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[suguann]

Being a camgirl comes with its fair share of ups and downs, but you never expected one of the downs to be one of your unboxings from a fan going horribly wrong during a live stream—the proof of it still buzzing between your thighs beyond your finger's reach. 

A rush of embarrassment comes with knocking on your roommate’s bedroom door and asking him for help because you’re nearing the brink of overstimulation and can’t think straight enough to get the words out. It’s worse when he stands there and says nothing—all imposing with two tattooed arms crossed over his chest—while you try to get through a sentence without moaning. 

Simon looks at you with a cocked brow and something akin to amusement as he watches you squirm in his doorway. 

Then he finally says, “Get on the bed,” in a steady and low voice, opening his bedroom door wider.

You fidget under his scrutinizing gaze as you settle back against his pillows, biting back whimpers with a too-hot face and sweat dripping down your back. 

Him settling a knee on the bed makes you jump, “Let’s take a look, love.” 

Simon crawls up the bed, forcing your knees open, and you’re suddenly very aware of how broad and big he looks, towering over you—every part of you laid bare for him to see. A large hand presses right below your belly button, jostling the toy inside you, and this time, you can’t hold back the squeal that rips from your chest. 

“Sorry,” he murmurs, voice imperceptibly deeper, his lips twitching like he’s trying to hold back a smile. “Okay, you’re going to feel a slight stretch.”

You bite your lip. “A-alright—”

Slight doesn’t even come close to the fingers sliding into you, spearing your sensitive walls open and pressing into a spot where you’ve never been able to reach with startling precision. You remind yourself that he has to do this, that he’s just being…friendly, or whatever makes the lines less blurred. 

None of this stops the fact your lower stomach burns with the promise of another orgasm when his fingers brush against the egg vibrator before accidentally pressing it deeper inside.

“Ah, there it is.”

At the sight of your scrunched nose, he asks if it hurts. You shake your head; eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to hold back the stinging pleasure racing up your spine. “N-no,” you whimper.

“Relax, okay?”

Simon doesn’t comment on how you’re implying that it feels good. So good, you think, his thumb just barely touching your clit as he twists his hand to try a different angle. Then he pushes down on your belly again, and his long fingers finally grip the vibrator.

“Oh!” you moan at the feel of it dragging down your front wall, your fingers gripping the sheets. 

He has to tell you to relax again, his voice cracking, but you hardly hear it over your heart beating loudly in your ears. His fingers drag the toy out slowly, almost too slow that you can feel it bumping against every slippery ridge inside you.

“Ah, sorry,” he says when you twitch—unapologetic—using his thumb to rub soothing circles into your stomach. “You’re so wet. I need to make sure I don’t lose it again.”

You nod, cunt clenching down at his words.

And then Simon’s fingers curl up: your thighs start quivering, breath caught in your throat, and your jaw locks up until your orgasm ripples through you. It’s unending, the strongest one yet, and just when you think it’s over, you feel the press of his palm against your clit.

“W-wait! Simon,” you moan, pushing at his hand. “No more, I‘m sensitive!”

He gets you to fall over the edge one more time before finally slipping the vibrator out of you, letting it hum softly on the bed, and your exhausted body sinks into the mattress once again. Simon gathers you into his lap, rocking you back and forth.

You swallow lungfuls of air against his chest, head still spinning and walls spasming from the aftershocks. 

He murmurs in your ear about how good you are, kisses your temple, and rubs your sides, and it’s… enlightening. Moments pass before you finally return to yourself, and when he pulls back, his brows furrow at your pout.

“All good?”

You shake your head and go with honesty. “I didn’t think you’d cuddle me afterward.”

He smiles, thumb flicking your bottom lip. “You wanted me to fuck you?” 

Your mouth falls open. “N-no—”

Then he leans down, lips brushing against your ear: “Don’t worry, love. Good girls get fucked hard.”

[jlheon]

𝓟𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐄 ୨୧ 𝐏𝐒𝐇

(𝓹airing) ── psh x fmr ꣑୧ 𝓻oommate au ; fluff, suggestive, & profanity (𝔀ordcount) one thousand two-hundred 𝓹eng's note. hoon 🙂‍↔️ 𝓫ookshelf

𝓼ynopsis. nothing like a hot summer night with your equally as hot roommate

it’s too fucking hot.

you’re sticking to your sheets as you blast your air conditioner at the highest possible setting.

though it proves to be useless against this stupid heat wave.

you have a large cup of ice water to your side, the ac on blast, and even a fan directly next to you. though nothing can compare to the coldness of sunghoon’s room, since he invested in a stupid (better quality) air conditioner that cost him a good couple hundred dollars.

you think you might faint at ten, so you swallow up your pride. walking up to sunghoon’s room and reluctantly knocking on the door.

“i knew you’d come around,” sunghoon says when he opens the door, a teasing smirk on his face, “and oh look, you’re even dressed all pretty for me.”

you feel his eyes go up and down your figure. suddenly feeling conscious of your outfit decisions. a cropped tank top and shorts that were a little too short. however, you blame the weather for your minimal amount of clothing. there’s no way you were going to change into something with more skin coverage in this heat.

“i’m dressed appropriately for the weather,” you huff, walking past him to get comfortable in his bed.

“didn’t know my name was weather,” sunghoon teases as he closes his door to keep the cool air inside, then coming to your side, “i didn’t say you could stay with me.”

“i don’t care!” you shuffle around in his sheets, back facing him. “i’m sleeping here because my room is too hot.”

“it’s okay to want to sleep with me, princess,” he replies, “hoonie understands.”

his tone is so mocking and condescending you almost jump up and leave, but you melt into his sheets. his room is so cold you’re even starting to shiver. pulling his sheets over your shoulders and closing your eyes. the heat you’d been enduring all day making you exhausted.

sunghoon decides not to push your buttons and let you sleep.

when you finally get a couple of hours of sleep you are awoken by the shuffling coming from sunghoon’s side of the bed. a loud groan following shortly after.

“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he mutters.

the sounds of him fidgeting with the machine and light switch come after.

you sit up, rubbing your eyes, as you push the sheets off of you as the temperature of the room starts to increase.

“what’s wrong?” you ask, getting up from the bed to retrieve your phone. turning the flashlight on and walking towards sunghoon.

“the power is out,” sunghoon sighs, raking a hand through his hair.

“oh my god,” you whine, trying to make out your roommate’s figure in the dark. “take off your sweater, you’re going to die.”

“you sure,” sunghoon smirks, which you can see with your phone flashlight pointed towards the ground. “i’m not wearing anything underneath here.”

“liar,” you furrow your eyebrows as you stare up at your strikingly attractive roommate even in the dark.

“why don’t you check,” sunghoon brings your empty hand to the zipper of his sweater. hand around yours as he guides you to pull it down.

“i hate you,” you mumble when your eyes meet his chiseled and toned chest.

“you love me.”

in the blink of an eye, your phone is discarded on the floor along with his sweater. sunghoon has you caged against his wall your hands resting on his bare chest.

“you like this, don’t you,” sunghoon says smugly, tongue darting out to lick his lips. one hand beside your head as the other rubs circles on your bare hip.

“no, i don’t,” you shake your head, feeling small as his tall frame towers over you. his arm leaving the wall to gently cup the side of your face.

your eyes drifting to the way his muscles are flexed. veins running down his entire arm as his strong biceps trapped you against the wall, making you flustered.

“no need to lie to me-” you cut him off by ducking under his arms and running towards the bed.

“i’m going back to sleep,” you return to your original spot on the bed.

“sure,” sunghoon sighs as the bed dips next to you.

though neither of you are able to fall asleep due to the humidity in the room. still, you’re embarrassed by the way you were gawking at sunghoon minutes earlier even in the darkness of the night.

after concluding there was no way you would be able to sleep in such conditions, you start to turn around but are stopped by sunghoon’s hard chest pressing against your back. throwing his arm loosely around over waist.

“oh my god!” you say startled, hand on your chest, “you scared me!” you turn around in his hold.

“looks like you can’t sleep either,” sunghoon sighs for the nth time, “want to do something until the power comes back on?”

“like what?” you ask, looking up at him from where you lay.

you follow sunghoon out into the hallway of your apartment holding your phone as a flashlight yet again. he stops at the electrical panel and has you shine a light on it while he messes with the buttons.

“should you really be doing that?” you ask.

“well i’m just trying to see if there’s anything i can do-”

“it’s a power outage! it’s all the apartments, not just ours,” you argue, the heat making your emotions out of control..

“shut up!” sunghoon says, his voice laced with annoyance as he walks to stand in front of you.

“no, you shut up! we should just try and sleep! i have work tomorrow and so do you-”

he cuts your complaints off by smashing his lips against yours.

due to the height difference, sunghoon lifts your figure to his lips by tightly securing his arm around your waist. his other hand tangles itself in your hair after he guides your frozen hands to wrap around his neck.

the kiss becomes more heated by the second, sunghoon tilting his head to deepen the kiss. you’re catching your breath in a few seconds as you start to feel dizzy with sunghoon’s touch.

connecting your lips again and pushing your body against the wall. it startles you enough to emit a small gasp, allowing sunghoon to slip his tongue into your mouth.

his hands roam your body, despite the shared body heat, and the overall temperature of the room being agonizing. the only thing he can focus on is the cute sounds leaving your mouth.

you both break away for air, eyes fluttering open to see sunghoon in all his shirtless glory in the light. his chest heaving up and down in sync with yours as your eyes trail down to his abs.

“i guess the powers back,” you drop your hands from his neck. “we should go back to sleep.”

“you don’t really think i’m done with you yet?” sunghoon scoffs as he pecks your lips.

sunghoon picks you up faster than you can react and makes a beeline for his bedroom. before you know it his soft mattress hits your back and he drops you down on his pillows. body bouncing up slightly from the impact.

with sunghoon hovering above you, for once you’re thankful to have not spend the extra buck on a high-quality air conditioning system.

then his head dips, soft lips making contact with your neck. your hands reaching up to lace through his hair, pulling him closer to you. you bite your lip as his lips attach to your neck, sucking softly on your exposed skin. you conclude that you will definitely be spending more time in sunghoon’s room this season, and not just for his air conditioner.

