#okay now that the tw’s are out of the way

[ktgoodmorning]

Let me take care of you

Alexia x teen!reader

Angst with some comfort at the end. TW for car accident and kinda a rough family life but nothing too crazy. Based on that request I posted yesterday :)

Masterlist

“Has anyone seen Chiquita?” The captain wasn’t really directing the question at anyone in particular, just whoever was nearby and willing to listen. You were never late. The fact that you hadn’t arrived at the stadium yet was weird to Alexia. You were always early. Really early. Everyone knew you tended to be anxious about being late to things and constantly overcompensated by making yourself far earlier than anyone needed you to be. 

Cata seemed to be one of the only few that heard her question in the chaos of the locker room . “We still have twenty minutes before we’re even supposed to be here. I’m sure she’s on her way, half the team isn’t here yet, there’s plenty of time.” 

“Yeah but we all know how weird that is for her, she’s always really early, maybe I should call her?” 

“Ale,” Mapi laid her hand on the blonde's shoulder in an attempt to calm her nerves. “I’m sure she’s just running a little late. She’ll probably walk in any second now.” The unsurety was clear on Alexia’s face, not quite believing her best friend’s words. “Give it a few more minutes and if she’s still not here, then give her a call.” Alexia nodded, still full of tension but doing her best to remain calm. 

She knew that logically everyone was right. It was still early. She had no reason to be worried about you. Most of the other younger girls weren’t here yet either, why wasn’t she worried about them? But not only was it unusual for you to not be unhealthily early to everything, it was even more unusual that you hadn’t texted her. You always let your captain know if you were running late, even if it still put you at your destination thirty minutes early, you were constantly worried about being late. 

The usually calm and collected captain, had her foot bouncing rapidly as she sat in front of her locker, subconsciously biting at her nails and getting herself worked up over you. She couldn’t help but let her thoughts wander to the absolute worst possible reasons you wouldn’t be here yet.

 “Hey, Ale, I’m sure she’s fine. But why don’t you give her a call, just to calm your nerves?” Mapi knew the woman well enough to know that no matter what she said, her words would mean nothing to Alexia when she was already this worked up. 

The blonde responded with a quick nod while she frantically pulled up your contact. She had already had her phone in hand, checking constantly to see if you texted her, so it didn’t take long to get her phone ringing. All it did was ring. It felt like a lifetime had passed before she heard the sound of your voicemail. 

The sound immediately made her panic, even more than she already had been. It didn’t help when she saw the same look of panic cross Mapi’s eyes as well. 

“Guys, she probably just isn’t answering because she’s driving. She’s still not even late yet, don’t worry.” 

“No, Cata! (y/n) always answers if she’s driving! Her phone is connected to her car so she can’t miss it.” Alexia was practically yelling, not out of anger, just because of how worried she was. 

“And we know she always gets bored when she’s driving! She loves having someone on the phone!” The fact that Mapi was taking this just as seriously as Alexia was a red flag to everyone. Clearly if the two of them were both this worked up, they had a good reason to be.

All your teammates could do to make sure you were okay was continue blowing up your phone with calls and texts, praying they’d get any kind of response. Even if it was just that your car had broken down somewhere or that you were sick in bed, at least they’d know something horrible hadn’t happened. The unknown was what killed them. They had no idea where you were or what was going on and there was nothing they could do about it. 

When the time came that you were officially late, Alexia came to the conclusion that something was officially wrong. There’s no way you would be late. Ever. 

She rushed to get herself game-ready so she could spend the rest of the time before the match tracking you down. Her ponytail was sloppier than she ever let it get on game day, but at the moment she didn’t care, you were the only thing on her mind. 

You were basically a younger sister to your captain. A mix between her younger sister and her child. She was protective over you, even more than she was the other younger players. You were only 18 and had bonded so closely when you joined the team, she couldn’t help but think of you that way. The two of you were extremely similar and she wanted nothing more than to protect you from the world. She didn’t want you to have to face the same criticism as she always did, even if it came from yourself at times. 

The captain decided that she needed to track down the coaching staff and let them know what was going on. Soon they’d be looking for you anyways when they realized you were gone, so she may as well let them know now in hopes they’d have some way of helping.

Mapi was following close behind her as they ran down the hallway to the offices, bursting through the door the second they reached the right one. 

Jona still looked shocked from the captain’s sudden entrance when she started shouting. “Has anyone heard from (y/n)?! She’s still not here and she won’t answer our calls and nobody’s heard from her, I think something’s wrong!” The man still seemed stunned at her lack of composure while he tried to process her words, but the silence aggravated her further. “Can I please drive to her apartment and see if she’s okay? I’m really worried about her, she wouldn’t just do this.” 

This only confused the coach, obviously shocked by her willingness to miss part of their game. “Alexia, you can’t just leave. You’re supposed to be taking the pitch to warm up in a few minutes.” 

“I know, but I’m-”

“No. No buts Alexia. You’re the captain and you have a job to do. I know you’re worried about her, but we’ll have someone else look into it for you. We’re already unexpectedly down a player with (y/n) apparently gone, we can’t lose another one, especially not you. You go get ready. I’ll look into it.” 

The two girls couldn’t decide if they were heartbroken or infuriated. Probably a bit of both. They were both worried sick about you and Jona’s answer only frustrated them more. How were they supposed to play a game when they had no idea where you were or if you were even okay?

...

The game started rough, to say the least. Not for the team as a whole, thankfully. The team itself was doing just fine. But Alexia… Alexia was doing poorly. To anyone else, it looked like her brain wasn’t in her head. And to be fair, it wasn’t. It was on you. You were all she could think about, not even caring about the passes she missed and chances she didn’t take. She was trying so hard to get her head in a better spot, to convince herself that she was overreacting but she just couldn’t do it. The other girls seemed to be able to set it aside and focus on the game, holding onto their trust that whoever was tracking you down would do their job, but not Alexia. 

The second the whistle blew to signify half time, the captain found herself jogging straight to Jona to see if he had an update on you, but he spoke before she could even open her mouth. 

“Alexia we’re subbing you off, it’s clear your head’s not in the game, you’re like dead weight out there.” It was clear he wasn’t happy with her but for once in her life, she couldn’t be bothered about football right now. 

“That’s fine, did you get a hold of (y/n)? Is she okay?” 

“No not yet. She didn’t answer so we tried her emergency contact but-”

“Idiotas! I’m her emergency contact!” Alexia didn’t even bother hearing the coach’s response before she took off running to the locker room, praying she’d have a missed call or text from you. At this point, if she was already being subbed off, then she had no hesitation in going to your apartment to find her yourself if she had to, she just needed to know you were okay. 

When she got to her phone, she couldn’t decide if the five missed calls from you made her more relieved or more worried. On the one hand, at least you were alive. But on the other hand, you knew she’d be at the game so the fact that you called her at all was weird. She pressed your contact as she fumbled for her bag, grabbing whatever she could before running down the corridor towards her car. Nobody needed to question where she was going or what she was doing, everyone understood. 

As soon as she heard your voice on the other end of the line, the older woman let out a big breath and instantly froze in her tracks. “Dios mío, Chiquita, estás bien?” 

Under any other circumstances you would’ve made fun of her for how frantic she was being, but at the moment you didn’t even notice. What started as an attempt to keep your voice steady and avoid freaking her out further, only turned into a choked sob, which did exactly the opposite of what you hoped. 

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong? What happened? Where are you, I’m coming.” The sound of your crying sent her back into motion, rushing to get in her car and start driving in the direction of your apartment, hoping that was the right way. 

“I- I- I don’t know.” You shook your head rapidly, as if it would clear your mind. 

“Breathe for me, it’s okay. I’m coming. Are you at your apartment?”

“No. No, I don’t know.”

“Did something happen on your way to the stadium?” Alexia had this sinking feeling ever since she first noticed you were late, somehow already knowing what your answer would be.

“Yeah. Someone hit my car, I’m not far from my apartment. I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have distracted you from the game, but I just really needed you, Ale. I really need you here, I’m sorry, I’m sor-” Your own sobs cut you off, but it was maybe better than making her listen to the spiraling panic you were heading towards. 

“Hey, it’s okay I’m only a minute away, I’m almost there, just please try to take some deep breaths.” Alexia had become just as panicked as you were but she was doing everything in her power not to let you see that. She just needed to see you were okay. So she continued speeding, following the route he knew you would’ve taken, keeping her eyes peeling for any sign of you. 

It was only a second later when she noticed your car along the side of the road with the entire back bumper crumpled in. Alexia was flooded with emotions, relief that she had found you (or at least your car) but more panic now that she had seen what your car looked like. She slammed her foot on the brake to pull over behind your car and quickly spotted you, sitting on the curb in front of your car, knees pulled tight to your chest, sobbing. The sobbing wasn’t great but at least you were alive and relatively okay physically, it seemed like.

“Chiquita come here!” You hadn’t even noticed her pull up before he was engulfing you in her arms, pulling you in tightly against her chest, cradling your head while you cried. “You’re okay, I’ve got you. It’ll be alright, I’m here now, you’re okay” The longer you sat in her arms, your gasps for air became more and more sparse and her calming hands on you started to bring you back to your surroundings. Something about the way her hands drew light patterns over your skin always brought you back to earth, something she learned quickly when you started getting closer with each other. 

You didn’t have the best relationship with your parents so it wasn’t all that unusual for you to go to Alexia, upset with something they said to you, looking for some love. It was part of what made the two of you so close. She was the calming parental guidance in your life that you didn’t have otherwise. The whole team was really, but Alexia just filled that motherly role in a way nobody else could, not even your own mother. So this wasn’t the first time she had to calm you down in a situation like this, and unfortunately she knew it wouldn’t be the last. 

“Please talk to me, what happened Chiqui? Are you hurt?” her voice was soft and smooth and sounded like somehow it could solve all of your problems. It was impossible not to give in to her pleading. 

“Ale, I’m fine,” your voice was quiet, full of insecurity. “My car isn’t though and my parents are gonna kill me. I don’t know how I’m supposed to tell them.”

“Tell them what? What exactly happened?”

“I don’t know,  I was just on my way to the stadium and this car just came out of nowhere and hit me. I think they ran a red light or something, I don’t even know for sure…” you took a moment to look at your captain’s face, struggling to read her thoughts. She was trying to hide her worry from you, not letting you see how scared she was of the idea of losing you, even if she had you right here in her arms. “But I guess somebody called the police, and they came and dealt with all of it. They wanted to send me in an ambulance but I told them I was fine. And then I just didn’t know what to do so I freaked out and called you. And now here we are…” 

“You know it’s not your fault, right? If he ran a red light, there’s nothing you could’ve done to stop that. Your parents should understand that.”

You scoffed at her. Normally you would never scoff at her or risk disrespecting anything the older woman told you but it was safe to say you weren’t totally thinking straight. “Yeah they should understand that but it doesn’t mean they will. They should do a lot of things. They’re gonna kill me, Ale” 

Your voice was dripping in sarcasm but Alexia could hear the hurt coming through, especially as you trailed off at the end of your sentence. Something about your reaction felt more than just you being upset about your parents, she could tell there was something you were holding back from her still. “You’re not okay, chiqui, I can tell. Please just talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking, how you’re feeling.” She brushed your hair away from your face gently, just now taking a moment to take in your appearance. 

There were minor cuts scattered around your face, much more than she realized. Up until this point she had been so focused on calming you down that she hadn’t noticed anything else. Small shards of glass lined the road underneath your car, presumably from where your tail light and back window shattered. 

“I don’t know, Ale. I just don’t know how to tell my parent’s. They’re gonna freak out. What if they try to pull me from the team…” 

 “You’re eighteen now. They can’t do stuff like that anymore, remember. If they try to kick you out or anything, you can move in with me if you want, or I can help you find your own place. We’ll figure it out. But they can’t do any of that anymore, I promise.” She pulled away slightly, going to stand up, “Let’s get you back home so you can shower and get cleaned up, it looks like your hair is full of glass." The blonde just looked at you expectantly, assuming you'd move to follow her but was met with nothing in return.  

