when a low, drawn-out whine leaves your lips, cumming for the second time like a pathetic whore.

And Luke fucking loves every goddamn second of it.

Attempting to calm yourself down from your release, thighs still trembling, Luke tosses the file onto his desk. He hadn't read a damn word of it anyway, not when you’re grinding your pretty little cunt against his thigh like a slut.

Suddenly embarrassed, your cheeks flush a deep crimson shade as you realize what you’ve done. You’ve soaked the fabric of Luke's slacks with your release, your own goddamn boss. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"Don't say another word," he firmly cuts you off, "Get on your fucking knees."

"Why-"

"I'm honestly so fucking tired of listening to you, Y/N," Luke's tone lowers, a scoff leaving his lips, watching as you scramble to the floor. "Gonna shut you up, make good use of that stupid fucking mouth of yours."

Catching sight of the wet patch on his slacks, he nearly groans, ringed fingers fumbling with his belt buckle in record time, desperate for the release of his achingly hard cock. You seem to catch on, widened doey eyes flickering up to Luke's, your hands neatly folded in your lap. Luke pulls his slacks down just enough to allow his length to be exposed, not wanting to show an ounce of vulnerability to you. You don't deserve a sweet intimate moment, you deserve to be fucking ruined.

"Open your mouth," he grunts, hissing as he grasps the base of his cock, your lips parting slowly, the blonde stepping forward and guiding the tip past your lips. "Wanna see you choke on my cock."

He doesn't give you a moment to register his words before he's thrusting fully into your mouth, tip poking the back of your throat and a choking sound emitting from your lips. You scramble to grasp at the backs of his thighs to keep yourself steady. The sight of your sparkly lipgloss coating his cock is so fucking intoxicating and he wonders why he hadn't thought of it sooner.

Using his hands to grasp your hair quite roughly, he continues to fuck into your mouth at a degrading pace, not allowing you to adjust to the forceful movements. Choking and gagging sounds fill the otherwise quiet room, spit dribbling from your lips. "Yeah, you like choking on my cock, Y/N? So much better than hearing you fuckin' talk."

Your nails dig into the fabric of his pants, a grunt leaving Luke's lips as his hips continue thrusting his cock into your mouth. You can barely take all of him, the base nearly untouched. "All you're fuckin' good for, hm?"

And suddenly he's removing himself from your mouth, chest heaving from how fucking wrecked you already look, the small tears pooling your waterline smudging the mascara you'd put on. "As much as I wanna watch you swallow for me," he heaves out, "I wanna feel that pretty fuckin' pussy of yours."

A pathetic whimper leaves your lips, clenching around nothing as you remain on your knees before him, a string of saliva connecting your swollen lips and the reddened, aching tip of Luke's cock. "You want me inside you?" he asks.

You have no words, honestly, the burn left behind in your throat from Luke's forceful thrusts halts you from speaking. Instead, you nod. "No, I want to hear you fuckin' say it, Y/N. I'm not an asshole."

"Yes," you weakly respond, "I want you."

"Good. Take that fuckin' dress off while you're at it."

Your shaky and frail fingers grasp the hemline of your dress hesitantly, eyes flickering between his leaking cock and his firm gaze, pulling the fitted material over your head and tossing it aside. Now sat in nothing but a pair of soaked, white lace panties and your heels, Luke's eyes fall on your bare breasts. "So fuckin' pretty."

"Luke-" you whimper quietly.

"Shut up," his hands reach beneath your arms, pulling you to your feet. Luke reaches around you, large hand swiping the array of documents off of his desk, sending them to the floor with a thud. You release a soft gasp when your bare backside meets the cool wooden desk, "Can't say I've never thought about this."

Luke's hands fall to your hips, gripping the skin roughly, and guiding you down until your back is flush with the desk, legs spread pathetically, displaying your clothed core to him. "God, you're so fucking soaked it's pathetic," he laughs lowly, shaking his head, and trailing a finger along the dampened material, coated in your previous orgasms and current arousal. He sends a soft smack with the back of his hand to your swollen clit, causing a whimper to leave your lips. "You'll let me have you any way I want, huh?"

"Luke-"

"Don't talk, I already know the answer," he raises your legs so your heels are resting on the edge of the desk, fingers ghosting the inside of your thighs teasingly, "Because here you are, spread out on my fucking desk like the whore you are."

"Please-"

"God, you just can't listen, huh?" his hands retreat from your skin, fumbling with his necktie, folding it into a neat little square. "I said I don't wanna hear you, Y/N." leaning over you, the tip of his cock pressing against your clothed core, he forces the folded tie between your lips, gagging you. "There, much better."

Luke works quickly to pull the pathetic excuse for underwear down your legs, tossing them alongside your dress on the floor. His cock twitches at the sight of you, fucking glistening and leaking just for him. He trails two fingers up your wetness, slicking his cock with your arousal, and prodding the tip against you. "Look at me," he says, hovering over you, hands on either side of your head. Hesitantly, you meet his eyes, your own widening, "Wanna watch you take my fucking cock."

You look so fucking pretty all gagged up for him. Running his tongue along his lower lip, he roughly juts his hips forward, instantly bottoming out and a muffled scream leaves your lips at the stretch. The tears that brimmed your eyes previously begin to fall, feeling so full, "Fuck," he hums lowly.

He rocks his hips a few times, watching as your eyes practically roll back into your head. And god does that make him so fucking proud, staring at you as drool slowly dribbles from yourr lips. He halts, roughly tugging the tie from your mouth, fingers gathering the spit and shoving it between your lips. "Don't be messy," he tuts, before placing the tie back, "Already fuckin' droolin' like a whore and I'm barely getting started."

Luke retracts his cock, hands grasping at your hips and flipping your body, the sound of your stomach colliding with the wooden desk echoing through the room. "I don't wanna look at you," he says, palming the skin of your backside before smacking the smooth flesh. He realigns himself with your entrance, one hand splayed on your bare back to hold you in place.

Roughly thrusting inside once again, the moans and muffled choked sobs barely reach Luke's ears, too fucking entranced by the feeling of your tight little cunt taking him so well. "This," he rocks his hips forcefully, "Is fuckin' mine. Anytime I goddamn want it, you're gonna give it to me."

You scramble to grab the opposite edge of Luke's desk, white knuckling it as he forcefully pounds into you, so fucking deep and quick you can barely breathe. "Such a tight fuckin' cunt," he groans, fingernails scraping along your back, "Taking my cock like a good fuckin' slut."

Instinctively you clench around him, eliciting a deep borderline growl from Luke's throat, hand previously raking down your back finding your hair, fisting the strands between his fingers and yanking you backwards until you’re halfway to his chest. You rest your palms flat on the desk, eyes pinched shut in pleasure while he continues fucking into you at an unruly pace.

"Clench again for me," he moans out, feeling the muscles in his stomach tighten, his orgasm slowly beginning to build. You comply, your thighs trembling, clenching as hard as you can. "Fuckin' god," Luke tosses his head back, eyelids fluttering shut in pure bliss.

You choke out another moan around the tie in your mouth, unable to warn the blonde of your third orgasm that's quickly approaching as he continuously pokes the perfect spot so fucking deep inside you’re nearly a drooling mess. The hand not entangled in your hair grips one of your breasts roughly, sending you over the edge in a series of muffled cries. Tears stream down your cheeks, cunt tightening around Luke yet again, the blonde hissing as he feels your release coat his cock, the slick sound of his thrusts growing louder.

"Fuckin' milkin' my cock like a whore," he spits out, grip tightening on your hair as he pulls you closer, thrusting into you impossibly harder. You can't fucking think, you’re a dizzy mess and can hardly form a thought. You can't even feel the drool pooling from the edges of your lips. "Gonna fill up that sweet little cunt of yours and make you mine."

Luke pulls you flush to his chest, your head lolling against his shoulder. Though he isn't one for kissing, he doesn't hesitate to graze his teeth against your exposed neck, sinking them into the supple flesh as his hips begin to stutter, groaning against your neck as he releases inside. You wince at the rough bite on your neck but you’re too spent to care, leaning fully against him as he rocks through his orgasm.

You’re in a daze when he pulls out of you, nearly falling against the desk, the blonde quickly reaching for you to keep you upright. Though he's smug and feeling overly satisfied for ruining you, a swirl in his stomach tells him he needs to make sure you’re alright. He pulls the tie from your mouth, not commenting on the drool spilled from your lips. "Y'okay?"

You can't fucking speak.

Luke's brows furrow with worry, hand delicately grasping your jaw and searching your hazy eyes. Pupils blown out just like his, fresh tears lingering on your cheeks. "Oh, baby," the pet name falls from his lips effortlessly, "C'mon."

Tucking his softening cock into his pants and guiding you away from his desk and towards the couch, he plucks your heels from your feet. Though he'd never in a million years consider aftercare, he's stripping his button down from his broadened frame and slipping your arms inside, buttoning it to cover your exposed body. "Luke," you toss your head back onto the plush couch.

"Hm?" he hums softly.

"I need to- need to clean up," you rasp quietly, a hint of a blush on your cheeks, head reeling from the soreness between your thighs.

"That's what m'here for," he coos sweetly, though the smirk of his lips has you swallowing thickly. His ringed hands trail along your warm and flushed skin, parting your trembling thighs, the sight of his release slowly dribbling out of your sweet cunt nearly has his cock stiffening in his slacks again. "Mm, such a pretty wrecked little pussy."

A gasp leaves your lips as he leans forward, nose brushing your lower stomach, tongue gathering his cum from your sensitive folds. Lapping up every fucking drop, Luke straightens himself out, reaching a hand towards your swollen lips and parting them with his thumb. You’re beyond confused as he tightly grips your jaw, before spitting the contents into your own mouth. Swiping any remnants from his own lips, he narrows his eyes. "Fuckin' swallow."

Clasping your pretty lips shut, you comply, feeling a stir in your stomach when your eyes meet, and swallow.

"My good fuckin' girl."

341 notes · View notes

leviethinsaint · 1 month ago

Text

so into you. lrh

pairing: luke hemmings x fem!reader

summary: luke hemmings, a voice actor you've been working closely with for quite some time, ends up confessing just how into you he really is.

warnings: 18+ only. minors DNI. flirting/flustering, protected smut, degradation, praise kink, slight sir kink, dom/sub undertones, swearing, oral sex (female receiving), mask kink, explicit sexual content.

words: 4,680

a/n: iiiiii cannot express where i came up with this idea. i don't mention explicitly in this fic what video game luke's working on but in my head, it's COD MW3. (i may have a small obsession with ghost. whatever.) but alas, i left this fic alone for like a week and finished it on a whim. enjoy. x

feedback and constructive criticism welcome. requests are open!

Ah, Luke Hemmings, the bane of your existence.

It’s not that you hate him or anything, unless feeling so sick to your stomach because he’s too damn pretty to be working as a voice actor counts as hate, then maybe. But it’s really quite the opposite.

You’ve been working at the video game development studio for almost two years. Your title has changed far too many times, as well as your responsibilities, but you get to see ideas come to life from the loose concept to the console screen so you can’t complain too much.

Right now, you’re in the middle of a contract for a multiplayer war game. It’s a sequel, or a prequel- whatever, it doesn’t really matter. The franchise has been around for ages but they’re always coming up with new content and it’s part of your job to make sure every voice and cgi actor are dressed and ready to perform accordingly.

Even though your manager can be a little overkill, like how he demands any voice actor be in full dress while they’re in the recording booth. It really doesn’t do much for their performance but your manager refuses to listen.

You’re in the middle of skimming through your to-do list for the day. There’s three people who still need to get some lines of dialogue done for the storyline of the video game so it’s your responsibility to make sure they don’t fuck around in the booth all afternoon. First up, and is already late, is none other than Luke.

It doesn’t surprise you. Despite looking like a total diva with his sharp jaw and soft, fluffy blonde curls that seem to be immune to any humidity, always laying so perfectly, he was probably the sweetest guy in the industry you’d ever met. Always polite and charming. Sometimes you think he might be flirting with you but it’s likely he’s just that nice.

A paper cup of branded coffee suddenly invades your vision, blocking your view of the list you’ve been working on all morning. It’s warm and smells like cinnamon, your favorite. Looking up, way way up because he’s impossibly tall, is Luke, with a half-crooked smile and bright blue eyes.

“Mornin’ Miss Y/N,” he says, despite the cheeriness on his face his voice is slightly raspy. You try not to think about it too much. It’s only eight am and you’re stuck listening to Luke in the booth until noon. “Blonde roast with cinnamon. You still drink that, right?”

Skeptically, you take the cup from him. Luke doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest by your hesitance. “Thank you?” It’s meant to be a statement but it slips out as more of a question. “Is this why you’re late, Hemmings?”

A glint of mischief flickers in his eyes. “Why, were you worried about me?”

Your stomach seems to flutter rather easily at his words. Shut up, brain! Luke’s a coworker, stop it. “We’ve only got four hours in the booth and almost fifty lines of dialogue,” You roll your eyes, trying to remain professional. “We need every minute we can get.”

“Fair enough, I’ll go get dressed. Have you got my gear ready?” Luke sips at his own drink and you can smell it from where you stand only a foot away. Chai tea latte with hazelnut. Man has taste.

“Yeah,” You clear your throat, trying to keep your eyes away from the frothy milk of his latte dribbling down the side of his lip. Christ. “Yeah everything’s ready to go. Just get your gear on and meet me in the booth.”

“Aye aye, captain,” The blonde mock-salutes you with a wink, before heading off to his dressing room down the hall. Thankful for the ability to properly breathe again, you quickly shake your head and go inside of the small recording studio and begin to organize the dialogue Luke’s meant to be working on this morning.

It’s almost as if you forget how to operate when Luke steps into the small room. It’s only the two of you today, as the sound technician won’t be in until later but you have a decent grasp on which recorded lines will sound best in the final production.

Luke’s already absurdly tall, well over six feet but with his full gear on he’s pushing halfway to seven feet. With thick combat boots on his feet, and full camo gear covering every inch of his lengthy body. A thick, heavy armor carrier plate is fixed against his chest, and his mask is held loosely in his hand. You force yourself to swallow the thick lump stuck in your throat.

“Can you turn the air on?” Luke asks, oblivious to how you’re struggling to breathe when he looks like that. “M’gonna fuckin’ roast in there if you don’t.”

“Yeah- yeah, sure,” You stumble both verbally and physically, barely managing to catch yourself as you twist behind you to turn the air a little cooler in the small room. It won’t help the flush that’s spreading across every inch of your body. You can’t face him yet, so you pretend like changing the temperature is a little more time consuming than it really is. “You can go ahead whenever.”

The sound booth’s door shuts with a soft click. Your heart’s beating a little hard but at least there’s thick glass separating yourself and Luke now, and once you’re sitting with headphones on you’ll barely be able to see him. God, what a terrible time to remember that stupid masked man fantasy of yours.

Luke does well, as usual, hitting the perfect low pitch for his character that your manager hired him for. He plays the character well, you have to admit, hearing his voice rasped and grovely is almost too much. You lower the volume on the headphones just to spare yourself the embarrassment of getting worked up.

It’s eleven-thirty when he finishes up. Every line of dialogue is near perfect and you’re sure they’ll make production without a hitch, so you have no qualms about turning off the recording light that illuminates the hall outside of the small studio.

You’re in the process of organizing the recorded files for the sound technician to look over when Luke steps out of the booth.

Instead of peeling the mask from his head, he left it on, his gloved hands clasped on the doorframe a few inches above his head. Christ, he looks like he stepped out of a fairly inappropriate fantasy dream you could conjure up after a glass or two of wine. “Even got time to spare.”

You can tell Luke’s smirking beneath the black and white mask, if the glimmer in his baby blue eyes is anything to go by. You just blink, too dumb to come up with anything to say, pulling the headphones to rest around your neck. “Uh- you- you did great.”

“Thanks, Miss Y/N,” his head cocks, helmet almost knocking into the side of the door frame but Luke doesn’t notice. “I love when you compliment me. I know you mean it.”

Your cheeks feel hot. It’s too warm in here, that’s all. Maybe the air isn’t working or something. “I do mean it,” you say softly. “You’re a great voice actor. I’d be lying if I said otherwise.”

Luke drops his hands from the door frame, instead leaning against it, his eyes still fixed on you. “You okay over there? You look a bit flushed.”

