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wiseoldowl72 · 2 years ago

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I just posted chp 1 of my first multi-chapter story on ao3.

All that I’m after is a life full of laughter

As long as I’m laughing with you…

~ Life after You; Daughtry

21 Years ago

Dean and Cas Novak-Winchester were both quite aware that their twenty year wedding anniversary was coming up. Turning back the clock to 2001 would see their original wedding in a small church in California, where they both had gone for college. They had agreed to marry right after their undergraduate graduation on the 28th of June. They did a traditional service just like the “industry” sold them: tuxes, flowers, music, groom party, vows, and reception, but on a tight timeline and miniscule budget. They didn’t have a honeymoon as they were thrown right back into life with preparing for the next phase of their lives, more school and then pursuing jobs.

They each had chosen Stanford, neither knowing the other before the beginning of their freshman year. By chance the two were put together as roommates. Neither knew it was going to be the beginning of a friendship that would progress to being lovers over the course of their four year undergraduate life.

Dean Winchester was full of life, ready to take on the world, 18 years old from Overland Park, Kansas. Even though the city was on the western side of Kansas City, a large metropolitan area, he was looking desperately for a new chapter after high school out of the middle of fly-over country. Stanford offered him a full ride for academics and a place in their engineering department based on his application. He was completely surprised because of the low acceptance rate the highly selective institution had. Dean jumped at the chance to move west without a second thought.

He had been tinkering with everything he could get his hands on trying to learn how it worked or improved its function. He learned how to take cars apart and put them back together by the time he was in early high school. Mechanical Engineering was a role he had set for himself once he had mastered restoring cars at his Uncle and Father’s garage, Singer-Winchester Automotive. Dean had made a small name for himself of being able to solve just about any technical problem presented to him. He wanted to have a career in design and testing either in automotive or aerospace. He soaked in the sun, sea and opportunities the West Coast presented to a gay young man who had come from a Red State that looked unkindly on his sexual preferences.

Castiel Novak followed in the footsteps of his family into the medical profession. He hadn’t decided what he wanted to do, but an undergrad degree in biology or chemistry would be enough for now. Castiel moved from Naperville, Illinois, to the coast as well. He attended a top high school in the bedroom community of Chicago. It offered him many opportunities other high schools didn’t, resulting in his graduating in the top two percent of his class with a GPA well over 4.0 due to taking multiple Advanced Placement courses.

He had received several enticing offers due to his class standing. His father was a heart surgeon at Edward Hospital and while he didn’t see his father much, the family enjoyed the fruits of his work. Castiel had his choice of schools and didn’t have to worry about paying for it. What he did know is that he didn’t want to be a surgeon like his father. He wanted more out of life than working all the time. Stanford won out because it was on the coast, had a medical school, and was consistently ranked at the top of national universities.

When both fresh-faced teenagers moved into the dorm of the historic school for their first quarter as Stanford freshman. Stanford worked on a quarter system rather than the semester system most universities and school districts used. The school used three main quarters, Autumn, Winter, and Spring. Summer was optional, but it could be used to get a foot up on the next year, finish the previous year’s requirements, or be involved in a special session or internship. Unlike more traditional schools that started in August for their undergraduate programs, Stanford started their Autumn quarter in September and it finished December.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They quickly found that they had very opposite personalities. Castiel knew he was in for a big change from his room in Naperville when he walked into the dorm room to find one side already filled with another’s belongings and a man laying on the bed with headphones. This was his first impression of his roommate for the next year. Cas came from a family and area that was welcoming of queer people. His choices were never met with hostility or homophobia. When he saw Dean laying on his bed, his first thought was that he was very lucky to be given such a handsome roommate. It was quickly followed by wondering if his attractions were similar to Cas’ own, very high on the Kinsey scale.

Dean was out-going, always busy, loved cars (especially muscle and race cars), military aircraft, and was not a neat freak. He didn’t bring very much with him to move in. Just the basics: clothes, a couple Vonnegut books, a record player and vinyl spanning the late 60s to the 90s, cassette tapes with a Walkman, and only a couple of photos.

His only prize possession was his parent’s 1967 Chevy Impala, named Baby, that his Dad had given him the keys to upon high school graduation. It was the one thing that Dean kept immaculate and constantly in top shape. Since Dean loved to drive and didn’t want to fly (why be trapped in a tin can, when people weren’t supposed to fly anyway?), he thoroughly enjoyed the trip from Kansas City to Palo Alto. The first thing he did after putting his things away was clean and wash Baby to get the dirt off her.

Castiel started bringing his things into the room in boxes labeled to make unpacking easier. “Bedding”, “clothes”, “books”, “desk supplies”, and “family” were among the Sharpie-written names Dean could make out before he closed his eyes to go back to his music. Castiel wasn’t always completely orderly and neat, but he wanted to know where everything was at any given time.

Castiel quickly found that Dean liked to talk, he narrated to himself even when he didn’t have anything to say to anyone. He, himself, was taciturn, more formal in his speech and attire, kept to himself, and wasn’t into music or movies, preferring to read the classics. He spoke and read fluently in French and Spanish, and enjoyed books in those languages. He appreciated Greek and Roman works, which he read in English translations. He also made his bed every morning.

Dean was lucky to make his laundry hamper or make his bed. The only thing that stayed organized was his music, books, and he remembered to hang his towel up to dry every night.The only thing he meticulously kept clean was his Impala. That was drilled into him from his Dad with military diligence. John had been a Marine and never lost his training or mindset. He was also Dean’s reason for interest in military mechanics.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the year wore on Dean and Castiel, or Cas, as Dean had started calling him, found that they both were savagely protective about their study time and supported each other in getting the best grades on their work. They ate in the dining hall, walked to the library and classes together as often as possible. They were two Midwestern kids, who didn’t really fit in with the usual college kids at an upper class institution.

By the end of their freshman year, Dean had declared a major in mechanical engineering with the Bachelor of Science. Cas decided on a double major in biology and chemistry. Dean knew he wanted to go all the way and work with the Design school. By the time he was interested in graduate school the Mechanical Engineering degree would be integrating with the Design school. Which fit Dean perfectly because he wanted to create and see the fruition of his work. Just like in the old days when he was working on cars, he could see the product of his work by the end of the project.

Back in their room, while down time was minimal, Dean usually listened to his music, rock usually on vinyl or cassette, and watched movies on his laptop. Cas preferred his mp3 player with the soft tones of Mozart and Bach while he read either in his reading nook or on his bed.

Even though their personalities were radically different, they found they really liked each other. What started as a friendship based on mutual desire to be the best at their studies and enjoy what college offered, turned into mutual desire for each other by the end of the year.

It began by walking closer to each other on the sidewalks and paths, then their hands started brushing without knowing it, and they held eye contact for longer than necessary when talking. Dean was able to pull out more of Cas’ dry wit and the two found themselves quite compatible. Soon, they were staring at each other hoping the other wouldn’t notice the sense of longing.

The next development came when Cas agreed to watch movies with Dean after the New Year. They picked a bed and alternated movies. Dean chose Star Wars, Harry Potter, Indiana Jones, Lord of the Rings, sci-fi and adventure movies. Cas was drawn to the Golden Era of Hollywood, movies with Gary Cooper, Cary Grant, Humphrey Bogart, etc. He also found he liked Film Noir. While they were watching their hands found each other, to hold or slip around the other’s shoulders or waist, and many times they’d wake up in the morning finding that they’d end up cuddling overnight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sitting for hours in the library, class or desk didn’t do much for maintaining the fit shape Dean and Cas were both in. Dean had spent hours at the garage physically working with engines, body work, or anything else car-related back at his relative’s shop back home. Cas had chosen to run to clear his mind after studies at home. They both had their life turned upside down by school, so a new routine was created around full classes schedules, assignments and studying.

When they weren’t otherwise occupied the two Midwestern boys tried to get to the beaches, boardwalks, hiking and biking paths. Both visited used bike shops to get cheaper mountain bikes in good condition to ride to help burn off excess energy and keep in shape. While it wasn’t their old routine, it was better in some ways because of the variety and views.

They had found several favorite rides and hikes by the end of the year. Land-locked Dean found he enjoyed being in the ocean, even though he didn’t know how to swim. Cas always stayed near because he had been a stand-out athlete on his high school swim team. Through the college gossip network the duo had found several different places around Palo Alto that were within 20-30 min driving time. Since Dean loved to drive, he never minded a chance to get Baby off campus and open her up on the highway.

The time in the sun, sea, and other joint activities gradually changed both young men. Dean’s hair, which was more light brown than blond when the school year started, turned more honey colored from the sun that brought out the gold flecks in his green eyes. Cas’ hair remained dark brown, almost black, and unmanageable. It also curled more on the ends from the humidity. Dean didn’t care if it stood out like Einstein’s as long as the sun, time away from campus, and laughter brought out the mirth in his velvet blue sapphire eyes. The long hours of studying turned them to a pale, cornflower color, a color Dean found reminiscent of the flowers on his mother’s cookware.

It was spending so much time together, mostly because they were the only Midwest kids either of them took to, that changed their affections for each other. Dean couldn’t believe somebody else knew where Kansas was and there weren’t cows roaming the streets of his hometown. When the relationship moved to a more romantic one at the end of their Spring Quarter in June, it was Dean who hesitated. He didn’t know Cas was out of the closet and had been for years. It just had never been discussed. Dean’s years back home taught him to be reserved and careful about letting anybody see his true preference to be with a man. Homophobia had not been expressly discussed, but Dean knew his Dad well enough to know that he didn’t approve. Cas though had no such apprehensions.

They headed out to the beach before heading home for a quick visit before the start of the summer quarter in twelve days. As they were putting their beach things back into the Impala, Cas lifted his hands up to gently hold Dean’s jaw and kissed him solidly, but gently on the lips. Dean reciprocated with a steady, soft kiss of his own that slowly deepened until they were in a locked embrace. The energy and buzzing in his heart and gut told Dean that there definitely was potential there that he wanted to explore. But only if he could do it in the open. No more trying to hide his true self.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cas flew home to Illinois, while Dean drove Baby back to Kansas for the short visit. The long drive gave him plenty of time to think about the kiss and sort out his feelings. He would drive anywhere if it meant he didn’t have to fly. Even airports made him nervous to an extent, mostly because he’d never been in one more than half-a-dozen times that he could remember before agreeing to be Cas’ ride to the airport.

With the Impala opened up on the highway and roaring east, Dean contemplated his current situation. Baby was the car his father bought when his mother was pregnant with him. It was the car he learned to restore and keep running at top condition. Honestly, it was the reason he became interested in getting an engineering degree. While he thought the car was perfection, the pinnacle of motor development when it came off the line April 21, 1967. He pondered the major changes in car design in the last 50 years and thought how much he wanted to be involved in that world. Even without air conditioning, 2 speed automatic, cassette player, and legos in the radiator Dean couldn’t bring himself to make any changes to his Baby. It was perfect just as it was.

Cas had told him before he went through airport security that he was interested in pursuing a relationship with Dean. He had actually been attracted to him all year, but wasn’t sure how Dean felt about him. Cas asked him to think about their talks and how he felt about being together when they returned to school. Dean thought about the kiss, how slowly all year they gradually became closer, holding each other, and falling asleep together. It all culminated in that kiss. The energy, desire, longing, affection infused in it, honestly told Dean what he needed to know about how Cas felt about him. It was clear how he responded and wanted for them once they returned to school. Now it was dealing with the time at home and not losing his courage.

Dean spent the majority of his drive and the several days at home feeling like he was missing part of himself. He caught up with his family and spent time at the family garage. He told them all about his classes, the campus, what he did for fun around the city, but only told them surface level details about Cas.

Even though his family knew he wasn’t really into girls, they hoped he would find someone someday. If anything they thought he wasn’t really interested in anyone. Though they weren’t homophobic, the idea that Dean was homosexual was something they didn’t want to consider of talk about until confronted with it. John’s manly views were well known in the family. Real men were patriotic, liked cars, football, and enjoyed the ladies. Mary was more open than her husband. She understood that love is love and comes in many forms. As always, she was the mediator between her husband and the boys.

Dean’s devotion to Cas didn’t waver though on this break and they texted every night. He really didn’t have to think about how he felt about the blue-eyed beauty. He wanted to be his boyfriend and see if he could finally have a relationship with someone he felt deeping, emotionally drawn to. One text really stood out to him and he kept it safely archived in his messages. Cas had been telling him how he missed him as well and had him listen to a song by Rachel Platten called ‘Stand by You.’ Dean was extremely lonely while they were parted, missing his best friend and new possible boyfriend. Cas had written back the lines,

“Love, you’re not alone

‘Cause I’m going to stand by you”

Those couple of lines solidified Dean’s desire to do his best to have a romantic relationship with Cas when they returned for Summer quarter.

Cas had been quite open with his feelings in the time after finals until it was time to fly home. He knew how he felt about Dean. How he’d felt about Dean all year. He felt his attachment grow between completing all the Frosh requirements, knowing he was going to go for two majors and planning his next 3 years. He still wasn’t sure how long it was going to take him, but he hoped to graduate with Dean in the spring of 2001. He just knew he wanted Dean with him as his support and alternately to support him through his desire to pursue a Bachelor of Science in Engineering.

All year he slowly tried to feel out Dean’s sexual preferences by brushing up against him, letting their hands touch and he couldn’t stop taking in the green eyes of the knockout he hoped would date him. In June, knowing finals were coming he looked back at their year and took in all the positive responses he’d gotten from Dean when it came to affection. Cas never regretted taking that chance to kiss him at the beach just before they left for break. It led to honest discussions about their mutual attraction.

