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thatesqcrush · 8 months ago

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Beautiful Sinner (Priest! Barba AU), Prologue & Ch. 1

Priest! Barba x f! reader | SVU au

Rating: NSFW for language, graphic smut, basic desecration of religious upbringing.

WC: 8.6K

AN: I am so going to hell. One way ticket for lil old me.

AN2: Big thanks to @beccabarba for reviewing and being my soundboard.

Prologue:

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It's been, It's been too long since my last confession.”

“Go ahead,” the voice behind the screen began. “Tell me your sins.”

You shivered at the tambor of the words spoken. And you know that your sins were also their sins.

“I'm not seeking penance for what I've done, Father. I'm asking forgiveness for what I'm about to do,” you clarified. Your voice was soft.

“That’s not how this works,” the familiar voice replied. “What exactly are you going to do?”

You let out a shaky breath and heat flushed your cheeks. You began to unbutton your blouse. “I think you already know, Father.”

— Ch. 1—

*six months earlier*

It was a blistering summer day in Manhattan, the sun beating down relentlessly, casting sharp shadows on towering skyscrapers. The pavement radiated intense heat, mirages shimmering above the asphalt street. The air was thick with a suffocating blend of exhaust fumes, unpicked garbage bags and urban heat. City dwellers sought refuge in shaded pockets, and the city seemed to pulsate with the collective desire for relief from the oppressive heat.

It also happened to be your first weekend in your new home-a nine-story walk up in Hudson Heights.

You received your pink slip and had to make the hard decision to move. Your aunt was subletting her apartment while she traveled across the Borneo rainforests. Transitioning to a more modest apartment was a challenging shift. You had to adapt to a different community vibe and recalibrate your lifestyle expectations. You had introverted tendencies but you tried to remain resilient, focusing on navigating this life change as a time to reset.

You opened the window and stuck your head out. Spanish music played outside loudly and the normally traffic filled street was closed, with people milling about. It was the annual block party for the neighborhood, with vendors and entertainment alike. The food smelled wonderful and your stomach growled in response. The sound of a knock on the door interrupted your thoughts. You ducked your head, making sure to avoid giving yourself a concussion. “Coming!” You called out as your bare feet padded the floor. You knew who it was - Maria, your next door neighbor who you met on move-in day. Maria was friendly with your aunt and you knew that she had promised your aunt that she’d keep an eye on you. She was close in age to you and immediately offered you a helping hand, helping you bring up boxes. You thanked her with pizza and beer and the two of you were on your way to becoming fast friends.

When Maria had texted you earlier in the week,” ‘Block party! Want to come with?’ it was an easy yes.

You opened the door and let Maria in. “Just need shoes and my bag. Help yourself if you want anything,” you called out, heading back towards your bedroom.

You heard your fridge open, the cacophonous sounds of beverages clanking together followed by the click and hiss of a can opening. Soon enough, you were both on your way.

–

Time flew and you found yourself really enjoying yourself. Eventually Maria had to leave - she was meeting her boyfriend and his sister to head into Queens to catch the Mets game.

You were still beyond hot, the humidity was thick, almost choking you. You pulled out a claw clip from your bag and pinned your hair up. Just even having the damp strands off the nape of your neck provided some, albeit, minimal relief. In that moment, you missed your pixie cut from years prior.

The local fire department had opened the fire hydrant and there was a gaggle of kids playing in the water. You looked at the water longingly before you internally said ‘fuck it,’ and ran through the open fire hydrant. The force of the water was stronger - and colder - than you had anticipated and you let out a shriek. You ran through it once more - this time not as close to the hydrant - enjoying the water washing over your overheated skin. Sufficiently cooled off, you continued on your way through the neighborhood.

There was a generalized area with a tent set up for community outreach. Curiosity piqued, you moseyed on over. You picked up a pamphlet - St. Blaise Church. You were religious as a child, it was as how your parents raised you. As an adult, you found yourself straying away, not agreeing with the church’s ideals which contradicted your more liberal beliefs. Sometimes, though, you found yourself missing it - especially during Christmas and Easter, when the congregation would meet up together in mass throngs. There was something about community that made you wistful.

“Interested in the Church?” a voice questioned. You looked up and you locked eyes with a handsome man. That was an understatement. He was obscenely good looking. Almost as if it hurt to look at him straight on. You felt a jolt straight to your core. No one should look as good as he did.

He took your breath away with his green eyes and thick, fitted build. His hair was dark with flecks of gray at the temples. His salt and pepper beard neatly framed his jawline. The man gave you a smile, his eyes crinkling. Crow's feet gracefully fanned out from the corners of his eyes, evidence of a life rich in laughter and stories. Dressed in comfortable yet stylish summer attire, he exuded a casual sophistication. He wore a fitted polo with fitted shorts that were borderline criminal. The polo was slightly unbuttoned, which allowed for a hint of chest hair along sun-kissed skin to peek through. Immediately your brain went to the gutter.

“Miss?”

You blinked. It was as if your brain broke and you had no idea as to how to respond. He raised a brow and inwardly you melted, feeling warmth bloom through you.

“Uh, sorry. The heat is just getting to me,” Nervous laughter accompanied your lame excuse.

“No worries, it happens to the best of us. I’m Rafael Barba.” He offered his hand and you took it. As you shook his hand, warmth bloomed through you.

He offered you a beer from a cooler and you happily accepted. And over beer, you find yourself enamored with every word from his lips. You suspected Rafael was involved with the church with how passionately he spoke about it. And when he invited you to attend the Adult Fellowship group after Sunday’s mass, you found yourself agreeing.

“...the fellowship hour following the Liturgy provides opportunities to develop friendships, meet parishioners or simply exchange information of mutual interest. There are monthly birthday celebrations and seasonal events, such as Christmas and Easter parties, as well as a spring picnic. We are always looking for more—”

Rafael’s cell rang and he apologized before excusing himself. You nodded and rocked on your heels, once again taking in the scene before you as you finished your beer.

This new neighborhood was already looking up.

—

As Rafael took the call, he couldn’t help but turn around to look at you once more. His eyes raked over your form, fully drinking you in. He swallowed hard, and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. He could feel a slight stirring in his pants, and furiously shook his head.

‘No,’ his brain argued. ‘No.’

He was not being turned on right now. Rafael tried to push the thought away and turned his attention back to the phone.

After the Householder case and resigning from the D.A.’s office, Rafael decided he needed to get away from it all. He spent the next three months holed up in his apartment, avoiding anyone and everyone.

Even if he didn’t want to - there was no one who would understand what he did. His mother was horrified and stopped talking to him. He received more than one gloating, sneering call from the recidivist he should have blocked — Alex Muños. Even Yelina spurned him.

He was truly alone.

So what was an acquitted, former ADA to do?

He prayed.

He had lapsed from religion. After working in the DA’s office and seeing all the especially heinous, depraved, evil out there - he was convinced there was no God.

He couldn’t explain why he did what he did - he did what he had to. Something called him to do it.

Was it God? Was it the Devil?

He wasn’t sure. So he prayed some more.

And then one night it came to him. The calling from God.

After a lengthy period of hemming and hawing, weighing the pros and cons, he contacted the local diocesan vocational director and began the requisite training. That training looked like pre-theology for 2 years followed by a tenure at a major seminary where he studied languages—some of which he already knew -Latin, Spanish, Greek. He also took graduate level studies in theology, including Doctrine, Canon Law, Church History, Scripture, and Liturgy.

He called St. Blaise’s home for three years. He found joy in community and spreading the Gospel. He gave to the community as much as he could possibly give. He thought it would be weird - that people would recognize him and call him a baby killer. And if they did - they never did it to his face. Rather, the community embraced him.

He was still busy as ever - mass was everyday, there were funerals, baptisms and weddings. He did outreach with the youth and began a fellowship for parishioners who were in a similar age cohort. Having saved quite a penny as an ADA, he lived off his savings. A priest’s salary was meager and he still had to pay taxes. So his salary sat in another account which went towards that.

The summer block party was an annual event, but very nubile - only in its third year. It’s where he felt he could give most back and the community could truly come together.

He hadn’t felt an attraction to any form of secular life in ages.

Until you just now.

He could use the excuse that he was a man after all. A man who used to be sexually active with both men and women alike. But before you, he was able to steer his thoughts away and put that energy into something else for the betterment of the church and community.

And then you came along, soaking yourself as you sprinted through a pump before going back for more.

His eyes traveled over you again. You were soaked, the material of your clothing sticking to you. Your tank top - now sheer - showing off your nipples which were diamond hard due to the combination of the cold water and air.

‘Fucking hell, get a grip.’

But he turned around to get yet another look, while yes’ing the person on the phone. His eyes trailed over the shorts you wore, perfectly molded to your ass and thighs. The rest of your legs were equally toned and for a split second, he could imagine them wrapped around his hips.

‘Oh for fuck’s sake.’

He wanted to talk to you more but this phone call ate up his time. Finally after what seemed like forever, he was free again. He decided at that moment, he needed to clear his head, so he sat back down and willed his cock to deflate. He closed his eyes and was about to cover his face with a hat when you interrupted him again.

“So what’s a lapsed Catholic to do if she wants to rejoin the church?”

Rafael lifted the hat off his face and sat fully. He cocked a brow. “Well, you can start by coming to mass tomorrow.”

“I suppose,” you sighed. “It’s been awhile.”

“How long is a while?” Rafael inquired gently. He gave you a kind smile. You looked away, embarrassed. Heat flooded your cheeks.

“Years,” you supplied.

Rafael nodded and then cocked his head. “Are you familiar with the parable about Jesus and the lost sheep?”

You nodded. “I’m the one that Jesus is looking for?”

Rafael nodded. “Maybe. But what about coming to mass first and checking it out before making any commitments?”

You nodded again. “I’ll think about it.”

“Hey stranger! Long time no see!” a familiar voice called out, interrupting the conversation.

You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned to see Maria, now accompanied by her boyfriend.

“I thought you were going to the city,” you asked, chucking your beer in the garbage can next to you.

“Changed our minds. Plus Robbie’s sister is being a little bitch.”

That earned a ‘hey!’ from Robbie before he acquiesced. “Yeah, she is being a little bitch.”

You turned back around but Rafael was nowhere to be seen. You looked at the pamphlet once more before folding it and tucking it away for later.

“I cannot believe you spoke to Fr. Barba like that,” Maria continued.

“Wait - what? He’s a priest?”

Maria nodded. She then pointed to your still soaked appearance. “You can see your tits through your tanktop. Wrong day to not wear a bra. You look like you could win a wet-tshirt contest.”

You felt your cheeks grow hot in embarrassment as you looked down and realized Maria was in fact correct.

“Probably thanked God - that celibate life must be rough,” Robbie laughed. “He’s been a priest for how long? I can’t imagine not having sex.”

You weren’t listening though, too consumed in your embarrassment and attraction. Of course the hottest man on the planet is a fucking priest. ‘And of course I would basically flash him.’

Later that evening at home, you poured some kibble in a bowl for your cat and heated up a quick meal. As you waited for your food to finish, you rifled through your closet for something to wear to church. Your eyes landed on a sundress that you knew was probably much too short for church. You frowned and kept looking until you found the perfect outfit.

You told Maria that you were going to attend mass. You had already promised the hot priest you’d come to the fellowship group. If you didn’t show, then you would be a liar, and you couldn’t lie to a priest - right?

—

The following morning you found yourself at church with Maria.

“I want to sit up in the front,” you whined as the both of you shuffled into the pew.

“I’m too hungover to sit in the front,” Maria grumbled. “You think I can get away with leaving my sunglasses on?”

You rolled your eyes. “This is probably the one mass you can get away with that shit,” you replied before slapping your mouth with your palm. “I didn’t mean to curse, shit, oh no, God damnit!”

Maria laughed at your foul mouthed word salad. “You can confess to Fr. Barba after.”

The organ began to play and you stood. You motioned to Maria to stand and she ignored you, instead choosing to rest her head on the back of the bench of the pew in front of her. You watched as the altar servers carried in the items needed for mass - Cross, the processional candles, incense and Bible. Your eyes followed as Fr. Barba walked behind. He wore green vestments and you vaguely recalled that the color of the robes indicated where you were along in the church calendar.

