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reidrum · 3 months

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like i would | s.r

pairing: spencer reid x bau!fem!reader

a/n: ok im gonna be honest idk how i feel about this one, i just wanted to finish it and put it out so apologies in advance if its not the best lol. this was requested with the prompt "i bet he can't fuck you like i can"! feedback and reblogs are always appreciated ! thanks for being paitent while i got this one out <3

cw: 18+ minors dni, smut, fingering, munch!spencer, jealous!spencer, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you whack it), reader's bf has a name which i hate in fics but its so hard to write this trope without a name so, afab!reader,

summary: a confession about your sex life makes it's way to the one person you'd hope wouldn't hear, and now he's determined to rectify the way you've been wronged

wc: 4.5k

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you were a great asset to the bau. it was why you were personally recommended by emily to transfer out of sex crimes, the skill set you brought alongside the field training you had proved to be vital for the team’s success lately. you were also a great asset to the team. the bau was notorious for having people turnover fast, and you knew they were apprehensive with newcomers. but you managed to hit it off with every single member, one more than others.

spencer reid did not expect someone like you to join the team. not that he didn’t have faith in your talents and skills, he’s read your file and obviously knows you’re more than qualified to be here. he just did not expect someone who looked like you to join the team, someone who didn’t look beaten down by the horrors of the world and still believed in pots of gold at the end of rainbows.

it didn’t help that you were so beautiful he literally would feel his heart ache when you walked in. like literally, would have to rub his chest to soothe the pain. and as spencer would, he would logic out his feelings with science because that’s all they are, scientific chemical reactions in the body. but what he felt in your friendship, what he felt when he was lucky enough to be in your presence, was something no textbook, theorem, or equation could explain.

so imagine the size of the fucking hammer coming down on his head when he finds out you have a boyfriend who: 1. is not him, and 2. is an actual real life bozo.

apparently you’d been seeing damon from organized crime for about a month now, that’s what he heard from penelope, and you ‘claim’ to be super happy.

spencer doesn’t buy it.

he’s seen the way your ‘relationship’ operates, and he’s got the facts to back it up. damon never lets you get a word in when you’re in group settings, even purposefully talking over you when you’re clearly attempting to speak. majority of the time he’s condescending about your job as a profiler for the bau, saying that him and his team bring down drug rings, but you guys ‘just read their horoscope or whatever and decide the killer.’

it made spencer’s blood boil hotter than the sun. he couldn’t figure out why you put up with it, and why you continue to.

the final straw that broke the camel's back about his disapproval on your relationship choices, is what he overheard on the jet one time on the way back from a case.

the girls were talking in the back of the jet, unaware of spencer’s very awake mind despite his visibly sleeping body.

“i don’t know guys,” you had started with a sigh, “you think it’s weird right?”

“that your own boyfriend won’t go down on you? yeah hon, that’s fucking weird.” emily strikes.

“what did he say exactly?” jj asked.

“he said it increases the risk of STIs on the mouth? and doesn’t like the feeling of thighs crushing his head? and that even with all the … grooming … it’s still unnatural ?”

emily gagged while jj continued, “um…but do you like…on him?”

“yes! he literally won’t touch me unless i do!” you rage whisper.

“i am about to give him an organized crime to deal with,” emily half jokes, “what an asshole, why are you still with him?”

“i don’t know, he’s still nice to me i guess, and maybe i’m just being dramatic. or maybe i’m just not someone people go down on, who knows.” you sigh.

spencer stops listening, he can’t hear you talk so poorly of yourself. not when it’s so far from the truth yet you’ve been indoctrinated to think it’s accurate. how anyone could take advantage of you like that is beyond him, but it did light a fire inside of him and made him determined to help you realize you deserve so much better. if that happens to be him, then who is he to fight that?

—

spencer doesn’t get his chance to prove it to you for another two weeks, when you’d come over to his apartment for a movie night after getting in a fight with damon, your date night being canceled and leading you to spencer’s doorsteps, all dolled up with tears lining your eyes asking to come in.

he doesn’t even have time to be mad at your shithole boyfriend when he’s ushering you inside, offering you to sit on the couch while he goes and put a kettle on the stove for tea.

“i’m really sorry to just show up like this, spence.”

he doesn’t even blink before calling out from the kitchen, “don’t apologize, i’m always here for you. anytime and anywhere.”

you give him a soft smile before returning your gaze to the soft glow of doctor who.

he returns cradling two mugs in one hand and a pack of haribo gummies in the other. spencer doesn’t care for gummies, he’s more of a chocolate guy, but he knows it’s your favorite. so he makes sure to keep a couple bags in his apartment for you.

“my favorite!” you gush. his heart warms at your smile as he sits next to you on the couch. you naturally gravitate towards him to lean your head on his shoulder, and it’s automatic for spencer to wrap an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer.

the whirs and whooshes of the tardis fill the silence for the next hour as you visibly become calmer than when you first arrived. he decides this is a good time to ask, “do you want to talk about it?” as he turns his head to look at you.

“i don’t know,” you say quietly popping another gummy in, “i’m starting to believe it's just a me problem. like, maybe i’m just objectively not a great partner, and that’s why we keep getting in these fights. you know this time, he said i’m not worth all the effort and stress i bring him and that because of me he’s gonna bald at 29? i’m not a scientist like you or anything but even i know that, at least, can’t be my fault.” you end with a chuckle.

spencer knows he should probably comfort you in this time of honesty you’ve graced him with, squash your insecurities like a pesky bug on the windshield, and tell you how beautiful you are in as many words it’ll take for you to believe it (and he knows a lot of words).

but right now? he’s just fucking pissed.

not at you, never at you. at your situation, yes. at that sorry excuse of a partner let alone agent, immensely.

so he can’t help what escapes his mouth next, “why do you let yourself get treated like shit?”

you look up at him in surprise, at both the cursing and what he said, “what?”

“you’re constantly talking about how awful he treats you, and yet everyday you still go back to him knowing it’s going to repeat the next day. i just want to know why you don’t respect yourself enough to not let that happen to you.”

pulling away to sit far from him on the couch, you start letting the annoyance show on your face, “spencer, that’s not fair at all. you think it’s my fault? do you really think i want to feel like this?”

“yes!” he shouts, “you seem like you do with how much you crawl back to him everytime, and everytime you let him back in.”

“okay, i think i should go,” you stand up and grab your things, “it was a mistake to come here, goodbye spencer.”

he grabs your wrist before you can get too far, “i just have to know, what is it?”

“what’s what spence, let me go.”

“what keeps you going back to him, it can’t be because you love him. it’s obviously not because you’re happy with him,” he lets out.

“you don’t know anything about me or my life, spencer!” you snatch away your arm and start heading towards the door.

“it’s definitely not because the sex is good, because i know it’s not.”

any emotion you had on your face wipes away like an etch a sketch, staring blankly at the door, hearing the man you’ve harbored a crush on since you started at the bureau years ago, telling you he knows your sex life is abysmal.

your voice comes out small, “h- how would you know that?” you don’t dare to turn around, knowing that if you did any resolve you held onto, any denial of emotions you’ve stripped from yourself would come pouring out like a broken dam.

the couch groans at a loss of weight, and the floorboards creak closer and closer to you.

“i heard you, on the jet.”

you’re especially glad he can’t see the blood draining from your face. if your heart already wasn’t at your feet, it’s most likely six feet under at this point.

he heard you?

“when you were talking with the others about how he doesn’t reciprocate, and won’t sleep with you unless you get him off.” he continues.

the room is getting hotter by the millisecond, temperature about to be comparable to the sun’s core. it’s one thing to have just anyone hear the intimate details of your life, but spencer? the man to which you’d been using damon to get over?

the only sound that can be heard is your increasingly heavy breathing, and spencer feels like he’s caught a fish on his line and is ready to reel you in as he inches closer to you.

“you’re okay with that? not being taken care of in the way you deserve?”

his presence is merely nanometers behind you, the ghost of his fingers looking for landing on your hips. when you don’t move away, and he hears your breath hitch at the contact, he sets his hands more earnestly on your curves as he leans down to the nape of your neck.

“just don’t know,” kiss, “how anyone,” kiss, “wouldn’t want,” kiss, “to give you everything.” kiss.

your head lolls back onto his firm chest as he whispers in your ear, “cat got your tongue, sweetheart? you were so mouthy not even five minutes ago. be honest with me, has he even ever made you come?”

the whimpers escape you without warning and you find a single decibel of voice to speak, “spencer…” hoping the whine would dissuade him to let it go.

“uh uh, i asked you a question,” his arm tightens around the front of your waist to press back and fully feel him, “answer me.”

your lexicon has depleted except for the one word you know he’s desperately waiting for you to say, and the one he knows is the answer. yet you know the second it leaves your mouth, everything changes. and maybe you’re okay with that.

“no.”

spencer hums lowly, “has anyone made you come?”

“no.” you say again, softer this time.

“should we change that?”

this was not what you expected when you came to see him after your failed night out. the amount of processing you’d done in the last year to essentially not be thinking about spencer 24/7 was extensive. and you were ready to render it all useless in a matter of seconds.

so you let the strap of your bag fall down your arm and hit the ground with a thud, and finally turned around to look the good doctor in his eyes. while his voice held traces of anger and frustration, you came to see his eyes were full of reassurance and comfort, the spence you always knew to prioritize your wellbeing more than anything.

he looked down at you and slid his hand to up to cup your jaw, and he hears the smallest murmur, so delicate yet so full of want leave your lips.

“yes.”

that was all spencer needed to catch your lips in a heated kiss, moving your body to the closest wall as he places a hand behind your head to protect you from the wall’s impact while the other pins your waist to the wall.

you move your arms to wrap around his neck and keep him pinned to you with no escape, like he’d ever want to. his lips detach from yours and make a descent towards your neck again, taking deliberate effort to locate the sensitive spots.

he finds one just behind your ear and spends time sucking and bruising up the spot, relishing in the soft whimpers leaving your mouth. while you’re lost in the sensation on your neck, you don’t notice spencer move one of his hands closer to the button of your pants, effortlessly (and impressively) opening it up.

detaching from your neck with a heavy pant, he moves back to lean against your forehead with his own and look you in the eyes to ask, “is this okay? we can stop if you want, i didn’t mean to be so forw-“

“please don’t stop.”

he searches your eyes for any conflict and finds none, considering it the okay to continue his downward descent. he returns his lips to the second home they’ve made on your lips and starts to push your pants down over the curve of your ass, leaving your panties on.

the flash of purple lace underwear glares at him when he glances down, and suddenly he remembers what got him in this position in the first place.

“were you wearing this for him?” he lets out condescendingly, “you really think he deserved to see you like this?”

spencer’s fingers brush against your front, leaving your heavy breaths hitting him in the face. you can’t think of anything to say. hell, you’re not even sure if you know any words right now. all you can offer is a pathetic moan, and spencer doesn’t think that’s enough.

“come on, don’t get all shy now. what were you expecting him to even do, hm? thought you said he didn’t care about making you feel good.” he taunts as his middle finger traces the outlines of your cunt through your panties.

you shudder at the contact, leaning your head back against the wall as he refuses to break eye contact. he’s waiting for you to say something, raising his eyebrows expectantly as he’s slowed down his movements on you. taking a shallow breath you open your mouth, “h-, he didn’t care, just thought if i ke-, kept looking nice he’d wanna, fuck, do something.” you moan out.

“and did he?” he moved his hand back up to slowly slip into your panties.

his finger dips all the way down to your entrance to gather your wetness and spread it all the way back up to your clit, your mouth dropping open as you let out a whiny, “no.”

“what a shame.” he dips a finger into your hole and you let out a pornographic moan.

he drags his finger in and out slowly making sure to watch your face as it contorts in pleasure. once he feels you’ve gotten used to it he slips in a second finger, increasing the pace and moving his thumb to circle your clit again.

“oh fuck,” you cry.

“baby, you’re so tight.” he whispers. the way you clenched around his two digits made feel almost pussy drunk, and he wasn’t even inside you yet. he starts to wonder if damon was doing anything really to prioritize your pleasure, and it only just worked him up more. he felt more determined to bring you to finish, so he picks up the pace and increases the pressure on your clit.

you drop your head to his shoulder no longer being able to hold yourself up anymore, the sensation of his fingers on you taking over, loose whimpers and moans falling out of your mouth every other second.

“spencer…shit, i’m gonna come…”

“let go for me, baby.” he whispers in your ear.

the pleasure barrels through you like a wrecking ball, knocking the wind out of your mind and body. your legs turn into jelly and you almost fall before spencer holds you up. you try to regulate your breathing into his shoulder, hoping to calm down before you look up and meet his eyes again.

he makes that choice for you when he gingerly lifts your head up, his eyes silently asking if you’re okay. you don’t even bother responding before softly pressing your lips to his again, hoping he can feel your response to his silent question.

the kiss picks up in urgency, and soon his hands are back to exploring your body again. they slide down to the backs of your thighs while he murmurs a small, “jump.” and lifts you to wrap your legs around his waist. without breaking the kiss he walks you both to his bedroom and places you on his bed with care.

his fists flank you on both sides as he leans down to kiss you, and he moves further down kissing along your neck and chest. you reach down to the bottom of your top to pull it over your head, leaving you in the purple lacy bra that matches your panties.

he detaches from you and stands at full height, gazing at the sight of you spread out on his bed with your hair framing you like a halo. he can’t even help himself when he says, “you look so beautiful, angel.” the blush rises to your cheeks, and you beckon him to come back down to which he happily obliges.

spencer moves down further towards your hips, and his lips ghost over the lace band spreading along your waist. his fingers play with the fabric and he moves his face to be directly in line with your clothed cunt. your breathing gets heavy, and you anticipate what he’s about to do.

“wait, you don’t, you don’t have to do that, spence. i already came.” starting to feel a bit guilty at the man above you potentially feeling obligated to do this, as you realize that if he heard you on the jet, he heard about the one thing damon refused to do for you.

“sweetheart, i’d love to keep making you feel good as long as you let me, okay? you gonna let me make you feel good?” he breaths, pressing chaste kisses to your inner thighs.

you give a slight nod and he gently pulls your panties off your legs, marveling at the light glistening off your cunt. he kisses up the plush of your thighs before pausing right where you need him the most. you look down at him and meet his unwavering eyes full of love.

he places a long kiss to your core before licking a long stripe. you moan out languishly, the euphoric feeling taking over every sense in your body. you’re unable to comprehend how you went so long without feeling this, it almost feels criminal. and the way spencer was eating you out, felt like this was doing it for him too even though you were the one getting pleasured.

it turned you on even more to know he was getting off on how much you were enjoying this. your head was spinning off into another realm, and the only thing tethering you to this reality was the grip of your hands in his hair. his tongue made circles and shapes all over your cunt before dipping down to thrust into your hole.

your thighs shake and threaten to clamp shut on his head, and he uses his wide hands to wrap around your thighs to hold them in place. “oh my god fuck, that feels so good…spence…please..” you’re not even sure what you’re begging for, but of course, spencer does when he adds a finger into your hole and moves his tongue to focus back on your clit. the combined sensations were enough to tip you over the edge for the second time tonight, your release glistening on his chin as he moved back up to kiss your lips again.

your heavy panting tries to bring you back down from your high, a mix of sweat and the taste of you lingering everywhere.

spencer smooths your hair back as he moves his body to lie next to you, “i think, damon’s a fucking loser, if he doesn’t think that’s worth doing.” he says between pants.

you hum in agreement, or just in acknowledgement at whatever he said since you’re still reeling from the endorphin release. hiking your leg over his body to straddle him, you clumsily reach for his belt and attempt to undo the clasps to reach his growing member. you pull his pants down and palm him through his boxers, reveling in the broken moans falling from his mouth. you start inching downwards when spencer grabs you by the forearms and flips you over so you’re back on the bed staring up at him.

“not tonight, sweetheart. it’s about you right now, wanna make sure you know what you deserve.”

“but…” you pathetically respond.

“i don’t know what that neanderthal tells you, but sex is not transactional. i think if i ever see that guy again, i’d punch him for making you think otherwise.”

the words go straight to your core, turning you on even more. spencer takes note of how your pupils widen and your chin tilts up towards him.

“besides,” he presses his crotch to yours, “the sex wasn’t even that good with him, right?”

you moan out again, unable to find words to satisfy his question. he leans back up and off the bed to fully remove his boxers and you finally get a good look at what was underneath.

holy fuck, he was huge. you propped yourself on your forearms to get a better look at him, and watched as he lazily stroked himself while he sauntered back over to you. the image was so lewd, you hoped you could borrow some of his eidetic memory so you could hold on to this moment forever.

his face held a smug smirk at your awestruck one, and he felt his ego inflate even higher, “by the looks of your reaction, i’m guessing he’s never been much of a, challenge, for you in bed has he?”

you dumbly shake your head no, “definitely not as big as you.” you whisper, more to yourself than him.

his smirk grows wider, “don’t worry, baby, i’ll take real good care of you.” he says as he climbs over you to line himself up to your entrance.

you feel him slowly start to push in, the sensation of being split open growing bigger by the second. your brows furrow and your eyes are shut tight as you wait for the pressure to turn into pleasure.

if spencer thought you around his fingers had him pussydrunk, what he’s feeling now has to be close to pussy poisoning or something because he cannot think of anything in existence that feels as good as the walls of your cunt clenching around his cock. it’s taking everything in him to not break, to just fuck you senseless and reach his peak.

once his hips are flush with yours and he’s fully settled within you, he waits for you to give him the okay to move.

you, on the other hand, have never felt more full ever. damon was not nearly this big, nor has any other guy you’ve been with. it’s a bit of a miracle on how it fit inside you, and how it felt better than anything you could’ve imagined. the pressure and slight pain subsides, and with a slight nod spencer takes the cue to start moving.

the first thrust has you both moaning out in harmony together, and he sets the pace nice and slow so as to make sure you’re comfortable.

but it's not enough for you, you need him to fuck you.

“spence…harder.”

he stills at your word, leaning up so he’s perpendicular to you.

“whatever you say, princess.”

and he starts pounding into you, hips rutting at a pace you can’t even keep up with. the whimpers and moans gush out as the familiar coil begins to build within you. he taps your leg to lift it up over his shoulder to allow him deeper access, and he’s able to reach that one spot you’d heard about from all your friends, on reddit, in movies. you had no idea this type of feeling even existed, and spencer was hitting it with precision every single thrust over and over.

