#screaming and crying throwing up pacing back and forth

[padmesweetheart]

Breath With Me

Pairing: Sam Monroe x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst, Anxiety Attack Support

Request By @darthrenswiftie

It started around 8:47 p.m.

At first, it was just a restless leg. Then a yawn you couldn’t finish. Then the mild irritation that your highlighters were running dry. But within fifteen minutes, your stomach was in knots, your heart was fluttering for no reason, and it felt like there were too many thoughts in your head and not enough space to hold them all.

Your notes were everywhere. Flashcards in chaotic piles. A quizlet tab open on your laptop, music paused halfway through a lo-fi playlist that wasn’t helping anymore. Your bedroom light felt too bright. The air too dry. Your hands were sweating and cold at the same time.

You barely realized you were crying until a tear dropped onto the corner of your annotated textbook.

“Shit,” you whispered, breath catching. “Shit, shit, shit.”

You didn’t even remember standing up. Your body just started moving. Pacing. Rubbing at your arms. Pulling at your sweatshirt like it didn’t fit right, even though it was your favorite one - the one Sam gave you when it got cold at homecoming and you didn’t bring a jacket.

You didn’t even hear the knock.

But you saw him when your door cracked open.

Sam.

Hair messy from his hoodie. Shoelaces half-tied. A Snapple in one hand and a beat-up sketchpad in the other.

“Hey,” he said softly. “Your mom let me in.”

You didn’t speak. Couldn’t.

His eyes scanned the room - your notes, your posture, the tears. He set the drink and the sketchbook down on your desk without a word. Then stepped toward you with the quiet, steady energy of someone who knew.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he whispered. “You’re spiraling, huh?”

That was all it took.

You crashed into him like a wave, burying your face in his chest as the sob broke loose from your lungs.

“I can’t… I don’t…Sam, I can’t do this, I can’t breathe—“

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t say shh, didn’t hush it down. He just wrapped his arms around you and held tight, swaying you gently back and forth like you were made of glass and truth.

“Okay. Okay. You don’t have to do anything but breathe right now. That’s it. That’s the whole job.”

But you couldn’t.

Your heart was hammering against your ribcage. Your vision was pulsing at the edges.

“It’s too much,” you gasped. “What if I fail? What if my brain blanks out and I forget everything? I’ve studied for weeks, and now it’s like - my chest won’t stop squeezing and I’m gonna throw up or scream or both and -”

“Hey. Look at me.”

He pulled back just enough to cup your cheeks in his hands.

“Breathe with me, alright?” he said, firm and low. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

You tried. In through your nose. Out through your mouth.

But your breath hitched. “It’s not working -”

“Yes, it is. Just slower. Don’t rush it. Here.”

He led you to sit on the edge of your bed, guiding you down gently like your legs might give out. Then he knelt in front of you, his hands warm and steady on your knees.

“Close your eyes for a second,” he said. “Just listen to my voice.”

You obeyed.

“Inhale. One… two… three… hold it. Good. Now out. One… two… three…”

You exhaled. And again. And again.

The storm didn’t vanish, but it dulled. The pounding in your ears lessened. Your shoulders sagged like you were finally allowed to be tired.

“There she is,” Sam whispered.

You opened your eyes. He was still there, kneeling like he didn’t care if it wrecked his knees, just to be on your level. Just to keep holding space for you.

“I can’t do this test, Sam.”

“Yes, you can,” he said without hesitation. “You’ve already done the hard part….putting in the time, caring enough to feel like this. That’s what matters. That’s what makes you brilliant.”

You shook your head. “But what if I fail anyway?”

“Then we’ll cry and scream and eat a whole chocolate cake together,” he said. “But it won’t mean you’re any less of a genius to me.”

He said it so simply. Like it was a fact. Like nothing - not even failure - could change how he saw you.

And that’s when you broke. Again. But softer this time.

“I feel so stupid for freaking out.”

Sam frowned. “Don’t do that.” He sat beside you now, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, tugging you into his side like gravity itself couldn’t pull you closer. “You’re not stupid. You’re overwhelmed. There’s a difference.”

You rested your head on his chest. His heartbeat was slow and calm. You tried to sync with it.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” you whispered.

He kissed your forehead, gentle and lingering.

“You’ll never have to find out.”

You sat like that for a while, tucked into his hoodie, letting the chaos outside your skin melt into the quiet rhythm of being with someone who knew how to stay.

Eventually, you mumbled, “You said you brought Snapple.”

Sam chuckled against your hair. “Peach. Your weird comfort drink. I wasn’t sure what else would help.”

“You’re the thing that helps.”

He blushed. “Shut up. You’re gonna make me feel things.”

You laughed, just a little. A real one.

He pulled the blanket around both of you and reached over to grab the drink and his sketchpad.

“Now,” he said, cracking the lid, “you are going to take a break from being a genius and let me distract you.”

“Sketchpad?”

“I started drawing our teacher with laser eyes,” he said, flipping to a page. “You inspired this one. He’s obliterating a Scantron.”

You snorted. “That’s stupid.”

“Yup,” he grinned. “That’s why it works.”

——-

He stayed the whole night.

At one point you fell asleep on his chest, and he adjusted you without waking you - pulling the blanket tighter, resting his cheek on your head. Whispering promises you wouldn’t hear but he’d still keep.

“I’m proud of you,” he murmured. “You’re not alone. Not now. Not ever.”

And the next morning, when your alarm went off -

Sam was already up.

Coffee ready. Hoodie in your size waiting. Flashcards in hand.

Because he believed in you, even when you didn’t.

Because he’d seen the way your hands shook and still called you brilliant.

Because love, real love, meant holding someone through the worst and reminding them they were never too much to carry.

———

You didn’t ace the test.

But you did better than you thought.

And more importantly, you didn’t go through it alone.

[synapticconstruction]

Apollo being Will’s assigned fursona is funny but like,. I think knowing the context later on when Will notes that outside of swimming, she had a passion for art, although a side hobby of hers, she nevertheless would draw what her and Will’s interests and have her own characters. It kills me knowing how although it dwindled among sharing her art, this game is what’s left and like although you have NO CLUE as to why this Let’s Play is happening you have to sit and just think about the GRIP these text boxes have on Will It’s

[diorchids]

C'MON, IT'S JUST THE TIP! w/ luke castellan .

it's your first time and your dear boyfriend promised to only put the tip in. (told ya.)

“just the tip, baby, i promise,” he coos, holding your chin, “i promise.” he carefully slips the tip into your cunt, sucking air in through his teeth. 

“‘s keep it there, lukey. don’t move,” your voice soft and breathy. you hold onto the base, softly stroking him as he slowly rocks back and forth. this is enough for you. you can barely take his fingers, so you know you won’t be able to take him fully. this is fine.

but why would it be enough for him? sure, it feels good, but he’s hungry. 

can you blame him?

you’re so focused trying to please you and your dear boyfriend that you don’t notice him spitting on your already wet folds. his arm flexes as he leans down to grab onto your waist, getting a good grip before slamming his cock into your tight cunt. he releases a bestial groan, throwing his head back as he bottoms out. 

you cry out loud, feeling your pure, tight, soft pussy being broken in, just like that. “l-luke! you—it hurts!” 

“shhh, baby, you can take it, yeah? thought you were a big girl?” he whispers, pulling back slowly. you whimper as he withdraws, your tiny body trying to suck him back in. he spits again, using it to lube his length. he spreads your legs wider, lifting your hips higher. you whimper and pout, looking for an ounce of sympathy from him. but… nothing. “b-baby, you said just the tip!”

you see his cock stiffen more as he prepares to push back into you. “i lied,” he mutters, slamming back into you. you howl, trying to push him out. “damn, you're tight,” he growls. he pulls back, then slaps, thrusting deeper. he grips your thighs, spreading your legs wider apart. “been keepin’ this from me for this long? tsk, tsk.” he smiles, clearly enjoying the pain you’re in.

he watches you throw your head back, tears spilling over. you’re barely taking an inch. can’t you calm down? he pulls back slightly, then slams again. “damn it,” he mutters. “spread your legs more,” he orders. 

as he thrusts, your breasts bounce beautifully, but you’re so cock-drunk you can barely speak. you babble, he destroys your walls. you babble, he fucks harder into you. it hurts. too badly. he knows this, but he doesn’t care. why would he? he’s finally getting what you’ve held off for years.

“fuck, fuck, fuck,” luke chanted, pounding into you like a jackhammer. your fingers curl, your toes curl, your whole body is curled in on itself as he fucks you into the mattress. he reaches between your legs, rubbing your clit in tight circles as he fucks you. this only worsens your already vegetative state, causing your thighs to tremble. he takes a hand off your thigh to hold on to your neck, softly gripping it as he fucks into you. 

how pretty you are, how delicate and beautiful you are.

“god, you sound so good,” he chuckles darkly, his fingers digging bruises into your thighs as he holds them apart. he hits something inside you, and you both feel it. he hits it repeatedly, each time making you whine louder.

but slowly, you come back to yourself. finally beginning to enjoy it. look at you. coming to your senses. 

"shit..." he notices the shift in your screams, from pain to pleasure. his pace slows slightly, but the intensity remains. he leans down, nipping at your ear. “ finally taking that dick like you’re s’posed to," he whispers, hitting that spot inside you with purpose now. 

"that's right, baby. take it. fuck, you feel so good," he smiles, licking his lips perversely, gripping your hips tightly. "touch your tits for me," he orders, his voice rough with pleasure. "play with them while i fuck you."

you look up at him through teary eyes, unintentionally batting your eyelashes so beautifully. “fuck, okay,” blood pricks on your bottom lip as you bite down, smiling at your beautiful boy.

your fingers catch your shared juices at the base of his cock, you take it and rub it into your chest, squeezing and pulling your breasts. “so good, m’gonna…”

PLAP, PLAP, PLAP.

"gonna what, baby?" he smirks, knowing exactly what you're trying to say. "cum for me? cum all over my big dick?" he reaches down and pinches your clit hard, sending you over the edge. "cum, baby."

PLAP, PLAP, PLAP.

that’s it, there you go, hm? you spasm and thrash when you cum harshly, cunt restricting around his length, more than it already is. it chokes him like it’s pulling the cum out of him.

he feels your pussy clamp down on him like a vice as you cum, the sensation pushing him over the edge. "fuck, babe! just fuckin’ take it!" he groans, slamming into you as he unleashes a warm load deep inside your cum-drunk pussy. 

PLAP.

he fucks his cum into you, knowing neither of you cares for a baby. “take it.”