“M’fine sir- Luke,” You quickly clear your throat, hoping Luke hadn’t caught your stupid slip up. How fucking embarrassing, do you not have a filter? Suddenly a man all dressed up in gear and a mask has you calling him sir? Get a grip!

“Sir?” Luke echoes, his voice syrupy sweet and laced with curiosity. “That’s a new one. Usually all I get from you is Hemmings. I like that, you should call me sir more often.”

You want to look away but it’s impossible. Like a damn car crash, your eyes are fixated on the tall man. It’s fucking sinful how good he looks like that. “It was- it was nothing, don’t read into it.” You deflect.

“Yeah, okay,” Luke says sarcastically, followed up by a slow, dramatic sigh. “It’s a shame, though. Figured you’d finally admit you’re into me so I can stop pining after you in silence.”

Your eyes widen. “What?”

A low laugh erupts from Luke’s chest. “Don’t tell me you’re that oblivious, Y/N. I’ve been obsessed with you since day one. Why do you think we’re always working together?”

“My manager said I’m doing well-“

“That was after I gave him season passes to every game the Dodgers play, sweetheart. Told him I won’t work for him unless m’with you.”

Your brows knit in confusion. Has your growth within your position all been at Luke’s doing? You’ve been working with him nearly as long as you’ve been with the company. And suddenly it all makes sense.

Why your manager never seemed to care what you’ve been working so hard for, complimenting you regardless of any efforts shown to him. Why he doesn’t hang around the studio anymore to micromanage your every move.

You stand abruptly. “You asshole!” The words escape without a second thought. “You bribed my manager so you could work with me? That’s- that’s…”

“I thought you’d be flattered,” Luke says, almost somberly but you know he’s anything but. He’s a voice actor for crying out loud, he can make himself sound however he wants, regardless if it’s real. “What’s the big deal anyway? You have almost total freedom and you’re stuck with me all the time. It’s a win-win.”

Whatever attraction you have towards Luke is pushed to the back burner of your mind. Yeah, you have a stupid crush on him but how could he meddle with your job like that? The two of you aren’t even friends, he had no right.

“That wasn’t your decision to make. Who knows now if I’m doing well because of me or because of you? Terry could be spewing bullshit about my performance reviews to keep you happy!”

“You’re being dramatic,” Luke drones lazily. “Of course you’re doing well because of you. All I did was keep us working together, s’not like I fucking paid Terry off to give you a promotion.”

“I don’t know that!” You yell frustratedly, fists balling at your sides. “God- you- take that fucking mask off, would you?”

Luke remains still. “Now why would I do that?” he asks lowly, stepping toward you. Your shoulders draw inward, despite your attempt to keep confident. “Clearly it’s distracting you. Which I think is working in my favor.”

“It’s not.” You mutter weakly.

“Liars aren’t cute,” Luke tuts. “What, does my mask get you all hot and bothered, Miss Y/N? Huh? Because I’m bigger than you? Because I can do anything I want to you and you can’t stop me?”

“Luke-“

“Tell me I’m wrong, Y/N,” his voice impossibly lowers, until it’s a hushed rasp, his chest only a mere few inches from yours. Craning your neck to look up at him easily makes you weak in the knees. You know he’s right and you can’t find the words to tell him otherwise. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

Your lip quivers nervously. The words are right there, the lie you could easily spew but it won’t make it off of your tongue. His eyes are too dark to resist, swirls of pretty blue swallowed by his pupils. Blown out and expectant. “You..”

“You can’t, can you? Because you know I’m right,” Luke continues, clearly feeding off of the nerves you’re trying to swallow down. It’s written all over your face, you’re sure of it. Like a book printed in size twenty bold font. “I’m not stupid, Y/N. I see the way you look at me. I watch you quiver every time I put my gear on,”

Nothing escapes you except a helpless, trembling whimper. One of Luke’s gloved hands slowly raises to push a strand of loose hair behind your ear. Your eyes are nearly brimming with tears of frustration, of how badly you’re ready to give in to him, of how stupid you feel, wet and desperate between your thighs. It’s the mask, you try to tell yourself, but it’s useless because you know damn well it’s a lie.

It isn’t the mask, rather the person behind it. Luke’s probably the most attractive person you’ve met in a long time, it was inevitable you’d end up crushing on him, but when he’s in full dress you can’t deny there’s something inside of you that seems to light a flame inside of you that’s impossible to put out.

“What is it you like so much, hm?” Luke’s head cocks curiously, his cloudy eyes slowly raking over your body. You can tell he’s smirking beneath the mask at how tightly your hands are balled into fists at your sides, holding yourself back from doing something you shouldn’t. “You know what I think? I think you like giving up control. Obeying. Submitting. And when I’m dressed like this you really have no choice but to listen to me.”

“Luke..” your lips weakly spew the man’s name out. He seems to hum in content, he knows you’re close to giving in. He wants to push you over that line. Cross it with no shame. “I..”

Luke’s gloved hand grasps your jaw, firmly but delicately, so much so that it makes your head feel dizzy. “Speak up,” he demands lowly. “Tell me what you want.”

“I..” You can hardly meet his eyes. It’s pathetic of you, trembling like this and stuttering over yourself. Luke knows it too. “I want.. you.”

“Me?” He echoes, but it sounds a little demeaning the way it falls from his mouth. “You’re not giving me much to work with here, Y/N. Better spit it out.”

“I.. want..” Your eyes threaten to fall shut. You’ve never really been confident when it comes to sex but there’s something about the way Luke’s speaking to you that makes you feel a bit bold. Maybe it’s a leap but fuck, you won’t know unless you try.

With a trembling, hesitant hand, you grasp Luke’s unoccupied wrist, slowly drawing his hand downwards until it’s caressing your clothed core. “You. Please.”

Luke actually whimpers. It could easily be mistaken for a breathy sigh but you’ve been listening to this man’s every vocality for years, you know nearly every noise he can make. “Christ, Y/N,” It’s as if he wasn’t expecting your bold move. “I swear to God I’ll fuck you right here. I will, if you’ll let me.”

“Yeah- yes,” You frantically nod, too dizzy to provide any other words of confirmation. It’s all Luke needs, really, before he’s pressing his hand harder against your damp underwear, warm and inviting, he swears he can almost feel your arousal through his glove. “Luke, please.”

“Yeah, m’gonna take care of you, promise,” Luke releases your jaw, working to strip his gloves from his hands. You almost whimper from the loss of contact but you know what’s coming next is far better than a measly touch outside of your pants. “Gonna be a good girl for me, Y/N?”

You whimper out something along the lines of “yes” that Luke seems to be satisfied with because he’s planting a firm hand on your shoulder and spinning you around, using his grip to shove your body forward until your palms collide with the sound booth’s desk. Careful to avoid pressing any buttons you shouldn’t, you adjust yourself slightly, breaths heavy as Luke shuffles behind you.

You can feel how hard he is through the thick, camo pants he’s wearing, cock strained against the fabric and digging into your backside. Your toes curl inside of your shoes. He feels big. You feel Luke’s fingers tease at the waistband of your jeans. “Can I?”

“Yes- fuck,” You mutter through gritted teeth. There isn’t anything for you to properly hold on to while Luke’s fingers work to unbutton and unzip your jeans, before shimmying them down your hips and the swell of your ass, leaving them pooled just above your knees.

“Don’t have a lot of time, Y/N, Mark’s up next isn’t he?” Luke slowly teases his fingers along the dampened material of your underwear, resulting in the soft arch of your back as your hips move closer to him. “Such a shame. The things I’d do for a taste of that pretty pussy..”

“Luke, can you just-“ You’re filled to the brim with frustration, desperately wet and on the edge of bratty at the amount of time Luke’s wasting. He seems to understand easily, because a hand comes down on your left cheek, leaving a pretty little pink handprint on your skin.

“Don’t be a fuckin’ brat,” Luke says around a scoff, sliding your underwear down to join your jeans a little rougher than necessary. “Just for that, m’gonna fuckin’ do it. Don’t care if Mark comes in here to see my tongue deep inside your needy cunt.”

Luke’s words are sent straight to your core, stupidly wet and braindead from how badly you’re soaking the skin between your thighs. You hear the sound of Luke’s knees hitting the carpeted floor, the sound of his mask shuffling and the feeling of his warm breath on your flushed skin.

Luke’s thumbs sink into your flesh easily, spreading you fully for him, your body falling further forward and ass in the air. You know you’re glistening pathetically, all for a hot blonde voice actor in some stupid war gear. “Y/N, you’re fuckin’ drenched. Holy shit,” Luke mumbles in disbelief. “You’re so goddamn pretty.”

You aren’t sure if Luke’s going to continue speaking but it doesn’t matter, his tongue’s busy trailing a fat, long stripe along your heat. Christ, his tongue is so goddamn warm, humming happily against you as he works, alternating between suckling your clit between his teeth and nuzzling his nose against you. Like he just can’t get enough.

Blindly, your hand slips and without either of you being aware, the recording light outside of the small room has been illuminated.

“You taste so fucking good, Y/N. So goddamn good,” He hums again before diving back in, practically fucking his tongue inside of you every which way, like he’s claiming you and drawing his name with every lick. You let out a soft, helpless cry when his teeth graze your clit again. “Could eat your pretty pussy for hours, baby. Wanna spread you out on my bed like a fuckin’ feast.”

“Luke-“ Your voice wobbles, a desperate breath following. You’re so fucking lightheaded it’s insane, all you crave is Luke inside of you. “Luke, please. Please fuck me.”

“Yeah baby, gonna fuck you,” Luke presses a quick, messy kiss against your clit before he pulls back, running his tongue along his lips to gather any excess. You don’t hear him slip the mask back on but you definitely hear his belt unbuckle, along with the fly of his camo pants. “Look at you, what a fuckin’ dream. Bent over and fuckin’ soaked, begging for my cock.”

The sound of Luke tearing a condom packet open with his teeth catches your attention. You hardly have enough strength to look over your shoulder but he’s already rolling the latex over his dick that’s just out of your view. “Where did you get-“ You don’t get to finish your sentence because the words die out in your throat, replaced with a strangled gasp as you feel the head of Luke’s cock slowly trail up your wetness. “Oh, fuck.”

Luke makes a smug, pleased sound before slowly pressing inside of you. And yeah, fuck, he’s definitely bigger than anyone you’ve slept with. Which, honestly, hasn’t been very many people. “Yeah, that’s it,” You hear Luke sigh behind you, hands attaching to your hips as he continues to feed his dick further inside. “Fuck, you’re swallowing my cock up. So desperate for it, aren’t you?”

It’s almost too much. Your eyes pinch shut, teeth sinking into your lower lip to keep the tears at bay. He’s stretching you out so good every inch he sinks inside, until he’s buried to the hilt and stills his hips. “Luke.. fuck, you’re- you’re big.”

You hear Luke chuckle behind you. His fingertips press harder into your hips. “What’s the point of being so cocky if I don’t have anything to show for it?” he says, amused but a little breathless. He’s just as affected by your tight warmth as you are by his sizable dick. “Don’t tell me it’s too much for you, Y/N. You’re a big girl, I know you can take it.”

“Just.. give me a minute?”

“We don’t have enough time, baby,” Luke says soothingly, almost somberly. “I promise you’ll get used to it.”

You intake a sharp, quick breath as Luke withdraws his hips. It’s definitely too big. There’s no way you’ll be able to fuck anyone ever again without remembering how full Luke made you feel.

Then Luke snaps his hips forward and the tears you were desperately trying to hold back fall freely down your cheeks. A borderline scream falls from your mouth and you tighten around his dick, only drawing a groan deep from Luke’s throat as he begins thrusting in a steady, needy rhythm.

So quick and forceful that the sound of his hips snapping against your backside echoes the sound room. So desperate that your body falls forward, chest splayed against the desk and Luke’s carrier plate wedged into your back, his masked breaths deep and warm on your neck. You cry out from the new angle, hitting that perfect spot inside of you. “Oh fuck- Luke- god- right there, fuck-“

“Yeah?” Luke asks in a low moan, digging his blunt fingernails into your waist as his thrusts grow more determined and quick, your body rucking upwards from his forceful movements. All you can do is wail and whine against the desk helplessly. “God, Y/N, you feel so good wrapped around my cock. Lettin’ me fuck you, such a good girl.”

Your position is definitely uncomfortable but you’re too cockdrunk to even care. You know you’ll cum soon, especially when Luke’s fucking you at such a brutal pace there’s a tingling that’s spreading from your toes all the way to your spine. You clench around Luke’s cock, only soaking your thighs further as more arousal coats his covered length.

“Baby, fuck,” Luke’s voice is strained, one hand detaching from your hip to grab at your hair, fisting the strands between his fingers, craning your neck upwards until his masked mouth settles near your ear. “You’re fuckin’ soakin’ my cock, Y/N. Wonder what Mark would think if he found me buried in this sweet little pussy, huh? Think he’d be jealous? Of how desperate you are for me?”

“Oh my god-“ You know it’s coming, your legs feel like static and your head is spinning. Your vision’s beginning to blur as the beginning of your orgasm starts to crash over you. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, Luke-“

“Call me sir,” He’s fucking relentless, pounding into you like he’s got something to prove. It’s messy and slippery and wet, echoing the small room. “Call me sir and you can cum, Y/N.”

“Oh sir, oh my god sir-“

“Come on baby, that’s it, cum all over my cock,” Luke coaxes you, breathing warmly against the skin of your neck. Your nails scratch desperately on the desk as you finally let go, letting out a long string of pleading moans as you finish, clenching tightly around him. “Oh christ- Y/N- yeah, that’s my good girl.”

“Oh my god..” Luke doesn’t stop even after you’ve finished, snapping his hips more forcefully than before.

“Fuck, gonna cum,” Luke pants out. “Wanna cum all over your pretty face. Can I? Please baby, want it so bad.”

“Ye-yeah,” You half mumble, half moan.

Your body’s in Luke’s hands as he quickly slips out of you, discarding the condom and wrapping a hand around himself, helping you slink back until you’re on your knees. Confused, you’re unable to question why you’re facing the wrong way until Luke’s hand is on your jaw and tilting your head backwards.

And that’s a fucking view. It’s upside down, Luke’s masked face staring down at you as his hand works furiously over his leaking, hard cock, groaning and panting. “Fuck, open your mouth.”

You comply, happily letting your tongue fall flat over your lower lip, eyelashes fluttering until you hear a low, guttural groan from Luke’s throat, painting your cheeks and lips and eyelashes in pretty ropes of milky white.

“Ohhh fuck,” Luke’s strokes slow, milking himself until every last drop is coating some part of your face. “Fuck Y/N… you look so goddamn pretty covered in my cum.”

What doesn’t stay on your face ends up dribbling onto your t-shirt. You don’t really care at the moment, fucked dumb as you curiously swipe your tongue along anywhere you can reach to taste Luke’s release. You let out a soft, pleased and rasped, “Thank you, sir.”

Luke finds some tissues to clean you up, helping you slide your underwear and jeans back on. Once you’ve regained your breath, and began the short trip back to reality, you feel your cheeks grow stupidly hot. Luke slips his mask off.

“Where the hell is Mark?” he asks curiously.

“That’s what you’re worried about?” You ask in a soft voice. You really want to ask what this means, the two of you hooking up like this. Was he actually into you or using that as an excuse to get in your pants?

“He’s like thirty minutes late,” Luke shrugs, running a hand through his flattened curls. “Why? What’re you worried about?”

Your mouth clasps shut. “Nothing, it doesn’t matter,” You turn away, busying yourself with the paperwork you’d brought inside with you. “I have more recording sessions to do. And you probably have somewhere to be.”

“Y/N..” Luke frowns.

“What?” You snap unintentionally, turning to face Luke with narrowed eyes. “What, Luke?”

“This wasn’t like..” he trails off, looking a bit nervous. It almost makes you feel bad for snapping at him like that. “A one-time thing for me, Y/N. I.. I’m into you.”

“Really?” You ask softly. “You’re not just saying that because I let you.. fuck me?”

“No,” Luke slips out a short chuckle, stepping towards you. “No, I told you m’obsessed with you. This only makes it worse. You’re not getting rid of me.”

“We can talk about this after my recording sessions, alright Hemmings?” Your lips lift into a soft, almost shy smile. Luke does the same, his eyes hopeful.

“Maybe over dinner?” He asks.

