Archive of Our Own ^beta

The world was spinning as you grabbed onto the door frame, fingers gripping the wood tight as if it could ground you, sober you.

Your eyes had fluttered closed against the unending sway of the ground beneath your feet, and you guessed the direction as you yelled a slurred goodbye alongside a babble of incomprehensible words back to your friend before you stumbled out onto the lawn, slipping a little in your glitzy, impractical heels.

Levi was there to catch you, of course. Grunting a little, lifting you up from the curb as if you weighed nothing before he tugged you under his arm and started a steady pace toward his car, thanking your friend with a gruff, polite nod.

The stranger waved a goodbye, the name of whom he didn’t know - didn’t care to know. From the look in their eyes as they stumbled back into the haze of flashing lights and pounding bass, they were so high he doubted that they would remember any of this tomorrow morning anyway. Probably for the best.

You peered up at him through hazy, low lidded eyes, lips tugged into a wide smile as he lent over you to do your seat buckle up. You could smell his cologne, clean and a little sweet. Could see the toned lines of his throat disappearing beneath his pristine shirt. The same neat white button up he’d been wearing earlier that day in his lecture hall, just as crisp now as if he’d just ironed it.

You knew it was the very same because you’d spent the entire hour and a half of his class doing nothing more than twirling your pen between your fingers, and admiring the way the white fabric contrasted against his dark features. Those sharp stormy eyes that kept flickering to you with an undeniable biting heat.

The shirt had turned little translucent in the afternoon sun, giving you a frankly sinful view of his form. The light caught obscenely on the toned curves of his arms, pulled tight over his broad shoulders, tapering down to his narrow waist when he turned to point at something on the board.

“Hey.” You giggled in greeting, blinking up at him, glossed lips caught between your teeth.

He raised an angled brow at you, nudged you a little as he clicked the seat belt in place over your belly, ran a finger along on the seam between the belt and your body to smooth it out. You sighed a little at the contact.

“Was that worth blowing off your assignments?” Came his grumbled reply.

You opened your mouth to bite back, but he didn’t give you a chance to answer. Instead leaning back to swing the passenger side door closed before he crossed behind the car and climbed behind the wheel beside you.

Pleasantly buzzed by alcohol and settled into the cool leather seat of his car - a classic old Mercedes kept in perfect condition, smooth leather lovingly moisturized and polished, every surface pristine and shining - you finally got an opportunity to really take in the sight of him.

You studied his profile as he turned the car over, deafened momentarily by the roar of the engine before it settled to a hum. He was a collection of smooth angled lines all the way from his nose, his cheekbones, down to his clean shaven jaw. His eyes were sharp as ever, despite being perpetually rimmed with shadow.

You wondered absentmindedly if he’d been sleeping when you’d called, late as it was. If you'd woken him with your giggling, your drunken flirtations slurred into the phone as you’d recited the address to him, strained to listen to his graveled voice crackle down the line in reply over the thumping of the bass.

Probably not. Staff and student alike knew that Professor Ackerman was a bonda fide night owl.

His toned arm was outstretched to grip the wheel, crisp button up sleeve rolled uncharacteristically to his elbow, a little casual. Your eyes followed the veins carving thin paths down from his knuckles.

“Remind me, how’s your latest essay going?”

Your smile dropped, replaced instead with a mild frown as you grumbled string of unhappy words, peppered with half-hearted excuses. When he didn’t react, you sighed, resigned to the fact you weren't going to be get away with sweet talking the stoic man, at least not after he'd come to your rescue at 2am on a school night.

“I’ll submit the paper to you Monday, scouts honor.”

To demonstrate, you crossed your heart in a mock salute, fixing his profile with a painfully sincere expression.

He hummed, obviously dubious of your integrity as he peeled out of the driveway, fingers gripped over the gear stick to shift as he pushed a little. Your eyes fluttered closed, feeling the force of the acceleration low in your gut, not willing to risk watching the landscape breeze past you with the way your head was already spinning.

When the speed settled, you leaned back into your seat, enjoyed the purr of the engine, the slight rumble beneath your spine. You peered over at him, watched the way stray streetlights and neon signs beamed over his angled cheekbones, set his smooth dark hair alight, glinted off the clean lines of the silver watch wrapped around his wrist.

Your mouth split into a smile, the pump of alcohol in your veins steeling you with a sudden liquid confidence.

“There was a reeeally cute guy there.” You teased in a sing song voice.

The soft leather squeaked beneath you as you squirmed to get comfortable, toeing your little heels off beneath the dashboard and bringing one bare foot up to press into the dark leather, knee bent to your chest.

“Yeah?” Came his smooth, even reply, but you caught the little responsive twitch of his dark brow.

“Yeah.” You replied, licked your lips.

