#just a little something to get you through my two week finals hiatus

[bluebeary-jay]

If I could hold you for a minute

Javier Peña x f!Reader

Summary: Javier wants nothing more than to go home to you. And thanks to his partner's generosity, he gets to.

Tags: just pure FLUFF, mayyybe a sprinkle of suggestive humor, established relationship, Steve teases Javi a bunch, Javier is a BIG SIMP (i'm serious)

Warnings: none ♡

Word count: 3.3K

A/N: something different for you guys 🙈 i'm sadly still on semi-hiatus because of my finals, but I managed to finish this little fic as a break from my angsty Joel pieces. i reaaaally hope you all will like it 😌💕 also, it's dedicated to my dumbass in crime @lily-inbloom 🫡😘 luv you babes

This was one of the worst days agent Peña had in a long time, and he wanted nothing more than to go home.

First, two people from Escobar’s inner circle managed to escape the raid on the laboratory in which he and Murphy participated, leaving both of them exhausted and frustrated. Then Melissa gave Javier a bunch of shit because of some documents, and on the way to his desk some asshole bumped into him, making him drop and break his phone. And now they had to stay after hours to wait for Carrillo.

“It’s for you, Peña.”

So yeah. His day was shit so far.

His pity party was cut short when Steve sitting across from him hissed his name again. Javier shot him an irritated look and flipped him off, not in the mood to talk to any informants or their superiors.

“Not now, Murphy,” he grumbled, but his partner still handed him the stationary telephone from their desk, ignoring the hostility radiating from the man.

“Just take it, asshole. She’s worried you’re not answering her calls.”

At that, Javi sat up straight and in a split second took the handset from Steve, pressing it to his ear.

“¿Querida?” he asked quietly, paying no attention to Murphy rolling his eyes and chuckling to himself. There was a sigh of relief on the other end of the line and he furrowed his eyebrows in concern. “Is everything alright?”

“Hi, Javi,” your voice came through the receiver. “You weren’t picking up.”

Almost instantly the tension was lifted from Javier’s shoulders and he exhaled deeply. You had a talent of putting him at ease, even when you weren’t by his side.

“Lo siento, cariño. Some idiot broke my… you know what, it doesn’t matter. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, just wanted to ask when you finish work? I can swing by and we can go grab some food on the way home.”

He sighed tiredly, rubbing his brows. He hated saying no to you and if he could, Javi would give you the world on a silver platter – but some things, he didn’t have any control over.

“No sé, cariño. We have a shitton of papers to read with Steve, and we’re waiting for Carrillo to fill us in on the latest action. I’ve got no idea how long it’s gonna take, sweetheart.”

Steve lifted his head and shot Javier a teasing look, but Peña ignored him, turning his chair to the side.

“Alright, so what do you say I’ll bring you some takeout? You can also ask Steve what he’d want, I’ll be at this place we went to a week ago–”

“No, querida, no,” he sighed, this time with affection. Your voice was a temptation enough to throw everything to hell and run home to you, but to hear the kindness and love in your words, without even seeing your expression… It was heart-clenching. “We don’t need anything, you just go back home safely. I’ll try to get away from here as soon as I can.”

You didn’t answer at first, but then hummed half-heartedly.

“If you say so. But please, eat something.”

Javi smiled absentmindedly, covering his eyes with his fingers. He imagined your concerned expression, the receiver nestled next to your ear, near the spot he so liked to nuzzle with his nose. “How do you know I haven’t already?”

He could hear a trace of a smirk in your voice.

“I know you, Peña.”

“Too well, I think.”

“You love it, though.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, maybe.” He heard you yawn and the smile disappeared from his face. “You’re tired.”

“No, I’m not. I’ll get to bed when you’re back.”

“I won’t be home for at least a couple more hours, sweetheart,” Javi told you softly. “You can go to sleep.”

“I’ll wait for you,” you repeated stubbornly.

“You don’t have to.”

“I know, cariño.” There was that sweet, teasing note in your tone, and a grin spread across Javier’s face again. “But that will just give you more reasons to come home quickly.”

“I’ll try,” he just offered in a whisper, resting his forehead on his fist. “Call Steve if anything happens, alright?”

“Okay, okay, I will.” Long since gone were the times you’d argue with him about that. You knew how terrified he was at the thought of losing you. “I love you, baby.”

“También te amo.”

He didn’t immediately hang up, waiting just in case you wanted to add something else. The line went dead, however, and with his lips pressed Javi put the phone back in the center of the desk.

“You have it bad, Peña.”

Of course. Javier should’ve known Steve will start to nag at him again.

He reached into his pocket for a cigarette and put it between his lips. He knew you’d complain about the smell on his hair and clothes when he got home, but he was already too stressed out and in a desperate need of a smoke.

“I’m not in the mood, Murphy,” he muttered, pulling out the lighter.

“I thought a conversation with your sweetheart would brighten up your day?”

Javier looked up and just as he suspected, Steve had that same stupid grin on his face, like every time the topic was brought up.

Ever since your and Javi’s relationship became more serious, Steve was taking every opportunity to tease his partner. If Javi was feeling generous, he could kind of understand where his friend is coming from – after all, he himself didn’t think he’d ever act like a dumb teenage boy in the presence of a woman. But something about you mesmerized him from the very beginning, and, miraculously, here you both were, in a steady and loving relationship Javier Peña was always afraid of hoping for.

But alas, it was not a day to be understanding. He glared at Steve when the fellow agent didn’t take a hint.

“Shut up.”

“I wouldn’t say no to a food delivery, you know,” Steve spoke up with a smirk under his mustache. “I’m quite hungry.”

“I’ll sooner hire Escobar to make you sandwiches than let her do it.”

“You wound me, Javi. And to think I was about to take care of Carrillo and let you go home early.”

Javier looked up in surprise at his friend’s knowing smile. Then he blinked, slowly and tiredly, wondering if he didn’t misheard.

“Really?” he asked suspiciously, to which Steve shrugged.

“Why not? I’m in no rush since Connie and Olivia are in Miami, and as funny as it is to watch you yearn and pine, your brooding gets annoying after a while.” Javi didn’t move from his place, so Steve nodded in the direction of the exit. “Just go home to her, Peña. Before I change my mind.”

The face of the agent broke into a smile before he could collect himself. He stood up so quickly that he bumped his hip against the desk, but it didn’t phase him one bit. With a quick shove across the desktop, he swept all the documents to the folder and took his gun from the drawer, tucking it into his jeans.

Murphy was watching him with a smirk.

“You owe me, Javi.”

“Sure,” his partner replied over his shoulder, grabbing his jacket. “I’ll get you a sandwich tomorrow.”

A quiet laugh followed him when Peña promptly ran out of their office.

*****

After the call with Javi you tried to find yourself an occupation, intending to stay up as long as you could. He was working like crazy lately, sometimes not even coming home for the night, so a chance to finally spend some time with him – even if it would only be for half an hour – was something you didn’t want to miss.

So you wandered around his apartment. You read a little, watched TV, tidied up the cutlery drawer, folded Javi’s shirts, and now you got onto washing the dishes left from your dinner two days ago.

You were humming quietly, that stupid song which seemed to play on every radio as of late, when you heard a small sound from the hall. You paused and turned off the tap, your heart pounding in your chest, and sure enough there was it again – but this time you clearly recognized it as a key turning in the lock.

Before you could think of what to do, the door opened and Javi came in, locking eyes with you immediately. You blinked slowly, rooted to the spot with your hands lifted, still covered in water and soapsuds.

“Javi?” you asked in surprise. “What are you doin–”

Without saying a word, Javier came up to you in two long strides and put his hands around your waist, dipping you back and kissing you deeply. You made a noise in your throat, moving your wet hands aside, but then sighed contentedly as his lips caressed yours.

“I missed you, cariño. So much,” Javier murmured, not moving further away from your lips than two millimeters apart. “Couldn’t wait to get home to you.”

“But what about– Steve, and…” you tried to ask during those brief moments when he gave you a second to take a breath, but was unable (and unwilling) to move away when he was holding you so tightly.

“They’ll be fine,” Javier murmured, moving his hands to your cheeks to cradle them tenderly. “Steve said he’ll handle it.”

He firmly pressed his lips to yours one more time, his eyebrows scrunched with affection. You didn’t ask anything else, instead wrapping your arms around his neck, still careful not to get his clothes wet. After almost a minute of tender kisses and whispered Spanish phrases, Javi rested his forehead against yours with a content sigh. His eyes were closed and he just hummed when you nudged his nose with yours.

“You weren’t supposed to be home for the next few hours,” you said quietly.

“It was a damn torture. I couldn’t wait, hermosa,” he murmured and exhaled heavily. “God, I needed this.”

A bright smile spread across your face at the thought of this man thinking about and longing to see you so much. He sounded so stressed out and tired over the phone, but now it was like all nerves left him for just a moment.

“Do you want me to make you something to eat?” you asked in a whisper, but Javi shook his head.

“No. Just stay here.”

“I have to rinse the dishwashing liquid off my hands, though. And you need to take a shower.”

“Are you saying I smell?”

“A little. But I mostly mean the cigarette smoke on your hair.”

Javi sighed, murmuring something under his breath. You gave him a peck on the lips. “Go on, cariño. I’ll get everything ready and then we can lay down.”

Javier grumbled, displeased, but didn’t argue any further. “You’ll have to make it up to me, sweetheart.”

“If you manage to keep your eyes open.” Your comment made him crack a smile and you mirrored it. “Go shower. And then come back to me.”

Javi sighed but obediently went towards the bathroom, putting down his aviators and the gun on the table on the way there. You watched him fondly, your heart still swelling with love at how relieved he looked to see you. He must’ve felt your attention on him, somehow, because he turned around in the doorway and sent you a smirk.

“If you like the view so much, you can hop into the shower with me,” he teased, and you hummed, pretending to consider it.

“I would, but then it wouldn’t be a ‘quick shower’.” He smiled knowingly, and you scrunched your nose at him. “Javi, the longer you stand here, the less time we’ll have for cuddles.”

“You raise a good point, hermosa.”

With one last look he disappeared in the bathroom and you shook your head at his antics. A few seconds later you heard the sound of rushing water, so you hurried to your shared bedroom to get everything ready.

You pulled down the blinds and flipped the pillows to the colder side, and then swiftly changed into one of Javier’s shirts you liked to sleep in. You also took his gun from the table, knowing he preferred to have it within reach when he was resting with you.

Earlier that day you started to clean the cupboards, so the room was pretty messy. You spent a couple of minutes putting the piles of clothes and various knick knacks in their places, trying to be as quick as possible. Then you heard the water in the bathroom stopping, and it only took Javi two more minutes before he emerged from the bathroom in nothing but his boxers.

His hair was wet and chest bare, and exhaustion was marking his handsome features, painting shadows over his face. Without a second of hesitation Javi went up to you and wrapped his arms around your middle. You wanted to say that you’ll be done in a moment, but didn’t get a chance – he hid his face in the crook of your neck, grumbling tiredly, and started dragging you backwards to the bed. You swat at him with laughter, but those strong arms of his just held onto you tighter.

“Cariño, I still have to finish–”

“Leave it. You don’t have to do anything.”

“Javi…”

“Come lay with me, mi sol.” He softly pressed his lips to the sensitive skin on your neck, making you shiver. You felt him smirking. “Come on. Please.”

You faltered at this word, so rarely used by him. He sighed into your shoulder and swayed you two gently from side to side.

Javi was right. Everything else could wait.

You lifted his hand to your lips and kissed his knuckles gently, feeling him relax behind your back.

“Alright,” you murmured. “Come here, baby.”

He hummed and kissed your neck again, then your shoulder, sneaking his hands under your – technically his – shirt.

“Have I ever told you how pretty you look in my clothes?” he asked quietly.

“Every time I wear it.” You felt him take a breath, but you beat him to it. “And don’t say they’d look even better on the floor.”

Javi chuckled and hugged you tighter, still slowly moving backwards with you. “Not this time. Just wanna have you in my arms.”

“You mean in your bed?” You couldn’t help but tease him, and yelped when he bit your neck lightly.

“Don’t tempt me.”

When you two reached the bed, Javi stopped and slowly turned you around before sitting down. You took his face in your hands, staring down at him lovingly, while he gently ran his palms up and down your thighs. He did look tired, with the exhaustion and sadness swimming in his beautiful dark eyes. After a moment he exhaled shakily and leaned forward, resting his forehead on your stomach.

“Wanna lie down?” you whispered softly, and he nodded without a word. “Okay. Come here.”

You gently released yourself from his hold and laid down, immediately reaching for Javier and tugging him to lay on top of you.

The moment his head touched your chest, Javi exhaled heavily with relief, closing his eyes. You ran your fingers through his hair, brushing the wet strands aside.

“Do you need anything?” you asked quietly, but he just muttered 'no' with a light shake of his head.

“I’ve got everything I need right here, querida.”

You grinned warmly, though he couldn’t see it. “You’re quite a romantic, Javier Peña.”

He chuckled under his breath, lifting himself slightly to meet your adoring gaze. “I thought you already knew all about it.”

“Did I?” you asked playfully, to which he lifted his head.

“What more can I tell you?” he murmured, leaning over you and smirking when your breath hitched in your throat. His brown irises danced across your face, drinking your features in. “Do you wanna hear how all I think about while working are your lips and the sound of your laugh? How the time spent together isn’t nearly enough for me to fully revel in you? Or…”

“Okay, that’s enough,” you said sheepishly, making Javi grin victoriously. “You’re probably spending that time in the office not thinking about me but of ways to mess with me.”

“Tal vez, mi sol.” He pressed his lips to the corner of your mouth and moved lower, whispering into your skin. “But I do wish I could spend more time with you.”

“I know, cariño.” You brushed his hair to the back with your fingers, scratching his occiput. “But it’s not your fault.”

He hummed without conviction, still busy kissing every inch of your skin he could reach. One of his hands went to your waist, his thumb tracing small circles there, while the other climbed up to your hand, entwining your fingers together.

“Didn’t you want to get some rest?” you asked breathlessly, trying to keep your composure. Your face was hot, and Javi hummed smugly at the pitch of your voice. He lifted his head and brushed your cheek with his knuckles, his hand still holding yours.

“I wanted to spend time con mi hermoso sol.” He touched his forehead to yours lovingly, gazing deeply into your eyes. “I was serious when I said you’re all I need.”

“I think you need some sleep, too.”

Javi grumbled, seemingly giving in, and kissed you sleepily one last time. His eyes were already closing and his mustache scratched your skin lightly.

“No, querida. Just you.”

*****

The next morning, Steve came to work to the sight of Javier trapping you with his arms against his desk. He was leaving soft pecks on your lips every once in a while – so unlike the Peña Murphy had known before – murmuring something to you with a smile, causing you to giggle, too. You tried to slip out of his grasp, but Javier just pulled you closer. The pair was obviously lost in the moment because neither of them noticed Steve, until he threw a pile of files onto his desk.

“Morning, guys,” he said nonchalantly, eyeing your bashful beam and Javi’s crooked smile with a smirk. He noted that his partner looked way better than yesterday. “D’you get any sleep?”

“Actually, I did.” Javier gazed over at you and squeezed your hand with this look of a lovesick puppy that Steve mocked so often. “Don’t remember the last time I’ve slept so well.”

“Happy to hear it, because we have a lot to do today.” He sat down and began organizing the notes from Carrillo’s report yesterday, wanting to fill his partner in as soon as possible. He heard Peña sigh.

“Of course.” He glanced up to see the other man stand up and kiss you lovingly – once, twice – before you lightly shoved him back onto the armchair. Steve rolled his eyes when Javi brought your hand to his lips, leaving one last lingering kiss, and then finally letting go of you.

“I’m gonna be late because of you,” you accused him, but he only smirked.

“Lo siento, cariño. Have a good day.”

You said your goodbyes to Steve and turned back to the exit. Murphy shook his head and met his partner’s dark eyes, sparkling with adoration.

“You really have it bad, Peña.”

He didn’t receive any answer, so he just smiled to himself and got back to arranging his desk.

He didn’t get a second of peace, however, because suddenly a paper bag was dropped on the documents he was just filing. Two – a bit squashed – sandwiches were peeking out from the brown paper.

Steve lifted his head, ready to throw another teasing comment, but Javier’s eyes – still full of that raw love – were focused solely on your figure leaving their office.

*****

querida - dear/darling

lo siento, cariño - I’m sorry, darling/honey

no sé - I don’t know

también te amo - I love you, too

hermosa - beautiful

mi sol - my sun/sunshine

tal vez - maybe

[allforhee]

ੈ✩ — 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐅𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 (ONESHOT) | PARK SUNGHOON

୨୧ pairing — streamer/gamer!bf park sunghoon x fem!reader

୨୧ synopsis — dating sunghoon was like flipping two sides of a coin. on one side, it felt like you were dating the sweetest introvert known to man. but on another side, you felt like he was the loudest extrovert (and gamer) that ever lived. you tried living with it, in this little bubble. but when sunghoon starts acting sensitive and eventually forgets your anniversary, that fragile bubble finally bursts.

୨୧ genre — non!idol au, established relationship, angst BUT with a fluffy ending cuz why not, shy!sunghoon but open when he's only with you

୨୧ warnings — cursing, sunghoon being forgetful, miscommunication trope (i'm sorry), bottling up feelings, arguments between you and hoonie :(

୨୧ word count — 1,752 words, 9410 characters (NOT PROOFREAD (cause midterms sucks ass))

୨୧ author's note — sorry for the mini hiatus y'all i have my midterms!!! #busygall but y'all have seen gamer!bf hee, but what about sunghoon? i feel like he's quiet on the outside but his gamer side is so.. this for my ice prince (but with a heart of gold) girlies... sorry for the angst!!!!!!

