multiple-fandomimagines

[multiple-fandomimagines]

Honey, I’m home

summary: hugh accidentally uses the honey packs you brought home in his tea

cw: daddy kink, oral f!receiving, finger sucking, squirting, honey packs (do they even work fr?), accidental drug use(?), overstimulation, age gap, reader is mid-twenties because i said so, he talks you though it, aftercare, domestic vibes, i think that’s it

this was a collab piece with @nymphomatique because i was stuck <3

It was a silly spur of the moment purchase. You had stopped to get gas on the way home and wanted something to drink too… but the honey packs sitting atop the protected shelf behind the checkout clerk had caught your eye. You’d heard people talk about them online and how they could make a man last longer in bed, not that your man— Hugh, had ever needed any assistance in that department, but what’s the harm in trying something new? So you had asked for a six count box, only a few, stuffing it into the plastic bag from the cashier along with your water and snacks.

You made it home before Hugh but you were so exhausted that your gas station goods and the idea of unpacking them were unfeasible to you at the moment, so you just set the plastic bag of assorted items on the kitchen counter as you passed on the way to the bedroom, ready to decompress and get into bed.

The next morning, you awoke to an empty bed. Hugh had a habit of waking up before you, for a workout most days if not to surprise you with breakfast, and today seemed to be no different. You had assumed Hugh to take up the former option, considering how quiet it was in your shared penthouse. Groggily, you peeled the plush sheets back from your master bedroom, and padded your way to the connecting ensuite bathroom to get ready for work. The used honey packs on the kitchen table went unnoticed by you as you exited the home.

The day trudged on painfully uneventful much to your dismay, and the late Friday afternoon traffic just only served to add to your boredom.

“I’m home,” you called out when you stepped through the front door, shutting it behind you and shedding your jacket to hang it on the nearby rack. “Sorry I’m late. Traffic was a m—” you were cut off by Hugh’s lips on your own and his hands pulling you close gripping your waist tightly. The force of the kiss pushed you both back into the door. He kissed you so feverishly, hardly allowing you to catch your own breath. His lips finally detached from yours only to dive straight into the junction between your shoulder and neck biting and sucking the sensitive skin there. Hugh grabbed your thighs lifting them slightly, a silent demand to wrap them around his waist which you did instantly.

“Hugh,” you whined. “I just got back from work, let me shower first,” you protested, laughing a bit at his needy exposition. What had gotten into him? He didn’t say a word to you, letting his heated gaze speak for itself. He carried you from the entryway, lips never leaving your body as he walked you into the kitchen to set you on the table. “Can’t wait,” he said breathlessly. “Need you so fucking bad, sweetheart.”

Hugh’s insatiable behavior and the opened honey packets on the counter beside his mug of tea have you putting two and two together finally. You push back against Hugh trying to get him to look at you and stop marking your neck. You cup his face in your hands, thumbs brushing over his graying beard. “Baby did you use that in your tea,” you ask with a hint of a smile on your face as you try to hold back a laugh. “That’s what you’re focused on right now?” he quirks, squeezing your hips tenderly. ”Yes, silly, those are like liquid viagra!” you giggle, watching him nuzzle his face in the warmth of your palms.

“I wanted to surprise you with them and take them together, but it seems like you beat me to it,” you hum, your hands trailing down from his face down to his chest, clad in a black polo that had your mouth watering. He eyes you quietly and you can feel the heat in his look, beyond the swirling mirth in his eyes. “Naughty, naughty girl. Calling me an old man who can’t keep up?” Hugh tuts, pulling your hips to bring you flush to him, legs wrapping around his back halfheartedly. You roll your eyes at his statement. “You know that’s not what I—” you’re cut off, your sentence trailing into a soft oh! as you’re suddenly picked up again off the counter, Hugh bringing you to your bedroom. “You want a surprise? You got it,” he hums, kissing you deep and hard as he carries you with ease.

Your back meets plush sheets, and from the night becomes a blur, your memory blacking in and out from the intensity of it. You’re stripped bare, left only in your lacy panties. Slotted beneath him, it’s here you’re his and his only. Hugh’s lips wrapped gingerly around your nipple, tweaking the other as he grinds his groin into yours, reducing you to a body of simmering heat and arousal. He toys with you like this until you break, and it has you begging. “P-please, touch- need you to touch me there,” you whine, his beard hair rubbing against your nipple making it hard for you to be coherent. “That’s not how you ask now, is it sweet girl?” he teases, sucking and pinching your chest, grinding into you so deep that you’re sure you’ve soaked his slacks through your panties. “Please, daddy?” you moan, embarrassed it took barely any teasing for you to reach this point. Still, ever the one to oblige in you, Hugh moves from your breasts, now tender with nipples beyond sensitive, trailing hot open mouthed kisses down to your panties.

He places a kiss atop your clothed mound and you squirm a little, ready for some due respite. “Impatient little girl,” he coos, no threat in his tone. His nose finds its way against your panty covered pussy, inhaling you once before licking and sucking your arousal through the fabric. “D-daddy!” you squeal, surprised at this new display of lust, one that’s new to you. I’ve never seen him this worked up. He sucks and licks you through the thin fabric, and it has you bucking your hips up to reach deeper against his face at the sheer lewdness of it. “My naughty girl,” he says, kissing your thigh. “That got you all worked up? And I’m not even touching you?” he laughs softly, fingered hooking into the gusset of your underwear and pulling it to the side. “So wet and ready for me, hm?” he asks, and you nod fervently, anticipating his lips on you where you really want them.

When they finally plant themselves against your clit, it’s like a dam opens and tension leaves your body, flooding with a warm throb in place. He sucks you in the most skilled way, his tongue and nose rubbing and sucking against you in all the ways you like. His tongue licks you up along your slit once and then again before he plunges the appendage into you, making you keen with a breathy moan. Your hands fist his greying locks as he tongue fucks you, his nose and rough beard hair grinding against your clit overwhelmingly good. He licks and sucks until you’re nothing but a babbling mess under his mercy, trapped against his mouth by his thick arms. The pleasure begins to overwhelm you in a way that borders pain and before you can tell him, you’re cumming against his face, trembling softly as he licks you through your orgasm.

Your mind goes fuzzy for a moment, and you barely notice Hugh’s lips leave you, only noticing when he comes back up to kiss you, seemingly undressing himself in the time it took you to come down from your orgasm. “Did so good for me, baby. My good girl, you are,” he coos into your ear softly, sucking at the skin on the juncture of your neck and rubbing the thick head of his dick against your inner thigh and the feeling on his precum smearing against you has you whimpering, grabbing into him with everything you have. “Need it inside now, daddy. Please? Need you now,” you moan, chest heaving.

At your words, Hugh lines his tip up against your wetness, and pushes in slowly. Your breath hitches at the stretch and his head is thrown back with a deep groan. “So wet and warm, fuck baby,” he grits out. You do nothing but whimper at the stretch, gripping his biceps until he reaches the hilt. When he’s fully sheathed inside you, it’s an overwhelming feeling, one you don’t think you’ll fully ever get used to, no matter how many times you find yourself in a moment like this with Hugh. “Feel so full…” you spill out, mind feeling hazy. After a beat, Hugh begins to pull back, then push back forth into your dripping pussy until he finds himself at a steady but bruising pace. With every stroke, it feels like the wind is knocked out of you, the thickness and curve of Hugh’s cock rendering you speechless. In a silent plea— for what, you aren’t sure— you lock your ankles around the juncture of Hugh’s back as he fucks you, looking up at him with half lidded eyes and your lip caught between your teeth. Harder. Faster. Make it hurt. Fuck me deeper. I love you, I love you, I love you.

“Fuck, baby. Feeling good cause’a your daddy, yeah? Feel me deep in there?” he asks, pushing on the midsection of your stomach for emphasis and you arch into him and moan deeply. “S’good, please don’t stop daddy. Love it so much,” you heave out, your pussy aching with satisfaction. He fucks into you hard and rough, lips whispering dirty words and leaving wet kisses anywhere he can reach and you take it like the good girl he says you are. Thick fingers poke at your lips for only a fraction of a second before they’re being welcomed into your mouth and sucked on fervently. “Nasty fucking girl,” Hugh groans, and your lips perk up in the corners as you suck on his thick index and middle fingers, bobbing your head up and down on them in blowjob fashion, eliciting a deep groan from Hugh. His fingers swiftly leave your mouth and find their way to your clit, rubbing at the bundle of nerves fervently. The stimulation has your second orgasm peaking around the corner, and you can’t help but sputter and wiggle under Hugh, the pleasure bordering a welcome pain. “Oh my god, I’m gonna-” you manage to speak out, but you’re interrupted by Hugh, increasing the speed of his thrusts and fingers as he chases behind your upcoming crux. “Just let it happen baby, give it to daddy.”

A white hot flash of please takes you and your limb go numb, feeling everything and nothing at once as your head tips back and mouth falls open in a silent moan. The pleasure is overwhelming and you’re squirting beneath hugh from it, dampening the sheets beneath you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you hear, and then you feel it, something warm begins to flood your insides and its effect on you is something of a muscle relaxant, making you go limp under him, feeling sated. Hugh doesn’t pull out of you, taking the moment to catch his breath along with you. “You okay, sweetheart?” he asks, lips attacking your face with pepperings of kisses. “Made a bit of a mess didn’t you?” he teases. You giggle and nod, hitting him playfully on the arm. “Mmm, feel really good,” you sigh, looking visibly relaxed. Hugh sits up and pulls your legs up with him, throwing them over his shoulders and your eyes widen in confusion. “Good,” he says, kissing your ankle, “Cause I’m not even close to finished with you yet.”

And he meant it. Hugh was still painfully hard as he thrust back into you slowly in this new position. You grip the sheets in one hand and hold on to the headboard with the other when Hugh picks up the pace slamming into you over and over and over again in a way that has your breath knocked out of you every single time. The room is filled with the sound of skin on skin and breathless moans from the two of you. He pushes your legs back suddenly until your feet are nearly touching the headboard. Practically folded in half Hugh fucks you, relentlessly chasing his high in a borderline animalistic fashion. “That’s it baby, just take it” he says in between breaths. This angle has him hitting you impossibly deep, his tip nudging your cervix with each push. You’re whining beneath him, partly from the stretch of this position, partly from the bordering overstimulation when he releases one of your legs and trails his hand down your body groping your breast along the way. He leans in closer, placing open mouth kisses along your neck, nipping and sucking the skin there in a way that’s sure to leave a mark. His deft fingers travel further down until they’re working over your sensitive bundle of nerves once more. You throw your head back in a loud moan nearly cumminf from the simple touch alone. “C’mon. You can give me one more,” Hugh says huskily. It’s not a suggestion, but a command from him. Hugh’s thrusts speed up again as his peak approaches and you’re just on the edge of yours. His fingers pick up their pace, feeling that tell-tale throbbing beneath them when that flash of overwhelming pleasure overtakes you once more. You clench around Hugh involuntarily and the feeling sends him over the edge next, spilling into you with a shout.

Finally, you come down from your third explosive orgasm of the evening. Both Hugh and you are spent, panting and sweating messes in bed. Hugh is practically collapsed on top of you but he musters up his strength to prop himself up by the arms. He plants a gentle kiss to your forehead, your nose, and then your lips. “Did so good for me, baby,” he praises. His hand comes up to push a sweaty lock of hair out of your face. “Took me so well,” he says with a fond smile. You’re still too blissed out to fully respond yet and just opt to smile and nod. Hugh chuckles at the response and finally pulls himself free of you. “Gonna run us a bath.” Hugh pads off to the ensuite giving you a view of ass on the way out. You let out a low whistle at the view and hear him laugh. You listen to the sound of the faucet running for a while when Hugh returns for you. You still don’t want to move though and lift your arms lazily telling Hugh to carry you. He rolls his eyes but does so anyway, knowing what he put you through tonight. He carries you bridal style into the en-suite and eases you gently into the tub. The water is perfectly warm just as you like it and filled with lavender scented bubbles from the soap he used. Hugh climbs in after making the water rise even higher, nearly threatening to crest. He’s settled behind you with you leaning back against his chest. A comfortable silence fills the room with just the sounds of water sloshing and loofas on skin as Hugh bathes the two of you. “I love you…so much” he whispers in your ear kissing the side of your temple. You turn your head to give him a chaste kiss on the lips before resending “I love you, too.”

As the water starts to cool and your skin begins to prune, you both note it’s time to let the water drain. Hugh steps out first and wraps a towel around his waist. He takes another and wraps it around you next, taking your hand to help you step out of the bath. Once dried off and changed into your usual oversized t-shirt (aka one of Hugh’s global citizen shirts) and a pair of panties you slip under the sheets, Hugh following short in just a pair of boxers. He pulls you close, your head tucked against Hugh’s chest and his arm wrapped protectively around you while his never ending legs slotted between yours. Exhaustion pulls the two of you under embarrassingly quickly.

[multiple-fandomimagines]

Line to cross

Summary: When DBF!oldman!Logan catches you in a compromising position.. You should probably tell him to stop, should hold the fabric tigher in your fingers, be less calm, put up more of a fight.. He's your dads friend, a taboo line you really shouldnt want to cross..

Warnings?: 18+themes, basically PWP, smut, female masturbation, caught masturbating, mentions of dildos, swearing, nipple play, f!reciving oral, slightly forced orgasm? Tiny bit of overstim? Lotta Praise, nicknames (princess and babydoll mostly) , just oldman!Logan's mouth being a warning of its own really..

Gotta admit i wrote this with nothing more than horny brain. Old man logan just.. Hits the spot yk.. Pun not fully intented..

Masterlist words: just under 2.5k

"Now.. What do we have here?" Logan rumbles as he stands heavy against your doorway, arms crossed with a smirk tugging at his lips.

You shriek and scramble, like ice water has been pushed through your veins, rushing to cover yourself from his gaze. Practically naked and beyond mortified as you stutter biwildered whilst trying to tug your top back over your breasts. “w-what the fuck are you doing?! How long have you been stood there?”

“..what am I doing? I think I should be the one asking you that, princess.”

He ignores the second part of your question and you feel yourself try to shrink to no avail, so you repete; voice breathlessly unsteady and not quite sure if you truly want the answer. “How fucking long Logan..”

there’s bite to your tone but not in the way you’d like, it comes out less aggressive and more meek; unsure and utterly mortified

“long enough” Logan simply shrugs, notchulantly stepping forward into the expanse of your room, clicking the door shut behind him. “wasn’t exactly planning on dropping in, figured you were out.. but then I heard you from downstairs, called my name sounded desperate.. so I assumed something was wrong..” he trails off with a motion of his hands.

Shame swirls In your gut that you hadn’t only been thinking of him, but had fucking moaned out his name..and done so loud enough that (even without his hightend senses) he’d heard you.

“looks like i was the one wrong. Hadn't expected to come up here and see daddies little angel fuckin herself stupid on some plastic cock.”

“W-wasn’t, Logan i-“ it’s a futile defense, pointless really considering what you think he’s seen of you.

“You weren’t what hm? Weren't whimpering my name? Weren't splitting that pretty pussy open to the though of me, trying to make yourself feel good?" Logans hand laces with yours, as he bares down on the matress to sit, a calloused thumb ghosting over your knuckles in an attempt at comfort despite the mockery of his tone. "S’okay princess, don’t have to hide it”

heat spreads from the tips of your ears down your neck, darkening the already hot flush of your cheeks. “Logan I- I swear I didn’t mean-“

“Didnt mean what? To fuck yourself stupid or for me to catch you? Cause babydoll it looks like you failed at both”

A sound bubbles from your throat at that. shame, embarrassment, horror, arousal.. All knotting together in a potent mix deep in your stomach.

Your legs subconsciously close tighter under the thin sheet, a move that doesn't go unnoticed under logans perception.

its also a move that further jostles the dildo still tucked inside you, the blunt head prodding against a spot that has your eyes rolling before you can stop them.

You whimper a panicked little sound at the humiliation; at the lack of friction, the pleasure still festering in your gut. The words that fall so mockingly from logans lips.

He doesnt need his senses to feel the shameful arousal that radiates from your haistily hidden body and it has him huffing in amusement; whilst you scold yourself further for not removing the toy in your panic.

"Cmon, open up.. let me help" he murmurs, his large free hand grasping and pulling at the blanket covering you. It slips down further, covering only your waist- You should probably tell him to stop, should hold the fabric tigher in your fingers, be less calm, put up more of a fight.. He's your dads friend, a taboo line you really shouldnt want to cross..

And yet, you do. You want- need- to cross it with carelessness; with arousal burning your skin inside out.

You let him slip the fabric down past your hips. Past your clenched thighs, your knees, ankles. Until it sits in a discarded heap at the end of your bed.

Its the cool air of the room paired with the feeling of his calloused palm snaking its way back up your left leg that rouses you. "B-but logan, my dad is-"

"-Is gone. work called." he interups, his fingers kneading at the soft skin of your outer thigh. "Trust me s’okay.. S' just us. Me 'n you babydoll."

And with that said, a small reassured nod shaking your frame, his large hands pry your legs appart. Your body shuffles with his following, right leg coming to sit over the broad expance of his shirt clad shoulder, the bed creaking under the weight.

A scratchy kiss is planted just above each of your knees, logans beard rubbing as he shifts with you, coming to rest between your thighs.

The sounds of your heavy breath is the only thing filling the room until logan groans, deep and loud at the sight of your bare pussy still stuffed full of the the toy. "Fuckin lookatcha, already drooling.. such a needy little thing”

You keen at the feeling of his heavy hands touching your body, one sitting heavy on your lower stomach and the other resting against the base of the toy, careful not to move it just yet. You can tell by the way hes looking at you he's taking in the sight of your slick stuffed cunt.

"Want ya to show me what feels good, how you like to be touched.. show me what you were doin before i caught you" his words are quiet, mumbled against your thigh, yet demanding as his eyes find yours for that extra confirmation.

Your head moves in a nod but he tuts disapproving at the action. "Words princess, need ya to use em okay?"

"Y-yeah.. okay"

Wordlessly your hands drift back to your top, slipping it back to rest just below your collar bones, nipples perky and sensitive. It draws an exhale from your body as one hand comes up to your mouth, spit covering two fingers as you suck at them.

Once sufficiently wet they slip back against your left nipple, slick and shiney as you circle teasingly at the bud while your free hand gropes at the flesh on the other side, before moving to mirror the movements on the right. this time palm fondling against the swell of the left.

Your eyes fall closed at the sensations, quiet sounds falling from your lips; steady yet shy. Logan simply watches on, silent and enamored with every move you make.

Then your hand drifts once more, down your tummy and over the hand of his resting there, your touch soft and warm.

Theres a breathy sigh as you wrap your fingers around his on the base of the dildo as you push and pull back and forth. Alternating between the feeling of the silicon balls deep and the tip sitting bearly inside until it slips out with a thoroughly wet pop.

It's this time however logan cant muffle his groans at the sight; of you dragging his hand with the toy cock up and down your dripping slit. It further hardens his own cock sitting behind the denim of his jeans.

Logan lets go under your grip, using it to push your legs open wider as you slide the toy back inside; maintaining a steady pace. palm hitting your swolen clit with the force of your own thrusts. It feels good, fucking yourself like this with his eyes hungrily on you. It has you whining and keening, small uh uh uhs the longer you play but its not enough, not really.

Not when logan is laying between your legs with the knowledge of how to really get you off.

"L-logan, please.. Cant.. Doesnt feel as good myself" you huff and whine sounding akin to a petulant child not getting what she wants.. But in a cruel way you find thats true; while you aren't anywhere near a child anymore, you aren't getting what you really want.

The heavy hand that rests on your tummy moves down, until Logan's thumb presses on the hood of your clit. He tugs the swollen flesh back carefully and then smirks. He spits and you gasp. Yet he makes no moves, just watches it dribble down.

It has the need burning inside of you igniting further and under his touch you find any past embarrassment dissipating.

So you plead again, feeble and quiet, almost defeated. "P-please do something.. Need you to do it." you beg for the smallest movements, for anything he's willing to give.

And to your surprise... He does just that. He gives. The hand that opened your legs moving to shove away the fingers that wrap around the end of the silicon. Its done with an indignant shush when you whine; the dildo once again moving back and forth against your gummy walls. "Shh shh, s'okay I'll do it, you wanna fuck a plastic cock you've gotta at least do it properly princess”

The room fills with wet plap, plap, plaps, as logan keeps his quickened pace. Thrusting the toy steady as his eyes watch each motion hungrily.

"F-feels good.." you mumble squeezing at the meat of your tits, a hand coming down your stomach until it wraps tight around his thick forearm. Your nails dig in and he grunts at the sting of the crescent shapes denting his marred skin, but his movements never faulter.

Your eyes flutter and roll once more at a full thrust. The blunted bulbous tip prodding experimentally at that one spot again; slick and sticky silicone balls pressed flush against your ass as your hips try to buck for friction.

“ooh, there. we. go." logan huffs against your trembling thigh atop his shoulder, punctuating his words with three rougher thrusts. plunging the silicone dildo so deep you swear you feel it in your belly. "that’s the spot huh baby”

"M-mhm.. Close" You mumble through quiet moans. nodding quickly, lip bitten beneath your teeth as the pleasure builds faster and faster. Theres a tremble in your legs that grows the longer your body keens; back arching and hips writhing.

A condecenting chuckle slips from logan, dark and deep as he somehow manages to plunge the dildo faster and harder inside you.

The force makes your body jolt up the bed and you dont know if your scrambling towards or away from whats happening between your thighs. But you do find yourself greatful as your head hits the soft pillows; It happens the very same moment logans thumb finally, finally begins circling the pulsing bud of your clit.

Mindlessly you cry out, fingers pressing harder into your breast and logans forearm. "S-so close.. pleasepleaseplease"

His thumb moves faster, the rough pad slick and wet as you throb beneath his touch. Your body writhes as you moan out obscenities, the pleasure filled coil in your belly twisting tighter with every second that passes.

"Need you to do it babydoll, need to see you make a mess f'me." he growls, commanding.

Moments later you do just that. You cum with a such a visceral sob of his name that it wracks the entirety of your body; head thrown to the pillows and back arched so high it almost looks painful. White hot pleasure running through your veins as your stomach muscles heave.

Yet logan doesnt stop, doesnt let up his movements with his thumb or the now soaking toy cock, thrusting it with loud lewd noises of your cunt as it coats creamy with your release.

He simply coos out concoctions of praise; versions of 'that's it, Atta girl' and 'look so pretty when you cum' with his head pressed against your trembling thigh. Eyes dark and watching the way your slickend holes greadily clench.

He's hard, painfully so, but he knows this is a sight that he'll dream about later; his own slick cock in hand in the confines of his bedroom.

Overstimulation quickly threads its way into what was once overwhelming pleasure, turning the shocks into sparks. You writhe and moan under his hands, begging desperately as your hips buck frantic. "L-logan.. Im done- f-fuck s' too much, too much!"

"Ah ah" he tuts. "Your done when i say your done, need'a see you gush one more time" your eyes roll at that, the stimulation and the way his chapped lips press the words into your pubic bone.

Your eyes screw shut, brows furrowed as you struggle though the pain that with each movement winds your belly tighter. By now tears stream down your cheeks, hands grasping tight to anywhere you can reach of him; To push him away or pull him closer you still dont know.

The rubbing of his thumb on your pulsing clit ceases monetarily at the broken sounds you make and for a second you think hes letting up, going easy on you.

However the feeling of his hot mouth wrapping around the sensitive bud changes your mind. You squeal, loud and panicked, eyes flying open as your legs desperately try to shut around his head.

"N-nno no no" desperate hiccuped sobs falling from you as he laps and sucks, dildo still pushing into you, drawing you to the very edge of the burning pleasure pain in your gut.

"Do it princess, fuckin do it. Know you wanna" he mumbles wetly into your weeping pussy, tongue flicking in quick back and forths.

Your hips thump at his nose, coating the greying in his beard as you cum again. It's filled with a pain that drives the feeling of orgasm higher. your scream is silent, mouth opening and closing in wordless 'o' motions, brain so clouded your words fail.

The motions of the his mouth and the dildo slow until Logan's pulling off you. The sensitivity drawing a whine from your throat, while the the creamy coated sight of the silicone makes him groan loudly as he throw it somewhere on the bed.

For a while you lie there completely boneless, panting as your legs continue to tremble with the aftershocks, logan still resting between your thighs cooing softly. Hardly noticing the way he shuffles his way up your body until his spit soaked lips find your forehead.

"Good girl.. My good girl, Did so good f'me babydoll" he murmers softly against your skin between kisses, a contrast to his previous domineering tone.

You feel him gather your frame into him, the buttons of his shirt pressing into your skin as he lifts you from the bed bridal style. You smile up at him gently, meeting his gaze as your lashes flutter sleepily. His scent comforting as you wrap your arms around his neck, snuggling your head deeper into his chest; trying to burrow your own space inside.

His quiet chuckle is felt before you hear it, rumbing deep from his lungs as he pulls you tigher to him; heading for the bathroom. "Cute babydoll.. Real cute"

you whine at that, an exhausted but happy little sound as he leans his head down to kiss your hair before mumbling "lets getcha cleaned up hm? Ill take care of the sheets"

Eee- this has gotta be one of my favorite pieces I've ever written!! Lemme know whatchu think!! 🫶

[multiple-fandomimagines]

Tommy Shelby x Reader: In the Lion’s Den

Summary: When your estranged father shows up unannounced in Birmingham, slipping into your home like he still has a right to be there, you do what you’ve always done, stay quiet, keep the peace, and pretend the past can’t hurt you. But Tommy Shelby isn’t a man who misses the signs, and when he discovers the bruises you tried to hide, he makes one thing clear: no one lays a hand on what’s his and walks away unscathed.

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: domestic abuse, physical violence, and trauma, including past and present abuse by a parental figure, choking, panic attacks, and PTSD. Mentions of war trauma, blood, minor injuries, and threats of violence

A/N: welp, I’ve fallen back down the peaky blinders rabbit hole.

The day started like any other.

The warmth of the fireplace crackled softly in the background as you sat curled on the couch, a book in your lap. Tommy was at his desk, going through paperwork, cigarette smoke curling lazily in the air. It was a rare quiet evening, one of those moments where the weight of the world seemed just a little lighter.

Then, there was a knock at the door.

Your brow furrowed slightly. It was late– far too late for visitors. Unless it was Arthur staggering by, drunk again. You glanced at Tommy, who sighed, flicking his cigarette into the ashtray before standing. He made his way toward the door, his steps slow and deliberate.

“If Arthur's pissed on the doorstep again, I swear to God…”

Tommy pulled the door open, expecting Arthur’s drunken frame to be swaying on the other side, slurring apologies for waking the house.

But it wasn’t Arthur.

His stance shifted ever so slightly, his sharp blue eyes scanning the man before him.

You barely registered Tommy’s hesitation because the moment you saw him, the breath in your lungs turned to ice.

Because suddenly, there he was. 

Standing on your doorstep, smiling like he belonged there.

Your father. 

Your hands clenched in your lap.

“Surprise,” he drawled, stepping forward slightly. “You’re not going to invite your old man in?”

Your body remained frozen. “What… what are you doing here?”

Your father let out a chuckle, his eyes scanning the entryway as if he was appraising it. Then, he stepped forward without waiting for permission. “What? A father isn’t allowed to come see his only daughter once and a while?”

You blinked, your stomach twisting. “How did you get the address?”

He waved a hand. “Your brother gave it to me. Had to practically bully it out of him.”

Your jaw tightened. 

“What a place,” he mused, looking around before his eyes landed on Tommy. “And you must be the husband, aye?”

Tommy stood there, unreadable, his gaze cool and detached. He stepped forward, offering his hand, because that’s what men like him did– offered respect until given a reason not to.

Your father shook it.

“Thomas Shelby,” Tommy introduced himself, his voice measured.

Your father smirked. “Oh, yeah, I’ve heard of you alright.”

Tommy merely hummed, but his attention flickered back to you. He saw it then– the way your arms had wrapped around yourself, your fingers gripping your sleeves, your body tensed like a coiled spring.

You barely spoke all evening.

At dinner, Tommy tried to gauge your mood, throwing you small glances, subtle touches, but each time, you withdrew. When his hand brushed yours under the table, you flinched.

Just slightly. But Tommy noticed.

That night, after you’d made up the spare room and your father went to bed, Tommy pulled you into the hallway. His fingers tilted your chin up, his thumb brushing against your jaw.

“Everything alright?” His voice was soft, but there was something in it– something heavy.

You forced a small smile. “Of course. Just tired.”

Tommy studied you for a long moment, his gaze searching. He didn’t look convinced.

You exhaled, glancing toward the closed door of the spare room, then back at him. “I’m sorry he just showed up like that. I– I didn’t know he was coming.”

Tommy shrugged slightly, his thumb still absently stroking your cheek. “It’s alright. Family’s always welcome here. Lord knows mine barges in whenever they damn well please. It's kind of nice having it be yours for a change."

You let out a dry laugh, but it was hallow as your stomach twisted. “Right. Thank you.”

He watched you for a beat longer before sighing. “You sure you’re alright?”

You nodded, almost too quickly. “I’m fine.”

He exhaled through his nose, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face gently. Tommy watched you for another second, his thumb pausing at your cheekbone before he finally nodded.

“Alright, love.” His voice was quiet, but you knew him well enough to hear the doubt behind it. He wasn’t convinced.

You both made your way to the bedroom in silence. Tommy moved around the room, shrugging off his vest, unbuttoning his shirt. You sat at the edge of the bed, staring at your hands, the weight of your father’s presence pressing heavy on your chest.

You should have told Tommy the truth.

You should have said something.

But you couldn’t. You didn’t know if it was the shame that stopped you– not wanting Tommy to know where or what you really came from… 

He saw you as strong, capable, resilient.

But if he knew… If he knew that you used to be a girl who flinched at raised voices, who held her breath when footsteps neared, who learned how to measure a person’s anger like a storm on the horizon, would he still look at you the same?

The thought made your throat tighten.

You lay beside Tommy, facing away from him, curled in on yourself. A moment later, his arm draped over your waist, pulling you into his warmth.

“You’re tense,” he murmured against the back of your neck.

“Just tired,” you said again. 

He studied you for a moment before sighing, obviously unconvinced. But he kissed your shoulder anyway. “Get some rest, then.”

It took a long time before you finally did.

…

The days stretched on.

Your father made himself comfortable in your home, slipping into the space between you and Tommy like he had a right to be there.

He drank Tommy’s whiskey like it was his own, spoke to him like they were equals, like there was no history of violence, no reason for you to avoid looking him in the eye.

And yet, you did what you had always done…

You played the part: the dutiful daughter. The quiet peacemaker. The one who let his sharp words roll off her back like they didn’t cut.

But the part that made you sick to your stomach, was how easily you fell back into it. How, in his presence, you became her again– that pitiful version of yourself… that scared little girl who walked on eggshells, who measured her words carefully, who held herself so still when he passed by, like movement alone might set him off.

You hated it– hated that he still had that power over you. Hated that, despite the years of distance, despite the fact that you had built a new life for yourself, he still made you feel so small.

You tried desperately to keep Tommy from seeing that version of yourself. You smiled when you needed to. Laughed at the right moments. Acted like everything was fine.

But the longer the visit stretched out, the harder it was to hide your discomfort.

Days passed. Then nearly a week. Your father showed no sign of leaving.

One afternoon, while Tommy was away at work, you found your father in the hallway, stretching, rolling his shoulders like he’d spent the day laboring instead of lounging.

You took a deep breath.

“Dad.”

He looked up, raising a brow as if you had interrupted something important.

“How long are you planning to stay for?” you asked, keeping your voice even, cautious.

He shrugged, running a hand through his graying hair. “Dunno. Not sure yet.”

You shifted your weight, forcing yourself to hold your ground. “I just– Tommy has a lot going on, and I don’t want to impose.”

Your father scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. “Oh, please. Your husband’s got plenty of room. He’s not hurting, is he?”

You swallowed your frustration and tried again.

“Did you tell Mom you were coming?”

His expression changed. 

The lighthearted arrogance drained away, replaced by something darker, more dangerous. His posture stiffened, and his gaze turned sharp.

