You Take Me So Well - Warren Lipka
pairing: warren lipka x fem!reader
cw: corruption kink, vaginal sex, dry humping, fingering, pot smoking
Taglist/ @v-love @evanpetersfav @demxnicprxncess @kitwalkersgfff @quicksilversg1rl @iruzias @alexxavicry @soaringcloud @laynna-mcknight @humdrumexistence @simp4petermaximoff @evan4ever @paujmr @jangsuzchap @meganxfox @witchyykitten
“What’s that smell?” you scrunch up your nose in disgust and turn to the college boy you’d been spending most of your time with the last few weeks, who was seated on the sofa in his parent’s basement, something lit between his lips.
“It’s pot idiot. Here, come sit,” your friend Warren pats the spot next to him on the sofa, and takes a draw of whatever was in his mouth, shortly followed by a large cloud of grey smoke. It smelt horrendous, but you noticed the way Warren’s body relaxed after he’d taken his first puff.
It spiked your curiosity, everything about Warren did.
You’d never thought you’d be spending so much time with a delinquent in his basement after he’d messaged you on Facebook, complimenting you on how pretty your hair looked and asking you if you wanted to grab a coffee. It was embarrassing enough that your mother had to drop you everywhere you went, and that you always had to lie and say you were spending time with your best friend Beth, but to not even know that Warren was smoking pot? How much more naïve could you get.
Warren knew this, he knew you didn’t have much exposure to anything at all. All you’d talk about is your strict parents; your Christian upbringing, how slutty your mother thought you were when you wore a skirt above the knee and your hair out to the cinema, how angry your father would get if you weren’t home before 9.
Well, it was half passed 7 now, and to your parents’ knowledge you were studying at Beth’s for an upcoming assessment in math.
You crossed your hands in your lap, suddenly feeling cold in the short denim shorts you were wearing. Warren has convinced you over the last few weeks that “life was too short” and “you can’t spend your whole life trying to make everyone else happy”. He was right, and it only made you feel more attracted to him.
You’d kissed, sure, and it was the first kiss you’d ever shared with anyone. It was magical, and it still replayed in your head over and over every time you glanced into his dark eyes and noticed the way a few curls would fall into them from his shaggy head of hair. He was mesmerising to you, your polar opposite, and every minute he wasn’t with you felt like agony.
You were surprised to see Warren had passed the joint your way, holding it delicately in-between his fingertips as the end continued to burn red.
“How long will it last? If I take one puff?” you were always worried that you’d get caught, that your parents would find where you were, have a mini stroke and then never let you out of their sight again. It would only make it worse if you were high.
“I dunno,” Warren chuckled, his face suddenly blushed and the whites of his eyes tinged red, “maybe a couple hours? Depends how much you have, I guess.”
Your bottom lip wedged between your teeth as you weighed the pros and cons in your head, your heart racing just at the mere thought of the wrath of your parents. The devil’s lettuce, they’d convinced you it was, nothing but a gateway to hell.
“What did I tell you, my little good Christian girl, live a little,” Warren wrapped an arm around your shoulders, and pushed the joint closer to your face. He knew you wanted to do it, and every second that passed steered you closer in that direction.
“What did I say we have to say before we do something?”
You turned to face Warren; his face so close to yours you could feel his breath fanning your face. It made your stomach tie in knots.
“Fuck it,” you whispered, your lips curling into a smile as you took the joint from his hand. Warren laughed, throwing his head back and clapping his hands in amusement.
“That’s my girl,” he said, making your face flush, “now just take it slow, one little inhale, straight in, okay?”
You took a deep breath, and before you could think about it anymore, the roach of the joint was tucked between your lips, and you’d taken the tiniest puff you thought you could muster. The smoke burned your throat, all the way down to your lungs. Pulling the joint from your lips, you let out a string of coughs, your eyes squeezing shut as they uncontrollably were being expelled from your throat.
Warren ran a hand up and down your back, chuckling softly to himself at your inexperience. He could feel your bra strap under his fingers, and it sent a shiver up his spine.
He was just as captivated by your innocence as you were by his lack of. It shocked him now sheltered your parents had kept you, for so long, away from all the good things in this world.
