#let it be known for all other professions as well:

[tangibletechnomancy]

The shitty thing about the AI voice acting "agreement", beyond the fact that it was done without the input of the majority of people who would be affected, is that a lot of people have exactly WHY it's such a raw deal exactly backwards. It's not labor being eliminated to cut costs; it's labor being CHEAPENED even when there may very well be more of it involved.

There are lots of claims going around that AI voices are TOTALLY different from other voice synthesis we've had before because they let you just plug in a script and get the perfect read out, and that's just...not true, at all, unless you're really, really lucky. Sure, it's smoother and more intuitive work (generally) and more natural-sounding results than older iterations of voice synthesis, but there's still a LOT of specification and tweaking involved in getting it to consistently sound more like a person than a computer, let alone actually sound like a decent director might want.

In fact, one of the most effective ways to get an affect more dynamic than slightly-better-than-TikTok-TTS, is to.........have an actual human person perform it and use the synthesizer to follow along with it in a different voice!

In other words, in order for this to actually be a thing, you still need a voice actor who can give a convincing performance. And you need them to be willing to work for peanuts because their voice won't be in the final product. You need them to be willing to be denied credit because their voice won't REALLY be in the final product. But you also need them to be competent and give a good performance, because the synthesizer will follow along with them, whether they do it right or wrong. The only thing they can skimp on is things like vocal technique - you know, the way you do action scene after action scene without losing your voice by the time you're 45?

In order for this to be cheaper than just hiring a fucking actor, people in the process necessarily have to be criminally underpaid.

And yet, somehow, it's been given the go-ahead anyway!? Genuinely, fuck that.

[rafesbabyg1rl]

Private Session

Part one, Part Two , Part Three

Summary: Rafe likes to watch reader while she works as a stripper. He asks for a private session in which he'll pay a large amount for her time. Rafe takes her home and uses her however he pleases.

Pairings: Stripper!Reader X obsessive!Rafe

Warnings: Rafe is obsessive of reader. Reader is a stripper. Mention of drugs (Rafe does coke), Rafe's an ass, choking, p in v, unprotected sex, bondage, language, slight degradation, slight praise, oral (both m and f receiving), fingering. SMUT SMUT SMUT!

Word Count: 5.9k

Author Note: Hey babes! I got this idea from this GIF , like just imagine he's sitting in the strip club throwing dollar bills at you like that. UGH I need him so bad. But anyways, this fic is NOT fully proofread for errors, and I was a little fried while writing this and it's literally almost 3 am right now, but I wanted to get this posted. If you see any errors please feel free to correct me kindly! Thanks!

I promise I will work on The Watcher; I just got a bit stuck. Thank you guys for reading, I hope you enjoy! I love you all and stay freaky!

Credits: GIF from this post

You don’t hate your job, but it’s definitely not the most respected profession out there. You can’t really hate the one thing that makes you money, pretty damn good money too. What can you say, you’re good at your job. You do however hate the assholes who come in nearly every night just to get on your nerves, well more like asshole. 

Rafe Cameron loves to come in and watch you. He’ll stare for hours, just admiring you. Sometimes he’s with a few other guys from figure eight, but usually comes in alone. Honestly it’s when he comes in alone that he’s really bad. Since he can direct all his focus on you shamelessly. Rafe’s especially awnry when Barry, your boss, comes to hang out with him. Your boss is normally quite fair when it comes to his dancers; always making sure they’re not being mistreated by customers. But Rafe? Rafe has a free pass to do whatever the hell he wants to whoever. And unluckily for you, you seem to be the only one of Barry’s girls that he’s interested in. He never does so much as look at any of the other dancers when you’re around, he only cares about you. You thought it was flattering at first, but now it’s just weird.

When you see him come in tonight you sigh, still keeping up your performance on stage. God, it’s definitely going to be a long night. You’ve already had enough crap for the day, now for Rafe Cameron to waltz into the club when you’re only halfway through your shift, this is just great. God must really have it out for you.

Rafe hadn’t known you were working tonight, so he’s pleasantly surprised when he sees you on your stage as he walks to the back room to find Barry. Once he disappears into the back room with Barry, you forget about him and continue on with your routine per usual. 

A while later, you see Rafe finally emerging from the back room, making his way back through the crowd of horny, drunk men and topless women. You see him shove a small bag into his pocket as he walks into view. His demeanor is different now; even cockier than before, if that’s possible. And his eyes are bloodshot, pupils extremely dilated. 

Just keep walking. You think to yourself as you collect bills from your stage floor. Just keep walking.

But of course, Rafe stops near the front end of your stage, taking a seat. He gets comfortable, slouching back in his chair, his legs spread wide and his arms crossed over his chest as he stares up at you.

You try not to let your annoyance show as you continue dancing. Rafe watches you silently; occasionally tossing $1’s and $5’s onto the stage; only sticking to the small bills for now. Not because he’s cheap, but because he likes to take his time; build it up over time. He only throws a few at a time, so he can watch you bend over and pick up the cash however many times he wants.

You lean down to pick up the newest bills he just tossed down for you. You look at him, flashing him a flirty smile as you do with all paying customers. He shoves his wallet back into his jeans and looks up, making eye contact with you. He flashes a smirk that’s almost…charming? But, you know better than to fall for that. No matter how pretty he is, you know better.

A bit later, you take a short break from the pole to make your rounds around the club and see if you have any customers interested in your services. You hate it when it’s busy. Well, stripper you loves it when it’s busy because it means more money. But you, you hate the loud crowds of drunken perverts and frat boys; you felt so exposed. Which, you should because you’re hardly wearing anything. But, you just feel too vulnerable. You liked the calmer nights when the crowd was smaller; you feel more in control that way. And fuck is it packed tonight. You can barely move through the people, and you can hardly hear anything besides the loud music and obnoxious cat calls. This is why you don’t usually work on saturday nights; you’re just doing one of the other girls a favor and covering her shift. 

Accidentally, you bump your shoulder into somebody while on your way back to the stage. You don’t think anything of it and just keep walking until you feel a hand on your wrist. Immediately you turn back, pulling your wrist away. You’re not surprised to find that it was Rafe you had bumped into you. 

“Hey, y’think I can get a private show?” He asks, his emotions unclear as he steps closer so he can hear you. 

“Sorry sir, no rooms are available.” You say with a sensual laugh and a bright smile, no matter how badly you want to just roll your eyes and walk away. But you can’t. You must remain professional. Rafe bites his lip, taking yet another step closer. He leans in to whisper into your ear. 

“That’s not what I mean.” He keeps his mouth next to your ear.” You can hear his breathing as you think of a response. 

“Can’t, sorry. I don’t do that, I’m not a fucking hooker.” You bite back, beginning to walk away again.

But Rafe quickly retorts, “doesn’t matter, both mean you’re just a fucking slut. Fuckin’ whore.” He spits. He tries to grab your wrist again and fails, grabbing your hand instead. He lets out a jagged breath, tugging you closer. “Come on. I’ll give you one thousand for two hours.” You’re shocked at his generosity, but like you said, you’re not a hooker. You don’t sell that part of you. Especially not to this asshole. 

You don’t get the chance to respond before Barry is walking over to the two of you. “There a problem?” You sigh a breath of relief when Rafe drops your hand. But when you look at Barry, you realize he’s not asking you.

“Yeah, this fuckin’ bitch don’t know how to listen.” Rafe gestures to you.

Barry nods, taking in Rafe’s words. He steps over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder and leading you a few steps away to talk to you. “What's he want?” Your boss asks, trying to gauge the situation. It doesn’t help that he’s also been doing some lines in the back room.

“He wants to take me home. I told him I’m not a hooker.” You explain, hoping he’ll side with you.

“Well maybe for tonight you are. You know why that is, sweetheart?”

You look down as you speak. “‘Cause we listen to what Mr. Cameron says.” You recite his rule. 

“One night, just go with him. I bet he’ll pay big.” Barry pleads, not really giving you much option. 

You argue, “Yeah, and you’re just gonna take 50%.” 

“How ‘bout this. You listenin’?” You nod, looking up at him as he speaks. “You do this, you get to keep 75%.”

You think for a moment before responding. “Seventy-five percent of all my earnings.” You demand, causing Barry to chuckle. 

Barry knows you’re stubborn, and he knows he can’t legally force you to go with Rafe. So hesitantly, he gives in and accepts your deal. “Fine, fine ‘aight, seventy-five percent of everything you make.” 

You reach out to shake his hand. He holds onto it for a moment longer than is necessary, looking into your eyes, smiling a grimy smile; his gold tooth shining as the low club lighting hits it just right. “Now go get to fuckin’”, he laughs, letting go of your hand. You roll your eyes and as you turn your back to him he gives you a slight nudge back towards Rafe’s direction. 

Re-approaching Rafe, you compose yourself. “One thousand for one hour.” You negotiate, your expression making it clear that you won’t be taking no for an answer. You know he has the money, and he’s clearly willing to spend it on you.

Rafe takes his bottom lip in between his teeth, attempting to contain his amused smile. “That wasn’t the deal.” He takes a step towards you. Your demanding expression doesn’t falter as you continue to stare at him silently. He huffs out a chuckle, nodding his head and licking his bottom lip. “Okay, fine. One thousand for one hour of your time. But, anything that goes over an hour is free. And trust me, you’re gonna be begging for more.” 

“Right, sure I will.” You say sarcastically.

Rafe ignores your words. “So do we have a deal?”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Deal.”

Rafe wastes no time in taking your hand, leading you to the back room. You pass by the private rooms, seeing that one had opened up. You stop walking, making Rafe look back at you with a confused expression, waiting for your reason.

“There’s a room open…” You speak, looking over at the open door.

“I already told you, not here. That’s not what I’m paying for.” Rafe turns, pulling you behind him. He leads you into the back room, waiting for you to get your stuff from your locker. You slip some clothes over your lingerie, not wanting to go outside nearly naked. After grabbing your bag, you follow Rafe out the back door and to his truck. 

His demeanor seems to be more neutral now, rather than being plain mean. Nervously on the drive over to figure eight, you spew out words. “I don’t usually do this.” You say, looking over at Rafe. Rafe doesn’t bother looking at you, he just stares straight out at the road in front of him. You can tell he doesn’t believe you. “Really. I never go home with random guys like this. I never even have se–”. You cut yourself off, already having spilt too much. You curse yourself. 

When you’re working, you can keep a strong, dominant attitude and be more confident because it’s all just a part of your character. You can be anyone on stage, you don’t have to be yourself. But as soon as you’re outside of the club, you’re just an anxious fucking mess. Which probably has to do with why you hardly have a sex life. 

Rafe looks over to you, occasionally glancing back out at the road. His expression almost makes it seem like he’s actually listening to you; like he cares. You shake that thought out of your head and try to remind yourself that he doesn’t care about what you’re saying, he’s just paying you for sex. 

“Wait, so you’re saying that you’re a stripper and a virgin?” He asks, his eyes narrow with confusion, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

You laugh. “No! I never said I was a virgin.” You explain.

Rafe smiles when he hears you laugh, not being able to keep his eyes off of your beautiful smile. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard you laugh before. A real laugh, not the fake, flirty ones you flash to the guys at the club while working. It’s one of the sweetest sounds he’s ever heard.

“So, what then?” He genuinely asks. You’re shocked with the amount of effort he seems to be putting into this conversation, you never took him for much of a talker. 

“I don’t know…I just don’t get many chances I guess.” You say honestly, unsure why you’re sharing this with him of all people. You hate him.

“Bullshit.” Adds Rafe. “You’re a stripper.”

“Okay yeah, I’m a stripper, but that’s ‘cause I need the money. I don’t go home with the guys from the club, well…usually.” You pause for a moment. “...that’s just my job. Outside of the club I get to be myself…and I don’t know, it’s just different.”

“You’re afraid people won’t like who you really are?” His words take you by surprise, making your words get stuck in your throat.

You eventually manage to choke out a response. “Yeah, I…I guess so.” Rafe just nods. Not wanting to admit it, but he gets what you mean. You both sit in a comfortable silence the rest of the way to his place.

Arriving at Tanneyhill, Rafe parks the truck in his driveway and he quickly hops out, rounding the front of the truck and opening your door, allowing you to step out. He leads you up to the front door, grabbing his keys from his pocket and unlocking it, following you inside before shutting the door behind you two. 

You take a few steps down the hall, observing the room around you. Now that you’re seeing his home, you wish you tried to get even more money out of him. “C’mon”, he mumbles from behind you. Rafe grabs your duffel bag from you and walks in front of you, leading you upstairs to his bedroom. He sets the bag on a small couch in his room, turning around to look at you. He looks you up and down, admiring your body. His skin crawls with anticipation of what’s to come. He’s finally gonna get to do all the things he’s been dying to do to you since the first time he saw you at the club.

Rafe moves to sit on the bed, patting his lap without saying another word. You know what he wants. Slowly you make your way over to him, straddling his lap so that you’re facing him; your knees on the bed on either side of his legs. For a brief moment, you both stare at each other, getting momentarily lost in one another’s eyes. 

Carefully he places his hand on your face, cupping your jaw. His movements are slow and calculated as he leans in, enveloping your lips with his own. The kiss is slow and tender, everything you weren’t expecting. 

You pull back just enough to look over at the clock on his nightstand, noting the time in your head. You breathlessly mutter to him, “your hour starts now.” You can see him staring at your lips and without warning he leans in, kissing you. This time, he’s not being so gentle. 

Things escalate quickly; clearly he doesn’t want to waste any time with you. Rafe stands up, holding you while not breaking the kiss, he turns the two of you around and lays you on your back, crawling over you. His lips leave yours as he starts to kiss and suck at your neck, eventually finding your ear. Rafe takes your ear between his teeth, gently nipping at it. The feeling of his teeth grazing your skin sends a chill throughout your body. 

He gently whispers, “I’m gonna do what I want, but you just tell me if it’s too much, alright? Let me know if you want me to stop.” He presses a soft kiss to your ear as you nod.

“Mhm.” You mumble, acknowledging his words.

“No.” He shakes his head, “Say it.”

You oblige, looking at him as you speak. “I’ll tell you to stop if I need to.”

Rafe smirks. “Good girl.” He wastes no time before his lips come crashing onto yours again; somehow even more passionately than the last. 

A soft moan escapes your lips, only making him get even rougher. He kisses you sloppily, his tongue making sure to explore every bit of your mouth. He hovers over you, one hand pressing into the mattress beside your head, holding himself up. And with his free hand, he begins to slide off your shirt. 

You try to help him get you out of your shirt by maneuvering yourself around as best you can underneath him. Once your shirt is off, very little is left to the imagination in your work top, which is just a very lacy piece of lingerie. His hand then works at the button on your shorts, once he’s got that undone he starts tugging them off of you, tossing it to his floor. Once you’re in your little work ‘outfit’, he takes a moment to admire you up close. 

He’s seen you in skimpy little things like this before, he needs to see the rest of you; all of you. He starts to try and get you out of your lingerie, but there’s too many straps and clips, he can’t get you out of it quick enough. He starts to get frustrated, pausing your kiss as he leans back trying to get a good look at what he’s working with. Rafe’s impatience gets to him and he mumbles a quick “fuck this” just before ripping the thin fabric right off of you. 

You let out an involuntary gasp, causing him to look at your face which has an annoyed expression. This was one of your new outfits for work and he just ruined it. 

He leans in and presses a soft, wet kiss to your slightly parted lips. “Calm down, I’ll pay for it.” You don’t get a change to respond before he’s pulling the damaged fabric off of you, tossing it onto the floor as well. “Fuuckk, baby.” He mutters, running his free hand down your bare skin, tracing the shape of you as he admires your bare body. “Oh my god,” he whispers, almost inaudibly. “So fucking beautiful.” His mouth finds your chest, immediately latching onto one of your nipples; he sucks at it until he eventually pulls off to give attention to your other breast. His eyes are trained up on you, watching as your head tilts back in pleasure. 

Rafe pulls his mouth off with a pop! He stands up from the bed, walking over to his dresser. He opens up the top drawer, taking something out and coming back to you. You see a bundle of rope in his hands, your eyes widen in surprise. You hadn’t expected to be into all that. He really had this planned out. Your excitement builds; the wetness between your legs growing. Rafe sees the thoughts going on in your head.

He tries to reassure you, “relax, it’s fine, m’gonna take real good care of you baby.” He instructs you to scoot up towards the headboard of his bed. Quickly and skillfully, he ties your wrists to the bed, making sure it’s not tight enough to cause pain and not loose enough for you to slip out. You’re not sure how you feel about being tied up and against your will, it definitely leaves you very vulnerable; very out of control. However, for some reason you feel like you can almost trust him. Because so far, since leaving the club, he’s been very tentative and reassuring, even gentle at times. Which is not at all what you had expected from Rafe Cameron. 

Soon, his mouth is on you, his tongue lapping up your arousal. You struggle against your restraints, feeling like you need to grip onto something. Your hips try to run from him, only causing him to grab ahold of your thighs, keeping you in place. 

“F-fuuck…” You whine.

Rafe mumbles against your cunt and you can feel the vibrations in your core. As his tongue fucks you ruthlessly, you find it hard to keep quiet, a sea of moans escaping from your lips.

“Feel good, hm? You like that?” You pout at the loss of his mouth on you, causing him to chuckle before resuming his actions. His tongue circles your clit, only stopping to suck on it. The heat is building in your lower stomach, almost getting unbearable.

“Ohhh…shitshitshitshitshit” You almost scream. “Fuck! Oh fuck Rafe. Please, please don’t…don’t stop.” Rafe pulls back, “told you you’d be begging.” Your hips buck up, chasing after his mouth, missing the feeling of his tongue. But ultimately, Rafe obeys, his mouth continuing its ministations on you. He adds a finger to the mix, slowly tracing up and down your entrance as he sucks at your clit. He slides his long digit inside of you without warning, thrusting it in and out, curling it up to hit the spongy spot deep inside you. “Fuck,” You cry. “I…fuck. G-gonna cum, Rafe!” Your wrists tug against the rope; hurting just a bit, making you whimper in pain. Though you’re distracted by the feeling of your orgasm creeping in. 

Rafe hears your cry and he can tell it’s different from your other moans. His head snaps up from between your legs, making you miss his warm, wet mouth on you. He continues his earlier actions, adding a second finger in you, trying to stretch you out as much as he can; to prepare you for him. Your legs wrap around his head as the barrier in your stomach finally breaks, letting your excruciatingly good orgasm wash over you.

He slowly works you down from your high, pulling his fingers out from you, making you squeeze around nothing, your body hating the absence of him. His tongue continues to lap up all your juices. Then he begins to kiss his way back up your body. When he meets your lips, he kisses you tenderly again, letting you taste yourself on his lips. While kissing you, his hands work on freeing your wrists. He sees the red marks they had left, feeling proud yet also feeling a bit bad for causing you pain. “You did so good…” He praises.

You tug his shirt up over his head and run your hands down his toned chest, still attempting to catch your breath from earlier. Then you work at his belt, tossing it aside and pulling off his pants, also tossing them aside. Now that he’s left in just his boxers, you sit up. You get Rafe to lay down where you had been. Using the same rope to tie his wrists to the bed; though you’re not too confident in your knot-tying abilities and you’re unsure if it’ll be able to contain him. 

“W-what are you doing?” He asks almost nervously. Rafe hadn’t been expecting for you to take charge of him, usually that doesn’t happen to him. He pulls against his restraints a bit, quickly finding out the pain that comes with. 

“Shh…relax, it’s fine.” You recite to him. He smirks, recognizing his own words.

“Fuckin’ brat.” He spits, trying to seem upset, although he really just thinks it’s the hottest fucking thing ever. 

You travel down his body, straddling his legs as you start to slowly pull his boxers off of him. Rafe’s hard cock springs out, shooting up into the air. You gasp at the sight. You can see why he’s always so cocky now, it’s because he’s got the means to back it up. 

Your hands find him, gently stroking his cock. Rafe’s head tips back, his eyes shutting in pleasure for a moment. Quickly, he’s watching you again, not wanting to miss the sight of this. Slowly, you put your mouth onto him. Rafe tries to remain in control by bucking his hips up off the bed, shoving his cock deep down your throat, making you gag in response. You pull off of him for a moment and he chuckles. Knowing he has a limited time with you, you don’t wait too long before sinking your mouth back down on him. As your confidence builds, so does your pace. 

“Shiiitt baby, feels so fucking good.” He groans. Already, you can feel his dick twitching in your mouth, causing him to whine. Big, tough Rafe Cameron whining underneath you, completely at your mercy. He doesn’t seem so threatening now that you’ve seen him like this. “W-wait, wait baby, wait.” He manages, his words just spilling out. He struggles against his restraints some more before continuing. “Not yet; I don’t wanna cum yet.” You understand, pulling your mouth off of him. You move to undo his restraints, his mouth finding your tits as you lean over him to untie the rope. 

The second he’s free, you’re already somehow on your back with him on top of you. Rafe leans over you and you press open-mouthed, wet kisses all across his chest as he does so. He grabs something from his nightstand and when he pulls back you can see the small, shiny wrapper in his hand. Smart, a condom. You hadn’t even thought of that, but it was probably a good idea.

You place your hands over his, taking the condom from him. As fast as you can, you open it and reach down between you two, rolling it onto his cock until it reaches the base. He leans back down on top of you, kissing your neck and jaw. He whispers, “can I?”

You respond jokingly, “that’s what you’re paying for, isn’t it?” Rafe just stares at you, his expression showing his annoyance and frustration with you. Before he asks you to ‘say it’, you add to your previous statement. “Yes, Rafe. Fuck me.”

Rafe doesn’t need any further permission as he lines himself up with your cunt. He wishes he could feel your wetness on his skin, but he knew wearing a condom was the smart thing. Slowly, he presses in. Only entering you about two inches, letting you adjust to him before adding a few more inches. Slowly; inch by inch, Rafe enters you, eventually bottoming out. Rafe stays still for a couple moments until you give him a small nod. He moves his hips slowly, rocking in and out of you at a comfortable pace. Your hands wrap around him, hooking underneath his biceps. Your palms grip onto his back, your nails only slightly digging into his skin. His pace begins to pick up, getting loud moans and whines to come from you. 

“Mmmnn…nnhhgghh f-fuuckk, Rafe!” You cry out, a tear rolling down your cheek. 

The sight of your tear only turns him on more, in a dark and twisted way. He uses his thumb to wipe away your warm, salty tear off of your cheek. 

Despite his gentle touch, Rafe is now drilling into you without regard for your poor cunt. Shamelessly fucking you with a condom on. He looks at the sticky, white mess leaking from your perfect cunt; creating a slick film that coats his entire cock. He reaches out to grab you by your hair, forcing your neck down so that you’re looking at where you and him connect, “See that? That’s all you baby.” 

When you’re greeted with the sight of his entire length buried deep inside of you, your eyes begin to roll back as your next orgasm approaches. Rafe clicks his tongue at you, pulling entirely out of you. After a few moments without him inside of you, you immediately start to pout. A whine escapes your lips, “Rafe…”, your hips buck up, as if trying to draw his attention back to your needy cunt. 

A small, cocky grin spreads across his face at the sight. His grip tightens in your hair as he begins to tug, directing your gaze right where he wants it, on him. “You gotta fuckin’ see this, baby.” Rafe says proudly, looking back down at your messy pussy. Quickly, he thrusts back into you with force and you watch as your cunt swallows him whole. “See that? See what you do for me?” Rafe speaks in a tone that sounds as though he’s praising you, but he knows that your body has no other option than to take him. “See how fuckin’ well you take me? This pussy was fuckin’ made for my cock.” 