…aaand after that, you never wanna take “just the tip” again. 

even when you’re both all tired, you still cockwarm. fully.

here u go! @giaaaarosaaaa ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Hiii! Can you do one with emperor caracalla and what he would be like as a father?? I’m in a drought of carcalla fics 😭

Emperor Caracalla as a father

Caracalla x wife!reader

warning : fluff, hurt/comfort, mention of family problems, a bit emotional, kissing

info : Anon I love you thanks for the request, Caracalla is just such a ray of sunshine he's only better as a father ;) I hope you enjoy reading and sorry for not having a cover, but today was exausting.

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything has always been ours, never his. He may have been the younger one, the one with the problems, the madness and the insufficient seriousness for politics, but that didn't mean everything had to be ours, did it?

No, it didn't have to be because where Geta was in charge of politics and dealing with the Senate, it was Caracalla whose position was used to provide an heir, a marriage to a princess only the best for the human gods. A marriage that didn't bother him a bit, he loved his wife with all his heart, from the moment he saw the golden dress, the jewelry but above all her loving nature was what had won him over.

His sun was at its greatest and the happiness of the imperial family was only surpassed when the priestess announced his wife's pregnancy...a pregnancy that would soon make him a father.

°Caracalla as a father from the moment he heard that his beloved was pregnant from him he cried, not breaking out of his madness for the first time and apologizing to her, ,,I-I...I'm responsible...as much as I'm happy...what if our child goes into madness?" a question he asked her kneeling, his head resting on her lap and his hands clutching her tunic. The moments in the here and now were hard enough and his condition touched her, her hand stroked his head and gently made him look at her, ,,Even if the gods are not merciful, Caracalla it is our child, our little one it would not change anything” she assured him and pressed a gentle kiss on his head.

°The months leading up to the moment of birth were up and down for all three of them, Caracalla getting more and more nervous, seeming to switch back and forth between delusion and his mind. His wife helped him as best she could, praying to the gods that it would not destroy him, and a Geta who took care of both of them. But from the construction of the nursery, the preparation for their birth and the cuddles, it was a time of harmony and love. Every day Caracalla put an ear to her belly laughing whenever he thought he heard something and helping his wife as much as he could, even Dundus seemed calmer and not too demanding of his owner as if they all knew what was at stake.

°The further her pregnancy progressed, the more excited he became, talking to her and his child as if it could already hear him, ,,Of course it heard us! It's a little monkey as often as it moves,” he said, kneeling in front of his wife, who was mostly still sitting or lying down because of her belly, not to mention the pain and discomfort. Whenever he saw the moving and kicking he let his hand wander over it with hers, ,,Just as excited as his father,” she said softly and gave Caracalla another reassuring kiss, giving her everything she needed, almost as excited as the child itself seemed to be...until the moment of birth.

°The late night was filled with screams, in the empress's room the midwives helping her as much as they could and outside a crying Caracalla whose worries were growing, ,,What if she dies brother? A child without a mother? It's my fault, my madness? The midwives will die if she dies” he mumbled to himself, pacing up and down, waving a sword only to throw it away, his brother's words barely calming him down. He looked as exhausted as his beloved when the door opened and he interrupted the woman, ,,Is my sun alive?” he asked ignoring his child and running to the bed, his hand seeking hers and only calming down when he saw her exhausted smile, ,,Yes...I'm alive and so is our little monkey” she said and the midwife gave her the little boy wrapped in a cloth. A little boy with his blue eyes and her hair, a little baby who smiled a smile that infected his father.

°From that moment on, he was smitten with his son, little Solis ortus, who everyone called Solis, from the Latin for sunrise. The little one was born with the sunrise and came from his mother the sun itself, he was the joy of his parents a little baby who almost always seemed too happy, ,,He is so loving...and not full of madness” Caracalla said and wiped away a few tears when he saw the now small child crawling on the floor and playing with a few small figures, ,,Yes he is perfect just like his father” his wife said and once again held his hand.

°The years passed quickly and even though the madness in him did not diminish, erupting again and again and more often, this did not even happen in front of his son, ,,Father is fine Solis don't worry” he pressed out and retreated to his chamber, where he could go about his business surrounded by swords and blood without hurting his wife or son or Geta. In the hours he was gone Geta took care of his nephew in the little free time she had to give the Empress some rest, ,,It seems there are often two to take care of,” she said, giving Geta a grateful look as she turned from her son to her husband.

°The hours with Caracalla were hours of grief and love, she held him through the madness, took the sword away from him and if he cut her, shouted at her or even hit her, she didn't hold it against him. ,,It hurts, but having you back with me again for sanity, with Solis, is more important,” she reassured him as they sat together leaning against the bed, his head against her chest, mumbling words to himself and he kissed her body apologetically and she held him. Before both parents slowly reappeared and took care of the little prince who was their pride and joy.

°Apart from the madness, Caracalla was a good father, the skills he didn't have in politics like his brother or the talent for music and writing like his wife, he made up for with fighting and wit, with understanding and love for animals. For every hour that the ever-aging Solis spent with his uncle in the senate, with his mother on the harp, he spent twice as much with his father in the arena studying and training the animals. Dundus belonged to Caracalla but Solis, at not quite ten years old, had a mature lion, the beast of a ruler, powerfull as a sun and yet always playful at heart. Solis would become the best of his parents and whenever Caracalla noticed that the madness was not in his son, he was genuinely happy and gave his wife a kiss.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@potatoesenpaii , @cottoncandiescupcakes , @k-yurieee , @somepallings , @userchai , @ohburrryoureabsolutelyridiculous

[theonlyonesora]

Breaking Down

Synopsis. When he breaks something valuable of yours in a fight.

Pairings. (SEPARATE) Lando Norris x Reader, Charles Leclerc x Reader, Carlos Sainz x Reader, Pierre Gasly x Reader

Lando Norris

You’re at his house in Monaco. The late afternoon light casts long shadows through the open windows. You sit cross-legged on the bed, his sweatshirt draped over your body, trying to calm yourself.

“I can’t read you,” he says, his voice flat. “I don’t know if you’re here because you want to be or because you just don’t know where to go.”

The sentence hurts. Too close to the truth. Or maybe too far.

“Do you think I’m using you?” you ask, your jaw clenched.

He throws his arms up. “I don’t know! You don’t talk to me anymore!”

And then his hand knocks over the candle on your nightstand—the one you lit every night when you missed home. The glass shatters. The wax spills. The flame goes out.

You look at him like something sacred has ended.

Lando falls silent immediately. His eyes flick to yours, wide and sad.

“I’ll buy you another one,” he offers weakly.

But you just whisper, “You can’t replace everything that breaks, Lando.”

He doesn’t know how to respond to that.

Charles Leclerc

Rain beats against the windows of your Monte Carlo apartment. A storm is approaching the coast. The apartment feels colder than it should.

You never imagined Charles would raise his voice. Not to you. Not like this.

But there he is—hands in his hair, pacing back and forth like a man coming undone.

“You always do this,” he snaps, his voice as harsh as you’ve ever heard it. “You walk away and expect me to fix it.”

“I’ve never asked you to fix anything,” you snap, gripping the edge of the counter and trying not to cry.

He points to the table where the chipped porcelain music box sits—a gift from your mother when you moved to Monaco. The one he knows means more than you’ve ever said out loud.

Your hand flies away. The music box clatters to the floor. Silence fills the room.

The melody never plays again.

Don't scream. Just stare at the broken pieces.

Charles exhales shakily, regret already welling in his eyes. "My love… I didn't mean to…"

But you're already pulling away, and something in both of you breaks forever.

Pierre Gasly

our elegant Parisian apartment. Your perfume hangs in the air, as do the echoes of words spoken too quickly, too loudly.

“You never stop looking back,” Pierre growls. “As if you’re still waiting for someone else to show up!”

You’re crying now, tired of this endless argument.

“I’m here. I chose you.”

“Then why do I feel inadequate?” he asks sharply.

You open your arms. “I gave you everything, Pierre!”

He reaches for the crystal frame on the mantelpiece—the one that holds a photo of your first trip together, smiling with champagne on a snow-covered balcony.

He doesn’t mean to. He slips.

Glass and memories shatter on the marble floor.

Your breath leaves your lungs.

Pierre freezes, horror in his eyes.

"I didn't mean to… mon cœur, I didn't…"

You kneel beside the broken picture frame, your tears silenced now. "You don't fix things by breaking them anymore."

And this time, you're the one who walks away.

Carlos Sainz

A warm afternoon in Madrid. The scent of citrus and tension hangs in the air. You’re in the garage of his family’s summer home, surrounded by memories and old tools.

“You don’t trust me,” you say, barely above a whisper. “Not with your heart. No way.”

Carlos leans against the counter, his eyes dark and his voice hard. “Because you keep proving I shouldn’t.”

Your heart races. “That’s not fair.”

“It’s true.”

Your gaze falls on the miniature go-kart on the shelf—his first go-kart, a tiny replica he let you keep for good luck. You grab it, needing something to hold on to.

He sees the movement, misinterprets it, and slams his palm on the shelf in frustration. The go-kart flies.

It hits the concrete. It shatters.

Silence.

"Fuck…" he sighs, instantly regretful.

You crouch down, picking up the broken pieces with shaking hands.

Carlos kneels beside you, his voice low and shaky. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt him. Or you."

You look up at him, your eyes brimming with tears. "But you did."

[the-fiction-witch]

What Happened At Driftmark P2

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Aegon Targaryen (Teen) Couple - Aegon X Reader Reader - Y/n (Princess) Rating - 18+ fingering/ eating out/ nudity/ pinv/ raw sex/ spanking/ squirting/ cockwarming Word Count - 1473

Requested -

bridgertonbee1814 asked : I would love to see a part two of this❤️😄

Warning - Teen Smut / Neice x Uncle

Aegon assaulted her neck with kisses, ripping her underdress to shreds, as he forced her down on the bed. His hands grabbed her breasts squeezing them and groping them with busy hands. He was more forceful than he needed to be but he was beyond caring. He kissed down her neck leaving a trail of hickeys in his wake. “Has any man touched you before little Neice?”

“No, my prince,” she admitted,

“Never?”

“Never.”

“Hummm… well then,” he growled, as moved his fingers to capture her nipples until they perked up pinching on them between his fingers and thumb. Tugging on them hard to force a moan from her lips before giving them a good hard twist which made her rub her legs together in this newfound excitement.

“My Prince!” She moaned arching her back,

He pulled back biting his lip hard before he kissed down her neck and chest before he nipped and sucked at her nipple, drawing it deep into his mouth.