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐄𝐓 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐌.

opposed to his loud and obnoxious friends, he tended to let out a small chuckle instead of a crackling laugh. at first (and around you), he was like that.

obviously you two liked each other in secret, because sunghoon didn’t know what to say, and you weren’t sure if he liked you back.

so when you two started dating, where you would stay over at his place more often (and eventually it felt as if you two moved in together), was when you found out about his gamer side.

turns out, behind the striking radiation of his monitor, was a completely different sunghoon. instead of his usual quiet self, he was loud as any other streamer. you could practically hear his laugh echo through his apartment as he did his streams.

you didn't want to disturb sunghoon in the middle of his streams, so whenver you needed something, you'd text him (even if he won't reply immediately, it was a good try).

but over time, you got more comfortable around each other. sunghoon even told you that "it's okay sweets, just call my name and i'll respond."

so you did. you started with little "what do you want for dinner?"s and a "i'm gonna go to sleep, okay?"

the first few times you'd do that, sunghoon would answer with a sweet "um, do you mind getting some takeout?" and a "okay sweets, sleep well."

but then, he would get easily irritated. his sweet replies turned into sharp responses like "just get whatever you want, i don't care."

you understood that you were bothering him. you saw on his screen how he was losing the match (maybe? you didn't understand what he was playing), and you didn't want to anger him further. but you knew at one point, the bubble would one day burst.

it was a friday. but it was your 6 month anniversary. you had everything planned, you planned a dinner with him, and got him presents. you especially got him a custom made keyboard keycap with your initials engraved, and one of a little penguin. you were determined to make today special.

you woke up at seven, seeing your boyfriend's still sleeping figure, ready to start the day by making some fresh waffles for the two of you before you had some uni classes at ten.

you had everything decorated, the waffles drizzled with honey, and a little sticky note next to it that wrote "happy 6 months hoon <3" and two cups of steaming hot coffee.

you got ready and dressed up, waiting for sunghoon to come down. the clock's hand at the number 8. but slowly, the hands on the clock that hung on his wall moved. from 8 to 9. the ice in his coffee slowly melting. the waffles no longer warm with the love you made for him.

you wanted to wake him up. but after his sensitive behavior at you a couple weeks prior, you were scared.

when your phone read 9.50, you realized that sunghoon wasn't waking up anytime soon. so you packed your bag and wrote a little note under the previous sticky note reading "i'm off to uni, enjoy and i can't wait for tonight :)" to let sunghoon know you were at uni. so you left.

thankfully, you only had 2 classes, so by 3pm, you were on your way home. you were excited to see sunghoon, half expecting him to wait for you by the door with his arms open.

you were lucky you hadn't expected 100% that sunghoon would be there. because the moment you stepped in your shared apartment, you felt emptyness.

the plate of what once was filled with waffles on the table was half eaten, his now empty glass of coffee sitting in the sink, and the sticky note you'd left on the ground. it wasn't crumpled or anything, but you were hoping he atleast read it.

knowing it was a friday and that sunghoon would be back from uni at 5, you determined to get yourself ready for that night.

you wore his favorite dress. you did your hair the way he liked. you had everything ready for him.

you sat in the living room waiting for sunghoon to come home. the time on your phone read 5.03pm. he should be wrapping up his classes now.

but you knew this feeling all too well. this feeling of deja vu as the clock's hands slowly moved from five to six. six to seven. seven to eight. before you knew it, it was almost 11pm as you were in the bathroom washing off the streams of dried mascara from when you were crying.

the moment you heard the apartment door open, you had no expectations. even if a little piece of you hoped that he'd come home all dressed in a suit, a hanful of flowers, and a plausible excuse to his lateness.

but as you stepped downstairs, makeup slightly washed off from the dried mascara, was when the words "what are you all dressed up for gorgeous? it's 11pm," slipped from his mouth. finally, that bubble burst as your fractured heart finally broke into pieces.

there he was, still in casual wear, hair slightly a mess, clearly reeking of alcohol. he was out partying.

that's the moment sunghoon sobered up. the sound of your sobs. never in your six months of dating has he ever seen you in this state. yes, you had arguments left and right, maybe some tears from rewatching la la land for the hundredth time. but never this.

"no no no, sweets what's wrong?" he asked, his once drunken eyes now filled with worry as he tried to pull you into his touch.

"you don't get it sunghoon, do you?" you snapped at him, swatting his hands away. you never used his government name. it was always hoonie, or baby. but never just sunghoon.

"get what sweets? why are you wearing my favorite dress? if you had told me this i would've come home earlier." sunghoon defended.

"you seriously forgot? you ate the waffles, drank the coffee, i even wrote you a note! were you just so caught up with your stupid games that you just forgot?" you ranted. you had enough.

"what sticky note? i woke up at ten and the place was practically empty, i saw the waffles on the table and the coffee and i just assumed that you made breakfast and left for uni." sunghoon proclaimed.

"you know what? i'm gonna go to bed. i can't handle you anymore. just go scream at your monitor, or- whatever." you sighed, heading upstairs into your shared bedroom.

sunghoon sighed, his hands on his hips, before running a hand through his hair. at that moment, he spotted the small heart sticky note under the dinner table. he hunched over and grabbed it, before he read what you had written on it.

the moment it clicked, he rushed upstairs. your six months. six. he can't believe he forgot.

as he stepped into the bedroom, he saw you in that dress, about to take it off. his favorite dress. "sweets i'm so sorry-"

"sorry won't cut it sunghoon. you've been so sensitive lately and all i wanted was to spend some time with my boyfriend! but no, you just had to play your stupid video games." you argued.

"no, you're the one who's been so distant lately! so i've been occupying myself with those stupid games to distract from my thoughts that maybe you would break up with me!"

"but that doesn't justify the fact that you just plain out forgot and left me to rot here!" you screamed at his face.

"i was out with the boys because i was trying to figure out how to tell you i love you!" he confessed, head hung low.

your once dried eyes filled with tears once more. in a panic, sunghoon cupped your face in his hands slowly wiping away the tears away, before you buried your face in the crook of his neck, trying your best not to break into pieces.

"i think we need to work on our communication." you mumbled in the crook of his neck.

"what do you mean, sweets?" he asks, slowly caressing your hair.

"because i love you more, hoonie." you whisper in his ear.

"that's impossible." he pushed you away from the crook of his neck, wiping away your tears as he pushed your hair away from your face. he looked in your eyes with a dashing smile.

his smile felt so infectious, that you couldn't help but shoot him a smile back, "because i love you most, sweets," before he kissed you.

his hands were painfully warm compared to your cold touch, a side effect of hours of waiting in the cold living room.

you smiled into the kiss, pulling away to take a deep breath, spotting sunghoon staring at you like you were his whole world, before you dove into another kiss.

"sweets, you know how much i love this dress on you." he mumbled into the kiss.

you pulled away and let out a laugh, "oh i know, it was supposed to be my little gift to you."

"oh but i probably deserve a punishment for making your heart break like that, i mean you were crying for hours! i'll do anything, what do you want?" sunghoon asked, ready to give you what seemed like the world.

"take a break from playing your games." you asked from him. looking into his eyes.

"well that's not as bad-"

"for a month."

"no no no i can't do that! you know the money i earn from my streams basically funds your shopping habit. i mean how am i supposed to dress you up in such beautiful dresses?"

you chuckled at his response, blushing at how affectionate he was being. "how about just two weeks and i'll make you breakfast every morning? or i could play animal crossing with you?" sunghoon begged.

you sighed into him, finally giving in knowing how much he hated playing animal crossing. he just thought it was stupid and there was no challenge to it. "okay. two weeks, breakfast, and animal crossing. but could you at least teach me how to play your games with you though? i feel bad that you have to hear me yap on about my favorite villagers."

with a chuckle, sunghoon kisses your temple, "for you, always."

taglist; @desistay

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© 𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐇𝐄𝐄, est. 2024 | do not plagiarize, modify, translate, or repost my works on any platforms.

[celestialsequels]

stupid cupid keeps on calling me, but i see lovin’ in his eyes ¡! ❞

— synopsis: jimin takes you on a museum date.

— warnings: fluffy, a couple of kisses here and there, jimin and y/n being complete losers for each other.

— w/c: 1.7k

— part 1

a/n: guess who’s back from hiatus. thank you for being so supportive and considerate over the last few weeks as i was gone. this one is for you guys and i hope you guys enjoy it !

•

after being interrogated by yeonjun, you rushed home as fast as you could. every part of you jittered in utter excitement. the evening glow had began to radiate off of you ever so slightly as you thought back to the events that took place earlier—the way her lips felt on yours, the way she gazed into your eyes as if you were the last person on earth.

yeah, you were so done for.

your steps seemed to have their own rhythm as you walked home, all drowned in your thoughts. everything around you seemed so much happier. the people around you felt like they were more in love than ever. the murals painted on the buildings you walked past felt as if they were speaking to you. hell, even nature blushed when you smiled. you finally reached home and entered through the backdoor, since it always seemed to be open. you quickly took your shoes off, almost stumbling onto your cat, flipflop, as you made your way inside. you threw everything onto the ground and headed upstairs to your room to get dressed for your date.

hangers? on the ground. accessories? on the ground. your entire wardrobe? on the goddamn ground.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“jun, nothing looks good on me. i’m starting to think this date was a bust,” you pouted as yeonjun did nothing but laugh at you.

“maybe try that outfit you always say you’ll wear but never actually end up wearing,” he suggested when he sensed you had been silent for too long.

you ushered yourself to your pile of clothing that remained still on the ground for the past hour, simply hoping that something would begin to look appealing. suddenly, an idea popped into your head and you just knew this was going to be the outfit of a lifetime—okay, you were exaggerating, but at this point, it was better than nothing. yeonjun simply stared at you pacing around the room in what seemed like excitement but was, in fact, insanity. he had never seen you so eager yet so anxious about meeting a person; this was definitely something out of the ordinary. it made his heart swell with joy, finally seeing you so happy after so many years.

“you know, y/nnie, i’m really happy to see you all happy and chirpy after so many years. i never thought i’d see the day,” yeonjun spoke softly as you admired yourself in the mirror with a fond smile.

“jun…she truly makes me so happy. my worries seem lighter than a feather when she looks into my eyes. my soul feels lighter when she places her lips on mine. she makes me feel whole. god, i sound like a sap,” you chuckled at your own words as you realized that this girl was all you wanted.

“you are a sap, little shit–”,

before he could let out another word, you threw your half-eaten, almost-rotting pudding cup in his face.

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it was nearly seven-thirty, and you only seemed to be getting more and more anxious. you started to ponder at what the future held for the two of you, thinking about nights when you two wouldn’t be able to sleep, so you’d spend it in the kitchen together, or when life might get a bit rough, and you’d find comfort within each others’ arms. the thought of living together made you blush a little harder than you would like to admit. the sudden ring of the door bell jolted you out of your thoughts, practically making you jump in front of the mirror to check if you looked perfect—and that you did, just oh so perfect. yeonjun’s snores seemed to emphasize as you made your way out of the room, not before kicking him in the shin as you ran to the front door.

“You—,”

his words zoned out as your blood rushing through your veins was the only thing you could pay attention to. you propped yourself in front of the door, giving yourself military-grade advice, but who were you kidding? not even a defibrillator could put your heart at ease. you peeked through the peephole of the door to make sure it was jimin. opening the door, and there she was. her hair flew in the crisp evening wind like the finest hazelnut spread. her eyes bore into yours as you finally opened the door after what felt like an eternity. a distinct silence fell between the two of you as your hearts soared with passion. the music playing from your ipod playing in the distance had you wanting to grab her hand and pull her as close to you as possible.

“pack it up, you two, i’ve gotta get in my beauty sleep,” yeonjun spoke up from behind you, scaring you two in the process.

“uh huh, okay,” you eyed him suspiciously since you knew damn well he wasn’t the type to sleep this early but chose not to say anything else.

“take good care of her jimin otherwise…” he threatened playfully while leaning against the wall.

“okay, hobbit,” jimin reached for your hand and pulled you out the door with her before giggling at her own joke.

adorable, you thought.

you two ran before you could hear him yell out anymore curses. soon, you heard the door shut and you two stopped running. Your entire body turned red as you realized you were gripping onto her hand for dear life. the crickets chirped from the nature surrounding you two. a calm yet fervent tension settled between you like an expecting nebula.

“you look so pretty tonight,” she broke the silence, mentally cursing herself for sounding like a loser.

“and you look all mine tonight,” your boldness surprising the two of you as the both of you turned into a giggling mess. of course, you two were losers in love, but you were each others’ losers, and that’s all that mattered.

after about half an hour of walking and flirting, you two finally reached the art museum. solace taking over you two as you floated in your little microcosm full of love. the lights shone down upon the entrance, colors displayed all over like an orchestra. mellow music could be heard from the speakers as you dragged jimin to the progress of love: the meeting. the viridian of the painting speaking directly to you while your eyes traced down the two lovers that sat patiently. jimin didn’t say a word given that you were so invested into the artwork, so she just let you tug her around the entirety of the museum. her eyes outlined your face whenever your eyes filled with sparks of interest at whatever you were looking at. her heartbeat intensified whenever you reached for her hand so she could pay attention to what you were saying.

“jimin, look, it's the lovers by rené magritte. i had to work on it for art class; it was fascinating—”

before you could say more, she eagerly pulled you in by the nape and placed her soft and succulent lips onto yours. all air was knocked out of your lungs as you still hadn’t gotten used to her lips being on yours, moving ever so fervently while her hands remained on your nape, gently playing with your hair. the lights in the museum suddenly dimmed, and the cold temperature of the room hastily became warmer. jimin’s fingers hovered across your arm, causing goosebumps to form all over your body. a few flower petals began to fall all around the room as you slowly pulled out of the kiss only to find jimin cheesing at you.

candles lit up right on time as she put her hand out for you to hold so she could show you exactly what she had in store for you. every part of you was radiated happiness. the entire museum fell into a soothing silence as jimin walked you outside into the garden. the entire garden was decorated with candles, with petals creating a walkway to the picnic she had prepared for you.

“jimin...is this all for me?” you questioned in surprise as you had never been treated so gently.

“pretty girl, everything i do is for you,” she turned a few shades redder when she saw you looking at her with the most admirable gaze. you smiled to yourself, realizing in the moment that this was the love of your life, whether you wanted to admit it or not. out of the blue, a small note sitting on the blanket caught your eye, causing you to curiously go examine it.

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“hi y/nnie…

i left you a polaroid camera

because i knew you would forget it at home.

go make memories with your future wife

- love jun”

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“so, this is why yeonjun told me he was going to sleep early?” you chuckled in disbelief as you recalled back to how they were eyeing each other down earlier.

“mhm, i wasn’t gonna say anything but you know how he is,” jimin responded behind you.

“jiminie, i really want you to know how loved i felt with you tonight. i-i don’t think i’ve ever been treated so softly before. you’re my person and i want you to know that,” you admitted tearfully.

“baby, you’re my person too. i adore you too much to ever treat you wrong. i didn’t think you’d like the date this much, so i was slightly nervous,” she spoke to you, affectionately rubbing her thumb over your cheek.

“you are my favourite date,” you said before pressing your lips onto hers.

the lights of the museum had completely turned off, leaving you two all alone in the garden to make memories. candles swaying along with the zephyr of the night. the flowers serenading with the music that was once playing from your ipod at home.

you two were finally home.

stupid cupid keeps on calling me, but i see lovin’ in his eyes…

[thankskenpenders]

Happy new year, everyone! Welcome to 2024, the year that will mark the 10th anniversary of Thanks Ken Penders. I'd like to go over my plans for the blog for this year.

First of all: in the very near future, I'll have a post with my thoughts on Sonic Dream Team, and I'm sure I'll write one last Sonic Prime review once the final episodes drop on the 11th. I've also been sitting on an unfinished piece about the Sonic LEGO sets. I wanted this to be longer and more detailed piece that not only reviewed the sets but also went into the weird disconnect between homogenized image of Sonic the Brand and the actual fiction it's based off of, but it'll probably end up getting cut down a lot just so I can put something out. Let's just say I did a fun little thing with one of the sets.

Second: yes, I would like to return to regular TKP updates this year. As I've said many times, I wanted to do this in 2023, but I've been suffering from creative burnout after finishing SLARPG and have generally been unable to focus on any of my creative goals this past year. I'm hoping that this year will be better and I'll be able to get back into the swing of covering Archie Sonic issues. Even doing one issue every week or so would be vastly preferable to continuing the hiatus. I'm still only halfway done!! But aside from burnout, my other main hurdle is that I need to reread my own archive to refresh myself on all these things after nearly three years away. This will take some time.

The thing is, though, this year I'll have an extra incentive to go back through my previous writing and brush up on all things Archie Sonic. Because you see...

I've decided that I want to make a video essay about Penders. The comics, the copyright battle, The Lara-Su Chronicles, everything.

The why

I've thought about doing this before, but I never committed to the idea. I was too busy with gamedev, or I thought it'd end up being too long, or I figured that there were already enough videos on the subject, or I just lacked confidence in my ability to put together a video essay. So I told myself it wasn't meant to be, and let the multiple YouTubers who have cited me as a source on their own Penders videos fill that void.

Recently, though, a few things have happened that have convinced me it might be time. For one, YouTube video essays/media retrospectives/etc. are just getting longer and longer. When Quinton Reviews is out here doing 21 hours of videos on Sam & Cat, a subpar Nick sitcom that only lasted one season, I don't feel so crazy for wanting to make a video about several hundred comic books and two lawsuits that'd be at least an hour or two long lmao. Admittedly, I've also been self-conscious about doing a long video essay like this as a trans woman who has yet to do any vocal training. But these days I feel like I see a lot more transfem YouTubers who have done little to no vocal training, and that's given me more confidence on that front.

But the big one was Hbomberguy's recent plagiarism video. As I sat there watching it, I kept thinking about the time I found a CBR article that was just a crude 800 word summary of my two previous articles on Penders, published by a CBR writer who's put out over 4000 articles since 2019. If I've already been plagiarized before, and my writing is so frequently passed around as a go-to source on Archie Sonic drama, then I wouldn't be shocked if there were YouTubers out there straight up just plagiarizing me. I don't watch other peoples' videos on Archie Sonic, so I'd never know! So if people are just gonna paraphrase me when covering these topics anyway, why not take matters into my own hands and make what I would consider to be the definitive video on the subject? If hacks like James Somerton and iilluminaughtii can churn out these shitty video essays and people will still watch them, surely it can't be that impossible to make my own, right? (And also, uh, Hbomb literally told me I should make the video lol. If you're reading this, thanks for the encouragement.)

The what, how, and when

So here's the plan.

Part of this video essay will be an adaptation of my Medium article on the recurring themes of Ken's Archie Sonic run, with its content touched up and expanded upon. There were a few things I skimmed over in the article because I didn't want it to get too long, but again, people are out here watching ten hour videos about bad Nickelodeon sitcoms now. I can get away with elaborating a little more. I can add a few paragraphs talking about the Chaos Knuckles arc, or throw in a little more historical context I've discovered in the years since.

After covering the comics, the back half(-ish?) of the video will be dedicated to the copyright battles and their ensuing controversies, trying to give an accurate picture of what actually went down, the sheer scale of how bad Archie fucked up, and what our takeaways should be. This will have some similarities to my New York Magazine article on the subject, but I'll be rewriting it from scratch. I REALLY had to keep things short for that article because I was already way over the expected word count, and my tone was a little more straight-laced than normal because I was trying to keep things Professional. I can riff more and insert more of my own opinions this time, like I normally would.

I'll inevitably have to touch on some of Ken's Bad Tweets when discussing things that have happened after the lawsuits, but I don't want the video to just devolve into a list of times people got mad at him on Twitter, so I'm gonna try to keep that to a minimum in favor of focusing on his actual work. Things like the Scourge the Speed Demon incident and his continued statements on certain characters' copyright statuses probably warrant mentioning, though. And finally, assuming that the book really does come out this summer, I would like the grand finale of the video to be about those first couple chapters of The Lara-Su Chronicles.

I don't currently know when this video will get done, but it'll probably be in the back half of the year, especially with me waiting for the book to either drop or get delayed yet again. But I've actually already started writing a bit of the script, and will keep chipping away at it for a while.

So, uh, yeah, look forward to that? Wish me luck?

[minaturefics]

There Will Be Time

Request: I have a request for Boromir x reader! (My favorite of yours is "Anything But This"). What if Boromir survived the Uruk-Hai ambush by getting pierced by just one arrow, was saved by Aragorn and helps pursue the orcs to save Merry and Pippin? He still carries the wound of the arrow and the guilt of attacking Frodo, but his internal and external wounds begin to heal by falling in love with a shield-maiden of the Rohirrim.

A/N: Thank you for waiting! I actually wrote part of this before my hiatus and finished it recently so hopefully it doesn't feel too disjointed!

Boromir x Reader

Fem reader

Content warnings: Vague mention of battlefield carnage

3.9k words

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It was day but the sky was dim and overcast and tinged with an ominous red that bled from the horizon. The clamour and chaos from the city and the citadel seeped through the walls of the Houses of Healing, and even the matrons and patients were restless with the mustering of the army. You paused by an archway, staring out at the plains, still dotted with blood and bodies, and looked to the horizon. In a day or two, the people will march. And the fate of Middle Earth would be determined. 