“Pick me up at six.” You counter.

Luke dips to press a soft kiss against your cheek. “Text me your address. I’ll go figure out where Mark is and kick his ass for being late.”

You roll your eyes. “If he would’ve been on time that wouldn’t have ended well for both of us, Hemmings,” Luke’s halfway out the door, pausing and turning to you with a sly grin. “What? What is it?”

“Someone left the recording light on. No wonder Mark didn’t bother,” Luke chuckles, amused. “Hey.. I wonder what else we did by accident..” His eyes flicker towards the sound table’s knobs and buttons, your own widening in fear. Which switches were off before? You hadn’t paid attention to anything when your chest was pressed against it. Fuck, what if you-

You turn to reprimand Luke for putting that thought into your head but he’s gone. Before you text Mark, letting him know that you’re available to record, you double check the recording logs for anything out of the ordinary. With pink cheeks, you text Luke your address and a vague note.

you: [123 Main St]

you: also.. seems we might’ve had an accident.

you: file.mp3

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leviethinsaint · 1 month ago

Note

sephiroth forcing himself on a girlie thats too shy to talk to him?

tw: noncon, power imbalance, size difference, humiliation, degradation, semi-public sex, misogyny, victim blaming, verbal abuse

All characters depicted are 18+

Sephiroth is well aware of his little fanclub of swooning fangirls who are all head over heals in love with him, he doesn't hate it, but he certainly doesn't like it either, he treats their existence with the same passive indifference that one would treat ants on a sidewalk, uncaring if they are there or not, Sephiroth has about as many love confessions under his belt as he does inches of hair on his head, but none of these women interest him very much.

That is the case for a while until his keen senses pick up on someone following him, he initially assumes it's just Hojo coming to pester him again, or Zack coming to ask him more idiotic questions, but instead he catches a glimpse of a girl peeking at him from around the corner, only to quickly hide when he turns around. Being a trained SOLIDER from birth, Sephiroth immediately assumes hostile intent from her, what other reason would she have to follow him whilst concealing her presence?

He'll almost immediately confront her, although not in a brutish manner, no, a man like Sephiroth is one to use cold intimidation over such savage tactics. He'll corner the little spy rather quickly, placing his gloved hand on the wall next to her head as he asks her what exactly she thinks she's doing. He'll watch as she flounders about like a fish on land, struggling to get a single word out as her face turns a bright red, that when Sephiroth will notice a very interesting looking note clutched to her chest.

Sephiroth will pluck the note from her hands the moment he sees it, holding it out of her reach with his superior height, ignoring her protests and pleas as he begins to read it, sneering at the flowery words and shoddy handwriting, it's pitiful how little effort she put into confessing her silly feelings to one as important as Sephiroth. He'll make it clear that her little crush is nothing but delusional wishful thinking, but that won't stop him from taking advantage of it, and of her.

"Oh... How cute. Did you really think a few scribbles on paper would be enough to win me over? How pathetic. But I suppose I can give you what you so clearly want..."

He'll pay no mind to her protests as he rips her shirt open right on the spot, Sephiroth doesn't see why she's protesting, she said she likes him, and now she doesn't? Are all woman this indecisive? Sephiroth has never really understood women, or men either for that matter, he's always had trouble understanding those beneath him, but none of that matters to him now, all that matters is giving this cute little stalker exactly what she deserves.

Sephiroth isn't gentle with her at all, it's just not in his nature to treat anyone with kindness, not even an innocent young woman who's only crime is having a crush. He'll cover her mouth with a large leather clad hand as his hips snap into her's from behind, fucking her just around the corner of the hallway and in the blind spot of the many security cameras in Shinra's hallways.

Despite forcing her to be silent, Sephiroth won't do the same, instead he'll whisper venomous insults into her ear, telling her that she's no different than his other admirers, that this is the most attention any man would deign to give her, and how this is what she wanted from him, so she should be grateful, he's practically a saint for humoring her pitifully misguided affection towards him, an affection that definitely won't replace after this encounter, instead being replaced with fear.

He'll be finished with her rather quickly, as if his body itself is in a hurry to be done with her, Sephiroth won't care if he cums directly inside her, even if he doesn't knock her up, she should be grateful for his attention and his seed, he doesn't give that to just anyone, only the shy little brats who don't know how to talk to people like a big girl.

"Hmpf, I have no more use for you. Now go back to your little hovel like a good girl, unless you want more of my attentions, that is..."

Sephiroth will watch her leave without another word, showing faint amusement at the sight of her limping away, her pussy leaking his semen as she does. He finds her very amusing, in fact he might even consider using his high standing in Shinra to get her alone again.

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leviethinsaint · 1 month ago

Note

Sephiroth obsessed with clouds little sister gets jealous and noncons her, maybe she's a virgin still too

tw: noncon, age difference, size difference, revenge sex, dacryphilia, kidnapping, virginity loss, obsession, degradation

All characters depicted are 18+

Sephiroth despises Cloud, but that doesn't stop him from having a twisted obsession with the young man, ever since he burned down Nibelheim and seemingly killed the boy's family, but when Sephiroth finds out that Cloud has a younger sister who survived the Nibelheim incident, Sephiroth knows that he's just found his newest obsession.

Sephiroth is the ultimate SOLIDER and a force of nature in his own right, so he can easily find the weak civilian girl who is living all on her own, without any big strong elder brother to protect her from whatever monsters might be out there looking for her.

His sudden appearance at her door is quite the shock to the girl, there isn't a single person in the entire world who doesn't know who Sephiroth is, so the fact he's now at her door greatly confuses and scares her, but before she can even ask why he's there, Sephiroth is already roughly grabbing the poor girl.

Sephiroth is an incredibly strong and tall man, towering over almost every human he encounters, so it's as easy as crushing an ant underboot for him to hold her down and tear off her clothes, and he'll let his intentions and reasons for what he's doing be known to her very quickly.

"Dying in that fire would have been a merciful fate for you, little insect. Now look at you, completely at my mercy, how sad..."

Sephiroth doesn't have a lot of experience with more human things such as sex and closeness despite his slew of admirers, he knows what sex is, but to him it's just a way to degrade and assert dominance over people, and that is exactly what Sephiroth is going to do to her.

The SOLIDER isn't the slightest bit gentle when he fucks her, why would he be? She's a bug while he's practically a god among men, humans like her only exist for his ends, and right now his end is getting off and hurting Cloud via his sister, a goal he won't lose sight of even when he's balls deep in the struggling girl and feeling his skin against her own.

Sephiroth isn't completely immune to arousal however, he is a man after all, and he can't deny the way his cock throbs and leaks inside of her at the sensation of her virginity giving way to his fat cock, or the way his hips speed up slightly when he catches sight of tears streaming down her pretty little face, he makes sure to commit all those lovely sights to memory.

He wants to degrade the young woman as much as possible simply for the crime of existing as his enemy's beloved sister, so he's going to keep her as his cumdump for quite some time, forcing her to fulfil the purpose that he believes all humans serve; being useful to him and his ends.

"You're pathetic, just like that dear brother of yours. But fortunately for the both of us, you're never going to see that useless boy ever again, you belong to me now."

Sephiroth finds himself rather entertained by his newest toy, especially due to her resemblance to his arch nemesis, but his amusement with her doesn't save her from his wrath, because Sephiroth will discard of her the moment she isn't fun to play with anymore.

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leviethinsaint · 1 month ago

Text

what now?

character: dabi | todoroki touya

genre: smut + angst

notes: eeeee happy birthday dabi!!! sorry i’m a day late, and sorry i keep writing angst for your birthday. this piece is set directly after dabi’s touya reveal, in that dingy little safe house he seems to love so much! please heed the warnings below and stay safe!

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, rough sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, dom/sub dynamics, use of master/owner/sir, fem!reader, minimal prep, biting, branding, blood, the piece switches between both dabi and touya as names, size kink + size difference, spanking, objectification, degradation + dumbification, a lil bit of praise, dabi’s pretty mean when he’s fucking, dabi carries reader, toxic relationship, dacryphilia, choking

words: 8.8k

It’s dark by the time he returns, reeking of charred flesh and ash. He had stashed you away in a decaying little safe house—a place no one else knew about, a place that was his and his alone—and had told you to wait for him. He had promised he’d return to you, no matter how long it took, no matter what happened, he’d be back, pinky swear.

Touya never breaks his pinky swears. Dabi might, though.

You had seen his video. You had been watching the news just like he told you to, anxious, waiting for any sign or indication of trouble, of terror, but the heat and the dust had been too much for the news cameras to penetrate, and there had been no reports of casualties on either side.

Yet.

It’s astonishing to think that the whole world knows his name now—his true name, the one buried in his blood and his bones, the one staining his soul, the one he can’t snuff out, no matter how hard he tries. You remember the first time he told it to you.

“Touya.”

He had said suddenly, randomly, while laying in bed with you one night back at the League’s hideout—back before all of this was set in motion, back when there was just the gentle clink of glass sounding beneath the floorboards, followed by a muddled curse and the rapid mashing of plastic buttons.

It was muttered out in the dead of the night, when the wind was stagnant and the moonlight shimmered through grimy windows, brilliance of the beams diffused by the dirt, turning everything a hazy silver, glinting off his stitches.

“Hmm?”

“That’s my real name. Touya.”

“Touya,” you had murmured to yourself, rolling the letters around on your tongue, allowing them to seep into your flesh. “It’s beautiful.”

“Todoroki Touya.”

Oh.

“It’s still beautiful,” you said softly, after several moments of silence, feeling Dabi melt beneath your words, tender yet resolute. “Even if the man who gave it to you isn’t.”

“Yeah,” he had responded, though his voice had sounded weird to his ears; odd, off, broken. “Fuck that guy.”

And that had been it. You hadn’t made a big deal about it, or pushed him to tell you more, or badgered him with questions and curiosities about his past. You had just accepted it and continued on.

He had offered up shards of information over the next few months, always murmured out in the dead of night, always a piece and never a whole, always something too jagged to fit with any of the other pieces of his jigsaw he had gifted you.

But it didn’t matter. Who he was, his past, the name he carries around and DNA twined inside his body—none of it mattered. He was, and will always be, the man you love, irregardless of the name he was born into, and the curse it bears.

The harsh unlatching of that decrepit painting startles you from your stewing thoughts, your gaze snapping toward the noise just in time to catch Dabi crawling through the trick window, entrance hidden behind the heavy gilded frame.

Your legs toss themselves off the fraying couch the instant his gaze meets yours, heart kickstarting thick bouts of adrenaline to rush through your veins, footsteps keeping time with the tattered exhales each bang of your heart sends barrelling up your throat, body colliding into his only a moment later.

He catches you with ease, laughing loudly as he sweeps you from the floor, strong arms locked at the wrists around your lower back. Instinctively, your ankles hook together at the base of his spine, fingers immediately wandering into the dirty hair at the nape of his neck, whole body wound around his own.

He’s still laughing, bright and breathless and so, so beautiful, even as he crushes his lips to yours, even as your tongue pries past his teeth and slams against his own. It spills down your throat in warm vibrations and you swallow it readily, greedily, hands sinking further into tufts of ink-tinged ivory and twining the strands around your knuckles, desperate to tug him closer.

The tang of death stings your tongue, earth and copper and smoke, so poignant you swear you can taste their screams, those who lost their lives to his flames and Machia’s feet and the rubble left in their wake, but you don’t care.

You don’t care, because he’s here, he’s home, he’s safe and back in your arms, with his teeth clacking against yours and his spit flooding your mouth and his unruly little giggles consistently breaking the flow of your lips.

“Did you see it? Huh? Did you see it?” he hurls the words into your mouth, lips still mashed against your own but spread in a smile, sapphire eyes twinkling.

“I did,” you confirm with a nod, tips of your noses nudging. “I did, it was brilliant; you were brilliant, baby.”

“I know,” he snickers, foreheads knocking together, breath wafting in small, ragged pants across your face as his feet begin to move, unable to stand still. “It couldn’t have gone more perfect, I swear to fuckin’ Christ. It was—It was better than I could’ve ever imagined. I can’t even believe it.”

Words continue to tumble from his lips in excited gasps as he twirls in wide lopsided circles slow and careless around the decaying little safe house, his boots conjuring small puffs of dust beneath their soles.

“I wish you could’ve been there, baby, honest. I wish you could’ve seen that fucker’s face, it was fuckin’ priceless, and—Oh! Fuck, how could I forget the best part!”

Halting his whirling, he pulls back to look at you more resolutely, as if he has to see the whole picture, sapphire darting around your face all wild and erratic, his smile spreading impossibly wider; uncanny, inhuman, eyes glowing with the thrill of the secret he’s about to spill.

“Shouto was there, too! How much happier could a coincidence get!”

“Shouto?”

“I wasn’t expecting him to be there, but seriously, it was the cherry on top.”

His feet begin to move again, resuming his impromptu dance number, adrenaline thrumming in his veins, overflowing from his orifices—smile stretching, chest swelling.

“His presence is what really made it spectacular, you know? Sure, dad was broken, but Shouto…” Dabi shakes his head. “Little baby Shouto was knocked off his fucking feet.”

“Oh, I can only imagine…”

…How horrifying of a realization it must’ve been; how terrifying it must’ve felt to encounter your father’s worst mistake in the breathing, bloodied flesh.

“I doubt he even remembers me—” Dabi continues, “he was only five or so when I died; he barely knew me at all.” He laughs, but it sounds tangled, caught on something buried in his throat. “Imagine that! Your big brother, only ever a ghost haunting your life, back from the grave!”

“I’m sure he was very shocked,” you giggle, pressing your forehead to his again, fingers combing through the hair at the back of his skull.

“Shocked? Baby, he was beyond shocked. He was—He was—I don’t even have a word for it!”

Another laugh spills from his lips, jagged and squeaky and full of razors.

And, oh, how breathtakingly beautiful genuine happiness looks on him, even if it’s tinted with derangement—the edges of his smile a little too sharp, the glint in his eye a little too vicious.

“The whole thing sounds magnificent,” you admit, soft and genuine, lips brushing his own. “I’m so happy it went so well.”

“It was perfect,” he gushes in a sigh. “The only way it could’ve been any more perfect is if mom, Yumi, and Natsu were there—but I’m sure they all caught the broadcast.”

You’re sure they did, too. That news programme had been playing on every major screen across the entirety of Japan; you’d have to be buried beneath a rock to have missed it.

He’s still babbling, feet still hopping and skipping around with you cradled tightly to his chest as the anticipation of his return finally wears off, clears from your system, and you take a real, good look at him.

And your heart sinks.

New burns have bubbled up on his cheeks, leaving only a sliver of skin between them and the scars below his eyes. Staples have snapped in half, hanging precariously from chunks of dead flayed flesh, their broken edges tinged an ugly black, burnt by Todoroki flames. Speckles of crimson are splattered artfully across his hair—though whether they belong to him or someone else, it’s hard to tell—the small remaining patches of healthy skin marred by dried black dye.

“Baby,” you breathe, struggling to keep your smile from trembling, struggling to keep concern from seeping into your voice. “You’re filthy.”

“Yeah, you should’a saw the other guy!” he giggles at his own joke, strident and sticky in his throat, but his smile is still so bright.

“And you’re hurt.”

He blows a dismissive breath from between his lips. “Can barely feel a thing, though—and I’m not even rolling right now!”

“Still,” you say, a frown beginning to weight the corners of your grin. “You should let me clean you up.”

“But it isn’t even painful.”

“Still,” you repeat, tender fingers brushing strands of white back from his forehead. “I want to clean you up.”

Begrudgingly, he allows it, sat on the closed toilet lid and continuing to chatter on as you tend to his wounds, words bubbling up on breathless excitement, massive smile still slapped, almost uncomfortably so, across his face.

Oxygen keeps escaping him before he finishes his sentences, everything bouncy and enthusiastic, and it’s such a stark contrast to the Dabi you’re used to, with his languid apathetic drawl and unhurried, uninterested speech.

And despite the subject matter, it’s nice, it’s cute.

He tells you about his father’s paralyzation and the tears in Shouto’s eyes and the horrified panic coating their faces as careful fingers dab and wipe and smear, meticulous in their task, devoted to their cause, your head nodding along with his endless recounter, emitting the perfectly placed ooh’s and mhmm’s, asking questions when the opportunities present themselves.