“Ahh!” She moaned in pleasure her eyes rolling back,

“Ummm, such a desperate little thing aren’t you Y/n.” He barked, his eyes flicking down her body. He growled approvingly at the sight of her bare pussy. Kissing his way down her stomach, he spread her legs wide and brought his hand to her lips, “lick them for me,”

She obeyed taking his fingers into her mouth, licking softly on his index and middle finger,

Aegon cooed and praised her as she did, moving his fingers back and forth between her teeth and rubbing his fingertips against her tongue, “Suck.” He ordered,

Y/n did as he asked her eyes fluttering shut as she sucked on his fingers,

“Don’t stop.” he growled his other hand holding her jaw to allow his fingers to move faster and harder before he cursed and pulled out his soaked fingers, slipping them down to stroke her labia,

“Aegon!” she moaned her hips bucking up to his hand,

“Hummm…such a pretty little cunt.” he smirked rubbing her clit a little,

“Uuhhh uuuuughhhh!” She whined throwing her head back,

“Lets just see how… ooohh fuck-” He cursed as he slipped a finger inside finding her warm, soaked and throbbing for him, clenching down hard on his finger the moment it was inside, “Ohh you are just so desperate aren’t you,” He groaned, “Don’t worry little niece… I won’t keep this aching cunt waiting.” he whispered before burying his face between her thighs. His tongue flicked out, circling her clit before delving into her folds. He moaned in delight at how she tasted, lapping hungrily at her nectar.

“My prince!” She screamed her hips rubbing against his face,

Aegon continued his ministrations, flicking his tongue rapidly over her clit his hand coming down to thrust two fingers deep inside her dripping heat. He pumped them in and out, curling them to hit that perfect spot that made her cry out and buck her hips. “Mmm, you taste so fucking good,” he growled against her. “I could eat this sweet little cunt all day.”

She was writhing and moaning beneath him now, lost in ecstasy. Aegon could feel her inner walls clamping down on his fingers as she approached her peak. He quickened his pace, wanting to push her over the edge. "Mercy! Mercy My prince!" she begged, “I’ve never.”

“I know… I’ll give you your first, and you’ll beg me for more the rest of our lives.” He smirked,

“Please! Aegon!”

Aegon ignored her pleas, He pumped his fingers faster, curling them deeper inside her. His tongue worked on her clit, sucking and flicking until she thought she would explode. “Come for me, my sweet little niece,” he demanded roughly between licks. “You know you want to.”

His words broke her. The pressure inside her reached a breaking point and with a scream, she tumbled over the edge. Y/n screamed her back arching off the bed and squirting hard all over his face and bed, as this new feeling of pleasure flooded her for the very first time, Her pussy clamped down hard on Aegon's fingers as wave after wave of pure bliss crashed over her. "Aegon… my prince I…" she gasped,

"Humm did you like that?" he barked,

"Y-Yes… More… please…"

Aegon grinned wickedly as he licked her squirt from his lips sitting up to stare down at the mess of a princess he had left behind, “More?”

“Yes please Aegon,”

“I told you, you would.” he growled leaning down to kiss her,

She could taste her own sweetness on his lips and tongue as he invaded her mouth possessively.

Breaking the kiss, Aegon grabbed her waist and flipped her onto her hands and knees. He positioned himself behind her, running a hand over her ass. He gave one cheek a hard slap, watching it redden under his touch. “This what you want Y/n?” he demanded gruffly. “You know you want it.”

She nodded, too far gone in lust and submission to deny him anything.

Aegon moved slowly rubbing himself along her slit to coat his cock in her juices, before he pressed up against her cunt slipping slowly inside inch by inch,

Y/n screamed and moaned her eyes rolling back as he made his way deeper and deeper into her, feeling full and warm with him inside her.

Aegon groaned as he felt her tight heat clamping down on his cock. He was buried to the hilt inside her “Fuck,” he growled out. “You feel so damn good,” He pulled back slowly, savouring the sensation of her gripping him like a vice. Then he thrust forward, burying himself to the hilt in one deep stroke.

Y/n cried out as Aegon took her maidenhead, stealing it for himself.

Aegon threw his head back, a roar of pleasure escaping his lips as she sheathed his cock. Before he lost any sence of control he had and he began to fucked her hard, without mercy a slave to his pleasure and lust, as much as he had made her one to the pleasure he supplied.

“Y-yes… plea-” Y/n's words were cut off by a cry of pure ecstasy as he pounded into her.

Aegon reached around her hips, finding her clit with his thumb. He rubbed hard circles on the sensitive nub as he continued, “Cum for me again,” he demanded gruffly, speeding up his thrusts. “I want to feel you cum all over my cock.”

Y/n threw her head back, a keening wail escaping her lips as she obeyed his command. Her pussy clamped down on his cock like a vice, milking him of his seed.

Aegon's thrusts turned frantic, his grunts of pleasure filling the room. “Fuck,” he groaned out, his eyes rolling back in ecstasy. He spurted deep inside her, filling her with his seed.

"Aegon… aegon… my prince…" Y/n gasped unable to move anymore then collapsed down on her stomach,

Aegon collapsed on top of her, his chest heaving with exertion. Before he held her hips tipping them both to lay on their sides, with his cock still inside her. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, spooning her from behind as he stroked her hair gently. “Shhh,” he murmured softly, nuzzling against her neck. “…gods… Y/n…”

“Aegon?”

“Umm? Did you enjoy yourself Y/n?”

“Very very much,” she smiled, “But…”

“But?”

“But… we can’t ever do it again. What if our family found out.”

“I know,” he cursed, “stupid family.” He sighed, “But I don’t care what they say, they can’t keep us apart forever. One day I’ll be king, and I’ll make you my pretty little queen.”

“My mother will be queen.” She corrects him,

“Well then… you’ll be princess and heir to the throne. So one day You’ll be queen and I’ll be your handsome king.” he cooed, “But until then I will ride out on Sunfyre whenever I get the chance and you and I can can fly off somewhere secret and snug to fuck to our hearts content.”

“You mean it?”

“Would that make you happy my darling?”

“It would,” she blushed,

“Then I swear it by the old gods and the new.” he cooed kissing her cheek, “Come on, we should get back before we’re missed.” he smiled, “Ughhh fucking… ummm you hold on to me so tight,” He groaned having to use some decent force to pull out,

“Because I don’t want you to go,”

“Ohh believe me Y/n I wouldn’t go if we didn't have to.” He smirked leaning down to kiss her, “Perhaps I’ll redesign my saddle, just so I can have you sat on my lap with my cock inside your cunt the whole flight or the throne so when I’m - when one of us rules, we can sit and snuggle up inside you.”

“I’d like that.”

“I’d love that.” He smirked, “Come on before they kill us.” he laughed getting up to grab his clothes,

“My Prince?” she cooed,

Aegon turned back and Y/n was pouting purposely opening her legs for him, “yeah?”

“Mhm,”

“…Five more minuets.” he smirked jumping back into bed with her,

[inkbyme]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ MHA Characters When Their S/O Suffers a Quirk Overuse in Battle ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Featuring: Izuku Midoriya ✧ Katsuki Bakugo ✧ Eijirou Kirishima ✧ Shouta Aizawa ✧ Dabi ✧ Tomura Shigaraki ✧ Hawks ✧ Tenya Iida ✧ Shoto Todoroki

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

Reminder! These headcanons dive deep into the messiness of love, battle, and sacrifice. No sugarcoating—just raw emotion, high stakes, and what happens when the person you love pushes themselves too far to protect everyone… even if it almost kills them.

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

Izuku Midoriya

• The second your knees buckle, he’s gone. No hesitation. He launches into the fray with a scream that shakes the air.

• His usual tactics vanish—he goes full power, full rage, like he’s trying to erase the threat from existence.

• When he gets to you, his hands hover helplessly over your body, shaking.

• “No, no—stay awake, just breathe, please, I’m here—don’t leave me—”

• He’s crying, panic in every word. He keeps one hand wrapped around yours like a lifeline.

• Later, when you’re safe, he whispers: “You were amazing out there. But I can’t lose you, okay? Don’t ever do that alone again.”

⸻

Katsuki Bakugo

• You hit the ground and his heart stops. He doesn’t scream. He just moves.

• Every explosion is calculated—he tears through the enemy like a storm with a single goal: get to you.

• When he reaches you, he grabs you by the collar and pulls you up into his arms, voice raw.

• “You reckless idiot. Why the hell would you push it that far?”

• His hands are bloody from fighting, but he cups your face gently like you’ll break.

• At the hospital, he paces outside your room all night. If anyone asks, he says it’s dumb to sit still. Truth is, he’s scared to leave your side.

• “You’re mine, dumbass. You don’t get to collapse like that and leave me wondering if I’m too late.”

⸻

Shoto Todoroki

• He sees you fall—and for a moment, he just freezes. It’s not fear. It’s shock.

• Then he moves. Ice shoots across the battlefield, fire follows—precise, relentless, clearing a path straight to you.

• When he reaches you, he drops to his knees, pressing a trembling hand to your cheek.

• “You’re burning up… your body can’t handle this much…”

• He pulls you into his arms with surprising urgency, cradling you close to his chest. His usually calm voice is thin, breaking at the edges.

• “You didn’t have to do it alone. I was right here.”

• He doesn’t let go until you’re in safe hands. Even then, he stays close, eyes locked on you like he’s terrified you’ll disappear.

• When you wake up, his hand is already in yours. He just whispers: “Don’t ever do that again. We’re a team… and I love you too much to lose you.”

⸻

Eijirou Kirishima

• You drop, and he shouts your name so loud it cracks. There’s no hesitation—he charges in, hardened and furious.

• His punches come harder, faster—not just to win, but to reach you.

• When he finally gets to your side, he falls to his knees and scoops you up, rocking you back and forth like that’ll bring you back.

• “You did it… you saved us. But you didn’t have to do it alone, babe.”

• He won’t stop talking to you, even when you’re unconscious. “You’re strong. You’re still here. You’re gonna wake up and smile at me, yeah?”

• When you do, he’s crying and laughing at the same time.

• “Don’t scare me like that again. I need you here—with me.”

⸻

Shouta Aizawa

• You fall, and he’s already moving. His scarf wraps around enemies like a viper—no mercy.

• The second the field is clear, he kneels beside you, calm but terrifyingly focused.

• “Pulse is weak. She’s overheating.”

• His voice doesn’t shake, but his eyes don’t leave yours for even a second.

• He carries you back himself, silent. When the medics try to help, he gives them a look that could kill.

• When you wake up, he’s sitting beside your bed with his arms crossed. No words at first. Just watching.

• Then he finally says, quietly: “Next time, you tell me before you throw yourself into hell. We fight together, remember?”

⸻

Tenya Iida

• He sees you collapse and he’s already running, engines roaring.

• He takes down the rest of the villains with mechanical precision, but his eyes keep flicking back to you.