Rafe groans, pre-cum now leaking into the condom as his pace becomes sporadic. Still going through the aftershocks of your most recent orgasm, your cunt continues to squeeze tightly around him.

“Holy f-fuck.” Rafe stutters, his fingers moving to your clit, rubbing it in circles. His movements are getting sloppy, arithmetic as he tries to draw another orgasm from you before he finishes. “God fucking damn.” Rafe’s head tips back, you lean up to kiss his neck, occasionally nipping at it, your moans being muffled by him.  

Your third orgasm approaches, your entire body trembling as you shriek. “Rafe! Fuck, fuck, I-fuck!” Your screams become muted when he kisses you, shutting you up. Rafe’s own orgasm starts to creep in, his thrusts getting harder for a moment before he stills inside of you. You can feel his cock twitch, followed by the feeling of his hot cum as it fills the condom. He slowly moves, easing you both back down from your highs. Eventually, he pulls out of you, rolling off to the side and laying on his back beside you. 

You work on catching your breath as you turn your head to look over at the time; you have about fifteen minutes left with him. You don’t know what he has in store for you now, he’s already succeeded in making you cum three times within forty-five minutes. While he takes a moment to rest, you decide to get on top of him. You pull off his condom, tying the end of it in a knot. Without giving him any kind of warning, you put your mouth back on him, sucking his warm, sticky seed off of his dick. One of his large hands shoots up to hold the back of your head, pushing your mouth all the way down on him. You can feel his semi-hard cock already growing harder again. 

“S-shit, babe.” He groans, pulling you up, bringing your face to his and meeting you with another kiss, as if to thank you. 

You stand up, your legs shaky. You half walk, half stumble into the adjoining bathroom, tossing the condom in the trash. You make your way back to the bed, laying next to him. You turn your head to look at him. “What else can I do for you? Time’s almost up.” You ask softly. 

Rafe huffs, pissed off that you had to remind him that this isn’t real, he’s paying for this, for you. Without a word, he flips over on top of you, his hand wrapping around your throat. There’s something different about him now. His eyes; they carry a bit of darkness, his movements now rough and aggressive. He squeezes your neck lightly, making you gasp in surprise. “Rafe…”

“Shhh…you’re gonna take what I give you.” He squeezes tighter, making it harder for you to breathe, but not impossible. He leans down, kissing all over your neck and chest, leaving bites and bruises in his wake. You let out a small whine involuntarily; you can feel his touch throughout your whole body, like a jolt of electricity. “Shut up, whore.” 

Suddenly, Rafe’s thrusting into you again. But wait, he’s not wearing a condom. In your surprise, this way feels so much better. You can feel the warmth and smoothness of his cock as it easily slides in and out of you, making the most lewd noises. You try to speak, but his hand tightens around your throat one final time, actually making it impossible for you to breathe. He stares into your eyes, watching as your face turns red and your panic sets in. You put your hands on his arm, hitting and tugging on it. Just as your vision starts to go dark, he eases his grip. You gasp for air, taking in as much as you can while he continues his attack on your pussy. 

You’re about to see stars again for the fourth time tonight when he suddenly pulls out of you. You whine at the loss of him, frustrated that he denied you of your orgasm. Rafe rolls off of you, making your brows furrow in confusion. “What the fuck?” You question.

He looks over to the clock on his nightstand and you follow his gaze. “Time’s up.” He says plainly. You knew what he was doing. This sneaky motherfucker. He purposely got you to your climax right as the hour ended so you’d prove him right and beg for more; beg to let you cum one more time. As much as you wanted to prove him wrong and just leave, you need this, you need to feel him fill you up.

Before he can protest, you straddle his lap, sinking yourself down onto his cock. Immediately he groans, taking hold of your hips. He holds you still, not letting you move yet. “Knew you’d want more.” He says, now guiding you to grind on his dick, this new position lets him hit a new depth inside you. “M’not paying for this now.”

You don’t respond, instead using your energy to bounce up and down his length. Your climax is already near, your entire body shaking and spent from the past three orgasms he gave you. Rafe helps you out, his strong hand gripping onto you as he holds you up, drilling up into your cunt at a god-like pace. How is someone this talented, this fucking perfect, paying for sex? Surely he could get any girl he wants. Although you’re not complaining, four orgasms and a thousand dollars? How could it get any better than that? 

You yell out as the band in your stomach snaps, the pressure being relieved as a stream of your liquids squirt out of you, splashing onto his stomach, dripping down to his sheets underneath you both. You’re just as shocked as he is when this happens. You didn’t even know you could do that.

“Fuck,” Rafe growls, continuing to fuck up into your shaking body. Rafe doesn’t warn you before shooting his load into you. But the warmth and fulfillment of his seed feels too fucking good to be mad about. Slowly, you pull yourself off of him. He has to help lift you off of his cock since your body is completely spent. “You’re fucking amazing.” He presses a long, soft kiss to your head. 

After helping you clean up a bit, you change into your own clothes. Rafe drives you back to the club, the ride awfully quiet, both of you being too exhausted to talk. When you get there, he pulls his wallet out, grabbing out a large wad of cash and handing it to you. You quickly count it, and then recount it, when your results don’t change, you look up at him with furrowed brows. “That’s for being so fucking good.” Rafe had given you two thousand instead of one. This boosts your confidence a bit, an hour of sex with you is worth two thousand dollars? God, you should’ve fucked Rafe sooner. You get out of his truck and walk towards the club. Rafe speeds off out of the parking lot. 

It’s late, but Barry’s still here, though the crowd has definitely shrunken in the last hour. You walk in and find Barry in the back room. He laughs as he takes in your disheveled appearance; your hair and makeup are disastrous. 

“Looks like someone had a good time, huh? Now where’s my money?” He asks. You pull out the cash, counting 500 and tossing it to him. 

“There. That’s seventy-five percent of what I made.” You start to walk out. But his voice calls you back.

“Shit, you made two thousand in one hour just for fuckin’ him? You got some magic fuckin’ pussy or sum?” He laughs. “I might have to start sellin’ you out more, don’t I?”

Too tired to argue, you walk out. You don’t want to admit it, but you wouldn’t hate having to do that again with Rafe, whether it’s paid or unpaid.

Thank you for reading! I greatly appreciate it! PLEASE feel free to leave Rafe x reader requests!! I LOVE getting them!

[bitchimasnake-sss]

is it possible for you to do the itoshi brothers (sae & rin) x y/n? like both tg if you know what I mean 😅😅

you read my mind. it's the way i was just itching to write the itoshi brothers together omg.

☆ my life with the itoshi brothers!

── a blue lock fanfiction. // where your stay with the itoshi brothers goes wrong.

synopsis: being an exchange student coming to tokyo all on your own, weren't you grateful that the itoshi family opened up their homes and hearts to you — especially, the two bothers? pairing: afab!reader x itoshi rin x itoshi sae [aged up.] wc: 5.9k cw: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. NOT PROOFREAD. MDNI. ISTG GIRL GO TO SCHOOL. nsfw includes: THREESOME, manipulative, mean 'n jealous men (both sae and rin), blackmail, bimbofication, overstimulation, penetration, blowjob, degardation kink (slut), praise kink (good girl), marathon sex, doin' it raw. m.list

‪‪❤︎‬ rin itoshi.

rin itoshi was unnerving.

black hair, teal eyes, tall, cold demeanor, and a footballer by profession — that pretty much summed rin itoshi.

but... there was something off about him, something you couldn't quite put your finger on.

rin itoshi was quiet — too quite, in fact.

despite sharing a home with him for the past two months, there were only vague guesses you could make about him.

the sharp-mouthed raven-head kept his thoughts to himself, but never his opinions —always being the loudest at the table when it came to complaining. cladding himself whole in a blanket of coldness, his narrow eyes were always observing, always taking in everything in a silent-killer type of way.

rin itoshi was confusing.

because sometimes, you could swear it was you that his gaze was following across the room. it was you he was etching to his memory as he stole glances during dinner. it was you whose door he stood outside of in the middle of the night... or was that just a shadow?

but... why would the rin itoshi look at you?

you were sure the man didn't want anything to do with you. he avoided you like the fucking plague, leaving you ignored with one-worded answers and tight-lipped nods. you had never even seen him smile, or even meet your eyes for more than a minute straight.

the longest interaction between you two was when you had once dropped the pot of soup while carrying it from the kitchen to the dinner table, and he had rolled his eyes with a sigh, "let me help."

bending down, his teal eyes had never quite met yours. his lips were pressed into a thin line, and when his pale skin flutteringly touched against yours, you heard a wayward hiss as he clamored away to the kitchen far too jelly-legged.

rin itoshi was a phantom you could no longer comprehend.

a phantom that alit the tip of your fingers and electrocuted your whole body, a phantom akin to the weird feeling that brewed within your stomach whenever he was around.

what was he doing to you..?

⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔 ݁ ˖

knock, knock, knock.

swift knocks made you known of someone's presence outside your door.

your gaze instinctively ran over the desk you were studying at, finally stalling against the alarm clock that read 1:28 a.m.

drawing out the pencil you were chewing on past your lips, you glanced back at the closed door. you dragged your chair back, then walking towards the door with steady footing. as you meekly swung the door inwards, you found ri—

"—in?" your brows furrowed as your took his moonlit, towering figure. casted among moonshine and darkness, rin itoshi's pale face had a monotonous expression plastered onto it as per usual.

one hand on the door and the other clutching onto the half-chewed pencil, you stared at him as if he was an actual phantom. spluttering, you found your words heavy in your mouth, "what's up?"

why was he at your door at almost two in the morning?

your gaze scanned his physique — from broad, well-trained shoulders to rippling abs; taught biceps to pretty fingers— wait. what was that?

tucking the pencil in your hands against the shell of your ears, your gaze zeroed in on the book he was clutching onto, "what's that?"

rin didn't answer straight away, and something in his shady gaze made you feel like he was staring at you the way you were staring at him — or rather, your body.

nimble fingers tried to fix the straps of your tank-top, then coming down to pull down the shorts that had hiked up while studying. your hair was probably a bit of a mess, and your eyes were probably laden with sleep. it was so cold, and dark... could rin tell your face was hued red? could he tell you were chewing on the inside of your cheek, tormented by his silence?

"i need your help with something." he waited for a second, and you nodded, allowing him into your room.

as he closed the door behind him, his words were dry — a formality, you presumed, "am i bothering you? what were you even doing?"

"i uh—" your gaze shifted to the desk you had been sitting at. the desk-lamp had lit the pages of the book stark white, and you found it hard to adjust your hazy vision, "—was studying."

"of course." rin hummed — still hovering near the door —and you titled your head oh-so-cutely at him, "but why're you up so late, though? don't you have practice early in the morning, rin?"

despite being a footballer, rin was pursuing a degree. he was a year under you at the same university, you knew that. but you also knew that he didn't take any of that studying shit seriously — being a football prodigy and all. maybe that's why his answer surprised you, "i was studying too."

"oh?" you paused, taken aback, "what... for?"

"i have midterms coming up." he admitted softly, "and i— well, i've heard you're somewhat of an academic prodigy."

well, you hadn't gotten a year long opportunity to study in japan without hardwork. obviously, you were smart. you knew that, and yet your voice pitched up at his sudden compliment, "what?!"

heat climbed up the cresses of your cheeks, a wild feeling lodging itself in your chest at his acknowledgement, "n-nothing of that sort, rin."

but rin cut off your stupid ramble easily, "i need your help with studying. do you mind?"

"oh?"

ofcourse you didn't mind.

after all the itoshi family was doing for you, the least you could offer were a few hours of your night to tutor their youngest son.

you just didn't realise you were going to give much more than you bargained for.

⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔 ݁ ˖

at first, it was all innocent — professional, even.

rin itoshi would come in anywhere between twelve to one at night and spend an exact 120 minutes studying with you. sitting quietly on the opposite side of your bed, his eyes would only linger on your face, quietly taking in your instructions. and then — as soon as his time was up — rin would walk out and pretend as if he never even spoke to you.

maybe you were supposed to feel a sense of betrayal at his behavior. but he was a good student — hassle-free, quick, and down-to-business, so, what could you even complain about?

but as the days went on, his demeanor shifted.

with each forgone hour of the night, day by day, the pro-player started inching closer towards you. his fingers started splaying against yours as he guided your hand to the sum he was confused about, staying against your skin for a moment too long. and sometimes, you were sure his gaze had shifted from your face down, down, down.

what was he doing?

but ofcourse, he didn't do anything. rin itoshi must have known better than starting something with the student his family was hosting. of course.

that was until his resolve broke.

coming in one day, rin didn't even bother bringing in his book that night. hair damp from a shower, black skin-fitting compression shirt, grey sweats and the next you knew, his hand was inside your shorts and moans of his name were out of your lips.

after that day, you were rin itoshi's little plaything in the dark hours of the night.

holed up against your room, under the pretense of studying, rin itoshi would always break you just like he was doing right now.

"ri-rin." trying to soothe your scratchy throat, you gulped, "enough."

but his fingers never halted against your throbbing nub, not even as you begged him in those pathetic, little whines.

he had perched you in his lap, had your grinding your dripping, bare pussy against his naked erection — all while the tips of his fingers drew patterns against your clit.

your tshirt had been tugged to reveal your sensitive tits, and rin had found endless joy in rolling and tugging the pert bud under his fingers as you moaned and whined.

"rin—" your back arched, chest parting from him as you bucked forward with a wild moan, "s-stop, 's too-too much."

but rin itoshi just pulled you back flush against his chest. pressing his lips onto your feverish skin, he left chaste kisses against the column of your throat.

you squirmed, trying again to break free, "ri— god, stop."

when he finally spoke, his words were so condescending, "awh, too much for you?"

and despite nodding, despite agreeing with him, despite knowing that it was too much — your greedy hips gyrated over his pelvis over and over again, trying to get enough friction to land another orgasm.

"really?" he mocked you, words sharp as knife, "if it's so much, why're you still rubbing against me like a slut?"

"s-shut up." you hissed, eyes widening at his accusations — yet never stopping the delicious swirls of your cunt against his erection, "'m not a s-slut."

"hm?" the pro-player hummed, taking your nod as a challenge to wreck you even worse. his fingers sped up against you, strumming your folds as if hell-bent on making you cry. "hah, but see? still begging me to fuck you."

rin itoshi laughed, and the sound reverberated against your shuddering form and went straight to your soaking core. his fingers slowed down just a little, and you whined in distress. how could he torture you and pretty pussy like that?

he collected the honeydew on the pad of his fingers to bring it up to your soft lips. pressing the liquid against your tongue, he made sure you tasted your sweet essence just like he had all those nights.

"d'you like this?" the man asked softly, nipping your skin under his canines as his fingers stayed past your lips, "d'you like when i ruin you like this?"

god, why won't he shut up.

embarrassment sewed itself against your wobbling, half-formed words, "mmph— mm-no."

"you don't like this..?" rin scoffed in disbelief, licking at the dents he had made in your neck from his teeth, "you're telling me that you don't wait for me every night? hm?"

you tried to shake your head, but rin shoved his fingers so mean within your mouth, "you don't wait for me to come and make you cry my name every night, huh?"

"that's n—" but before you could moan out some pathetic refute, rin continued, "if you don't like this, why won't you tell anyone?"

dragging his soaked fingers down your lips, tainting your jaw, he murmured, "go ahead, tell my family how i sneak in every night and fuck your brains out."

you moaned at his lewd words, your heat throbbing wildly at every silky syllable past his reddened lips. your muscles ached as another storm brewed within your body, ready to demolish you from within. voice hoarse, you begged, "ri- ple-please please please ju-jus' touch me."

and despite his harsh words, rin complied. playing his deft fingers against you yet again, he made sure you would fall apart.

and fall apart, you did.

your toes curled, head crashed back into his chest with a soft thud, and eyes clenched shut at the feeling that ran amok in your body.

at seeing you unravel, rin goaded, "but i know you won't tell anyone else, right?" he sighed, "you like this. you like when i come and use you, don't you?"

muscles spasming, your jaw sagged open, "a-ah fuck, rin! i'm gon' mmph—"

"—shh." rin itoshi brought up another hand to your mouth, shushing you in that gentle voice of his, "shhh. someone might hear you, pretty."

and although he cooed in fake-concern, his fingers never stopped from absolutely ruining you even through your nth orgasm of the night, "you don't want anyone to find you like this, right? dumb-fucked on my lap, right?"

why was he even asking questions knowing what state you were in — knowing he was the one responsible for it, anyways.

when you gave back no answer, just moaning against his palm as sobs racked through your body, he smiled against your sweaty skin — amused.

rin itoshi mused in all his egoistic glory, "after all... such a smart girl like you would never be caught looking so, so utterly dumb. right, pretty?"

but you were too far gone to even respond.

‪‪❤︎‬ sae itoshi.

sae itoshi was a little bit better.

red hair, same teal eyes with the long lashes, a footballer by profession, a little shorter than his brother, but friendlier too — that described sae itoshi well enough.

but just like his brother, since day one, you could feel something off about him too — something lurking just below his friendly appearances, something that made you feel like a helpless prey in front of him.

sae itoshi was quiet.

but unlike his younger brother, he was quiet for a reason. that reason being to observe everything in his wicked silence. sae bid his time, collected his evidences, and waited for the correct time to pounce — like the apex predator.

sae itoshi wasn't dumb.

too many times had he noticed his younger brother sneaking into your room in the middle of the night. and as days turned into weeks, he knew your 'studying sessions' had turned into something wholly different — if your breathless moans and cries for help were any indication.

sae itoshi was nasty.

because he had spent night after night standing at your door, jerking his erection to the symphonies of your ruination, biting his lips to restrict the soft groans that threatened to reveal his presence.

"ohmygod rin—" you would cry from the other side, and sae would squeeze the base of his cock, wondering if he could fuck you better than his brother could.

of course he could. he just needed to show you that.

so, after bidding all his time, sae itoshi was ready to get what he wanted one way or the other — even if the other way was blackmail.

⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔 ݁ ˖

"yeah, sae?" you had knocked on his door, your voice shaky, "what's wrong..?"

it was 2:31 a.m., and rin had just left your room.

every fibre of your being knew how utterly wrecked you looked right now — from your kiss-bitten lips to drenched cunt. you just prayed that the ever-observant older itoshi didn't catch onto your helpless state. you prayed that sae itoshi was oblivious to your and rin's little arrangement. you prayed but it was all in vain, for sae itoshi was your new deity.

"come in." sae nodded, sitting so still on the edge of his bed. you stepped in, closing the door softly behind you with a light creak!

before you could take another step, sae threw another command your way, "lock it too."

click!

you followed his command, looking at him weird now that you two were alone in his room, cut off from the rest of the itoshi household.

it unnerved you.

did sae itoshi know? was he about to kick you out of his home now that he knew? was he going to tell his parents and would they kic—

"—how long has it been going on for?" sae leaned back, using his forearms to support his muscled figure. his voice was normal, not accusatory or angry — just normal.

"w-what?" you gave his a saccharine sweet smile, not moving an inch away from the door — scared. you repeated, this time a bit louder to mask your trembling figure, "what are you talkin-g about, sae?"

"you and rin." sae replied, almost bored of your stupid answers, "how long have you been fucking for?"

and your knees almost gave out.

you stayed silent — haunted by the shock that had overcome you. so, sae picked himself from his cushiony bed to walk towards you. with each step of his, your mouth went drier, and your vision grew hazier.

as the redhead towered over you, standing barely a hairsbreadth away with that peculiar look in his eyes — you tried to blink away the sudden pool of tears in your eyes, "l-listen sae... i-i'm sorry. r-rin said—" your gaze fell to the wooden floor, "'m so sorry please."

a sly smile tugged on sae itoshi's lips at your crumbling state — he was amused.

bringing his index under your jaw, he pulled your face up to meet his. as your jittery gaze tangled against his — the man pouted, mocking you, "are you scared right now?"

"n-no."

"don't worry, love." sae's voice dropped a few octaves. a sudden, malevolent desire churned within his system as he dragged the same index finger down your jaw and to your collarbone, "i won't tell a soul."

"i won't tell anyone." goosebumps raised against your soft skin as sae maintained the wicked eye contact, "but i shouldn't miss out on all the fun, right?"

"what..?" your lips wobbled, and sae dragged his hands down your collarbones to your chest. teasing your pert nipple from over the thin fabric, he drew out a gasp out of your shuddering body.

sae smiled at your reaction, still teasing your nipple, "you heard me."

and now, you were about to be stuffed full of sae itoshi's cock.

on your knees, sticking your tongue out for his heavy erection, you sat on the floor as sae sat on the edge of his bed.

"nod for 'yes', and shake your head no for 'no'." sae pushed his tip past your inviting mouth, delving deeper into you, "got me?"

you nodded, tongue flattening against the underside of his heavy cock. you could taste his salty pre on your tastebuds as your hands squeezed the base of his achy cock.

"good girl." sae leaned back on one forearm, another guiding your head by your hair to take him deeper, "is your stay at our home good?"

you nodded again, looking at him with those wide, doe-eyes as your sinful mouth sucked him off so good. sae almost fisted the sheets, thinking about how were so good at this.

fuck rin itoshi.

but he put aside his anger, instead asking you, "does rin bother you?"

even as you sucked on his tip precisely, you shook your head no.

"you're being honest?"

and you shook your head yes, dragging your hand up and down his shaft with each action.

"are you gonna tell rin about me and you, hm?"

you paused, looking up at guidance because truly, were you supposed to?

"don't tell him... hah, after all, he didn't tell me, did he..?" sae laughed and the vibrations reverberated in your mouth. he guided your mouth up and down, up and down, up and down his cock. nodding with resolve, he commanded you, "selfish fucker thought he could have you all to himself. stupid as fuck."

sae breathed heavier, closing his eyes at the way you kept your hands and tongue synchronized. sucking on his tip as if a succubus while your soft palms squeezed at the base of his cock.

heaving out a broken sigh, he asked, "have you ever done this with... rin?"

and despite keeping his eyes closed, he could feel your soft nod of yes.

"has he fucked you?"

and you nodded a swift no, assuring the older itoshi that whatever happened between you and rin never reached that level.

but despite the reassurance, sae itoshi fisted his sheets tighter.

the redhead clenched his jaw, and the muscle ticked at the idea of his younger brother defiling such a sweet girl before he could. instictively, sae thrust within your mouth — suddenly pushing his needy tip to the back of your throat with a guttural need to own you.

you gagged, and sae opened his eyes to relish in your wrecked sight — flushed cheeks, wide teary eyes and choked moans. his features softened at your helpless state, "too much? wanna stop?"

and you shook your head no.

"oh?" the pro-player found himself chuckling at your obedience, "hah, fu-uck, such a fucking slut."

at his words, you clenched your thighs. slick beaded against your new pair of panties, and your overstimulated cunt fluttered. but being the ever-observant, sae grinned, "awh, you like that? wanna touch yourself..? you like when i call you a slut."

and you shook your head quick — too quick, in fact.

the redhead tilted his head, looking at you in amusement as despite your embarrassment, you continued to suck him off. your tongue and hands worked against him as if it were muscle memory.

sae clicked his tongue, "does rin call you a slut too? hm? do you like it when he calls one too?"

your eyes widened at sae's lewd accusations, his syllables climbing down your body and latching onto your sore cunt. you shook your head no... and then, you found yourself nodding — shakily admitting what the raven-head did to you.

"i like you." sae itoshi smiled, raising himself up before using both his hands to grab the back of your head and destroying your throat with each fast-paced drag of his cock. "from next time, come to me when rin's done with you. i'll show you who fucks better."

and even as your throat burned, and you find yourself low on oxygen with a shaky vision — you nodded.