You carried on along the corridor, cradling your bandaged arm, wishing you had accepted the healers’ suggestion of a sling, and searched for Eowyn. It had been a terrible day in Dunharrow when you realised she had gone off with the army. Your princess, your future queen, but more than that, a friend, a sister almost. You had ridden after them, arriving just in time for the battle, and your heart had shattered when you heard Eomer’s cry of anguish on the field. 

You rounded a corner, eyes still half-focused on the horizon, and collided with someone. Pain flared in your arm and you hissed. The other person let out a pained groan and a sharp exhale. Righting yourself, you looked up at them and saw a familiar face.

“Boromir?”

He looked better than he did the past week, laid up in bed, pale and delirious with fever and infection from the arrow wound in his shoulder. It seemed that the matrons finally allowed him out of bed and granted him a bath, for his hair was damp and his beard was trimmed. Colour was coming back to his face and he looked more like the strong man you saw a few months back when he had stopped by Edoras to borrow a horse. 

“My lady,” he said, astonished. “My apologies, I was not watching where I was going.”

“I am equally at fault. I was distracted by the sky.” He nodded, understanding. “I was looking for Eowyn, have you seen her?”

He chuckled a little, the smile softening his face to something cheeky and boyish. “She is with my brother. The last I saw of them they were talking on one of the balconies. I think it is best we leave them undisturbed.”

“Oh.”

“Indeed.” He grinned. “Though, if you are in need of some company I will happily volunteer my own.”

Your acquaintance with Boromir was still a fresh one; he had not come with his companions to Edoras and instead had gone ahead to Minas Tirith. It was visible to anyone that Faramir had some amount of admiration and interest in Eowyn, but it puzzled you why Boromir always seemed to come along to the rooms where you and Eowyn were staying when Faramir visited. And when Faramir and Eowyn were lost in their own conversation, you would speak to Boromir.

Seeing him up close and at length, it was easy to believe the stories of bravery and valour about him that spread to Rohan. He spoke with a sureness and an authority, logical and bold with his opinions. But of course, none of the stories mentioned how quick to laugh he was and how freely smiles came to him, and of course, there was no mention of the endearing  avuncular fondness he seemed to have for the hobbits.

 Still, there was a grimness to him, a darkness that seemed to pass in his eyes every once in a while, his expression turning from elated to guilty when he spoke of the halflings, particularly Frodo and Sam.

Was there something there? He had said that the fellowship had become separated when the Uruk-Hai attacked, but he always omitted the reason for the separation, or what drove Frodo and Sam to be foolhardy as to continue on the quest alone.

“My lady?” Boromir said, a frown forming on his face. 

“Forgive me, I have been lost in thought,” you said. “Your company would be delightful.”  He offered you a fleeting smile and the both of you drifted towards one of the small balconies overlooking the fields. You rested your arms on the cool bannister and gazed out at the carnage. 

“I wish I could go with the soldiers to The Black Gate,” you murmured. “I feel guilty that I am unable to fulfil my duty to my people.”

“I understand what you mean,” he said, voice low. “To have my father so recently gone, and Faramir and I here… It feels as though the House of the Steward is shirking its duty.”

“But you have done your duty — shepherding the ringbearer, travelling by yourself from Rohan to Minas Tirith, wounded, to warn your people. But me?” You could not help the note of bitterness that seeped into your voice. “I did not fight at Helm's Deep, I left my people at Dunharrow, arrived just in time to join the battle here and still managed to wound myself and fail to defend my lady Eowyn.” 

“I would tell you not to be so harsh on yourself, but I think it would be hypocritical of me.” He gave you a wry smile before his face grew serious again. “Though, my time away from my city and the hours I have spent alone here in bed have made me question how I value pride and valour and duty. It has made me wonder how easily the pursuit of such things may warp one’s actions.”

You eyed him, curious but cautious. The red light on the horizon only served to highlight his handsome features. The line from his brow to his nose was strong, and his chin was lifted, still proud and noble even in such dire circumstances. And his eyes, all grey and cold steel, were burning with intensity. 

Would it be better to be tactful? Or would directness be best with a man like Boromir? 

“Did something occur on your quest?” you asked, trying to keep your voice light. “Such thoughts rarely arise without some sort of event to drive them.”

He paused and looked at you, his gaze hardening then softening. He let out a long breath and shook his head. “You must forgive me. You have been frank with your… perceived failings, but I fear I am still too proud of a man to admit my own. Perhaps in time I will forgive myself enough to share my shame.”

You nodded slowly. “I hope when the time comes you will find in me a good enough friend to speak of such things. Sometime in… the future.”

“Ah yes, the future. Here on the cusp of destruction, can we even speak of such things?”

“I must confess, I have lived so long in the shadow of the Enemy, I am uncertain what I shall do with myself once it is all over.” You sighed, wistful. “My family rares and cares for the horses that the Rohirrim ride on — it is how Eowyn and I met as children — I was to carry on the tradition but… More swords were needed, and I felt a need to stand by and protect Eowyn while she was still restrained by the trappings of her position.”

He hummed. “I am the same as you — I do not know what I shall do once we have victory and peace. I suppose either my brother or I will take up the mantle of Steward. Faramir is far more suited than I am, so I’ll have to find some way to occupy myself.” He grinned. “Maybe I shall take up smithing or music or… weaving.”

You laughed, lightness slowly filling your chest. “All those things require patience, Boromir. Are you sure you have enough supply of it?”

He chuckled. “We will have to see. I have not had much time in my life to explore what else I may pursue and enjoy.”

“I am the same. Maybe I will join you in your smithing or music or weaving.” 

Another laugh burst from him and suddenly he looked young and boyish, his head thrown back, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and your heart leapt from your chest. You turned away from the horizon and looked towards the comforting warm light of the torches. “We should make a list.”

“A list?”

“Yes, to ensure we have a good variety of activities to try. At the very least, it would serve as a distraction for the time being.”

“Very well.” He gestured towards the corridor, a wide smile on his face. “Lead on, my lady.”

-

Boromir frowned at the paper flower in his hand. The binding’s tension was uneven and the delicate paper was mangled and creased. Merry and Pippin had somehow convinced him to help them make decorative flowers in preparation for Aragorn’s coronation. The hobbits had shyly offered to create something for the high table, and Aragorn, forever fond of his little friends, had given them free reign. 

He sighed and tossed the ruined flower off to the side. 

You came through the archway and into the little alcove the hobbits had commandeered and smiled at him in greeting.

You were dressed in a set of borrowed clothes and your hair was done up in a simple braid. The Gondorian cut and style complemented your figure, and you stood strong and healthy and radiant. His eyes lingered on you for a moment, before he looked back down at the table. You were not for him, never for him. If you knew the depths of his treachery, there was no doubt you would scorn him.

The last couple of weeks were spent in a wild fervour. Between managing the city with Faramir, he had attempted the activities on the list he shared with you. You had excelled in the wood carving, your little bear more detailed and fine than his, but he had bested you at the loom, his piece of fabric coming out more smooth and even than yours. Pottery, painting, gardening, juggling, needlework — the both of you attempted whatever your injuries allowed.

He adored the way you looked when you were concentrating. Your eyes were downcast and focused, your brow just slightly knitted, and you had this endearing habit of tilting your head just so when something vexed you. Each time he met with you, he searched for ways to elicit your smile, fumbled with something just to get you to laugh, even at his own expense. What a privilege it was to see the respected and stalwart shield-maiden soften and melt. It was even more of a privilege to watch you with the horses.

The old stable master had taken to you instantly, curious and interested in what you had to say about the care and rearing of horses, and nearly every morning you had gone down to the stables to check on the animals. He had watched as you taught the shy stableboys how to braid the horses manes, your deft fingers working the strands, and listened as you told them what sort of grains and seed were best for the foals.

You seemed to come alive in the stables, eyes bright and smiles brighter. Was this what you looked like unburdened by duty and responsibility? Was this what you could become, always?

The stablemaster was old, due to retire, and perhaps…

He shoved the thought out of his mind. 

You were friendly enough with him, playful and affectionate with your comments sometimes, but if you knew the truth… How could someone like you, loyal and strong, look past his mistake with Frodo? No. It was better to keep you at arms length, as a friend. Whatever disappointment you felt with him would be more tolerable.

“Having trouble?” you asked, plucking the ruined flower from the table and holding it up to the light. 

“You are welcome to give them an attempt if you wish,” he said, gesturing to the empty seat beside him. “Valar knows we’ll need more hands if we are to finish these. I can teach you.”

You slid into the chair and watched as he moved through the steps. The flower looked better than its previous counterpart but it still looked a little wrong somehow. “Where are Merry and Pippin?” you asked, taking a sheet and mimicking his steps, folding the paper and trimming the edges.

“They have gone to visit Frodo and Sam.”

“And you did not follow?”

He shook his head and kept his eyes fixed on the sheet of paper. In truth, he had already gone to see Frodo. There, in the quiet and privacy of Frodo’s room, Boromir had wept and fallen to his knees, asking, nearly begging, for forgiveness. Frodo’s eyes, so wide and expressive, had softened and watered. He clasped Boromir’s hand, bid him to rise, and gave his forgiveness right then and there. 

But how could it be so simple? So easy? Was there not some sort of trial, some sort of penance, that he must perform to earn such forgiveness? 

You let out a little gasp of delight and presented your flower to him. It was beautiful and well formed, the petals fanned and splayed, the perfect facsimile of a blooming flower. “You know,” you said with a smile. “This is probably one of the more agreeable activities we have done.”

He wished he could spar with you, to connect with you in the mutual language of battle,  but alas, your injuries and his were still healing. He rolled his shoulder, the muscle still stiff and sore from the wound, and grimaced.

“It is still not healing well?” you asked, lowering your flower.

“The infection from before did more damage than previously thought. It is healing, just slowly, the matrons assured me.”

“Merry and Pippin told me how you faced the Uruk-Hai by yourself. Truly, a remarkably brave act.”

He deflated a little in his chair, thumbing the edge of the thin paper. “Bravery did not enter into my mind at that time. I thought only of my friends who, at that time, were neither ranger or soldier.” 

“Still, it was a brave act.”

“Brave… but not strong.”

“Boromir,” you said, exasperated. “The fact that you are still alive now is testament to your strength.”

“It is not the strength of body I am speaking of but rather the strength of will.” He shook his head and forced a smile onto his face. “What am I speaking about? These are merry times and happy days — we should not dwell on such ill things of the past.”

You paused, eyeing him. “Just as our bodies sometimes fail us, so do our minds. In Rohan, we learn in our training that it does us no good to fault and blame our bodies when they cannot perform as we wish — it simply gets in the way of learning, and more importantly, healing — it would seem remiss to not extend that same grace to our minds.”

Grace. Forgiveness. Gentleness. He had never been able to afford such luxuries, not ever since his mother died and he and Faramir had to grow up all too fast in the shadow of Mordor. Faramir seemed to be easing into the position of Steward comfortably, looking far more at home in the office than he did in the barracks, and even Eowyn was getting on well in the Houses of Healing. 

People were… moving on. Or at the very least, trying to. 

He picked up a sheet of paper and began folding it, binding the middle and trimming the ends. He started to unravel the petals but only managed to put his thumb through it.

 Could he move on as well? Was he allowed to?

“Here, like this,” you murmured and reached over. “Slowly. Gently.”

You guided his fingers, and right in his hands, his flower bloomed.

-

Early morning light glowed through the open ends of the stables. The air was warm and musky and you inhaled, relaxing into the familiar scent of horse and hay. The stableboys were yet to turn up for the day and you took your time greeting the horses individually. One of your favourites, a beautiful black steed with a glossy coat, nudged your outstretched hand and dipped its head while you stroked it affectionately. 

There seemed no end to the post-war celebrations with the coronation beginning a stream of parties and dinners, lunches and teas, but finally after nearly two weeks, the city was blessedly calm. You pressed your forehead to the cheek of the horse and sighed. He was warm and solid, grounded and real. The days and nights had passed like a dream. Boromir, smiling at you over the rim of his mug. Boromir, meeting your glances across the room. Boromir, taking you into his arms, your bodies moving in sync with the music.

He had been so close, so warm. His smell, salt and cedar, enveloped you. You had looked up into his eyes, the candlelight flickering in them, and nearly leaned in.

The horse snorted and you stepped back. What were you thinking? There was no time for such things. You were still yet to find yourself in this new world of peace, King Theoden still needed to be buried and mourned. Eowyn would return to Minas Tirith in due time — Faramir had all but formally proposed, waiting for the mourning period to be over — but what about you? 

Eomer had assured you that if you wished to return to Rohan there would be a place for you as part of the personal guard but was that something you even wished for yourself? 

Minas Tirith had grown on you. The bustle of the morning markets, the distant bell that tolled every hour, the ivy covered walls, the polished marble. Boromir had even promised to take you to Dol Amroth to see the ocean one day. And Eowyn would be here in Gondor.

It had been so lovely working with the horses and the stableboys, your muscles remembering the things you had been taught as a child. It felt like some part of you, long dormant, was finally waking up. The stable master had mentioned that he was planning on retiring soon. Perhaps you could speak to Boromir and Faramir about filling the post. 

You hummed to yourself. With Boromir retaining his position as Captain of Gondor, there was something deeply satisfying about the thought of caring for the steeds he and his men would ride on. 

“My lady?”

You turned and found Boromir standing by the entrance of the stable. He was in his casual tunic and trousers, and his hair was lightly tousled. Boromir looked the best liked this, just slightly dishevelled, loose and relaxed. 

“Good morning,” you said. “It’s early, even for you.”

“I wished to speak with you. You and Eowyn will be heading back to Rohan in a few days and I wanted to discuss something with you before you left.”

You tilted your head, curious. “Very well. Let us speak outside.”

He nodded and the both of you made your way out to a small open balcony that overlooked the rest of the circles. The air was warm and balmy and the scent of freshly baked bread wafted on the breeze. Boromir stood beside you and surveyed the city. 

“I never thought I would see the day where there was no shadow on the horizon, that my people would wake and live in peace.”

“Yes,” you murmured. “There is change in the air, a renewal. It is quite exciting to witness.”

“Speaking of change…” He turned to face you. “I am sure you are well aware that our stable master is thinking of retiring. Faramir and I have been discussing and we were wondering if you would be open to fulfilling the position.” He glanced away then back at you. “You and I will be working with each other, of course, with regards to the Calvary. Before you accept, there is something… something I wish for you to know.”

His eyes swept down and his jaw tensed. “Go on, my friend,” you said gently. 

“The Ring… I had tried to take it from Frodo. He had gone off to think and I had followed him. In my weakness, I —” He swallowed. “That was why he had continued on alone with Sam.”

You had suspected as much, gleaned from his various comments and the way he would both keep his distance from Frodo but be overly courteous in his presence. “The Ring had tempted many over the years. I do not think any less of you. And… this may be presumptuous, but knowing you, I suspect you were motivated out of love for your city and your people rather than any personal gain.”

He exhaled, short and sharp, and a wry smile crossed his face. “You know me too well.”

You shrugged. “We are friends, are we not? Friends and —”

You snapped your mouth shut and looked away. What were you going to say? ‘More’? How foolish. The man had just offered you a job, for Valar’s sake. He was a friend. A friend.

“And?”

You hazarded a look at him. His eyes were wide and his lips were parted in disbelief. Was it possible that…? 

“I… I do not know,” you muttered, and he deflated a little. His mild disappointment emboldened you and you continued. “Sometimes, I think I see more in your eyes, but I can never be sure.”

“You are not mistaken,” he said, straightening his shoulders and meeting your eyes. Your heart sped up and hope sparked in your chest. “But I do not wish for this to sway your decision in accepting the position. I —”

“Either way, I would accept. I do accept.” You smiled. “Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to oversee and care for the steeds of Gondor. Except, perhaps,” you added softly, “being able to be by your side.”

A smile broke out on his face, open and unguarded, and the years fell away from him. He offered his hand, palm up, and you reached out, intertwining your fingers with his.

He chuckled and shook his head. “Faramir has always berated me for my lack of romantic tendencies and I always dismissed him. For the first time, I wish I had paid more attention in my poetry classes.”

“I do not need to be wooed with poetry and flowery words, Boromir.” You laughed and he pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. “Besides, it is not our way.”

“What is the Rohirric way?”

“Sometimes courting couples braid the manes of each other’s horses, weaving in their family’s colours or tokens. Wealthier families exchange horses to show that their horses are healthy and well-trained, that they can be trusted with the care of their partner, to carry and support them through life.”

He nodded. “I like that. It is practical and… sweet, in a way. I would offer to give you a horse, but I have just given you a stable full of them I suppose.” You laughed and he shared a smile with you. “In seriousness, I wish to court you properly. I understand that you will have to go back to Rohan, and there are matters to sort out. But when you return to Minas Tirith…”

“Yes. Whatever you wish, yes.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Whatever I wish? A dangerous thing to say.”

“I trust you.”

He leaned in and kissed your temple, his warm breath tickling your hair. He smiled against your skin and drew back.

“So yes,” you murmured, grinning. “Whatever you wish.”

___

I really wanted the reader to have some sort of arc/development as well, and not just act as some developmental catalyst for Boromir - I hope that came through.

@mileycyprus-hill

[strawberrymilk-sunshine]

Watching u <3

I've been working on this for a while. Off and on since late June. Believe it or not, I have actually been having ideas throughout my entire hiatus, it was just a case of not being able to really write anything down...

This is probably darker than some of my other stuff, I just feel like I should say. Please do not read this if you're uncomfortable with this. Thank you, and have a good day/afternooon/night.

Warning(s): yandere behaviors, explicitly fem reader, death, some sexist stuff (it's not as bad as it probably could be but it's there), incel Idia I know he isn't in canon please don't be mad at me for making him one in this fic, delusional yandere Idia, non consentual kiss, blood hemorrhage mention, unwanted comments about reader's body, implied past trauma, doxxing, breaking and entering

It was a long day of boring classes for Idia. Today was one of those days he was forced to actually attend class in person... ew. He hated it, being around people for that long. But he had a test today, and apparently the professor didn't trust him enough to do it remotely from his dorm room.

Luckily though, Idia had something to look forward to. At the end of the day, when he gets back to his dorm room, almost exactly... something he looks forward to all week will finally start.

What is this thing he is so looking forward to?

Well, what other than your weekly livestream, of course!

He loved everything about you.

He knew everything there was to know about you. He even knew your name, despite you hiding your identity behind a fictitious catgirl persona~

(Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N). He loved that name of yours. It felt like honey in his mouth as the words spilled out of him... calling you by your real name without you knowing~

Idia considered you a friend- no, even MORE. He wasn't friends with you, no no no no no! You were his lovely little girlfriend! Cute and submissive and everything... ohhh, he loved you so much. Hearing your voice... listening to you... answering you like you were right next to him... donating to you every time you streamed, copious amounts of money... participating in chat every now and again, to have an actual dialogue with you... he didn't like talking with other people, oh, but he ALWAYS made an exception for you.

You two have even started chatting outside just your streams. He's a mod for your streams now, as well as on your personal server... you were a bit apprehensive about that at first, but don't worry, he convinced you!

One time, you confided in him about some... serious issues you went through irl. It was so cute, imagining you in that situation.

Oh, you've been through so much together... you're practically dating at this point! Oh... but maybe he should actually ask you, just to make sure you know you're dating him. Just in case. Just in case.

Idia happily logged onto your stream, anxious to watch you... and to pop the question later~

But as he logged on... he... he heard you... say... something...

"Sorry I wasn't able to stream last week... something came up in my real life!" He saw your semi-3d avatar smile, responding to your real expression, no doubt. "I know it sounds crazy, but somehow... I'm dating someone!"

At first, Idia decided to optimistically think about how, maybe you're referring to him... but, as the pre-stream chitchat continued... it became obvious you weren't.