And even though you love seeing him this way, full of pure joy and exhilaration, you can’t quite kill the question sprouting in the depths of your mind, chewing on the back of your brain.

What now?

It’s on the tip of your tongue, searing your tastebuds, begging to be spoken. You try to swallow it down, but it claws at the back of your tongue, clinging, curling up in your throat and refusing to be forgotten.

What now? What’s going to happen now that Enji knows of his existence? What’s going to happen the next time he encounters his eldest child, swathed in the flames he once cherished so dearly, praised so hopefully, eating away at his boy as his hatred burns higher, blazes brighter, consumes his blood and flesh and bones and hopefully swallows down the monster that bred him in the process?

Will there even be anything left at all? Of either of them?

Does Dabi even care? Does Touya?

You know he’s still in there, despite the fact that his heart’s been corroded by the bitterness that’s been festering inside of him for eleven years—you’ve seen him.

You’ve seen him, trailing along with Toga, causticity eating at his teeth as he spits that she’s fucking stupid, this is so fucking stupid, but allowing himself to be led anyway, zero resistance as her tiny hands tug him along behind her bouncing form, feet following willingly.

You’ve seen him, meticulously picking through the glass bowls at the League’s small Halloween get together, checking and then double checking that everyone’s favourite candy is there, growling that he really doesn’t give a fuck, actually, he’s just looking for his own all the while, despite the fact that his fingers have skipped over that particular chocolate bar several times.

You’ve seen him, on those nights where Tomura just can’t get to sleep, sprawled out on the couch in the early hours of the morning, dirty boots an inch from Tomura’s crossed legs, staring blankly at his phone and waving Kurogiri off with a go to bed already, old man.

So what now?

“He tried to cool me down.”

The sudden switch to a quiet, monotonous voice snaps you from your tangle of thoughts, eyes refocusing on Dabi’s face, realizing you’ve rubbed a streak of his cheek near raw.

“What?”

“Shouto. He tried to cool me down. With his ice.” A pause, a drop of blood, balancing precariously on his lash line. “Like…Like how mom used to.”

His Adams apple bobs with the heft of a thick swallow, his eyes blank and unblinking, staring at your shoulder.

The blood in your veins runs frigid, hand held rigid and hovering over his wounds.

“During the fight?”

His gaze stays fixed on that spot as he nods, slowly, just once.

“I was overheating, and he…”

Another beat of silence passes, the sound of your own breathing echoing in your ears, harsh and fast with the rapid beating of your heart. The blood collecting along his lashes finally overflows, escaping their confines to pool in the crinkles of dead skin and coat gold in crimson.

“Hey,” you murmur, so gentle, so soft it inspires a second wave of blood, dainty hands cupping his jaw and tilting his face to yours.

Thumbs swipe through the thick streams of scarlet trickling down his cheeks, smearing bright strokes across healthy skin. His eyes, red and glazed but tearless, hold yours for a moment, his nostrils twitching twice.

Beneath your palms, the hinges of his jaw flex with another dense swallow, warped smile wobbling a little.

“Whatever,” he says, voice less than an octave off from normal. “Doesn’t matter, not important.”

It does, you want to say. It is, you want to insist—

“All I want to do now is celebrate the best day of my life with the love of my life.”

Saliva pools beneath your tongue, the threat of tears thick in your throat.

“Touya…” your eyes search his face, worry woven into the wrinkles between your furrowed brow. “It—”

“Please,” he whispers, so quiet it’s barely more than a wisp of air, his eyes closing briefly for a moment as he gathers himself, lids lifting a second later. “Let me have this.”

You want to, you so desperately want to—want to allow him this space to be happy, unfiltered and unadulterated, even in all of it’s unhinged, brainsick fervour. You don’t want to ruin this for him, the self-proclaimed Best Day of His Life, but…

What now?

It’s nipping at your lips, leaving them tingling and twitching, but you press your tongue to the roof of your mouth and suck, melting the question in the smothering heat.

Now is not the time to ask. You will save this question, will fold it into a neat little shape and stash it away in your stomach, where it will rage and roar and demand to be spoken, where you will shove it down and stomp it into submission until it is time to be released.

You refuse to steal this moment from him.

“Okay,” you finally murmur, stroking his blood-slicked cheeks. “Okay.”

It’s hard to ignore the concern scraping at the walls of your skull, to disregard the talons tearing at your heart, to snuff out the flames licking at your lungs, but you’ll do it for him.

Always for him.

And for the first time tonight, his smile softens, sharp edges gone melty with love.

Large hands, hardened by blue fire and the ends of Marlboros, skim up your bare thighs, the callouses adorning his palms scraping roughly against sensitive skin, inspiring trails of chills in their wake. The hem of your dress pools around his wrists as his touch climbs higher, filthy fingers, with dirt caked beneath their nails and grime lining their cuticles, wiggling their way beneath a frilly pink waistband, curling almost protectively around your hips, tips digging into supple flesh just shy of too hard.

“A perfect day deserves a perfect end, don’t you think?”

The question drips from his lips in a sultry murmur, stare heavily lidded as he tugs you down into his lap, a leering smirk smeared across his face.

“Oh, yeah?” your arms wind around his neck, nose bumping against his own. “And what’s that?”

“Stuffing my favourite girl full of my cum.”

Lips trace along the edge of your jaw as he speaks, words leaving sloppy strokes of saliva as his mouth moves against you skin.

“Over,” kiss, “And over,” kiss, “And over again, until it’s leaking out of her pretty little pussy, all over her pretty thighs, all over my pretty cock.”

“I think that—ah—I think that’s a great way to end the day.”

“Mm,” he hums, painting a flat, wide stroke of saliva up the column of your neck, the tip of his tongue tracing your cupids bow, nose bumping against your own. “It’s my favourite way to end the day.”

His lips press to yours, tongues finding each other instantly, dragging across one another in crude, sloppy caresses, heavy and slow and firm as they grind, massaging together in little circles. It’s almost as if you’re trying to soak up his taste, to permanently imbue your tastebuds with it, to keep a little reminder of him—a single piece—with you forever.

It’s messy, thick drool oozing from the seams of your conjoined mouths, but you don’t care, licking excess saliva from the corners of his mouth, sucking the dribble steadily collecting on his bottom lip, lapping up the foamy spit coating his chin staples, leaving them gleaming with you.

Lips clash again, teeth gnawing their way into the warm, wet heat of mouths, desperate to devour any part of each another you possibly can, sucking gasps and mewls and laughs from one throat into another, inhaling shards of your souls and swallowing them down, burying them in pits of stomachs and depths of guts—keepsakes, kept safe.

You can taste his blood in your mouth, salty with the tears that can’t fall, trickling from the edges of his eyes. Unfurling from your mouth, the tip of your tongue licks a thin strip up his ragged cheeks, over dead skin and warm bumpy metal, sopping up crimson sadness and consuming it.

You hold it for him, extract it from him, bear it with him, letting it soak into your heart where it can stay, for as long as he needs it to.

But that isn’t enough for him, because he wants something in return; he wants your blood, too.

Sharp teeth sink into your bottom lip, sucked taut and pressed tight to his tongue, a muted chuckle vibrating in his chest at your responding yelp. The strong hinges of his jaw flex, burrowing ivory deep, deep, deeper into your flesh, until the barrier snaps and copper explodes on his tongue, sticky and potent and so, so much.

He refuses to release you, ribs rattling with a growl when you try in vain to tug your lip free from its captors, a sob hitching in your throat, followed by a wheezy whine.

“Stay put, goddamn it,” he mumbles the words through his occupied teeth, tongue stroking your lip in the process. “M’not finished.”

Your squirming stops almost instantly, body deflating into his own, and he huffs out a snort, hot against your face.

The grip of his teeth loosens marginally, the tip of his tongue laving over the steadily weeping wound in firm, thorough strokes, tracing every indent his teeth left behind, dips rapidly swelling and filling with watered down blood, a mold of six teeth carved into your flesh.

The strength of his suction increases, siphoning fresh blood from the tiny gashes, and he moans a little, eyes rolling back in his skull as fluttery lashes frame the whites, his hips twitching up.

Sicko.

His cock is already hard, rutting into your core in irregular little movements, the lace of your panties so delicate you swear you can feel it throbbing, his motions molding the dainty fabric to your soaking folds with every slight jerk upward.

Slim fingers flex, grip on your hips tightening and further burying his nails in your flesh as he forces you to begin rocking in his lap, grinding down to meet each roll up.

His lips have left your own again, his mouth streaked with your blood, a pretty pink shimmer glazing the bottom half of his face. Blood is still trickling from the six tiny slashes his teeth left, overflowing from the seam of your mouth and flowing down your chin in unbroken streams.

Swiping a thumb through the thin floods, he smears sticky crimson across your skin, collecting a healthy swap of the substance on the pad of his finger—so much so it begins dripping down the curve to settle in the lines of his knuckle and his palm.

“Beautiful,” he whispers, repeating the action, painting you in messy shades of yourself. “Just beautiful.”

A whimper slips through your lips, eager tongue catching his thumb and curling around the appendage—protective, possessive—drawing it into the heat of your mouth.

He lets you guide him willingly, watches with lust-blown pupils as your lips pucker around the second knuckle, slick tongue cradling his thumb as it sucks it to the roof of your mouth, pools of saliva washing your blood from his skin.

His breath is coming out in hot, hard huffs, exhaled through parted lips as your mouth tightens, swallows his thumb down further. His pupils pulse, gnawing away at his irises as they try to devour you whole, blue so thin it’s scarcely an outline tracing gaping orbs of black.

Your hips are still gyrating against his in erratic little circles, a single palm still clasped around your waist guiding you, encouraging you as he bucks in response, straining cock rubbing along your cunt.

It’s just barely catching your clit, nothing more than teasing little grazes, dense heat simmering in the pit of your tummy.

You need more.

“Dabi,” you whine a little, wriggling in his grasp, a desperate attempt to garner more friction.

“Uh-huh?”

“Touya.”

“Yeah, baby,” he answers, the nonchalance in his tone contradicting the mischief glinting in his eye. “What is it?”

Chrome chips your nails as you claw at the heavy buckle of his belt, leather squeaking against metal. His free hand captures your wrists easily, holding them together in one palm, hard enough that the bones grind together.

“You want something? Huh?”

Brows knitting, you glare at him, bottom lip quivering a little, fighting the urge to jut into a full-blown pout, fighting the urge to spit out what do you think?

“You know.”

He does, of course he does.

But that doesn’t mean he’s just going to give it to you.

“C’mon, I wanna hear you say it,” he purrs as your chin puckers, your whole face scrunched up in a scowl. “C’mon, baby, c’mon, be a good little girl and ask for it.”

Sapphire scathes your skin, almost as bright and burning as his flames, his unadulterated attention nearly too much to bear, confidence and brattiness withering beneath his scorching stare.

Lashes fluttering, your eyes flee his, tears forming to shield you from his heat, shoulders caving inward in an attempt to protect you from his unyielding scrutiny.

“W-Want your cock.”

His tongue clicks in disapproval, a mocking frown slapped across his face barely suppressing his amusement, eyes shining, power flaring.

“That’s not asking, sweetheart.”

Swallowing thickly, you force your gaze to his, lids squinting a little beneath his brilliance.

“Can I please have your cock? Please?”

“Please what?”

And although he’s acting unaffected, he can’t quite quell the spasming of his hips, jerking up in minuscule movements and grinding his cock into your sopping hole, panties clinging uncomfortably to your folds.

An eyebrow raises, a question of Well? I’m waiting… imbued in the subtle action.

He isn’t going to give it to you unless you ask properly, like a good little girl is supposed to.

As expected.

“Please, Master,” you mewl, fingers curling over the edges of his belt and tugging, sharp leather biting into soft hands. “Please, please, let me ride your cock, Sir.”

Cavernous eyes observe you for a moment, scanning for dishonesty, grin growing when a whine vibrates in your throat, low and needy.

“Please?” you whimper, the leather of his belt creasing beneath your grip, squealing as it rubs together, a plead hitching in your chest. “Pl—Please, Sir.”

“Alright, alright,” he’s pacifying, acting as if he’s doing you some sort of favour, as if his cock isn’t jumping eagerly with each drool of pre-cum leaking from its slit. “Go on, then. Get it out.”

Words of thanks are pouring from your lips as your hands hastily undo his pants, yanking at the buckle, tugging at the zipper, shoving at the waistband, messy and urgent until his cock is finally released.

The stretch is nothing short of incredible, as it always is with him, little hole trembling as it swallows around his girth, drawing him in further and further, deeper and deeper, slow and steady until the head nudges your cervix, his hips twitching up twice, ensuring he’s hit the end, buried to the hilt with nowhere else to go, completely stuffing your cunt full.

And despite the trademark ache, delicate flesh stinging as it splits into little fissures to accommodate him, your hips begin moving immediately, starved and raring, whimpering a little into his shoulder as you cling to him, every rotation of your hips radiating pricks of pain through your gut.

“God, you’re pathetic,” he snorts, but the insult is soft, edges dulled by love. “So fucking desperate for my cock, aren’t you?”

“Can’t help it,” you murmur, rubbing your cheek along the curve of his neck, then his jaw, streaking your face with his sweat. “Missed you so much.”

“I know, baby,” the tip of his tongue swipes through the blood still staining your chin. “Bet you missed my cock just as much, if not more.”

“Yes, yes, Sir,” you’re nodding in messy little motions, hips still rocking languidly against his own, clit gliding against his slick pubic bone in rhythmic strokes. “I did, I missed it s’much—”

A gasp slices through your slurred words, sharp air shoved from your chest as his hips begin snapping upward, rough and ruthless and without warning, the hands grasping your hips tightening around your flesh as he forces you to stay in place.

“Of course you did,” he grunts out, as if it’s preposterous to think otherwise. “I’m not at all surprised; my sweet lil slut can’t live without my cock, can she?”

“Never, never, ne-never,” you babble out in confirmation, words stuttered harshly with the piston of his hips.

Another laugh spills from his lips, airy and malicious in melody.

“No, never,” he rasps, ever-so-slightly breathless with the effort, dewdrops of sweat beginning to adorn his hairline. “Fuck, how would you ever get off without me, huh?”

The question sends a pang searing through your heart, echoing a question you’ve been asking yourself often as of late—how would you ever survive without him?

The thought stings your eyes, thick tears rushing to cloud your vision and rendering him nothing more than a watery blur of ivory and violet.

“I—I wouldn’t, Sir, I wouldn’t!” you cry out, rapid fluttering of your lids dislodging teardrops, streaming down your cheeks in glistening pairs. “I n-need you, I need you, always, always, al-always!”

Your fingers curl against his shoulders, nails catching on staples, a hiss spit from the gaps of his teeth. They sink into grafted skin, dead and weathered and dusted in ash, and cling, knuckles locked and stiff as you try to pull yourself impossibly closer to him.

Gnarled flesh collects beneath the edges of your nails as your grip strengthens, chewing on his body and gathering it in your grasp, consuming whatever tiny slivers you can, a silent plead to stay.

“It’s okay, precious,” he hushes you, lips pushed into a mocking pout, contradicted by the smothering affection exuding from his eyes. “M’here, m’not going anywhere.”

God, you hope not.

“Please, please—”

And you drown yourself in it, drown yourself in him; his taste, spicy hickory and warm smoke, exhaled onto your hungry tongue, soaked up and swallowed down; his gaze, overflowing with adoration and intense attention, tying itself in a thick braided noose around your neck and tightening; his touch, stamping his prints into your flesh in blotchy bursts of blue, singeing his name with licks of sapphire that welt and wound, that crust and crater and scar.

Your ribs squeeze, sucked inward by the voracious black hole your heart has morphed into—never sated, never filled, always vying for more—whole body curling beneath the strain.

But he’s right there to hold you, to steady you, to keep you intact, his hands the stitches you need to keep from unraveling.

“I know, I know,” he’s cooing as you choke on sobs, still scraping weakly at his back, “your Master’s gonna give you what you need.”

Slim fingers flex, soot-stuffed nails latching onto your flesh like tiny leeches, dug in nice and deep, using his grasp as leverage to control the speed and angle of your hips.

Your feet skid against the chipped bathroom tile, the muscles in your legs tensing as you attempt to find stable purchase on the floor trying to aid in his movements, to fuck yourself on him.