Mass went as typically as you remembered. You sang from the hymnal, prayed along the congregation, and actually listened to the homily instead of daydreaming about being anywhere else. Fr. Barba was straightforward, discussing Jesus’ anger.

“Paul commands us in Ephesians 4:26, be angry and do not sin; don’t let the sun set on your anger. I’ve heard a lot of sermons on the “but do not sin” part: anger can give opportunity to the devil and birth all manner of hell in relationships. I’ve also heard a lot of sermons on the “do not let the sun go down on your anger.” But I haven’t heard any sermons on these two words: be angry.”

Fr. Barba paused before continuing. “Be angry. As we look upon a world of injustice and abuse, even in the church, we can learn how to be angry in love together. And we learn this the way Paul did: from Jesus. Jesus got angry. Regularly. And we see a pattern in his anger: whenever someone vulnerable or powerless suffered injustice at the hands of the strong and powerful, Jesus opposed this injustice with loving anger.”

The Liturgy of Word concluded and then transitioned into the Liturgy of the Eucharist. You watched intently as he performed prayers and rites in Latin that had existed for thousands of years.

It was time for Communion but you didn’t feel up to receiving. So instead, you just watched. As you scanned the church, your eyes locked with Rafael’s. He was watching you, a frown on his face. You felt your cheeks grow hot once more and you turned away out of embarrassment.

Mass concluded shortly after. The fellowship hour was immediately afterwards, held in the basement of the church. Maria had zero interest in attending so you parted ways before heading down. The smell of incense and something very “churchly” permeated in the air as you walked down the dimly lit stairs.

The basement was as expected, acoustic tile ceiling, fluorescent lights, that unique slight churchy smell, boxes of various items, beige metal folding chairs, long tables, pillars in the middle of the room holding up the sanctuary one floor up. There was a life-size nativity in the back, with a Joseph whose hand was broken and an unfortunate beheaded sheep statue. Someone was setting up a coffee maker and someone else was plating store-bought cupcakes.

You chit-chatted with some congregants, majority of whom you met at the block party.

As you made a cup of coffee, you were unaware of Fr. Barba entering the room. It was only when you heard his voice and the sound of people shuffling to sit. You turned, sipping your coffee as you did so. No, Fr. Barba was no longer in those ceremonial robes that hid away everything. Instead, he wore fitted dark denim with a black shirt and his collar.

Your eyes tracked him as you continued to speak with others. You made sure to glance back to the folks you were speaking with - implying you were listening when you really weren’t. You watched as he moved easily through the room, greeting people, making jokes. What a waste of good looks.

People began to slowly sit, the chatting quietly winding down. Eventually, you took a seat. Everyone sat in a circle and you felt as if you were in an AA meeting.

“Welcome,” Fr. Barba began. “Thank you all for taking the time to come today.” He turned his gaze to you and stretched his arm in your direction. “We have a newcomer.” He gave you a small smile, his eyes crinkling in the corner.

You gave a small smile and waved, before introducing yourself.

There was a more in depth discussion of the readings from the mass. You hung onto every word Rafael said. Fr. Barba, Fr. Barba, Fr. Barba you chanted in your mind as if you were trying to ensure that stayed in your mind.

He’s a priest you told yourself. He’s Father - not Daddy.

—

You became a regular at church and also at the afternoon fellowship. You were usually quiet, opting to listen more so than anything. Today was different.

Fr. Barba asked the group to share their most favorite parts of scripture; he had anticipated the majority of responses - Genesis, one of the Gospels, Proverbs. Your comment made his stomach flip.

“I personally enjoy Song of Songs,” you offered. “It celebrates sexual love.”

“Jewish tradition reads it as an allegory of the relationship between God and Israel,” Fr. Barba offered.

“In Christianity, it is read as an allegory of Christand his bride, the Church,” you countered.

“I am my beloved’s, and his desire is for me,” Fr. Barba responded.

You flushed. “His mouth is sweetness itself; he is altogether lovely. It is an unabashedly sensuous, even at times quite erotic, paean to love,” you continued as you leafed through the Bible you held.

“No matter what interpretation you choose to believe, the book is a powerful and profound reminder of the beauty and depth of God’s love for us. It is a beautiful book that has been celebrated for centuries and one that can still bring joy and comfort to believers today.”

There was a pause and then Rafael clapped his hands. “I think that’s enough to stop for now. Thank you all for coming. I’ll see you all next week.”

You hung back, helping to clean up. Slowly the group dissipated, leaving you and Fr. Barba alone.

“You’re still here.” Fr. Barba’s voice was thick and dark. You shivered in response.

“I really enjoyed myself today,” you replied softly as you approached him. You closed the gap between you and him. You could press your hands to his chest if you wanted to.

Oh how you wanted to.

Your nipples strained against the confines of your top. You wanted to drop to your knees and show your worth - take another type of communion.

‘Behave,’ you told yourself.

“Did you now?”

His expressive, bright green eyes are now dark and stormy. His jaw is tight. You swallow hard.

“I don’t know what you’re playing at, but I won’t have it,” he continues. His voice is clipped and you shivered in response.

You shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m not playing at anything Father. I’ll see you next week.”

Rafael didn’t reply. He watched as you turned about and walked away with a deliberate sway of your hips. His eyes were focused on your ass. All he wanted to do in that moment was to haul you over a pew and spank your ass for your insolence. His cock ached and twitched in his pants.

You turned back towards him, a full smile gracing your face. “I’m really looking forward to being a member of this congregation.”

Once you were gone, Rafael sat down on a folded chair dismayed.

He was so screwed.

God almighty help him.

—

It was a delicate dance. There was a part of you that enjoyed toeing the line with Fr. Barba. And part of you felt a smidge guilty. But fuck, he was so beautiful it almost hurt to look at him.

As Fr. Barba. Well, you weren’t alone in the desperate want and lust you were feeling.

He played with you in his fantasies. He knew what he was getting into when he became a priest. He swore to God to not know another’s body. It was the least he could do considering he killed baby Drew.

He wasn’t supposed to have these kind of thoughts.

It had been so long and he was under your spell.

After the group meeting, he had to hustle back to his home - a small home attached to the rectory. He made quick work of removing his clothes. He hissed as grasped his aching cock. Stroke, stroke, stroke.

Self pleasure was also a no-no.

Masturbation involved lust. It’s to use another person for your own selfish pleasure. The person becomes an object and it denigrates their dignity as a human being.

When he was around you, he wanted to throw everything into the wind. The image of your soaked tits haunted him. He threw his head back as he continued to jerk himself. Desire. You made him fucking feral.

He imagined kissing you after the meeting the second you and him were alone.

His lips crushed against yours. He pressed your back against the wall, his knee parting your legs.

One hand tangled in your hair, his lips brushing against the sensitive spot of your skin.

It was as if you released a part of him that he had kept tucked away for so long.

He stripped away your top, before mouthing your tits before dropping to his knees. Your hand moved through his hair.

“Taste me,” you’d beg. You’d beg so nicely and who was he to deny his lamb?

He imagined grabbing your ass, pulling your dripping pussy to his mouth. You would drape a leg over his shoulder, grounding yourself hard against his mouth.

“Fuck, right there. Just like that.”

He would put his thumb on your clit, rubbing circles as he pushed his tongue inside, tasting, licking, and sucking.

“You like that?”

“Yes,” you’d moan. “Don’t stop. Oh God, I am going to come. Please, fuck me.”

He would undo his belt and drop his pants, grasping his cock in his hand. He’d rub the head of his cock along your folds, teasing you until neither one of you could stand it before burying himself deep inside of you.

“I want everything you’ve got. I want to feel it all.”

“Is that what my little lamb wants? To be fucked hard like a whore?”

“Yes,” you’d beg. “Please.”

“Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.”

“Come for me little lamb,” he’d encourage. You’d fall apart at his words. He could imagine how your wet, soft, pussy would suck his cock in, deeper and deeper. He would imagine thrusting deep and hard, his cock dragging against your sweet spot. He’d come hard, deep inside of you, his come painting your walls.

In reality he grunted and groaned as his cock kicked. He came all over his hand and belly. He panted, waiting for his breath to even out.

‘Shit.’

—

It was a gloomy Tuesday morning as Rafael worked in his office. Homilies were a lot like closing arguments. Instead of trying to sway the jury, he had to connect with his congregants. Instead of evidence, it was the gospel.

He was distracted. His mind kept wandering to you. Were you some kind of a test for him?

You were under his skin. An itch that couldn’t be scratched. Or stroked. You had consumed his thoughts.

He tore the yellow sheet off the pad before crumpling it.

Rafael tried very hard to live a holy life, especially as he had known what life was like, could be like, outside of the church.

And until now, through God’s grace, he had done very well.

He looked at the time. Confession was to start soon. Confession wasn’t popular. Usually before the bigger high holidays, people would come in droves. But a regular, run of the mill Tuesday? Not a chance.

He had his regulars though, who would come without fail. They were long standing members of the community. Being bilingual was a big boost for the church.

Rafael put on his collar, and changed into dark slacks from jeans and then headed out.

—-

You peeked into the booth. Seeing that it was empty, you made your way in and sat down.

“Forgive me Father for I have sinned. It’s been… um, years since my last confession.”

Rafael was stunned. It was you.

‘Focus.’

You began with some menial, ordinary sins. Rafael focused on what you were saying, ignoring the throb of his cock.

“And, of course, this… all leads to the most wicked one.”

Rafael swallowed hard. “Go on.”

“I’ve been thinking about you.”

“Me?” Rafael questioned. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck.’ “What do you mean?”

“You’re so kind and thoughtful. I probably shouldn’t say this because it’s so inappropriate, but you’re so fucking handsome. And it’s resulted in some wicked behavior.”

“Wicked how?” His hands ball into fists before he grabs the tops of his thighs hard, trying to steel his thoughts.

“I— I’m sorry. I need to go.” You’re stammering over your words, your heart racing.

Rafael heard the panic in your voice and he frowned. The confessional creaked as you stood. Rafael was filled with an overwhelming need to get you to stay. “We all sin. Including myself. God made us imperfect and can he really get to be disappointed in us when we do imperfect things?”

“I— I’ve never felt the way I do about you with anyone else. And I am filled with despair about wanting what I can’t have,” you reply softly. “What can I do about this? Can I say 10 Hail Mary’s or something?”

You continue. “And can I be absolved if I don’t feel bad about what I’ve done or said in the past? They’re all things I wanted to do.”

Rafael wracked his mind on what to say.

And before he could, he heard you open the door and leave. He stood quickly and pushed open the curtain. But it was too late. You were already gone.

—

Sunday mass came like clockwork.

As Rafael led mass, he scanned the pews for you. He was disappointed when he didn’t see you. He saw your friend and he made a mental note to talk with her afterwards.

“Fr. Barba, great service,” Maria commented as she shook Fr. Barba’s hand.

“Thank you. I- I am glad you came. You had been coming with your friend—“

“Oh! You mean — yeah, she couldn’t come today. She had some stuff to take care of. She’s new to the area and I know she could really use the community support,” Maria replied. She looked past Rafael and smiled brightly. “Oh there she is!”

Maria called your name. Rafael turned around and he saw you across the street. You were dressed more conservatively and he felt a wave of disappointment.

You half jogged across the street and before Rafael knew it, you had materialized in front of him.

“Hi,” you greeted as you tucked your hair behind your ear. “Sorry to have missed mass.”

“It’s okay,” Rafael laughed. “It’s not like God is keeping tabs.”

You smiled. Maria turned to you. “Was just telling Fr. Barba how you could use some community.”

“Uh,” you blanched. “Yeah, something like that.”

“Well, help is always needed at the community center or food pantry,” Rafael offered. “Meet plenty of people that way.”

“Yeah, sure. I - I saw in the bulletin you were looking for someone to go over your books.”

Rafael shifted. “Um, I was looking more for a CPA—“

“Well you are in luck!” Maria hit your arm. “You’ve got your own CPA here.”

“I-I am not a CPA. I was treasurer of my sorority years ago,” you explained. “But I lost my job and I need money,” you shrugged. “That’s all.”

Rafael sighed and rubbed his neck. As much as Olivia was a bleeding heart, he was too, especially with his roots. “Um, stop by the rectory sometime next week and we can talk it through.”