You tried your best to believe what she said about your parents but you just couldn’t shake the worries. You were so used to your parents exploding at you over every little thing, always threatening to pull you from the team. Even if it wasn’t possible now that you were older, you still couldn’t shake the feeling. The idea made you resort back to your usual safety net of trying to protect yourself. 

“It’s fine, I’m probably overreacting. I’m sorry for interrupting the game. I should probably let you get back to it. You can just drop me off at my building. Or I can walk too, it’s really not that far.” You started to push away from the older woman, away from the safety that she provided you. 

Alexia grabbed your arm gently to keep you from pushing her away, knowing exactly what you were doing, but the small action made you wince. The second you noticed the pain shoot through your wrist, you tried to hide the look on your face, but knew you failed when you saw Alexia’s eyes go wide and immediately drop her hold on you. “What is wrong?! Are you hurt?!” 

You used your hand that wasn’t currently throbbing to push her away further. At this point you’d reverted too far back into your own head to use any sort of logic. “Alexia! I’m fine! You don’t need to worry about me, I don’t need your help! Just go back to the stadium so you can still catch the end of the game.”

You should’ve known that Alexia wouldn’t be swayed by your outburst and that it only further convinced her that something else was wrong that you weren’t telling her. This wasn’t like you, at least not with her, and you both knew it. 

“(y/n), look at me!” Her voice was harsher than it had been before, but obviously her soft approach was no longer working. “I have every right to be worried about you, you’re basically family to me and I think you know that.” Your eyes dropped, suddenly ashamed of how you were treating the person who cared about you most. Somehow you had to ruin this too. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you’re not hurt,” as soon as your eyes lowered, so did her voice because she had been in your position more times than she could count and knew exactly how you were feeling. 

Your lack of response was all the confirmation she needed, but to be fair, you didn’t lie to her. You truly hadn’t noticed how badly your arm had been hurting until she had grabbed you. It must have been the adrenaline or the shock from the accident but you had no idea how bad it was until now. Now that you noticed it though, it was killing you. Every attempt to move your fingers sent pain radiating up your arm and throughout that entire side of your body. You’d been lucky with injuries so far, so this couldn’t compare to anything you had felt before.

 Your captain could see the way that tears started welling up in your eyes again and how you bit your lip to try to hold it all in. The look on your face only broke her heart further, wishing there was anything she could do to take away your hurt, both physical and emotional. “I don’t care if you don’t want my help, Chiquita, you’re getting it anyways. I hope you know by now how much you mean to me, so please, just let me take care of you.”

You nodded frantically at her, doing anything you could to prevent your tears from spilling out but knowing you’d fail the second you opened your mouth. You knew it was ridiculous that you were trying to stop yourself when she’d already had you sobbing in her arms just a few minutes earlier but something still made you hold back. At this point you were in so much pain though, you didn’t even care anymore, you just needed her help and you finally knew it.

Alexia engulfed you in a big hug once again, causing you to finally let it all out. It was like that was what broke the damn. You sobbed violently in your captain’s arms. The way you were acting now made your earlier crying look like it was nothing. It was the culmination of the shock from the accident, along with mixed feelings about your parents, your gratefulness for Alexia, exhaustion from the events of the season, and physical pain. So much pain. You couldn’t put any of your thoughts into words, other than crying and the occasional “Hurts, Ale.” You were a crying, whimpering, mess in her arms. 

The Catalonian quickly realized that the extent of your reaction was now mostly being caused by the newfound pain in your arm and that treating your pain would be the quickest way to help you calm down. Whatever your injury was, it had to be somewhat serious or else you wouldn’t be crying this hard, so she knew she had to get you to a doctor. 

When she started pulling away from you to stand up, you grabbed her shirt with your good hand, and yelled at her. “NO! Stay here, Ale! Please!” Heart wrenching was an understatement. 

“I’m just trying to help you, Chiqui, we need to get you to the hospital so they can help with your arm, you’re in a lot of pain.” Somehow you could process her words enough to know she was right, letting up your hold on her shirt so she could stand and pick you up to bring you to her car. She was as careful with your arm as she could possibly be but still every step she took left you sobbing into her chest even more. “I know it hurts, you’re doing so great. We’ll be there before you know it.” Alexia continued whispering to you as she got you both in the car and started driving. Your captain had done this enough to know that it wouldn’t do much but at the very least it might slightly distract you from the pain you were feeling. 

On your way to the hospital, she gave the club a quick call, knowing the game was over and wanting to give them the update that she was with you. She asked them to pass the message on to the rest of the team because she knew most of them were likely freaking out just as much as she was. You were the team baby, and everyone wanted to know you were alive and relatively okay. 

When she glanced over and saw you staring off into space, tears flowing freely, curled up on her front seat, holding your arm to your chest, she knew she needed to call your parents. If nothing else, they could help figure out how to get your car off the street. And as much as you were freaking out about telling them, she thought it might go over better coming from her. It was clear you were in your own little world, not paying her any attention when she cradled her phone between her ear and her shoulder to talk to them. 

As she filled them in on what happened, she knew that it was better that she was one bearing the brunt of their response instead of you. No matter how much she tried to assure them that it wasn’t your fault, they made plenty of comments about how you should have been more responsible or how she didn’t need to take you to the hospital because you were probably just overreacting. That one really killed her. How could they not believe you when she was sure they could hear you crying in the background? She had already been planning on having you stay with her that night but their reactions only sealed the deal. There was no way Alexia could send you back with them instead of coming home with her where she could take care of you and make sure you were safe.

...

By the time you really became aware of the situation again, you were sitting on a hospital bed in the emergency room. Alexia was next to you, holding your good hand in hers and you were suddenly feeling significantly better. “Chiquita! How are you feeling?” Alexia had immediately taken notice of the tiniest movements you made as you woke up and adjusted to your surroundings. You groaned when you realized how stiff you were feeling. Apparently getting hit by a car can do that to you. “Better than I did before, I guess. What’d the doctors say?”

She flashed a smile at you, one that told you you’d be okay. “Well they gave you some pain meds pretty quick, that’s why you’re feeling better. You broke one of the bones in your arm. They think it probably got caught on the steering wheel when you got hit. But it’s a clean break, no surgery or anything, just this cast for a while.” You followed her eyes down to your arm where you could see the cast poking out from the edges of the ice packs they had wrapped around it, trying to adjust it slightly so you could see what color they had used. 

“Ale, don’t tell me they let you pick the color?” 

Alexia let out a small laugh, her first one all day, at the way your usual personality was returning. “The pain meds knocked you out pretty good, they couldn’t trust you to pick one! You were hardly making sense, they had to ask me!” you looked at her suspiciously, knowing exactly what she would’ve picked.

“Don’t tell me you…” 

“I almost did, but no,” she giggled at how well you knew her. “I was going to tell them Barca colors but I decided I better give you your favorite instead.” The older woman rolled her eyes playfully at you. 

“Does that mean it’s-”

“Yes, it’s pink, chiquita.”

“Yay! Ale, thank you!!” you tried your best to pull her in for a hug which didn’t quite work from your spot on the hospital bed. When you decided to give up and settle back into your spot, you met her with a more serious look. “Thank you for everything, Ale. Really. Thank you for leaving the game to take care of me, I know I should’ve called my parents but I just…” 

“I know, I know. You don’t have to thank me. But will you please sleep at my place tonight? You need the rest and I just want to make sure you’re taken care of. I already talked to your parents for you. They’re dealing with your car, so that’s all taken care of. Just please, let me take care of you.”

Neither of you expected you to give in to her offer so easily but there was no way you could turn her down after everything she’d just done for you. Sometimes the idea of letting her take care of you was too much for you, but not right now. You finally had come to terms with how much you needed her and there wasn’t any way you’d mess that up now.

Any feedback and requests are always welcome!!

Masterlist

[vampqueen777]

Summary: After a stressful week, you and Chan decide on a relaxing movie night, which turns into something more.

Chan x virgin!Reader

TW: afab reader, oral and fingering (f receiving), implied creampie, loss of virginity, slight choking, rough sex, reader is shy

It’s been a long week. Work has been running you ragged. From deadlines to meetings to presentations, you’ve barely been able to take the time to care for yourself. Something that your boyfriend, Chan, wasn’t too fond of.

Luckily, you were off the rest of the weekend, and Chan decided it was a perfect time to pamper and spoil you. Tonight, the plan is simple, order in and watch a movie. You both decided to re-watch the Deadpool movies since the new one will be out soon.

Since you cuddled up with Chan for your movie date night, he has been running his hand back and forth on the skin of your lower back, below your shirt. It makes it so hard to focus on the movie, and you find yourself fidgeting to get some friction where you needed it most.

You were a virgin and nervous as all hell. You’ve been in this position with Chan before, but you haven’t gone any further. You want to, but your nerves keep getting the best of you. What if you mess up? What if you don’t make him cum? How do you even bring it up?

Your brain is all over the place. The movie has pretty much become background noise for your thoughts.

By now, the food has been devoured, and the two of you are halfway through the second Deadpool movie. Chan can tell you aren’t fully paying attention to the movie, most likely still thinking about work. Little did he know that work was the last thing on your mind at the moment.

Chan really just wanted you to have a relaxing weekend after the week you’ve had. Luckily, he knows a few more ways to get you to relax.

He began letting his hands wander a bit more. Kneading and massaging your thigh, trying to get you to relax, but when he feels you tense even more, he begins to think he's made you uncomfortable.

“Baby? Are you okay? Am I making you uncomfortable?”

You can’t find it in you to answer, so you give a quick shake of your head. This causes Chan to raise his eyebrow, looking at you questioningly. He reaches for the remote and pauses the movie, sitting up to look at you properly.

“What’s going on? And don’t say nothing.” Chan pushes.

At that point, your cheeks are burning with embarrassment at getting caught in your dirty thoughts. You find yourself burying your face in his chest in an attempt to hide. This only worries Chan more. You're aren’t the type to hide things from him, so when you hesitate to tell him what was wrong, his mind thought of the worst-case scenario.

“Baby? You’re scaring me. Please tell me what’s wrong. Did I do something? If so I’m sorry, and I can fix it. I just need-” Chan rabbled. Hearing the worry and panic in his voice has you snapping your eyes to meet his, and you’re quick to reassure him.

"No! No, baby. It’s not you. I promise. You haven’t done anything wrong, and you have nothing to apologize for.” You say, quickly. Chan lets out the breath that he didn’t even know he was holding. Just relieved that he hadn’t upset you.

“Whew, good. But is there still something on your mind, right?” Chan asks.

Damn. You’ve been caught. Quickly, you try to think of a way out of this without embarrassing yourself. Chan, being as observant as always, notices this.

“Babygirl, you know you can tell me anything. If something is going on, I deserve to know so we can work through it.” Chan says softly. You know he’s right, but you still have no idea how to bring up the topic of sex. In that moment, your brain decided that the best way to tell Chan what had been plaguing your mind was to just blurt it out.

“I think I'm ready to have sex with you.” The words coming out so fast that you weren’t sure Chan even heard you. But he did. And he froze. Did he hear you right? Were you sure? What if he hurt you? His mind was racing just like yours moments ago.

You take Chan’s silence as apprehension and try to mend the awkward moment. “I-I mean, we don’t have to if you don’t want to. I shouldn’t have brought it up. I’m sorry if I made-” Your words have Chan snapping out of his daze, and he is quick to stop your rambling.

“No, baby girl. Don’t apologize. I was just shocked, that's all. I mean, are you sure? I don't want you to feel pressured or like we have to rush into anything. I'm okay with waiting.” Chan reassures you.

“I’m sure. I’ve been thinking of it for a while now, I just didn’t know how to bring it up.” You inform him. Chan stares at you, trying to find any hint of apprehension, but he finds none. After a brief moment, Chan leans in to kiss you. You welcome it, opening your mouth to allow Chan’s tongue to snake in.

Before long, the kiss turns passionate, and clothes are strewn across the apartment as you both make your way into the bedroom.

Chan has you pinned to the bed, peppering kisses down your body before settling between your legs.