“We talked, drank, danced.” You continued, voice light and easy as it left your lips.

You sighed, lifting your arms above your head in a slow stretch, fingers trailing along the soft fabric of the roof above. You let out a deep moan, a little more sensual than needed as you felt the tension in your spine release.

“He had wandering hands though, a real tease. Naughty boy.” You giggled, arched your back a little more, twisted to deepen the stretch.

Levi’s eyes didn’t leave the road, but you could tell by the way he tightened his jaw that he had caught the slip of bare skin in his peripheral, peeking out from where your little crop top was riding up.

Disappointed by his unwavering cool composure, you continued. A little desperate to see that statuesque control shatter.

“Got me reeaal hot under the collar, all that heavy petting - y’know?”

You sighed, let your bent knee part and rest limply on the polished panel of the door beside you, spread your other until your fevered skin hit the center console, until your skirt rode up just a little to expose more of your soft skin - an open invitation.

“Too bad you came to pick me up so early, sir.”

You tilted your head to him, well past the point of being subtle.

He tutted at you, shook his head a little in mock disappointment, but his hand still wandered over from its resting place curled over the gear shift to tease over your thigh. His lean palm was warm, running slow soothing lines up and down, fingers trailing up past the sinful hemline of your skirt.

“Such a needy brat, can’t even wait until you get home to spread your legs?” He teased, voice like honeyed whiskey.

“Just can’t help myself around you, sir.”

You shook your head, ran your tongue over your teeth and grinned up at him, blinking slow through low sultry lashes as you tugged your skirt up, exposed your panties - pink and lacy and much too revealing to be at all practical.

His sharp eyes flickered briefly from the road to you, dipped down to take in the sight of you, curled up in the passenger seat of his car - skirt lifted and thighs spread to show him your pretty pink panties. You watched his throat bob.

“Look at you, this all for me?”

He slid his hand up over the swirling threads of lace, traced the outline of you beneath with the pads of his fingers, touch feather soft.

“Uh-huh…” You sighed, eyes dropped to watch him tease you through the quickly dampening fabric.

“Gonna have to shift it for me, think you can manage that sweetheart?” He murmured, eyes splitting from you to focus back on the road, which was thankfully mostly empty at this late hour.

Releasing your skirt, you wrapped your fingers instead around the smooth gear shift, felt it slip comfortably into your palm.

Muscle memory took over - motions built from youthful days spent sitting in your fathers lap in the drivers seat of his truck, his big hands wrapped over yours as you pushed the gear shift, squealed and giggled as the engine kicked, and he revved it a little harder just to see you grin.

“Yes sir.” You breathed.

Levi hummed, pleased.

“Good. Take them off then.”

Without argument you released the gear stick, hooked your thumbs beneath either side of the pink lace and wiggled your hips, lifted your thighs up to slip the panties down over your heels and off.

Before you could desert them at your feet, Levi slipped his fingers over yours and took the skimpy slip of fabric from you.

You sucked in a breath as he laced them over the gear stick, then took your hand and brought it down over the knob, wrapped your fingers tight beneath his for a moment before releasing you.

His hand immediately found it’s home between your thighs once more, free to roam without the interruption of your panties, and he slipped a finger down between your folds, pressed inside just enough to feel your arousal coat the digit.

“Already so wet for me.” He mused, curled his fingers a little to gather your slick before he started drawing slow, lazy circles into you.

“Ah…” You sighed, brows knitted together as little sparks of pleasure lit within your belly with each steady roll.

Levi’s stormy eyes remained fixed on the road stretched out before him, fingers thrumming absentmindedly along the wheel. His face and voice were equally as cool and relaxed, as if he were doing nothing more than enjoying a late night cruise, as if he wasn’t about to have his fingers buried inside his favourite students sopping cunt.

“So tell me about this boy, did you let him kiss you?”

You shook your head wildly, fingers curled tight over the gear stick, knees spread wide and pushed into the solid frame of the car to make room for his forearm to slot between.

“Was just teasing.” You confessed, voice turned breathy and small. “Just wanted to make you jealous.”

“Shift to fifth.” Levi’s solid voice interrupted, hand still moving in a steady rub between your thighs, fingers parting you, sliding up and down achingly slow until you were twitching in response.

Acquiescing, you managed to break from the trance of watching his slender fingers toy with you long enough to tug the gear stick into place.

The engine revved its reply, rumble smoothed out after a second. Levi hummed in approval, slipped two fingers inside down to the knuckle and began a steady pump.

“So you just enjoy testing my patience, is that right?” He questioned, voice smooth as velvet as he worked his fingers into you, curled with each entry to massage that sweet little spot inside over and over.

“Oh god.” You whimpered, slipped down further in the embrace of smooth leather, pushing your hips up to meet his rhythm.