You smiled brightly. “Oh that would be great! Really! Thank you.”

Rafael nodded. You turned to Maria. “We have to go. Reservations?”

Other congregants had started to line up to speak with Rafael. He turned towards the line, but not without glancing back, watching you walk away.

Rafael admired you from behind, appreciating how your jeans hugged you in all of the right places. A flash of heat coursed through him.

‘God damnit, what are you doing?’

—

You never came by. Or to mass. Rafael thought you might have had a change of heart. Perhaps your flirtation with religion had flamed out. He found himself longing to see you but also increasingly frustrated with himself. He busied himself as much as possible so that he couldn’t even think of you. You were the absolute last thing on his mind.

When you rapped on his door two and a half weeks later, Rafael was more than surprised. He was downright startled, like a horse with thunder. He had been knee deep in the church’s financial books.

“I’m sorry, I hope I am not intruding. I know it’s late.”

Rafael relaxed. “No, not at all. Please, come in, sit.”

You slunk in the chair with ease and eyed Rafael’s outfit. “You don’t look like a priest.”

Rafael arched a thick brow. “And what do I look like?”

“Like a regular guy. Someone I would meet at a bar,” you shrugged as you waved your arm as if to make a point. Rafael was wearing dark jeans with a button down, sleeves rolled up and brown brogues.

Rafael laughed. “Well, there was a point in my life where you would have found me there. Speaking of bars, would you care for a drink?”

“I thought priests could only drink church wine.”

Rafael laughed again. “No, no, we can drink more than church wine.” You heard the clatter of glass and the sound of liquid pouring. “Here,” Rafael turned to you, his arm outstretched, holding a lowball glass with amber liquid. “Macallan 18.”

You took it from him and swirled the liquid before sniffing. You closed your eyes as you took a sip. You hummed, pleased. “This is good. Dangerously good.” You took another sip. “Oh this goes down way too easy.”

‘I bet my cock will go down easy.’

Rafael coughed and shook his head. “Uh, yeah, it does.” He took a large swallow of his glass and then poured himself another glass.

“You’re wondering why I’m here now. Instead of two weeks ago.”

Rafael perched himself on the corner of his desk. “I am.”

“I wish I had a reason that made sense, but I don’t. The truth is…” you glanced around the office and it became very apparent that the room was decorated more like a legal office than what you assumed an office in a church would be like.

“The truth is?” Rafael prodded.

You stood and started walking around the room. Your hand trailed the spines of the stacks of books lined up. It was then when you spotted the law degree in the corner.

“Wait - you are a lawyer? And a priest? How does that work?”

“Was,” Rafael clarified, before taking a long sip of his drink. “Was a lawyer.”

“You don’t practice anymore?”

“No,” Rafael shook his head. “Not anymore.”

You walked up to the bar cart and poured yourself another drink. You took the chair and pulled it until you were sitting directly in front of Rafael. “Tell me.”

Hours passed. Rafael unloaded everything on you - his time at SVU, baby Drew, the why to choose a life of faith.

And that bottle of Macallan?

You stood very close to Rafael. Your hands pressed on his chest. You swayed slightly and Rafael placed his hands on your hips, steadying you.

“Hire me. I’m really good with numbers.”

Rafael’s eyes narrowed. “We aren’t going to have sex.”

You scoffed, before almost losing your footing. Rafael’s hands gripped your hips tightly. “Who said anything about us having sex?”

“Do you think I don’t realize what game you’re playing?”

“Game? I’m not playing a game. I need a job.”

“Don’t play dumb.”

You rolled your eyes. “I am not. Besides, do you even know how?”

Rafael pushed you away slightly. “Did you not just hear the story of my life?”

“That doesn’t answer my question, Father.”

“The how?”

You walked back and closed the gap between you and him. “Yeah. The how. To fuck.”

Rafael’s eyes darken. He cupped your face and you leaned into his palm. He slowly walked around and behind you. He dropped his mouth to your ear. “I know how to fuck. I’ve fucked plenty. Men. Women. I know how to make someone come.”

A rumble emanated from Rafael’s chest. You spun on your heels and looked up at him. Rafael loomed over you, your eyes growing wide. Your breath hitched. “Is that so?”

Your faces were inches apart. You were breathing each other's air, growing dizzy over the shared breath. Your heart was thumping and you were so needy in that moment you thought you were going to burst.

“Little lamb, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

You let out a whine. “Please.”

Rafael lifted your chin with his finger. Your eyes searched his before settling on his lips. His beautiful pink lips that you knew they knew how to kiss. And lick. And fuck. And make someone come.

“You’re a good priest Father Barba,” you whispered. “But you’re also a good man. And doesn’t a good man deserve a little indulgence every now and then?”

The tension in the room was thick, the air electric. You almost felt moved to tears in the desperate way you wanted him. And he wanted you.

The sound of sirens blaring broke the spell. You both jumped apart. You both stared at each other. Rafael couldn’t help but notice that you were flushed, and that flush was making its way down. You worried your bottom lip.

“It’s late,” you rushed. “I’m sorry I’ve wasted your time.”

You spun on your heels and was about to dash out the door when Rafael gripped your wrist, pausing you in the middle of the door.

You looked back up at him with wide eyes.

“You start Monday,” Rafael gruffed. You nodded, unable to say anything.

You managed to squeak out an ‘okay.’ And before you realized it, the door was shut in your face.

—

Your first week was completely uneventful. As is the next. And the week after. You’re the epitome of well behaved and professional much to Rafael’s relief.

That still didn’t mean he didn’t imagine kissing you and then some. Or how when you leaned over his desk, he didn’t imagine lifting up your skirt and plowing into you. Or that when you chewed on your pen cap, he didn’t imagine his cock between your plump, soft lips.

Under the collar, he still was very much a man.

And you didn’t let him forget it. He lost track of the amount of times he had to get himself off. And still it didn’t nothing to quell the ache for you.

You threw yourself into the work and you actually found it quite fulfilling. You made plenty of friends and found yourself volunteering in other parts of the church - like working at the food pantry or singing as part of the church choir.

Summer ebbed into Fall. The air grew cooler. The days started to grow shorter and the leaves, once a vibrant green, were now tinged with yellow and orange, painting the city in a fiery palette.

You were working in the rectory that morning. When Myra, the arthritic receptionist, ended up in the hospital with pneumonia, you eagerly took over the job. You were busy enough with church duties as it was but it made sense for you to take over.

Utilizing your skills from past work experience, you ended up bringing St. Blaise into the 21st century thanks to Intuit and Microsoft.

Since you started, the more Rafael was able to get to know you. In turn, the more he wanted you. He did everything in his power to not even look at you for too long, at least when you were not not looking. It was hard - but Rafael was a glutton for punishment. Being around you made Rafael addicted.

It did seem as if you heeded his words - you were the utmost professional. You did such a good job that Rafael wondered if maybe he had misread the signals altogether and that one night was just the booze.

Then one particular evening, Rafael saw you walking with Maria, her boyfriend, and another gentleman. He didn’t want to stop and say hi - if anything he wanted to avoid it altogether and cross the street but you and him made eye contact. It would have been too awkward to avoid you by that point. It ended with the five of you at the local watering hole - where this gentleman who had his arm wrapped around you. Rafael didn’t enjoy how jealousy washed over him - he knew he did not have any right to you, or your body. And he would never be - you were never together like that.

You were waiting at the bar, ordering another round when Rafael joined you. You looked over at him and gave a small smile.

“So you’re on date then?”

You looked at him incredulously. “Rafael—“

“You live here, you can go on any dates and with whom.”

“He’s just— you and I— we never…

The bartender arrived with your drinks. You went to pay, but Rafael stopped you. “I got it.”

“Don’t you have to take a vow of poverty?” you asked as you grabbed some of the drinks. Rafael grabbed the remainder and the two of you walked back to the booth.

“One of the most common misconceptions about the Catholic priesthood is that all priests take a vow of poverty. In fact, most do not. Diocesan priests do not even make vows, they make “promises” of obedience to their bishop: chastity and to pray the Liturgy of the Hours. Vows, on the other hand, are typically made by members of religious orders, such as Franciscans, Benedictines, Dominicans, etc.”

You nodded. “Got it.”

You walked ahead of Rafael, a sway in your hips as you did so. Rafael’s eyes narrowed and he sucked in a breath as he followed, exhaling slowly.

When your date - Eric - as he later learned - began mouthing off about theology and religion, Rafael rolled his eyes. Still, he wasn’t going to let himself get bested and using the skills he acquired from all the cross examinations he had ever done, basically annihilated the other guy. You snickered behind the glass of your drink but Rafael saw it and felt his chest puff.

At one point - Eric whispered something in your ear. Whatever he said was enough to make you blush and shift in your seat, smiling to yourself like you had a secret. Rafael didn’t miss it at all and he felt himself stiffen and his jaw tighten. Your eyes met once more, and you witnessed the visceral reaction he was having, saw that little flex of his jaw and the way his eyes glittered with something primal and possessive. You could see that part of him would gladly punch Eric, and even as Rafael’s eyes locked with yours, he didn't hide it. Briefly, the kind and generous priest was all gone. Even the smart and sassy lawyer was superseded: you saw the man, capable of lust and jealousy. Over you. The thought of inspiring those feelings in him made heat pool in your body, and you squeezed your thighs together. His eyes registered your expression: you were certain he knew how you felt.

By end of the night, you went to hug him good night but Rafael dodged you. You frowned and bid him adieu as he dipped his head in acknowledgement. Rafael continued to head home - and had he turned around, he would have seen you still standing, watching him.

Another week went by.

The pounding on the door stirred Rafael awake. He looked over at the clock - it was a little after midnight. A breeze blew through, causing a chill to run through his body.

He tugged a t-shirt on and groused that he was on his way.

Rafael was not expecting to see you.

“Father,” you greeted. There was a very large bottle of Macallan in your hand. Your eyes trailed over the very sleepy priest in front of you. His hair was askew and he looked adorable. You swallowed at his tight white shirt and low slung gray sweats.

“What is going on?” Rafael asked. He reached in his pocket for his glasses.

“Fancy a chat about my existential crisis?” You thrusted the bottle of scotch into his arms and walked in, pushing slightly past him.

Rafael got a whiff of your shampoo and it sent all blood straight immediately to his cock. He looks back outside and satisfied not seeing anyone else, closes the door behind him. “Existential crisis?”

“Do you have any glasses?” You ask, ignoring his question, as you look around. You hadn’t ever been inside a priest’s dwelling and you were surprised at how normal it appeared.

“Wow.” You stopped misstep and looked around. “This is not what I expected.”

Rafael rubbed his neck. “Huh? Oh, what did you expect it to look like?”

“I don’t know. More holy? Crosses everywhere. Stacks of bibles? Not something out of an architectural digest - with a kitchen island!”

Rafael laughed. He took the bottle from your hand and walked over to the island where he placed the glasses. “A lot of this is from…” he waved his arm around. “Before.”

“Pre-priest Rafael.” You clarified as you walked over to where he was and took an amber filled glass.

“Yeah,” Rafael replied before taking a long drag of his drink.

You nodded and hummed before taking another sip. “When you were just a man. Who had sex. A lot.”

“I’m still a man.”

“Come on, you know it’s not the same.”

You knew better. You knew you shouldn’t.

What would your friends say, what would they do if they ever find out? What about the congregation and surrounding community?

This was bigger than you, bigger than him. What were you thinking?

But it’s Rafael. Fr. Rafael Barba. Not that it matters - he’s not actually yours. He belongs to God.

But now when he’s staring down at you the way he is right now, teeth catching his full bottom lip, sleep-tousled hair and stormy, smoldering eyes, you can’t help but fall from grace.

“Kiss me.”

“You know we can’t.”

“So? Kiss me anyway.”

“I’m a priest.”

“Kiss me anyway.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

Rafael swallowed the remainder of his drink and let out a huff. He pointed a finger toward you. “You…you’re trouble.”

You closed the gap between you and him. The room felt electric. You pressed your hands onto his chest. “So? Kiss me anyway.”

Rafael sucked in a breath. You press yourself even closer, your hips automatically seeking his. Rafael pushed you away gently. “I told you we can’t. I told you I can’t.”