“Can I taste you, baby?” Chan asks, looking up at you. You shyly nod your head. Your nerves are high. You worried you don’t taste good or you’ll mess up.

Chan could read your worries easily. Taking your hands in his and interlocking your fingers, he silently reassures you. You take a deep breath and nod your head again, telling him you're ready.

That was all the confirmation Chan needed to start eating you out like a mad man. He couldn’t get enough. You were so sweet. So perfect and the noises you were making were nearly enough to make him cum immediately.

It felt so fucking good. You could feel your high quickly approaching, pleasure drowning out your nerves. Your finger snake their way into Chan’s hair, trying pulling him even closer but resulting in a deep groan coming from Chan. That was enough to throw you over the edge.

Once Chan is pleased with how he’s prepped you, he pulls away and removes his fingers. He watches your pussy clench around nothing over and over before he gently rolls you onto your stomach.

Chan settles behind you, resting on the back of your thighs. "Ready, baby?" He asks. You give him a shy nod. "Okay. Deep breaths. Relax." He says calming as he starts to push in, slowly.

The stretch is painful, and you struggle to stay calm and relaxed. When Chan feels you tense up, he stops. "Shhhh, you're okay. Just relax." He says, soothing you.

He gives you a moment. Once he feels you relax again, he starts pushing in again. You put all of your energy into focusing on your breathing and trying to stay relaxed, but as the burn intensifies, you find yourself tensing again. Chan is quick to notice and pauses again. "Easy baby. You can take it. You just have to go slow. We're halfway there." He says calmly as he massages the tense muscles in your back.

Soon, you find yourself totally relaxed again. It's like his praises have put you under some sort of spell. You barely even notice that he's pushing in again. It isn't long before Chan finds himself buried to the hilt in your heat. You're so tight and warm around him. All he can do is groan as he tries to remain still. You, on the other hand, are completely overwhelmed by the fullness you feel.

It takes you a while to adjust, but Chan, being the gentleman he is, waits patiently. He just continues to massage away all your tension while whispering soft praises.

"See, I told you you'd be able to take it." He says, peppering light kisses down your neck and shoulder.

You move slightly, trying to get more comfortable and find yourself whimpering at the pain.

"It hurts." You whine to Chan. "I know, baby. It's okay. It's normal for it to hurt a little your first time. You're okay, I've got you." Chan says as he continues to layer kisses over your skin, trying to soothe you as well as ground himself. It's all he could do to not pound into you like a mad man.

After a short while, the pain begins to fizzle out. "Okay, I think you can move." You tell Chan, once again relaxing your body.

Slowly, Chan pulls out, and you find yourself hissing into the pillow. Chan just shooshes you as he slowly pushes back in. He repeats the motion, leaning over to take one of your hands in his as his other hand rests on your waist.

Once he feels you relax more underneath him and he hears your whimpers morph into moans, Chan picks up his pace a little.Pleasure begins to spark like electricity all over your body, but there is still a tinge of pain.

"How does it feel, baby?" Chan groans out. He is doing absolutely everything he can to keep a slow, steady pace for you, but he's slipping.

"It still hurts a little, but it's starting to feel good." You tell him honestly through whimpers and moans you fail to hide. He hates how you try to stay quiet but knows you're shy, and it's your first time, so he will let it slide for now. Chan leans in close, trailing kisses up your neck and to the sweet spot behind your ears. He lets out a deep groan as he feels you clench around him.

"Want me to make it feel even better?" He whispers in your ear. You fail to stop the moan that spills out of you as you eagerly nod your head, leaving a cocky smirk on Chan's face.

"Lift your hips a little." He demands, and you're quick to comply. The hand that was resting on your waist snakes its way down between your thighs and plays with your wetness, gently strumming your clit, leaving you gasping.

That did it. That broke him. He couldn't hold back anymore. "Say red if you want me to stop, okay." Chan says, clenching his jaw. You quickly nod, letting out a faint yes. Chan tucks his knees closer to your body before he begins bucking wildly into you.

The room is filled with the rapid sound of Chan's body connecting with yours and your louds moans that can no longer be contained. Chan was right. This feels amazing. You don't even know why you were so nervous to do this anymore.

Chan chants praises and groans, and he pounds you into the mattress. He keeps a constant and steady rhythm on your clit. It isn't long before he feels you clamping down on him with a scream of his name. It takes everything in him not to cum on the spot. He wants more, he needs you to come again.

He quickly pulls out, making you hiss, before flipping you on your back. He's back inside you, pounding away, before you even have a chance to comprehend the position change. Your eyes roll back in pleasure as you hook your feet around Chan's waist, trying to pull him deeper.

Chan lets out a growl as he snakes his hand up to your throat, squeezing ever so slightly. Your eyes widen as they meet his, grabbing hold of his wrist. He's watching you so intently, looking for any sign of discomfort. Instead, he's met with a look of total bliss on your face as you clench so hard you nearly push him out.

You're quickly approaching another high and Chan has no intention of slowing down until you cum again. Chan is close too, trying desperately to hold off, to finish with you. He's a babbling mess of praises and groans. You're so close to the edge, just needing another push to send you over. You use your other hand to cover your mouth as you feel like you want to scream in please. This pissed Chan off. He ripped your hand away and held it above your head.

"Don't do that. Let me hear how good I’m making you feel." Chan grunts. You comply, and you're sure there will be a noise complaint in the morning.

"F- Fuck, baby. You feel so good. You're gonna make me cum! Please, please baby. Cum with me. Cum." Chan babbles. That's all you needed to hurtle into a mind-numbing orgasm, taking Chan with you.

For a few minutes, the room is filled with the sound of your combined panting as you both can down from your highs. Chan slumps forward, releasing your throat and wrists and supports his weight on his elbows.

"Are you okay, baby? Did I hurt you?" Chan asks, loving tucking some hair behind your ear. You look at him with a tired smile. "No, baby. That was perfect. Thank you." Chan giggles."My pleasure, baby. Let's get you cleaned up, then we can cuddle."

He slowly pulls out you, and you both wince with the overstimulation. Chan tells you to stay put as he gets off the bed and heads into the bathroom. You hear the water running and wonder what he's doing.

Closing your eyes for a moment, you try to calm your rapid heartbeat and slow your breathing. You suddenly feel something warm and wet touch your inner thigh, making you jump. You open your eyes to find Chan wiping up the mess you've both made between your thighs with a warm cloth. Still so sensitive and now growing sore, you whimper in discomfort. Chan soothes you. "I know, baby, look at this mess. You did so well for me." Soon, you're all cleaned up. Chan throws the cloth in the hamper before tucking you under the blanket and crawling in next to you.

"I love you, Channie." You say tiredly. Chan can't help but giggle at how cute you are.

"I love you too, baby. Always."

[ohlawdthebirds]

Ace In The Hole

Platonic!141 x Gn! and Asexual!Reader

Huge thank you to @groguspicklejar for letting me turn her drabble into a full fic. You can find the drabble here.

TW: Nothing huge, slight NSFW because sex is mentioned in this fic.

Synopsis: Price is fed up with how much Soap and Gaz sleep around. He's at his wits end until you come up with a solution.

And credit to @cafekitsune for these gorgeous dividers.

FREE PALESTINE FOREVER!!!!

Captain John Price was a lot of things: a respected member of the armed forces, a diligent leader, and an overall powerhouse of a man. He’d survived weeks of bootcamp, hailstorms of bullets, and targets on his life at every given turn. That all being said, he found himself wondering where he went wrong in life. When did he, captain of an elite task force, become mediator for his subordinates’ squabbles?

Soap and Gaz sat in front of him, petulant as toddlers, arguing over their latest paramour. The two of them shared a barracks room and were arguing over a “sleepover schedule” so that all of their “needs” were being met. From what Price had gathered, they currently had no set schedule, leaving them walking in on each other while with their barrack bunny of the week.

Not for the first time, John Price considered an early retirement.

“Ye cannae take the whole week, ye bampot!” Soap was indignant over Gaz’s proposed schedule, one that would give him Monday through Thursday, leaving Soap with Friday and Saturday. Sundays were off limits. Even God rested.

“Ah’m no lettin’ ye keep the lass to yerself. Isnae fair now innit?” He cried.

“Fair? You want the bird all to yourself, then? As I recall, you were balls deep in her most of last week. Nearly had to pry you out of her, you arse!” Gaz tossed back.

It was no secret that the two of them were sluts. Whores, even. John “Soap” MacTavish and Kyle “Gaz” Garrick had a penchant for sleeping around. They’d bedded no less than half their battalion, bedded a fair number of civilians during their leaves, and even bedded each other on a few occasions. Price would be lying if he said he wasn’t impressed. But with these conquests came the inevitable: arguing over shared partners and said partners sometimes fighting over who got to sleep with whom. It was ridiculous, really.

They continued on until Price decided he was actively losing brain cells. He slammed his hands on the desk and stood from his chair. Two of his best and brightest froze in their seats, eyes wide as they stared at him.

“Right then, is there any particular reason you lot felt the need to have this discussion in my office? Clearly you two don’t have enough to keep you busy. Seems I’ll have to change that.”

Soap and Gaz loudly protested, voices overlapping each other’s. Price was gearing up to distribute both a mountain of paperwork and multiple laps around the building when a knock came from his office door. He fixed Soap and Gaz with a piercing stare that silenced them, before calling out for whomever knocked to come in. You stepped in, brows furrowed over the yelling you heard earlier.

“Everything okay in here, sir?”

Price nodded gruffly. “These two were done anyways. Boys, you’re dismissed.”

Once Price declared something there was no pushing back on it. The man was immovable once he made up his mind.

The two sergeants decided it was best to cut their losses then and there and continue their argument back in the barracks. They greeted you on their way out, Gaz gently clapping you on the shoulder and Soap bumping fists with you. Price sat back behind his desk and retrieved a cigar from a drawer.

“I thought you were on leave today?” the captain said.

 “Still am,” you replied, “Just wanted to make sure nothing came up before I left out.”

Price shook his head. “You’re all good, kid. See you Monday.”

You grinned and nodded. You were about to move towards the door but paused, turning to face Price. “Captain, I know it’s none of my business, truly, but I overheard what Soap and Gaz were arguing about before I came in. I think I could potentially help you out here.”

Price’s brow furrowed. You continued, “You know how competitive those two get, right? Why not use that against them? Make a bet to see who can go the longest without sleeping with anyone.”

Price ran a hand over his moustache as he considered. It wasn’t a bad plan. It was certainly one that had potential.

“Could work, certainly. But you know they won’t just accept a bet without a good prize, right?”

A smirk crossed your lips. “Of course, Cap, that’s where this gets interesting.” You leaned forward, eyebrows raised. Price indulged you, leaning forward himself.

“I enter this little competition. A third person will ensure they won’t try cheating, since they’ll have to keep themselves accountable. The winner not only gets to decide on whatever weird schedule thing they’ve got going on, provided all partners consent of course, but they also get dibs on the good seat in the chopper on our next mission.”

Price sat back in his chair, mulling it over. “Knew there was a reason we recruited you. Ace, you might have just saved me a weekend’s worth of headaches. I’ll inform those two gits.”

You grinned. This would certainly be interesting, especially since no one knew you had quite the “ace” up your sleeve.

-

It wasn’t a secret that you were asexual, it just wasn’t something that came up often. You never officially came out to the 141, deeming it unnecessary. When asked whether you were dating, you’d brush off the questions by answering that you weren’t all that interested. When prompted further if anyone on base had caught your eye, you’d respond that you were too busy. These things were true in a sense; being a sniper for the 141 certainly kept you busy and even during your downtime you found yourself preoccupied with whatever hobby you’d decided to indulge in that week or hanging out with your teammates. You lived a full life and considered dating relatively low on your list of priorities. There was also something deeply hilarious about your callsign being “Ace”, though it was referencing just how skillful you were with a sniper rifle. Entering this contest wasn’t anything difficult for you. In fact, you thought it would be interesting to see how your teammates would rise to the challenge.