Cas finally understood why Dean hadn’t been forthcoming about his preferences. He explained it was because of the only “just tolerated” acceptance of gays in his part of the Midwest. Dean didn’t have the best self-esteem due to that and his family’s unenthusiastic support of him. Dean also told him about his father’s more traditional views and his mother’s mediation. Cas made a point to tell him how different his life had been and that other parts of the country, including California were quite different. He hoped when Dean picked him up from the airport before summer quarter their reunion would be unequivocally positive and a step forward for them. Cas missed Dean more than he’d missed anyone before in those few days between quarters. The texts they shared felt like the only tether he had during that time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Dean picked Cas up from the airport right before the start of summer term he greeted him with a swinging hug and hungry open-mouthed kiss in which he swept his tongue over Cas’ soft lips and gently inside his mouth to show his boyfriend-to-be that he had made his decision. Cas acknowledged Dean’s response with eagerly accepting his kiss and hug with as much excitement as he could. It was more than he ever expected out of Dean, knowing how the entire year he had been shy about showing affection in public, much less as a gay couple. That was the beginning of what became a very profound bond between the two men.

For the next four years as they steadily worked through their requirements for their degrees they stayed steady by each other through everything during University. They were able to move into an apartment-style residence in one of the school neighborhoods. That allowed them more privacy, while still staying close to classes and their departments. Testing and assignments were rigorous, but each quarter they got the grades they needed, their mentors were pleased with their progress. Cas did eventually apply for a double major, a BS in Biology and Chemistry. Their professors helped them get ready for Graduate School in Dean’s case, and Stanford’s University of Medicine for Cas. Dean was on a long-term path for a Ph.D in Mechanical Engineering with emphasis in Design and hope of a career in automotive or aerospace design. Cas still planned on being a doctor. He didn’t have to decide on a specialty yet. He had until his third year when he started looking for residency programs.

In the Autumn of their undergraduate Senior year, both men were thinking of marriage. From everything they experienced together, fights over laundry, fights over study time, and lack of private time their relationship continued to blossom and mature. Dates on the beach, candlelight dinners in the apartment on the sofa, and sticky notes found inside class notebooks were little things that kept them going. The lines of Rachel Patton’s song, ‘Stand by You’ continued to be their mantra for the last three years of schooling. They had their eyes on matriculation in June of 2001, but they also knew they wanted to spend their lives together. Cas and Dean had discussed the pitfalls of being a couple trying to complete the goals they each had, they never once questioned the loyalty and commitment of the other. Those two lines of lyrics Dean had archived in his home from his first summer visit home always reminded him of his promise to Cas. Each had probably played the whole song on repeat a thousand times to remind them they were not alone in this endeavor and get them through the tough times when they felt lonely.

And hey, if you wings are broken

Please take mine ‘til yours can open too

‘Cause I’m gonna stand by you…

We can find a way to break through

Even if we can’t find heaven

I’ll walk through hell with you…

And the lyric that choked Dean up the first time Cas texted it to him and set him on this course…

Love, you’re not alone

‘Cause I’m gonna stand by you

It was their anthem. There was no denying they metaphorically wrapped their wings around each other. They developed an intimate home in their apartment from Stanford housing and shared one room, while turning the second bedroom into an office. The school still considered them roommates, but they had created their own bubble. Their physical relationship included as much gentle touching and reminders that they weren’t alone as they felt they were at times. Dean was not as intimate as Cas would have liked, but Cas had more experience. Making out, sleeping together in one bed, showing love by gentle caresses carried him over as they slogged through their classes. Dean became bolder as the years moved on, but he never took that final step of climaxing together. Cas was willing to wait for his love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was Dean who surprised Cas at the end of the Autumn Quarter in December with an unassuming proposal beneath the stars at their favorite beach. They had taken a picnic dinner and beach towels with the idea of just laying and watching the stars in the peace and quiet after the hell week of finals. They both were headed into their last quarter of their undergrad year and stress was at an all time high.

Under the stars, while sharing a piece of apple pie and a beer, Dean secretly pulled out a simple silver titanium band with a blue lapis insert all the way around. Ideal for the doctor-to-be. Dean wasn’t very good at expressing his feelings, but the years with Cas had taught him that honesty and words from the heart meant more to him than anything a wordsmith could create. With a trembling heart, Dean asked Cas in the most sincere way he could to be his husband. To stand with him and by him through all the years and seasons to come. Cas started crying immediately when he figured out what was going on and said yes. He accepted the ring with a shaking hand and very overflowing heart.

Dean shyly told him he’d already bought his own ring in the hopes Cas would say yes. It was nearly a match to Cas’, but instead of the Blue Lapis insert in the center of the band, his was black Tantalum insert that had been textured inside the Titanium. Both rings were extremely durable and meant for men that worked with their hands. Dean’s Tantalum was corrosion resistant, which was a huge plus given his work with chemicals, engines, simulations, and other activities that were required by his profession.

Cas slowly took Dean’s ring and put it on his hand and they celebrated their engagement by enjoying a private beach that allowed them to take the time to cherish, caress, and enjoy each other’s bodies until they both came to completion for the first time in only the way a soulmate pair could. In the early morning hours they cleaned up, dressed, and went back to their apartment relishing the fact they were now fiancés.

Both of the men had decided to stay in Palo Alto on Campus for the holiday break. Too much work to do for school and prep for moving on to post-grad choices had made the decision easy for them back in November. Now with their new relationship status they spend part of the time enjoying each other intimately without the rush of school, and the rest talking about how to coordinate life after their graduation. Cas planned to go directly into Stanford’s medical school and Dean had already taken the appropriate prerequisites to continue on with his mentors.

Christmas was a quiet affair since there wasn’t isn’t a big reason to celebrate. Their engagement was enough of a surprise to both of them and kept their spirits light until the next academic quarter started. They caught each other looking at their hands as if they couldn’t believe they were actually engaged. Three years of being together, two and a half as an official couple and something each of them had wished for had happened. Dean didn’t even intend on proposing that night. He just felt right about it and apparently it was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At New Year’s while they were kissing and holding each other on the beach watching the fireworks light the sky with their multitude of colors, out of the blue Cas asked if they could have the marriage after graduation that summer. It seemed logical to him to cap off two important parts of his life with memorializations. June 12th was the graduation date and only the important family would be coming in for it. Cas’ parents and his brother Gabe. The other brothers and sisters were otherwise occupied with their lives. Dean’s parents, brother Sam, and his Uncle Bobby and his wife Ellen had already responded they would be coming. Cas figured if the family was already coming in, then maybe they could stay a couple weeks more for a wedding. Nothing big, but special enough for the two of them. Dean easily agreed knowing that they had six months to plan it.

The last quarter flew by in what seemed like a month between papers, end of year projects, tests, finals, Cas’ first MCAT test, and formal applications to their chosen post grad schools. They made sure they had their educational needs settled according to an ever growing list kept in the kitchen. All the things they needed to do and dates to make sure applications were turned in by the appropriate date, scholarships applied for, student housing applied for, academic mentor meetings, finals week dates, and final senior project dates. Late in the quarter both received the letters they’d been waiting for that they’d been accepted into their prospective schools. Cas got his place in Stanford’s Medical School and Dean into the Graduate program in Engineering. They applied for spousal housing and were accepted. Living in on campus housing made getting to all the places they needed easier and much less expensive.

While Cas had money he could have used, Dean didn’t. They tried to keep the differences between their social strata as unrecognizable as possible. Dean had worked on campus to earn spending money and pay extra expenses, while Cas holed up working on his double major with his allowance. It was true that Stanford was known as having one of the most wealthy student populations, but that wasn’t the case for everyone. Dean bought everything he needed, like their rings, without any help from his family. In fact neither of them had told their family about how far advanced their relationship was or that they had gotten engaged. Both families knew they were living together and were best friends. Cas’ family knew more than Dean’s because of how accepting they were of his homosexuality. The Novak’s knew that Cas was extremely smitten with Dean and they suspected more than what they were told due to how he talked, smiled, and acted. When Cas would talk about his time with Dean and their adventures they knew enough not to ask for more than Cas was willing to tell.

The Winchester’s were more in the dark because Dean played his feelings close to his chest. The only one to know a bit more was his younger brother, Sam. Sam was graduating from high school this year and planned to start at Stanford in the fall on a full ride with the intention of going into Law. He knew his brother well enough to know his tells. He never had any of the hang-ups the older generation did and accepted Dean for who he was. Love is love, and whatever made Dean happy was his opinion and nobody could tell or persuade him any different.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam wasn’t at all surprised when, in March, Dean and Cas called together to talk to the family and ask them to stay two weeks longer after graduation. The couple took the plunge with Dean’s family first telling them about the engagement and a small ceremony on the 28th of June for family only. The phone call was mildly tense, mostly because of the new information and being kept in the dark for so long. They also realized they were dealing with their oldest boy, who had always been taciturn when it came to talking about emotions. By the next week though, all three of Dean’s immediate family, his uncle, who was his Dad’s partner in the automotive garage, his wife, and daughter all agreed to stay through the end of June. Sam took it all in stride and was happy to have some extra time to look at the campus and prepare for his own move later in the summer.

The phone call with Cas’ family went a bit more celebratory. Even though they were meeting Dean through a computer screen, none was surprised at the request to stay longer and be a part of the wedding. Michael, Hannah, and Gabe were home at the time of the call and the fiancés heard them talking about who won the bet that it was with Dean that Cas was in a relationship with. When Cas’ parents offered them money for the ceremony, they turned it down saying they had everything handled. What they did do was allow them to buy a meal at a nice, but not too nice, restaurant for both families.

The list for the wedding slowly got crossed off too. They found their location early in the year, one of the rooms at Unitarian Universalist Church of Palo Alto that would hold only a dozen or so people. They rented their tuxes, bought boutonnières from the florist to be picked up before the ceremony, asked Gabe and Sam to be their best men, secured an officiant for the ceremony, decided on the order of service, and started a playlist for the wedding and wedding dances. They also chose to use traditional vows because they knew they wouldn’t be able to come up with their own with all the other stress on them. As for a bachelor party, neither was really interested, but they did plan on a rehearsal dinner and reception. After much discussion they let Cas’ parents pay for it. The Novaks also took care of gifting the church a donation in lieu of the usual wedding rental fee. The couple was okay with that because Unity did good works throughout the community and was interfaith. They knew the money would be used wisely.

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The day of graduation seemed like just one of many. As each dressed the other in their suits the fiancés took a bit of extra time to kiss and explore each other’s bodies. The school work was finally completed and they would graduate today. Then it was time to turn their attention to the highly anticipated wedding. Same-sex marriage had just been passed and they were taking advantage of California’s new lar. Once the afterglow had passed, they straightened their suits, took their robes and drove to the event location. Putting on their robes, it struck the men that they had made it over one hurdle together despite so many obstacles. They would meet their families after the event was over for a quiet individual get-together.

The time between graduation and the wedding flew by. The night of the rehearsal was the first time the families really had time to talk to each other. The Novak’s were very relaxed and knew that eventually this day would come. Their son would find the love of his life and marry him. They were jovial all evening and Gabrial was the proud older brother, very happy to be standing up with Cas. Becky and Chuck, Cas’ parents, were chatterboxes at the table over their excitement for the next day.

The Winchester family was more reserved, they had resolved that their son was not heterosexual or even asexual, but gay and had found the man he wanted to spend his life with. While they didn’t show it as much on the outside, they loved Dean very much and wanted him to be happy. If that was with Cas, then so be it. They would accept the marriage with graciousness and make a point to get to know Dean’s love and the Novaks. Sam was just like Gabrial, proud as he could be to be showing his support for his older brother by standing with him.

The official, a minister from the Unitarian Universalist Church, called the evening to order and the rehearsal went smoothing and quickly. The family was seated, Dean and Cas walked down the aisle together, the order of service was recited. Dean and Cas used the same rings that were their engagement rings. The minister said she would pronounce them married, the traditional kiss and recession. There wouldn’t be a reception, just the families going out for a joint dinner and then meeting at a bar for socializing so Dean and Cas could leave when they wanted. After the rehearsal, they all retired to Vaso Azzuro, a top Italian restaurant in Palo Alto, for dinner. It had a romantic vibe and since it was a beautiful night they chose to eat outside. Soon enough it was time to end the night with the expectation of a busy wedding day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cas and Dean’s wedding day was a clear, sunny day with wispy clouds. The kind of day that is dreamed about. Not too hot, nor too much humidity. It seemed like a dream. While there were the expected nerves, both men got ready at home and helped each other into their tuxes, with sensual touches, kisses and promises of the night to come. They met their family at the Universalist Church at ten in the morning for an eleven am wedding. The boutonnières were put on the men by their mothers, the best men, fathers and uncle Bobby by Dean and Cas. The men also gave hand corsages to their mothers, aunt Ellen and cousin Jo.

They received words of encouragement from their family and tears from everyone. Anyone who tried to deny the validity of the love in the room was gone as soon as they saw the love shine from both men’s eyes at each other. The minister said it was time for the family to take their place. Cas’ family on one side and Dean’s on the other. There were only a dozen people in the room total, but at the end of the day, the men would still be as married as those that spent tens of thousands of dollars on their wedding day.

The men walked into a portion of ‘Open Arms’ by Journey, then the minister began the traditional Universalist marriage ceremony. After the commitment and blessings were finished, the readings were said, one by Gabe and the other by Jo. The vows were then recited, rings exchanged to the left ring finger, and the unity ceremony completed. Dean and Cas signed the marriage register, received a blessing from the minister and she pronounced their marriage by her vested power by the Church and the State of California. She asked them to seal their vows with a kiss and both men brought their hands up to gently cradle each other’s jaws to put everything they felt on this day into the soft, loving sensuous kiss. Dean reached around to put one hand on the back of Cas’ neck to feel the curls at the top of his shirt collar and pull him in closer, making the kiss deeper.

Closing words were said and she pronounced Dean and Cas for the first time as Mr. and Mr. Dean and Castiel Novak-Winchester at 11:20am. It was a simple, but traditional ceremony. There really wasn’t a recession, but they enjoyed listening to their chosen recessional song, ‘At Last’ by Etta James. Since there were only a dozen in the room, when the newly married couple greeted their family they took the opportunity to dance to this vintage love song. There wasn’t an inch between them as they kissed, held each other, and enjoyed finally being each other’s forever.