“Why are you denying what’s between us?” Your hands shook as you poured yourself another glass. You turned and leaned against the island. “God made us to be sexual creatures. It’s his design. It’s his idea, his gift to us.”

Rafael sighed in irritation. “Our sexual desires are no surprise to God. He made us, and He gave us a strong sexual desire to enjoy within the proper context.” He pointed to you and then to himself. “This is not the proper context. If I wasn’t a priest, then it would be different. This is real life. What we do has real consequences.”

“If you weren’t a priest,” you murmured. You swallowed the remainder of your drink and slammed it on the island. Warmth flooded your body and you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or him or a combination of both. Likely the latter. “Tell me you want me. Tell me I was never imagining things.”

Rafael remained silent.

“You have the right to lose control. I know you think—”

“You don’t know what I think,” Rafael acerbically spat. “And no, I don’t have the right.” He began to pace. “You don’t know the misery I live in when you’re not around.”

“And you think I am not?” you questioned. Your voice wavered and your eyes welled with unshed tears. “It’s never been like this with anyone. Never. I want you. I can’t have you. But please - let me live in the solace that you want me too. That I was never imagining any of it. I am going crazy.”

Rafael paused mid-stride and looked at you. He took a deep breath.

“What’s it gonna be? I am begging you.”

It was like something in him snapped when you said that. Rafael slammed his own drink before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He walked over and pressed you against the island. You let out a squeak in response. You could feel how hard he was against your belly. He brushed some of your hair back. Your breath hitched and a flush spread along your skin.

“Say it again.”

“Tell me you want me.”

“No - repeat what you said at the end,” he all but growled. You chewed your bottom lip and nodded.

“I beg you.”

“God help me. You beg so prettily,” Rafael murmured. He pulled at you, hands grabbing at hips, lips crashing into yours in a bruising kiss. It was over before you could register and you pulled back to look into his eyes. You wrapped your hands on his face and then dove back in, returning the kiss, equally as hard.

The momentum was desperate, frenzied, hands everywhere. You let out a gasp as Rafael backed you against the kitchen island. The scruff of his beard dragged against your skin, his lips working your jaw, your ear, moving down your neck, and you let out a strained moan. You pressed your hips upwards into his, feeling his erection. Rafael had to stop and inhale sharply before resuming his attack on your skin. The tips of his fingers find skin under your shirt, and dig into your flesh. One of your hands is twisted in his shirt, the other grasping the waistband of his sweats as he felt a leg curve around his; it was as if your body functioned in tune to keep him as close as possible.

Rafael’s lips found purchase on the hollow of your neck. You let out a groan as you sagged against him, melting into his embrace. The want was overwhelming.

His hands made way to the front of your jeans and he nimbly undid the button and fly before shoving his large hand down your panties. “So wet for me.”

And you are. You’re so fucking wet, it’s obscene.

The tips of his fingers drag through your slit.

“Fuck,” his teeth scraped along your jaw. “You’re soaking.”

He slid two fingers deep inside of you. You keened wordlessly into his shoulder, biting down on his shoulder to suppress a moan.

“No, no, pretty lamb. Look at me,” Rafael husked, his voice laced with an edge of dominance.

You pulled back and met his gaze. His fingers drove deep up into you, pumping, long and needy. His thumb rubbed against your clit. Your blood is boiling, your body vibrating. You’re close. You know it. He knows it. His fingers continue their momentum, finding that spongey spot inside of you that most folks couldn’t ever find.

The walls of your pussy ripple against his fingers. “Be a good little lamb and come for me.” It was Rafael’s turn to beg. “Be my good girl and give it to me.”

You chanted his name as if it were prayer as you come around his fingers. Your body is abuzz, vibrating. You whine out his name in three syllables as you coat his hand with your arousal. Rafael swallowed your cries as he covered your mouth with his. The kiss, which was initially passionate, slowed in intensity, to just soft, slow licks that almost felt reverent, worshipful. Eventually he pressed his forehead to yours and you both drank in each other’s air, breathing heavily. You whimpered as Rafael removed his fingers from your cunt. You watched him with wide eyes as he slipped his fingers into his mouth. His eyes fluttered close as he let out an appreciative sound.

“Do I taste good, Father?” Your voice was laced with lust.

“My sweet, decadent little lamb,” Rafael complimented. “But we cannot do that again.”

“Do what?” You asked as you pushed him off slightly to give yourself room to drop to the floor. You palmed his cock through his pants, pleased with yourself as he groaned with want and need.

A car backfired and the sound caused you both to startle, effectively ending the spell. Rafael helped you up from the ground. “This cannot happen again.” His voice was firm. And before you could protest any more, you found yourself back outside, the door shutting in your face.

Rafael leaned against the door, his head pounding, his cock aching.

‘You idiot! You shouldn’t have done that. Shouldn’t have given in to your melodic voice and sparkling eyes. You had no business being in his life.

But the crack he left open for you made him believe that he had more to lose now than when he met you at the block party all those moons ago.

He rubbed his face, tired and frustrated. And he went back to bed to once again to take matters in his own hands again. ‘Fuck.’

TBC.

#rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba and reader #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba fanfiction #rafael barba smut #priest kink #priest! rafael barba #priest! Barba x reader #law and order SVU au #law and order svu fanfic

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charlottecherries · 5 months ago

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My January 2025 Workout Plan

Abs

Jack Knives, left, 30 sec x 2

Jack Knives, right, 30 sec x 2

Flutter kicks 45 secs

Sit ups 15

Mountain Climbers 30 secs

Reverse sit ups 20

Plank 30 secs

Knees to chest 15

Crunches 20

Glutes

Glute Bridge 30 seconds

Bulgarian Split squats, each side, 20

Hip thrusts 20

Reverse lunges, each side, 10

Squats 20

Calm shells 20

Fire hydrants, each side, 10

Glute kickbacks, each side, 10

Cardio (options)

30 minutes dance

3k run

30 minutes kick boxing

Pilates

Yoga

Mondays- abs

Wednesday- glutes

Friday- Cardio

Sunday- Pilates

Everyday- Stretching and flexibility

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tonysaintborgi · 5 months ago

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they always talk about how they're adding litter boxes to schools for the "kids who identify as cats" but it's never been an issue for the dog kids they just go on the fire hydrant out front

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prettyboypistol · 6 months ago

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Smoke and Joke || Keatlejuice x M!Reader PART 3

Part 1, Part 2

It had been a few days since you released the terror that was Beetlejuice out on the world. You had to admit, it was kind of funny to see the mayhem on the way to the grocery store and back. Nothing happened to you per se- Beetlejuice was courteous in a way like that. He knew not to mess with the man that freed him- after all, you, unbeknownst to yourself, were the key to sealing him away if you so desired. So, all chaos was decidedly two blocks away from wherever you needed to go in your daily life.

That is, until you came home one night to see Beetlejuice on your couch, drinking your beer, and smoking one of those nasty soul-cigs as f.r.i.e.n.d.s reruns played in the background.

"Y'know, you could have asked before raiding my fridge."

"Yeah, but you weren't home." He responded, puffing a claw of smoke to beckon you closer.

Oh what the hell, you'd bite. You plopped down next to Beetlejuice and took the beer from his hand, took a long swig, then handed it back.

"That's a dirty lil' habit of yours." Beetlejuice chuckled as he swallowed some beer, intentionally licking the rim to gross you out.

"Hm?" You mumble, your eyes glazed over in boredom as you watched the television idly.

"Taking things that ain't yours, toots. You don't know where my mouth's been."

"As if I'd catch something from a ghost." You breathed out a laugh. "Besides, I'm too tired to care at this point. Pass the beer again- wait, no, I need something stronger." You said as you got up to rummage around in your freezer for your vodka. It was a quarter empty.

Either you were more of an alcoholic than you thought or that bastard on the couch also got into your vodka. You looked back to him, and all Beetlejuice gave was a toothy, gross, grin. As if he could ever look innocent. Yeah, right.

Whatever, he could get you some more as a make-up later. You took the bottle out from the freezer, mixed it with some orange juice, and sat back down with your cup in hand and sipped quietly. It wasn't your favorite way to get drunk, but it was a fast way. And with the company you had over? You'd like to forget him ever being there.

"So, why are you here anyway?" You couldn't help but ask.

Beetlejuice laughed and shook his head slightly at the question, as if you were stupid.

"Why wouldn't I? I'm a bein' of pure chaos. Thought I'd spice up your life a lil- God knows you live a milk-toast life."

"Damn." You responded. He was kinda right. All you did was wake up, work, drink, and sleep.

"Besides, this place is just boring enough to hide away in." Beetlejuice added. That made your head snap up to look at him.

"What did you do."

"I mighta messed with the pipes of the fire hydrants."

You groaned and flopped your head back onto the upright cushion. "You were a mistake. I thought you were just some dumb poltergeist."

"I could be a bigger mistake." Beetlejuice snorted as he jokingly placed a hand on your thigh. You quickly swatted his moldy hand off of you.

"As if." You sneered as you fished the box of cigarettes from your pocket and placed one to your lips.

Suddenly, Beetlejuice grabbed you by your jaw and pulled you far too close for comfort. You stared into his eyes. You felt his faux-cold breath on your face. You finally got a good look at the grime that caked his face- it was moss. His grub-pale skin revolted you on a visceral level, especially the earthy smell that radiated off of him.

Although, you expected him to smell like a rotting corpse. But no, he just smelled like wet grass and dirt. Like a freshly-watered grave. Either way, you prayed that the proximity ignited your fight-flight response- that's why you hoped you heart raced. You barely noticed Beetlejuice's real intention of using his cigarette light to light your own. When he pulled away, he took a good look at you and burst out laughing.

"Oh Christ- look at you!" He cackled as he snapped his fingers to materialize a mirror in front of you. Shit, you were blushing. HARD.

"Shut up." You grumbled as you took a long drag of your cigarette. "I'm allergic to disgusting bastards."

"Awe, I'm touched, babes."

As you two smoked and drank on the couch, you couldn't help but steal glances at Beetlejuice from time to time.

He wasn't as hideous as you first thought.

SHIT. NO. NO NO NO NO. OH GOD NO.

#fanfiction #tim burton beetlejuice #beetlejuice x reader #beetlejuice #beetlejuice movie #beetlejuice 2 #betelgeuse #beetlejuice 1988 #keatlejuice #keatlejuice x reader #beetlejuice x male reader #beetlejuice x mreader #prettyboypistol

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steelboxmaker · 2 years ago

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youtube

Turkiye Fire Hose Reel Cabinet Production Line

#youtube #Turkiye machine #fire safety #fire fighting #fire alarm #fire hose reel cabinets #Tukiye fire hydrant box #steel #engine

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pinkmochi56 · 4 months ago

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(Sorry if the formatting sucks: I'm on mobile. Plus, it's my first Tumblr post, so I'm not good at using it, yet.)

Headcanon Below:

HEADCANON: Terasaka looks like the kind of guy who owns a big, scary-looking dog, but this guy is actually a kitty person!

There was a time when he deliberately committed minor crimes (kicking the fire hydrant for attempted destruction of public property; doodling vulgar drawings on the police station's glass door with a dry erase marker for vandalism) and turned himself in to Kimura's dad because the punishment was always a few hours of community service at the animal shelter.

See, Terasaka couldn't be seen going to the shelter for fun: he has a reputation to keep! So he had to have a reason to be there, and that was all he could think up on short notice.

But there was a catch: if the crime was too severe, his parents would be called. After a lengthy grounding for throwing a rock at the lights on a police car ("Come on, Mom, Dad! I meant to hit the back window, not the lights!") ("Keep on digging that hole there, son.") he quickly learned to stick to the minor crimes mentioned above.

Mr. Kimura caught on within the first two weeks because Terasaka was neither bright nor a good actor, and the two made an unspoken agreement that any time Terasaka wanted to go to the animal shelter, he could doodle (non-obscene) things on the front door of the police station with a dry erase marker (because Terasaka didn't want to waste time scrubbing at permanent marker when he could be playing with the kittens *cough* *cough* er, I mean, cleaning the litter boxes and kennels).

Oh, and did I mention he managed to develop a totally-not-bullshit dog allergy on his first day of community service as soon as the receptionist said the people at the dog kennel needed help?

