Hey! What do you think of more Lucas Sinclair x reader smut, please? 🙌🏻❤️
pair: switch!lucas sinclair x switch!fem!reader
warnings: smut / infidelity / p in v / reader has tits and vag / blowjob / hair pulling / nail scratching / creampie / unprotected sex (wrap it) / begging / praise kink sorta
authors: i think yes babe!! ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18 IN THIS SMUT! hi guys so sorry i haven't been posting much i've been swamped with exams and studying. i'm not gonna lie i might be going a bit inactive soon as the next semester starts up, but i promise i will try my damndest to post at least once a week! hope y'all enjoy this!
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You'd always had a weakness for the ones your mother warned you about.
The boys who leaned against the lockers with a cigarette tucked behind their ear, who drove too fast and talked back to teachers. There was a magnetic pull to their danger, a thrilling promise of chaos that made your own carefully-constructed world feel bland and colorless in comparison.
So, of course, your gaze had always been drawn to Lucas Sinclair.
For years, he was an enigma wrapped in a denim jacket, a member of that nerdy, cult-like D&D club, the Hellfire. You'd seen him in the hallways, usually with that freak Eddie Munson, his head bent over some arcane-looking game board, his intense focus making him seem worlds away from the jocks and preps.
He wasn't your usual type; he was a different kind of rebellion, one that didn't care for the approval of the masses, which somehow made him even more alluring. But he was untouchable, a resident of a social stratosphere you didn't dare to enter.
Then, senior year happened. The change was immediate and jarring. One day, Lucas Sinclair was trading his Hellfire shirt for a Hawkins High Tigers jersey.
The boy who once lived in the basement was suddenly soaring under the bright lights of the basketball court. You watched from the bleachers, captivated, as he moved with a newfound, aggressive grace. The same focused intensity he'd once reserved for rolling a twenty-sided die was now channeled into stealing a ball and sinking a three-pointer, his body all lean muscle and coiled energy.
He'd traded one kind of hellfire for another, and the transformation was devastatingly hot. He was still the same sharp, sarcastic guy, but now he had the confidence of an athlete, the swagger of a winner. He was the perfect storm: the smart, dangerous bad boy who could also dominate a court.
You were going to get your hands on him, consequences be damned.
The opportunity presented itself after a crushing victory against their rivals. The locker room air was thick with the smell of sweat and cheap deodorant, the sound of jubilant shouts and running water echoing off the tiled walls.
You found him alone by his locker, pulling his shirt over his head, revealing a torso that was all hard planes and glistening skin. His eyes, dark and intense, found yours instantly. There was no hesitation. You closed the distance between you, your hand pressing flat against his chest, feeling the frantic thrum of his heart beneath your palm.
You looked up, meeting his wide, shocked gaze as your fingers deftly worked the button of his jeans. The fabric pooled around his ankles, and there he was, all hard and ready for you, a testament to his desire.
You leaned in, your warm breath ghosting over the sensitive head of his cock before your tongue darted out for a single, teasing taste.
"Ho-holy shiiiiit... Y-Y/N, fuuuckkk.." Lucas stammered out, one hand flying to the top of his head, his fingers tangling in his own curls in disbelief as your mouth swallowed his dick whole.
Your lips stretched obscenely around the thick, rigid heat of him, the smooth skin of his shaft pressing against your tongue as you took him deeper. Lucas's hips jerked instinctively, a strangled gasp escaping his throat as you hollowed your cheeks, creating a tight, wet suction that made his entire body tremble.
The salty taste of his precum beaded at the tip, and you swirled your tongue around the sensitive head, lapping at the slit before sinking down again until your nose buried itself in the dark curls at his base.
"Fuck, just like that," he groaned, his fingers tangling in your hair as he guided your movements, his other hand gripping the edge of the bed so tightly his knuckles turned white.
You could feel his thighs tensing beneath your hands, the muscles flexing as he fought the urge to thrust into your mouth. You pulled back slightly, letting your teeth graze his shaft just enough to make him hiss, before taking him deep again, your throat constricting around him as you swallowed.
The room filled with the wet, sloppy sounds of your mouth working him over, punctuated by his ragged breaths and the occasional curse when you did something particularly clever with your tongue. You reached up to cup his balls, rolling them gently in your palm as you bobbed your head faster, your free hand stroking the length of him that couldn't fit in your mouth.
Lucas's eyes were screwed shut, his head thrown back in ecstasy as he lost himself in the pleasure you were giving him.
"Y/N, I'm gonna—fuck, I'm gonna cum," he warned, his voice strained as he tried to pull back, but you held him in place, taking him even deeper as you felt him begin to pulse.