Once the marriage license was signed and witnessed it was time to retire to each family’s place in the city before gathering for a late lunch to celebrate the wedding. This time everyone had changed into more comfortable, but still business casual, clothing for a late lunch at and socializing at Off the Rail Brewing. They had booked a private room so the families could really finally spend time together, eat and drink in a more relaxed atmosphere, but also let Dean and Cas leave when they felt ready.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a couple of beers, thoroughly fulfilling dinner, and a couple of hours of conversation and laughter with their families The newly married men retired back to their home for their own celebration. They had spent much of their money on the “stuff” that went along with the verbal ceremony. It hadn’t left much for their evening at their apartment. But they had candles in their bedroom, clean sheets, an inviting bed, and most of all each other.

Slowly, they undressed and hung the rented tuxes. Each took in the other’s bodies as they stood looking at each other like they were newborns. After sensual touches, open mouth kisses and nibbles on the mouth, neck, shoulders, and collarbones, it was determined that instead of physical sex what they most craved is to lay spooned up, soaking in each other’s love. They got under the comforter, enjoyed the flickering candles with the curtains drawn to keep out the afternoon sun. Cas was the big spoon and pulled Dean close to him, draped a leg between Dean’s knees, kissed the nape of his neck, and they held each other’s arms on his waist. It wasn’t long until they both promptly fell asleep feeling complete in a way they hadn’t before.

When they awoke a couple of hours later Dean felt rutting against his cheeks. Their lust hadn’t been put out, just dampened by the activity of the day. The candles were still burning and Dean turned over to kiss Cas, pulled him closer by a hand at the small of his back. The buzzing in Dean’s but meant one thing, he needed Cas. He needed to feel his body, to feel them together. Precome was already gathering at the slits of both their hard members. Dean was ready to take one step further, he took the precome and slid it around both of their shafts and took them together in one hand. Cas gently added his hand to Dean’s and they started to pleasure each other, together this time. They kissed every part they could reach of the other as they built to a mutual climax and spilled over both of their hands with moans of pleasure.

They took a shower together to clean up. They enjoyed taking time to soap each inch of the other up and rinsing the sandalwood smelling body wash off. Dean started washing Cas’ hair with his clean smelling shampoo. Cas’ reciprocated and slow kisses and compassionate touches were exchanged until the water turned cool. They weren’t ready for a round two, but craved each other’s company. After drying off they decided to eat leftovers for supper and spend the rest of the night curled up with nothing they had to do for hours.

Cas murmured to Dean, “I can’t believe this day finally came. I am so exhausted, but I am so in love with you that even I can’t find the words.” Something Dean would tease him with in the years to come. The wordsmith couldn’t find the words to describe his own feelings on his wedding day.

Dean laughed softly in response, “Welcome to my world sunshine. I love you with everything I have.”

It was the first time since they decided to marry on New Year’s that they had completely free time for an evening. Soon enough the real world would come barreling back in like a Nebraska thunderstorm. But for one night, they relished being married and alone.

#writing #destiel #ao3 #au story #my writing #fic writing

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ormakeasaintofme · 4 years ago

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hm. started thinking abt s8 and that was fun until i remembered the show never actually gave us the scene i used to constantly write and rewrite in my head involving sam finally sitting dean down and being like dean i thought you were dead and the last time you died i spent months getting myself addicted to demon blood bc i get such insane blinders on when i’m worried about you that that seemed like a logical idea, and this time i didn’t even know where you were, fuck yes i tried to get out of the life, based on our track record and mine in particular the alternative was finding yet another apocalypse to accidentally start

so now i’m just annoyed at canon for never letting sam actually explain that

#spn #sam #s8 #mine.txt #to be clear i don’t dislike sam #i’m on his side here!#i think he was 100% making a reasonable semi-healthy choice not looking for dean after s7 #and i dont like #blame him? for the first apocalypse?#there were lots of factors blah blah blah even setting aide the question of chuck and whatnot #but s8 sam had SO many guilt issues #and both not-looking for dean & the previous results of looking for dean are both high on the list #so i v much wanted canon to like #address that #preferably by letting sam spell it out for the audience and also dean #and then in an ideal world by letting them actually discuss that a little #before dean finally admitted that yeah okay that makes sense and tbh now that cas is out it doesn’t really matter anyway #sorry for being an asshole it’s all good #but like. skip the discussion and condense the explanation if you must just let it HAPPEN #still don’t have a good handle on the samgirl vs deangirl dynamics these days but back when i was in spn fandom #if someone liked sam best they probably resented dean but if someone liked dean best they definitely loved sam too #and as usual i am a deangirl (gender neutral) still stuck in 2013

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muffinbeliever · 3 years ago

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When the Stars Align [08]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Soulmate!Reader

Word Count: 5801

Warnings: language, angst, sexual content, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), ANGST, lots of crying, theres dom/sub vibes if you squint, did i mention angst?

Summary: Soulmate!AU– Everyone has the first words their soulmate says to them tattooed on their wrists. You and your cat are living a normal life in Fort Collins, Colorado when three men come bursting through your door, completely changing your life. Reader-insert story. Starts around S06E08, but Sam has his soul, and it doesn’t really follow the series from there

A/N: APOLOGIES ! i have been absolutely swamped with work and exams. i wrote an extra long chapter full of angsty tears because you know i live for angst. i am so sorry for my irregular postings i'm trying to work on it.

Masterlist | When the Stars Align Masterlist

You snuggled closer to the object in your arms, eyebrows furrowing when you realized it was a pillow and not Dean’s bare chest. Despite last night’s unhappiness with your soulmate, you couldn’t deny that you loved waking up with him. Too tired to open your eyes, you patted your hand around the other side of the bed, frowning when cool sheets met your touch. You groaned and cracked your eyes open, squinting them not only because of the puffiness from crying but also from the bright beams of light streaming through your window.

The door opened slowly, and Dean peeked into the room, his wet hair indicating he just showered. When he saw you were awake, he gave you a tentative smile, unsure of how you would react.

You couldn’t ignore the feelings of hurt from last night, but you knew you were being irrational. Besides, you didn’t know how long he was going to stay for, and you didn’t want to ruin your time together. You could be mad at him later. You returned with an equally tentative smile and watched his face relax.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he said, his voice as smooth as honey.

“Good morning,” you responded sweetly, patting the bed next to you, wanting to be close to him. He happily obliged, the scent of his cologne filling your nose. The bed dipped beneath his weight and you curled into his side. Silence fell between the two of you, and you debated your next words.

“Bean,” you started, and he hummed in reply. “I’m sorry about last night. I overreacted and I know that it wasn’t your fault; it wasn’t anyone’s fault. It just is what it is.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest, nervous that bringing last night up would result in another argument. Dean’s large hand rubbed across your back, and you relaxed under his touch.

“You didn’t overreact,” he murmured into your hair. “I shouldn’t have sprung it on you so suddenly. I wanted to tell you, I just didn’t know how to find the words or even start that conversation. I’m sorry for ruining our date.”

You leaned your head up, his worried expression filling your gaze. Your heart was no longer pounding; instead, it tightened at Dean’s pain.

“Last night may not have ended in a way that we both wanted it to, but by no means did you ruin our date, Dean. I’ve never been out like that before and it was amazing. There isn’t anyone else that I would want to do that with,” you reassured him, hoping your affectionate words wouldn’t scare him away. A hint of a smile danced on his lips before he leaned down, capturing you in a bruising kiss. And God, this man could kiss.

His hand stopped it’s soothing rubs against your back and instead travelled further south, gripping your ass. His tongue was wonderfully playing with yours, his soft lips like pillows. You ran your hands through his slightly dampened hair as he shifted under you, rearranging so that you were straddling him. You could feel how hard he was under his jeans, and you took the opportunity to press against him, slowly grinding your hips, eliciting a noise from Dean that shot straight to your core. He flipped you over expertly, taking control of the situation. His hands were exploring your body, rolling your pebbled nipples with his thumb and forefinger. You shamelessly moaned as he trailed kisses down the side of your neck, nipping at special spots that made you cry out.

You tugged at his shirt and as he tore it off in a hurry, you quickly unbuckled his belt in a swift movement. He slipped off the t-shirt that donned your body, immediately pressing open kisses on your chest as his fingers danced at the waistband of your underwear. You arched your back, a silent gesture of want.

“Patience, baby,” he breathed against your lips, and you couldn’t help the whine that escaped you. He chuckled darkly, and you gazed into his eyes, his pupils blown wide with lust.

“Please,” you whispered, pathetically. Dean smirked.

“Please what, sweetheart? Use your words,” he commanded lowly, and you could feel yourself getting impossibly wetter. He looked down at you, drinking in the sight of your almost-naked body that was writhing with want.

“Please touch me,” you whined.

“Touch you like this?” he asked with false innocence as his fingers grazed your rib cage, his light touches making their way up your body, kneading your breasts. You let out a struggled moan, frustrated with his teasing.

“Or should I touch you like this?” he whispered hotly into your ear, and before the words could fully register in your mind, his fingers dipped below your underwear and into your wet heat. You moaned loudly as thumb lightly circled your clit while his fingers pumped inside you.

“Good girl,” he murmured, and his lips were on you in an instant. You could barely think; how could someone be so good with their fingers? The room was filled with your breathy moans and the slick sound of Dean’s fingers in you. You felt your climax approaching, and Dean could feel it too. Suddenly, his fingers were gone as was the light pressure on your bundle of nerves. You whined at the sudden loss of contact.

“When you cum, sweetheart, I want it to be on my cock,” he said roughly and your eyes rolled back in ecstasy as he buried himself in your tightness until he was fully unsheathed. It only took a couple of well-placed thrusts before you were seeing stars, incoherently rambling as he worked you through your orgasm. The snapping of his hips was relentless, and by the time you had come back down from your high, there were only a few seconds before you could feel the pressure building inside you again.

“One more, sweetheart, I know you can do it for me,” he encouraged, and you shook your head, tears forming from the overstimulation of his fingers rubbing your clit and the fullness of his cock. He muttered praises in your ear as you came again, and his thrusts became sloppy as he drove himself over the edge. Spent, he collapsed on top of you, the comforting weight of his body caging you in against the bed.

The two of you laid there for a minute, catching your breath and allowing for your heart to stop racing. Dean pressed a light kiss to your neck before he rolled onto his back next to you. A glance at the clock told you that you had a little over an hour before you had to leave for work. You looked to your right and found Dean already looking at you, a twinkle in his tired eyes.

“Are you alright?” he asked gently, and you nodded with a smile on your face.

“I wasn’t too rough was I?” There was slight apprehension in his voice. You placed a hand on his cheek and your heart fluttered when he nuzzled closer into your palm.

“I like it a little rough,” you admitted with a blush. He flashed you a wide smile and leaned in to kiss you.

“You’re going to be the death of me, woman,” he muttered against your lips and you giggled. He pressed a firm kiss to your lips before pulling away, getting off the bed in search of his boxers.

“Why don’t you go shower and I’ll cook us some grub?” he offered and your heart warmed at the gesture.

“Only if you make bacon,” you teased and he gasped dramatically, his hand clutching his chest.

“As if I would make anything else,” he retorted and you rolled your eyes playfully. You hopped off the bed and walked to the bathroom, uncaring that you were naked. You debated on taking a shower but instead threw your hair into a bun and opted for a hot bath, as your legs were still a little wobbly from your previous activities.

You hissed as the water made contact with your sensitive skin, but soon you were fully emerged, your muscles relaxing into the warmth. Leaning your head back, you sunk deeper into the tub, letting your eyes close. There was a slight clatter of pots and pans coming from the kitchen and you heard Dean quietly curse followed by the tapping of Meatball’s claws against the hardwood floor. You chuckled, envisioning a spooked Dean accidentally stepping on Meatball’s tail and an equally frightened Meatball scampering away. You laid there for a while, the exact time, you were unsure, but you guessed about fifteen minutes if the light pruning of your skin was any indication. Despite how comfortable it was, you didn’t want to keep Dean waiting. You quickly washed yourself before climbing out of the tub.

The tub quietly drained as you brushed your teeth, and you observed your reflection. Despite your tears from the night before, your face wasn’t puffy and your eyes shined brightly. You put on lotion before making your way to your bedroom. You pulled on a soft pair of leggings and a worn sweatshirt. You threw your towel into the hamper and glanced around your room, a smile quirking on your lips when you realized that Dean had already made the bed.

You wandered into the kitchen, a full pot of coffee sitting on the counter as well as a plate of eggs and pancakes. Dean was at the stove finishing up the bacon when he turned to you and winked.

Breakfast was a quiet affair, a comfortable silence falling over the two of you. When Dean grabbed your empty plate and made his way over to the sink, you protested but he silenced you with a look.

“You gotta get to work. I’ll clean these up,” he said and you sighed, knowing he was right.

“I’ll cook dinner then,” you compromised and he smiled at you. You gathered your purse and keys and Dean kissed you on the forehead along with a whispered promise to see you later. Meatball was sitting by the front door, his tail swishing with slight irritation and you frowned, knowing he was probably jealous from the lack of attention. You picked him up in your arms and brushed your hand over his soft fur. It took several seconds, but soon Meatball’s purrs filled the air and you placed a gentle kiss to the top of his head before setting him back down.

The bookstore was quiet and fairly empty, but you weren’t surprised. As the weather grew colder, people normally stopped coming in as frequently. Only at the peak of Christmas shopping did you see a lot of your customers in the winter. It was a day filled with stocking books and shared giggles with Thomas. The atmosphere between the two of you was back to normal, something you were grateful for. You didn’t want to lose Thomas as a friend. You were still full from the breakfast Dean had made, so by the time lunch had come around, you decided to go home for a little bit rather than eat.