• The moment it’s safe, he dashes to your side, drops to his knees, and checks your vitals with trembling hands.

• “You gave everything. You were brilliant. But you shouldn’t have had to do that alone.”

• He helps lift you onto a stretcher, then insists on riding in the ambulance with you.

• When you wake up, he’s holding your hand tightly, eyes glassy.

• “Promise me something, next time, we fight side by side. Always.”

⸻

Hawks

• You fall, and it’s like time slows. His feathers move before his brain does—shields flying, blades launching, air slicing.

• He takes out everything in sight in seconds.

• He’s by your side immediately, lifting you into his arms, whispering: “Hey, hey, you’re okay. I’ve got you. I’m here.”

• His wings wrap around you like a blanket.

• He flies you straight to the medics, eyes locked on your face the whole time.

• When you’re finally stable, he leans against your bed, voice soft: “You scared the hell out of me, angel. No more of that. I need you alive, alright? Alive and mine.”

⸻

Dabi

• He sees your body drop and something inside him snaps.

• There’s no thought. Just blue fire. Uncontrollable. Unforgiving.

• He doesn’t even see the enemies anymore—just burns through anything between him and you.

• When he reaches you, his hands hover above you like he’s afraid he’ll hurt you more.

• “No, no—come on, don’t you dare do this to me.”

• He scoops you into his arms and runs—doesn’t stop, doesn’t look back, doesn’t trust anyone else to carry you.

• Later, when you’re stable, he sits beside your bed, quiet. The usual smirk gone.

• “You’re the only damn person I care about. Don’t ever do that to me again. I mean it.”

⸻

Tomura Shigaraki

• When you collapse, it doesn’t compute at first. Then it hits—and his rage boils over.

• He decays everything in sight. Whole chunks of the battlefield vanish beneath his fingers.

• He runs to you like he’s possessed, drops to the ground and gathers you in his arms, breathing hard.

• “What the hell were you thinking?! You weren’t supposed to—You’re not supposed to—”

• He cradles you like you’re the last thing holding him together.

• Afterward, he doesn’t let anyone near you. He stays posted up in your room like a guard dog with bloodshot eyes.

• “If you die, I die. So don’t even try it.”

Let me know if you have any feedback or if there’s any warnings I need to put on my post. I hope you enjoyed reading this!

[holyblonded]

dumb and dumber: babysitting | blue stars

pairings: alexia putellas x teen!reader, olga rios x teen!reader

summary: against her better judgement, olga leaves you and azulita to babysit valerie

notes: in estrella’s pov this time!!

“Okay, now remember that Val needs to be in bed by 7:00. 7:30 at the latest. Sometimes, just sometimes we go on to 8:00, but only if she’s had a nap, and you have to make sure she’s had the nap first, don’t just assume. And no, rubbing her eyes isn’t enough, she has to actually close them, because she fake-naps sometimes. She’s sneaky like that.”

You’re sitting cross-legged on the living room rug, Valerie tucked between your knees and currently trying to fit her entire fist into her mouth. Across from you, Azulita’s letting the baby stack squishy blocks on her head. Neither of you are listening. Not even a little bit.

Olga’s pacing back and forth behind you with the binder. The sacred, terrifying, overly annotated Baby Binder of Doom. Color-coded tabs. Page protectors. Laminated bedtime routine chart. You swear it has footnotes.

“She gets her bottle at 6:30, but not too hot! Shake it and test it first, on your wrist, not your tongue, because that’s not sanitary. Bath starts at 6:45, but only if she didn’t eat too slow. If she eats too slow, you can adjust the bath to 6:50, but no later than 7:05 or the whole schedule gets thrown off. I swear to God, if you throw off the schedule—”

Valerie lets out a shriek of joy as Azulita sticks out her tongue and pretends to sneeze. You grin and toss a stuffed giraffe at Azulita’s face. It bounces off and hits Val in the arm. She’s delighted. She kicks your thigh and drools in victory.

“She needs the bunny,” Olga continues, flipping a page like she’s briefing you for combat. “The bunny, not the bear, not the raccoon, not that weird dog Estrella got her from that random shop in Portugal. She needs the bunny or she won’t sleep. If the bunny is missing, I swear—”

“Uh-huh,” you mumble, offering Valerie a crinkly octopus. She throws it at Azulita’s head.

“Storytime must be one book. No more. She will manipulate you. Don’t fall for the pouty face. That’s how we ended up reading Brown Bear, Brown Bear six times in a row last week. We all suffered.”

“Totally,” Azulita says, balancing a plush cow on her forehead. “You’re doing amazing, sweetie.”

Olga doesn’t even pause. “No TV before bed. She only has 30 minutes left of screen time anyway. No fruit after six. And don’t let her near the remote. She knows how to change the channel now and she keeps turning on Spanish soap operas and mimicking the crying.”

You clap once. “Iconic.”

Then comes The Silence. You glance up. Olga is no longer talking. She is staring.

You and Azulita both look up slowly, like maybe if you don’t move too fast she won’t attack. She’s standing there, binder to her chest, face pure exasperation. She looks like a woman who is desperately trying not to scream.

That’s when Alexia walks down the stairs. She looks stunning, hair done, blazer over a fitted shirt, matching slacks. If Olga looks like she’s on the verge of a breakdown, Alexia looks like she wants the breakdown to happen so she can laugh at it.

“Everything alright?” Alexia asks, sauntering up behind the couch.

Olga doesn’t answer. She just continues to glare at the two of you. You start sweating. Azulita stops breathing. Valerie throws a block and says, “Taaa!”

Alexia leans forward, taps the back of both your heads like she’s knocking on a door. “Hey. Idiots. Pay attention.”

“Hey,” you say with offense. “I am a professional athlete.”

“You drooled on her sock ten minutes ago.”

You scowl.

Olga takes a deep breath. She sets the binder down with a finality that shakes you to your core. Then, she steps around the couch, stands over you, and says in a tone you’ve never heard before:

“Listen to me very closely. I am ten months postpartum. I have not left my baby alone for more than two hours since she was born. And tonight— tonight I am trusting you two, Dumb and freaking Dumber, to take care of the child I carried for nine months and pushed out of my vagina.”

You flinch. Azulita flinches. Valerie freezes mid-foot chew.

“You are all I have,” Olga says. “And if anything, and I mean anything, happens to my child, you will not be able to hide. I will find you. I will ruin you. You will wish for death. And then, after you wish for death, I will hit you with the binder.”

You nod. Azulita nods. You nod again. You can feel sweat sliding down your back. Your mouth is dry. Val blinks up at Olga and goes, “Ma?”

Then Olga brightens like none of that just happened. “Okay!” she chirps. “Love you girls.”

She kisses you on the forehead. Azulita too. Then Val.

Alexia’s dying. You can see it. She’s holding in laughter with her whole body. She kisses each of you like it’s a funeral, whispering “Good luck,” in your ear like you’re about to go to war. Then the door closes behind them.

You and Azulita just sit there in complete silence.

“…Did she say vagina?” Azulita whispers.

“Yup,” you reply, staring into the void. “She did.”

Valerie, unfazed, claps her hands and lets out a fart noise with her mouth.

You sigh. “Alright. Let’s not die tonight.”

Azulita picks up the bunny and nods solemnly. “For Val.”

You’re lying on the carpet, half-propped up by a pillow you stole from the couch, scrolling through the comments of the live chat with one hand while trying to pick a decent filter with the other. Azulita’s sitting cross-legged beside you, hair in a messy bun, hoodie halfway on, vibing hard as Lil Baby blasts in the background. You can’t lie, Valerie has taste. Kid’s been bouncing in her little baby bouncer for a solid ten minutes like she’s at a festival.

“She’s got rhythm,” Azulita notes, nodding with pride as Val bounces up and down on beat, plastic keys in one fist, sock in the other.

“She got it from me,” you say without missing a beat.

“She got it from her mother’s.”

“Semantics.”

The comments are coming in fast:

"Why are y'all babysitting?? Where is Olga??"

"Alexia left two teenagers with a baby I'm scared."

"IS THAT LIL BABY IN THE BACKGROUND."

"Please show Valerie dancing again I'm begging."

You ignore the comment asking to show Valerie, but take a peek at her, bouncing away like she’s been possessed by the spirit of the beat, drool flying, hair in her eyes, sock now hanging from her mouth like a cigar.

“She’s busy,” you narrate. “She’s got moves. Don’t worry about her.”

And then, mid-bounce, mid-glory, tragedy strikes. Her toy falls. There’s a two-second pause. You make the fatal mistake of thinking she’ll let it go. And then, WAILING.

“OH MY GOD,” you flinch so hard your phone nearly flies out of your hand. The chat immediately blows up.

“LMAOOOOO”

“HELP HER????”

“THE SCREAM??????”

Azulita launches up like she’s on a mission in a spy movie. “I GOT HER,” she shouts, diving for the bouncer.

You remain frozen on live like a deer in headlights, Val screaming bloody murder off camera while Azulita picks her up and starts doing the panicked baby rock. “Shhhh shhhh shhhh,” Azulita mutters. “We got the toy. It’s okay. Life is pain. Let it out.”

“Chat SOS,” you beg into the phone. “How do we get a baby to stop crying?”

"Did y'all feed her????"

"She hungry girl what time is it??"

"Why is Lil Baby still playing turn that OFF and give her a bottle."

"Y’all are literally the worst babysitters l've ever seen and I love it."

You glance at the clock. Your heart drops. “…It’s 6:30.”

Azulita gasps behind you. “FEED THE BABY.”

You end the live so fast. Phone down. Panic mode engaged. “Why didn’t you check the time?!” you shout, sprinting for the kitchen.

“Why didn’t you check the time?!” Azulita shouts back, still holding Valerie who is now actively trying to scream her way out of Azulita’s arms.

“I thought you were on top of it!”

“I’m on top of her! That’s enough!”

You yank the bottle out of the sterilizer and start pouring boiling water into it like your life depends on it. Which it might.

“Do you even know how to mix formula right?” Azulita accuses, hovering near your elbow like the world’s most chaotic nanny.

“Do you?” you shoot back. “I watched Olga do it once. That makes me basically qualified.”

“She was measuring things!”

“I measure with vibes.”

“That’s why I don’t trust you!”

You shake the bottle aggressively, cap it, and turn around to give it to Valerie, but Azulita steps back like you’re holding a weapon.

“Did you check the temperature?” she asks, eyebrows raised.

You glare. “She’s screaming!”

“She’ll scream harder if you give her lava.”

With the most dramatic eye roll in history, you tip the bottle and splash a few drops on your wrist. It’s fire. You scream like you’ve been shot in the arm.