“fuck,” you whine.

“that feel good, baby?” he teases, “the way you’re squeezing my cock so tight, i doubt that fucker ever made you feel like this, huh?”

your tits bounce with every thrust, and the deepened angle has you reaching your climax fast. spencer feels it too and drops his head to whisper in your ear.

“i bet he’s never fucked you like this,” he continues his taunt, “he’d never be able to fuck you like i can, make you come three times in one night like i can.”

you whimper, “spencer,”

“say it, sweetheart. say no one’s ever fucked you like me.”

he was trying to kill you, death during intercourse would be a crazy way to go out but it’s a fate you’d be willing to accept. nonetheless, you comply.

“never ever, fuck, been fucked like you, baby.”

spencer has never felt more satisfied, “good girl, now come.” and with a final thrust he lets you reach your peak as he releases himself into you.

in the midst of groans he gingerly pulls out of you and you whimper at the loss.

the next few minutes are just filled with the sounds of yours and his heavy breathing, before spencer leans over to you, “was that too much?”

still in your daze you let out a soft giggle, “spencer, i think you’ve ruined all men for me.”

he smiles back, “i meant what i said, damon’s really stupid if he’s not willing to do all that for you.”

you intertwine your hand with his, “you know, i never really liked him anyway. i was just using him to get over you.”

“me?” he says incredulously.

you nod, “i didn’t know if you would’ve felt the same so i just tried to move on to someone else, stupid i know, but i don’t know it made sense then.”

he pulls you closer to rest in the crevice of his chest, “i have been into you since the day you walked into the bullpen, and letting you slip through my fingers is a mistake i will never make again.”

you hug him tightly before groaning out loud, “shit, i have to tell damon it’s over now don’t i.”

“i mean, i could tell him if you want.”

“spence, no. i think you might kill him.” you laugh, “i can do it, i just don’t want him to get all ‘organized crime’ on me.”

“just tell him i have a gun.”

“so does he?”

“mine’s bigger.” he smirks.

you roll your eyes, “well, yes.”

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kaleldobrev · 2 months

Text

Yes Ma’am

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Plus!Size Reader

Feat. Character(s): Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben, Hughie Campbell, William Butcher & Annie January

Summary: Macho Man Ben never thought he’d ever take orders from a woman; but now he does so with a smile (aka Ben is whipped and he doesn’t care)

Original Request: @spncupcake | I need a Soldier Boy &/or Dean fic where reader is plus sized + gives his attitude right back to him. He only ever listens to her & agrees with her every time. Basically just a whipped little puppy. Everyone teases him, but he doesn’t care because his girl/reader is all he needs 😭 I guess kinda like he’s an asshole to everyone but her kinda vibes 🥵

Not so subtly asking if @kaleldobrev could do this ? 🥺

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Ben, Cursing (13x), Derogatory Language (by Ben), Slightly Offensive Language (by Ben), Whipped!Soldier Boy, Domestic!Ben

Authors Note: Hopefully I got everyone tagged that wanted to be. If I missed you, I'm sorry! I'm working on re-doing the way my tag list is | I hope this came out okay! ♡ | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

A Few Years Ago…

“We need someone to watch Mister Radioactive over here,” Butcher said to you and Hughie. And almost as if it was second nature, Hughie whipped out his hands into a rock, paper, scissors stance; eyes on you, because he knew for a fact that it was either going to be you or him to watch Ben.

You turned your head slightly, watching Ben drinking out of a Seven merch cup, as he watched an old movie of his on the television; scoffing every few seconds every time a member of Payback appeared on screen.

“Can’t believe these are the bozos that gave me up to the Commies. They can’t even make their fucking cues,” he scoffed, mumbling to himself.

Turning back, you looked at Hughie and placed your hand on top of his, pushing it away. “I can do it. No need for rock, paper, scissors,” you said.

Both Butcher and Hughie looked at you with slight confusion. “Really?” The two men said at the same time, exchanging glances before ultimately landing on you.

“Are you at least going to take some Temp V just in case?” Hughie asked; but Butcher didn’t seem amused by his suggestion, as he gave him a very dirty, displeased look as if to say, ‘That is the stupidest fucking thing you’ve ever said.’ “He could kill you.”

“I doubt that he would. I mean, look at him. He’s literally just watching one of his old cheesy movies. ‘Sides, I’m the only person he remotely listens to anyway,” your tone slightly smug in nature. But your comment caused Butcher to scoff. “What?”

“Sweetheart, he doesn’t listen to anyone,” he stated, not even trying to be covert.

You raised a brow. “Oh really?” You crossed your arms and smirked. “Hey Ben? Can you turn down the volume a bit? It’s a little loud,” you said, without even looking at him.

In a matter of seconds, Butcher and Hughie watched Ben pick up the remote that was next to him on the armrest as he slowly started turning down the volume. “Better?” He asked, unfazed.

“Yes, thank you,” you smiled.

Butcher scoffed. “I’m sure he’d turn it down if me or Hughie asked him to.”

“Then why don’t you give it a try to try and prove me wrong.” Your voice was smug, and your smirk remained, as you knew for an absolute fact that Ben wouldn’t listen to either one of them.

Butcher smacked Hughie, and pointed to Ben. “Um…hey, can you…can you turn that down?” Hughie asked nervously.

“Fuck off,” was all Ben said to Hughie’s request. His comment caused Butcher to roll his eyes.

“Fine. But don’t come crying to one of us when he ain’t listenin’ to ya,” Butcher smirked.

Present Day…

“Ben?” You asked, trying your best to reach the plate from the top shelf, but it was just out of your reach.

“Yeah?” Ben asked, faintly in the distance.

“Need your help! Can’t reach!” You yelled back.

Within a few seconds you heard Ben come walking into the kitchen from behind you; a faint scoff could be heard from his lips. “You’re so fucking short,” he commented. You turned around, and glared at him; and he knew exactly what that look from you meant. “Sorry, sorry,” he said, not meaning his apology whatsoever. “Now scoot,” his tone a little demanding.

You moved over, and watched him effortlessly reach the plate from the top shelf, handing it to you with the biggest smirk on his face. As you went to reach for the plate, he snatched it quickly away. “What do you say?” He smirked; his comment causing your eyes to roll.

“Thank you,” you said, your tone matching his sorry. Again, you reached for the plate, and yet, he still kept it from your reach. “Oh, how could I ever forget!?” Your voice now sarcastic, with a mix of annoyance. You went onto your tippy toes to the best of your ability, and he leaned down a bit to reach your lips, where you were able to give him a quick peck.

“That’s better,” he winked, handing you the plate.

“Remember, Annie and Hughie are coming over later,” you reminded. You didn’t have to look in Ben’s direction to know how much he hated the idea of the two of them coming over. “It’ll be fun.”

“Fun for you, torture for me,” he said, walking back into the living room and plopping onto the couch.

“They aren’t that bad Ben,” you said as you went to lean in the doorway that was between the kitchen and the living room. “‘Sides, I thought the three of you were finally finding some common ground?”

Ben scoffed. “Common ground my ass,” he mumbled. “I hate them, and they hate me.”

“They don’t hate you Ben, you just think that they do,” you tried to reassure. And your reassurance was genuine as you knew that neither Annie or Hughie hated Ben. Yes, maybe they disliked him a bit cause he was still a Grade A asshole to anyone but you, but they do what friends do and have supported yours and Ben’s relationship because they know how happy not only you are, but Ben is even if he didn’t show it in front of them.

Ben didn’t even answer you, he just simply scoffed again. “Can you still do the ribs for tonight please? I mean I can do the grill, but I much prefer when you make them,” you said sweetly.

Ben rolled his eyes, sighing. “Yes, I can still do the fucking ribs.”

A Few Hours Later…

“Are you sure that it’s too late to cancel?” Hughie asked, as him and Annie shut their car doors at the exact same time.

“Yes, we promised Y/N weeks ago that we’d come over,” Annie said. “Besides, I even made my Nana’s pecan pie for the occasion because Y/N mentioned that Ben likes it.”

“If you’re hoping for brownie points with Solider Boy, I’m not sure pie is going to do it. Maybe we should have brought some expired Aspirin or coke from CIA lockup,” Hughie said half joking.

“Very funny,” Annie said very unamused by her fiancés comment. “I’m sure tonight won’t be that bad.”

“At least one of us is positive,” Hughie replied.

There was a knock at the door, and your face lit up with excitement. “Ben? Can you grab the door please? I’m taking the pie out of the oven!” You called out as you started opening up the oven door.

“Sure thing!” Ben called out in a weirdly good mood sounding voice that threw you off. Yes you’ve heard him in a good mood before (he’s basically always in a good mood whenever you were around), but you were surprised just now because Annie and Hughie weren’t particularly his favorite people (or so he says). But you shrugged it off, happy that maybe he changed his mind about them.

As soon as Ben opened the door, his once calm and cheerful mood diminished once he saw Annie and Hughie at the door. “Lite Brite. Pussy. Welcome,” Ben said, in the most monotone voice he could muster up.

“I brought my Nana’s pecan pie,” Annie smiled, showing Ben the foil wrapped container. “Heard it was your favorite.”

“Y/N already made one,” Ben scoffed. Annie lowered the container in a kind of defeated way before she looked over at Hughie.

“Thanks for having us.” Hughie tried his best to sound genuine, but he knew that Ben would be able to hear right through it.

“If it were up to me, neither one of you would be here.” Ben’s tone continued to be monotone.

“I’m gonna go see if Y/N needs any help,” Annie offered. But before she could even enter the doorway, Ben stopped her, and took the pie from her hands, giving her a small nod. Was that…approval? Annie thought. No, I must be delusional, she thought again.

As Annie managed to get past Ben after her pie was taken from her, it was Hughie’s turn to try and get inside, but Ben blocked the way. “Sorry, I don’t have a pie to offer you,” Hughie chuckled.

Ben fake laughed, and placed his hand on Hughie’s shoulder. “No problem, pal,” emphasizing the word as he gave his shoulder a slight squeeze.

“Ow,” Hughie mumbled.

“Fucking pussy,” Ben mumbled, before letting Hughie come into the house.

“So, what did he call you two this time?” You asked, grabbing two white claws from the fridge for you and Annie.

“Lite Brite and Pussy,” she slightly chuckled. “Not really creative.”

“Ben’s not really the creative type,” you laughed back.

“So, tell me, have you and Hughie set a wedding date yet?” You asked, and Annie smiled.

“So, we haven’t set a wedding date yet,” Hughie said, his voice nervous as he watched Ben start flipping through channels trying to find something to watch.

“And why the fuck are you telling me?” Ben asked, finally deciding on a hockey game to watch.

“I uh, I figured Y/N mentioned it to you,” his voice still nervous.

“She did,” was all Ben said, taking a sip of beer.

“Jesus Christ, it’s like talking to a brick wall,” Hughie mumbled to himself. “I’m gonna go see Y/N and Annie.”

“Alright lady boy,” Ben mumbled not so subtly.

“I’m O for two,” Hughie said as he walked into the kitchen where you and Annie were.

“What was the other one?” You asked.

“Lady Boy,” Hughie said, his voice weirdly calm.

“Well, that’s a new one,” you remarked, taking a sip of your white claw. “Ben?”

“What?” Ben asked, clearly annoyed.

“Did you call Hughie, Lady Boy?” You asked.

“Yeah, what about it? Is he crying about it already?” Ben asked, still unfazed; but you could hear a slight smirk on his lips.

“No, was just wondering,” you said.

That’s when Ben sighed. Because the only reason he knew you were asking, was because he somehow did or said something he wasn’t supposed to. But it wasn’t his fault that his girlfriend’s friend always took things the wrong way and didn’t have a sense of humor. “Sorry Puss—Hughie,” Ben said, saying Hughie’s name through gritted teeth.

After Ben apologized (fakely), you turned your attention back to Hughie. “I think that’s the best one you’re gonna get.”

“Pain in my fucking ass,” Ben mumbled.

“What did you say?” You asked, although you heard him loud and clear, as his mumbling and whispering really weren’t low.

“I said, you’re a pain in my fucking ass,” Ben said at normal volume.

You cleared your throat before you spoke. “Come again?” Your tone in full sass mode.

“Fucking Christ,” he mumbled. “I said I love you.”

“I love you too!” You smirked, finishing your white claw.

“Butcher was right. Soldier Boy really is whipped,” Hughie said with slight amusement in his voice.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Ben asked, his tone aggressive as he looked over at Hughie. Hughie’s demeanor now changed, and it resembled that of a scared puppy.

“N-nothing. I said nothing,” he answered quickly and nervously.

“That’s what I fucking thought,” Ben smirked, giving him a quick nod before looking back at the hockey game. “Four and zero, fucking unbelievable.”

“You didn’t say anything wrong. I really do have him wrapped around my finger,” you whispered to Hughie, even though you knew Ben was still able to hear you.

If I missed you, my apologies! I was either not able to tag you because the tumblr username is no longer the one you use when you submitted a tag form, or you do not have your mentions on. Please make sure you’re able to be tagged so you don’t miss anything you’d like to be tagged on! 💙 I also in the process of re-doing my tag list, so stay tuned for that!

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #the boys #the boys imagine #the boys one shot #the boys oneshot #ben x you #ben x reader #reader insert #female reader #the boys amazon

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artyandink · 3 months

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amoralism | two

Summary: You and Dean Winchester are the top agents from Major Crimes. You’re also assigned as partners on the same case- a crime syndicate is running loose and buying out most of downtown New York. He hates you cause you hate him. You hate him cause you think he got in his position with his daddy’s influence. But this case is personal to one of you more than the other- and you may be getting too personal for comfort.

TW: Blood, firearms, organised crime, talk of drugs, Agent Dean Winchester, sexual tension, wet dream, awkwardness, unsupportive mom, dramatic sister, consensual crime

SERIES MASTERLIST

Song Inspo: People I Don’t Like - UPSAHL

materialism

Family dinners took the hell out of you.

They were so awkward, and for what? It was a few hours of pushing food around plates, unwanted conversations and criticisms about your home life and job. Of course your mom wasn’t proud that you were FBI. Were they slightly averse because she carries a truckload of deep seated traditionalism? Definitely.

Your mom, Elena, took a pointed bite of salad as she flitted her eyes disapprovingly between you, your slouching and your less than socially satisfactory manner of eating. Practically assaulting your food with a well timed fork stab and shovelling it in your mouth.

You were a federal agent, not a damn princess.

At least your younger sister had gone to deb balls and beauty pageants and gotten married fresh out of college and landed a job as a secretary for a wealthy CEO in Delaware while you apparently ‘slum it’ and put serial killers behind bars.

Putting your life on the line to make your country a better place. Totally something undesirable, a horrible job, only bozos and hobos would do it.

Your dad, Richard (but he had everyone call him Rick, your mom never listened), was proud of you. More proud than he could put into words. He’d once come to visit you after work to congratulate you on a case that you’d solved (confidential, of course), and his heart burst with pride upon seeing his little girl dressed in a formal suit and storing her government approved handgun.

“Darling?” Your mom trilled in her fancy accent and high pitched voice, which caught your attention. You looked up, halfway through a sip of wine, same as your dad. Holding it wrong. Again, not a princess. “When will you be getting married?”

You almost did a spit take, but swallowed so it wouldn’t happen and coughed as it almost went down the wrong way, Rick doing the same at the exact same time. Your sister, Cassie (short for Cassandra), glanced between the two of you with a look of judgement identical to your mom’s.

They were carbon copies of each other. Same with you and your dad.

“M-Marriage?” You spluttered, still recovering from the notes of chamomile that stung at the back of your throat. Chamomile’s meant to be soothing. “I-I’m a federal - ahem - agent, I don’t have t-time to-” You cleared your throat loudly, “- marry.”

Your mom scoffed, waving you off with a manicured hand. “You blab on about this federal agent business, but we have no clue what kind of cases you deal with.”

“Honey, we can’t push her.” Your dad vouched, and you internally cheered him on, swallowing down a sharp retort with a shovelling down of spaghetti that earned you an eye roll from Cassie and an exasperated sigh from Elena. “Her work is classified.”

“Classified from her family?”

“That’s generally what it means.” You added with a clearing of your throat. “A brief overview of my work in Major Crimes is literally the major crimes. Serial killers, mob bosses, organised crime.”

Your mom gave a loud, false laugh. “Hush, hush. Mafias only occur in dramatised television shows and movies.”

“Elena, you should be proud of our daughter.” Rick sighed, pointedly staring at his wife. “She works to keep everyone safe. Debutante balls and beauty pageants aren’t all the glory.”

And now Cassie was throwing a fit, her blonde hair almost torn out by her pink-painted claws. Jesus, if you went into the office with those monsters? You didn’t even wanna know.

While your mom ticked off your dad for saying such an insensitive thing, you nudged his foot with yours as a silent thank you for defending him. And his foot tapped yours back as if to say don’t apologise.

God, you cherished your dad.

“Don’t pay attention to your mother.” He’d told you in a calm, soft voice as you two steadily worked on the dishes, the quiet noise of the sponge spreading soap suds on the plate not the best ambience but alright all the same. “She’s a little dramatic.”

You raised an eyebrow, getting the itch out from just above your eyebrow using the back of your hand. “A little?”

Rick shrugged, then chuckled. “Alright, you got me there. She’s extremely dramatic. But she’s my wife, and I love her, regardless of whether I think she should take up a role in Broadway.”

“Or a soap opera.” You both shared a laugh, but then you subsided into a rather wistful state of mind. “I just want her to understand that even though I can’t talk about it, I still do something worthy of recognising, right? I mean, not everyone can say they’re one of the best agents Major Crimes has to offer.”

“She’ll come around.” Rick planted a kiss on your temple that felt a little scratchy from his stubble. “I’m so proud of you, y’know that? My little girl’s grown up to be an incredible woman.”

Your phone rang, and you shook your hands off, towelling them before taking out your phone and picking up the call.

‘Took you long enough, princess.’ Agent Winchester’s voice came from the other line, and seems like your dad heard a man’s voice, because his eyebrow raised past what was the beginning of his receding hairline. Princess. It took you back to the night you had your first wet daydream of your case partner, Dean goddamn Winchester, three years ago, working the very case you both were heading now.