...

HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO HIM?!

In a fit of anger, Idia unsubscribed and blocked you on absolutely everything.

...but then, he thought of something. A nice plan... one that would hopefully make you dependent on him... you'd dump whatever loser you're dating right now... and he would be your only source of comfort.

He unblocked your accounts on his main... and then, he logged onto an alternate account, one that doesn't connect back to him in any way; sorta like what you tried to do with your stream persona, but actually unconnected, unlike yours.

He sent you a message from his sock puppet...

Your stream ended for the day, and... you were confused to see a message from an account you didn't recognize. You thought that maybe it was just a fan deciding to message you, as you get that a lot, but once you accepted the message request to see what they sent...

[xNDRWRLDx] : this u?

...you saw... a picture of yourself... one a family member of yours posted a few years ago... you tried your best to make sure that your online persona didn't connect back to your real life at all, so... how... how did this person get this picture?!

As terrified as you were, you chose to ignore this message. About an hour later, you received another.

Despite your thoughts, screaming at you to not give this person the time of day... that last message just set you off. You decided to respond.

[xNDRWRLDx] : ignoring ppl is rude

[xNDRWRLDx] : u know that, right?

[xNDRWRLDx] : or is ur thick skull not able to comprehend that

[xNDRWRLDx] : lmao yeah, thats prob the case

[xNDRWRLDx] : u could get a much higher paying job if u quit streaming & decided 2 use ur tits & ass 2 ur advantage

[xNDRWRLDx] : getting railed all day would b easier than streaming. u wouldnt have 2 pretend u have a personality beyond "uwu im a girl who plays video games arent i cute??"

You suddenly saw a string of numbers appear on your screen in the next message from this person. Is that your IP?!

[n3k0-ebi] : who tf are you??

[xNDRWRLDx] : o right, u said smth abt not being comfortable w/ talking abt stuff like that

[xNDRWRLDx] : lmfao weak much??? cant even take a joke

[xNDRWRLDx] : wat a pathetic excuse of a human

[n3k0-ebi] : whats your angle dude

[n3k0-ebi] : are you just trying to make me mad on purpose? it wont work, so just leave me alone.

What could this person know? Just what you look like in real life?? As much as you don't want people to know, it... it isn't that bad. You're not going to pose like that. You're not even going to give this person the time of day anymore.

[xNDRWRLDx] : look familiar?

[xNDRWRLDx] : just saying u would look adorable laying under me w/ ur mouth agape & drooling w/ ur eyes half shut <3

[xNDRWRLDx] : maybe if u send me a pic of u looking like that i might consider not sharing wat i know w/ ur entire audience

[xNDRWRLDx] : ur choice bitch

You log off for the night, not giving any more thought to this person's likely hollow threats.

The next day, you woke up, not realizing what happened over night.

You took a nice, relaxing, early morning shower...

Strangely enough, as you left your washroom, you could have sworn you'd seen a strange, blue light outside your hallway window. Probably just your eyes playing tricks on you... or light reflecting off something...

You make your way to your living room, and sit yourself down on the couch, comfy in your bathrobe and hair towel. You turn on the tv so you can half watch whatever comes on, and focus the rest of your attention on browsing Magicam.

...

...that's a lot of notifications.

You decide to look through your mentions first, and... you see a post from that account that was messaging you last night. It details your full legal name, your address, your partner's name, your parent's names, your homeland, every personal detail you could think of was listed in this post.

In a sudden moment of not thinking, you decide to message them.

They... they just sent you... a picture of you coming out of your shower... and then another, of you sitting here on the couch-?!

[n3k0-ebi] : what the hell is wrong with you?!

[n3k0-ebi] : you fucking doxxed me?!

[xNDRWRLDx] : i told u it was ur choice didnt i

[xNDRWRLDx] : u chose 2 not send me that pic i wanted

[xNDRWRLDx] : so really its ur own fault <3

You look out your living room window... but you don't see anybody.

[xNDRWRLDx] : ur not responding?

[xNDRWRLDx] : rude

[xNDRWRLDx] : little missy cant think of anything to say huh

[xNDRWRLDx] : idk wat i expected lmfao

[xNDRWRLDx] : typical 4 a female pretending 2 know stuff cant even hide ur identity properly

[xNDRWRLDx] : wat an idiotttt

The next month is a chaotic one.

Being stalked by so-called "fans"... yourself and your family members being sent weird letters and death threats... your regular workplace firing you... your family and friends cutting ties with you... your partner breaking up with you...

...why did this all have to happen...?

Is this your fault...? Maybe if you had just sent that picture... no, no don't even think about it. That person probably would have done this to you anyways...

...oh...

Oh, you... you have a notification. Since what happened last night, you haven't checked any of your notifications, but... this one... it's from someone you trust...

Idia was absolutely enraged. He could barely even believe what just happened. You have nothing. He is the only person in the world offering you comfort and support, and you just... YOU JUST WRITE HIM OFF LIKE HE'S NOTHING?!

[Gloomurai_] : hey, is everything OK w/ you?

[Gloomurai_] : i just saw you havent rlly been online since what happened

[Gloomurai_] : not that i blame you obv

[n3k0-ebi] : hi gloomy

[n3k0-ebi] : things haven't been great... lol.

[Gloomurai_] : i heard youre single again btw

[Gloomurai_] : that must suck

[Gloomurai_] : i hope this doesnt sound too forward but uh

[Gloomurai_] : is there anything i could do to help?

[n3k0-ebi] : definitely not, but thx for offering

[n3k0-ebi] : it's enough to just know you're there :)

...but, all of a sudden, the anger leaves him. Everything leaves him. All rational thought is gone from his head... and he smiles.

"Ortho... tell the vice leader he'll be in charge of Ignihyde for a while."

"What-? Big brother, why would you-"

"I need to go home for a bit." Idia closes the chat log, and stands up from his chair. "I won't be gone long. I just need to... make a copy of a file on my pc back home and bring it back here. That's all."

Ortho didn't entirely believe his brother...

...it's raining.

It's dark, stormy, the dead of night...

And most importantly, you're alone.

You used to like being alone. Not so much now, now you just feel... unsafe.

What with all the death threats, general threats, your home address and real face now being known... you don't feel safe in your own home anymore.

It's not a pleasant feeling, yet it is one you've felt before. One you never hoped to feel again. It's such a terrible feeling, knowing you might not be safe, in the place that you very well should be...

...

There's a knock at the door.

You are NOT going to answer it.

There are a lot of things that can happen in the exact moment of danger. Time feels like it slows down, and you have to make a choice... fight or flight, your natural instincts.

The door is kicked open and you drop down to at least somewhat hide yourself thanks to your couch. Maybe that pepper spray you lost last month is under there??? Hopefully...

And then... you hear a voice. A strangely familiar, sickly sweet voice.

"Ohh (Y/N)~" It calls out... "Where are youuuu~???"

That voice... you know that voice... you've been in a voice call with that voice before... that voice...

It's Gloomy... someone you thought was your friend...

"(Y/N), I know you're in here. Just show me where you are already. I-I won't hurt you~!!"

You frantically run your hand along the floor under your couch, looking for your pepper spray. You can't help but hope it's under there...

You hit something that rolls out from under your couch... it's exactly what you're looking for, but it also shows him exactly where you are.

A blue glow comes closer as the long, flaming hair drapes over your couch, the tips barely touching you as you lay on the ground. Then you see his face... piercing yellow eyes, and a terrifying, sickening smile full of sharp teeth...

"There you are!"

You scramble away from him in a panic, taking short glances at where the small canister rolled...

"There's no need to look so scared, (Y/N)." He smiles. "It's me, Gloomurai, Gloomy, Idia, your boyfriend."

"W...w-what... the hell... are you talking about...?"

"Are you fucking stupid? I think it's really clear what I said, isn't it?" He scowls at you... not just any scowl, it looks like he completely despised you... before quickly returning to a sickly sweet, and clearly fake smile. "I'm your boyfriend. You're my girlfriend. We've been dating for a long time, and I'm going to be taking you home with me now! I love you so much!"

"W-we've talked a few times... a-and I guess we're friends, but... but we aren't dating!!" You yell, clenching your fists tightly. You're absolutely terrified, but you don't want to just agree with him. There's no way in hell you're going to validate this...

"Yes we are. Do you not remember? Is your single braincell working overtime trying to understand what you already know? Aww, cute kitty..." The intruder suddenly pulls something out from his pocket.

He thrusts the object at you as you avoid it by crawling on your hands and knees as fast as you can towards your small canister. You stand up in the best defensive position you can, being sure to hide your spray from this creep.

"Ugh. Why are you so stubborn?? It won't hurt as much if you just stay still!!" He rushes towards you with the object, it's clear to you now that it is a syringe...

You spray him directly in the eyes as he screeches out in pain.

You run for your front door, hoping you can get away while he writhes in pain... but you feel something prick into your neck... and being flushed into your veins...

"YOU BITCH. WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR?! WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?! I HATE YOU SO FUCKING MUCH!!" He screams at you as you collapse. What is this... what in the world would work this fast...?

"...wh..." You try to ask what this is, before you feel a sudden metallic taste in your mouth, and blood begins to pour out...

"You don't need to know what it is. It's better if you don't know." The intruder shushes you. "I love you so much. I love you. We'll be happy together... me and a better version of you... I'll recreate you perfectly."

...he kisses you on the lips. He wipes your blood off of his face as he pulls away... when you realize he's wearing gloves.

"It won't be long before you hemorrhage all your blood... this stuff works really fast~" He smiles. "At least you'll look pretty as you die."

Idia's life entirely went back to normal after that. In fact, it's been a year since what he did.

Your body was found, but evidence to his crime was not.

Idia is a model student at NRC, despite almost never attending class in person. His grades are phenomenal, he hands in all his assignments in time, and he's going to get a good job when he graduates...

And... in his spare time... he's programming.

Idia is programming an artificial intelligence, based on a certain someone he used to know.

His lovely girlfriend.

"Don't worry... we'll be seeing each other again soon... I'm sure of it. I'll do everything I can to make it true... I love you, (Y/N)."

[the-scarlet-witch-22]

Love and Liabilities: Chapter Four (Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader)

Summary: As you prepare for the impending trial and attempt to find ways to relieve your stress, the biggest stressor in your life has a funny way of showing up when you least expect it.

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Lawyer!Agatha is back after a little hiatus! This is a bit of a shorter chapter to get me back into writing after a few months. I’m hoping to be updating a bit more regularly but I’m (sadly) growing even more busy & stressed, so I promise to do the best I can! As always I hope you enjoy, and thank you so much for reading! Please feel free to let me know what you think. My asks/dm’s are always open!

Tag List: @chiar4anna @harknessshi @neverfindmegone @aggieslittleslut @ris-ris-mind @tr333sus @sabstance-blog

Present Day

The whooshing of the wind in your ears combined with the cool air filling your lungs fueled you to increase your pacing as you ran through the deserted park. It had been nearly a week since you reunited with Agatha, and your brain had been hellbent on torturing you ever since. Nothing could take your mind off the infuriating attorney, not even work. You had spent the past few days pouring over every word in the various documents Agatha presented during the pretrial conference, hoping to find something, anything really, to solidify your case.

It was times like this when you missed working in corporate law. Although you had only been a junior attorney at Stark & Strange, you had unlimited access to paralegals and attorneys at your disposal. Unfortunately, working for the government meant not only taking a significant pay cut, but also limiting your outsourcing. You didn’t regret your decision to leave the firm, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss the perks.

Since burying yourself in piles of work proved useless, your only real escape from Agatha came from running. The familiar burning sensation began to fill your lungs as your body begged for a break, but you forced yourself to continue. Your legs felt heavier than when you first started, and as you rounded the corner of the trail you had to work twice as hard to not slow down. Even though you were growing tired, the rush of endorphins was a welcome change from the haunting memory of searing blue eyes burning holes into your own.

Agatha would be far too pleased to learn how much of your time and energy was being wasted trying to forget her. However, being the soul sucking succubus she was, you wouldn’t be surprised if she was already aware of the pain she was causing. A swell of anger suddenly overtook you, a feeling you had long grown familiar with when thinking of her, and you used it to finish the final stretch of your run. The thudding of your feet on the pavement along with the loud thumping of your heartbeat acting as a painful reminder of the woman you so desperately wanted to rid yourself of.

Swirls of scarlet, orange, and yellow painted the Manhattan skyline as the sun gradually rose over the city, and the quiet beeping of your phone from your back pocket signaled the end of your run. Nearing the end of the trail, you slowed your pace down to a steady walk, allowing yourself to do some breathing exercises in the process whilst checking your email. It was early enough in the morning that there wasn’t much for you to go through, but you knew it was bound to be yet another busy day.

You had timed your run to give yourself just enough time to head back to your apartment to get ready for the day and get to the office before the rest of your colleagues. The stress of the looming trial was becoming overwhelming, and you had to be prepared for whatever chaos Agatha would inevitably throw at you. Unfortunately that meant you were working nearly double the amount of hours than normal.

Luckily you were able to take a quick shower, find clean clothes in the back of your closet, and managed to get to work before anyone else had arrived. You would hopefully have an hour or two to yourself before you were eventually interrupted, and you intended to use every last possible second you could. As you strolled the corridor, you were tempted to stop to make yourself a coffee, but decided to get settled before adding caffeine to this situation.

Absentmindedly dropping your bag to the floor after you entered your office, you refocused your attention on reading a memo that one of your colleagues had left for you. Making mental notes of what needed to be addressed, you turned to open the blinds when you stopped dead in your tracks at what was in front of you.

Agatha Harkness sat in an armchair in the corner of your office, an amused expression painting her face. You nearly fell over at the sight of her, how did she get in here? The door was locked when you had arrived, wasn’t it?

Agatha, unaware of your current inner ramblings, took a sip of her coffee before repositioning herself, recrossing her legs as she gave you a disappointed look. “Your lack of situational awareness is truly astonishing. I could have been a murderer.”

Adrenaline continued to course through your body as your heart thumped loudly in your chest. Taking a deep breath, you ignored her sarcastic remarks as you leaned against your desk, attempting to calm down.

“What-what the hell are you doing in here?” You spluttered out, unsuccessfully trying to regain your composure.

The attorney frowned, as if that was an absurd question. “This is your office, is it not? I wasn’t sure at first, but the withering plants were a bit of a giveaway.”

Typical Agatha. They weren’t dying, were they? You made a mental note to ask your paralegal to water them a bit more.

Ignoring the jab, you took another deep breath, your body still on edge. “Do I even want to know how you got in here?”

Taking a moment to think over your words, she shook her head. “No. Now drink your coffee before the ice melts.”

It was then that you noticed the untouched cup of iced coffee on the edge of your desk. Narrowing your eyes at it, you gave her a suspicious glance. “How do I know you didn’t poison it?”

Agatha rolled her eyes, as if that was the most ridiculous thing to ask her and she didn’t just break into your office. “Honestly, dear. You’re far too paranoid this early in the morning. Drink. We both know how irritable you are without caffeine.”

When you refrained from grabbing the cup, Agatha huffed, her stormy blue eyes swirling in annoyance as she rose from her seat. Taking a step towards you until your legs were nearly touching, she snatched the cup, the silence in the room disrupted by the clanking sound of the ice swirling in the cup. Hovering over you, she used her free hand to grab yours, the soft feel of her touch briefly taking you back to a time where it would have been more welcomed.

Your breath hitched as the rich, musky scent of her expensive perfume washed over you, and you fought the temptation to look into her eyes. How many times had you found yourself in this exact same position with her, you mused lightly as your brain attempted to regain its ability to function. Agatha’s fingers intertwined with yours, as she leaned in even closer, her lips grazing your jawline and you closed your eyes, fighting against the urge to lean into her touch.

Clearing your throat, you shook your head. “No. This can’t happen again.”

Agatha pulled back, her eyebrows slightly raised. “What can’t happen again?”

Giving her a pointed look, you tried to ignore the feel of her fingers still interwoven with your own. “I don’t think we need to relive that mistake, do we?”

“Oh I don’t know about that,” Agatha replied, swishing the cup of iced coffee as she lifted it up. “I seem to recall you rather enjoying yourself during that mistake, or was that someone else who pulled me into a closet and jumped me?”

“I did not jump you! You’re the one who came onto me,” you hissed as your irritation grew exponentially.

“Easy, tiger,” Agatha teased, raising the cup until the straw was nearly touching your lips. “I see the caffeine withdrawal is already kicking in.”

“Agatha…” you trailed off, ignoring your brain protesting that this would hurt even more than your last encounter.

Dropping your hand, Agatha gently cupped your jaw, tilting your head upwards until you were forced to meet her eyes.

“Sip,” Agatha murmured, raising the cup once more to your lips.

Her words were soft, but you both knew it wasn’t a request as much as a command. A part of you knew this was a mistake, that you couldn’t give into her yet again after being strong for so long. But then you looked into her eyes and found yourself getting lost in the fiery intensity she always seemed to carry. Logic and reason held no weight against the pleasure that was being at the mercy of Agatha Harkness.

Wrapping your lips around the straw, you lightly sucked, savoring the creamy, cold taste of the iced coffee on your tongue. Agatha’s eyes darkened at the sight; using one hand to brush your hair behind your shoulders while the other remained glued to your jaw, fingers brushing lightly against your skin.

“Good girl,” Agatha quietly praised, running her fingers through your hair, tugging lightly at the loose strands.

As you released the straw from your mouth, Agatha set the cup down, tightening her grip on your hair before capturing your lips in a kiss. Her lips were warm and gentle against your own, but it wasn’t long before she began nipping on your lower lip, biting down harder when you let out a whine. Moving forward, she pressed herself fully against you, while you instinctively wrapped your arms around her waist. Her tongue expertly sought out your own, and it felt like she was trying to get every drop of coffee from your mouth.

Panting, you were the first to break the kiss, tilting your head as Agatha proceeded to pepper persistent kisses down your jawline, each leaving you more breathless than the last.

“Agatha…” you whimpered, the last bit of self control slipping away even as you tried to hold onto it. “We can’t do this again.”

The attorney chuckled softly against your skin, tickling you ever so slightly in the process. She took a moment to look up at you then, with her ever blue eyes hazy with want and perfectly swollen red lips, and you remembered a moment in time where this had been easier. It was almost too easy to forget the pain of the past when she looked at you in that special way; as if she saved those intimate, sweet glances just for you. You used to believe you were able to bring out a different side of her than the rest of the world saw; that you understood who she was at her core.

Having her here now made the whole situation even worse than you previously remembered. It complicated things, and if there was one thing you hated more than anything, it was unnecessary complications. You found it difficult to remember the seemingly obvious reasons why you left her all those years ago when she was standing within your reach; the light that once dimmed in her eyes was once again ablaze. Gone were the demons of the past, in its place was the woman you had once fallen in love with.

Unfortunately, you were snapped out of your thoughts as you heard chatter from the hallway; your colleagues had arrived for the day. Agatha’s head tilted at the sound, and the moment was broken as she took a step back.

Clearing her throat, she folded her arms across her chest. “I was hoping you had given more thought to dropping the case, that’s why I dropped by.”

Annoyance took over any feelings of longing that had been threatening to emerge, and you frowned. “You do realize that this could be perceived as intimidation, right? That on top of trespassing could mean you potentially lose any upper hand in this trial that you believe you possess.”

Agatha fully cackled, which only served to enrage you further. She picked up a few files that she must have previously set on the desk. “You always were so full of pride and ambition, dear. I’m not surprised to see it still has a hand in clouding your judgment. It’s a pity. I always thought you had a lot of potential.”