It’s no use, though—it’s not like it matters, anyway, not when Dabi’s got complete domination over your body, over all of its movements and positions, manhandling you into whatever arrangement he pleases, reduced to nothing more than his favourite little plaything.

“It’s real cute,” he’s telling you in that sugared condescension you’ve come to love so much, “that you’re trying so hard to help me.”

A whine escapes your lips, caught somewhere between apologetic and petulant, hips stammering as they begin to slow, and he laughs.

“Aw, no, don’t stop,” his tongue clicks against his teeth. “Keep trying, it’s so precious.”

And although his tone is taunting, full of characteristic derisive glee, his eyes are encouraging, begging you to keep going, for him.

And so, you do, desperate to please him, the muscles in your thighs beginning to burn as you work in vain to pathetically hump away at him, hips knocking together irregularly as your footing continues to slip.

It doesn’t do much to assist him, but he’s happy anyway, a certain type of pride saturating his features, dulling the points of his wide smile, dimming the harsh brilliance in his eyes, turning his face into something a little softer, something a little sweeter.

Dabi keeps an iron grip on the pace—not that you’d ever expect anything different—forcing you to ride him hard and fast, bouncing you on his cock as his hips buck up in expert rhythm, completing your movements every time. The head drags over that engorged spot with each pound into you, sending a judder of scorching sparks to rush through your blood, each bout more intense than the last.

“God, look at you, you’re such a little slut for me, huh?” he pants out, rapacious eyes sweeping across your face, keen to soak up your expression. “Taking my cock like you were fuckin’ made for it.”

He’s really fucking into you now, jerking you on his cock like a toy, because you are—something that’s his to use whenever, wherever, and however he sees fit, something that’s his to own, to care for and splinter to bits and painstakingly piece back together, over and over and over again.

Tears of ecstasy are pouring from your eyes, cascading down your face in twin streams, excess dewdrops embedded in spiked lashes glittering with every rough pump of his hips.

It all hurts—always does, with Dabi, incapable of treating anything with any degree of gentleness; not a flaw, just a fact, oblivious to his own strength—but the pain only works to elevate the pleasure, pushing it higher and higher and higher until it’s choking you, smothering your lungs and stuffing your throat and spilling out your mouth in the form of messy, stringy sobs.

“S’been so long, Sir, so long,” you weep, nails burrowing further into his body, almost as if they’re desperate to reach his core—to pry past his ribs and claw into his heart and curl up in his soul.

Because it has been so long, too long, most of Dabi’s attention soaked up by Paranormal Liberation duties and his own extensive planning as Shigaraki’s due date drew closer and closer, any scraps of time thrown your way whenever he had a spare moment to sneak off to this dilapidated safe house where he’d stashed you away, his visits sporadic and unpredictable.

“You’re right,” he says, and there’s a tinge of melancholy to his breath. “It’s been way too long since your sweet cunt has been filled with your Owner’s cock, hasn’t it?”

“It has, it has,” you’re nodding sloppily, tongue tangled in threads of spit.

“My poor lil pussy,” he pouts, and it’s so derisive. “Must be starving, it hasn’t been stuffed nice and full with my cum in forever.”

“No, no, no,” you’re chanting in agreement, “feels so empty without you, Sir, feels s-so wrong.”

“Aw, don’t worry, sweetheart,” he crudely laps at the steady stream of tears, vicious bouncing causing his teeth to nick your cheek. “I’m gonna change that.”

Chapped lips find your ear, slicked with saliva, his voice dropping an octave as he continues.

“Because tonight,” he breathes, sweltering against your ear, his tongue darting from between wet lips to trace along the curve. “I am going to stuff you so full of my cum that—ah, fu-fuck—that it’s going to flood your cute lil tummy, that it’s gonna seep into your organs, into your fucking blood, that it’s gonna be leaking out all over the fucking place.”

“Oh, oh, please, Sir, please!”

The pleads come out as a single string, melded together with drool and garbled on your tongue. Little jolts of fire shoot through your body with the constant ramming of his hips, flames licking at your veins as they sear through them, the sharp slap of your ass against his thighs complementing his harsh pants and your broken moans.

“Yeah, I know, my little cumslut wants that so badly, doesn’t she?”

Your brain struggles to stitch together a sentence longer than his name, your mind gone delirious for his seed—and it’s an aching, it’s an addiction, sick and depraved and downright uncontrollable—little uh-huh!’s mercilessly fucked from your throat, head bobbling along with the affirmations.

You can feel it, a taut pleasure building within your body, a fluttering that furls into a tight ball of sapphire flame in the pit of your belly, pulsing a little faster, a little harder, a little more with every drive of his cock.

“Oh, Touya, Tou—Touya!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, say my name.”

A growl rattles against his ribs, whole chest vibrating with the force of it, and his head dips down, slick tongue painting strokes of thick, shimmering saliva across your skin, an artist priming his favourite canvas.

“C’mon, tell me who’s making you feel this good—” and although it’s supposed to be a command, it comes out as a plead, voice tapering off into a low whine, muffled against your shoulder. “Tell me, tell me.”

“You, Touya,” you choke out, the name mangling itself in your throat. “You, you, you!”

“You’re goddamn right, it’s me.”

Sharp teeth bury themselves in your flesh, mouth clamped over the junction of your neck, harder and harder and harder until the barrier of your skin finally splits, syrupy copper erupting on his tongue.

His name shatters on your lips, a dark chuckle soaking into the wound when you arch your neck, stretched and strained and offering him more room to work despite the squeal of pain sticking in your throat

It’s all so much, too much, his teeth in your flesh and his cock filling your cunt and—and—!

“Gonna—gonna—!”

A large palm collides with your ass, sick slap echoing off the cracked walls.

“Is that any way to ask your Master for permission?” Dabi spits, voice dripping with disappointment. “God,” he huffs out a laugh, incredulous, but the mirth shining in his eyes is so bright, so blazing it almost hurts to look at. “My cock must’ve really made you go fucking stupid, huh? Don’t you know this body belongs to me?”

Another spank lands against your bottom, a yelp hitching in your chest with the ruthless jackhammer of his hips, his fingers sinking into the burning flesh in a bruising grip, amplifying the sting of the slap, digging it deep into your tissues.

“This body is not allowed to cum unless I say so—so ask nicely, you little bitch.”

“M’sorry!” you cry out, a fresh torrent of tears flooding your eyes. “M’sorry, m’so sorry, Master—”

“Yeah? Yeah?”

His other hand snakes between your heaving, sweat-drenched bodies, thumb and forefinger clamping down on your clit and tweaking, hard enough to force a scream from your tongue, sending spikes of pain rushing through your veins. His fingers flatten against the engorged little nub a moment later, rubbing hard, quick circles into it, a malicious little giggle squeaking in his throat because it’s so swollen, baby and Christ, you must wanna cream all over his cock so badly!

Sounds of affirmation spill uncontrollably from your lips, head nodding in frenetic little motions, whole face shimmering and sticky with salt, snot, sweat.

“Uh-huh? Uh-huh?”

He’s mocking you, chin tilted up in superiority, staring down the bridge of his nose to regard you in patronizing pity, eyebrows raised and imploring you to continue.

“Apologies are not asking, baby,” his grip catches your slippery clit again, twisting it harder this time, your eyes scrunching shut as a cry shatters on your tongue, fingers scrabbling against his shoulders, tearing out staples.

He’s right, you know he is, but he’s making it difficult to speak, difficult to ask, difficult to stitch together a single word at all, let alone a full thought, when he’s playing with your clit like that, alternating between pulsing pinches and gentle caresses, the calloused pads of his fingertips providing just the right amount of friction.

Your whole body quivers with the effort of holding your orgasm back, muscles pulled tight and taut with the strain, and he laughs—beautiful, breathless, bona-fide—cock twitching inside of you.

“Pl—Please, Sir,” you manage to gasp out, entreatment forced from your tongue in a single thin breath. “Please, let me cum, please, please, please!”

The pleads melt into one gooey stream as they flow from your lips, slathered in drool and dripping from the corners of your mouth in thick cords.

“Yeah? You want it? You wanna cum all over your Owner’s cock?”

“Yes, yes!” you practically wail, pawing urgently at him. “Please, sir, let me cum, make me cum, I wanna—I wanna—”

“Alright, alright,” Dabi’s pacifying, but his actions don’t slow, hips merciless with their assault on your body. “Go ahead, sweetheart, make a pretty mess on me.”

Never one to disobey a direct order from your Master, you do, almost instantly, entire body convulsing as your cunt pulses around his shaft, gushing so much slick that it floods his thighs and soaks the waistband of his pants.

The constant circles ground into your sensitive clit as you spasm around him only work to heighten the pleasure, brain gone numb with the shocks of ecstasy coursing through your body, another flurry of jolts sent through your veins with every run through the routine, skin rippling with the impact.

He doesn’t stop his assault even after you cum, vehemently refusing to let up even as the clenching of your cunt fades into something faint and erratic, even as violent tremors loop through your veins, entire body quivering in his tight grasp, even as your fingers claw weakly at his wrist, crooking staples and scraping scarred flesh, blood rushing to fill the gouges left by your nails.

No, he doesn’t stop until you’re teetering on the brink of passing out, wandering in and out of consciousness, his name leaving your lips in a near incomprehensible jumble, slurred and heavy with spit.

Only then does he scoop you up in his arms, your legs dangling limply from his elbows as his palms firmly clutch your ass, hard cock still aching and buried deep inside of you, and carry your pliant body to that worn, fraying couch, with the puffs of white cotton leaking through the polyester and the exposed springs groaning beneath your weight.

You barely notice the change in scenery, though, still blissfully fucked out, nerves gnawed raw by his overstimulation, a soft hiss slipping from between your teeth as the scratchy cushion rubs against your bare bottom, a raised imprint of Dabi’s palm and all five fingers still rapidly swelling.

“It’s my turn now, angel,” Dabi’s words drift over your body in an indistinct haze, vision fuzzing at the edges, your head nodding instinctively.

“Gonna—Gonna make good on your promise, Master?”

“I always do, don’t I?”

And then his hips are thrusting, cockhead repeatedly ramming your cervix with every harsh plunge forward, leaning down to catch fresh tears with his lips. The tip of his tongue traces their salty trajectory all the way to your bottom lashes, matted into wet little spikes, before sucking a hickey into your cheek, tiny capillaries bursting beneath his tongue, staining the thin skin with swiftly developing violet.

Tufts of ivory cling to his temples in damp clumps, dried black dye liquifying beneath his heat and running down his cheeks, leaving streaks along the line of his jaw and the curve of his neck. Sweat collects in the dips of his collarbones, shimmering gently in the flickering light spilling from the television set, a wavering news reporter recounting the tragic events of today, stuttered by static.

“God,” he nearly whines, voracious eyes sweeping across your face, desperate to soak up your twisted expression of pleasure-tinged pain—the way your lids keep drooping as you struggle to keep them pried open, eyes speckled with stars, lashes encrusted with tears; the way your tongue keeps lolling out to draw your slick lip back between your teeth, muffling your whimpers and mewls, and oh, no, he can’t have that, a gentle tut of his tongue clicking against his teeth as his thumb tugs it free from your mouth, drawing out a stringy whine in the process.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous when you go dumb from my cock.”

The words leave his lips in an airy gasp, as if he can hardly believe you’re real beneath him, as if he can hardly believe it’s his cock making you look this way, a hand leaving your waist to slide along your torso, taking the hem of your dress with it, rough palm tracing every curve and dip and bulge as it crawls to your collarbone.

He takes his time to admire you—to appreciate the sensation of your skin beneath his touch, fingers gripping, kneading, scraping, gathering palmfuls of you in his grasp before letting go again in a stunned sort of marvel—hips slowing to an uneven rutting, unable to fully halt his fucking.

Keeping a firm, steady grasp on your body and pinning you in place, his free hand continues to roam, hardened fingertips sinking into the pretty blue lace of your bra hard with enough force to elicit a yelp from your lips, amusement tugging at his lips.

“So, so beautiful,” he pants, eyes skimming your now exposed body, his fiery gaze outlining every edge, dedicated in committing every contour to memory. “Fucking look at you.”

In all the time you’ve been with him, your body has become a scrapbook of Dabi. It tells stories of him—what he’s done, how he’s felt, where he’s been, why he did it—stamped permanently into your flesh using his teeth and his tongue and his flames, in raised flesh and puckered craters and glittering scabs.

You can’t tear your stare from his face, though, too busy worshipping him, sapphire eyes gaping and glazed as they travel along your body, soft huffs of breath escaping his lips, pushed from his throat with the tender heaving of his chest, saliva glistening on his lips, smeared so prettily across the staples climbing his chin.

Dainty fingers grope at the air, pathetic and yearning, clawing at nothing, and he laughs a little, nothing more than a smooth, deep vibration at the back of his tongue.

His touch finds the apex of your thighs again, nails dimpling flesh as he spreads your legs wide—so wide your muscles begin to burn, taut beneath the strain—a quiet groan rumbling in his chest as he stares at your stretched cunt.

Two fingers press into your clit, still slick and swollen, grazing over it in slow caresses—back and forth, back and forth, gliding easily over the puffy nub and snorting a little at the way your hole flutters, eager and aching, squeezing his cock, sucking him in, begging for more.

So cute.

Eyes wide and unblinking, he plays with you in a trance, slowly but surely building up pleasure in you, pressure in you, fascinated by the way your body so readily reacts to his simple motions, grinding circles and rubbing strokes and pulsing fingertips.

It enraptures him, puffs of hot air exhaled through slightly parted lips as he watches just his touch bring you to orgasm for the second time tonight, obsessed with the way your cunt trembles around his cock, a surge of your essence streaming from your hole, embracing him in a thick, wet heat.

Your cunt gorges on him—so fuckin’ greedy, even after cumming twice—fluttering a little around the base of his shaft, still oozing so much slick that it’s glazing your ass and his balls, steadily seeping past the tight seam of your hole.

It’s so pretty, it’s so fuckin’ pretty, baby, he’s breathing, eyes hazy with awe, hips drawing back just a little to watch the way your body clings to his girth, sheathing his cock in a shimmering layer of arousal.

A palm wraps around the base of his shaft, the head of his cock still buried an inch or two in your straining cunt, and he jerks himself hard and quick, sick wet slaps echoing out among the room as his hand slams between your cunt and his pelvis.

“Fuck, f-fuck—”

His hips start moving on their own accord, too impatient, his hand nothing compared to the sweltering ecstasy of your cunt, and he releases his cock, sticky hand collaring your throat, pinioning you to the couch, his thrusts so vicious they’re jostling your body up the cushions, the palm crushing your airway keeping you in place.

Lithe fingers flex as their grip on your neck tightens, coarse pads of his fingertips beginning to heat up, blood in your veins bubbling beneath his touch.

Your flesh melts beneath his hold, melds itself to his grasp, desperate to stay in his hands forever.

The sting is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, his palm and all five of his fingers singed into your skin in the prettiest, most precious permanent necklace. You can barely breathe, exhales coming as weak little wheezes, and you swear his flames must be licking into your throat, down to your lungs and straight through your veins, incinerating your blood as your body goes numb, cunt clenching around his cock for the third time, wailing out shards of his name.

But you don’t allow his hold to let up, to loosen at all, both of your hands placed firmly over his, holding it there harder, a loud moan escaping his lips, his hips stammering out of rhythm.

“Brand me, Master, brand me, brand me,” you’re gasping out, voice wrecked and raw. “Make me yours, mark me as yours, forever!”

“Jesus Christ,” he nearly sobs, his thrusts turned brutal, primal, losing any semblance of finesse as he relentlessly fucks you, motions stuttering as he finally cums, a violent shudder coursing through his body before he collapses on top of you, drenched in sweat as his cock throbs, filling you to the brim with hot, thick cum.

“More, Touya, more, more!” you’re crying out, scrabbling at his shoulders as you try to pull him closer, shivering legs latching around his waist as tight as you can manage as your hips roll up to meet his own, crudely humping him. “Gimme more!”

A groan, dense and heavy, spills from his lips, his entire body rippling with hiccups as he ruts into you—automatic, instinctual, desperate to give his sweet girl what she wants, even if it hurts.

“Yeah, yeah, ye-yeah, Touya, Touya, fill me with y’r cum!”

And so, he does, using your cunt to milk himself even as his form quivers with every rock of his hips, chills skidding across his flesh with every bump of his cockhead against your abused cervix.