You walked into your house, Dean’s voice echoing from the kitchen. He was on the phone. You weren’t sure who he was talking to, but he didn’t sound very happy. You couldn’t make out the words he was saying other than the occasional “son of a bitch”. The call ended when Dean sighed and said, “Alright Sammy, I’ll see you later.”

The kitchen was silent after that, and there was a sinking feeling in your chest. You knew that he wouldn’t be staying for much longer. Were you going with him? Did he want you to go with him? Are you guys together? This wasn’t a one-and-done type of thing was it?

“I thought I heard you walk in,” Dean’s voice came and you jumped. So lost in your thoughts, you had failed to notice him leaning in the doorway of the kitchen, a small smirk on his lips. He pushed off the wall and walked over to you, cupping your face in his hands and placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

“If I had known you were stopping by, I would’ve made lunch,” he said, his eyes held mild concern and there was a slight frown when he noticed that you were drowning in thoughts.

“Sweetheart,” he said, and you shook your head, eyes filled with tears.

“You’re leaving?” You whispered, and his face fell. There were word lines on his face and his eyebrows furrowed. The small part of you that hoped he would bring you with him was crushed, and you understood that he was leaving you behind, again. He pulled you into his arms and rested his chin on the top of your head.

“Y/N, you know why I can’t take you with me, right?” His voice was thick, and there was a sharp pain in your chest when you realized that he too was holding back tears. You were tired of arguing with him. You were tired of the tears and the angst. You just wanted him.

“Be careful,” you whispered, defeated. You could tell he was taken aback, probably expecting you to fight. You stepped away, wiping the tears from your face.

“Be careful, Bean. I’ll be here when you get back,” you said with a sad smile. Because it was true: you’d spend forever waiting for him if you had to.

“I—,” he paused, before shaking his head, clearing his eyes of tears, “I’ll come back for you.” He promised, and you giggled while tears streamed down your face, your mind was a whirlwind of emotions. He wiped the tears from your cheeks and gave you a deep kiss.

Kisses with Dean weren’t unusual, but they were nothing like this. This kiss was filled with emotions left unexpressed and words left unsaid. It was filled with the missed time between the two of you and hope for the future. You weren’t sure when you would see him next, but you were sure that you would remember this kiss for the rest of your life. It was the perfect goodbye kiss, and that is what made it so hard.

He left soon after, not needing to pack anything, as he didn’t have much with him in the first place. With teary eyes, you watched the Impala’s tail lights until they reached the end of your street, turning left and out of sight.

While the reassurance of him returning comforted you, it didn’t keep the tears from escaping your eyes and the sinking feeling in your chest. Deciding to take the rest of the day off, you shot Thomas a quick text telling him that you wouldn’t be returning from your lunch break. Instead, you turned the TV on and cuddled with Meatball on the couch, seeking comfort in your feline companion. If you didn’t know any better, you would think that Meatball also missed the green-eyed hunter, as he kept staring at the door as if expecting Dean to walk through.

Time quickly passed and before you knew it, the sun had set and Meatball was meowing for dinner. You quickly began to regret not fighting Dean more, at least asking him to stay for one more night. But he left in such a rush, you didn’t want to be selfish and keep him to yourself when there could be someone out there whose life depended on him.

The events of the day left you without an appetite, so you filled Meatball’s bowl before retreating to your room. Your eyes fell on the dark henley that was laid out on the bed, and you smiled at the kind gesture. As if on cue, your phone rang and you giggled when you saw a goofy selfie of Dean fill your screen along with his contact name “Batman”.

“I wasn’t aware I had the hero of Gotham’s phone number,” you answered, teasingly.

“Not just Gotham, sweetheart,” came Dean’s low voice and your heart pounded in your chest. How was it possible for you to get this excited over a phone call?

“When did give me your number?” You asked, and Dean chuckled.

“This morning while you were knocked out. It was quite a sight; I took a couple of pictures to commemorate the moment,” he said, and you scrolled through your photos, immediately finding several photos of you sleeping, your mouth wide open and your hair sprawled everywhere. There were a couple of you by yourself but others were with Dean, him making silly faces as you slept.

“Creep,” you joked.

“I can’t help that you’re adorable while you sleep,” came his smooth reply.

“Did you see my gift?” He asked, changing the subject. You nodded before remembering that he couldn’t see you over the phone.

“Yeah, I found it right before you called,” you said, picking up said gift and holding it to your nose. You inhaled deeply, taking in the familiar scent of cologne, leather, and whiskey. For the next couple of hours, the two of you talked about everything under the sun, enjoying each other’s company. You found out that he was a few hours outside of Sioux Falls, and that the normally almost 10 hour drive was dramatically shorter due to the Dean’s speeding. After lightly scolding him about his disregard for his safety, you proposed that he take a plane if he wanted a shorter trip, but he confessed his fear of flying.

It was nearly midnight by the time the conversation lulled, and you were laying comfortably on your bed in Dean’s henley. It was a comfortable silence filled with Dean’s deep breathing and the purr of the Impala’s engine, and you quickly drifted off to sleep.

The next few weeks passed by fairly quickly. Although you missed Dean’s presence, he made up for it with daily calls and endless texts. Every morning, you would wake up to a sweet text from Dean wishing you a good day. The two of you were faring well considering the distance. He would keep you updated on his hunts, as well as Sam’s wellbeing.

You were happy again, Thomas noted as he observed the smile that always graced your face whenever you were talking to Dean. Despite his lingering feelings for you, Thomas truly wanted you to be happy, even if that wasn’t with him.

However, there were some nights that left you feeling empty and those nights were the hardest. You muted your microphone and cried yourself to sleep, not wanting to cause Dean any pain. As the time apart grew, so did the frequency of those terrible nights.

Nearly three months after Dean had left, you were slowly starting to unravel. You began to isolate yourself again, turning down lunches with Thomas and opted to stay in your house when you weren’t at work. You often spent your weekends staring at a blank wall thinking about Dean for hours on end.

You were unsure if it was your imagination running wild or not, but you could’ve sworn that your soulmate was getting more and more distant. Your nighttime calls were getting shorter, often ending before you had fallen asleep, and Dean’s voice seemed to be sharper. You rationalized in your head that he was particularly stressed about this case and that once it was over you would have your goofy partner back.

When you woke up one morning without a text from Dean, you knew that your suspicions were correct. He was pulling away. You wished him a good morning and waited all day for a response that never came. Maybe he was just busy?

At 9:57 PM, your phone rang loudly, startling you from your trance. Your eyebrows furrowed as you saw “Batman” flash on the screen and your heart leaped out of your chest, a wave of excitement but also anger rushing over you.

“Where have you been?” You immediately asked when you answered, not even allowing him to greet you. Your voice was icy, upset with the way you were shut out all day, and Dean knew that he was in trouble.

“Y/N,” he started, his voice defeated, and you knew something was very wrong. There was a deep sigh before he continued.

“Sweetheart, I have to go away for a couple of days and I won’t be able to contact you,” he said and a million questions raced through your mind, but the most prominent of all: why? Conflicted with where to even begin, you let out a shaky breath that you weren’t aware you were holding in.

“Where are you going?” You asked weakly.

“I just gotta finish this case, and I’ll be back before you know it,” he rushed out. You opened your mouth to speak again, but Dean hastily cut you off.

“I gotta leave now, but I’ll see you soon,” he paused, “I’m sorry.”

“De—,” you called out, but it was too late. He had hung up on you. Furious, you tried calling his phone, only for it to go straight to voicemail.

“Dean Winchester, you will answer the phone right now and explain what is going on,” you demanded, before texting him variations of the same command. You tried calling Sam, but much to your anguish, his phone also went straight to voicemail.

“What the fuck,” you muttered, wringing your hands as you tried to figure out a way to contact the brothers. There was no way for you to track them, and you didn’t even know Bobby’s last name, only that he lived in Sioux Falls. You got on your knees and prayed to Castiel, begging for his help, but when there was no flutter of wings nor a handsome man wearing a trench coat in your home, you did the only thing you could do. You cried.

You thought it had hurt when Dean left the first time, but it was nothing compared to the pain you had felt now. This time, you had a glimpse of happiness, a peek into what your future could have held. A future with pancakes and forehead kisses, late nights in bed and early mornings curled around him. You had gotten used to his witty comments and snarky replies, his teasing and affectionate nature. You had finally began to see yourself being happy for the rest of your life with this man, only for it to be taken away, and you hadn’t the slightest clue why.

A day passed without any contact from the brothers despite the numerous calls, texts, and prayers you had sent. You had no idea where Dean was, how long he would be, or if he would even come back. For all you knew, he could’ve just left you, deciding that he could no longer do long distance. Unable to bare being alone in your lonely house anymore, you drove to Thomas’ apartment.

You knocked heavily on his door and noted the look of surprise in his brown eyes, before Thomas recognized your tear-stained face and disheveled look.

“What did he do this time?” Thomas growled, as he stepped aside to let you in. Not in the mood to talk, you merely shook your head as you felt tears welling in your eyes again. Thomas pulled you into a protective hug, and as much as you wanted to find comfort in the embrace, you were disappointed when the smell of lemons and fresh laundry hit you instead of cologne, whiskey, and leather.

Thomas pulled away once you quieted down, dragging you to the couch and insisting that you stayed there while he made you a cup of tea. You glanced around the room, taking in slight differences since the last time you were here. There was an unfamiliar jacket resting on the back of a chair as well as a pair of shoes by the door that you’d never seen before. When a shirtless man walked out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel, you remembered Thomas mentioning a few months back that his brother was staying with him for the foreseeable future.

Thomas’ brother, you had forgotten his name, swept his dark eyes over the living room, spotting you on the couch.

“It’s about time Tommy found a girl,” he remarked with a smirk. Something about him made the hair on the back of your neck stand up and sent shivers down your spine. Thomas had briefly told you that they don’t really get along, but that he still wanted to help his brother out. You shook your head, clearing your mind of thoughts.

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N,” you introduced, “I work with Thomas at the bookstore. We’re just friends.” You clarified and noted the man’s eyebrows raise.

“Just friends, huh? I would’ve thought Tommy would mention working with such a beautiful woman,” he drawled before sticking out his hand.

“Dylan,” he said firmly and you looked warily at his hand before shaking it, very much aware that he was practically naked in front of you. Luckily, Thomas stepped into the room, a cup of peppermint tea in his hands.

“Dyl, go put on some clothes,” Thomas instructed, before looking back at you, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Dylan rolled his eyes and sauntered out of the room.

“Sorry about him,” Thomas said. Not wanting to cause any trouble between the brothers, you shrugged lightly before taking the tea.

“What’s wrong?” He kindly inquired, sitting next to you on the couch. You took a sip of your tea before setting it down, letting out a shaky breath. You spent the next hour explaining what had happened with Dean: how he had to leave suddenly for work and the past several months with the phone calls and texts, leaving out the more intimate details. You then told him about Dean’s changing moods and the strange phone call. You told him that you had tried many times to contact him, not mentioning Castiel, and how broken you felt without Dean by your side.

You were a crying again by the time you had finished, reduced to a bumbling mess, unattractively wiping your face with the sleeve of Dean’s henley that you wore for the past two days. It had long lost its scent, but knowing it was his still brought you a shred of comfort.

Thomas cooked your favorite pasta, and Dylan joined the two of you at the table for dinner. Hoping to get your mind off of Dean, you got to know Dylan more, asking questions about his career and his life in Fort Collins. You learned that Dylan was a problem child and he was at boarding schools for most of his life. He dropped out of college early on, much to his parents’ disappointment. He had gotten in trouble with the law for petty theft as well as drunk driving. He was now staying with Thomas as he worked at the mechanic, fixing cars and saving money until he could get a place of his own. Despite your initial impression of the man, you had learned that outside of his snarky demeanor, he was actually quite a decent guy. Him and Thomas weren’t very close as a result of Dylan being five years older and not around for the majority of Thomas’ childhood.

As the pasta disappeared along with two bottles of wine, the three of you delved into deeper topics. You learned that Dylan hadn’t met his soulmate yet and he was afraid he never would. He had a long history with women, and Thomas pegged him as a one-night-stand type of guy. You told him about Dean and the rollercoaster that was your relationship. You successfully avoided questions that directly asked about Dean’s job and the details of his life. It was nearly midnight when your phone rang.

You sucked in a breath, your heart pounding when you saw Sam’s name on the screen. Why was he calling you, after all this time? Why didn’t Dean call you first? Did something happen? You quickly excused yourself from the table, rushing into the living room before answering. “Sam?” You said, shakily.

“Hey Y/N,” came Sam’s tired voice.

“What’s going on? Where’s Dean?” You demanded, furious at your soulmate and his brother for leaving you without a clue as to what was going on.

“Dean didn’t tell you?” Sam asked, his voice twinged with confusion.

“Tell me what?” You asked, your heart racing at the endless possibilities running through your mind. However, none of them was remotely close to what Sam revealed.

“Lisa and Ben,” he said, and you flinched at the woman’s name, “they were kidnapped.”

“Kidnapped? By who?” You asked incredulously. Sam began explaining how demons came after them and how Ben had called Dean. You didn’t mean to, but you tuned out the younger Winchester, caught up in your own thoughts.

Did Lisa tell Ben to call Dean? Is this why he left? Did he have unresolved feelings for this woman? You collapsed onto the couch. You couldn’t cry anymore even if you had tried. No longer buzzed from the wine, you processed everything that Sam had told you, anger rising in your chest.

“Where is he?” You asked, not caring that you had cut Sam off. He sighed before answering.

“The hospital.” The hospital? Why on Earth was he in the hospital?

“He’s not in the hospital, he’s at the hospital. He’s uh… he’s taking care of some things,” Sam said, and you didn’t even realize that you were thinking out loud.

“I see,” you clipped. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Lisa and her son were the unmentioned things and that Dean still deeply cared about them.

“Y/N,” Sam said, “I’m so sorry; I thought you knew. Dean said he took care of everything.” You scoffed.

