Title: Inventive
Author: florahart
Characters: Percy/Luna
Rating: NC17
Warnings: object penetration; uh, misleadingness? Also, PWP, and Luna is possibly kind of a sluttariffic (in the very best possible sense...) nymphomaniac.
Themes/kinks chosen: penetration toys
Word Count: 1650
Summary: Luna really, really likes to make Percy come. Percy isn't complaining.
Author's notes: I was going somewhere completely different with this. And then, apparently, I wasn't.

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Inventive

She was going to be the death of him.

Percy looked up as Luna moved faster, her breath hitching in the sharp little sounds she made as she neared orgasm, and wondered for at least the hundredth time what the hell was going on. The first time she'd shown up, he hadn't expected anything like this. How could he have known?

Well, no, that wasn't precisely true; there had been something of a clue in the fact that she'd arrived on her broom outside his window naked as the day she was born, scraggly blonde hair loose in the breeze behind her. He'd looked around, startled, and dragged her in through the window before someone--his parents; after all, he lived at home now, and they'd be appalled!--but he'd had no idea she was going to explain, calmly and coolly, why he should lie on his back and let her ride him.

He'd certainly had no idea he was going to agree!

He couldn't remember what the hell the reason had been; the girl was bloody insatiable, and it seemed as though they hadn't stopped fucking in weeks, though of course, he knew, they had. He got up every morning and went to work, and she was never in his bed when he rose, nor when he came up to go to bed. But they fucked often, so often it seemed like they'd been doing it forever. Fucking and talking and talking whilst fucking, Percy nervously checking the Muffling charms time and again only to find them solid, to find her grinning, knowing, at his nerves. He couldn't help the nerves; it was only a year since he'd stopped disappointing his parents, and he didn't want to disappoint them again.

He also didn't want to lose this: her slick cunt, or occasionally something else, wrapped around his cock and making him sweat and leaving him heavy-legged and tired and pleasantly spent. So he fucked her, again and again, and he talked to her when she asked him things and listened when she talked.

They had discussed nothing of consequence, it seemed, though the apparently random nature and order of topics had left him slightly fuzzy on the details.

It had occurred to him, somewhere in the haze of sleep-deprived nights between eager wet fucks that left him stupid and needy and completely befuddled that this was happening to him--because to now, his sexual encounters had been short-term, hurried, and often not entirely satisfying--that Luna, perhaps with some direction in the area of boundaries and sexual ethics, would make a rather outstanding interrogator. He knew he hadn't told her any state secrets, but secrets of his own? He had no idea what all she'd learned, but he was nearly sure he'd told her a great deal.

He couldn’t, as he watched the silver gleam of her pale flyaway hair in the moonlight, her throat long and chin high as she rocked slick and hot on him, quite bring himself to care. It wasn't as though she was out to hurt him.

She clenched around him and gasped, her chin falling forward as the fluttering pulsing muscles pulled him closer to the edge himself, and he tightened his fingers on her slim hips, grunting and arching, grinding her down faster and harder, whimpering as her hitching little breaths began again, until he spilled up inside her with a long groan.

He glanced, helplessly, at the door, and Luna laughed, tightening around him with every chuckle, and he felt his face heat. The charms were fine. He was being silly. Again.

She rose up off him and pushed him over on his side, and then, with a feather-light kiss on the cheek, oddly innocent, she whispered.

It wasn't until she was out the window, open robe barely wrapped around her shoulders, that he frowned and thought about what she'd said.

That it was Saturday, and he ought to sleep in, and it was only an hour to dawn.

And that she'd be here when he woke.

She'd never been here when he woke before, and he smiled and drifted off, cock dripping slow slick drops of fluid on his thigh.

"Percy?"

He woke slowly to the bright light of morning out the window and the pale smooth naked skin of Luna next to him on top of his faded quilt. He blinked and felt behind him on the nightstand for his glasses. "You came back."

She nodded. "I brought a surprise." She held up an oblong …lump of clay.

Percy frowned. "Er."

"Do you know what this is?" She was totally unbothered by the frown, beaming at him. "It's really quite inventive."