“That’s none of your business,” he said coldly.

You should’ve stopped there. Should’ve let it go. But something inside you, some small ember of defiance, pushed forward. “It is my business. And this is my house–”

The slap came so fast, you barely saw it coming.

The sharp crack echoed in the hallway, and before you could register what had happened, you were stumbling back, one hand flying to your cheek as heat bloomed across your skin.

Your breath hitched. Your father loomed over you, his face twisted in a sneer. “You don’t get to speak to me like that. Do you understand me? What I say or don’t say to your mother is between me and her. Understood?”

You nodded quickly, pressing your lips together, trying to swallow down the lump in your throat. “Sorry– I– I was just–” you stopped yourself. “Sorry.”

Your cheek burned and your heart pounded in your ears as you turned on your heel and walked away.

You closed yourself into the bathroom, locking it behind you before turning to the mirror.

The mark was already forming. A bright red outline, the shape of his palm clear against your skin. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. You inhaled deeply, steadying yourself, gripping the edge of the sink until your knuckles went white.

…

That evening, you made dinner. A nice dinner. A meal you knew Tommy liked– something warm, familiar. A distraction. Maybe even something to please your father.

You set the table carefully, your hands only shaking slightly as you arranged the plates. You kept your face turned slightly away, hoping the dim lighting would mask the worst of it.

When Tommy got home, the door creaked open, and the familiar weight of his presence filled the space.

You were stirring something at the stove when his arms slipped around your waist from behind.

His touch was warm and grounding. His lips pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder as he murmured, “Smells good in here.”

You smiled– forced and practiced. “I thought I’d make us something nice.”

His arms tightened briefly. “God, it’s been a long day,” he murmured.

Then, as he leaned in, pressing another kiss just below your ear, he turned his head slightly, just enough for his gaze to catch the side of your face.

You felt him go still. His hands, steady on your waist, tensed.

His lips parted. “What’s this?” he asked, finger ghosting along the edge of your cheek.

Your stomach twisted. You knew what he had seen. The mark. The redness that you couldn’t fully hide. 

You turned your head slightly, brushing him off. “Oh, it’s nothing. I–” You exhaled, forcing a lighthearted tone as you stepped away from his embrace. “I walked right into that hallway shelf. Must not have been paying attention. I was stupid.”

Tommy didn’t say anything for a long moment. You could feel his eyes trained on you, sharp and assessing, as you moved around the kitchen. Before he could challenge your excuse, another voice cut in.

“Tommy!”

Your father stepped into the room, grinning, swirling a half-full glass of whiskey in his hand. “Good to see you, son. How’s business today?”

Tommy and your father sat at the table, engaging in light conversation. Your father asked about business. Tommy responded, his voice steady, polite.

But his eyes kept flicking to you.

You barely spoke. You moved carefully, quietly, only nodding when necessary.

Tommy noticed. He saw the way you kept your head slightly down. The way your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes. The way your hands trembled slightly when you reached for a glass.

You forced yourself to sit through dinner, every bite feeling like it might turn to ash in your mouth. Every sip of water was just an excuse to avoid speaking.

You were suffocating. You needed to get out.

So, when the dishes were cleared, and the conversation between Tommy and your father began to stretch into the evening, you pushed your chair back and stood.

“I think I’ll turn in early,” you murmured, keeping your voice light. “Didn’t sleep very well last night.”

Tommy’s gaze snapped to you immediately.

Your father barely glanced up. “Night, sweetheart,” he muttered, already swirling the last of his drink in his glass.

Tommy, though– he studied you. You didn’t meet his eyes.

He opened his mouth like he might say something, might challenge you, might ask you to stay, but after a moment, he simply nodded.

“Alright, love.” His voice was careful. Measured.

You forced a small smile before slipping from the room.

…

It was late when Tommy finally came to bed.

You heard him before you saw him, the slow creak of the bedroom door, the quiet sound of his footsteps across the floor.

He moved carefully, as if not wanting to wake you.

You kept your breathing steady and your eyes closed and pretended to be asleep. 

The mattress dipped slightly as he crawled in beside you. For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Then, slowly, his hand came to rest on your hip. His touch was gentle, hesitant. You didn’t move. Didn’t react.

A deep sigh left his lips, and you felt the warmth of his breath against the back of your neck. His grip on your hip tightened slightly, just for a moment, before he exhaled again and let it relax.

You waited for him to say something– to ask, maybe demand answers. 

But he didn’t.

Instead, he did what Tommy Shelby never did. He hesitated.

And it was at that moment you realized, he was waiting for you.

Waiting for you to come to him.

But you weren’t ready. So, you remained still, your heart hammering against your ribs as his thumb trailed lazily along your hip. Then, he stretched his arm carefully around your waist and pulled you close.

… 

You kept up the act– kept making dinner. Kept playing hostess. Kept pretending like the walls of your own home weren’t closing in on you.

A few nights later, you found yourself in the kitchen, stirring a pot on the stove, when you heard the front door swing open.

The sound was jarring, clumsy, forceful, followed by the sound of staggering footsteps. 

The hair on the back of your neck stood up before you even turned around. Your father stepped into the kitchen, his shirt wrinkled, his eyes glassy, the stench of whiskey thick in the air.

He wasn’t just drunk, he was angry. A cold wave of fear ran down your spine.

You froze, hands gripping the edge of the counter as he loomed in the doorway.

“Look at you,” he slurred, waving a hand at the dinner on the stove. “Little housewife, cooking for your big, important husband.”

“Dinner’s almost ready,” you said, picking up a glass cup from the counter and trying to keep your voice steady. “You should sit down.”

His eyes narrowed. “What? You're giving me orders now?”

Your grip tightened on the glass. He took another step closer.

“You always were a smug little thing, weren’t you?” He muttered, shaking his head. “Always had something to say.”

You held your breath as he took another unsteady step forward, his eyes dark and unfocused, but sharp enough to cut straight through you. “I didn’t mean–”

“Now that you've married a Shelby, you're arrogant, too. Tell me,” he interrupted, the word twisted with venom. “Was it him who kept you from coming home all this time? Or was it you? Think you’re too good for your own family now? With your rich fucking husband at your beck and call?”

Your grip on the glass tightened. “You’re drunk.” You tried to turn away, but your father reached out to clutch your wrist. 

“Don’t walk away from me.” His grip tightened, his fingers digging into your skin like a vice.

Your stomach twisted violently. “Let go,” you said, your voice shaking despite your efforts to sound firm.

He didn’t. Instead, he yanked you back toward him, forcing you to stumble. The glass in your hand wobbled precariously, liquid sloshing over the rim.

“The king of fucking Birmingham, aye? And you’re what? His housewife? Or his whore?”

“Stop it,” you cut in, trying to wrench your wrist free. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I don't care who you're married to. You don’t get to fucking tell me what to do,” he spat.

Your pulse hammered, panic rising in your chest. “Dad, just stop– you’re drunk.”

He let out a bitter laugh, the sound jagged, cruel. “Drunk?” He sneered. “I’ve been drinking since before you could fucking walk, girl. You think you know better than me? Think that slimey Shelby husband of yours turned you into something special?”

“Tommy,” you swallowed thickly, forcing the words out. “Is a good man. I know that term might be hard for you to comprehend–"

A dark flash crossed his face. And then– the slap. It struck you with enough force to snap your head to the side, the sting burning hot across your cheek. The room blurred for a moment, your ears ringing.

Your father didn’t give you time to react. Before you could move, before you could process, he shoved you hard against the wall.

The glass slipped from your fingers, hitting the floor and shattering, fragments scattering across the kitchen tiles.

Your back collided with the surface, your breath leaving you in a sharp gasp. The pain barely registered before his hands were on you again– this time around your throat, squeezing. 

Your hands flew up, clawing at his wrists, your body struggling instinctively. But his grip was tight, unrelenting.

Your chest heaved.

Your lungs burned.

A strangled sound escaped you, but it wasn’t loud enough. Not enough to stop him.

His breath was hot against your face as he leaned in. He was seething. His teeth clenched together as his eyes bore down on you with pure hatred. 

Your vision blurred. Your limbs weakened. The edges of your consciousness began to flicker, the darkness creeping in.

In the hazy distance, you vaguely heard the sound of the front door opening, followed by heavy footsteps.

Then, the pressure around your throat disappeared instantly as your father was ripped away from you. You collapsed to the floor in a heap, gasping, your hands flying to your throat as air rushed back into your lungs. Your body shook violently, but you barely noticed.

Because in front of you, Tommy had your father by the collar, slamming him against the kitchen table with enough force to rattle the dishes.

The look on Tommy’s face was lethal.

Your father coughed, groaning, trying to push himself up. But Tommy was on him before he could move.

His fist connected with your father’s jaw– once, then twice. The crack of bone meeting bone echoing through the room.

Blood splattered across the floor. Your father groaned, but Tommy wasn’t done. He grabbed him again, dragging him up by his shirt, slamming him against the wall this time.

Your father choked, spitting blood.

Tommy leaned in, his voice eerily calm now. “You ever touch her again, and I’ll kill you with my barehands. You hear me?”

Your father wheezed, coughing weakly. “Fuck you–”

In an instant, Tommy pulled his gun.

He pressed the barrel beneath your father’s chin, tilting his head back slightly, forcing him to meet his gaze. The air in the kitchen was thick, the only sound the ragged breathing of the men in front of you.

Your father’s eyes widened, his drunken haze fading into something closer to fear.

Tommy’s finger flexed on the trigger.

Your stomach twisted violently.

“Tommy,” you pleaded, voice barely above a whisper.

His grip didn’t loosen.

At least not right away. His chest heaved, his knuckles white around the handle of the gun. 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Tommy exhaled sharply and lowered the gun.

“Get the fuck out of my house,” he spat before releasing your father’s collar. 

Your father crumpled to the floor, coughing, gasping.

Your father didn’t wait to be told twice.

His hand clutched where Tommy had struck him, his movements shaky as he scrambled to his feet. Blood dripped from his split lip onto the kitchen floor, but he didn’t bother wiping it away. He staggered toward the door, barely able to walk straight, a mix of pain and drunken stupor slowing his steps.

He didn’t even bother to grab his things. Or have the courage to look back at you.

Just stumbled toward the exit, his breath ragged and uneven, one last curse muttered under his breath as he shoved the door open and disappeared into the night.

Tommy followed him to the threshold, his cold gaze never leaving the man’s retreating figure.

Then, click. The sound of the lock sliding into place echoed through the house.

Tommy exhaled sharply, pressing his palm against the door, as if physically barring your father from ever stepping foot in this house again. His shoulders were tense, the muscles in his arms flexing as he gripped the wood tightly.

Your focus shifted to the glass– the shattered pieces lay scattered across the floor, sharp edges gleaming under the dim kitchen light.

Your hands trembled as you scrambled forward, sinking to your knees, desperate to clean it up. You needed to fix this. You needed to make things right.

Tommy was angry. You knew he was.

And if there was one thing you had learned in your life, it was how to keep the peace. How to stay quiet, to smooth over the damage, to do whatever it took to make things okay again.

So you reached for the shards, ignoring the way your fingers shook. One after another, you gathered them in your hands, barely noticing when a sharp edge knicked your skin.

A thin line of red beaded at your skin, but you kept going.

If you could just get it all cleaned up– 

Strong hands stopped you, fingers curling around the wrist you had collected pieces in.

“Love.”

The word was soft, but firm.

You hadn’t even realized he had moved, but now he was crouched in front of you, his hands gently prying your fist open so that he could take the glass from you.

You tried to protest, shaking your head. “I– I just need to clean this up, Tommy, I–”

“Leave it,” he said quietly, reaching his arm up and discarding the shards on the countertop.

Your lip trembled. “I– Tommy, I–”

You couldn’t finish the sentence. Because the panic was setting in now, hitting you all at once. Your hands shook violently, the tremors traveling up your arms, your whole body beginning to quake. Your breath came in short, sharp gasps, your chest rising and falling too fast.

You were unraveling.

“I– I can fix it, Tommy, I have to–” Your words broke apart into a sob as you tried to pull away from him, your limbs weak and frantic all at once. “I can fix it–”

Tommy didn’t let you go. “Hey, hey, hey,” he said gently. "It's alright."

Your eyes flickered back to the rest of the shattered glass, your mind spiraling. “It’s a mess, I made a mess, I– I didn’t mean to, I–”

“Love, stop…” His voice was a tether, grounding you even as you spiraled.

But you couldn’t stop.

Your fingers clawed weakly at his arms, desperate for something, anything, to keep you from sinking completely.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out, your whole body trembling so badly you could barely keep yourself upright. “I– I didn’t mean to–”

Tommy swore under his breath. Then, without hesitation, he pulled you in. His arms wrapped around you, strong and steady.

You let out a broken sound, your fingers gripping his shirt in fists as sobs racked your frame. You were shaking so hard it felt like you might come apart completely.

But Tommy held you together.

His hand cradled the back of your head, anchoring you to him. “Shh,” he murmured, his voice thick with something you couldn’t quite name. “Stop, just stop.”

The words tumbled out anyway. “I– I swear I didn’t mean to make him angry, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to–”

You felt the way his breath hitched, the way his hold on you tightened just slightly. 

“Do not apologize,” he said, voice low and steady. “Do not apologize for that man. You hear me?”

You shook your head, barely able to breathe. “But I– I should’ve just–”

“No.” Tommy’s tone left no room for argument.

His hand slid from your back to cup your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. His blue eyes were burning now– not with rage, not with violence, but with something unwavering.

“Now you listen to me,” he murmured, his thumb brushing away a tear from your cheek. “He did this. Not you.”

A sob caught in your throat, but he didn’t let you look away. 

Tears blurred your vision, but the panic still gripped you tight, its claws lodged deep in your ribs. You shook your head weakly. “I– I should have done something.”

Tommy’s gaze darkened, his hands firm but gentle as they cradled your face. “Like what?” His voice was unwavering, pushing you to say it.

You swallowed, your breath coming in shallow gasps. “I should’ve just kept quiet. But I pushed him. I should’ve known better.”

The moment the words left your lips, shame burned through you like acid. It felt filthy to say it out loud.

Tommy inhaled sharply, his grip tightening ever so slightly. His thumb skimmed over the fading red mark on your cheek, the bruises forming along your throat, and something behind his eyes fractured.

“He would’ve done it anyway,” Tommy said, his tone quieter now. “No matter what you did. No matter what you said. Because men like that don’t need a reason to hurt people.”

Realization washed over you.

He didn’t blame you.

Tommy didn’t blame you.

You had spent your whole life believing it was your fault. That every slap, every harsh word, every cruel punishment was something you had earned.

But Tommy didn’t see it that way. He saw him as the problem. He saw him as the one at fault.

Not you.

The weight of that realization shattered something inside you, splintering through your chest like glass. You let out a broken sound, your body crumbling under the weight of all of it.

And Tommy caught you. He pulled you into his arms again, crushing you against him, holding you so tightly it felt like he was trying to anchor you to the world, to him.

And you let him.

You clung to him, your fingers twisting into his shirt, needing to feel the solidness of him, the warmth, the safety.

Tommy pressed his lips to the top of your head, lingering there as his breath shuddered against your skin. And he didn’t let go. Not when your sobs finally quieted, not when your breathing finally steadied, not even when your body had stopped trembling in his arms.

He just held you.

His hands ran slow, soothing strokes down your back, grounding you in the steady rhythm of his touch. His breath was warm against your hair, his chest solid beneath your cheek, rising and falling in time with yours.

For a long time, neither of you spoke. 

Then, finally, his voice broke the silence. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You stiffened slightly, but his grip didn’t loosen.

“I would’ve thrown him to the wolves the second he walked through the fucking door,” he murmured, his jaw tightening against your forehead. “Christ, I thought you wanted him here.”

You swallowed, gripping the fabric of his shirt in your hands, but you didn’t answer. You didn’t know how.

Because how could you explain that some wounds never really heal? That no matter how far you run, no matter how much time passes, the fear always lingers– deep, insidious, always waiting for an excuse to crawl back up your throat and choke the words before they ever leave your lips?

You felt Tommy sigh against you. His arms tightened, just slightly, like he was bracing himself.

And then, his voice dipped lower. “I should’ve pushed harder,” he murmured. “I knew– I knew something was wrong. And I let you tell me it wasn’t.”

That got your attention.

Your breath hitched, and you pulled back just enough to look at him, your hands still fisted in his shirt.

“Tommy, no.” Your voice was hoarse, shaky, but firm. “This isn’t your fault.”

His jaw tensed.

“I just wasn’t ready to talk about it,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. 

Tommy studied you for a long moment, his blue eyes unreadable. Then, finally, he nodded, exhaling slowly.

“How long?”

You gazed up at him questioningly.

"How long has he been hurting you for?"

His blue eyes burned into yours, steady, patient, but unrelenting.

You took a breath, one that barely filled your lungs, and whispered,

“I think I was six the first time. I accidentally left the laundry out in the rain. Ruined his favorite suit."

You felt the shift in him. The way his hands, still cradling your face, tightened slightly. The way his breathing turned just a shade too slow, too controlled, like he was forcing himself to stay calm.

"I figured I deserved that one. It was an expensive suit and… well, we didn't come from money."

You swallowed, your throat tight, forcing the words out even as they scraped against something raw inside you.

“But the next time it happened, it was something smaller. I don’t even remember what I did.” You let out a weak, humorless breath. “I think I knocked over a drink. Or maybe I spoke when I wasn’t supposed to.”

You shifted slightly, staring at the spot on the floor where the glass had shattered earlier, as if it might somehow piece itself back together.

“Eventually, the reasons stopped mattering, I guess,” you murmured. “He’d get angry over anything. If you looked at him the wrong way, or even if you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Your fingers twisted into the fabric of Tommy’s shirt, a subconscious need to hold onto something solid.

“When I was nine, he threw me against the table." Your throat felt tight, but the words were coming now, unraveling like thread. “I hit the edge. It cracked a rib, I think. I couldn’t breathe right for weeks.”

Tommy exhaled, sharp and controlled, like he was holding something down, something dangerous.

“The next day, he brought me flowers.” A bitter smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. “To say he was sorry.”

Your voice wavered. “I don't know why but kept them in my room until they wilted. Because no matter how badly he hurt me... I think I still wanted to believe he loved me.”

The words felt foreign coming out of your mouth, like admitting them made them more real. More pathetic.

"I don't know what happened," you admitted. "He showed up here and I just... I panicked. It felt like I was that nine year old girl again. Just trying to make him happy, despite how scared he always made me. It felt like... Like I didn’t belong to myself anymore."

Tommy's hand rose to cup your face, his fingers brushing tenderly over your bruised cheek. His thumb traced the fading outline of your father’s fingers, and his gaze darkened, his lips pressing into a firm line.

Then, after a long pause, he spoke. “Fear that deep that never goes away,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, distant. “Not completely.”

You blinked at him, something heavy settling in your chest. He wasn’t just talking about you anymore.

“France?” you whispered.

His jaw tightened slightly. “Aye.”

His thumb brushed absently over your skin, but his gaze had drifted, staring past you now, as if he was seeing something else entirely.

“I used to think I’d come back and it would be over,” he continued, his voice steady, but different. He was using that careful, guarded tone he used when speaking of the war. “That the things I saw, the things I felt... they’d stay behind, buried in the trenches where they belonged.”

A humorless breath left him. “They didn’t.”

A silence stretched between you. You wondered if he had ever admitted that the war hadn’t ended when he stepped back onto English soil.

Just like your past hadn’t ended when you left home.

Your fingers curled slightly against his chest, your breath uneven. “How do you live with it?”

Tommy’s eyes refocused on you.

“I haven’t quite figured that one out yet,” he admitted.

His thumb brushed absentmindedly over your collarbone. “But it helps to find things that keep you here.” His voice dropped lower, his eyes locked onto yours. “Things worth staying for.”

Tommy exhaled, his fingers pressing lightly against your skin. “And maybe one day, you wake up, and you realize that even though it's still there, that fear doesn’t own you anymore.”

You swallowed thickly, your voice barely above a whisper. “And what keeps you here, Tommy?”

His hand on your chest tightened slightly, his fingers curling over your heart. His breath brushed against your skin. Then, softly, almost so softly you didn’t hear it, he sighed. “I thought that was obvious.” 

His hand slid up, fingers trailing along your jaw before cupping your cheek with a tenderness that made your chest ache.

“I’ll always protect you,” he murmured, his voice low, steady. Certain. “I mean it,” he said. “You never have to be afraid in this house again. Not while I’m breathing.”

The way he said it– it wasn’t just a promise.

It was a fact.

A truth carved into the very foundation of who he was. 

You swallowed thickly, pressing your forehead against his chest, letting his warmth, his presence, his words wrap around you like armor.

Tommy’s arms came around you again, strong and steady, holding you like he never planned on letting go.

[multiple-fandomimagines]

I’ve Got You

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Mentions of past domestic violence (possible triggers in this one), mentions of panic attacks, 

Author’s Note: I needed an outlet today. While I’ve had moments in the past that have caused panic attacks, this one was by far the worst. I should be strong enough to handle it. But unfortunately triggers are out there in the world and we can’t always be prepared for them. I was in a safe environment. I was having the best day, but hearing a single name had caused a panic attack right in the middle of grabbing a few things I needed for my assignment at work. I didn’t believe anyone would understand so I dealt with it by myself. The moment I got home, I broke down and let it all out. This is part of that outlet. Feel free to skip this one if you want. 

(Gif credit goes to rightful owner)

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[multiple-fandomimagines]

Masterpiece | K.M

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A/N: Soooo, everyone is going to pretend I posted this yesterday...right?

My attempt at a fluffy one shot. But angsty in the beginning. Happy belated Valentine’s Day!

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Klaus has had the textbook definition of a terrible day. He came home irritated and short-tempered, exploding on anyone who spoke to him—even you

As he stormed through the courtyard, you came down the stairs, “Klauuss~” you say in a cheery tone, “your back! I was thinking we could—“ you were immediately cut off by his sharp tone and cutting words, flinching slightly

"Not now, Y/N!" His voice booms through the courtyard, making a nearby vase rattle. Dark veins begin to appear beneath his eyes as his control slips "I'm not in the mood for your cheerfulness. I've spent the entire day dealing with incompetent fools who can't follow simple instructions, and the last thing I need is-"

He stops abruptly, catching the slight flinch in your movement. Something in his expression shifts, a flash of regret crossing his features before it's quickly masked by his usual stoic facade. He runs a hand through his disheveled dirty blonde hair, taking a deliberate step back

"I apologize, love. But I need to be alone right now. Before I do something I'll regret." His accent thickens with emotion as he speaks, each word carefully measured

Without waiting for a response, he turns and storms up the stairs toward his art studio, the sound of his boots echoing against the floors.

You sigh, deciding to let him be for once.

The moon hangs high in the night sky as Klaus finally emerges from his studio, paint staining his hands and clothes. He finds you curled up on the sofa in the library, a book forgotten in your lap as you doze. The sight of you immediately softens his hardened expression

Moving silently across the room, Klaus kneels before you, his hand gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. The movement causes your eyes to flutter open

"I've been a right bastard today, haven't I, love?" His voice is soft, tinged with remorse "I shouldn't have spoken to you that way."

"Mhm, you shouldn't" you mumble, turning around and facing the sofa instead

Klaus lets out a small, frustrated sigh at your dismissive response. He moves to sit on the edge of the sofa, his hand hovering over your shoulder

"Come now, my dear, don't be like that," his British accent lilts with a mixture of guilt and gentle persuasion "I know I was horrible earlier, and you have every right to be cross with me. But I'd rather not have you angry with me all night."

He leans closer, his breath tickling your ear as he whispers "I painted you today, you know. Spent hours trying to capture the exact shade of your eyes. Though I must say, even after a thousand years of practice, I still can't do them justice."

When Y/N remains stubbornly turned away, Klaus's voice takes on a more pleading tone "Y/N, love, look at me. Please?"

The 'please' comes out slightly strained - Klaus Mikaelson isn't used to begging for anything, but for you, he's willing to swallow his pride

You sigh, turning your head slightly, "what?"

Klaus's eyes soften as they meet yours, though your still clearly upset with him. He reaches out to trace his fingers along your jawline, but stops himself, knowing he hasn't earned back that right yet

"I'm sorry," he says, the words coming out with genuine remorse "I let my temper get the best of me, and you didn't deserve to be on the receiving end of it. You were merely trying to brighten my day, as you always do, and I responded like a complete arse."

He runs a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture that betrays his usually confident demeanor

"I know I can be... difficult, love. But you're the last person I ever want to hurt. You're the light in all this darkness, Y/N, and I acted like a fool today."

His voice drops lower, more vulnerable "Tell me what I can do to make it right. I'll do anything"

You turn back to face him, pouting, "I was really excited for you to come home today, Klaus."

Klaus's face falls at your words, genuine guilt washing over his features. He reaches out, this time allowing his fingers to gently brush against your cheek

"I know, my love," his voice is soft, filled with regret "And I ruined it completely, didn't I? You deserve better than to be greeted with my foul mood and sharp tongue."

He shifts closer, his eyes searching yours, "Tell me what you had planned, dear. What was my beautiful girl so excited about?"

His thumb traces your pouting lower lip as you contemplate telling him, a gesture both apologetic and affectionate

"Perhaps it's not too late to salvage what's left of the day? I promise to be on my absolute best behavior," he adds with a slight smirk, though his eyes remain earnest "Though I know that's not saying much"

You smile slightly at his attempt to fix things. you open your mouth to say something but first, your eyes go to the clock in the corner before trailing back to him. Slowly, you shake your head, "nevermind it's too late now." you sit up, "It's okay. Really"

Klaus's expression darkens slightly, not with anger but with self-directed frustration. He knows you well enough to hear the disappointment beneath your words

"No, it's not okay," he says firmly, reaching out to catch your hand before you can fully pull away "And don't do that, love - don't dismiss your feelings to spare mine. I can see it in those beautiful eyes of yours that whatever you had planned meant something to you."

He brings your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles

"Tell me what I ruined, Y/N. Please? Even if it's too late now, I want to know what I missed because of my bloody temper." His blue eyes hold yours intently, filled with both regret and determination

"Fine,” you say in defeat, "since it's Valentine's Day, there was this cute little event where they give you flower pots that you get to paint, and then you get to choose a flower to plant in the pot. I just thought it was the cutest idea ever. Davina showed me the ones she and Kol made, and I was kinda hoping we could too, but...it's fine. Really. no big deal." I lean in and kiss his cheek, "I'm just glad you're feeling better now"

Klaus's face falls completely, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. The realization that he not only ruined your plans but forgot Valentine's Day entirely hits him like a physical blow

"Bloody hell," he mutters, closing his eyes briefly "Valentine's Day. Of course it is."

When he opens his eyes again, they're filled with determination. He stands suddenly, pulling you up with him

"Get your coat, love."

"Klaus, I told you it's fine—"

"It's not fine," he interrupts firmly "I refuse to let Valentine's Day end with my beautiful girl settling for 'fine.' I've been alive for over a thousand years, and if there's one thing I've learned, it's that there's always a way." His signature smirk appears "Even if we have to... persuade someone to reopen the event just for us."

"Klaus..." you say softly as he cups your face in his hands

"You wanted to paint flower pots with me, my dear, and paint flower pots we shall. Even if I have to compel half of New Orleans to make it happen."

His expression softens "Besides, I rather like the idea of creating something with you. Even if it's just a simple flower pot."

You smile, "Klaus, no, you know how much I don't like you compelling people for me." You kiss the inside of his palm, "while it's too late for the event, it's not too late for us to go out and enjoy the night. Let's just go out and do something, yeah?"

Klaus's eyes light up at your suggestion, a fond smile playing on his lips as you kiss his palm. He pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist

"Ever the moral compass, aren't you, love?" he murmurs affectionately "Very well, no compelling tonight. Though I must say, your kindness continues to both baffle and enchant me."

"Yeah? So that's a yes?"

He brushes his lips against your forehead "Allow me fifteen minutes to make myself presentable, and then I'll take you somewhere special. Perhaps we can't paint flower pots, but I refuse to let this day end without properly celebrating it with you."

He steps back, but not before bringing your hand to his lips once more "Wear something warm, dear. And perhaps that necklace I gave you last week? The one that matches your eyes so perfectly?"

Nodding, you lean in to kiss his cheek. Klaus turns his head, meeting your lips, holding you in place as he kisses you deeply. He releases you, letting go as you turn away, flustered.

He watches you leave with a soft expression that's reserved only for you, before quickly pulling out his phone. His fingers move rapidly across the screen as he sends out several messages. If he can't give you the Valentine's Day you originally wanted, he'll make damn sure to give you something even better

Fifteen minutes later, Klaus stands in the courtyard, freshly changed into a dark henley and his signature necklaces. He's holding something behind his back as he waits for you

The sound of heels clicking against the stairs draws his attention upward, and his breath catches slightly at the sight of you. The necklace he gave you gleams against her skin, complementing your natural beauty

"Stunning as always, my love," he says, his accent thick with admiration "Though I must say, you make everything else pale in comparison."

"Thank you. Whatcha got there?"

He reveals what he's been hiding - a bouquet of deep red roses "I know it's not quite the same as planting flowers together, but I hope these might be a start to making up for my earlier behavior."

Your smile widens as you take the flowers from him, "Klaus...you didn't have to. Seriously," but your smile gives you away

Klaus's eyes crinkle with genuine pleasure at your obvious delight, despite her protests

"Oh, but I did, love," he steps closer, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear "If only to see that beautiful smile of yours. Besides," his voice takes on a playful tone "I'm Klaus Mikaelson. When have I ever done anything because I 'had to'?"

You place the bouquet on one of the chairs, making a mental note to put it in a vase when you get back.

Klaus offers his arm to you in a gentlemanly gesture "Now then, shall we? I believe I promised you a special evening, and I intend to deliver."

His eyes sparkle with mischief and something else - a softness that only you get to see "Though I must warn you, love, I may have arranged a few surprises. Nothing involving compulsion, I assure you," he adds quickly with a knowing smirk "Just a few... favors called in."

"Somehow that worries me more," you say, rolling your eyes

Klaus chuckles at your comment, leading you toward the compound's exit

"Now, now, sweetheart. Where's your sense of adventure?" he teases, pressing a kiss to your temple "Trust me, just this once?"

"Always"

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As you walk through the French Quarter, Klaus keeps you entertained with stories of past Valentines throughout history, particularly focusing on the more amusing disasters he'd witnessed. His real goal, however, is to keep you distracted from noticing the subtle movements of people entering and exiting the compound behind you

"You know," he says, guiding you toward Rousseau's "I was actually present for the very first Valentine's Day celebration. However, I must say, it was significantly less romantic than the modern version. Quite a bit more bloodshed involved, actually."

"Every day I am reminded just how old you are," but Klaus was too busy to be offended by your joke

He glances at his phone briefly, checking a message before quickly tucking it away "How about a drink first, love? I hear they've created a special cocktail just for tonight."

You shake your head, "They always seem to have a 'special cocktail, don't they?"

Klaus laughs, a genuine sound that echoes in the night air

"Touché, my dear," he guides you into the bar, his hand resting possessively on your lower back "Though I must say, watching you get tipsy is always an entertaining affair. You become even more delightfully sarcastic, if that's possible."

He pulls out a chair for you at the bar, then takes the seat beside you, keeping you close

"Besides," he leans in, his breath tickling your ear and causing you to squirm, "I rather enjoy how affectionate you become after a few drinks. The way you curl into my side, how your clever little comments become even more brazen..."

You giggle, "I thought after last time, you'd never let me drink again," you tease, bringing up the time Klaus had to carry you out of the bar.

"You're right. Perhaps we should keep it to just one drink tonight," he says with a knowing smirk "I have other plans for us, and I'd like you fully aware to appreciate them."

"Buzzkill" You grumble with a smile before Camille comes to take your drinks

"Hey, Cami!" You say cheerfully, hugging her over the bar.

Klaus tenses slightly at Cami's appearance, his hand instinctively moving to rest on your thigh - a subtle possessive gesture. Despite their friendship, old habits die hard, and Klaus's jealous nature never truly rests

"Ghayda! Klaus!" Cami greets with a knowing smile, catching Klaus's protective gesture "Happy Valentine's Day! What can I get for you two?"