With a loud cry, he emptied himself down your throat, his body shuddering violently as you swallowed every last drop, continuing to suck gently until he was completely spent. You pulled back with a satisfied smirk, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as he collapsed against the bed, chest heaving and eyes glazed with satisfaction.
You rose slowly, the muscles in your thighs protesting slightly as you unfurled from your kneeling position. Lucas watched you, his chest still heaving, his dark eyes wide and dazed with the aftershocks of his orgasm. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on his brow, and he looked utterly wrecked in the most beautiful way.
You met his gaze head-on, a slow, deliberate smile curving your lips as you raised your thumb to your mouth, wiping away the pearly drop of cum that had escaped and clung to the corner. His eyes tracked the movement, his breath hitching audibly as you cleaned your finger with your tongue.
The sight seemed to short-circuit his brain. His mouth fell open slightly, a low, guttural moan rumbling in his chest as you brought that same thumb, still glistening and wet, to his lips.
He hesitated for only a fraction of a second before his lips parted, accepting your finger into his warm mouth. He sucked instinctively, his tongue swirling around the pad of your thumb, tasting his own saltiness on your skin.
It was a filthy, intimate gesture, and the sheer submission in his action sent a fresh wave of heat straight to your core.
"You don't have a girlfriend, right?" you asked, your voice a low, husky whisper as you withdrew your thumb.
The question hung in the air between you, charged with an unexpected tension. You saw it then—the flicker of realization, the shadow of hesitation that crossed his features. His brow furrowed slightly, as if he were trying to remember a crucial piece of information in the fog of his pleasure.
For a moment, you almost cared. But then, just as quickly, the thought vanished. You were here, in his room, on your knees for him. Whatever came before this moment was irrelevant. Whatever came after was a problem for tomorrow.
You didn't wait for his answer. With a fluid motion, you swung one leg over his, settling yourself onto his lap. His jeans were still tangled around his ankles, trapping him, and the rough denim scraped against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. He let out a soft, helpless whimper as your weight settled on him, his shaky, uncertain hands finally finding purchase on your waist. His grip was tentative at first, his fingers trembling as they pressed into the fabric of your shirt, but the heat of his touch burned through you.
His eyes were locked on yours, a mixture of surrender and raw desire swirling in their depths.
The moment the words left his lips, you crashed your mouth against his. It wasn't a gentle kiss; it was a clash of teeth and tongues, a desperate, hungry meeting that tasted of his release and your unbridled ambition.
Lucas responded with a fervor that bordered on frantic, his hands sliding from your waist to grip the back of your thighs, pulling you impossibly closer. The kiss deepened, a messy, passionate tangle as he poured all his pent-up desire into you.
You ground down against him, the friction of his jeans against your thin underwear sending jolts of electricity through your body, making you gasp into his mouth.
His desperation was a palpable thing, a raw energy that fueled your own. With a sudden, surprising burst of strength, he wrapped his arms around you and twisted, rolling you both over in one fluid motion.
The world spun for a second before your back hit the softness of his mattress. He was on top of you now, his weight a delicious pressure that pinned you in place, his knees bracketing your hips. The shift in power was instantaneous, and the look in his eyes was no longer one of surrender but of pure, predatory need.
He didn't give you a moment to adjust. His lips left yours, trailing a hot, open-mouthed path down your jaw to the sensitive skin of your neck. He nipped and sucked at the pulse point there, not hard enough to leave a mark, but just enough to make you arch against him, a breathy moan escaping your lips. His hands were everywhere, roaming over your sides, your stomach, skimming the underside of your breasts with a reverence that contradicted the frantic pace he was setting.
"Please," he breathed against your collarbone, the word ragged and strained. "Please, Y/N, take these off." He tugged at the hem of your shirt, his fingers clumsy with urgency. "I need to see you. I need... fuck, I need to be in you." The begging was a heady rush, a confirmation of the power you held over him in this moment.
A slow, triumphant smile spread across your face. "Since you asked so politely," you purred, your voice laced with amusement and arousal. You sat up slightly, just enough to cross your arms and grab the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head in one smooth motion and tossing it aside. His eyes widened, his gaze fixated on the lacy bra you wore.
Then you lifted your hips, hooking your thumbs into the waistband of your pants and underwear, shimmying them down your legs until you could kick them away.
Lucas threw his head back, a guttural sound of pure, unadulterated lust tearing from his throat as he took you in. The sight of you, bare and wanting beneath him, seemed to short-circuit his last remaining brain cells.
He fumbled with his own shirt, yanking it over his head and revealing the lean, sculpted chest you'd only dreamed about. He paused then, his hard length pressing insistently against your thigh, his dark eyes searching yours. There was a flicker of the boy from the Hellfire club in them, a moment of clarity amidst the haze of passion.