Except with much higher stakes.

“You’re far from on my priority list, Agent.” You huffed out a breath, mouthing to your dad to behave as you knew he had the strong urge to find out who exactly you were talking to. And if there was a possibility that he’d need to grab his baseball bat and go warn this guy off breaking your heart.

Federal agent or not, he’d do it. He’d do anything to keep his daughter safe.

‘You’re gonna break this young man’s heart.’

“We’re 35.”

‘Exactly. Young.’ His tone sounded like he was holding off laughter, adopting a voice which resembled Mrs Doubtfire. ‘We’re youthful, innocent little whippersnappers-’

“Agent, if you’re just going to waste my time, you better hang up.” You sighed, rubbing your forehead. Your dad gave you a look which said damn, don’t do him like that. In truth, neither of you were exactly innocent. You had unholy, R-rated thoughts of each other every time you did so much as think of each other.

You definitely wanted to do him.

You heard Dean clear his throat, getting back on track. ‘Right. Yeah. So, there’s some of our double agents in crime circles that reported back to me after I dropped ‘em a little message. They’re sayin’ that there’s an auction happening at a charity gala in a week, and they’re pawning off this necklace-’

“Yeah, you’re wasting my time.” You scoffed, wondering why he was into getting jewellery. Unless it was to pacify a girl he two timed. Then again, he could probably do it with his panty-soaking, money-winning grin, smooth winks and some cheap pickup line he stole off the Internet.

‘Hey, let me finish. The necklace has a USB chip inside. It contains videos of our syndicate’s work, so if we get a hand on that, we know what we’re dealing with.’ He chuckled at his own brilliance, making you roll your eyes at his ego. ‘And, uh, you’re about to pick apart and criticise my plan by saying that there’s no way in hell that we have the money to buy that thing, so… I talked to Director Singer, and he had a chat with the board and they gave us a pass for as many consensual crimes as needed.’

“So, where do we factor in all this?” You asked, making a mental note of everything he was telling you.

‘That’s the fun part. We got invites to that event, so we’re gonna go together as a doting, wealthy married couple and steal it.’

“It’s not my first undercover gig, so as long as we don’t run into any complications, it could work.”

‘So, I’ll see you at my place tomorrow to discuss logistics. I’ll make sure Sammy- Detective S. Winchester - is out of the house.’

“Alright. Bye.” You cut the call, and spotted your dad smiling proudly at you. His eyes twinkling, and his steady scrubbing hand paused. “What?”

Dean’s back hit the bed, your lips moving up to claim his exposed throat and freckled, exposed chest, making a steady trail to his shoulder and nipping until there was a forming hickey. His breath laboured, mind spinning and body on autopilot. He could feel your nails over his abs, tracing and mapping out every contour, his eyes locking on you, looking like a vision in black lace, a garter and pretty, matching, sheer, thigh-high nylons.

He was always a sucker for a woman in lingerie.

“God, baby, c’mere.” He groaned, hands finding purchase on the backs of your thighs and yanking you forward, settling you closer as his hand teased at the hem of your panties, one sharp flick of his wrist tearing the flimsy material and leaving it beyond repair, drawing a gasp and barely restrained whine from you. He chucked the remains off the bed, that hand, already glistening from having touched your soaked panties, found your cunt, sliding his fingers back and forth before roughly thrusting two up and into your soaked pussy, crooking them just right in order to have you clamping down and already rocking up and down desperately. “So tight. Gonna ride my fingers already, sweetheart?”

“Mmh- mhmm.” Was all you could get out, barely noticing how his free hand reached behind you to unclip your bra, propping himself up so he could latch his mouth onto your nipple and suck, causing you to mewl and let out an even more sinful moan right as his thumb found your clit right as the pad of his index found your g-spot, his third finger joining the party and pressing on it.

Layering and layering and layering until your mind was blank, thighs shaking, mouth open and eyes rolling back until they saw stars and the brief outline of God.

Looks like he does have a beard.

“Dean, g-god-” You were cut off by a moan, biting your lip, and Dean nodded encouragingly, free hand reaching up to cup your cheek, thumbing at your bottom lip to ease it free.

“Waited so long for this.” He murmured. “Gotta hear you. Look so pretty, baby-”

“Dean, wake up!” Dean shot up and spluttered when a glass of ice cold water hit him like a bullet train, finding you to be the perpetrator. No lingerie, just a simple sweater and jeans, your hair pulled into a loose rope braid over your left shoulder.

Still hot. Still infuriating.

“Woah, hey!” He raised his hands in disbelief before running one down his face to rid him of the water dripping down it, then onto his grey-blue flannel shirt. “The hell was that?! And- how did you get in here?”

You put the glass down in frustration, the sound thudding against Dean’s oak dining table, partially wet from the thrown water. “Sam let me in.”

“Doesn’t answer my first question.”

“You’d been passed out at that table when I got here. Tried to wake you up fifty ways. You sleep like a rhino.” You scoffed, but your eyes couldn’t help but trail down to the way the water traced his jaw, down to the curve of his neck and beneath the neckline of his shirt, which exposed a hint of defined collarbone. You felt like an eleven year old seeing a man shirtless for the first time. Except you were going feral for a fleeting glimpse of your colleague’s collarbone, watching the way his flannel clung to his frame.

You were beginning to get the tantalising thought of seeing Dean, washing that gorgeous ‘67 Chevy Impala of his. Shirt off, water dripping down his bare torso and giving you an illegal hit of his v-line. And his abs, tracing every contour that you knew was there. It had your body warming up and your thighs clenching and rubbing.

You hoped to God that Dean didn’t see you doing that.

So instead, you took a random kitchen towel and threw it so it hit him right in the face, and he flinched, grabbing the towel off his face and rubbing the water off in a disgruntled fashion as you moved to grab a beer from the fridge. He was irritated beyond belief. He knew you two had unresolved sexual tension that went back in the history books about five years but that was uncalled for. He was your partner on this mole case, and was heading an organised crime case with you, he deserved some respect-

Your ass framed by those jeans. The denim clinging to your legs that went on for days. Goddamn days, ending in sensible lace-up boots. That sweater with a scoop neckline. Your ass in those jeans, the curve of your pretty neck, the pout of those plump lips. Did he mention your ass in those jeans?

Suddenly he didn’t feel so vexed. And… respect? Who needs respect? Who needs… goddamn. Who… needs…

No thoughts. Head empty.

Sweet Jesus.

“What did you say?” Your head turned to face him, eyebrow raised in the middle of sipping your beer, and he realised that he’d muttered that out loud (while also realising he was staring at your lips touching that bottle rim. He’d never wanted to be a glass bottle more in his life.). He snapped out of it, blotting his flannel gingerly with the towel. Missing the way your eyes locked on how it pressed flush against his chest (you’d never wanted to be a plaid shirt in your life, but times seem to change).

“Nothin’, Agent.” Dean cleared his throat, shaking his head to rid him of the bad, bad, unprofessional thoughts clouding his head. But god, did he need you bad.

He might get through a whole box of tissues tonight.

“Kyle, what do you mean, you don’t know how to use a washing machine?” You asked with a scoff, phone wedged between your shoulder and ear as you spoke to your cousin Kyle, who was in college. Of course, it was the first time he’d ever worked a washing machine on his own and of course, you were the first one he called.

‘It’s not something I’m used to, ok?’ He was scared of your mom, his mom (your aunt Olivia) and Cassie, and you taught your dad and his dad - uncle Tom - how to use the washing machine so Elena wouldn’t go on a rant about men’s uselessness when it comes to household chores.

You took out a paper and pen, writing down a list of instructions as quickly as you could in your nearest handwriting possible, and then you put your phone on speaker, snapped a photo and sent it. “There. All set. I’ll write up a small guide on how to work the rest of your appliances, I’m just knees deep in an investigation.”

‘You’re a lifesaver, I’m indebted to you for the rest of my life.’

“This is a washing machine, not selling your soul. You don’t owe me. Now, see you on Thanksgiving. Bye, Kyle.” You cut the call in time for the doorbell to ring, and you rolled your eyes.

You get no breaks nowadays.

But when you opened the door, you were met with pearly way-too-whites, bouncing ginger hair and shiny blue eyes, complete with what looked like five neon-coloured dress carriers. “Why hello there, babes!” She trilled, sashaying in with her faux fur-trim coat. You rolled your eyes again, but playfully and partially in relief. “I got your message and came as quick as I could.”

“Hey, Dré.” You smiled wearily, closing the door behind her. Andréa May-Reynolds was your best friend since the early days of high school and probably the only person you could tolerate who cared that inexplicably much about their looks. You’d texted her for help with the dress picking for your undercover gig (but you told her it was merely one of your mom’s gatherings as she was a socialite). “Thanks for coming, exorcism I texted you ten minutes ago.”

She waved you off, tutting rapidly. “It’s my job. Whenever a friend has a fashion emergency, I need to be there.” Andréa started rifling through the clothes options she brought. “Ok, so, you mentioned a plus one. Who is he, cause we need to decide whether we want the option Lukewarm, Getting Warmer, Pretty Warm or Smoking Hot.”

You knew that she knew the name you were about to say, so you said it. “Dean Winchester.”

You almost pulled out your firearm with the scream she let out.

“God, Andréa!” You hissed, rubbing your ear while Andréa searched through her selection and pulled out one bright red case.

She just squealed again, giggling. “Dean Winchester? Never thought I’d hear that name again. Smoking Hot ain’t gonna cut it for him, you need the Nuclear option.”

“There’s a nuclear option now?”

“Duh.” She ceremoniously yanked out a dress and held it out for you. “Try it on.”

You took the dress from her with a raised eyebrow and disappeared off into your bedroom upstairs to change. When you looked yourself in the mirror with the dress on, you didn’t recognise yourself. In all honesty, you probably looked ridiculous.

But when you made your way downstairs, trying not to trip on the fabric, you almost did fall when you heard Andréa’s shrill shriek of delight.

Jesus, you thought as you grabbed the railing, she’ll be the death of me.

“Sammy.” Dean had hurried over to Sam’s place, knocking rapidly on the door while holding a lot of tux choices. “Sammy, open up, it’s me! Dean.”

Sam opened the door with a bleary eye, rubbing it. “Dean, it’s ten in the night- Jess, hon, it’s just Dean!” He called back to Jess, who appeared in the doorway with a nightgown on. “I’ll come back in a minute.” Once Jess had returned to bed, Sam turned to his older brother. “What?”

“Which one?” Dean held up the options, looking between them. “I don’t see the difference, but I thought you would. You’re fancy, I just pick what I see first in the closet.”

“You’re hopeless.” The younger Winchester groaned, rubbing his cheek before gesturing to the options. “It’s an undercover gala, you don’t need to properly think about what to wear.”

“I don’t give a damn about the gala, I hate those fancy schmancy, pretentious excuses of a party. They don’t even have beer.” Dean smirked, then chuckled deep. “It’s about who’s going. Agent Hot Chick.”

“We’re still using that code name?” Sam frowned, hands now on his hips. “She’s our coworker.”

“She’s our smokin’ hot coworker.” Dean waggled his eyebrows and dumped the options on the sofa. “Pick one. C’mon.”

Sam browsed quickly through the options, then picked one out with a low groan. “I need to get paid. Here. Two piece tux, can’t go wrong.”

Dean took the tux, examined it, then hummed. “I can hide my gun in here, right?”

“Yeah. Just take it and go, I want to go to bed. With my wife.”

“Sammy, you sly dog.” He clapped his younger brother’s shoulder. “Well, don’t keep the missus waiting, and I’ll be out of your glorious hair.” Before Sam could react, Dean was out of the door and had left the substandard suits on the couch.

“Glorious hair?” Sam muttered, running a hand through said hair.

He didn’t know what had gotten into his older brother, but he didn’t know whether to be amused or irritated.

Probably both.

The gala itself was nothing short of fancy as hell. Almost like out of a spy movie. Marbled floor, cream walls that looked gold in the lighting, tables of hors d’oeuvres that Dean’s stomach instantly felt a magnetic attraction to.

Fancy snacks are still snacks. Back to the story.

A red carpet that made Dean feel like he was walking in the Met or some movie premiere, with everyone dressed to the nines. Eating snacks.

He popped one into his mouth, chowing down on it and finding that the cheese-based delicacy wasn’t so bad, and he swiped a glass of champagne from a server’s tray in order to blend in.

One sip and he was spluttering, putting it back on a tray again, and that’s when he saw you.

He’d call you a snack, but you were the whole damn buffet.

Dean was pretty sure he was looking at a weapon of mass devastation. To his self control at least - there was a smoking crater in the middle of that. And there were some thoughts in his head that definitely wouldn’t be praised by polite society. He’d be damned for it.

You were clad in dark red silk that melded to your figure, almost like waves on your body, like water. Water had never seemed sexier. Your lips were a shade of scarlet, your clever eyes highlighted by the makeup surrounding it. Your knee just poking out from the slit at the thigh, hands clasped delicately at your midsection.

You looked expensive.

And delicious.

It had Dean’s jaw dropping before he picked it back up, straightening the lapels of his tux and trying to think of non-sexy thoughts so he wouldn’t sport a very visible attraction to his fake wife in polite society. He’d gone the full way, even getting a gold-plated ring so he’d look married and expensive but it also wasn’t too costly. He wasn’t made of money.

He didn’t belong in this party. You definitely did, looking like that.

You were in the very place that you’d been trying to run from again. Fancy parties, posh vocabulary and exaggerated accents. Your mother or Cassie would be a social butterfly in this situation. Not you, you were quaking in your borderline painful heels. Feeling all too out of place in the sweeping curtains, silk, satin and chiffon couture dresses and the gales of fake, exaggerated laughter.

Then there he came, Dean frickin’ Winchester, in a two piece tux. Sure, his bow tie was a little wonky (understatement) but the rest of him had your thighs rubbing together. As usual, he donned a suit that stretched over his well built muscles and gave you a good outline of the contours on his chest, powerful thighs looking good to ride in those trousers. Lips pouting every time he chewed on the delicacy he plucked from a side table and forcing thoughts of those very lips devouring you the same way.

He looked expensive.

He looked irresistible.

The image of the normally cocksure and obnoxiously confident Dean Winchester in high society had you swallowing on a dry throat and thinking un-sexy thoughts to rid you of the incredibly unprofessional ones in your head (one of which included him ripping the dress off your body), all of them sending a quiver down your spine. A very, very good quiver. Oh, god, this wasn’t helping.

You felt out of place here. You didn’t belong here, but Dean certainly did in that getup. You were so absorbed in checking out the stretch of the fabric over his biceps that you missed the way he sipped some champagne and gagged on it.

Then you quickly clacked over in your heels, linking your arm with his to sell the act. “Husband.” You said stiffly, and he nodded back.

“Wife.” He replied, swallowing at the adrenaline rush at having Aphrodite incarnate on his arm. Hell, you might just be Aphrodite in disguise. He could never tell.

“Alright, by inside intel, the necklace is kept upstairs in a six inch safe carbon and iron steel alloy safe with a biometric lock. We have no welders on us, and the case is fingerprint security.” You muttered while crunching a breath mint between your teeth. You never know, the locals may demand a kiss and you’d be damned if you got teased for bad breath.

“And how do you propose we breach that, honey?” Dean got out through a forced smile.

You smirked, the plan in your head. “I’ve got a blush compact in my holster. And a tape roll. We can get the print through that easily enough.”

“That holster deserves a medal.” He murmured to himself, then steered her towards a group. “We need to mingle. We’re not single, but blending in and finding a way to go upstairs is best, if you know what I mean.”

Mhmm. You very much got it, and it thrilled you slightly.

You had no time to dwell on the thought as an elderly group of women caught your attention and trilled for you two to come over. “What a lovely young couple.” One crowed, gesturing to the both of you. “Married, I’m assuming?”

Dean drew you closer into his chest, and your hand landed there by impact- a solid goddamn wall. Oh, holy mama. He let out a low chuckle, pumping his eyebrows. “Ma’am, you can’t find a woman this gorgeous and not, to quote Miss Knowles, ‘put a ring on it’.”

“Oh, honey, such a flirt!” You laughed in a posh accent, mimicking your mother’s laugh to the best of your ability while you swatted Dean’s chest. He smirked at the look in your eyes, because goddamn was it obvious that you hated this.

“Darlin’, I can’t help myself around you.” He turned to the other charity goers with a proud smirk, gesturing to all of you. “Can’t keep my hands off my gorgeous wife. Might have to have something off the menu for dessert, if you catch my drift.” He winked at some elderly ladies, who giggled and waved him off.

“Such a charming boy.” One cooed, obviously eyeing Dean up with poorly restrained envy. While you looked around for your target, you missed the way Dean’s eyes travelled down your body in that form-fitting red dress, v-neck, v-back, thigh slit where he knew you had a thigh holster strapped in, all the good stuff. And his eyes were on those scarlet heels.

He was imagining ramming into you with those sexy things on. And that dress, well, it’d be off in second if he had the chance. And that lipstick? Well, it’d be smeared and leaving prints on his neck, chest, abs and- that’s going a bit too unprofessional.

“I’d go as far as to say I had gotten myself a catch.” You affirmed, but inside you were rolling your eyes. You didn’t expect to spend the evening complimenting Agent Winchester of all people. “He’s so firm, ladies.”

Dean laughed deeply, one which you knew didn’t have only your thighs rubbing and pressing together on instinct. “I take immense care of my physical appearance. I’d do anything for my darlin’.”

“And you look handsome.” You straightened his bow tie and made a show of biting your lip and looking him over, which got a sly smirk on his face. All forced, and you knew he couldn’t tell that you actually meant the comment. He looked sexy, not just damn handsome. In fact, words failed you when it came to describing Dean in high society.

Scrubbing your hand with an antiseptic wipe wasn’t an option when he took your hand, lifted to his mouth and kissed your knuckle. Those warm, plump weapons of destruction corrupting your newly purified and professional brain.

Expertly sowing thoughts of them travelling down your neck and sucking on the skin in your dirty mind.

Brain malfunctioning.

Brain.exe has shut down.

Hail whichever deity’s the Almighty because you got the pleasure of feeling this man’s lips on your skin.