Before you can order, Klaus interjects, "The special for my love here, and bourbon for me." His thumb traces small circles on your thigh as he speaks

Cami gives Klaus a subtle nod - she's clearly in on whatever he's planning - before turning to prepare your drinks

"Buzzkill, am I?" Klaus murmurs in your ear, his accent thickening "I assure you, love, there are many other ways I plan to intoxicate you tonight."

"Yes" you giggle, "buzz kill and apparently corny too." you turn your body on your stool to face him, crossing one leg over the other noting the way his eyes darken slightly. His gaze trailed over your crossed legs before meeting your teasing expression

"Corny?" he raises an eyebrow, leaning closer "I'll have you know, love, I learned from Shakespeare himself. Though," his hand slides slightly higher on your thigh "perhaps you'd prefer me to be less... poetic?"

His voice drops to a whisper that only you can hear "I could tell you exactly what I plan to do to you later instead. In explicit detail. Would that be less corny for you, my dear?"

Cami returns with your drinks, and Klaus reluctantly pulls back, checking his phone once more

"Perfect timing," he mutters under his breath before raising his glass towards you "To my beautiful girl, who somehow manages to both humble and embolden me with every passing day."

You raise your own with a smile. Sipping your drink, "You know, I didn't expect you to care about Valentine's Day. Though you'd experienced too many of them."

Klaus watches you over the rim of his glass, a thoughtful expression crossing his face

"You're right, love. I've seen countless Valentine's Days come and go," his free hand finds yours, fingers intertwining "But I've never had one worth celebrating before you."

He takes another sip of his bourbon, eyes never leaving yours. "A thousand years of existence, and yet somehow, you make everything feel new again. Even these ridiculous human traditions."

"Ridiculous? That's why you're trying too hard to make it up to me?"

His phone buzzes again, and a satisfied smirk crosses his face.

"Speaking of making it up," he stands, offering his hand "I believe it's time for us to move on to the next part of our evening. Unless," his smirk widens "you'd rather stay here and listen to more of my 'corny' declarations?"

You down your drink, "No, wait, I love this song." You take his hand and stand up, "Dance with me?"

Klaus's expression softens, though there's a flicker of impatience in his eyes as he checks the time. However, one look at your hopeful expression melts any resistance

"How could I possibly deny you anything when you look at me like that?" he pulls you close, one hand settling on your waist while the other holds yours. 

As you sway to the music, Klaus can't help but lean down to whisper into your ear, "You're making it incredibly difficult to stick to my carefully laid plans, darling. But then again," his grip tightens slightly, "you've always had a way of making me lose control of everything I thought I had perfectly arranged."

"Arranged? I thought you'd forgotten?" you tease, swaying along to the music

He spins you once, pulling your back against his chest "I did forget, initially," he admits, pressing a soft kiss to your neck "But did you really think I'd let my oversight stand? I am nothing if not resourceful, love. And the past hour has been... productive."

He spins you again, this time bringing you face-to-face with him

"Besides," his eyes gleam with mischief "I have a reputation to maintain. Can't have people thinking Klaus Mikaelson can't give his girl a proper Valentine's Day, now can we?"

His phone buzzes yet again, and this time he actually growls slightly in frustration

"What's wrong?"

"As much as I'm enjoying having you in my arms, sweetheart, we really should be going."

"See? Told you you're a buzzkill," You tease but reluctantly step back, "okay, let's go"

Klaus narrows his eyes playfully at your teasing, suddenly pulling you back flush against him

"A buzzkill, am I?" his voice drops to that dangerous, seductive tone that he knows affects you "We'll see if you still think that in about..." he checks his watch. "Twenty minutes."

He leaves an impressive tip, guiding you out of Rousseau's, his hand never leaving your waist. As you walk back toward the compound, Klaus seems increasingly antsy, checking his phone repeatedly

"Close your eyes, love," he instructs as you approach the compound's entrance

When you hesitate, he adds with a smirk, "Come now, love. Humor your 'buzzkill' of a boyfriend. I promise it'll be worth it."

"Okay, okay," you say with a smile before closing your eyes, grabbing his arm for stability, "last time someone told me to close my eyes, a snake was placed on me."

Klaus tenses at the mention of Kol's prank, a flash of anger crossing his features

"Ah yes, I remember. Kol spent the next week daggered for that little stunt," his voice carries a dangerous edge before softening as he guides you carefully "I assure you, love, no reptiles await you this time. Though perhaps I should dagger him again, just for good measure..."

He leads you through the courtyard, positioning you exactly where he wants you

"Keep those beautiful eyes closed for just a moment longer, love," his voice is soft with anticipation "And no peeking. I know how curious you get."

There's a rustle of movement around you, and the sound of several people quietly exiting

"Alright, my love," his hands rest on your shoulders from behind, his breath warm against your ear "Open them."

You gasp as you see the sight before you, "What the... Klaus" You whisper, "What's all this?" You ask, a grin slowly creeping its way onto your face as you turn to him

The courtyard has been transformed. Hundreds of twinkling lights hang from above, creating a starlit effect. Dozens of flower pots of various sizes are arranged on tables, already prepped for painting, with an array of paints and brushes laid out. In the center sits an elegant table set for two, complete with champagne and covered dishes. Rose petals are scattered everywhere, and soft music plays in the background.

Klaus's expression softens completely at your reaction, a rare genuine smile gracing his features

"This, my love," he cups your face gently "is me trying to give you both the evening you planned and the one you deserve. You wanted to paint flower pots? Well, now we have an entire collection to decorate. Though I must admit," he gestures to the romantic setting "I may have added a few touches of my own."

"Klaus," you say his name so softly, leaning into his touch

He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his eyes searching yours

"I know I ruined your original plans with my temper, but I hoped perhaps..." he trails off, showing a rare moment of uncertainty "Well, I hoped this might make up for it. Even the great Klaus Mikaelson can admit when he's been an absolute fool."

He pulls you closer, pressing his forehead against yours "Happy Valentine's Day, my beautiful girl."

"Happy Valentine's Day." You wrap your arms around his neck, "I love you, Klaus"

Klaus's breath catches slightly at your words - even after all this time, hearing you say 'I love you' affects him deeply. His arms tighten around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer

"And I love you, Y/N," his voice is thick with emotion, "More than I ever thought possible. More than I probably should."

He pulls back slightly to look into your eyes, one hand coming up to trace your cheek

"You know," his signature smirk returns, though his eyes remain soft "I had this whole evening perfectly planned out - dinner first, then painting, then dancing under the lights. But seeing you look at me like that..." he leans in, his lips barely brushing yours "makes me want to skip straight to dessert."

You tilt your head back, giggling, "Absolutely not." You poke a finger into his chest, "You went through quite a bit of trouble arranging all this, so perhaps we should at least attempt to follow the schedule?"

You pull his hand excitedly, "let's go!"

Klaus chuckles at your enthusiasm, allowing you to pull him along

"Eager to paint, are we?" he guides you to the table with the flower pots, pulls out a chair for you, and then sits beside you, immediately reaching for your hand

"Choose your pot, darling. Though," his eyes glint mischievously "I should mention that whatever we create tonight will be displayed prominently in the compound. I've already informed my siblings they're not allowed to mock our artistic endeavors, on pain of daggering."

He leans closer, his breath tickling your ear "And yes, before you scold me, I know that's a bit extreme. But I refuse to let anyone diminish something you put your heart into."

You roll your eyes, "Stop including yourself. You know I'm the only one here with shitty artistic abilities" You nudge his shoulder with yours before tying your hair back, "Can we eat while we paint?" you ask, eager to start.

Klaus's eyes follow the movement of your neck as you tie your hair back, momentarily distracted

"Of course, love," he recovers, reaching to uncover the dishes "Though I must disagree about your artistic abilities. Everything you do has its own charm." He smirks "Even if it's not quite up to my thousand years of experience."

He pours you each a glass of champagne, then watches as you select your pot

"Besides," he continues, selecting his own pot "I rather enjoy watching you concentrate. The way you bite your lip when you're focused, how your nose scrunches up when you're not satisfied with something..." he reaches over to tap your nose playfully "It's utterly adorable."

He picks up a brush, dipping it in paint "Now then, shall we see what masterpieces we can create while trying not to spill food on them?"

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The evening unfolds beautifully, with Klaus and You painting flower pots between bites of gourmet food and sips of champagne. Klaus can't help but steal glances at you throughout the night, enchanted by your concentrated expression and delighted giggles when the paint goes astray. Despite his initial temper earlier in the day, the night transforms into something magical

You both end up with two distinctly different pots - Klaus's displaying intricate designs and professional technique, while yours shows...heartfelt effort and creativity. True to his word, Klaus ensures both are given places of honor in the compound

You looked at Klaus's perfect pot, furrowing your brows. You tilted your head as you looked at my own pot, "Klaus. Be honest. Are my lines wonky?”

Klaus bites his lip, trying desperately to maintain a straight face as he looks at your adorably uneven creation

"Well, love..." he starts diplomatically, wrapping an arm around your waist "I would say they're not so much 'wonky' as they are...uniquely positioned. Besides," he presses a kiss to your temple "straight lines are overrated. Yours has character."

"that's a yes" you groan, running a hand down your face

Klaus can't quite contain his amused smile as you continue to scrutinize your work with such serious concentration

"Though I must say," he murmurs in your ear "watching you furrow your brows like that is making it incredibly difficult to focus on pottery critiques. Perhaps we should move on to the next part of the evening?"

His hand slides lower on your waist "Unless you'd like to continue analyzing your artistic technique, of course."

“Mmm, I'm not done. Give me your hand” I say, putting my own hand out, “palm up”

Klaus raises an eyebrow, intrigued by your request. He places his hand in yours, palm up

"Should I be concerned, love?" he asks with amusement, watching you carefully "The last time someone asked for my hand like this, they were attempting to curse me. Though," his eyes sparkle with mischief, "I doubt your intentions are quite so nefarious."

Klaus is unable to hide his fond smile at how serious she looks

"Shh, don't distract me," you say, taking a brush and painting all over his palm, “just wait”

Klaus watches with uncharacteristic patience, fighting the urge to move as the cool paint tickles his palm. His gaze remained on your face, eyes softening as he watched you concentrate, resisting the urge to curl his fingers, letting you continue her mysterious artwork 

"Should I be preparing myself for a masterpiece or another one of your... uniquely positioned designs, love?"

“You talk too much” you mumble, placing the brush down. You do the same on your own palm but with a different color.

“Okay, place your hand right here” You point to a spot on your pot

Klaus follows your instruction, pressing his painted palm against her pot where indicated, a curious smile playing on his lips

"As you command, my dear," he says softly. As he takes his hand off, you place yours, slightly overlapping his.

When both hands were pulled away, two handprints appear on the pot - one larger, one smaller, creating a surprisingly sweet design

"Ah," Klaus's expression softens completely, understanding dawning in his eyes "Now that, love, is actually rather clever."

"is it?" you ask hopefully with a smile

He looks at your combined handprints, something warm settling in his chest at the sight of your marks together

"It is. Perhaps I was too quick to judge your artistic abilities," he murmurs, pulling you closer with his clean hand "This might be my favorite piece of art in the entire compound."

“Aha!” you point a painted finger at him, “so you were judging my abilities”

Klaus's eyes widen slightly at being caught, before a mischievous grin spreads across his face

"Well, love," he catches your painted finger in his hand "In my defense, your earlier attempts at straight lines were rather..." he pauses, searching for a diplomatic word "distinctive."

Before you can protest, he pulls you closer, deliberately getting paint on you dress

"Though I must say," his voice drops to that seductive tone "watching you catch me in a lie is incredibly attractive. Perhaps I should let you win more often?"

He brings your painted finger to his lips, pressing a kiss to it "Then again, where would be the fun in that?"

As revenge, you press your hand into his shirt, fighting back a giggle.

Klaus's eyes darken playfully as he looks down at the handprint now decorating his henley

"Now that," his voice drops dangerously low "was a declaration of war, my dear."

In one swift movement, he grabs a paintbrush, a predatory gleam in his eyes

"You seem to have forgotten, love, that I'm quite skilled with a brush," he stalks toward you as you back away "And I have centuries of experience in hunting down my prey."

His smirk widens as he corners you against a pillar "Any last words before I exact my revenge?"

“Maybe that…you love me? Try remembering that. and that I love you....so much,” you say, eyes on the brush

Klaus's predatory expression falters for a moment, softening at her words before his signature smirk returns

"Oh, I do love you, my dear," he presses closer "Which is precisely why I know you'll forgive me for this..."

In one quick movement, he swipes the paintbrush across your cheek, leaving a streak of color

"Klaus!"

"There," he murmurs, admiring his handiwork "Now you truly are a work of art."

His free hand comes up to cup your other cheek "Though I must say, you're still the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, even covered in paint."

He leans in closer, his lips barely brushing yours "Perhaps I should add a few more touches? Make you a proper masterpiece?"

“Yeah? Watch this” you whisper before turning your head and smudging your cheeks together, transferring the paint.

Klaus freezes for a split second as your cheeks press together, the cool paint smearing across his skin. A deep, rumbling laugh escapes him—a rare, unfiltered sound of pure amusement that echoes through the courtyard. His hands grip your waist, pulling you flush against him despite the mess

 "Cheeky little minx, aren't you?" He tilts his head, admiring the matching paint streaks now on both your faces "I should’ve known you’d find a way to weaponize affection. Quite the strategic move, love."

His thumb brushes over the paint on your cheek, smudging it further as his gaze softens "Though I must admit, you wear chaos spectacularly. It’s almost a shame to wash this off."

Before she can respond, he dashes to the paint, dipping his fingers and swirling them dramatically "But if we’re making masterpieces..." he flashes back, dragging a streak of gold down your neck, following the curve of your collarbone with deliberate slowness, earning a gasp "...let’s commit to the theme, shall we?"

"Won't things get...messy?

His laughter fades into a heated whisper as his lips hover near yours "Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll clean every brushstroke off you later... thoroughly."

The courtyard erupts into playful chaos as paint begins flying everywhere. Your laughter echoes through the compound as you chase each other, leaving colorful handprints and streaks on clothes, skin, and occasionally the walls. Klaus, despite his usual composed demeanor, finds himself completely caught up in the childish fun, his clothes, and skin now a canvas of multiple colors

The romantic dinner and careful decorations become collateral damage in the paint war, but neither seems to care. At some point, Kol appears at the balcony to investigate the commotion, only to quickly retreat when Klaus threatens him with a paint-covered brush

The evening ends with both of them...well, you, breathless from laughter, covered head to toe in various colors of paint. The courtyard looks like an abstract expressionist painting exploded, both of your flower pots forgotten amidst the beautiful disaster you've created

Klaus pulls you close, both of you a mess, and whispers against your lips "Perhaps we should continue this in the shower, love?"

“Is that you admitting defeat?"

Klaus's eyes narrow playfully, his painted fingers tightening on your waist

"Klaus Mikaelson never admits defeat, love," he growls softly against your ear "I'm merely suggesting we move this battle to a more... private venue.

He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper "Unless you'd prefer to continue our war here? Though I should warn you, darling, my next tactics might not be suitable for public viewing."

You swat his shoulder, "1...2...3...race you!" you yell, running to the stairs. Absolutely futile but completely fun

"Oh, love," he calls out, letting you get a head start just to make it interesting "Racing a vampire? Particularly one as old as me? That's rather bold of you."

He vamp-speeds up the stairs, appearing in front of you with a triumphant smirk, causing her to scream

"Though I must admit," he catches you as you crash into his chest "watching you try is absolutely adorable."

He lifts her you, throwing you over his shoulder, "Klaus!" you scream, unable to stop laughing

"Now then," his eyes darken with desire as he pats your thighs, "shall we discuss the terms of your surrender? Or would you prefer another futile attempt at escape?"

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The evening winds down peacefully, with Klaus and Y/N cleaning up and changing into fresh clothes. They spend the rest of the night curled up together in their room, Klaus sketching while Y/N reads, occasionally exchanging soft kisses and quiet conversations

Their painted flower pots dry on the balcony, including their special handprint creation which Klaus insists will have a permanent place in their room. Despite the chaos and the mess, the Valentine's Day that started roughly ends perfectly - just the two of them, content in each other's company

As Y/N drifts off to sleep in his arms, Klaus watches her with tender affection, thinking about how a thousand years of existence led him to this moment, with this remarkable woman who changed everything for him

The courtyard’s chaos remains untouched come morning. Rebekah scoffs at the mess, Kol places bets on how long until they’re at each other’s throats again, and Elijah quietly orders a cleaning crew. But in your room, Klaus sleeps—actually sleeps—your hand fisted in his still-damp curls. Victory, he’d learn, tastes sweeter in surrender.

The compound may be a mess of paint, but Klaus wouldn't change a single moment of their evening together.

𐙚⋆˙˚◞♡ ✮⋆˙ ₊˚⊹♡ : ̗̀ 𐙚⋆˙˚◞♡ ✮⋆˙ ₊˚⊹♡ : ̗̀ 𐙚⋆˙˚◞♡ ✮⋆˙ ₊˚⊹♡ : ̗̀ 𐙚

Taglist: @ariesandwolves

[multiple-fandomimagines]

~Requests♡~

{<- masterlist}

18+

Smut ~ Violence ~ Fluff ~ Angst

Birthday Lessons {5k} ♡♡ {Elijah x Kol x Reader} --- On your birthday night at Rousseau's, tension fills the air as Kol and Elijah compete for your attention, promising a celebration like no other.

Je t'aime, Je t'adore {3k} ♡♡ --- You and Elijah are enjoying your honeymoon in the south of France, doing what newlyweds do best.

Dinner can wait {2k} ♡ --- Elijah is nervous about you returning home after a trip, so he cooks dinner to calm himself.

Cold Truth {5k} ♡♡ --- You and Klaus are on a mission to turn Elijah's humanity switch back on. The only problem is that you are the reason he turned it off in the first place.

Gentle {3k} ♡♡ --- As movie night with Elijah gets heated, you voice your insecurities and he dispels your fears.

Eyes for you {4k} ♡♡♡ --- Amidst the clinking of glasses and strained smiles, you find yourself feeling jealous of the way Hayley is interacting with your husband... Until he shows you exactly why you shouldn't be feeling that way.

Elijah's Love Letters {2.5k} ♡ --- NSFW Alphabet

Klaus's Love Letters {3k} ♡ --- NSFW Alphabet

Always {3k} ♡♡♡ --- Upon your unexpected appearance at the compound, centuries after being presumed dead, Elijah has to grapple with feelings he long buried and the consequences that come with it.

Between Pages {5k} ♡ --- It's the 1960s, and you are a college student finding solace in the campus library. There, you encounter more than knowledge within its walls.

What did you wish for? {2k} ♡♡ --- On your birthday, Elijah and Rebekah find themselves at odds when it comes to organizing the party.

Tied {2.7k} ♡ --- After days apart, you've crafted the perfect surprise for Elijah to welcome him home.

Reminder {4.5k} ♡♡♡ --- Your relationship with Elijah feels like its unravelling with the arrival of Hayley and a cutting nickname from Klaus. Fortunately, Elijah knows just what to do to make you feel loved.

Strings {6.2k} ♡♡♡ --- You've denied what your heart wants for so long and Elijah is tired of waiting.

Whine {5k} ♡♡ --- You make the mistake of testing Elijah's patience and he puts you in your place.

Devotion {7.7k} ♡♡ --- When you find out you are pregnant you are afraid of how Elijah will react. His anxieties around fatherhood get the best of him and he gives in to his darker impulses.

Crush {6.7k} ♡♡♡ --- You have quite the crush on Rebekah's big brother, and you find yourself lost in the tangled web of unreciprocated feelings, yearning for a love that may never be yours.

Forgiveness {5.5k} ♡♡♡ --- After a tragic event you flip your humanity switch and begin to terrorize the Quarter. You have to be put down for the good of the city, but your husband will stop at nothing to save you.

Stubborn {4.1k} ♡♡ --- You and Elijah get into a fight about his protective nature. He thinks you are too stubborn, and you think he's too controlling. How will you resolve your issues?

Ménage à Quatre {5.3k} ♡ {Elijah x Klaus x Rebekah x Reader} --- Just a quick little ménage à quatre with Rebekah & the boys...

Change {5.8k} ♡♡♡ --- Your marriage causes you to feel trapped and worthless. Until you meet a handsome stranger at a café and he shows you how much more you can be.

Touch {5.6k} ♡♡♡ --- After a dinner party with the Mikaelson family, you try to get Elijah to open up his heart to you.

Teach You {3.6k} ♡♡ --- You are nervous about your first time with Elijah and he makes it an unforgettable experience.

Perfect {2.8k} {he/him pronouns} ♡♡ --- After a date with Elijah, you want to take things to the next level and he makes you feel like the only boy in the world.

Piano Lessons {2.4k} ♡ --- You come home after a long day at work and Elijah helps you unwind with a song.

Misbehavior {8.2k} ♡♡♡♡ --- Elijah Mikaelson is controlling, arrogant and absolutely infuriating, you don't know how anybody can stand him. That is... until he gets you in his bed.

Fantasies {4.8k} ♡ --- You get Elijah to open up about his desires and he discovers a few of yours, leading to a night of fun and exploration.

Worth the wait {7.1k} ♡♡♡ --- You and Elijah are childhood friends, dipping in and out of each others lives for the past one thousand years. You hope that one day you will have a chance to be together and find the love you've always longed for.

Magnificent {8.8k} ♡ {Elijah x Klaus x Kol x Reader} --- Just a quick little ménage à quatre with Elijah, Kol and Klaus... on spring break...

Hold {4.9k} ♡♡ --- You are having drinks with Elijah and you want to tell him about your little problem, in hopes that he will help you with it.

Paperwork {5k} ♡♡ --- You approach a handsome philanthropist at a charity gala, leading to a stress-relieving meeting high above the city lights.

Princess {5.1k} ♡ --- You and Elijah have a night of kinky fun.

Safe {8.2k} ♡♡♡♡ --- In a world where trust is hard to come by, you've learned to keep your guard up, especially around men. But when Elijah enters your life, he's determined to break through your defenses, venturing into a realm of passion, pain, and the search for something real.

Madness {6.4k} ♡♡ --- You bring a date to the Mikaelson party, specifically to attract the attention of your estranged husband. The plan backfires; he's not the type to let you go so easily and makes sure to remind you that no one will ever take his place.

Soft {3.4k} ♡♡ --- You've been dating Elijah for a while, but your insecurities keep you from taking things further. But one night, Elijah finally gets the chance to show you how much he loves your curves.

Forever {6.8k} ♡♡♡ --- Elijah loves you with all his heart, but his commitment to his family and his loyalty to Klaus keeps him from acting on his feelings. But when he almost loses you, he is determined to prove that you are the only woman he has ever truly loved, and wants to make you his, forever.

Three Lessons {6.2k} ♡ --- Elijah finds you in transition and teaches you a few lessons on how to be a vampire.

Control {6k} ♡♡♡ --- Plagued by nightmares of hurting you, Elijah avoids any form of intimacy, but you have had enough. You confront him about his rejection and Elijah finally learns how to let go and lose control.

Wishes {3.1k} {Haylijah} ♡♡♡ --- A smutty extended version of haylijah's first time together.

Respect {2.9k} {Delijah} ♡ --- Elijah puts Damon in his place, and demands he show him a little more than respect.

Cat and Mouse {5.3k} ♡ --- It's your anniversary party, but you are terribly bored, and the one person you actually want to be around isn't playing fair.

Decadence {5.9k} ♡ --- Elijah meets an intriguing woman at the opera, leading to an evening of music, wine and vampiric indulgences.

Bindings {4.9k} ♡ --- You ask Davina for help with creating something to tie up Elijah... only for you to get in way over your head. Luckily, he is in a forgiving mood.

Family Man {4.5k} ♡♡ --- Life at the compound can be chaotic with kids and family running around, but Elijah wouldn't have it any other way.

Gratitude {4.7k} ♡♡ --- It's a warm summer night and Elijah plans a special date for you, hoping to make your dreams come true.

Something Sweet {5.5k} ♡♡ --- It's the day of your wedding, a day you've dreamed about since you were young. Everything is exactly as you imagined it would be, except one thing. Today is not only the day of your wedding, today is also the day you die... And you never wanted anything so badly.

Perfect Messes {5.6k} ♡♡♡ --- After a difficult relationship that left you struggling to rebuild your life, you reconnect with an old friend who helps you rediscover what true love feels like.

Bloodier Bath {2.7k} ♡♡ --- Aunt Flo comes to visit and the noble Elijah once again stands up to the bitch.

Insatiable {3.9k} ♡ --- You are at the club with the Mikaelsons, and your husband Elijah gets a little jealous when someone else hits on you.

Ice Cream and Love Bites {8.2k} ♡♡ --- You are at a playground with your son when you meet Elijah. He is everything you are looking for in a partner, but his life is shrouded in mystery. Can you trust him with your heart?

Please Sir {4.2k} ♡ --- You meet Elijah on a dating app, needing his help to fulfill a fantasy, and he is happy to oblige.

Following Orders {2.7k} ♡ --- You decide to reverse the roles for a day, tying Elijah up and having your way with him...

Springs {2.7k} ♡ {Viking!Elijah} --- You meet your secret lover deep in the woods, and take him to your favorite spot to spend some time together.

Captive {7.1k} ♡♡♡♡ {Elijah x Klaus x Vampire!Reader} --- You are being held captive by a group of nasty witches, being tortured, starved of blood and interrogated night and day... You've lost all hope, until two old enemies show up to save you, and you spend the evening reminiscing and making up for lost time.

Solstice {9k} ♡♡ {Viking!Elijah} --- In a small Viking village, love blooms as Elijah steals your heart. But a winter storm prevents your future plans, forcing secrets to surface and your bond to grow stronger than ever.

Belonging {8.8k} ♡♡♡♡ --- You needed a roommate, and he needed a place to belong...but as secrets unravel and his dark past comes to light, your new housemate might just change your life forever..

Yearning {9k} ♡♡ --- Hired by Rebekah to paint her family’s portrait, you find yourself irresistibly drawn to her eldest brother, Elijah. But with a husband bound by ambition and society’s stifling expectations, surrendering to forbidden desire could change your life forever...

Cedar {3.6k} ♡♡ --- What begins as a night of unrestrained passion shifts when Elijah takes things too far, and he makes sure to show you just how deeply he cares for you in the aftermath...

Adore {3.5k} ♡ --- When Elijah catches you lost in a steamy novel, he’s determined to turn fiction into reality...

Inevitable {6.9k} ♡♡ --- A playful night of banter leads to Elijah's siblings setting him up on a dating app, but the only match he wants is you...

Chaos {7.8k} ♡♡♡ --- A punk-themed night out with the Mikaelsons reveals a side of Elijah you’ve never seen before... and a chance to push boundaries neither of you ever expected.

Anchor {672 wrds} ♡ --- Grief threatens to overwhelm you, but Elijah's calming presence becomes your anchor, reminding you that even in your darkest hours, you are not alone.

Snow Day {6.2k} ♡♡ --- A rare snowstorm blankets New Orleans, and the Mikaelsons revel in the icy chaos. But as Klaus pushes Elijah to confront his feelings for you, the heat between you two threatens to outshine the storm.

[multiple-fandomimagines]

WRECKED

Pairing: Jason Todd x Female Reader

Words: 9k

Plot: It's your first time with Jason. You thought you knew what to expect—until he ruined you. (yep, I'm officially a whore, and my old crushes are coming back lmao)

CW: established relationship, 18+, smut, oral sex, overstimulation, praise, creampie, aftercare

It starts the second you're outside the bar. Jason's hand finds your waist, pulling you close like he can't bear the space between you any longer. His lips crash against yours—hungry, rough, possessive. You gasp into his mouth, and he takes full advantage, tongue sliding against yours as he walks you backward toward his bike.

You don't make it far. His hand—big, calloused—cups the back of your neck, holding you in place as he devours you. His other hand grips your ass, fingers digging in like he owns you already. He groans when you grind into him, hips meeting yours with a delicious friction that has you whining.

"Fuck," he mutters against your lips. "Can't wait to get you home."

The ride to his apartment is a blur—his hand on your thigh, thumb stroking slow circles that make your pussy throb. The second you're inside, the door slams shut, and he's on you. His mouth finds yours again, teeth scraping your bottom lip before he bites just enough to make you moan. His hands slide under your thighs, and—fuck—he lifts you like you weigh nothing, pinning you against the door.

You gasp, legs wrapping around his waist, feeling how hard he is through his jeans. He rolls his hips, grinding against you, and you whimper, clutching at his jacket.

"Jesus, listen to you," he growls, lips trailing to your jaw, then your neck.

His teeth scrape over your pulse before he sucks a bruise there, and your head thumps against the door. His big hands squeeze your ass, lifting and dropping you just enough to rub you against the bulge in his pants.

"Jason," you gasp, hips moving on instinct.

"Yeah, baby? Feels good?"

His voice is low, rough like gravel, and you can feel the smirk against your skin. He carries you to the bedroom effortlessly, tossing you onto the mattress with a grin. You barely catch your breath before he's climbing over you, tossing his jacket, kissing you like he's starving.

"You're so fuckin' pretty," he murmurs, fingers working at your clothes. "Bet you taste even better."

Your shirt goes next, then your bra, and shit, the way his eyes darken has heat flooding your cheeks. His palms—warm, rough—cup your tits, thumbs brushing over your nipples. You arch into him, moaning when his mouth replaces his hands, tongue flicking before he sucks one into his mouth. His other hand kneads your other breast, squeezing just enough to make you gasp.

"You like that, baby?" His voice is a growl against your skin. "So sensitive... fuck, I could play with these all night."

He trails kisses lower, teeth grazing your stomach, and your breath hitches. His fingers hook into your waistband, dragging your pants and panties down slow. His gaze never leaves yours—hungry, possessive.

"Fuckin' gorgeous," he mutters, spreading your legs. "Look at this pretty pussy."

"Jay," you whimper, hips lifting.

"I've got you," he promises, voice thick. "Gonna make you feel so fuckin' good, baby."

Then fuck, his mouth is on you. His tongue drags through your folds, slow and filthy, making your back arch off the bed. He groans against you like you're his favorite meal, licking you like he can't get enough. His tongue flicks over your clit—soft at first, then harder when you moan—and you feel the smirk against you.

"Goddamn, you taste good," he mutters, voice rough.

His tongue dips lower, fucking into you, and you sob, fingers tangling in his hair. He sucks your clit, tongue flicking just right, and your hips grind against his face, chasing the heat coiling in your belly.

"That's it, baby. Take what you need," he growls, tongue relentless.

Your legs shake, toes curling as the pleasure builds, sharp and hot. His hands—huge, strong—hold your thighs open, keeping you right where he wants you. You moan his name, voice wrecked, and he groans against you, the vibrations shooting straight through you.

"Fuck, Jason—"

You're close, teetering on the edge—your whole body strung tight, nerves buzzing—when one thick finger pushes in. It's slow, intentional, stretching you inch by inch. Your breath catches, walls fluttering around him, so full from just his finger.

"Fuck," Jason groans, voice rough. "God, you're tight."

His eyes—dark, blown wide with lust—stay on yours, drinking in every twitch, every gasp that slips from your lips. His free hand holds your thigh open, firm but gentle, like he wants you spread just for him.

Then—without warning—he adds a second finger. The stretch is intense, burning in that delicious way that has your back arching, hips tilting to take him deeper.

"Easy," he murmurs, soft, despite how wrecked he looks. "Gotta stretch this pretty little pussy out for me, baby. Can't have you strugglin' with my dick."

God. Your cheeks burn, heat flooding through you at his words, pussy clenching tight around his fingers. He feels it, and the groan that rumbles from his chest is obscene.

"You like that?"

His grin is crooked, cocky. His fingers curl—fuck—pressing right against that perfect spot inside you. Your mouth falls open, a strangled moan ripping from your throat as your hips jerk.

"There," he breathes, eyes locked on your face. "Right there, huh?"