Flabbergasted, you shook your head. You should have known better. Only Agatha would be capable of attempting to manipulate you over your shared past to better serve her motive. Shoving past her, you finally opened the blinds to your office, the once sunny morning replaced with dark gray skies as rain furiously poured down. As you turned around to tell Agatha to get out, you were unsurprised to find she was already gone. Typical.

Settling down at your desk, you opened your laptop and started going through your checklist for the day when you noticed something on the edge of your desk; a file folder. You quickly realized Agatha must have left it behind by accident, which was strange; it wasn’t like her to do something like that. It was unclear what drove you to opening the file, but looking back you’d blame it on your own morbid curiosity. Inside there were over a dozen pages of what appeared to be hospital records for two people, one being Wanda Maximoff.

As you settled in to read, your eyes drifted to the neglected iced coffee. A part of you wanted to throw it away, but the caffeine driven side of your brain led you to grab it. After all, it would be a shame to let it go to waste.

Flipping the page over as you sipped, you paused as you actually tasted the coffee for the first time without distraction.

This is your exact coffee order. Iced coffee, extra ice, one pump of vanilla and a splash of oatmilk. After all of these years she still remembered, remembered it perfectly.

You weren’t sure why you hated that as much as you did, but it burns in your mind as you keep reading and drinking, trying to wash her taste out of your mouth.

[tonberry-yoda]

Take a Break - Asra

notes - IM BACK FROM THE DEAD AND WITH A FIC?!?!?! Hi guys! <3 I've been in a bit of a block feeling like my writing is meh, but I wanted to pump this out to get out of said block. I'm finally on a short break for school, but I'll be working then, but now, I had time to write and wanted to give you all something, even if it's short and sweet. I also wanted to thank you all for the support even as I've been on my hiatus. I nearly have 200 followers, and I just can't thank everyone enough for being so loving! Sorry this note was kinda long, but I really want you all to know how much I love you <3 word count - 941

“Hi Asra.” You smile, giving the boy goo-goo eyes as he walks into the shop that the two of you owned.

“Hello, y/n.” he says, not once looking at you. He was too busy looking down at a list of some sort to notice you staring at him while you stood behind the counter.

“Busy?” you asked.

“Mhm.” was all he let out before walking up to his office.

You sighed and ran your fingers through your hair. Another busy day that clouded both you and Asra. You were used to it by now, but a break sounded nice every once in a while. So instead of that break, you played with a bottle full of tea leaves that you were proud to say you made yourself. You didn't hate your job, if anything, you loved it more than any job you’ve had before. The problem was Asra. He looked constantly stressed and beyond tired. You hated that he was starting to look like he was the one who hated his job. He had so much passion years ago, but now he just looked swamped.

“Good evening, y/n!” you heard a familiar voice say as the bell rang above the door. Your ears perked up and a smile spread across your face as you saw one of your regular customers walk in.

“Evening, Mr. Bennet! How are you?” You set down the little bottle and walked over to the man, shaking his hand.

“Fine, fine,” he said. “Busy as always. You?” He hung his coat on a rack next to the door and started browsing.

“I'm all right,” you admitted. “Bout to close up shop, so that’s nice.”

“I won't be too long.” He looked at some of the tea you had made, carefully reading the instructions. “Where’s Asra, if you don't mind me asking?”

“Oh, he's upstairs. Probably working as always.” You rested your cheek on your hand.

“Go figure. Poor man needs to catch a break.”

“Tell me about it.” you chuckled.

“Well, when you see him again,” Mr. Bennet said, walking to the counter with a box of tea leaves. “Tell him that he has to get that break, for me, of course.”

You laughed and took the money from the man, locking the door behind him as he left.

“Was that Mr. Bennet?” you heard Asra ask, making you nearly jump out of your skin.

“Yeah,” you said nonchalantly as you began to clean up for the night. “He just got some tea, that’s all.”

“Dammit,” Asra groaned, leaning against the wall. “I had to ask him something.”

“You know he’ll be back. He’s in here all the time. Plus, he told me to tell you to take a damn break.”

Asra ran his fingers through his white hair while his other hand clutched some tarot cards. “You know I can't do that.” he sighed.

“Whatever you say.” You finished sweeping up the rest of the shop and walked past Asra.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“To my room. To take a break.” So, you did. You walked straight to your room and laid on your bed. It was soft, as always, and all of your stuffed animals gave you soft smiles.

Through your window, you could see the moon peeking over some mountains behind the town and a smile spread across your face. You quickly jumped out of bed to open your window to bring in some cool night air. It smelled fresh. You saw crows fly overhead and could see the lights from the rest of the village turning on as the night market began overflowing with people. You’ve been needing this relaxation for weeks, and finally, it was a weekend where you had time for it.

At your door, you heard Asra clear his throat. When you turned around, he had Faust wrapped around his bicep and the tarot cards were still in his hand.

“Need something?” you asked.

“Not really.” he said quietly.

“You look tired.” Your voice was softer than his.

Asra chuckled. “I am tired.”

“Then take a break. Please.”

Faust slid her way off of Asra’s arm and slid over to you. You picked her up and she wrapped herself around your wrist. “Break!” she said to Asra.

“There’s so much to do before the weekend is over though.” Asra sighed and leaned against the frame of your door.

“Like what?” you asked.

He thought for a minute. You assumed that he was going to try to make some excuse to keep himself busy. There were probably things he had to do over the weekend, but you also knew that Asra was the kind of guy who always felt the need to be productive.

You walked over to him and put your hand on his shoulder. “Asra, I'm serious, you need a break. Those eyebags don't look good on you.” You ran your thumb underneath his eye over the dark spots there.

He softened to your touch, leaning his cheek on your warm hand. “What if everything falls apart because of me?” he asked.

“I think you’re just making excuses.” you giggled.

He took your hand in his own and smiled softly at you. Faust, you noticed, had disappeared, but you didn't mind, especially when you just saw her curling up in a little cage you had made for her.

“Do you want some hot cocoa?” you asked Asra as he took a seat on your bed.

“That would be wonderful, y/n, thank you.”

You pressed a kiss to his forehead and pushed him so that he was laying down. “I'll be right back.” You winked.

~~~~~

the arcana masterlist | pinned post | ko-fi

2023 @tonberry-yoda – do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated

~~~~~

[fuckyeahaudiodrama]

🪸 JULY LISTENS 🪸

(ft. some lovely coral for those of us caught up on The Magnus Protocol😌)

this month, i’ve been working through some of the stuff that’s been languishing on my listen list for approximately a million years as well as revisiting some old favorites. here’s what i enjoyed most in my earholes:

G.O.B.L.I.N.S — (pilot, crowdfunding now!) for fans of Stellar Firma, the Meredith brothers have reunited with some other familiar voices to spin a story about an overly ambitious human office worker who gets dragged through the veil into the fae realm by a pair of chaotic goblins. the show is scripted but it’s marked by the same sense of humor that has characterized the Meredith’s other improvised works. 8 episodes projected if it funds.

Larkspur Underground — (11 eps, complete?) a fictional exposé about the sole survivor of a serial killer’s disturbing abduction and grooming. i was giddy to discover this one as an ardent fan of Showtime’s Dexter. it’s gory and glorious, and if you’re keen you might spot some clues; if not, the final episode is going to shock you. creator wants to make more, but it’s been a few years so who knows.

I Found A Wormhole — (5 eps, complete) a short yet existentially harrowing series. exactly what it says on the tin. mind the content warnings on the final episode but by the time you get there you’ll definitely know what’s coming tbh.

The Grotto — (10 eps, ongoing) a pull-no-punches exploration of messy grief with a supernatural twist. season two is here! this series has an absolutely killer soundtrack and immersive sound design. it has such a unique vibe. you’ll definitely like it if you like WOE.BEGONE.

Dear Bastard! — (16 eps, complete?) an epistolary comedy about a bunch of squabbling neighbors. i like to use this show as a palate cleanser when i’ve been listening to a lot of gruesome horror, because it’s just so light and fun.

Deviant — (10 eps, complete) a space pirate dramedy! i stumbled across this purely by accident and did a little binge. i love an absolute mess of a protagonist, so this was right up my alley. it’s a little abrasive at times but overall i enjoyed the narrative and it wrapped up nicely.

Murphy — (6 eps, s2 in production) a folkloric monster-of-the-week mystery with very charming characters. the first season is complete and although it is short, the episodes are long and make great use of their runtime. pleased to see their recent crowdfunder has been successful so there will be more!

Ghost Wax — (45+ eps, hiatus) a horror anthology facilitated by a “reclaimer” who can extract the final statements of the dead. this is similar to How i Died but the lore feels much more fantastically intricate. i don’t want to spoil too much of the meta plot but there’s a LOT going on, and i’m looking forward to s2.

Fulmar’s Folly — (12 eps, ongoing?) people on reddit love this series so i decided to give it a spin. fans of zombie survival like We’re Alive are most likely to eat this up. it can be a little overwrought at times, but the constant tension feels genuine in context. episodes are quite long but the length feels satisfying and necessary.

Nowhere, On Air — (46 eps, ongoing) another spooky small town radio show about a girl in a world she doesn’t belong to. this is one of my favorite genres of AD. fans of WTNV, King Falls AM, Tiny Terrors, and other shows of that ilk will probably enjoy this. it leans a little more surreal and introspective than comedic. IMHO, the host also just has a lovely voice. the meta plot is currently really hitting its stride.

All In My Head — (19 eps, ???) night terrors turn out to be something much more sinister. so intriguing, i was devastated to realize it may have been abandoned. i’m not going to completely give up hope for a final season though!

Zoinks! — (11 eps, complete?) a darkly comedic homage to scooby doo and other childrens detective fiction. i loved the way the narrative approached the subject of child neglect, while still maintaining a thread of silliness that saved it from complete bleakness. s2 has been mentioned but it’s projected release date has come and gone without a word, so it may or may not happen.

Trice Forgotten — (10 eps, ???) an aspiring cartographer gets accidentally mixed up with some pirates. i relistened to this series in honor of its anniversary and was just blown away by the sound design all over again. the setting is made so rich and alive by the effort put in by the production staff! and the character dynamics are so intricate and gorgeous. i am especially a fan of the tension between alestes and gammon. beautiful first season with SO much left to explore, i really hope to see this come back for a s2 someday.

[vaughnwrites]

Stressed Out

adaman x reader

(after a hell of a long hiatus, i am back from the dead! kinda. so, i'm not going to promise anything anymore as i apparently never know when inspiration is going to strike, and i never know where the hyperfixation will take me. i was trying to get this out for nine months now, but this was... not coming until tonight. sorry y'all for the wait, but here it is after all this time! also, this is my longest one to date. the others barely scratched 1000 words, some managing 1700, but this one... is a beast. it's near 3000 words. the inspiration to write struck me hard. hope you guys enjoy! )

reader is gender-neutral. they/them pronouns will be used if any pronouns at all.

finally, i bring to you this prompt

—

Everything was overwhelming.

The past few weeks, the stress had been mounting as you fought tooth and nail to be seen as an asset rather than a nuisance. You wore yourself down to the bone, putting your heart and soul trying to please everyone so the suspicion would die down only for it to mount more and more with people with each passing day. You had already been cast out once, and earned your way back into the Galaxy team. So why were people still suspicious? How much would you have to do to gain everyone’s trust? Why did you constantly have to fight for everyone’s approval?

Why did the other clan leaders believe in you more than your own clan did?

All you craved was somewhere to call home again. Somewhere you could rest your head at night and simply sleep, rather than spending all your time being anxious about one wrong perceived move and you’d be kicked out of the village again. The stress felt like it was piling up on your already tense shoulders, and you felt so overwhelmed. 

Everything was overwhelming.

Instead of slamming your fists into the first and cursing everyone to please, for the love of all that is holy, give me some credit — you got to work. Like always.

You’d overheard about a Zorua outbreak in the Alabaster Icelands, which was exactly what you needed. A young man in the village had asked to see the completed entry for Zorua, so this would be the perfect opportunity to finally cross this Pokemon off your to-do list. So, off you set toward the Pearl Clan settlement so you could check in in case something goes wrong. Even though you were far more trusting of Pokemon than others around you, you still didn’t underestimate the ones that were absolutely ready to kill you in a moment’s notice. Alpha Pokemon were far more angry than any other Pokemon you’d come across in your time.

Arriving in the Pearl settlement, the snow softly crunching under your boots, you hear not one, but two familiar voices to the side. Oh, Adaman is here as well. You vaguely remember them talking about a meeting about… something about traditions, or something? The details were fuzzy. You have been focusing far more on your own tasks and stresses than anything else.

Irida noticed your presence almost immediately and smiles, waving you over. Adaman joined along when he sees you as well.

“Well, our favourite Galaxy member is here! How are you?”

“I’m good, Irida, thank you.” You offer her a kind smile, keeping all your stresses tucked away neatly into a corner of your mind. Put them in a box, and file it away. Not the healthiest coping mechanism, but one that’ll at least get you through this. “How are you guys doing?”

“We’re just discussing our cultures and possibly having a party to mingle the clans a little easier,” Adaman responded easily, throwing up his three fingers as a hello with his signature grin that never fails to make you smile in return.

“Sounds like fun.”

“It isn’t.”

“Hey!” Irida responded, stomping her foot down with her hands clenched at her sides. “I’m not the one being unreasonable!”

“Yeah yeah,” he waved her off, then turned his attention toward you. “What brings you here?”

“There’s a Zorua outbreak around the Bonechill Wastes area, and I wanted to complete my research on this guy while I still have the chance.” You neglected to tell them someone from Galaxy wanted the information as well.

Adaman raised an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t you have someone to come along with you?”

You opened your mouth to say no before Irida cuts in. “You volunteering? Provided you don’t freeze to death first,” she teased as she jabs him in the ribs playfully, and grinned at his responding yelp and pout. “Jesting aside — you really should have someone to accompany you. An Alpha Glalie tends to roam that area, and no one has dared to come close to it. It seems really powerful. I wouldn’t be comfortable with you going alone.”

Adaman pursed his lips in thought. “Yeah, now that you mention it, I feel like I’ve gotten a glimpse of that Glalie before.” He turned to Irida. “You said no one has come close to it before to know its true strength?”

She shook her head. “We’ve all been too scared to try.”

“I’m sure it won’t be a problem for me,” you interjected, trying to quell their fears. “After everything I’ve faced, it feels like I should be dead at minimum four times over.”

The clan leaders share a glance to each other. It seems they’re talking through just their looks, but what they could possibly be communicating is lost on you. “Adaman, please go with them. I would go if I didn’t have a meeting later on that I cannot miss. But I know you’ll keep them safe.”

“Do I get a say in this?”

“No,” both clan leaders respond at the same time.

You were split on this decision. Deep down, you did really like Adaman — and not just as a friend. Any time spent with him you keep near and dear to your heart. His smile that could light up a room and his long hair that you wanted to card your fingers through. But with the stress you’ve been under and how overwhelmed you’ve been, you’re unsure if you can handle a couple hours of him bitching about how cold it was. One too many comments and you weren’t sure if you could keep it all bottled anymore.

Yet, you also knew having someone with you would be more helpful than not. You didn’t know how strong the Zorua were going to be after all. If they ended up being feisty and ganged up on you, there’s no way you’d leave the battle unscathed. Add an Alpha Glalie to the mix and you’d be dead as dust in less than a heartbeat. You weighed your options (which, technically, they weren’t giving you any) and finally caved in. You weren’t gonna win this fight anyway. “Think you can talk about more than how cold it is?”

“I’m sure I can come up with something. But if it wasn’t so damn cold I wouldn’t complain about it all the time.”

“It’s not even that cold!” Irida scoffed, throwing her hands in the air. “I don’t know how you don’t boil over in the Crimson Mirelands!”

“It’s barely warm enough there for me. It can get really cold by the water, y’know.”

“You’re both impossible,” you cut in to break off the sibling-esque fighting before it can truly start. “Now c’mon, I wanna get going before it gets dark outside.”

And off you and Adaman went, hands in your respective pockets.

You didn’t expect to fall in love with the Zorua like you did.

They were so cute with their flowy hair and expressive eyes. Most were on the attack if they saw you, but crouching down from a good distance away and just watching seemed to be okay. One had strayed away from the group toward you and Adaman, and you both held your breath so it wouldn’t notice you. It failed, as it did notice you, but it didn’t seem to be angry. It walked up to you slowly, and out of habit you gave it your hand to sniff so it wouldn’t see you as a threat.

It rubbed the side of its head against your hand, causing you to smile from ear to ear.

“You really do have a way with Pokemon, don’t you?” Adaman commented, watching everything with a small smile of his own. “They just trust you so implicitly. It’s one of the many things I love about you.”

Your cheeks went up in flames at the compliment, but the cold would cover it up as they were already pretty red. “I think they can just sense that I’m not here to harm them.” You started to pet the Zorua behind its ear, causing its eyes to close. “Sometimes I feel like they’re the only ones that can.”

“What do you mean?”

Oops. You hadn’t meant for this to be a therapy session. “I just… I don’t know. I guess it feels like humans always think they’re about to be betrayed, stabbed in the back. One wrong move and you’re crucified. But Pokemon… They don’t seem to be that way. Some Pokemon can sense a good person when they see one. That seems to be… a lot more rare in humans.”

“I know you’re a good person,” Adaman said softly, putting one hand on your arm.

Before you can even think about a response or the fact he’s showing a more sensitive side of himself to you, a noise catches the three of you off guard.

“Shit,” you breathe, feeling your entire body freeze with fear. “The Alpha.”

You both bounce to your feet as the Alpha comes over the hill behind the Zorua and Adaman. You can see the Glalie is pissed off that people are invading its territory, and wants to get rid of the intruders. An ice beam begins to form, and before you can think, you jump in front of Adaman and the Zorua.

The blast hit you in full force.

Your fingers and feet go completely numb almost immediately, though it almost feels like you’re not even cold anymore. You almost feel warm, actually, and you know that’s an incredibly bad sign. The sky is a beautiful haze of orange and purple as the sun is setting behind the clouds, and for a moment you just take in the colours swirling in your vision. It feels like everything has a layer of clouds over it, and your mind feels stuffed full of cotton. Oh, this is probably a very bad sign.

You can hear a call of your name, as warbled and muffled as you heard it, but can’t really respond to it. Adaman lifted your torso and pressed your back against his chest, his arms wrapped around you with his haori encasing you against him. The Zorua was curled in your lap, and you just felt… warm. You try to say thank you, but your lips feel tingly. Funny. You know you’re slurring even if you can’t hear much yourself. You try your hardest to communicate one word to Adaman.

“Camp.”

With that, though, you go unconscious.

—

You have no idea how much time has passed, but the next thing you know, you’re nice and warm in a tent. Blankets are stacked on top of you, and the fire in the furnace is crackling softly. You’re cozy and warm, but something feels… different. You sit up a bit, and promptly look down.

Oh. You’re definitely not wearing the clothes that you were wearing when you were out hunting for Zorua. You were wrapped up in a yukata that you didn’t recognise, but definitely knew the pearl clan symbol and colours. You wrapped it closer to yourself, then wrapped the blankets around you tightly for warmth. The clothes you had been wearing were hanging over a rack by the stove, seemingly drying off after the long day they’d been through.

You didn’t really know what to do. You’re not even sure what you managed to accomplish for research, or what you’re wearing, or what time it is, or really… anything. You don’t know anything that’s happened since you were out with Adaman. Now, it seems you’re alone in this little area. 

The tears fall before you even really mean them to.