-

The first week after Price announced the challenge was probably the funniest week of your life. Soap and Gaz were indignant, which you expected, but they accepted the challenge, nonetheless. When Price revealed that you were also in the running, they made it a point to corner you at the shooting range. You were reloading your gun when they walked in. Soap was the first to approach you, striding forward with his arms crossed.

“So, Price told us yer the one who proposed this whole contest, aye? Fir wye?” he asked.

You placed the gun down and turned to fully face your teammates. “’Why?’” you repeated back, “Because the two of you were causing chaos on base and Price was ready to assign you cleaning duty for the rest of your careers. If anything, you should be thanking me.”

“Well, we’re letting you know that we’ve accepted the challenge. That heli seat is mine,” Gaz said. After his incident from last year, Gaz made it a point to sit as far away from the helicopter door as possible.

“That’s fine by me,” You turned and picked the gun back up, “Though, I’m sure this’ll be easy.”

Gaz cocked an eyebrow at you. “And what makes you say that?”

“Oh, nothing in particular. Just excited to see how this’ll go.” You cocked the gun and aimed it, firing off a round into the center of the target paper.

-

After finishing at the gun range, you headed towards the canteen to grab lunch. It wasn’t until you’d grabbed your food and began to look for your teammates that you heard laughter bubbling up around the canteen. You ignored it, moving towards the back table where Ghost currently occupied a seat. Ghost didn’t acknowledge you when you sat down, his eyes trained just past your shoulder. Your brows furrowed and you quickly followed his line of sight, turning back towards the door. The moment your eyes locked onto Soap and Gaz you nearly fell out of your chair in shock.

They were dressed as nuns, and from what you could tell, they were wearing legitimate nun habits instead of cheap costumes from Halloweens past. They strode forward, faces solemn and hands folded in prayer. Soap fiddled with a rosary his mother had given him on his first deployment. They approached your table, made the sign of the cross, and sat down. Ghost shot incredulous looks at the both of them.

“What’s all this, then? Halloween come early?” He asked.

“We’ve taken a vow of chastity, Lt. The ol’ Johnny and Kyle are no more. We’ve devoted ourselves to prayer and abstinence. We’re men o’ the cloth now,” Soap replied.

“Shoulda’ taken a vow of silence,” Ghost tossed out, digging his fork into whatever mystery meat the canteen had slapped on his tray.

You and Kyle didn’t bother holding back your chuckles.

“You do realize the nun habits are unnecessary, right? Price never said you had to wear them.” You said.

“Yes, but this shows that we’re serious about this challenge,” Kyle piped up.

You fixed him with a deadpan stare. “There’s absolutely nothing serious about your current get-up. But okay.”

The rest of lunch passed without much else happening, save for the occasional snort of laughter from other personnel.

-

The second week was just as nonsensical as the first. You knew the terrible two were up to no good when jangling and clanking noises came from them as they walked into Price’s office. The men sat, albeit quite stiffly, and tried their hardest to ignore Price’s hard glare.

“What’s all that ruckus?” Price growled out.

Soap had the nerve to look as though his captain were speaking in riddles. “Ah’ dunno what yer on about Cap, we’ve done nothin’ wrong. Right Gaz?”

Gaz at least had the decency to look embarrassed. You placed down the file you were examining. “What’s all that clanking you two have got going on?”

Soap wasted no time in standing up and yanking down his pants. You were met with the sight of a leather and metal thong with a padlock over the crotch. A chastity belt. The man was wearing an honest-to-God chastity belt.

The room was stunned into silence. Gaz hung his head in shame. It only took you a moment to realize he was wearing the same contraption. Ghost was the first to break the silence.

“Those come with keys?”

“Why Lt? You lookin’ to unlock me?” Soap smirked at Ghost, still a flirt despite the clear restrictions on him.

“I’m lookin’ to throw those keys out the window,” Ghost replied dryly. You caught Price trying to stifle his laughter behind his fist.

“Do those hurt?” you asked.

“Nah, but they do pinch a bit. Mostly awkward to walk around in,” Gaz said.

Price stood from his desk and passed over more files. “If you’re all well and done, Laswell’s got a few updates from last week. Give these a read.”

You had to admit, there was something comical about reading over confidential information while knowing two men in the room had actual chastity belts on. Price soon dismissed you all back to whatever tasks you had on base. You headed to the gym with Ghost right alongside you. Soap and Gaz clanked out the door and down the hall.

“How long d’you think they’ll keep this up?” You asked once you were in the gym, scooting yourself underneath the bench press. Ghost shrugged, adding more weights to the bar.

“Depends on how just how committed they are to this whole thing. Though I’m sure they’ll break soon,” he answered.

“What makes you say that?” Your hands reached up to the bar, readying yourself to lift the weights.

“Just a feeling. Adjust your grip, you’ll kill yourself otherwise.”

“No, seriously, what makes you say that?” You gripped the bar, raising up and lowering it to your chest before raising it back up again.

“On the field, those are some of the smartest men I know. On base? Barkin’ mad, the both of ‘em. Surprised they even lasted this long.”

You racked the weights above your head once your set was finished. “You’re probably right. But you have to admit, this has been a pretty entertaining two weeks.” You looked up at Ghost, who seemed to be deep in thought.

“Why’d you join this contest anyways?” He asked.

You sat up and turned to him. “Because I knew it’d be an easy win. I don’t exactly…ah, well, I figured it’d be fun to see how things played out.”

Ghost grunted in reply. “Fair enough. Now give me twenty more reps.”

You groaned as you made your way back under the bar.

-

As it turned out, Ghost was right. The third week was when things reached their breaking point. You were on the hunt for a missing knife, one you’d lent Gaz a few days back. Ghost’s words replayed in your mind; were the sergeants reaching their breaking point? Would they soon throw in the towel?

You approached Soap and Gaz’s barrack, fist raised to knock, when you heard a noise that froze your fist mid-air. There was the sound of rustling and grunting. You jumped back from the door.

There was no way…unless?

You stepped forward again, rapping your knuckles against the wood. All sounds behind the door stopped. You were about to knock again when the door swung open.

You came face to face with Gaz, his eyes blown wide and his chest heaving.

“Gaz? You alright? Why are you so flushed?”

Your eyes caught sight of a bruise on the column of his throat. In fact, there were multiple bruises. Before he could raise his shirt to cover them, you yanked down the collar.

“Hold it, what’s this? What’s this, Gazzy-boy?! You get attacked by over-enthusiastic mosquitoes?!”

Gaz swatted your hands away. “N-no, this is just-! I burned myself earlier!”

Ignoring his protests you shouldered past him into the room, where you were met with the sight of Soap trying to pull on clothes as fast as humanly possible. You paused in the middle of the room and inhaled deeply. The air stunk of sweat and lust. Soap, having wrangled himself into pants, tried to approach you.

“Listen Ace, this isnae wit ye think it is. We were just havin’ a chat, Gaz’n ah. ”

You turned to him with a grin stretching from cheek to cheek. “Oh really? Because I think you two were having more than just a chat. And I think I just won the bet. And this-” You whipped out your phone and snapped a picture of the two of them, clothes disheveled, and skin marked with hickeys, “Is enough to prove it!”

With that you turned on your heel and booked it out the door, flying down the corridor and across the building towards Price’s office. Gaz and Soap ran after you, yelling for you to stop. The door to Price’s office nearly flew off the hinges when you barged in, phone held out in front of you. Price leveled you with a glower.

“This better be good, sergeant, otherwise you’re runnin’ laps for the next hour.”

“Oh, this is better than good, Captain, this is great.” You upped your phone’s brightness and slapped it on his desk. Price leaned over, squinting at the screen. It took only a moment for him to register what he was staring at before his eyes widened. Soap and Gaz barreled into the room, out of breath and speaking over each other.

“Cap, isnae wot ye think-!”

“Ace is framing us! We weren’t-!”

Price's face darkened. He stood from his desk, your phone in his hand.

“You fools couldn’t last 3 weeks?”

The room went dead silent, and you swore the temperature dropped a little. For a moment you wondered if you made a fatal mistake.

Price stalked forward, nearly towering over the three of you.

“Ace, you’ve won the bet. But I’ve just realized that we only discussed the reward and not the punishment for this. Any ideas?” He turned to you and handed your phone over.

Gaz and Soap shot you pleading looks, silently begging for you to be merciful. And for a moment you wondered if you should make them suffer, make them writhe. But in a moment of mercy, you decided against it.

“You know, I’m impressed that these two were able to find those nun habits and chastity belts. And such high quality too! You think they can find maid costumes?”

Price’s face lit up with the sick delight. “Oh, I’m sure they’ll manage. And I’m sure they’ll wear ‘em for the next three weeks too.”

Soap and Gaz’s faces were masks of pure shock. It was at that moment that Ghost walked into the office, a cup of tea in one hand and a file in the other. He stared at the scene in front of him, turned, and walked back out.

-

You were wrong. The weeks during the bet weren’t the funniest of your life. It was truly the weeks after that took the cake.

As per your request, Gaz and Soap procured maid outfits, complete with fishnet stockings and kitten heels. They were met with raucous laughter everywhere they went. The only one with a modicum of shame was Gaz, and even then, you caught him strutting his stuff when he passed you in the halls. Soap was happy to be back to normal. He even claimed that the costume was a hit with his partners that liked role-playing.

You saddled up next to Ghost in the rec room one night, thanking him when he brought down your favorite tea from the shelf. The two of you prepared your drinks in companionable quiet. Ghost turned to you, spoon halting in his cup.

“I would say congrats on winnin’ that bet, but I figured you would.”

You huffed out a gentle laugh. “Thanks, Lt.”

Ghost paused for a moment, seeming almost sheepish.

“You, uh…you never finished what you were saying, back when we were in the gym. Said you ‘didn’t exactly' and then you trailed off.”

“Oh, I can’t believe you remembered that. Yeah, I just…um…basically I don’t experience dating and relationships the same way everyone else does.”

“What d’you mean by that?”

You stopped stirring your tea. A part of you wondered if Ghost would understand, if he’d be supportive. You knew the man well enough that he wouldn’t ridicule you, but not everyone was understanding. It often felt like being asexual was a fringe thing. You sucked in a deep breath. Regardless of anyone’s feelings, you were asexual. It was real and anyone who said otherwise could get a mouthful of your boots.

“I’m asexual. Don’t really experience sexual attraction, y’know? Like, when you see someone others deem “hot” or “attractive” or whatever and want to have sex with them? I don’t understand that, and that desire doesn’t really happen to me. It doesn’t mean I don’t have a libido, its just never directed towards any one particular person. It’s a whole spectrum.”

You ended your ramble with a sip of tea.

“Oh, so that’s what it’s called? Didn’t realize there was a name for it,” Ghost muttered. You stiffened, cup halted in midair.

“When’d you figure that out?” Ghost asked.

“Kinda knew I was different when I began faking crushes on people back in school. And anytime those “crushes” reciprocated, I was weirded out by it. I did have real crushes, but those came a bit later. I’ve dated before, and thankfully my partners were understanding. I even had sex once! Just to try it out. It was…y’know, it was fine but I’m still definitely asexual.” You trailed off with a nervous laugh. “Sorry for the ramble, but whenever people ask, I try to explain everything, so I don’t have to keep answering questions.”

“I appreciate the honesty,” Ghost said. He cleared his throat. He seemed stuck between wanting to ask more and wondering if he was asking too much. In the end, you looked over and said: “I have a few books on it if you ever want to read up more on the subject. They helped me out a lot.”

Ghost said nothing, only nodding. He gently clinked your cup with his before he turned and headed towards the door. He stopped at the door frame and looked back over his shoulder.

“Hey Ace?”

You sipped more of your tea.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

You smiled.

“Anytime, Ghost.”

[slvt4em1lyprenti2s]

Shy?

Masterlist

Criminal Minds Masterlist Emily Prentiss Masterlist

Summary: Professor!Emily x fem!student reader, what happens when profesor prentiss and the reader finally give into their feelings?

Word count: 1.5k

TW: Making out, I think that’s it?

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x female reader

A/N: Should I make this a series? Idk it might be fun!