His pace picks up—slow but deep, fingers fucking into you like he's got all the time in the world. He twists them just right, dragging along your walls with a rhythm that has your thighs trembling. The wet sounds echo in the room, filthy and soaked, each thrust squelching louder as your arousal drips down to his palm.

"Jesus, baby," Jason groans, gaze dropping to where his fingers disappear into you. "Look at this pussy—so fuckin' wet for me. I haven't even fucked you yet, and you're already drippin'."

Your head falls back, heat swirling in your belly, pleasure winding tight. His thumb finds your clit, rubbing slow, precise circles that make your vision blur.

"That's it," he murmurs, lips brushing your thigh as he presses kisses between filthy praise. "Take it, baby. Just like that... fuck, you're squeezin' my fingers so good."

He leans down again, tongue flicking over your clit, and you cry out, hips jerking. The combination—his fingers curling deep, tongue working your sensitive bundle of nerves—has you unraveling fast.

"Jay—fuck—I—I'm gonna—"

"I know, baby," he growls against your pussy, voice wrecked. "Cum for me. C'mon, lemme feel you soak my fingers."

And fuck, you do. The coil snaps—white-hot and all-consuming—as you cum hard, walls clenching around his fingers. Your whole body shudders, pleasure crashing over you in waves. You sob his name, hips rocking through it, chasing every last spark.

Jason keeps going, drawing it out, his fingers fucking into you through your orgasm. Your slick coats his hand, dripping onto the sheets, and the sounds—messy, obscene—only make the high hit harder.

"Goddamn," he mutters, watching you with a look that's part worship, part starving. "Look at you. So fuckin' pretty when you cum. Feels so good around my fingers... can't wait to feel you around my dick."

You're panting, body wrecked—but his mouth finds you again, fingers slipping out of you, and he's licking you clean, tongue dragging through your folds, tasting every drop you've given him. You whimper, overstimulated—but he groans, sucking your clit just to hear you whine.

"You can give me another one, baby," he murmurs against you, voice dangerous. "Haven't even started yet."

Your orgasm barely fades before Jason's mouth is back on you, tongue dragging a slow, wet stripe through your folds. Your hips jerk, thighs trembling from the overstimulation, but his hands—big and firm—press your legs open, keeping you spread wide for him.

"Jay—" you whimper, trying to close up, overwhelmed, but his grip tightens.

"Uh-uh, baby," he murmurs against your soaked cunt, voice rough and dark. "Told you, I'm not done. Not 'til I taste everything you've got for me."

Fuck. Heat swirls in your belly, a mess of pleasure and desperation, nerves alight. You try to squirm, try to close your legs again—but it's useless. His arms are strong, holding you open like you're nothing to him—just something to devour.

And God, the way he eats you out...

His tongue moves slow, deliberate, fucking into you with wet, obscene strokes that make your head spin. It's messy, his spit mixing with your slick, dripping down to the sheets below. Every flick, every press of his tongue is precise, like he's studied your body—like he knows exactly how to pull those sounds from you.

Your back arches, hips trying to ride his face, and he groans, the vibration shooting through you. His hands grip your thighs, thumbs pressing bruising marks into your skin as he guides you over his mouth.

"You taste so fuckin' good," he mutters, pulling back just enough to breathe you in, his lips slick with your arousal. His eyes—dark, pupils blown—drag up your body, gaze heated. "Could eat this pussy all night."

Your mind reels. No one's ever eaten you like this before, ever. The guys you dated? Please. They'd barely been able to find your clit, let alone worship you like this, like you're the best thing Jason's ever had in his mouth. And God, the way he looks at you—like you're his. Like he lives for the way you moan, the way you fall apart under his tongue.

"Jay," you gasp, fingers threading through his hair, tugging—but he just laughs, deep and hungry.

"You can pull all you want, baby," he grins against you, fucking into you with his tongue again. "Not lettin' you go 'til you cum on my face."

His tongue fucks into you deep, and fuck— your legs shake, your whole body strung tight. Pleasure coils low in your belly, building fast, dizzying. Jason knows. Of course he does. His gaze stays locked on your face, watching every gasp, every shudder. Loving how you fall apart for him.

"That's it, baby," he murmurs, lips dragging over your clit before he sucks—hard, perfect. "Give it to me. I wanna feel you cum again, wanna taste it."

And fuck, you do.

The second orgasm hits hard, ripping through you with white-hot intensity. Your thighs clamp around his head—but he doesn't stop, hands holding you open as he devours you through it. Pleasure crashes over you in waves, your body writhing, sobbing his name.

So good—too good.

Jason groans like he can't get enough, tongue dragging through your soaked folds, drinking down everything you give him. In his head, it's a mess of thoughts—she's so fuckin' beautiful, so tight and wet and perfect. Could spend hours between her legs, make her cum until she's cryin'— mine.

When you finally go limp, chest heaving, body wrecked, he pulls back with a filthy grin. His lips, chin—soaked. His eyes burn into you, warm and starving.

"Fuck," he breathes, kissing your inner thigh. "So good for me."

Your chest heaves, vision hazy as you blink down at him. His mouth is slick with you, lips curled into that cocky grin—but his eyes are soft, like you're the only thing that matters.

Then he moves up, muscles shifting beneath flushed skin, body radiating heat. His hand comes up, fingers threading into your hair, cupping the top of your head just right. The touch sends a shiver down your spine—gentle, but possessive. He tilts your face toward him, gaze flicking from your eyes to your lips, and then he kisses you. God.

It's messy, hot and filthy, your mouths sliding together. His lips are soft but urgent, tongue pressing past yours like he needs you. You can taste yourself on him, thick and salty, spreading across your tongue—fuck. Your fingers clutch his shoulders, nails digging into hard muscle as you suck on his tongue, drawing a deep, hungry groan from his chest.

He presses closer, crowding you against the bed, hand tightening in your hair. The kiss turns sloppy, wet noises filling the space between gasps and moans. His lips drag over yours, breathing you in, swallowing the soft whimpers you can't hold back.

Then, he pulls back. Barely. Just enough to look at you. His gaze roams over your face—flushed, lips swollen and slick from him—ruined. His thumb brushes your rosy cheek, tender amidst the heat.

"You're so fuckin' beautiful, baby," he murmurs, voice thick with something soft, something real. His eyes catch yours—burning, sincere. "Don't be shy."

Heat rushes to your cheeks. Fuck. You blush, lips parting to speak but words fail you. All you can do is nod, heart pounding.

And then you pull him back in.

Another kiss—this one deeper, needier, tongues tangling like you can't get enough. Because you can't. Not with the way he holds you, not with the way he tastes, not with the way his body presses into yours like you belong there, like this is where you've always belonged. And God, maybe you do.

Your hands are all over him—fingers dragging across heated skin, nails scraping over the hard planes of his back as you kiss like you'll die without it. It's frantic, messy, lips sliding, teeth clashing, tongues greedy. His hands are everywhere—gripping, squeezing, grinding you against him until you can feel how hard he is through his jeans, thick and aching.

Somehow, between kisses that leave you breathless, you fumble with his shirt, tugging it up. Jason breaks away just long enough to yank it off, tossing it aside—fuck.

God, he's all muscle. Broad chest, pecs firm, shoulders so wide they make you feel small. His abs are cut, ridges begging to be traced, and fuck, you do—running your hands down his stomach as he groans, head tipping back. His skin is warm, stretched over powerful muscle and old scars, stories written across him.

Your gaze drops—oh God.

He's stripping out of his jeans now, pushing them down along with his boxers—and fuck. You knew he was big. You knew it from the way his hands dwarfed yours, the way his fingers stretched you open when he prepped you, the way his cock felt heavy against your belly when he first laid you out beneath him.

But seeing it— really seeing it—makes your throat go dry. He's long and thick, veiny, the head flushed and leaking. Precum beads at the tip, dripping down the shaft, smearing across your skin when he presses close again. You can feel it, sticky warmth spreading over your stomach—fuck.

Your legs are already spread, body pliant under his touch, flushed warm from how long he's spent kissing every inch of you. But now that you're here, staring down at that thick length, your confidence wavers.

"Jay," you breathe, voice softer than you expect—half awe, half holy shit.

He knows. Of course he does. His hands are already smoothing up your thighs, squeezing gently as he leans over you. Dark hair falls forward, that white streak that you like catching the dim light, casting shadows across his wrecked face. His eyes—fuck—dark, pupils blown wide with lust, consuming you.

"You still good, baby?"

His voice is low, thick with restraint, like he's holding himself back by a thread. Your mouth opens—but nothing comes out at first. Instead, your fingers flex against his shoulders, gripping hard. He's just... so big.

Jason lets out a quiet chuckle, dipping down to kiss your nose—sweet, soft. "You're lookin' at me like I'm about to break you."

You swallow, heart pounding. "You are."

His jaw flexes, something raw flickering across his face—heat, hunger, something tender too.

"Nah." His lips brush yours—soft, a promise in the wreckage. "Gonna take care of you." Another kiss, deeper this time, stealing your breath. "Gonna make it feel good."

He lines himself up, cock heavy in his hand, and fuck, you can feel it—hot and throbbing against your soaked folds. His other hand rests on your thigh, holding you open like it's the easiest thing in the world.

You're panting, skin flushed, every nerve lit up as he drags the thick head of his dick through your slick, smearing precum and arousal together until it's messy, sticky, filthy.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, voice rough, wrecked. "Look at this... look at how wet you are for me."

His gaze drops to where you're spread wide for him, cock nudging your clit—a jolt shoots through you, your hips twitching—but his hands hold you down, firm and unchanging.

"You hear that?" he rasps, rolling his hips just enough that the head slides against your swollen clit—slick noises filling the air. "Soaked, baby. Shit, you're fuckin' perfect."

Heat flares through you, cheeks burning, but you can't stop the needy little whimper that escapes when he teases your entrance again, tip pressing just barely inside.

His gaze lifts—hungry, dark, soft. Like you're his whole goddamn world. "You ready for me, pretty girl?" His thumb brushes your cheek, tender despite the weight of his cock poised at your entrance. "Gonna take care of you, yeah?"

You nod, breath catching. "Yeah... Please."

Jason's jaw tightens, like he's barely holding on. "Good girl."

And then—fuck—he starts to push in.

The stretch is instant, your pussy straining around the thick head of his cock. It's too much, too big, and your fingers scramble for purchase, gripping the sheets tight as a gasp rips from your throat.

"F-fuck—"

"Shhh, I've got you," Jason soothes, voice gentle even as his hips press forward. His hand slides up, thumb stroking soothing circles into your skin. "Just breathe for me, baby. So good, takin' me so fuckin' well."

You try, you really do, but God, the burn. It's sharp, making your legs twitch, hips jerking. His cock splits you open, inch by slow, agonizing inch.

Jason groans, head dropping to rest against your shoulder for a beat, shaking. "Jesus, baby... you're—fuck. Squeezin' me so fuckin' tight."

His words send heat pooling in your belly, but it's so much, stretching you to your limit. You bite your lip, eyes squeezed shut as he pauses, hips still, letting you adjust. His hand cups your face, thumb tracing your cheekbone.

"You okay?"

His voice is soft, earnest. Like he'd stop if you asked. Like he wants you to feel good more than anything.

You nod, chest heaving. "Hurts... but fuck, it's so good."

"Yeah?" His lips brush yours, achingly tender. "You're doin' so fuckin' good for me, baby. So fuckin' tight, can barely—shit—barely fit."

And then he rocks his hips, just a little, just to test the water. White-hot pleasure sparks, the pain melting, shifting into something else entirely. Your walls clench around him instinctively, trying to pull him deeper, and fuck—your whimper slips out, soft, shaky, helpless.

Jason's breath catches, body tense, every muscle flexing. He looks down at you, pupils blown, lips parted. "Fuck, do that again," he rasps, voice barely there.

Your mind swims, overwhelmed—but when he rolls his hips once more, your body betrays you, another whimper falling free.

Jason growls. Deep, rough, like he's losing it. He pushes in slow, cock thick and unforgiving as your pussy clings to every inch, stretching around him. There's a burn, sharp and intense, making your breath hitch, but fuck, it feels so good, hurts just right.

"Shhh," Jason soothes, voice low, thick with restraint. His hands frame your face, holding you steady, his muscles taut beneath your fingers. "Doin' so good, baby. Just a little more. Almost there."

He pauses, lets you breathe, lets you feel. His cock throbs inside you, barely halfway in, and you're already so full. You gasp, head tilting back, chest heaving.

"Fuck," you whisper, walls fluttering. "So big..."

Jason's jaw flexes, a soft groan spilling from his lips. "Yeah? You're takin' me so fuckin' well. Goddamn, look at you." His gaze drops, watching where his cock disappears into you, your slick coating him. "Messy already, baby. So pretty."

He eases in further, slow, careful, letting you adjust. Your cunt struggles to take him, every inch a stretch, a burn, but it melts, shifts into pleasure, thick and all-consuming.

And then he bottoms out.

You gasp, a soft cry escaping as his hips press flush against yours. "Oh God—" so deep, so hot, so full.

Your pussy clenches, overwhelmed by the sheer size of him. Jason leans down, kisses you. Slow, deep, hot. His tongue slides against yours, coaxing you into a messy dance that makes your walls tighten around him.

He groans softly into your mouth—low, rough, and fuck, you feel it everywhere. His tongue dances with yours, messy, heated, but not rushed, like he wants to savor you, to taste every little sound you make. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, and he leans into it, deepening the kiss until your lungs burn and your head swims.

Your pussy flutters around his thick cock, gripping him with every shift of his hips, the fullness inside you making your toes curl. Every swirl of his tongue sends sparks down your spine, feeding that deep ache between your legs. God, you're so full of him, your slick walls clenching like your body is begging to keep him there.

And underneath it all, that steady throb of him inside you, every flutter of your cunt making him curse softly against your lips, hips stuttering as your body squeezes him tight.

"Shit, baby," he groans into your mouth. "Clampin' down on me like that—fuck—feels so fuckin' good."

Your head spins, drowning in heat and him. When he pulls back, breaking the kiss, his eyes are dark, soft, wrecked.

"You alright?" he murmurs, thumb brushing your cheek.

You nod, breath shaky. "Please... move."

That's all it takes. Jason pulls out almost entirely, the thick head dragging against your sensitive walls—your slick making a wet sound that has him groaning, hips trembling.

Then, he pushes back in. Slow. Deliberate. Every inch filling you perfectly.

Your mind blurs, overwhelmed by the stretch and heat. Fuck, he feels so good, so full, your pussy molding to him like it was made for this. And bare, skin-to-skin—it's different. Better. Raw. Intimate.

No barriers. Just him. You. Heat. Friction.

Your thoughts spiral, remembering how sweet he'd been—getting tested just for you. "You don't have to, baby," he'd said, so sure, so trusting. But you had anyway. Wanted to reassure him. Wanted this. Bare. Real. And God, you hadn't known sex could feel this good. Jason's pace is slow, deep, torturous. His hips roll, dragging his cock against every sensitive spot inside you.

"Fuck, baby—" his voice is rough, wrecked. "Pussy's perfect. So fuckin' tight. So good. You hear yourself? Best fuckin' sounds I ever heard."

Your moans spill free, soft, needy, mixing with the slick sounds of him fucking into you. His lips find yours again—kissing you, worshiping you, every thrust measured, deep, making you feel every inch.

Jason moves slow, deep, fucking you with a rhythm that makes your whole body ache for more. Every thrust has him sliding against your walls, every drag of his cock making your pussy tighten like it never wants to let him go. And fuck, he feels it—feels the way you're so wet, so hot, your cunt pulling him in like you were made for this.

"Shit," he mutters, voice rough as his forehead drops against yours. "You're gonna kill me, baby."

His lips brush your cheek, your jaw, his breath ragged, every exhale heavy with restraint. "Sound so fuckin' sweet."

You can't hold still. Your hands scramble for purchase, gripping his arms, his back, nails digging into the muscle that flexes with every roll of his hips.

"Jay, I—"

"I know, baby," he whispers, voice strained, thick with want. "I know. I've got you. I've got you."

And fuck, he does. His hands are everywhere—one sliding down your thigh, fingers digging in as he lifts your leg higher against his waist, adjusting the angle. And when he thrusts again—

His hips roll slow, deep, dragging pleasure through your veins, making your body tremble beneath him. You're stretching, adjusting, but it still feels like too much—too big, too deep—but you love it, love how he's holding you together even as he's pulling you apart.

"Fuck," he groans, voice shaking. "Look at you."

You barely have the strength to open your eyes, but when you do—fuck. He looks wrecked. His jaw is clenched tight, his eyes dark and hungry, but his hands—his big, gentle hands—stroke along your body, like he's memorizing every inch of you. And then he leans down, lips brushing your temple, voice low and possessive.

"Mine," he murmurs, rough and raw. "All mine."

Your breath hitches, body clenching around him at the gravel in his voice.

Jason grins, breathless, his nose brushing yours. "Love those little noises, baby." His hips roll again, slow, teasing, making your toes curl. "You gonna keep whimpering for me?"

You can't stop. Not when he has you like this—stretched out beneath him, held so gently even as he fucks you deep.

He groans, lips trailing down your throat, biting lightly at your shoulder. "Fuck," he mutters, voice rough, words punctuated by another deep, perfect thrust. "Gonna make you feel so fuckin' good."

Your body arches, thighs shaking, and Jason—God, he feels everything. How you clench when he kisses you, how your cunt squeezes him when he praises you.

You cling to him like you'll fall apart if you don't, arms wrapping tight around his shoulders, pulling him down until his mouth crashes into yours. The kiss is deep, sloppy, hot, all teeth and tongue, your moans spilling between his lips as he fucks you faster. His hips snap forward, each thrust deeper, harder, making you cry out against his mouth.

"Fuck—baby," he groans into the kiss, tongue sliding against yours, tasting every little sound you make. "So fuckin' sweet—"

His skin slaps against yours, the squelch of your slick coating him every time he bottoms out, his pelvis rubbing right against your clit—right there—and fuck, it's too much. Your fingers tangle in his hair, nails scraping against his scalp, pulling him closer, tighter, like you can anchor yourself to him.

"Jay—oh my God—"

"Yeah?" he grunts, lips dragging down to your neck, biting, sucking, leaving marks that'll sting later. "That feel good, baby? Fuckin'—God, you feel so fuckin' good around me."

Your moans get higher, softer, desperate, your body trembling beneath him as he pounds into you. Every thrust hits that spot, the pressure building so tight you can barely breathe.

"C'mon, pretty girl," he pants, voice wrecked, hips grinding deeper. "Give it to me. Wanna feel you cum on my dick."

That pushes you over. Your orgasm hits like a fucking freight train, pleasure exploding through your veins, blinding, hot, overwhelming. Your back arches, mouth falling open in a cry that's half moan, half sob, your cunt clenching so tight around him it pulls a growl from his chest.

"Fuck, fuck, baby—"

He keeps moving, hips grinding through it, dragging out your orgasm until you're shaking, your thighs trembling around his waist. Every thrust makes you feel it everywhere, your clit rubbing against his skin, sparks of pleasure crackling through you with every squelching slide of his cock.

"Goddamn," Jason groans, head dropping to your shoulder, panting, his voice rough in your ear. "Pussy's squeezin' me so fuckin' tight—shit. Feels so good, baby, so fuckin' good."

Your fingers scrape down his back, desperate for more, even as your body twitches with aftershocks. His cock drags against your over-sensitive walls, making you whimper, and he smirks against your skin.

"Look at you," he pants, fucking into you slow now, deep, making you feel every inch. "Takin' me so good, baby—fuck, love how you cum for me."

Your brain's mush, your body boneless, but you want more.

"Jay..."

It's half a moan, half a whimper, and fuck, the sound makes his hips stutter. His eyes snap to yours, brows furrowing with instant worry. Shit. His brain short-circuits, thoughts racing—Did I hurt her? Push too far?

The last thing he wants is to hurt you, to ruin this. His heart twists, the rush of panic making his grip ease but then you lick your lips, breath shaky, eyes dark with need.

"H-harder," you whisper, voice barely there but wrecked, needy, and so fucking hot it punches the air from his lungs.

He goes dumb for a second—blinking, brain lagging—because holy shit.

"You sure, baby?"

His voice is rough, low, edged with concern but fuck, there's heat burning bright in his eyes. You nod, brows furrowed, lips parted, dripping for him, and God, he's gone. So fucking gone.

You have no idea how completely wrecked he is over you, how your face, your sounds, the way you look right now is burned into his soul. Fuck, he doesn't think he's ever wanted anyone this badly—no, not badly. Desperately.

"If something doesn't feel right," he rasps, leaning in, voice serious beneath the hunger, "you tell me, yeah?"

You nod again, legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer, and that's it—he loses it. His hips snap forward, harder, deeper, faster, dragging a sharp cry from your throat as your head throws back, mouth falling open. God, the sound, the way your tits bounce with every thrust—it's too much.

His gaze locks on them, entranced, like they're the prettiest fucking thing he's ever seen—soft, perfect, fucking begging for his mouth. He leans down, tongue flicking over a pebbled nipple, sucking, licking, his lips wrapping around it hungrily.

"Fuck—" he groans against your skin, teeth scraping just enough to make you shiver.

He moves to the other, sucking deep, leaving faint hickeys, marks he wants burned into your skin because you're his right now—all his.

"Look at you," he pants, thrusting deep, hips grinding against you, rubbing your clit just right. "So fuckin' gorgeous... bouncin' for me like that—shit, baby, you're unreal."

Your nails dig into his back, scraping, making him groan against your chest. His thrusts pick up, relentless, dragging wet, filthy squelches from where he's buried deep, your pussy clenching around him so perfectly.

"Fuckin' God," he grits out, "feel like you're made for me." His voice breaks, wrecked with pure need, hips slamming into yours, making the bed creak, skin slapping loud and obscene. "So tight, baby, takin' me so fuckin' good—shit, you hear that? Hear how wet you are for me?"

Every thrust makes your breath hitch, your body rocking with his. His mouth moves between your neck and chest, tasting, licking, biting, leaving you marked, claimed.

"Fuck, baby—fuck," he pants, hips relentless, his abs flexing against your stomach, body hot and solid. "You're gonna ruin me. Shit, you already have."

He pulls away, your nipple leaving his mouth with a wet pop, and fuck, the way your chest heaves makes him want to dive back in—but no. Not yet.

He sits upright, hands gripping your hips, and Jesus, the sight wrecks him. His gaze locks on the place where his dick slides in and out of you, slick and glistening, soaked with how fucking wet you are.

"Shit, baby—" his voice catches, rough and wrecked, "look at this."

Your pussy stretches around him, tight and perfect, swallowing him whole. Every thrust drags a filthy squelch, his cock gleaming with your slick, and fuck, you’re making a mess—dripping down to his balls, coating him. His abs flex with every deep thrust, jaw clenched as he watches your cunt take him, take all of him.

"Goddamn," he groans, hips rolling, eyes glued to where you're joined. "Look at you takin' it—fuck, baby, you're takin' my whole dick—" He grits his teeth, pulling out slow, just to watch your pussy cling, desperate to keep him inside. "You're gonna kill me, baby. Shit."

You squirm, sheepish, a flush burning across your skin. "Don't... don't look at me," you whine, voice small, embarrassed by the intensity of his gaze, the way he's devouring you with his eyes.

His gaze snaps to yours, dark and hot, but there's warmth in it—soft, reassuring beneath the feral hunger.

"Hey," he murmurs, hips still moving, deep, slow, "don't do that. Don't hide from me." His thumb brushes along your hip, gentle despite the rough pace. "You're fuckin' gorgeous, baby, every part of you. Watching you take me like this—shit, it's the hottest thing I've ever seen."

And then—fuck—his hand moves, sliding down until his fingers find your clit, puffy and needy. He circles it, slow, deliberate, just as his hips pound into you, dragging a choked whine from your throat.

"Jay—oh, fuck... too much," you whimper, hips jerking, trying to squirm away, but his grip tightens, holding you right there.

"No, baby," he pants, hips relentless, dick hitting deep, stretching you wide. "You can take it. You're my good girl, right? Gimme one more, c'mon, I'm so fuckin' close."

Your mind spins, thoughts scattered, every thrust punching pleasure through your veins. He's big—God, so fucking big—stretching you to the limit, filling you so deep it feels like you can feel him in your throat. Every thrust hits that spot, sparks exploding behind your eyes. This is the best fuck of your life, no contest.

And fuck, people call him scary, say he's dangerous—but not here, not with you. Not like this. Not when his touch is careful, when he's so mindful of your pleasure, his voice gentle even as he wrecks you.

"God," he groans, hips slamming into you, his thumb rubbing against your clit with every thrust, making your thighs shake. "You feel so fuckin' good. Tight, wet, takin' me so perfect. Baby—shit—you got no idea what you're doin' to me."

Your nails dig into his arms, desperate, overwhelmed, his dick dragging against your walls, making you see stars.

He pounds into you, hips slamming against yours with bruising force, each thrust dragging a broken moan from your throat. His fingers circle your clit, faster, harder, until you're falling apart, babbling, a mess of whimpers and cries.

"Fuck, Jay... oh my God, please—"

You can't think, can't breathe, pleasure crashing over you in waves, your back arching, body tightening beneath him.

"That's it, baby. Fuck, you're takin' me so good. C'mon,give it to me... cum for me, doll—wanna feel you squeeze me," he growls, hips relentless, cock dragging against your sweet spot over and over.

And fuck, when it hits—it's devastating. Your vision whites out, body snapping taut as your orgasm crashes through you, intense, all-consuming. Your pussy clamps down around him, pulsing, milking his cock, making him curse, a ragged moan tearing from his chest.

But he doesn't stop.

He leans over you, his mouth crashing against yours in a bruising kiss, messy, desperate. His tongue tangles with yours, claiming, consuming, swallowing your gasps and whimpers as he fucks you through your high. His hips drive deep, faster, rougher, chasing his own release, and you melt under him—helpless, wrecked.

"God, Jay, you feel so good," you whimper against his lips, voice wrecked, slurred with pleasure. "So deep, fuck... so good—"

His eyes flutter shut, hips slamming into you with single-minded focus, cock dragging against your sensitive walls. "Fuck, baby," he pants, voice rough, wrecked, "you got no fuckin' idea—shit—drivin' me crazy."

He moans—deep, guttural—right in your ear, making your whole body shudder. "Where d'you want me to cum, doll?" His voice breaks, hips still pounding, "Tell me—fuck—where d'you want it?"

You don't hesitate, eyes glassy, lips parted, "Inside me, God, please—"

And fuck, that's it—he's gone.

"Shit, fuck, fuck," he growls, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his hips slamming into you like a man possessed.

His dick throbs, swelling inside you—then he breaks, hips jerking, and he cums, hard, deep. Hot ropes of cum flood your pussy, the pressure blinding, making you cry out, pussy clenching around him.

God. His load is huge. You can feel it—hot, thick, endless. Spurts of cum paint your insides, flooding your pussy so much it spills out, leaking around his thrusting cock in wet, sticky streams. Each pulse of his dick sends another gush of cum deeper, so warm and slick you swear you feel it spreading, coating every inch of your clenching walls.

And fuck, your cunt's puffy, swollen from how hard he's fucked you, stretched so perfectly around him, gripping him like your body refuses to let him go. His cock's still thick, throbbing, buried balls-deep as he grinds his hips, like he needs to push it all in—like he wants his cum everywhere.

The pressure's too much.

Your clit's throbbing, overstimulated, slick and sensitive from how he rubbed it raw, from how his skin keeps dragging against it. And with his cum gushing inside, with his cock pounding it deeper, it tips you over again—one last time.

Your orgasm slams into you like a fucking freight train.

"Oh, fuck, Jay... oh my God—"

Your back arches, mouth dropping open in a silent scream before broken moans spill out, babbling, wrecked. Your pussy clamps down so tight around him it makes him curse, hips jerking.

"Shit, baby, fuck—" as you milk his cock, your walls spasming, pulling every last drop from him.

Stars burst behind your eyelids—white-hot, blinding. Your whole body shakes, overwhelmed, nerves lit up, toes curling as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through you, relentless, all-consuming.

You can't stop shaking, can't stop moaning, a wrecked mess under him, drenched in sweat, skin tingling from how good—how fucking good—he makes you feel.

And he's still there, still grinding, fucking his cum into you, hips rolling slow, making wet squelches fill the air—filthy, messy, your combined slick and his cum making a sloppy mess between you. You feel it leak out, thick streams oozing past where you're stretched wide around him, warm as it dribbles down your ass.

"Look at you," he pants, voice wrecked, dark eyes devouring you. "So fuckin' pretty, makin' a mess all over me. Shit, baby, takin' me so good."

Your breath hitches, heart racing, head spinning. You're ruined. Destroyed. And fuck, you love it. Your body trembles, and you sob—not from pain, but from too much pleasure, from how overwhelmed you are.

"Shhh, pretty girl," he murmurs, voice soft, soothing, as his lips brush over your skin—your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your lips—gentle pecks that ground you, anchor you to him.

His big hands roam your body, soothing touches that chase away the lingering tremors.

"It's okay, baby. Got you," he whispers, thumb rubbing soft circles along your hip.

His body's so warm against yours, chest rising and falling with steady breaths, damp with sweat. He's careful, so careful not to crush you with his weight, propped up just enough to let you breathe, but still close enough that you can feel him everywhere.

And fuck, his dick's still inside you, still thick, still faintly throbbing. The stretch makes you whimper, a soft, shaky sound that tugs at his heart. He smiles, leans down, and runs a hand through your hair, fingers gentle, comforting.

"You did so good for me," he murmurs, voice rough but tender. "So fuckin' good, pretty girl."

Your lashes flutter, heart pounding, and you murmur, voice wobbly, "God, that... that was... so fucking good."

He chuckles, low and warm, a sound that rumbles through his chest. "Yeah, baby?"

His dark eyes soften when you nod, your nose brushing his, eyes big and beautiful, looking at him with this adoring gaze that wrecks him all over again. Fuck, you let him fuck you like that—hard, deep, relentless—and now you're looking at him like he hung the stars, like he didn't just ruin you, like he's something good. And God, that does something to him. Warms him, unravels him, makes him want to kiss you again and again.

So he does.

He leans down, lips brushing yours, and the kiss unfolds slow, lazy, messy. His tongue slides against yours, soft moans mixing between your mouths. Your lips part, welcoming him, and he tastes you, deep and slow, like he's got all the time in the world. His fingers thread through your hair, cradling you, keeping you close as you melt into him.

Your breaths mingle, warm and shaky, tongues sliding together in a sloppy kiss that's all soft sounds—wet licks, gentle sucks, hushed moans. You cling to him, nails digging into his back, and he loves it, loves you like this—soft, wrecked, beautiful.

He breaks the kiss after a few lingering licks, breathing heavy against your lips, and slowly, he begins to pull out.

You hiss, a sharp, shaky sound, and your thighs tremble, cunt sore, swollen, molded to the shape of his cock. The drag of him leaving your puffy, overstimulated pussy has your eyes fluttering, jaw slack, as warm, sticky cum begins to leak out—his load, thick and hot, spilling down your messy folds.

And fuck, his eyes are glued to the sight.

Your pussy is glistening, wrecked, stretched from taking him so deep and so good, and there's so much cum, sticky strings connecting your swollen lips to his slick, flushed dick. His jaw clenches, fingers itching to push it back in, to watch you drip around his cock again. God, the urge is unbearable.

But then you whimper, soft and tired, and he shakes himself out of it, soothing a hand over your quivering thigh. "Easy, baby," he murmurs, voice rough but gentle, "I know."

He plops down beside you, muscles relaxing, and you instinctively snuggle in, nuzzling against his broad, sweaty chest. His heartbeat's steady, comforting, and without hesitation, his arms wrap around you, pulling you close. He presses a kiss to your temple, warm lips lingering as his fingers trace soft shapes along your damp skin.

"You okay?" he asks, voice low, concern threading through the roughness.

You nod, so sleepy, so fucked out, eyelids heavy. "Mhmm," you murmur, content.

He chuckles, that deep, warm sound rumbling through his chest, and god, it soothes you. His calloused fingers glide along your sweat-slicked skin, slow, comforting, as you breathe him in—warm, safe, so good.