He keeps going, just like you begged him to, just like he promised he would, until your tummy is stuffed full and your cunt is leaking with his seed, until neither of you can take it anymore, bodies shuddering with every hump and drag and grind, deliquescing into one another, a puddle of limbs.

You stay like that for a while, his body blanketing yours, breathing as one, being as one. Gentle fingertips trail up and down the column of his spine as his bones begin to fuse and harden again, tiptoeing over the trails of staples stitching dead skin to healthy flesh and evoking a mild shudder, pads of your fingers pressing into each golden suture, counting them lovingly, kissing every one.

Eventually, after your fingers have traversed across all thirty-one, he shifts, manhandling you onto his chest as he shuffles himself beneath you, cradled between his thighs.

“What now?”

You don’t mean to say it, don’t mean to shatter that delicate, post-orgasmic, precarious peace with two simple words, but they claw up your throat and pry past your teeth and gnaw on your lips, desperate to be vocalized, immortalized, heard.

What now?

They’re uttered out softly enough, lips moving against his heart, warm breath seeping into his chest, the question worming its way beneath his skin.

His muscles go rigid, his breath stalling in his lungs.

What happens now that his goal has been reached, Part One in his plan succeeded? What’s the next step, now that the world knows Todoroki Touya is alive and simmering in his hatred, fuelled by spite and ravenous with revenge?

What happens when he goes to face his father for the final time? And what happens if he never returns?

“Oh, I dunno,” he sighs out, but his voice trembles. “We could fix this place up, all nice and swanky, have a couple’a kids, get a golden retriever—y’know, real nuclear family type shit.”

You laugh, but it comes out strangled, sounding strange to your ears, a distorted sob.

“The dream, huh?”

“Yeah,” he says, quiet, nostalgia for a time that has never happened, that will never come, aching in his words. “The dream.”

A silence settles over the two of you, as tender as the edges of a festering wound.

“I have to do it,” he says after several moments have passed, and his voice is soft—softer than you’ve ever heard it before, softer than you ever thought him capable of—infused with apology.

He does.

You know he does. You understand why. That’s how the story ends, the final chapter he’s been drafting—you were never meant to be a part of this tale, written in between lines and margins, stuffed between words, twined throughout the pages nonetheless. But ultimately, this is his story—to write, to tell, to edit, to revise, to create, to conclude.

You know.

But the acceptance sticks in your throat, furled into a tight, hard lump, so you nod instead, punctuating your affirmative with a kiss pressed to his chest, planted right over his heart. It soaks into his skin, burrows itself into pulsating muscle and finds salvation there, finds home there, a puzzle piece that snaps into perfect place—something that’s always been missing, now complete. Something he’ll take with him, when his pen leaves the page, when his book snaps shut.

You don’t dare look at him. You don’t need to. You can feel the stutter of his chest, hear the hitch of his breath tangling on hard truths to swallow, smell the copper streaming down his cheeks again.

And you hug him tighter.

You know. And no matter how badly you wish to, you won’t stop him.

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leviethinsaint · 1 month ago

Text

𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 —

— : [nsfw ] toxic, unprotected sex, light angst, pregnancy kink, + possessive behaviour

— : wc : 1.3k

your relationship or lack thereof, with dabi has always been non-conventional. you don’t go on dates like a normal couple would and you only ever see him at night, when he’s done with whatever shady shit he does during the day.

you’ve blocked him 6 times in 2 days and there have been worse days. you’re not even sure why you keep going back to him but you do and your friends are tired of the way you complain about him.

you glare at your phone when you see his name flashing. your phone has been on silent all day and you’re too scared to check his texts because you’d give in and you wanted to be done with him.

he wasn’t good for you but every time you’d try to move on, you’d find yourself back in his bed or him in yours and the cycle never ended.

you’re not even surprised when you near the sound is car outside your house. he’s always loud when he enters your neighbourhood and you know it’s because your neighbours don’t approve of him.

you roll your eyes and walk into your kitchen to get a drink, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach as you hear the sound of your spare keys. you want to be mad at giving him the keys but you can’t be.

no matter how much you tried to deny it, you were already deep in love with him and even if you did move far away, he’d find you.

he shrugs out his heavy leather jacket and takes his shoes off, his eyes trained on you as you walk through your kitchen and into the living room. he can tell you’re angry and he’s trying not to raise his voice. he’s been working on his inside voice, some shit his therapist suggested.

“hi baby” he says, lifting your legs up to sit next to you.

“why are you here?” you sigh, scrolling through your phone. it was easier than looking at him.

“i called and texted you but you weren’t answering me” he narrows his eyes, “your phone seems to be working just fine”

“yes touya, i didn’t want to see you” you say, “i just needed space”

“it’s been 3 days” he scoffs, “i tried being patient but i don’t think i can handle you ignoring me like this”

he takes your phone out your hand and tosses it onto the couch on the other side, further away from you.

you finally acknowledge him properly, glaring as he smirks at you. he’s so infuriatingly handsome and it pisses you off how easily you give in to him.

“i missed you baby” he takes your hands in his, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles before kissing your hands.

“i didn’t miss you” you lie and he grins, kissing your wrist

“i know” he smiles, seeing right through you, “have you been drinking sweetheart?”

you nod. you were a little tipsy but you weren’t drunk and certainly not drunk enough to use that as an excuse for letting him hold you or be with you.

he chuckles and reaches for your drink, downing the rest of your wine. he never really liked the sweet shit but he knew it was your favourite.

“do you want me to leave?” he asks and you frown, eyes narrowing at him because he knows you won’t kick him out.

“touya, can you just.. make me forget” you say, taking his hand in yours and placing it on your upper thigh, “i just don’t wanna think right now”

you knew you’d have to talk eventually. the arguments and fights needed to come to an end if you two wanted to be together and dabi knew he wouldn’t want to be with anyone that wasn’t you.

“of course baby, whatever you need” he says, leaning in to kiss you.

you could taste wine and the cherry flavoured chapstick he always wore. you closed your eyes, wrapping your arms around his neck and you deepened the kiss.

like this, with his kisses consuming you, it was easy to focus on just that and nothing else. you wanted to forget the reason you had a fight and the reasons you wanted to break up with him.

“you’re mine” he pants, pressing your foreheads together, “i’m not leaving you”

“touya please” you whine, gasping when he slips his hand further up your thigh, underneath the dress you were wearing.

“that desperate huh?” he grins, “that’s okay sweetheart, i need you just as much”

you find yourself looking up at the ceiling as you pushes you onto your back. his kisses have always been soft but aggressive and you could never fully understand the way he was able to make you feel just from this.

“lift your hips” he whispers and you waste no time getting rid of your panties.

he removes his own sweatpants and boxers, leaving him in his black vest and chains. he didn’t bother removing your skirt, flipping it up and slipping his middle finger into your pussy.

you gasp softly, legs spreading as wide as it can go on your couch, silently begging him for more.

“just.. put it in” you frown, grabbing his shoulders as he curls his finger

“you’ll bitch about me hurting you” he grins but he’s already rubbing his dick through your wet folds. he groans at the feeling.

he thinks about how beautiful you’d look, full of his cum. what you’d look like pregnant so everyone would know were his. your friends would have to accept that he was never going to leave no matter what they said.

he bites back a moan of his own just to hear you cry out for him as he pushes into you. you’re so warm inside and your walls hug him tightly, welcoming him home like he’s always belonged inside you.

“hurts” you whine, wrapping your leg around his waist. despite the pain from the stretch, it feels so good that you don’t want him to stop. you drag him closer, causing his cock to press against your cervix.

“fuck” he grunts, gripping your waist hard. he loves being inside you, being this close to you. he could never let you go even if he had to kill just to keep you to himself.

“faster” you moan, pushing down onto his dick as he picks up his pace. he’s so deep inside you and you can barely focus on anything besides how full you are but you need it. you need him.

he pushes your thighs further towards your chest and leans in to kiss you. somehow, the kisses feel more intimate than him being balls deep inside you.

“do you love me baby?” he asks, lightly kissing your cheek and your lips, “hm?”

“touya stop” you whine, squeezing your eyes shut at the feeling of him being so deep and so close to you. you don’t want to push him away, you actually want him closer but you can’t admit it. you don’t want him to know.

it seems like he does when he chuckles, eyes never leaving yours even when yours aren’t able to stay open the whole time.

“tell me” he urges, slowing his pace down a lot. you feel the drag of his cock and the way your pussy clenches around him.

“yes!” you cry out, tears of frustration well up in your pretty eyes and he coos, reaching up to wipe your eyes

“aw don’t cry baby” he grins, “you know i love you more than anything, don’t you?”

you nod and he smiles, picking up his pace and reaching between your bodies to press against your clit. he’s so good with his fingers and the way he knows your body almost better than you do.

“that’s it pretty girl, cum all over me” he whispers, “let me feel how good i make you feel”

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leviethinsaint · 1 month ago

Text

Ex for Toxic

Dabi x F!Reader Smut

Warnings: +18 MINORS DNI noncon/dubcon(reader becomes compliant), cursing(reader is angy), Dabi is a fucking asshole, toxic relationship, manhandling, manipulation, tiny bit of angst

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Kohei Horikoshi

Synopsis: You come home from work only to find your ex waiting for you and you’re not happy about that

Word count: 3.4k

Midnight had descended on the city. Streets were quiet and empty from other people as you strolled home from work. Most of the streetlights were broken, but you actually preferred the dark silence, finding it peaceful after spending the entire day with people.

As your apartment building came on sight, you spotted something unusual on your window sill. Narrowing your eyes to see better, you figured that it was in fact a person, sitting in a rather relaxed position.

As soon as you perceived the dark clothes, the black boots and the spiky white hair, your serene mood was replaced with a boiling of your blood.

Dabi– or perhaps you could now call him by his real name since he had revealed his true identity during the war– Todoroki Touya. Your ex-boyfriend whom you had a passionate relationship with, but due to his many selfish choices, your love had ended on bad terms.

Your lips pursed into a tight line and your body tensed up in anger while dozens of curse words invaded your mind. The adrenaline made your steps faster and you were resilient to hear his reason for intruding into your life like this, especially after not seeing him in months.

Touya did note your hostile demeanor from afar and having expected that, he grinned rather mockingly, “Hey there, little princess,” he greeted.

“What the hell are you doing here?!“ You shouted, looking up at his figure with your hands squeezed into fists.

“Hey now, don’t I get a decent greeting?“ He replied playfully, knowing just how much it’d tick you off.

“You know very well you’re the last person I wanna see! What do you want?!“

He didn’t bother to reply and as if purposely annoying you more, his smirk remained unfaltering while opening the unlocked window and sliding through it.

You growled in irritation and hurried to the main entrance. Hastily opening the door, you ran the stairs up to the third floor and dug the keys from your bag. After fiddling them carelessly to find the right one, you unlocked the door and basically stormed inside your flat to find Touya casually looking around.

“You removed all photos of us,” He noted while scanning the shelves, finding only pictures of you and your friends.

“I burned them,“ you replied confidently while crossing your arms, which made Touya shift his gaze at you.

You hoped that he’d somehow be affected by your bitter deed, but he only showed you a look of sarcastic sympathy.

“Oh, l’ve made you upset, haven’t I?“ He asked, knowing very well the answer.

You gritted your teeth at his dismissive manner, “That doesn’t matter anymore. What are you doing here anyway?! You can’t just break into my home like this!” You shouted, but he completely ignored you.

“You got something to eat? I’m starving,” he asked while walking past you towards the kitchen. You were swift to rush before him, determinedly blocking his way, which made the flame villain show you a rather amused smile.

“I don’t have anything for you! You need to leave right now!”

“Now, sweetie, why don’t you try to calm down a bit,” Touya suggested while walking past you again, perfectly aware that a man should never tell an angry woman to calm down.

You squeezed your hands into fists in anger and inhaled a deep breath, trying to control your emotions.

You’ve always known Touya to be impolite and fond of annoying you, but it was like his disrespectful nature had reached a new level. Perhaps the encounter with his father had unleashed that tendency or maybe he just has always been like this, he just didn’t care to hide it anymore.

However, none of it was your problem anymore. So as you restrained the hurricane inside you, you stomped again in front of his carefree being.

“You don’t get to walk back into my life and act like you didn’t abandon me the way you did,” you seethed, glaring up at him firmly.

Touya tilted his head again, “You still mad about that? You know I had no choice,“ he claimed dismissively.

“Yes you did! And you chose those criminals over me!“

“Fine, I did do that. But you know you’re still my number one girl, right?“ He said while about to tuck a strand behind your ear, but you slapped his hand away.

“...I will now take a nice, hot shower and when I come out, you better be gone!“ You tossed your bag on the floor in anger before storming into the bathroom, leaving Touya with an amused expression as he considered your mood a mere tantrum.

***

With hot water running down your body, you leaned your hand on the shower wall and hung your head. Focusing on calming your nerves, you tried to remind yourself that he wasn’t worthy of your reactions.

You would only grant him more power over you and since Touya was excellent at manipulating others, he could easily dictate your decisions if you’d let him.

But it wasn’t easy to let go of your anger, because the raging emotion was there to protect what was hiding underneath; a deeply wounded heart.

Your eyes filled with tears and you sniffled, but only once as you lifted your head up and decided to stay strong.

After washing yourself, you stepped out of the steamy room while wrapping a towel around your naked body. Using another one to vigorously rub your hair dry, you thought you were alone until you noticed Touya sitting on the couch.

He was munching on a piece of bread while browsing a phone. His feet were rudely lifted on the sofa table and his boots and jacket were scattered across the living room floor.

You were rather dumbfounded and staring at him speechlessly, finding his impudence utterly baffling.

“Who’s this dude? You’ve chatted with him quite a lot,“ he asked.

You couldn’t comprehend it for a second since the mere idea seemed incredibly outrageous, but as you glanced at your bag that had clearly been rummaged, you realized that he was in fact browsing your phone.

He casually got up while still exploring your private chats, “A pro-hero, huh?“

“Give that back!“ You stormed at him and tried to snatch the phone, but Touya simply lifted his arm up and held it above your head.

“I thought you preferred villains,“ he taunted.

“Give it back to me!“ You growled while trying to reach the phone, but being shorter than him, there was no avail.

“Chill, Y/N, just wanted to know what you’ve been up to,“ Touya said before tossing your precious device on top of your bag.

“It’s none of your damn business! Why are you even here?! What do you want?!“

It might’ve been the umpteenth time you asked that same question or the utter frustration in your voice that finally resonated within him. Touya seemed to change his taunting demeanor and his features calmed into an unusual seriousness.

Glaring at him firmly, you were certain to not accept anything other than a truthful response. You watched as he inhaled a deep, hesitating breath as if what he was about to tell you was in fact something serious.

“..I got horny,“ he blurted out.

You stared at him in disbelief, wondering whether you heard him right. As the comprehension finally hit you, your body tensed up in anger and many emotions flashed on your features as you tried to cope with the unbridled rage.

His lips twisted into a toothy smirk that tugged at the staples in the corners of his mouth. He was utterly entertained by your fury, which needless to say, was the reaction he had hoped to provoke out of you.

“Get the fuck outta here. Now.“

“Come on now, Y/N. It’s been a long time since we’ve fucked,“ Touya pointed out, still wearing that nerve-wrecking smirk on his face.

“If you seriously think I’m gonna want to have sex with you now, you’re even crazier than I thought you’d be,“ you said.

“Oh, you have no idea,“ he said a little eerily and looked at you like you were a snack for him to devour. You chose to ignore him.

“Get out,” you spat.

“I’m curious to see if I can still make you cum as fast as I used to.”

“Fuck off already!” You screamed, but he kept ignoring you.

“You used to love it so rough–” Touya pondered out loud while taking a step toward you, which made you step one back. He tilted his head as if reminiscing something, “You still moan like a bitch in heat?“

His foul question made you immediately raise your hand to slap him, but he easily caught your wrist.

“I take that as a yes. But just in case, I wanna see for myself.”

He grabbed your waist and effortlessly lifted you over his shoulder, his sudden act making you shriek in surprise. He started carrying your wriggling figure to your bedroom.

“Hey! Put me down! Touya!“ You commanded, but he just slapped your ass.

“Save your strength, sweetheart, you’re gonna need it,“ he noted.