You’d felt them on your temple and cheek when you’d last worked a case with him, but after being deprived of his contact for five years now made you like a nun breaking her chastity vow, if they have one.

You had no idea how nunhood worked.

You couldn’t be bothered to find out when this man next to you was robbing you of coherent words or thoughts.

“While you look stunning, my love.” Dean murmured, shooting you a quick wink that would’ve had an average Jane swooning over.

Damn Dean Winchester and his ability to flirt.

Damn Dean Winchester for being a lady killer. Damn him to hell.

“Such lovebirds. My husband Terrance and I were like that once, all over each other. The magic of youth, I dare say.” One lady fawned, but her husband - Terrance - tugged on her arm.

“Edna, we’re in polite and present company, let’s not regurgitate details of our marriage.” He muttered, leading Edna away, which dispersed the other partygoers. You smirked at Dean, fixing the neckline of your dress (which he didn’t waste a moment ogling, which would arguably be in character).

“Shame.” You clicked your tongue, outwardly and inwardly amused. “I liked Edna.”

“I feel for Terrence, if I’m being honest.” Dean snickered, then nudged you. “You ready to go upstairs for a lil’ somethin’-somethin’?” That statement earned a swat to the back of his head, and he shrank away from you in shock. “Woah, hey, not actually going up there to get some, alright? We’re on a federal investigation, I’m not about to bang my partner. Jesus, woman.” He rubbed the back of his head. “Just pretend to be all over me, ok?”

You rolled your eyes, but obliged as Dean steered you both to a guard waiting by the stairs. “Mmh, honey,” You purred, your lips faux-chasing his neck, as Dean veered away from them reluctantly.

“Hey, man, do you have a place where my wife and I can get some privacy?” Dean’s strong hand took a hold of your waist and pulled you flush against his side. “Can’t keep my hands off ‘er. Women, am I right?”

“Upstairs, sir.” The guard let you two through, both of you falsely laughing until you reached the top of the stairs. Then you switched the moment you were out of earshot, dropping character.

“Nice job, honey.” Dean drawled, smirking. “Got a firearm under that dress?”

“Of course I do.” You snorted, shaking your head. Dean smirked at you when your head was turned, with a look that said that’s my girl. “What am I, an idiot? C’mon, we’ve got work to do.” You managed to try each door until you found one conveniently locked, so you took a hairpin, bent it and then your leg, kneeling so you could jimmy the thing in the lock, rotating the chassis (at least it might be that, you never paid attention to lock anatomy) and getting the door open.

“Good girl.” Dean muttered under his breath so you wouldn’t hear, stepping inside and shutting the door quietly. There were no secret triggers (you had to mentally steel yourself so you wouldn’t throttle Dean and his constant use of ‘booby traps’), so you just immediately took out your compact powder case and a blush applicator, evenly coating it in powder and dabbing it on the sensor before unhooking the tape roll, using a canine to rip off a piece of tape before placing it on, which successfully opened the lock with an electrical series of beeps. “Nice one. A’ight, now grab that necklace and let’s book it.”

“Not that easy.” You pouted in thought. That sent Dean to unholy places. All while your eyes were focused on the opal-studded jewellery in front of you. “It’s a weight sensor. We need something roughly the same weight.”

“Your heels?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I borrowed these from a friend, no way in hell am I leaving it here.”

“You have friends, sweetheart?” He snickered, but winced slightly when you sharply kicked him in the shin with the heel of your left stiletto. He had to fight the urge to grab the afflicted area and howl because holy hell, physics wasn’t lying about the pressure equation thing.

Pressure equals force over area multiplied by a whole lot of pain.

You looked around, then saw a small crystalline trophy thing. So you grabbed it, then prepared to make the switch. You took a deep breath in and then out, then switched it. And waited. To your disappointment and shock, the weight sensor must’ve been to a T because the pedestal sank and the room flashed red, an alarm going off.

Dean’s hand enveloped yours, tugging you out of the room at breakneck speed (you figured out in this time that you weren’t a dab hand at running in heels and had to awkwardly hop and take them off along the way), pulling you both into a side room when you heard approaching voices. Doors were being opened and rooms checked, so you had to think quick.

Oh, you were sure to regret this later.

Your hands flew to unbutton Dean’s suit jacket, get it on the floor before getting his bow tie undone and shirt along with it, untucking it and letting it hang open. You tried not to get distracted by the kissable canvas of taut, toned muscle that was his chest, while you reached up to your own lips, smearing the lipstick and then transferring some to his without lip-to-lip contact.

He was flabbergasted.

“Sweetheart,” Dean let out a nervous yet rough chuckle, “I love frisky women, don’t get me wrong, but don’t you think this isn’t the right time-”

“Shut up.” You hissed, then grabbed his hand and put it under the silk of your dress, through the slit and onto your thigh. “Now, act like you’re about to kiss my neck.”

Dean short circuited, and so did you. Hands. On legs. Bare legs. Need a bed. Even a table will do- keep it professional.

His eyes locked on the curve of your neck as you let your head tip back, and his hand went on autopilot, cupping the back of your neck. He leaned forward, and your skin was right there, begging to be kissed, but he hovered right there. Dean’s lips were inches away from your heated skin and it was killing the both of you.

His fingers itched to take the zip of your dress, yank it down and see what was underneath.

But even as he was about to give in, shake hands with the loss of his professionalism and ravish you till the sun came up, the door burst open and in came a guard, who instantly muttered an apology at seeing yours and Dean’s more than dishevelled state.

Ay, dios mío.

Wilkins Street Bank was shut down. SWAT teams surrounding it, along with multiple NYPD vans. An officer made his way onto the scene, flashing his badge. He was tall, with black hair and had clever green eyes, wearing a bomber jacket with NYPD blaring on the back in yellow letters.

Flashing his badge like he was in a movie, but made it ten times better. Ten times sexier, really.

“Detective Sergeant Nick Santiago, 67th precinct.” He introduced, looking up at the bank. “We got ourselves a hostage situation, I’m heading the case.”

“No can do, compadre.” One of the 71st huffed out a breath. “We just got off the call with the suits. They’re sending two of their agents over to head the charge. Something about the boys leadin’ the hostage sitch being their jurisdiction.”

“You kiddin’ me?”

“No, sir.”

“Who are we getting?”

“The best Major Crimes has to offer.”

NEXT UP:

“I’m doing my job!” You scoffed, holding the compress over your shoulder. It hurt to move it, honestly, but you’d rather take a banged up shoulder rather than Dean Winchester scolding you.

“And I’m not?” He retorted, hands on his hips. “We’re working this case together.”

“The only reason you’re even in Major Crimes is because daddy dearest pulled some strings.” You seethed, which had Dean bristling.

“That’s not how it went.”

“Then how?”

I’d appreciate a like, or reblog with feedback! Thanks for reading, lovelies!

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vtoriacore · 2 years

Note

Yo! It's me! I was wondering if I could request Ruggie, Idia, Riddle, and Malleus with a significant other who fights people for just breathing in their direction. Like Crowley opens his mouth and their already like "SHUT UP!" And throws chairs at people. I think the comedic potential for this is exponential

✧ alla stocatta (this chair)!

note: this is such a funny fucking concept LMFAO😭 gremlin MC agenda has gotta be my fucking fave they have the power to be so unhinged and i live for it also not proofread because it's low-key 12 am BUT. it's readable so-

characters: ruggie, idia, riddle, malleus

people who reblogged here is a special heart and a kith y'all do the most and ily 💞

♡ RUGGIE

ruggie finds it both amusing and kind of intimidating (and kinda hot but he'll die before he admits this yk) how you literally defend his honour (even when it doesn't necessarily need to be defended) but is he complaining? fuck no!

half the time he is laughing and the other half is him cheering you on and maybe even encouraging you to do something just a little overboard (nothing that will get you into trouble, and if it does he's usually happy to take the blame)

the first time he witnessed you literally throwing your broom at leona in joint flight class because he wouldn't stop bitching to ruggie was just about the most hilarious fucking thing he's ever seen and oh- there he goes falling off because he couldn't stop laughing (he stops when you catch him and ask if he's okay though - this mf may think he's slick but is literally reduced to a blubbering mess once he finds himself in a position considered a little too intimate with you)

the second time he saw you trip someone up because they looked at him wrong, and your silly, sly self simply gave them the most unimpressed look you could muster with a "watch where you're going"

the hyena was too stunned to speak 😮 no but seriously he found that both hilarious (as always) and admirable because holy shit, you did it so nonchalantly and it looked so fucking cool- he questions how he was even able to pull you (dw ruggie, you've got rizz!)

he absolutely loves when you stand up for him for more serious stuff though, like if someone's insulting him for his status or for having to work etc. because your no-bullshit attitude actually works so well? you just casually throw a chair at the mf even daring to look at him and his heart goes ✨✨✨ all the while he's laughing and cheering you on from the sidelines.

♡ IDIA

at first, idia is fucking terrified! bro is borderline crashing because how the fuck did you have the strength to haul that heavy ass cauldron at the person making a snide remark about him? he was going to say he's NEVER coming to class again but after this, he changes his mind so quick

like, you looked so badass doing that? the savannaclaw loser who tried insulting him barely got two words out and you just- oh wow! he just got the "in love" status applied to him again!

nah but fr he is literally fucking grinning as he stares at the poor, poor fool laying on the ground and is so fucking smug about it too!

"that was an ez no scope, didn't even have to be 360 lol'

"idia ily but what"

"it's a roundabout way of saying this bozo stood no chance, you pulled up on him too quick lmao"

at first, he is a bit concerned that you might end up in trouble with someone for doing all this but . . . yk, his money speaks for itself and if something does ever happen covering up wouldn't be too hard so he lets you do as you please

this hades-rapunzel secret love child thinks its low-key hot too, but he'll never admit it and he literally turns bright fucking pink anytime he even thinks this. you tried prying the answer out before, but he pulled out his secret trump card - fainting on you so he wouldn't have to say a thing

idia is another mf to absolutely egg you on as you cause some more chaos, it's getting to the point ortho had to warn you of nearly breaking someone's arm before you stopped. idia was just standing there, the most villainous, evil grin to have ever graced his face; "no, no! let them cook!"

♡ RIDDLE

riddle. fucking. FAINTS!

he was NOT ready for that strawberry tart to end up lodged down someone's throat as you victoriously shrugged your shoulders with a "what? they had it coming."

"oh great heavens what have you- where is the decorum? what could have possibly compelled you to-" aaaaaaaand man's down!

when he awakes, he's frantically shaking your shoulders and asking why you would even think that nearly suffocating someone (not really, you pushed the tart far enough they could swallow) was appropriate

but let me tell you, when he hears it was because they've insulted him and brought his mother into it, he low-key feels light headed and oh wow his cheeks are getting pretty warm huh?

riddle, in his own spiteful way, actually doesn't probe you on this any longer and makes you promise that you won't do this in his vicinity again

you of course, nod along. you won't do it in his vicinity, but will be perfectly fine exacting your revenge straight after he's out of sight

when you actually end up having a . . . a chair duel. yes, he read that right. (he wasn't about to even question how that came about but nontheless) he ends up both impressed at you exploiting a loophole you've found within his statement and at the fact the person you've just beaten (both literally and figuratively) is miserably sitting on the floor apologising for giving riddle the wrong look at 12:34 AM on the 3rd of march. very specific

riddle doesn't even chastise you for this one, he is exasperated but does actually pull you away from the scene and thanks you for defending him. this time, he makes you promise to resolve your fights for him verbally, but he won't be stopping you from this point on (it's because he doesn't want to and enjoys you standing up for him)

♡ MALLEUS

the student walking away from malleus makes him feel a bit bad. so naturally, to remedy this, you end up shouting at them! now they're backing away from you instead, isn't this the meaning of true love? (no)

this silly little very capable of looking after himself fae is fucking over the moon! absolutely smitten! completely in love! when you come to defend him and angrily shout at people for not treating him like a being worthy of respect and love.

he low-key debates proposing to you on the spot after you also somehow manage to get a student to apologize to him for fearing him for no good reason! he appreciates the sentiment and you caring for his well being, isn't that basically marriage already? no? he'd like to digress immediately

malleus does get a bit concerned when things get physical, not that he doesn't trust you to take care of yourself or anything but he worries that you might end up hurt. oh, did you think he'd care for the person you're fighting? or you getting in trouble? nah, he could literally BBQ anyone who even dared harm you anyway and if crowley even thought to step in, he'd soon be reconsidering because he doesn't want to end up an elaborate crow dish

however, on the occasion that you do outsmart your opponent (aka the savannaclaw student who just rolled his eyes at the dragon fae) he feels hella proud and is very amused at your antics. i mean, the way you just psychologically destroyed the fool in front of you for their comment on malleus not even being that good at magift is very sure to leave them questioning why they even bothered coming out the womb for the rest of their life.

he is another one that finds it low-key 😳😳😳 like damn, did you always look this badass when flipping someone off for even breathing wrong near him? sane thoughts just weren't made for malleus

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst crack #twst #twisted wonderland #ruggie bucchi x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader #ruggie bucchi #riddle rosehearts #idia shroud #malleus draconia #twst malleus #twst ruggie #twst riddle #twst idia

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lilith-vodkaaunt-of-demons · 16 days

Text

In an unmarked laboratory in North Eastern Kansas.

Breathing heavily, Cass stood up and took a look at her handy work, swiping copper curls away from her eyes. It had taken some effort, creativity, and lots and lots of cursing, but the room was finally finished. Mere months ago it had been a vague image of a dream of an idea, but now it was finally complete. Her friends and colleagues all laughed at her. Her parents had even gone back on their word to fund her Graduate School, telling her they had agreed to fund her schooling for a career, not a dead end obsession. But look at her now! In a laboratory! With real equipment! And funding! It didn't matter that she'd never heard of the government department those two bozos in their ridiculous white monkey suits claimed to be from, they'd handed her a functionally bottomless grant, all the equipment and time she needed, and told her only one thing.

"Report everything to us. No matter how miniscule you think it is, no matter how insignificant. If your coffee tastes different after an experiment, report it." What a bunch of weirdos.

"Ha...haha...hahaha hahaha! Finally! Now that the room is finished, all I need to do is start the process!" Cass crowed gleefully, giddy with excitement and anticipation. She once again looked at her work. She had to admit...it looked like the room of a person suffering from unmedicated schizophrenia. In the center of the 15x15 room was a circle, about 4 feet in diameter, inside the circle were symbols, sigils, and diagrams from Alchemy to the Zodiac. Just outside that circle was a ring of solidified salt, pressed into an impression on the floor. Spreading out from that across the floor, up the walls, and even on the ceilings were words in every language from Aztec to Sumerian, and religious iconography from every religion from Christianity to Zunism.

Cass had spent years preparing for this. Using every cent, every favor, every resource and scrap of goodwill she could find in preparation for this. She was finally going to prove to everyone that she wasn't some obsessed lunatic. She was going to prove the existence of Higher Beings. And to do it, she was going to summon a demon. Now all she had to do was start the process.

It was easy. She stepped up to the center of the circle. The focal point of the entire array of binding spells, prays, and words of power she'd inscribed in every surface of the room save for this cirlce, the one clean spot. She pulled out a scalpel and sliced the inside of her forearm, letting the blood bead up, then drip down and pool on the floor. She'd never understood the idea of cutting your hand. You used those. This was much easier to take care of, and you still had the use of both hands. After a few moments of letting the blood collect, Cass wrapped her arm in a towel, pressing down to make the bleeding slow, and stepped back out of the salt circle.

She briefly left the room, going to the first aid kit she left just outside the door to see to the minor laceration. After all, she didn't want dripping blood to ruin her sigils and protection charms. Once the bleed stopped, she returned to the room, a notebook in hand. She opened the notebook and began to chant.

400 miles away, at the Kent's Farm...

A young man, not dissimilar to Clark Kent when he was younger, was helping Pa Kent fix up the old tractor while Ma Kent tended to the animals. It seemed the pair had figured out what was wrong with it, but it was in a particularly hard to reach place.

"Sounds like we're gonna need to pull the whole engine out to fix this." Pa Kent said, a bit of disappointment in his voice, "That's gonna be pricey. Might have to wait a while." He mumbled to himself, one hand rubbing his jaw, leaving a trail of oil along his face, "Gonna be tough getting the crop in without ol' Bessie."

"Naaaah, don't worry about a thing. I can patch her up well enough to get the harvest in, then we can take out the engine over the winter." Danny said, his hand turning opaque. He then slid his hand through the chassi of the tractor, "Hold on," He continued, his face suddenly turned similarly opaque, "Better see what I'm doing here." He said as he shoved his face into the chassi of the tractor as well, "Yup! We were right! Duct busted. I can patch it up nicely, should last until the harvest is brought in!" He called from inside the tractor.

Pa Kent shook his head and chuckled, "Even with everything Clark did, I don't think I'll ever get use to that. Go ahead and patch her up. Then we can head in for lunch before tackling the field." He said, giving Danny a pat on the back. Suddenly a bright green glow emenates from the inside of the tractor before Danny pulled his head and hand back out.

"Let it cool, and it should be good an' patched." He said proudly, soot and oil covering his entire face and one hand.

"You uh, got somethin' on your face, Danny."

"Oh? Where?"

"Uh. there." Pa Kent said, pointing to the entirety of Danny's face before tossing him a rag, and turning to head into the house. Danny began to wipe his face off, then started coughing a bit, "Yeah, that oil can taste somethin' awful if it gets in your mouth." Pa said, thinking Danny had just tasted some of the oil, but Danny kept coughing, and the coughing got worse until Pa turned around to see Danny on his knees, one hand over his mouth, another around his throat like he was choking. Black frost and steam poured from Danny's mouth like he'd just run a mile on a freezing December morning, but it was the middle of the day in early September, nearly 90 degrees out in an open field. Pa ran over to Danny, and knelt down in front of him, "You okay, boy?" He asked, worry plain on his face.

Danny shook his head and gasped, "Something!...Big!...Coming!" Was all he could get out before, in a flash of light, he'd transformed into his alter-ego, Danny Phantom, and in a streak of green, blasted off into the sky, soon followed by the telltale boom of super sonic flight.

