Strawberries
Title: Strawberries
Author: jaune_chat
Fandom: Heroes
Characters/Pairings: Luke/Elle
Rating: NC-17 for sex
Wordcount: 1,551
Spoilers: Do you know who Luke Campbell and Elle Bishop are? Then you’re good.
Warnings: pegging, PWP
Disclaimer: Heroes belongs to Tim Kring, NBC et al.
A/N: This was written for Heroes Rare Pairs Meme for the prompt: “Luke/Elle, pegging.”
Summary: Luke needs something special, and Elle is just the girl who wants to give it to him.
“Come on,” Elle gasped, back arching, nails biting into Luke’s shoulder. “Come on!”
Luke’s arms were trembling as he braced himself over Elle, thrusting shallowly, moaning softly when she clamped down around him for the second time. She was so sweet, so tight and soft and close. He wanted to let go, wanted to bury himself completely in her… Wanted to, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t make himself let go.
Dropping his head to her shoulder, he desperately sucked and nibbled on the sweat-slick skin of her neck, smelling her unique combination of clean soap, strawberries, and ozone. If he could just find something, some extra little nudge that would send him over the edge, he could stop without embarrassing himself. How the hell could he tell his girlfriend, a blonde bombshell who actually seemed to like him that he, an apparently horny teen some six years her junior, could bring her off twice but couldn’t come while he was in her?
Not only would that pretty much kill the whole sex part of the relationship, but Elle might actually kill him. Or just fry him a little. Either way, it would turn into a no-nookie situation.
“Luke?” Elle asked softly. Luke realized he had stopped moving, still hard within her, but still and half-collapsed on top of her, slick with sweat.
“I’m sorry, I-,” Luke started, heart starting to thump with panic. “It’s not you, I just-.”
Elle gave him a “Dude, seriously, just spit it out,” look.
“I just can’t, um…” Luke stammered to a halt, almost wishing he could just lose his hard-on and claim sexual dysfunction. How fucked up was he, that at eighteen he’d rather claim he needed Viagra than admit his kinks to his girlfriend? But he couldn’t even get that reprieve; his balls must be a dark shade of blue by now. He wanted her, hell yes, but-.
“Can’t come?” Elle asked casually, lacing her hands behind her head. Luke stared at her in disbelief. How could women be so casual about this shit?
Luke flushed red with profound shame and pulled away from her, sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands, dick swollen and throbbing and downright fucking painful.
“You want to do something else?” Elle slithered down the bed next to him, resting her head on his shoulder, one slender hand sliding down his hip and over to his groin. Her touch was too much on his over-sensitive skin, and he jerked away involuntarily.
“Sorry! Sorry,” Luke said quickly, when Elle eyes narrowed in a way that preceded an electrical burst that would blackout a ten-block radius. “Yeah, I do, but-.”
“But what?” she asked in irritation, standing, hands on her hips and hair standing on end from the current dancing over her skin. “You gave me what I wanted, lover boy, so either you spit it out or I’m gonna leave you here to deal with it alone!”
Head buzzing from shame, Luke stood up and pulled Elle into a rough embrace. Before he lost his nerve, he grabbed her hand and pulled it around behind him, positioning her fingers low and deep.
“Oh!” Elle got it immediately after that. Neither of them ever said “Sylar” when they were together; that was an unwritten rule. But both of them had gotten more than their fair share of kinks from him. Elle’s smile suddenly turned predatory, and she laid a finger across his lips. “Shh, I got just what you want. Stay here.”
Luke waited, feeling like the world’s biggest failure as a boyfriend, until Elle yelled back from the other room. “Do you like orange, strawberry, or bubble gum best?”
“Uh…” Luke had a sudden memory of drinking strawberry pop as a kid, and smelling Elle’s strawberry shampoo; he guessed anything Elle was asking his flavor preference for better be something he liked a lot. “Strawberry!”
Elle came back in a minute later, holding a tangle of what looked like black leather straps, and a large… Oh yes. Oh hell fucking yes. In one corner of his mind, Luke wondered if Elle had somehow managed to get a mold made of Sylar during one of the times he’d been in the Company, because it looked nearly perfect.