He threw you on your bed and got on top of you, swiftly pulling his t-shirt over his head and setting himself between your knees so it’d be easier to keep you from struggling. You tried to push him off of you, but he grabbed both of your wrists and pinned them down with one hand.

“You won’t be needing this,” he tugged the towel off of you harshly, making you squeal in embarrassment as your naked body was now on full display for him.

“Get off of me!”

Your words had no effect and they echoed to deaf walls, the villain being too busy admiring your naked figure.

“I’ll never get over how fucking pretty you are like this,” he spoke lustfully.

“You won’t get away with this–!” You yelled, gaining his attention as his heavily-lidded eyes turned to look at you.

“Someone will hear my screams and when the heroes are called, you’ll be dragged to Tartarus where you fucking belong!“

Touya looked down at you boredly, not interested in your measly threats. Instead, he had the audacity to keep his eyes locked on yours while bringing two of his fingers into his mouth, wetting them before sneaking them in between your legs.

You shut your eyes and leaned your head back as he pushed them inside you, “Fucking.. bastard,“ you growled, feeling his digits move in and out of you.

“Still tight as ever,” he grinned.

“I’ll fucking kill you..“

“That’s it baby.. You’re so fucking hot like this.”

You squirmed in unwanted pleasure underneath him, but no more than a moment later he already pulled his fingers out. As you heard him unzip his pants, you opened your eyes to see his smug smirk.

“You’re.. not gonna get away with this..” you insisted.

“Watch me.”

He lowered his pants just enough to free his aching cock. Pressing it against your tight entrance, your brows furrowed as he started pushing past your walls, the head of his cock sinking inside you with ease.

“Fuck..Yeah..” He groaned, the feeling of your tight pussy wrapping around him after such a long time blurred his mind.

He released your wrists and you used the opportunity to try to push him off, but it was no use. He placed his forearms on both sides of your head and began slowly rolling his hips, going deeper with each motion.

“Get off of me..!” You growled while continuing to push his shoulders, but he wouldn’t even budge. Instead he started thrusting into you with a steady pace.

You stayed reluctant and your legs squirmed to make it more difficult for him, which seemed to work as Touya stopped to look at you.

“You wanna know what makes your fighting so damn funny?“ He asked and you stopped for a second to glare at him.

“I can feel how soaked you are for me,“ he pointed out, his remark making your heart skip a beat.

“Your pussy is fucking dripping so clearly your body wants this–” he paused, the look in his eyes softening a little.

“It’s your heart that fears to enjoy, isn’t it?“

His words pierced deep through you and suddenly your tough composure started to crumble. Oh, how you hated the way he could break you down like this.

With tears pooling your eyes, you diverted your gaze away, but Touya placed his hand gently on your cheek and made you look at him.

“I know that I hurt you and you want to hate me for it, but it’s not that easy cause you still love me.“

Your heart clenched in pain and the first tears escaped your eyes, “You just left..“ you sobbed.

“I know,“ he said calmly, his thumb gently wiping away your tears.

“You just left like I meant nothing.. Like we were nothing,“ you sniffled, wiping away tears and covering your eyes with the back of your hand, “I can never let you get back in my life–“

“Sshh, baby..“ he shushed and carefully moved your hand away so he could see your sad face.

“We can talk about it in the morning,“ he said calmly while softly kissing your hand.

“...You’ll stay overnight?“ You asked hiccuping.

“Of course.“

“...Promise?“

“I promise,“ he said and pressed his lips on yours in a soft kiss. You closed your eyes and kissed him back while bringing your arms around his neck.

You knew you shouldn’t trust any of his promises, which more often than not were deceitful. But wanting to believe that he’d stay to sort unfinished feelings out with you, you decided to shut down your blabbering mind and forget your hate and grief.

After you calmed down, he slowly began thrusting into you again, devouring your silent moans. He pulled away from your lips and looked at your glossy eyes.

“You don’t mind if I get a little rough..?” He asked.

You shook your head, feeling out of breath, “No..I don’t mind,” you whispered.

He kissed you again with more passion, bringing his hand into your hair and grasping a chunk of it. You hummed into the kiss and ran your hands through his white hair. As he started thrusting into you again, you pulled away for air and leaned your head back in pleasure.

He placed his arms on the sides of you and began pounding into you faster and harder. Your face distorted in pure bliss, loud moans tumbling down your lips. You wrapped your legs around him and scratched his back, leaving small trails on the surface of his skin.

He was rough, merciless when abusing that sweet spot inside you. Every time his cock dragged past it, you couldn’t stop yourself from writhing in pleasure. Sheets beneath were getting moist as your slick dripped out each time he slammed into you.

He was grunting in pleasure, his hot breath brushing against the shell of your ear. You could feel pleasure building up in your lower belly and you bit your bottom lip, your walls clenching as your bliss was getting closer and closer.

“..T-Touya..”

“Ahh.. Yeah baby.. Cum all over my cock,” he groaned while picking up the pace.

Your toes curled and your body shivered as he pounded into you harder, sending you over the edge. You closed your eyes, arched your back and cried out when reaching your heaven. Your fingers grasping desperately the sheets as your pussy clenched around his cock in steady pulses.

Touya was breathing heavily and he stopped for a moment, wanting to adore the lovely sight of you. A thin sheen of sweat covered your skin, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath with bliss written all over your features.

Slowly opening your hazy eyes, you were met with his warm grin. You showed him a tired, yet genuine smile and he leaned in to press a kiss on your lips.

As he pulled away, he nuzzled your nose, “Would you get on all fours for me, baby..?“ He asked with a husky voice.

“Mmh..“ You complied.

Touya pulled out of your heat, wrapping a hand around his cock and rubbing a few relieving pumps while watching you turn around and get on your hands and knees. Arching your back, you leaned forward and spread your legs.

His cock twitched at the beautiful sight of your messy cunt. He grabbed your ass cheek and squeezed the soft skin hard enough so that he could see your puffy folds parting a little.

Lining his cock with your sloppy hole, he entered your warm, wet pussy again. You moaned, face distorting and your lips falling agape from the sweet pleasure.

Touya grabbed your hips and started thrusting in and out of you with a steady pace. Loud slapping noise echoed from the walls of your bedroom along with your desperate moans.

Your fingers clenched the sheets and your head hung from the waves of pleasure washing over you. There was no hesitation in your mind anymore, all critical thinking was thrown out the window when he fucked you like this.

Touya grasped your ass cheeks bruisingly, spreading them to see how his slick-coated cock disappeared into the depths of your pussy. Breathy pants fell down his lips and a tiny drop of sweat trailed down his temple to his scarred jaw.

His thrusts became harder and it made the strings of your bed creak and more of your slick dripped down your legs. Your pussy was so wet and tight, pleasuring him ever so good.

He grasped your neck and pressed your head down on the mattress, leaning himself over your smaller body. His hands balled into fists on both sides of you and with a better pose, he started slamming into you harder. He was so drunk on your little cunt that his instincts were completely taken over by the need to cum.

His balls, slapping against your wet dripping pussy, were starting to tighten in approaching orgasm, making his thrusts erratic and sloppy. Your legs couldn’t take such pounding and they caved, but Touya kept going, bringing a hand to your throat and leaning his weight on his other arm.

“I’m gonna cum inside you baby…” He panted, giving a few rough thrusts before gritting his teeth and spilling his seeds inside you. A whimper passed your lips as he held you still and emptied his balls inside you.

Sighing in a pleased manner, he descended from his high and loosened his grip on you while carefully pulling out. He collapsed on his back beside you, trying to catch his breath while you were panting next to him.

Your cheeks felt hot and as the pleasureful mist cleared from your mind, you realized you were craving for him to hold you. But since you weren’t a couple anymore, you thought such intimacy didn’t belong in casual hookups.

But gladly he decided otherwise and wrapped his arms around your weary body, pulling you with your back against his chest.

“I knew you’d still cum fast,” he pointed out with a grin in which you rolled your eyes.

“Right,” you mumbled and hesitated for a second.

“So… Will you stay over like you promised..?” You asked.

“Of course,” he said and kissed your temple.

***

Your night was peaceful and calm. Perhaps falling asleep in the arms of the man you still loved had brought you some sort of comfort. But when the breeze of the small hours fluttered the curtains of your bedroom window and woke you up, you weren’t surprised to see an empty space beside you.

Your tired eyes, half-lidded and blank, stared at the spot where Touya had slept. A sleepy frown made its way on your face as you were disappointed to have let yourself believe that this time he’d actually keep his promise.

Slowly getting up, you dragged yourself beside the window and stared outside. Early morning was beginning to chase away the darkness from the streets, along with the people who preferred to linger in it.

You closed the window and a small puff of chilly air made your hair flow momentarily. Feeling rather foolish, it occurred to you that in order to avoid sinking into ridiculous lies again, you really should start locking up the windows.

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leviethinsaint · 1 month ago

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“Oh now it’s ‘more, touya’, ‘please, touya,’” he sneers, nose pressed to your cheek as his warm breath fans over your skin. His fingers dig harder into your face, keeping you turned away and unable to kiss him. It’s humiliating as he pulls more sounds and pleas from you, knowing you want nothing more than to shut yourself up with his mouth.

“What happened to all that fuckin’ venom from a second ago? What happened to ‘I hate you, Touya’?” He snarls, hips slowing as you press your lips onto a thin line, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of hearing you cry out for him again.

His teeth sink into your cheek hard enough that you hiss in pain, fingers gripping his hair to yank his head back, twisting in his grasp to glare at him, both of you panting, teeth bared.

“I do fucking hate you,” you hiss, and his hips snap against you hard in retaliation, his cockhead smashing into that spongey spot inside you. Your eyes roll back as he forces all the air out of your lungs, whatever hateful words you had ready dying on your tongue as your brain goes fuzzy. He’s quick to notice, angling his hips to hone in on that spot, his pace quickening.

“Hate you so fucking much,” you manage to choke out as that coil in your stomach tightens faster and faster, and your cunt tightens around him.

He knows you’re close, and for the third time since he’s shoved you up against the wall, he snatches your orgasm from your grasp, his hips stilling.

A broken sob crawls it’s way from your throat and you squeeze your eyes shut to stop the tears from spilling down your cheeks.

He taps your cheek firmly with one finger to get your attention, your face still firmly in his grasp and you level him with a glare filled with as much hate as you can muster. He’s completely unbothered, but you do notice his blue eyes softening as he leans forward, peppering kisses over your cheeks.

“Oh, sweet girl,” he sighs out, tracing an invisible path along your face with his lips. “I promise I’ll let you cum as soon as you stop lying to me,” he breathes, lips ghosting over yours. His mouth twitches in a grin when you inhale sharply, when you tilt forward a little bit, eyes fluttering shut at his soothing tone.

“Just admit you love me and I’ll make you cum on my cock.”

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leviethinsaint · 1 month ago

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Close Quarters

Part 2 of 2

(Part 1)

Summary: The thrilling conclusion to Part 1.

Pairing: Loki x Fem Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+ (Minors DNI), dirty talk, praise kink, fingering, elevator sex, a hint of dom/sub, Dom Loki, Reader gets a little bratty, little bit of a sir kink, cunnilingus, blow jobs, filth.

A/N: I know I usually choose a Loki GIF but Thomas Sharpe seemed…more appropriate. I’ve got a couple more one shots with these idiots, so if you want to see more, lemme know.

Mercifully, the hallway is empty.

You imagine that your exit from the elevator looks as scandalous as what happened inside it. You are draped in Loki’s arms, still out of breath and a little glassy eyed from the two earth shattering orgasms that he’d given you only minutes prior. In contrast, Loki looks relatively put together and intently focused, like there’s nothing more important on this earth than getting you both back to your suite as quickly as possible. That thought gives you a bit of a thrill—the idea of you wanting him is not necessarily new or unusual, but the idea that he might want you just as much is utterly thrilling.

It occurs to you that you’re in rather close proximity to his neck and it seems like a shame to let that opportunity go to waste. You press your lips against the pulse point in his throat and lazily make your way along his jaw. His breath hitches when you catch his earlobe between your teeth.

“Are you trying to ensure that I take you in the hallway, Mrs. Pine?” he says, his voice dropping deep.

“I won’t be able to scream for you in the hallway,” you breathe into his ear, “and I kinda think you want that.”

“Minx,” he growls, picking up his pace just slightly as you resume kissing his neck.

“I take it that means I’m right,” you say. “Or that I’m in for it when we get back to the room.”

He chuckles. “Oh, it’s both, darling.”

You shiver and nip at his earlobe once more.

Loki drops the glamor as soon as the door to your room shuts behind you and while you like the cropped blond hair of Jonathan Pine, there is something about his natural long, dark locks that drives you wild.

“Let’s me make two things clear, Agent,” he says as he carries you into the bedroom. “First: there are no covers in here; I want you screaming my name when you come. Second—” he sets you down at the foot of the bed. “—I want to taste your pretty cunt.”

Heat and tension coil in your hips. “I can agree to both of those things.”

“Good. Undress.”

He watches as you slowly strip off your swimsuit, his eyes greedy and hungry. Once you’re completely naked, he gives himself a moment to look you over in full, unconsciously licking his lips when his gaze falls on your breasts and hips, his eyes devouring every inch of you. Finally, he nods at the foot of the bed. “Sit.”

You sit down on the bed and he begins unbuttoning his shirt. He takes his time and you watch, enraptured by the slow reveal of his well-muscled chest and taut, flat stomach. The shirt is discarded on the floor with your swimsuit. He undoes his belt, then the button and zip on his shorts.

He’s wearing black boxer briefs, which surprises you—you had assumed that his preference was likely to go commando. But honestly, the boxer briefs are so fitted that the effect is essentially the same: they cling to every dip and swell and leave absolutely nothing to the imagination. The material is taut across his thighs and his cock strains hard at the fabric. If pressed, you could probably create a reasonably accurate sketch based on this view alone.

You don’t have terribly long to contemplate this, though—he kneels in front of you, pulling you in for a slow kiss, his large hands cupping your breasts. His kiss is thorough and sensual, but the addition of his hands kneading your breasts and gently teasing and pinching the sensitive skin of your nipples may actually send you into the stratosphere.

And then he lowers his mouth to your breast and you lose the ability to form coherent thoughts. He strokes his tongue lazily on your nipple in slow circles, lightly teasing the hardened bud with his teeth and bringing another flood of slick arousal to your cunt. Your hips rock fruitlessly against nothing, seeking friction to ease the throbbing pulse of your clit.

You sigh, letting your eyes close and your head tip back, your fingers tangling in his hair. After a moment, you reach for his free hand and guide it between your legs. His fingers dip between your legs, collecting your slickness and gently rolling against your clit.

You moan and he draws back, eyes dark. “Lie back,” he says softly.

You recline on the bed and his focus shifts to you spread out before him. “Lovely,” he says. He is being sincere—and there’s a power in that that thrills you, that sends even more heat and slick to your aching cunt.

When he’s looked his fill, he brings both of your legs over his broad shoulders. He lowers his head to your cunt slowly, first dipping down to inhale your scent and then with one wicked grin, slipping the warm blade of his tongue between your folds.

Your exhale is shaky and turns into a soft whine in the back of your throat as he licks a long, broad stripe from your entrance up to your clit.

“Fuck, Loki.” His name falls from your lips unbidden. You prop yourself up on your elbows and drink in the sight of him between your legs, head bowed like he is worshiping at the most sacred and solemn altar.

In the elevator, he was determined to make you come as quickly as possible; now, though, in the privacy of your room, he seems intent on taking his time and building you up achingly slowly. His tongue laves over your clit at a leisurely pace, teasing and tasting and sucking until he finds the rhythm and movement that makes you try to press your quaking thighs together because it feels so incredible. He gently presses your legs back open, keeping you spread and fully at the mercy of the rolling waves of pleasure that his mouth is creating. One of his long and elegant fingers slides inside of you and curls, pressing against that sweet, soft spot that makes your hips buck and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

When a second finger joins the first a few minutes later, you know that it won’t be much longer. Loki looks up at you, lust-glazed eyes glittering like he knows that too.

You approach the edge slowly, your breath coming in rolling gasps, your hands gripping his hair. He watches you, his gaze both hungry and mischievous. You bite your lip, breath stuttering as you furrow your brow against that final ascent.

And then the tension finally snaps and your head tips back as you tumble off the edge and into your climax, your free fall as decadent and shiver-inducing as the beautifully slow buildup.