Yeah, he didn't come here to snuggle with the barking, wiggly dogs, thank you (no offense to them! They're just not his preference!).

Of course, Koro-sensei managed to find Terasaka and snapped a picture or two (dozen) for the yearbook. But when he saw Terasaka taking his own pictures, Koro-sensei had Ritsu hack into Terasaka's phone and send them to his own. This is one of the ones Terasaka took. That's why he looks happy and not embarrassed.

#ansatsu kyoushitsu #assclass #terasaka #ryoma terasaka #cat #kitty #kitten #fanart #my fanart #headcanon #my headcanons

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chil-aglia · 29 days ago

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𝗕𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗜𝘀 𝗧𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗸𝗲𝗿 𝗧𝗵𝗮𝗻 𝗪𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿 |ROTTMNT| (Male OC)

~𝑳𝒐𝒚𝒂𝒍𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒔~

Be sure to read the tags on my Ao3 so you guys know what you’re getting yourselves into.

Art above is done by me. PLEASE feel free to make your own art and idk tag me in it or something—

Warnings: Past abuse, past childhood abuse, shock collar, usual angst stuff I suppose

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

2 weeks had flown by after Three came back to the hotel, having been almost choked to unconsciousness by Draxum before his boss told him he had an idea to put in play.

But what puzzled Three was the fact that he hadn’t told him anything, and when he inquired about it to his boss, Draxum merely said that when it was the right time, he would tell him. But he did give Three one specific mission — one that Three tolerated but wasn’t at all thrilled about.

Keep an eye on the turtles.

Why would Draxum ask that? He wasn’t entirely sure. He had hoped Draxum wasn’t interested in recruiting these morons, but who knew what Draxum was thinking? And so, here Three was, topside in the human realm, watching from the rooftops as he observed what the turtle brothers were doing.

If there was one good thing Three was enjoying about this mission, it was the fact that he was able to explore the city more, seeing things he hadn’t seen or heard before. It was almost exciting — but of course, Three couldn’t show that. It showed childishness and weakness, and Draxum raised him better than that.

"Okay, mutant silverfish, you’ve eaten people’s laundry for the last time!"

He came to an abrupt halt, crouching on a rooftop and looking down as he saw the turtle brothers in the alleyway, confronting what appeared to be…a giant silverfish?

Huh…interesting.

Raphael struck down at the silverfish nibbling on some clothes it stole, but the moment Raphael connected with the silverfish, it split into two.

"What the…?"

The two silverfish now held a pair of human underwear between them while Raph growled and hit them both with his tonfas again — but they only split once more. They screeched and pounced on the underwear, chewing.

Three noticed Donatello flying towards his brother — wait, flying?!

With narrowed eyes, he noticed Donatello’s shell was not biologically correct; it seemed like it was built onto him with tech as his main support for getting things done.

Oh, that’s right, Three recalled seeing a file on the turtles that he believed had died long ago. One of them was a soft shell — he supposed that was Donatello’s species.

“Hey, Raph! Every time you smash them, they just split in two!"

"I know. Isn’t it cool?"

Three rolled his eyes, shaking his head at what he was hearing. They must all be idiotic. Raphael kept smashing the silverfish left and right, but suddenly there were dozens of them. They growled at him before leaping on the snapper, knocking him down.

"I got you, Raph!" Michelangelo announced, grinning widely as he flung his kusari-fundo at the silverfish.

“This situation calls —”

The weapon wrapped around the silverfish, and he yanked them off Raphael.

“—for a dose of my psycho-acrobatics!"

Michelangelo jumped around in the air before smashing face-first into the bottom of a fire escape. Three couldn’t help but shake his head, running a hand down his face.

"Don’t intervene…" he told himself. He wasn’t here to help out again — he was only ordered to watch them. Nothing more.

At some point, the silverfish began chittering and jumping on the box turtle mutant, who winced slightly at being pecked by them.

"I got you, Mikey."

Leonardo…Three’s twin.

Three observed from afar, curious to see if maybe his twin wasn’t entirely dumb like the rest of them. I mean — he was his twin. Surely, he showed some promise?

Leonardo sliced one of the outlets off a fire hydrant, the water shooting out and hitting Michelangelo, knocking the silverfish off him.

With a cocky smirk, Leonardo gestured to the shocked, wet silverfish, "Looks like these fish are — wait for it, you’re gonna love this…all washed up." He joked, and that was more than enough for Three to deadpan and seethe under his breath.

Morons. All of them. They were childish, took nothing seriously. He hoped whatever Draxum had planned would be something where Three could end their lives.

The silverfish attacked the three after recovering from the shock, with Donnie sighing and landing on the ground, taking out his bō.

“Ugh, this is getting old.”

With a click of a button, his bō transformed into a chest-mounted weapon that shot tennis balls. The balls struck the silverfish, knocking them off his brothers. But the silverfish ran away, causing Three’s eye to twitch. Why were they letting them escape? They were only going to come back and become more of a pest.

Three huffed, standing up. He couldn’t sit by anymore and watch this pathetic mess, so he held his sword out and jumped down, landing in front of a running silverfish, which squeaked in surprise.

“Three?!” Michelangelo exclaimed upon noticing the slider, who didn’t do much but gaze at them as he lifted his sword and impaled the silverfish. The creature squawked in pain before becoming limp and lifeless.

The four brothers winced and recoiled from the sudden death of the mutant silverfish. Three swiped his sword, cleaning the blood off as he used his foot to shove the lifeless body into some nearby trash.

“Here’s a piece of advice. The only way to get rid of a pest is to kill it. They’ll just keep coming back. And you idiots let some of them escape.”

Leonardo blinked, shaking his head and stepping forward with an awkward smile. “Where have you been? You kinda dipped on us last time,” He asked, but Three crossed his arms after sheathing his sword into the holster on his shell.

“That’s not any of your business, is it?”

“I… I guess not.” Leonardo stepped back, frowning a little. Donatello scoffed. “What are you doing here? You’re not stalking us, are you?” he interrogated with suspicion. While Three could’ve told the truth, he knew better than that. So, he did what he was good at.

Lie.

“Of course not. But it’s kind of hard to ignore loud things happening in an alleyway. Lo and behold, I see you guys.”

Michelangelo perked up, eagerly bouncing on the spot. “Do you live around here?” He cautiously but curiously asked, only for Three to exhale and change the topic.

“What are you bozos even doing? Do you do this every night or something?”

Raph narrowed his eyes at him. “No! We’re protecting people,” He assured, proudly placing his hands on his hips.

“From silverfish eating laundry? Oh yeah, you’re really showing them,” Three quipped sarcastically. He could see Donatello become a bit embarrassed, but Three was more interested in the contraption on his shell. He strode over, circling him like prey.

“What is this? I saw you flying earlier.”

Donatello huffed proudly. “Well, while I don’t really want to share my work with someone who tried to kill us and whom I don’t personally trust… if you must know, it’s my battle shell. I built it.” He leaned against his tech bō as Three hummed in acknowledgment. “I suppose you’d need something like this to protect you. You’re weak, after all, being a soft shell and all.” He said nonchalantly, making Donnie widen his eyes before narrowing them, hissing slightly in annoyance.

Weak? Him? No. Donatello was the brains of the family! He was anything but weak!

Actually…he could just show Three what he was capable of with his inventions.

“Segue, brethren. I think I have a little something to kick our skills into high gear.”

Donatello pressed down on a button on his wrist controller. A rumbling, whirring sound echoed before a huge drill burst up through the pavement in the alley.

“What the what?”

“Whoa!”

“Jumpin’ Jack Flash!”

Three stared suspiciously, tilting his head slightly, while Michelangelo rolled across the ground and hugged it.

“It’s beautiful.”

Donatello blinked at his youngest brother. “No, no, no. Not that.” He denied, grumbling when Leonardo quipped in.

“What do you mean not that? That should totally be the thing.”

“No, no, no — that’s just a little… it’s in beta. Don’t worry about it. The real thing is much more personal and thoughtful, and I really hope you like it, ’cause if you don’t, I will be crushed.”

Three scoffed lightly at his comment. Clearly, the soft-shell craved validation. A weak mindset.

“Donnie, just show it to us. I’m sure we’ll all love it!” Raphael encouraged, smiling eagerly, which had Donatello sighing in confidence.

“All right. Here it goes.”

With a press of a button, the drill started spinning and threw Michelangelo off of it. The box turtle went flying toward Three, who blankly watched him and stepped aside, letting him crash into a pile of trash.

The drill soon opened, and two yellow spotlights flashed from the ends. Shelves popped up, each holding one item and a placard with each brother’s name. Three couldn’t help but walk over and inspect the items with suspicion. One by one, the turtles grabbed their gifts.

“You even got my life colors right!”

“Oh-ho-ho, wow! I don’t know what this is, but it’s got a lot of blinkity-blinks.”

“Whoa, jazzy headgear!”

Donatello glanced to Three, the only one who didn’t have a gift. Not that he needed one. Donatello crossed his arms. “Uh, I made them before we met you, so I didn’t have time to make you anything.” He explained, face blank, voice indicating he didn’t care whether Three was upset or not.

With a scoff and his arms crossed over his plastron, Three returned the expression.

“I wouldn’t need assistance from your lousy toys anyway.”

“T-Toys?!”

Before Donatello could even express his annoyance, Three had walked past him with a bored yawn. His eyes settled on Leonardo’s collar-like thing around his nape. He didn’t know what it did, but something about it made his gut twist. Like it was something Leonardo shouldn’t be wearing.

He subconsciously reached up to his own neck but paused halfway. Shaking his head, he turned to leave — only for a strange sound from the alley to catch their attention.

Three immediately sprung into action, heading toward the inhuman noise. Perhaps curiosity, or instinct. Either way, his brothers, whom he didn’t want to admit were related to him, followed.

Coming to a halt and crouching behind some trash bins, Three felt the presence of the brothers beside him as they, too, watched in anticipation of what lay ahead.

A large pig mutant was seen capturing a few of the silverfish from earlier.

Pig mutant…?

“Another mutant? What’s his deal?” Leonardo mumbled under his breath, slightly leaning over Three to get a better view. The latter scowled at the closeness and shoved him off.

“You know what? That guy looks like the Meat Sweats,” Raphael teased, earning chuckles from his younger brothers — all except Three, who silently rolled his eyes as he waited for the mutant Raphael had named, Meat Sweats, to vanish down into the tunnel system through a manhole.

Hm…perhaps this mutant can be of service to Draxum. He’s been ranting about creating his army.

Driven by both curiosity and duty to recruit potential mutants for Draxum’s team, Three took off after him, ignoring the hisses and comments from the others, telling him to stop and stick together.

-----

The underground subway tunnels reminded Three of Draxum’s lab — a place he’d built over the years, hidden deep beneath the mansion above.

Three often preferred the darker, quieter places to the noisy outside world. He used to spend hours underground before he was old enough to carry out missions on Draxum’s orders.

The turtles followed Meat Sweats, all sticking to the shadows, though Three moved among them with expert precision. A train whooshed by, rattling the tunnel as Three used the sound to slip ahead toward what he guessed was the mutant’s lair.

The larger mutant hummed a tune to himself, cooking up something Three couldn’t quite see over his bulky frame. The turtles hid behind rows of oil barrels to watch, wincing as the silverfish Meat Sweats had caught screeched while being dropped into a pot of boiling liquid.

Meat Sweats licked his lips and started seasoning the pot. “Mmm! A little salt. A pinch of savory. Lemon for the tang….” He listed off to no one in particular, slamming the pot lid shut.

“Unleash the flavor!”

Michelangelo softly gasped as realization struck. “Unleash the flavor? Omigosh — it’s Rupert Swaggart!” He squeaked under his breath, prompting an eye roll from Three, who tried to tune them out.

He couldn’t afford distractions — not now. He had to figure out what Meat Sweats was up to, and whether this one was even worth recruiting.

“Oh yeah? Uh…who’s that?” Raphael asked.

“The celebrity chef. Host of Kondescending Kitchen. The show where he screams at chefs until they give up their dreams? I love that guy!”

Three blinked and turned to face the younger turtle in genuine surprise — how did he know all that? And even more surprising…he’d apparently seen this famous chef get mutated live on TV.