The straps confused him for a second until Elle began to buckle and snap them around her waist, smoothing out the leather, positioning the center piece right in front of her slick folds. Luke felt his mouth dropping open when he realized what he was going to get. Everything he ever wanted from Elle, and everything he ever needed from Sylar, all at the same time. The steady, aching throb in his cock started to move up a notch.
With a flourish, Elle produced a bottle of lube and slathered the shorter end of the dildo generously. She slid it through the center piece and just into her folds, penetrating her shallowly. Her breath hitched a bit when she did it, and then she sighed in contentment, turning her eyes to Luke. Luke didn’t think he’d seen anything hotter before, Elle in black leather, hands on her hips, looking hell-bent on fucking him.
“So, want to get this warmed up for you?” she asked, waving the bottle in his direction. Luke didn’t need to be asked twice. He dropped to his knees, the intense smell of strawberries in his nose as he poured the lube into his hand and rubbed it along the vein-textured surface of the dildo. The skin couldn’t slide like he was used to, but the size, the girth and length, the rounded head, was all so much like he remembered that it was easy to slide his tongue down its length, slip it into his mouth, run his hands up and down the shaft.
The strawberry smell seemed to spur him on, make him harder as he wrapped his mouth around the fake cock, forgetting for long moments that this was only Elle, and desperately tried to please someone who had never been in this room.
“Luke?” Elle’s breathless voice jarred him out of his reverie, and he pulled his mouth off the dildo with a wet pop. “God, that’s hot. Come on, turn around, hands on the bed.”
Her face was flushed and red with desire, matching Luke’s as he shoved his ass back, writhing down on Elle’s fingers as she quickly prepped him. After being with Sylar so long, he didn’t need much, but just the feel of her small hand and the renewed scent of strawberries made him moan. He didn’t care if he sounded like a two-dollar whore at this point; his ass was aching and empty, and only having someone fill him up was ever going to get him off.
And Luke was embarrassingly grateful that Elle was willing to do this for him.
The first slick touch against his opening sent him rigid as he tried not to shove back all at once. “Elle… please. I can’t-,” Luke gasped. She got exactly where he was coming from, and suddenly slammed home in a single powerful thrust. It took everything he had not to collapse right there at the spike of crippling pleasure that shot through his body at the rough treatment.
“Oh fuck, fuck Elle, so good,” he gasped out in between thrusts. Her hands were locked on his hips, dragging him back onto her, twisting just a bit, here, there, until Luke’s moans had reached a low pitch of pure need.
His muscles were twitching and burning as low current ran through him, but he pushed through it, impaling himself deep, feeling Elle’s small fingers and sharp nails digging into his hips. Every stroke was so hard, so deep, just what he needed to have from her. From her, not him, not Sylar. He wanted Elle’s hands on his skin, Elle’s cries in his ears, Elle’s strawberry shampoo scent filling his nose…
“Luke, I’m gonna, are you…?” she gasped, rhythm stuttering. Luke quickly braced himself with one hand so the other could jerk at his cock, hard and almost dripping now with his intense arousal. A half-dozen strokes was all it took, and Luke gabbled something to Elle, feeling her slam into him one last time and hold herself there as he came with a sob. The pleasure and relief were so sharp and mixed it was almost agony, and Luke knew his face was wet with more than sweat before his body had finished riding out its release.
Elle pulled away from him long moments later, slow and careful, and Luke turned around to pull her into a slow and almost desperate kiss. He didn’t want to say thank you, because what was left of Luke’s battered masculine pride couldn’t handle that, but Elle seemed to get it. Figuring out how to get what they needed without unnecessary small talk was something they both shared. In spades.
“So, any time you’re up for a second round of that, I’ll be there. With bells on,” Elle said finally, face lit up with a genuine smile.
Luke bit his lip, but managed a smile back. “Well… just skip the bells. I’ll take it just like you are. With strawberries.”
Giggling, Elle tackled Luke back down on the bed.