“He told me that he was leaving and that he would be coming back later,” you said coldly. You took pity on Sam, the tall man always kind towards you and it wasn’t his fault his brother was an idiot.

“Tell him I am expecting a call when he’s done with those… things,” you said before hanging up. You resisted the urge to hurl your phone at the front door, and instead screamed into a couch pillow before rejoining Thomas and Dylan in the kitchen. Thomas took one look at your face and pulled out the whiskey and three glasses.

You winced at the harsh burn as the alcohol entered your body, throwing back glass after glass in hopes of numbing the ebbing pain in your heart. He didn’t want you. He wanted her. He left you so he could be with her. You should’ve known he wasn’t over her, with the way he kept hiding things from you, how he hid their relationship until recently.

It wasn’t long before you were a drunken mess, Thomas insisting that you sleep on the couch as you were in no state to go home. You barely protested, knowing that you would rather be with Thomas in his apartment than in your house by yourself, sleeping in a bed that you and Dean used to sleep in.

A loud ringing from your phone woke you up. A pounding headache and an achey back signaled that you were hungover and on the couch. You didn’t remember passing out, nor did you remember Thomas bidding you a goodnight. You squinted your eyes at the clock on the wall, wondering who would be calling at three in the morning.

You scrambled off the couch as your phone continued to ring, seeing Dean’s face on your screen in that stupid silly picture he took that you hated to admit you loved. Wanting nothing more than to scream at your soulmate, you unlocked the door and crept outside, not wanting to wake up the whole apartment with your yelling.

“How convenient of you to call,” you said cooly when you answered.

“Sweetheart, I—,” Dean started before you cut him off.

“Don’t sweetheart me, Dean. Do you know how worried I was? How confused I was? You suddenly up and left me without a single explanation, and I have to find out from your brother two days later that you were saving your ex-girlfriend? You were in such a rush that you couldn’t explain it over a text or a voicemail?

“God, I cannot believe that you did that! Why did you keep this from me? Do you still have feelings for her? You asshole, you said you didn’t love her!” You screamed, absolutely done with the whole situation.

“What’s next? You’re going to apologize and tell me that she meant nothing, and that you only want me, but the next time another girlfriend of yours goes missing, you’ll be leaving again, without a single word?” You were out of breath now, your chest heaving. The other end was silent, before Dean spoke again.

“It wasn’t like that. I was trying to protect you,” he reasoned and you exploded again.

“Protect me? You keep saying that but all you do is leave me and hurt me. Don’t lie to me Dean, you were trying to protect her and her precious son,” you said venomously.

“You know what Dean? I’m done. Go be with Lisa and that kid. Go live out that perfect life that you had tried to before,” you said, suddenly exhausted. You couldn’t keep doing this. You couldn’t keep fighting with him.

“Sweetheart, I know you’re upset,” he started, “Hell, Sam punched me when he found out you didn’t know. I don’t know why I didn’t tell you, I guess I didn’t want you to worry, but God I’m so stupid. I promise I’m done with Lisa. I had Cas remove their memories of me, so they can live a normal life away from all of this stupid supernatural bullshit. I don’t want her, Y/N. I want you.”

“No, Dean. You don’t get me. Don’t you understand? You chose her. She may not have any memories of you but you sure do have memories of her and the year you spent together. The year you played family. How dare you even be jealous of Thomas, when you’re with her?” You were tired. It was cold.

“I’m done, Dean,” you whispered defeatedly into the phone. “Please don’t call or visit. I don’t want to see you.”

“Sweeth—,” you hung up before he could even get the word out. Bubbling over with anger, you threw your phone to the ground and watched it shatter into tiny pieces. You rushed back inside, throwing yourself on the couch and sobbed until the sun rose.

Taglist: @akshi8278 @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @lanea-1 @slamminmine

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester x soulmate!reader #dean winchester x y/n #reader x dean winchester #reader x dean #y/n x dean winchester #y/n x dean #dean winchester angst #dean angst #dean winchester fluff #dean fluff #supernatural #supernatural series #muffinbeliever

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bookishofalder · 3 years ago

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Saviours Coffee House [Prologue]

Summary: Negan hires a new manager.

Warnings: Language! We’re starting off tame, but get ready because future parts get dark. WC—+2.7k.

A/N: Even if you aren’t a The Walking Dead fan, you might like this story—it’s a coffee shop A/U, I really only take the characters from TWD!

Now

Your eyes were only on Negan as he stalked forward, his normally bright eyes dark with fury as he clenched the baseball bat in his hands. You’d never seen him so angry...you’d never seen anyone so angry. Apprehension coiled in your gut, your mind blank, a doe caught in the headlights. You knew you had to move, to stop him—but part of you almost didn’t want to.

It was the part of you that had been beaten and broken over and over screaming for it to end. Screaming for you to let it happen.

And fuck, you wanted to listen to her.

Maybe you would.

—

Way Back

Negan Dean was sat at his desk, staring at the computer monitor in front of him without really seeing it. His mind had wandered away from the shop's accounting, the task he needed to complete. He had reason to be distracted, though, as he was in desperate need of a new manager, and he had a few interviews lined up that afternoon.

He’d put off rehiring for too long, left the manager position open and simply worked himself to the bone, running the place and leading it. But it had been months.

He’d needed to keep busy, after Lucille...no, he wasn’t thinking of her today. He needed to get the accounts sorted, have some lunch, and then start the interviews.

That was today’s game plan, and he was sticking to it. The extra work had finally caught up to him, as he knew it would. He was ready to step back because he was fucking exhausted and wanted to focus on his role as the owner of the Saviours Coffee House, behind the scenes. He needed a full-time manager to run the floor, someone smart and competent and good with people.

Simon had been on his ass for a while now about it, but he’d resolutely ignored his long-time friend, too stubborn for his own good. He knew Simon was right. But it was going to be on his fucking orders that a new person joined the tea—his family—even if it meant he’d fallen asleep in his office some nights, slumped over his desk in pure exhaustion.

Negan finished his task and stood, stretching out the kinks in his back, before making his way out onto the loft that overlooked most of the shop below. He had a few couches up here, and a little kitchenette next to his office, the area acting as a staff room in many ways; customers could not come up. At the opposite end of the loft, a door led up to the next floor, which was Negan’s condo. He’d bought the entire three-storey after the recession, gutted the whole thing and, working with a crew of mostly friends who had various trade jobs, renovated it entirely.

Negan was proud of Saviours Coffee House, a dream that he hadn’t always had come to life in the walls of what used to be an old, relatively small, textile factory. Now situated in the heart of downtown, it was the perfect spot for an edgy, laid-back place to unwind, meet friends, go on dates. Hell, Negan loved looking down and seeing a customer stay the whole day as they worked, even if they only bought one coffee. As far as he was concerned, the moment you spent a dime in his place, you were a customer for the day. And that had been a hit with many of the locals and students from the nearby university. Open five-thirty in the morning till eleven-thirty in the evening, Saviours welcomed all. So long as you kept your feet off the fucking tables and minded your manners.

In his former life, Negan worked as a high-ranking guard at the nearby penitentiary. It was a minimum-security, well-funded place where non-violent criminals ended up. He’d loved his years there, but after getting stabbed for the second time (the first was when he was young enough that he’d bounced back almost instantly) he decided to retire.

He sunk all of his savings into this dream, and years later had a lot to show for it. He’d also met a lot of down on their luck men in his time as a guard, so after Saviours became successful, he started a hiring program for white-collar criminals who completed a local, not-for-profit reintegration program. He only kept two on at a time, and most moved on after saving up enough.

Currently at the bar was Dwight, who’d been with Negan the longest now, having started just over a year before after getting out from serving time for drug possession. If Negan was proud of anything, it was Dwight. He’d seen the man evolve from a quiet asshole who barely grunted when customers paid, to a friendly bartender who mixed both amazing lattes and delicious cocktails, even if he grumbled about it. He was a fixture here now as much as Negan—and probably more well-liked, but Negan didn’t care about being liked. As long as people were happy, he was just fine.

It was the post-lunch lull now, so Dwight was wiping up the counters and switching the signs around from daytime menus to evening. Maggie, who had been working at Saviours for about two years, was wiping down the tables while Fleetwood Mac played over the expensive Bluetooth stereo system. He’d asked Maggie if she wanted the job, but she’d only laughed before telling him plainly that she had no desire to work full time or see him that much. He’d figured as much, seeing as she was in university, but he had wanted her to know it was hers if she did want it—she’d earned it.

Dwight was happy where he was, and didn’t want to upset the balance in life he’d worked so hard for, which Negan respected. His newest employee, also a convict hire, wasn’t up to scruff to become the manager, as much as he liked Paul, or ‘Jesus’, as everyone called him. He was a nice kid, worked hard, but seemed content working three part-time jobs. That had left Rosita and Tara, both part-time and students, and then Carol, part-time and not interested as she worked as a volunteer at the Children’s Hospital and didn’t want to give that up.

Which left him where he was now, stomping up the steps to his place to have a quick lunch before back-to-back interviews of promising contenders for a job he wished like hell he didn’t need to fill.

“Jesus. Fucking. Christ.” Negan slammed his hands onto the marble counter in frustration as Dwight watched him. He smirked as he tidied up the barista station.

“That bad, boss?” Dwight was shit at keeping the amusement off of his face. Negan scoffed, glancing behind him to ensure no customers were listening, but it was busy enough now with the after-class and work rush that the cacophony of voices and music allowed him to speak privately despite the location.

Negan held up one hand, holding his thumb and index finger a sliver apart. “I’ve got this much fucking patience left. Only one candidate wasn’t a god damned catfish and I didn’t like him,” He sighed, nodding gratefully when Dwight pointed to the espresso machine, knowing Negan needed his usual five o'clock pick-me-up. “I’ve got one last one; Daryl's friend. If she doesn’t fit, I’m going to have to beg Maggie—and you know she’ll love that too much to say yes.”

With a laugh, Dwight nodded in agreement, expertly moving about making Negan’s latte. “Carol seemed pretty sure you’d like her, said Daryl thinks of her like a little sister and when he heard you were looking for someone he was adamant she’d be perfect.”

Negan sighed, “Yeah, and I like Daryl so if this doesn’t work out and I have to start hating him I’m going to be real pissed off. Thanks, D.” He added when Dwight passed over the piping hot drink, still grinning at Negan’s displeasure.

Dwight dipped his head forward, eyes behind Negan, “I think that must be her, don’t recognize her and she’s dressed too nice for this place.” With that, he turned away and started loading dishes into one of the dishwashers. Negan turned, eyes scanning for the potential candidate, and he didn’t have to look far.

Because there you were, right out of a fucking dream.

Dwight had been right, you were dressed far too nicely for Saviours, but perfect for an interview (which instantly gave you points over a few of the previous interviewees). You were weaving by a few men who were standing at a high table and hadn’t yet noticed Negan, which allowed him to survey you.

The pretty green dress paired with a smart leather jacket and shiny kitten heels gave off an air of sophistication, accentuated your curves beautifully, and rendered his mind to mush for a brief moment. You wore your hair down, and it fell in elegant waves around your shoulders. Fuck, though, if you weren’t the prettiest woman he’d ever laid eyes on.

He thought Carol had mentioned you were in your mid-twenties, but you walked with more confidence about you than one usually saw in those formative years. Already impressed, Negan pushed himself away from the counter, stepped forward and smiled.

You looked around, his movement catching your eye, and returned the smile warmly as you approached. No doubt, you’d looked up their social media, seen pictures of Negan. Any smart candidate would do that, and Negan could already tell you were a clever girl. He called your name over the music, and you nodded, extending your hand

Negan took it into his and shook, enjoying how small your hand was compared to his. You were curvy and petite in the best ways, so much shorter than him but fully voluptuous, and you dressed like you knew you looked damn good, fuck whatever society said about beauty standards. “Mr. Dean, it’s great to meet you, sir.”

Negan grinned down at you, then pointed toward the staircase to your left, “Come on up, it’s quieter in the office.” And he led the way.

When he glanced back to make sure you were following, Negan saw you looking toward Dwight, giving him a friendly wave. He gave you a nod, a near smile, a pretty decent result from the house grump. He needed a manager who could get along with everyone, so right there was another point in your favour.

Closing the door brought the loudness of Saviours down to mere background noise, the evening crowds were always loud as shit. Negan loved it, the differences between the start and end of days, the energy. He gestured toward two armchairs he had, hating the process of sitting behind a desk to interview like he was some hot shot lawyer. He preferred the less intimidating, friendly way. It was just a coffee shop, after all.

A damn good one, though.

When you settled, Negan took his seat across from you, suddenly feeling a little distracted under the gaze of your bright eyes. “Well I’ll get straight to it; you come highly recommended by both Carol and Daryl. I won’t lie, I’m a pain in the ass to work for and I’m looking for someone who can handle hard work, long hours and most importantly, get along with my people. You really think that’s you?”

You were sitting with your back straight, legs crossed at the ankles, hands in your lap. You looked entirely at ease, meeting Negan’s eyes straight on as he spoke. When he finished, you leaned forward almost imperceptibly, your response instant.

“I’m exactly what you’re looking for, sir. I love people and get along with everyone. Do you think I’m best friends with Daryl and don’t know how to deal with a pain in the ass?” At this, Negan smirked, “I’m hardworking, and I have no other major commitments, so full time and long hours will suit me just fine.” You had a lovely voice, which was probably why you’d stayed working at the sales call centre for years before now.

In your resume, Negan had noted the year gap in wor—you had stopped working for the call centre just over a year ago, though it was noted you were a freelance writer and kept income that way. But he found it curious that you’d been working since you were a teenager and yet hadn't worked a solid job in a year. And now that he’d met you, he could see you were the hardworking type. Carol hadn’t known why you’d been away from a job for so long, stating that Daryl knew but didn’t tell her. He had said it didn’t matter, and that was good enough for Negan.

“Well, I’ll admit, on paper you’re ideal, which is why I scheduled you last today. I wanted to have time to read you.”