[strawberries-and-racing]

go back to sleep - cl16 smut

pairing: charles lecler x fem!reader

summary: charles comes home late after a long week of hardly seeing eachother and fucks you while your asleep

warnings: a little bit if angst at the beginning, established relationship, somnophilia, unprotected sex, fingering and a little bit of a control kink.

the cool night air that wafted off the mediterranean sea and settled over monaco brought charles no comfort. the darkness of the night pressed around him as he rounded the last few corners before pulling into the driveway.

he'd hardly seen you in the last week. you were swamped with work and always exhausted.

meanwhile, ferrari was falling apart, each race seemingly more disastrous than the last.

before, the two of you had always been able to make it work and saw eachother constantly. cooking together at night by the warm glow of the kitchen lights, reading together or going out on small, intimate dates.

but the last several days had been different. the week had been particularly stressful and busy for both of you but it felt different for charles. your schedules weren't aligning and he often ended up coming home extremely late, and you left early in the morning.

he knew that you were just busy and soon it would all blow over but still, he felt alone. he felt a little paranoid, everything seemed off.

he worried things would grow dull between the two of you. he worried you'd get irritated with his late nights. he couldnt bear to lose you.

tonight especially, his body ached for you.

he parked the car and got out, making his way up to the apartment. he opened the door quietly as to not wake you up.   

hastily, he put down his bags and made quick motions to prepare for bed. the apartment was dead quiet, only illuminated by the city lights that came through the windows. the clock reads 12:39.

as he opens the door to the bedroom, any traces of tiredness in him melt away as his eyes land on you.

you're asleep, your entire body limp. the ponytail you normally wear to sleep has fallen out and your hair fans out across the pillow. your lips are slightly parted and your body heaves slightly with each breath you take.

your legs are spread and your his tshirt is bunched up enough to reveal your white cotton panties, the ones he knows you like to wear to sleep.

you look so peaceful, angelic, fragile. so neatly prepared for charles to wreck. the idea of doing so excites him so much that he finds himself crawling slowly onto the bed.

his fingers begin softly stroking your pussy through the thin fabric of your panties. you dont move, dont make a sound. still asleep, still perfectly spread for charles.

he carefully pulls your panties to the side, running his fingers up and down your folds. even in your sleep, its unbelievable how wet you are from his touch.

his fingers move from softly circling your clit. your body doesnt move.

he slowly pulls your panties down your thighs and slips them off your ankles.

as his thumb continues pleasuring your clit, his fingers glide down and push inside you. your walls tense around his fingers and you groan, you shift positions a little.

but you dont wake up.

he pumps his two fingers in and out of you, increasing his pace ever so slowly as to not disturb you.

your sleeping body clenches around his fingers, walls fluttering with pleasure. charles finds it impossible how you remain asleep with how deeply he thrusts his fingers into you, brushing against your g-spot.

he pulls out his fingers before you can reach your orgasm.

a soft breeze swirls through the open window. you visibly shiver, goosebumps creeping over your thighs.

you remain unconscious still, even as he pushes his unbearably hard cock inside of you. the feeling of having you completely and absolutely under his control sends waves of arousal over his body. your motionless frame was all his to use however he wanted.

a small groan escapes charles' lips at the contrast of your hot core to the cool air of the bedroom. he gently begins thrusting in and out of you, placing his hands on either sides of your waist and gripping the sheets.

you exhale softly from parted lips. the muscles in your abdomen tensing, your walls clenching around him.

he increases his pace little by little. your delicate body flinches. he has to use every ounce of his willpower to keep his pace slow.

your expression beneath him is impossibly soft and innocent. he swears hes never seen anything more beautiful.

a small moan leaves your lips. the noise is hardly audible but the little vibrations that ripple over your body is enough to make charles's cock twitch inside you.

your eyelids flutter, you shift a little. your eyes open slowly.

your whole body feels hot, pulses of pleasure rushing through you. as you slowly regain consciousness your met with charles's intense green eyes. you cant quite read his expression.

it takes you a minute to piece together the situation, your mind still foggy with sleep. the heat and movement between your legs. charles on top of you. the familiar dark glint in his eyes.

charles thrusts into you carefully but deeply. you bite your lip, moaning. your finger nails clutching his arms.

charles brushes his hand over your cheek, touching you softly.

"go back to sleep, ma belle."  his voice is rich and soaked in lust. he places a soft kiss to your cheek, then to your neck.

your body feels so tired from the exhausting week and you're barely holding onto consciousness. so you give into charles without protest, just and you'd done so many times in the past.

you close your eyes. letting the gentle, familiar movements of charles's hips rock you back to sleep.

[1lovehanni]

Escape the Spotlight (Hanni of Newjeans)

Hanni x Male Reader (Y/N) Word Count: 1841 words Summary: Y/N fucks Hanni after her birthday, oh also this is canon so sum issues about them rn.

The soft hum of the city filtered through the dorm’s open window, carried by the cool evening breeze. Hanni had left it cracked just enough for the noise to feel distant, like a reminder of the world outside, one she was eager to escape from tonight. She leaned against the desk in her small, cozy dorm, her phone loosely grasped in her hand as she reread the last message she sent.

“Hey, come over. I need a distraction.”

Simple, direct, and maybe a little too forward, but she was tired of holding back. Her birthday was supposed to be a time to celebrate, but all it had been was a whirlwind of interviews, scheduled social media posts, and the pressures that came with being under the spotlight as an idol. For once, she wanted to forget about the cameras and scripts and just be herself.

The only person who could assist her in doing that was Y/N.

The clock on the wall ticked steadily, but the minutes dragged as she waited. Her heart pounded in her chest, anticipation creeping up her spine. It wasn’t often that she invited someone into her private space like this, but Y/N was different. There was something about him that made her feel... safe. She didn’t need to put up her walls or play a part when he was around.

Her phone buzzed, pulling her out of her thoughts. His message was brief:

“On my way. Be there soon.”

Hanni exhaled, a little smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She pushed herself away from the desk, pacing a bit to calm her nerves. She had no idea what tonight would lead to, but she knew she wanted it to be far from the reality she lived in every day. No cameras, no judgment, just her and Y/N.

As she moved around the room, she glanced at herself in the small mirror hanging on the wall. Her reflection showed a different side of her—Hanni Pham, the idol, was nowhere to be seen. Instead, she was just Hanni, in a simple oversized hoodie and comfortable shorts, her dark hair tied up messily. She was free from the usual layers of makeup and the high-maintenance outfits, and for once, she liked it. It was the real her. She wished more people would see, but they didn’t.

She rubbed her arms absentmindedly, feeling the familiar anxiety settle in. Being an idol wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. The expectations, the scrutiny, the never-ending demand to be perfect—it was exhausting. And as much as she loved her fans, sometimes she just needed a break.

Tonight, she hoped Y/N would be that break.

The knock on the door startled her from her thoughts. She moved quickly, her pulse quickening. Pulling the door open, she was met with the sight of Y/N standing there, looking a bit out of breath but with that familiar smile that always made her feel at ease.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice warm and slightly teasing. “Didn’t keep you waiting too long, did I? ”

Hanni shook her head, stepping aside to let him in. “No, you’re just in time.”

The door clicked shut behind him, and for a moment, there was an awkward pause as they stood there. The tension between them was subtle but palpable. They’d known each other for a while, but tonight felt different. Something was hanging in the air, something unspoken, and neither of them seemed ready to address it—at least not yet.

Y/N took in the room, noticing the faint scent of lavender that lingered, the warm glow of the dim light she’d set up, and the slight mess that hinted at her life outside of the polished image people saw on stage. It was intimate and personal.

“You look... comfortable,” he remarked, his eyes tracing over her figure, not in a way that made her self-conscious but in a way that made her feel seen. Really seen.

She smiled, playing with the hem of her hoodie. “It’s my birthday. I wanted to be comfortable.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And you decided to spend it... with me? ”

She shrugged, her voice softening. “I didn’t want to spend it alone.”

That admission hung in the air, and Y/N seemed to understand. Without saying a word, he stepped closer, his presence immediately grounding her. He wasn’t there to judge or to expect anything from her. He was just... there. And that was what she needed most.

They moved to sit on the floor, leaning against the foot of her bed. The conversation flowed easily at first—catching up, joking around, talking about things that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. But as the minutes passed, Hanni found herself opening up more, telling him about the things she didn’t usually share with others.

“It’s been hard,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “The whole idol thing... it’s not as glamorous as people think.”

Y/N listened intently, his gaze never leaving her face. He nodded, not interrupting, just letting her speak.

“I just... I want to be myself, you know? ”She laughed bitterly. “But sometimes, I don’t even know who that is anymore.”

There was a silence, heavy but not uncomfortable. Y/N reached out, gently taking her hand in his. It was a simple gesture, but it sent a warmth through her that she hadn’t felt in a long time.

“You’re Hanni,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “That’s enough.”

Her heart skipped a beat at his words. It was such a simple statement, but it meant everything to her at that moment. She looked at him, her eyes searching his face, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she didn’t feel the need to put on a mask. She could just be... her.

Without thinking, she leaned forward, her lips brushing against his in a tentative kiss. It was soft, almost hesitant, as if she were testing the waters. But when Y/N kissed her back, his hand coming up to cup her cheek, something inside her clicked.

This was what she’d been missing. This connection, this intimacy. The world outside didn’t matter right now. All that mattered was him and the way he made her feel like she was enough, just as she was.

The kiss deepened, growing more urgent as the tension between them finally broke. Hanni’s hands slid up his chest, pulling him closer as their breaths mingled, the room around them fading into the background. All of her worries, her stress, her insecurities—they melted away in his embrace.

As they pulled apart, breathless, Hanni rested her forehead against his, her fingers still tangled in his shirt. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice filled with gratitude. “For being here.”

Y/N smiled, his hand resting on her waist, grounding her. “Always." Y/N removes his shirt with a quick motion, leaving Hanni with a desired look. Hanni instantly kisses Y/N with more passion, as if she were dehydrated for lust. Both of them moan as their mouths explore each other. After an intense makeover, Hanni grabbed her shorts and tossed them to the side. Y/N then put his hands over her thighs; Hanni’s already wet from the sloppy kisses they had. Y/N rubbed his hands on her pants, making circles on Hanni’s clitoral area. Instinctively Hanni moans under his mouth. “Ugh, yes, make me cum Y/N.Hannah is reaching her limit; she holds on with the kiss and moans louder and louder with every hand movement of Y/N. “I am going to cum, Y/N, I am going to cu... ughh.” She reached her orgasm, slowly fading to Y/N's body as she loses her energy. They looked at each other with a smile. “I want you on me, Y/N.” Without wasting any time, Y/N removed his pants, greeting Hanni with a bulge in his boxers. Hanni’s face was flustered by the view. She was smiling and grinning. “Wow.” leaves from her mouth. Instantly she moves onto his boxers and removes slowly while looking at Y/N eyes. Y/N cock flew from his boxer and hit Hanni’s face. Both laughed, but then Hanni swallowed the rod in her face. “Oh Hanni.”