Author: jaune_chat
Fandom: Heroes
Characters/Pairings: Luke/Elle
Rating: NC-17 for sex
Wordcount: 1,551
Spoilers: Do you know who Luke Campbell and Elle Bishop are? Then you’re good.
Warnings: pegging, PWP
Disclaimer: Heroes belongs to Tim Kring, NBC et al.
A/N: This was written for Heroes Rare Pairs Meme for the prompt: “Luke/Elle, pegging.”
Summary: Luke needs something special, and Elle is just the girl who wants to give it to him.
“Come on,” Elle gasped, back arching, nails biting into Luke’s shoulder. “Come on!”
Luke’s arms were trembling as he braced himself over Elle, thrusting shallowly, moaning softly when she clamped down around him for the second time. She was so sweet, so tight and soft and close. He wanted to let go, wanted to bury himself completely in her… Wanted to, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t make himself let go.
Dropping his head to her shoulder, he desperately sucked and nibbled on the sweat-slick skin of her neck, smelling her unique combination of clean soap, strawberries, and ozone. If he could just find something, some extra little nudge that would send him over the edge, he could stop without embarrassing himself. How the hell could he tell his girlfriend, a blonde bombshell who actually seemed to like him that he, an apparently horny teen some six years her junior, could bring her off twice but couldn’t come while he was in her?
Not only would that pretty much kill the whole sex part of the relationship, but Elle might actually kill him. Or just fry him a little. Either way, it would turn into a no-nookie situation.
“Luke?” Elle asked softly. Luke realized he had stopped moving, still hard within her, but still and half-collapsed on top of her, slick with sweat.
“I’m sorry, I-,” Luke started, heart starting to thump with panic. “It’s not you, I just-.”
Elle gave him a “Dude, seriously, just spit it out,” look.
“I just can’t, um…” Luke stammered to a halt, almost wishing he could just lose his hard-on and claim sexual dysfunction. How fucked up was he, that at eighteen he’d rather claim he needed Viagra than admit his kinks to his girlfriend? But he couldn’t even get that reprieve; his balls must be a dark shade of blue by now. He wanted her, hell yes, but-.
“Can’t come?” Elle asked casually, lacing her hands behind her head. Luke stared at her in disbelief. How could women be so casual about this shit?
Luke flushed red with profound shame and pulled away from her, sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands, dick swollen and throbbing and downright fucking painful.
“You want to do something else?” Elle slithered down the bed next to him, resting her head on his shoulder, one slender hand sliding down his hip and over to his groin. Her touch was too much on his over-sensitive skin, and he jerked away involuntarily.
“Sorry! Sorry,” Luke said quickly, when Elle eyes narrowed in a way that preceded an electrical burst that would blackout a ten-block radius. “Yeah, I do, but-.”
“But what?” she asked in irritation, standing, hands on her hips and hair standing on end from the current dancing over her skin. “You gave me what I wanted, lover boy, so either you spit it out or I’m gonna leave you here to deal with it alone!”
Head buzzing from shame, Luke stood up and pulled Elle into a rough embrace. Before he lost his nerve, he grabbed her hand and pulled it around behind him, positioning her fingers low and deep.
“Oh!” Elle got it immediately after that. Neither of them ever said “Sylar” when they were together; that was an unwritten rule. But both of them had gotten more than their fair share of kinks from him. Elle’s smile suddenly turned predatory, and she laid a finger across his lips. “Shh, I got just what you want. Stay here.”
Luke waited, feeling like the world’s biggest failure as a boyfriend, until Elle yelled back from the other room. “Do you like orange, strawberry, or bubble gum best?”
“Uh…” Luke had a sudden memory of drinking strawberry pop as a kid, and smelling Elle’s strawberry shampoo; he guessed anything Elle was asking his flavor preference for better be something he liked a lot. “Strawberry!”
Elle came back in a minute later, holding a tangle of what looked like black leather straps, and a large… Oh yes. Oh hell fucking yes. In one corner of his mind, Luke wondered if Elle had somehow managed to get a mold made of Sylar during one of the times he’d been in the Company, because it looked nearly perfect.