You tilt your head up, blinking lazily, and pout, voice soft, "Can I stay?"

He pauses, brows knitting as he glances down. "What?"

Your cheeks heat, and you look away, suddenly sheepish. Fuck. He doesn't exactly scream cuddles after fucking. Not with the reputation that precedes him.

But then his fingers gently tilt your chin up, urging your gaze back to his. "Hey, talk to me, baby."

Your heart skips. You swallow, nervous, "I mean... I... can I stay the night?"

For a beat, there's silence, then—he laughs, a surprised, genuine sound, and cups your cheek, thumb brushing softly along your warm skin.

"I didn't know leaving was an option."

Your eyes widen, taken aback, and then you giggle, nose scrunching. "You like me that much?"

And God, you've only been together a few weeks, and yeah, maybe you thought he was just waiting to fuck you, toss you aside after—but fuck, he's been so good to you from the start.

You just... believed the talk, like a moron. He's Red Hood, Jason Todd. He fucks and leaves. That's what everyone said. But he never made you feel like that. Not once.

"I do," he says, simple, honest, and it hits you right in the chest.

Your heart flutters, and you see it—the sincerity in those bright blue eyes, something soft and real that makes your throat tighten.

His hand trails down from your side, and then—he cups your ass, big hand kneading the soft flesh before giving it a playful slap.

You yelp, giggling against his chest, and he grins, "Couldn't help myself," he murmurs, teasing.

You almost fall asleep against him, nuzzled into his warm chest, surrounded by the steady beat of his heartbeat and the faint scent of his skin—clean, a hint of gunpowder, and something uniquely him that makes your head spin. God, he smells so fucking good.

His fingers trace soft patterns along your sweaty skin, gentle, soothing, and fuck, it's impossible not to drift. Your eyelids droop, breath slowing, body boneless against him.

But then—he shifts slightly, muscles tensing as he moves, and you whine, voice small, "Nooo..."

He chuckles, the sound deep and fond. "C'mon, baby," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. "We gotta clean up."

You pout, half-asleep, mumbling, "M'tired..."

And fuck, he melts. Heart just gone. You're too cute, all sleepy and clingy, eyes heavy and lips pouty. "I'll clean you quickly, I promise, okay?"

You grumble, but when he pulls away, you whimper, instinctively clinging to him. His brows lift, a bit surprised. He's not that guy—not the cuddly type, not the one for soft aftercare. But for you? Fuck. For you, he is.

"Alright, baby," he murmurs, and then he scoops you up, effortless, like you weigh nothing.

His arms cradle you against his broad chest, warmth radiating off him as he carries you to the bathroom. The tile's cool beneath his bare feet, and the soft glow of the bathroom light makes everything feel hazy, dreamlike. He sets you down gently, but you cling, arms wrapped around his torso, cheek pressed to his skin.

"Jesus," he laughs softly, "you're really not lettin' go, huh?"

You mumble something incoherent, and he just grins, wrapping an arm around you while he reaches to turn on the shower. The pipes groan, and warm steam begins to fill the air.

"Just a bit more," he says, voice low, chin resting on your shoulder as you lean back into him, "and we'll go to sleep, yeah?"

You nod sleepily, and he presses a soft kiss to the curve of your neck, lips warm against your cool skin. The water heats up, steam curling around you both, and he guides you into the shower cabin. The first rush of warm water hits your skin, washing away the sweat and stickiness, and you sigh, body relaxing further.

He steps behind you, arms wrapping around your waist, holding you close. One of his hands spreads over your belly, rubbing slow circles.

"God," he hums, mouth brushing against your damp hair, "you did so good for me, baby."

Your heart flutters, but you just nod, too tired to do much else.

"Just a quick shower," he murmurs, reaching for his body wash.

He pours some into his hand—and God, his hands are so big compared to you—before he starts lathering you up. His fingers glide over your skin, gentle but thorough, slick suds sliding down your tired body.

He washes you carefully, every curve, every dip, soothing touches along your arms, shoulders, hips. He's fast but soft, intent on making sure you're clean without keeping you up too long.

When he finishes, he guides you under the spray, rinsing you off, and you just lean against him, boneless, letting him take care of you.

"See? Told you I'd be quick," he grins, fingers brushing along your waist.

"Mhmm," you murmur, sleepy satisfaction settling in your bones.

Then, it's his turn. He grabs the body wash, lathering up quickly, and you step back slightly, half-lidded eyes drifting down his broad chest, strong arms, defined abs, water cascading down his tattooed skin.

God. You bite your lip, not even subtle about staring. His muscles shift with every movement, abs flexing as he runs suds over his chest, water tracing every dip and ridge. And when he turns around to rinse off—fuck.

His back is just as unfair, muscles rippling, tattoos stretching over his skin, and your gaze drops lower. His ass is perfect, firm and sculpted, like something out of a fantasy, and those thighs—Jesus.

Thick, powerful, covered in droplets that slide down to his calves. You can see the sheer strength there, thighs that could crush you without trying, legs that hold him steady when he wrecks you.

And then—yeah, he catches you.

"Caught you starin', baby," he teases, grinning, "like what you see?"

Your face heats, and you huff, "Shut up."

"Didn't hear a no," he laughs, water streaming down his face, blue eyes bright with amusement.

You pinch your nose just as he turns off the water, a little scrunch of your face that makes him snort softly.

"Such a drama queen," he mutters, grinning as he steps out first, water dripping from his tattooed skin.

He grabs a towel, gives it a quick shake, and then turns back to you. Warmth flickers in his blue eyes as he wraps you in it, pulling the soft fabric snug around your damp body.

"Gotcha," he murmurs, fingers brushing your cheek.

He offers his hand, and you take it, stepping out carefully. The bathroom tile is cool against your feet, and you shiver—but it's not from the cold.

Because holy shit.

Your eyes catch on him—the broad chest, water sliding down sculpted abs, and then... yeah. Your gaze drops. And even soft, his dick is huge. Like, what the fuck. Thick, heavy, resting against his thigh, and God—it's pretty.

Veins running along the length, flushed at the tip, and that happy trail above it? Dark, perfect, practically begging you to lick your way down. The kind of sight that makes your mouth water, heat curling low in your belly.

Your brain short-circuits for a second, and all you can think is how the fuck did that fit inside you? No wonder you felt stretched to the brink, stuffed full, wrecked. God, he ruined you.

He smirks, noticing your stare, but says nothing—just grabs another towel and wraps it around his waist. Barely. It hangs low on his hips, dangerously close to slipping, teasingly casual.

"C'mon, baby," he murmurs, guiding you back to the bedroom.

The sheets are rumpled, still bearing evidence of what he did to you, and heat rushes to your cheeks. He tosses open his closet, rummaging for a second before pulling out a t-shirt.

"Here," he says, grinning, "this'll do."

It's worn soft, the fabric faded but smelling like him—that clean scent, mixed with cologne and something uniquely Jason. Your head spins, heart fluttering.

He gently dries you off, hands warm as he rubs the towel over your arms, shoulders, legs, taking careful time with your still-sensitive skin. Then he slips the shirt over your head, and it swallows you whole.

Like, drowns you. The hem hits mid-thigh, the neckline wide, slipping off your shoulder. The sleeves hang loose, practically devouring your arms.

Jason leans back, takes one look at you, and laughs. "Jesus," he grins, "you look like you're wearin' a damn dress."

You huff, slapping his chest. Which, of course—does absolutely nothing.

He's built like a fucking wall. Solid. Unmoving.

"Ouch," you deadpan, "my hand's broken now."

He catches your wrist easily, grinning, and then pulls you into him. His arms wrap around you, big hands sliding beneath the hem of the oversized shirt—and yep, they go straight for your ass.

He cups it, kneading shamelessly.

You huff, "You're obsessed."

"Yeah," he says, zero shame, grin widening. "I am."

Jason grabs a pair of boxers, slides them on, the waistband snapping against his hips. He picks up both towels, tossing them into the laundry basket.

"Hang on," he says, waving you off as you yawn. "These sheets are trashed."

You flop face-first onto the bed anyway, muffled, "Don't care. Tired."

"Yeah, I know," he grins, peeling the sheets off on his side.

They're ... yeah. Destroyed. Wrinkled, soaked, and holy shit, he really did a number on you. You roll to the side, watching him wrestle with the fitted sheet like it's personally offended him.

"Need help?" you mumble.

"No," he grunts, "I got it. Fucking—goddamn thing—"

He finally manages, cursing under his breath, and throws on fresh ones. Then, without warning, he turns, grins, and scoops you up so he can fit the sheet on your side too.

"Jason!" you squeal, legs kicking weakly, "I can—"

"Shhh," he teases, "you love it."

He plops you onto the fresh sheets, and you bounce, letting out a giggly little noise. "Asshole."

"Yup," he agrees cheerfully, dropping down next to you. His arm snakes around your waist, dragging you in, and you go willingly, curling against his chest.

"God," you yawn again, nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

His skin's warm, smells like him—that clean soap mixed with his natural heat. One arm drapes over his waist, your fingers splaying over solid muscle.

His hand finds the back of your head, gentle, fingers threading through your damp hair.

"You okay?" he asks softly, voice rumbling in your ear.

You nod, murmuring, "Mhmm... just tired."

"Sleep, baby," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You melt, mumbling something incoherent, and he chuckles, pulling you closer.

And as you drift off, Jason just... lays there. Holds you. He wasn't expecting this. Not the clingy post-sex cuddling, not you nuzzling into him like he's safe, like you trust him.

Not the way his chest feels tight, not in a bad way, just... fuck. He's not soft. Not really. Not supposed to be. But you curl into him, and it's like his body knows what to do, like holding you is instinct.

You're small against him, your breathing evening out, little puffs of air against his neck. And shit, he could get used to this.

Your leg hooks over his, possessive even in sleep, and he smirks, shaking his head.

"You're somethin' else," he murmurs, so quiet you don't hear.

But yeah... he's already all fucking in.

P. S: I didn't forget about your requests, guys. I have the Nightwing one you suggested, imma post it these days 🤭 I'm just a slut for both Dick and Jason rn ✋🏻

[multiple-fandomimagines]

Hey, I was wondering if you could write like a fic about the reader having never had an orgasm before, and she has like a really intense one and likes lots of praise kink. Please🥺

Hold

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

You are having drinks with Elijah and you want to tell him about your little problem, in hopes that he will help you with it.

♡♡ Thanks for the request(s) anons! I love his hands and I thought these requests would be perfect together ♡♡

4.9k words - Warnings: smut, hand!kink, slight daddy!kink, finger sucking, squirting, lots of praise, Elijah being sweet...

You sat in Elijah's lounge room, surrounded by plush chairs and soft carpet, watching him pour out a couple of glasses of whiskey. You watched the way his hands worked, the way they flexed as he gripped the bottle, pouring the golden liquid into the two crystal tumblers.

Elijah had invited you over for drinks, it was technically your third date, although he probably wouldn't consider it a date, it was more of a casual hang out, but you liked to count every time you saw him.

He was so very charming, he made you blush when you least expected it. He would whisper in your ear, and compliment you, but what really turned you on was the way his hands would touch you. It was always light and subtle, just a graze of his fingertips against your thigh, or the small of your back. Your favorite thing was when he would cup your face when he kissed you. His palms were so big and warm, and his fingers would graze the hairline behind your ears.

Something about him made you feel safe, he was the kind of man who took care of things. You wondered if he could be the one who could satisfy you, to give you what you always wanted.

Elijah walked towards you with the drinks in hand, handing you the crystal tumbler filled with whiskey. The contents sparkling in the dim light, the fireplace roaring nearby.

"Thank you," you smiled, taking the drink and bringing it to your lips, letting the alcohol calm your nerves.

He unbuttoned his jacket and sat next to you, causally crossing his legs and turning to face you, his arm draped across the back of the couch.

Your cheeks were flushed as you sipped at the amber liquid. You were so nervous, you had decided to come clean and tell him what was on your mind, and you had no idea how he would react.

"I have a confession," you admitted, your eyes falling to your lap. "But I'm afraid that it might change things between us, and I really like you, I don't want anything to ruin this."

Elijah's hand went to your thigh, gently massaging your skin, sending heat straight to your core.

"I can promise you that there is nothing you could tell me that would change the way I feel about you," he reassured.

Your heart raced, your chest felt tight. You had to tell him, or else it would eat away at you until there was nothing left.

"I've never... I've never had an orgasm before." Your cheeks burned and your heart pounded in your chest, you hated being embarrassed, especially around people you liked.

"Never?" He questioned, his eyebrows raised and his lips slightly parted.

"No, I've tried on my own and with other people, and I've just... never had one." You couldn't even look him in the eye.

"Come here, sweetheart," he whispered, pulling you into his arms, your back against his chest.

He kissed the side of your head, and his hands moved to your hips. You were glad he couldn't see your face, your breath hitching when you felt him nuzzle against your neck.

"Why would you think this would change anything? I would never think less of you because of something like this."

You felt relief wash over you, enjoying the comfort of his embrace. He was a sweet man, of course he wouldn't shame you. You looked up at him, his dark eyes gazing into your own, he gave you a gentle smile and squeezed your arm.

"What if it means something is wrong with me?" You said softly, still feeling insecure, worrying that maybe you would never find a man who would be able to please you.

Elijah ran his hands down your arms, and intertwined his fingers with yours.

"Maybe you just haven't figured out what you like," he suggested, kissing the side of your head.

You blushed again, his words sparking a few dirty ideas, some you were embarrassed to admit, but perhaps a little discomfort is what you needed.

"Well, there is something I know I like," you bit your lip. “But I haven't tried…”

"And what's that?" Elijah pressed.

"Your hands," you breathed, looking at them, intertwined with your own, thinking about what they could do.

"My hands?" He smirked.

"Mhm," you nodded, bringing his hands to your lips and placing a delicate kiss on his knuckles.

"What do you like about my hands?" He asked, his breath warm against your ear, a smirk still evident in his voice.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest, wondering if it would ever slow down. He was so hot, it was overwhelming, he was a man who was hard to resist. He was teasing you, waiting for an answer, his warm breath tickling your skin.

You felt very shy, you had never asked for sex from anyone, and the last person you'd slept with was terrible in bed. He never once satisfied you, he probably didn't even know how. Now here you were, cuddled up to a man with literal centuries of experience. The hands you were holding had done unimaginable things, his lips had tasted women from all over the world, and you were sure his cock had brought more than a few to their knees.

"I like the way they feel against my skin," you admitted, his hand was resting on your hip, and you reached for it, bringing it to the front of your shirt, and pressing it against your stomach, sliding it up to your chest. "They're so warm and strong, they make me feel safe,"

Elijah hummed, his hand kneading your breast through the fabric, and his lips pressing to the back of your neck.

"What would you like me to do with them?" He teased, his fingers flicking over your nipple, causing a wave of heat to flood between your legs.

"I want them all over me," you breathed, your hips slowly moving against him.

"You will have to be more specific than that, sweetheart," he purred.

His lips were soft, the hand that was on your breast had now slid up your chest, wrapping around your throat, pulling you closer, his lips on your ear. You closed your eyes, picturing his hands running down your body, gripping your thighs, spreading them apart, his long fingers dipping inside of you.

"Between my legs," you gasped, his hand on your throat made your mind race.

He pulled you up and on to his lap, wrapping his arms around you. He brushed your hair to the side and he began to kiss your neck. His stubble tickled, and you giggled softly, squirming in his arms.

"You're so sweet," he said against your skin.

He continued to kiss your neck, and his hands roamed your body, gently caressing your sides, your stomach, your arms. It was nice, you felt so cared for, but you wanted more, his kisses and gentle touches were turning you on, and your pussy was aching, begging for attention.

You turned your head and pressed your lips to his, his mouth opening, his tongue sliding against yours. You moaned, grinding down on his lap, feeling his hardness under you.

He smiled against your lips and his hands went to your thighs, lifting them up and draping them on the outside of his legs. He spread his knees, and your legs fell open, the cold air hitting your damp panties and making you blush.

One of his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you against him, while the other rested on your inner thigh. He slowly moved his hand up, his fingers trailing higher, his fingertips brushing against the wet fabric between your legs.

"Show me how you touch yourself, guide my hand," he whispered, his warm breath tickling your ear.

You let out a soft moan, reaching between your legs and taking his wrist. You pressed his palm against the outside of your panties, grinding your hips into his hand, desperate for contact. You moaned, his hands were so big, so warm, and so much better than your own.

He hummed, and you could feel him smirking, and you could hear the pleasure in his voice, and it sent a thrill through your entire body.

"Good girl," he praised, his hand moving over your panties, gently rubbing, his thumb finding the swollen bundle of nerves hidden beneath the fabric.

You whimpered, throwing your head back, grinding harder against his palm. Your hand left his, and went to his forearms, your nails digging into his suit sleeves.

"You are so sensitive," he said against your neck, his lips pressing against your pulse. "Can I take these off?" He asked, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your underwear.

"Yes," you moaned, lifting your hips.

He slid your panties down, leaving them halfway down your thighs.

"Put my hand back, sweetheart," he demanded, his fingers dancing on the bare skin of your leg.

You placed his hand back where it was, grinding harder against his palm, moaning softly as he rubbed slow circles against your clit.

"Mmm, look at you," he cooed, his eyes fixed on your face, your eyes closed, lips parted, hips rocking, desperately grinding against his hand. "All you needed was the right touch."

You whined, the pleasure building in the pit of your stomach. You felt the muscles in your thighs tighten, and heat pool between your legs. You were so close, his hands were so much better than yours.

"Give me your hand, sweetheart," he said, removing his hand from between your legs.

"No, don't stop," you whined, grabbing his wrist, trying to put his hand back, but he refused, his fingers wrapping around your wrist.

"Let me show you something," he said, guiding your hand back between your legs, your fingers touching your clit.

You gasped, a shockwave of pleasure rushing through you.

"There you go, rub in small circles," he instructed, his lips on your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin.

Your hips bucked, and you moaned, your head spinning. His hand guided yours, guiding you to rub small, slow circles. "You're so beautiful, baby," he said, his lips pressed against your jaw. "Just like that, sweetheart, you're doing so good."

Your breathing hitched, the pressure in the pit of your stomach tightening, his hand squeezing yours, his palm on top of yours, showing you the pace and rhythm.

Your head fell back against his shoulder, his arm wrapping tighter around you, his hand going up your shirt and caressing your bare skin.

"You're such a good girl," he praised, kissing your neck. "Keep showing me."

His words sent heat straight to your core and your hand stopped moving, too distracted by the feeling of his lips. The way his other hand was running up and down your torso, his fingertips gently caressing your breast.

You felt yourself melting, you loved the way he was touching you and his lips were driving you crazy. 

"It's okay, I’ll take it from here," He purred, his lips grazing your neck, his hand resuming his movements on your clit.

"What do you think about when you do this alone?" He whispered, his free hand squeezing your waist.

"I think about you touching me," you panted, his lips and his hands were too much, it was all you could focus on.

"Is that all you think about?" He asked, his hand on your clit rubbing a little faster, sending jolts of pleasure through your core.

"Your fingers... in me," you gasped, his fingers felt so good against you, he knew exactly where to touch, and he did it with such care and precision, you could hardly stand it.

"Like this?" He asked, his fingers tracing along your slit, gently pressing a single finger inside.

You looked down, watching him sink his finger into your slick heat, moaning as he began to pump in and out, his palm rubbing against your clit.

He widened his legs, spreading yours wider with them, and his pace quickened, pumping a little harder, a little faster, his other hand cupping your breast, his fingers circling and pinching your nipple.

"Why haven't you cum before beautiful? You are so responsive, so sweet," he praised, his teeth nibbling at your ear, sending a thrill through your body, straight to your core.

"I-I don't know," you panted, your chest heaving, your breath coming in short bursts. "I just overthink and I can't focus and-"

He chuckled and his finger curled, stroking that sensitive spot inside, causing your words to catch in your throat, your head falling back and your eyes rolling.

"You're not thinking now, are you?" He asked, his free hand sliding up and wrapping around your throat, applying a light pressure.

His words made you moan, he was right, you weren't thinking, he was fucking the thoughts right out of you.

"Look at you, so perfect," he purred, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear. "I love having you in my lap, you make such pretty sounds," he praised.

His pace quickened, his hand between your legs moving faster, his palm rubbing hard against your clit, his teeth on your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

You writhed and moaned, unable to hold yourself up, his arms were holding you steady, the muscles in your thighs tensed, your toes curling.

You felt something building inside of you, something warm, and intense. It was happening so fast, you couldn't believe it. Was this the thing everyone was talking about? It was overwhelming, your skin was tingling and every muscle in your body tightened, heat spreading through you, your heart pounding, and the pressure was getting tighter and tighter.

"It's okay, just let it happen, relax," he kissed your cheek, his lips brushing against your skin. His knees spread wider, holding your legs open, his hand wrapping around your throat.

You felt it getting stronger, the tension deep within your core. You felt like your body was being possessed by an unknown force, the power of it was indescribable. Elijah held you still, keeping you from writhing in his arms, his finger moving faster.

"Please, don't stop, don't stop, don't stop, please, oh god," you begged, the warmth building inside of you, your legs shaking uncontrollably, every muscle in your body was tensed, your toes curling, your head thrown back, mouth agape.

"That's it, you are doing so good," Elijah whispered.

Your back arched and your hips lifted off of his lap, your thighs clenched together, his hand still working between them. You couldn't speak, couldn't form the words, couldn't make a sound, the feeling inside of you was so powerful. Your legs trembled and a wave of pleasure crashed through your body, starting at your core, and spreading outward, every inch of you tingling. Your vision blurred and your mind was cloudy, and a long, guttural moan fell from your lips.

"Just like that," he purred, his fingers slowing, rubbing slow circles against your clit, easing you down.

You collapsed back onto him, panting, unable to catch your breath, his hands still working between your legs, making the sensation last longer. Your muscles twitched and spasmed, and it felt like a thousand sparks were running under your skin.

Elijah gently rubbed his hand on your thigh, his lips kissing the side of your head, and the other slowly slid out from between your legs, and wrapped around your waist.

"Are you alright?" He asked, a sweet concern in his voice.

You tried to nod, but couldn't, you couldn't move, you were a trembling, quivering mess. You could feel his erection pressed against your back, and you wanted to please him, to return the favor, but you couldn't even sit up straight.

Elijah hummed softly, his hands moving to your stomach, and he wrapped his arms around you, his lips pressing gentle kisses to the side of your head.

He helped you off his lap and set you down on the sofa, kneeling before you, his hands lifting your thighs and pressing them to your chest, practically folding you in half. He was eye level with your pussy, and you blushed, suddenly feeling very exposed.

You could see how wet and swollen you were, your arousal sticking to your skin, glistening in the dim light. His warm breath was fanning against you and it caused a fresh wave of heat in your core.

"So pink and pretty," he said, his lips ghosting over your mound, placing a soft kiss just above your clit. "So sensitive," he purred, his mouth closing over your clit, his tongue swirling.

You moaned, squirming, but he held your thighs firmly, his grip strong, his hands so warm. His eyes met yours as he licked a slow stripe along your slit, the flat of his tongue teasing your clit. You were still very sensitive, and it was overwhelming, your hands went to his head and tried to push him away, but he didn't budge.

He chuckled, his hands coming up and grabbing yours, and he pinned them to your sides. He held you down and he buried his face between your legs, his tongue swirling and lapping at your clit.

You watched the way he devoured you, the sounds coming from his mouth were so filthy. He was humming and groaning, his dark eyes locked with yours. You couldn't look away, it was hypnotizing, the way his tongue moved, the way his lips sucked at your clit.

Elijah released one of your hands and slipped two fingers inside of you, pumping slowly, curling them, humming at the way you squeezed them.

"Elijah," you breathed, your voice raspy, your hand clutching at his hair.

"Yes, sweetheart?" He purred, his thumb finding your clit, and rubbing in slow circles.

You moaned, and you struggled against his grasp, desperate for friction, but he had you pinned.

"You're teasing," you whined.

"Do you want me to stop?" He asked, his tongue darting out and flicking your clit, causing your body to jolt.

"No!" You cried, the pleasure was building, and your hips were trying to roll, but he was holding them down, his fingers moving faster.

He smirked, his mouth closing over your clit again, sucking gently, his fingers pumping faster. His hair was a mess and his lips were shining, coated with your juices. His fingers were thrusting deeper, and his thumb pressed against your asshole, not quite slipping in, but enough pressure to make you squirm.

"Eli, Eli, Eli," you chanted his name, unable to form full sentences, and he seemed to like it, his eyes closed, savoring the sound.

The familiar warmth returned, and the tension was building, the muscles in your stomach tightening, and your legs trembling. Elijah could feel you tighten around his fingers, and his eyes opened, watching you, his mouth never leaving your clit.

He sucked a little harder, his tongue swirling, and you could feel yourself getting close. Your nails were digging into his scalp, your other hand was gripping his arm, and you could barely move.

A long, drawn out moan came from the back of your throat, and you felt it, the wave, the warmth, the intense pressure, building, building, building.

"I'm-I'm-" you tried to speak, but your words caught, and then, just like before, the wave crashed.

Your back arched and your pussy throbbed around his fingers, a gush of wetness flowing out, soaking his face and hand.

"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck," you moaned, your hands going to his head, your fingers twisting in his hair.

You could feel him smiling against your pussy, his fingers still moving, the sound was wetter, and sloppier, his face covered in your cum.

His lips sucked at your clit, his tongue swirling, the stimulation too much. Your thighs closed around his head and your legs locked him in place.

"Eli, don't, it's too much, it's too much," you pleaded, and his hands went to your thighs, pushing them open, gently kissing your clit before moving back.

You could hear his fingers squelching inside of you, and a soft blush dusted your cheeks, your hand went to his, and you held it still.

He smirked, moved up and captured your lips in a kiss, the taste of yourself making you moan. You ran your fingers through his hair, his mouth hungry against yours. His erection pressed into your thigh, the feeling making you desperate for more.

You pulled back, his eyes were wild and dark, filled with lust, and his lips were swollen and slick. You reached down and undid his belt, slowly pulling it off, keeping your eyes locked with his.

You unzipped his pants and reached into his boxers and took his length in your hand, a deep groan rumbling in his chest, his eyes closing as you stroked him.

The feeling of him was nice, it was warm, and his skin was soft. You liked the way he responded to you, the way he bit his lip, and the way his eyes fluttered.

He took his cock from your hand and rubbed the tip along your slit, up and down, coating himself with your arousal.

He was big and you wondered if he could make you cum with his cock alone. The way he had you angled, you could see everything, and his dick was sliding up and down, teasing you, hitting your clit with every stroke.

Your hands went to his shirt, and you started unbuttoning, the fabric sliding off, exposing his toned torso, his skin so warm and smooth, and his arms looked so good. You could stare at his forearms all day, you wanted him to pin you down, hold you still while he fucked you.

His lips claimed yours again, swallowing your moans, his hands pushing your legs further into the couch. Slowly sinking his cock inside of you, bottoming out.

You whimpered against his lips, his dick felt amazing, you were so full, his pubic bone pressed against you.

"Look at that," he cooed, taking a quick glance down, then meeting your eyes, "we fit together perfectly."

You loved the way he overwhelmed you, the way he touched you, the way he kissed you, the way he spoke, so low and gentle.

He slowly pulled out, leaving only the tip inside, and then thrusting forward, his pelvis grinding against yours. He kept a steady pace, his strokes slow, deep and hard.

You moaned into his mouth, your hands clinging to his shoulders, his arms, anywhere you could touch.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his words spoken against your lips, his nose nuzzling yours.

"Mhm," you hummed, your eyes shut tight, enjoying the feeling of him stretching you, his length reaching places that had never been touched before.

His finger gently traced over your bottom lip, and you opened your mouth, sucking his finger inside, swirling your tongue around it, biting the pad gently.

"Such a good girl," he purred, his eyes darkening.

You moaned around his finger, his pace quickening, his cock hitting a new spot, and it sent a rush through your core.

He removed his finger and pressed his lips against yours, his tongue parting your lips, slipping into your mouth, his hand holding the back of your neck.

"Daddy," the word slipped from your mouth and you froze. You didn't mean to say it, you were just so distracted, and in the moment, it slipped out.

Elijah chuckled, a wicked grin spreading across his lips, "Really?" He asked, his voice low and seductive.

Your heart was pounding, you didn't mean to say that, why did you say that? You opened your mouth to apologize, but he silenced you with a kiss

The kisses were deep, passionate, and it made you weak. He knew exactly what he was doing, his pace and rhythm was perfect, and he was driving you crazy.

The sounds of him thrusting into you, the smell of sex, his mouth on yours, the way he was touching you, it was so intoxicating, you never wanted him to stop.

He groaned, his pace quickening, and his cock hit that sweet spot, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. You clung to him, your arms around his neck, and you moaned, the feeling so intense.

"That's it," he purred, his hands moving to the underside of your thighs, holding you open, his pace fast and hard, his pelvis slapping against yours.

"Oh, god, yes, daddy, fuck," you whined, unable to control the words coming from your mouth.

"Yes, sweetheart, cum for me," he growled, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

You were so close, the warmth was returning, the now familiar heat pooling in your belly, and the tension building. Your hands gripped his biceps, the muscles flexing under your fingertips, his pace quickening.

"So sweet, so innocent, never cumming on a cock. What a shame," he mumbled, his teeth scraping over your skin, his tongue licking and soothing. "All those boys, touching themselves, wishing they were the ones to make you cum, but you chose me," his voice was low, his words making you flush, the way he was praising you was intoxicating.

"Only you," you gasped, the feeling in your core getting stronger, the waves of pleasure becoming more frequent.

He smiled, his hands moving to the back of your knees, pushing them towards you, your thighs pressed against the sides of your chest. He was folding you in half, his hips snapping forward, his cock hitting a new spot. "That's right, baby," he cooed. "No one else," his thrusts were faster and harder, the sound of his hips slapping against yours filled the room.

Your hands moved to the back of the sofa, trying to hold yourself steady, your back arching, the pleasure almost unbearable. "I'm gonna, I'm gonna, Eli-" you cried, the wave of warmth, the tension in your belly, the sparks under your skin, all coming to a peak.

The feeling exploded within you, your muscles spasming, Your back arched as the waves of pleasure washed over you, crashing through every cell of your body. You couldn't speak, couldn't moan, your mouth open in a silent cry, the euphoria indescribable.

Your head fell back and your legs trembled, and you felt a rush of warmth coat his cock, squeezing him so hard he was pushed out, but he quickly slid back in, the sensation making you squeal.

"That's it, cum on my cock, good girl," he said, his hands gripping your hips, his thrusts deep and hard.

You could see it in his face, the way his eyebrows drew together, his jaw slack, the veins in his neck were prominent, his hair disheveled. He was close, and it was turning you on, the sight of him losing control, knowing that you were the cause of it, was exhilarating.

His thrusts became faster and sloppy, his grip on your hips tightening, his face buried in the crook of your neck. Your hands went to his hair, tugging at the strands, pulling him closer.

He moaned, his hips bucking, his cock pulsing inside of you. You could feel it, the rush of warmth, his cock twitching, the sound of him panting in your ear, his hot breath fanning over your neck.

You were both covered in sweat, his breathing heavy. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close, holding him against you.

His head rose, and his eyes met yours, and he gave you a sleepy smile, his lips capturing yours in a lazy kiss. You hummed, your hand gripping his chest, sliding up to hold on to his shoulders.

Elijah groaned, his hands moving to your thighs, pulling them down, and wrapping your legs around his waist. Picking you up, and carrying you to his bathroom.

Soon, you were pressed against the cool tile of the shower, his strong hands massaging the soap into your skin, the water trickling down his muscular back. His fingers trailed over your hips, tracing the curves of your waist.

"So.. daddy?" He asked, his eyes sparkling.

"I'm so sorry," you apologized, blushing, covering your face with your hands.

He removed your hands and gave you a sly grin.

"I think I like it," he whispered, his voice low and husky, scooping you up and pinning you against the wall, his lips claiming yours in a heated kiss.