When the first teardrop hit your hand, you realised what’s going on. The stress of everything was finally boiling over now that you feel comfortable and safe. You’re confused, but you’re comfortable and safe which is all you’ve wanted to feel for a while.

You allowed yourself to cry.

Trying not to be loud, you cry silently to yourself while wrapped up in blankets and the yukata, pulling the items tightly against you so you feel swaddled. You rock back and forth and let yourself have your small breakdown.

Until Adaman popped open the tent flaps to check on you, apparently.

Almost immediately your hands fly to your face to cover your tear-tracked cheeks and red eyes, burying your face into the softness of the blanket. You don’t say anything, and neither does he. But all it takes is him walking up and gently touching the top of your hair before you break completely.

The stress of everything came boiling over the edge, the fear of almost dying, the unknown of whether the research you obtained was enough to complete the entry on Zorua, whether you would have a home to go back to in Galaxy. Everything boiled up and you pressed the top of your head into Adaman’s stomach to cry.

He rubbed your back and shoulders gently as you sobbed, gently shushing you and reassuring you that you were safe, you were okay, everyone was okay. He was the much-needed rock in your mind to cling to so your head stayed above the water of emotions. Everything was going to be fine.

Everything was going to be fine.

Eventually your tears slowed and your breathing evened out, pulling away from Adaman to give him room and let him back up if he wanted. (You couldn’t help but notice he didn’t.) “I’m sorry. I didn’t… mean to break down.”

“You’ve been through a lot today, it’s understandable why you would.” Adaman sat down on the bed next to you and handed you a towel to wipe your face. “You’re in a spare tent right now, one they have set out for visitors or harmed individuals found in the wild. Do you remember what happened?”

You nodded, refusing to speak any words.

“You really scared me, y’know. When I saw that ice blast hit you, I… I saw you skid backward in the snow, and your lips were already blue. That was one of the scariest moments of my life, but I’m glad I went with you to keep you safe. Makes me want to go everywhere with you to always make sure you’re safe.”

An eyebrow raised as you look at him. “Wouldn’t that be a waste of your time?”

“Saving you wasn’t a waste of time. And I’d do it all over again, and again, just to keep you safe.”

You’re stunned speechless. You don’t know how to respond with words, so you do the next best appropriate thing — hug him. It starts as a side hug that quickly develops into a full hug, and by the way you’re both gripping each other… it seems neither one of you wants to let go.

“Adaman…” you whispered, holding him tightly. “Thank you. I couldn’t ask for a better —” you pause. You can’t say friend. He’s more than a friend at this point, in your heart, but that’s not something you can say. “— for a better person in my life. You’ve been so helpful to me, and I just… I’m so thankful for you.”

You can feel him smile against your shoulder, which makes you smile. “And I, you.”

He pulled back from the hug slowly, as if he was fighting himself. But he let go and instead stood up, grabbing the bowl he’d at some point set on the counter next to you. “I brought this in to try and wake you up to get something in your stomach, when… well, y’know.” Adaman rubbed the back of his neck. “You should get some warm food in your system though. It’ll help out.”

You grabbed the bowl of what appears to be some sort of soup, and you’re glad to have something else besides potato mochi to eat tonight. “Thank you.”

As you began to eat your soup, Adaman began to explain everything. “So that Zorua you saved came back with us. It’s sleeping with all your Pokeballs in Irida’s tent so she could keep an eye on them, and so they didn’t try to warm you too fast.” Ah, that explained the lack of Pokeballs with your clothes. “That Zorua seems pretty attached. I think you found yourself a new buddy.”

Both of you talk about the Zorua, about the research of all types of Pokemon and how it’s all going, talk about how cold it is and how much warmer the Crimson Mirelands is, how the clan meeting seems to be coming along well even through the bickering Irida and him do. Eventually, you finish your soup and set the bowl onto the chest next to you. Adaman clears his throat and begins to stand. 

“It’s about time for sleep, so I guess I’ll —”

“Please stay with me.”

Adaman’s eyebrows shot through the sky as he looked at you. “What?”

“Please, stay with me. I could use another person here so I’m not… I’m not alone.” You bowed your head. “And I don’t want you to go. But if you do, I understand.”

Hands rest on your shoulders and you looked up, meeting his eyes and matching his smile. “I would love nothing more than that. I don’t want to leave your side. Not now, not…” he stopped, but you finished it.

“Not ever?”

He smiled warmly, and it warms your soul. “Not ever.”

“Then stay with me. Tonight, at least. We’ll figure out the rest later.”

“You got it.”

He slid under the blankets with you, and without a second thought, you curled up next to him for warmth. You were warm, but after how cold you were today… warm didn’t seem to be enough. Adaman’s arms wrapped around you protectively, and with your head on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat gently lulled you into a peaceful slumber.

[genericpuff]

Hi! Maybe this is a difficult question with no answer, but as a fan of Rekindled who might want to start their own comic, what do you suggest to avoid burnout? Do you start wiht writting the script right away, you doodle a bit,..? Thanks for reading, I love how you draw big noses, makes me more comfy with mine!

no fr my dark secret is that i've been experiencing burnout with my main original project that I've spent the last decade working on for literally a year now. this isn't the first long hiatus i've taken, the longest one i've ever been on has lasted two years, and it's undoubtedly not the last i'll experience because the lump of salt and fat and tissue that is my brain often overworks itself into exhaustion like a big dummy

rekindled has been my reprieve from the burnout. it has been my vacation from years of working on the same project, meeting the same deadlines, drawing the same characters, over and over and over again since before i was in college.

if there's anything working on rekindled has made clear to me, it's that i'm still capable of drawing comics. the comic-making isn't the problem. it's just that when you work on the same project for years and trap yourself in an uphill battle, eventually your climbing gear is bound to break.

if there's another thing that rekindled has opened my eyes to, it's the insanity that i put myself through prior to rekindled that led to my burnout in the first place.

i get people telling me that they couldn't imagine doing what i do, that even before i had my assistant helping me out, i was still able to put out 30-40 panel updates every week.

but before that, i was putting out 70-90 panel episodes of my original work. every week. full color. full spread action scenes. no assistant. very little financial gain aside from a couple patrons on patreon and one dedicated viewer on twitch, which i was also streaming on 2-3 times a week.

and now that i've been working on rekindled and even finding myself often crunched for time with that, i have zero clue, no idea, a complete lack of comprehension of how i pulled off 70-90 panels a week for months on end. there's a reason it resulted in burnout and i know that now. this comparison is not for the sake of a flex - this comparison is to make it clear that much of what i do isn't the norm and isn't exactly a healthy standard. case in point, i sneezed while sweeping up yesterday morning and it caused a muscle strain in my lower back/hips and i've been working out of my bed since, i'm in a lot of pain and it might mean i don't make any money this week if it's not better by the time i have to do my appointments at my day job on thursday. my need to create my personal passion projects is often at odds with my bad habits of not taking care of myself 。゜゜(´Ｏ`) ゜゜。

when it comes to tackling burnout, your guess is as good as mine. really it just comes down to rest. when burnout - real, true burnout - hits, it's not just "man i'm bored of working on this", it's "i can't even think of looking at this thing let alone working on it", it's basically akin to depression and it's an awful thing that i wouldn't even wish on my worst enemy (even with Rachel, I don't want to psychoanalyze her mental health but it does seem like she's possibly been experiencing burnout with LO for years now and that really sucks for her if that's true). so the solution is just as complicated as the cause, it's not something that you can just rest from for a week and come back from, it takes real long-term healing.

when I found my way out of that 2 year hiatus, it was in spring of 2019 and I decided to just work on a random comic page that wasn't even in the comic I was working on. and then suddenly it was like a switch flicked back into the on position and i didn't even finish what i was working on, i just went back to my original project and i kept working on it until it was finally finished at the end of 2021. as suddenly and randomly as it had set in, it was gone. but i can't just do the same thing this time, it just doesn't work that way.

that said, through all this, i've learned that my need to create is not restricted to any one tangible thing, i'm not doomed or designed to stick with the same words, the same faces, the same ideas until the end of time. while i do try to keep up healthy routines for myself to ensure i'm looking out for my future self and their deadlines and their upload schedules, sometimes the heart wants what the heart wants. and in my case, the heart wanted to take a break from the self-reflective psychological analysis dark fantasy weebo stuff and just draw some pink and blue characters a little less ugly. the self-reflective weebo shit will still be there when i'm done with the pink and blue stuff, and i'll surely have loads of new things to unpack through it once i return.

there are still times when i'm working on rekindled and i'm feeling the creeping hand of my routine destruction digging its claws into my back. the reality is that 30-40 panels is still a lot for someone like myself who's doing this entirely for free, but my definition of normal for a while was so insanely inhumane that even what's still considered a lot by most people's standards feels sane and normal to me after what i put myself through.

i've learned to be more gentle with myself, and to loosen my own expectations of what i'm capable of to ensure i don't do anything like that to myself, by myself, again. i give myself room to create without expectations or the pressure of eyes watching when i can, and i remind myself that even if burnout rears its head again, and again, and again, the will to create is not gone. it's just tired, and resting, and growing, and healing as i am.

anyways that turned into a self-reflective essay post, to answer your question about making stuff ahead of time, i find that's more helpful with just like, planning out a structured story (so you don't write yourself into a corner) but whether or not it helps with burnout kind of depends. because it can just as also easily be the cause of the problem because constantly seeing the stuff you wanna be drawing so far away can be just as much of a morale killer as a motivator. some of the stuff i'm super psyched to write and draw with time gate is years away and that timeline grows longer the more the burnout goes on which makes the struggle feel even more overwhelming and pointless and defeating. so plan ahead, but keep it all within your means if you can. i find what works for me is planning out just general beat-to-beat plot structures (to ensure i at least have a plot skeleton going on so i know where i'm going) then i leave the finer details to when the actual episode i've planned gets closer to fruition and i can get myself in the headspace to write it fully.

also remember that just because you're really excited and motivated to work on your comic doesn't mean you should work yourself into exhaustion - it's a good thing if you're going through the mundane of your daily routine and the whole time you're hyped af to work on your hobby/personal project/etc. because that's what will keep you moving forward, so don't spend all that hype in one place by working and working and working until you're exhausted, because that hype is REALLY hard to get back after you've spent it all.

long post over! hope that helps! best of luck in your projects! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

[rearranged-fanfic]

(Update 6/3)

Sit down a spell, weary traveler. Come and sit by my fire; bask in the warmth of the flame and rest your aching scrolling finger. You'll be sitting a while, for I have a tale to tell:

Okay, so I've had a Toshiba laptop for the better part of ten years. Maybe a little longer. That laptop has survived being struck by lightning, submerged in a bathtub, and literally having a whole bookcase topple down onto it. I thought it was immortal...

I was sadly mistaken.

About six months ago, I noticed that the typing was getting sluggish. I'd patter away at the keyboard and the letters would appear with a bit of lag. That's fine, since I use Dragon to talk-to-text for quite a bit of my writing. I really only use the keyboard for final assembly, editing, and doing quick rewrites. So, it really didn't bother me. Fastforward to April, which we will call The Great Depression. The time discrepancy between typing and having letters appear on screen became a whopping 40 seconds. Yes, I timed it.

But that was okay, because I could still use my Dragon headset.

Until I couldn't.

It would connect, but the words wouldn't appear on screen. I made sure that all of my programs were up-to-date, and that everything was working. The headset connected to my family's computers just fine. So that meant it was something wrong with mine.

Without being sure if it was the hardware or software at fault, I backed everything up to OneDrive and Google Docs.

I factory reset.

Twice. To no avail.

Over the next few days, my laptop stopped registering any keyboard input at all. It got to a point where I wasn't able to turn it on or off.

Taking it to an electronics store to get repaired didn't help, either. No luck. They said that it would be more cost effective to just buckle down and get a new one, since the age of the laptop meant that I would probably be constantly maintaining it.

My poor Toshiba died kicking and screaming, putting up a fight worthy of an epic ballad.

I saved up for a few weeks, got a new laptop, and went through the rigmarole of getting all of my programs back on it. My files are in order. My life is in shambles (but that's normal, LOL).

I DID do some story work without my computer, but... it's bad. Like, I'd die in shame if I posted anything that I thumbed in. So. Many. Spelling. Errors. How people write on their phone is beyond me. That's a talent I simply don't possess.

At this point, I'm thinking of renaming this story "HIATUS" lol. JK. But I'm seriously peeved that this happened after my last big break. Why couldn't the Depression and laptop breakdown coincide nicely? I guess that's too much to ask of the universe *Shakes fist at the sky*.

I'm creating a damn bingo card for every stupid thing that happens to me while I try to write. Because this is getting ridiculous. I broke my fingers, there was a total solar eclipse, I had a major-ish mental breakdown, and my computer bit the big one. With a free space, that's a bingo. Let's hope I don't get a blackout before the end of 2024.

I doubted the fanfiction curse. I really did. But it's apparently real. And this writer's curse has teeth, people. It bites hard.

I have my MerMay two-shot pretty well done (because I was typing it during The Great Depression), but the next chapter for REARRANGED is still rough. Crimson Chapter 3 is halfway done, but who knows how long that'll take.

The bottom line is that I'm alive and still working on the stories. The next update on this blog will be the posting of several chapters for a few different works. Fingers crossed.

Also, I'm very, very slowly answering the comments in my AO3 inbox. Some of them were pretty lengthy, so it might take a bit. Oof.

If there ever comes a time that I drop this fanfiction or am unable to continue for whatever reason, either I or my husband will be posting the entirety of my outline, as well as anything that's been pre-written for you guys to enjoy. That way there are no questions left unanswered or mysteries unsolved.

[dckweed]

Idea 3: Being in a relationship with Rooster but you didnt have much time together recently. So he decides to prepare something for you. A fancy dinner, candles and the night ends up with him giving you a massage where you both get really turned on, so also some sexy times are about to happen as well and a lot of cuddles afterwards 🥰

okay guys im back from my mini hiatus, i love a good ole rooster fic so much and im kinda enjoying the spoiling of reader w fancy things rn (probably bc today is my birthday, happy 24th to me :) ) anyway how are we doing today? are we hydrated? are we nourished with all the major nutrients? (carbs, proteins and fats?)

p.s. this is your sign to go get a one pound bag of jelly beans because you deserve it :)

p.s. again. it was my birthday when i wrote this last saturday (the 2nd)

THE NOT SO LITTLE THING, bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader

You and Bradley had been married for a couple of years now, however, the two of you had had a whirlwind romance in the empty space between his last deployment and his next one, you had dated for a good three months, both completely smitten with each other to the point of co-dependency in some ways, and when Bradley asked the question, a week before he was due to be deployed you didn't even hesitate to say yes.

The wedding was quick, you wore a beautifully simple white sun dress that you were able to pick up cheaply second hand, not having time to pick out a fancier one, you didn't mind (although you were certain your groom to be did), and were glowing with happiness when you met him at the courthouse the day of, your sister behind you with a camera and the ring that he had been saving for you, the one that his mom had left him.

Bradley kept a smaller print out of your official wedding photo in his wallet, he looked at it every day, showed it off to anyone who would listen (especially on that first deployment right after you guys had said 'i do'), you were beautiful, a smile on your face so radiant that he could feel the happiness through it every time he looked at it, on top of his own happiness. It was one of the best days of his life, right after the day that he had met you.

It was your third anniversary, and Bradley sat in the drivers seat of the Bronco looking down at that photo in his wallet, a smile on his face. The pair of you had been so busy lately, he had just gotten home from the Uranium mission, completely worn out, when he wasn't resting he was spending time with Mav, or working on his honey do list that you left him, and when you weren't busy at work (you were a school teacher), you were usually sleeping or cooking.

You guys hadn't had much time for each other lately, and he knew it was bothering you. Bradley, the good husband that he was, was going to fix it for you. He was on his way into the store, a list of ingredients in his hand for what he hoped was a simple enough recipe for shrimp fettucine, and he was going to pick up a bottle of your favorite wine as well.

Bradley was so proud to call you his wife, and couldn't believe it had already been three years together. He wanted to give you all of the things he knew you wanted, even if you never asked for them or complained about wanting them. He had been planning a honeymoon for the two of you since he had left on deployment a few months ago, and had just finished paying for the plane tickets when you had left for work this morning, giving him as long of a goodbye kiss as you possibly could before he sent you on your way with a smack to your ass that made you squeal with the laughter that he loved to hear. He hoped you didn't check the credit card statements any time soon though, you would probably cry.

Your day had been terribly long, you worked at a school for troubled kids, teaching high schoolers who were court mandated to attend schooling, and normally you loved your job, and you loved making an impact on your kids when they finally warmed up to you, but today had felt like a nightmare. One of the new students in your class had started an all out brawl in the middle of one of your fourth period lesson, resulting in them stabbing someone. You spent a majority of the rest of your school day and afternoon in the principals office, apologizing profusely to the victims parents and giving multiple statements to the police. You were shaken sure, but it wasn't your first time experiencing violence like this.

Needles to say, by the time you got home and dragged yourself over the threshold of the front door of the home you and Bradley had recently bought together you were exhausted and stressed, ready to throw yourself face first into bed.

The house was dark when you first walked in, and you hadn't seen his bronco in the driveway either, assuming you were alone you kicked off your shoes and undid the buttons on your blouse, muttering to under your breath the snarky pissed off response that you had wanted to give to your boss when he questioned you why this had happened, (as if it had been your fault) not expecting to find your husband standing behind you with two glasses of wine in his waiting hands.

"Rough day, honey?" He asks, eyeing you in the dim light of the entry way. He could tell from the way that your eyebrows were creased together in the middle of your forehead that something was wrong, that was typically a tell tale sign that you were overly worried or overly stressed about something.

You just look at him, shoulders slumping in relief as you rush to him, burying your face in his muscular chest. You breathe in his cologne and sigh happily as you wrap your arms around his middle, squeezing him as tight as you could. Bradley was a thick man through and through and hugging him properly was usually an issue for you as you were never able to get your arms all the way around him. You didn't mind too much though, it still brought you all the calming comfort you could ever need or want in the world.

"What are you doing home?" You ask after a moment, a small smile on your lips as you realize that your husband is awkwardly trying to hug you back with two wine glasses in his beefy hands. You take one from him, gulping down an appreciative sip before humming contentedly. "What smells so good?" You give the air a sniff, completely blowing off his question, not wanting to get into your nasty work day when he had so obviously done something special for you on your guys' anniversary.

Bradley knows what you're doing, he's not an easily distractible man and he knows that you know that, so he figures you must just not want to talk about it right now. "Well, my love, i figured that the two of us could have a quiet evening in to celebrate our love.." He says, grabbing your free hand and gently leading you through the kitchen and into the dining room.

You gasp when he moves from in front of you, set on the table was a a full meal surrounded by lit candles and your favorite flowers, a few petals scattered around the table. He had even remembered to put on a white table cloth too. It might have been the stress but the sight of it brought a tear to your eyes, and your husband noticed it almost immediately, his gaze never leaving your face. "Oh, Bradley!" You gush, setting your already half empty glass down on the table before your place your hands on his cheeks and bring him in for a kiss, his mustache tickling against your face as he pulls you flush against him with his free hand.

You moan as his tongue slips into your mouth, before whining pathetically when he pulls away from you with a groan.

"Not now baby, there's plenty of time for that later, okay?" He says smiling as you pout at him. It wasn't very often that he turned down a passionate kiss like that from you, so you figured you'd play along with his evening. "Want you nice and nourished tonight, you'll need the energy." He winks at you and you can't help but giggle, a happy smile making its way to his face as he pulls your chair out for you.