"and you're not gonna tell him i'm fucking you, right?"

you nodded yet again, and sae itoshi smiled — satisfied.

"good fuckin' girl."

⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔 ݁ ˖

‪‪❤︎‬ the itoshi brothers together.

your stay at the itoshi household had occupied all your nights for the last couple of weeks.

every time rin decided to pay you a visit, he would have you the way he wanted to have you and then leave. and as diligently as the first day, you would go to sae next and he would ruin you all over again.

the two brothers had made your life hard and your ability to walk harder.

another night had passed you by and you walked with wobbling feet to sae's room.

taking heavy steps through the door, you lifted your bleary gaze up to sae's bed only to find a familiar raven-headed figure standing at the edge.

"r-rin..?" any exhaustion within your limbs turned to fine dust, leaving behind a clueless woman. your fingers fidgeted, eyes scanning the room for the older itoshi. when you found no trace of the redhead, your meek voice shook, "sae's n-not here..? what're you doing here, rin..?"

"it's my fuckin' house, isn't it? i can come and go as i please." rin scoffed, crossing his muscled arms against his chest, "why are you here?"

"i—" your wide eyes shifted around to search for sae, and you gulped, trying to come up with a lie, "i just wa-wanted to check up on sae."

"in the middle of the fucking night?" the raven-head bit back, standing up and walking towards you, "how stupid do you fucking think i am, huh? you think i didn't know?"

"r-rin, listen to me." you tried defending yourself, but the raven-head was quick to cover the distance between you two with a few well-drawn-out steps. he husked, "why're you shaking?"

rin shook his head, disappointed, "did you think you could sneak behind my back without me finding out?" bringing his hand to your cheek, he squished your cheeks together harshly, "seriously? in my own house with my own brother?"

"ri-n." you started yet again when the door swung inwards and a carefree sae sauntered in.

"oh—" he stared at you and rin, "what's going on here..? i go out for two minutes, and you two have started without me?"

at the redhead's arrival, rin turned his face to look at sae, "i know what's been going on."

"awh, do you?" sae stretched his limbs lazily, taking his time before locking the door behind him, "i know what's been going on with you two too."

"i knew you were standing at that door each night, you fuckin' pervert. " rin itoshi accused his brother, and his brother just shrugged coolly, "you knew and you let her put on a show for me anyways, didn't you? so who's the real pervert?

"you stop it." rin let go of you, discarding you whole as he turned to face sae, "i had her first, sae."

"hm?" sae cocked an eyebrow, "but she likes me better. i fuck her better."

rin clenched his jaw, drawing closer to his older brother with a nasty snarl, "shut up."

"tch, no need to get so heated up, rin." turning his face to rest his gaze at you, he drawled out, "how about we ask her, hm?"

and as both the itoshi brothers turned to look at you, you felt a wayward shiver down your spine. malice in their eyes, competition in their bones, they were going to ruin you to satisfy their egos — and you were scared.

walking backwards, your calves struck against frame of sae's bed with a dull thud! and you lost balance, falling onto the soft bed.

your mouth grew dry and your skittish vision ran from one man to the next erratically. what did they think of you? that you were their personal cock-sleeve or something?

your voice shook, body pushing itself away from their towering figures, "w-what? no."

"fine." rin addressed his brother although his gaze stayed fixed against you, "let's ask her, then."

⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔 ݁ ˖

holding your thighs open, your lips wobbled as rin lined his achy cock with your entrance, pushing the tip just barely inside you.

"i-i've not done this with anyone. i don't know if im ready—" you plead your case, but the men ignored you with a soft shush.

"shh, it's okay," sae caressed your cheek, the action so soft despite how meanly he was looking at you, "nothing to be worried about. we'd take good care of you, okay?"

and before you could refute, rin found himself sinking within your heat with a sinful stretch.

"oh— rin!" your mouth parted, hands clenching the sheets under as the younger itoshi slipped further and further within you. with each inch of his length within your spasming heat, you found yourself losing your ability to breathe, to think any coherent thoughts.

before you could recover from the slight burn, sae slipped his tip past your swollen lips, "just focus on us, yeah?"

and focus you did.

sae itoshi pushed and pulled within your mouth, using you as a toy to get him off while rin itoshi shoved his dick within your velvety hole.

"ah— mmph!" your eyes widened as the younger itoshi finally bottomed out within you with you a lewd groan, "fuuuck, shit—"

you snapped your head from sae's cock to look at rin, to look at the man who was currently balls-deep within you. but to your surprise, you found the raven-head to be a wreck. high cheekbones dusted pink, brows furrowed and tongue peeking out with the slightest of drool — he looked like he was just barely holding onto his sanity

"rin, you're drooling." sae quipped, teasing his brother as he pulled your attention back on him and his cock.

"shut up." rin husked, pulling his hips back till his tip just kissed your greedy pussy, "shut up."

"don't worry 'bout him." sae guided you by your hair to take him further down your throat, "it's his first time."

"shut the fuck up, sae." rin grabbed your legs impossibly harder, fucking into your cervix as if emptying all his anger within your sore cunt.

and now, your jaw hurt, your thigh muscles clenched and unclenched, and your thoughts were an incoherent ramble with the only coherent source being the itoshi brothers that loomed over you as if your new gods.

your slick hair against your back, the sheets under you ruined, and perspiration against your skin. the room smelled heavenly — a mix of sex and their expensive colognes.

"fuck, fuck—" sae's hips quickened, his tip ramming the back of your throat in quick, mindless thrusts.

you clawed at the redheads thighs, sinking your nails into the pale skin as the overstimulation wrung each cell of your body whole.

"mmph— s-sae" you found your nails scratching down sae's perfect skin — oxygen cut-off and mouth stuffed full — all while rin itoshi shoved into you pulsating heat so, so mean. you could feel his tip smear the glossy pre against your sodden walls with each ram into you and all you could do was take it.

"shit." the younger itoshi hissed, bringing an unsteady hand up to your fluttering clit to press down on it and you swear, you went insane.

electricity jolted through you as your body was destroyed. wrecked as you were being destroyed both ways, both of your orifices being used by the two men to get themselves off. and no amounts of grunts, or pained moans, or tears could stop them.

selfish bastards.

they only stopped once sae itoshi spluttered out thick ropes of his cum inside your mouth with a guttural groan, painting your tongue with his shade. and rin itoshi followed through a few thrusts later. pulling his tip out of your cushiony heat, he left behind your spasming cunt to release against your thigh.

"not bad," sae mused in rough pants, looking over your body and the slight tremors that ran through you, "but she didn't cum yet, did she?"

rin looked at his brother, a rough scowl on his handsome face, "that doesn't mean she didn't like it."

"mhm," sae nodded and rin clenched his fist, nodding at you, "ask her if she liked it or not."

"do you think she's can speak right now?"

the brothers heaved, perspiration clinging onto their skin as they stared at your beautifully disheveled form under them. you looked so pretty like this — bleary-eyed, tongue-tied, painted with their essence against your body. heavenly.

sae tapped rin's shoulder to let his brother know to step aside, "my turn now. move."

the raven-head moved away from your body reluctantly, and as sae guided his mushroom tip against your slick-covered cunt, you shivered.

looking up at the two brothers with lower lashes lumped with tears, you mewled, "n-no more, please."

"awh," rin cooed, "no more?"

and you nodded vigorously, shaking your head to let them know of your state.

but they didn't care.

sae continued to tease you — rubbing his tip against your sensitive pussy with reckless abandon. on the other hand, rin found his mouth against your nipples in soft kitten licks.

your back arched, hands coming to bury themselves against his black locks, "rin—"

and hearing you moan out his brother's name, sae itoshi found jealousy brewing in the pit of his stomach like god's very own wrath.

pay attention to him, goddammit.

grabbing the fat of your thighs tightly, sae thrust within you — bottoming in your stretched-out cunt in one swift move that had you gasping for air, "s-sae!"

"tch, such a stupid fuckin' slut—" the redhead punctuated each word with a shallow roll of his hips, "who's fucking you right now? say my name."

clenching your eyes shut, your lips wobbled pathetically as you admitted, "y-you... sae."

but then the younger itoshi grew offended, biting down the soft flesh of your tits with his teeth, he tugged on the other one expertly with his fingers.

chasing the bite with a lick, rin flicked his eyes up to look at you and then asked against your skin, "but who made you feel better? him or me?"

"i—" your unsteady vision shot up from the younger brother to the older, then back to the younger. feeling your mouth grow dry and head feel light-headed, you rasped, "i-i dunno..?"

"you don't know?" sae cocked an eyebrow, pulling your leg to rest on his shoulder. his experienced hands used your pelvis to bring you back to him — smacking your ass with his balls again and again. he kissed his teeth, "seriously? jus' tell us."

"i—" your eyes burned, water collecting at your lashline at the way the two men tugged at your sensitive body like it were a toy. hiccuping, you repeated, "i don' know—"

"jus' think about it," rin started next, kissing your chest in between the words, "who makes you cum the most?"

"i—" you squirmed as rin snaked a hand down to your cunt, parting the folds more to expose your swollen pussy to their greedy gaze.

as the younger itoshi pulled the skin taut to expose you to the cold air, his older brother spit on your reddened nub from above. the redhead then used a hand to press down on the fluttering clit, to press patterns that fried your brain whole.

your muscles trembled, throat burning with the screams that were ripping through, "s-stop! ngh— fuck, p-please augh—"

but sae took your words as an invitation to fuck you harder and any protests of yours were drowned out by rin grabbing your jaw and kissing you.

battling his tongue against yours in a lewd dance, he drank in any arguments that you could have, effectively turning your brain to mush.

when rin itoshi parted from you, he mumbled against your wet lips, "stop screaming. you'd wake mom and dad up."

another kiss and he chased it with a warning, "you don't wanna get caught, right?"

and the thought of the humble itoshi elders finding you three like this was enough for you to shake your head.

"such a good girl." and before you could react, the raven-head went back on locking his lips with yours.

behind him, sae's pace stayed relentless. grunting and kneading the fat on your hips, he continued his steady rhythm against your slobbering, syrupy pussy.

"jus' a little more, hah— such a perfect fucking pussy. god." you're not sure which one of the two brothers was even saying it anymore — probably sae.

rin kissed down the column of your throat, nipping at the sensitive spots carelessly, and you found yourself nodding — agreeing with them mindlessly, "i'm c-close fuck—"

"are you?" the redhead repeated, a sudden triumph in his words, "cum for me, pretty."

and as you did, your entire body felt like it had been alit. muscles spasming, vision going white, and moans trapped within your larynx — you came crashing down.

barely having a moment to compose yourself, you were still seeing white, still shaking when you heard the brothers bickering.

"'s not fair." rin itoshi scoffed, pulling his reddened lips off your sultry body to argue, "i already tipped her to the edge, she didn't cum because of you."

"whatever helps you sleep at night, ah." sae itoshi pulled himself out, pumping himself lazily to release ropes of pearly white against your stomach with a restrained groan.

"shut up." the younger itoshi hissed, "switch and i'll show you."

and despite having a half-mind, your eyes widened and breath stuttered, "a-another round..?

rin itoshi turned his face to you, the muscles shifting under his sweat-covered body, "awh, scared?"

and behind him you saw sae itoshi give you an angel-like smile, "don't be. we'd take good care of you."

liars. their 'good care' had rendered your thoughtless and unable to walk.

"one last time." and somehow that was the only thing the two brothers could agree on.

oh, what a long night at the itoshi household tonight.

a/n: well, this was fun to write :) tagging: i apologize for the delay in meddle about pt.3 so have this instead guys :)) @slutforitoshi @t0mi33 @jeanbabygirl @nekoiik @kaetti @gonzalezrosemarie @megurhea @watermelonsugawaraa @kissteff @mitsurimoshi @steph-y @itorinnlvr @ch3rrybabyang3l @keiitamaa @isaisliterallyhim @mininji @5hoe1 @moodswing101 @scara-simp69 @simplymarmar @hinao24 @riinniies @tiffysolarr @ellaaa505 @actuallynarii @isabellalovesyou [damn that is a LOT of people] m.list

[buckyalpine]

Dark Dr.Bucky x innocent reader

Look, proceed with caution. Things are not always as they seem. Dirty. Nasty. Filthy. Dark. All the smut. Imagine Dr. James Barnes, highly known and well respected in his profession, devilishly handsome and so young compared to others in the same field of work.

-

"Dr. Barnes will see now" The red head at the front desk beckoned you to the room, directing you to sit on the large reclining examination chair.

"Y/n?" James strode into the office, offering a warm smile before sitting at his desk to look over your file. He nods before coming over to you again, going through the motions of checking your heart, breathing and blood pressure first. "It says you've been experiencing some lower abdominal pain?"

"Y-yes-um, lower, lower than that" You mumble out as he lightly prods at your stomach to pin point where you're feeling discomfort. You had been too embarrassed to specify where you felt cramping. You really just needed someone to prescribe you something stronger than a Tylenol.

"Are you sexually active?"

"No" You shook your head, feeling your cheeks heat up, holding back a whimper when a wave of pain made you feel like doubling over.

"Alight, I’ll examine your pelvic floor and I’ll take a blood test just to be safe. Put this robe on and then lie back for me and place your legs on the stirrups"

Your eyes grew wide at the flimsy gown he gave you, slipping it on in the bathroom, before making your way back. You’d never felt so exposed, desperately wishing you could close your legs, heat blossoming at your core when you saw him slip on gloves.

"You may feel a little discomfort but it's normal" He reassured you, applying gel to his finger tips before prodding his fingers to your entrance, the sudden coolness making you gasp.

He continued to push his fingers in, pressing against your walls, curling them, hitting a spot that nearly made you scream.

“Does that hurt?” He asked out of concern seeing your eyes glossed over, though you shook your head.

It felt good.

So good.

You struggled to bite back a whimper that nearly escaped, wishing you could stop your arousal pooling out of you the more his fingers stretched you. He shoved them all the way in before drawing them back out, your sticky slick neatly dripping onto his palm.

He hummed, using his other hand to press down on your belly making the feeling of his fingers even more prominent, your cunt starting the flutter and clench around his fingers.

You wanted to die from embarrassment at the sounds that wanted to escape, a different kind of heat starting to spread through your thighs, making your pussy feel tighter and more sensitive.

“Let me just- Without warning, he started thrust his hand, adding a third finger, pumping in and out of you till you nearly ripped the plastic from the chair from your grip alone. You felt so close, so close to something you couldn’t describe, chasing a feeling you wanted over and over again.

“D-dr. Barnes” you stuttered out, nearly squealing when he flicked your clit with his thumb before rubbing tight circles onto your bundle of nerves. “Dr. Barnes!!!”

“It’s okay, almost done” he gave you a soft smile but something in his eyes darkened as they fell to your sopping hole, his fingers moving wildly until blinding pleasure took over and you let out the scream you’d been holding in. Your juices dripped onto the table, sweat covering your body, hardly feeling the same cloth he wiped you down with.

“Your prescription should be at the front to help with the cramping” he helped you onto your shaky feet, chucking when you nearly lost your balance.

“We’ll schedule another check up for next week”

Bucky's POV

So fuckin' tight

Bucky was glad he had his white coat on or you would’ve seen his erection pressed painfully against his slacks. He didn’t need to examine anything to know what was wrong but he couldn’t help it, not with those soft doe eyes you kept batting.

As soon as you spread your legs open, he couldn’t help but get more greedy. He fully intended on just checking on you but every time you bit back a whimper, he needed more. He saw the way your eyes rolled back, the way you were soaking his hand.

Your hope shifted to chase more of them and who was he to deny you.

That button between your legs was too tempting. He told himself not to, he couldn’t go that far but he could feel you craving it and any semblance of control he had went out the window. He couldn’t just leave your cute little button untouched when it was so pretty and swollen.

He nearly came in his pants as soon as he started to play with it, working you up till you were creaming on his fingers. His jaw hardened, breathing through his nose to keep his composure as his cock started to throb, thick ropes of cum soaking his pants.

He was addicted to you.

Maybe next time he’d take care of you using his cock. Convince you only his fat thick length would make his bunny feel better. He’d have you spread out on the table again, pushing the head in to warm you up.

He’d promise his cream would make you feel good. His cum was special, you needed all of his juices and he’d give you every drop. He’d fuck you and stretch you till you were in tears, pumping you with load after load.

He pulled his semi hard, cum soaked cock out of his pants, locking the door before furiously jerking himself off again, needing to calm down before his next appointment.

He couldn’t wait for next week.

I’m so sorry, I wrote this on my break, back to work.

[sinofwriting]

Sex Positive - Charles Leclerc

Words: 2,470 Summary: Y/N goes on a podcast to talk about one thing and one thing only, sex. Note(s): NSFW just because this is just all sex talk, no actual sex, but it is the main topic of discussion. Part SMAU

Masterlist | Support Me!

“Y/N Y/L/N”

She smiles at the sound of her name, adjusting her headphones a bit until they finally seem to sit snug on her head.

“Welcome to the sex positive podcast.”

“Thank you for having me!”

“Thank you for coming on!” Elaine says. “When I reached out, I had hoped you would come on, but was shocked when you said yes.”

“I had to come on. We’ve known each other now for like two years?” Elaine nods at her words. “And yet despite that and this podcast doing so well, which by the way congrats on the new milestone. 250k is insane, and your profession we’ve never once talked about sex.”

“We have not.” Elaine laughs. “Probably because we also run into each other at events and dinners. Not the best place for me to ask how you feel about sex.”

“Well, I should tell you, I am coming on here to actually talk about how much I hate sex.” She says, ending her sentence with an eye roll, as she adjusts how she’s sitting, not even noticing her cardigan slip.

“Oh, yeah.” Elaine nods. “You hate sex.” She then nods to her left shoulder and her eyes drop and she lets out a laugh, seeing the love bites now exposed from the cardigan slipping.

“Like I said, I hate it.” She laughs.

“How is your relationship with sex? I mean, what has your experience been with it?”

She considers for a moment, “I’d say I have a good relationship with sex. It was never a topic that was shied away from when I was younger. My parents both gave me the talk, they made sure that I felt safe and comfortable to talk to them about it. They also never shied away from talking about how they had sex before they were adults, so if I did, they understood. All they asked was that I was safe.”

“And you think that’s helped?”

“Of course.” She nods. “I mean, I was sixteen when I had sex for the first time. Which was before all my friends and after that I was the one my girl friends came to for condoms and advice.”

“Was it good?”

She makes a face, “I mean, I think it was as good as two sixteen-year-olds having sex for the first time can be. A little awkward, some fumbling, finishing so quick.”

Elaine laughs, “Y’know that probably is as good as it can get.”

“Yeah.” She laughs.

“Were you like okay, I had sex this first time, I’ve experienced it, I’m good, or was it like me where you wanted to explore more.”

“Oh, I wanted to explore more. I didn’t have sex again for, I think like another two years. But I did so much self exploring. Just trying to see what I liked, what I was interested in, what I wasn’t interested in.”

“Porn?”

“Yes, there was quite a large amount of porn being watched. I read a lot of adult novels, guides, blogs, really just anything I could get my hands on.”

Elaine nods, tucking a leg underneath herself as she adjusts the microphone to be a little closer. “And this is something I’m curious about, how do you feel about porn? It’s something a lot of people are divided on, a lot of women especially.”

“I like porn. I enjoy it. Either just watching for pleasure or for research.” And she puts the last word in air quotes. “And please people listening or watching, if you see something you like in porn or are interested in, and this applies if you are reading something as well, look it up, read some guides and blog posts about it before doing it yourself. Just be safe.”

“Oh, please be safe. We have our own blog where we talk about different kinks, positions, various things and I urge you, along with everyone else who works on this podcast, to be safe with yourself and others.” Elaine says, addressing the camera before looking back at her. “So, you like porn.”

“Yes. Obviously not all porn is good, there are bad studios, there are overdone tropes, issues with the industry itself with it continuing to promote certain things because it earns them so much money. But I do enjoy it. It’s an industry that is always going to get criticized and hated and it deserves some of those criticisms without a doubt.”

“As a sex therapist, I do try to veer my clients away from porn, most of the time. And that’s mainly due to the acting of it. But it has its place in helping you learn and educate yourself. My issue is when people only look at porn and don’t look into things further.”

“Yeah, a hundred percent. It’s so important to not just take away things from porn but to take things away and expand on what you saw.” She nods.

“And of course I have to ask, what do you yourself like to watch in porn?”

“Hmm.” She thinks. “I think it depends on my mood. I think what I normally go for is something a little more rough. I’ve never really enjoyed watching people have like slow, gentle sex, not unless there’s something else there like overstimulation.”

“So, you like it rough?” Elaine asks.

She laughs, “Yes. It wasn’t something I had ever tried out before though until my current partner.”

“Really?”

She nods, “Really! I can admit that with my current partner, Charles, is where I’ve done a lot of exploring with someone else sexually. We’ve tried out many things.”

“Anything you guys didn’t like?”

“We don’t care for titles or honorifics.”

“You are crushing some dreams with that statement.”

“I know.” She laughs, well aware of the many tweets and things about wanting to call Charles daddy or sir. But it was just something that didn’t work for them in bed. The most was sometimes as a tease, she’d call him Mr. Leclerc and that was mainly to wind him up, not because the word itself was a turn on.

“What about things you’ve both enjoyed?”

“Oh, where to begin.” She teases, the both of them laughing. “Roleplay is one, bondage, edging, overstimulation. And I don’t consider this sex, but it is something we both enjoy a lot, cock warming.”

“That is quite the list.”

“Oh, just the tip of the iceberg.”

“Talk me through some of it. Bondage?”

“Yes. This was something we both had come into the relationship having never done before and wanting to do. We have the actual like rope you're supposed to use for when we do it, though sometimes we have used other things.”

Elaine shakes her head, grinning. “Of course you two have. I feel like if I see you two together, you’re always attached.”

“Pretty much. We both enjoy touch and Charles, despite all the interest in his personal life and how much already is exposed to the public, doesn't mind holding my hand or hugging or kissing me while in public.”

“Was that a worry of yours?” Elaine asks.

“Absolutely.” She nods, fingers interlacing. “I knew he’d at least, when I went to my first race, that he’d hold my hand, but I figured that might be it. And I didn’t want to bring it up since me going to Baku was so last minute for the both of us.”

“I’ve seen photos from that race and I would have never guessed that it was a last minute decision or that you two hadn’t talked about that yet.”

“Yeah, I got on a plane and was there by 11pm on Wednesday night, and the plane tickets had gotten bought maybe six hours before the plane took off. Charles had to send a photo of my ID to the front desk and had a spare key for me waiting since he had to be asleep already.”

“And then the next day, I mean you guys were very loved up.”

She grins, “we very much were. I think Charles knew I was nervous. We hadn’t officially been spotted together and he’s such a comforting person, very calming, so it was easy to not feel anxious with him holding me and pressing a kiss to my cheek every few minutes as y’know a bunch of people were taking photos of me and I’m being introduced to about a hundred people.”

“Which is overwhelming to say the least.”

“So overwhelming.” She nods.

“Though you might’ve liked that, since you’ve brought up overstimulation a few times.”

Her hands come up to hide her face, laughing into them, before they fall back into her lap. “I’d apologize, but I like what I like.”

“So it’s you being overstimulated.”

“Oh, absolutely. I find it very enjoyable.”

“I’ve never actually really talked about overstimulation, what is that you like about it? That you find to be enjoyable?”