Studying behavioural profiling is, well, different. It’s like science, criminology and psychology and smooshed into one subject. But the best thing about it, you ask? The teacher. Emily Prentiss is the most divine woman to ever step foot on this earth and no one can tell me otherwise. The way she strides along the front of the lecture all, her raven hair that falls in front of her face when she bends down to click something on her laptop, her eyes that always seem to find mine in a room full of students, her veiny hands that brush over mine when giving back a test. Ugh god, I swear I’m falling in love with this woman. 

It’s 7:45 am on a Wednesday and I’m walking across campus so I can get to lesson a little early to touch up my notes from my other class with Agent Morgan and to go over my- okay I’m bullshtting I just want to see Emily. And to be honest, I think I’m one of her more favourite students so I think she doesn’t mind me being early. 

I push open the door to the lecture hall and start walking down the steps, laptop bag slung over my shoulder that contained notebooks, pens, pencils etc, all the essentials. In my hand I held a travel coffee mug with my favourite hot chocolate in it because I wasn’t too partial to coffee. As I reach the front row I notice that Professor Prentiss has been following me with her eyes and watching the sway of my hips as I walked in. ”Morning Professor.” I try to say as if her eyes all over me weren’t causing a blush to creep up my neck. I took a quick check behind me finding out I was the only one in the room. 

“Hi, y/n. How are you today?” She asked her eyes staring into mine, genuinely curious.

”Good thank you, tired but good, what about you?” I smile as she chuckles lightly at my comment.

“Just about the same as you darling.” She replies with a smirk on her face seeing my face instantly bloom with red at the pet name. I shuffle my bag slightly before she says “I was out on a case for the last two or so days and I, only just, made it back in time to teach you guys. Lucky me hey? The only reason I’m even slightly okay with having to wake up at the ass crack of dawn is because of students like you. You actually listen and care, god knows that kind of work ethic is rare these days.” Emily looks exhausted and about ready to jump into bed at any second but the words that she said seem to cloud my head so I don’t pay much attention to her disheveled state. 

Students like me? What does that even mean? Well, she explained what it meant but I still wasn’t convinced. Nonetheless I responded “Yeah, it really is. All the people in this class want to be profilers or something along the lines of such and yet none of them take their education seriously. I want to throw something at them every time they talk over you. I might actually do it one day, it's so annoying!” She smiles fondly at my words making a cage of butterflies escape into my stomach and I smile back. 

“Now, I can’t have you throwing things at people, can I now sweetheart? That’ll get you kicked off the course. And I don’t think you want that, I certainly don’t want that, and besides don’t worry about the others. You’re doing amazing ah, that reminds me can you stay behind at the end? I just want to speak to you about your grade on our most recent exam. It’s nothing bad, I promise. You’ve done exceptionally well, in fact so well that I want to talk to you about further opportunities you have open to you.” She places her hand on my shoulder as we now stand face to face, she got up halfway through talking to lean on the front of her desk. I smile and subconsciously lean into her touch. The remains of the blush from the pet names yet again lingers but I say a small “Thank you Professor.” 

At that moment the door to the lecture hall swings open revealing another student in their own little world unaware of the building tension in the room. I give her one last smile and go make my way to a seat in the front row. I get out my laptop and notebook and start writing the dates and titles. I could feel eyes on me the whole time, I look up and lock eyes with Emily, finding her already looking at me. She sent me a wink and glanced back down at whatever she was working on. A crimson flush invaded my face and I returned my eyes to my page.

After the lesson I packed up slower than normal so that I’d be able to stay behind a little longer than she probably ment. I put my laptop in my bag and zip it up and grab my now empty hot chocolate. I walk up to Profesor Prentiss’ desk and find she’s already looking at me, again. 

“You know, you should stop staring at me so much. People might get the wrong idea.” I say, suddenly feeling confident, a teasing smirk on my lips. 

“What if I want them to get the wrong idea? What if I want them to think you’re mine?” I quickly shut up at that remark, all my confidence suddenly disappeared and I turned into putty. Heat rose to my cheeks and my head dipped to avoid her piercing gaze, it wasn’t mean, more admiration. But, any look from Emily Prentiss is intense. “Cat got your tongue honey?” She had a shit eating grin on her face as she saw me nod slowly. 

“Anyway, your grade! Okay you scared the highest in the class, and you got full marks. This isn’t anything new for you I'm sure, you’re a bright young woman. But, scoring this high in a test this hard, it opens doors for you. So, I’m here to offer you a chance to shadow me and the team for a week to see how we handle cases and what the job entails really. I also wanted to let you know that if you have any interest in joining the team I would accept you in a heartbeat. You’re a brilliant profiler.” Yet again for what feels like the millionth time today, heat rises to my cheeks. She stalks the way round her desk and stands in front of it. 

“That sounds amazing, oh my god, really?” A smile broke out on my face immediately. She looked pleased at my reaction and took a step closer. 

“Yeah of course really, why would I joke?” She laughed softly. I muttered a small ‘true’ and kept shamelessly checking her out as she still came closer to me and lowered her lips down to my ear and whispered, “Do I make you nervous darling? Is that why you get all shy whenever I’m around?” I nodded again while looking down, her hand found my chin and tilted it up. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.” I felt a strange tingling in my lower stomach as she said that. 

I looked her in the eye and she bought me closer. “Is this okay?” she muttered, her breath fanning across my face due to the proximity. 

“Yes.” I breathed out. That was all the confirmation she needed to softly press her lips to mine. She held me like I might break at any minute, so tentative and caring it made my heart flutter. My hands found their way around my waist and I pulled her closer. She moved us around so now I was the one against the desk as she deepened the kiss, her tongue moving into my mouth. I instantly let her take control of the kiss and press her hips against mine. A small whine left my lips and I lent into her arms which were on my hips. 

She pulled away and looked into my eyes before whispering, just to me even though there was no one else there, “I don’t want this to just be a fling, just to make that clear.” I smiled wide and pecked her lips once more. 

“Neither do I.” She pulled me in again and we kissed with smiles on both of our faces. We knew we would have to be a secret for a while obviously but it didn’t stop me from fantasising about what was to come.

[ofallthingsnasty]

Okay, okay - I have to elaborate on the whole ‘your fave discovers you spank yourself’ thoughts because I’ve been rotating them in my mind for the last few days. It’s just too perfect… So. Some little thoughts.

tw: spanking, dubious consent & bad dom/sub dynamics for Crocodile and Doflamingo (Buggy is okay though), gn reader characters: Buggy, Crocodile, Doflamingo word count: 1.2k

I feel like Buggy is the type to catch you in the act. Probably doesn’t even know what he’s looking at for a hot second - and then he simply gapes and promptly walks out of the room again, not believing his eyes. It’s not that it’s that scandalous or that he’s a prude (he very much isn’t, we all know that) - he just really didn’t expect to walk in on you doing that. Pretty much everything else would have been okay, maybe even met with a stupid, saucy comment. But you giving yourself a thorough spanking with his wooden hairbrush out of all things is just something that never crossed his mind, and it leaves the clown entirely speechless. You’re probably just as mortified as him - but the worst thing about it all is that he simply won’t talk about it with you for days. No, the moment you see your boyfriend afterwards, he turns as red as his nose, sputters and flees the other way.

It’s not really mature, it’s really, really silly - but it’s Buggy in a nutshell. At least him avoiding you quickly turns your embarrassment into irritation, which certainly is one way to deal with those feelings. You simply want to talk it out instead of playing cat and mouse as a grown-ass adults and even though you should probably feel ashamed a little bit (or should you? Is this really worse than knowing that Buggy has blown himself at least once?), you soon find yourself grabbing him by the scruff of his neck to finally address it. It’s then that he confesses - stammering, sweating, avoiding eye contact entirely - that he hasn’t been able to get the mental image of you punishing yourself out of his head, hell, that he’s been fucking his fists to it (but you didn’t hear that part, is that clear!?)- Well, that explains a lot of his odd behavior. Caught somewhere between relief, embarrassment and that familiar flicker of heat in your belly, it’s now your turn to stutter as you answer. Tell him you don’t even need some corny roleplay to go along with it (or do, he’ll be giddy with excitement either way) and he’ll happily but shakily provide. Tell him to go all out and use you as a stress relief and when he really, really needs it and he’ll do just that. Whatever it is you seek, you’ll get it from him - but don’t forget, Buggy isn't someone who only gives, he’s curious about taking, too. So humor him and treat him just as he does you and you’ll both be happy with this little discovery.

Crocodile is nothing if not attentive. Gray eyes notice the way you shift while you sit yourself down, rake over the hand that you put on your still-hot skin to soothe any remaining stings, and register that you’re wearing briefs instead of shorter options when all he’s ever known you in are more risque pieces. A sports injury, a strain, any other harmless bruise that could have you in pain for a little bit, his brain comes up with a dozen answers to the question as to why your ass is tender - that you’ve doled out a generous punishment on yourself the night before is nothing that crosses his mind. He’s more than willing to let it slide, to let you escape into the night with a sore ass and him none the wiser but when you refuse to let him dress you down fully - that’s when he gets suspicious. Crocodile doesn’t like it when others are in on something he isn’t, and it’s even worse when that ‘other’ is you, his most prized possession. So he’ll demand an answer - and when you sputter and fidget underneath his watchful gaze, he’s not above asking you to strip in that tone you know very well, the one that doesn’t leave any room for discussions; just like the two of you agreed on when you started this relationship. And once he spots the reason (or more like reasons, because there are multiple of them almost splattered across your ass) for your out of line behavior- he has his answer. The revelation certainly raises an eyebrow. Or two. But most importantly, it begs the question: why didn’t you just tell him, ask him to implement it into the already existing dynamic? The more he thinks about it, the more he comes to the conclusion that this has been nothing but an incredibly big case of misbehavior on your part. He’s almost disappointed in you, little old always-so-good-for-him you, who never as much as blinks without his permission. Maybe there are remnants of brattiness in that thick head of yours, he muses. Remnants he’ll have to carefully scrape out, it seems. No matter; he’ll have to punish you now, anyways - because you harmed what’s his without his permission and he’ll have to show you just how unpleasant a thorough spanking can be. Your measly little hairbrush might leave you sore - his belt will leave you bloody and crying.  

Doflamingo, however, is the one to spot the marks on you. That man has no sense for privacy or personal space - try as you might, he’ll barge in after you’ve taken a shower, straight up rips your underwear apart, gives you a wedgie just to get to the globes of your ass or grabs a full hand of your fat and laughs as you wince- There are a million ways for him to literally stick his nose where it doesn’t belong and they all end up with you beyond embarrassed and him laughing something awful at the revelation that his little favorite has a hang for masochism. My, why didn’t you tell him? He could have given you the beating of your life by now, if only he had known what desires you harbor. It’s cute to him, cute and hilarious and utterly tantalizing. The discovery makes his hands itch - the moment you fess up to your little ‘self made’ escapades, you’ll find the world spinning and you propped up rather uncomfortably right over his lap, his right hand already raised to deliver a just punishment. Doflamingo isn’t a man to ask for permission - you admitting that you like getting spanked is enough consent to him - and he isn’t afraid of rushing into things, either. You’ll get the most unorthodox, breathtaking punishment of your life right then and there, without any count, any broken rules or sobbing about anything you’ve done wrong. He just beats your ass as if it’s the most entertaining thing in the world, laughs like a maniac and all you can do is flail underneath him, never knowing when he’ll stop. If you were able to look at his face, you’d see nothing but unbridled joy, almost boyish amusement as he brings his palm down again and again, with varying degrees of intensity and strength. He loves surprises, loves entertainment more than anything - and you providing him with such a gift delights him, shows him just how perfect you are. You might be wailing and sobbing, begging him to stop, to give you a break - but he’s lost in those little sounds and jerks coming from you, in his imagination that is running wild with pictures of you spanking yourself while he didn't know all this time. How rotten you truly are, deep down to the core… He’ll make sure that your interior matches your exterior, don’t worry about it.