"Roo, did you do all of this yourself?" You ask, looking at your plate in awe. It was no secret that your husband was terrible in the kitchen (though he could grill a mean steak when he wanted to), and the fact that he put in the effort to do this for you made it all the more special to you.

His lips quirk at the use of his callsign as he sits across from you, the tips of his ears turning red from slight embarrassment as he tells you the truth; "I tried okay?" He sighs and you start laughing immediately, three years together and you knew just how badly things went in the kitchen for him. The man burnt toast every single time, it was no surprise to you that this wasn't made by his own hands. "I went to the store, i got all of the ingredients..I had a list, Y/N, a list!"

"Oh gosh, you really were prepared!" You chuckle, grinning from ear to ear at him through the candlelight. You can see the amusement on his face as well, a laugh coming from deep within his chest. You felt all of the stress of the day melt away from your mind as you basked in this sweet moment with your husband. "What happened when you got home?"

"The shrimp happened!" He exclaims and you cackle in laughter, the sound bringing him nothing but joy. "I wound up at Red Lobster last minute," He sees your eyes widen at the words, and knows exactly what you're thinking. He grins at you, slowly lifting a basket of rolls for you and handing them to you over the table.

"I would suck your dick so hard under the table right now, but i think im too in love with the cheddar bay biscuits.." You moan as you bite into one, still warm as if it had just freshly come out of the kitchen at your favorite restaurant. In the back of your mind you wondered just how last minute his trip to red lobster actually was.

Bradley rolls his eyes at your comment, but he basked in the glory of knowing that he knew his spouse well enough to know that would be your reaction, especially after it had clearly been such a stressful day for you.

The pair of you eat your food, your moans and giggles were the only sounds heard as he held your hand over the table, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb as he watched you eat. God, he thought, I wonder if this is how mom and dad felt..

After nearly an hour you both finish, and you finish off your third glass of wine, your body feeling warm and fuzzy as you lean towards him over the table. "What's for dessert, pretty boy?" Your voice is suggestive and so is your mouth as you bite your lip in the way that drove him crazy.

"Oh, sweet thing, you are." He says, standing from his seat, voice husky. He knows your thighs clench together from the way you shift in your seat, his words going straight to your pussy. He knew how to get his girl going, always had. "But first," He comes around the table, still holding your hand as he helps you stand up, pulling you flush against him. "But first, i have plans.."

"Oh?" You ask, letting your lips brush against his as he dips his head down towards yours, gasping when the hand that wasn't holding yours squeezes your ass cheek. A low growls rumbles in your husbands chest, a gleam in his brown eyes.

"Go strip and lay face down on the bed." He squeezes your ass again, rougher than before and sends you on your way out of the dining room, listening as you make your way quickly down the hallway with a 'yes sir' that makes his cock stiffen in his jeans.

You strip down quickly, kicking your wide legged slacks to the side, and your camisole drops down next to it. You take your bra off, but leave your panties on, hoping he would partially be able to enjoy the new lace thong and bra set you had bought for tonight as you lay face down in the middle of the bed, as he had requested.

After a few quiet moments you hear his heavy footfalls coming down the hallway and you bite your lip in anticipation, wondering what exactly your husband had in store for you tonight. "Such an obedient wife," You hear him say, the strong scent of lavender reaching your senses as you feel the bed dip. "This for me?" His voice his husky, his lips soft. His mustache tickles the skin of your tailbone as he places a kiss to the bit of your thong that rests against your back. You hum in response as his lips move up to the dip of your spine, trailing slowly up your back as his large thighs find themselves on either side of your body, the rest of him hovering over you. "So beautiful, baby..always so beautiful."

You sigh in bliss as you feel his hands come up to your shoulders, kneading them as he rubs oil into the skin. You hadn't expected this from him, he was usually the type who could hardly ever focus long enough to give you a massage like this, but you could tell that he had put thought into this as well by the oil he was using, and the pressure he was putting on the space between your shoulders, all of the days tension leaving them almost instantly.

"So good baby.." You moan, feeling his weight start to shift down your back, his hands following with it.

"You've been working so hard baby," His voice is still gruff, but it's sincere as his fingers keep working your skin, the strong digits digging in deeper the farther down he goes. "been taking care of me so good since ive been back, of those kids at school.." You feel one of his hands slip down the small of your back, right past the waist band of your panties, and before you know it, one of his large fingers his pushing into your already soaking hole, curling as he does. "..it's time for me to take care of my wife, huh? whatever you need from me tonight baby, it's all yours pretty girl.."

His words go straight to your pussy, your heat clenching down around his finger and he sighs at the feeling, something that only turns you on farther. It had been so long since the two of you had been able to have a night like this, from the deployment he was on, and then straight to the uranium mission..you'd barely seen each other, let alone fucked each other like the mindless savages you two could be together in the bedroom. To say you were depraved by this point would be an understatement, you were down right starving for you husband, and his cock too.

"..roo, please baby.." You honestly don't even know what you're asking for, to keep fucking you with his fingers? to keep massaging you (because it did feel oh so fucking good to have his magical hands do things like that to you)? to fuck you so cockdrunk stupid that you would have to call into work tomorrow morning? fuck, maybe you wanted all of it, maybe you were so fucking needy for the man that had two of his fingers buried up to his knuckle in your cunt that you didn't give two shits what he did to you, as long as he did something.

He seems to know the answers for you because with a grunt he's shifted down your back, his legs on either side of your own now. Before you know it his large hands are spreading your supple ass cheeks apart and his tongue is on your dripping hole in no time, greedily eating you with your lacey panties (if they could honestly even be called panties with how tiny they were) still on.

"Oh god..." You shudder, your head dropping down into the comforter of your perfectly made bed, your hands fisting the crisp linens, wrinkling them all to hell.

"Not god, sweet thing, just me.." His voice is so thick with lust that he could probably talk you into your first orgasm of the night if he wanted to, but judging from the way that you could feel his hard as a rock cock pressing against the back of your legs you knew that he didn't want to waste time on such trivial foreplay, and, you decided that you didn't want to either, not when you could do it later..not when you needed to feel him in you right that very second stuffing you so full you'd feel him for days afterwards.

"..Need you b-ahh shit.." Bradley must have had the exact same thought pattern as you, that or he could read your damn mind, because the thin material of your thong is pushed unceremoniously to the side as his cock slides into your already sopping pussy. Not only is your husband long, but just like the rest of his body, is cock is also incredibly fucking thick and you feel every glorious bit of his beautiful member stretching your gummy walls out as he slides all the way in, a low groan escaping his throat as he does.

One of his hands goes to your shoulder, gripping it for leverage as he moves long and slow in a few thrusts, testing the waters for a moment. "Feels like fucking home, baby.." He whispers, his mustache tickling the skin of your neck as he places a soft, gentle kiss to the back of it, the total opposite to what he does next. You hear the smack before you register the sting, your ass cheek smarting from the force of the blow he had delt it as he starts fucking you harshly, using the abusing hand to go down to your hips and lift them up just the slightest, giving him a whole different depth within you that you swear you didn't know was even possible.

You squeal a high pitched groan, praising your husband as he pumps his cock in and out of you at an almost brutal pace, you feel him hitting that spongey part of you with every beautiful roll of his hips, rearranging your guts in the most delicious of ways.

It's not long before he has you seeing stars, your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your pussy clamps down so tightly that he cums instantly at the feel of it. "Holy fucking shit..pussy s'fuckin' good can't even control m'self..luckiest son of a bitch in the world aren't I?" He babbles, only slightly pussy drunk as he continues to piston into you, pace unwavering as he pushes his cum deep into your soaking cunt as you try to recover from the orgasm he'd just given you within merely a couple of minutes of fucking you.

"m'so good baby," You mewl, legs trembling beneath you. "Please, please, please, please.." You chant, completely unknowing what you're begging him for, but you know you want something. His cock and his hands all over your body have you so warm and tingly that you can't even form coherent thoughts let alone words and you know that he's just fine with doing all the thinking for you right now.

And like the dutiful husband he is, he does just that. His weight shifts, and with a sad whine you realize that his cock is no longer in your, his cum free to fall out of your hole as he shifts your bodies, laying in the middle of your guys' bed as he pulls you on top of him, one hand holding his still stiff cock as the other guides you down onto it, his large hand splayed across your back, just above your ass as you start bouncing on him, hands on his chest to support you.

"Bradley, baby, so fucking deep.." You whine, head thrown back as your tits bounce with every movement. He grunts beneath you, his fingers digging into your back as he starts pistons up into you, meeting your every bounce with one of his own. The sound of skin slapping skin fills the room and the sinfulness of that alone makes your pussy clamp down onto him again, his cock hitting the places that make you feral.

After a while your thighs start to burn from the effort, but it doesn't seem to affect Bradley so much, he continues fucking up into your hot, wet cunt, and uses his hands on your hips (squeezing so hard that you know for certain his fingerprints are going to be left for day on your skin), you look down at him, unable to form any words other than his name, the sound rolling off of your tongue in a chant so high that you worry the neighbors might call the police (lord knows it wouldn't be the first time), you watch his biceps flex with every movement made to lift your body up with such ease its as if you weigh nothing to him, the sinewy muscle supporting you like you were the weight of air.

Your fingers claw into the skin of your chest and your husband groans, words leaving his mouth that you cant quite make out as your ears rings with the force of your second orgasm rolling through you, hitting you like a hurricane hits the land. Your head lolls forward, slack jawed as you cum harder than you think you ever have before. The sight of you must do something to Rooster because within seconds you feel his cum painting your walls once more, and his thrusts slow to a stop.

You collapse onto him, both of your chests heaving as you His hands move from your hips, ghosting along your spine and you damn near purr as they land in your hair, grasping the back of your head to lift you up into a sloppy, heated kiss, tongues and teeth clashing together as he presses you against his still heaving body. His mustache tickles your skin and you pull away from him with a delirious giggle. "I fucking love you, Rooster."

"I fucking love you too, sweet thing.." He chuckles, tucking a strand of hair behind your sweaty ear as he smiles up at you with the same loving look he had given you on your guys' wedding day, the same one that made the feeling of love spread from the top of your head to the bottoms of your toes. "Which is why, as a present for both of us, i booked us that honeymoon trip you always talked about.."

Your body snaps up, brain on full alert now. He looks up at you with a shit eating grin, and you can't keep the shock off of your face. "Virgin Islands?" You ask, he nods once, proud smirk still adorning that handsome fucking face of his. "Bradley oh my god..are you sure we can afford it? We just bought the house.."

His hand cups your cheek, thumb slipping into your mouth to shut you up. "Don't worry your pretty little head baby, we both deserve it, i already got approved for leave from work, and..i might have already told your boss about it as well.." He says, his tone telling you that you shouldn't argue with it, or even worry one bit about it. He wanted you to enjoy yourself. He wanted you to be carefree and happy. "Besides, what better way to celebrate three perfect years together than by taking our hard earned honeymoon?"

You quirk an eyebrow at him as he takes his thumb out of your mouth. "I dont know," You say, grinding down onto his miraculously still hard cock. "I think i could think of something just a little bit better.."

"Oh, you're in for it now babygirl.." He growls, throwing you onto your back as you giggle wildly, knowing damn well you were about to call into work in the morning.

[spectralsleuth]

Candling

(A short preview for the post-movie/apocalypse fix-it fic I'm working on! As a consolation to all the 'Portal Panic' readers, since I'm putting it on hiatus! Love all you guys, I hope you end up enjoying what I come up with. This is WIP, obviously. The working title is 'FLIPSIDE'.)

“Leo, I swear to Gram-Gram, if you do not sit your ass down I will sit it down for you.” Raph threatened, from his seat at Donnie’s medical table. He wasn’t wearing anything but his patchwork canvas pants, red haramaki, and tattered mask. Sitting as he was, tail curled down and off of the industrial strength steel, Raph’s slightly stooped head still almost brushed against the vaulted ceiling, which was studded with rods of sunny yellow chemical lights and inactive bulbs of emergency lighting.

The lab stretched out an impressive distance, as long as a football field and shaped like the inside of a military hangar with its peaked roof, and thickly cabled bridge cranes stretching wall to wall down the length like the ribs of some dying carcass. Electricity hummed everywhere, even within the solid rock walls to either side, which were honeycombed with outgoing connections and wrist-thick cables going to every corner and cranny of the resistance base.

Donnie himself mostly used the front half of the lab, only retreating to the further wide open shop spaces when things needed to be fabricated, or repaired in one whole mass. Right now the back half of the lab was mostly empty- outside of a rack of plant growing projects thriving quietly under the light of a massive UV lamp, and a semi submersible all terrain vehicle that had been made useless by the drying of the oceans four weeks and two battles ago.

Leo held his hands up defensively at Raph’s growling, finally taking a seat on one of the rolling chairs, his feet tapping restlessly from the back heel all the way up to the knee, in an unreadable rhythm. “Yeesh, sorry. I’m just uh.” He scratched under his mask, over one of the double red stripes lining one cheek. “Nervous? I guess?”

“We’re all nervous.” Raph grumbled, shifting to pull a knee up, and brace himself with one heavily taloned hand. “But you pacing and making a mess of Donnie’s lab ain’t gonna help matters any. You’d think one a you idiots was the one having an egg.”

Mikey was hovering peaceably over their heads, swimming as gracefully through the air as any fish through water. It wasn’t always possible for him to fly so easily; but the thought of the day ahead, and the appointment they were all meeting for, had Mikey’s thoughts so happy and light that floating was easier than not at the moment. Leo was half tempted to tie a string to his ankle, and keep him from finding and floating his way up through the exhaust pipes and to the apocalypse-torn surface.

“Raph, one more time. Please.” Mikey asked sweetly, upside down and cape dangling enough that Raph was trying to snort it away from his face in annoyance, like a bull with a fly. “Just let me touch it, I know I can get something from it. My little nibling wants to tell me, we don’t need Donnie’s nasty ole camera-”

“Shut it Mikey; and keep your glowing little paws to yourself.” Raph pushed Mikey away with a hand that engulfed his entire head, and sent him bobbing away across the lab, affront written across his upside down face.

Mikey rumbled indignantly, like a small dog with a bone- and as he did, April, Donnie, and Casey entered the lab.

“WHERE’S MY SON?” Casey demanded, stomping in and giving Mikey’s head a shove as well. It was forceful enough to send him gently spinning back towards his brothers, cape dangling and tilting slightly on his axis.

“Ya don’t know it’s gonna be a boy.” Raph protested, as Leo rolled his chair quickly out of Casey’s way. “It could be a girl! Oh. A little girl turtle…” Raph started to look dewy eyed at the thought, and Casey made a retching noise.

“Don’t be gross! A mother always knows.” She said loftily, moving between Raph’s knees to crowd into the space there. There was plenty of room- even with the egg cradled carefully in one hand, balanced between his knees like a precious jewel, Raph could have fit five more Casey’s in the space she occupied.

Casey leaned up on her top toes and Raph obligingly tilted down to meet her, pressing a toothy kiss to her mouth.

“Now let me see him before one of these morons drops him.”

“Scoff. If you’re that worried about someone dropping it you should have let me make the prosthesis like I planned-“

“You’re not putting my baby in a robot, Donnie.” Raph warned easily, as Casey bundled the egg into her arms with feral eagerness. It was about eight inches across, perfectly round, and colored a delicate creamy yellow that was the same shade as the pinstripe lines on Leo’s throat and chin.

Leo was insufferable about it, even if he was too scared to hold the egg.

[cowboyemeritus]

Sleeping Beauty (Aurora/Reader)

Aurora gets a wake up call. (18+)

Read on AO3

i'm still kind of on hiatus but here's a little thing about my pretty pretty princess. just a quick warning because this one's got somnophilia.

reader is gn here but i would kill to be aurora's loser failgirl gf. just putting that out there.

A conveniently placed beam of morning light rouses you from your slumber. With a yawn, you sit up and stretch, cringing at the loud pop your back makes. Long days and nights on the road have left your muscles tight and joints stiff. Everyone on the Ghost Project, yourself included, is thankful for this day of rest, and for the chance to sleep in a real bed.

Surveying the hotel room sends the highlight reel of the previous night’s events whirling through your mind. You recall frenzied kisses and layers of clothing shed in rapid succession as the two of you rode the post-ritual high in each other’s arms. A glance over at the alarm clock on the bedside table tells you it’s a quarter to nine, earlier than you would like to be awake, but better than your usual five-thirty.

You note slow, deep breathing next to you. Aurora is still fast asleep, clad in only a white tank top and lacy pink panties. It’s only natural that you’re awake long before she is; the ghoul practically goes into hibernation as soon as her head hits the pillow. You can’t help but smile at the messiness of her fluffy white hair and the small line of drool dribbling down her chin. The last few weeks have been full of anxiety given her new position in the band, so it’s good to see her finally relax and drop the decorum. Even like this, though, she’s exquisitely beautiful.

Deciding to try and get a little more sleep, you lay back down, draping an arm over Aurora’s waist. Although completely dead to the world, it seems she can sense your presence and lets out a faint, contented hum. The sound of her breathing acts as your lullaby, gradually pulling the blanket of sleep back over your mind. 

You’re just about to slip into unconsciousness when Aurora shifts, rolling from her side to lay on her back. In the process, your hand slips under the hem of her top, the tips of your fingers brushing against the soft skin on her stomach. It’s barely perceptible, but your eyes finally crack open at the noise that works its way out of her throat. You suppose it’s ghoul instinct, being able to rest while still having some sense of one’s surroundings. Resigning yourself to the waking world, you decide to make the most of it. This is her favorite way to be woken up, after all.

Slowly, you drag your hand up her torso. It must tickle, as Aurora flinches slightly. Once you’re sure she’s still asleep, you continue, coming to a stop when one of her breasts is in your grasp. You knead the soft flesh, smiling to yourself as her nipple quickly hardens against your palm. Taking it between two fingers, you give the pink bud a light pinch. The ghoul hums out a soft moan that has you salivating like a dog. You already need more.

Carefully, as not to risk waking her, you shimmy down so that your face is level with her chest. Pulling the flimsy top up, you quickly latch on, dragging the tip of your tongue across her nipple. This time, the ghoul’s lips part, a melodic sigh dissipating into the morning air.

While you suck gently, your arm slinks down to the waistband of Aurora’s panties. They’re your favorite: baby pink lace that just barely contains the swell of her ass. Dipping under the fabric, it doesn’t take long before your fingers are drawing slow, lazy circles around her clit. She gasps out what sounds like your name, the sound stoking the flames of arousal now flickering in your gut. You smile to yourself as you take her nipple between your teeth and tug. Aurora’s hips buck against your hand, the tips of your fingers slipping down to find that she’s already exorbitantly wet. Something in your still foggy, sleep-addled mind screams at you to taste her.

Throwing caution to the wind, you detach from her breast. A small pop! bounces off the walls of the hotel room as the seal between your lips and her soft flesh breaks. Finally you retreat from her side, propping yourself up on your hands and knees to hover above her. Your form practically swallows hers, and you take a moment to study the small ghoul. Even in the dim light, her cheeks are noticeably flushed, her exposed nipple glistening with your saliva. Despite her horns and tail, she looks like an angel laying there under you, completely oblivious to what you’re doing. 

Satan in Hell, you’d eat her if you could.

You snap out of your reverie when Aurora whines with need, squeezing her plush thighs together. She must be having a particularly vivid dream. Deciding to have pity on her, your fingers quickly hook around the waistband of her underwear and you pull, exposing her soaked core. It takes a bit of maneuvering, but you’re eventually laying between her legs, licking your lips at the sight of her arousal.