The straps confused him for a second until Elle began to buckle and snap them around her waist, smoothing out the leather, positioning the center piece right in front of her slick folds. Luke felt his mouth dropping open when he realized what he was going to get. Everything he ever wanted from Elle, and everything he ever needed from Sylar, all at the same time. The steady, aching throb in his cock started to move up a notch.
With a flourish, Elle produced a bottle of lube and slathered the shorter end of the dildo generously. She slid it through the center piece and just into her folds, penetrating her shallowly. Her breath hitched a bit when she did it, and then she sighed in contentment, turning her eyes to Luke. Luke didn’t think he’d seen anything hotter before, Elle in black leather, hands on her hips, looking hell-bent on fucking him.
“So, want to get this warmed up for you?” she asked, waving the bottle in his direction. Luke didn’t need to be asked twice. He dropped to his knees, the intense smell of strawberries in his nose as he poured the lube into his hand and rubbed it along the vein-textured surface of the dildo. The skin couldn’t slide like he was used to, but the size, the girth and length, the rounded head, was all so much like he remembered that it was easy to slide his tongue down its length, slip it into his mouth, run his hands up and down the shaft.
The strawberry smell seemed to spur him on, make him harder as he wrapped his mouth around the fake cock, forgetting for long moments that this was only Elle, and desperately tried to please someone who had never been in this room.
“Luke?” Elle’s breathless voice jarred him out of his reverie, and he pulled his mouth off the dildo with a wet pop. “God, that’s hot. Come on, turn around, hands on the bed.”
Her face was flushed and red with desire, matching Luke’s as he shoved his ass back, writhing down on Elle’s fingers as she quickly prepped him. After being with Sylar so long, he didn’t need much, but just the feel of her small hand and the renewed scent of strawberries made him moan. He didn’t care if he sounded like a two-dollar whore at this point; his ass was aching and empty, and only having someone fill him up was ever going to get him off.
And Luke was embarrassingly grateful that Elle was willing to do this for him.
The first slick touch against his opening sent him rigid as he tried not to shove back all at once. “Elle… please. I can’t-,” Luke gasped. She got exactly where he was coming from, and suddenly slammed home in a single powerful thrust. It took everything he had not to collapse right there at the spike of crippling pleasure that shot through his body at the rough treatment.
“Oh fuck, fuck Elle, so good,” he gasped out in between thrusts. Her hands were locked on his hips, dragging him back onto her, twisting just a bit, here, there, until Luke’s moans had reached a low pitch of pure need.
His muscles were twitching and burning as low current ran through him, but he pushed through it, impaling himself deep, feeling Elle’s small fingers and sharp nails digging into his hips. Every stroke was so hard, so deep, just what he needed to have from her. From her, not him, not Sylar. He wanted Elle’s hands on his skin, Elle’s cries in his ears, Elle’s strawberry shampoo scent filling his nose…
“Luke, I’m gonna, are you…?” she gasped, rhythm stuttering. Luke quickly braced himself with one hand so the other could jerk at his cock, hard and almost dripping now with his intense arousal. A half-dozen strokes was all it took, and Luke gabbled something to Elle, feeling her slam into him one last time and hold herself there as he came with a sob. The pleasure and relief were so sharp and mixed it was almost agony, and Luke knew his face was wet with more than sweat before his body had finished riding out its release.
Elle pulled away from him long moments later, slow and careful, and Luke turned around to pull her into a slow and almost desperate kiss. He didn’t want to say thank you, because what was left of Luke’s battered masculine pride couldn’t handle that, but Elle seemed to get it. Figuring out how to get what they needed without unnecessary small talk was something they both shared. In spades.
“So, any time you’re up for a second round of that, I’ll be there. With bells on,” Elle said finally, face lit up with a genuine smile.
Luke bit his lip, but managed a smile back. “Well… just skip the bells. I’ll take it just like you are. With strawberries.”
Giggling, Elle tackled Luke back down on the bed.