She bobbed her head up and down, swallowing inch by inch of Y/N cock. She is making slurping sounds, moaning while taking what’s her. She continued the blowjob, occasionally changing the pace. “I am getting close.” When she hears this, she increases the pace like she's racing a deadline. She speeds her bobbing, galloping every inch of Y/N cock, and after a minute Y/N shoots his hot semen in her mouth. She swallows all of his cum, even licking the ones that overflow from her mouth. Hanni then stands over Y/N, removing her hoodie, showing her cute boobs to him, and playing with her nipples—that’s already hard.

Hanni slowly lowers her body to Y/N, aligning her opening to him. She kept eye contact with him, having conversations with their eyes and being playful with it. His cock entered the heavens when Hanni finally let him come in, breaking the silence with a moan from both of them. She adjusted as the tip was entering. It is not their first time, yet she's still tight as ever. Y/N groaned from the feeling of his cock entering Hanni’s pussy. As she lowered her body more, it also adjusted with Y/N's size; after all,  7 inches isn’t that easy to penetrate.

Hanni gives up and lowers her entire body to him, leaving her to lose control of her body and slams to Y/N, but luckily he catches her and at the same time kisses her on the lips, creating another makeup session. She slowly moves her hips and starts her ride. “Oh, god, your cock feels so good on me,” she blurts from her mouth.

Just like the blowjob, she also increases her pace slowly. She truly wants to make it all the time and to experience another world far from her idol image. They parted lips as the pace started getting faster. Hanni then let Y/N do more of the work; he's now the one driving the pace as he fucks her hard, leaving Hanni with moans and pleasure.

“Fuck!! ,” she screamed as she  coughed. Y/N followed with his seed shooting inside her. ‘Oh sh*t, I cummed inside fuck my bad,” he said to her.

Oh yes, cum inside me. I am on pills, you dumbo.” With her approving of him to cum inside of her. Y/N carried Hanni and changed into a dogstyle position and kept fucking her.

This goes throughout the night; time passes, lives change, and a new world is ahead.

Hanni kisses Y/N, “Thanks for coming; I had fun.” “Me, too. I am always here when you need me. Goodnight.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Thanks for reading!!

A/N: Hanni smut?, Hanni smut, Hanni smut!, HANNI SMUT!??!!!

[moremaybank]

yet another breeding kink!jj musing…(combined with this request from a lovely anon ♡)

You're on your last leg. Your eyes can barely remain open for more than five seconds, and even that is generous. The wind is far from being knocked straight out of your lungs, and you'd be struggling to keep your head upright instead of smushed against your pillow if it weren't for JJ and the position he has you in.

You're on your stomach, with JJ on top of you, chest pressed to your back and pelvis knocking into your ass every time he sheathes his cock into you. His bulky arm keeps you in a headlock, and his lips remain next to your ear, warm breath fanning over the side of your face every time he pants or whispers filthy words into your ear.

"Don't go, baby. Don't leave me. Keep givin' me this pretty pussy, yeah?"

How in the world are you expected to not give him whatever he wants when he's being so soft with you and begging you to stay?

You can't.

That fact was proven true at the beginning of the night when he'd finally gotten you alone after babysitting your niece. He was all over you, trying to rip your clothes off and kissing every sliver of skin he has access to. Accompanied with a hushed let's get them panties off, mama. 'm boutta give you a fuckin' baby spoken into the crook of your neck, you were handing yourself over to him on a platter.

Now, you're whiny and achy and sensitive with the way he's been pummelling his cock into you, and though it's hard to speak, you manage to cry out a small t-too much, J. can't handle it. please.

But JJ doesn't think he can stop, even when he's as exhausted as you are. You're oozing with his cum, all messy and hot and tight, and the thought of your belly rounding out and expanding once you're really growing his 'lil fetus in you fuels him. now he has a newfound burst of energy that only plans on spending on you. His words get dirtier and he becomes rougher, and you're in what you believe to be heaven.

"Got so much cum for you, babygirl. C'mon. Take it all for me. Wanna have my baby, don't you?"

He's spearing into your core now, his tip bullying your cervix and kneading your gooey walls with a harsher force. He dots kisses over the back of your shoulder, and then scrapes his teeth against your skin, nipping and pressing marks into your flesh after failing to fight the urge.

"Y'got this, angel. Gonna be such a pretty mama, huh?"

Your cries are being fucked out of you, your throat raw and voice scratchy. "J."

He knows you're close to tapping out, but he can't bear to be separated from you, not now. Not ever.

"Please, baby. Keep goin' for me. Love you so much, jus' wanna give it all to you. Wanna keep you 'round forever."

And you're cumming around him the minute the words leave his lips.

concepts ; concepts (ii)

[reysdriver]

Cruel Summer | E.M.

Eddie does his very best to help you through the current heatwave — eddie x pregnant!reader fluff

warnings: pregnancy, a little angst if you squint

words: 1.6k

Boiling. 

That was the only way your trailer could be described right now. It was one of Indiana’s hottest summers on record, and it didn’t help that you were six months pregnant and living in an aluminum box. 

You owned three electric fans, and they were all on full blast and aimed at the couch, but they really weren’t making as much of a difference as you needed.

There was a series of thuds coming from something or other outside the thin walls of your trailer, so you assumed your husband was home. And you were proven right when he entered, immediately apologising for leaving you alone in this heat. 

He had no reason to be sorry. Eddie has been so attentive and helpful through this pregnancy, showing you exactly why you fell in love with him everyday, and he was even proving it now. 

Since he just came back from a quick run to the store for some ice, fruit, and frozen treats, he set everything he bought on the recliner before crouching down next to you. 

He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead and started lightly stroking some of your hair. 

“How are you feeling?” Eddie asked. 

You gave him a side eye, too exhausted to even lift your head. “Take a guess, Teddy.”

He smiled slightly. If it was at the use of your favourite nickname for him or your exasperated joke, you weren’t quite sure. 

“I know that, sweetheart, and I’m sorry. Hopefully I can help a little.”

“Thank you. Did they have black cherry ice cream?”

He hummed out a quiet ‘mhm’ then stood up with a stifled groan. “But it might have melted a bit on the way back. I’ll put it in the freezer and we can have it soon.” 

“What about oranges?”

That was your latest craving. The ice cream and popsicles were luxuries to get you through the heat; the oranges were necessities. You were thankful that your cravings switched from tomato soup to citrus just in time for the heatwave, or you weren’t sure how you would get through it at all. 

Eddie made his way back over to the living room and picked up a paper bag from the recliner. 

“Big bag of ‘em, just for you.”

Hoping to dive right into the bag of fruits, you attempted to sit up, but the baby bump paired with the immense summer heat rendered the process slow and tiring. 

Eddie watched as you moved sluggishly, pitying how this heatwave was taking an extra hefty toll on you. 

“Don’t push yourself.” He advised gently while holding out his hand for you. “I’ll help you with whatever, even if it’s just getting up.”

You thanked him, then grabbed a cutting board and paring knife so you could slice the oranges how you like. 

“You know,” Eddie spoke again. “I was thinking that we could stay at someone else’s place for a bit. Just to get through the heat, you know? I’m sure everyone we know would be more than happy to have us over.”

You started shaking your head before Eddie even finished the proposition. He and you both knew what your answer would be, but Eddie figured there was no harm in asking. 

He really just wanted the best for you. He wanted you to be safe and comfortable, and although that obviously was something you wanted too, you just couldn’t accept his offer. 

“Eddie, I know you just want me to be happy, but I promise you I’m happiest here, at home, with you.”

He sighs, torn between wanting to get you out of this sauna of a trailer and letting you decide what’s best for yourself. In the end, he had to go with your choice, even if it meant suffering; both of you suffering together wasn’t the worst thing ever, he supposed. 

“Alright. Want me to at least draw you a bath?”

“Will you feed me orange slices and ice cream while I’m in the bath?” With wide eyes, you flashed him a hopeful smile. 

He rolled his eyes jokingly, then smiled sincerely back at you. “Of course, anything you want.”

You let out a happy giggle, then took the ice cream out of the freezer almost as quickly as it got there. 

He kissed you on the forehead before heading off to the small bathroom. 

You heard the sound of running water, then your husband’s voice. “Make sure to scoop enough so I can have some too!”

You happily obliged and doled out an extra scoop into the bowl. Then you plucked one ripe cherry from the bag in your fridge and placed it atop the dessert. That was Eddie’s favourite, and if he was being so nice to you, then you would return the favour. 

You took the time to clean the kitchen up, then brought both the ice cream and the orange slices to the bathroom to see Eddie sitting by the tub and turning off the water. 

“It’s a little bit cooler than usual.” He warned. “I just didn’t want the water to be too hot when the whole place is already hot and you’re—”

You cut him off by pressing a kiss to his lips, then another on the corner of his mouth. 

“Thank you, baby. Now hold these while I get undressed. And then turn around.”

“I don’t get to watch?” Your husband asked, baring one of the most betrayed looks you’ve ever seen.

You shook your head. “I promise, you don’t want to see me struggling to get my clothes off because they’re drenched in sweat and I’m about to enter my third trimester. I mean it, don’t look. I don’t want you losing all attraction to me.”

Your husband sighed dramatically, then obeyed and turned slowly to face the other way.

It only took a bit of effort, but you took off your dress and placed it on the towel rack beside you. Then came a wolf whistle from right behind you. After turning around, you noticed that Eddie could totally see you in the bathroom mirror. 

“Pervert.” You mock accused. “Does me being all gross and pregnant really turn you on?”

“Everything about you turns me on.”

And he meant that. Not an ounce of insincerity in that promise. 

You faked a gag and then smiled just because you couldn’t help it. Holding out a hand, you asked if he could help you into the tub and he obviously did so after putting your food down on the counter. 

“How’s the water?” He asked. “I can add some hot or cold water if the temperature is off.”

“It’s amazing, handsome. Perfect temperature for some orange slices.”

Eddie chose the slice that was calling to him the most and held it for you to bite. Some of the juices missed your lips and dropped into the bathwater, but you paid that no mind. 

You were thankful that your husband bought a whole bag of these, because you had a feeling your diet over the next few days would be mainly oranges. 

After a few more slices, you decided you now wanted some of the black cherry ice cream that you had also been craving recently. 