Valerie goes completely silent. And then bursts into laughter. Like real, belly-deep baby giggles.

You stare at her in disbelief. “You enjoyed that?!”

“Iconic,” Azulita grins, rocking her gently. “She laughed at your pain. She’s one of us.”

You mumble something under your breath and start all over again, this time making sure the water is cooled, the formula is right, and no one ends up with second-degree burns. Finally, finally, you hand the bottle to Azulita and she slides it into Val’s tiny hands.

She drinks like she’s been stranded in a desert for days. Ten minutes later, she’s full, burped, and looking at you with those big, innocent eyes like she didn’t just try to rupture both your eardrums.

You and Azulita are collapsed on the couch in exhausted silence.

“…So, bath time?” you say weakly.

Azulita groans. “Binder says yes.”

You scoop up Val, who immediately tries to headbutt your chin, and take her to the bathroom. Setting her on the bath mat, you begin the struggle of undressing a baby who thinks everything is a game and nothing is real.

By the time she’s in the tub, the floor is a crime scene— clothes, toys, a lone sock, a giraffe for some reason.

Valerie, on the other hand, is having the time of her life.

She slaps the water like it insulted her. You are soaked within seconds. Azulita is trying to save her jeans. You’re trying to figure out how a rubber duck made its way into your hoodie.

“Why is she stronger in water?” you demand.

“She’s evolving,” Azulita whispers.

There are bubbles. There is chaos. You are playing with the little stacking cups and suddenly realize Valerie has abandoned her toys to splash the two of you mercilessly.

“She’s targeting us on purpose,” you say, blinking through water.

“She’s smart,” Azulita agrees, shielding her face with a frog toy.

Valerie grins. You’re both doomed. Soaked, exhausted, and humbled, you glance at the clock. It’s only 7:05.

You look at Azulita. “We follow the binder now.”

“Binder is law.”

Val slaps the water in approval. You salute and let the night continue.

Bedtime. It should be easy. That’s what you told yourself. You survived feeding. You survived bath time. You survived the Binder (capital B). Surely putting Valerie to bed is the victory lap. Spoiler: it’s not.

You’re standing in front of the dresser, holding a plain white onesie like it’s a gift from hell itself. “This is boring,” you declare. “She’s not a tax accountant. She’s a baby.”

“It’s soft,” Azulita argues, holding it up to your face. “Feel it. It’s got little clouds.”

“She deserves better.”

“She’s literally going to sleep.”

“She deserves better while she sleeps.”

And that’s how the two of you spend 12 full minutes rifling through her baby clothes like you’re styling her for New York Fashion Week. At one point Azulita tries to convince you to let her wear just a diaper and a cape “so she dreams she’s a superhero.” You tell her to shut up.

Eventually, you both gasp at the same time when you pull out a fuzzy cat onesie in Barcelona colors— dark blue and garnet, complete with little ears on the hood and a tail.

“Look at this masterpiece,” you whisper.

“She’s going to look like a tiny feline queen.” You high-five.

Valerie, for her part, squeals when you show her the onesie and kicks her feet. She knows style. You wrestle her into it with the grace of two people who clearly don’t know how baby limbs bend, and then immediately start a full-blown photo shoot like she’s Baby Beyoncé.

“You’re serving,” you tell her, snapping a photo.

“She is giving feline fashion excellence,” Azulita agrees, angling the light just right.

You post nothing because Olga would actually murder you if her baby ended up on your story without approval, but still, those pics are going in the archives. You send one to the youngsters group chat and Pina sends back seventeen heart emojis while Patri send an odd voice note of her making a cat sound.

Once the fashion show is over, you carry Val to her crib, carefully swaddled, looking like a sleepy little purring Culer. You sit down beside her and look at Azulita.

“Want to tell her a story?” you ask.

Azulita raises an eyebrow. “We don’t know any stories.”

“We make one up.”

“What kind?”

You think for a second. “The Three Little Pigs. But it’s us.”

She grins. “And the big bad wolf is Alexia.”

“Obviously.”

You lean over the crib dramatically, dropping your voice into a narrator tone. “Once upon a time, there were three little pigs. One was Estrella Pig— gorgeous, talented, the favorite.”

“Excuse me?” Azulita interrupts.

“Second was Azulita Pig—cranky, loud, and wore too much attitude.”

“You’re gonna catch hands.”

“And the third was Patri Pig, who was probably just chilling somewhere eating fruit.”

“Valid.”

“And then came the big bad wolf,” you growl, voice low. “ALEEEXIAAAA.”

Valerie is staring up at you both with eyes the size of dinner plates.

“She huffed!” Azulita says, getting into it. “And she puffed! And she told them to get up and go to training!”

“And the little pigs said NOOOO,” you wail dramatically.

Valerie blinks. You blink back. She blinks. Then she claps her hands.

You and Azulita beam. “She loved it!” you whisper.

“Maybe we should just read the Binder to her. It’s got chapters.”

You start flipping through the pages, trying to find the section on babies not sleeping, and find a line that says: If baby is struggling to fall asleep, try singing ‘Rock-a-bye Baby’ softly.

You and Azulita exchange a look. You try it.

“Rock-a-bye baaabyyy…”

“On the treeee tooooppp…”

Valerie screams like you just stepped on her dreams.

“ABORT,” Azulita yells, rocking the crib back and forth.

You panic and lift her out of the crib. “Okay okay okay! You hate lullabies! Noted!”

The three of you migrate to the couch like refugees of bedtime failure. You’re bouncing her gently. Azulita’s rubbing her back. Valerie is still sniffly and grumbling. You’re losing hope.

“Fuck it,” you mutter. “Alexa, play something.”

“Now playing: Not Like Us by Kendrick Lamar,” the Echo says.

You and Azulita freeze. But then… Valerie quiets. Like, completely. She blinks. Looks around and listens. Very intently.

You and Azulita exchange another look.

“Is this her song?” Azulita whispers.

“She’s unbothered. She’s vibing.”

By the second verse, her eyelids are drooping. Her grip on your hoodie loosens. By the third verse, she’s snuggled into your chest, breathing soft and even. You don’t dare move.

“Don’t move,” you whisper.

“I know,” Azulita says. “I think she booby trapped me with her foot.”

Eventually, you feel your eyes getting heavy too. The couch is warm. Valerie’s head is heavy on your shoulder. Azulita’s arm is pressed against yours. Kendrick is still going. You drift off.

When Alexia and Olga come home, it’s quiet. Too quiet for two teens and a baby in the house.

Alexia steps into the living room first, heels clicking softly. Her hand goes to her mouth when she sees the sight:

You, Azulita, and Valerie all passed out on the couch. The baby is still in her cat onesie, curled on your chest. Kendrick Lamar is playing Not Like Us on repeat.

Alexia is so amused. Olga comes in next, expecting disaster. When she sees you all asleep, her mouth opens.

“I don’t want to know,” she mutters.

Alexia shrugs. “They kept her alive. That’s all I asked for.”

Olga sighs, takes the fuzzy blanket off the back of the couch, and carefully drapes it over all three of you. She kisses Valerie’s forehead, then Azulita’s, then yours. Alexia does the same, grinning the whole time.

“Idiots,” Olga whispers fondly.

The lights are dimmed. The door to the hallway closes quietly.

And in the background, Kendrick keeps rapping softly into the night.

[nvtstvrns]

Quick - Chris Sturniolo

Soft!dom Chris, quick sex, fingering

Summary: You and the triplets are watching a Halloween movie when touchy Chris can’t keep his hands to himself and he starts fingering you under the covers.

TW: unprotected p in v, fingering, dirty talk, pet names (ma, pretty girl, good girl, etc), smut, almost getting caught

Chris, Matt Nick and I were watching a movie. They let me choose tonight because I have an unhealthy obsession with Halloween and I love watching Halloween movies. I was laying on my back with Chris laying on my chest his right hand resting on my right breast. Chris has always been really touchy and sometimes it’s a little overwhelming but most of the time I love it. His eyes are halfway open as we watch The Corpse Bride.

I feel his hand travel down to the waistband of my pants causing me to shiver gently. I look at him and his finger rests on his lips telling me to be quiet.

“Chris…” I whisper warning him to stop. He doesn’t. His hand now under my pants as his hand teases my clit through my panties. It was a weird position, his hand tightly in between his body and mine. He slowly drags his hand under my panties and brushes my clit gently. It sends sparks of pleasure through my body and my mouth reacts before I can stop myself and I let out a small whimper. Luckily it was covered up by a notification on Matt’s phone.

“Oh, pizzas ready, wanna pause the movie and come with me to get it?” Matt asks taking Chris’s attention away from me for a second. I let out a relieved sigh.

“I’ll come with you.” Nick says as he stands up pulling the blanket off of his legs. He stretches and groans.

“Y/n? Chris? You coming?” Matt asks looking at his cuddled up on the couch.

“I’m too lazy to move, and your fat ass brother won’t get off me.” I say giggling.

“Hey! I’m not that fat…” he says laughing. ���Yeah, we’re gonna stay here brother.” He tells Matt. I groan internally and know what’s coming for me when we’re left alone.

“Alright, we’ll be right back, don’t cause too much trouble.” Matt says as him and Nick walk down the stairs.

Chris waits until they’re gone and he pounces, wrapping a hand around my waist securely he lifts me up and kisses me deeply whilst putting me on his lap. “We got 15 minutes we’re gonna make this quick.”

Chris pulls my pants off followed by my panties and he throws them to the floor. Then he pulls his own pants down letting his dick spring free. I can feel my mouth watering and I have to shake myself out of the trance, everything is happening so quick.

the next thing I know he’s inside of me and I’m gripping his shoulders for support. He lets me get used to him and then he guides my hips moving them back and forth slowly. My body reacts quickly starting to move on my own at a faster pace. I look down at him through hazy eyes and he was looking at me with pure admiration. His hands resting on my hips as I ride him.

I take his hand and I guide it under my shirt to cup my breasts. He reacted by taking the shirt off to admire my whole body. “Goddammit ma…you look so good riding my cock…” he says his head leaning into my neck as he kisses it sucking on the supple skin and leaving love bites.

“Chris—I-I’m so close….” I say my hips moving in an irregular pattern. He thrusts his hips up into me causing me to scream as he hits my cervix. My legs were shaking way too tired from all of the pleasure. With a final weak cry I hit my orgasm throwing my head back.

I ride out my orgasm moving my hips gently. My head lays on Chris’s shoulder and we breathe heavily. “I love you pretty girl…” he says. I laugh and I nod. “I love you too…”

after a minute I hear the rumble of the car pulling into the garage. My body reacts fast, I get off of him and I find my clothes. I find my bra and hoodie on the couch and I can’t find my panties and sweats.