“It’s the near constant feeling of too much, it’s so much pleasure just back to back, and everything depending on how you're doing it, can feel just like raw? And exposed? And you don’t think you can orgasm one more time, you just can’t again, but then you can and it feels at least in my experience just so good and then you do it again and again, and every time the pleasure of it just washing over you is even more and more and it’s the only thing you can focus on, everything else just fades away.”

“You make me want to try it.” Elaine laughs.

—

Charles’ head immediately perks up when he hears the hotel door open. “Chérie! How was the podcast?”

She smiles, setting her bag down, before moving over to the couch where Charles is sitting and happily sitting in his lap before Charles can pull her down. “It was good.” She finally says after kissing him.

He hums, “How good?”

She thinks, playfully humming as her fingers run through his hair. “Very good. I think your fans will want to kill me and so will Ferrari.”

He frowns, arms tightening around her. “Ferrari knows that you are allowed to do as you’d like. It is not like with,” He stops himself.

“I know, Charles.” She soothes. “But, they will be upset with me considering me talking about my sex life is talking about your sex life.”

He huffs, obviously not liking it, but he hopes that the podcast will do well, be received well, so at least Ferrari will be forced to accept it because fans like it.

“Did you mention me?”

Her eyebrow raises, “No. I want on a podcast to talk about my sex life so you obviously didn’t come up.”

He pouts at the tease and she can’t resist pressing a kiss to his pouty lips.

“Yes, I mentioned you. Multiple times and by name.”

He hums, moving his hands under her cardigan and top. “What did you say?”

“That we’ve done a lot of things together. That we like certain things.”

When she had accepted the invite it was only after a long talk with Charles, one she had to force, to go over what she could and couldn’t mention. Charles had been fine with her mentioning whatever she wanted. Uncaring that it would be out for the world to see, his colleagues, friends, and even family if for some reason they decided to click on it. He had stuck by that after their talk, though had asked her to keep most of the details of their roleplay and their love of rough sex to a minimum.

And it had been easy to not talk about what kind of roleplay they did and while rough sex had been mentioned twice, they were brief, just establishing her love of it.

“It did make me want to roleplay our favorite thing again.”

His eyes light up at her words.

It wasn’t often something they did, their favorite roleplay scenario, not when it required her to be in a certain headspace to really work, but she wants and craves it so much.

“You want to be my innocent little girl?” His voice has a bit of rasp, his fingers resting on her back, stretching out.

“Yes.” She breathes.

He leans forward, giving her a hungry kiss, his and her last chance to lose control, before pulling away. “Go get ready for me, bébé. I’ll find a place to have dinner.”

---

[shiftinghoesblog]

yapping about my drs ❕❕

okay so this was a request from one of my moots to do this so yeah!!

i have no clue where to start but i’ll talk about some of my desired realities that i shift to but probably mainly non group shift ones so personal ones 🫦

INFLUENCER

- this is one of my most recent drs i’ve been scripting and not gonna lie the main reason i’m shifting here is because of my man 🤭 he cosplays gojo... so you probably know as to why but besides the point, i was raised a nepo baby and younger sister to meghan thee stallion. i am a content creator, influencer (duh), fashion designer and i live with my s/o in the upper east side of new york🗽. i scripted that my first shift will be during christmas eve because who wouldn't wanna experience the city that never sleeps during the festive season and with your partner 😩 it’s gonna be the dream. i have a mad crazy friend group but i love them all because we’re so hot, cool and sexy. i did script that megan’s parents are still alive in my dr so let’s not worry about that. 💀 i dreamt about this dr a couple of times actually and about my s/o 😍, a couple of my friends. really looking forward to this dr.

OUTER BANKS

- i think i shifted here like twice or a couple of times but didn't realise it because i did mention to y’all about chilling with kiara and sarah, another time i did find myself surfing like literally just living the life through the waves and my ass thought it was a dream. looking back i doubt it was, in many instances to be honest. in this dr i am the sister to kiara and my s/o is pope 😌 i grew up a kook but i transitioned to a pogue when i joined the others. i’m the reason behind kiara and sarah making up and i’m close with rafe since kiara and sarah were best friends and probably would have sleepovers together. i scripted that cleo’s lesbian lmao 😭 you know why. i wiped the plot out a little and also made everyone graduate already so that school is out of the way when hunting for the gold.

AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER

yep, i have an atla dr yay! in this dr i’m the oldest sister to kiara and sokka. i’m a waterbending master and my s/o’s zuko??? enemies to lovers kinda vibe. definitely part of the gaang and i’m shifting here because atla is part of my childhood. i have the ability to also create ice and other powerful combat skills so i can't wait to experience this universe.

LEGENDS OF KORRA

i also have a lok dr because why not, i’m the little sister to korra the avatar but i’m gonna prove to everyone that i’m also capable to make a difference and i scripted that i can blood bend.. so ain't no one gonna touch me as well still being able to water bend. my s/o is bolin because he’s so underrated for real.

THE ORIGINALS

in this dr, i’m a hybrid so vampire and werewolf and an adopted mikealson. i live in new orleans and my parents are rebekah and marcel even though their not my bio parental figures because they are already dead 💀. also hopefully i can survive when dahlia comes in because i scripted that my first shift will be during season 2 😓 well shit wish me luck y’all. at least i’ll get to see baby hope aw.

FAME

i have a fame dr because i love attention 🥰 my main profession is being an actor and i’m known for my role in the vampire diaries. i also play robin in the one piece live action and act in many more projects, a nepo baby in this dr too because almost all my family members are well-known. my s/o is caleb mclaughlin? he plays lucas in stranger things and our characters in the show dated so that’s how our relationship sparked.

TWILIGHT

i love talking about drs so yeah i have a twilight dr where when i first shift, i’ll be human but i get turned by a villain in order to send the cullens (my friends) a warning like it’s “game on” so i’m gonna have to mentally prepare myself because i’m gonna basically die 😭 lmao. my s/o is jacob because i’m team jacob simple and it’s a slow burn 😀 woop woop.

SOME OTHER DRS

waiting room - i plan on permashifting here, chill, script, feel free, play with my cat, breath fresh air.

better cr - a better version of my cr and my s/o is jiung from p1harmony, i live with jenna ortega, i attend a boarding school in london, i also model.

wednesday - i’m the sister to bianca and my s/o is kent, i’m a siren and psychic medium.

fate: the winx saga - it’s so underrated i see no one shift here but it’s like the winx live action adaption on netflix, the only dr where i didn't script an s/o.

ateez - my s/o is san and i’m the only female and 9th member, main rapper, performer and maknae.

streamer - i go by lemonpie and my s/o is cory kenshin 😚.

victorious - grew up watching it and i’m andre’s sister.

soloist - i’m a k-pop soloist in this dr and my s/o is blackpink jisoo (yes I’m wlw) she’s so 😍😍😍.

singles inferno - this is a dating reality tv show but at the end of it i end up with wonho (ex. monsta x) i’m besties with song jia.

GROUP SHIFTS

not gonna lie they piss me off if they don’t put the damn effort

one piece (anime) - so far my most enjoyable one is the one piece (anime) shared dr because we talk almost everyday. anywho my s/o is sanji ahhh my vinsmoke baby! i’m the little sister to the asl brothers and my devil fruit is similar to aokoiji so ice ect. i am part of the straw hats and joined them during the alabasta arc.

kard - the k-pop co-ed group basically, me and the person barely talk so you see why i prefer my personals drs.. yeah. my s/o is enhypen’s jay 😍 and my positions are sub-rapper, sub-vocalist, producer and maknae. i’m always a maknae in k-pop group drs for some reason 😭.

the legacies - person dipped on me and didn't even fill any of their sections so! i’m poly with hope and josie, i’m a werewolf and witch.

harry potter - i’m the head girl of slytherin and my s/o’s draco, i scripted fred’s death out. also shifting to the half-blood prince era.

teen wolf - i’m a tribrid in this dr so i’m gonna be unstoppable!

the vampire diaries - a bennett witch, cousin to bonnie.

one piece (live action) - i’m a phoenix hybrid in this dr and also part of the straw hats, grew up around shanks.

private romantic - umm this dr ticks me off low-key because the person that i’m group shifting with ghosts me 😝 i didn't script an s/o for a reason i’m just gonna ditch them for jonathan daviss 💀💀💀 like imagine fumbling manon (I'm shifting as manon from katseye in this dr) i don’t want that person as my s/o anymore and like we’re “friends” here, miss me with that shit.

my hero academia - the group shift is dead bro no one is fucking talking in the group chat, one of them quit shifting, the other i was pfp matching with changed their damn pfp without telling me. script ain't finished too, they all called it a day. and y'all wonder why i don't wanna join no group shift no more.

this was lengthy but y’all asked to yap about my drs other than jujutsu kaisen which you already know about that dr and spill some tea so i did exactly that, i hope you enjoyed and this better not flop, i spent hours typing this 🥳.

@angelic-daiquiri

[hotshotsxyz]

this method acting (might pay our bills)

(1.1k) (gen) 8x02 coda with spoilers from the 8x03 teaser. it's still thursday on the west coast, so i'm counting this as a same day coda. anyway brad torrence is a menace and i'm setting up camp in his brain

Let it be known to all, Brad Torrence takes his craft very seriously. So seriously, in fact, that when he’s called to a real emergency, he answers that call without hesitation. After all, what better to inform his performance than real experience? Tonight, Brad is a firefighter; he doesn’t just play one on TV.

His fellow firefighter, Buck, doesn’t seem terribly enthused about his presence. He generally seems to have a worried air about him, though, so maybe it doesn’t have anything to do with him at all. There’s a certain degree of vanity required in his profession, but he isn’t entirely self-centered. Honestly, he’s just glad that Buck doesn’t seem to be starstruck. That would make this entire situation far more difficult.

“Try Athena,” Bobby commands, but before Brad can ask for her number, Buck’s already dialing. That’s fine, he supposes. There’s no time to waste.

Brad’s not actually completely sure who Athena is. Someone important, obviously, perhaps his lieutenant? His character on Hotshots is a bit of a lone wolf, but maybe there’s something else there to explore. He makes a mental note to ask the writers room about adding a new character in the back half of the season, a lieutenant for him to butt heads and then bond with. They could even make it a bit of a will-they-won’t-they. He’s sure they won’t mind a few rewrites.

The phone rings twice, then, to Brad’s surprise, the call connects.

“Buck? Where’s—”

“I’m right here, Athena,” Bobby interrupts. His tone is magnificent. Calm but firm, no doubt inspiring nothing but faith in the woman on the other end of the line, whoever she is to him.

“Oh, thank god, Bobby,” Athena says.

Her voice is a bit garbled. It wouldn’t make for good television, but some concessions must be made for reality, Brad supposes.

“I’m on a plane,” Athena continues. “It’s—it’s not looking great.”

“Athena, if there’s anyone who can land a plane it’s you,” Bobby says. There isn’t a modicum of doubt in his voice.

“If there’s anyone who can land a plane, it’s a pilot!” Athena protests. Brad wishes he brought a pen and paper. Her comedic timing is excellent.

“She’s got you there,” Brad says, leaning forward until his head is between Bobby and Buck.

The look Buck shoots him is just shy of murderous. He’d be a terrible actor, Brad thinks. It’s all about focus and purposeful expression, neither of which seem to be at the top of Buck’s priority list.

“Who the hell was that?” Athena asks.

“Brad Torrence,” he says smoothly, “but you can call me Brad.”

Buck’s expression shifts from murderous to incredulous. Again, terrible actor.

“Don’t worry about him,” Bobby says.

He inflects his words with the tiniest hint of irritation. It’s brilliant – how better to redirect the anxiety Athena must be feeling into something more manageable. Brad only hopes he’ll be able to meet her in person once this nasty business is over.

“I’ve got plenty to worry about. He doesn’t even make the top ten.”

Buck snorts. Rude.

“Tell me what’s going on,” Bobby says.

“Air traffic control is directing us to LAX, but—Bobby, I’m not sure we can make it that far. The hole in the fuselage is getting bigger and our airspeed is dropping fast.” Athena sounds scared, desperate. Caroline could learn a thing or two from her about emotional resonance.

“Did—did you say there’s a hole in the plane?” Buck asks. His voice has a certain gravely, intense timber that Brad supposes would do well in some genres. Action movies, maybe, but not the high budget kind.

“What do you need from me?” Bobby asks before she can answer the question.

“Do you got a runway in your back pocket?” Again, brilliant comedic timing. She has that perfectly acerbic wit that any good heroine needs to have.

Bobby thinks for a moment. “Can you make it to the 110?” he asks finally.

“That, I think I can do,” Athena replies.

“Buck,” Bobby says, only it sounds less like his name and more like a command.

“On it,” Buck says. He twists around in his seat and looks at Brad. “Give me your phone.”

“My—why do you need my phone?” Brad asks. “You’ve got one right there.”

“Come on, man, now,” Buck says, all bite with no room for argument.

“Fine, fine,” Brad says. He slides his phone from the pocket of his turnout pants and hands it to Buck, who doesn’t even thank him for it.

Instead, he turns back to the front and types out a quick text before dialing a number. The call connects almost instantly.

“Maddie,” he says, “I don’t have time to explain. I need you to shut down the 110, get as much traffic off it as possible. We need it completely clear from Sepulveda to Torrance.”

The woman on the other end of the line doesn’t reply directly. “All available units, we’re shutting down the 110. Create roadblocks south of Sepulveda and north of Torrance. All traffic must be cleared between those exits.”

“Thank you, Maddie, you’re the best,” Buck says when she’s done. So, some people do, in fact, get thanked when they do something helpful. It’s fine.

“Is it Athena?” Maddie asks.

“Yeah,” Buck says. “They can’t stay in the air much longer.”

“Alright,” Maddie says. “I’ll coordinate with the IC over there, get triage moved as fast as possible.”

“I’ll keep you in the loop,” Buck says.

The line goes dead, and Brad’s expecting to get his phone back, but Buck sends another text and dials another number. This time, it rings thrice before the call is answered.

“Buck,” a man says on the other end of the line. His voice is warm and honey smooth. Brad should ask his dialect coach about that.

“They’re not—Eddie, they’re not making it to LAX,” Buck says, rushed and a little less polished than he was for Maddie.

There’s a short pause, then the quality of the sound changes. “Where?” the man—Eddie—asks.

“The 110,” Buck says. “South of Torrance. We need you over here, fast as possible.”

It’s odd, hearing his name this many times when he’s not the subject of the conversation. If this was meant to be a TV scene, it’d be far too repetitive.  

“Pack it up, let’s go!” another voice calls. She must be a captain, if the authority she speaks with is anything to go off.

“We’re coming,” Eddie says.

Some of the tension in Buck’s shoulders seems to bleed away. Interesting. “See you soon,” he says.

He ends the call, and Brad turns his attention back to Bobby. After listening for a moment, he realizes that they’re now on a conference call, and Athena is speaking to someone who knows a great deal more about planes than he does.

Brad closes his eyes and leans back. They’ll be at the scene soon. It’s time to visualize. As long as he stays in character, nothing can go wrong.

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Lynette, Eula, and Lumine with an s/o whose love language is acts of service, and enjoys cooking/baking for them?

(Genshin Impact) Signs of Love for Lynette, Eula, Lumine, Arlecchino, Chiori, Lisa, Yae, Xianyun, Dehya, and Kokomi

WOE, EIGHT EXTRA WAIFUS UPON THEE

Lynette prefers this type of love over any kind of flowery words.

After all, with her true profession words mean very little.

How someone acts tells her everything she needs to know.

It especially show in the way S/O cooks their meals.

After coming home from a show, she sees S/O gently smile at her, with a bucket full of shellfish on the table, and a small plate of lemons near it.

She doesn't need to say anything, a small smile from her and her tail swishing faster than usual tells S/O how happy she is.

Having some true peace and quiet with the people she loves nearby is all she could ever want.

Eula is actually thankful S/O shows affection in a language she can understand: nonverbally.

With a simple hug, she can immediately tell how S/O is feeling with how tightly their arms are wrapped around her.

Eula chuckles, being behind closed doors allowing her more gentle side to come out.

(Eula) "Nice to see you too, S/O."

(S/O) "Dinner's already done, kept it warm for you."

(Eula) "How chivalrous of you."

She teased, before seeing a change of clothes already on the table for her.

This was something she could get used to.

With all the things Lumine gets up to, having someone just prepare dinner for her while she's away is enough to make her to cry.

With no other obligations than just to come home safe to someone she loves, Lumine completely relaxes around S/O.

(S/O) "Welcome back. Busy day?"

(Lumine) "You already know."

Lumine slumps down on the chair, letting out a dramatic sigh making both of them laugh.

(S/O) "Dinner should be ready in a second, and I got a bath running upstairs."

S/O heard her head lean back into the chair.

(Lumine) "I could kiss you right now."

(S/O) "Do it when you don't stink."

Lumine rolled her eyes, hearing S/O chuckle.

Arlecchino can easily smell the barbecue coming from the House of the Hearth, as well as the sound of children laughing.

And she knew S/O was in there, keeping them happy.

It was strange, admittedly.

To have someone who genuinely loved her, without knowing entirely what she was actually like.

And instead of showering her with useless words or gifts, S/O let their love show in how they treated her and her children.

It made her quite fond of S/O, and if they were already like this, then she knew she didn't have to say "I love you" to them every day.

(S/O) "Arle, care to join us?"

(Arlecchino) "Of course, have you made sure to make some for yourself?"

(S/O) "Mhm, just didn't want to dig in without you."

A smile finally grows on her lips as she sits down, S/O next to her.

(Arlecchino) "Apologies for keeping you waiting then, Shall we?"

Chiori's not gonna sugarcoat it: Instant kiss with both her hands behind S/O's head the moment she sees her tools already brought out in the order she likes.

She didn't need S/O to do that, but this was way better than some expensive gift she'll never use or wear.

In fact, S/O made damn sure to never buy her clothes, as that would be the ultimate insult.

Instead, it was everything that could help her, ranging from tailoring tools and new windows.

All with an admittedly very cute smile they wore just for her.

(Chiori) "Hm, you have me head over heels for you, S/O."

She said, with a relatively deadpan voice.

(S/O) "You can barely keep the affection in, dear."

Both of them quietly chuckle as they work on their jobs inside the store.

Other than making her name known across all of Tevyat, she doesn't think she could ask for anything more.

Lisa's eyes haze over with more love than she thought possible when she realizes that her tea is already on the table.

(Lisa) "Oh, you sure know how to make a woman's heart skip a beat, S/O!"

(S/O) "Well, I learned from the best, right?"

Lisa absolutely adores S/O's love language, seeing as she barely needed to lift a finger.

But that being said, she makes sure to return the favor. It isn't much of a relationship if only one side is putting in this much effort.

Both S/O and Lisa constantly do little things for each other, whether it be work or home related.

The real moment Lisa is ready to just drop down on one knee for marriage is when they already have a hot bath for her the moment she closes up the library.

Yae gladly takes the sake S/O has prepared for her on the table, making sure to pour them some as well.

(Yae) "Oh, where would I be without you?"

(S/O) "Hm, probably very bored. But still in the same place."

Yae simply chuckles at that, not even bothering to argue.

S/O was certainly interesting in her eyes, as they rarely needed to be told how they could help her out.

She honestly expected their love to be a bit more grandiose instead of something so plain.

And yet she could hardly find room to complain about it. Especially with all the fried tofu they cooked for her.

(Yae) "Remind me to get you something nice for today. Oh, how about a signature from our very own Miss Hina?"

(S/O) "I think I'd prefer my reward not paid with someone's tears, Miko."

(Yae) "Hm, your loss."

S/O already had Xianyun's heart at the good food, but everything else was a bonus that just kept on adding.

And what better way for One to repay S/O's love than eating every single morsel?

For all their efforts, Xianyun works to invent something special, only for S/O.

(Xianyun) "Hm..."

A single finger brushed the bottom of her chin, lips pursing as she struggled to think what machine they could use.

They already had her cooking tools, and while newer ones could be good, she felt the need to give them something even better.

(S/O) "Something on your mind, Xianyun?"

(Xianyun) "No, One's problem is that nothing is coming to it..."

She wanted to repay her affection in kind since this was her love language as well.

What about a machine that could allow them to fly with her?

...Actually, that'd probably be a bad idea....Or would it?

(Xianyun) sigh "If only you could fly, S/O..."

(S/O) "...?"

As a mercenary/bodyguard, actions always spoke louder than words to Dehya.

And she'd be damned if S/O didn't show how much they loved her.

Whether it be buying a nice makeup set for her or preparing an entire bag of Candied Ajilenakh Nuts, it never failed to make her cheeks heat up at least a little.

(Dehya) "Thanks, I'll be sure to use it later! Let me know if there's anything you want me to get you as well!"

She had many types of people try to win her love with trying to smoothtalk or bribe her.

But all S/O had to do was pay attention to the little things.

And seeing how they were trying hard to reinforce her makeup case, Dehya already knew her heart belonged to no one else.

(Dehya) "...Is that steel?"

(S/O) "Think that's too much?"

(Dehya) "Hah, just a little!"

It does not matter how tired Kokomi is, the moment she sees S/O tidying up her bed with a few books already by the nightstand.

Her energy skyrockets back up to full as if she got hit with a power boost.

(Kokomi) "S/O, thank you so much!"

She does feel a little bad for S/O to do so much for her when she's so busy.

But at the same time, it was hard to deny that being pampered like this was greatly relaxing for her.

So much responsibility was thrust upon her, it felt nice to have someone who had no expectations in return to do something just because they wanted to.

In her journal, the energy S/O gives her had at least four digits at any given time.

Of course, she makes sure that they don't ever see that, lest her energy drop to zero by making her want to bury her head inside a pillow.

[raven-cincaide]

 ‘Best Friend’ Kisses 

Summary: The three times you and Yuji kiss all happen during different stages of your lives, different times and have inherently different meanings, from the awkward ‘first kiss’ as middle schoolers to a surprise reunion smooch. Although, you don’t know what to make of the last one. 

Pairing: fem! Reader x (Best friend) Itadori Yuji Sweetober prompt 2: Best friends  WC: 2.4 KWarnings: Fluff, minors (innocent!) kissing, did I mention fluff?

To say that you and Yuji were close would be like saying ‘water is wet’ or ‘ice is cold’- it's something that everyone who had seen you grow up knew; you two were always in each other's lives- day in and day out you’d hang out together. If you were there, then Yuji would undoubtedly be somewhere close by. It was like you two were bound by an invisible force which told you where the other was. A force that always seemed to bring you two together. Your teachers would sometimes laugh that you were ‘held together by a red string of fate’ while your parents always reminded you two to get married at a respectable time and not forget to send them an invite to the wedding. 

Truth be told, it felt so perfect and surreal. Like your entire life plan was laid out perfectly in your lap: study together until college, get a degree, then you would work at a company for a few years to build up a resume and some cash before settling down somewhere on the outskirts of Tokyo. Maybe even in the more green village-like areas where you’d build your perfect future together. Yuji would be a P.E. teacher at some local high school, and you would be either an English teacher or a writer, depending on which profession took off first. You’d build a family together; Yuji wanted three kids at least. You wanted one, so you compromised on two and filled the last spot with a pet of his choice. 

Thus, the first time you two kissed was related to that grand life plan. The life plan that you two came up with during recess in middle school. Although it was a gorgeous day, nice and warm and perfect to be outside, both of you lazied about in the school library, sitting on the soft chairs in the very corner of the room commonly known as the ‘silent reading corner’, surrounded only by a handful of usual-ignored-older computers and heavy bookshelves. There was no one in the school's library besides the two of you and an old librarian checking in new books somewhere in the second room, well out of sight. The other kids were out kicking ball between each other or up to some other type of mischief, but you felt down and tired and settled for the more comfortable indoors. And expectedly and without question, Yuji joined you, sitting in the familiar seat beside you. 