As Eddie held the spoon up close to your lips, he noted that this was similar to feeding a baby—something you would be experiencing soon enough. 

“I don’t know about that.” You said. “I think a baby would be a lot more difficult to feed than me.”

Eddie cringed exaggeratedly and shrugged, telling you he doesn’t know about that either. 

Maybe proving his point, you splashed about a cup’s worth of water at his chest, taking care in your aim to make sure none of it got in your ice cream. He ‘retaliated’ by doing the same to you, though the water didn’t affect you when you were already in a whole tub of it. 

“Do you want to join me?” You proposed, gesturing vaguely to the tub so small that you had to cram just to sit alone in. 

“I don’t think this thing can fit both of us, baby. You enjoy it now, and a big tub will be on the top of our list when we buy a new house.”

“It’ll take a while.” You told Eddie. “A lot of our savings are gonna go to the baby, and who knows when we’ll be able to leave the trailer park.”

“Don’t say that. We’ve been working hard and saving. We’ll get there soon.” Eddie assured you. “And even if we can only afford a place without a big tub, I’ll live in the dark and eat nothing but salt and pepper for as long as it takes to get you one.”

You tried to hide your grin, but you knew you were failing at it. Maybe he didn’t think you believed him, so he kept going.

“I’m serious. We’re almost there.” Eddie looked down at your bump sticking out of the water. “Our baby is gonna have a good life”

“You’re so cheesy, Teddy.”

“I’m in love. Love makes you do cheesy things.”

“Like feeding me ice cream in the bathtub?” You asked, attempting to not put your true intentions on display. 

But Eddie understood, just like he always does. He picked up the spoon once more and scooped a heap just for you. 

“Like feeding you ice cream in the bathtub.” He nodded in agreement.

[forsworned]

SWEET NECTAR ft. PUSSYDRUNK!PRICE

𓈒༑•̩̩͙ 𝗌𝗒𝗉𝗇𝗈𝗌𝗂𝗌: 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗒𝗈𝗇𝖽 𝖾𝗑𝗁𝖺𝗎𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖺𝖻𝗌𝗈𝗅𝗎𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝖽𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗄 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎

𓈒༑•̩̩͙ 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: 𝗌𝖾𝗑𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍, 𝖼𝗎𝗇𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗎𝗌, 𝗈𝗋𝖺𝗅 (𝖿 𝗋𝖾𝖼𝖾𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀), 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝗆!𝗉𝗋𝗂𝖼𝖾

𓈒༑•̩̩͙ 𝖺/𝗇: 𝗂'𝗅𝗅 𝗃𝗎𝗌 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 (´꒳`)♡

⤷ links: masterlist rules buy me a coffee!!

Fatigue was submerging into his muscles as he unlocked the door to the shared flat, not bothering to kick off his boots but instead placing his fishing hat on the console before heading to the bedroom. The door slightly ajar and his eyes softened at your sleeping form, so pretty, so...

He sighed at his listless, perverse thoughts, but he couldn't help it when you were wearing that soft pink night slip that clung to you like a second skin. He found himself palming at his hardened member as he leaned against the doorway taking in the sight of you. Honestly, he felt a little drunk from the sleep deprivation, buzzy light headedness that his mission consigned his now weary body as his half lidded gaze set itself upon the peaks of your breasts that rose and fell.

Your body stirring awake, squinting at the familiar form in front of you. "John?" You murmured softly and oh your voice.

Your voice had sent him over the edge, sinking him down to his knees at the end of the bed. His stubble tickling at your inner thigh, lips dotting against the surface of your skin that sent a pleasant shudder up your spine.

Fingers immediately carding into his soft, chestnut hair as you sit up a bit to gaze down at his exhausted form splayed out over your lower half. You couldn't help but chuckle at the fact that he was still fully dressed in uniform.

"Missed you, ducky." He hummed against your inner thigh, millimeters away from your now throbbing core. You licked your lips and flashed him a sweet smile that made his insides go gooey; his eyes might as well have had hearts in them from the way he was gawking up at you adoringly.

A small sigh escaped you. "Yeah?"

He alternated from side to side, showering you with heated kisses, making it unbearably achy between your legs. "Yeah." He breathed out, fanning over your clothed pussy.

"How bad?" You wanted to challenge, but your voice breaks as easily as your resolve in a failed attempted at provocation.

He chuckled as he flickered his sapphire gaze up at you and a sly smile graced his lips. "S'bad, ducky."

And honestly he wasted no time removing your frilly knickers and carelessly tossed them to the side before he dove into your sopping, wet cunt. The way he spat on it before lasciviously devouring you, as his calloused hands caressed your sides and rested at your belly. Lewd noises echoed in your shared bedroom walls both from the squelching of his tongue and mouth against your pussy to the moans and whines that salaciously curled out of your lips.

The way your back arched against the sheets to the way your fingers grasped at his mussed hair and shamelessly grinded against this tongue, Price was fighting the urge to absolutely pound you into the mattress. But he'd settle for the way you obscenely inundated his name while you pathetically writhed beneath his grasp.

Incoherence spluttering from your lips as your chest heaved from the euphoria his tongue was bringing you while he eagerly lapped you up, not quite rough but hungrily. The undivided attention your dripping core was receiving had you whining out for him as your fingers scrambled.

"Missed this sweet pussy." He exhaled as he withdrew from you, admiring the ichorous, dewy sight of your folds reflecting in the dim light from the living room. He gave your cunt a long lick, "So good." Another gluttonous lick. "Fuck, angel." He whispered, before gathering his saliva on your pussy once more and he watched as it sank down your swollen and puffy petals. You involuntarily clenched and he shot you an impish grin. Azure hues fixated on you as he eagerly shunted his flattened tongue from your opening to suckling on your billowy clit, sending your back arching once more as he nestled himself between your legs.

At this point you're begging for release in the form of disjointed pleas and half crescents forming into his scalp. "John...john, please! Need...to cu..."

By way of acknowledging your request, he hummed against your pussy and gently prodded his fingers past your needy folds. He moaned again at the feeling of your tight, wet walls soliciting another whine from you.

"H-hah...John...!" You squeaked out as he curled his fingers barely brushing against your sweet spot that threw you in a fervent daze, causing you to sit up as your jaw went aslack and no words could find a place on your tongue. Just the syrupy sweet, impassioned whines that escaped you as your toes curled, reaching your peak.

He was so lost in you, drinking up all your enraptured gasps and divine honey, feeding his carnal desires. "Cum for me, ducky."

And your orgasm ripped through you, completely coming undone as you cried out in pure pleasure. Though he was still having his fill of you even after, sending you wriggling away from him to which he smiled against you and placed a sweet kiss against your mound before he clambered ontop of you. Giggles filled the room as he held you tight against him and peered down at you lovingly with your sweet nectar coating his pinkened lips.

"Missed you." He beamed. Such an infectious smile he had. It made you grin ear to ear as he leaned forward to tenderly kiss you, tasting yourself on his lips and withdrew a bit too quickly for your liking as he sucked on your bottom lip. The corners of his mouth turned up as he tugged on it ever so gently, bringing it between his teeth before unlatching.

You snickered at the naughty grin on his face. "Missed you too."

His lids were beginning to droop as he gazed down at you and he burrowed himself into the crook of your neck, deeply inhaling your saccharine scent. Your digits gently looped into his hair once more, as he left a little wake of kisses from your jaw to your collarbone.

Sleep began to envelop this unwavering soldier, and soon the sound of his snores were heard and you inwardly chuckled at his incredible timing. All that work just to end up nodding off, though you'd never complain when he was that good.

𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗌 𝖻𝗒 𝗋𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 ࣪ೀ ࣪ 𝖼𝗈𝗉𝗒𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 © 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾𝖽

[cannibalisticskittles]

my wall started humming

so that's cool

[space-cowgirllll]

boy mom abby save me. save me boy mom abby.

Lemme yearn for a sec. I went apple picking and to the pumpkin patch this weekend and it inspired this.

"Abby, hold him still!"

Your wife braces herself against the wall as the two year old in her arms starts failing around even harder, almost slipping out of her grasp. "What do you think I'm doing?"

The two of you giggle as you try to get the tiny jeans up his legs with little success. The toddler using his feet to kick them off as soon as you get his leg in. One particularly hard kick has you moving out of the way just a second before his foot can connect with your stomach. The quick movement making you wince when you feel a sharp pain in your lower back. Abby quickly sets him down, crouching down rub at the sore spot. The sound of his footprints loud as he wobbles away barefoot and pantsless. 

"I'm fine." You grab at the blonde's hands on your bump. "Just moved too fast is all."

She nods, giving the top of your head a quick peck before following the sound of a toy blaring from the other room. With newfound determination, she quietly sneaks up on the toddler, scooping him up and gently dropping him on the couch. His dinosaur like screech pierces your ears. You watch her struggle for a second as she maneuvers him into the pair of overalls while explaining why kicking at mama was bad. 

"Ha!" 

She holds out your son, now fully dressed in a long sleeve and jean overalls. His blonde hair is disheveled and the little knit cardigan you'd tossed at her last minute was unbuttoned, but he was making no move to pull it off so you'd take it. The smug grin is wiped off her face when she sees you sheepishly holding up the little boots and olive green jacket that he'd finally grown into. He breaks loose again, clearly not a fan of the added layer. She rolls her eyes, playfully snatching them out of your hands as she takes off after him down the hall.

"Leave it to you to pick out an outfit with nothing but buttons." 

"What are all those muscles for if not to wrangle toddlers?" You quip.

---

"Oh my god, no! Don't put that in your mouth!"

Warm pastry in hand, you watch Abby chase your son around from where you rest on one of the benches outside the small shop on the farm. Whoever decided a corn pit was good entertainment had clearly never dealt with small children. You smile into your cup as your wife grabs the toddler's small fist away from his mouth and prying it open, letting the small pile of corn fall to the ground, only for him to take two steps away from her and pick more up.  

Your pumpkins had already been picked and loaded in your trunk. Abby took her sweet time of course, wanting to choose the perfect ones for your front porch. You recall the conversation you'd had as she carried a medium sized pumpkin to the nearby wheelbarrow.

"This is kinda heavy." 

You hum unimpressed, gesturing with your free hand to the large swell of your seven month pregnant belly. "Try having that strapped to your stomach and pushing on your bladder twenty-four seven."

The blonde winces. "You're absolutely amazing." 

She acted like she didn't hear your mostly empty threats of saran wrapping one to her as she picked up the pace, pretending to have found 'the one' just a few rows down.