“You saw a celebrity chef transform into a pig mutant and didn’t tell anyone?” Donatello shot Michelangelo a look. “I didn’t wanna burn my risotto!” Michelangelo huffed defensively. “Château Pretenche is his restaurant.” He noted.

Meat Sweats continued humming, lifting the pot lid. The deceased silverfish floated at the surface. “Oh, he’s not gonna eat that bug, is he?” Donatello gagged, and Three silently agreed — that would be disgusting.

But instead, Meat Sweats peeled off his glove, revealing tentacles in place of a hand. Growling, he dunked the tentacles into the pot. A green, glowing ooze traveled up his arm. The brothers cringed at the scene, while Three’s curiosity sharpened. Narrowing his eyes, he shifted around the barrels for a better angle.

Leo noticed and instinctively reached out to pull him back, but missed by an inch, groaning quietly. Meat Sweats inhaled with giddy excitement. “Aha! I feel the rush of your delicious energy. The herbes de Provence — nice touch. Hm?”

Three crept closer, getting a better look at the strange mutant. But suddenly, Meat Sweats perked up, sniffing the air. “Am I picking up the delightful aroma of mutant…with an after-stench of turtle?” He murmured, grinning widely.

Three froze, shuffling back in hopes he wasn’t the one being sniffed out.

“I’m thinking…lime turtle tenderloin over a bed of saffron rice.”

Without much warning, the heavy thud of approaching footsteps sounded. Meat Sweats looked around, a mallet in one hand and his tentacles twitching.

He sniffed again, knocking barrels aside in search of them. Three softly clicked his tongue, standing up as Meat Sweats looked away. He unsheathed his sword, ready to strike if needed. But the glint of the blade caught Meat Sweats’ eye.

“Ah-ha!”

The mutant shoved the barrels aside, kicking one toward Three. Three gasped and jumped up to avoid being crushed, landing nimbly on the rolling barrel, sword poised. Before he could retaliate, Raphael charged in with a grin. “Yeah! Ha! Time to mash this pig’s potatoes — hot soup!”

Three took the distraction and darted away, leaving Raphael to fend for himself.

“Uh, Donnie? The helmet’s talking to me!” Raphael shouted as he grappled with the mallet-wielding mutant. “Oh, goody — it’s working!” Donatello seemed pleased, while Three sprinted over, leaping over the barrels and glancing back at the fight.

“Dude! Why’d you go over there alone?!” Leonardo hissed at Three, who glared back, unimpressed.

“I needed a better look. That’s all you need to be concerned about.”

“Hey — whoa!” Raphael yelled as he was chased around. He raised his tonfas, making them glow momentarily as Meat Sweats swung at him, dispersing the glow and sending Raphael crashing into a barrel.

Three raised a brow at the brief glow.

About time they learned to use them.

Raphael dodged another swing and retaliated.

“How’s this for options — smash and bash!”

He punched Meat Sweats with the tonfas’ energy, but like the silverfish before, the mutant split into dozens of smaller, piglet-like versions of himself. “He can absorb the power of mutants…” Three muttered, hand to his chin when he was understanding how Meat Sweats abilities seem to work.

“Fascinating! A new level of mutant abilities!” Donatello marveled.

His loud comment caught the minis’ attention. The mini–Meat Sweats squealed and snorted as they spotted the group. Leonardo and Michelangelo bolted, while Three grumbled, knowing fighting them would be pointless if they kept multiplying.

The group scattered. Donatello was yanked down by his ankle and dragged away, shouting for help.

Michelangelo scaled a steel girder, then leapt down at one of the mini mutants. “Impact imminent,” announced an automated voice as Michelangelo's jumpsuit suddenly inflated like a balloon.

“What the—?”

He bounced around like a pinball.

“This is totally messing up my scene!”

Three ducked to avoid getting flattened by the bouncing turtle, his sword slicing through a few mini–Meat Sweats. Leonardo fended off a group stacked on each other’s shoulders, leaning briefly on his ōdachi.

“You’ll beat me…”

A mallet swung at him. He ducked, kicked them aside, and quipped, “—when pigs fly!”

An electric shock crackled through his collar. He yelped, groaning.

“What was that?”

No response came as more enemies closed in. Three kicked away another pig stack, stealing a glance at Leonardo, noting the cocky smirk as he fought on.

“These little piggies are gonna cry wee-wee-wee—”

Another jolt. He groaned, collapsing, battered. “This thing doesn’t like my one-liners?” He quipped. Three, however, froze — his eyes wide.

His hand reached for his own neck, brushing against the skin where a collar once sat.

-----

Twelve-year-old Three screamed until his throat felt raw. The mystical collar Draxum had forced upon him burned, shocking him with waves of unbearable pain.

It was a punishment. A shock collar, illegal for good reason — abuse devices made for enslaving yokai. This one had five intensity levels, with five being the most excruciating.

Three had no idea what he'd done to deserve this.

It burns.

“AHH!”

He collapsed to his knees, clutching the collar that only its owner could remove.

“Have you learned your lesson yet?”

Three nodded rapidly, even though he had no idea what the lesson was. He just wanted it to stop.

“I don’t think you have.”

What?

Three opened his mouth to protest, but another scream tore out of him instead.

-----

Three shut his eyes, shaking the memory away. That was a long time ago. Draxum had his reasons. Right?

Get yourself together.

He exhaled, forcing his focus back to the fight. He scowled, grabbed one of the mini–Meat Sweats, and hurled it into a wall, knocking it out cold. The last of them, it must’ve been given how there was none left around, and the turtles were seen chatting amongst themselves.

Muffled voices caught his attention. The turtles regrouped nearby — except for Donatello.

Dragged away. Hm. Not my problem.

Three sighed, about to sheathe his sword and leave when Michelangelo dashed over, grinning.

“Hey! We came up with a plan to save Donnie — wanna help?”

Three raised a hand to stop him. “Why should I?”

“Um… ‘cause we’re brothers? Family?”

“Family? I don’t even know you. Any of you.” He stepped closer, making Mikey back up, only for Raphael to block him protectively. “Hey, we don’t need you for this. Mikey was just being nice.”

“Nice doesn’t get you anywhere.” Three snapped.

Leonardo awkwardly stepped between them. “Okay, let’s chill, yeah?” He forced a smile at Three. “Mikey’s right. We’re brothers. You and I… we’re twins. So maybe…hop on board the family express?” He grinned, not noticing how Three’s gaze flicked to the collar on Leo’s neck.

“Some family,” Three scoffed, tapping the collar. “Shocking your own blood.”

Leonardo stiffened, unsure how to reply.

Three shoved past him, not bothering with goodbyes as he made his way to the nearest exit.

Brothers…how pathetic. To Three, they should have never existed.

-----

When he returned to the hotel, it was rather late — maybe just past midnight. Everyone was asleep…well, everyone apart from the yokai scientist, who was awaiting Three’s return.

“Ah, there you are…”

Draxum greeted, smirking slightly as Three walked in, stopping in front of his master and bowing respectfully. “Master. Were you…waiting up for me?” Three muttered in disbelief, a small, hidden smile forming within as Draxum nodded.

“I was. The plan I’ve decided to make…it will be put into motion tonight.”

The plan…

Three gulped, straightening up as he narrowed his eyes in utter determination. “What would you like me to do?” He asked, eager to serve and impress Draxum. He hoped it was to wipe out the turtles, leaving only him standing — the true perfect warrior for Draxum.

Draxum silently stared, chuckling darkly with a sinister smile as he strode closer to his creation.

-----

Leo’s stomach rumbled in hunger, drool escaping his mouth as he and his brothers stayed put on the rooftop, stuffing their faces with pizza they’d managed to order thanks to Donnie’s anonymous pizza box order.

They felt immense guilt about Donnie getting caught by Meat Sweats earlier. So, once they’d defeated the mutant — and taken off their “gifts” Donnie had apologised for after realising his brothers didn’t need to be “fixed” — they decided to treat themselves to pizza for a job well done.

“I wonder what happened to Three. He just left…” Mikey frowned, sighing as he recalled the moment their newly found brother had walked away again. He understood this was only the third time they’d run into him, but Mikey had wished they’d gotten the chance to really get to know him.

Maybe even become friends.

“Who cares. That jerk left us in the middle of an important task — rescuing me! I, for one, have no issues letting him leave.” Donnie rolled his eyes, grumbling at the mere mention of the turtle mutant.

“Yeah…still, I guess I would’ve liked to see how he truly is. He could be nice if he hung out with us more.” Raph commented, chewing on a long string of melted cheese.

Leo remained quiet, his thoughts occupied with his brother. He understood too — but he also knew that Three was essentially a stranger. Just because they shared DNA didn’t mean he was automatically trustworthy. Leo felt…conflicted. More than his brothers, if he had to guess.

Given the fact that Three was his twin, Leo couldn’t help but feel some sort of… responsibility for him. It was strange, he knew, but what else could he think?

His brother — the one he never knew existed, who thought Leo was dead for years — had suddenly shown up, joined forces with Baron Draxum, the Yokai who had tried to capture them the first time they met.

It was…a complicated situation.

A loud crash echoed nearby — a building away. It startled the turtle brothers, who immediately couldn’t help themselves and ran to investigate, half-expecting another rogue mutant.

“What was that?” Mikey asked, tilting his head as they jumped across to the other roof and peered down into the alleyway below. It was dark, hard to see anything. “Sounded like someone being thrown.” Donnie spoke up, narrowing his eyes in puzzlement. Then, they noticed movement below — just a silhouette, but enough to make out a figure.

“They might be hurt. We should check on them, make sure they’re okay,” Mikey announced, nodding to himself before jumping down.

“Mikey!” Raph called out, groaning as he and the others hurried to follow their little brother.

Mikey crept over to the trash bags, nervous but determined to see if whoever was down there needed help. “H-hello?” Mikey called out awkwardly, glancing behind him to see his older brothers standing cautiously nearby. They knew this was risky — if a human saw them, it could be disastrous.

A low groan of pain echoed through the alley, making Mikey perk up and move closer. It sounded like a guy.

“Sir? Do you need us to call an ambulance or—”

Mikey gently pushed aside the trash bags and gasped in utter disbelief when he saw who it was.

“…Three?!”

This grabbed the others’ attention. They ran over, Leonardo placing a hand over his mouth in shock.

Three looked like he’d just been through hell. Parts of his mesh armor were ripped and exposed. His mask was barely clinging to his face. He was panting heavily before wincing, bruises and blood visible like he’d just been in a gang fight. Exhaustedly, he looked over to the brothers.

“Help…”

He murmured, shakily reaching out before his eyes fluttered closed and he slipped into unconsciousness.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This took way longer to complete than I had hoped but here you go!

APOLOGISE FOR ANY GRAMMAR MISTAKES THAT WERE MADE, I TYPE PRETTY FAST AND OFTEN DON’T SEE THEM UNTIL I ACTUALLY PUBLISH THE CHAPTER. THEN I’D TRY AND FIX ANY MISTAKES WHEN I SEE ONE.

Quotev - Blood Is Thicker Than Water

Ao3 - Blood Is Thicker Than Water - Chapter 1 - Chilaglia - Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018) [Archive of Our Own]

First Chapter here

Next Chapter here

Taglist:

@turtl3sk3tch3s

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onesidedradiostatic · 1 year ago

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Based on these shitty mobile game ads I keep getting: You see both Alastor and Vox sitting in shitty cardboard boxes next to a fire hydrant on the street, it's raining really badly and they're shaking. You have a spare umbrella and a blanket but you can only help one of them. What do you do?

HELP WHAUHGSYUIJUAIKSJIAKOKASOL, open the umbrella and make sure it hits vox then just leave it there and let them fight over it (alastor will probably win somehow anyways). let the blanket soak up in the rain. leave the scene.