“Chris where are my pants.” I ask frantically.

“I don’t know I threw them.” He says getting up to look with me. I hear the door open and I look under the couch finally finding them. I put my legs through the panties and pull them up quickly. Matt and Nick get on the last step as I pull my pants up, spotting me pull them up just over my thighs.

“We left for fucking 15 minutes bro. Do you ever keep your hands off each other?” Matt asks throwing his keys on the kitchen table.

“Yeah. Sometimes…” I say gently. Chris giggles and I hit his chest. “It’s not funny.”

we finally get to finish the movie in a normal position, I was laying my head on Chris’s shoulder, his arm wrapped around my shoulders as he traces small circles on my arm. His other hand held a piece of pizza.

“I love you pretty girl.” He says holding me a little tighter.

“Love you too Chris.”

[sturniololuvz]

“Sometimes love isn’t enough”

Chris sturniolo x fem reader

warnings: Angst, fighting, crying , throwing things. usage of “y/n”

The storm outside mirrored the tempest brewing inside the small apartment. Y/N paced back and forth, her hands trembling as tears streamed down her face. Chris stood across the room, his face contorted with frustration and anger.

"Why can't you just listen to me for once?" Y/N screamed, her voice cracking.

"I am listening! But you never make any sense!" Chris retorted, his fists clenching at his sides.

Y/N grabbed a nearby vase and hurled it across the room, shattering it against the wall. "You never understand me! You never even try!"

Chris flinched as the vase shattered, but his anger only grew. "Oh, so now it's my fault? You're the one who always blows things out of proportion!"

"Blows things out of proportion?" Y/N's voice was a mix of disbelief and fury. "You don't care about anything I feel! You just brush it off like it doesn't matter!"

Chris took a step closer, his eyes blazing. "That's not true, and you know it! But how am I supposed to care when you won't even talk to me properly?"

Y/N's sobs grew louder as she sank to the floor, her hands covering her face. "I can't do this anymore, Chris. I can't keep fighting like this."

Chris's anger wavered, replaced by a hint of desperation. He knelt down beside her, reaching out but hesitating to touch her. "Y/N, please. We can work through this. We always do."

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes red and swollen. "I'm so tired, Chris. I'm tired of feeling like this."

Chris's voice softened, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I don't want to lose you, Y/N. We can fix this. We have to."

But Y/N shook her head, the pain in her eyes cutting through him. "Sometimes love isn't enough, Chris."

The words hung heavy in the air, each syllable a dagger to Chris's heart. He watched as Y/N stood up, her steps unsteady but resolute. She walked to the door, pausing only for a moment before she turned the knob.

"Y/N, wait," Chris called out, his voice breaking.

But she didn't turn back. The door closed behind her with a finality that echoed through the now silent apartment, leaving Chris alone in the wreckage of their love.

AU note: i’m on my grind right now so please expect way more, and let me know what yall would like to see, send me requests.hope yall liked this!!!

[sevikaswifefr]

liar

pairing: tara carpenter x female reader

warnings:

“YOU’VE LIED TO ME OUR WHOLE RELATIONSHIP.”

Tara’s small demeanour is slightly intimidating as she paces across our shared bedroom, her hands tearing at her hair.

“Baby please let me explain.” While her voice is loud mine remains soft and calm trying to keep the peace.

“Don’t.” She only stops pacing to extend her hand in my face. “Don’t even speak right now. I can’t believe you.” She groans once again resuming her stalking back and forth.

I open my mouth to present my own opinion when footsteps echo outside the door.

“What’s all this arguing?” Sams home, of course she’s home now. She doesn’t even knock as she barges in the bedroom threatening glares already set on me. Raising my hands I back away from the older Carpenter.

“No not arguing, not arguing. Tara’s just in shock. Isn’t that right?” I give Tara a look begging her not to let her sister go ape shit on me but she doesn’t even glance my way.

“Y/N has lied to me our whole relationship. Six months. All lies.” Tara’s fingers drag down her face as she rats me out to her sister, the sister who instantly stands taller and sends a menacing glance my way.

“Lied about what?” Sam speaks softly to her distraught sister one hand tucking Tara’s flyaways behind her ear.

“She has a tattoo. A tattoo for crying out loud and she didn’t even tell me.” Tara whines frowning at the floor.

Sams face falls, her hand dropping to her side. “Seriously? Your upset because your girlfriend has a tattoo?” Sam sighs. Tara nods with a childish pout.

“I’m just gonna leave you guys to it.” Sam smiles apologetically at me before closing the bedroom door once again leaving the two of us alone.

“Baby, your overreacting. Even Sam agrees. It’s not a big deal.” I breathe standing up from the bed to interrupt her pacing. Tara glares up at me, her lips forming a thin line.

“Do not tell me I’m overreacting. You lied. You liar.” Tara pouts gently smacking my chest with closed fists. Stifling a chuckle I grab her wrists softly and lean down to kiss her knuckles smiling at the blush spreading along her cheeks.

“Would you feel better if I showed you the tattoo again?” I ask. Tara whines throwing her head against my chest. “Yes.” She mumbles under her breath.

Taking off my shirt and my bra, I lay back on the bed turning onto my stomach and exposing the tattoo of a black spider situated on my shoulder blade. My skin twitches slightly as Tara’s fingers move over the bare skin, tracing the edges of the spider legs.

“I can’t believe I’ve never noticed this before.” She sighs her palm pressed flat over my spine. “I hate that I never noticed before.” Her voice is merely a whisper as small fingers dance over my tattoo again.

“Baby it’s ok. It’s not like your ever really looking at my naked back, it’s my front your more preoccupied with.” And with that I manage to turn over now laying on my back and gazing up at the woman with such adoration her cheeks glow red.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She asks with a frown still however moving to lay her chin on my chest, her lips resting against my collarbone.

“You never asked.” I shrug causing Tara to scoff. “If you get another one. Tell me.” She grins before pressing her lips hard against my neck. “Or else I’ll be forced into doing something that you will not enjoy.” She purs.

I whine softly as her hands move down my bare stomach, playing with the band of my pants occasionally dipping slightly further down.

“So have you guys worked it out?” Once again Sam doesn’t knock, instead opening the door wide.

“Get the fuck out.” Tara screams at her sister who stands slack jawed at the door. Sam says nothing as she closes the door muttering to herself softly.

“Fucking cockblock.” Tara groans laying her head in the crook of my neck. I chuckle pressing a kiss to the side of her head. Silence encompasses us for a few seconds before Tara shuffles around slightly.

“Can I start taking you from behind now?”

[ervotica]

i’m on the run with you (my sweet love)

pairing; rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings; sorta dark? but not really bc this is just rafe in character lol, established relationship, rafe is insane but also cute (i <3 deranged men), rafe is violent towards r and he cries a lot, 1k words

summary; you've reached the end of your tether with rafe's bad behaviour. just how far will he go when you try to leave?

He's so loud. It rings in your ears even as you walk away from him, trying to put distance between yourself and his growling; he's almost animalistic as he stumbles against the concrete sidewalk and grapples for purchase against your bare arm, a desperate attempt to get you to stay. Rafe has never been one to ask nicely for things. His rings leave a cold bite on your forearm and you sob, snatching out of his grasp even as he wails and cries.

"Rafe, stop," you're begging, pleading with him not to make a scene. He's flushed pink right down to his toes as he shakes, hands reaching out for you in a way that almost makes you reconsider leaving.

"You can't leave me," he says. Plain and simple, as though it's a fact. He's incredulous that the thought would even cross your mind in the first place- let alone that you're brave enough to try. "You can't."

"Rafe, this is unstable. I can't live like this anymore." Tears clog in your waterline and you sniffle and gasp, the back of your hand coming up to press against your open mouth. "I don't wanna do this. You've left me no other choice."

"No-no other choice?" he laughs through tears and grit teeth, an odd sound that gets lodged in his throat and then pushed out with a sob. "No other choice?"

He's alight with fury, pacing back and forth, gnawing on his fingernails as his hands flex, desperate to grab hold of you.

"Stop, you're scaring me," you murmur; stepping backwards away from him, a rock wedges in the sole of your sneaker and you lose balance. Just as you're about to hit the hard ground, Rafe surges forward, a thick arm wrapping around your waist and pressing you to his chest. The heat is emanating off of him in waves, coursing over you as his iron grip tightens.

"I'm scaring you, huh?" You're trembling as he whispers in that snarling way that he does- the tone that's usually directed at others, but never you. You don't like being on the receiving end of his wrath. "There'd be nothin' to be scared of if you just did as you were told, baby. Why do you insist on making everything so fuckin' difficult for me?"

You start to really cry then; in the middle of the street, sputtering in fits and starts, sagging in Rafe's hold when he shushes you and presses his palm to the top of your head to draw you into him.

"Shh, shh, I know," he mumbles, a thick bicep drawing tight as he wraps himself around your neck, quiet words vibrating against your skin.

"Why do you keep doing this to me?" you wheeze against his shoulder, the cotton of his jersey soft as you rub your face on it in an effort to hide. "Why does it have to be like this?"

"It doesn't. It doesn't, okay? Let's go home and we can talk about this."

His arms shift your weight until he's lifting you, hooking your legs up and over him and carrying you to the car parked a little way away. In one last futile attempt to free yourself, you kick out, squirming.

Not that it makes much difference; he has the passenger door opened despite your resistance and then he's trying to force you in.

"No! I don't want to. Rafe, stop it."

"Baby, get in the car."

There's an edge to his voice and you know if you push him much further he's going to snap. He's like a coiled spring, and he'll lash out at whoever's closest.

"No, please," you sniffle. "I don't wanna go."

"Get in the damn car!" he screams, and you cry out as he throws you through the gap; your head hits the top of the door with a thump and you moan, curling in on yourself on the leather seat.

He slams the door and stomps around the front, brow knit, lips pursed as he climbs into the driver's seat.

He takes a breath. The mist starts to clear from his eyes. You're still doubled over, fingers splayed over the forming bruise on your forehead.

"Angel," he murmurs, reaching for you. "Baby, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

You swat his hand away and wince at the throbbing in your temple. His breath quickens and you can feel how he convulses; from experience, he's around 3 minutes from a total meltdown.

"Rafe, calm down," you say, blindly reaching for him to placate his temper, if nothing else. "It's okay, I'm fine."

He coughs and snivels, clenched fists pressed to his eyes to conceal the tears. He's frozen with them, silent as he sobs and brings his head up to slam it against the steering wheel. You swivel in your seat, hands pressing to the sides of his neck in an attempt to keep him still.