You rub at your lower back, too pregnant to be doing this much. Your eyes flutter shut at the temporary relief. After a full day filled with apple picking, a petting zoo, and trying to keep up with an energetic toddler and dog during various activities, you were wiped. 

"You okay?"

Abby stands in front of you, holding a sleepy toddler in her arms. Your family dog, Alice, following closely at her side. His head is tucked in her neck, fist rubbing at his eyes that are struggling to stay open. The sight of their matching flushed cheeks and pouty lips makes you smile. She can't help but feel guilty for dragging you out here. You look exhausted.

"Yeah. Just resting my feet." 

"The last tractor ride of the day is about to start, but I think we've all had enough for the day." She helps you up, grabbing the basket of apples you'd picked and holding it out of reach when you try to grab it.  "I got it baby. Just grab on to my arm, and focus on not slipping."

Stubborn as ever, you pull the leash from her hand. Grabbing her by the collar of her jacket, you reach up to press your cold lips to hers. "Love you."

Sometime later as she slowly drives down the windy mountain roads, Abby looks over at you. Your head is resting on the window, one hand in hers and the other resting atop your bump. The even up and down of your chest lets her know you're asleep. In the rearview mirror she's met with the sweet sight of her son's hand resting on Alice's head. He'd most likely fallen asleep whilst petting her. The dog content enough with the contact to not move when Abby looks at her.

To think this time next year, there'll be another car seat back there. Another little boy to love. She looks back your sleeping face, bringing your joined hands up, pressing kisses to the back of your hand as she continues down the road home. The diamond of your ring rough against her lips. 

You'd given her everything she's ever dreamed of. As she pulls into the driveway she can't help but think life truly couldn't get better than this.

[arlertwhore]

pairing: paige bueckers x fem! reader

warning(s): nsfw/18+, fighting (verbal/physical), toxic relationship stuff, fingering, thigh riding, pussy eating, squirting,

synopsis: the bitchy, possessive, and temperamental gf who paige thinks she can handle proves her right!

word count: 2.4k

Author Note: got my first lil hate comment the other day 😜 i feel like an actual writer now lmao! here goes draft #6, comin’ in lit 🔥

Fuck knows what you're complaining about this time. She's straight from practice — from a rigorous, exhausting, and intense practice, frustrated with her own performance, only to find you waiting at the door, already irritated about something entirely. Perhaps it was how she didn’t answer you at all today—or how you saw her looking too close for comfort to another 'fan' as she claimed, though you never trusted it—or maybe she even fucking sighed at you the wrong way upon entering through the door because the littlest of things ticked you off—you—her bitchy, demanding, and infuriatingly sexy girlfriend, whom Paige has to constantly remind herself she willingly got involved with, knowing full well she was signing up for the being the figurative property of the brattiest, bossiest, most high-maintenance girl on campus.

"Are you even listening to me?!" you fume as Paige storms past you, stripping a trail of her clothes all the way to the bathroom, letting her hair fall loose from its low bun as she saunters away from your chaos, massaging her temples.

"Seriously, Y/N, now's not the time, I gotta-" - "I don't give a fuck!" you explode, chasing after her and grabbing her arm to spin her back around. "I don't care about your shitty day or your shitty excuses. Why the fuck didn't you text me back, hm?" Paige sighs, avoiding your eyes with an air of exasperation, her gaze shifting to the ceiling in an attempt to not roll them. At her silence, you feel your anger boil over, frustration evident in the clenched fist at your sides and the tense set of your jaw. "You're the fucking worst, Paige!" you snap, "You think just because I'm understanding that means you can take pictures with all these other bitches, post all on your Instagram, but then NOT text me back!"

Paige knew she was the man, the kind of person who could handle any challenge, which is why she thought dating someone like you—a real piece of work—would be a good match. She believed you could keep her on her toes, pushing her to become mentally stronger, more confident, and dominant—qualities she hoped would shine on the court, but on days like this, when you demanded drama and chaos, she wondered if she was truly cut out for it. Her honest, no-bullshitting, no-pretense attitude of: My girlfriend is so sexy opinion? Nah. And she promptly proved that stance when she spat out, “Alright, I’m sorry, baby… Is that what you want me to say? That I’m sorry I have things to do and you act like a bitch about it?” her voice venomous and defensive, stunning you. “Man, get the fuck out of my way right now. I don’t feel like fighting with you, for real,” she demanded, trying to brush past you. You couldn’t believe she actually spoke to you like that—she was usually so considerate of your feelings. In a fit of rage, you squared up to her and pushed her back by her shoulders with a strength you didn’t know you had over the 6ft wall of strength she was. Growling, you commanded, “You’re gonna stand here until WE’RE done talking!”

Paige stands with her hands on her hips, clenching at her sides with such restraint that her basketball shorts ride up, revealing her boxers underneath. She warns, "Stop playin' with me, yo. Step aside." and as she advances again, trying to get to the bathroom door behind you, you block her path, arms crossed and eyes flashing. Sneering, you challenge defiantly, "No. What are you gonna do if I don’t step aside, P? Hm? You gonna hit me?"

She takes a deep breath, drops her head, and shakes it exasperatedly before a light chuckle escapes her, broad shoulders bouncing. “Whatever, ma,” she mutters, turning around and picking up the clothes she’d left scattered on the floor. “I’m gonna go shower at Mikayla’s — forget this.”

You don’t have enough time to be angry about her saying she’s visiting Mikayla’s house—the slut you’d warned her to stay away from. Instead, you sprint to the front door, grab her keys off the rack, and hide them behind your back. Coldly, you say, “You’re mine, Paige. Turn around and get your ass in bed, NOW! You ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

Paige knows you and your past well enough to recognize that you aren’t joking about this possessiveness. However, she’s far from intimidated at the moment. Instead of backing down or appeasing you like she usually does for her princess, she glares at you with a fiery defiance. Her voice is firm as she refutes, “Give me my keys, Y/N.”

You gaze at her, a smirk forming on your face as you watch her façade of nonchalance crumble. Her face turns a subtle red, veins bulging in her hands as she holds them open, waiting for the keys, her lips curled inward and cheeks hollowed. She stands there expectantly, like a statue, until you bristle as she seizes your wrist, slamming it against the door while reaching for the keys with her other hand. Instinctively, you counter with your free hand, pushing her away. She’s lost her calm and collected demeanor. It’s scarier how she doesn’t run but still chases you with the relentlessness of a predator. Her eyes blaze with determination as she follows your running with a steady, purposeful stride. You taunt, “Come and get it, doggy! Yeah, you little bitch!” luring her toward the bathroom, the only room in the house with a lock, and Paige knows exactly what you’re up doing. Just before you can slam the door in her face, Paige lunges for it and forces it open, stepping inside and backing you against the door. This time, she tries a different approach to get the keys—she clasps your waist, holding you in place with her knees pressed against your smaller legs, effectively immobilizing you. As she tussles with you for the keys, you keep a tight grip on them. The struggle is fierce, and you're both panting in each other’s faces, exchanging only ragged breaths. You finally manage to break free from the bathroom and run for the bedroom with Paige hot on your heels. As you glance over your shoulder to see where she’s at, you realize too late that she’s no longer focused on reclaiming her keys. With a swift tackle, she takes you down onto the bed, pinning you there and forcing you into submission. The keys fall out of your hand, but Paige remains on top of you, her anger unrepairable as she growls, “Wanna bitch at me like that when I’m tired?” Her big hands begin to untie your nightrobe. “Wanna piss me off when I’m trying to be nice about things?”

She moves with an almost animalistic quality, yanking you down the bed by your legs and sending your clothes flying off with the force of her pull, baring your body to her hungry blue eyes. She hisses against your neck, “Little bitch?” and you nod rebelliously, “Yeah..fuck,” you heave, “look at you, so pissed, hm?” Her words are unbearably sexy when she vows, “I’ll show you a little bitch.” Mere moments later, she’s seated on the edge of the bed, with you draped over her lap like a ragdoll. You’re writhing, still trying to resist, biting and clawing at her thighs, but Paige’s grip is unyielding. Under her strength, you’re completely powerless.

Her hands spread your ass open, giving her a clear view of your dripping pussy. She chuckles cockily, the smirk evident in her voice even though you're not looking at her when she drawls, “This is why you’re really bitchin’ out, huh, ma?”

You whine at her words, stuttering and squirming, “Let me go, Paige, f-fuck!”

She tuts dismissively. “Aw, but that’s not what you really want, baby... you just need this pussy fucked, don’t you? To get fucked back to your senses—make you my good girl again, my princess...” she purrs, her fingers sliding through your slick and teasing your asshole. Then you hear the dirtiest, most sinful suck of fingers in her mouth you’ve ever heard.

Hips arched high with her strong arm restraining you from running, pressed firmly into your lower back, punching pressure deep within and outside of you, all aligning on the inside, she works her fingers into your soaking wet cunt with precision. She curls and bruises against your walls, relentlessly hitting that spot that makes you squirm like a torture puppet and cry out, "Ah!" for your dear life.

Her smarmy, taunting response? “I know, baby, I know, fuck… too tight for it, I know,” she bellows, feeding off your whimpers and whines with a sadistic delight. That smirk on her face—the one you wish you hadn't turned back to see—tells you she's savoring this victory a little too much and has no intention of letting you go anytime soon, even if you've clearly accepted that you're the little bitch. “Please,” you plead, sinking your nails into her thigh, but it doesn’t seem to perturb her in the slightest—if anything, it only eggs her on, makes her devilishly speed up. “It won’t happen again—I-I won’t act like a bitch anymore, daddy, I’m sorry,” you submit, hoping for some mercy, but she’s unforgiving. She chuckles darkly, yanking you up by your hair so you’re forced to look her in the eye, even if hers aren’t fully focused on yours, watching how your tits bounce as she fucks you senseless. “One more time,” she stares at them, biting her bottom lip with a smirk before she refocuses and demands it sternly. Without hesitation, you repeat it louder before she even finishes her command: “I won’t act like a bitch anymore, daddy, I’m sorry!” She smirks, her grip tightening. "I know you won't. Not after I'm done with you." She releases your head, and you fall forward hard, your back arching under what feels like tons of weight as she drives into you overwhelmingly, making you cry out in shock. "Shit!" you gasp, involuntarily pushing back against her long fingers to soften the blow and the jam, so forcefully that your ass claps with each thrust as she fucks into you.