#ask #osrs.txt #SHOULD I MAINTAG THIS?????#I'll just #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #sure #sorry guys my ask backlog went up after I went to sleep

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voidsentprinces · 8 months ago

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Warrior of Light: If there's no way we can change your mind, there is only one thing left to do. Sphene: Stop me. We shall commence a combat of ar-- Warrior of Light: No, we're not to that point yet. I still have an ace up my sleeve. In order to gain access to your terminal, you will have to past a trial. Sphere: What are you--? Warrior of Light: Zenos! Zenos: A TEST! *slaps down a ReCAPTCHA* BEHOLD! QUEEN FROM THE REALM OF LEVIN! TO GAIN ACCESS TO YOUR FUNCTIONS AND FACE MY FRIEND IN COMBAT! YOU NEED ONLY OBSERVE WHICH ONE OF THESE BOXES WITHIN HOLD AN IMAGE OF A FIRE HYDRANT! Spleen: ....you, son of a BITCH! Zenos: HAHAHAHAH! THE WEAK SHALL FOREVER FALL BEFORE THE STRONG! AND THIS CONTEST IS FORFEIT! TRY AS YOU MIGHT YOU SHALL NEVER REACH THE PINNACLE FROM WHICH ME AND THEY ASCENDED! THE TRANSCENDENT MOMENT NEVER TO BE REPEATED! FALL BEFORE OUR FEET AND SUBMIT TO OUR MIGHT! OUR GIFT! AND BEFORE THE RESONANT! ALL SHALL BE MADE TO KNEEL! Scream: RESET! Zenos: NOW! SEEK THE BICYCLE IF YOU DAR-- Spinn: RESET! Zenos: WHAT DOES THIS CODE BETRAY TO YOU, OH QUEEN OF RESO-- Sport: RESET! Zenos: SPIN THIS DIAL TO SET THE PHOTOGRAPH CORRECTLY! IF YOU DA-- Sphene: MOTHER FUCKER!

#{ I just like to imagine Sphene cussing and Zenos laughing at her misery }

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goodwhump-temp · 2 years ago

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Jake Peralta Whump | Brooklyn 99

1x01 Pilot - Manhandled, thrown, held at gunpoint 1x02 The Tagger - Career in jeopardy/threatened 1x03 The Slump - Really bad day, "cursed" 1x04 M.E. Time - Squeamish 1x05 The Vulture - Angry, spanked twice 1x06 Halloween - Falls from the ceiling, concussion, falls into Terrys arms, handcuffed, painfully slams onto table 1x07 48 Hours - Exhausted 1x08 Old School - Very hungover, aches/pain, reprimanded 1x09 Sals Pizza - Punched, manhandled, talks about childhood trauma 1x10 Thanksgiving - Talks about sad childhood x2, manhandled, choked 1x11 Christmas - Santa fight, held at gunpoint 1x12 Pontiac Bandit - Exhausted 1x14 Ebony Falcon - Chest bumped to the ground, worried, punched multiple times, numb arms 1x15 Operation Broken Feather - Denial, feels betrayed 1x17 Full Boyle - Pepper sprayed 1x18 The Apartment - Daddy issues, feels doomed from eventual homelessness 1x19 Tactical Village - Jealous, heartbroken 1x21 Unsolvable - Very sleep deprived, depressed/heartbroken, drunk 1x22 Charges and Specs - Very drunk, reprimanded, fired

2x01 Undercover - Picked up/arrested, punched, balls knee'd, cuts burn/pain, held at gunpoint, bummed 2x02 Chocolate Milk - Head manhandled, back issues from Terrys 'body slam,' exhausted x2, feelings hurt, tortured (forced to eat carrots) 2x03 The JimmyJab Games - Attacked by fire hydrants, still heartbroken 2x04 Halloween II - Robbed by bears, falls, hurt by barbedwire, arrested 2x05 The Mole - Feels betrayed, exhausted, slapped 2x06 Jake and Sophia - Hurts his hand 2x07 Lockdown - Passes out (flashback) 2x09 The Road Trip - Slapped 2x10 The Pontiac Bandit Returns - Daddy issues, gut punched 2x11 Stakeout - Punched 2x13 Payback - Exhausted, collapse, numb, sad 2x14 The Defense Rests - Heartbroken/depressed 2x15 Windbreaker City - Heartbroken/depressed, obsessive 2x17 The Boyle-Linetti Wedding - Finger pain, hearbroken 2x18 Captain Peralta - Major daddy issues, major denial, abandoned, feels hurt, confrontation 2x19 Sabotage - Suspended, feels betrayed, almost hit by a truck, held at gunpoint, kidnapped, restrained, gagged, life threatened, trust rooted daddy issues 2x20 AC_DC - Painful fall, limping the whole episode, cracked ribs/broken toes/thumb fractured, hit by box, extreme pain, addicted to work, hit by a car, hospitalized 2x21 Det. Dave Majors - Drinks really strong drink, annoyed, nervous, hurts his fingers, goat jumpscare

3x01 New Captain - Punched x3, briefly sad 3x05 Halloween III - Witch jumpscare, exhausted, throws up x2 3x06 Into The Woods - Falls, surrounded by poison ivy 3x09 The Swedes - Annoyed the whole episode, disgusted, briefly held at gunpoint 3x10 Yippie Kayak - Diehard situation, punched unconscious, hostage/restrained, headache, held at gunpoint, checked out by EMTs 3x11 Hostage Situation - Handcuffed/betrayed, daddy issues !??! 3x12 9 Days - Has Mumps, constant pain, drunk from cold medicine, delerious, mump painfully poked multiple times 3x14 Karen Peralta - Slams into multiple things, falls, major daddy issues, angry 3x15 The 9-8 - (Making Boyle jealous), uncomfortable between friends, punched, nards kicked, pain, tackled 3x16 House Mouses - Flattened by Scully, knocked unconscious, restrained 3x17 Adrian Pimento - Knife to throat/restrained, jumpscared, daddy issues, talks about therapy, held at gunpoint 3x19 Terry Kittens - Daddy issues, screaming scared, sleep deprived 3x21 Maximum Security - Worried, beaten up 3x22 The Bureau - Exhausted (1 pullup) 3x23 Greg and Larry - In danger, life threatened

4x01 Coral Palms, Pt.1 - Depressed, Holt jumpscare, hit by gokart, weird wrist, scared of snakes, tackled, reprimanded (redepressed) 4x02 Coral Palms, Pt.2 - Punched multiple times, headlocked 4x03 Coral Palms, Pt.3 - Falls over fence, calf scratched, queasy/gagging, (+great Holt bonding), throat punched, held at gunpoint, shot 4x04 The Night Shift - Crutches, hair intervention, picked up by Terry, limping, pain, falls over fence 4x05 Halloween IV - Terry jumpscare overreaction, betrayed 4x06 Monster in the Closet - Falls through roof 4x08 Skyfire Cycle - Relived trauma pantsing people 4x09 The Overmining - Angry 4x10 Captain Latvia - Cut palm (bleeding), thrown against a wall, unconscious 4x12 The Fugitive, Pt.2 - Betrayed, held at gunpoint 4x14 Serve & Protect - Feelings hurt 4x15 The Last Ride - Bruised thigh, crying 4x16 Moo Moo - Talks about depressing childhood 4x17 Cop-Con - Hungover, chest pain, literally on fire, gag/dizzy 4x18 Chasing Amy - Scared, worried, slams into bars 4x19 Your Honor - Claustrophobic, daddy issues 4x20 The Slaughterhouse - Water & milk drugged, extremely jittery 4x21 The Bank Job - Hungover, held at gunpoint, framed, arrested 4x22 Crime & Punishment - Hardcore framed

5x01 The Big House Pt.1 - Life threatened multiple times, jumpscared, aggressively beaten up x3 (limping/cuts), scared 5x02 The Big House Pt.2 - Solitary confinement, daddy issues/panic, blackmailed, life threatened multiple times, on meth, very jittery 5x03 Kicks - Daddy issues, nightmare, prison trauma, confession/suspends himself, sad 5x04 HalloVeen - Jumpscare x2, prison trauma, restrained, betrayed 5x06 The Venue - Daddy issues 5x07 Two Turkeys - Sad childhood + daddy issues 5x08 Return to Skyfire - Tired, painfully thrown to the wall 5x09 99 - Daddy issues 5x10 Game Night Pt.1 - Emotional 5x11 The Favor Pt.2 - Emotional/daddy issues 5x12 Safe House - Stir crazy, throat punched, tear off mustache pain, held at gunpoint, daddy issues 5x13 The Negotiation - Held at gunpoint, hostage, sad childhood, brokenheart 5x14 The Box - Embarrassed, relationship tested, angry outburst, hit by a chair, bloody nose 5x15 The Puzzle Master - Hand twisted, jealous, hand cramp 5x17 Dfw - Very nervous, shared daddy issues 5x18 Gray Star Matual - Intimidated 5x19 Bachelor/ette Party - Sickly drunk, guilt, heartbroken 5x20 Show Me Going - Daddy issues, worried, scared 5x21 White Whale - Stressed, 5x22 Jake & Amy - Life threatened, jealous, emotional

6x01 Honeymoon - Stressed 6x02 Hitchcock & Scully - Trapped 6x03 The Tattler - Annoyed, angry outburst, therapy denial, betrayed, angry 6x04 Four Movements - Body slammed, beaten up and sobbed offscreen, pain 6x05 A Tale of Two Bandits - Emotional 6x06 The Crime Scene - Bad childhood, sleep deprived, losing sanity, looks horrible, guilt 6x09 The Golden Child - Choking, heimliched, probably broken rib, punched unconscious, kidnapped 6x10 Gintars - Nervous, guilt 6x11 The Therapist - Massively in denial, hates therapists, held at gunpoint/captured, confesses, emotional 6x12 Casecation - Daddy issues/bad childhood, scared, life threatened (bomb) 6x13 The Bimbo - Emotional x2, bad childhood, height insecurity 6x14 Ticking Clocks - Arm punched x2 6x15 Return of the King - Feelings hurt, angry 6x16 Cinco de Mayo - Tazed x2, betrayed, emotions manipulated 6x17 Sicko - Career threatened x2, almost bit, insulted 6x18 The Suicide Squad - Punched, betrayed, imprisoned, depressed

7x01 Manhunter - Undermined 7x02 Captain Kim - Stepdaddy issues/trust issues x2 7x03 Pimemento - Scared of heights 7x04 The Jimmy Jab Games II - Falls from the ceiling, pain, trips, ceiling falls on him, extreme pain 7x05 Debbie - Knocked unconscious, restrained 7x06 Trying - Hungover, sad 7x07 Ding Dong - Daddy issues, uncomfortable the whole episode, emotional 7x08 The Takeback - Angry, feels betrayed, smushed, threatened 7x09 Dillman - Sad, framed 7x10 Admiral Peralta - Punched 7x11 Valloweaster - Trips, therapy 7x12 Ransom - Held at gunpoint, kidnapped, restrained/threatened

#whump #emotional whump #whump list #whumplist #brooklyn 99 #brooklyn nine nine #jake peralta #andy samberg #b99 #b99 whump #andy samberg whump #jake peralta whump

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askaceattorney · 1 year ago

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Dear J'Luc K. Star,

Many times and I'm afraid I'm not allowed to say.

(Friendship confidentiality and all.)

I will say he lives in a three-bedroom apartment by himself with his own walk-in closet. As for what the other two rooms are for... one is the guest room and the other is for Pess.

(Yes, the dog gets her own bedroom... with her own closet... and her own toilet... YES her own toilet. Not a litter box or an... outdoor fire hydrant... her own literal toilet.)

- Phoenix Wright

#Anonymous #Phoenix Wright #Miles Edgeworth #Pess #Ace Attorney

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boxofshadows · 1 year ago

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Oh, Your Love is Sunlight

Midnight/Nemuri Kayama x gn! reader

content: best friends to lovers, reader struggles with emotions and understanding romance vs platonic feelings, reader's gender is completely unimportant for the plot, reader can be seen as autistic if that resonates w/ you, fluff, confession, bath scene (sfw but there is nudity), brief discussion of romantic & sexual attraction, reader can also be seen as aroace-spec if that resonates w/ you. Self indulgent fic

AN: hi! This is my first x reader fic ever! I tried my best, but I do take polite criticism. Please feel free to drop by and throw something in my ask box.

Although this is x reader, I do not use y/n or (your name) in this fic. I find that it makes it more enjoyable, and there was no real need because this was in first person.