You don’t manage to gasp his name because the concept of words has fled you entirely and the only sound that escapes your lips is a sharp cry. From the glint in his eye and the low groan of approval offered against your clit, Loki doesn’t seem to mind at all.

The aftershocks roll through you in rippling waves that make your toes curl and it takes you a moment to catch your breath.

“I confess, I’m quite tempted to stay here all night,” says Loki, placing a gentle kiss on your clit. “You have the sweetest cunt.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” you say, your words slurred with pleasure.

“Hardly.” He licks you very slowly from your entrance to your clit and you sigh, running your fingers through his hair. He repeats the same circuit twice more.

“In fact,” he murmurs, placing another kiss on your clit, “I think I may need another taste.” Another lingering kiss, his tongue teasing your entrance. You suck in a shuddering breath.

“One more.” Another long stroke of his tongue and you shiver again.

“Darling, I’m so sorry—” a quick kiss to your clit, “—but I think I’m going to have to make you come again. I'm simply famished.”

Your back arches and you moan as his mouth once again envelopes your clit and his fingers slide back inside you, curling into that soft, sweet spot. You’re a little sensitive, but he’s moving with such achingly perfect precision that you can already feel another orgasm starting to build in your hips.

The ascent is much quicker this time, and you soon find yourself whimpering and panting, your hands tangling again in his hair. He groans against you and you swear you feel the vibrations shimmer all along your aching core.

“Please,” you moan. “Please. I’m so close. Please.”

He lets you ride the edge for a little bit longer, despite your pleas and your iron grip on his hair. But after a minute or so, he seems to take pity on you and he increases his pace just slightly. Your orgasm blossoms in your hips, your cunt clamping down on his fingers as you moan his name to the ceiling.

“That’s my good girl,” he purrs a moment later, as his fingers coax you through the aftershocks. He looks you over, licking his lips. “You’re gorgeous like this, you know,” he says, eyes dragging greedily over your body. “Naked and utterly fucked out. Perfection.”

You shiver and slowly convince your loose muscles to allow you to sit up. “I don’t think you can say I’m fucked out if you haven’t actually fucked me.”

His eyebrow arches, “Is that so?”

You scoot to the edge of the bed so that you can run your hands over his firm chest. You press a kiss just above his belly button, tongue flicking out briefly against his skin. “Seems reasonable to me.”

“Do you want me to fuck you, Agent?” he says, his voice dropping low.

“I mean, that’s what I was hinting at, yes,” you say.

His eyes are hooded as he gives you a sly, calculating smile. “But do you deserve to be fucked, Agent?”

Feeling a little bold, you place your palm flat against the substantial bulge in his boxer briefs, running your hand along the hard, thick length of him. Fuck, he’s big. “Yes,” you say.

“I’m not so sure about that,” he says, his expression and voice deliciously stern despite your hand on his cock. “You’ve been quite pert. Disobedient. Mouthy.”

You think you have an idea where this is going. “So am I getting punished or begging for you to forgive me?” you ask with a coy smile.

The hunger and delight in his gaze makes you ache. “Let’s see what your smart mouth can do to my cock and maybe then I’ll consider fucking you.”

You lick your lips and trace your fingertips along the sharp lines of his Adonis belt, pausing at the waistband of his boxer briefs. You hook your fingertips under the elastic and pull them down.

His cock springs free as the fabric falls to the floor. Between sitting on his lap and the unsubtle nature of the boxer briefs, you knew he was long and thick, but you’re still not fully prepared to experience the full effect of seeing his cock be hard and ready for you.

“Fuck,” you breathe. You take a moment to admire him, despite the fact that you know it’s likely only inflating his ego.

“Do you want me, Agent?” he drawls with a lazy smile. “Do you want my cock?”

“I think you know the answer to that,” you say. “In fact, I’m certain you do.”

“Perhaps I like hearing you say it,” he says, bringing one hand up to stroke your cheek. “Would that be such a terrible thing?”

Impulsively, you get to your feet and pull him into a kiss. You can still taste yourself on him—salty and a little sweet.

“You like hearing me talk about how I want you?” you say, pressing your hips against his.

“Very much.” His voice is a low purr and you shiver in his arms.

“I’m aching for you to fill me,” you murmur, leaning in to kiss him. “I’m dripping just thinking about it.” You nip at his lower lip and he groans against your mouth. “But first, I want to get on my knees and worship your perfect cock with my mouth.”

There's a low, pleased rumble deep in his chest and you shiver as you draw away. “Sit down.”

He sits down on the foot of the bed and you position yourself in front of him, standing between his spread thighs and lowering yourself to your knees. You run your hands up his thighs, lightly dragging your fingernails along his skin, enjoying the slight hitch in his breath. You kiss the inside of his left knee and slowly make your way up the inside of his left thigh, dragging your tongue along his skin every so often. You continue this all the way up to the crease where his thigh meets his hip, close enough that he can feel the heat of your breath on his beautiful cock.

And then you lean back and begin the same process again on his right leg.

“What,” he says, his voice going deep and dark, “did I say about playing games, Agent?”

You tilt your head to look up at him. He’s staring down at you with a stern look that makes your cunt clench.

“You know, I came so hard earlier, I can’t quite recall,” you say, making your eyes as wide and innocent as you can.

“And if you want to come again tonight, you’ll find a way to remember,” he says. He’s stern and authoritative, and it’s ridiculously hot. “Now put that smart mouth to work on my cock,” he growls.

“Yes, sir.” The phrase just sort of slips out, but the way it makes your cunt ache and his eyes glitter is absolutely delicious.

“Oh, I like those manners, pet,” he purrs. “I want to hear more of that.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you say, pausing to lick your lips, “sir.”

“Good girl.”

His cock is flushed and so hard it presses up against his stomach. You wrap one hand around his shaft and you suck in a breath when your fingers don’t quite meet. He’s huge and the thought of having him inside of you makes you shiver and ache in anticipation.

You stroke him once and lower your mouth to the tip of his cock, placing gentle, closed mouth kisses on it.

He tolerates this for about thirty seconds.

“Agent.” His voice is laced with warning. “I won’t warn you again.”

Your lips curl into a slight smile and you flick your tongue against the tip of his cock, savoring the sharp tang of his pre-come. His eyes glitter down at you, still watching, waiting for you to disobey him.

“Am I not allowed to savor this experience?” you ask, intentionally licking your lips.

“I would urge you to consider that only good girls get to come on my cock, darling,” he says, his voice going dark and deliciously stern. “Choose your next moves wisely.”

The reality is that you desperately want to come on his cock and you wouldn’t put it past him to deny you. So, you offer him a sly smirk before you slowly begin to lick the tip of his cock, gradually opening your lips and bringing him into your mouth.

He groans softly. “You just need a firm hand, don’t you?” he says as you begin to move your head, stroking his shaft in a slow rhythm. His fingers card through your hair as he leans back on one hand, allowing himself to relax a little. “Or perhaps it’s that you want my cock more than you want to be a brat.”

You look up at him and raise an eyebrow. He’s not wrong.

He laughs low in his throat. “Oh, I think I’m going to have you taking my orders by the time the week is up.” He reaches out to stroke your cheek with his thumb. “You have such a needy little cunt and I rather think that will prove to be an advantage for me.”

Your instinct is to let out a low whine, but you also don’t want to give him the satisfaction. You can’t fully stop yourself from reacting, though, and a soft whimper makes its way out of your lips.

He catches this and smirks. “You like being mouthy and talking back, but I think you also crave a little discipline. Being told what to do gets you off, doesn’t it?”

This time, you do whine and he smiles down at you, eyes hooded. “That works out rather nicely,” he says, his voice dropping deep, “because I quite enjoy giving orders.”

You shiver and he notices, running his fingers through your hair.

“Filthy girl,” he purrs. “We’re going to have so much fun together.” He watches you for a minute, eyes hooded, lips slightly parted. “You’re gorgeous like this, too, you know,” he says. “On your knees with my cock in your mouth like a good girl. I could watch this for hours.” You glance up at him and catch his lazy smile. “Though,” he continues, “I suspect you’ll also look gorgeous riding my cock. Or perhaps spread out and tied to the bed.”

This image is too much for you: a high pitched whine makes its way out of your throat before you can think better of it.

“Oh, you like that idea?” he says, not sounding very surprised at all. “You like the thought of being bound and completely at my mercy?”

Another embarrassing whine escapes you before you can stop it.

“We’ll have to explore that some time this week,” he says. “Though I am starting to develop a rather lengthy list of things I want to do to you.”

Fuck. You are caught between wanting him to keep talking and wanting him to shut up so you stop making such embarrassing noises.

Admittedly, the idea of making him feel so good that you render him speechless is also incredibly appealing.

You suck just a little harder, cheeks hollowing as you start running your tongue along the underside of his shaft, swirling it on the tip as you come up.

His eyebrows draw together, his lips parting slightly. “Fuck. That’s it.”

You pick up your pace just a little and he groans, his hand going to grip your hair.

“Yes—just like that.” His grip tightens on your hair. “If your cunt is even half as good as your mouth—fuck, yes, right there—I’m going to have a hard time leaving this room this week.”

You hum against his cock and he groans, his hips starting to rock toward your mouth. “Do you like this?” he asks, his voice husky. “Do you like being on your knees for me?”

You moan against his cock, sucking harder.

“You do, don’t you?” he says, his voice a little unsteady. “Barely an hour and you’re already such a slut for my cock.”

You moan again, bobbing your head up and down his length.

“Such a good girl,” he purrs. “A bit of a brat to start, but I think I’m going to have to reward you for this. Your mouth is too fucking good.”

Another moan slips past your lips. He groans and is quiet for a minute or two, his hips rocking toward you.

His breath is coming in shaky gasps now. “I’m close, love,” he says, his fingers flexing in your hair. “I’m going to spill myself in your pretty mouth and then I’m going to fuck you into the mattress.”

You can’t help but moan, which seems to spur him on. His lips part and you can almost feel how close he is.

He makes the most beautiful noise as he comes, a low groan that seems to reverberate in your cunt as he empties himself into your mouth. You swallow his release greedily as you continue stroking him, your head moving up and down his length.

You pull off of him slowly, licking your lips and you look up at him, your mouth curling into a smirk. “So, was that a proper enough apology for you?” you ask.

He growls low in his chest, eyes opening to look down at you. “You are still far too pert for your own good,” he says. “I suspect I’m going to have to put you over my knee at some point this week. You need discipline.”

You suck in a deep breath as your cunt clenches at the possibility.

“But right now, I need to fuck you.” He gestures to the bed. “Get up here. Now.”

You don’t need any encouragement to follow this command, but the way that he delivers the order and the way his green eyes get all steely is enough for more slickness to collect between your legs. You clamber to your feet, but before you can even try getting on the bed, he’s pulling you to him and flipping you onto your back. He rolls on top of you, caging you in with his body, his impossibly hard cock throbbing against your stomach.

He kisses you, tongue pressing into your mouth, hungry and claiming. “Do you want me inside you?” he purrs against your lips. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

“I need you to fuck me,” you say, spreading your legs and tilting your pelvis up toward him. “I want you to claim me.”

His smile is sharp and he drags the tip of his cock along your cunt, coating himself in your slickness. “Still so fucking wet,” he growls.

“I told you I need you,” you murmur.

He lines himself up at your entrance and ever so slowly begins easing into you. He presses forward, inch by glorious inch, until his hips are flush against yours.

“Oh fuck,” you breathe. “You feel so good.”

He smiles and withdraws just an inch or two before pressing back in. You arch underneath him and let out a soft moan.

“How about that? Is that good?” he asks.

You moan and nod.

He repeats the action. “And this?”

You offer up another moan and he grins. He repeats the action again, clearly teasing you. “What about this one?”

“Loki, please—”

“What is it darling?”

You’re not quite sure if you want to kiss or slap that smirk right off his face.

“Please don’t stop, please—”

“Oh, you want me to keep doing this?” he says, his brow furrowing in mock confusion. “You should have said something.”

“Loki, please—”

He chuckles quietly and begins rocking his hips against yours in slow, shallow thrusts. You sigh and wrap your legs around his waist, meeting his mouth as he kisses you. You can tell he’s holding back, though.

“I’m not going to break,” you finally say, tilting your hips to rock with his. “I want more. I want you to fuck me.”

He kisses you hard and his thrusts lengthen and deepen, his pace increasing just a hair, and you cry out because he’s now hitting that soft, sweet spot and he feels even better.

“You’re taking me so well, darling,” he says. “This snug little cunt was made for my cock, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” you breathe, arching your back. “Fuck, that’s so good.”

He wraps those long fingers around your ankles and brings your legs up so that they are draped over his shoulders, your body folded in half. He thrusts again and his cock presses even deeper, rubbing against that tender spot inside you. His thumb finds your clit and you whimper. Pressure is starting to build in your hips again.

“You’re getting close already, aren’t you?” he rasps, grinning at you like a devil. “I can feel you starting to tremble.”

You keen, your cunt clenching around his steadily thrusting cock.

“Are you going to be a good girl and come on my cock?” he growls.

You nod, words somewhere beyond you.

“I want you to soak my cock,” he purrs. “Let it all out. Scream for me.”

You feel yourself poised on the edge. So close.

“Come for me, darling, that’s it, let go, come for me, let me feel that sweet cunt milk me dry…”

You arch your back as your orgasm blossoms and unfurls. The sound that falls from your lips is a high pitched keening that would be Loki’s name, except there’s no space for anything besides this incredible feeling, his cock inside you, and the weight of him on top of you.

“Oh there you go, that’s it,” he murmurs. “You have the tightest, most exquisite cunt. I could fuck you for days.”

You moan, shuddering in the final throes, your cunt spasming around his thick cock. He withdraws for a moment and you moan at the loss, but he quickly flips you onto your stomach and slides right back inside you.

From this angle, his cock thrusts even deeper, pressing more directly against your G-spot. A few strokes in and it becomes glaringly apparent to you that you’re going to come again.

“You’re insatiable, aren’t you?” he pants, thrusting hard into you. “I can feel you starting to tremble already.”

You moan into the comforter, arching your back so he hits that spot again.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he scolds, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you up so your back is flush against his chest. “I want to hear every filthy little sound that you make. Every. Last. One.” He thrusts in time with those last three words and you moan.

“You love this, don’t you?” he growls, his hips thrusting hard. “You love me taking you from behind like a fucking animal.”

Your legs are shaking and you can feel your orgasm building. “Loki, I’m gonna come again,” you whimper.

“I know you are, sweet girl,” he growls. “I can feel your tight cunt trembling.” His free hand slides between your legs, fingers rolling over your clit in the same rhythm as his thrusting cock.

Your breath stutters and a low whine escapes your lips. You are deliciously close.

“Please.” Your voice is barely a gasp. You’re riding the very edge of that wave and it feels so good that you’re almost certain the oncoming climax couldn’t possibly feel better. Almost.

“Oh, you’re almost there, love, you can do it,” says Loki, his hand still moving with his hips. “You just need to let go.”

You whimper. You are almost there.

“Be my good girl and let go for me,” he rasps. “Come for me.”

It breaks quite suddenly, your whole body shuddering and your cunt clamping down hard on his cock as you come. The noise you make is animalistic, torn from somewhere deep in your chest.

“Fuck!” Loki is fucking you hard, hips pistoning against your ass. “So fucking tight, you’re like a vise when you come, fuck—” His speech gives way into either Asgardian or Old Norse—you’re not quite sure which, but the idea that you’ve made him feel good enough to abandon English is incredibly appealing.

You’re dreamily floating back down from your high when you hear him make that beautiful noise again, that low, deep groan that falls from his lips only when he comes. You feel his release flood your cunt, hot and thick, as his hips finally start to slow.

It’s another minute or two before he rolls off you, flopping down next to you on the bed. Before you even have a moment to miss him or the comforting weight of his body on yours, he’s wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close.

You both lie there for a long moment, catching your breath.

You think back to your initial meeting with Fury, when you complained about being sent in with Loki. You’ve never been more pleased to be wrong in your entire life.

“So,” you say once you feel capable of speech, “you said you had some ideas for the rest of the week?”

If you thought his grin was devilish before, it’s nothing compared to what he looks like now as he pulls you on top of him.

“Darling,” he says, his voice dropping an octave. “I thought you’d never ask.”

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