“Say my name, baby, who’s fucking you,” Paige demands. You groan, clenching around her thick, long fingers and spilling spurts of slick arousal as you pant, “You, Daddy!” Paige tilts her head, unsatisfied. “Nah.” Her hand, once forcing down your back, quickly wraps around your throat, clasping firmly as she whispers, “Tell me, Ma.” With the blonde holding you tightly, despite your attempts to escape, with no leverage, she easily grips you by the throat like a puppet, forcing you back onto her fingers with insane speed and force. She thrusts into you even faster, your clit now grinding against her thigh. You hike a leg up in a desperate attempt to run or crawl away, but she's got you firmly in place.

“Paige! Paige, Paige, Paige, you’re fucking me!” you cry out.

“And you like it, baby? Like how my fingers feel fucking that tight pussy?” she taunts, flexing her leg muscles and increasing the friction.

“Aww shit,” you moan strainedly, feeling the familiar coil in your stomach emerge. Your body still tries to crawl away, but your brain forces you to stay put, losing all the air inside you.

“Stop fucking running, ma, take it,” she commands. “Take it, baby, just cum for me, kay? Cum for me, give me your cum.”

You listen to the sound of your cunt, feel it pulsing and clenching around her fingers before you give up and stop fighting and allow all the pleasure crash over you, your body convulsing as your orgasm hits. You gasp and cry out, surrendering to the intense sensation as your cunt tightens rhythmically around her fingers, your clit throbbing against her thigh. She fucks you through your orgasm, continuing even after that, giving you no recovery time, no chance to catch your breath before she has you on your back, legs still spread and a wet mess beneath you. Leaning in, she murmurs, “Be good for me, be still, kay? Let me clean you up—jus' lemme taste you, baby.”

Your hand comes up to cover your face, crying out as you feel her tongue glide through your folds. Gripping onto her hair tightly, you sob—a genuine cry from the overstimulation. Through your tears, you manage to gasp, “Fuck, baby, it hurts so good, ugh!”

You shout and clamp your legs shut, burying her with a guttural scream once her fingers scissor your folds and hold them open, her tongue flicking exactly against your clit, making direct contact.

She pries your legs open inhumanly, like an uncaring monster, her voice resounding and vibrating in your cunt, "Hold your ankles in the air." a command.

You obey, and she’s even nice enough to help, her strong arms holding your legs apart as she laps and slurps up all your cum like she’s parched, her swallows audible and incredibly sexy.

You look down at her and watch her head shake around wildly, losing herself in the abyss, entranced. You try to push her away by bucking into her face, hands occupied, but you end up unintentionally pushing her closer instead. You whine out desperately, your toes, nipples, and cunt especially on fire. "Pl-PLEASE!" you gasp, "I c-can't, I’m gonna—" Her fingers replace her tongue on your clit, while her tongue dips inside you as she murmurs, "Mhm," You cover your face, and the last thing you hear before you pass out is the frantic noise of her tongue fighting to slip even deeper inside you. There’s the sound of a leak, then the subsequent opening of your eyes after what feels like days. You look down at your girlfriend to find her face glistening in a pool of arousal, juices smeared everywhere. Her first instinct? To lick around her mouth, trying to savor the taste as she smiles at you smugly, knowing she’s clearly gotten her point across to your fucked-out self.

Needless to say, Paige has proven herself to you as she knew she would always: she is NOT someone to be underestimated.

MASTERLIST

AUTHOR NOTE #2: uhh so i reread this and i just wanna know if anybody else reading this who writes, is it crazy i reread my own work and blush at it like a viewer 😅 am i a freak guys 😅😅😅 do you do that too?? ANYWAY GUYS PLS INTERACT WITH ME ILY ALL MWAH!

[letorip]

can you write something short and fluffy :( like jenna or wednesday being tired or something

j's lullaby

"darlin' i'd wait for you, even if you didn't ask me to"

===+++===

pairing: jenna ortega x reader

summary: jenna comes home incredibly late and can't wait to collapse into your arms after a long day

warnings: nada, entirely just fluff and comforting someone's exhaustion

word count: 1.2k

A/N: sorry for getting to this now, it was requested months and months ago. feels good to write something sweet for once, and without somewhere to branch off to. i like writing my stories, but it's fun to leave so much up to the reader. maybe i'll do more of these.

===+++===

===+++===

Even from inside the warmth of your apartment, it was impossible to be unaware of the raging storm outside. You could hear the pattering of raindrops upon the stucco roof in small thuds that had faded gently into the background a good thirty minutes ago and given no indication of letting up anytime soon, either.

Not that it would have mattered. You stood in the kitchen with the kettle going on the stove, attempting to read a rather enthralling chapter of your book in the dim, warm light that hung over your microwave, and then rereading it for a third or fourth time when the words became an unintelligible mess in your head, whether it be from the lack of light or sluggish ability to think.

It was a little too late to turn the kitchen light on, not that you were a big fan of the overhead light, but it would've brought a crude harshness to the drowsiness you were attempting to fight off.

Even night owls had their limitations. Sleep snuck up on you at the wispy edges, pulling down on your eyelashes. The clock on your microwave ticked to 4:28, and you turned the page in your book, hearing the kettle's whistle begin to take frequency, one you were sure the neighbours could hear.

In retrospect the somewhat thin walls were the only thing imperfect about the place, with giant windows and warm, teakwood floors. That and your kitchen's tile floor being kind of cold in the morning, but even then, both you and Jenna wore socks in the house, so it wasn't much of a drawback. You would only live there for a few weeks more anyhow, before you both went back to Los Angeles. In the meantime you could cope with the plush floor rug that Natalie had sent.

With one thumb on the thin page of your beaten up novel and the rest of that hand pinning it to the countertop, you lifted the kettle gently towards your old ceramic mug with the chip in the corner and a teabag’s string hanging over the side. The hot water steamed and gently wafted over the apples of your cheeks, and it added a further weight, the room filling with a flowery smell.

As you grabbed a small spoon from the drawer, the front door’s knob audibly turned, creaking open on its hinges and letting some of the nighttime noise flood in, if only for a moment. You grinned at the noise with an excitement that would’ve been impossible to mask, stirring your drink and calling over your shoulder, down the hall. “Hey, in here.”

The door swung shut behind her and a few, tired steps later, Jenna stood in the doorway. You stayed focused on the task at hand, stirring your tea, but you could feel her eyes stay locked upon your face. She wandered over, coming up behind you where you stood and wrapping her arms around your torso, pressing the plane of her cheek against your shoulder blade.

She held you tightly, as if she wanted to melt together. “You didn’t have to wait up for me. It’s almost 5 in the morning.”

“I know I didn’t have to,” you shrugged. “I wanted to.” Her arms wrapped around you just a bit tighter, holding you there and sighing into the soft, worn fabric of your old shirt.

“I made tea,” you hummed. “Do you want any?” She shook her head into your back, almost purring in contentment.

“‘M too tired,” she mumbled.

“Yeah, you got back late,” you said, pushing the tea mug away and turning around to get a good look at her. She was beautiful, that was a given, but she also looked exhausted, with thick, dark eye bags and the tips of her dark bangs a little bit wet from the rain outside.

“Tim wanted to talk about the big scene we have coming up,” she whispered. You hummed again, watching her with a little bit of concern and she looked back at you with a fondness.

“Come on, off to bed with you,” you straightened up, holding out your hand for her to take, and grabbing your book with a finger left between the binding to hold your spot.

She rolled her eyes with a gentle huff but did not protest, letting you lead her gently into your bedroom. There were still a few candles you had lit for just in case during the storm, filling your room with a yellowish, warm glow, and you blew them out while Jenna got changed into her pyjamas.

“Oh, your mum called, by the way,” you said with a gentle smile, pulling the sheets back to sit on the edge. You pulled your woollen, thick socks off and flung them towards the far wall; you could pick them up tomorrow.

She gave you a sleepy nod, wandering towards the bathroom and sliding the door open. “Just checking in?”

“Yeah, wants you to call her tomorrow… which I guess is now today. She wants to her all about work.” You thumbed open your book while you waited for her to finish brushing her teeth, reading a few lines before she reappeared about a minute later, flicking off the light.

Jenna walked right over, pulling the sheets back and then practically collapsing on top of you, her head nuzzling into your neck. You could feel the cold edge of her nose pressing gently against the edge of your jaw, and it sent a small shiver down your spine. You put the book on your bedside table, sliding your eyeglasses off of your weary ears and stacking it on top, along with clicking the lamp off.

You would’ve planted a kiss upon her forehead, but she seemed all too comfortable for you to shift your position, and you were quite certain— though you couldn’t actually see— that her eyes were already closed and she was letting her exhaustion take over.

“I missed you, today,” she whispered.

“I missed you too.”

“Hm.” You both sat in silence for a minute, and you were convinced she had dozed off until she spoke again, even quieter than before. “Tell me about your day, love?”

“Well, let’s see,” you sighed. “Got up around 10, maybe? Did laundry—”

“Thank you for that, by the way,” she mumbled, nuzzling her face further into you.

“Mhm. Went to the shops. Made dinner. Watched that show I told you about.”

“Did you write, today?” The words were sluggish and slow, and you could tell she was lulling to sleep more and more.

“Nope,” you said with a small chuckle, and you felt Jenna smile against your neck. “I’m still waiting for that burst of creativity, y’know? I’ll find it when I find it. What about you? How was your day?”

But she didn’t answer, and you were perfectly fine with that. You could ask her in the morning, after all. And you could drink the cold tea you had completely forgotten about then, too.

short, sweet, and pretty cute. i'm happy with it. i think oneshots are incredibly fun. also calm yourself, i'm still finishing kiss with a fist [iv] i cannot stress enough how much i'm excited for it but it is NOT ready yet

[in-class-daydreams]

What was that thing about the reader’s burn mark in the ex husband Gojo au?

This was one of my first ever Sen AU asks and it took me this long to answer it because actually didn't have a concrete answer until now lol I didn't expect this AU to get popular or for anyone to notice that detail. But I wanted to do a good job as a token of appreciation of one of Sen's first fans. Sorry for the wait!

cw. kidnapping, violence, boldily injury, descriptions of a burn wound, reader and Gojo are around 20 in this, proofreading is for suckas

~

Imagine how unafraid you are when you've been kidnapped because you know that husband Gojo will always come to save you.

"Come ooooon!" Satoru groans. "If you get away, my report doesn't have to be as long, so can't you just let her go and save us both some effort?"

The three of you were locked in a standoff in the boiler room of some supposedly abandoned building. It smelled of mold and garbage and you're convinced the building would be condemned if the proper authorities knew the state of the place.

Your captor - Well, one of them. The rest didn't make it this far - has you in a headlock. He has blood dripping down his temple and his crewmates lay lifeless all around him, brandishing you around like a human shield.