Danny was already about a mile above the ground, still coughing up what he could only describe as frost mixed with soot and rotten eggs. It was like his Ghost Sense had gone into overdrive, and happened to run through a Coal Mine and a Landfill on it's way out. Even Pariah Dark hadn't made his Ghost Sense react like that, especially not at this distance. Whatever it was, he needed to get there yesterday, because it, whatever it was, was absolutely massive and even from there, Danny could feel the hostility radiating from it. Bad News didn't even begin to cover whatever this thing was.

Meanwhile, back at the Laboratory...

Cassi began chanting the invocation she'd pieced together. It had been like figuring out a puzzles who's pieces had been hidden all over the world. Words from disparate languages that fit together to make an ancient call to those Outside. But Cass had managed to find the words and put them together. She hoped she'd put them together in the correct order, otherwise who knew what she was calling out to.

At first, it didn't seem to be working. No crack in the ground or air appeared. No red skinned, horned imp appeared in a puff of crimson smoke. The lights didn't even flicker as she read the incantation. Cass was about to stop when she saw a ripple run across the surface of the pool of her blood in the center of the inner circle. First a small ripple, like a drop of water hitting the surface of a puddle. Cass continued chanting. Then another ripple, from left to right, like something skimming the surface. Cass continued chanting. Then it seemed to stop.

Cass chanted for a minute or two, spurred on by the unusual behavior of the blood. Right as her throat was beginning to ache, a hand burst through the surface of the blood, pale skin stained red and rivulets of blood ran down the arm that followed. The hand gripped the edge of the pool of blood like it was much deeper than it could possibly be. Then another hand burst forth, also followed by a pale arm.

Cass stopped chanting, what she had called had obviously already broken through, and was now simply pulling itself out. She watched in fascination that slowly mixed with a bit of fear as she realized that the being that was pulling itself out of a pool of her blood looked exactly like her, save for it's eyes, with black sclera and yellow iris. Cass watched with matched Fascination and Fear as the being continued to pull itself from the pool, and she realized that the more of the doppleganger that was out of the blood, the less blood there appeared to be.

Cass also noticed, with some surprise, that while she had initially the creature to be naked, it (she?) was in facted, clothed. She wore a strapless, low-cut black ball gown that clung to her (Cass's?) body in all the right places to accentuate her feminine form in ways Cass rarely did.

Once the woman (demon?) had completely pulled itself through, and the puddle of blood completely disappeared, she stood up, smiling at Cass in what she assumed was it's purposefully unnerving way. She had to admit, this is not what she had expected. In truth, she hadn't really known what to expect, but this wasn't it. She had thought there might be a chance that whatever she summoned might try to imitate her form, but in a more threatening manner. Boils, pustules, sores, and lacerations, things to make her terrified, or perhaps a more perfect version of herself, with the things she considered defects or unattractive about herself washed away.

She was not prepared for a rather normal looking, though perhaps less desheveled and better dressed, version of herself. She was actually so distracted by the pure mundanity of the entity before her that she jumped and screamed when the creature spoke.

"D̷̺̉o̷͍̎ ̵̥̏y̸͔͗o̸̡̾u̵̹͠ ̶̟̀k̵͎͌n̴͙͗ȯ̶̟ẅ̴́͜ ̶͚̀w̵̭͘h̵̻͝y̶͓̌ ̵͎́p̴͍̿e̸̮͛o̵̠͝p̶̩̓l̶̡̃è̵̮ ̵͖̈́ȃ̵̳l̶̹̂w̵̞̋a̸͛ͅy̷͉͒ş̷̇ ̴̪͐s̶̥̉u̶̞̅m̵̻͑m̷̢͒ò̸̤n̵̬̏ ̸̨̈ǘ̸̳ș̷̃ ̵͙͌b̸͙͑y̵̹͆ ̴̣͐ǩ̷͎i̷͖͒l̶̺͛l̴͎͛ị̴͂n̷̞͗g̵̮̍ ̴̌͜a̷̮͠n̶͕̚ ̷̩͝a̶̧͐n̵̽͜i̴̥̽m̶͉̑a̸͓͌l̴̤̓?̶̼̂" It asked, it's voice like a thousand people speaking almost in unison, making it a bit hard to understand.

Cass, after screaming and jumping so hard she almost fell over, took a deep breath and reoriented herself, "I...What?" She asked, between the synchronicity and her being startled, she hadn't processed the question.

The creature repeated itself, this time the effect is lessened a bit, "D̷o̵ ̴y̶o̵u̶ ̶k̶n̵o̷w̸ ̷w̶h̷y̴ ̴p̵e̵o̸p̸l̵e̶ ̷a̸l̶w̵a̷y̶s̶ ̶s̶u̴m̴m̴o̶n̵ ̵u̶s̵ ̵b̵y̴ ̵k̵i̶l̶l̵i̶n̴g̷ ̶a̷n̷ ̴a̵n̴i̷m̸a̸l̸ i̵n̷s̸t̷e̵a̶d̷ ̶o̶f̸ ̶o̵f̶f̴e̵r̸i̸n̴g̵ ̸h̸u̵m̵a̸n̸ ̸b̶l̷o̴o̵d̶?̷" As it asked the question, it lightly stepped to the edge of the circle, lightly touching something unseen with one of Cass's fingers.

Cass blinked, then looked down at her notebook. She flipped through a few pages before looking back at the woman with her face, "Um...No. Why?" Cass asked. This wasn't what she was expecting at all. Something felt...off. Like maybe she'd made a mistake that she wasn't quite aware of. But whatever that may have been, she was sure she was right about the sigils, the protective charms, the binding spells. There was no way the entity could escape.

Almost as if it could read Cass's mind, it grinned, "Connection. A Goat. A Lamb. A fowl of some sort." Now the entity was speaking in Cass's voice, which only served to cause her more discomfort, "They cut it's throat, release it's....delicious life blood, and summon us. Giving us Horns. Hooves. Wings....mmmmflesh." It purred, running it's hands up and down it's, Cass's, body, "Giving us...Connection."

"Connection to here? To Earth?" Cass asked. She was having trouble following. Her brain was being sluggish for some reason. She couldn't seem to put thoughts together in her head, and the entity wasn't making any sense.

"The smarter ones leave the sacrifice dead in the circle. The less smart ones kill but leave the body out of the circle, and dead bodies are so easy to manipulate." The Entity explained, stepping over the edge of the circle, "But it's the Smartest ones that make the same mistake over and over, because you don't want money, or power, or anything like the rest of them. You just want answers." It continued as it walked up to Cass, wrapping an arm around her waist. Cass, meanwhile, felt a pang of fear jolt through her, but she couldn't quite remember why. Something about words and circles. Boundaries? "In the end, it's your pacifism, your mercy that kills you. Had you just beheaded a chicken, or disembowled some livestock, you might have lived to tell others not to seek these answers." It whispered to Cass, "But you've handed me the keys to your body, and oh, I am going to make myself right at home."

"My...blood...." Was all Cass could say. Demon, Devil, whatever it was, it was exerting some kind of anesthetic influence on her, slowing her body and her mind, but she was still able to make the connection. The sigils, the symbols, the protection charms and spells. None of them had worked because Cass had used her own blood. Whatever it was, it had bypassed them all because Cass was outside the barrier.

Not Cass giggled delightedly, "It makes it all the sweeter that you figured out what you did wrong too little too-"BOOM! Not Cass began to say, but was interrupted by the sound of something that had been moving very fast hitting a Warded Steel Wall. Slowly, as if reaching through thick mud, a white-gloved hand slid through the wall, then another, and a boot, then another. Finally, a very red, very unhappy face slid through after it.

"What in the fu-Whoa!" Danny said, his ghost form flickering, half reverting him to human, "What is up with this room? First, it acts like a non-newtonian liquid despite me being intangible, and now this? What's going WHOA!" Danny shouted, just noticing the pair inside with him. His vision flickered between two women and a woman and some kind of vile chimera beast starting to overshadow the woman.

The Not Woman smiles as she looked Danny up and down, "Well, aren't you an interes-OOF!" It started to say before getting interrupted by Danny tackling it, separating it from the woman it was trying to overshadow. "My, you're stronger than you look, Ghostling!" It cackled, "Maybe we can have some fun!" It struck out at Danny, the human fist reinforced by the power of the beast hiding behind it. It wasn't the hardest Danny had ever been hit, but it certainly wasn't a Box Ghost Punch either.

"Look Lady, I don't know what your whole deal is, but around here, we don't just overshadow people for shits and giggles. And we certainly don't let people with your kind of vibes just hang around, either!" Danny said, wrapping the beast in ecto-energy while fending off the Not Woman. Something not dissimilar to a Ghost Portal was still open on the floor, but Danny could feel from just looking at it that whatever was on the otherside was nothing like the Ghost Zone.

"Oh ho! You really are impressive!" The Not Woman growled, a grin on her face, but it was clear that she was struggling with the ecto-shield he'd wrapped around her true body, "But you don't know what you're meddling with, Daniel. Beings such as yourself are easy to influence!" She said, sucking the strange creature into her body, freeing her from the ecto-shield he'd wrapped around it. She launched herself at Danny, and opened her mouth, a vile, black sludge ejecting all over Danny's face.

"How-Eugh! Forget it, I don't even want to know how you know my name! I've had more than enough of you! Time. To. Go. Home!" Danny roared, wrapping the Not Woman in a bear hug as she continued to vomit the black sludge on him. Then he spun towards the portal, and used all of his might to slam her down into it, knocking her off of him and into the portal. Using his portal powers, he grabbed the edges of the tear, and began to force it shut.

As he's closing the portal, black hands reached through and pull him against the half-closed portal, and a screeching voice shrieked, "You and I are not finished, Child of Thanatos! Descendant of Azrael! You will seek me out soon enough!" It screeched, grabbing at Danny as he struggled to close the portal.

Danny eyes briefly flashed red and he growled back, "Enough! I don't know who you are, but go back to where you came from!" He shouted, slamming the portal shut with all his strength. The entity gone, the portal shut, Danny was suddenly overcome with a wave of exhaustion, his Ghost Form fully reverting back. He fell to his knees, he head swimming as the effects of the room finally began to effect him. Only then did he notice the searing pain from the left half of his face, where the Not Woman had vomited the nasty black sludge on him. Knowing what was coming next, Danny reached into his pocket and pressed the emergency button on his phone before passing out.

Somewhere...

Danny floated in a black void. It wasn't the first time he'd had a dream like this, though he couldn't rightly recall the first time he'd had one. It was actually somewhat of a relief, since most of his dreams had to do with a cavalcade of rogues from his rogues gallery. Or so he'd thought. Something was different this time. This time, it didn't feel like he was alone in the black void. He could hear movement, whispers, feel eyes on him. Something was there with him. He goes to rub his eyes, and feels scale-like skin on his face. Suddenly he's looking at his own face, except half of it isn't his, it's monsterous.

"I TOLD YOU I WASN'T FINISHED WITH YOU, GHOSTLING!" A familiar, shrill voice screeched and cackled. Danny screamed, and sat up from the hospital bed he was in, his heart, ususally much slower than normal, nearly beating out of his chest. He looked around, and quickly recognized the medical floor of the JL Watchtower. His emergency call must have gone through. He sighed with relief, and laid back in the hospital bed. He attempted to relax, but that dream continued to bug him.

Soon enough, a doctor came in, "Well, given your...unique biology, we can't say anything for certain, but now that you've stabilized, you should be fine." The doctor said, looking through some chart, "Though, there is one thing we should probably look into..."

"Hold on." Danny said, holding up a hand, "Stabilized? I passed out because of the funky stuff in the weird room, what do you mean Stabilized?"

The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous gesture, "Well, Daniel...when the WatchTower emergency crew found you, you seemed to be having some sort of...episode? You kept changing into a ghost and back to your human form. In fact, you were doing it the entire time you were unconscious, and only stopped shortly before you woke up." The doctor explained, "And then there's..."

"And then there's....what, doc? What's going on." Danny asked, a bit exasperated.

"It might be better for you to see it."

"See. What. Doctor." Danny ground out. The Doctor held out a mirror. At first Danny hesitated, the dream coming back to him briefly, but then he grabbed the mirror from the doctor and held it up and...nothing. He looked completely normal, black hair, blue eyes. Skin was fine, "I look fine."

"Transform, Daniel."

Danny did as he was told, and transformed, then gasped and dropped the mirror, his hands flying to his face. It wasn't the same as the nightmare, exactly, but it wasn't good, either. Starting at about the half-way point across his forehead, the skin of his forehead began to turn black and hard, pulling up until it all came together in an unmistakable black horn coming out from his left temple. The Sclera of his eye partially black, highlighting the neon green even moreso. Whatever that thing was, it had done this to him, whatever this was. And it had been right, that wasn't going to be the last time they saw each other.

#danny fenton #danny phantom #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #TW: Self Harm/Blood #Possession #Demons/Devils #dc x dp

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luna-naoffcial · 2 months

Text

Criminal Love

—PART EIGHT

Pairing: Alastor x Fem! Reader

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

PART ONE | PART SEVEN | PART NINE |

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

21 years old

"Hang on, let me get this straight. You two have been together for 3 years and you haven't fucked?" Elizabeth asked in disbelief staring between you and Paul. Your home has now become a hangout since no one liked you being alone. Paul has hinted about moving in with you to make it some what less lonely but it didn't feel right. The front door opened, it was Alastor using your spare key you gave him so he could check up on you and come here to clean his mess from his night outings. "Alastor! Just in time. Can you explain to me why these two bozo here have been together for 3 years and they haven't had sex!" Elizabeth announced.

Paul expressed his annoyance through an eye roll, while you remained silent and blinked several times in surprise. "Elizabeth, I have just returned from work and do not have the bandwidth to engage in personal matters at this time," Alastor stated in a slightly irritated tone.

"Alright old man, just because you haven't got a girlfriend to pleasure you... want help with that?" She then smirked as Alastor looked taken back from that offer. "Lizzy." You snapped glaring at your best friend horny mood. "It seems like

Elizabeth here wants some action." Paul chuckled. "Hey just because you guys wanna follow everyone and wait for marriage don't mean I am, if a guy doesn't want me because I'm not a pure flower. Screw them." She huffed.

"Elizabeth, there's nothing wrong waiting for the right person or after marriage." Alastor sighed slipping off his coat and hat. "Paul did not," Elizabeth confessed openly. "Elizabeth," he said in a low voice.

"What? Aren't relationships supposed to be based on honesty? It's better to reveal all secrets before you propose, Paul," Elizabeth reasoned. Alastor rolled his eyes at the

woman, looking fed up. The frequency with which Elizabeth has caused everyone to roll their eyes in the span of five minutes leads me to believe that she derives pleasure from the reaction of irritating us. "Some matters are best left unsaid," Paul remarked snidely, causing you to narrow your eyes in curiosity. "What about you Alastor? Have you slept with someone?" Elizabeth asked now curious. "That is none of your business." "Probably that blonde chick down at the bar." Paul snorted. You frowned, feeling slightly irritated by the comment. However, you noticed Alastor's glare and quickly changed the subject with a nervous chuckle. "Alright, let's move on to something else!" "Fine." Elizabeth said with a bit of annoyance. "Oh, I know. First kiss!" She gleamed. "Alastor, have you kissed someone?" She asked. "Not answering." "Why is it because it was (Y/N)?" Elizabeth joked only she wasn't wrong. Alastor's eyes widened momentarily before narrowing. Paul observed

this reaction as he glanced at you, noticing your lack of eye contact with anyone. "No sweat if it was, Lizzy was my first kiss." Paul said, decided to add more gasoline to the fire. "Huh, that is a funny one." Lizzy snickered.

"Urgh, can we stop talking about all this. It's making things awkward." You sighed. "Sorry, Doll." Paul wrapped his arm around your shoulders as he pecked your lips. Naturally, he could not resist casting a subtle smirk in Alastor's direction, causing the radio host to clench his teeth in annoyance, fully aware of the underlying intention behind the gesture to piss him off. And it was working. "Hey Doll, I was thinking when these two decide to leave. We could... maybe have some alone time?" Paul said, intended it to be loud enough for Alastor to hear.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Or you could fuck in front of me I got nothing to do." Elizabeth shrugged."Go get some dick Lizzy." Paul growled. "Urgh. I'll go find someone." She groaned, getting up as she left through the main door. Paul and Alastor were engaged in a staring contest. "You are more than welcome to observe if you so desire," Paul stated in a confident yet cocky tone. "He is welcome to stay, Paul." "Nonsense, dear. I understand that Paul would like some... private time with you. I will leave you to it."Alastor walked out not bothering with his coat or hat. "Now, where were we?" Paul grinned as he leaned in, only you leaned farther back holding a frown on your face. "Was that really necessary Paul?"

Paul sat up and rolled his eyes. "(Y/N), we have been in each other's company for quite some time now. As such, I would expect a certain level of comfort and familiarity between us in having sex." "I'm just not ready, Paul." "You're not ready, or I'm not him?" That question threw you off for a second, confused what he meant.

"I've noticed that he's been visiting quite frequently since your mother's passing, and I can't help but wonder if there's something more to your relationship. After all, you've given him a key to your home, which is a significant level of trust, while your boyfriend seems to be left in the dark." You remained composed, not fully considering the potential impact of this situation on him or his feelings toward Alastor's presence. I wonder if he felt intimidated by him. "I'm gonna go. It seems it's clear you don't want me around."

He sighed in defeat getting up. Before he opened the door he took one last look. "I'll come back tomorrow for an answer. I need to know where I am in this (Y/N)." He then left leaving you to your own thoughts. You decided to take a solitary walk towards the woods when you suddenly noticed Alastor sitting there as well. You were surprised to see him after Paul practically asked him to leave your home. You decided to join him as Alastor glanced at you with a slightly surprised expression. "That was quick." He joked, attempting to conceal his simmering frustration.

"That's because it never happened. "You sighed as Alastor gazed at you with a frown. "Why? Do you not love him?" He then inquired, hurting his own feelings in the process. You stayed silent, not offering a response as you respectfully lowered your gaze to the ground. "Are you alright?" Alastor asked now growing concern. The brunette noticed your quiet demeanour after Paul left. Paul had been expressing a desire for a more intimate relationship, but you did not feel even remotely attracted or aroused by him. And with Alastor practically living with you, it strained the relationship.