“Let’s kiss on it!” The young pink-haired boy exclaimed as he spun another round on the well-used computer chair beside you. “You know, to seal the deal. As they do at weddings in front of the pastor, so it’s a deal for life.” 

You peer up at him from your spot, where half of you lay half sprawled out on the desk, head rested on top of your folded arms. “I think it’s the vow before the kiss that makes it, you know, ‘til death do us part’ thingy.” 

“Oh.. well, let's do it anyway; that way, we won’t forget it until we get married!” Yuji shifted closer; his lips widening into a wide grin as though he had just won a whole cake.  

“I swear you just want a kiss”, you mumbled, but don’t shove him away. You stayed perfectly still, just staring at him with huge eyes, as he leaned closer until you felt a tiny pressure on your lips, a shaky warmth that disappeared as quickly as it came. A second passed, and you two stared at each other in utter silence before you flew away, faces dark red, as you heard the librarian walk in to remind you to get back to class. 

You had to admit you don’t remember much of that kiss. 

But you do remember the sudden shyness that followed and how yours and Yuji’s cheeks would blossom into dark red blush whenever you looked at each other after that- a fact that made the other kids tease you the hell out of you two. 

It was an awkward kiss that, for a long time, made you worried you would lose Yuji. That he wouldn’t want to be friends with you because you were a bad kisser- and unknowingly to you, he felt the same. Thus, you two didn’t kiss more times in middle school. 

The second time you and Yuji kissed was during your first year of high school, right after summer break. The two of you sat, sprawled out in the shadows of the high school bleachers from one side and the overgrown bushes from the other—a perfect little obscured space for anyone who didn’t want to be seen. But still wanted to have a good view of the sports area with the bright green football field, an area for throwing balls, spears, high and low jumps and other activities you didn’t even know existed. 

The football tryouts had just finished, yet there were still a few hours left until the cheerleading tryouts started. Yuji had wanted to only show up to your tryouts. Still, an old classmate practically begged him to join for football tryouts as company, completely forgetting that since last semester Yuji hit puberty and not only shot up like a beam but also grew strength and muscle like a gorilla. Effectively impressing the P.E teacher who wanted nothing more than to sink his claws into your horror-loving, more-of-a-bookworm-than-sports-guy Yuji. 

So now you had no choice but to hide in the shadowy part of the field, sitting on Yuji’s sweatshirt in your bright blue cheerleader uniform, sipping on a milkshake and Yuji in his barely sweaty jeans and t-shirt, right beside you, chugging down a Gatorade. 

“How quickly do you wanna get married?” 

Your eyes flickered to Yuji as he peered at you through pink bangs. The second he caught your eye, though, he turned away, his face unmistakably red. His lips were still wrapped around the neck of the bottle. He was a mix of cool-casual as if he had just asked how long you had until class, but also so obviously fidgety and nervous that you found him totally cute. Absolutely adorable, and something else you refused to admit about your best friend. But there was also something else in his expression, and you quickly recognised the question for what it was: a distraction. Something to keep his mind occupied on anything other than his sick grandpa. 

‘So bad, huh?’ you wanted to comfort him in the only way he would accept- by answering his half-metaphorical question: “Hmm, maybe during or straight after Uni? I heard there are some perks with getting housing if you’re a young married couple,” You mused aloud, trying to keep the tears out of your voice. 

“We should kiss on that, You know, to seal the deal..” you paused mid-sip of your cherry-flavoured milkshake, sensing an air of nervousness settled between you. You bite your lips, a part of you were uncertain and nervous. You weren’t children anymore, and a kiss at your age would have all sorts of implications. 

But you could also see his need for a distraction, could see how tense his shoulders were and how desperately he gripped the Gatorade bottle. He was afraid, you realised, afraid to be completely alone once his grandpa passed. You still had your parents, but Yuji would have no one. He was afraid you’d leave him too. 

“I swear you just want a kiss” You could practically hear him sob in relief as he spun around to face you; the childhood reply from all these years ago brought him unimaginable relief.

This time it was not a shy and quick press of the lips- it was more desperate. He pressed his lips to yours firmly and moved them against yours as if he were trying to get closer or eat you alive. You weren’t sure.  Teenaged hormones raged- an unexplainable tension between you two as your lips and spit, and tongue met each other over and over again. 

This time, there was a lot more exploring now, tasting, feeling. 

The taste of Yuji and the puckishly sweet-synthetic taste of post-practice Gatorade cut through the sweet flavour of a cheery milkshake on your tongue. The warmth of his hands on your body, the feel of his chest under your hands. How much he had changed seemingly overnight from a soft and squishy boy into a brick of solid muscle hidden underneath hoodies and loose-fitted jeans. 

You gasped as he pushed you down into lying and broke the kiss to stare at him. His pupils were blown wide, almost manic. One leg was planted on the ground, the second was frozen in the air mid-saddling your waist, as if he had just realized what he was doing. His blush caught up with him, and he cleared his throat awkwardly, not sure what to do. “D-Do y-you wanna stop?” 

You heard the unmistakable whistle from the tryouts just meters away, and it was as if a dose of reality had finally broken through your haze. What were you two doing in broad daylight too? “Y-yeah, definitely not here” You don’t miss the disappointment on Yuji’s face as he scrambled off of you and helpd you up. 

Thinking back, you wondered if things would have been different if you hadn’t said ‘yes’ that time- if you hadn’t stopped and instead urged him on the way every fibre of your being screamed at you too. Would Yuji have stayed in your high school? Or would he have transferred out of there the very next day with no warning and no goodbye? Not even a chance for you to say your condolences to him, or mourn his grandfather's death, who was like your own grandfather? Or would it have ultimately not mattered? 

The third time you and Yuji kissed was days before the university started. It was sunny and warm as you waited near rebuilt Shinjuku station for your friends for a much-needed shopping spree. The university started almost two weeks later than your high school after the summer break and the day coincided with the last time you saw Yuji. Although there was still a feeling of anger, much of it was replaced by melancholy and a sense of betrayal. You wished Yuji would explain the simple ‘why’- you swore you would have understood. 

But he never did, and despite frequent texting, you always turned down his request to meet up.

You were bitter, not only for having lost your best friend but also because he ruined the plan. The perfectly perfect life plan you both had created in middle school came crashing down without warning, leaving you alone to pick up the pieces. You were still bitter about being left behind- replaced like a pair of gloves and so stubbornly angry that you didn’t even notice Yuji screaming your name until he was just a few feet away. 

You glanced up, and the next thing you knew, he was on you. His arms came to wrap around your waist, and he spun you around and around, your face buried in the crook of your neck like in all those post-war veteran coming-home pictures. You noticed he looked older, more worn out than his twenties, like he had been through hell and back again. “Y-yuji?!-” You didn’t even finish your sentence as his lips were suddenly on yours. A desperate plea and apology all poured into that one kiss. 

You froze. Your body grew rigid in his arms; you thought your love had cooled, and yet there were sparks between you- no, wait, there WERE actual blue sparks around you. You tore yourself away from his lips, ignoring his sulking pout, as you stared at the specks of blue around you in shock and awe.

“You can see that?” An unfamiliar voice spoke up, and you turned to face a dark-haired man standing beside a brown-haired woman. Between them was something that you could only describe as a black-and-white demon dog of sorts. It’s horrifying and cute all at once. Although its proportions feel all wrong, there was something like a third eye in the middle of its forehead surrounded by a red mark in its forehead that didn’t look like a mere paint job.

 “And you see him?” the woman asks, pointing a long finger at the animal.

You nodded slowly, your gaze flickered between the reminisce of blue specks and the puppy, and then you returned to the unfamiliar duo. 

“Then it’s all good, right? Fushiguro? Kugisaki? We call tell her, right?” Yuji exclaimed, his voice an obnoxiously loud cheer that only piped down once you pressed your hands against his shoulders in a silent demand to be set back down on the ground. 

Instantly Yuji’s eyes, puppy dog expression and disappointed pout stared up at you. You didn’t smile or laugh back at him, in fact, you didn’t even know whether you wanted to know whatever that ‘all’ was. You just felt uneasy and awkward in your best friend's embrace after two years of absence, or maybe it was the way he looked much older than when you last saw him, like he had been to hell and back several times over? He didn’t look your age- he looked almost a decade older. Or was it something else that brought an unmistakable bad feeling in the pit of your stomach. Like you wanted to get the fuck away from there before you were dragged into something you didn’t want to be a part of. 

“Oy why is it so important for you to make her a sorcerer anyway?” the woman crossed her arms over her chest, seizing you and your still stunned expression, up and down as if judging your entire worth in that mili-second. 

“Because she’s my best friend of course!” Yuji exclaimed, throwing his arm around your shoulders to keep you from collapsing from the onslaught of emotion you felt at that moment. 

From anger and betrayal to curiosity and the unmistakable fear as the dio inched closer to you while Yuji kept you still in one place. But most importantly, the unmistakable pang of pain that came with being called ‘his best friend’. It reminded you once again that a kiss for Yuji was just a way to greet someone, like a personalised handshake or a first bump. It meant nothing, and you were a total fool to become so affected by it. To still hope against hope that your life plan could be salvaged. It was foolish because you were the only one to feel that way, 

Or so you thought.  

Author note: This is a republish of the fic from like 3 days ago, but still I just thought it could be a pre-university Yuji fic, or maybe a hdc . What do you think?

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[alrtyhoney]

TAKING WHAT’S NOT YOURS 

(I watch her go with a surge of that well known sadness and I have to sit down for a while– the feeling that I'm losing her forever.)

The rundown: That cake scene with Miles at his father’s bodega party but it’s with Miguel and his universe’s daughter. He’s late and it’s your quinceañera. Content: Father!Miguel O'hara x Daughter!Reader / Angst! (wc: 3844)

There was something oddly peculiar about your father. People would assume that he would be the archetypal absent one who chose to abandon his child; the dead-beat-dad who ultimately never cared for them. You’d argue it wasn’t true– you were fed, you had the weight of what a fifteen year old should have, and education was proper. 

You love your papa with all of your heart, but there was no denying the fact that he would never be around often enough. You understood this when you were eight years old, and mornings would bring only a cold breakfast accompanied by a hastily scribbled note from him. He’d leave early– far too early. You tried staying up in an attempt to tell when he gets up and leaves the house, but you swear you don’t hear the door open every time. 

Then came twelve and the missed events. Miguel seemed to be missing in action when it came to certain school activities, not showing up for things that he had previously made commitments for. It became more and more frequent as you grew older– you wouldn’t hear from him for days.

He was a man dedicated to his profession, and although you felt pride in what he had achieved, there was this empty space in your heart that hadn’t been filled ever since you were eight. It was said that a child needed the presence of their parents to feel security– to feel important. You never truly understood it, not until you had to endure many nights at dinner alone and the numerous times you spent walking home with nothing but your own thoughts for company.

You had always pondered over the question of whether it was a common phenomenon that fathers seemed to love their daughters less once they had reached teenagehood– or if it was possible for fathers to unlearn being fathers. 

“Is your papa coming, bebita?” 

The faint notes of classical music filled the air as you sat on the wooden floor, stretching your sore limbs. You observed the ladies who were much older than yourself starting their exercise routines, having come in early before the group class began. You waited for Miguel to pick you up. 

– But that had been two hours ago. Your teacher finally worked up the courage to approach you, hesitantly looking for the right words to say. She wasn’t exactly pleased to be the one to let you down, but she’d seen you walk out the studio’s door alone time and time again after you told her that your father would bring you home himself.

“He said he’d come pick me up today.” You spoke, nervously twisting the ends of your skirt. Your teacher had most likely heard these words countless times before from you, but the faint ray of hope in your voice remained firm. “He promised.” You added quietly, praying that maybe it would be different this time. 

“Ay, bebita– you know how this ends. You tell me those exact words and you walk out here on your own anyway.” She slightly shook her head, her face softening with a sympathetic smile as she knelt closer to you. “Tell you what, how about I offer to give you a ride home today? I have plenty of snacks in my car that you can enjoy. You can take as many of them as you'd like.”

You took some time to consider it, letting her gently weave her fingers through the strands of curls that couldn't quite fit into a bun. Your lips pursued as you sighed softly, “What if he comes and I’m not here anymore?” You’d hate to miss the opportunity.

Of course you still had faith that he would come, having endured all the other times he had let you down. You were never one to quickly give up on people and your father was the only one you trusted the most— you’d hate to admit that his inconsistency was starting to hurt; digging a deeper wound to the already bleeding cut. 

“He’s not coming and I know you know that too.” 

She stands up, grunting slightly as she hefts herself up. You knew there was no more room for negotiation anymore when she urged you to come along. She carefully takes your backpack from off your back and drapes it over her own shoulders, “Come on sweetheart, let's get you home.” 

The silence in the car was palpable, with no one feeling the need to prod conversation. You hadn't stopped fidgeting with the hem of your bag since you got in, and you could feel your teacher's worried glances burning into you. Your mind was a jumble of emotions that kept bubbling away as they all competed for your attention. What could be his reason this time/?

She switched on the radio in an effort to lighten the tense mood, but when a melancholic tune filled played instead, you couldn’t help but let out a deep sigh.

“Is it possible for fathers to unlove their daughters?” 

It was a question that took her completely by surprise, so much so that another uncomfortable beat of silence passed before she could respond. The stillness made you regret asking in the first place. Your legs shifted nervously, an unconscious habit which you had never noticed before.

“Of course not,” She muttered, almost inaudibly. “Fathers tend to forget is all.”

But you knew that wasn’t the case. 

While Miguel was never home, something else resided on the corners of your house– someone you have never met at all. She smiled back at you from the frame sitting atop your dad's nightstand, wearing the similar blue soccer jersey your school had. She was the picture on his wallet and the little widget on his phone. It was beyond you– the few blue ribbons hidden on the box beneath his bed; the medals, the drawings you know you’ve never drawn or given him. For all you know, the kid didn’t even go to your school. 

It wasn’t anything sinister, but in a way she felt like a ghost. A child your father mourned for all his life and you had no idea why. 

This was a physical pain in your chest; one that was peeling away the very layers of your heart until it was nothing but ugly– just how could Miguel love a child more than his own? It was ridiculous to feel like you were in competition with someone you barely knew, yet somehow, you felt like you were losing. It felt even more absurd when you considered the possibility that maybe you weren't really his child at all.

“I joined our school’s soccer team today, papa.” 

It wasn’t an ordinary occurrence for Miguel to be at the dining table for lunch. But on this Saturday noon, he was there. Sitting across from you, quietly eating his food. Finally, he paused and shifted his gaze towards you, seeming to linger on you longer than normal before looking away, cracking a grin.

“Soccer? You hate sports, mija.” He says, a bit of laughter in his voice. "What made you decide to try out? I don't recall you being the least bit interested before."

Something in his eyes becomes brighter, a sense of familiarity as he eagerly awaits your response– and the thing is, you couldn’t tell him why. Not without addressing the elephant in the room. Maybe you’d hang my medals too? Maybe you’d frame a photo of me? You know well your question reminds him of someone else. 

“No reason.” 

It was no surprise that you were terrible at it. After barely two seasons, you'd already given up. However it was surprising to see Miguel in the stands during the times that you had a game, but there wasn’t much to watch anyway— not when you’d been relegated to the bench for most of the time. All you felt was shame. 

Oddly enough, he didn't question it. He remained silent during the rides back home, his gaze distant and never once looked at you. Had you embarrassed him to an extent where he couldn’t even acknowledge you? Or have you given him the impression that you were just no better than the little girl in his pictures?

You dared not to talk about it too.

Music was your passion; the pulse, the poise and elegance of it all resonating with you deeply. Ballet was something that spoke to you particularly in ways no other art form could. You found a special joy out on stage, a feeling that grew deeper and greater each time you danced.

But like every flame that you desperately try to keep alive, Miguel had a way of snuffing it out. 

You remember it all so vividly, even though you'd much rather the memory be nothing more than a faint blur. Your very first recital and yet he wasn't anywhere to be found amongst the audience.

Your focus was a tunnel-vision, only set to finding even a glimpse of him— you had been so determined to find him that you forgot about all of your own movements. Soon, the few wrong turns had turned to missed cues; as soon as the music stopped, you made a run for it.

Your teacher had done her best to console you that day, attempting to coax a smile from you in front of the vanity mirror with its bright lights. She had wrapped her arms around you, doing anything she could to draw even the faintest curve of your lips. But you stayed slumped on your seat, feeling the weight of the unshed tears on your eyes. 

The door swung open, finally revealing Miguel; he was out of breath and sweat glistened on his forehead. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top and his tie was undone, a clear sign that he had run all the way here. He paused for a moment to catch his breath before walking in frantically, eyes looking for you. 

His eyes softened at the sight of you in your pretty pink tutu– then the tenderness was replaced with a feeling akin to plummeting one hundred stories down. How could he miss this? How could he let his sweet girl wait? He rushed to your side, sinking down into a kneeling position. He looked upon you with lines creasing his forehead and you already knew what was to come out of his lips.

“I’m sorry muneca, I came as fast as I could.” 

The other parents of your classmates started to barge inside the very room, their children giddy with joy and excitement, running to them with beaming smiles. You could hear their loud congratulations– voices singing sweet praises and telling how they looked outstanding on stage. The noise sounded like static in your ears, like their words were unfamiliar to you. They received bouquets of flowers, sweets– gifts for a job well done. Miguel came late and only with apologies. 

“You want pretty flowers too, mijita? We can stop by the flower shop a few blocks away from here, you can pick any bouquet you want.” His lips curved into a gentle smile, desperate to make his daughter feel better– the same daughter who wouldn't even meet his gaze. “Papa had to deal with something. I’ll be sure to go to your next recital– pinky promise.” 

“But I worked really hard for this.”

You wanted so desperately to blame him; to yell at him for every mistake that you've made on the stage. You felt ashamed, humiliated, and helpless all at once- and still, you couldn’t have the heart to be mad at him.

He looked at you apologetically, "Baby, I'm sorry I couldn't make it earlier. How about we talk about the flowers you want to buy instead? There are lots of restaurants nearby as well— you can pick whatever pleases you, just name it." He paused for a moment before continuing, gently nudging your shoulder. “I know how much this meant to you.”

If he did, why couldn’t he have come at all?

You let out a deep sigh, feeling completely ridiculous in your tutu. All of the sudden, the leotard appeared to be two sizes too small and utterly irritating; your tights seemed unbearably itchy. You looked down helplessly, wanting nothing more than to leave this situation behind. “I just want to go home. Can we just leave? Please?” You pleaded softly. 

He bit the inside of his cheek, a gesture that conveyed own sinking heart in a way words could not. His shoulders sagged ever so slightly, breath hitching as he gave in to your request instead. 

“Of course.” 

After that very moment, you'd vowed to yourself never to wait in anticipation of something that may or may not come. You wouldn’t put your faith in any more of your father's promises spoken under the dead of night. It took a toll on you– your naivety had taught you better than before.

But when your fifteenth birthday drew near, you never expected he would go so far.

The locks clicked and whirred as Miguel fumbled with the keys to the front door. You could hear your Father's voice, clearly agitated as he jostled the keys back and forth in an attempt to fit them into the lock. Finally, he steps inside, eyes immediately darting to you.

“You’re not wearing your birthday dress, sweetie. Is something wrong?” He’s wearing a smile, struggling to keep the two boxes of cake upright as he locks the door from behind. The banner is lopsided and the balloons scattered all around seem small– like they’ve been there for days and were starting to deflate themselves. He kisses the top of your head once he gets close, getting a better view of what you were working on on the counter. Homework. “Did you have your friends over today? How was it? Wanna hear all about it.”

And he must have forgotten. You decided to pretend not to hear his question, continuing to jot down notes, only humming at his presence. He settles the boxes down, sitting on the stool beside you. 

“I know papa’s late, but you can still go and wear your dress. I want to take pictures– should we order pizza? Do you want something else?” He’s rambling, hurriedly searching for his tone to dial down a few numbers. Miguel turns frantic, looking at the closed signs under every nice restaurant. “Pizza should be fine, mijita– you’ve eaten dinner, right?” 

“Not hungry.” 

Miguel chuckled, dialing anyway. “Did school suck today, sweetie?” He jokes, trying to lighten the mood. “You know what can cheer you up? Cake. You love cake.”

“I don’t like cake anymore.” You say, your voice barely above a whisper. You can feel frustration boiling over inside– and you fear it wasn’t the kind you’ve grown accustomed to suppressing. He was oblivious and it was killing you, hurting you in so many ways possible. “I’m not hungry.” You repeat again.

“Don’t be like that, __. Besides, it’s still tradition.” He stands up to check the drawers, only finding worn out candles from past birthdays. He takes a lighter. “Know what’s better than a cake? Two cakes! You’ll change your mind, go and open the boxes mija,”

Miguel excitedly pressed his hands on your shoulders, pushing you gently forward to open the two boxes of cake. The look in his eyes was that of pure anticipation as he waited eagerly for you to do so. It almost hurt you to tell him the news— that you wanted more than to just take the blame itself. It was conflicting. 

You finally got up from the bar stool, settling on your feet in front of the counter. Taking a deep breath, you carefully opened the lid of the boxes. What greeted you had made you visibly recoil– the small flicker of hope that settled in your chest gone as quickly as it came. The cakes were crumbled and the frosting was all over the box, like it had been trampled and tossed around.

Was this all a joke? Were you a joke to him? Your shoulders trembled as you couldn't bring yourself to look away from it; the letter was still visible but amongst the cake crumbs lay written a name– Gabriella. Not happy birthday to you, but Gabi. 

You didn’t know what hurt most. Your lips quivered and all you could mutter was, “Gabi?”

His eyes widened in surprise as he quickly moved to your side to take a look at the cake himself. He swiftly closed the lids, shaking his head. “Must’ve been a mistake back at the bakery. I can–” 

And you could barely catch your breath, not when the hurt piled over one another. 

“Are the medals from her? The one’s from your bed? The trophies?” 

He furrowed his eyebrows, clearly irritated. “What did I tell you about snooping around my things, __?”

“Is this the girl–” A ragged inhale cuts your thoughts, “on your nightstand and wallet?” You didn’t even realize you had started to cry, but when another breath had caught itself in your throat, you were inconsolable– finally letting the dam break all at once.

Miguel did nothing to console you– he didn’t know how to. He knew he had messed up royally and all he could do was helplessly watch you break down. Who knows how long you’ve kept this? 

“__, come on. It’s just a simple mistake, it’s still cake–”

“And it was my birthday!” 

“Baby, what’s the big deal?” He was shocked and understandably so. His sweet, babygirl, who was usually so quiet and docile, was talking back angrily to him– but Miguel knew better than to point fingers. This was his fault– your unbecoming was his own doing.

“You just had to be late– on my birthday!” 

“I have work, baby, you know this.” 

“That still doesn’t explain anything!” You cried out, desperation flooding your voice. “Why are you never home? Where do you go? Who is Gabriella– why do you love her more than me?” You could feel your breath catch in your throat as your voice rose and trembled with every question. Your breathing grew unsteady and your throat began to close up, not allowing anymore words to come out as much as you wanted to scream. You feared there’d be no more room for air.