"Is this... is this okay?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
In response, you grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled his mouth back down to yours, kissing him with bruising intensity before breaking away just enough to turn your face into the pillow, muffling your next words.
"Just fuck me already." It was a command, not a request, and it was the only permission he needed.
He didn't need to be told twice.
With a shaky breath, he positioned himself at your entrance, the thick head of his cock pressing against your slick heat. He pushed forward slowly, carefully, and you felt every glorious inch as he stretched you open, a low groan rumbling in his chest as your walls clenched around him.
He bottomed out with a deep, satisfied sigh, his hips flush against yours, the feeling of being completely filled by him sending a shudder of pure pleasure through your entire body. For a moment, he just stayed there, his forehead pressed against yours, his body trembling with the effort of holding back.
Then he began to move. His initial thrusts were slow, deliberate, a gentle rocking motion that allowed you to adjust to his size. But his need was a wildfire, and it didn't take long for it to consume his control. His pace quickened, his hips snapping forward with a growing urgency, each thrust driving deeper and harder than the last. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with his breathless whimpers and your own soft cries of pleasure.
"God, Y/N, you feel... you feel so fucking good," he murmured, his lips brushing against your earlobe with every powerful thrust.
"So perfect... so tight for me." His words were a constant, breathless stream of praise, sweet nothings that only fueled the fire building in your core.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him even deeper, your nails digging into the sweat-slicked skin of his back, leaving red trails in their wake. He hissed at the sharp sting, but it only seemed to spur him on, his movements becoming more erratic, more desperate.
"Fuck, I'm so close," he panted, his rhythm faltering slightly as he fought for control. "I'm gonna cum... but I want you to cum first. Please, baby, let me feel you." He was pleading, his voice thick with desperation. "I'll pull out, I promise. Just... just let me make you feel good."
The thought of him pulling out, of losing that connection, was unbearable. You shook your head, your teeth sinking into your lower lip as you met his wild, desperate gaze. "Stay in me," you cried, your voice a husky whisper. "Don't pull out.."
A choked moan escaped his lips, his eyes widening in disbelief before they darkened with a primal, overwhelming desire. He nodded eagerly, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as he lost all semblance of restraint.
"Yeah? You want that? You want me to fill you up?" he growled, his hips slamming into you with renewed vigor.
The promise in your words was his undoing. He drove into you one last time, a deep, powerful thrust that hit that perfect spot deep inside you, and you shattered. A wave of intense pleasure washed over you as you came, your body convulsing around him, your cries muffled against his neck.
The feeling of your walls clamping down on him was all it took. With a loud, guttural cry of your name, he buried himself to the hilt and pulsed inside you, his hot release flooding you as he collapsed against your trembling body.
The frantic energy that had propelled them both seemed to evaporate all at once, leaving a heavy, sated silence in its place. Lucas's weight was a welcome anchor for a moment before, with a groan, he managed to roll off you, collapsing onto his back beside you.
The room was quiet now, save for the sound of your ragged breaths slowly evening out, mingling in the space between you. You both stared up at the ceiling, eyes wide and unseeing, the reality of what just happened settling in the cool air of his bedroom.
The sticky warmth between your thighs was a tangible reminder of the line you'd just crossed.
Slowly, almost hesitantly, you turned your head to look at him. He was already looking at you, his expression a mixture of awe, shock, and something softer you couldn't quite name.
The sight of his disheveled hair, his swollen lips, and the faint red lines your nails had left on his shoulders was enough to make a small, breathless giggle escape your lips.
He caught it, and a slow, shy smile spread across his face before he let out a small chuckle of his own. The shared laughter broke the remaining tension, a silent acknowledgment of the wild, unexpected intimacy you'd just shared.
"i've liked you for awhile," he admitted suddenly, his voice quiet and a little raw.
He propped himself up on one elbow, reaching up to scratch the back of his head in a gesture that was so endearingly nervous it made your chest tighten.
"Just didn't know how to do anything.. considering.." He trailed off, the unspoken context of his inexperience hanging in the air, a stark contrast to the confident, desperate way he'd just taken you.
You let out a soft, teasing scoff, shaking your head as a playful smirk tugged at your lips. "This was a preview, pretty boy," you said, your voice low and full of promise.
You let the words sink in, watching his eyes darken with renewed interest. "If you want me, break up with her."
The playful challenge in your tone was unmistakable. You weren't asking; you were setting the terms. You'd given him a taste of what he could have, a glimpse of the fire he'd only fantasized about. Now the ball was in his court. The smirk on Lucas's face faltered for a second, replaced by a flicker of panic and determination.
Lucas had a lot of planning to do.
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