You found yourself contemplating the reason behind this as your gaze met those honey brown orbs. It was as if the answer lay within those eyes. Alastor possessed an intimate understanding of you, while Paul did not. Alastor was your first kiss, whereas Paul was your second.

Alastor provided love and support during the difficult time of your mother's passing, while Paul chose to leave you alone, believing it was for your own good. You willingly entrusted

Alastor with a key to your home while you hesitated to do the same for Paul. When Alastor was present, you experienced profound and intense emotions within your heart, yearning for something greater and more fulfilling. With Paul, it felt platonic. And now it finally hit. You wanted....

Alastor.

"God damnit, Elizabeth." You muttered under your breath hated that the horny bimbo was right. Alastor was perplexed as he regarded you with a furrowed brow. Were you prepared to openly confess your emotions to your closest friend? What you share is extraordinary. He is exceptional. Would it be considered unusual?

But you needed to know. "Al..." You started off with. "There's something I need to tell you. And I just hope it doesn't affect what we have when I do." You could tell Alastor went into deep thoughts for a moment, trying to figure it out himself. "My little belle, have you been keeping a secret from me? After what I told you?"

He gasped dramatically, placing his hand on his chest. This caused you to playfully punch him in the arm as he chuckled. You shook your head, smiling, understanding that his intentions were to help alleviate your nervousness. Indeed, it was working. "But in all seriousness, my dear, what occupies your thoughts?" You took a moment to think

of the words. "I must admit that my feelings for Paul have not developed as I had anticipated. I find myself unable to reciprocate his affections, and I sense a barrier preventing me from connecting with him on an intimate level. The reason for my discomfort during intimate moments with Paul is that I can not bring myself to engage in such acts with someone I see solely as a friend. I lack even the slightest spark of affection or love for him."

You paused for a moment. "I am familiar with the sensation of my heart racing from a mere touch or glance, the warmth of affection, and the unwavering trust. I have experienced these emotions before, yet I foolishly disregarded them. However, I refuse to continue ignoring these feelings and wasting another year of my life. It is important that this person becomes aware of my feelings." With regards to Alastor, his heart was racing from nerves at this moment. He wondered who she was referring to. However, before he could allow his emotions to become overwhelmed by overthinking the situation, you made the announcement.

"Alastor, it is you."

Alastor's eyes widened in astonishment. "I am uncertain of the appropriate terminology to use, but despite all that has transpired, it seems logical to me that since our teenage years, you have held a special place in my heart. After all, you were my first kiss. I believe that solidified our connection a long time ago." You chuckled nervously. The silence grew uncomfortably loud as you averted your gaze. His finger gently lifted your chin, prompting you to look back at him. "I am delighted to find that our feelings are mutual, my little belle," Alastor remarked, noticing the genuine, loving smile and the sparkle in his honey coloured eyes.

A soft gasp escaped your lips, taken aback by the immediate response. You had anticipated that your confession would startle Alastor, giving him time to contemplate his feelings.

After all, Alastor had never shown any romantic interest in any woman before, nor had he ever expressed a desire to be in a relationship. "Wait a moment," you interjected.

"(Y/N), I have been bottling these emotions up since we were thirteen years old. I had planned to confess my feelings on the night of your prom, but..." Oh, Al... "The kiss verified everything. Why did you believe I offered it? Have I ever offered a kiss to any other lady before?" He inquired in an amusing manner. Fair point He gently removed his hand from your chin. He paused for a moment, contemplating whether to confirm his lingering feelings.

Without delay, he caressed your cheeks and drew you into a kiss. Initially surprised, you soon relaxed and let out a contented sigh as your eyes closed. For a fleeting moment, the

world around you vanished, leaving you both immersed in your shared happiness. "Well, it's about time!" This caused both of you to recoil, resulting in a shriek from you as Alastor rose abruptly in a state of alarm, his hand instinctively moving to the handle of his

knife concealed within his vest. It was just Alastor's mother. "Mother!" Alastor sighed, seeing his shoulders relax as your face felt hot. Alastor's mother had a big grin on her face with her arms crossed.

There was a pause for a moment, no one saying anything. "So... when am I going to have some grandchildren?!" Alastor's mother then openly said. "MOTHER!" "Oh my goodness!" You whispered, covering your face. But you couldn't help but notice the rosy cheeks on Alastor when peeking, causing you to chuckle.

"What? You practically live across the street with (Y/N), then you do with your mother. Who knows what you've been up to?" She chuckled, delighting in the embarrassment her son was experiencing from "Oh, I'm so pleased my dear her. son has finally found a partner." She cooed, gently squeezing his cheek.

"And you wonder why it took me so long." Alastor groaned. Alastor's mother smiled at that. She then walked over to you, taking your hands. "I have always considered you as my own daughter since the day you befriended my son. I am honoured to have you officially join our family, even though you were already a part of it in my eyes." Alastor appeared to be nervously glancing between us. We had only shared a kiss, but you did not want to disrupt this significant moment. You had noticed her recent fatigue, which she attempted to conceal with makeup. You wondered if Alastor ever

noticed his mom's health getting worse. "I guess I was just blind to it. He's always been the one for me. He's like my other half. We've always been super close, you know?" you admitted, not looking away from those gorgeous honey coloured eyes.

Alastor gazed at you with an affectionate smile mother released your hands, allowing him to gently draw you closer to him. "Your mother would be delighted for you, and she would likely express she a similar sentiment," stated, chuckling softly at her previous remark. It brought a smile to your face, knowing that this would have elicited a similar reaction from your mother. After all, Alastor was the one for you.

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

Tags : @n0tmentallystable

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

#hazbin fandom #hazbin hotel #hazbin art #hazbin lucifer #hazbin alastor #hazbin fanart #alastor #hazbin hotel fanart #hazbin hotel lucifer #helluva #alastor x oc #alastor x reader #alternate universe fic #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #character x oc #character x you #criminal love

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lynn-tged-posting · 10 days

Text

tged webtoon ep 159 spoilers and thoughts below the cut yep just the usual

JAVIERS FACE LMFAO "wow. these people are so weird. thank god im the only normal person here" jesus christ this entire estate is insane /aff

also i think im required to inform that i sent this panel to some of my irls because they're also civil engineers, and i asked if they recognized any of this and they said "oh god yeah"

so we can pleasantly confirm that the adaptor/artist are still referencing real civil engineering stuff!

while we're still here at the start of the ep/my thoughts i do wanna say, the whole "ugly" gag is getting. a little too well worn

it is really well drawn! the artist is very skilled at drawing exaggerated expressions and its always fun to see, but i think this is like the third or fourth time now that this has been used, and i think my brain is just tired of the repeated schtick. i dont hate it, but the funny has moved on for me

i really hope that in this next arc we see a return of a devilish or conniving lloyd, rather than silly "ugly" expressions; its funny when he looks stupid but id like a better balance, which means i want more instances of him looking cool and smart as hell!!!

of course these words will. probably fall on deaf ears its not like i can message the artist/adaptor directly lmfao but yknow its the thought that counts i guess. actually i might be using that phrase wrong not sure

ANYWAY ANYWAY verkis looks so pretty here,, i like that he confirmed lloyds intentions w the jewel of truth . truly a man who wants to do Nothing thats so real of him me too bud

AND THENNN my personal favorite peak of the episode THE SWORDMASTER SYNDROME KICKING IN AAAAAHHH AAAAHHHH

IT MAKES SENSE THAT LLOYD PUSHING HIS MANACIRCLES TO THE LIMIT WOULD BE THE LAST PUSH HE NEEDS TO BECOME A HIGH LEVEL SWORD EXPERT and now hes suffering the consequence of not dealing with this earlier </3 get overstim'd idiot shouldve taken a break before this happened bozo!!! /j

i really really REALLY love how the text and the effects were drawn in these panels and the following ones (thats three reallys!!!)!! the visual echo and then the sudden sharp jaggedness, it really shows how much OUCH and impact it has and i really really love it YEAHHHH PUT LLOYD THROUGH THE WRINGER YEAHHH YEAHHH

AND THEN JAVIER KEEPS LOOKING SO FUCKING HAPPY THROUGHOUT THIS EPISODE PLEASSEEJ LKAJDFLKSJDFLKJSDFLK JHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAH he's having a grand ol time lmfao now his noble can experience what he had to go through!!!

ALSO ALSO CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW THE VERY FIRST THING THAT LLOYD LOOKS AT WITH HIS NEW HEIGHTENED VISION IS JAVIERS FACE AND HOW PERFECT IT IS HELLO HELLO HELLO HELLO you could have looked at anything else and yet the first thing you narrow in on is javiers face IM SHAKING YOU LLOYD

no seriously wow he's so pretty ALSO THE FUCKING. HAND POSE IM CRYING

also its really really fluffy nice that javier helped lloyd with getting used to his senses! though they couldnt really do anything abt his insomnia

i had heard that some really cute moments got cut from the novel in this little timeskip here which is like awww i wish we got to see it like, that short bit with the "ugly" gag could have been replaced with the moments from the novel and itd still fit the episode length! at least i think

(like i was told that lloyd gets called "good boy" by javier. like. WHAT. WHAT. GOOD BOY??? GOOD BOY??? AND THAT GOT CUT?????? GOOD BOY!?!?!?!? i told my irls abt this and we collectively had a stroke i wish it made it in bc javiers face when saying that and lloyds reaction wouldve been PRICELESSSS)

oh but also back to talking about javier helping lloyd out, i think its really really cute,,, i know its not explicitly said or shown but i want to think that javier is able to repay the lullaby in a sense by doing this. i really like that javier not only depends on lloyd, but lloyd depends on javier too, and they can rely on each other. thinking about that makes my heart warm and my feet kick and then i start giggling like a maniac

anyway few month timeskip and lloyd u look tired as hell im so sorry buddy

though honestly i really like how he looks in this panel for some reason HAHAHAHA idk him just looking grumpy and tired is fun bc u dont really see it that often u usually see him being silly or evil more so this is a nice panel to have heehee

disgruntled tired sleep deprived engineer now aint that the realest STEM experience ever,,, shaking ur hand lloyd i get u i understand

AND THEN THE END OF THE EP HI RAPHAEL the angel arc!! i guess!! idk the names of these arcs

i wonder how he'll try to enforce this,,, and i wonder how lloyd will get out of it,,, like did tkobai ever go over the angels and what they do? does lloyd know about them?

i did see pics of what he looks like from the novel and we were SO robbed of very pretty long wavy hair, it seems the artist just chopped it all off,,, uueueueueuee

i posted abt this on twitter already but my singular cope is that we actually just havent seen the rest of his hair and its just in a ponytail and its like really really thin and we'll see the rest of his hair soon trust <- copium pumping

and a bonus little illustration, happy chuseok!!!

thats all from me!!!!!!! IM REALLY EXCITED TO SEE WHERE THIS ANGEL ARC GOES and whether or not lupellan and wrot,,,, whatever his name was are going to interfere also,,, triple clash!!! also if he'll ever overcome his insomnia,,,

see yall next week :3

#tged #the greatest estate developer #lloyd frontera #tged spoilers #javier asrahan #raphael #lynn misc #fun little bonus yap in the tags #after reading this i actually caved and read the corresponding novel chapters ahead of where im actually at in the novel #i got curious okay!!!! i was wondering what exactly it was i missed #and dont worry i didnt spoil myself. i think #the good boy line. wow. that sent me into hysterics #also the moment where javier tries to read the lullaby to lloyd and falls asleep himself that was so silly PLEASE WAHH #i do wish both the novel and the manhwa spent a little more time on how insomnia/sleep deprivation affects lloyd #javier is used to it with swordmaster syndrome #lloyd is used to it WITHOUT swordmaster syndrome #so i think itd be interesting to explore how that affects his physical/mental #ok now im done

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cocogum · 3 months

Note

Gotta hand it to the Ankama team, in just a few minutes of screentime, they managed to perfectly encapsulate the Osamodas King's personality and how his actions would play out in the webtoon: he's arrogant, stubborn, dishonourable, and refuses to own up to his mistakes and misdeeds.

And this was all established in episodes 10 and 11. In the former, he tried to "advise" Armand about how a king should behave, which in his mind is to stubbornly stand by his choices, even when he's wrong. And in the latter, he was nothing but contemptuous of Amalia and utterly dishonourable, which was especially emphasised when the team didn't even bother trying to make his abandonment of the Sadida vague: no, he outright told his daughter no one would come and to run away.

And this was all shown in the webtoon when he stubbornly doubled down on refusing to apologise for not sending help and potentially dooming the Sadida race. Just like every single interaction he had with Amalia reeked of disdain and disrespect. The whole time he looked down on her and underestimated her, which eventually cost him when she owned him and Aurora in battle.

(Though it is interesting to note he seemed more aware about how crossing her was a bad idea than Aurora, who had known Amalia for about a year. Oh, well, she was never the brightest to begin with).

And we got all this from, like, two scenes. Honestly impressive.

With everything that we’ve seen from this clown “family”, this makes me wonder if Tot purposely just made them horrendous for the sake of hating them.

These two osamodas just look like they’ve been created badly on purpose.

What do I mean by purpose?

Take a look at some of Tot’s other antagonists from the Krosmoz:

You’ve got a crazed Xelor who’s trying to kill and absorb every source of Wakfu so he can turn back in time to get his family back.

You’ve got a tired indifferent primordial Eliatrope who remembers every single detail of his many thousands and millions of previous lives. He cares for his race, in his own way, and unleashed a war just so he could visit new worlds with his sister.

You’ve got the shushu king who ate his siblings just so he could become the absolute ruler of his dimension.

You’ve got a copy of Yugo who became so uncaring and angry at life itself that he tried manipulating people in order to form a brotherhood and kill gods.

You’ve got a brakmarian mother who got separated from her son and attempted to bring back her husband by sacrificing innocent lives.

You’ve got a god-king from an entirely different planet who attempted to invade and eat another planet just so he could feed his own.

So when we see the osamodas royals, we can immediately confirm that there’s something off here.

You’re telling me these two bozos are supposed to be on the same level as these guys??? You got a chicken who hasn’t done dick shit in Seasons 3-4 besides standing around, not talking at all, wearing an ugly ass dress that doesn’t fit the colors of the kingdom she’s supposed to stay in, lying for no reason, not thinking at all when she breathes, and running away with her dad. And then you’ve got a fat gorilla who just runs away and tries to throw lessons to other kings about how they should stand their ground.

Like what the fuck?

Even Grougalorasalar, who we’ve only seen in legends, some moments in the Dofus movie (if I remember correctly), the third Wakfu ova episode, and some chapters of the great wave, has been shown to have more charisma and mystery than these inferior two insects. Plus, he’s only officially appeared in some places here and there in the past AND YOU’RE TELLING ME HE’S GETTING MORE ATTENTION THAN THE PEOPLE WHO WERE SUPPOSED TO BE THE BIG THREATS IN VOLUME 1?!!??!

But another proof that makes me think Tot just carelessly placed them in the great wave was the fact that these two fought against Amalia and pathetically lost.

And not only did they fight her, but they fought her SIMULTANEOUSLY AND LOST.

How does one become a king for decades only to lose to a princess who became queen a few months ago????

Tot could’ve just made Aurora the weakest one and made Amalia swiftly defeat her so that she could have a real fight with the osamodas king.

But no. That’s not what he did at all.

We knew Aurora was useless because we were able to understand with all the scenes we’ve seen her in that she wasn’t someone who could fight.

But the osamodas king? We had no idea. All we knew was that he hangs out in bat caves while his advisor plays king for him.

And yet, despite having lots of time doing nothing away from his own kingdom, this fucker didn’t even train during his free time CUZ HE LOST TO AMALIA WHILE HAVING HIS DAUGHTER AS HIS BACKUP-

The fight didn’t even last long. It lasted like 20 minutes? And I’m being generous even saying that.

This is why these two should feel meaningless compared to the bigger picture.

How can I believe Tot seriously put some thought into them if they had so many failures and made brain-dead decisions???

How can I believe Tot seriously put some thought into them if their battle barely lasted even 10 minutes????

How can I believe Tot seriously put some thought into them if the only leverage and plot they had going on was Aurora having sex???

All these points, reasons, and facts can only lead to one thing:

Tot only brought them into the picture to be minor challenges for Amalia.

How else would you explain the many stupid decisions they made, their absences for other situations when Amalia wasn’t the main focus, the fact that they always had longer discussions with Amalia and no one else, the fact that Yugo or anyone else was never the major topic of their conversations, and their weak abilities???

Amalia was the only reason.

This cover here is greatly deceiving you 👇

It tries to make you think they’re actually worth something by showing a smirking confident Aurora, and most of all, the osamodas king in the background covering most of the sky, implying his important place in the story while holding up a finger in a quiet gesture like he has a secret he’s keeping.

Because of this cover (and the fact that he told Aurora they should wait until after the marriage), we’ve had plenty of theories about how the osamodas king was responsible for hiring a sadida who happened to be a Yugo and Amalia hater to poison them but, again, THIS WASN’T THE CASE AT ALL.

The culprit ended up being Julith in disguise who had been ordered by Grougalorasalar!!!

AGAIN, IT WAS GROUGALORASALAR WHO ENDED UP BEING MORE MYSTERIOUS AND INTERESTING THAN THESE TWO‼️‼️‼️‼️

I want you to really think about this.

Aurora and her dad were supposed to be the center antagonists for this first volume but it ended up being Grougalorasalar the real enemy. The first chapter already warned us when we saw him in Yugo’s dream. He was the one we should’ve been paying attention to the most.

Aurora and her dad were not only just there to be inconveniences for Amalia, but they were also just pawns to distract you from something bigger and FAR more interesting.

And it worked. These two blue devils were so infuriating and brain-rotting that we got thrown off guard when we found out Grougalorasalar was actually responsible.

This only pushes the fact that the chicken and the gorilla were exactly just that: a chicken and a gorilla.

Nothing interesting or redeemable.

Just things in the way of the main goal.

Tot needed some useless cattle to begin the real plot and so he made Aurora and her constipated dad, who always looks like he’s got something up his ass, to be able to start the story off after season 4.

The signs have been there since season 4.

And season 3 was only an introduction for season 4 when it introduced some blue skank.