His fingers were plunged so deep that the smooth broad flat of his palm was grinding against you with each thrust. You could hear the thrum of your own pulse hot in your ears, each beat pumping lust and lingering dregs of alcohol deeper through your body.

Dizzy with it - with the burning heat of pleasure between your thighs, curling up from your belly like vicious tendrils, and his heady cologne filling your senses - you knew you weren’t going to last very long.

“Not submitting your assignments on time, drinking, smoking, staying out late dancing with boys you don’t know - what will I do with you, hm?” Levi tutted once more.

Your toes curled over the dark leather as you pushed your lower lip out into a pout, moaning in reply - mind empty of anything aside from the feeling of his fingers between your spread thighs.

You tilted your head up, turned to watch his profile, track the lights through your dazed vision as they beamed in from the window, lighting up his features in the dark. You nearly flinched when his head tilted, silver eyes tugged from the road to slice into you, pinning you in place beneath the sheer intensity of his gaze.

“I’m sorry daddy.” You whimpered. “Should punish me.”

He let out a low chuckle at that, and the sight of his lips pulled into a smirk, pearly white canines glinting out with each rolling streetlight made the tight coil in your stomach burn even hotter.

“Oh, I’m sure you’d just love that, huh?” He coaxed, thumb slipping up over your clit in tight circles, moving in tandem with his fingers, still maintaining their steady pump.

“I see the way you look at me in class, not listening to a single word.” He chided. “And those little skirts, practically begging me to bend you over my desk.”

Suddenly his previously slow, steady pace turned rough. His palm slapping into you brutally until your thighs were trembling, and you could hear the obscene slick sounds of yourself clenching around him, sure that you were dripping down onto the smooth dark leather beneath you.

“Ah-hah-! ‘m so close daddy, please!” You slurred, eyes winked closed, vacant, watching your thighs turn slippery with each curl of his wrist through a haze of lashes.

“Down to fourth.” Came his sharp command.

You shook your head weakly, fingers losing grip on the gearshift as your body turned to jelly, limp with the all consuming buzz of pleasure searing up from your core. Your limbs were numb down to your finger tips where they were gripping so hard onto the seat that your knuckles turned white.

Your eyes fluttered closed, hips bucking up to chase the friction - knowing if you set your eyes on him like this you’d lose your last thin thread of control in a heartbeat.

“Come on baby, down to fourth, or I’ll have to stop.” He warned, hand showing no sign of slowing.

You whined, gathered the last thread of resolve in your limp body to tug the stick into position before you crumpled back into the embrace of soft leather. Chin pressed to your chest, jaw slack, whining out high pitched breathy moans as you teetered on the precipice.

The engine purred, and Levi along with it.

“That’s it. Good girl.” He praised, and you shivered under his sudden warmth, mind turned soft and malleable beneath his palm.

His fingers slipped from you with a vulgar, wet sound, slipping up to instead slide furiously over your neglected clit. You choked out a strangled sound in response, squeezed your eyes shut.

“Now go on, cum for me.”

At his approval, your mind went entirely blank, body reacting of its own volition. The writhing, curling tendrils of pleasure melted into a burning, searing heat in your belly, temperature dialed up hotter and hotter until it was boiling unbearably.

And then it snapped, bubbling over in an all consuming wave that you were helpless to stop.

You cried out as you convulsed, twinkling stars swirling behind your eyes in the dark.

Your hand flew from where it was biting into the leather seat to grasp desperately at his forearm, and your hips jerked as you felt liquid begin to gush from between your thighs alongside the blinding waves of pleasure.

“Fuck.” You heard him curse through the haze, voice uncharacteristically softened with mild surprise, hand slowing.

Your ears felt clogged, as if you had been plunged deep into cool water.

When you finally came back to, you blinked dimly down between your filthy thighs, up and over the expanse of the dashboard before you, and you watched through wide, glossy eyes at the little droplets trailing down the dark leather.

Still trembling with residual throbs of pleasure, you swallowed hard when you realized what an utter mess you’d made.

Chest heaving, you tried to catch your breath, peering over to him, soft and sheepish.

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to.”

His fingers were curled leisurely around your slippery thigh, soothing the twitching muscles there.

“There’s still ten minutes until we get to your apartment.” He noted, head tilted toward you, eyes still locked on the stretch of road before him.

“I think that’s more than enough time for you to clean it up, don’t you agree?”

You bit your lip, nodded in response.

He hummed, and you watched his hand desert your thigh to replace yours on the gear stick, tug it back as he veered off the next freeway exit, rumbling out onto a dimmed side road.

You swallowed, eyes locked onto his fingers where they were leaving sticky smears of your slick over the smooth leather.

“Go on then, and use your tongue."