"Fat chance!" your captor shouts. You don't understand where he gets the confidence, but to his credit, he probably only survived this long because he's nowhere near as afraid of Satoru as the rest of his buddies were. "You wanna fight! Let's fight!"

He tosses you aside and your head violently bashes into the brick wall. You collide with a rusty metal pipe, breaking it apart and releasing hot steam to billow right up across your chest. You scream in pain as you smell your own burning flesh. Between the pain, exhaustion, and head trauma, you aren't able to endure much more before you lose consciousness.

~

Imagine husband Gojo demanding to know, "Why isn't she healing?!"

Instructor Yaga shakes his head. He didn't like the idea of one of you getting hurt, regardless of how strong you were. You may have graduated, but you'd always be one of his students.

"Our doctors are saying it's because of her cursed technique. Because she consumes cursed energy, her body processes it differently, but for some reason, she has dead spots. Parts of her body don't react to cursed energy at all. Including technique reversal," he explains.

Satoru grips your hand in his. You're asleep in an infirmary bed at the high school, looking peaceful.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers. It's covered in pristine white bandage now, but when the doctor patched you up, an ugly, jagged wound with bright red, burnt skin and flesh covered much of your chest from just under your collarbone to slightly farther than your sternum.

"It's not your fault," Instructor Yaga assures him.

Satoru doesn't look up from where your wound would be. He stares on tiredly.

"You're wrong," he murmurs. "But thank you for saying so."

Your eyes flutter and you slowly come back to consciousness. Satoru calls for the doctor and they rush to your side. The pain in your chest is severe, but you can only think of one thing. In your delirium, you forget about the one detail you've been agonizing on how to tell your husband.

You ask, "Is the baby okay?"

~

Thank you so much for the ask!

Click [here] to keep up with ex-husband Gojo and his (now estranged) family | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]

[teddybeartoji]

18+ mdni; gn!reader

chuuya with a kitty!reader... he's sat on the bed, his back against the headboard as he waits for you. he's tired, exhausted actually, but the image of you in your teeny tiny little shorts keeps replaying in his mind. and your flimsy little tank top. your cute ears. your tail. fuuck...

he's half-hard in his boxers but he refuses to touch himself. he's hoping it'll simply go away if he ignores it long enough; you're in the bathroom washing your face while he's silently drowning in the lewd thoughts about his kitty. he doesn't want to ask, he feels just a bit embarrassed to do it – he's sure you've had one hell of a day too, sleeping and eating can oh, so tiring for a little cat like you afterall.

his head hits the wall behind him, his eyes falling shut as he fists the sheets. he just wants to go sleep; he wants to cuddle you and kiss you, and feel you against him. and feel you around him. you'd be so warm, so tight – his eyebrows furrowing with a cute, pink blush forming over the apples of his cheeks. he knows you'd make him feel so good, you always do. chuuya thinks about the fraction of a second when he caught sight of you bending over, the material of your shorts streching over your ass so deliciously. he feels like a proper pervert when his dick twitches at the thought of your soft thighs and your belly. your small hands, your skilled fingers, your sharp nails—

the bed dips and his eyes flick open, only to be met with your mischievous ones. you know. placing your hands on the mattress, you crawl toward him at a tantalizingly slow pace; your tails sways seductively behind you and your eyes twinkle with something dark, your lip caught under your canines as you settle yourself between his thighs. never breaking the eye-contact, you watch his adam's apple bob and the flush on his face spread even further. it goes down his neck and to his chest, to his shoulders and his ears. you think it's very cute, the effect you have on the port mafia excecutive.

"what's wrong, chuu, hm?" cocking your head to the side, you trace your nails over his knees, making the man shiver. your voice is sickly sweet, only making the embarrassment settle deeper in his gut as he tries to think of a way to change the topic. but your gaze is heavy and your touch burns, fingers slowly inching higher and higher over his sensitive thighs. "you can tell me... "

the pout you're giving him and the way you keep fluttering your eyelashes is not making it any easier for him, his head filling with filthy, just outright obscene scenarios and he feels awful. "it's nothing, doll. let's sleep, yeah?"

he raises his hand to caress your face and something warm pools behind his ribcage when you lean into his touch. your eyes soften just a tad and he's sure he's done it, but when he suddenly feels you cup his bulge, your nails slightly grazing the sensitive skin under his balls, he jerks forward. his eyes go wide and you think he looks even cuter now.

"what about this though, hm?" you apply some more pressure and watch the man before you crumble. ginger strands of hair fall in front of his eyes and he looks incredibly fucked out already. oh, how you want to play with him.

while keeping your ass up high, you place your elbows on the bed, knowingly pushing his buttons by showing him your perfect arch. slowly, your tail sways behind you, from left to right, and he feels as if he's being hypnotized. giving his balls another squeeze, you jut out your bottom lip. "i just want to take care of you."

chuuya's breath gets stuck in the back of his throat, his fingers wrapping around the hand that's giving so much grief. "you really don't need to, love. i– it's okay."

but his own body betrays him - the wet patch on his boxers, makes you coo at him while resting your cheek on his upper thigh. "please?"

your warm breath fans his clothed, aching cock and it's almost impossible to say no to you. how could he, when you're looking the most beautiful little thing he's ever seen in his whole entire life. and not only that, but you're also asking, basically begging to make him feel good.

"you sure?" he cards his hand through your hair, your ears twitching at the loving act – he's always been so very caring, constantly putting your needs above his own, so you figure it's time to show your appreciation.

"i want to, chuu."

leaning forward, you press your tongue against the side of his shaft, wetting the fabric with your saliva as you keep your eyes on your boyfriend.

with the combination of your hand and your warm mouth and the heavy gaze you offer him, chuuya feels lightheaded already. his free hand fists the sheet below him, his knuckles turning white from how hard he's gripping the material while his other stays in your hair. his palm rests on the back of your hair, gently pushing you closer to his bulge without him even realizing that he's doing it – he's way too far gone already. the pink on his cheeks deepens and you watch how his lips part in a silent moan and you take it as a sign that you're doing good, that you should keep going.

so after giving him a few more kitten licks, you grant him a smile, to which he responds with a twitching cock. he feels ashamed that he's so easy but he really can't help it – he can't help but let out a raspy hiss when you wrap your lips around his tip and suckle on it like it's some kind of candy. like it's your treat.

chuuya's hips buck up and he shoves you into him, so your whole face gets smushed against his bulge but it's not like you mind; you like it when he loses his control a little, you like it when he acts out of pure pleasure. it's the hottest thing in the world.

there's an apology on the tip of his tongue but it fades the moment you place a hand on top of his, telling him that he hasn't crossed any lines and that he should keep it there. chuuya gives you a small nod while swallowing, his adam's apple bobbing in the process. beads of sweat dribble down the side of his neck and you feel hungry, the itching desire creeping up your throat the more you look at him.

as you hum at the salty taste of his precum, you inch your hand a bit lower and start massaging the ever-so-sensitive spot between his balls and his hole, and you're immediately praised for doing so.

his back rises from the bed and forms an almost entirely perfect arch as a loud moan topples from his bitten lips. you think about teasing him for being so responsive but decide to hold back the thoughts just this once.

"ah– fuck!"

your tail picks up the pace, your own heart racing at the sight of him feeling good – this is what you want most, to just let him relax. to let him feel. he works so hard; all day long, and sometimes all night long and so, being the one that's able to give him the well-deserved reward he so deserves makes pride swell in your chest.

you keep rubbing small circles with your index and middle finger while sucking on his tip, the material of his boxers now completely soaked with the mixture of your drool and his precum. with the help of the guiding hand on the back of your head, you develop a steady pace at which you rock yourself into him.

he's writhing now. your mouth is so fucking warm and your fingers are working him like magic, not to mention the way you keep wiggling your ass up in the air. he can't get over how your tail moves, your excitement so evident that it's hard for him not to think about the mess he'd find between your own legs.

and then there's your eyes.

fuck, fuck, fuck.

you haven't taken them off of him once and all the attention is really getting to him. his entire body burns with pleasure and his orgasm hits him like a fucking truck. the high comes so suddenly that he has no time to give you any sort of warning, not that you needed one anyway. with your lips still around him, you take him in your mouth as much as you can and cherish the way he's giving yourself to you.

chuuya grinds his hips against your chin and bites down onto his lip so hard it almost draws blood; he's now fully red in the face and in the chest and he's panting like a dog. it's a sight you never get tired of.

you lap on all of the cum that seeps through his boxers and then wait for him to make proper eye-contact with you again, to swallow it all with a smile. he gulps before mustering up a smile of his own – tired, flustered and lovesick all at once.

his body is still tingling with the aftershocks of the orgasm when you push yourself up and crawl on top of him and plop down onto his lap. hands on his warm cheeks, you kiss him hungrily, nipping at his lips and giggling into his mouth when his fingers dig into the plush skin of your waist in surprise.

but this is enough for the night, so you pull away and watch him chase after you with his eyes still closed. you give him another grin and brush his nose with yours and then you're already nuzzling yourself into his side and wrapping your hands around his middle.

chuuya sits there with his heart trying to jump out of his chest. oh, you're something alright. he still has to clean himself up and he knows that you didn't forget that – he knows that as much as you love making him feel good, you also love to push his buttons. to tease him and to really rub in the fact that he's completely and utterly wrapped around your pretty little finger.

his head falls against the headboard with a thud and a sigh and he swears he can feel you smiling against his skin. he loves it.

[dixons-sunshine]

No-Nonsense | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

A/N: I am so sorry this sucks. I’m moving in a few days, Saturday to be exact, and I’ve been packing non-stop today. When I finally sat down, my brain was fried and I couldn’t really think of words lol. This was the best I could do. I hope it’s still somewhat okay!

The sound of a disbelieving scoff being let out had Daryl tensing up. His cerulean-coloured eyes trailed over to where you leaned back against the wall, his hard, steel-like gaze resting on your face. “Ya got somethin’ ya wanna say, Sunshine?”

“Yeah, I do.” Your own angered stare rested solely upon the crossbow-wielding archer, T-Dog, Rick and the kid, Miguel or something, not even being on your mind at that moment. “I want a gun.”

Daryl rolled his eyes at your statement. He didn’t even know why Rick had bothered asking you along. If shit hit the fan, you wouldn’t be able to protect yourself, and the archer didn’t feel like dying for some woman he didn’t even care for. Sure, you were a resident at Atlanta General before the world ended and had come along to check if Merle had potentially suffered from heatstroke, but other than that, you were useless. At least, to Daryl’s knowledge.