The water was still running, but it wasn't important, because the only thing on your mind was him. His hands, his lips, his body, his voice, the way he held you, the way he loved you, the way he made you cum.

After, the two of you were lying on his bed, naked and spent, his arms wrapped around you, his lips brushing over your forehead.

"You know you aren't leaving my bed for a few days, right?" He asked, his voice deep and sleepy.

"Is that so?" You teased, nuzzling your face against his chest, inhaling his scent.

"Yes," he answered, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your skin.

"How many times do you think you can make me cum in the next 72 hours?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Are you challenging me?" He asked, a smile playing on his lips.

"Maybe," you purred, kissing his jaw, your fingers moving to his chest.

"Well," he began, his hand cupping your ass, his face breaking out into a wide grin, "let's find out.”

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[multiple-fandomimagines]

Hiii 🫶🏼 I hope you're still up for doing an Elijah request! 🤗 I can't get this man out of my head haha

Soo it would be an idea where they met somewhere in Mystic Falls and immediately felt some bond between them, so it happens that they start falling in love (she's human but knows about vampires) but she's too afraid to get hurt so she also tries not to get too close to Elijah. One night he sees some stranger following her home from the Grill and even starts attacking her, Elijah is immediately there saving her and taking her home with him to treat her wounds (mostly some scratches) and he's just super worried. There she realizes that Elijah would never be the one hurting her and they finally share their feelings with a lot of kissing and cuddles afterwards and he holds her, telling how much she means to him.

Oh I hope this is not too weird at all 🙈❤️

Description: Upon meeting Elijah Mikaelson, the feelings start to come but in fear of being hurt, the reader decides to keep her walls up to protect herself. This changes after Elijah protects her after being attacked.

Warnings: fluff, small angst, physical assault (mild), she/her pronouns, maybe swearing?

*Requests are open, please send through as many requests as you want, check my character list and requesting rules.*

Thanks so much for making this request! I can never get sick of Elijah, this man is always on my mind and please feel free to request again if you wish :) I really enjoyed writing this, thank you again :D

Key: Y/N = Your Name, POV = Point of view

Word Count: 2,125

First Person's POV

Tonight at the Grill was a ‘live acoustics’ night, some of the performers were good and others were quite frankly not that great. Bonnie, Elena and Caroline were off on the next big adventure for the vampiric save-the-day business and while I knew about all the vampires, witches, werewolves and all that extra fun stuff. Besides Matt, I was the only human in the group and somehow I was pushed aside to be kept ‘safe; despite Matt always being dragged into the whirlpool of drama even if he didn’t want to be. 

“The music is wonderful for the atmosphere tonight, don’t you agree?” That voice would haunt my dreams, haunt my every thought, I couldn’t fathom how gentle and warm a voice could sound. I glanced to the side, shooting a polite smile to the impeccably dressed man and nodded in agreement. 

“I do agree, I feel like I’m in like a cute little romance story, the warm lighting and the music-“ I cut myself short, realising I was babbling to a random stranger who more than likely did not care for my ideas and thoughts. 

“I can see how you would see that.” Oh, gosh- those eyes! That smile! This man would haunt me forever, picture perfect and everything I would want in a man. I continued to share a polite smile with the man, fiddling with the straw in my chocolate milkshake and turned myself slightly to face the man a little better. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you…?” Realising that he was waiting for my name, I placed my drink down and took his hand. 

“Y/N L/N” He softly cupped my hand, shaking it and proceeded to share his name.

“Elijah Mikaelson.” I wish I could’ve hidden my reaction better, my eyes went wide, and my smile flattened for a moment before I quickly made sure to continue to be nice and polite. Elijah carefully rested my head on the bar, took a small sip of whatever his drink was and gazed at me with a quizzical look. 

“You know who I am…” His tone was neither harsh nor hurt, Elijah seemed to have suspected my knowledge of his name and he even seemed curious by the idea of my knowledge. 

“I know of your brother Niklaus… Elena told me about you, I think she might have exaggerated a bit. You don’t seem like the antagonist she kinda painted you out to be. From what I’ve heard, you’re the nicer brother… the noble one and I'm sure first glances can be deceiving but… I don’t know- you don’t seem like a bad man.”  He briefly licked his lips, eyes shooting up to the ceiling and seemed to be contemplating his next moves. 

“I suppose you know-“ 

“That you’re a…” I leaned closer to whisper so people passing by wouldn’t hear. 

“An Original.” 

“You don’t seem to be phased.”

“Team doppelgänger has built up my immunity to supernatural beings.” I let out a weak chuckle, cringing internally and turned my focus back on my drink. I wanted to keep speaking with him, I really did want to keep speaking with him but I knew the world that I happened to live in and I didn’t fancy the idea of being bait or hurt as collateral damage. 

“It was really nice to meet you Elijah but I have to go.” He nodded, that handsome smile appearing once more, his actions made me gush and brought butterflies into my belly as he grabbed my jacket and assisted in placing it back on. 

“I hope that you have a good evening, Y/N” 

“Same to you Elijah.” He seemed to have a thought pop into his head, I stopped in my tracks, allowing for him to have the benefit of the doubt and give him the chance to speak his mind. 

“May I have the pleasure of seeing you again?” 

“Maybe… There’s always tomorrow.” I knew I had given myself away, I could feel my heart skip a beat, I’m sure he could hear it, his facial expression didn’t change but I could feel that he knew what I was feeling. 

“Have a good evening,” I whispered, brushing past him to carry on my way. 

+++++++

I had seen Elijah a couple of times since our first meeting, we had small conversations and I tried my best to conceal my heart, I didn't want to get close to this man despite enjoying his presence, his voice and the true appearance of his gentlemanly ways made me fall into a daydream greater than any story or dream I could ever have or read. 

The next time I saw Elijah was three months after our first meeting, as I said we had multiple different meetings and they were all the greatest moments of my life despite how much I tried to protect my fragile heart. I had left my home for the park, I wanted to read outside of my home and get some fresh air away from the stuffiness of my bedroom. I rested the picnic blanket underneath a large tree, I read three chapters of my book before I felt a presence looming nearby, I placed the book to the side and stood up, surveying the area for a figure and jumped in my skin seeing Elijah approaching me. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you, may I join you?" I nodded, smiling at the man, watching as he unbuttoned his shirt and sat down with me on the picnic blanket. He gently picked my book up, staring at the cover with intrigue, I observed him with butterflies growing in my stomach, a blush wanting to form on my cheeks as I continued to drown in what was possibly a huge crush for the Original Vampire. 

"Ignite Me by Tahereh Mafi... I'm not sure I've heard of this one before." 

"I doubt you would've, I don't exactly picture you reading a book like this?" He smiled, tilting his head slightly, a deep chuckle leaving his mouth and he handed me back the book. 

"Why is that?" 

"Well... I don't know, I picture you reading older books nothing from the late 20th century to the early 21st century." Elijah briefly nodded in agreement, I smiled proudly at my guess and fiddled with the tassels hanging off of my bookmark. The vampire took off his suit jacket and began rolling up the sleeves of his button-up, I bit the inside of my cheek, begging myself to remain calm and avoid giving away any kind of emotions being revealed. 

"Enlighten me, will you though, please? What's it about?" I cleared my throat, leaning closer to him with joy forming, giddy that he was showing interest in something that I liked and enjoyed. 

"It's the third book in the series, I've read it before, and this one is one of my favourites. Essentially the series is all about control some people have these powers and the leaders are trying to control these people. The relationship of the main characters is what I happen to enjoy the most about it, I love how Tahereh created their bond from..." 

"Why did you stop?" Elijah gently questioned, his face furrowing in concern, I wanted to cringe but I forced the words out before I could let that show. Taking a deep breath, I turned my gaze back to him, scrunching my face up briefly and proceeded to explain to Elijah what was going through my head. 

"Whenever I ramble on to the Salvatores and all that, it's clear that they don't care and I'm not wanting to force that onto you. I'm sorry." Elijah tutted, shaking his head and holding out his hand for me to take. Hesitating for a moment, I finally rested my hand in his, holding my breath for a moment and kept my eyes focused on him as he rested his other hand on top of mine. 

"You do that too often, Y/N, I can see you trying to protect your heart and you have a wide range of information waiting to come out and you shut yourself down because you expect everyone else to do that. I hope you find someone... someone who makes you realise you don't need to do that." 

"Could possibly end up being you, Elijah," I whispered.

+++++

When someone unknown came into Mystic Falls, it was always a concerning event, the vampires were always the most suspicious of strangers and most of the time they were typically right for not trusting the stranger. It was late when I left the grill tonight, Elijah was growing on my mind more and more, and I would be hit with a wave of memories at random moments. 

"Up ahead, there's an alley to your right, walk down it. Try anything-" 

"Okay... I understand." I whispered, complying as I walked a little quicker and turned down the alleyway. I cried out as I was instantly shoved against the wall, my head ached and the world spun around me, I bit back a sob as I hit the ground and hissed as the gravel bit into my skin. I kicked off my heels, not fancying a broken ankle and lept to my feet running towards the street but missed as the man tackled me to the ground and which resulted in blood slightly trickling down my forehead and more cuts forming against my skin. 

It felt like something out of a vampire movie, I heard a whoosh and then a light thud. Elijah appeared, holding the man against the wall effortlessly with one hand and easily compelled the man to walk off and not commit any sort of crime again. I let out a few sobs as the pain sunk in and the adrenaline started to fade away.

Elijah swooped me into his arms, effortlessly taking me to his mansion and rested me down on his obnoxiously large bed. He crouched down, gently cupping my face in his hands, observing my facial features and swiftly disappeared somewhere before running back. 

"Are you okay?" He questioned, focusing on grabbing the things from the first-aid kit to treat my wounds. 

"I'm okay..." I whispered, hissing as he wiped an alcohol wipe across the graze on my palm and watched as he apologised profusely for inflicting any added pain onto me. Elijah was so attentive to my needs, he cleaned the blood and dirt away from my cuts and grazes. Covering them with bandaids, doing what he could to assist in caring for me. It was as he was lingering for a moment, observing my form that I realised that Elijah Mikaelson would never hurt me. He would never cause any harm to me, Elijah Mikaelson would protect me and I knew that I wouldn't need to worry any longer. 

"You wouldn't hurt me..." I whispered, staring at the vampire as he grasped my face and held eye contact with me. 

"Y/N L/N I would never dream of hurting you, you... you're perfect... Y/N you are the epitome of perfect, I haven't met someone as intelligent, kind, sweet, and funny in a long time. Y/N I love you and I hope that you'll allow-" I pushed myself closer to him, carefully cupping his face to kiss the man who had possessed my dreams too often. 

"Elijah, please, never let me go, I can't keep guarding myself-" 

"Shhh, I've got you." He kissed my forehead, pulling me into his arms and pushing himself to lay against the headboard of his bed. I inhaled, holding onto the warm and mesmerising smell of his cologne, I curled into his chest and hummed gently as he rested another kiss on my forehead. 

I felt protected, Elijah was my guardian angel, and he made me feel warm and gooey. Made me giddy and the butterflies a constant swarm in my belly, I fiddled with his hands, staring at the family ring that rested on his finger and glanced to him as he pulled my face to meet his. I hummed as he rested a kiss against my lips, sucking in another deep breath and curling in closer as he strokes my hair, his touch comforting and loving. 

"Can I stay here? Just in your arms? Where I'm safe and with you, you Elijah who looks after me and takes the time to listen and know me?" Elijah's smile made the butterflies come to life, my cheeks flushed red and his simple words reassured me for an infinity of time. 

"Always and forever." 

[multiple-fandomimagines]

[multiple-fandomimagines]

[multiple-fandomimagines]

Overstimulation

Label Mature 18+

Summary You ask Austin if overstimulation is real-he proves it.

🔗 Masterlist

❤️‍🔥Passionate Smut❤️‍🔥 Austin guiding you through a new experience • soft touch • lap sitting •edging •teasing in front of a mirror •sweet talk•clit play• fingering •orgasm•vibrator• nipple play• Austin pinning you in place •non penetrating stimulation •mind numbing orgasm• overstimulation•squirting • P in V in front of a mirror • multiple orgasms in a row•cream pie•after care

📖 Proofreader @purejasmine

Overstimulation

You’re curled up on the couch, a soft blanket draped over your legs, scrolling through your phone while Austin sits at the other end, flipping through a book. 

The room is peaceful, the quiet hum of your shared space broken only by the occasional turning of a page or the tap of your fingers against the screen.

You pause, biting your lip as you stumble across an article about overstimulation.

It’s intriguing, to say the least, and the heat rises in your cheeks as you skim through the details. Without thinking, you blurt out, “Is overstimulation really a thing?”

Austin looks up from his book, a slow grin spreading across his face. “It’s definitely a thing,” he says, setting the book aside and leaning back against the couch. His arms rest along the top of the cushions as he studies you. “Why?” He asks gauging your curiosity.

You shrug, but the way you avoid his gaze gives everything away. “I just… I don’t think I’ve ever experienced it—Like, I would know wouldn’t I.” You glance at him, your cheeks pink. “Because, um… it says here there’s squirting involved ? Or is that just, you know, exaggerated?”

Austin’s grin deepens as he looks at you in a way that makes your stomach flip. 

“Oh, it’s real,” he says, his tone laced with something deeper, something more knowing.

You bite your lip, your hand playfully nudging his thigh. “Okay, mister expert, you’re saying you know all about this? Then why haven’t you tried it on me?”

He leans in closer, his arm sliding over your shoulder as his voice drops intimately . “It’s a lot, baby—it’s intense,” he says, his hand stroking your arm softly, his touch affectionate and delicate. “It’s about giving yourself over again and again, even when you think you’ve got nothing left to give,” he continues, his eyes meeting yours, this time with a flicker of intrigue in their depths.

“I didn’t know you wanted to try something like this, baby,” he muses, his tone shifting as his blue eyes gleam with a mix of mischief and excitement.

Your eyes linger on his as you bite your lip, a deep longing for the experience flickering across your face. His gaze sharpens, narrowing in on your eagerness, and a slow smile spreads across his lips, as if he’s uncovering a side of you he’s never known before.

You’ve always known Austin is beyond your skill in the bedroom, he doesn’t even try to hide it. He doesn’t just touch you—he claims you, leaving you utterly undone and completely his. 

He’s so thorough and commanding that your passion together burns hotter than anything you ever thought possible. 

Every move he makes feels intentional, like he’s reading a hidden desire you didn’t even know you had. Even now the way he looks at you just hinting at what he can do makes your heart flutter.

The idea of taking this next step with him sends a nervous thrill through you, a mix of anticipation and nerves. 

You know this new level will be overwhelming, maybe even too much—but it’s Austin—You’d follow him anywhere, take anything he gives you, because with him, it’s always more than worth it.

“I want it,” you say softly, your voice barely audible but resolute. “I want it with you.”

Austin grins, his thumb brushing gently over your lower lip before leaning in to place a soft kiss. He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes never leaving yours, his excitement undeniable.

“Alright, come with me,” he says, his voice urgent yet affectionate as he takes your hands in his.

“Right now?” you ask in amusement, an excited smile spreading across your face.

He smirks, his blue eyes gleaming with playfulness as he pulls you from the couch. “It’s technically edging now if I don’t,” he teases, his lips curving into a grin.

You both smile as he leads you to the bedroom, the excitement between you charged with anticipation. 

Once inside, he releases your hand and goes to the corner of the room, pulling the full-length mirror into position in front of the bed. You tilt your head in confusion, watching as he begins to gather other items with purpose.

“Get undressed for me baby,” he says, focusing on his tasks and you slowly peel off your clothing as he moves to the bed, placing a soft towel and a sleek vibrator on the edge.

When he’s satisfied, he turns to you, his eyes lingering on every inch of your bare skin before meeting your gaze. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he smiles as his eyes wander your form with reverence, then he extends his hand. “Let me show you,” he says invitingly, his tone warm and affectionate.

You step closer, placing your hand in his, and he guides you down onto the bed with him. He sits back against the headrest, his knees apart, creating a space as he positions you gently in front of him on the soft towel.

“You said there is squirting involved,” he repeats, his voice filled with amusement as his hands slide around your waist. “I’ll talk you through it I promise” he says softly against your ear

He pulls you firmly against him, your back resting against his broad chest, both of you facing the mirror.

The contrast between you is striking, your bare skin flushed with anticipation, while he remains fully clothed in casual sweats and a tee. 

He smiles at you, his gaze deep and full of reassurance “You ready, baby?” he asks, his voice low and soothing, wrapping around you like a promise.

You nod, feeling a surge of excitement mingling with your nerves. “I’m ready,” you whisper, and his smile deepens.

His hands slowly slide down to your inner thighs, carefully spreading your legs wide open leaving you completely exposed.

Your gaze is locked on the mirror and he leans in pressing a kiss to your cheek as you both stare at the glistening arousal between your legs.

“You’re so perfect,” he praises, his gaze lingering on your reflection, his words making you feel cherished and desired in a way that sends a warmth through you, leaving you completely captivated.

He keeps one hand steady on your thigh, as the other begins teasing you with soft delicate strokes, his fingers grazing over your entrance with just enough pressure to send a shiver coursing through you.

Then his fingers ease effortlessly inside of you, drawing a soft gasp from you with every stroke as his thumb brushes lightly over your clit.

You can’t help but watch in the mirror as his face nestles against yours, his blue eyes focused on every subtle way your body responds to his touch as his hand moves faster between your legs.

Your head tilts back against his shoulder as the pressure builds, your body arching against him in response, the intensity of his fingers thrusting making it impossible to sit still.

“Stay with me baby,” he whispers, his words anchoring you as his touch drives you higher, unraveling every ounce of control you thought you had.

“Tonight is all about you,” he whispers, increasing his pace and stroking faster, the wet slick sounds becoming intense.

“I want you to see everything—he whispers, his gaze locked on your reflection.”— I want you to see how beautiful you are when you come for me,”

You nod fractionally, your face flushing pink, as his thrusting becomes relentless.

Your hips begin to writhe, resisting the overwhelming sensation, but he tightens his arm across your chest, pulling you firmly against him making you stay still.

“Stay with me, baby,” he whispers again, his voice low and steady as the intensity of his fingers threatens to consume you. “You’re doing so good for me,” he encourages, his tone soothing yet commanding.

Your breaths increase, your chest heaving as you try to endure.

You bite your lip, tears welling in your eyes as his fingers move faster stroking in a motion that feels unbearable and blissful all at once. 

You begin to softly moan, the sensitivity making you writhe in pleasure as your climax builds to a peak.

“That’s it, baby,” he praises with quiet intensity. “You’re so close, I can feel it”

Your mouth opens in a silent cry as his fingers move so fast they become a blur, each stroke sending a sharp jolt through your clit as your inner walls clench around them, the pressure so overwhelming you feel yourself begin to let go.

Your voice breaks with desperation as your orgasm crashes over you, your hips rocking against his hand as your body spirals out of control.

“That’s my girl,” he groans with approval, his voice steady as his fingers continue relentlessly. Your thighs tremble uncontrollably as he keeps going, driving you beyond the limits of what you thought you could take.

“Aus! Aus! Please —I can’t ” you whimper, your breath catching as the overwhelming sensations tear through you, making your body tremble against him.

“Keep going for me baby,” he urges , his voice filled with encouragement.

You moan in response, your wetness spilling from you, his fingers working with ruthless precision igniting every nerve in your body.

Your abs clench tight, your back arching as spasms ripple through you. The intensity of his touch leaves you shaking, your breath coming in shallow, desperate gasps as you clit throbs under the intensity.

“Austin—Aus! Please!” you cry, your voice breaking just as another orgasm tears through you, your head tossing back against his shoulder.

“I know, baby, I know,” he coos, his voice gentle and understanding as he finally pulls his hand away. “We’re going to make you an overstimulated mess tonight—just like you wanted.”

You hear the click of the vibrator and your nerves jump as he carefully presses it against your clit, the overstimulation taking hold as he keeps it steady.

You try to move away, but his arm is wrapped tightly across your chest, keeping you locked in place as your hips writhe helplessly against him.

“Just breathe, baby,” he whispers, his breath warm against your ear as you struggle to fight the overwhelming sensations threatening to consume you.

You practically scream as he presses the vibrator up and down steadily, the unrelenting vibrations making your legs fight to close. But he doesn’t let you, lifting his knees to keep them spread apart, holding you firmly in place.

You watch in the mirror as your hips rock involuntarily, your muscles clenching around nothing as you fight the urge to pull away from the unbearable ecstasy.

A desperate cry escapes your lips as he moves the tip of the vibrator down to your entrance, teasing you with just enough pressure to edge you, without pushing it inside where you need it the most.

Your entire body begins to cave in, consumed by the ache of how much you want it, your hips pushing instinctively, silently begging him, but he doesn’t relent.

“Not yet, baby,” he confirms, his voice low and knowing, encouraging you to give more.

Your eyes well with tears as your breath catches in your throat, the overwhelming sensations leaving you gasping.

“A-Aus,” is all you manage your voice shaking and barely audible. You can’t breathe, can’t think—all you can do is stay in his hold, your body completely overtaken as you begin to lose your mind. 

“We’re almost there, baby,” he promises, his voice low and steady, and his free hand moves to cup your breast.

As the vibrator moves up and down your clit, his fingers squeeze your nipple, drawing a pitiful squeal from your lips. Your hips jump involuntarily, revealing just how much you’ve soaked the towel beneath you.

“That’s it, baby, just a little more,” he says, pressing the vibrating tip against your entrance and holding it steady.

Your head tosses back as you begin to moan rocking your hips, your body overtaking your mind as you grind against nothing.

His hand kneads your breast, his fingers teasing and pulling at your nipple as your body begins to shake uncontrollably. 

Tears well in your eyes, spilling over as choked-off sobs fall from your lips, the overwhelming pleasure teetering you on the edge of insanity.

And then it happens—your body lets go completely, and everything around you fades. A numbing whiteness floods your mind, a pure, blinding sensation that feels like the world has fallen away. 

It’s as though someone has pressed the reset button, and you’re suspended in a state of raw, untethered euphoria, transcending  far beyond your physical limitations.

Then reality crashes back in—the loud, desperate sounds you’ve been making filling your ears as Austin holds your body steady against him. Your walls are throbbing so hard it feels like they’re touching an invisible force, each pulse sending waves of sensations through you.

“Baby you’re so perfect,” Austin praises, his voice filled with awe and satisfaction as his lips brush your ear. “That was so incredible. You’re so fucking beautiful ” he whispers as your body rolls through the aftershocks.

He cuts the vibrator and slowly eases his fingers into your slick entrance the sudden change of sensation making your breath catch. 

Your body trembles uncontrollably, torn between pulling away from the overwhelming ecstasy or pushing closer, caught in the exquisite torment of overstimulation.

“A-Aus-s,” you stutter, your voice breaking as his fingers slide in and out, the slick, thrusts making your breaths come out in panicked cries.

“Oh, baby, I know, I know, you were doing so well,” he whispers against your ear, his voice soothing and commanding. “But you haven’t squirted for me yet” he confirms his tone laced with determination.

A choked-off moan escapes your throat as he continues, his fingers thrusting in and out of you with relentless precision. 

You don’t even notice his hand move from your breast until you hear the vibrator click on again. 

The moment it touches your oversensitive clit a high-pitched whine escapes your lips, your body arching against him as the overwhelming sensation hits.

“Come on, baby— give me one more ” he coaxes, his voice low and thick with intent. “—soak my fingers this time.”

You let out a pitiful cry, your body quivering as the sensation threatens to overwhelm you.

He thrusts his fingers deep inside you, curling them perfectly as your walls tighten and pulse on every buzz of the vibrator against your clit.

You watch your reflection in the mirror, your cheeks flushed a deep pink, your lips parted as soft, broken moans spill out.

Austin’s eyes are locked on the way your body responds, every broken sound from your lips making him so aroused he can hardly concentrate.

“You’re making me so hard Baby,” he finally whispers, his voice breaking with need as his cock presses solid against your back.

You can barely register his words as he presses the vibrator up and down your clit as his fingers thrust in and out of you with an intensity that makes your legs begin to shake. 

“A-a-Austin,” you stammer, your voice breaking as your mind begins to go numb the overwhelming pleasure pushing everything else aside.

Your body squirms, your feet sliding against the bed as your hips push up instinctively, chasing the release you can’t hold back.

The world fades to white—everything feeling too good  all at once, the tingling in your core teetering on the edge of painful bliss. 

And then it happens

A sudden unstoppable stream of liquid squirts from you around his fingers, soaking his hand as he continues thrusting.

“Oh fuck you did so good for me Baby,” he praises, his voice low and filled with awe.

You can hardly breathe as he continues thrusting his fingers in and out.

You finally exhale in a broken moan, the relief of the most intense orgasm of your life coursing through you, rendering you senseless.

Your mind feels hazy, as though you’ve lost the ability to think or focus on anything but the repeated waves of pleasure coursing though you.

Austin clicks the vibrator off and slips his fingers up to your clit rubbing in small circles. “I need you baby” he says desperately, gently guiding you onto your knees in front of him.

He softly presses your chest down to the bed, positioning himself behind you as he lowers his sweats and lines himself up. 

You moan against the mattress as he easily settles into you with one slow paced thrust.

The fullness of him is overwhelming—a deep, consuming tightness that feels like too much and exactly what you need all at once, leaving your mind dazed in bliss.

He pulls back slowly, dragging his cock along your overstimulated walls, making you moan. Then he carefully pushes back in, the deep penetration sending a pulse through your body as you tremble under the intensity.

“Fuck Baby, oh fuck you feel so good,” Austin groans sliding his cock in and out feeling your walls clench down on him like a vice-grip. 

The overstimulation of his heavy thrusts sends shockwaves through your core, his groans blending with your loud cries as he drives you into ecstasy.

Your thighs tremble uncontrollably, your body shuddering beneath him as the rhythm of his thrusts builds with a steady purpose. His deep breaths and strained groans drive into your ears, his voice low and rough as he rasps, “That’s it, baby… take all of it.”

Your body shudders uncontrollably as a desperate moan tears from your lips and you orgasm with an intensity you’ve never known—a shock that ignites deep in your core, radiating outward in a wave so powerful that your body quivers as you gasp for breath.

Your climax triggers Austin’s, his deep groans filling the air as his thrusts falter. The sensation of his warm come flooding your walls sends you spiraling into another orgasm. 

He waits until your body no longer spasms, then he carefully pulls out, his hands steadying you as he lowers you gently onto the bed.

As you lay there, dazed, your limbs weak and utterly spent Austin doesn’t hesitate to care for you, his hand brushing damp strands of hair from your face as your senses slowly begin to return. 

He smiles at you affectionately, but only one thing is on your mind.

“It’s real,” you whisper, your voice hoarse.

“What’s real?” he asks, his brows furrowing with curiosity.

“Overstimulation, squirting, all of it,” you admit, your gaze locked onto his.

Austin lets out a low laugh then he reaches for you, laying back and pulling you onto his side. “Yeah, baby, of course it’s real,” he confirms, his hand stroking your back with tender affection.

Then his eyes turn mischievous as he smirks at you. “Do you want to do it again right now?”

“NO!” you almost shout, your voice hoarse but firm, making him chuckle deeply as he pulls you tighter in his arms.

“At least… not right now,” you admit.

“You should see what else I know,” he teases, his voice low and playful.

“Austin, I’m actually scared of what else you might know,” you admit resting your head against his chest with a grin.

His smiles softly as he kisses the crown of your head. “We can find out together,” he promises, his tone reassuring. 

You look up at him, exhaustion giving way as he holds you close.

“I’d like that,” you admit, your voice filled with sincerity. His arms tighten around you in response, his lips brushing softly against your hair as he smiles filled with contentment.

You knew this new level would be overwhelming, maybe even too much—but it’s Austin. You’d follow him anywhere, and take anything he gives you, because with him, it’s always more than worth it.

END 💦

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[multiple-fandomimagines]

Protector - Benny x Plus!Size Reader

A/N: possibly not the post most are waiting for. I've taken some time off writing too much, so I don't get burnt out 😅

I wrote this a week ago, and revised it today. Hopefully it's alright..

Previous: Insecurities, I Want All Of You (18+), Mini Dress (18+)

Warning/s: mention of fighting, possible spelling/grammar mistakes

Since being Benny's girl, you’ve only seen a sweet, caring side of him. How the man thinks of you, pushes you so that you can see how great you are. And you were slowly believing him. This man has a way of switching off the negative voice in your head. Along with other things he does with his hands, mouth and other appendage that turns off your brain completely.

Benny is the first and only man to make you feel seen and heard. When he watches you as you speak, it’s like the man is hanging on every word. Or how he walks confidently beside you, along with sitting with his arm around your shoulder or waist. He might come off as possessive, but it was Benny's way of keeping you safe. And he did everything to make sure you were safe and secure. As he says a man must look after, and protect what’s his.

Like right now, at a local car show. Johnny deciding the Vandal's would take a ride and make an appearance. The bikers weren’t warmly welcomed by the general public. But the other biker clubs acknowledged you all. Currently you were sitting with a bunch of the Vandal women on a blanket and deep conversation. You were all swapping stories and laughing. Yet your gaze would drift to Benny, as he stood with Johnny, Brucie and a few other Vandal's drinking and talking.

The way he stood there in those dirty white jeans of his, black t-shirt hanging off his upper body, and his denim vest sporting his colours. The way he would take a sip from his beer bottle while listening to whatever was being said, a deep blank look on his beautiful face. It caused butterflies to swarm your stomach, and a heat to light in your lower regions. How did you get so damn lucky? He chased you, you told yourself.

Of course after few of the women noticed your wondering eyes, they began to tease you about it. You of course blushed, embarrassed to have been called out. But it was all in good fun. That turned the conversation on you and Benny. You answered their questions as best you could. All you could confirm for them was that you and Benny were together, he treated you well and was pushing you out of your comfort zone.

You weren’t sure what happened or how it started, but the sound of yelling and then a tussle caught your ears. Kathy called your name as she pointed over to where Benny had been. Turning around you found where the noise was coming from, two men were throwing punches and on the ground. And one of those men was your Benny. Quickly you and the women got up, you moved fast to cross the space, before you could get too close Johnny put an arm out to stop you.

“Best not to get close, sweetheart” Johnny stated. “Let him get it out of his system, alright?”

You couldn’t say anything to that. All you could do was watch in shock as Benny whaling on a random guy, who looked to not even be a part of any biker club. Falling to the ground, both men rolled around before Benny got on top of him. The way he laid into the guy, fist after fist landing into the man’s face, shocked you. This was a new side of Benny, one you weren’t sure you liked. But you would wait to make your mind up after discussing it with him. You needed to know the context of why they ended up in a fight.

The next blow that Benny landed had a crack sound, which you guessed meant he’d broken the man’s nose. “T-this has to stop" you pleaded with Johnny. “I-I think he broke his nose".

Johnny, now getting concerned, called to Wahoo and Corky. He told them to separate the men on the ground. Both Vandal's moved quickly, Wahoo wrapping his arms under Benny's arms and pulled him back. While Corky checked the guy on the ground, happy to know he was breathing, he moved to help drag off a bucking Benny, desperate to get free. You looked to Benny, but went to check on the guy, at Johnny's request. As you were a nurse after all.

While beside the man, who was moaning and groaning, you could hear Benny calling out. You couldn’t make out what he was saying clearly, but from the sounds of it, it had something to do with you. Confused and unsure of the whole situation, you tended to the man. But he needed more medical attention then you could give, so you fixed him up enough so that his friends could get him to a hospital.

With that seen to, you slipped away to clean your hands and take a moment to wrap your head around as much of this as you could. Kathy went with you to the restrooms, saying she couldn’t believe that happened and wondered what caused it. You agreed, wanting to know what triggered Benny. With hands washed and feeling less frazzled, you both made your way back to the group, and Benny. Who was sitting on the grass, taking a swig of a beer Johnny had handed him.

Of course Johnny was talking to him, no doubt wanting to understand what happened. Yet Benny didn’t talk to him, he just sat there with this dark look upon his face. As you and Kathy drew closer, Benny looked to you. His stormy blues focused on you and you alone. Kathy noticed this and decided to head back to the girls, and you were fine with that. When you stepped up next to Johnny, the older man chose to leave the man on the grass in your hands.