[jangofettjamz]

Stay with me

Jenna Ortega x Autistic!Male!Reader

TW: Depression, Self Harm, General Unhappiness

Summary: Jenna discovers your ongoing depression.

2nd Person POV

Three weeks.... three long weeks of loneliness. You had all but isolated yourself from the world, not to be seen by anyone. Your family and friends constantly worrying about you and your whereabouts. But you didn't care. You just didn't care anymore.

Your sleeping pattern was completely destroyed, eating habits fluctuating between eating too much or too little or just not eating at all. Hygiene was at an all time low, snack packets littered the house like a landfill.

You felt defeated, conquered. You couldn't even get out of bed to check the time. The only thing you could hope for is the mattress to swallow you whole removing you from the world; not that it'd make a difference. So you kept telling yourself.

You lay in your bed staring at the ceiling for what feels like hours, only to be disrupted by the ringing of your cell phone on your nightstand. You almost didn't lean over to see who it was but curiosity had its way with you and forced you to look. It was Jenna.

Embarrassment radiated through your body having not even thought about how your absence might effect her. Your reached out your arm to pick it up and hovered your thumb over the answer icon.

Mustering up the courage, you finally answer the phone and gave the best performance you could to ensure her that you were fine. "Hello"

"Y/N? Baby are you alright? No one's heard from you for weeks! I've been trying to call you and went to your door multiple times, babe." Regret. Thats what you felt the moment she expressed her worry for your well being. How could you be so selfish?

Still you persisted in trying to convince her "I'm fine, Jen. Really I am. I've just been really really busy at work; barely any time to myself" you fake laugh.

Jenna saw right through your facade "Really..? Because I called your boss and they said you haven't turned up for work in about a week and a half and I haven't seen you for three. Honey you know I'm the first one to call if you ever need help, so why won't you let me in?"

She was pleading, something you had a very emotional reaction to. The last thing you ever wanted to hear from her was pleading. "Jen... its... *sniffles* "

Jenna doesn't back down "Y/N... please... Tell me what's wrong"

"I... I can't get out of bed... my bed is a mess and so is my room. I feel sick to my stomach and I..." you held back tears.

"Go on, sweet boy it's okay. Tell me what's going on" She says with pure softness in her voice. No hint of contempt.

"I hurt myself. I've been hurting myself, Jenna" There it was, an admission. With your pride broken and tears down your face you confessed to your girlfriend about your dangerous little habit.

"I'm coming over. I'll be there in 5 minutes tops." You can already here her bustling around her house looking for her car keys. You were sobbing from the guilt. "Hey Hey l sweet boy it's okay. I'm not mad I promise. We're gonna get you cleaned up and figure this out together, okay?"

"O-okay.... I love you, Jennie..." you sniffle as you call her your little affectionate nickname.

"I love you too, sweet bunny. I'll be there very soon." She blew a kiss through the phone before hanging up.

*Five minutes later*

Jenna opened the front door via the spare key, her eyes taking in the mess of the living room. She couldn't focus on that right now, instead she made her way up to your bedroom and knocked the door.

"Y/N? Bunny are you in there?" She called out to you but you refused ti answer, hoping that she would leave and not see you in your pathetic state. "Babydoll I'm gonna come in now, okay?"

The sound of the door opening made you hide under the covers from the fear of judgment; her judgement. However, that never came. The footsteps drew closer and closer and you felt a hand remove the sheet you were hiding under.

The state she saw you in broke her sweet heart, wanting nothing more than to just pick you up in her arms and shield you from everything despite the height difference. "Oh sweet boy... hey... it's only me"

That did it. The dam of tears collapsed on itself and you bawled like a child leaving Jenna to pick up the pieces. "Shhh, sh, sh, sh it's okay baby. You're safe I promise. It's only me in here, no one else." Her hands went through your greasy hair, evidence of your lack of hygiene the last few days."

"I-I'm sorry for n-not calling you J-Jenna..." you wanted to give her a thousand apologies and you didn't even know why.

Jenna shut down your apologies immediately "its okay bunny you did absolutely nothing wrong. You're just going through a very hard time right now." Even in the dimly lit room she could see the marks on your forearm, but didn't draw any attention to it; nit yet anyway.

"My love why don't you have a shower, hmm? Or bath up to you. While you do that I'll clean up your room and check up on you afterwards. You have any clean bedsheets for me, angel?" She asked sweetly.

"In the basket downstairs with all the other clean washing" you answered lowly.

She gave you a loving kiss to your forehead "Thank you. But before you take a bath, can I clean your cuts? I'll be gentle I promise" you were hoping she'd just ignore the cuts, but they do need to be cleaned. You nodded your head with lingering shame.

She helped you to the bathroom, which was thankfully clean and sat you on the toilet seat. Jenna grabbed the first aid kit and got to work "Honey I need to clean the cut of dirt first before I disinfect it. Can you put your arms under the sink for me?" You did as you were told "That's my good boy there you go. Just hold your arms under for a few minutes"

It stung but you weren't expecting it to be painless. After the wound was clean of any dirt she started to disinfect "You're doing such a good job for me, bunny. So brave for me" she praised. You truly did not deserve this woman

"These dressings are waterproof so you can bathe with them, but try not to get it too wet, okay?" You nodded at her instructions and she proceeded to run the bath. While the water ran she rubbed your back and rocked you to keep you calm and not overstimulated.

"Alright baby it's bath time" She helped you into the bath with a gentle guidance. The temperature felt just right, something you were very grateful for. The last thing you wanted was to be overstimulated from how the water felt on your sensitive skin.

While you cleaned yourself, Jenna cleaned the bedroom from all the junk and replaced the bedsheets. She wanted to ask so many questions but she knew not to overwhelm you in your extremely vulnerable state.

Around 35 minutes after you got in the bath you finally decided you were clean enough. Your hair was clean and fresh and the body odre was gone. You grabbed a towel and went back to your room to find Jenna sitting on the now clean bed inside your now clean room.

She tapped the bed signalling you to sit down next to her. Once you did she instantly wrapped her arms around your fragile body in a protective hold refusing to let go. "Sweetheart what happened?" The inevitable question was finally asked, you couldn't really narrow it down to one event since it's been building up for a while.

"I... its been building up for a while. I started feeling unhappy for about a year and it just escalated from there. You know I've been going to therapy and stuff but it just kept getting worse and worse... I didn't think I'd start hurting myself... *sniffle* I feel so stupid" you started crying heavily again

"Shhhhh you're not stupid baby boy, not stupid at all. You're just going through so so much and you felt like you needed some form of release from all the stress regardless of what it was. But please don't feel like you can't let me in, I wanna help my precious baby whether be physically or mentally." She wiped your tears with the pad of her thumbs and held your very close.

"I know you had your reasons for doing this bubs and they're completely valid, but please let me help you. There's better ways than this I promise. I don't wanna lose you, bunny. You're too precious to me to lose, I love you so so much and I need you here with me. I need you to stay with me baby."

You weakly nodded at her words, you knew this wasn't going to be an easy road ahead but she was going to help you navigate it together. "I won't leave, Jenna. I promise."

"That's my perfect angel..." the two of you share a loving deep kiss, only sealing the love you two felt for one another. She pulled back and looked into your eyes. "So gorgeous. My perfect boy" the praise made you tear up again which made her hold you against her chest and lay down on the bed.

"You're gonna be okay, Y/N. I'm here now, everything's gonna be okay. Such a good boy for me, it's all gonna be okay." And you really believed her, despite everything you've went through you fully believed her words. Jenna cradled you in her arms in whispered sweet words, pulling you into a safe space where you felt nothing was wrong.

"How about we get some pizza and chill for the next few days. Its the weekend and I've missed you a bunch. Maybe we can even go somewhere tomorrow, whaddya say?"

"Okay. Dominoes?"

"Whatever you want, sweet boy. I'd do anything to make you happy" Those words brought a smile, a small smile but a smile nonetheless.

And that made Jenna very very happy

A/N: This hasn't been proofread so the spelling/grammar/punctuation might be shit. Sorry I've been M.I.A but I've been really down lately and that's putting it lightly. I haven't forgotten about you guys and I hope this fic can make it to you.

[nanaminokanojo]

ACCIDENTALLY IN LOVE | part 19

-meet cute? a cheesy musical number? forget it! love makes itself known to you through a minor car accident, a broken arm, and a treacherously charming temporary chauffeur

CHARACTERS: sukuna x you/reader | jjk characters

GENRE: full-length smau + prose | bad boy x good girl | college au | a lot of firsts | aged-up characters | strangers to lovers | smut | fluff | angst | ooc depictions - soft sukuna ftw

TW/CW: strong/mature language | adult content so mdni on some parts | mentions of alcohol and/or smoking | mentions of injury, promiscuity and bullying | pet names because they're cute with 2D men | toxic behavior | will add more if something arises

MASTERLIST | CHAPTER INDEX

<<prev part 19 next>>

A/N: Contains prose with panels in between paragraphs.

Sukuna stayed rooted on the spot. The room went silent as all eyes shifted from Uraume to you, their look of concern morphing to that of horrified looks when they finally turned their line of vision to the pink-haired male. However, his attention was on you and the apologetic look you had as you regarded him.

“Ryomen told me how you kept telling everyone about that for his sake,” Uraume began, “You don’t have to do that here, Y/N. It’s not like we’ll like him any less or otherwise, so it’s okay.”

“Still…” Suguru glared at Sukuna. “The fuck were you thinking, man?”

You started waving your hands in front of you, your ears and cheeks feeling hot from embarrassment. “I-it was an accident. Please don’t fight.”

"We're not," Sukuna assured you, arching a brow at Suguru who had a protective arm in front of you.

Satoru, who had been silently listening to the conversation, also chimed in. “Bet he had a girl with him when that happened.”

Everyone burst out laughing and Sukuna could just roll his eyes as he carelessly bumped against everyone on purpose until he was seated next to you on the couch, swatting Suguru away. He heard your apology the moment he was close enough. “It’s fine, Y/N. It’s the truth after all. I don't have to hide anything from them now.” He handed you the strawberry milk. “I didn’t think you should be taking alcohol with your constant intake of painkillers.”

“I didn’t think that was a good idea either,” you agreed thoughtfully but you still looked at him anxiously. “Thank you.”

“So, how come you’re not chasing him to hell?” Nobara asked you. “Is there some bizarre love story we don’t know about here?”

“L-love story?” If you were blushing earlier, your face was beet red from your neck to your scalp as you shook your head, but you still smiled graciously, not missing a beat when you said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“That’s very convincing, Y/N.”

You just bit your lower lip.

“Hey, stop it!” Sukuna growled, causing everyone to shut up, but he didn’t miss the way you flinched, too. It was endearing, but he felt annoyed with himself at the same time. “Sorry.”

Your familiar mega-watt smile immediately made itself evident and he couldn’t help but return the gesture. As per usual, everyone liked you, watching as how you take every snack the boys were offering, engaging the other girls in the room in friendly conversation, being fast friends with them. Your attention may not have been solely on him like all those times he accompanied you to functions, but he still felt happy watching you interact with people he trusted. As always, you attracted them, and this time, he hoped you will be real friends with them, too.