“Warren- can you hold it?” you reach for the glass of water on the table, and bring it up to your lips, gulping down the cool liquid and letting it soothe your sore throat.
Your head was already getting cloudy, and it just showed how low your tolerance was.
Warren polished off the joint after that, his eyes fixed on you as you slouched back on the sofa, your eyes trained on the concrete ceiling and all its intricate little cracks.
“Warren?” you asked finally, after what felt like hours. The last thing you’d notice right now was your phone alarm buzzing in your bag letting you know it was time to start thinking of going home.
You’d gotten into a position where you were now laying with your back to the sofa, your legs propped up on Warren’s thighs. His hands were placed high on your thighs, his fingertips drawing small shapes across your skin. Every time he’d trace your thigh, little jolts of electricity would shoot through your core, and it made you feel all fuzzy.
You shifted on the sofa, feeling the brush of your jeans shorts as they rode up between your legs, making blissful contact with your clit. You felt this warm wetness, like all the vile thoughts you were suddenly having of Warren formed a little patch of arousal in your panties. Why were you so much more turned on than usual right now? And why did it feel so good?
Warren noticed you struggling to speak, and pulled you by the arms, sitting you up on the sofa. He cocked his head to the side as he smiled slyly at you, noticing the way your breathing had suddenly laboured. He knew pot made you extra horny, and the way you were looking at him right now was the biggest indicator of all.
“I feel-” you couldn’t believe the words that were about to come out of your mouth, “can you make me feel good?”
Warren was taken back by your sudden request knowing you had never been so vocal about that before. You usually felt so guilty engaging in those types of activities, but with Warren here right now, nothing else mattered. Not even your phone as it insistently rung on the floor next to you.
“Are you sure?” Warren questioned you, looking between your doe eyes and your perfectly shaped lips.
“Yes- please,” you knew you probably sounded pathetic right now, but the urge to feel him was becoming increasingly unbearable.
Without hearing a response, you took your chances, and dived in towards him, closing the gap between your lips. Warren melted into the kiss almost immediately, his hands gripping your hips and moving you onto of him. You whimpered, straddling his thighs, feeling the obvious hard-on in the front of his jeans rub against you. It felt so much better than anything else you’d ever experienced.
Even with a dry mouth, Warren’s tongue darted into your mouth, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks and tilt your head to the side. You let him do whatever he wanted, explore your mouth with the eagerness and need that you shared.
His hips buckled up slightly, causing you to whimper against his parted lips, your core getting more and more heated by the second. You needed more, you needed to feel him so badly it hurt.
You disconnected your lips and began tugging Warren’s shirt above his head. He happily obliged, pulling it off and throwing it to the side, before he was tugging off yours too. Between heated kisses, you’d managed to get it off, now exposed to him in only your bra and shorts.
You both took a moment to stare at each other, your hands running down the planes of his toned chest and stomach, until you reached the button of his jeans. Warren groaned softly, his jeans painfully confining the erection he so badly wanted to take out right now.
“May I?” you asked politely, your head spinning, not being able to think of anything else but the man under you who’s heart was racing just as much as yours.
“Mhm,” was all Warren could muster, before his jeans were unfastened and pulled down his legs, too discarded on the floor with his t shirt.
You stood off his lap for a moment, so adamant to get out of your shorts that you kicked them off in almost lightning speed.
Warren stifled a laugh as you sat back down on your lap, his fingers tracing the frill at the hems of your white panties.
“Shut up,” you uttered, tilting your head back as Warren’s lips assaulted the soft skin of your neck, leaving sloppy kisses in his wake, “mom won’t let me buy anything else.”
Now there was only the thin fabric of Warren’s plaid boxers and your panties in the way of feeling the skin on skin contact you craved so desperately.
“They’re cute,” Warren chuckled, coming up from your neck to connect your lips in another fiery kiss.
His hands cupped your backside, his fingertips sinking into the flesh of your ass cheeks. You rubbed against him, letting out soft moans at the feeling of his stiffness against you. His hands guided you to work at a faster pace, moving in rhythm back and forth across his cock through your underwear. Your urge to rub against something, your achy, throbbing feeling for pressure, was finally being fulfilled, and it felt otherworldly.