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randomspagetti · 9 months

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WatcherCao RoleSwap!Au

OKAY SO- I got really carried away so y'all are getting a lot of art and lore ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯. Here's a rehash of the story.

(Second Watcher is called Coffee Roll (CR sometimes for short))

Pre-Canon

Cacao, after realizing what happened to GCs kingdom, grows fearful of him kingdom and his citizens getting hurt because DE wants his souljam, so he goes missing for a century, hiding out on the DL until anyone who'd remember his face is dead.

He starts picking up jobs helping his kingdom, switching up where he works every two decades so nobody catches on. Around this time he's moved to the citadel as an upkeeper. He's in the lower staff when the witches give him his son. Because he's not flooded with work, and has more free time he's actually a good dad and Choco doesn't look for the cursed sword.

Choco is appointed first watcher and Coffee Roll is appointed king because the previous one croaked. (Being king is now a ranked position like the watchers) Time passes and Cacao is moved up to the higher upkeeper positions, Caramel, Choco, and Affo grow close, and Coffee Roll starts to realize there's more to his Upkeeper than meets the eye.

Woo big suprise Affo is a jerk who got close to the kings daughter (caramel) to be able to manipulate CR.

Broken Walls Arc

CR is becoming more pressured and stressed out by the amount of work he has. (affo making it worse so he's more temperamental) Cacao keeps trying to get through to him, realizing that affogato's intentions aren't as pure hearted as he presents. This puts strain on their relationship due to affogato painting Cao in a negative light to Coffee Roll.

Affo starts doing his usual shenanigans like turning away people who come to the citadel in need, pushing distrust in CR to the watchers. Caramel starts to notice exactly what her friend is doing, but it's too late for her to convince anyone of the truth. During this time, she finds being around her father intolerable because he refuses to listen. (Putting faith in the wrong person you bozo 😒)

This strengthens Caramel and Cacao's relationship, due to mutual understanding. Wooo to big day comes, the whole thing with COD takes place, and Coffee Roll is on the receiving end of a murder attempt by Affogato and a giant mf licorice monster. Cacao realizing that's something is going on at the wall rushes over and sees what's happening. Caramel helps protect the other watchers there while our boi Cao rushes to CRs aid. (Choco is on his way over, but he has quite a way to go)

Cacao, unarmed takes his souljam that Coffee Roll was wielding and with a glancing blow, knocks the licorice monster over the wall

At this point everyone is amazed and confused. "HOW TF DID HE DO THAT???!!" well you'll never guess who snitched; his souljam. Coffee Roll has noticed it randomly glowing at weird intervals for months now. ...almost like a compass?

Let's just leave it at Cacao has a damn lot to explain, Coffee Roll is both shocked, upset, and somewhat smitten, and Affo is going to be eating prison food for a while.

That's all I have so far! This au was really fun, here's some extra art!

I never got to coloring Caramel because I had one before that one and I hated it so I gave up

(before you ask "oh what about the gingerbrave group?" They found their way to the citadel, albeit a lot slower due to not having Caramel)

#rolereversal!au #watchercacao #watchercao #second watcher cookie #dark cacao cookie #dark cacao crk #dark choco cookie #dark choco crk #caramel arrow crk #caramel arrow cookie #cookie run kingdom #cookie run #dark cacao kingdom #art #thats yo mans?#SW unironically bagged their ancient with his ungodly rizz

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doodoodinklefart · 10 months

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ended up watching a bunch of the jjk audio dramas and then decided to draw them from memory (sorry nobara for parting your hair wrong). i love these bozos theyre all so dumb!!!! i think the main trio are so cute and silly together.. they play off of each others personalities so well idk how to describe how much i enjoy watching them interact. this is how the shibuya arc ended yw gege

#gojo satoru #yuji itadori #nobara kugisaki #megumi fushiguro #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanart #jjk art #you ever think about how much they love each other. like a little family... so crazy #gojo gives me older brother vibes more than dad sometimes but i enjoy both interpretations #genuinely i love the dynamic between itafushikugi so much it actually makes me wild and i love the three of them together #platonically or romantically honestly…. platonically romantic does that makes sense #doodooart

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communicationthroughlyrics · 5 months

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It's Time to Let Her Know What You Need, Pt. 1

What happens when a call goes awry, and your former trainee finds out?

A/N: Some assault in this part, no over the top schmut yet, folks! ;]

8.1K Words

Medical leave had always been a source of annoyance for you, you would do everything in your power to avoid being placed on the Leave of Absence list. Taking time off work had never been your strong suit. You had never been away from work for this long before, but under the doctor's orders, you had been gone for 5 months. The reason for your leave was due to a particularly bad call that you had responded to, one that you wish you could have avoided. It had started as a typical call, but every police officer gets one of those calls that permanently changes their outlook on everything as they know it.

You had been in the process of transitioning back to the graveyard shift, it had been a few years since you had worked through the shift cycle that your police department had enacted. Something about too many officers trying to enact tenure to avoid an ‘undesirable’ shift- such as graves. Most hated working the overnight shift. The 8 am-8 pm didn’t work well for most. Family, friends, relationships? They really couldn’t happen very effectively with that kind of work schedule.

The last time you had been on graves, you were training a rookie- she had started as a ride-along, curious to see the inner workings of being a police officer. She went to the academy, graduated at the top of her class, and was soon hired in the same department as you. You had been lucky enough to draw the ‘short stick’, of having to train someone. But that was what you were partially paid to do. You were a Field Training Officer, or FTO, for short. You would rather train people to behave in a way you could trust in the field, than have some bozo, and their shitty work habits bleed into the newbie's habits.

Notoriously by the book, the joke had always been that you rewrote the book. You were respected and regarded, and your superiors trusted you. That meant the world to you, considering you didn’t have the stability of that growing up. This meant that you got to train the most promising of prospects for the police department. Jennifer Jareau was one of those trainees. She was caught between a career in the government with the FBI, or working in one of the most regarded police departments in the country. Once she had broken into the ranks at SDPD, she left an indelible mark on everyone. There were regulars on her beat who loved the visits she would make to check on the community, making a presence of support known throughout all the businesses in the Gaslamp District kept her patrol’s crime down. The officers she worked with loved her infectious personality, and her “girl next door” charm.

You swore to yourself that you would never- EVER- break the work relationship rule. You knew, as a police officer, that it gets messy. People in the department that fraternized outside of it ended up hurt, more often than not. You had seen it all happen, where significant others had been extorted by enemies, or cheating, injuries, or worse yet- death on the job. Your best friend, Cearra, was on the force and had left because she had watched her partner- a paramedic, get shot in the head during an accident call. Cece had never been the same after that, no matter the therapy, no matter the time. She had taken leave to try and ‘get right’, and that is where you think she went wrong. Too much time away lets you think, it lets you stew and wallow in your pity, guilt, and grief. That is where you are now. Wallowing. Wading. Treading water.

***

“Cruiser 24 10-14 on a plate, vehicle is 10-47, driver weaving in and out of traffic, 10-18.”

“10-4. Dispatch 12, ready for your license plate.”

“Edward, Lincoln, George, Union, 6 - 7 - 1”

“Dispatch 12, confirming- Edward, Lincoln, George, Union, 6 - 7 - 1”

“10-4,” you said, keeping your eyes on the vehicle that was now parked at a gas station on the corner, both the young men looking way too young to be driving.

“10-12 Cruiser 24.” You continued to watch the kid who was driving, he went inside, came back out a short while later with some chips, and went to the pump and put the nozzle in the gas tank.

“Cruiser 24, the vehicle is 10-71 as of yesterday morning.10-39 shows plates registered to a silver Kia Forte, 2008.”

“10-4, cruiser 24 will be 10-6 on a 10-38, vehicle does not match registered tags.”

“10-4 cruiser 24.”

You drove forward, not flipping your lights on since you didn’t want the kid to run. You drove across the street, and pulled into the gas station parking lot, pulling behind them like you were about to fill your cruiser with gas. The driver's demeanor immediately shifted, and you flipped your lights on. Panicking, the driver pulled the gas nozzle out of the vehicle, slamming it into the receiver on the pump. You had already run out of your car, running forward to try and pull the driver back out of the vehicle. He slammed the door on your non-dominant hand, and you had to reach down to open the car door again, freeing your digits from the car door before he drove off. Running back you hopped in your cruiser, taking off after the burgundy Cadillac.

“Cruiser 24, 10-0 on a red Cadillac CT5, after attempting a 10-48. The driver fled and slammed my hand in the door. Broadway and 2-8 street.”

“10-4, Cruiser 24. 10-32 all units available for a high-speed chase, Broadway and 2-8, Eastbound Broadway.”

“Cruiser 24, you are clear to run code, lights, and sirens through city limits”

“10-4, Cruiser 24 will be 10-3 during chase”

You heard a cacophony of 10-4’s, units copying to move to help, but that all seemed to blend into the background as your hand throbbed and you sped through downtown San Diego. The chase seemed to last forever, with multiple units trying to utilize spike strips and pit maneuvers to disable the vehicle to complete the traffic stop. It seemed that no matter what was done, the vehicle just would not stop. They kept bobbing and weaving up and down side streets, trying to lose whoever was following them. You continued to follow them but noticed the vehicle slowing down. The kid cut across a bustling street to coast into a parking lot for a park. As soon as the vehicle coasted and slowed enough, the driver and passenger bailed out, running in different directions towards the heavily wooded ravine.

Against your better judgment, you took off after the driver, thankful for all your time spent in the gym at the police department between the weights, boxing, and treadmill, your cardio was top-notch. You could hear the faint sound of doors slamming and yelling coming after you, but everything was easily drowned out by the shortness of your breath and the pounding of your heart. You kept your head on a swivel, not quite sure where the other occupant was. You continued forward, the kid in front of you slowly losing his momentum. You were gaining on him, and looking for anywhere he might try to dip off to the side to get away from you. You battled the rocky, overgrown underbrush and steep grade, as the driver kept running deeper down the ravine.

“Police! Quit running!” You yelled, trying to get the kid to stop. He looked over his shoulder and tried to run faster.

The space between you and him continued to close, you were finally within striking distance to bring this guy down. Willing your body to run any faster, you closed the gap enough that you stuck your arm out and grabbed onto his shoulder, pulling him backward to the ground below. You both fell, rolling down the canyon's slope, trying to tackle and wrestle each other as you tumbled lower and lower, grunting with each bump that was sure to leave a bruise. You were certain you had at least bruised some of your ribs, but you weren’t going to let that stop you from arresting this kid. He began to struggle, trying to reach for any weapons you had, while you grappled with him and tried to control his arms.

Suddenly, he managed to break one of his arms free, and he grabbed your sidearm from your right hip. You feel it whip across your face, shattering your eye socket. You reach your arm around, trying to grab your baton from your left hip and feel the sharp, shooting pain, followed by numbness shoot through your arm. Before your hand could wrap around the handle of the expandable baton, there was another hand already there. You looked through your one good eye, to see the other person had now joined, and had expanded it to its full length. He whipped it across your side, you felt a rib or two crack. The sound of the gun cocking caught both yours and his attention.

“Dude, don’t do it. Don’t shoot a fucking cop, dude!” The second kid screamed.

“Shut up man! We’re already in too deep! We stole your grandpa's car, we stole someone's plates, we got in a chase, and ran! The only chance we have is to kill her and run!”

“You don’t even know how to shoot!”

“It can’t be that hard. Just point, and shoot. Just like GTA, right?”

“Don’t do it, man!”

There was a flash and a loud bang. You felt the searing pain as the bullet tore through the side of your neck. Another bang and the pain was now burning through the left side of your chest, just above where you knew your vest covered. There was some rustling, and a few dull thuds, and footsteps as the kids ran away. You pressed your hands to the respective wounds, trying to keep pressure on the wounds as you forced yourself to crawl up the side of the hill. You worked yourself up to a large manzanita bush, slumping underneath it as you succumb to the exhaustion and wounds.

***

Currently, you were seated at the island in your kitchen, staring into your cup of coffee like it was going to magically turn into an exotic creature. The last couple of months had been full of reflection, frustration, and emotion. There had been one constant throughout the recovery process, and that constant was JJ. She had stepped up, taking your place on the graveyard shift while you heal. She had just been moved over to work the admin desk, a requirement before you can be considered for sergeant or lieutenant. During the late nights when you trained her on duty, she spoke of how she desired to move up the ranks, how she wanted to be respected, and revered for her work. She never mentioned a significant other, just a distant relationship with her parents back in a suburb of Pittsburgh. She was a star soccer player and gained a scholarship to Pitt, and from there went to Georgetown.

Enamor, that was what you felt whenever she was around you. She made you feel things, things that had long been buried, that you thought you had been strong enough to hide. Between the frequent visits from JJ and the open and brutally honest conversations with your therapist, you had to admit to yourself that there were some feelings for the ocean blues that had been checking on you for the last five months. She was one of the few officers who visited you regularly. Your CO received regular updates from your doctor and your therapist on your well-being, and that is how they would determine how long you would be out of work. You have even begged for admin work, arguing that if Jennifer had taken up your post, you could do hers. They wouldn’t budge, however. You needed time to heal, which they were adamant about.

You had suffered from a double orbital fracture, 13 fractured ribs, 4 broken ribs, a torn rotator cuff, a hyper-extended elbow, a punctured lung, a gunshot to the clavicle, and a gunshot that had just grazed the side of your throat, luckily not hitting your trachea, artery or major nerves. The cherry on top of the ice cream sundae? Showing up to the boys court dates, because they thought they had killed you. But, with the compounded charges, even at 14 and 17 years old, they were charged as adults due to the nature of their crimes, and sentenced to live the majority of their adult lives in prison. Turns out, they had beaten the younger kid's grandfather, and stolen his car, along with the money he had stashed in his safe. They stole his car, switching the license plates for the plates on a neighbor’s car, thinking that would put off the cops, and not be what attracted them. It was only meant to be a joyride, but the grandfather reported the car stolen once he had gotten himself to the ER. The kids had no idea how to navigate the city, neither of them had driven yet, and that’s what led to them getting lost and not being able to flee.

Somehow, while trying to locate the two boys, no one had tracked your location down. They heard the gunshots echo through the canyon and had all but run past you, not noticing you under the manzanitas canopy. When news went out over the radio that they hadn’t located you yet, multiple searches went out, and hours later, just before they were going to call off the search for the night- JJ had found you and carried you up the steep embankment. She wasn’t even supposed to be there, but she knew that she couldn’t live without trying. At least, that’s what she told you. You convinced yourself not to believe it. She was just doing her job. What you couldn’t shake, was the few people who had seen her show up at the scene described her as distraught, asking everyone where they had last seen you, where the gunshots had come from, and immediately running towards the canyon.

When she crested the top of the hill, she was screaming for help, your unconscious body lying before her, blood soaking your uniform. Your blood had saturated her clothing from where she held your body close. Multiple people told you that they had to pry her away from your unconscious body, and she hovered and rode with you to the hospital. She spent her off days, lunches, and nights at the hospital. The nurses found out the hard way to not ask her to leave after visiting hours. They had induced a coma to allow your body to heal and conserve your energy, and when you woke up you had been beyond shocked to see a disheveled blonde asleep in the corner, a binder with administrative procedures resting spread across her chest. Her heavy breathing told you she was asleep, the bags under her eyes told you she needed it.

Everyone had been exceedingly happy that you had woken up not just for the obvious reasons, but also because they hated to see how this had affected her- as one of the rookies had so lovingly phrased it, “She’s been a nit-picky, insufferable nut job,” allegedly picking apart everyone's performance because you don’t just ‘lose’ an officer after a high profile chase like that. She had been furious that everyone ran past you, which caused your body to go into deep shock because you had been lying there for an estimated 5-6 hours before JJ found you. The chief was stuck between a rock and a hard place, so he was trying to quell any grumblings or grievances you had by giving you all the support, time, and money you needed to stay happy. He knew you could blow this up, but he was doing everything in his power to keep that from happening.

A knock on your front door brought you from your reverie, so you sat your cup down on the butcher block countertop, mumbling an “I’m coming,” to whoever was on the other side of your heavy front door, Upon unlocking the deadbolt and swinging the door inwards towards your living room, you found JJ standing on the stoop in front of you. She was supposed to be off today, but she was standing there with her over-the-shoulder holster on, a grey sweater, black jeans, and a black blazer. Her badge was peeking out from underneath the coat, and her golden tresses fell in perfect waves as she gave you a soft smile. But for you, it was always her eyes that trapped you, that called you in the dark of the night. Those eyes were in all your dreams and nightmares.

“Hey, stranger. How are you feeling today?” She asked, rocking her body back and forth, her hands in her back pockets. You had learned working with her that she only did this when she was nervous. A small smile graced your face, as you leaned against the doorframe, crossing your arms across your chest. It was at this moment that you realized, you weren’t dressed in much. It was starting to warm up being the middle of July now, so you were in a black tank top and some cut-off camouflage shorts. You also become very, very aware that you had no bra on… so there was a little bit of tune-in Tokyo happening.

“I’m okay, Jay. Getting there, slowly. How are you?” Her smile grew as you asked about her.

“Y/N, I'm not the one who got shot twice after being thrown down a canyon and pistol-whipped.” She chuckled, shaking her head.

“I know, JJ. But it’s kinda what we sign up for. I’ll manage.” Her head tilted at the remark.

“Y/N, this isn’t about managing. You need to process all of this properly.”

“I know JJ. That’s why I am brutally honest with my therapist, and take all my therapies seriously. I feel like nothing without working.” You remark, making her smile drop slightly.

“Y/N/N, your career doesn’t make you- you make you. You need to heal, to take care of yourself, so you can be the best version of yourself- because that’s what you, the PD, and the community need. The best you.” She said, stepping forward, bringing herself extremely close to you, too close for comfort. Your breathing slightly hitched at the movement, and you backed up slightly. “Have you eaten yet? I wanted to see if you wanted to go get food, or order takeout.” She asked, the shy smile coming back to her face. It had been about a week since she had last been here, but you texted and called her daily. She was trying to give you space, but in her mind, she never wanted to let you go again.

“No, I haven’t yet. I was just finishing my coffee.” You respond.

“You can’t just live off coffee, you know.”