“And,” You interjected, a small smirk on your lips, “You know that keeping someone waiting the whole day for an interview will shred their nerves and leave them more susceptible to letting their true colours out.”

Negan stared, surprised, “Can’t get much past you, eh?”

You shrugged, “It’s a good tactic. But I assure you, I’m just as competent in the evening as the morning, and I think if you give me a chance to prove myself, you’ll be very happy with hiring me, Mr. Dean. I want to work here, you have an amazing place. It’s a part of this community, and the reintegration program is something I respect greatly, I have no issues working with men hired from there.” You paused, adjusting yourself slightly, palms falling open on your legs, “And, I’ll be frank, I want a job that has long days, that’ll keep me busy and tire me out and let me build relationships with customers. When I found out you were hiring, I jumped on the chance for Daryl to have Carol put in a good word for me. It just seems...right, to work here.”

“What about your writing, do you still do that?” Negan watched your face closely, and it didn’t waver, instead, your smile widened.

“I can write anywhere, anytime. And I make my own schedule with whatever commissions I take on, so it’ll be easy to write on my days off, or breaks if I don’t have a day off,” You pointed at Negan’s phone, which he’d set on the wide arm of his chair, “I can also help with writing any social media or website content, I know Carol mentioned you wanted to expand that presence, and I’m comfortable with that sort of work.”

Negan considered you, letting a comfortable silence fall as he thought over your words. You did seem eager, excited, and the fact that you’d researched what he was looking for impressed him further. Breaking eye contact, he glanced down at your resume once more, though he couldn’t think of anything else to ask. If he was honest with himself, he was ready to hire you after the first two minutes.

“I like you,” He said, thrumming his hands on his knees, “When can you start?”

“In the morning? Or I can go home, have my dinner and come back dressed more appropriately for work, if you need me straight away, sir.”

Negan shook his head, both as a response and in an attempt to toss away the thoughts that stirred up in the back of his mind every time you called him ‘sir’. “Tomorrow morning is perfect. And since you work for me now, you can call me Negan, asshole, or shithead, no more ‘Mr. Dean’ or fucking, ‘sir’, okay?”

When you smiled at Negan, it was the most dazzling he’d seen yet, bright white teeth and sweet dimples making his heart stutter. Damn, you really affected him. He needed to get a gri—you were half his age, for Christ's sake.

“Thank you, Negan,” You stood, holding your hand out and grasping his when he offered, your head tilting back to look at him as he stood before you. “Really, I promise I’ll make you proud.”

“Kid, I don’t doubt it.” He replied softly, and for a moment you simply looked at one another. Negan wasn't sure if you felt it, but he did; it was a spark. Fleeting, but strong enough that he knew life was about to get interesting again.

Taglist: @mermaidxatxheart @paintballkid711 @ladydmalfoy 🤍

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sisterspooky1013 · 3 years ago

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Damsels, Chapter Three: Interview

By SisterSpooky1013 / Read Previous Chapters Here

Rated E / Tagging @today-in-fic

The Hoover building is deserted at 4am, which is exactly why she has to be there so early. She arrives at Skinner’s office with nothing but her car keys and the casual clothing on her back. Agent Wiley, a young woman in her twenties, greets Scully warmly. She’s tall and brunette with an hourglass figure, and Scully has the passing thought that she is exactly Mulder’s type. She wonders if they’ve ever met.

“I’ll drive you to your apartment in Philly where you’ll stay for the duration of the undercover assignment, Agent Scully,” Wiley says in an authoritative though very high pitched voice. “We’ll leave your car in the bureau garage for the duration, but you can give A.D. Skinner your keys for safekeeping.”

Scully hands Skinner her keys and he sets them on top of his desk, rubbing his hands over a weary and sleep-rumpled face.

“I’ll fill you in on the case details on the way. Let’s hit the road, we’ve got a two and a half hour drive ahead of us,” she finishes, slinging her purse over her shoulder and making for the door.

Scully follows her mutely. Just as she reaches the door herself, Skinner speaks.

“Agent Scully?” he asks in a hoarse voice. She turns to face him. “I…I…” He keeps restarting his sentence, but never gets further than that.

Scully finally interjects. “It’s okay, sir. I understand. We all have a job to do.”

He nods at her with a grateful expression, and she follows Agent Wiley out to the parking garage.

The sun is just beginning to brighten the inky sky as they drive out of D.C. Agent Wiley is chatty behind the wheel as Scully leafs through the case file; once they get to Philly, she won’t have the opportunity to see it again. The only trace of Dana Scully in her apartment will be a burner cell phone, which she is to keep off and hidden in an air duct in the wall. She will call Agent Wiley at least every other day, or as needed, to share any updates. She is to turn the phone on only when she’s sure no one else is in the apartment with her. She is expected to get as close as possible to the other dancers at the club, one of whom they believe to be Mila Chamberlain. In the file, there’s a photo of Mila, a young Asian woman with a short blonde pixie cut and penetrating dark brown eyes. There is also her parents’ account of her disappearance shortly after meeting Ricky at a party, and their fears that’s she’s a victim of sex trafficking.

“Your cover is Diane Sellers, recently divorced and needing work,” Agent Wiley explains. “To our understanding, they won’t ask you much about your history, but it’s still good to have a backstory ready. It can be helpful to use real details from your life in regards to things like siblings, parents, and past romantic partners, just because it’s easier to keep straight. We don’t recommend addiction being a part of your backstory, in case that affects Ricky’s willingness to trust you. You should immerse yourself as much as possible with the staff, including spending time with them outside work if you can. You can have them over to your apartment, which is why it’s important that there’s nothing there that isn’t part of Diane’s story. It’s fully furnished with everything from tampons to Rice a Roni, but we’ve also set up a bank account and a debit card in case you need to buy anything. Once you identify Mila, call me. You should try to get as close to her as possible, and ultimately the goal is to confirm that she’s being held against her will. Then we’ll raid the club and get you both out of there. What questions do you have?”

Scully stares out the window at the cars rushing by. The pink sunrise illuminating the clouds on the horizon makes the sky look pinstriped.

“Why weren’t you asked to go undercover, if this is your case? You’re young, you’re very pretty. So I guess my question is why not you?” She recognizes the irritation in her voice, but she can’t help herself.

Agent Wiley glances over at her and back to the road a few times. “I can understand why you’d ask that. And I also realize that I haven’t thanked you for taking this assignment. It was a hard one to staff.”

Scully scoffs and turns to face the other woman. “I wasn’t given a choice, Agent Wiley.”

“Right. Sorry. Um, the reason I couldn’t take this assignment is that I have an ostomy bag, as a result of a pretty severe case of Crohn’s. I doubt anyone wants to see a stripper with a bag of poop strapped to her belly dancing around on stage.”

Scully closes her eyes against the shame that wells in her gut. “I’m sorry, Agent Wiley. That was rude of me to ask.”

“Don’t worry about it, Agent Scully. Honestly, I’d take my ostomy bag over this assignment any day. I don’t envy you.”

Scully turns back to the window, spinning up the life story of Diane Sellers as they drive on through the early morning light and towards her uncertain future.

Agent Wiley drops her off around the corner from her apartment with nothing but a set of keys and verbal instructions for where she can locate the burner phone. Her interview is today at 2, and the address of the club and interview information are on a slip of paper on the kitchen counter. They bid one another an awkward goodbye, and Scully goes in search of her home for the next several weeks.

The apartment is small, a studio, and fully furnished. She can tell that Agent Wiley herself took care of decorating it; youthful touches like a sequined throw pillow and a magnet on the fridge with “Diane” printed on a tiny license plate give it a dorm-like feel. Many of the items appeared to have been thrifted, which will be important to keeping up her ruse of being a woman in a tight spot financially. She locates the air duct and the burner phone, turning it on to be sure it works before securing it back in its hiding place. She pokes around the various cabinets and cupboards to find all kinds of dried goods and snacks, and is surprised by the 6 pack of beer in the fridge and the bottle of vodka in the freezer. The closet is full of clothing in her size, some of it basic jeans and tees, some of it tube tops and daisy duke shorts that she would never wear. Well, Scully would never wear them, but she suspects Diane would. The slip of paper on the counter reads:

Damsels in Dominance

1634 W York St, Philly

Ricky Dean, 2pm

She makes a face at the name and her stomach turns at the thought that this might be some kind of S&M club. It's just after 9am, so she has quite a bit of time to kill before her interview. She doesn’t think she’ll be able to sleep, so instead she takes a thorough inventory of all the cabinets and closets to see if anything important is missing. In the bathroom, she opens the medicine cabinet to find a full Oil of Olay skin care line right next to a box of condoms. What the hell does Agent Wiley think she has planned for this assignment? Her confusion deepens when she pulls open the drawer of the bedside table and is greeted by a book light as well as a small bullet vibrator. Either Agent Wiley went to very great lengths to make sure this apartment would pass the sniff test for anyone who decided to snoop, or….she doesn’t even know what the other possibility is. Adding some paperback novels to her mental shopping list, she slams the drawer shut and flops down on the bed. Mulder is at work by now, and she wonders how long Skinner will be able to keep up the ruse. Knowing Mulder, not all that long.

Mulder arrives at work just past 8, noting that Scully’s car is parked in her typical spot in the garage; she must have needed to stop by before heading to Quantico. He’s a little bit disappointed that she’ll be away for the next few weeks; the basement office is exceedingly boring without her. At the same time, he’s grateful for a bit of space to think.

The tension between them had reached a tipping point but now sits suspended, teetering between coworkers and friends or whatever lay on the other side. He’s made some attempts at pushing things towards the “more than friends” end of the spectrum, but nothing seems to come of it. He kissed her, and while she kissed him back and seemed receptive to it, she hasn’t initiated anything further. The night they played baseball together was fun and flirtatious, but again nothing happened. He’s getting the sense that any move will need to be made by him. Maybe Scully just isn’t the forward type in these situations, or maybe she isn’t confident enough that he’ll reciprocate. This time that she’s working away from the office might be the perfect opportunity to take her out on a real date, knowing that if things get weird they won’t have to face each other in the morning.

Entering the office, he doesn’t find her there; they must have just missed each other. He logs into his email and opens a new message.

Hey G-woman,

What time can you get away for lunch today? I was thinking about checking out that new sushi place on 8th. Or we can meet halfway, whatever works.

Would you like to get dinner sometime this week? My treat. Let me know.

Mulder

He hits send, then digs in to some more case reports that he needs to complete. He has a vision of Scully returning to find them completely caught up on paperwork and how pleased she’d be with him, and decides then and there to make it a reality. While he’s not generally an approval-seeking kind of guy, the surprised smile on Scully’s face when he does something uncharacteristically responsible is one of his favorites. The number one spot will always, of course, be held by the smile she gives him when he says or does something that truly strikes her as funny. He finds it hard to keep from smiling just thinking about it.

Two hours later, there’s no response from Scully. That’s a little bit weird, but not exceedingly so; if she’s working on a particularly gnarly autopsy it can take quite a while. When he still hasn’t gotten a response by noon, he first checks his sent email to be sure it went out, then picks up his office phone.

“Autopsy bay, this is Richard.”

“Hey, Rich, this is Agent Mulder up at the Hoover Building.”

“Hi, Agent Mulder, how can I help you?”

“Is Agent Scully around? I was hoping to talk to her.”

“No, I haven’t seen her.”

“Not at all today?”

“No, I haven’t seen her in a few weeks, actually.”

A flush of worry spreads across his chest.

“Hey, Rich, are you guys pretty busy down there? I hear you have a big case you’re working on.”

“Busy? Uh, no, not really. Just business as usual.”

“Okay, thanks. If you see Agent Scully, will you ask her to call me?”

“Sure, will do, Agent Mulder.”

“I appreciate it, bye.”

He sets the phone down and sits back in his chair. Did Scully lie to him? And if so, why? Her car is here, so he knows she came in today. Picking up the phone again he tries her cell, which goes straight to voicemail. The darkest part of his brain worries that she came to the office but never made it to Quantico. He makes one final phone call.

“Skinner.”

“Hi, sir, this is Agent Mulder.”

“How can I help you, Agent Mulder?”

“Have you heard from Agent Scully today? I’m having a hard time getting in touch with her.”

“She’s assigned to work at Quantico for the next few weeks, Agent Mulder, she wasn’t expected to report to the Hoover Building today.”

“I know, sir, but her car was in the garage when I got here and I just called over to Quantico and they haven’t seen her today. I’m a little worried.”

He hears Skinner mutter what sounds like “Jesus H Christ” under his breath before he speaks again. “Agent Scully is fine, Agent Mulder. She’s on assignment. I encourage you to focus on your own assignment.”

Mulder hesitates. “Should I take that to mean that she’s NOT assigned to Quantico?”

Skinner sighs. “All you need to know is that she is fine, but unreachable. You worry about yourself and let me worry about Agent Scully, got it?”

“Um, okay. Thank you, sir.”

He hangs up the phone even more confused than before. Scully’s behavior yesterday after she returned from Skinner’s office makes a little more sense; she was uncomfortable about lying to him. When he leaves the office that night, her car is in the same spot it had been that morning. He doesn’t like this, but he knows Scully was in the same situation when he was on an undercover assignment and he should just trust her, and Skinner, and wait it out. That’s easier said than done, and he spends his entire evening imagining all the dangerous situations she might be immersed in. Drug cartels, amateur mafias, cults, hackers, the list goes on and on. He can only hope that she’s safe.

Damsels in Dominance is an unassuming building nestled between strip malls and fast food restaurants. The parking lot and entrance are at the back of the building, a fabric-draped chain link fence surrounding it for privacy. Scully pays the cab driver, though now that she realizes how close her apartment is to the place she’ll probably just walk back. After much deliberation, she wound up wearing jeans and a blue T shirt, guessing that it would be out of place to dress up for an interview at a strip club. She pulls the front door open and finds herself in a small foyer with a counter along one wall, a hulking man perched behind it on a stool. Even seated she can tell that he’s very tall, with a broad chest and square shoulders. His neck is nearly nonexistent, thick and disappearing into the rolls under his chin like a tree trunk. His head is shaved bald and his deeply tan skin shows evidence of long ago healed acne scars on his ruddy cheeks. A small gold name tag pinned to his T-shirt reads “Denny.”