TAG LIST: @catobsessedlady @kyo-kyo1 @junehasnotbeenfound @lavender-hvze @guacam011y @eyered @hellomeow12 @its-princessmara @light-yagami-l @domainofmarie @mythoscalliope @noble-17 @pheonix-eclipses @weebbuscuit @sukunasbudussy @lu-c1na @vinnieswife @the-haitani-baton @iaminyourfloors @needtoloveoutloud @r-ryuko09 @somestardeww @swirlingcurses @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @bronze-metal @iluv-ace

© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI’S “JUJUTSU KAISEN”. [20240520]

PHOTOS/IMAGES/GIF/FANART/ANY MEDIA CREDITS GO TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

[ahegato]

[NSFW] Obey Me - fem!MC first time with Asmodeus

m.list

TW: nsfw, first time sex, loss of virginity, swearing Characters: assmodeus Writer: ahegato

Context:  The MC would probably be pretty nervous since it’s the first time and stuff like that. Idk I lost my virginity when I was like 17 and now I’m really old, so I barely remember it. I just recall worrying about the pain while also knowing it was common, that’s about it lol

You/your pronouns, so basically gender neutral, bUT MC will have female bits.

lucifer (cumming soon) | mammon | leviathan | satan | asmodeus (ur here) | beelzebub (cumming soon) | belphegor (cumming soon) | diavolo (cumming soon) | barbatos (cumming soon) | simeon (cumming soon) | solomon

ASMODEUS:

the wisest one of the bunch on the topic, to no one’s surprise

he’s the literal avatar of lust, and he’s probably taken a bunch of virginities before

assy boy knows what to do to make things easier for you

he doesn’t want things to feel forced or pressured, so he tries to keep it lighthearted by being sweet and goofy

makes sure you’re completely relaxed through the process

if he notices that you’re getting anxious, he’ll pause and snuggle with you for a bit

and if you feel bad for pausing, he’ll be right there and reassure you that it’s okay

if you were to change your mind about doing it today, he would have no issues with it

he’s not together with you for the sex, he’s with you because he genuinely loves you, and he’s determined to prove it to you

again, he may be the avatar of lust, but he’s also the avatar of intimacy, of any kind

if you want to please him, he’ll give you instructions and be encouraging, reassuring you that you don’t have to be good right away and that he appreciates you just trying

“Relax, sweetie.” Asmodeus whispers as he slowly inserts himself inside of you. He lets out a moan once he’s all the way in, and he reaches a hand down to stroke your cheek. He continues to coo loving words to you, reassuring you that the pain is gonna go away soon, and that it’s going to feel so good after that - and he’s right.

Just like he said, the pain begins to fade when you’ve adjusted to his size. Once you give him the go ahead, he moves out of you, leaving you feeling surprisingly empty, to then slowly go back in, earning a small moan from you.

“You feel so good...” he moans through a sigh, changing the angle of his thrust, hitting you at the sweetest spot. 

He’ll do whatever you say. Wanna go faster? Sure thing. Want it harder? Absolutely! He trusts that you’ll tell him if anything feels off, as he’s always made sure that you feel like you can be open to him, so he has no issues getting a little rougher if that’s what you want. Not to mention again, but he’s the avatar of lust. He can tell if you’re genuinely enjoying it or not, and he has no doubts that you definitely are. The way you’re pulling him towards you with your legs wrapped around his waist, and how you’re hugging his dick even tighter than before.

When he feels himself getting close he slows down, much to your disappointment, and he chuckles at the displeased look on your face.

“Come here, I would like to try something.” 

Once you agree, he’ll pull you closer before laying the both of you down on your sides, his legs in between yours. He enters you again, snakes his arms around your back, before beginning to roughly thrust into you, the new position getting him even deeper and driving you absolutely nuts.

He lets out a short moan every time he pushes into you, the sound of your skin slapping against each other driving him wild, and he’s instinctively hugging you tighter.

“I...I’m about to cum...” he whimpers, slowing down a little to give you time to react.

It’s completely up to you where he finishes, whether it be inside you or on you. Afterwards you’ll probably be rather tired, so he’ll help you get cleaned up, and then he’ll snuggle with you in bed until you both fall asleep.

✦ written 04/2024, posted 22/05/2024 ✦ ahegato ✦

[maccreadysbaby]

Project: Killcode

batfamily + oc insert

tw: anxiety attacks

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

…and bentley is already not having a good time, bless him

part two

❝ MAFIA FAMILY ❞

SATURDAY — JULY 14 — 8:48PM

GIRLS WERE SO WEIRD.

Especially these ones. Weirder than Steph, who was already pretty weird.

Bentley, Layla, and Vera had taken up residence in a little lavish sitting area in one of the ballroom’s corners — the two girls sharing a loveseat, and Bentley sitting nicely in his own velvet chair. He had said next to nothing, simply watching, listening, occasionally texting Asten but making sure not to stare at his phone for too long. (Asten seemed quite enamored with how quickly Bentley managed to find himself in the presence of females. Bentley wasn’t sure why.) Now, said females seemed to be playing a game where they narrated random people’s lives just by looking at them, but… ridiculously.

Bruce was still talking to the rude couple. Bentley wasn’t exactly sure why, but he was. And it seemed like intriguing conversation. They were all moving their hands, and changing their expressions, but it didn’t seem like they were arguing. (He still wanted to know what they were talking about.)

Dick had disappeared again. Bentley had only seen flashes of Timothy Drake here and there, talking and chatting and doing things. Damian hadn’t appeared yet, nor had anyone else. Only Asten and Jason had the real opportunity to skip, yet Bentley hadn’t seen a single Wayne besides Bruce, Dick, and flashes of Tim for the past… how long had he been in here? Twenty minutes?

“That guy’s dad is an Italian baker,” Vera said, pointing at a dark-haired guy that was passing with a plate piled full of whatever little fancy foods Alfred had made for the occasion. “He has to get a flavor profile of every food here so his dad can add it to his Wayne Gala inventory. They’ve been stalking the Wayne family cook for years trying to get recipes out of them, but there’s just something they have that no one else does.”

Bentley snickered at that one. She wasn’t wrong, actually, Alfred was one of a kind. Bentley wasn’t so sure about the food, though. It all looked kinda… strange. He liked… y’know. Spaghetti? Normal things? He was pretty sure Tim had said one of the things Alfred always put on the table was fish eggs. (And he did not want tiny baby fish swimming around in him.)

“Okay, okay,” Layla chuckled, brushing her blonde hair behind her ear and pointing through the crowd. “That one.”

She was pointing at Steph, who Bentley hadn’t seen once until then. She was wearing a lovely long, purple, sparkly dress, and her hair was ironed into fancy curls. She was talking to a guy in a suit that looked at least double her age.

(Why were galas just the perfect place to hang out with the opposite sex? Because, frankly, Bentley didn’t want to go over there, either. Interrupting would be way too awkward.)

“She’s a runaway model from France who just wants to see the world, not be enslaved to the runway! She snuck in to feel the American dream coursing through her veins,” Layla said dramatically, shrugging, tugging at the bottom of her white dress. “And she has amazing hair.”

Okay, Bentley really did chuckle that time. Steph was many things, but a runaway model wasn’t one of them. He was sure, though, that she would get a kick out of hearing that.

“You try one, then, pretty boy,” Vera piped up.

Bentley glanced over at her, blinking momentarily. She stared back at him with her borderline lifeless brown eyes. “What?”

“You try one, if you’re going to sit here and judge us for it,” She replied, flicking her hand out toward the crowd. “Go on, pick anyone.”

Bentley, with a huff, looked back out toward the crowd. There were people everywhere, moving and walking and talking. 

And then he saw Damian. 

Maybe he really hadn’t been here before, because Bentley was sure he would’ve seen him — he was dressed in solid black dress pants and a blazer, with a blood-red button up underneath it. He was fifteen, now (Bentley wasn’t very fond of the little gap between birthdays where Damian was two years older instead of one.) and it was showing. He was starting to look less like a kid and more like a man. Like… at least guy or dude status. And Bentley, at thirteen, still looked pretty much like a kid. Which wasn’t at all embarrassing. (At least he didn’t go to public school anymore to put it on display, he guessed.)

Bentley pointed over at Damian. All he had to do was make something up, right? What was the most interesting thing Asten had talked to him about lately?

I’m telling you, dude, the mafia is real and they’re everywhere.

Bentley settled for that. “He’s in the mafia.”

That seemed to work well enough. Layla made a loud pfft noise, and Vera rolled her eyes, muttering: unoriginal. 

”Isn’t that your brother?” Layla muttered, peering through the crowd to catch Damian as he moved.

“C’mon, you can do better than that. Everybody on the internet thinks the Wayne’s are a mafia family,” Vera teased, her eyes flicking as she watched people walk by. “Give us something cool.”

Bentley scoffed. “Okay, what would you say, then?”

Vera peered back across the room, seemingly at Damian. “He’s Robin.”

Bentley choked.

“Nah, Robin is way cuter than him,” Layla spoke up, watching Damian move across the room. Her eyes flicked to Bentley. “Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

Something shattered. 

Bentley jumped a mile and a half when the crash of a champagne glass sounded from right next to him. He whipped around quickly, and there was an older woman with shaky hands there, near his chair, looking awfully embarrassed.

Bentley looked at the broken glass. Broken, shattered, with little diamond designs scattered about the broken pieces. There was champagne pooling on the tile.

Glass with diamonds and alcohol on the floor. 

He saw his father.

No — he didn’t live there anymore. He turned back forward in the velvety chair and-

Didn’t he used to sit on chairs like these during his fathers meetings? In fact, his father’s house had been full of them. Tons of them. Fancy chairs just like these.

No. Stop. Bentley looked up at the girls in front of him, who were looking pitifully at the old woman, at the glass. Distract me, he begged, but no words came out of his mouth. He couldn’t just… he was… he was gala-ing! He had to be perfect!

His dress clothes started to feel a little less like new ones he got with Steph and a little more like the same ones his father forced him into.

No, he should be over this. He should be over it. His father was in prison, he lived in a good home, he was okay-

In a panic, the woman, trying to clean up the glass, cut her hand on it.

There was alcohol and bloody glass on the floor.

Bentley forced himself to sit upright, but- no, it didn’t work. He forced air in and out but that didn’t work, either. He tried to tell his body to stop it and shut up and get it together but it didn’t want to.

He’d watched Dick drop a plate in the kitchen not three weeks ago and he was fine. He’d seen blood and bruises after patrol and he was fine. He’d sparred with Damian and Dick and Jason and Tim and Bruce, and even with their hands flying at him, he was fine.

More likely to happen if you’re already nervous, the logical little Tim Drake that lived in Bentley’s head said.

There were people everywhere, people who looked rich, and they were talking and talking and talking about business and business and business and Bentley wasn’t having fun anymore.

Stop. He grabbed onto the wooden arms of the chair he was sitting in and squeezed them, hard. There were two girls sitting in front of him. Two girls that were probably weirded out and confused. 

He could hear his blood moving, and- crap. No. Not right now. 

You know we’ve all pretty much ended a gala before, right?

Bentley closed his eyes and focused on Dick’s voice. Remembering what they talked about. 

I broke a chandelier. Cracked a man’s ribs.

Crack! Went his father’s shoe against Bentley’s abdomen, and he was in the warehouse, being poisoned, and Dick was in front of him.

“Bentley?”

Crack! Now he was in a different warehouse, and Jason was dying.

But Jason was alive-!

Crack! Went his father’s glass against the wall. There was the smell of alcohol. The smell of blood.

Bentley was only coherent enough to fold over on himself in the chair, lacing his hands in his hair and resting his elbows on his knees. He could not. He could not have an attack right now. If he did, then he wouldn’t be able to control his powers, then all the water and liquid and blood in the room would move, then he could break stuff, then he could hurt someone, then he could kill people.

“Bentley, can you hear me? Your mind is a wreck!”

He couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe.

His dad was going to kill him.

His dad was going to kill him.

His dad was going to kill him.

His dad was going to kill him.

His dad was going to kill him.

His dad was going to kill him.

His dad was going to kill him.

His dad was going to kill him.

His dad was going to kill him.

His dad was going to kill him.

His dad was going to kill him.

His dad was going to kill him.

Someone touched his shoulder.

And it freaking sent him.

—

“-mon, Bentley. Hey. Hey, you with me, bud?”

He couldn’t breathe.

He was sitting somewhere very not the ballroom. It wasn’t loud enough. Or maybe it was. All he could hear was his blood — water? — he couldn’t hear anything else. It was too loud.

Someone was holding onto his wrists. Gently, keeping his hands away from his face. “Hey. Can you look at me?”

Bentley couldn’t really focus on anything besides his father. But he wasn’t with his father, right? He was with… everyone else. He was in the Manor.

“You’re in the Manor, chum. You’re not there anymore,”

Yeah, he was in the Manor. He was. He was. 

He was staring down at his own pants. He could hear his stupid wheezy breaths, but he couldn’t make them stop. He realized the reason someone was holding his wrists was because he was shaking near-violently.