When you can’t take the suspense any longer, you descend on Aurora’s clit, giving it a gentle suck. She convulses against you and for a moment, you think you’ve woken her. You wait a beat with no further reaction before burying your face between her thighs once again. While you work, her moans and whimpers get closer together, but you can tell by the volume that she is still very much asleep.

It’s the eventual protrusion of your finger into her tight cunt that finally has Aurora gasping awake. Her hands immediately tangle in your hair, the tips of her manicured nails scratching against your scalp. You hum at the pleasant sensation, pulling a full-bodied moan from the ghoul.

“Fuck, baby. Don’t stop,” she groans, grinding her hips into your face. Having had no intention of letting up, you continue lathing your tongue across her clit and fucking the lone digit into her. Soon enough, her pussy starts to flutter around it, and you know she’s almost there. With well-practiced precision, you angle your finger just right, massaging that spot of spongy flesh that has Aurora keening. A few more swipes of your tongue and she’s falling over the edge, thrashing beneath you with a drawn-out cry.

It briefly crosses your mind that your room is sandwiched between Papa’s and Dew and Rain’s. That thought is immediately forgotten when Aurora sighs, lovingly running her fingers through your hair. Migrating upwards, you situate yourself on top of the ghoul, and she giggles as you smother her with your weight. You cup her cheek with a hand and kiss her hard, forcing your tongue into her mouth so that she can get a good taste of herself. She happily accepts, and you smile as her hands find their way to the globes of your ass.

“I was dreaming about you,” Aurora says with a pout once you pull away. You laugh, nuzzling your face into the crook of her neck.

“Sorry for waking you, princess. You looked so pretty, I just couldn’t resist.”

[devnmon]

A Little Twisted

Summary: The Winchester's take a case you've put the file together for, and despite the opinion of your mother, Ellen Harvelle, you chase their tail to help them on the hunt. [Based on 2.06 of SPN, aka No Exit.]

Word count: 3.8k

A/n: Listen I know we all love Jo but wouldn't it be fun to imagine us in her place instead? Clearly under the gaze of Dean Winchester, as well?? I've got just the fic for you :] (also this is just a little fic I finished and wanted to post as a way to clean up my wips. I'm still on hiatus, but I hope you all take this as a little parting gift. love u all <3)

You’d spent the morning arguing with your mother, Ellen Harvelle, over whether or not you were “allowed” to leave the roadhouse and go out on your own to hunt. You for one, were fed up with her obvious disregard for how old you actually were, 21 years old, a grown woman. You should be able to go out on your own, especially for something like this. The disagreement quickly turned to a yelling match between the two of you, throat burning as you continue to defend yourself.

“You can’t keep me here!”

“Oh don’t you bet on that, sweetie.”

You bet on a lot of things in life, but this you were sure you knew you wanted- this you were sure you needed.

“What are you gonna do? Are you gonna chain me up in the basement?”

“You know what? You’ve had worse ideas than that recently. Hey, you don’t wanna stay? Don’t stay. Go back to school!”

School. College. The place every single person side eyed you for your interests and style of clothing. You couldn't go back. Not after almost making a stab victim out of a man who'd been harassing you nonstop. To prevent being suspended or worse, you dropped out.

“I didn’t belong there! I was a freak with a knife collection!”

She didn't understand. She would never understand.

“Yeah but getting yourself killed on some dusty backroad- that’s where you belong?!”

It was then your eyes faltered from your mother’s expression to the two men that had walked into their bar. It seemed the tension finally broke as she whipped her head around at them. The Winchesters.

“Guys, bad time.”

"Yes ma'am." Sam took the tension in the room as a sign, considering they had walked in on an argument, ones you assumed they'd had multiple times with each other.

"Yeah, we rarely drink before 10, anyway." Dean followed, not wanting to agitate your mother any more than you already had.

The Winchesters just happened to butt into the argument at the most convenient time for you. Dean and Sam’s rushed apology for interrupting sends them turning toward the door again, until you catch their attention.

“Wait. I wanna know what they think about this.” Huffing, you walk over to the countertop with the file thrown on top of it.

“I don’t care what they think!” She retorted once again, wanting to keep it between you two.

They’re both staring awkwardly before the roadhouse phone rings, making you glare at it, the ringing repeating before your mother paused the argument to answer it.

Dean and Sam stayed out of the disagreement in fear of what your mother would say or do to them if they’d intervened.

But, with her back turned, you quickly grabbed the case file off the bartop and approached the brothers.

“Three weeks ago a young girl disappears from a Philadelphia apartment.”

Silence rang out as Dean just stared at you, holding the file out for him to grab.

“Take it, it won’t bite.” You said sarcastically, lifting it up to his face.

“No, but your mom might.” You tilted your head at Dean, knowing he couldn’t say no to you.

The green-eyed man's eyebrows dropped from their raised position as he finally grabbed the file from your hands. Relief washed over you in watching the brothers peek through the file.

“And this girl wasn’t the first. Over the past 80 years, six women have vanished. All from the same building, all young blondes.”

You explained the details of the case in more detail, glancing from Sam to Dean to see how they reacted to the information. You picked up on Sam’s genuine interest in it, while Dean only looked it over plainly until you finished going on about it.

“It only happens every decade or two, so cops never eyeball the pattern. So we’re either dealing with one very old serial killer or-“

Dean finally spoke.

“Who put this together? Ash?”

As if he thought a woman couldn't put a silly little case file together.

“I did it myself.” You admitted, proudly, noticing Dean’s face falter with what looked like genuine surprise.

He glanced between your face beaming with pride, and the file in his hands. Dean wouldn't admit it, but he was impressed with your extensive knowledge on the case, only giving you a look.

“Huh.”

“I gotta admit, we’ve hit the road for a lot less.” Sam spoke up again.

The sound of the phone being hung up was the last thing you heard before your mother spoke again.

“Good. If you like the case so much, you take it.” Ellen's voice sounded out again, having ended the phone call abruptly.

Turning to your mother again with more annoyance this time, your scowl intensified.

“Mom.”

Another desperate plea for you mother to treat you like the adult you factually were. Didn't matter if she didn't think you could do it, you believed in yourself enough for the both of them.

“Sweetheart, this family has lost enough. I won’t lose you too. I just won’t.”

With that, the brothers took the case file with them and drove off. As they'd hit the road, your plan to catch up with them wasn’t far behind.

You’d been eager to join the Winchesters for this specific hunt, one you put the case file together for. It was easier to let your mother cool off for a while, before even attempting to talk to her again.

You had fibbed to the hawk-like supervision of her that night by letting her know you’d gone to Vegas, far after the brothers had left. It was only a diversion from where you were really going, roping Ash into laying a credit card trail all the way to Nevada, after threatening him to keep your plans to himself.

You drove all the way to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, showing up to the apartment building Dean and Sam had already been looking around in.

“You did a really good job with this place,” your voice echoed down the hallway, in conversation with the landlord of the building.

Imagine your surprise when the slight turn of your head from down the hallway brought Sam and Dean into your view.

“The hell are you doing here?” Dean muttered, an idea for cover popping into your head.

Your eyes brightened up as you saw him, in a way that made Dean question what the hell you were doing, until you spoke.

“There you are, honey. This is my boyfriend, Dean, and his buddy Sam.”

Boyfriend? Dean thought.

“Good to meet you.” Dean shook the man’s hand, wanting to play along with your facade before actually asking you what was up.

”Quite a gal you got here.” The landlord replied, standing opposite the three of you now.

“Oh yeah, she’s a pistol!” Dean choked out, grabbing your waist quite tightly. His grip only tightened around you, relishing in the feeling of the older Winchester's hand a little too much for a split second.

“So, did you already check out the apartment? The one for rent?” You said, another fake laugh getting choked out.

“Yeah. Yes. Loved it. Great flow.”

Smooth, Winchester…

“How'd you get in?” The landlord questioned.

“It was open.”

Dean’s so good at covering his ass, it almost made you blush.

“Now, Ed, um, when did the last tenant move out?” Dean spoke again, still playing along with your rouse.

“About a month ago. Cut and run, too. Stiffed me for the rent.”

“Well, her loss, our gain. ‘Cause if Dean-o loves it, it’s good enough for me.” The fake smile you’d been putting on was starting to pain your cheeks, secretly hoping this more than awkward conversation would come to an end soon enough.

“Oh sweetie..” Dean jolted your body closer to him with his arm once again, aggravated at how you managed to lie to your mother and make it out here, not to mention put up such a convincing fib to the landlord's face.

“We’ll take it.” You stated, handing him the wad of cash in your purse.

“Ah. Okay.” The man took the money from you, in awe of it as he walked you to the apartment and handed you the key.

Time passed, and the brothers had been loading their guns on the table in the middle of the apartment, your hand shuffling through your bag for something as you looked over to the older Winchester.

“I’ll flip you for the sofa," you spoke, pulling your knife out of the bag.

“Does your mother even know you’re here?” Dean's tone held hints of annoyance, but you knew he was glad to see you. Even if he didn't show it.

“Told her I was going to Vegas.”

“You think she’s gonna buy that?”

Dean knew your mother, Ellen wasn't shy of stupid, by a long shot. He knew if he didn't give you up, your mother would have him by the balls otherwise.

“I’m not an idiot. I got Ash to lay a credit card trail all the way to the casinos.” You smirked, proud of yourself but still feeling like Dean was upset with you.

“You know, you shouldn’t lie to your mom. You shouldn't be here, either.”

You glance over to Sam, who’s inspecting the gun in his hand with a different look on his face.

“Well, I am. So untwist your boxers and deal with it.”

“Where’d you get all that money from, anyways?” Sam spoke for the first time since your back and forth with Dean.

“Working, at the Roadhouse.”

“Hunters don’t tip that well.” Dean started again.

“Well, they aren’t that good at poker, either.”

You had the skill to hustle other hunters in poker? You? A Harvelle? And Dean hadn’t found this out till now?

Silence fills the air as Dean’s cell starts to ring, picking it up and pausing his bickering.

You continued looking through your bag for your knife, until Dean answered the phone. Pausing, you listened in to Dean’s conversation.

If that’s my mother…

“Yeah? Oh hi, Ellen.”

Shit.

You swiftly walked towards Dean, frantically whisper yelling in his face, your mother on the other side of the phone call.

Your voices overlapped in chaotic whispers as Dean hesitated telling your mother you’d lied to her.

“Don’t you tell her. I’ll kill you if you do. Don’t you do it.”

“Oh, I’m telling her. You’re not even supposed to be here-”

And then with some will-power he still had, Dean decided to keep your secret.

“I haven’t seen her. Yeah, I’m- I’m sure. Absolutely.”

The annoyed look on Dean’s face as he hung the phone up only made you grin from ear to ear.

The three of you sat in the middle of the apartment still, flipping the knife in your hand, as you went over the history of the building to rule out any causes of of these women going missing.

“Would you sit down please?” You said to the older, broad-shouldered Winchester. Dean was pacing behind you, inducing your worry about the case further. He only shared a look with you, before sitting down and continuing on about different reports and evidence of past cases.

“So, have you checked the police reports, uh, county death records…”

You knew the older Winchester had a problem with you showing up while him and Sam were on this hunt. Though, you were the one that gave them the case, to begin with. You spent ten more minutes trying to convince Dean that you knew what you were doing on this hunt. The sources you referenced, spewing out of your brain one after another in an attempt to show them both how serious you were taking this.

It seemed like no matter how much you proved yourself to Dean, he always shot back with another point as to why you shouldn't be there.

"Obituaries, mortuary reports, and seven other sources. I know what I'm doing."

“I think the jury’s still out on that one.” You continued flipping the blade in your hand until Dean said, “Would you put the knife down?”

You placed the knife on the table with a smug look on your face.

“Okay. So, uh, it’s something else then. Maybe some kind of cursed object that brought a spirit with it.” Sam spoke, trying to move their investigation along to find out more about what it is they’re hunting.

“We gotta scan the whole building, everywhere we can get to, right?” It was the fastest way to find a possible lead.

“Right. So, you and me will take the top two floors.” Dean butted in, standing up from his chair.

“We’d move faster if we split up.” You also rose from where you sat, only wanting to move the investigation along quicker.

“Oh, this isn’t negotiable.” The look on Dean’s face said he didn't want to argue anymore and that you’d just have to face the fact that he'd be accompanying you.

“Fine.”

The two of you made it to the top floor of the apartment complex, EMF detectors in hand as you began roaming the hallways side by side. Truth was you enjoyed Dean’s presence, when he wasn’t being a complete ass. You could sense a spark between the two of you, but you'd just have to wait for the right moment to make your move on it.

Plus it was fun to tease him about it in the meantime.

“So, you gonna buy me dinner?”

Dean glanced over to you, then back to his EMF detector while scanning the apartment hallway.

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s just- if you’re gonna ride me this close, it’s only decent you buy me dinner.”

You were only half joking with him, though the idea of a date with Dean Winchester wasn’t completely terrible sounding. You knew your presence didn’t bother him as much as he’d let on to.

The first time he saw you working around the roadhouse, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you.

The obvious spark between you and Dean only burned brighter every time you were around him, tension thick enough to be cut with a knife.

“Oh, that’s hilarious. You know it’s bad enough I lied to your mom, but if you think I’m letting you out of my sight- I don’t know if you noticed, but you’re kind of the spirits type.”

“Exactly.”

That was the moment Dean realized why you were so avid about this hunt.

“You want to be bait?”

“Quickest way to draw it out and you know it.”

Dean only chuckled in response.

“What?”

“I’m so regretting this.” Dean’s tone was more aggravated now, like he had realized something that put you at risk.

Pausing, you decide that Dean’s attitude wasn’t something you wanted to deal with anymore.

“You know, I've had it up to here with your crap.”

He turned to you, somewhat taken back by what you’d just admitted to him.

“Excuse me?”

“Your chauvinist crap. You think women can’t do the job.”

That was the moment Dean had it with you. There was no way to express that he didn't want you putting yourself in danger without expressing how he felt about you, but he also knew you hadn't been hunting before, even if you put together a convincing case file.

“Sweetheart, this ain’t gender studies. Women can do the job fine. Amateurs can’t. You got no experience. What you do have is a bunch of half-baked romantic notions that some barfly has put in your head.”

“And now, you sound like my mother.”

“Oh, and that’s a bad thing? Because let me tell you-“

“What?” you shook your head at Dean’s hesitation with answering you and finishing his sentence.

“Forget it.”

“No, you started this.”

“Y/n, you got options. No one in their right mind chooses this life. My dad started me in this when I was so young, I wish I could do something else.”

“You love the job.”

“Yeah, but I’m a little twisted.”

“You don’t think I’m a little twisted, too?”

“You’ve got a mother that worries about you. Who wants something more for you. Those are good things. You don’t throw things like that away. They might be hard to find later.”

Dean started to walk away from you, until your hand pulls on his jacket, turning back to you.

“Dean, wait.”

“What?”

You paused, wanting to hold a serious conversation with Dean, the look on your face making him turn back fully and focus on you.

Shooting him a pointed look, you took a deep breath.

"Look, if you wanna hate me for lying to my mom or whatever, then fine. But let's realize that we're both here for the same reason: to hunt and kill whatever's in this building. I think it's cute and all that you want what's best for me, wanna protect me from whatever evil the world has to offer, but you're not taking me from this hunt. Not when I'm the one that put the damn case file together in the first place." Your finger poked Dean's chest argumentatively, swallowing down the realization of how firm it was under your touch.

Dean clenched his jaw awkwardly, noticing how your eyes shifted down from his to glance at his lips for a split second.

Or maybe he was imagining it, too caught up in your heated argument to notice. There had always been something between you and Dean, something too low to notice at first.

But where there was a spark, there was a flame.

"Are you gonna say anything? Or just let me talk my head off?" You shook your head as the older Winchester stayed silent, noticing his gaze shoot across your soft features ever so slightly.

"I-" He started to speak, but got cut off with your impatient tone.

"No. You know what? I'm done trying to tell you why I'm here. Do what you want, hate me if you want.. I don't care-"

Dean's lips were the only thing you felt before freezing in your stance for a slight moment at the contact.

It wasn't unwelcome, just unexpected.

Half a second passed before your lips melded with his, plump and soft against yours. His kiss softened, palm cupping your cheek now. The moment had stopped time, his lips against yours consuming all the thoughts and worries from the hunt washing away.

You swore you heard a groan from him as your hand pressed against his chest. It was only a moment later before Dean pulled away, looking down at you in a different way now.

The pink of Dean's tongue poked out to wet his lips, an action you couldn't help yourself from gawking at, before he decided to speak.

"I'm never gonna hate you. Matter of fact, that's the last thing I feel, sweetheart." The boyish chuckle that filled your ears only gravitated you towards him even more.

"Dean..." You breathed, noticing how the blush in his cheeks reddened when you spoke his name.

"No, look. I don't want you to put yourself in danger for the sake of the case, it ain't right." You pouted at his words, in which he held up a hand to halt you from saying anything, "But, if you think you're up for it, then I'm not gonna stand in your way. I just- your mom is gonna have my ass if something happens to you."

You shake your head vigorously, meeting the compassionate look in Dean's eyes with your own. "As much as you'd like to protect me, there's only so much you can do. If we're gonna finish this hunt, we have to take risks. I promise you I'll be fine. No matter what happens. Okay?"

Dean listened intently to every word you said, with a hint of worry and skepticism in his eyes. He knew you could handle yourself, you were a Harvelle, of course. But he would be damned if he didn't worry a shit ton about the beautiful woman in front of him. He'd already swore to himself that he would keep you safe, no matter what, and do anything and everything it took in order to return you back to the safety of your bed at night.

With a small nod, Dean's pretty green eyes lit up with hope.

"Dammit," Dean swore, lifting his head to you, "I swear to god if you aren't careful-"

"When am I not?" Your hands grabbed at his red shirt, rubbing up and down his chest ever so slightly, eyes flicking between his and his lips that sat perfectly under his nose.

"Just don't get reckless. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you. Couldn't live with myself if I got you killed or worse before I even got the chance to-" He trailed off, thoughts running ramped behind that perfect head of his.

"Before what?" Tilting your head to the side, curious at what the Winchester suggested. It was Dean's turn to flick his eyes between yours and the soft lips he'd pressed against his just a moment before.

"Before... I did this," Dean's hands surrounded your waist, pulling you against his chest, close enough to feel his breath on your cheek, "And this.." he pressed his lips to your neck, tipping your chin up for more access to your skin, licking your skin ever so slightly with his tongue. It pulled a gasp from you, one of your hands reaching up to run your fingers through his hair.

"Dean..." His name whimpered from your lips due to his mouth paying attention to a particular spot on the skin of your neck, "Kiss me again."

Your boldness pulled him from your neck, lust-blown eyes meeting yours again as that cheeky but sexy smile grew across his face.

"Gladly." One of his hands cupped your jaw, pressing his lips to yours again. The feeling stirred in your gut as his kisses filled you with enamor, one you didn't know was there until you pressed your lips further against his own. His fingers against your skin had goosebumps spreading across your skin like a wave.

"Now you really have to buy me that dinner..." you chuckled, Dean humming against your skin.

"Mmm... you're right. What kind of a man would I be if I didn't? Especially after kissing you in this hallway like a couple of teenagers.." Dean pulled away from your face, placing another kiss on your cheek. His palm cupped the same cheek he'd just kissed, the heat of your skin warming his hand.

"We will get through this hunt. And when it's over... it better be a damn good dinner."

You smiled at the green-eyed man before you, and when his eyes met yours, he smirked and nodded again.

"You bet it's gonna be. I am the classy type."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

As much as you wanted to stay pressed up against the older Winchester, making out like teenagers at a high school party, you pushed his chest off you and continued down the corridor in search of evidence.

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