“Hi, I’m Diane, I’m here for an interview with Ricky,” she says with a smile. She’s decided that Diane will be the kind of person with an easy smile. The kind of person who makes friends quickly. She channels her sister Melissa, who would talk to anyone and somehow have them sharing details of their childhood trauma within fifteen minutes. If she’s going to get these people talking, she needs to be more like Missy and less like herself.

Denny nods with a grunt and stands, proving himself to be at least six inches taller than Mulder; her head barely reaches his waist. He comes around the counter to push open a second door and holds it for her, motioning her to follow. They enter one end of a long hallway, a door directly in front of them labeled “Enter Here to be Dominated.” They walk down the hall, past some restrooms and several other unmarked doors, until they come to one that says “office.” Denny knocks and a small woman answers.

“Diane, 2 o’clock interview,” Denny says in a flat baritone, then turns and walks away.

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dale-the-human · 3 years ago

Text

Never Eat Soggy Waffles (VENOM 2 TRAILER ONESHOT)

Based on the latest trailer for "Venom 2 Let there be Carnage," specifically the fantastically chaotic breakfast scene which is perfect and I love every part of it. READ ON AO3

In the films, the sentient, genderless gooey blob bonded to Eddie Brock is often referred to by he/him pronouns so that's what's used here. My headcanon is that Venom couldn't care less what they're called, as long as it's not "it" or "parasite" or "gooey blob."

Too fuckin early.

That was the first coherent thought that went through Eddie's mind as he went through the uncomfortable process of dragging his sluggish brain back to consciousness after twelve hours of something that resembled a coma more than sleep.

He felt something only-semi-gently prod his cheek and opened his eyes to find Venom's face floating so close that if both of them had had noses, they would be participating in what is rather-extremely inappropriately called an "Eskimo Kiss." There had to be a better, more culturally sensitive name for that, but with only half of his brain online, the word was out of Eddie's reach.

The first five times Eddie had woken up to the dramatic visage of Venom's face floating approximately two inches away from his own, he'd been understandably startled. For example, instance number four had resulted in a violent collision with the laptop Eddie had made the mistake of leaving right next to his head.

But a year of morning jumpscares had conditioned Eddie's sympathetic nervous system, and today he barely even blinked.

"IT IS 1PM, EDDIE," Venom said. "I WOULD SAY GOOD MORNING BUT THAT IS NOT EVEN ACCURATE ANYMORE."

Eddie groaned, turning away from him. He grabbed another pillow and shoved his face into it, blocking out the sunlight piercing through the half-broken window blinds. When had those even broken? He didn't care enough to try to remember.

A callous black tentacle very rudely snatched the precious pillow away, then even more rudely smacked Eddie on the cheek.

"WAKEY WAKEY, EGGS AND BAC'Y"

"...What?" Eddie mumbled sleepily. "The hell'd you learn that from?"

"A COMMERCIAL. YOU WERE ASLEEP AT THAT POINT."

"Ah."

Venom had a fascination with human television, and since he required significantly less sleep than Eddie, and Eddie could sleep though pretty much anything, they would often spend the night laid out on the couch, Eddie drooling on the dilapidated cushions while Venom watched anything and everything from football to infomercials to Pawn Stars to The CW.

To Eddie's mild confusion, Venom was particularly fond of Supernatural, He enjoyed learning human lore of monsters and ghosts, and occasionally woke up Eddie to ask if something was real. Even though the answer was almost always "No, and for the love of fuck just let me sleep," the alien still greatly enjoyed the show. Once, he shared with Eddie that his favorite character was Dean because he looked the most like him. Even though Eddie had apologized for laughing so hard, Venom was too embarrassed to ever bring it up again.

After another minute of impatient prodding, Venom successfully got his reluctant host out of bed. It took a combined effort to get both of Eddie's arms into the sleeves of a dingy old bathrobe, then the two of them trudged over to the kitchen, sidestepping a chicken and other assorted detritus they'd been "meaning to clean up" for several weeks now.

"Okay, c'mon, V," Eddie grumbled. "You've gotta let me have coffee today."

NO, the symbiote answered inside his head. WE HAVE TALKED ABOUT THIS, EDDIE. CAFFEINE IS NOT GOOD FOR YOU, AND WE DO NOT LIKE THE WAY IT FEELS.

Eddie sighed, opening the fridge. "You know, you're really bustin' my balls here. It's just coffee. Everyone drinks coffee- I've been drinking it like it's water for the majority of my adult life and look how I turned out."

WE KNOW. THAT'S ONE OF THE MANY DAMAGES YOU SHOULD BE GLAD WE ARE HERE TO FIX. IT'S IMPRESSIVE HOW WELL YOUR BODY FUNCTIONED DESPITE YOUR BEST EFFORTS TO RUIN IT.

"You know what?" Eddie said as he rifled through the shelves of disorganized food. "I'm gonna choose to take that as a compliment."

He grabbed the carton of discount orange juice they'd purchased on a shopping trip several days ago, feeling Venom extend several tentacles from his back.

Eddie purposefully ignored the cacophony of crashing dishware and cookware that followed, diverting his entire focus to pouring himself a glass of cheap OJ as various ingredients and cartons of milk flew around him.

Behind him, he heard Venom turn on the radio and dial it to his favorite station. As misfortune would have it, it turned out to be a song Venom knew well enough to remember the lyrics to, and Eddie was treated to a delightful cover of "Let's Call the Whole Thing Off."

Venom's impression of Louis Armstrong wasn't actually half-bad, but it was a little hard to enjoy while the symbiote belted it out entirely within their shared headspace. Why he elected to project his voice mentally instead of forming a mouth and singing irl, Eddie had no idea. He was tempted to yell at him to shut up, but after a moment of consideration, he decided it wasn't annoying enough to ruin Venom's fun.

Still doing his best not to acknowledge the chaos behind him, Eddie picked up his glass and shuffled over to the crappy little table they used for most meals. Their previous table had been a much larger one, but it had met an untimely demise six months ago when the human-symbiote team had made the unwise decision to practice back-flips indoors.

Eddie sat down, only to be startled when Venom grabbed the table with a tentacle and pushed Eddie's chair closer with a violent shove.

While he waited for Venom to finish whatever unorthodox meal he was preparing, he looked through the stack of mail in front of him.

Another letter from that red-headed freak. Great.

It was almost flattering that Kasady had picked him specifically as the only interviewer he'd talk to, but the psychopath's fixation was disturbing, even for seasoned reporter Eddie Brock.

His thoughts were interrupted by the dramatic arrival of two plates stacked high with every breakfast food he could think of. Half-cooked eggs, burnt sausages, something with mushrooms, a few whole strawberries, pancakes, and waffles, all stacked in one horrific pile and soaking wet with milk and cereal.

TA-DA! Venom said proudly. He held a bottle of ketchup in front of Eddie with one tentacle. KETCHUP?

"Excuse me?" Eddie barely had time to register what Venom had said before the symbiote happily crushed the entire bottle and coated Eddie in a beautiful explosion of red sauce.

YUMMY, Venom purred.

As he sat there, decorated with what looked like a gruesome blood splatter and faced with the unappetizing prospect of eating the breakfast Venom had lovingly prepared for him, Eddie had the same thought as before.

Too fuckin early.

#venom #venom let there be carnage #marvel comics #oneshot #venom trailer #no monster fucking here just wholesome domestic Symbrock #drabble #Symbrock #venom 2 #wholesome symbrock #I wrote this at 5 am y'all #fml #I'm so tired

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fuckallthegood0nesweretaken · 3 years ago

Text

New World CH. Twelve

Title: Positive

Words: 1381

Warnings: Strong language, explicit sexual content (P in V sex, slight thigh riding), pregnancy

A/N: If you’d like to request something, send me an ask. I’d love to write for you!

If you’d like to support me, buy me a Ko-Fi?