“How’s that feel baby?” Warren whispered in your ear, followed by a soft groan as he felt how wet you were through his boxers.
The knot in your stomach had gotten so tight, and your body felt so hot, it was almost nerve-wracking to experience. You weren’t sure what was happening, but you were letting it happen.
“So good, Warren,” you moaned, dragging out every syllable as you continued to work your hips against his.
“Want more,” you whimpered, beginning to feel yourself clench around nothing, tingly and desiring to be filled.
“Like what?” Warren teased, biting down on his bottom lip as you got off his lap once more to take off your panties. The blush rose to your cheeks as Warren drunk in your appearance, wanting nothing more than to stretch you out and tear you apart.
“Can you go inside?” you asked nervously, never having been so exposed to someone else before.
“Come here,” he urged gently, patting his lap, pulling his boxers down to his knees as you settled back on his lap.
“You sure you’re ready?” he asked again, his hand coming down between your legs. You waited anxiously for his fingers to touch you, and when they did move between your soaked folds, he easily slipped a finger inside you.
Your back arched as he pushed it in knuckle-deep, gently thrusting it inside you. It felt so good to be stretched out like that, by his big fingers as they worked inside you at a steady pace.
His finger curled, making contact with your spongey sweet spot, a moan leaving your lips from how good it felt.
“Holy shit,” Warren groaned into your hair as your head rested lazily against his shoulder, breathing in his comforting scent and indulging in the way he touched you.
“Want something bigger?” he asked, and all you could do was nod in response against his shoulder.
He lined himself up at your entrance, and with a single thrust of his hips, his swollen tip was between your folds and urging to go inside. The stretch was too much to begin with, a lot of whining left your lips as he slowly lowered you down onto him. But when you’d sat fully on his cock, and had gotten used to his size, he began to piston his hips upwards into you.
“Oh, my goddd,” you almost screamed, letting out breathy moans to punctuate every slow thrust.
“You’re so fucking tight,” Warren spoke between grit teeth, trying his hardest not to cum right there and then from how good it felt to be situated between your gummy, pulsing walls.
“Just like that,” you encouraged, beginning to rise and fall on his cock all on your own, getting used to the momentum he was building.
“You take my cock so well,” Warren praised, “You’re doing so good baby.”
He let you ride his dick, unclasping your bra to let out your breasts, taking a nipple in his mouth almost instantly. Your head lolled back, and the tight knot in your stomach was so close to untying, the curvature of his cock hitting all the right places and filling you perfectly.
The dull pulse in your core switched to a pleasurable ache, and soon you were unable to contain it anymore.
“Warren- I feel like I’m gonna pee,” you stopped your hips, suddenly scared and embarrassed by this sudden revelation.
“it’s not-” Warren shook his head with an amused grin on his face, “you’re gonna cum sweetheart, sit still.”
You hesitantly obeyed, gasping when you felt Warren’s wet fingers make contact with your swollen clit. He rolled it between his fingers, circling around the bud as the foreign feeling returned, and you’d let yourself go this time.
You came on his cock, his fingers gripping his shoulders so tightly you were sure to leave the marks of your fingernails in their wake. You felt Warren twitch inside you as you pulsed around him, whimpering and moaning as the feeling washed over you in waves. Holy fuck, you thought, I’m gonna be addicted to this feeling.
Warren thrust into you as you rode out your orgasm, finishing inside you with a few ravaging pumps. You collapsed onto of him, hearing his heavy breathing in your ear as you sat still, trying to process what the fuck just happened.
Warren moved your hair over your other shoulder, littering kisses up the curve of the side of your neck, having regained his breathing and not feeling so high anymore.
“How was that?” Warren asked in a whisper, although he knew the answer from how fucked out and tired you were.
“So good,” you mumbled your reply, not feeling as high anymore either.
Warren slipped out of you and laid your naked body down on the couch beside him, pulling you into his chest. You closed your eyes, savouring the feeling of his warm body so close to yours.
“Not such a good little Christian girl anymore, are you?” he teased, his fingers playing with your hair.
“Fuck it,” you responded, still ignorant of the tons of voicemails your parents had left you over the last hour.
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