And there was something about Gabriella that everytime she was brought up, Miguel would be defensive. Perhaps it was the plenty of times Lyla would reprimand him when she catches him watching the few videos of them or when Jess would pity his state. “Don’t be ridiculous, __. I made a mistake– that’s it. We don’t have to fight.” He says, grabbing a spatula. “If it bothers you so much, here,”

Miguel frustratedly spreads the lettering with the spatula, leaving smudges of red on top of perfectly white frosting, resulting in a more muddled mess. He's making a complete mess of it and you can't bear to watch any longer. Your still figure finally reaches out to grab his wrist, “Stop— stop that! What are you doing?!”  

It was no use. The cake was nothing but totally ruined now. You didn’t even have the chance to read the message. He forcefully digs the candles on both, sliding it in front of you. Your eyes stayed on the cake– you didn’t have the heart to look at him. Anger boiled up within you and without a moment's hesitation, the words leaped from your mouth, "You're not listening to me! This is not what I'm so upset about—!"

But he responds in the same loudness as yours, slamming his hands down on the cold tiles of your countertop. “Okay, champ, you got it– go for it! Say what you have to say,” A sarcastic chuckle left his lips, adding insult to the already deep wound. “What do you have to tell me so bad?”

And you didn’t think it was possible for silence to be more deafening, but as you stared each other down, all you could think of was how maybe Miguel was worse than the archetypal absent one who chose to abandon his child or the dead-beat-dad who ultimately never cared for them. 

You were right. Fathers were capable of unloving their daughters and the way his dark eyes burned into yours was all the answer you needed. This wasn’t your papa– did you ever know him?

“My birthday was two days ago.” 

He furrowed his eyebrows, doubt creasing his forehead as he looked back to the calendar hung on the fridge. His gaze resting on your birthday date, the red circle mocking him in vivid reminder— two days ago. Your birthday was two days ago. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks, and he felt nothing but guilt tying his stomach in knots. 

“Mijita–” He’s quick to console you, the anger in his words disappearing immediately and turning into an apologetic one– but every time he’d try to move forward, you’d only step back. Miguel couldn’t even bear to think how you’ve celebrated on your own. How you waited for him all night in your birthday dress. He subtly shook his head, trying his best not to clog his mind yet. 

He needed to make it up to you. He couldn’t lose you too.

“My birthday– why did you have to take it?” You rubbed your eyes harshly, but the more you wiped the tears away, the more they seemed to fall. “It’s mine and I still had to wait for you to be able to sing the song. It’s my day and all I could think of was what time you might come home tonight.”

You wanted nothing more than for him to run to you with open arms, to let you cry on his shoulders– but as his silence stretched on, you mistook it as nothing but ruthless. He simply didn’t care. Miguel was too much of a wall for that. 

The look you gave him was nothing but hate– a look no parent wants to ever come across and it almost makes him stagger back. It was like what he had done was the most disgusting– most inconsolable act ever beyond repair and all he could do was watch; watch as another daughter of his slip through his fingers. He’s holding you like water and he doesn’t know how to keep you in.

You scoffed, averting your gaze. “You don’t want to talk about it? Fine by me.” You turned your back, letting out another shaky exhale. You couldn’t look at him the same– not after this.

“You make it really, really, hard to feel like a daughter.” 

And with that, you run to your room, leaving Miguel to stay rooted to where he stood. He thinks to himself– had he taken that from you too?

[cloveroctobers]

I CAME HOME LATE — Terry Richmond [September Prompts] 🩶

A/N: listen…I’ve been wanted to write for this man since he was Mid-sized Sedan 😆 but he definitely wasn’t being talked about enough then. This isn’t anything big but I’m here to feed the tag a little with this thing so I hope you enjoy it!

PROMPT IS FROM HERE & I’m using: ²¹⁾ steaming cups of sake + ²²⁾ an airport terminal at midnight.

WARNINGS: language and some angst?

<- check out my previous anthology prompt here.

☾˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚☕︎ ☾˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚☕︎ ☾˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚☕︎ ☾˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚☕︎ ☾˚ ༘

Being a night owl wasn’t foreign for you.

You were born when the twilight hit the evening sky and your mother always had a hard time getting you down for the night as a baby. For as long as Terry’s known you—since high school—it was no surprise to learn that night shifts were where you thrived best.

He’s at the airport terminal, not knowing your schedule but taking the risk to show up where you worked. He had the urge to be near you again once it was set in motion that he was selling his food truck to head east to start over with his cousin, Mike. Terry had no issue adjusting to change as long as it has substance in the end. He couldn’t leave without seeing you and although it’s been a minute since you both spoke, he didn’t take it personally.

You were his ex-wife after all but that didn’t mean that the utmost respect for you vanished. Ever. Terry made himself comfortable in the crisp cool of the quiet pale blue airport, sticking to the front of the large building but couldn’t help his eyes searching the area every so often for you. He had a feeling that you would be coming around sooner than later and exactly at 12:03am, he spots you being led to the revolving doors with a man who was dressed in security attire.

Your light laughter is almost childlike, a little raspy and airy as the both of you squeeze each other’s shoulders lightly in farewell for the night before you turn to face Terry’s direction.

“Terry,” your voice is hushed with a hint of croaking in it, which is unusual since you were normally upbeat once the moon shined but from the sound of it, the day at the airport must have been a long one.

Terry says your name with a dip of his head, eye contact always on lock, which you held before slowly closing your eyes, not knowing what to expect of this appearance.

“Everything good?” The security guard asks based on your reaction and you raise a hand up with a nod of your head, informing him that it was.

Terry briefly stared at the security guard underneath his lashes, who must have been a good friend of yours—not that good if he was letting you walk out into the night to your car on your own—sure you could handle yourself if it ever came down to it but it was the right thing to do.

“Y’all take care.” The security guard states as he realizes that Terry is no danger to you.

Terry gives a crooked smile, “you as well, man.”

You step to him, fixing the strap to your backpack on your left shoulder—your better shoulder that didn’t suffer from a extreme tear that took two surgeries to fix—, “what’s happening?”

“Hm…I thought it was a nice night so I took a ride.” Terry smirks at you while you roll your eyes and begin walking towards the automatic doors.

Throwing your head back as you stood on the sidewalk you glance at Terry and begin to walk backwards, “A nice night to throw my mind for a loop? You never did have good timing.”

He would have thought that was a jab, considering that the papers he sent your way two weeks before he got honorable discharge arrived in your shared mailbox the same day your elderly dog died. It’s not like the papers were a shock, it’s been discussed over many video chats but like you said, Terry Richmond didn’t have the best timing when it came to certain things.

He was a marine after all so timing kind of came with the profession…perhaps if you were looking for something to blame it would be that.

“Now we both know that isn’t a hundred percent true,” Terry lightly points, head downwards and a sly smile playing on the corner of his lips, “is it a crime to come see my favorite girl?”

Letting out an exaggerated yawn, you give him an expressionless face afterwards before spinning back around to head to the parking lot, with Terry following you into the foggy low sixty degree night. He’s holding the car door open for you after you unlocked it with your clicker and you’re shoving your things into the passenger side before taking a seat in the driver’s side.

You peer up at him, “Did you need something?”

“Yeah,” Terry starts, “come with me to Liu’s…just to talk.”

Raising your brows you say, “Why now?”

“He hasn’t said anything to you?” Terry questions.

Lifting your once slumped shoulders, you stare back at Terry and he’s never known you to be a liar.

“Should he have?” You press, “He’s never gotten into our shit before so why would he? If you wanted your business told, you should have said something to Ken.”

Terry snorts at the mention of Mr. Liu’s nephew.

He was a good guy but he was crap at secrets and excellent at taking direction.

“You’re not wrong,” The man with the goatee inhales, “look I won’t hold you…yet I’m leaving in the morning and i don’t know when I’ll be back. I just thought I should come by.”

He thought of you in the moment and there’s neber been a day where you didn’t think about Terry, all bright eyed and imagining the what if’s. The divorce had to happen, it was the right decision but that didn’t mean you didn’t miss him.

Terry gave you the space you needed, he couldn’t keep coming around as if the whole trajectory of your relationship wasn’t altered. It never got disrespectful however you were very vocal once you returned home from work, finding every trace of him erased from the home except for pictures. A conversation was eventually had over dinner, a passionate night was shared and just like that he was gone in the morning. You feared that you would run into him in town often, since Mr. Liu’s was pretty popular and Terry’s truck was more lowkey and out the way with a good amount of locals— just how he preferred it.

You did the best staying away from that side of town for a while before you realized how silly you were being. Life didn’t have to stop because Terry was no longer in it. That was your choice. You were never the type of person to be so dependent on anybody before.

So you thought.

Being surrounded by family constantly…you never had to feel alone. Terry was the opposite, an only child raised by a single mother who was a pediatric nurse and worked nights. He found a bonus home with your family and became part of it, no questions asked.

“You’re leaving?” You quiz, “for how long?”

Terry can see you visibly flinch after the words slipped through your lips. You were trying to put up a shield or maybe even a boundary for not caring as much. Like a concerned wife should. Just like he said before, just because you’re no longer romantically involved didn’t mean he didn’t value your friendship.

“Don’t know. Heading out to Shelby Springs for Mike and a fresh start.” Terry states and it’s not like you can feel a way about that.

Inhaling air through your teeth you say, “that bama ass place?”

Terry tells, “I know. It’s a in and out type of thing. Getting a pick up and starting a business from as far as we can get from there.”

You don’t say anything but the look on your face says enough.

“…Don’t worry.” He starts.

Scoffing you reply, “who’s worried?”

“That pretty little face is.” Terry even pokes your cheek with his free hand that’s not holding the door open but you slap his hand away, leaving him smiling softly, “so…are you coming with me?”

“To Shelby springs? Hell no!” You jest with a wink, “I can go for a vegetable spring roll though.”

There’s amusement in Terry’s eyes as he nods, “that’s it?”

“I don’t like to eat heavy at night, remember?” You defend.

A hearty breakfast was always more your speed.

“Yin and Yang,” Terry smiles at a memory you don’t push for him to share because you’ve probably thought about it plenty times before whenever you had breakfast alone, “You’ll lead?”

“Course.” You give a small smile and Terry makes sure you’re all the way in before shutting the door behind you.

He follows behind you on his bike and the airport is a good distance from downtown. It’s not long before you’re trying to pull over but Terry just zooms past you, grinning back at you over his shoulder while you’re shaking your head in disbelief behind the wheel.

This was a challenge for Terry, a norm to not only test himself but you and you never backed down from a competition.

Letting out a low-whistle you comment, “Moving like that and you’re traveling to Shelby in the morning?” You say as you walk up to the doors where Terry is waiting, “you might be taking a long nap instead.”

The both of you were hardly sleepers, you with your hint of OCD and mind racing always finding something to do and Terry was always on military time even before he went into the field. He was the earliest riser and believed in that old saying, “the early bird catches the worm.” Your rest time together involved pillow talk, just breathing the same air either facing each other or you being the little spoon, and of course there were times where you both didn’t mind helping the other go to sleep.

After locking up his bike, he shifts the keys around on the ring to unlock the restaurant holding the door open, “Nah, I’ve got the best stamina in the world.”

Spinning to face Terry after he locks the door behind you two, you’re pushing your lips out with a tilt of your head once his eyes settle back on you. It’s a teasing smile and he’s leans towards you on his way by, “get your head outta the gutter.”

Laughing in between the stools, you turn to rest your elbows on the counter which Terry is behind now. He asks, “You down for some of Ken’s sake?”

“Ah…now I see.” You sigh dramatically, “you brought me here to get me drunk.”

Terry laughs, “no. I just remembered that you enjoyed it a lot back in Japan and Ken’s been experimenting thanks to his dad’s recipe all while offending Mr. Liu.”

Where you got married.

“I can’t even tell you the last time—fuck it! It’s your going away night and you should be honored that I’m here so why not?”

“How did this turn into praising yourself?” Terry jokes as he gets ready to prepare the warm beverage.

You grumble, “Somebody besides myself needs to.”

Terry flicks his spring green hues to you, “so you’re not seeing anyone?”

“It’s not the security guard.”

Terry frowns, “funny how I didn’t even mention him.”

Wagging your finger at him you respond, “I saw the way you were analyzing my friend with that high opacity setting that you call eyes.”

He pauses and snickers, “oh yeah? And what did they say?”

“You tried to give him the benefit of the doubt because that’s just how you are but…you were curious about us.”

“That was a thing then?” He quirks up a brow while you press your cheek into your fist.

“Nope!” You answer as you move to sit up on one of the chairs, “That gorgeous chocolate man is happily taken with four kids, with three of them being triplets.”

“Damn!”

“Terry.”

He laughs and then shrugs, “what? I’m only kidding…kids are blessings.”

You hummed as you watched him work for a while before he’s placing steaming sake in front of you.

“What should we toast to?” You ask, pinching at the glass before finding a safe spot of the cup to hold up, “Goodbye’s?”

Terry immediately furrows his brows, “come on now…you know that’s what I’m actually not good at. Look at this as more of an…until next time.”

Clinking your cup against his as a response, you both slowly sip at the hot sake and its sweetness is felt with its warmth. “Not bad, Ken. Not bad.”

You both share a laugh, letting the silence hit while the sake cools off some. The silence doesn’t last long before you’re both poking fun at each other and falling into more conversation. It flows even when it gets tense, blood burning as your feelings come to the surface with Terry listening to you intently and speaks to you calmly.

“When I brought up divorce the first time it was never to be manipulative…it was to save us both the heartache of this ongoing distance.”

You open your mouth to interupt but Terry stared at you from underneath your eyelashes, which makes you deeply sigh, “We grew apart but we tried. You know it and I know it. No matter how long you would have held me down it happened and I felt like you deserved better than that. I thought you felt the same way when you agreed and signed.”

It’s not like you signed right away! You actually took your sweet ass time, even when he pulled what he pulled.

“I mainly signed because you pissed me off, sneaking through the house to get your things like a thief in the night while I was at work. I should ask how you managed to do it all but then I remembered who you are.” You exhale, “I’ve got to get some hobbies besides working myself to the bone and constantly thinking about you. I should be over this already. It’s been months.”

“We did put in a solid five years of marriage though.”

Dated since senior year just for him to go off to the military three years later. The love and the effort was there but you been around a lot of military significant others at group meetings and their stories were much worse. So you tried to be thankful of the time shared but that didn’t mean you didn’t have your own sorrow too.

‘It’s not something you can just get over.’ Terry thinks.

“That we did.”

And it’s back to the eye game again and it makes your stomach feel like flipped flapjacks.

You can’t stand Terry Richmond.

He intertwined your fingers once you’re both outside. This was happening, he was leaving again and you chose to be numb about it on the outside but slightly achy on the inside. It was weird really, how you could both live in the same town and never run into each other but it still felt comforting to know that you were both out there carrying on—even if it wasn’t beside one another.

You wish he would hold you instead of your hand but Terry didn’t want to cross that line. Not when you revealed that your heart wasn’t really in it to sign the papers in the first place.

Squeezing his rough hand back before letting go, you’re aware that he’s crashing at the restaurant tonight so it’s closer in the direction he’ll be heading in the morning. Yet there’s still a part of you that wishes he would come home.

It’s early when your eyes peel open to focus on your block out curtains. They were the best investment you made (from a cousin you didn’t like—but no one can say you were never supportive) since it’s always sunny in this town and the only time you preferred light was in your kitchen and living room but you still have a feeling that it’s early morning. You sit up in bed, ears searching for any sound in your bungalow.

Your feet are sliding into your slippers, knuckles rubbing into your eyes as you peek at the clock on the nightstand to see it’s another 5am. As you’re handling your business in the bathroom across the hall from your bedroom, you can’t help that pull in your gut that brings you to the front of your home.

Flicking on the lights, you yelp at the sight of Terry sitting in the dark of the living room staring off in space.

It’s been days since you last saw him.

You pushed him to the back of your mind like you trained yourself to do. Putting your attention elsewhere and even picked up a hobby to keep yourself preoccupied besides just those long double shifts at the airport.

Now he was back and something shifted within him again that didn’t sit well to you. You carefully took a step towards him and his eyes followed you but much slower this time.

“Terry,” breathe his name, “…what’s wrong?”

He simply flips the palm of his hand over that’s resting on his knee and you reach out to place yours right in his while you move to sit next to him. Terry squeezes your hand like his life depends on it and it makes your heart rate spike, it doesn’t hurt—he’d never purposely do so—but it’s strong enough to let you know that he needs you.

“Can I get you something? Water? Those shady over easy eggs you like so much?”

That gets a snicker to escape his lips, always finding your issue with eggs to be humorous. You were not an egg person and commonly called it, “the devil’s snot,” which let Terry know you might have been spending too much time with your granny and great-aunties.

“Maybe later,” he says, “can you just be here with me?”

You don’t hesitate to cup his face once he turns his gaze to you and not this daze he seems to be in. He slowly blinks at your touch, head moving to press a kiss into the palm of your hand. You nod and he moved again to lay in you lap, hands wrapping around your hips tight that you have to remind yourself to breathe.

Something was wrong and you were determined to fix it—if he would let you. You didn’t push him and let Terry rest as you squeezed one of his shoulders being trailing your fingers across his back to the other.

That’s when you felt it underneath his shirt, a bandage of some sorts. You kept it to yourself for now, knowing he would tell you as you continued rubbing circles across his back to soothe him.

It had to have been a half hour when Terry dozed off and your legs were aching. You forgot to put a pillow down for extra cushion but Terry never had any problems using your body as his personal pillow. Some things never change.

Your attempt to weasel out of his hold was a challenge before you realized he was holding onto you on purpose. It was good to still see some humor in him due to whatever happened once he left this town.

“Be for real,” you tell him as he looks back at you, “I’m trying to get up and make breakfast and this is what we’re doing?”

Terry sits up, always the light sleeper but there’s a weight in his chest that won’t ever subside, “wanted to see if you still had it in you to get out of my hold…you need some more work.”

“I lug baggage at the airport that’s heavier.” You sass pushing yourself off the couch, “I didn’t get my stretches in yet so excuuuse me, Mr. Richmond.”

Terry mutters playfully, “sounds like excuses to me.”

“You know what? It’s too early for your irritation so why don’t you take another nap?”

Terry shakes his head as you make your way over to the fridge, “nah, I much rather watch your face while you mentally fuss over the eggs.”

“Ah so I’m your source of entertainment for you this morning am I?” You place your hands on your hips as Terry places his elbows into his knees, “let me go find my flapper dress.”

“…I wouldn’t mind seeing you in a dress again.” He admits, eyes burning into you from across the room.

Rolling your eyes you turn right back around so he couldn’t see how much of an effect that had on you. It shouldn’t by any means but here your insides were acting up!

When you turn around with the carton in your hands, you’re met with Terry’s chest that catches you by surprise. His arms lock over your shoulders as you carefully hold onto the eggs and feel him relax against you. He always smelled like leather and pine and that also hasn’t changed. Slowly you snake a free arm across his waist and lean your ear into his chest, finding his heartbeat. It’s always the most soothing thing, equivalent to your hands on his back.

You’re not sure how long you’re holding onto each other but you don’t question what this is all about or what this is for. You didn’t need to, you knew Terry Richmond and you knew when something was up, regardless of the distance that was between the two of you. He came to you in the middle of night at your job and again in the early morning. The pull was still there and perhaps it would always be that way.

He wants to help you make breakfast, after he lets go of you and you almost tell him to sit his big behind down, sensing that he was injured in more than one way but he’s not exactly a guest in this home. So he puts in the work beside you, just like old times and begins to open up about his time in Shelby springs much to your own heartache for him.

Terry arrived back home after all this time and as you sat from across each other just listening, you realized him being here was better late than never. 

☾˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚☕︎ ☾˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚☕︎ ☾˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚☕︎ ☾˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚☕︎ ☾˚ ༘

Continue with my September anthology prompts here.

[watermelongirl01]

The Tattoo

Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Criminal Minds x Supernatural

Summary: Your first humankind case reveals a new Hotchner´s side you didn´t know.

Content Warning: Flirty Hotch, Homicide description, Abuse, Rape, Violence, Triggering situations. (Please let me know if I let something out.)

Note: This is my version of the episode "Jones" in the early seasons, I changed a lot of the things but not all of them, It is just how I would've liked the case to be in my opinion, and obviously added a bunch of other things to fit the thread of my story, like Jason Gideon not being there. I hope you like it.

“Short stuff, are you ready?” 

“Nope”

“Come on, you’re going to be just fine.” Morgan gifted you a reassuring smile.

This was your first time filling in for a member of the group. Normally it wasn’t necessary, but the team was reduced to four. Emily was on mandatory vacation and JJ stayed at home to take care of a sick Henry, so now your presence was requested.

“It’s not what I’m used to.”

“No it’s not, but you are a great agent and will do just fine.” He said gently squeezing your arm. “You will charm them all.” 

“Of course I will, there is no doubt.” You smiled back.

“Let’s go then.” 

You both walked to the briefing room where the rest of the team was waiting, Morgan quickly walked to the empty chair In front of you, slightly pushing you to the side, leaving you with no option but to sit next to Hotch, not that you minded but lately all the members of the team have been acting a little weird.

You looked at Morgan with a questioning look but he completely ignored you and lowered his gaze to read the case files.

“We have a serial killer in New Orleans. Two men’s dead bodies were found over the last month, and a third body was found last night, the same MO, male, throat slashed, they were all found in semi-public places in the French Quarter.” You heard Penelope explain.  “The local police have no leads and no suspects so far, Mike Weller, the head detective is waiting for you.”

Hotch nodded and looked at everyone in the room. “Wheels up in thirty.” He said before disappearing out the door. 

—

When arriving, Hotch sent you and Reid to the forensic lab to examine the body.

“No hesitation marks.” You said pointing to the terrible wounds.

Spencer nodded. “Cuts are methodical and almost procedural.”

The forensic doctor looked at both of you. “The person who did this definitely had medical training, there’s no other way he could have done this.”

“He?” You glaze up to the doctor.

“No defensive wounds and took out pretty big men.” You frowned. “Although all the toxicology tests showed signs of alcohol.” 

“Any relatives came to claim the body?” Spencer asked.

The doctor nodded. “His wife came with his former colleague.” Both of you looked at him with a confused expression. “He was a retired officer.”

“The lead detective didn’t say anything about that.”

“I’m not surprised, he wasn’t popular at all, he had a reputation for being a dirty cop.” 

“I’ll call Garcia.” You said getting your phone out.

But suddenly Spencer’s phone began to ring and he immediately answered. “Where? Okay, we’ll be there.”  He looked at you as he got off the phone. “Another body was found, call her on the way there.” 

—

“Same MO.” Morgan informed. “Some people saw him leave the bar down the street.” 

“So, he was drunk just like the other victim.” You said while eyeing the Weller. “Do we know his profession?”

“Does it matter?” He asked with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

You step aside standing closer to him and shrugging your shoulders. “Humor me, detective.”

Detective Weller side-eyed you but nodded. “He was a well-known lawyer.”

“I see.” You crossed your arms while raising an eyebrow. “You forgot to mention that the fourth victim was a cop who used to work at your police station.”

“I don’t think it is relevant to the case.” Weller huffed.

“Well, we don’t know that yet.” You insisted. “Do we?”

The BAU men were looking at your disagreement with confusion, and suddenly a strong back wearing a gray and elegant suit got in between, blocking your vision. It took only a few seconds to recognize that it belonged to Hotchner.

“We would like to have access to all of the information available, it’s vital to be able to get the unsub’s profile.“ You heard Aaron talking to the detective.

“Sure, Agent Hotchner.” After Weller left the crime scene, Hotch turned around to see you.

“You are riding with me.” Hotch left the place hurriedly making you roll your eyes and toss your keys at Spencer.