It was a cold winter's night. Most of UA was fast asleep. Not you though, no. You were waiting for someone. Nemuri Kayama, your best friend. The staff had decided on having a movie night, due to much of her insistence. And then like cruel karma, she got called away as soon as the movie started. It’d been nearly six hours since you'd seen her last, everyone else had already gone to bed. You refused to let her come home alone, knowing she would likely be disappointed and a bit sad. She’d consistently been there for you no matter what, so it was safe to say she deserved this at the least.

You were pulled out of your thoughts as the very topic of your musings waltzed right through the front door.

"Nem- what the fuck happened to you?" You say, looking at your slightly battered friend. She had definitely seen better days, her hair was a mess and her makeup had gone runny, she looked tired, overwhelmed, and, overall, drenched.

Why the fuck was she soaking wet in 3°c weather? (That's 37°f btw)

"So, I got caught up on call helping with villains, right? Calls just kept coming in, yknow? Everything was going fine until the last group." She starts gesturing with her hands as she speaks. "They- they all had really powerful quirks, so I was doing my thing, and then one of them started a fire. The villains went down, and BackDraft started handling the fires. Except he burst a fucking fire hydrant and drenched me!" She says weakly, her shoulders slouching. "And then! And then my key card doesn't work because it's drenched, so I had to call Nedzu and tell him this whole story."

"Oh, Nem, I'm so sorry," You say softly, walking over to her as she sits down to take the frustratingly tall boots off. She struggles with the zipper for a minute before sighing in defeat. "Here, let me help. You've obviously had a rough night." You sit down besides her, lifting the fabric of the boot away from her leg before pulling it down.

You can see it in the way her eyes shine that she wants nothing more than to cry in frustration, and frankly you don't blame her. She'd been looking forward to being here for the movie night. "I didn't even get to be here for the stupid movie," She says wrought with emotion as you unzip the other boot. "I must look like a mess right now, crying over what is literally my job," she says, chuckling wetly.

"Well, I think it's fair that you're upset. You were looking forward to this. And if it means anything, I still think you look pretty, even drenched in water and dirt." You chuckle, setting the boots aside and handing her a pair of slippers. "We can always watch a movie, just the two of us, if you want."

"I would like that, yeah," she says, powder blue eyes staring into yours.

"C'mon, Nem, let me take care of you."

"First things first, let's get you warm." You say, gently nudging her towards the communal baths. They weren't exactly communal, more so bigger bathtubs meant to hold two or three people at a time. Not all of the staff were exactly comfortable showing themselves off.

You start the faucet on the bath, turning the water to a moderate 36°c. (roughly 97°f) she chuckles quietly at your insistence. "Are you just trying to see me naked?" She taunts, taking off accessories.

"No! You just need to warm up before you get sick, and you're also covered in sweat and dirt," You say, blushing furiously.

"Awwww you're no fun. Are you at least gonna get into the tub with me?" She asks. Her voice intones in a way you're familiar with, but not enough to the point that you know what it means. You've heard other people use a similar tone before, but that was in romantic settings. Clearly, she meant something else since the two of you were only friends.

"Do you want me to?" You ask, tilting your head owlishly.

"Sure, why not? I need help with my hair. I think there's a rock in my hair somewhere." She says, her eyes grow soft as she observes you.

"Alright, I'll be right back." When you come back to the bath, Nemuri is already in the tub. Her dirty clothes are in the bucket, and she seems to have put a bath bomb in the tub from her collection. You have bathed together before, as all friends do, but you couldn't help but be stunned by her beauty every time. The way her long slate black hair clings to her pale skin in a sharp contrast, while also managing to make her baby blue eyes pop. The way her face was littered with faint freckles and moles like a constellation that you desperately wanted to connect with your fingers. She's breathtaking, you felt lucky to have such a pretty friend.

"Well, are you just gonna ogle at me, or are you gonna get in, hun?" She says with a chuckle. "I don't bite- unless you want me too?" Your face lights up like a fire, not realizing you'd been staring.

"Sorry, I had to get you some of my clothes because I don't have your room key. I know they're not your style exactly, but it's better than walking around naked." You mutter the last part, setting the dry clothes and towels aside.

"Oh, it's fine, your clothes are plenty comfortable enough." She waves her hands, scooting back into the pool of warm water.

"Alright, do you mind..." You trail off with your face still incredibly red. Heroes had to change costumes around each other all the time, you had even done it a couple times behind a dumpster. For some reason, changing in front of Nemuri like this was much more tense. Maybe it was because you guys were such good friends.

"Oh! Of course," she says, closing her eyes and turning around. Nemuri was such a good friend, sometimes even the smallest gestures made your heart flutter. Undressing quickly, you feel something bubble in your stomach. This feeling always happens whenever you're naked or not fully dressed around Nemuri. Sometimes it happens even when you are fully dressed. Nemuri was just so pretty, you were probably just insecure.

You enter the water with a slight splash, quickly making yourself comfortable in the water. "Okay, I'm done."

"Okay," She says with a smile.

"Do you... want help?" You murmur, moving a bit closer to her.

"That'd be lovely, starlight. I can't really reach my back very well. I'll help you with yours if you want." She turns around to lean against the rim of the tub. This moment feels… strange. Oddly intimate for two friends. The special nickname she'd given you, starlight, made your heart flutter. You resist the urge to kiss her.

Kiss her? You were only friends. Sure, it was a little weird, but friends did this sort of thing all the time, you were sure of it. You again shake yourself of your thoughts and move closer. "Sure, Nem" You quickly grab the bottle of passion fruit body wash and pump a bit of the goopy purple soap into the palm of your hand, rubbing them together to create a nice lather.

You massage the soap across her left shoulder, going over any scrapes or bruises carefully. The large mass of her hair lays across her right shoulder as you massage the tissue of her upper and lower back. Nemuri sighs softly as you work out a tense not in the middle of her back with your thumb. once the left side of her back is done, you dump warm water out of a cup over her body to wash the suds away. "Does that feel alright?" You ask, instinctively holding one of her hips for stability as you scoop the mass of her hair to the other shoulder.

"Feels amazing, sweetheart." She sighs bonelessly, making your stomach summersault so hard you think it's attempting a new record. You run the pad of your thumb down her spine, applying gentle pressure throughout before repeating the same steps on her other shoulder. Her breath stutters occasionally as she continues washing her front and legs. You wonder occasionally if you're hurting her based on the way she reacts, but you know she'd say something if you were. She looks completely blissed out by the time you're done massaging her scalp and neck, and you almost wonder if she's fallen asleep.

"Still with me, Nem?" You ask softly.

"Course I am, babes," She says dreamily. "'S my turn now, yeah?" She turns around quickly, very nearly ending up right on top of you. She's still practically in your lap, at which point you turn around as fast as you can so that she doesn't see your face go red again for the umpteenth time tonight.

"Can you scoot a bit closer? I can't reach well like this," she asks, resting her soft hands on your bare shoulders.

"Y-yeah," you stammer, scooting back. Her legs drape along yours. You instinctively scrunch your shoulders as she tries to massage them.

"Calm down hun, I won't hurt you." She says quietly, running a hand down the small of your back. You know she wouldn't hurt you. You trust Nemuri more than you trust yourself sometimes. You want nothing more than to relax into her and enjoy this, but something feels caught in your throat, like your lungs have been squeezed too tight.

"Ah, I know, I'm just sensitive, sorry," you apologize and try to straighten your shoulders. It's not exactly a lie, but you also don't know what the truth is.

"It's alright, darling, don't worry." She almost seems to know something is wrong, even without telling her directly. Your face throbbed again at the nickname.

You felt the need for something, some way to understand why you were feeling like this. This couldn't be normal, you were sure people didn't usually act like this around their close friends. Maybe Nem would know, she was well versed in relationships. Nemuri had done an entire podcast on relationship advice, and she had been teaching you how to tell the difference. It was still incredibly hard to do though, so sometimes you deferred to her to understand.

"Nem, this is really off topic, but I have a question," you say as she works soap into your scalp and through your hair. You rub soap on one of your legs, before lowering it back into the water to get rid of the suds.

"Shoot away starlight," she says while massaging out a knot in your neck.

"So you know about relationships, right, and you know how much I struggle with telling the difference between romantic and platonic, whatever it is." You explain, cleaning your other leg and your front.

"Mhm, you couldn't tell if someone was interested in you if they asked to bathe with you." She says, carding her hands through your soaking wet hair.

"Yeah, exactly. So I've been having these feelings around someone, where it feels like my stomach is flipping around." You mutter, hoping she hasn't caught on just yet. "I want to spend the rest of my life with this person, and it feels way more intense than friendship, and seeing them undressed makes me feel kinda weird."

"That would be a romantic attraction, yes. Although that ‘strange feeling’ could be sexual attraction. Not everyone experiences the two the exact same way." She dumps water over your back and scalp, washing away the soap.

Oh.

She pulls the plug to the tub, standing up abruptly. You follow suit, choosing to avoid looking at her body to avoid that strange feeling again.. "What, uh, what do I do with that?"

"Well, you could tell this mysterious person.”

"That's a horrible idea," You mutter, pulling a tank top over your head.

“Why?" She asks sincerely, gathering up both of your laundry and dumping it down the chute.

"I doubt yo-they'd like me like that. They're beautiful and amazing, and I'm-" you gesture at your entire body.

"Anyone would be lucky to have you, babes, trust me." Nemuri turns the light to the bath segment off, heading out.

"Maybe someday. Or, maybe I just... Bury these feelings forever! That could work, right?" You ask, following behind her.

"No. The more you repress it, the more it's gonna hurt." She says solemnly.

"Here, I made us both high protein smoothies while I was waiting for you, in case you weren't hungry." You hand her the cup with a smile.

"Thank you, dear." She smiles at you, making your heart flutter again.

"Okay, Nem. Hypothetically, If I tell this person, and they don't like me back, what do I do?"

"If they hypothetically don't like you back, you could always stay friends, it's not really a big deal," Nemuri says, sipping her drink as you walk to her room.

"Okay," you say, shutting her bedroom door behind you. You barely make it through a movie before Nemuri decides to lay down to "relax her eyes." In her defense, the clock had just ticked over to two AM, and she had morning classes. Maybe while she slept, you could get some practice. You had no idea what to say to "confess." It's not like you were admitting a crime.

"I think I have a romantic attraction to you, Nemuri." You muttered, trying to keep quiet as you watched her sleep. That sounded too... robotic. She was beautiful, ethereal, you couldn't quite understand how someone so perfect wanted to spend so much time around you.

"Nemuri, I think- I think I'm in l-love with you." You flinch as you end the sentence, your heart racing.

Yeah. That felt right, love. Love was the right word to describe how she made you feel. "Nemuri, I think I'm in love with you," You say again, this time much more confident. "You're- You're amazing, beautiful, a competent hero and teacher, and I'm glad to spend every day with you." Your heart pounds in your chest. That felt good to say, like a weight had been lifted off of your back.

"mm.. I love you too, starlight." She says back, causing you to fly out of the bed in shock.

"Y-you heard me?" You squeak, covering your face, although it's not like she can see you anyways, you're hanging half way off the bed. The bed creaks, and then she's looming over you.

Tired blue eyes peer into yours that are currently peeking through your hands. The way she looks at you feels different now. Like she could pick you apart in seconds "Mhm, I wasn't deep asleep yet, silly." She says with a giggle. She pulls you up with her and sideways onto the bed with surprising ease. "For your information babes, I kinda knew the whole time. You aren't exactly... Subtle, darling." Nemuri kisses the side of your face.

"Wait, does this mean you like me too?" You ask, your mouth falling into an ‘o’ shape.

"What do you think 'I love you too' means, hun?"

"Oh." She peppers kisses across your face as you lay chest to chest.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for you to realize." She giggles into your now dry hair.

You smile lopsidedly at all of the affection, yawning quietly. "Can we figure the rest of this out tomorrow...? I'm tired... And you have class in like five hours."

"'Course, starlight, I'm just a little excited, sorry. good night, I love you." She says, pulling the blanket over you both as your limbs intertwine.

"Night night Nem, I love you too." You respond back, carding through her still-damp raven hair with your fingers.

End!

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#best friends to lovers #coworkers to lovers #prohero! reader #teacher! reader #gn reader #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral reader #gn!reader #bnha fanfic #mha fanfic #fluff #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #kayama nemuri x reader #midnight x reader

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