And then it was just you two. You looked around, and fair number of eyes were looking to you both but mostly your man. They were whispering about what had happened, and this would only make the Vandal's less favoured. You got down and took a seat next to Benny, who watched you as he continued to drink. You could see how his knuckles were split and the blood almost dried, and would be bruise nicely. Along with his face, which already started to discolour. Spotting a water bottle and some cloth, no doubt from Johnny wanting Benny to clean his hands, you grabbed them both and made sure he could see you with them.

“Can I clean your knuckles, please?” Your voice was soft and calm, hoping it was soothing.

Benny didn’t say a word, just moved the bottle into his other hand while presenting you the first hand to clean. You tipped some water over the broken skin, blood and some grass washed away. You then dabbed the cloth over the split skin, gently you made sure it looked better than before. With that, Benny swapped hands and you did the same as what you’d just done. You wanted to say something, question him but were unsure of how to word it. Once done you put both items to the side, and then turned back to Benny.

“So...what happened back there?” You finally asked, first thing to come to mind.

Benny remained silent, brooding and acting like a wounded puppy.

You sighed. “Do you have anything to say?”

 Finally he spoke up, voice gruff and low. “He was asking for it”.

You blinked. “For a beat-up?”

“Yeah” he said like the most obvious thing in the world.

“Care to elaborate on what happened? Why you beat him up?” You watched Benny, studying his body language to your question. He sat there a little stiffly, almost a little embarrassed really.

He shrugged, muttering something you couldn’t hear.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that" you stated, looking at him in confusion.

Benny sighed. “He disrespected you" he began, putting down his beer bottle. “He walked past with his friend, he was lookin�� at you and made...comments about ya. They both laughed. I saw red, and...yeah, ya know the rest".

You slowly nodded, processing his words. “W-what did he say?”

Benny looked to you with wide puppy dog eyes, begging to not ask him that question. But you needed to know. What was it that made him beat the guy up so badly? Sure, you’ve heard most of the words people call you. But for Benny to snap like he did, it had to be bad, right?

“Baby, ya don’t need to know" Benny retorted.

“I know...but I want to know" you countered.

Once more he sighed, you could see it in his eyes. How he was fighting to keep it to himself. But you took one of his hands in yours, gently rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand. You told him it was fine, you could handle it.

Benny nodded. “He called you a whale...” you could hear the anger in Benny's voice. “And how you shouldn’t have been let out in public...how disgustin’ people like you were...” – he paused, calming himself before going on – “that any man who has ya would be, should be embarrassed. Because...a fat woman like you is an eyesore...”

It was silent between you both after that. You were processing what Benny recalled the guy saying. It wasn’t the first time you’d been called such a names, nor would it be the last. Yet you had never had such hate thrown at you. But after being around a bunch of people who have been so nice and accepting, it was a shock to hear such words. Benny removed his hand from your hold before wrapping his arm around you, drawing you to him. He kissed your temple, resting his lips there for a moment.

“He’s wrong, ya now that..." Benny muttered against your skin. “People like him are the worst...thinkin’ so terribly about others. They do it just to make themselves feel better".

You grasped his t-shirt and buried your face into his chest. Hearing Benny say that made your heart skip a beat. This man stood up for you, put a guy in hospital because of how cruel and disrespectful he had been to you. If you weren’t smitten by Benny before, you were now. He definitely was protecting what was his.

Pulling back you smiled up at your man, “thank you for standing up for me".

A mirroring smile formed on Benny's lips. “Always will for you, baby".

You moved closer, straightening up as you kissed his lips. Mindful of the forming bruises. Benny on the other hand, he didn’t care, he was the one to kiss you back tenfold. Yes, he was protective of you. You were his girl after all. No one would disrespect you, he’d make sure of it. Or else they’d meet his fists.

[multiple-fandomimagines]

Love Me Until I Love Myself - Benny Cross

summary: Y/N is insecure and benny finds a way to make her realize that she's worth everything

"— then I was thinking we could go for a ride. Wherever the bike takes us.", Benny said, glancing at you briefly. His fingers pinched the stained material of the menu, already picturing the two of you running away for the weekend. But you were distracted. You'd be all over the idea — the excitement would be evident.

"Y/N?", at the sound of your name, you turned your head to look at him and hummed. Your hand was supporting your chin as you took him in with raised brows. "For the weekend trip we usually do. This time, I thought we could just go with the flow?"

You nodded absentmindedly, your fingers brushing the menu in his hold. "Why not... So you takin' the smoothie with the fries or somethin' else today?", you asked slowly, aware of Benny's eyes burning on your face. He knew you weren't this unusually tired after a shift - you were never tired to hear about the adventures he had planned for the both of you.

Your finger pointed at the dish you had been looking for and showed it to Benny. "I want this.", Benny stilled, glancing your way again, yet decided to stop looking for answers in a blank canvas. You'd tell him when you were ready. He stood up and grabbed the menu, heading to the cashier to order food for the both of you. You leaned back and sighed, looking for a moment of stillness.

A giggle filled the air, making you glance up. It was the same group of girls that showed up at the exact time Benny would come pick you up from your shift. Sometimes they came in earlier, probably unaware of your schedule — but it was never to order anything. You knew they were there for him. Freshly blown hair twirled around manicured fingers, plump lips that let out little giggles — anything to catch his attention.

Benny placed the menu on the counter and pointed at the dish you wanted, the action making you smile a little. The waitress nodded and made her way into the kitchen and Benny took that opportunity to look at you. He shot you a quick smile, reserved for you and you only. You looked away as more insecurities made their way into your brain.

How could a man like that be with a person like me?

One of the girls whispered something in her friend's ear, the rest of them throwing glances at your Benny. Until one of them started walking towards him. Benny was leaning on his forearms, muttering something under his breath — having known him for a long time, you knew he was complaining about the speed of the service.

The pretty blonde tapped his shoulder, making him briefly flinch and turn to his right. You couldn't detach your eyes from what was unfolding in front of you. Would he join her? Would he leave you here all by your lonesome?

Benny realized it wasn't a familiar face and huffed. "You've got me confused with somebody else.", he said sternly and straightened up at the sight of the food being placed on the counter. "Thanks.", he muttered and pulled some cash out of his wallet. The blonde turned to her friends and gave them an exasperated look. He ignored her before she could even stutter a word.

"Waited hundred years for this.", Benny sat down and stole a fry from your plate. "It ain't that bad."

Your lips twitched at his comment, your fingers also grasping a fry. "Thanks, honey.", you dipped it in ketchup and brought it to your mouth. Benny kept informing you about your weekend plans - he was unusually talkative today - yet you couldn't shake off the little scene from before.

"Are you even listening to me?", his voice snapped you back to reality.

"Sorry, what?"

Benny huffed, gripping his drink and then raising his eyes to meet yours. "Did something happen at work? Did somebody do something? 'Cause I swear to—"

You sensed his anger and quickly interrupted him, gripping his forearm. "No, no, Benny. Nothin' happened at work, I promise.", you tried to reassure him as best as you could.

His gaze lowered. "I thought you liked them trips with the bike. Goin' where the road takes us...", the hints of insecurity made your heart clench. You wanted to slap yourself for making him doubt himself.

"No, baby—"

"Benny Cross?", your heads turned in the same direction, your grip on his arm faltering. It was the pretty blonde from earlier. Benny huffed, his eyes darting between you and her.

"Yeah, 's me.", he nodded and moved his attention to the drink in his hands. But your eyes remained on her, taking in her beauty, the self-doubt finally settling in. "You need something?"

The girl smiled at him and nodded. "Earlier, you said that I've got you mistaken for somebody else... I don't think I did. I'm Lilly.", another giddy smile took over her features.

Benny stilled, your pulse picked up and your lips parted. You felt his eyes on you, but you couldn't take your eyes off her. She was perfection, he was perfection. They belonged together. Not you and him. Just them. They—

"Can't you see I'm with my girl here?", he grasped your hand and squeezed it, the girl's eyes finally moved on you, acknowledging you after minutes of gawking at him.

"Oh.", she couldn't hide the disappointment in her voice. "Thought that was your sister."

Your cheeks heated up, the feeling of awkwardness and embarrassment too much to handle right now. Especially in the presence of two beautiful people. You stood up, both set of eyes on you, but you couldn't look at any of them anymore.

Letting go of a shaky breath, you tried to stand your ground. "I, uh, I gotta go... I'll see you later?", you nodded quickly and walked out of the café, utterly mortified at your spontaneous reaction.

Benny was sat there, brows furrowing in confusion at what just happened. Did you know the girl? Why did you react that way?

He cleared his throat. "Listen, Lizzy, you talk to me again and you'll regret it, alright?", and without adding anything else, Benny walked out of the café as well. His fingers twitched in desperate need of a cigarette. He looked around and you weren't there, making him groan. There was a reason as to why he picked you up every day and one of them was the reputation of this particular neighborhood.

His mind created every possible scenario, his eyes darting around and his lips muttering curses under his breath. Until he caught sight of you. You were sitting on some stairs, your hands covering your face and your figure shaking a little. You were crying.

The Vandal hesitated, not used to this emotional state, yet he approached you nevertheless. "Hey.", he murmured loud enough for you to hear. He took a seat beside you and wordlessly wrapped an arm around your shoulder. His eyes took in the texture of your soft hair, the chipped nail polish and at the trail that your tears left on your cheeks.

Beautiful.

"Baby?", no response came from you, so he decided to wait until you cried it out. Several moments later, your body stopped shaking and your hands found home on your lap, as you were pressed against Benny's body. His knuckle dared to brush your cheeks softly, trailing to your chin, raising it up gently.

He noticed your eyes were closed, a few tears collected on your eyelashes. His knuckle lightly brushed your lips and then he leaned in, kissing you with the gentleness only he could master. You forgot what you were so upset about for a hot minute.

His lips separated from yours sooner than you wished for, but your eyes finally opened, gazing into his deep blue ones. "I'm sorry.", you murmured, shaking your head.

"I just wanna understand, baby.", Benny Cross wasn't known for being a patient man, yet the way he was trying for you was truly admirable. Your heart ached at the hurt in his tone.

"It's just one of those days...", your eyes lowered and your hands fiddled with the zip of his leather jacket. "Where nothing is right and everything I do is wrong."

Benny hummed, nodding. "Does that girl have anything to do with that?", your moments stopped at his words, knowing that the only solution was being honest.

"She's pretty...", was what you could muster, feeling the embarrassment all over again. Benny's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What the hell did that have to do with anything?

"I thought you stormed out 'cause she called you my sister.", his words made you shift uncomfortably.

"Well, that didn't help either.", Benny shook his head and took a good look at you. A beautiful woman like yourself was insecure?

"Baby... Goddamn, I-I've never met anyone like you.", he said honestly and you turned his way, raising your eyebrows at him. "I mean it. You think I'd plan trips with anybody? And on my bike?", his words about the heartfelt love for his bike made you chuckle.

"It's just... You could do so much better than me, Benny.", you shook your head at your trembling words. Right as you said them, his hand moved forward and squished your cheeks together.

"I know what's good for me, thanks for looking out for me, baby.", he said and placed a bruising kiss on your lips. He knew that being too gentle with you wasn't going to have its effect on you. You needed some aggressive love and he was ready to hand it to you.

"Your hair, your eyes, your smile, your bad jokes are what I'm in for—"

"My jokes ain't bad—"

"And you don't get to tell me that I deserve better, 'cause there ain't nobody better than you.", his stern tone made you tear up and sniffle. "You're my girl and you're the most amazing person I've ever met.", his grip on your face faltered, your lips pouting at the sweetness of his words.

"Benny..."

He grazed your cheek. "I'll show ya how beautiful you are once we come home.", the familiar warmth made its way on your cheeks, your eyes dared to look away. "I mean it, Y/N. You're everything."

And you believed him.

A/N: I can´t seem to be able to write anything happy these days 😫 hope you still enjoyed xx

MASTERLIST benny masterlist

austin butler phone case 🌼

[multiple-fandomimagines]

Faking It

During sex, you fake an orgasm causing Logan to spiral. Once he confronts you about it, he wants to prove he can make you feel good without faking it.

logan howlett x fem!reader - established relationship, no reader description, no y/n used, faking an orgasm, self-loathing logan, slight angst, imagined worst logan but this gives dofp!logan too, vibes, smut, feral logan, p in v sex, oral, fingering, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, creampie 

a/n: idea from @yxtkiwiyxt - it ate away at my brain and being on my period really caused this to be born

divider credit: @enchanthings

Logan could feel everything. Every shift in your body, every flicker in your expression, every whispered contradiction between what you said and felt. He didn’t just sense when you lied—he absorbed it, like static in the air before a storm.

Now, with your body beneath his, every nerve in him was attuned to you. The heat of your skin pressed against his, the rhythmic creak of the mattress, the broken gasps you offered him—it was intoxicating. Yet it wasn’t enough. Something was off.

The faint furrow of your brow was his first clue. At first, he thought it was pleasure, that delicious kind of tension that came right before you unraveled. But then he felt the subtle stiffness in your thighs, the shallow way you breathed, and a flicker of doubt crackled through his chest. The feral part of him that craved, that demanded—urged him forward, driving him to thrust harder, deeper, desperate to coax something real out of you. He growled low in your ear, his voice rough with need.

“C’mon, pretty girl… make a mess for me,” he rasped, his teeth grazing the delicate line of your jaw.

You whimpered, but it wasn’t the sound he was chasing. And when the moan came—high-pitched, trembling, but hollow—it hit him like a cold slap to the face. It wasn’t real. He knew it wasn’t real.

His hands tightened on your hips as frustration swirled with something darker, something that felt too close to shame. His feral side snarled inside him, demanding he keep going, demanding release, and for one selfish, fleeting moment, he gave in. He pushed through, riding the edge until he spilled into you with a broken groan, collapsing onto the bed beside you as his chest heaved.

The room felt too quiet after, too still. Your fingers trailed idly over his chest, your touch soft and featherlight, but Logan’s body felt stiff beneath your hand. He turned his head, searching your face in the dim light, and when you offered a lazy smile, it was like glass shattering in his chest.

“I make you feel good, gorgeous?” he asked, his voice low and soft, though he wasn’t sure why. Maybe he didn’t want to hear the answer.

“Uh-huh,” you murmured, snuggling closer to him like it was nothing. Like the lie wasn’t still hanging heavy in the air between you.

Logan wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t oblivious. That tiny, fake little moan echoed in his ears, replaying like a bad song on repeat. And it hurt. God, it hurt. He’d been in your bed, in your body, but not once had he felt like he was truly with you. Not tonight.

Still, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there as his thoughts churned. He held you close, feeling your breathing slow as sleep crept in, and though his arms tightened around you protectively, his mind refused to rest.

Why had you faked it? Was it him? Something he’d done—or something he hadn’t done? Did you not trust him enough to tell him? The questions coiled in his gut, twisting and knotting until frustration and hurt blurred together in a haze of anger. And yet, despite the heat crawling under his skin, he couldn’t bring himself to wake you. Not now. 

This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. Logan didn’t let things go easily—especially not when it came to you.

But figuring out how to bring it up? That wasn’t his strong suit. For a whole day, he sat on it, the frustration gnawing at him like a splinter buried too deep to pull out. He replayed every moment in his head: the way your body tensed, the way your fake moan had grated against his ears, the way you had smiled afterward like nothing had happened. By the time the sun had begun to set again, the weight of it had him wound so tight it felt like a rubber band about to snap. And, unfortunately for Wade, Logan’s rubber band tended to snap loudly.

The bar was dimly lit, its usual haze of stale beer and cigarette smoke clinging to the air. Logan sat nursing a whiskey he’d barely touched, his mood written all over his face. Wade, of course, was oblivious—or maybe just ignoring it. He leaned on the counter beside Logan, rambling on about some escapade Logan hadn’t bothered to keep track of. His jaw clenched tighter with every passing second until Wade finally poked the wrong bear.

“You’ve been pissy all day,” Wade said, squinting at Logan like he was examining a strange animal. “Let me guess, you finally found someone who doesn’t think your claws are sexy? Or—oh, wait—” Wade’s face lit up with a spark of mischief. “You’re telling me you couldn’t make your girlfriend orgasm?”

Logan stiffened.

“Oh, peanut,” Wade gasped dramatically, clutching his chest like he was genuinely heartbroken. “Say it ain’t so! The big bad Wolverine, all growls and muscles, and—nothing? Nada? No fireworks?”

Logan’s hand slammed down on the bar, the sound sharp enough to make a few heads turn. He rounded on Wade, eyes blazing, his voice a low, dangerous growl. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talkin’ about, so maybe shut your damn mouth before I shut it for you.”

Wade blinked, and there was a beat of silence—a rare occurrence for him. But it lasted all of two seconds before his lips quirked into a grin. “Ohhhh, I hit a nerve, didn’t I? Don’t worry, champ, it happens to the best of us. Well, not to me, obviously, but—”

“Wade.” Logan’s tone cut through the air like a blade. The room seemed to drop a few degrees as Logan pushed himself up from the barstool, his knuckles white against the edge of the counter. Wade threw up his hands in mock surrender.

“Alright, alright! Geez, no need to go full Wolverine on me.” Wade stepped back, but not without muttering under his breath, “Touchy subject, huh?”

Logan ignored him. He grabbed his jacket and stormed out of the bar, his mind racing. Wade might be an idiot, but even idiots could land a hit when they weren’t aiming. The truth was, the jab had struck too close to home. He didn’t care about the idea of failure, not really—not when it came to anyone else. But with you? It felt like a crack in something he hadn’t even realized was fragile.

When Logan got back to your shared space, you were curled up on the couch, your feet tucked under you as you watched TV. The sight of you—so calm, so untouched by the storm that had been raging inside him all day—made something snap loose in his chest. He couldn’t keep it in any longer.

“Can we talk?” His voice was gruff, but quieter than you expected, almost hesitant.

You glanced up, surprised. “Of course. What’s wrong?”

Logan ran a hand through his hair, pacing a little before settling on the edge of the coffee table in front of you. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs, his gaze fixed on the floor. “Last night,” he started, his voice strained. “Somethin’ was off. I know it. You know it. And I can’t stop thinkin’ about it.”

Your stomach twisted, guilt pooling in your chest. “Logan, I—”

“You faked it,” he said bluntly, cutting to the heart of it. His eyes finally lifted to meet yours, and the vulnerability there nearly knocked the wind out of you. “Why?”

The word hung in the air between you.

You swallowed hard, turning the TV off and shifting in your seat. “It wasn’t you,” you said quickly, wanting to get that part out first. “I mean, it wasn’t because of you. It’s… me.”

His brow furrowed, and he leaned back slightly, his arms crossing over his chest as he studied you. “What does that mean?”

You took a deep breath, your hands twisting in your lap. “I’ve been in my head lately,” you admitted. “I’ve been… struggling. With work, with stress, with feeling like I’m enough. And I guess last night, I just—” You hesitated, looking away. “I didn’t want you to feel like you weren’t enough. So I faked it.”

Logan stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he exhaled a low sound that was more frustration with himself than anything else. “Darlin’,” he said, his voice softer now. “You don’t have to fake anything with me. Ever.”

“I know,” you whispered, your throat tight. “I just… I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“Disappoint me?” Logan’s voice sharpened, and he leaned forward again, his hands reaching out to take yours. “You think that’s what this is about? I don’t care about some… performance. I care about you. And if somethin’s wrong, I wanna know. I wanna fix it, not pretend it doesn’t exist.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you gave a small nod. “I’m sorry,” you murmured.

He shook his head. “Don’t be sorry. Just… tell me when something’s wrong, okay?” His thumbs brushed over your knuckles, his voice softening again.

You managed a small smile, squeezing his hands. “Okay.” 

Logan’s lips brushed your forehead before he pulled you into his arms. His touch was warm, and grounding, but there was something beneath it—something deliberate. His hands settled on your hips like he was afraid you might pull away.

“Now,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, “let me make you feel good.”

You tilted your head back to look at him, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “Logan, you don’t have to do that. I’m fine—”

He cut you off with a shake of his head, his thumb brushing over the curve of your waist. “No, you’re not,” he said plainly, his tone gruff but tender. His eyes met yours, intense and unwavering, and his lips quirked into a faint smirk. “You’re stressed. I can see it. I can feel it.”

Your breath hitched as his hands slid down your arms, calloused fingertips trailing a path that sent shivers racing across your skin. “Let me take care of you,” he said, his voice softer now, more coaxing.

And honestly? There was no denying it. The idea of Logan worshipping your body—of losing yourself in the way he always seemed to know exactly what you needed—was too tempting to resist. You swallowed hard, your lips parting slightly as his gaze dropped to your mouth.

“I mean…” You tried to keep your voice steady, but it wavered as his hands slid lower, settling on the backs of your thighs. “If you insist…”

Logan let out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling in his chest. “Oh, I insist,” he drawled, his grip tightening just enough to make your stomach flip. Before you could process the thought, he was lifting you with ease, his strength as effortless as it was intoxicating.

The world tilted as he carried you to the bed, his movements slow and deliberate. He laid you down with a kind of reverence that made your chest ache, his broad frame hovering over you. His lips found the delicate curve of your neck, and your breath hitched as he kissed his way down, the scrape of his stubble sending sparks skittering across your skin.

By the time his hands found the waistband of your underwear, you were already melting under his touch. He peeled them off slowly, his eyes darkening as they roamed your bare skin. “You’re so damn beautiful,” he muttered, almost to himself, his voice thick with desire.

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words dissolved into a soft gasp as his lips trailed lower, his mouth hot and insistent against your collarbone. His hands gripped your hips, grounding you as he shifted lower, and the anticipation coiled in your stomach like a live wire.

“Logan,” you whispered, his name slipping from your lips like a plea.

He glanced up at you, his smirk returning as he settled between your thighs. “Relax, darlin’,” he murmured, his hands spreading your legs with deliberate care. “Let me take my time with you.”

The first press of his mouth was soft and exploratory, but it didn’t stay that way for long. Logan was nothing if not thorough, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate strokes that left you breathless. He watched your every reaction, the flicker of his eyes on you making it clear he was entirely in control—but completely devoted to you.

Your hands tangled in his hair as the tension inside you built, his name falling from your lips in broken whispers. He hummed against you, the vibrations making you arch into him, and he responded by gripping your hips tighter, holding you in place as he worked you closer and closer to the edge.

And when you finally came undone, shuddering and gasping beneath him, Logan didn’t stop. He didn’t even slow.

“Logan,” you gasped, your voice trembling as your body shook with aftershocks.

“Not done with you yet, pretty girl,” he rasped, his voice low and gravelly. His lips curved into a wicked grin, and before you could catch your breath, he dipped his head again, his mouth finding you with renewed purpose.

Time blurred after that, the world narrowing to the feel of him, the sound of him, the way he seemed utterly consumed by the act of worshipping every inch of you. By the time he finally let you catch your breath, your body was boneless, your mind a haze of blissful exhaustion.

Logan crawled up the bed, his lips brushing over your temple as he pulled you into his arms. His hands, still warm and steady, skimmed over your back, grounding you in the aftermath of it all.

“Better?” he asked, his voice soft now, full of quiet satisfaction.

You let out a shaky laugh, burying your face in his chest. “You could say that,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his skin.

Logan chuckled softly as he kissed the top of your head. His hand rested against the small of your back, fingers tracing lazy circles on your skin. “Good,” he murmured, his tone laced with smug satisfaction but dripping with affection. “Told you I’d take care of you.”

You nodded weakly, still catching your breath, your body feeling boneless in the aftermath of his touch. Every nerve was still humming, your chest rising and falling as you tried to steady yourself. But then you felt it—a shift in the air, a change in the weight of the bed as Logan leaned forward.

Your eyes fluttered open just in time to see the smirk tugging at his lips, his hazel eyes glinting with mischief. He hovered above you, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off his body.

His lips brushed over yours in a soft kiss making your heart stutter. “Logan,” you whispered, your voice barely above a whimper.

“I know,” he replied, his breath warm against your lips. “But I’m not done with you yet.” His voice was a low growl, rough edges softened by something tender and utterly consuming. “I just want to make you feel so good.”

You let out a breathless laugh, your head sinking back into the pillows. “You did, Logan. I promise—”

He cut you off with a smirk, the curve of his lips playful and dangerous. “Okay, then,” he drawled, his tone dropping to something darker, something that sent a shiver down your spine. “If you’re good, I want to hear you whimper my name.”

Before you could protest—or agree—his hand slid down your body, his touch slow and deliberate. His calloused fingertips brushed over your stomach, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, before they dipped lower, tracing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

Your breath hitched, your body instinctively arching toward him as his hand moved closer, teasing and torturously slow. Logan’s gaze never left yours, and the intensity in his eyes made your pulse race.

“Logan…” you moaned softly, his name slipping from your lips like a reflex as his fingers finally slid between your thighs.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice a deep rumble of satisfaction. His touch was firm but unhurried, exploring you with a focus that made your head spin. His thumb moved in a way that had your legs trembling, and when his fingers pressed exactly where you needed them, your back arched off the mattress, a gasp spilling from your lips.

“God, you’re perfect,” he muttered, almost to himself, as if he couldn’t quite believe the way you were unraveling beneath him. His free hand gripped your hip, holding you steady as he worked you closer and closer to the edge, the tension coiling tighter with every stroke.

You couldn’t think, couldn’t speak—all you could do was feel. Logan was relentless, his lips brushing against your neck, your collarbone, and your shoulder, leaving a trail of kisses that made your skin tingle. He alternated between soft and demanding, his touch a perfect balance of control and devotion.

“Logan,” you whimpered again, your voice breaking on the syllable as the pressure built impossibly high, teetering on the edge of something devastatingly good.

“There it is,” he rasped, his voice thick with desire, his lips ghosting over your ear. “That’s my girl.”

The words sent a jolt of heat straight through you, and with one more perfectly placed movement of his hand, you shattered. Your body arched into him as pleasure crashed over you, wave after wave, his name tumbling from your lips like a prayer.

Logan didn’t stop right away—he worked you through it, his hands steady, his lips murmuring quiet praises against your skin as you rode out the high. By the time the tremors subsided, you were trembling, your body utterly spent.

He finally pulled his hand away, his touch leaving a trail of warmth in its absence. Logan leaned down, brushing his lips over yours in a kiss. 

“Still with me, darlin’?” he asked, his voice soft, his smirk replaced with something gentler as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

You managed a weak nod, your body still buzzing, and Logan chuckled, the sound warm and rumbling.

“Good,” he murmured, pulling you into his arms. His hand slid up your back, holding you close as your head rested against his chest. “Because I think you’ve got one more in you.”

You let out a breathless laugh, your cheeks flushing. 

“What?” Logan murmured, his smirk teasing and wicked as he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your temple. His breath was warm against your skin, and the way his lips lingered made your stomach twist with anticipation. “Told you, I’m not done with you yet.”

Before you could reply, his hands began their slow descent, tracing the curves of your body with deliberate care. His palms were warm and rough, gliding over your hips and your thighs. Every touch felt like a promise he had no intention of breaking.

“Logan…” you started, but your words dissolved into a shaky exhale as his fingers found the sensitive spot just above your knee, kneading gently before sliding higher.

He shifted above you, his movements unhurried, his gaze dark and hungry as he took in the sight of you sprawled beneath him. “You can take it,” he whispered, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine.

You watched as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his sweatpants, the fabric slipping down his hips in one fluid motion. The sight of him, the sheer confidence in how he moved, made your breath catch. He tossed the pants aside without a second thought, his smirk deepening as he leaned back over you, his body heat radiating against your skin.

“Give me one more,” he murmured, his lips brushing over the shell of your ear. His tone was soft but commanding, his words rolling over you like a wave, pulling you under.

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up, though it was breathless, tinged with disbelief at his sheer audacity. “I thought this was supposed to be about me feeling good,” you teased, your voice light, though your heart was pounding.

Logan’s lips quirked into a lopsided grin, but his eyes burned with intent. “Oh, it is,” he drawled, his hand sliding down to grip your thigh, pulling you flush against him. “But I’m pretty damn sure you’ll feel real good giving me what I want.”

The heat in his gaze sent a fresh rush of anticipation coursing through you, and you felt your teasing resolve falter. His fingers trailed over your skin, mapping every inch of you as if he were committing it to memory. When he shifted lower, pressing his lips to your collarbone, then to the soft curve of your breast, his mouth was hot and insistent, each kiss drawing soft gasps from your lips.

You barely had time to process the way his teeth grazed over your skin, sending sparks skittering down your spine, before his hips pressed against yours, his body slotting against yours perfectly. His movements were slow at first like he was savoring every reaction he pulled from you.

Then Logan whispered, husky and dripping with that dark, primal edge, “I want you to feel it everywhere, darlin’—every inch, every second. No faking this time.”

Your breath hitched, the intensity in his voice making your head spin, your body arching into him in a silent plea. Logan’s lips curved into a knowing smirk against your skin. His hands were everywhere—gripping, teasing, worshiping—making it impossible to think, let alone resist the pull of him.

As his mouth found yours, the kiss was all-consuming with the addictive mix of dominance and tenderness only Logan could manage. You clung to him, your hands sliding over the planes of his back, your nails digging in just enough to make him groan against your lips.

“You feelin’ good yet?” he teased, his voice low and rough, thick with need. His lips hovered over yours, close enough that you could feel the heat of his breath, but not quite touching, a maddening taunt that sent a fresh wave of anticipation rolling through you.

Your fingers curled against his shoulders, desperate to ground yourself as his pace shifted. He moved deeper, his hips rolling in a way that made your back arch off the bed, a gasp tumbling from your lips before you could stop it. The deliberate rhythm he’d kept moments ago began to unravel, his movements growing more intense, more insistent.

“Logan,” you whimpered, his name spilling from your lips like a prayer, shaky and breathless.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he growled, his voice rumbling in his chest like a distant storm. His lips brushed over your jawline, leaving a trail of heat as they trailed down to the sensitive spot just below your ear. When his teeth grazed your skin, a soft cry escaped you, your body tightening beneath him.

He groaned low, the sound vibrating against your neck, as your nails dug deeper into the muscles of his back. “So good for me,” he murmured, his voice thick with praise.

Your response came in broken gasps and soft whimpers, your head falling back as the sensations overwhelmed you. Each thrust was deliberate, calculated, but they grew harder, deeper, until your body melted into the mattress, pliant and trembling under him.

The tension in your stomach coiled tighter, white-hot, and electric until it felt like you might come undone. You couldn’t think, speak—could barely even hold on—your body responding to him instinctively, as though it were made just for this.

“Look at me,” Logan rasped, his voice pulling you back to him. Your eyes fluttered open, dazed, to find his gaze locked on yours, burning and unrelenting. “That’s it, pretty girl. I want to see you.”

His hips pressed into you again, hitting the spot so devastating that your eyes rolled back and a broken cry escaped your lips. You clung to him, your body trembling as pleasure surged through you, raw and overwhelming. His name spilled from your mouth in a whisper, soft and reverent, and it only seemed to spur him on.

“Good girl,” he muttered, his voice rough and frayed, his movements driving you higher and higher. “Just like that.”

When you finally broke, the world seemed to splinter apart, the sensation crashing over you in waves so intense you could hardly breathe. Your body arched into his, your thighs shaking as your release consumed you, dragging you under.

Logan slowed, his touch gentler now as you trembled in his arms. He pressed soft kisses to your neck, shoulder, and temple, breathing heavily and unevenly against your skin.

“You okay?” he murmured, his voice softer now, warm and teasing as his lips ghosted over yours.

You managed a weak nod, your body still thrumming with the aftershocks, and he chuckled, his breath tickling your cheek.

“That’s my girl,” he said, his tone low and full of quiet pride. He tucked you closer against him, his arms wrapping around you protectively, and you let yourself melt into his warmth, utterly spent but completely safe in his embrace.