You manage to keep up with Hotch’s pace and climb up on the SUV, some minutes passed and neither of you talked, but you got tired of the unbearable silence.

“If you’re going to scold me, just do it now.”

“I’m not.”

“Hotch he was in the wrong, you know that, right?”

“I’m aware.” You shot him a puzzled look.

“Then why get in the middle of my conversation?”

”Because that wasn’t a conversation, he was starting to raise his voice.”

“I can take it, Hotchner.”

“I know you can, doesn’t mean I want you to.” You felt how your facial expression softened at his comment. “Listen, some of these detectives think we are here to make them look bad, they feel threatened.”

You rolled your eyes. “How are their insecurities my fault?”

Hotch chuckled a bit. “They are not, just go easy on them so we can keep the case.”

—

You, Hotch, and Spencer stayed at the precinct to read all the new information about the victims while Rossi and Morgan left to talk with the new possible witnesses. Currently, you are on your third cup of coffee and your fifth case file.

“I can’t believe we were missing all this information.” You hissed.

“Simmer down.” Hotch murmured.

You looked at the evidence board leaning against the table, focusing on the victim's photos, and frowning when looking closer.

“Oh.”

“You found something new?” Spencer asked.

“Hmm, have you seen that all the victims have tattoos?” Both men got closer to look at the photos. 

“Well actually, in some religions tattoos are forbidden because they think of the body as a temple.” Spencer babbled and immediately stood up from his chair. “Some other religions even think that if you get a tattoo, you’re not allowed in heaven.”

“Really?” A look of confusion crossed your face.

Spencer quickly nodded while pointing up with his finger. “You shall not make any cuttings in your flesh for the dead, nor tattoo any marks on you: I am the Lord. Leviticus 19:28.” He added.

“So, we think this is a religious matter?” You asked.

“It could be a coincidence. Let’s ask Garcia if she can find something about it.” Spencer took his phone and left the room, leaving you and Hotch alone, looking at the board side to side.

“Well, that’s concerning. You know, some tattoos are meant to protect you.”

Hotch turned his head towards you. “What do you mean?”

“There’s this kind of tattoos that are protection symbols, usually hunters get them.”

“You have one?” Hotch’s upright posture was visibly shaken.

“I'm no hunter.” You said before walking back to the table, Hotch following you. “But yes, I do have one.”

“I’ve never seen a tattoo on you.” Hotch frowns

“That´s because it’s not in a visible spot.” You giggled while turning your back on Hotch to take out another stack of files.

Hotch’s eyes were found unconsciously roaming over your body. He had seen you in the summer, in short skirts and tiny tops, or with risky cleavages, hell he even had seen you in your pajamas when you shared a hotel room once or twice, but he never noticed any tattoos. That can only mean one last place. 

Hotch knew you were busy getting the files so his eyes ended up going down your back to your ass, He was positive your tattoo was on your hip or ass. 

You could feel Hotch’s eyes going down and up your body, You even turned your back on him longer than needed, so he could linger his sight on you even longer. Anyone could’ve said it was just Hotch’s curiosity but you saw that tiny shade of lust, sparkle in his eyes for a brief moment when you mentioned you having a tattoo.

You turned your body in a slow move and caught him still hypnotized by your body. “Looking for something Hotch?”

“Hips or ass, agent?” He asked with a straight face but his voice showed a hint of playfulness. He was teasing you.

The question made you smirk. “You’re not gonna hear it from me, you’re going to need to find out in another way, Sir.”

But before he could open his mouth to speak, Spencer came back to the room with bad news.

“Another body appeared, no tattoo.”

–

“Body number five, we can barely keep up with this guy.” you heard in the distance.

“Do we know who he is?” Hotch asked.

“Since it matters so much, His friend says he is a salesman.” Weller said, sending a nasty look at you. “No connection.”

“Detective Weller, I would appreciate it if your answer were directed at me. When I ask a question.” Hotch replied.

Weller huffed with irritation and you thought you heard him grumble something, but you’re not sure if he was agreeing with Hotch or cursing you under his breath. “We have five bodies, Agent Hotchner, and no correlation.”

“Okay, all victims were partying late at night with their friends and killed in the alley with no one noticing, how did the unsub manage to get them alone?” Hotch looked at his team, they were all lost in thoughts.

“A woman.” Detective Weller's mocking laughter echoed in the room.

“Let her finish.” It only took the look on Hotch’s eyes to harden, to force Weller to shut up.

“What is the only temptation for a straight man that’s going to lure him away from his friends and make him leave the bar?” Your expecting eyes were moving around glancing at your team’s faces.

“A woman.” Rossi repeated while nodding his head.

Hotch turned on his heels and looked at the detective. “Gather your men, we are ready to give a profile.” 

—

“Ready?” Hotch whispered in your ear, making the baby hairs on the back of your neck stand at the sound of his voice.

“What?” You whispered back feeling numb by his closeness.

“Ready to give the profile?” 

“Hotch, I’ve never gi-.” Your voice trails off. “I don’t think it is a good idea.”

“It is.” He assured you pushing you to the side and walking to the room full of cops.

Lost in your thoughts you barely felt two hands holding your arms from behind, giving you a light squeeze. “You got this, Kid.” Rossi left your side and followed Hotch in the other precinct's room.

You sighed and took a deep breath. This was your first time profiling a human case, not covering up supernatural events or rehearsing made-up stories. This felt different, good different.

You walked confidently and stood in the middle of the room surrounded by your team.

“We are looking for a woman between 30 and 35, she’s friendly, she’ll lure with charm but kill with rage.” You began your speech, feeling every pair of eyes looking at you with attention. “We believe she kills men to reclaim her power.” 

“She probably suffers from low self-esteem but covers it well.” You heard Morgan's voice.

“We believe this woman went through a catastrophic event, that’s when the killing started.” Rossi pointed.

“She has medical training, you should consider EMTs, doctors, or veterinarians.” 

“It’s more likely we are dealing with the Aileen Wournos archetype, motivated by paranoia and fear, luring men with sex.” Spencer added.

“She certainly knows the terrain, so be careful out there.” Hotch remarked.

A couple of hours later after the profile, Detective Weller came in a hurry with a piece of paper in an evidence bag.

“Forensics found a letter on the victim's body.” He said handing it over to Hotch. “She’s mocking us.”

“Dear boss, he wanted it. With that sharp tongue and vulgar hand. I thought you’d like to know that another will soon get what he deserves.

Yours truly.”  

“That 's weird.” All eyes searched Spencer’s voice. “Typically offenders write letters to be heard. Jack the Ripper bragged about not being caught yet this Unsub isn’t using correspondence to flaunt her latest kill. Only to explain why she did it.” He explained while moving his hands around.

“It’s possible that she considers herself a vigilante. That the man she’s killing deserves to die.” Rossi blurted.

“Then, every kill she’s acting out is a fantasy of revenge or a real revenge?” Everyone in the room returned to their thoughts wondering at Morgan’s question.

You shifted in your place with uncertainty. “Maybe she is contacting us not because we are on the case, but because she believes we understand.” With fingers tapping against the wood, you began to unravel the tiny hints in the letter. “The Unsub wrote, He wanted it as she couldn’t help herself. What if she’s mirroring the man who raped her?”

”Where are the files stored from your Sex Crimes Division?” Hotch looked at Weller’s direction.

The detective stepped out of the room momentarily and returned with a medium-sized carton box with a few files that barely stuck out of the box. “Here they are.”

“That 's it?” You let out with a surprised tone of voice.

After several hours of trying to match your profile with any file in the box, you were exhausted. You decided to take a quick break and enter the bathroom, You locked yourself inside one of the bathroom booths and sighed while your hands held your head.

The sound of the door being opened ripped you out of your pessimistic thoughts. Suddenly a hand left a piece of paper report at your feet, leaving you uncertain on what to do. You tried to thank the person but, you were answered with fast footsteps leaving the place.

You took the paper and read in a whispered voice, Disturbance at Jones.

~~

“Care to tell us what happened then, detective?” Hotch asked.

Detective Weller shifted in his seat with discomfort. “How did you know about this incident?”

“It was in the box you gave us, Weller.” Morgan said while leaning against the wall, looking directly at Weller.

“I don’t think so.”

“Maybe you misplaced it, who cares?” You argued. 

He looked at you with disdain. Aaron couldn’t help himself and stepped closer to you showing protection. “This happened when the head detective before me was in charge, I took some of the declarations but that’s it.”

You smirked with satisfaction Knowing you were right all along. “The detective before you as our third victim?” He nodded.

“What happened there, detective?” 

“One of the boys asked her if she wanted to play pool. Witnesses claim she was up for anything. His friend, not far behind.“ All the eyes were on him. “He claims she knew he was there, She said she claimed for help but not a single person claimed that they heard her.”

You shook your head in disbelief. 

He continued, “That’s why it was registered as a disturbance. She wanted to press charges. But the head detective back then told her it was a waste of time.”

“How is this just a disturbance?” Rossi asked, frowning at Weller.

“As far as I was concerned, no such rape ever took place, and the boy was a colleague’s son, he is a good boy.”

Something in your stomach twisted and anger started to build up.

“We are trying to know her name; she could be our Unsub.” Morgan pointed out. Weller sighed when this realization dawned on him, but he slightly shook his head as he was ashamed of not knowing the answer. 

But you were sure shame wasn’t a feeling men like that could understand.

“You don’t remember her name?“ Morgan asked with incredulity.

“It was nine years ago.” 

“What about the name of the good kid that raped her?” You bickered.

~~

“Mr. Tibideaux, we need you to answer a few questions about a disturbance you were involved with.“ Hotch’s voice resonated inside the four walls of the interrogation room.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

Disgust appeared in your face, but you hid it by biting your tongue. You didn’t know why Hotch asked you to be there, but you hated every minute of it.

“At a bar called Jones, It was Mardi Gras.” Hotch reminded him.

“You know, then I must’ve been drinking or something. Cause I don’t remember a thing.”

With your feet tapping the floor, you were counting the seconds to be able to leave the room and be away from the so-called good boy.

“We just need to know the name of your accuser.” Hotch demanded. If he was annoyed there was no way to know.

“Look, I told you. I don’t know what you are talking about”

You roughly massaged your right temple, fuming.

”The statute of limitations is up, we just need a name.” He added calmly.

“Someone accuses me of rape, I’m gonna remember her name.” You taunted.

“Well, what can I tell you, Cher? I guess she didn’t make that good of an impression.“

Your eyes narrowed dismissively.

”Unlike yourself right now.” You retorted.

“You know. I’m guessing if someone did do something to that girl that night then she was probably asking for it. Maybe even liked it.”

You controlled the urge to smash his head against the table and abruptly took the file out of Hotch’s hands, you opened it and began to display all the victim's photos in front of him.

“You know Hotch, maybe we are not too late, she murdered these men and I’m guessing it’s only a matter of time before she works her way back to the one she really wants to kill.” You tilted your head to look at him but he was busy looking at the pictures with a horrified look. “Is she making an impression now?

Your words suggested you were talking to Hotch but your sight was set on the other man in the room.

“You don’t want to tell us, fine.” You snickered. “Cause Daddy can’t make this go away, and I have no problem waiting for your dead body to give me a new hint.”  

You leaned closer, you didn’t have to talk anymore, you knew your eyes were saying enough. But you continued.

“In fact, I wouldn’t like anything else, so I’m gonna go ahead and set my alarm for tomorrow morning when I get the call from the police.” You ranted.  “Cause, believe me, I’m going to sleep better knowing there is one less offender out of the streets.”

After hearing the name you needed, you stormed out of the room leaving everyone behind without looking back until you heard a voice calling for you.

“That was out of line, agent.” You abruptly stopped and turned on your heels to look at Weller. 

“The only thing out of line is how pathetic you are at doing your job, Weller.” You turned back at him one more time and kept waking till reaching a quiet corner to make a phone call.

“Work me.” You hear Penelope’s voice on your phone.

“We have a name. Sarah Danlin. I need an address.”

“1141 Sherman Avenue. It looks like she was a med student at Tulane but she dropped out.”

“Let me guess, February nine years ago.”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks.” 

~~

You returned to the hotel room by Hotchner’s request, and you knew he was in the right to send you back, you got carried away by your emotions. 

You were a mess. Closing your room door, you let your emotions overpower you once more. Tears were falling down your face. You weren’t sure what you were feeling. No one ever prepared you for this kind of case, you felt powerless, empty, and lost. And finally, rage possessed your emotions.

You tossed glasses and trails of empty dishes, and your luggage and clothes flew around the room until your energy and strength gave up and tiredness reached you.

You are sure the hotel staff let Hotch know, cause he kept checking with you constantly. He let you know when they arrested her and how she told them she killed every man who helped cover up her abuse.

You heard your door being open and looked at Hotchner with a questioning look when you saw him standing there.

“How did you open my door?” 

He showed you his key. “We are sharing.”

You frowned. “Since when?”

“Since now, there has been an unexpected cut in the budget.” You nodded knowing it was a lie and he probably wanted to check on you. But you said nothing.

“Some things fall by themselves, I think there’s a ghost.” You said when you caught him looking at the mess on the floor.

“I think you can manage that.” 

He left his duffel bag on the floor and sat next to you on the bed. 

“Are you okay?” He asked.

That simple question was enough to break your strong façade. It was a question you normally have no problem answering with a lie, and you didn’t know if it was the situation or just because Hotch was the one asking. But it brought you down to tears. 

He took you in his arms and hugged you tight.

“I’m sorry.” 

“It 's okay.” He softly mumbled on your head reassuring you. “You said what you needed to say.”

You quickly shook your head.

“I meant it.” You sniffled. “I was willing to wait.”

“I know.” He said while caressing your back with soothing movements. 

“So, normally you have to deal with these detectives making your job impossible?”

“Yeah, all the time.” He chuckled. 

“God, it’s exhausting.” You laugh a little 

“You don’t?”

“No, they basically beg me to take the case out of their hands.” 

Hotch sighed. “You need to learn new methods for the interrogation.” He searched for your eyes. “I mean, only if you want to keep coming to these cases with us, you want to?”

“Yeah.” You smiled at him.

“You are a profiler now, welcome to the team.”

~~

Back in Quantico, you were getting ready to leave your office when you got a call from an unknown number. You hesitated but finally answered after letting it ring for a couple of seconds.

“Hello?”

“Hey, sweetheart.”

“Dean?” You frowned looking back at the number.

“We need a little bit of help.” Reality sank on you.

“Tell me you are not calling from where I think you are calling.” 

“Agent Henriksen got to us.”

“Damn it, Dean, How the heck did he manage to do that?”

“Bella Talbot.”

“That bitch again?” You sighed. “Where are you?”

“Colorado.”

“I’m on my way.”

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Blurbs: Say You Love Me

————————————————————————-

summary: you prank Joe by not saying “I love you” back after seeing another couple do it on TikTok.

warnings: fluff, unserious/funny, pranks, illusions to smut at the end.

pairing: joe burrow x reader

Imagine universe: Into The Mystic

————————————————————————-

*no particular date for this blurb!*

(y/n’s pov)

It was a quiet afternoon in the Burrow home, which lately seemed to be a very rare occasion. Joe was upstairs getting ready to go over to Sam Hubbard’s house since a few of the guys were getting together over there. Mostly captains and a couple of other players.

The twins currently sat next to me on the couch while they babbled back and forth with the cartoons playing on the TV.

When I found out I was pregnant, Joe and I had set very strict guidelines for our future kids. Cartoons and tech limit being a huge one we both agreed on.

Well, that was before we became parents. We quickly realized that having two toddler boys at the same time meant using anything to calm them, distract them, keep them content, etc. The list could honestly go on forever.

Now that Joe was going to be leaving soon, I planned to keep them occupied with the TV til they eventually had to take a nap.

As I noticed Miles starting to get tired, Joe came bounding down the stairs loudly making an introduction as usual.

“Hey baby, I'm going to Sam’s now. I'm gonna make sure to get home before dinnertime so I can grill steak tonight.” - Joe

“Mmm. Sounds good.” - you

He made his way over to the couch and bent down to be at eye level with me.

“I've been craving a good steak for a bit so I'm def looking forward to it.” - Joe chuckled

“Okay, babe. Have fun.” - you

Joe leaned forward to give me a quick kiss before pulling away and standing up with a smile.

“Bye, mama. I love you.” - Joe

Let the prank begin.

In all honesty, as fun as this prank was going to be just to see how he'd react it was also kinda sad. Joe has always made it apparent to verbally profess his love for me, and not matching his statement would certainly be something he'd dwell on.

When we first started dating back in high school, Joe made it known to me that the statement “I Love You.” was not something he just threw around. To him, it was a more intimate thing and he'd only tell it to someone if he truly meant it.

I was lucky enough to be one of the people on the receiving end of those three special words leaving Joe’s lips.

But for right now, he wasn't getting the return of those special words.

“Bye Joe.” - you

I tried to study his expression when he realized the fact I didn't say it back but for a second it didn't seem like he had. When he did though, it was very obvious. Maybe she didn't hear me? Joe thought.

Joe leaned down and kissed me once again, this time a lot longer than the first.

“I love you.” - Joe

“Have fun at Sam’s!” - you smiled

The look he gave me wasn't a reflection of hurt but more of confusion and worry.

“You okay?” - Joe

“Yeah, why? I'm great!” - you

He stood there for a second trying to take in my body language, but there wasn't a noticeable difference to him.

“Okay, just checking.” - Joe

Leaning down once again, Joe pressed a very thorough kiss on my lips. My hand rested on his cheek and my thumb rubbed under one of his eyes as we kissed. After, our foreheads stayed touching, and Joe just smiled at me.

“Bye, I love you.” - Joe

“Bye, baby. Tell the boys I say hi!” - you

Joe abruptly stood up after that. They way you kissed him wasn't matching your lack of sentiment.

“y/n? Did I do something?” - Joe

“No. Joe are you okay?” - you

He scoffed before collecting his thoughts and speaking.

“Well I was but i’m kinda confused now.” - Joe

“About what?” - you

I watched Joe cock his head to the side as he narrowed his eyes at me, he was completely and utterly lost.

You were acting completely normal, and happy; kissing him and calling him baby, but you wouldn't say I love you back?

“Do you not want me to go?” - Joe

“What no? Do you want me to not want you to go?” - you

“I mean I wasn't going for that, but I feel like I should stay now.” - Joe

“Why?” - you chuckled

Joe crossed his arms across his built chest, making his muscles bulge, and huffed out a loud breath.

“Are you mad that I was gonna go hang out with the guys today? If you didn't want me to go you could've told me.” - Joe

“You know I don't care if you hang out with your teammates if anything I encourage it. Why are you acting like this?” - you

“What do you mean me?? y/n, what the hell is happening?” - Joe

“I don't even know what you're referring to.” - you

He dropped his arms and ran a hand through his soft curls while heaving a sigh.

“Okay nevermind, whatever. I'm going now. I love you.” - Joe

Joe watched me intently and very closely to see what my next move was.

“Have fun, Joe. I'll be here with the boys waiting for your return.” - you

His expression and body language stayed the same but the words that left his mouth next said the opposite.

“Do you not love me anymore?” - Joe

My mouth dropped open and my eyes widened at his question, have I gone too far?

“What?! Where did that even come from? That's a stupid question and you know it.” - you

“Yeah, sorry.” - Joe looked down at his feet

There were a few seconds of silence before Joe looked back to me.

“I’m gonna go now, or else I'll be late.” - Joe

“Okay, c’mere give me a kiss.” - you

Bending down once again, Joe pressed little pecks on my lips over and over again before pulling away.

“Love you.” - Joe smiled

“Thanks.” - you

“y/n… I’m your husband. Why won't you say it back?” - Joe

“Say what back?” - you

“Don't play dumb. Every time I say I love you, you completely dodge it. What’s that about? If I did something tell me. Please.” - Joe

“Dont know what you're talking about.” - you

Joe’s jaw clenched up and he looked at his two boys who were by now watching him and I instead of their show.

“Hey guys can you go upstairs so Mommy and Daddy can talk?” - Joe

Oh shit.

The boys nodded and eventually went upstairs to their room. Once Joe saw their little frames disappear he turned back to me, his nostrils were flared and he looked mad.

“y/n, what the fuck did I do? It's not our anniversary, you're not on your period, we were literally cuddling an hour ago, and you are kissing me like nothing is up. Why won't you say you love me? It's fucking me up like hell, y/n.” - Joe

I stood up abruptly and wrapped my arms around him, pressing my face into his neck.

“If this is a joke- I swear to literal God.” - Joe

“I'm so sorry Joe. It was just a little prank but I took it way too far, please don't be mad at me. I seriously didn't intend to get you this worked up. I didn't know it'd mess with you like that.” - you

He stayed silent and I moved my head to his chest, his heart was beating unhealthy fast.

“Joe? Baby, are you okay? Your heart is beating really really fast.” - you

I looked up at him as I rubbed his back with one hand, the other rubbed over his heart. Joe was looking straight ahead at the wall, trying to not acknowledge me.

“Say it.” - Joe

“Say wha-” - you

“Say it.” - Joe looked at you

I moved my hands to cup his cheeks and placed a huge kiss on his lips.

“I love you. I love you so much, Joe. I love you more than anything.” - you

“Thanks.” - Joe smirked

“You ass!” - you shoved him as he laughed

We eventually stopped laughing and pulled each other into a hug.

“I love you.” - you

“I love you too.” - Joe smiled and kissed you

Joe and I kept kissing as our hands started to roam over each other’s bodies. Though I protested, Joe pulled away eventually and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“What are you doing?” - you

“Texting Sam and saying something came up last minute.” - Joe

I smiled and came up with a quick response.

“Oh, something def came up.” - you held eye contact with Joe before flicking your gaze down to his crotch

“Now you're in trouble.” - Joe

He tossed his phone onto the couch and picked me up bridal-style, running to the stairs as we both giggled.

I really loved Joe with my whole heart.

[jenscx]

[06] tumblr girls — the love of my life

it was cliché; being in love with danielle marsh, the straightest girl on earth. you thought your feelings were hopeless, until you discover her tumblr blog.

jihye doesn’t know what to do. the revelation that you had known all this time— known about her feelings and affection for you, known about her online persona, known about the side of her that she’s hidden all this time. it’s suffocating. she feels so upset. jihye hasn’t moved from the spot where she last saw you. her parents are sound asleep upstairs and jihye tries to stifle her sobs to not wake them.

she wishes you were joking, just kidding with her. yet, the raw emotion radiating off your words, the apology filled with sorrow and sadness, maybe even regret, it was undeniably true. her knees were weak, wobbling and almost falling off balance.

jihye can’t even tell if this is a whole prank. how could you become her friend so easily just to betray her like that?

her phone vibrates in her bag and as she tries to fish it out with bleary eyes, filled with unshed tears, the flower bouquet staring right at her. each petal glowing with pity and sympathy. a wrenched hand shoots out to grasp her heart, squeezing it in a vice grip.

a choked sob escapes her as she recalls the scene where you had so shyly passed her the bouquet. your bashful smile, the sheepish expression on your face.

god, jihye couldn’t do this right now.

wiping away her tears, she checks her phone. a single message from you.

jeon y/n [10.17pm]:

i’m sorry. i’ll do the project by myself

the project? jihye had totally forgotten about it. she wills herself to move from the same spot, padding to the couch and sinking into the cushion. she doesn’t know how to continue with her school life, having to see you almost every day. it just didn’t make sense how you could play with her feelings so easily. still glaring at your message, jihye lets out a resigned sigh.

the only reason she had even suggested research on human attraction was to try and profess her adoration in a way that wouldn’t be too obvious. but now, what was she meant to do? it felt as if her whole world had collapsed. she didn’t just like you. if it was a simple crush she wouldn’t be feeling this way.

the realisation comes to her hard. this isn’t a mere attraction or infatuation.

it might just be love. she knows now how deep her love runs.

jihye’s so tired of thinking. were all those words of comfort you said to her fake as well? she hadn’t expected you to become her partner in any way. but the moment your name had appeared right next to hers, she knew that she had to use this opportunity to prove something. and right after her stunt in the classroom, seeing you at the football game? jihye bites her lip, thinking about the way you were staring at her. she had pretended not to see you yet, until you had so cutely waved at her. the pure shock overwhelming her, distracting her from the routine and causing her to fall. it was embarrassing, really but your concern for her made up for it.

and the way she had pointed out your jacket! she just couldn’t contain her curiosity and throughout your friendship, you seemed particularly fond of minji. jihye twirls her fingers together, frowning at the thought. you had told her minji and hanni were in a strange situationship but it still didn’t quell her fears that you might have been harbouring some sort of secret feelings for your best friend.

you had confessed to her though. in the midst of your ramble you had explicitly said that you liked her. jihye groans just thinking about it. she doesn’t know what to feel. on one hand, she was betrayed. on the other hand, her crush returned her feelings. why couldn’t you have just not done anything? she would be fine just living with her feelings.