“Tell that to the coffee gremlin living in my head, Jay.” You laugh, letting her in as you open the door wider, walking inside and motioning for her to follow. “Did you have any ideas? Anything sound good?”

“Let's just order in. The diner around the corner sounds good, though. I could seriously use one of those greasy ass breakfast burritos smothered in green chili.” You laugh at her request, nodding before unlocking your phone, scrolling through your apps, and selecting the one that this diner used for delivery. You guys had been there so much, that you had your orders saved, and just hit the reorder button.

***

You had just finished a dull shift, it had seemed that the majority of people decided to behave tonight. Just a few traffic stops, seatbelts, or minor speeding infractions were spread throughout the night. While it made the paperwork at the end of shift light, it made your night last forever. You were just finishing changing into your street clothes when JJ ran up to you. Since you were training her, you had spent all night with her, and with it being a slow night, the majority of the time was spent talking about everything. Family, friends, relationships, embarrassing high school stories, you name it.

“Hey, Sergeant Y/L/N, wanna grab a bite to eat before you head home? I’m starving, and all I saw you eat all night was a package of chocolate-covered mini donuts and a small coffee.”

“Sure, Jareau.I’ll meet you outside. Or did you want to meet somewhere?”

“I was thinking of the diner on El Cajon. Rudfords?”

“That works, I’ll meet you there. I just need to finish up something really quick.”

“Okay, I’ll grab a seat and wait for you. Coffee?”

“Please. And OJ.” You smiled as she waved and ran out to her car. You finished up submitting the paperwork for the tickets you wrote, and Jennifers' performance review for the night. You set everything on the desk of your lieutenant, before walking out to the employee lot, placing your sunglasses over your eyes, and tossing your go bag in the trunk of your car. You sped off, knowing that at this time of the day, traffic can be 50/50. You didn’t want to keep JJ waiting longer than necessary.

Today must be your lucky day, as it was one of the few times there was hardly any traffic, and you got there fairly quickly. You walked in, removing your aviators and looking around, finding the blonde sitting in a corner booth, two cups of coffee and your cup of orange juice on the table. You smiled, shaking your head as you walked over.

“Hey stranger,” you slide into the booth, smiling at her as she peers at you over the menu. “Ever been here before?” You ask, seeing her looking over all of the menu. She nods her head, indicating that she hasn’t been here before. “This is one of my favorites. Right down the road from me too. There have been many a late night I’ve indulged in the greasy spoon classics to help sober me up here.”

“Sergeant, you mean to tell me, you’re human too?!” She folded the corner of the menu down, as she whisper-shouted at you. You both started laughing just as the waitress came over to take your order.

“Hey, Y/N. Same as usual, hun?”

“Yeah, Maggie. I’ll take my usual.” You smiled, handing her the menu. JJ filed the menu back up and handed it to Maggie as well.

“I’ll get what she’s having.” She responded, smiling as the waitress nodded and walked back towards the hostess stand to put the menus away. “So, what’s your go-to here?”

“It’s a greasy, messy smothered breakfast burrito. Perfect for cheat days and days that I need help recovering from a long night.”

“Sounds good. I’m excited!” She rubbed her hands together, making you shake your head at her excitement. You both continued your conversations from the shift, getting to know one another a little bit better. Maggie slid your plates in front of you, and JJ moaned at the smell as the plates came to rest in front of the both of you.

The smell usually got to you too, but this time, you were distracted by the noise the woman across from you had just made. In the back of your mind, a little voice muttered, “shit.”

***

“OK, food ordered. Says it should be here in the next 30,” you state, setting your phone back down on the counter. “Can I get you something to drink? Water? OJ? Coffee?” You asked, turning to see the woman sitting where you had been just 15 minutes ago.

“Water, for now. Thanks Y/N.” She responded, watching as you turned your back to her, grabbed a glass, put some ice into it, and filled it from the fridge. You slid it across the counter to her, a smirk on your face. You briefly thought about running upstairs to change into something more appropriate but decided that it wasn’t anything she hadn’t seen before.

“So, Jay, I thought you were off today.” You motion to the outfit, and the badge.

“Technically I am.” She responded, a slight smile on her face as she took a drink of water. You found yourself watching as she drank, the way her neck and chest moved, the musculature making you gulp.

“Sooooo…you just like to dress in work clothes and wear your holster and badge for funsies?” She laughed, a real, hearty laugh, dribbling some more water down her chin. You reached over instinctively, wiping it away with your thumb for her.

“Thanks. But no, not for fun. Work is great and all, but far from my idea of fun,” she stood up, shrugging off the black coat and leaving her in the light grey sweater that you had told her before brought out her bright blue eyes. “I had to go pay a visit to the chief.” She responded, sitting back down with a deep sigh. Now that, that caught your attention.

“Chief? How come?” You sound genuinely concerned, but worry is more accurate. You don’t want her to move, or leave. That’s usually the only reason people go straight to the Chief of Police. Unless there’s a bigger issue.

“Relax, Y/L/N, it's ok. I have been tasked with creating better processes for chase scenarios, whether on foot or by vehicle, I can’t let what happened to you, happen again. I just needed to make sure that the department has been evaluating procedure changes. O’Connell is scared, you know? He is deathly afraid you are going to point out holes and flaws in the system, and use that for litigation for what happened. I told him you have every right to pursue legal action if you so choose because you’ve been out of work for months, and who knows how long it’ll be before you’re back.” She got quieter as she said the last part.

“I’ll be back soon, Jayje. They can’t keep me on the bench forever.”

“I know, but it’s not the same. And it doesn’t help that the entire department thought you were gone.”

“Jay, we weren’t even working the same shifts before this happened. I never really saw you except for at the gym occasionally. Once I’m back, that’s what we’re going back to barely seeing each other. I work the opposite shift of you.” She looked slightly panicked and took a deep breath.

“No, not when you come back. Part of the new protocol is going to be shared cruisers. You’ll have a partner, even as a sergeant,” she looked nervous to say the next part.

“Oh god, Jayje, what did you do?” You asked, rubbing your face in your hands.

“Once you come back on the beat, I’m your partner. I was promoted to Sergeant, they let me pick. I told them I’ll give up my bid for Lieutenant for now, they’re keeping me in admin till you come back, then we’ll be partners.” You sprang up, more excited to hear she got a promotion she had worked so hard for, and she was one of the lower-tenured officers at the department. It was just a nod to how great she is at her job.

“You’re a Sergeant now?! That’s great JJ! When did you find out?” You asked, completely grazing over the fact that she was now your partner.

“I, uhhh found out a few weeks ago. I kinda told them I wouldn’t do it unless we could work together again. I thought we made a good team.” She looked at the floor, suddenly finding her feet incredibly interesting.

“Jay,” you stand up straight, walking around the stools and standing in front of hers. She didn’t look up, so you gently grabbed her chin and pulled her face up so you could look into her eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” You ask first, wanting to get it out of the way. The pained look on her face tells you all you need to know. The FBI's body language and behavior courses were paying off.

“I wanted it to be a surprise when you finally came back.” Her eyes darted back and forth between yours. You let out a deep sigh, looking up at the ceiling before you respond. “I… I’m sorry if I overstepped… if you want to work with someone else, I understand… I just… I wanted to work with you again. I miss it. I miss you.” She finally said. Your head snapped back down to look her in the eyes, you can tell she is trying to steel her emotions and not cry. Your heart couldn’t handle the look of disappointment on her face.

“Jayje.”

“I’m sorry. I should have known I overstepped.”

“Jay.”

“I think I read too much into this.” She stood up, reaching over for her coat. You knew it was now or never.

“Jennifer Jareau.” The use of her full name caught her off guard, and she stopped to turn and face you.

“1. You’re rambling,” you held up your hand, one finger raised. The second finger went up, as you continued. “2, are you sure that us being partners is a good idea?” You motioned between the both of you, eyebrow raised in question.

“Yes, I think so. Why wouldn’t we be?”

“Because, Jay. We care too much. Not in a bad way. It’s just that, everyone I have known that worked in this kind of job and had a partner who did the same, gets hurt. Look at what happened when I got hurt. I woke up from a coma to you sleeping under a rules and procedures binder and you hadn’t left the ER for a week to keep an eye on me. You were distraught, to say the least. It isn’t a bad thing. I would be the same way with you. But, feelings get people hurt, Jayje.”

“So you’re saying that me caring, that anyone giving a shit about the person they work with is gonna be worse than what happened to you?! That someone showing any ounce of emotion while on duty to prove that we aren’t just fucking robots with a badge and a gun is a bad thing?! Jesus, Y/N, they told me you were emotionally cut off, but not like this.” She was yelling at this point, and you heard a knock at the door. Your food arrived. Walking away from this conversation probably wasn’t your best move, but you did it anyway. You turned around, to see her putting her blazer back on. “You can have the burrito, Y/N. I’ll get something on my way home.” You sighed, setting the bag down and turning around, watching as she began walking to the door.

“Jay. Stop.” She kept walking to the door, not showing any indication of stopping. “JJ. Don’t leave yet,” she continued to the door. “JENNIFER.”

“WHAT?!” She turned to you, her eyes full of tears. “WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT?!” You surged forward after haphazardly throwing the food on the dining room table and wrapped your arms around her smaller frame. You had always stood taller than her- the only time she was close was when she had to dress up and wear heels. She continued to cry, beating her fist into your sore chest without much thought. You continued to hold her tight to you, rubbing her back, and kissing the top of her head without much thought. The only thoughts running through your mind were how stupid you were to make her feel like this, and how natural it felt to hold her like this. You took a deep breath before continuing, just like you had rehearsed with your therapist.

“JJ, I think you may have misunderstood what I was trying to say, doll.” You whispered to her, knowing that her head was probably going to be hurting from how hard she was crying.

“No, I didn’t misinterpret you. I read you, loud and clear, Y/N,” she sniffled, pulling away from you enough so she could look up at you.

“Well, JJ. I would hate to start any partnership off like this, but, you’re a terrible liar,” the look of confusion all over her face made you want to laugh, but you stifled it for this moment. She gasped, slapping her hand onto your chest, where she had just been beating it with a fist, which was also right where they had to go in and fix your collarbone. You winced and made her jump.

“Shit! That’s where your incision is! Fuck! I hurt you! I’m so sorry!” She panicked, backing away from you, tears forming again.

“Jay, JJ… it’s fine. Look. I’m fine,” you walked up, running your hands up and down her arms. She relaxed into the motion before you continued. “What I mean is, and forgive me if I am putting words in your mouth, but you and I care too much for this to just be a ‘normal’ partnership… I think it is safe to say that you are one of my best friends in the department, and I would go completely scorched earth, off the books unhinged to protect you. Whether it was legal or not. I wouldn’t care if it costs me my career, you mean more to me than that…” You tapered off, seeing the blank expression on her face. “Jayje? You in there?”

“Huh? Yeah, I am. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You shrug, dropping your hands to your side, and began fiddling with your fingers. “I guess what I mean to say, Jayje, and I am terrified to say this out loud,” you stop, collecting your thoughts before you continue.

“Whoa, hun, there’s nothing you can tell me that is going to change my perception of you.” JJ settled forward, now comforting you.

“This…this might, Jay. This is our entire relationship, and if you don’t want to be around me after, I don’t know what I’ll do.” You ramble, your inner terror boiling up to the surface.

“Y/N, look at me,” she waited for you to look her in the eyes before continuing. “There isn’t a damn thing in this world that’s gonna keep me away from you. If you want me here, I will be here.” You gave her a watery smile before continuing, not wanting to fall back within yourself and chicken out but not telling her at all.

“JJ?”

“Yeah?” You let out a deep sigh before continuing.

“I love you. I am in love with you. Not just in a, ‘we’re best friends’ kinda way.”

“Oh.” She said, her gaze falling to the floor, scanning around for something that she could deem as interesting.

“Mhhmmm. Yeah. So… yeah.” You begin to back away, not liking the response from her so far, but she grabs onto your hands, pulling you back.

“Well, Y/N,” her hands dropped yours, before reaching up and tracing patterns on your chest. “I guess we’re both lucky.”

“What do you mean?”

“To have a partner that cares so much.” It was your turn to stand there with a distant expression, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. She laughs, bringing you out of your reverie. “Y/N, god, I love you, and how smart you are. But Jesus you are acting like a dumbass right now. Quit overthinking it. I think we are in the same boat here.” She smiles, wrapping her arms behind your neck, sending goosebumps up and down your spine. “See?” She sent you an earth-shattering smile, but your body reacted on an impulse. Sliding both of your hands to the sides of her face, you pulled your face close to hers, her breath hitching as she anticipated what was next. You gently nudged your nose into hers, making those cerulean eyes open.

“You sure about this, Jay? This is a point of no return.” You ask, making clear that she wants this too, giving her an out if there is even an ounce of doubt.

“Y/N, just shut up. Kiss me, I’ve waited long enough. I. Have. Feelings. For. You.” She smirked as you ran your thumb over her supple, pink lips. There was a sharp inhale, as her eyes darkened at the notion. You lean in, slowly, brushing your lips across hers, a ghost of a kiss. You had never been one to believe in the whole, “fireworks” or “electricity” bit when someone described a kiss, but if you had to guess what they meant- it was this. The feeling of her lips on yours caused your brain to short-circuit. Slanting your head, you find your actions are happening on autopilot- you lean in, firmly pressing your lips to hers. Finally, after so many nights of imagining what these lips would feel like pressed to yours, you know. You are simply amazed at how little effort this takes, giving into the dizzying yet daunting decision to tear down this barrier in (what had been, to this point) a very professional relationship.

Her soft lips continued to move against yours, her hands running through the back of your short hair, from your neck up to the crown of your head. Yours ran down her sides, wrapping around her hips and lower back, pulling her closer to you. There was a muffled croak from the back of her throat, and a dull ache in your chest from the lack of air becoming more nagging. You unwillingly pulled away, resting your forehead against hers, your eyes closed as you catch your breath. Her hands continued to run through your hair, massaging your ears before they come to rest on the side of your face. A deep breath escapes her lips, and you both open your eyes,

“Hey, stranger.” You mumble, nuzzling your head into her neck, inhaling the calming scent of vanilla and coconut that you have come to know well over that last few months, as she has been here regularly to check on you.

“Hi.” Her quietest voice responds, you can tell she’s shy about what just happened.

“Jay?” You pick your head up, looking into her darkened irises. “You ok?”

“Scared, a little bit. But never better, honestly. I have wanted that for so, so long.” She whispers.

“Why are you scared, Jayje?”

“Because, you’re right. If something like this,” she motions to your neck, her thumb tracing of the pink scar that was developing from the burn trail of the bullet. “Ever, happens again, I have no idea what I’ll do.”

“Hey,” you grab her chin, making sure her attention was on you. “I know, and I know we can’t make guarantees in this line of work, but just know this- I will do everything, and I mean everything I can to come back to you.” Her eyes watered a little bit, so you brought your hand up to run your fingers through her golden hair, resting your hands at the nape of her neck.

“You can’t promise that, Y/N.”

“Yes, I can. I can’t promise that something won’t happen. But with what I can control? I will always fight, and do what I can, to find you. To come back to you.”

“Y/N…” JJ focused on your eyes, not watching or sensing that you were pulling her close to you once again.

Your bodies held the same heat, the same desire as before. Only now, it is palpable, tactile almost. You pushed your lips together once more, feeling as though the world was melting away. Her calming scent overwhelms you, sending your mind into a daydream, a trance, if you will. Her whimpers and moans added to the scintillating touches that were being spread across your body. Instinctively, you lower yourself, your hands running from her shoulders, down her back, over the swells of her ass before you tapped the back of her thighs. No words are needed, she lifted one leg to wrap around your hip, with your assistance. Swiftly and efficiently, you brought her other leg up, and had her completely enveloping your body. She raked her nimble fingers through your hair, gently pulling the hair on your head back as you began to walk her to a more appropriate location.

It was times like this when you were glad you lived in a ranch-style house, the only steps you had to contend with were the three to your front door, and two down into your bedroom. Tossing her down onto your bed, her tresses fan out behind her head, as she looks you over with her softest, expectant gaze. Her arms stuck out, as beckoned you closer.

“Too much space, baby. I need you. I need to know what I’ve been missing.” She husks, as she props herself up on her elbows, watching you step closer.

“Patience love, you’ve waited this long. Let’s savor this moment.” Holding onto her chin, you pull her face up to meet yours, as your knee comes to rest in between her spread legs at the edge of the bed. You slowly begin working off her coat, sliding it down the toned arms you had found yourself staring at a multitude of times, especially at the gym when you both worked out together. You both explored the depth of each other's mouths, this time was more fervent, more profound. The hands that had been resting on your bed now moved to remove the barrier that was keeping you both separate. You eagerly grasped the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head as you broke the kiss apart to rid yourselves of your clothes. She worked the tank top up your body as far as she could in her seated position, growling at the product of hours spent in the gym, particularly of late. She hadn’t worked out with you since your medical leave, so the 3-hour, 7-day-a-week regimen took your physique to the extreme.

Goosebumps erupted as she ran her nails down your chest and stomach, you flexing on instinct and lolling your head back. Remembering that you were in the middle of removing your tank top, you lifted it completely and threw it off to the side. JJ’s eyes immediately drifted to the scar on your collarbone, and the scar that now wrapped around your underarm. She traced them delicately with her finger before she enclosed her arms around your back.

“No bra today, hmm?” She kissed your now barren chest, her hands gently scrubbing up and down your back.

“To be honest, Jay, I wasn’t anticipating any guests today.” You purred, leaning her back down till she lay fully underneath you. You began to unbuckle her belt, slowly unbuttoning her inky black jeans, and unzipping them at a torturously slow rate. You began kissing down her chin, nosing behind her ear before gently nibbling down her neck. You paused, causing a whimper to leave her lips as you slid the denim off of her legs. Instantly your mouth began to water at the sight of her bare legs in front of you. “No panties today, hmmmm?” You mock her tone from earlier, taking in the sight of her before you, nearly nude. Groaning, you roll your head back, before leaning back over her.

“To be honest, Y/N, I wasn’t anticipating taking my pants off with an audience.” You smirk at her sarcasm, kissing down her collarbone, and to the swells of the tops of her bosoms. Her bra is the only thing between you and seeing her fully.

“Well, darling, there’s a first time for everything.”

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