Percy licked his lips, aware even as he did it that the word inventive coming from her really ought not to be so appealing. "All right."

"It's a Wheeze," she said. "From the new line. I bought it last week. Do you know what it does?"

He shook his head.

"There's a charm," she said. She rolled the clay between her hands, thinning and lengthening it.

"Oh?" His cock stirred, and he told it firmly that it was well-exercised and to pay attention.

Then she brought up her knees and slid it into herself smoothly, and his cock forgot all instructions and jerked against his hip. He wasn't listening carefully to the charm, but his eyes were riveted between her legs, and he watched the material shift, reshaping and brightening to a pink-brown hue. "And then it turns into the last cock the user fucked." She looked up, smiling.

Percy felt his heartbeat speed and realized he was all but drooling as he looked into her eyes. The clay--the toy, the cock, the thing--was moving in and out of her, and he could hear the slick wet squelch of it fucking her. Of his cock, fucking her even when he wasn't. He wondered whether it was a compliment or an insult that she needed even more of his cock, but he decided he didn't care.

And then she said, "I thought you might like to feel it inside you."

Percy gasped and dropped his hand to his rapidly hardening prick, pressing hard against it because the surge of lust he'd just felt--shit, she really did know all his secrets--was going to take him back to the edge far too quickly.

He licked his lips again, and nodded.

"Good. I'm getting it wet for you," she said. "Turn over. On your hands and knees, Percy."

He scrambled to comply, astonished, as ever, by how much he needed to do what she said, whether she was telling him to fuck her mouth or hold completely still while she rode him, or something else entirely, as now.

She waved her wand and spoke the lubrication charms, then paused, pursing her lips, tapping one index finger against them even as the other lazily played with her clit. "Should I use the harness, or just push it into you with my hands, do you think?"

Percy shook his head. "Either."

She laughed. "It isn't as though we can't try both; it's reusable, after all." She rolled up to her knees behind him and muttered another charm, and then he could feel her knees between his calves, and his cock was nudging at him from behind.

It had been some time since he'd experimented with anything like this, but he didn't hesitate, pressing back and whining as the warm slick toy breached him. It crossed his mind that's she'd clearly done this before; she pushed into him steadily and set a rhythm immediately, and he bit his lip and followed along.

"I thought you'd like this," she said. "I thought about just letting it fuck you while you fucked me, but I like the notion of you shooting your come on your quilt, don't you? So messy and uncontrolled."

Percy gripped the quilt tighter and rocked back harder. "But I want. I like to… in your… Like a threesome," he gasped.

"Ooh, that does sound like fun," she said. "Okay. I'll make you come on your sheets later." She pulled back slightly and unfastened something, then tapped the cock so it went back to fucking him while she slid lithely under him, wrapping her ankles around his back and lifting to meet him, sticky and slick around him. "Like that?"

"It's. Fuck." Percy's glasses slid to the tip of his nose and sweat dripped from his brow. "Yes. My own cock fucking me, and then…" He groaned and changed the angle, slamming into her again. She laughed. "What?"

"It's not your cock, silly; it's your brother Charlie's. Why do you think it took me two hours to go fetch it?"

Percy gaped, though his body didn't stop. "But you said…" He realized mid-thrust what she meant, and shuddered. "Luna!"

"I never said it was yours!"

He felt the cock--Charlie's cock, sliding into him, Charlie with the solid muscles and rough hands, Charlie whose come he was fucking into now, and came, shaking, dripping, imagining what it would be like to play out this threesome for real with Charlie and his gruff smoky words and hard fingers fucking him into the mattress, into her cunt.

He thought about it as he lay there, panting, crushing her to his bed, clay-stuff reverting to a simple ovoid and sliding free, and wondered how the hell he was going to stop thinking about this. And how many times she'd come here fresh from Charlie before.

She squirmed under him, and he lifted up until she pushed him down, sliding her fingers into his hair and wrapping her thighs around his shoulders. "It worked quite well when George demonstrated it for me, too," she said, tone light and cheerful. "That was Tuesday, when I got here so very late."

He groaned again and buried his nose in her soaked sticky folds and concluded there was no need to think. Possibly ever again.