"No, baby, no," you sniff. "Come here. I'm sorry."

He starts to turn towards you, his eyes swollen and red-rimmed as he hiccups. And then he's climbing right over the armrest and into your lap. It's comical, really; this huge, hulking boy crawling into your arms like a puppy.

He curls around you, laying between your thighs, his legs bent awkwardly in the footwell as he presses his face to the hollow of your throat.

"I'm sorry," he cries. "I just love you so much, I don't want you to go." His voice cracks and he wraps his arms around your middle, slipping cold fingers beneath your t-shirt to feel your bare skin.

"I'm not going," you murmur. Your lip quivers as you stave off tears. "But we need to get this under control, Rafe. I need you to try to get better."

"I will. I will, I promise. I'll be better for you."

You tilt his chin up and his watering eyes meet yours. You slot your lips between his and sigh when his whole body softens against you.

"I love you," you tell him. "We'll get this under control, okay?"

You suppose only time will tell.

[that-tmr-girl]

Thomas A-Z Smut Challenge

Aftercare(What he's like after sex):He cuddles you while talking to you. He asks how you are, tells you how much he loves you, and makes you laugh as you have lighthearted but sweet conversations.

Body(His favorite body part of yours):Your stomach. He likes to kiss down your body and take his time when he has self control.

Cum(anything to do with cum):He's really afraid that one day he's going to forget to pull out and cum inside of you despite it having never happened. He just gets really in the moment so it's a secret fear that one day he'll be a little too into you.

Dirty secret(self explanatory):Sometimes you'll scratch his back when you're close without realizing, and he actually likes it so much more than he'll ever admit.

Experience(How experienced is he):He has a little with Brenda.

Favorite position(self explanatory):All of them, but he's really into switching them on you. The way you make a surprised gasp and moan when your face screws up in pleasure is everything to him.

Goofy(is he more goofy or intimate):He keeps it really lighthearted and fun (dirty pick up lines, playful teasing, acting like he's going to kiss you in one spot before kissing another), but if it's makeup sex or after a serious day he makes it purely romantic.

Hair(how well trimmed are they):He's right in the middle.

Intimacy(how intimate is he):He calls it making love instead of just sex so that should say everything.

Jack off(masterbation headcannons):He purposely works you up when you can't have him for a while because he knows it'll make you horny, and the fact that you're already going to want him means leads to him handling it just a little before getting back to it.

Kink(one or more of his kinks):Roleplay, sounds you make, and the risk of getting caught.

Location(favorite place to do it):On the couch. It's risky enough that someone could walk in but realistically won't. Plus, he gets to carry you to bed or the bath when you struggle to walk after.

Motivation(what turns him on/gets him going):When you both flirt back and forth.

No(something he'd never do/turn offs):He can't handle it when you cry. Even if it's from overstimulation, he has to stop because he's scared he's going to hurt you or that you're secretly not enjoying it but don't want to tell him.

Oral(does he prefer to give or receive it):It's 50/50. He'll gladly throw his head back as you suck him off just as much as he'll lick your thighs after eating you out.

Pace(is he fast and rough or slow and sensual):He's so soft and gentle, but his pace really depends on whatever the current atmosphere is.

Quickies(his opinion on quickies and how often):He doesn't mind them. Even if it means neither of you finish, he knows you'll find time later. If you do, it was just another amazing orgasm so there's no losing.

Risk(is he down to experiment):Yes but not a lot at once. He needs to build up to changes and do some sort of mild test run on extreme stuff. He can't just dive right in.

Stamina(how many rounds can he go and how long):He can go for around three decent long ones. He's built a lot of strength so it takes a lot to tire him out.

Toys(does he use/own toys):He personally doesn't, but he wouldn't turn down trying them out if you wanted to and adding some to the list.

Unfair(how much does he like to tease):He's always testing your patience and does it with such wide doe eyes and an innocent face, which drives you even more crazy.

Wildcard(freebie):He kisses and rubs any mark he left on you after.

Volume(how loud is he and what sounds does he make):He doesn't understand the word silence. He'll groan, moan, and he's straight up screamed your name before. Even when he bites his lips, some sound always escapes.

X-ray(size):He's too big for your entire mouth so you have to use your hands for what doesn't fit when you blow him. That's all that needs to be said.

Yearning(how high is his drive):He's always ready to go.

Zzzz(how long does it take him to fall asleep after):He stays up way after you, just staring at the ceiling and thinking about how even though it was such a long and painful journey, he's glad it led to you and him waking up in the same bed every day.

[thehatboxwitch]

camming with hsr characters

fem!reader, rest under the cut

jing yuan films with his phone on a stand at the foot of his bed and doesn't use any toys, but his charm more than makes up for it - he certainly knows how to put on a show. his silver hair, in particular, draws in a lot of fans who are into older men.

"nnh- ah- so full, too fu-ah~"

jing yuan clasps you by your hips, spreading your asscheeks wide to gain better access to that sweet spot deep inside you. every thrust squelches obscenely, and your walls flutter frantically, trying to keep all his cum in.

oh, your pussy is so sweet, so messy on camera, all flushed and swollen, your clit pulsing from all the attention it'd gotten. everything's covered in a sticky web of his cum, dripping out in globules, leaking out from both your holes, yet he keeps going, his veins scraping against every nerve ending you have inside you.

"yuan! yuanyuanyuan ah~ please- 'm cumming, cumming, inside, please, cummingcumming-"

your walls slam tight and jing yuan orgasms too, throwing his head back and moaning. you squirt all over his dick with a cry of his name, begging and begging for more.

blade never shows his face, but it’s not like he needs to. his toned physique, warm, gritty voice, and best of all, scars, do all the work for him.

he lies back, watching you with glittering eyes as you try to get yourself off on his cock. he's never seen his chat this excited before - they must think you just as sexy as he does.

you rock your hips back and forth, moaning when his cock twitches against a spot you'd been dying to reach. "wanna cum, wanna cum..." you whimper, half to yourself, switching to bouncing.

"wanna cum?" he coos, his thumb flicking across a nipple. you look heavenly on camera, your ass and boobs rippling so sweetly, glistening with sweat. he could get off to this video alone.

"then cum." he grabs onto your hips and fucks into you at a monstrous pace. you scream and dig your nails into his wrists to anchor yourself, rewarding him with "ah"s and "too fast"s each time his tip kisses your cervix.

[sinsmockingbird]

STEALING THE PRIZED GEM | Tetra (Edge of Nightfall)

PAIRING: Tetra x Afab!Reader

WARNINGS: Smut, NSFW, Sub!Reader, Dom!Character, Consensual Kidnapping, Gentle Sex, Loving Sex, Fingering, Praise, Nicknames (Tetra calls you gem)

AUTHORS NOTE: Being stolen by a handsome woman like Tetra? Yeah I wouldn't mind, because it just tells me how I'm the most valuable gem to her.

BEING THE daughter of powerful, rich parents always meant you had to attend the extravagant banquets and balls that they would throw. You never enjoyed them, but you went because you had to in order to uphold your family name and image.

You were standing off to the side of the ballroom, trying to give yourself a moment of reprieve from the amount of people you've had to converse with that night. You were only an hour in and already you were exhausted, feeling that familiar headache beginning to make itself known.

If you had it your way, you'd be at home in your apartment, dressed in your pajamas cuddled up on your couch watching stupid Rom Coms with your beloved girlfriend. Who sadly wasn't around, not that she ever could be, leaving you alone and basically suffering in silence.

But then everything changed when the lights in the grand ballroom went out, making gasps and shouts arise. Then a spotlight shined down, illuminating a small terrace above, where someone could be seen sitting on the edge of the rail, dressed in a pristine suit. But it wasn't just anyone, it was your beloved.

"Attention ladies and gentlemen!" Tetra's voice rang out loud and clear, and you could feel your heart hammering in your chest in fear of what your girlfriend was about to do. "Apologies for interrupting the party, but I came here to pick up a very special lady."

Tetra's eyes roamed over the crowd of people, searching for a specific person, searching for you. And when she found you in the crowd, you could see a smile spread across her lips, and in that moment you really began to fear for not only her, but yourself as well. Because what was this fox planning?

"Well there she is, the prized woman I came for," With those words, you watched in horror as Tetra pushed herself off the rail and over the terrace.

You let out a cry of panic, fearing that the woman was plummeting to her death, but in a flash of movement she swung her body, and used the chandelier she held onto to propel herself into your direction. You had no time to react or process what was happening until Tetra was wrapping an arm around your waist, tugging you close against her body and pressing a button on the side of her belt.

Suddenly you were lifted off the ground and heading up towards the windows on the ceiling, where one was missing and allowing you into the cold, crisp air of the night.

As soon as your on the roof and Tetra is setting you on your feet, she let's out a wistful laugh, ignoring the screams below as she holds you tight. "Well that went better than expected!"

"B-Better than expec- Tetra what the hell!" You yelled, pushing yourself away from her, eyes wide with shock and disbelief as you stare at her. "What was that?!"

Tetra raised an eyebrow at your sudden outburst, though kept her distance as you began to pace back and forth in front of her. "That was me saving you from another one of your parents boring balls."

She said it so simply and matter of fact, that you stopped and looked over at her in disbelief. You saw her adjusting the suit you just noticed she was wearing, and you had a momentary pause of checking her out. You had to admit, Tetra could pull off a suit so well.

"That was more you kidnapping me, actually," You mumbled, averting your attention away from her when she met your gaze, a small flush spreading across your face.

"Was it really kidnapping?" Tetra cocked her head to the side, seemingly just realizing that her actions were indeed considered kidnapping. She had simply seen it as saving you since the moment she had the idea.

"Yes, it was," You can't help but let out a laugh, shaking your head at your girlfriend. "You know you've really just earned yourself on my parents bad side, officially."

"Like I wasn't already," Tetra muttered, chuckling softly under her breath before she tilted her head to the side, hearing the sound of approaching sirens. She then looked back at you, holding out one of her gloved hands. "So the police don't catch me... is it alright if I wisk you away from here?"

You rolled your eyes at her, but you couldn't help the fluttering of your heart at her actions. So you didn't hesitate to take her hand. "Yes, you now have my permission to go through on my kidnapping."

"At least now I have your consent," Tetra smiled, raising your hand up and pressing a gentle kiss against the back of it, making you flush further.

⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺

Once you had made it to your apartment, far away from the ball, it didn't take long for Tetra to have her lips against yours. You had barely unlocked the door and stepped in when she gently cupped your face and leaned forward, capturing your lips in a deep kiss. It left you flushed and dizzy, the feelings only this phantom thief could arise out of you.

"At least let me enter my own home before you do that," You mutter with a small laugh, locking your front door behind you both and leaning your back against it as Tetra moved her hands down to your waist.