[multiple-fandomimagines]

Look Who's Jealous Now - Benny x Reader

A/N: I was surprised by the amount of interest in the sneak peak I posted got. Thank you all!! Forgive any grammer or spelling mistakes 😅

Previous part: Jealousy Does Look Good On You 😊

Also, I posted this challenge. Feel free to check it out and make a request 😊😊

Tag list: @strayrockette @thegabbyh

Being Benny's girl meant being by his side, arm around you or his jacket. His stormy blue eyes seeking you out in the bar, sparkling when finding you sitting with Kathy or other Vandal women. Him picking you up after work. And taking you for rides on his bike.

Which led to today's Vandal ride. A group of you going to a car show. Those that didn't ride, gave the bikers looks of disgust or distaste. All the while, other biker clubs gave some sign of recognition. You found it all fascinating, how bike owners and car owners didn’t get along. But there were a few exceptions.

You were sitting on a blanket with a few other women, Benny was standing near by with Johnny in conversation. Both men drink in hand and laughing at something Johnny said. You smiled at your man, admiring the boyish smile on his face, or when he'd laugh. Then those eyes were looking at you, as if he'd felt your gaze on him. Benny gave you a soft warm smile, which had you melting.

“Give it a rest, will ya" jested Betty, pushing your shoulder.

Braking eye contact with Benny, you looked back to the older woman, as well as Kathy and Gale as they laughed at you. After that night a month ago, hearing what happened with Benny after you took off. The women had teased you on and off. And every time you and Benny gave each other the goo-goo eyes, one of them told you to give it a rest. You couldn't help it, you were in the early stages of this relationship.

“Sorry my happiness offends ya" you retorted sticking your tongue out.

Once more the women laughed, this time you joined in with them. You felt light and happy. From both the women around you, but also because of Benny. If someone had told you a month ago this was what was install for you, you wouldn’t have believed them. Right now you were happy, even if the road to get here was crazy.

Benny watched how you laughed with the other women. Smiling happily that you were having a good time. For him this month has felt like being on the open road, content and freeing. Finally making you his girl made him feel complete. But also, part of him still felt bad for upsetting you that night. It wasn’t his intentions when being around Angela. But he didn’t feel bad for using her to bait your outburst. He liked that you’d been jealous, made him feel good to know you wanted him, just as much as he wanted you.

“Stop it with the goo-goo eyes, will ya” Johnny said with a roll of his eyes, bringing Benny’s attention back to the older man. “Ya makin’ me sick, kid”. He joked with a laugh.

Benny laughed, sticking his free hand in his jeans pockets. “Whatever old man".

Johnny smile warmly at the younger Vandal. “Nuh, I’m happy for ya, both of ya. It was ‘bout time ya made her ya girl. You’d both been tippy-toein’ around it".

Benny felt embarrassed hearing those words. Because it was true. But you were different to all the other girls – women – for Benny didn’t want to show off and take you just on a ride of his bike. That would have been to easy. That’s why he spent the time with you, talking with you. He wanted to know you. And he did. But then he got nervous and somewhat shy to ask you out. He found himself second guessing himself.

Benny told you that, opening up to you as best her could. And since then you have done everything to reassure him that you wanted him. If you could tell Benny was starting to doubt or second guess himself, you’d be there, doing everything to show him he was good enough or right. Then when it came to you, Benny was pushing you out of your comfort zone also. The best example of that was when you’d ride with him. He’d go so fast on the open road that you would be cursing, telling him to slow down. But he’d always say you’ve got nothin' to worry about sweetheart, I won’t let anythin' happen to ya. And you would believe him. You always will.

“Yeah...she’s really somethin'" Benny said with pride, his eyes going back to you.

You got up from your spot on the blanket, along with Kathy. You both needed to use the restroom. The short walk was filled with conversation and laughter. Kathy being one of the women you were closest too. You thought she was nice and honest, no beating around the bush with her.

After doing what you both had too, you began to walk back to the others, only taking your time to look at the cars in passing. Neither of you knew much to do with cars, but you admired their looks.

“Such a nice colour" Kathy commented on the current car you were both looking at.

You nodded. “It really is, bet she sounds good too".

“You should see her on the road" came a familiar male voice from behind you.

You turned around in shock to see your old family friend Victor. You smiled brightly, taking in how he had changed since you had seen him last, which was before he went back to college. He looked fitter, and tanner. No doubt from playing football. He was the boy next door mixed with jock.

“Victor! My gosh!” You said with amazement, before moving to give him a quick hug. “How have ya been?”

Victor laughed as he hugged you back. You stepped back and looked at him with amazement. Remembering Kathy by your side, you apologized and introduced the two. Victor shook Kathy’s hand with a warm smile, as he said hello. Kathy looked between you too, finding it all to amusing to see you both reuniting.

Unfortunately for you, someone else had been watching. Benny had seen you and Kathy making your way back, but stopping to admire different cars. He smiled at how cute you were. He was making his way to you when he saw the athletic young man step up. And then watched the surprise on your face before you both shared a brief hug.

It left a sour taste in Benny’s mouth, seeing you smile and talk to this guy. And usually he’d find your sheepishness cute – when it’s aimed at him – but he strongly disliked it when it came to this guy. He asked himself who was this guy, anyways?

Slowly Benny crept forward, catching the end of whatever you’d been saying to Kathy.

“...our families have been so close, especially after Victor" – so that’s his name, Benny thought – “and my brother played together on the football team. Guess you went on to play college ball, huh?” You softly laughed, looking to Victor.

Yep, Benny didn’t like this guy. He did not like the preppy look of him. And he really didn’t like how you were all smiles and giddy. Dare he say, Benny Cross was jealous of the guy you were with? Yes, a hundred percent he was.

Stepping up to you, as your back was to him, Benny put his arm around you. Drawing you close before putting a kiss to your temple, all the while staring down Victor. “Hey sweetheart" he greeted with his deep voice.

You jumped before realising who it was. Relaxing, you turned to Benny with a bright smile. Leaning up to place a peck to the corner of his lips. “Hey".

Once you moved your head back you noticed that Benny’s gaze was focused on Victor, his eyes drawn in and sharp on the young male. Whom was standing there looking at Benny, with a smile upon his face, not a care in the world. You shot Kathy a confused look, which she shrugged at. Though you both could feel some kind of tension between the two males.

“Ah, I think I’ll head back” Kathy slowly said, deciding to remove herself from the situation.

You shot her a sour look before she took off. Leaving you with the two males from and in your life. Neither male looked away from the other. You guessed Benny was staking his claim to you, as he probably didn’t know who Victor was. And Victor, being like a big brother, was working out if Benny was good enough.

“Well...” you said clearing your voice. “Benny, this Victor, an old friend to my family. Victor, this Benny, my boyfriend".

You looked a little shock after calling Benny your boyfriend. That word never leaving your lips before. Sure, you’d called him it in your head. You felt a warmth rise in your chest after voicing what Benny was to you. As you were known as Benny’s girl. With a silly smile upon your face you turned to your boyfriend, placing a hand on his chest. Which seemed to get Benny’s attention.

Looking to you, he was greeted to the sight of you smiling up at him. Seeing that silly smile warmed his heart, almost making him forget the man who’d hugged you. He could see a twinkle in your eyes, like something perked you up more. Whatever it was, Benny liked it and always wanted you be like this.

Victor cleared his throat. “It’s nice to meet you".

Both you and Benny turned to face Victor. “Yeah, nice to meet ya". That pointed looked back on Benny's  face as he looked to the man before him.

Victor nodded his head. “Well, as I mentioned before, this car" – he moved to stand by his car – “is amazing on the road. I’ll have to take you for a ride, hey cupcake".

You rolled your eyes at the old nickname, but bashfully smiled. “Vic...not that nickname. Let it die, please”.

Victor laughs at your words. “I will never let it go, cupcake”.

You moved forward and swatted Victor’s arm, making him laugh more. And then you laughed as well. All the while Benny watched the playfulness between you too, and not liking it one bit. Especially when Victor put his hand on your arm, holding firmly to stop you once and for all. The way this guy looked at you, the familiarity and warmth. It was off putting for Benny. This guy, even if he’s an old family friend, having his hand on you and looking at your warmly, ticked him off. That green eyed monster rising.

“How about that drive sometime?” Victor’s voice brought Benny back to the matter at hand, the male speaking.

“Ah, yeah. That would be” – you looked to Benny, but am surprised to see the unfriendly look directed to Victor – “...great". Great coming out unsure.

Your old friends face lit up when you agreed, not noticing the uncertainty in your voice. Going on about where you both should take a drive too. All the while you were unsure on how Benny was taking all this. Though with every passing moment that look seems to get darker, and getting annoyed.

That’s when it hit you. Benjamin Cross was jealous. Jealous of your old family friend Victor. Turning back to Victor, you couldn’t help the wicked little smile that crossed your lips. Now would be the best time to give your boyfriend a taste of his own medicine. Finally you could show him how you felt when he spent time with Angela.

“I don’t mind where we go" you replied, placing a hand on Victor’s arm. “As long as you can open that car up".

Benny’s gazed moved to you, not impressed with your reply.

“Of course! She’s made to go fast" Victor laughed.

You continued to smile, looking at Victor. You both talk about his car, you asking any and every question you can think of. All the while feeling the dark cloud that was Benny behind you.

And oh Benny was not enjoying the attention you were giving this guy. Nor did he like the way Victor was smiling at you. He knew he was an old family friend, friends with your brother. But a small part of him wondered if you had ever had a crush on him. If Victor had liked you. Did either of you act on it. Was there hand holding and cuddling. Or did you ever kiss. Every thought making the jealousy in him grown.

Then he did it. Victor held your hand as he led you around behind his car. Leaving Benny standing there seething. This guy had the audacity to take your hand and lead you away from him. Benny’s hands clenched for a moment, before he unclenched them, for he had to control this anger, to control the want to lay hands on this man. He wouldn’t – couldn’t do that, for you would not forgive him if he did.

Next minute he heard your loud giggle. That was it. Snapping out of it Benny made his way to you both. You were leaning against the back of the car, still in conversation with Victor, who stood too close to you with that charming smile. With a small growl, Benny walked over between the two of you. Victor taking a few steps back.

“Benny?” You asked confused and concerned at the annoyed look on your boyfriend’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“Everything alright?” Asked Victor, which made Benny turn and glared at him.

Without a word Benny pulled you from your leaning position. And without an ounce of trouble, he picked you up so you were over his shoulder. You let out a surprised yelp. After realising what had just happened you started to hit at Benny’s back and saying for him to put me down. But it fell on deaf ears, as your boyfriend then stomped off, back towards his bike.

“Ah, sorry Vic!” You called, throwing him a slight wave.

The man you’d just called to looked at you with a shocked expression, returning your wave awkwardly. With every step you continued to hit Benny’s back and repeating your demand to be put down.

“What is ya problem!?” You practically yelled, now gaining an audience as you both moved on.

Benny huffed. “Had enough of him" was his gruff reply.

You blinked, taking a pause from hitting your boyfriend. “Come again?” You asked in confusion.

“I said, I had enough of him" Benny stated, like it was fact.

“Hmm" you hummed.

You took a moment to let his words sink in. As well as his actions. You smiled at your jealous boyfriend, before starting to laugh. Your plan looked to have worked. You got under his skin. You practically cackled, which had Benny questioning you on what’s up with ya?

You smiled brightly. “My, my, my. Looks who’s jealous now, huh?” And again you laughed.

Benny huffed, jostling you on his shoulder, silencing you. He smirked at that. Though it didn’t last for long. As you began to sing that he was jealous. Reaching his bike Benny planted you back on your feet, met with a big grin on your face.

“Admit it, you were jealous~” you sang.

Benny rolled his eyes, but feeling embarrassed by the weight of your attention on him. Yes, he was jealous. And a small part of him feared it could be the start of loosing you. You noticed how Benny looked away, his eyes looking worried. Your smile dropped. You stepped closer seeing how worried he was. You brought your hands up, cupping his face and turning his gaze back to you.

“Hey, you have nothin' to worry about" you said softly, eyes boring into his beautiful baby blues. “If ya think I’d want Vic, no chance. I want my bike riding Vandal any day".

Hearing those words, Benny let out a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding. His eyes softening, the worry slowly leaving. Replaced with warmth and endearment for you, which is everything you had for him.

You pulled Benny’s face towards yours, the Vandal not putting up a fight. You brought his lips to yours in a soft, tender kiss. A reassurance he needed, and felt from you. Wrapping an arm around you, Benny drew you in close. You smiled at how needy he could be at times. But you wouldn’t push it away or say no.

Pulling back you looked at your man. “I still can’t believe ya got jealous" you giggled.

Benny groaned, hiding his face in your crook of your neck which only made your giggle turn into a laugh. Retaliating, Benny began to nip at your neck. Which earned him a small squeal from him, and a playful slap to his shoulder. You both laughing at it all.

“Yeah, I’ll admit I was jealous, happy?” Benny muttered against your skin.

Smiling triumphantly you said, “good...now ya know how I felt".

[multiple-fandomimagines]

Nothing Like Honey

Tyler Owens x reader

warnings - 18+, smut, aphrodisiac, oral (f receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, squirting, penetration, ig premature orgasm?, some swearing

word count - 4126 (idk how lol)

a/n - this is my first Kinktober as a writer, and I was gonna skip it bc of my schoolwork, but there's no way I'm gonna miss out. I haven't posted in a month and college is taking all of my energy with all the writing i'm doing. also disclaimer: I've never tried honey packets so idk if they actually work lol. thx for reading and I hope you enjoy :)

“You can’t say no without even seeing what it is first,” Boone smiles.

You, Boone, and Tyler were sitting in a booth at the bar, celebrating after a good day of chasing. Dani and Lily were off somewhere beating Dexter in darts. The bar is noisy and pretty crowded for somewhere so rural, but you got lucky and found a quiet booth in the corner.

“With you, yeah I can,” Tyler laughs, before taking a sip from the beer bottle and placing it back down.

“Just look at what it is before you make a decision,” Boone rolls his eyes. He reaches into his pocket to retrieve two small packets and places them on the table.

Your eyes widen. “Is that what I think it is?” you ask, leaning forward to get a better look.

“It sure is,” Boone nods. He smirks, folding his arms against his chest and leaning back into the booth. 

Tyler looks between the two of you, confused, before asking, “Okay, what am I missing here?”

You look up at Tyler. “They’re uh…,” you begin, but trail off. You then look over at Boone, silently telling him to answer for you.

“They’re horny packets,” Boone smiles proudly.

“Honey packets,” you correct him, sending him a playful glare.

Boone waves you off. “Same thing.”

Tyler reaches the hand that wasn’t resting on the booth behind you to grab one of the packets. “And what exactly do these honey packets do?” Tyler questions, his eyebrows furrowed as he turns the packet over in his hand.

“Like I said, they make you horny. They’re like an aphrodisiac so they’re supposed to take everything to the next level. If you know what I mean,” Boone wiggles his eyebrows.

“Oh, come on,” Tyler looks at him in disgust, but you just laugh. If you hadn’t known Boone for almost as long as Tyler, you’d be disgusted too, but you’re used to his antics.

“What, man? I’m just keeping it real,” Boone raises his hands in surrender.

“And do they actually work?” you ask.

“Believe me, they work,” Boone gives you a look. You let out another laugh, and this time Boone joins you.

“What do we do with it?” Tyler asks, still eyeing the packet.

“Just take the packet and wait for everything to kick in,” Boone says, leaning back with his arms crossed over his chest.

Tyler squints. “Where the hell do you get these kinds of things from?” asks Tyler, not too surprised since Boone is always showing him something new.

“A magician never reveals his secret,” Boone playfully shrugs, causing Tyler to kick him under the table.

“Ow!” Boone leans down to rub his shin.

“You’ll be okay,” Tyler tells him, a small smile forming on his lips.

“Do you guys want these or not? There’s no need to harass me,” Boone looks between you and Tyler. You look up at Tyler, and he looks back at you with his eyebrows raised. 

“Your choice,” Tyler shrugs.

You contemplate for a moment, before nodding and looking over at Boone. “We’ll do it.”

“Alright!” Boone claps his hand.

Ten minutes later, the packets are in your system, and you and Tyler decide to call it a night. Tyler heads to the bar to pay his tab and you follow behind him. You normally don’t like to hover, but the bartender has been making eyes at him all night. 

“Gone so soon?” the bartender asks with a tempting smile and a tilt of her head, a cowboy hat placed on top.

“Yes, ma’am,” Tyler nods, giving her a kind smile as he hands her his card. You watch her return the smile before heading off to close his tab. 

When Tyler turns his head to look at you, you give him a smile. Tyler knows it’s a fake one which is why he sends you a smirk before wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

“Well, I sure do hope I see you back in here soon,” the bartender says as she comes back to hand him his card and receipt, leaning against the counter to show off her breasts in the process. You turn your head so she doesn’t see you roll your eyes. This also makes you miss her eyeing Tyler’s arm around you.

Tyler gives her a quick thank you before walking off with you under his arm. You run into Lily right in front of the entrance who looks disappointed when she sees you and Tyler leaving.

“Already?” Lily pouts. “You’re really going to leave me here with the others?”

“It’s nothing you can’t handle,” you laugh at her reaction, quickly leaning in to give her a hug. 

“Tell the others we said goodnight, will you,” Tyler tells her. She nods before telling you and Tyler goodnight and walking away.

“Where are you two lovebirds going?” you hear Boone call from behind you, as you and Tyler walk to his truck.

“It’s late, Boone,” Tyler calls back, not turning to look back at him.

“Is that the only reason?” you hear Boone’s voice coming closer as Tyler opens his passenger door for you to enter. You can hear the suggestiveness in his tone.

“Goodnight, Boone,” Tyler rolls his eyes, as he watches you get in.

“Alright, alright, you don’t have to tell me about your private life,” Boone says, a smile evident in his voice.

You stick your head back out to see Boone laughing. You let out a giggle as you call out, “Goodnight!”

Tyler playfully shoves your head back into the truck, before closing the door and walking around to the drivers side.

“Don’t make me run you over,” you hear Tyler tell Boone, before he opens the door and climbs in beside you. Boone sends you a wave, before heading back inside the bar while Tyler pulls out of the parking lot.

“Was that jealousy I saw back there?” Tyler asks you as he starts the drive back home.

“What?” you innocently ask as you look out the window at the land zooming by, the sun almost completely set.

“Oh, okay you want me to say it,” he teases, but you don’t turn your head.

“Still don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Well then, you wouldn’t mind if I turned this truck around and reopened my tab with that flirty bartender then would you?”

That makes you turn your head. “I dare you, Owens.”

“So you do know what I’m talking about,” Tyler quickly glances over at you with his eyebrows raised and a playful smile on your lips, before turning his attention back to the road. He has one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the center console, your favorite position. Although, it seems even more attractive at the moment for some reason.

There’s no way those packets actually work.

“Just keep driving,” you mumble, crossing your arms and looking away again in the process. 

Tyler chuckles as he moves the hand on the center console onto your thigh, giving it a small squeeze. You feel warmth spread through your bottom half at the action.

Yeah, there’s no way.

“No need to get embarrassed, sweetheart. You know I love when you act like that.”

Little did you know, Tyler was feeling odd too.

When Tyler pulls in front of the house, you wait for him to open your door as always. You begin making your way to the front door, but Tyler grabs your hand and pulls you back, causing your bag to collide with the truck door. Tyler takes a step closer to you, pressing his body against yours.

“What, no thank you?” he asks, raising a playful eyebrow. 

“Like you deserve it,” you joke and make a move to pull away from him, but he doesn’t let you budge.

“Is that so?” he questions as he nudges his face into your neck. You let out a squeal as you begin feeling his fingers dig into your sides.

“Don’t you dare tickle me,” you laugh as you try to move his hands away from you.

“Why not?” he asks, his breath tickles your neck as he laughs. His fingers begin to move again.

“Tyler!” you jump. Tyler laughs again.

You place your hands onto his chest and somehow manage to pry yourself out of his hands. “Behave yourself,” you laugh.

“Sorry, darling, I wish I could,” Tyler tells as he pulls you away and gives you a look.

“What do you mean?” you ask. Tyler doesn’t answer, he just quickly looks down before looking back at you, silently telling you.

“Really?” you raise your eyebrows.

“What, you’re telling me you don’t feel anything?” he asks. 

Now it’s your turn to be silent. You feel your face heat up as you avoid his gaze and look past him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you shrug, folding your arms across your chest. Tyler moves his head into your line of sight, giving you a look that says he knows you’re full of shit. “Okay, fine. I do. I just didn’t expect it to…y’know…actually work.”

“Neither did I, but look at us now,” Tyler says.

“What do you mean ‘us’?” you furrow your eyebrows, looking down at the bulge in his pants before looking back into his eyes. You let out a small laugh. “Seems like you have a bigger problem than me pal. No pun intended of course.”

“Ha ha, you’re so funny,” Tyler playfully rolls his eyes before tightening his grip on you. “I’m not sure why you’re laughing, though, you’re the one that’s going to help me fix this.”

“No self control, huh?” you tease, and Tyler glares down at you. “Relax, it’ll wear off soon.”

It did not wear off anytime soon.

Tyler followed you around like a lost puppy as you moved about the house. Inside the bedroom right when you were just feeling like you could control the overwhelming feeling in your lower half, Tyler came up behind you in the bathroom. 

His eyes meet yours as he wraps his arms around you and presses his front against your back, trapping you between him and the bathroom sink. The bulge in his jeans pressed against your backside, making you throb.

“How about we just cut to the chase and get this over with, huh?” Tyler whispers into your ear, his eyes never leaving yours. You can’t help but lean into his touch and subconsciously tilt your head to give him more access to your neck.

“We have to get up early in the morning. We’re meeting with everyone to discuss the potential storms, remember?” you try to remind him.

“They can just fill us in after,” Tyler mumbles as he begins to place soft kisses on your favorite area on your neck, right below your ear.

He notices the goosebumps forming on your arms as his fingers run up and down them. You feel the small smirk forming on his lips as he continues his trail of kisses on your neck. You allow your eyes to close for a moment, enjoying the sensations, before opening them and meeting his eyes through the mirror once again.

“It’s not the same, and you know it,” you tell him, your resolve quickly diminishing.

“Come on, sweetheart. You want this just as much as I do,” says Tyler.

“I don’t know,” you pretend to contemplate, “I think I’ll be okay.”

Tyler doesn’t respond. Instead, he raises a daring eyebrow at you, not believing you for a second. He knows you like the back of his hand. You just give him an innocent smile in return. 

You then begin to feel Tyler’s hands abandon your arms and land on your waist, one of them traveling further south. His fingers make their way to the waistband of the jeans you have yet to take off. Your smile fathers and your breath hitches at the ticklish feeling. His movements are purposely slow, wanting you to crack as soon as possible. 

Tyler lifts his head from your neck, so he gets a good look at your face when he asks:

“So you’re saying if I move my hand a little further down, I won’t feel your wetness soaking those pretty little panties of yours?” Tyler questions. His bold wording catches you off guard, making you shift slightly in his hold, your throat starting to feel dry. “What? Nothing to say?”

“Why don’t you find out?” you quip, somehow finding your voice again. 

Tyler gives you a knowing smile before swiftly unbuttoning your jeans and moving his hand inside, his other hand still firm on your waist. You look down and watch as he wastes no time and dips his hand into your panties, quickly bumping into your clit, making you jump. 

Tyler breathes out a laugh before continuing and easily finding the wetness he already knew was there. He runs a finger through your sticky folds, his hand trapped between your ruined panties and your pussy.

Your hands instinctively grab onto his forearms. A small moan escapes your lips as you try to keep your hips from bucking into his hand.

“Well, what do we have here?” Tyler smirks. “Just as I thought, she’s eager for me.”

You hate the fact that you love when Tyler refers to your pussy as a she.

Tyler moves his finger back up to your clit, rubbing gentle circles into the bud. You both know it’s not enough to get you off, but it’s enough to turn you on more – and it does. You let your head fall against his chest as your hands tighten on his arms. Tyler moves his head back into your neck, hovering his lips right over your ear.

“All you had to do was say something, baby. Y’know I always take care of you,” he whispers into your ear, his tone condescending.

He suddenly adds a bit more pressure to clit, causing your hips to involuntarily buck into his hand. You can feel your legs beginning to shake, the honey packet causing you to be sensitive. You bite your lip to keep the sounds rising in your throat at bay. His unoccupied hand leaves your hip and moves to your waist, keeping you against him.

“Don’t be like that, there’s no need to keep those pretty little noises away from me. All you have to do is admit that this is what you wanted this whole time and I’ll give you what you want.”

You send Tyler a glare through the mirror, causing him to chuckle, the rumble in his chest vibrating through your body. You really don’t want to give in that easily, even though your body is saying otherwise.

Tyler starts kissing behind your ear again. “You know you want to.”

Tyler removes some of the pressure on your clit, his movements turning gentle – which is the exact opposite of what you need right now. 

“Fuck, okay. Fine,” you breathe out.

“Okay what?” Tyler smirks, pretending to be confused.

“Fuck you,” you tell him through gritted teeth.

Tyler’s voice drops an octave. “Oh, darling, I will. As soon as you tell me what I want to hear.”

Your body betrays you, allowing a shiver to run through you.

“This is what I wanted,” you mumble.

“Sorry, what was that?” Tyler asks.

“This is what I wanted!” you repeat louder this time.

“I don’t like the attitude in your voice, but I’ll let it slide,” Tyler tells you.

He pulls away and removes his hands from your panties, sticking the wet fingers into his mouth. You slightly frown at the loss of his touch, your body suddenly feeling  cold.

“Let’s get started then,” he gives you his charming smile, which at the moment makes you want to slap him, before bending and lifting you into his arms. You let out a small yelp as your feet leave the ground.

He carries you into the bedroom and tosses you onto the bed. The two of you can’t seem to undress fast enough, tugging and tossing articles of clothing here and there. You’re pretty sure he tossed his shirt perfectly into the hamper in the far corner of the room, but at the moment you don’t care.

Tyler moves to hover his naked body over you, quickly attaching his lips to yours. It’s rough and needy, neither of you wanting to pull away for air. Both of you are panting. He shoves his tongue through your lips, haphazardly moving around your mouth. 

You pull away just a tad to wrap your lips around his tongue, gently sucking. Tyler’s hardened cock twitches against your abdomen as he breathes out a moan. Your lips curve into a smile at the noise. His hips begin to grind against yours, allowing you to feel the precum dripping from his slit onto your abdomen.

Tyler pulls away and moves his lips to your collarbone. He begins a trail of kisses, going through the valley between your breasts, stopping to give each nipple some love, before continuing on his way. Your back arches into his touch and you feel yourself throb as heat blooms in your stomach.

He goes all the way down your body, pulling your legs down with him as he kneels in front of the bed, coming face to face with your center. He grunts as he gives his poor, leaking cock a few tugs. 

“Y’know, we could’ve been doing this 20 minutes ago, but you wanted to play games,” Tyler tells you, his breath hitting your exposed pussy as he speaks. 

You go to rebuttal, but words instantly leave your mouth as Tyler runs a finger through your dripping folds, then spreads your lips apart for better access. A whine leaves your lips instead as your hips buck towards his face. He gently blows air onto your sensitive pussy, causing you to involuntarily clench around nothing and your body to jerk. Tyler notices and smiles to himself at the sight, deciding to do it once more for the hell of it. Your body jerks again.

“Look who’s playing games now,” you point out, holding your body up with your elbows in order to get a good view of him. Your expression is mixed with frustration and desperation.

Tyler chuckles, his eyes never leaving your pussy. “Not for long.”

With that, he dives into you, dragging his tongue through your lips. He quickly dips the tip of his tongue inside of you before pulling back out and attaching his lips to your clit. Your fingers dig into the blanket beneath you, your mouth falling open in a gasp as his tongue flicks against the sensitive bud. Tyler’s grip on you tightens when he feels your hips buck into his face once again. 

Your head tilts back in pleasure as he continues his movements. Feeling your arms about to give out, you let your back sink into the mattress and allow your eyes to close. He can’t help but grind his hips against the bed, needing something to alleviate the overwhelming pressure running through his cock.

Tyler pushes his face further into you as he feels his own orgasm quickly approaching. He moans into your pussy and continues to grind his hips against the bed. Your thighs tighten around his head and your legs tremble a little as you feel the vibrations from his body travel through yours.  

He knows he’s not going to last long, but he doesn’t try to stop himself. His cum spurts out and onto the side of the bed, dripping onto the floor beneath him. His fingers tighten on your thighs as he finishes, his cock barely softening.

His climax remains unknown to you, too lost in the depths of pleasure. After a couple more minutes of your whining and your hips grinding into his face, he decides to give you what you want. He slides one of his hands down and pushes a finger into you all the way to the knuckle, meeting no resistance from your welcoming body.

“Fuck,” you breathe out, your back arching.

Tyler continues to thrust his finger into, feeling your slick coat his finger, making it even easier for him to move. You feel a slight stretch as he adds another finger to the mix, plunging his fingers deep inside of you. You reach a hand down and allow your fingers to tangle in his hair. Tyler hums out a moan when you give his scalp a small tug. 

When Tyler notices your orgasm approaching, he quickens the pace of his fingers. The change of pace allows you to hear just how drenched you really are. The sound of your wet squelching echoes through your ears as he curls his fingers and finds your sweet spot.

“Oh god,” you whimper, your back going into a deep arch.

Tyler releases your clit from his lips and replaces them with the thumb from his unoccupied hand. His lips glisten from your arousal as he rubs tight circles into you in time with the rhythm of his fingers in your tight walls. He glances up at your face and smirks at the reaction he’s able to pull from you. 

Tyler feels your walls beginning to clench repeatedly around his fingers, signaling your orgasm. His fingers speed up inside you even more, constantly hitting that spot that makes your toes curl. 

You feel that final wave of intense pleasure run through you, your mouth opening in a silent moan as you come undone. His fingers don’t slow down, though, he continues the movement until he sees that clear liquid gush out of you. It soaks his fingers even more, dripping down his arm and some hits him in the chest.

“There you go,” Tyler mumbles, keeping his eyes on your gushing pussy.

You cry out as you feel yourself squirt, the liquid running your thighs and onto the blanket beneath you. When you notice him not letting up on his thrusts, you let out a squeal and try to pull away. 

“Ty! Baby!” you wail, immediately feeling yourself being thrown into another orgasm. Tyler chuckles as he watches you squirm. 

When that second orgasm arrives, it hits much harder than the first one, making your body clamp up as you feel yourself squirt once more. Tears begin to form in your waterline from the overstimulation. 

“S-shit,”  you stammer. Your voice is high pitched and much weaker than it was a few seconds ago. 

Tyler smiles proudly at his work and decides to pull his fingers out. His cock jumps as he looks down at his body covered in your arousal. 

You try to catch your breath as you slowly climb backwards towards the headboard, your thighs still twitching.

“What’s wrong, darling? Where are you going?” Tyler innocently asks as he climbs up onto the bed. His voice is deep and raspy as he speaks, the way it always gets at a time like this. He grabs you by your ankles and pulls you back down a couple of inches as he hovers over you.

“Y’know, I’m actually really glad Boone gave us those honey packets. What about you?” Tyler asks he situates himself between your thighs. He wraps his hand around his cock and begins to lightly stroke himself. He groans and tosses his head back for a second, a bit sensitive from his orgasm. He quickly returns his attention back to you.

Despite the two orgasms Tyler just ripped out of you, you feel yourself getting turned on again. You gulp as you watch the sight in front of you unfold, your mouth beginning to water.

Oh, no.

“Nothing to say?” he smirks and begins to run his cock through your sore folds.

You tremble as he moves against you, not being able to stop yourself from moving your hips along with his motions. 

“Who knew they actually worked?” you try to laugh, but immediately get cut off by Tyler sliding into you. He moves to wrap his arms around you, holding you close and caging you in between him and the mattress.

Your mouth falls open and your eyes widen. Your lip quivers and your eyes flutter close at the stretch of him pushing until the hilt.

“Fuck,” Tyler rasps at the feeling of your warm walls contracting around him. He clenches his jaw as a chill runs through his body, needing to close his eyes to gather himself. “Oh, sweetheart, you don’t know how good you feel.”

All you can do is whimper in response. You open your eyes to meet him already looking back down at you. His lips have transformed back into the irritating smirk.

Looks like you’re going to be stuck here for a while, might as well get comfortable.

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