“Yeah, well ya ain’t gettin’ one. I ain’t ‘bout to have my head blown off ‘cause’a yer shit aim,” Daryl told you defiantly. Truth be told, he did not even know whether or not you could use a gun, but if your hesitance towards even looking at Dale’s shotgun back at the camp was anything to go by, it was best not to trust you with a weapon that could potentially lead to his demise.

Cleverly sensing that the situation would escalate without an intervention, the self-appointed leader stepped forward and between your’s and Daryl’s line of sight. “No need to get at each other’s throats.” Rick sighed, rubbing his eyes in exhaustion. The last thing he wanted was for blood to be spilled over something as meaningless as an argument. The main concern was getting Glenn back. Rick turned towards you, an understanding glint in his eyes. “Shane told me you didn’t know how to handle a gun. I’m guessin’ he’s got it wrong.”

“Shane doesn’t know shit,” you spat bitterly, pushing yourself off the wall. “I know how to use a gun. I just don’t like it.”

“Yeah, well s’the way’a life now, Sweetheart. Better get to likin’ it real quick,” Daryl interjected before Rick could respond. He picked up his crossbow and slung it across his shoulder. “‘Sides, how do we know ya ain’t jus’ lyin’ to us?”

“You don’t,” you began, your jaw clenching as you tried to suppress your anger. “I could be lying to you, or I could be telling the truth. Either way, I’m not walking into that place with nothing but my good looks. So we can continue to argue about this all day, or you can stop being an asshole, shut up, trust me, and give me a goddamn gun, or else you can tend to your brother’s wounds on your own if we find him. Your choice.”

If there was one thing Daryl had to give you points for, it was your no-nonsense attitude. Most of the women at the camp seemed to fear him, but you didn’t. Time and time again, you stood up to both Shane and Merle. You refused to be belittled, and he respected you for that. You could stand your ground, regardless of the person you faced.

Swallowing his pride, because he sensed that he could potentially have been in the wrong, Daryl reached forward and grabbed a handgun from the table. He offered it to you, and when you wrapped your hand around the handle, his hand lingered on the weapon for a few moments. “Jus’ so ya know, I ain’t gon’ carry ya when ya shoot yerself in the foot.”

Against your better judgement, you sent him a small smile. “And I’m not gonna carry you when that guy shoots you in the ass for shooting him in his.”

Daryl let out a small huff of laughter. Under normal circumstances, the archer would have still been pissed. However, for some reason, seeing your smile made his anger fade away and be replaced with another feeling, one that unnerved him beyond belief. However, he pushed that odd, fluttery feeling to the depths of his mind. There were far more pressing matters at hand.

Before he could speak up, Rick’s voice flooded the air, making you and Daryl practically jump apart. “Now that that’s settled, let’s get goin’.” For added emphasis, he cocked his gun, motioning towards the kid. “Let’s get Glenn back.”

You spared one last look at the brooding archer. He gave you a small nod, a stark contrast to his previously angered, frustrated state. “After you,” he mumbled, motioning towards the door.

You sent him a playful smirk as you walked past him. “Why, thank you. That was almost gentlemanly of you.”

“Keep up the smart ass remarks and m’shootin’ an arrow into yer behind.”

[thatsdemko]

drought - c.leclerc

masterlist

requested: n

pairings: husband!charles leclerc x wife!fem!reader

warnings: not intended for minors + fingering (f receiving) + minor grammatical errors!

a/n: everyone say thank you to Charles leclerc’s recent photo dump

《 the following content is not intended for minors. 》

the simulator, the meetings, the practices, the races. it’s never ending exhaustion for Charles as he struggles grappling the seasons horrid start.

he’s thankful to have someone to turn to when times get rough. his lovely wife, you. through thick and thin is what you promised each other, and right now? this was the thin. this was what was starting to tear you both further apart.

Charles spent all his time home at the simulator, or any chance he could, at the factory. you’ve spent dozens of lonely, boring, nights in your shade king size bed.

the picture frame above the headboard is no longer crooked. you’d have time to fix it into place because the reason it fell was the endless nights of sex. the headboard would bang into the wall and eventually the picture, from your wedding night, would either come falling down, or end up sideways on the hook.

it was a reminder of your once thrilling sex life has come to an end. sex was no longer something you both were actively participating in. it was rather you and a vibrator on those lonely occasions.

“headed out?” you ask, picking your head up from your book in your lap. you’d heard his heavy footsteps. his tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth searching the right sneakers to wear.

“just to maman’s salon. been awhile.” he says coming into the living room to sit beside you on the couch.

you nod in agreement having not remembered the last time his beautiful brown hair was trimmed. although, you don’t mind the length, and neither did his fans. you’d encouraged him to listen to them, and at the time he laughed. then you showed him why you liked it so much. the ends being tugged between your fingers, ruffled and yanked during sex, he enjoyed the arousal. now, there was no need for it.

“tell her I say hi.” you say, soft smile forming to your lips.

he catches your eyes for a brief second when he looks up from tying his shoes. he takes the quick second to press a kiss to your cheek, “you should come by. maman would love to see you.”

you’d missed pascale. in fact, you missed his whole family. it’d been months since you’d shared a laugh with Arthur, or even held conversation with Lorenzo and his new girlfriend. while you knew the chances were slim to seeing his siblings, you still joined him in the car. it’d been the first time in weeks being in his pista.

his hand dangerously slips across the center console. his thumb strokes the skin your inner thigh that’s exposed from your biker shorts. he’s happy you’ve tagged along, he can’t remember the last time you’ve spent more than two hours together that wasn’t spent sleeping.

“I noticed you fixed the picture above our bed.” he says turning to look at you for a brief second at the stop light. you figured he hadn’t noticed, it was slight change and he rarely slept at home when he had days off. you’re sure he’s seen the toy under your side of the bed if he truly went looking.

“gives you a new challenge again.” you reply back watching the wheel spin under his hands as he pulls into the parking lot. you were finally free from his grip.

he scoffs, putting the car in park, “it was always too easy. it was never a challenge.”

a smirk forms to your lips. your words catching him before he slips out the car, “well you have a new challenge and it’s much better than you’ve been in the past month.”

—

you’re sitting in the chair beside him watching pascale trim the wet ends of his hair. a few fall in his face or around the top of the cape.

she’s happy to see you. in fact, she’s only talking to you the whole time.

she doesn’t notice how you’ve been squeezing your legs together every so often. your one leg is crossed over the other, he sees you shifting in the chair as you answer his mothers questions. he sees how turned on you’ve become watching him.

it’s funny to him. how it’s the most mundane thing ever and it’s got your pussy throbbing for him. all he’s doing is sitting in the chair allowing his mother to cut the dead ends of his hair.

he can tell whatever you were using to get off was not enough. and it was his own damn fault for choosing the simulator or the factory over pleasuring his wife’s needs.

pascale walks away to answer the phone leaving you two alone, and he swivels the chair in your direction, “I did not know this would get you so horny.”

you feel heat spread across your cheeks. you try to pull the neck of the sweatshirt over your face to hide the embarrassment of being caught.

“when we get home—“

“you think I’ll last getting home?” you cut him off before he can propose his plan. his eyes widen, a smirk toys his lips as he shakes his head seeing his mother come back into the room.

“take the keys to the pista, you’re making this hard for me.” he tosses the keys into your lap, “it’s a private parking lot. you can finish what I started.”

“I’m almost done with him. you‘ll be able to go home in no time.” pascale promises and continues to trim his hair. you watch for another couple of minutes and now she’s finally getting ready to blow dry his wet hair.

you can’t watch any longer. you’ve made up an excuse to head to his car and wait out the final minutes. you’ve turned on the air in the car and sat in the passenger seat awaiting his arrival to take you home.

your leg anxiously bounces as you hear him whistling. he opens the passenger door, takes the knob that adjusts the seat, and pushes it as far back as it goes allowing him to kneel in front of your seat.

“Charles what are you doing?” you ask watching him close the passenger door once he’s in. it’s cramped. his head is just inches close to the top of the car, your legs are nearly into your lap and suddenly it’s warm in the car. the air must’ve kicked off after a period of time running.

“taking care of something.” he leans over your lap, letting the back of the seat go as far down as it can. he moves you closer to the edge of the seat, “lift your hips.” he demands and you do as he asks, allowing him to remove your shorts.

“Charles, we can’t do this in your car—“

“nobody is here.” he points out the very obvious. not another car is in this parking lot, and there’s not a single car that has drove down this street since arriving. you were as safe as you could be under the street lights.

“come on, let me treat you right.” he coos, fingers running up and down your thighs, “I did this to you.” he reaches into your lap, fingers toying with the wet material clung to your pussy, a whine threatening at your tongue.

“can I do that? can I touch my wife?”

you nod, unable to speak any words. you push you hips up again allowing him to remove your panties. you spread your legs as far wide as you can. his index finger stretches out across your folds. it’s like a ghost against your skin, you can feel him but barely. a soft whine escapes your lips, you lean back against the seat.

“good girl,” he whispers, “just relax for me.” he says. his index finger wiggles in your entrance. his name rolls off your tongue ever so quickly, and you feel him add a second finger not even giving you a chance to respond.

your fingers go flying into his freshly cut hair, and yank on the short ends. you curse him for what he’s done, and try to grab anything you can while his fingers pump inside of you. he takes his time, discovers every single bit of you like lost treasure. a place he hasn’t tended to in awhile.

sweet whines and moans escape your lips. it’s adorable how quick you were able to fold under his touch. all it ever really took was a swipe of his finger, tongue, or anything else to get your body to fold. you were his in the matter of seconds.

you feel one of his fingers just brush your clit. your back arches, pussy clenching around his fingers. you’re begging him to do it again, and again, until you come.

he doesn’t stop until he notices your legs are visibly shaking, the car is shaking from your bodies response, and until his fingers are met with cum.

“I can’t.” you breathe out, your body itches to exhale the sweet cum he ever so loves. he’s nodding along, encouraging you to come. you throw your body back against the seat, you feel the body of the car move as you do so. sweet delicious cum finally exits your body and so do his fingers.

“that was fun wasn’t it?” he licks his index and middle finger of your cum before pulling your set up close to where it was, and he’s getting out of the car. you quickly pull your shorts back up and double check your hair.

you look him in the eyes when he slides into the drivers seat. you can see the arousal in his pants, a content smile across his face, “don’t worry, you can take care of me when we get home. I’ve got an idea in my mind.”