"Sorry, not sorry. I just couldn't keep my hands off you any longer," Tetra stated, her hands caressing your hips while she gazed down at you with a love you knew was only reserved for you.

"I think you mean your lips. Your hands have been all over me since my kidnapping," You pointed out, making the thief chuckle in amusement before her eyes roamed across your body, drinking in the sight of you in the dress you were wearing.

"Well, with that dress on, you really can't blame me for not being able to keep my hands off you," Tetra purred, her voice becoming low and seductive as a predatory look entered her eyes, something that made you gulp.

Your hands tightened their grip on her suit jacket, your face flushing more as you felt her tug your hips forward until you were flush against her body. You let out a small sound, something that had Tetra chuckling under her breath before her lips were on yours again.

Things were a bit of blur after that until your back was flush against your bed, your dress and undergarments discarded, leaving you bare for Tetra's eyes. She took you in like a predator assessing their prey, her movements smooth and methodical as she undressed in front of you, until she was only in a pair of boxers and a sports bra.

"My precious gem," Tetra whispered while crawling onto the bed and moving over you. One of her hands glided down your body, making your back arch and allowing her eyes to admire you looking so beautiful under her. "My prized jewel."

Her words send a shiver up your spine, knowing that no matter how many priceless artifacts and jewels she's stolen, in her eyes, you were the most priceless gem she's ever caught.

You suck in a breath as you feel Tetra's hand move between your legs, which unconsciously spread apart for her. You whimper as soon as her fingers make contact with your dripping core, and you hear her groan softly under her breath as soon as she feels how wet you are for her.

"You're so wet, gem," Tetra murmurs, making you hum. She leans down to kiss your neck, being loving and gentle while she begins to push two fingers inside you.

You gasp and quickly wrap your arms around her shoulders, holding onto her tightly as you take her fingers into you so perfectly. Your breathing is heavy as you adjust to the intrusion, feeling Tetra pepper kisses all over you while singing you praises. For a phantom thief, she could be so loving and gentle when it came to you.

"You can start moving..." You whisper, leaning your head back against the pillows, lightly biting your bottom lip while giving her a look that always had her knees buckling.

"I promise to be gentle," With those words, Tetra began to slide her two fingers in and out of you, stretching you wider and causing pleasure to shoot up your spine.

Tetra was true to her word, being gentle and loving with you, taking her time with giving you pleasure. It was all you needed, being with her and feeling every ounce of love she had for you through her delicate touches and movements. She treated you like you were the most priceless jewel she was stealing, and in a lot of ways, you were.

It felt amazing, feeling her lithe fingers dragging in and out of your pussy, her blunt fingernails rubbing against your walls. It was really no surprise that you were already getting close. Tetra knew your body so well, knowing exactly how to quickly work you to the edge.

"I-I'm getting close..." You whispered, your arms tightening around her shoulders, one of your hands tangling itself into her silvery hair.

"Mmm, cum for me, gem," Tetra purred, working her fingers a bit faster, while her thumb moved up to rub small, but firm circles onto your clit.

It had you tumbling over the edge not too long after, your voice rising in pitch and body shaking and tensing as you came all over her fingers. Tetra kissed all over your face and shoulders, whispering more praises to you as you began coming down from your high. You were still shaking slightly, trying to catch your breath as you recovered.

You couldn't help but giggle afterward as Tetra pressed kisses against the tip of your nose and the corners of your mouth. She smiled, finally laying a kiss onto your lips, deep and loving.

"You're such a fox," You muttered as soon as Tetra kissed you, making a grin spread across her lips.

"I'm aware of that. There's a reason why I'm known as the Fox," Tetra teased, making you roll your eyes and lightly hit her shoulder.

"Shut up," You stated, a smile on your face.

"Mm, make me," The challenging smile Tetra gave you made you narrow your eyes at her, and you happily took the challenge.

You made a sudden move and flipped her onto her back, straddling her waist and pining her wrists above her head. Tetra's eyes were wide, shock evident at your bold moves, before a laugh fell from her lips, and she relaxed against your bed, looking forward to what you had planned for her.

"Call this some revenge for my kidnapping," You smiled, your free hand moving down her body, feeling her muscles flex under your touch, before grabbing the hem of her boxers and tugging them down.

ENDING NOTES: Tetra has always been one of those characters I've held a bigger love for than what I portray, so I went a little wild on writing this for her.

[edgeray]

One Hell of a Butler Pt. 3

Nightmare (Arlecchino x Fem! Reader Blurb)

A/N: Since y'all seem to really like the demon butler concept, I made another one, also because I wanted to. This one isn't quite as long or plot heavy, but I thought this was cute and I was in the mood for hurt/comfort. I'm such a sucker for this trope. Content Warning: Semi-graphic descriptions of violence, panic attack Series Masterlist

Crimson blood. Fractured bones. Broken limbs. You lie on the ground, shivering, panting, crying. Your muscles betray you, unwilling to obey your command to move as you could do no more than stare. Your legs are limp, only dead weight as you try to crawl in what's a pool of your own blood, you presume. The sting of your aching fingertips sears through your mind, dragging yourself across the floor through sheer grip strength. You don't get very far with your pace, you're far too exhausted and injured to escape. Drowsiness overwhelms you and your eyes beg for rest. Everything blurs, you're only able to make out the color of the concrete floor and the scarlet that seeps from your body. 

A shadow approaches, looming over you as it nears, reaching out its hand. 

And you lurch forward, jolting awake. 

Heart palpitating and breath panting, you wake up to sweat-covered silks and a dark bedroom, alone. You clutch your chest as the closest attempt of grounding yourself, your nails digging into your skin as you struggle against the bed sheets. Finally, you're released from the silk confines, and anxiously flounder over to your nightstand, a shaky, desperate hand searching for the nearest light source: the nightstand lamp. You turn it on after another few moments of fumbling for the switch and then the room illuminates slightly, enough to allow you to find the handle of the knife beside the bed. Your eyes skitter back and forth across the length of your bedroom in search of anyone, and realize, with a shuddering relieved exhale, that no one was there.

Still, the hold on the handle doesn't loosen one bit. You sit up right in your bed, your panicked and alert mind anticipating for an intruder to come in, a monster to come out of the shadows. 

Then there's a knock. On the door. 

Everything inside you stiffens, your gaze hyper fixated on the door as you raise the blade in your hand to a ready position. Another series of knocks occur, and then the doorknob turns with an audible creak that echoes throughout the still room.  

Metal flies from your hand as you throw the knife with pinpoint accuracy at the newcomer, but the figure merely catches the blade in between two blackened fingers. You don't even manage to register the extraordinary feat that was just done, only the onslaught of terror that reigns over your thoughts, ridding all sense of rationality and awareness. 

They've come to hurt you, they've come to hurt you, they've come to h-

“My Lady?” a familiar voice sounds out, one that you found comfort in. You search for it, but she's not there. Where is she? Where is she? Where is she, she's not here, no one's here to save you, you were never saved-

“My Lady,” the same person calls out again. 

Where is she? Why can't you find her? The steps of heels click against the wooden floor and near you, and you know that they're coming. Yet, you can't find your resolve to do anything in your state of paralysis, and once again you're now in the cell where you were beaten, broken, and bloodied, and they've come to do the very same things to you once again and you can't even lift a finger to do anything, not even to scream. Your voice is gone and you have no way to escape as they round the bed, trapping you, encasing you. The silk covers feel like shackles, heavy despite the thinness, your limbs are entangled and they reach their hand out to hurt you once again-

“My Lady,” the sweet voice repeats, and this time it's closer, much closer. It's the third time she calls out to you and you only want to hide in the security she provides. “It's me. I'm here.”

The figure that stands by your side does nothing. It doesn't move, but you try to anticipate its next movements. Why aren't they hurting you again? Why haven't they done anything yet? 

“It’s Arlecchino. Say it.” 

That's right, the voice is Arlecchino. Summon her, summon her, only she can protect you, only she can keep you safe, you need her. You open your lips to speak and you're able to dislodge the obstruction in your throat as you whisper the softest of calls. 

“Arlecchino,” you rasp out, voice strained and hardly audible, but it's not enough. You extend out your hand, seeking hers. More choked and fragile pleas escape your lips. “Arlecchino. Arlecchino. Arlecchino, Arl-"

A hand, cold to the touch, and black as the abyss reaches out, clasping with your outstretched one, intertwining your fingers. Despite the chilling contact, it warms you and soothes your beating heart, each labored breath lessening. A physical reminder that she's here with you now. Your eyes traverse over the ebony skin, from the red fingertip nails, which trace your skin tenderly; to the palmar, with its distinct markings and lines; to the wrist, covered by the carmine ruffled ends of her sleeves; from her sleeves to the entirety of her, until you recognize the figure standing by your bedside is her, your demon. 

She's here, you recognize. 

It's ironic, how a demon is able to quell your fears, dissipating them as easily as she does with your enemies. This being of hell, this monster of terror, this inhumane being, surpassing capabilities far beyond human, consoles–how much blood has she spilled with this very hand that you hold? Are you that decrepit, deprived of human connection that you find quiet solace in this creature’s hold?

You're hardly surprised. 

Her touch lingers as your breathing finally evens out, slowing to that of its typical pace. During that time, she says nothing, only the steady flow of oxygen in and out of you filling the room, and it seems like hours before she breaks the silence. 

“Would you like some chamomile tea?” She asks, raising a hand to brush a strand aside from your face. You finally notice the cup of tea she's placed on the nightstand. With a shake of your head, you scooch forward in the bed, giving you ample space to finally lay back down, your hand still grasping onto hers when you turn on your side, back facing her. 

“Arlecchino.” You whisper out breathlessly, but somehow, she's still able to hear. 

“Yes, my Lady?” 

There's a brief pause, before you answer, “You'll do anything I say, right?” 

“As per our contract, yes.” 

Another moment of silence, this one longer than the last. “Turn off the lights.” 

She does. The room returns to darkness but you're not nearly as disturbed by this anymore. 

“Do demons sleep?” You inquire. 

“Though our bodies don't necessitate it, we can slumber.” 

Again, the state of wordlessness falls between the two of you. Arlecchino nearly pulls away, but your grip on her fingers tighten. 

“Stay.” Then you add quickly, “That's an order.”

Arlecchino’s low chuckle echoes throughout your bedroom. There's the shuffling of fabric, some movements made by the butler but her hand remains in place with yours. Shortly after, she raises the covers and slips underneath. Her cold front presses against your back and her breath brushes against your nape.

“Will you stay the whole night?” 

“I'll stay as long as you want me to, my Lady.”