(no she wouldn’t be.)

her finger involuntarily moves to tap on her spotify. it’s the playlist that you made for her playing. jihye feels as if her head might explode. these actions of yours couldn’t be a lie as well, right? she’s going crazy.

this was something straight out of the romance novels she’s read. this isn’t something that would happen to a regular person— how could it be?

she sinks further into the couch. the blouse she had put on previously to look pretty for you itches uncomfortably on her skin. she wants to get rid of the feeling, both physically and emotionally. begrudgingly, jihye brings herself to shower after the taxing day.

that’s what she needs. a cold shower to calm her down.

jihye inhales sharply.

she can get through this. she’s been through many hardships already. this won’t affect her in any way. she’ll just pretend everything was a bad nightmare.

she can get through this, just like she always has.

so that was a lie. jihye cannot get through this. she had gotten out of bed, hair tousled and eyes red from crying. she looked like she had gotten dumped. how could she feel heartbreak without even being in a relationship? the look her mother had on her face was only a testament to how jihye was feeling. wearily, she went to school without eating breakfast. she didn’t have the appetite. it proved to be a bad idea when her stomach growled during the first period. already feeling bad enough, there was a surprise pop quiz for geography that jihye definitely flunked.

not to mention the stares she got from other people in the hallways when she made her way to class. they were most likely questioning why the usually bright and energetic cheerleader was more gloomy than her best friend. even haerin had been confused.

the girl had whispered in her ear conspiratorially, “did she mess up on the date?”

jihye could only laugh wetly, “yeah, kind of.”

maybe the attention from other people was expected, but what wasn’t, was hanni and minji cornering her after school.

she had just finished her last class and she couldn’t wait to leave the school but your friends had swerved to hold her back. the classroom was empty, void of any students left. you had left in a hurry while jihye took her time to pack up. your friends had waited outside before coming in and interrogating her.

“what do you guys want?” jihye tries to ask as nicely as possible but even that comes out harsh.

minji cowers while hanni mumbles, “we want to know what happened between you and… yeah. she’s not herself. well, she’s not okay.”

what about me? jihye wanted to ask. you weren’t the only one affected by this. she remains mum however, choosing not to reply. it would be unsightly to argue with your friends.

“you don’t have to tell us,” minji offers, “we kind of know the whole outline but not the details. are you okay though?”

jihye’s eyes flit upwards. she doesn’t know whether to tell minji and hanni. what if she said something and your friends just relayed it back to you?

sensing her hesitance, hanni says, “we won’t tell her, don’t worry.”

something about the two girls made jihye want to tell them. maybe it was the lack of sympathy in their words, only comforting. they didn’t pity her for being in this situation. it was something jihye needed.

she swallows and states, “she said she likes me.”

both girls’ eyes widened visibly.

“did you reject her?” minji blurts out.

jihye shakes her head, “no, i… i like her too.”

“WHAT?!”

“why’d you reject her?” hanni asks, albeit more calmly than minji’s reaction. jihye only sighs, “because she told me something that betrayed my trust.”

hanni’s face falls into a contemplative look while minji looks flabbergasted. perhaps aghast that her best friend actually had a chance with her crush but ruined it. jihye would think that her expression looks funny if not for the serious matter at hand.

“do you mind telling us more?” she eventually says.

“uhm, only if you don’t tell her anything.”

they exchange a look that makes jihye’s nerves rise before coming to an agreement.

“we swear we won’t,” hanni promises as minji nods feverishly. they don’t look like they would go back on their promise. yet, you didn’t seem like the type to act so rashly either.

“she found out that i liked her,” jihye starts, “because she saw my tumblr blog and she didn’t tell me either until last night. she told me and i… i just couldn’t handle knowing that she saw such a vulnerable and personal side of me.”

“did you not want her to see it?”

“i didn’t. not yet. i was trying to convey my feelings through my actions,” jihye blushes, thinking of the numerous times she’s complimented you, “i thought she was dense. not that she already knew.” even that time when she met you in the library, she had explicitly asked if you liked a song for girls and you had only brushed it off.

hanni scowls, “she’s stupid.”

jihye shrugs. you were stupid. that, she can’t deny.

“are you going to talk to her anytime soon?” minji asks suddenly. jihye doesn’t know if she should. her lips pursed, minji just sighs, “she’s been super depressed lately—”

the girl gets interrupted by hanni elbowing her stomach, shushing her. jihye raises her eyebrows at the way minji just quietens down without a word. she really does listen to hanni, jihye muses, thinking back on your prolonged explanation about your best friends’ relationship with each other.

“we’re not saying that to… y’know, try and get you to talk to her,” hanni says frantically, “but i think you need it as much as she does.” some part of her subconscious mind feels that there’s truth in hanni’s words. jihye needs to set a clear boundary with you.

“just think about it, okay?” the shorter girl whispers softly. jihye nods stiffly.

before she even gets to reply, both minji and hanni leave, hand in hand, might she add. they don’t turn back to look at her and jihye appreciates it. for if they do, they might have seen the broken look in her eyes, farcast and stormy.

you’re lounging on your couch, still thinking about your wrongdoings with jihye. the soft ambiance of the playlist made for her plays in the background while you stare emptily at the blank tv screen. you haven’t felt like this in a long time. defeated and desperate for any semblance of comfort.

on the coffee table lay your laptop, open with the display of your presentation on your project with jihye. it’s completed. you finished it after pulling an all-nighter and you could see jihye’s icon popping up to check in on the progress. your fingers fly out to message her but you manage to restrain yourself, knowing that anything you said now would only widen the irreversible gap you’ve created.

minji and hanni had tried endlessly to cheer you up but to no avail. it seemed like you were just a shell of a person. blank face, blank stares, unwavering expressions of steel. a week has passed since your confession with no further development of your collapsing friendship with jihye.

you glance longingly at the laptop screen again, just as jihye’s icon disappears. there’s a comment left under the last slide.

mo jihye: good job.

it’s so ridiculous that a miniscule remark could cause happiness to bloom within you. jihye really doesn’t need to do much to make you happy. and it’s a sad realisation that this would be the last thing connecting you to the cheerleader.

you can’t believe that weeks worth of getting to befriend jihye has all gone down in the drain because of your own stupidity and recklessness. you had a chance to prove that you weren’t like the rest.

“what are you doing?” your entire body jolts at the sudden question from heejin. she blinks at you, confused at why you were staring so intently at the laptop.

“none of your business.”

heejin scowls before plopping herself right next to you on the couch. “you look ugly. did you cry?”

you groan, “shut up. i’m not okay.”

your sister merely rolls her eyes.

“something to do about that girl that you liked?”

“obviously.”

“why? what happened? and before you tell me to shut up again, this is me trying to be a good older sister,” heejin says, “tell me what’s wrong or else i’ll get mum.”

sighing, you bring your knees up to your chest, curling up beside the armrest of the couch, “i messed up with her and i don’t think she wants me near her.”

“is that why you came home crying?”

your head shoots up, “you saw me?”

heejin shrugs, “just a glimpse of you going into your room. i was getting water for hyunjin.”

the separation from jihye must have hit you hard since you don’t tease heejin about hyunjin.

“did she reject you? is that why? she’s straight?” heejin asks. you shake your head, chuckling sadly, “she likes me back.”

“so? what happened?”

“i can’t tell you, heej. but the way she looked at me that night,” you can already feel your chest constricting in pain from the sheer memory of jihye’s harsh gaze, “i don’t think i can even try to fix this.”

your sister nods understandingly but still retorts, “do or do not. there is no try.”

you’re a little thrown off by her wisdom.

“yoda. star wars episode five,” heejin laughs. what the hell— “it fits though right? you just need to show her that you’re beyond your mistakes.”

“you’re stupid,” her silly remark makes you laugh though. you feel some sort of gratitude for heejin’s dorky behaviour. it gives you comfort knowing that even though your relationship with jihye was hanging by a lifeline, everything else would stay the same.

“show her,” she says firmly, “that you’re serious.”

“how?” it truly is the only question you can ask. showing jihye that you’re serious about her? if you couldn’t portray it as words, how else could you convey such a heartfelt emotion? it wasn’t a discontinuous variation that was measurable.

heejin smiles softly and for the first time, you’re starstruck, wondering how you could have ended up with someone like her by your side.

“that’s all you,” she encourages, “be vulnerable. she’s built up walls around her because she’s afraid of getting hurt. if you can show her your true self, maybe she’ll open up too.”

you nod, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“thanks heej.” you can’t put it into words how thankful you are for your sister’s presence. it’s so overwhelming that it nearly brings tears to your eyes again—

“deadass.”

“that is not what that means—”

just as the clock strikes one, the bell rings. you glance up from your chemistry worksheet and dread starts to accumulate within you. the next class was the one where you had to present your project with jihye and just the mere thought of standing near her had you trembling like a leaf. you had come to terms with the fact that jihye might not forgive you but you at least had to talk to her. now, the only thing left, and the hardest part was to in fact, talk to her.

you gulp just as minji and hanni quieten down, both coming to the same realisation and turning to you hastily. other than heejin, your best friends have been pillars of support for you. even though you didn’t reveal what your exact troubles were, they still stuck by you. it was nice to have someone. you had hoped that jihye had people to take care of her as well. unless she was unaffected by everything but you don’t visit that thought often.

when mr lee strolls into class, he’s sporting a wide grin. you already know where this is headed and soon, your suspicions come through when he flashes on the projector, in big, bold words, the first group’s presentation.

resisting the urge to avert your eyes to jihye’s back, you force your gaze onto your bumbling classmates who head to the front of the class.

of course you don’t notice the way jihye’s body has been tensed up since the start of class.

you barely pay attention to the presentation, subconsciously focusing on your palpitating heart instead. it beats painfully against your ribcage, almost breaking through it. you can’t feel anything but anxiety and fear.

“—thank you for that presentation,” mr lee says as he types fiercely on his laptop, “next is minji and jiwoo.”

you watch your friend walk up to the front, sending her an encouraging smile while hanni chuckles silently.

“begin whenever you want, girls.”

again, you don’t pay attention. nothing is absorbed into your head. the only thing residing there is a blurry haze of bright doe eyes and a gleaming smile. it's scarily similar to the girl sitting just a few rows ahead of you.

a few minutes pass as your eyes eventually end up boring holes into the brunette’s back. your eyes flicker upwards when the class starts applauding. oh. minji and jiwoo both bow and take their seats again.

“alright, i think we have time for one more?” mr lee says to himself, scrolling down on his mouse. he looks up, “jihye and y/n?”

you gulp, standing up with the whispers of comfort from minji and hanni behind you.

(“i hope she doesn’t start crying,” minji mutters.

hanni nods, “that would be bad. but funny.”)

each step you take feels like you’re inching closer to your death. your footsteps resound in your head, echoing louder than the depreciating voices you hear. jihye’s already standing awkwardly in front, fidgeting with her fingers. you don’t dare to raise your head.

“start whenever you’re ready.”

jihye clears her throat, her eyes flitting to the projector screen displaying your presentation.

“we decided to research human attraction,” her voice trails off at the end before coming back stronger, “it’s deeply rooted in our psychology and biology, combining the two, making it an interesting topic. hence, we started with analysing the human brain.” her words, even though they were consistently rehearsed, still felt like music to your ears. you’ve heard her say this exact thing numerous times but anytime that she talks, it feels like time stops.

she stares at you and for a moment, you’re in a daze before you realise it’s your turn.

“there are many forms of attraction; sexual, physical, emotional, romantic and aesthetic. we can be attracted to someone based off their emotional capabilities and not their physical appearance and vice versa,” you click to the next slide, showcasing data and studies from the late nights you’ve spent with jihye researching, “we generally find someone attractive if they have similar interests as us. we believe that they share a common outlook on life and adapt to the same behavioural patterns.”

you don’t need research to prove that true. you know that through all the conversations about music with jihye, it strengthened your liking towards her.

as jihye explains further, you can only gaze longingly at her. she’s never felt so far away from you. even her body language, turned away and facing the class instead of you.

“there’s been numerous studies done on human attraction but no one has been able to accurately define what is attractive to us. due to the complexity of the human mind, we can’t really outright state that something attracts us,” you explain but you can’t disagree further.

you can most definitely define what attracts you. a cheerful and silly girl from australia that’s for sure.

“yet, despite the science and psychology behind human attraction, there’s been a lingering question of whether we truly feel attraction or we’re forced into it. people who are asexual and aromantic may not feel the same as us. attraction can’t be measured. this begs the question of whether attraction is spiritual in nature. some may say that they feel an undeniable connection with another person, deeming it to be their soulmate,” the word leaves a bitter taste on your tongue. it’s scalding and toxic. soulmates. what a phenomenon.

“the idea of fate is popular. maybe the universe has created your destiny in such a way that you would end up with this person no matter what,” jihye says, “that’s what attracts you to someone you barely know.”

you barely knew jihye. she was just another crush out of your league. yet, she still ended up meeting you. was it fate too? you don’t believe in soulmates, but if you did, you would want jihye to be yours.

“their one true love,” jihye repeats, “even though a person can experience multiple forms of attraction. they believe in finding a soul destined for them. there has been no evidence that people are fated for each other. but it’s a nice thought, isn’t it?”

the rest of the presentation goes by in a blur as you think about jihye’s last words. fate. what a funny thing to say. it is a nice thought; to have someone out there, waiting for you to come into their life.

perhaps it truly was fate that you were assigned to be jihye’s partner. maybe every single time you’ve met her, it was fate. and every single time you didn’t, it opened up another reality where you would eventually end up at her door, apologising once more. maybe in every single universe, you were doomed to a life of misery, caused by your own foolishness.

and maybe if you never clicked on her tumblr blog, you would go on with your life, never knowing if that girl in high school ever liked you back.

“—thank you, y/n and jihye.”

you snap out of your reverie when jihye nudges you slightly. blinking a few times, you head back to your seat wobbly.

“are you okay? you kinda zoned out there,” hanni whispers. you nod, still trying to steady your bearings.

everything you’ve thought about. it doesn’t matter anymore. it has never mattered because in the end, you’re not the one destined for jihye. maybe she deserves someone better. someone that has enough confidence to believe in their own capabilities rather than resort to such ways. there was never a need for you to invade her privacy. should you even try to ask for forgiveness anymore?

you still should. because jihye deserves a proper apology, even if you don’t deserve her forgiveness.

“hey, after this i’m gonna stay back to talk to danielle for a bit,” you inform minji and hanni, who both simultaneously light up.

as the class ends, you pack your bag extra slowly, keeping a close eye on jihye. her hands tremble as she packs up. you wonder if she’s okay. everyone soon leaves and just as jihye’s about to exit the door, you voice out, “can we talk?”

her head turns and there’s a look of exasperation and confusion swirling in her eyes before she nods.

“y-you don’t have to say anything… or forgive me but i just want to apologise properly,” you mutter. jihye nods again.

taking a deep breath, you sigh, “i know i really messed up and it was a decision i made consciously. that i won’t deny. i was just desperate and it caused you harm, so i shouldn’t even have the right to continue liking you. but i want you to know that my feelings are true and i’m not lying about liking you. so, i’m sorry for invading your privacy like that.”

jihye tugs on her bag strap nervously, bouncing on her heels as she whispers, “i don’t know if i can do this.”

you feel a sliver of hope and joy that she isn’t outright rejecting you.

“th-that’s okay,” you struggle to mask your happiness, “i just wanted you to know how much you matter to me. if you don’t want to pursue a romantic relationship. i really would like it if we stayed friends too… i just need you in my life, danielle.”

the brunette nimbles on her bottom lip, her face full of uncertainty. you want to squeal at her cuteness. she looks even prettier today, maybe because it’s been so long since you’ve seen her up close. you take the time to admire her facial features in case she gets a restraining order on you.

”i like you too, but…”

“you can’t trust me?” you complete the sentence for her. and even though it hurts, jihye nods. you chuckle, “that’s okay. what can i do for you to trust me again?”

“you really hurt me.”

“i know, i’m sorry.”

jihye frowns, her eyebrows furrowing in concentration, “when did you start liking me?”

“when i moved blocks,” you admit. you have an inkling jihye just wants to embarrass you but even now, you don’t mind. it feels like deja vu when you first confessed, but maybe the girl blocked out everything from that night. you would want to forget it all too. “i saw you in the hallway and kind of got a hallway crush. then i kept noticing you in my classes.”

“what do you like about me?”

oh, this was easy.

“i like a lot of things about you, maybe everything,” your answer brings out a gorgeous blush on her cheeks, “i like the way you smile at everyone, the way you always look for the good in people, the positive outlook you have on life. i really adore the way you smile though.”

jihye turns her face away but you can even spot the redness heating up on her face. now your reply seems a little corny.

“sorry,” you mumble.

“it’s… it’s okay. i appreciate it,” she smiles. oh my god, she smiles— “most people just talk about my looks.”

“you’re beautiful, both in terms of appearance and personality.”

the brunette laughs softly and the sound is so delightful that you could cry. clearly your answers made jihye’s walls shrink slightly.

“i really like you, i swear,” you try to say earnestly, “if you push me away, i’ll accept it but i can’t promise that i’ll stop liking you.”

jihye shakes her head, “you can continue to like me and… i don’t think i want you to stop either.”

your eyes light up as you take in her words.

“does that mean—”

“yes y/n, i’m forgiving you,” jihye sighs. you can barely control yourself when you reach out to embrace the girl, throwing your arms over her shoulders and gripping to the back of her uniform tightly. neither can you contain the tears that fall, your contentment bursting at the seams and the adoration for jihye exploding in your heart. she relaxes in your hold, rubbing your waist gingerly.

“don’t mess up a second time, okay?” she teases cutely. you nod fervently, “i swear i won’t. i like you so much.”

you sigh happily, “thank you, danielle.”

there’s a moment of silence before jihye utters,

“call me jihye.”

masterlist | next

🎙️ author’s note: andddd tumblr girls has officially ended! i’ll try my best to come up with an epilogue of jihye and yn but as of now, this au is finished. thank you to everyone who has supported tumblr girls!! unfortunately i couldn’t finish it on tumblr girl’s one year anniversary (one year damn.) but at least it’s somewhere close LOL anyway i hope that you guys all enjoyed tumblr girls 🤍

[starlightshadowsworld]

If the Agency had different first meetings:

The tiger attacking lifestock during its rampage. Kenji goes to visit his family's farm and finds the tiger. He manages to placate the beast and than gives it a meal when he realises it's starving.

At some point Atsushi turns back and the two become friends. And when Kenji returns back to the Agency he asks if Atsushi would like to join him in the city.

Kyouka sends an anonymous tip to the Agency about a family she's been sent to kill. Kunikida gets them to safety and finds Kyouka waiting with her hands out.

But instead of arresting Kyouka, Kunikida offers her another path.

Kyouka: I'm not good at helping people.

Kunikida: Would you like me to teach you how?

Kyouka: Please.

Junichiro gives a lost Ranpo directions and finds himself being dragged along for an investigation into a conspiracy involving his own school.

Ranpo despite knowing the answers has Junichiro take over the case. And once it's over Junichiro ends up with a job offer.

Teen Kunikida gets in the middle on an alteration to protect an innocent. He's saved by Fukuzawa who scolds him for his reckless behaviour.

Kunikida tells him he can't just stand idly by when someone's in danger. Fukuzawa understands and tells him that well if he can't stop him the least he can do is give the right tools to protect himself and others.

And Kunikida becomes his pupil, and eventually his successor.

Yosano helps a grieving Kenji after he comes to her seeing if she can revive his friend. She comforts him, knowing that pain all to well and they explore the city together.

Kenji sees his strength as that of a monster, that people are afraid of him now and he caused such destruction it scared him.

Yosano tells him she knows what's that like, but helping others has helped her feel better about. He says he wishes he could help people too.

And she says now that I can help you with.

Dazai has his crimes erased by Perfect Crime but wants a back up, just incase. He gets in touch with a well known hacker who despite his profession is known for being a good man.

That hacker is Katai who while initially unsure ultimately decides to help him.

Dazai let's it slip that the reason he's doing all of this is to have a fresh start. A promise to a friend that is now lost.

Katai: You know, if you're serious about this new start, I've got a recommendation. If you're interested that is.

Dazai: Oh? What did you have in mind?

Katai: It's called the Armed Detective Agency.

[a-very-tired-jew]

I have an interview for a position outside of academia in a few hours and I’m both excited and saddened.

I love teaching. I love being a professor and lecturing on topics that I’m truly passionate about. My years in various performing arts has given me a skill set that translates very well to teaching students of all ages.

If you were to look at my student evaluations at the end of the semester you’d see that they repeatedly state I made students become passionate about subjects they’d never thought about because I was able to teach them in an entertaining way. Because at the end of the day, that’s what matters.

Did my students learn what I wanted them to learn? So what if I said “look at these fuckin bugs” or that “Anopholes mosquitoes feed face down, ass up”, my students learn the material and are engaged. They’re coming up to me the next semester to let me know that they’re now double majoring, minoring, or switched majors because of my classes. It’s a fantastic feeling and I love watching people fall in love with entomology like I did years ago.

But after the events of the Fall and Spring semesters at my university and academia as a whole… well, I no longer feel welcome. I no longer feel safe. I no longer feel like it’s worth trying to exist in this space.

I never made my politics or views on the I/P conflict known to my students, only a few of my colleagues have any clue and that’s due to me correcting misinformation. It is university policy to not put any of our politics into our lectures or advising. And let’s be honest, I’m lecturing on insects and other arthropods, the only politics that sort of become relevant are ones about conservation and climate change. Even then, I maintain as much neutrality as I can while sticking to empirically supported evidence.

I made this blog because my inability to actually speak out and vent about these things in my everyday life was just getting to be too much. I needed, and still do, an avenue to just talk about all of this shit and put my thoughts down.

However, the fact that myself, other Jewish faculty, and Jewish students have been harassed, assaulted, and our offices, dorms, and centers vandalized for simply being Jewish with no response from the university besides “we’re sorry that happened” is too little. I can’t, in good faith, stay in a profession where people target a minority for simply existing and leadership does nothing.

I’m hoping this interview is my way out for the time being and I get to stay local. I might come back to academia, but only to universities/colleges like Brandeis where I know I’ll be safe. I’d rather not have to clean “die kike” off my door again if possible.