His father was going to kill him.

“Bentley. Bud, look at me,”

His father was going to kill him.

“I’m right here, chum. I’ve got you,”

Someone’s hand raked through his hair, and he finally managed to bring his eyes up, locking on the icy gray ones that belonged to Bruce Wayne.

He smiled sympathetically. “There you are.”

Bruce Wayne. Sitting with Bentley in — where were they? It looked like a guest room on the other side of the Manor. Not in the ballroom. Bruce Wayne, crouched in front of Bentley, not in the ballroom. Bruce Wayne, not at his own gala.

In a mental whiplash, Bentley’s cluelessness was very suddenly changed to hyper-awareness. He could feel the water moving in the pipes, the realized that Bruce wasn’t at his own gala, that he’d probably had to have been carried out because he didn’t remember walking to the bedroom, that he couldn’t breathe, that this was happening again after seven full months without an attack, that there were a few more people in the room and they were all staring at him, that he could’ve hurt someone-

“Stay with me, pal,”

Bentley wheezed in and out a few pitifully fast breaths and curled his hands into fists, hoping that something would be in them, but nothing was.

Why was this happening again?

“He’s grabbing for something, B,” Came a voice Bentley knew. A voice Bentley knew he knew so well that he just couldn’t place it.

But the voice was helpful — Bruce moved Bentley’s hands so he was tugging at the bedsheets underneath him.

“I-I’m sorry,” Bentley choked on his own breathing. (At least he wasn’t crying, though, that would be even more embarrassing during a gala.) He squeezed the bedsheets and stared down at his pants, willing his lungs to work, for his body to stop shaking. “Go back.”

“Bentley-“

“Go back,” He repeated, moving his heavy irises up, back to Bruce’s face. “To the ballroom. I’m… okay.”

“Bud-“

Bentley shook his head. “Please.”

“The galas over, chum. Everyone went home,”

Bentley froze as much as a kid having an anxiety attack could freeze.

No. He didn’t.

“It’s alright, bud, just breathe. It’s going to be okay,” 

The bed dipped beside Bentley, but Bruce was still in front of him, and someone started rubbing up and down and up and down his back. 

He shook his head in an attempt to shove the water out of it, but it was really loud.

No, not water. Champagne.

Champagne screaming on the tile. Tons of it. In the ballroom, covering the floor, getting mopped up right now.

Champagne and blood on the floor.

No he didn’t.

“I didn’t mean to,” He whispered, nearly inaudibly. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to-“

“It’s alright, Bentley. It’s okay, just look at me. Just breathe. We don’t have to talk about it right now,”

“What did I do?” He muttered, bringing his heavy eyes up to meet Bruce’s again.

Bruce looked at the person beside Bentley, as if they would help him decide whether to tell him or not. That’s about when Bentley realized that that person was Dick, and that Asten was lingering near the door.

Bruce looked back at him, his smile wiped from his features. “Bentley-“

“Dad,” Bentley started, squeezing the bedsheets again. “What did I do?”

Bruce breathed in. Shared another look with Dick.

“You shattered all the champagne glasses,”

Bruce didn’t elaborate, but Bentley got it anyway.

He shattered all the glasses.

In everybody’s hands.

Bentley exhaled heavily, squeezing the sheets so hard his palms would be bleeding if the blankets weren’t in the way. His eyes flicked down to Bruce’s right hand.

It was haphazardly bandaged, and there was blood seeping through.

Bentley opened his mouth, but Bruce cut him off with an immediate: “Don’t apologize. It’s okay.”

Bentley blinked, forcing a little burn that was surfacing behind his eyes away. “How long? Was the attack?”

“About an hour and fifteen minutes,”

Bentley exhaled sharply. He’d never had one that long before. 

Maybe that’s why he felt like crap.

“I didn’t mean to,” He mumbled, releasing the bedsheets and bringing his arms up and around himself. “Someone broke a glass.”

“I know,” Bruce said sympathetically, running a hand over Bentley’s head. 

Well, at least he was breathing better now, somehow. The shaking had gone down a little, too.

He felt like he’d been hit with a truck. His head was all fuzzy and felt like it was full of stuffing, and it seemed to be taking three times the brain power to will up any thoughts or statements.

Instead, Bentley just leaned his head over on Dick’s shoulder, who hummed sympathetically.

“On a brighter note,” Asten said, moving forward from the door. He was way taller than Bentley now, standing at sixteen years old, and his blue hair was a darker blue than it used to be. (Jason had taken up dying it for him, and he was shockingly good at it.) He was wearing pajama pants and a hoodie. “Those girls left their numbers with Damian. For you.”

Asten held up two little torn strips of… was that a napkin? That had writing on each of them.

Bentley breathed in and out.

He guessed ruining your first gala was just one of the dozens of ways to become a Wayne. 

(He wondered if getting phone numbers off of random girls by having an anxiety attack and hurting people was another one.)

—

dedicated to @sassenashsworld ❤️

—

tag list! (If you want me to remove or add you, ask in comments!)

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @flyrobinflyy @skylathescholar @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun @xiaonothere @beatyoutothatusernameloser

[strawb3rrystar]

A yandere! ROTTMNT request

TW: panic attack, pessimistic views, mention of SH

I’ve been looking for a fic or just a small short story abt the reader being completely not okay. Like they’re panic attack prone, they think that there’s no way out of their situation so they’re just sad and quiet most of the time, and they have self destructive tendencies. It’s a bit morbid, and feel free to ignore, but I’m allergic to happiness, and I really like your writing, so even if uts just once sentence, I’d be happy.

Kill me on the train tracks.

Pairing: Your favorite turtle x GN! Reader

Warnings: Panic attacks, reader having clear mental problems, implied depression, reader eventually likes being a shut-in

Word count: 539

✰Masterlist

✰ Life seemed terrible now. You didn't know where you were or how you got here.

✰ What you did know was that you were heading to grab snacks from the connivance store before everything went black.

✰ When you awoke, you appeared to be in a remodeled train car. It had a bed, a couch, TV, and even a small bathroom.

✰ For a split second, you thought it looked cool. But then the realization set in and you started to have a panic attack.

✰ The smallness of the train car didn't help as you felt the walls closing in on you.

✰ You instinctively rushed for the door. But try with all your might to pry it open, it was locked.

✰ A million questions ran through your head as your heart pounded in your chest, threatening to leap out.

✰ How could you escape? Was there an escape? Who kidnapped you? And what did they plan on doing to you?

✰ Well, you weren't spent wondering that third question long, as the door to the train car slide open. There in the door frame stood a giant turtle.

✰ Seeing it freaked you out. So you screamed and backed yourself into a corner.

✰ The turtle spoke to you in a gentle tone as they reassured that they weren't going to hurt you.

✰ In fact, they insisted that they loved you. And that they had to do this to keep you safe.

✰ They told you this fact a lot. Eventually, you got used to your small living quarters.

✰ It was well kept by your captor and looked nice. Your situation could've been worse obviously.

✰ You were physically comfortable. Nice clothes and well fed.

✰ But you were a wreak mentally. The frequency of your panic attacks heightened. You often woke up screaming from nightmares.

✰ You felt far more depressed, unable to get out of bed most days. Your captor tried to keep you happy, but they didn't want you leaving the train car.

✰ So you got familiar with those four walls. It's not like you could escape anyways.

✰ When your captor tried to make small talk with you, you stayed quiet. It felt like any sense of language left your brain. Sometimes, you wouldn't even be able to understand them.

✰ You just let them hold you and cuddle most of the times. They would snuggle into you and fall asleep for a nap, while you stare blankly at the wall.

✰ When your captor wasn't around, you would hear them with their family. Laughter and loud conversations bouncing off of the sewer walls.

✰ It made you long for the outside. To just talk to a human again.

✰ Sure, you had plenty of opportunities to escape. Many times when your captor left the train door unlocked.

✰ But what was the point? Your life was just as shitty as it was before.

✰ At least now you didn't have to worry about the stress of a job. Or being unhoused. Or even the anxiety of a conversation. You could just exist in your own little bubble. And share it with a giant mutant turtle. But whose counting that?

Star's notes -> This is definitely one of the more morbid fics I've written recently. But that's okay, I like writing dark things sometimes!

(Thank you, sweet anon, for requesting!) (Requests are open!)

Taglist -> @raphaelsqueen @mamaemoemu @sleebykei @looking4userthatworks @toast-on-dandelioms

@alexandria-fandom @ghostdoodlen @roboticsuccubus83 @sweetadonisbutbetter @little-miss-chaoss

@sunr1s3-strab3rr1 @blood-heart22 @facelessfionna | Join the taglist

[nervousyoungtwinfantasydog]

i hate everything

[dailyloopdeloop]

DAY 17: tasty boiga

[8bit-mau5]

Update

Hey guys I didnt mean to disappear the way I did this month, but especially in the more recent weeks. I've been in an UNBEARABLE amount of pain with migraines almost every day for over a week and I may very well have a sinus infection (': Like I WAS diagnosed with chronic sinusitis last year iirc but this is unbearable. My throat hurts, my teeth hurt, my face hurts, I can't breathe out my nose. I feel miserable tbh.

Another reason for absence and being so slow on work is because I came really close to calling the cops on my mother in the middle of a fight not too long ago. I'm certain it would've gotten physical if Popo hadn't walked through the front door when he did. Thankfully things DIDN'T get physical, but I'm still very shaken up about it. I'm in no danger, but I'm getting around to making an official post for my [GoFundMe] that's been successfully published now. That was the last straw I just cannot handle how my cats and I are treated. It's seriously affected my workflow for far too long.

Anyway I could really use some positivity and distraction. I missed this place and I missed you guys, home life has just been.. a lot. And I'm exhausted.

[softceleste]

Christopher Briney and Suki Waterhouse in Dalíland (2022)

Please do not save, repost, or edit these gifs for any reason, use the reblog button instead. Also please do not interact if you’re a celeb rp blog or if you write taboo content on your blog, thank you!

[crybaby-bkg]

Dabi is surprisingly a lightweight. You honestly would’ve never figured by looking at him, but as you think back on it, you’ve never really seen him drink a lot. Not when there were celebratory parties, or when things didn’t go right for him. It’s why you’re so shocked when you convince two shots into his system, why he suddenly looks so loose, why his grin splits so wide.

He’s a clinger, you’ve also learned as you’ve started observing the blue eyed man where he shoves his face into the crook of your neck. His body bends over almost uncomfortably to fit into the position, and you can’t help but flinch a little when his damp breath blows a quiet little raspberry on your flesh.

omg wait my favorite thought is of you not even necessarily being a heavyweight, you can just handle your liquor a little better than anyone expects. you love to knock back drink after drink, convince Dabi into some stupid competition that he falls for because he’s such a little nerd and secretly wants to impress you. he does it thinking you’ll be the drunk one first, the one hanging off of his arm and hopefully his dick by the end of the night.

it belatedly shocks him when it’s the exact opposite. when he’s slurring a little and smiling at you, when you watch him through low eyes with a wide grin, when he wraps himself around you like a python, when you shake his face gently as you squish his cheeks together in hand. he’s just so utterly obsessed with you in these moments, and maybe it’s the liquor in him, but he knows his lowered inhibitions are only bringing forth the feelings he’s always suppressed.

drunk sex with Dabi where he’s the one too loose limbed and limp and weak. he flops onto bed like some rag doll with his arms and legs spread wide, but he musters up enough strength to release the heavy weight of his cock from its confinements. doesn’t do much besides lift his head from the pillows with a point to his crotch and a lazy grin, an announcement of, go ahead and hop on already before he’s flopping back down again, ready to lay back and get fucked like how he knows he deserves.

[willowisworking]

= CW/TW: BLOOD, DECAPITATION = OH YEAH uhhhhhh keep forgetting to post this but here's something I made for @straycalamities as a birthday gift!! (his birthday was several weeks ago and i made this several weeks ago and yes i am only posting this now) Gift art ls always a great excuse to try out new stuff, so I wanted to try making a mini comic :3