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

New World Masterlist

Daryl Dixon Masterlist

The Walking Dead Masterlist

Masterlist

~~~~~~~

The moment they got back, Sam and Dean rushed to see if anything had happened to you. You were fine, along with the kids, and you led them over to Hershel.

“How’s he doing?” Dean asked.

“He had stopped breathing,” Carl said. “Mom saved him.”

“It’s true,” Glenn confirmed. You stood in the doorway, hands on Carl’s shoulders.

“Still no fever,” Lori said.

“I got some more blankets and towels,” Sam said. “They’re in Dean’s pack. Thought we could use them.”

“Thank you, hun.” Lori turned to look at Hershel, her hand touching his forehead lightly.

You fell into Daryl’s arms, basking in the warmth they gave you. After a minute of silence, you heard Hershel mumble something. Maggie sat down on the bed, hand resting on Hershel’s chest. Daryl was holding onto your waist and squeezed tightly when he opened his eyes.

“Daddy?” Maggie whispered, Beth surging forward.

“Oh thank god,” you said, Daryl tightening his hold on you. Rick uncuffed him from the bed and Beth was crying happy tears. Lori left the room and Rick followed a moment later. You looked after them with a confused face, but forgot about it when Daryl kissed you softly.

“Now what’s this I hear bout’chu making chili?”

---

You had taken the day as a win, despite Hershel losing his leg. There was finally enough food for everyone to get a full belly and you had a safe place to sleep. Carl had begged you to make your chili and you did, everyone loving it. You were happy that you could do something as simple as making dinner to make everyone in high spirits and the night was full of laughter. It was something you hadn’t had in a long time and you basked in it.

When it came time for bed, you helped Carol and Lori put everything away before going to your cell. Pushing aside the curtain you made with the sheets Sam had brought from the laundry room, you put Adeline onto her bunk before going to your cell. You took off your shoes, your clothes going next. Before you could put your pajamas on, you felt a pair of arms wrap around you and a scratchy beard nuzzling your neck.

“I believe we have somethin’ ta finish,” Daryl rasped in your ear. You could feel his straining cock on your ass and you pushed back with a quiet moan.

“Did we? I can’t remember,” you sassed. With a growl, Daryl spun you around and pushed you up against the wall. His knee was in between your thighs and you were on your tip-toes. One of his hands was holding your wrists above your head. Daryl attacked your neck with his mouth and you whined pathetically.

“D-Daryl,” you said.

“What, babygirl?” He didn’t stop his assault on your neck and began moving your pussy over his thigh.

“Please!” You could feel him smirk and he pulled back.

“Please what?” Daryl said lowly.

“Fuck me,” you whimpered.

“What if I don’t wanna? What if I want ta keep teasing ya until ya break?” You whimpered again, pussy jolting.

“Ya like that, dontcha? What if I left ya right now, all wet and wantin’?”

“Please,” you cried.

Daryl looked over you. Your chest was heaving, head thrown back, and your hips were now moving on their own. He could feel the wetness of your pussy on his thigh, soaking through his jeans.

“Look at ya,” he praised. “All ready, just for me.”

“Just for you!” His cock jumped when you said that and he pressed into you harder.

“Say it again,” he said.

“Just for you! Only you!”

With those words, he took mercy on you and crashed his lips into yours. Releasing your wrists, he took his shirt and pants off and you took your underwear off. You jumped up, your legs around his waist and he lined up his cock, pushing into you slowly. You both groaned and Daryl set a brutally slow pace.

His cock was stretching you in all the right places and the slow thrusts he was making made your toes curl. Your arms were around his neck as he held you up, his hands gripping your ass. You kissed him softly, whimpers escaping your mouth at a particularly strong thrust.

“Tell me that you’re mine,” Daryl whispered.

“I’m yours. I’ll always be yours.” He looked into your eyes and groaned before speeding up the pace.

“Yes- yes! Oh god,” you choked out. One of Daryl’s hands left your ass and started circling your clit and you keened. Your pussy clenched his hard cock and you came all over him. Daryl never let up his pace, his fingers still on your clit. You moaned loudly and Daryl shut you up with a kiss.

“Gotta be quiet, babygirl. We ain’t in tha tower.”

“I can’t—“ You tried to speak, but the pleasure felt too good.

“That’s it. Come for me again.”

You came with a cry and Daryl muffled it again, finishing a few thrusts later. Coming down from your high, you kissed Daryl softly. He carried you to the mattress and set you down, grabbing a cloth to clean you up. Once you were both clean, he joined you on the mattress and pulled you close. When you were about to fall asleep, you heard Daryl mumble your name.

“[Y/n]?” He asked.

“Yes?”

“Ya mean whatcha said? That you’re mine?” Turning in his arms, you saw worry and doubt in his eyes. Bringing your hand up to his cheek, your thumb brushed his cheekbone.

“Daryl Dixon,” you murmured. “I am yours.”

“And ‘m yours.”

You kissed him, pouring all the love you felt for him into it. The kiss wasn’t long and you cuddled into his chest, sleep calling for you.

---

The next few days came and went sooner than you liked. Daryl and Adeline were gone when you got up, but you saw his crossbow sitting against the wall. Not thinking about it, you got dressed and went to get some breakfast.

“Morning!” You said. “What’re we doing today?”

“Gonna bring the cars in and get rid of the bodies out in the yard,” T-Dog said.

“Sounds like fun.”

“I was hoping you’d stay inside today,” Lori said to you. “Help us get situated here?”

“Of course, Lori. I can do that.” You saw the relief flooding in her eyes and she handed you a plate of food.

“Where’s Rick?” You asked, mouth full of food.

“I’m right here,” he said. Daryl was with him and he walked over to give you a kiss before getting some food himself.

“I’m gonna stay in here with Lori. Help out with Hershel, make sure things go well.”

“Alright. We should get started. Let’s go.” Daryl looked at his food sadly and you nudged him.

“Go on. I’ll make sure that lunch is ready for you when you get back.” Daryl kissed you and shoved food in his mouth.

“See ya at lunch.”

“See ya,” you said. Adeline looked up from her plate and made eye contact with Daryl.

“Bye daddy!”

You saw Daryl freeze before leaning down to kiss her head.

“See ya, princess,” he mumbled.

Daryl, Rick, Carol, and T-Dog went outside and you went to put the plates away, heart fluttering. It was gonna be a long day.

---

[Y/n]

“Hey, [y/n]? Can I talk to you?” Lori asked.

“Of course. What’s up?”

“I think you might be pregnant,” she said. Your eyes widened and you stared at her.

“W-What?”

“I’ve noticed some things that I don’t think you’ve even noticed. I’ve seen that some smells have almost made you sick and that your jeans are getting snug,” Lori said. Thinking back on it, you realized that she was right and you shook your head.

“Shit,” you said. Lori handed something to you and pushed you outside.

“I’ll stay with you if you want. Take the test to double check.”

“Thank you.”

The two of you walked a little ways away and you took the test. The three minutes you had to wait before you knew the result was nerve-wracking but you were happy that you had Lori with you. Then the three minutes came and went, you hesitantly looked down.

Positive.

#New World #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead x reader #supernatural x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl x reader #reader insert #x reader

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jeongyunhoed · 3 years ago

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Past-Present-Future Black Dahlia

Two major tragedies bring Lee Mirae closer to the edge as she goes through the stages of grief in a more violent manner that would affect not only her relationships with her boyfriend Jeong Yunho and her half-brother Choi San, but also has her becoming closer with the immortal mutant Kang Yeosang. Fueled by rage, grief, and pain, along with a very rude awakening that has Mirae spiraling out of control and questioning everything she holds dear.

Group: ATEEZ Member: Yunho Pairing: Jeong Yunho / OC Genre: Action, adventure, angst, fantasy

Watch Out! : Violence, blood, death, grief and loss, major character deaths, use of weapons, some jealousy (but no cheating ofc), implied smut (not sure if there is any but i’m putting it out there nonetheless), mental illness (probably?), gambling and alcohol

Anything else? : Mentions of other idols of course as well as other characters. SuperM, Dean, Chanyeol, Zelo, soloist Park Jihoon to name a few.

Author’s Note: First chapter is here! Compared to the previous stories from the AU, this might have very long chapters, like more than 10 pages in google docs long. But anyway, tag list is open, and yeah. Enjoy the first of a rollercoaster of emotions.

This whole first chapter also, is me giving brief backstories of what happened before/backstories of many characters here. Basic plot is mine, characters are not. This is all for fun/entertainment/emotional anguish.

Masterlist

Chapter 1

When one is at their breaking point, everything begins to change. The lines between right and wrong are blurred, and one’s moral compass begins to spin into oblivion.

9:00 p.m.

Laughter filled the almost empty space of Viva Polo, having closed for the night except for a table occupied by Lee Mirae, Park Chanyeol, and Kwon Hyuk. The rest of the tables had already been overturned, marking the end of another day at work, at least for Chanyeol. The three of them had a tradition of meeting up every week, something they started doing after the previous adventures they had.

The three of them were mutants, and to their knowledge, they were the last surviving members of the group that saved the country, if not the world during the Seoul attack. A year after that, the three of them found each other again, reuniting to save the country once again from an evil cult bent on achieving utopia through taking control of its citizens. Two adventures that had major consequences on the three of them, and events that they will forever remember.

Two of them, Mirae and Hyuk, were classified as omega-level or level 5 mutants, with powers that were impossible to surpass by any other mutant thus far. Mirae was not only gifted in a mastery of hand-to-hand combat, both armed and unarmed, but she had the gift of manipulating potential energy into kinetic energy. She could turn virtually any object into an explosive and if channeled to an extreme extent, was able to level a skyscraper.

With her abilities came the secondary gift of a healing factor that made her almost immortal and slowed down her aging immensely. Because of her ability to manipulate energy, she was also able to generate static that resulted in a very strong psychic block that was only made stronger by another omega-level mutant, Jang Ino. From the adventures she had on her own and even after the Utopian cult, another ability manifested itself in her; taking souls and trapping them into objects, usually her deck of cards.

Meanwhile, Kwon Hyuk, a well-known music producer and songwriter, was a level 5 telekinetic and could move anything with his mind. His psychic abilities also gave him the gift of producing shields that were almost impenetrable.

In their adventure into the Utopian cult, Hyuk developed his telepathic abilities, which he used to extract memories or read into memories of others. Hyuk was nearly captured by the goons from the Utopian cult when they met again, and has since tried to use his powers as discreetly as possible with some difficulty.

Hyuk didn’t formally join Mirae and Chanyeol until the later days of the Seoul attack, having laid low, undiscovered by Ino who was at the time, serving his father Professor Inhwan Jang. Hyuk had openly used his powers in front of the group during a time when Mirae and one of her other colleagues, a telekinetic named Luhan, were affected by the goblin king’s inducement of traumatic memories that caused their powers to manifest for the first time.

It was there that Hyuk realized that he could do so much more with his mutant gifts, rather than use them solely for trivial purposes.

Hyuk had a cousin, the singer Lee Midam, who was under his entertainment agency, in the 10-member group called Silver. Midam was, like him, a psychic, but of a different kind. Midam was a psychic that could make the worst fears or strongest desires of another person come to life before them. Midam also had the ability to sense when a person will die in the near future.

Park Chanyeol was a level 4 pyrokinetic, also known as an alpha-level mutant. He created and manipulated fire in all its aspects, from turning into a fire being to being able to put out and set fire onto virtually anything. In his fire form, he was granted the ability to fly and heal and even out of his fire form, Chanyeol could withstand extreme heat.

He worked with Mirae in the Center for Paranormal Research upon his discovery by Ino, leaving his work in his mother’s Italian restaurant behind to find purpose for his abilities. For some time after the Seoul attack, Chanyeol thought he was the only one left, until he was seen by another survivor, their tech guy Choi Junhong, looking over the remains of what used to be the Center, the epicenter of the entire attack.

From the adventures they had, the three of them still managed to continue with their lives. Hyuk stayed in his agency to work on music, Chanyeol helped around his parents’ restaurant and live club, while Mirae ran the music store that she took ownership in after the passing of her adoptive parents. Hyuk and Chanyeol also helped other mutants like them, Mirae’s old colleagues from her days as an assassin under a sanitarium, practice controlling their powers.

With the way the events of the past years shaped them, their lives would forever be intertwined and they knew it. Even with the disagreements that occurred in the final days of the Seoul attack, with the three of them being the only survivors from that group that acted, they were like family to each other.

“One of these days, we’ll go on a mission, do something, just the three of us again,” Chanyeol said fondly, finishing the last slice of pizza from his place.

“Even if we don’t go on something like that, we should still do something, just the three of us,” Mirae repeated with a grin. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah, someone needs to watch your back this time, you nearly got your powers taken away,” Hyuk pointed out, taking a sip of his iced tea.

The last adventure Mirae went on involved a demon and their followers, the one responsible for a long-running conspiracy that went behind the glitz and glamour of the country’s entertainment industry. Mirae was outmatched and captured, her powers being used to channel the summoning of the demon Ose. It left her boyfriend Yunho and her half-brother San, along with her old colleagues including immortal mutant billionaire Kang Yeosang, to be the ones to save her and the world.

Mirae shook her head. “It was only one time. Just one. But I’m starting to think I’m losing my touch, to be honest,” She looked down at her now-empty plate.

“I wouldn’t think of it that way if I were you,” Hyuk patted her shoulder. “You still have your powers, don’t you? Didn’t Junhong say your powers only got stronger after that? You’re practically invincible.”

“Says the person who is also practically invincible,” Mirae grinned.

“But I don’t heal like you do. Chanyeol doesn’t even heal like you unless he sets himself on fire.”

“Can you stop talking about injuries now? I think we’ll be late for that training session both of you promised the guys,” Mirae nudged the telekinetic.

Chanyeol got up at the mention of the training session. All of their plates floating in mid-air, the cutlery and glasses sorting themselves out, as Hyuk followed the taller male into the kitchen, making sure nothing dropped. Mirae smiled to herself as she removed the tablecloth and the napkins.

The boys at the safehouse would be waiting for them, San and Yunho included. Choi San was her half-brother, and had almost the same abilities as her, including her healing factor and a mastery of martial arts. Unlike Mirae, who channeled her powers mainly through her extendable staff, San channeled his into a harpoon gun.

San’s powers first manifested in his high school years, as a result of the constant pressure placed on him by their father, who wanted him to pursue a career he himself wanted. Upon learning how to control his abilities better, San ran away from home, eventually learning the skills he knew to become a paid hitman. San also witnessed Mirae getting taken away to be interned at the sanitarium, and he looked everywhere for her.

Jeong Yunho was Mirae’s boyfriend. Yunho was also like her, skilled in hand-to-hand combat, both unarmed and armed. Yunho was also a mutant, an immortal mutant who possessed the ability to teleport, but could only do so in dark places.

Yunho’s powers manifested when he was killed in Morocco during what would be Mirae’s final mission before she was discharged. Her memories of him were seemingly erased in the final electroshock therapy session used to alter her recollection of missions. They only found each other again when Mirae was being targeted by the Kang crime family, descendants of Yeosang who held a disdain for mutants.

Hyuk returned from the kitchen. “What’s that smile about?” He asked.

“Nothing, nothing, I just realized how it’s been a while since we did something like this together,” Mirae replied.

“Lee Mirae, you’re getting sappy.”

“Did I lie?” She laughed.

“No, but that’s weird of you,” Hyuk laughed as well. “I mean you are right. I’ve been busy practically managing the group, Chanyeol’s busy here, we’re just busy living our lives.”

“My point stands that we’ve never done anything together in a while, unless those goblins come up again and try to kill us,” Mirae joked.

“Hopefully not,” Said the psychic, the table in front of them turning itself over on top of another table. “Even with the way things ended back then, I’m glad the three of us found each other.”

The kitchen doors opened and Chanyeol returned, wiping his hands, with his backpack in tow. “Whose car are we using?” He asked.

Without another word, the three of them extended their fists. Both Mirae and Chanyeol had scissors, while Hyuk’s hand remained curled into a fist. “Guess it’s yours then, Mr. Psychic,” Mirae grinned.

“Be glad I stopped for gas before coming here,” He gave them a look as they left the restaurant.

The car pulled up in front of a brick-walled building that had a vending machine. It was the entrance to the safehouse that now became the headquarters of everything mutant-related. It was also where Mirae’s old colleagues were now staying, with the exception of two; Jung Wooyoung and Park Seonghwa.

The three of them got out, sensing the slight change in the air as they approached the machine. They knew there was a sort of cloaking over the spot that shielded anyone from seeing that the vending machine moved to the side to reveal a secret passage. Chanyeol, Mirae, and Hyuk entered the dark passageway and stopped at the red door at the very end.

The safehouse was similarly modeled to the recreation room in the Center for Paranormal Research, with a couch and beanbags surrounding a flat-screen television and several game consoles. There was a sleeping quarters and a shower area and a kitchen that was only stocked with instant food. Ino and Junhong’s labs and offices were in the two other doors in the kitchen area that had a small dining table where they would at least take turns in eating.

This time, the safehouse had since expanded thanks to Ino’s ability to manipulate matter. Junhong’s lab was much bigger, more beds were added to the sleeping quarters, and there was a small training room that Junhong fortified. A shelf was behind the television, showing all the weapons carried by the group of men who now resided in the place; a rapier, a set of nunchaku, and a few axes and shurikens. Those belonged to three people: Kim Hongjoong, Choi Jongho, and Song Mingi.

All of them were trained assassins, skilled in hand-to-hand combat both unarmed and armed. While Mirae and Yunho were no longer part of the group, the remaining members were turned into personal guards of the Kang crime family and underwent several experiments to turn them into super soldiers. All of them were impervious to pain and were a lot more agile in their movements.

It was those experiments that triggered the mutant gene in each of them, their own mutant abilities manifesting around the same time. Hongjoong possessed superhuman speed and could be as fast as the speed of light that also enabled him to heal if wounded. Seonghwa was a telekinetic, whose powers also made itself known if his eyes and fingertips glowed green. Mingi, like Chanyeol, was also a pyrokinetic, but unlike Chanyeol, could only manipulate flames that already exist.

Wooyoung on the other hand, possessed the ability to turn into a shadow being. His shadow form allowed him to be intangible, as well as give him superhuman strength and a healing factor. But along with his shadow form, Wooyoung developed a kind of extrasensory perception, where he could see past and future events from a person or an object, or even a name.

Jongho had the painful ability to manipulate his bone structure, and his arms and legs would produce a sharp spike that could pierce anything.

They immediately noticed that a few other weapons were shelved, as they were likely in the labs or in the training room; a set of sai, katanas, a bow and a quiver full of arrows, and the harpoon gun. Everyone was indeed present.

“Hello?” Hyuk called out as they closed the door behind them.

“We’re here!” Chanyeol called out as well.

“Yunho? San?” Mirae spoke, looking around the empty living room.

Suddenly materializing in front of them was Ino. “Good! You’re all here! The rest of them are in the training rooms, but can you wait a little bit? There’s something I’m finishing and I hope the three of you can test it out for me,” He said.

Jang Ino was a prime example of a true omega-level mutant, with abilities so powerful he was almost like a god. Ino had the gift of manipulating matter, inter-dimensional teleportation, telekinesis, telepathy, duplication with sentient clones, intangibility, precognition as well as the ability to see everything as it happened. Ino’s abilities manifested much later than the rest of them despite not being much older than Chanyeol, Hyuk, and Mirae, and thus had more difficulty trying to control each of his abilities.

“Really? What is it?” Mirae asked as Chanyeol put down his backpack while she put down her staff.

Ino looked excited. “Another training room, or…?”

“Another Danger Room,” Hyuk nodded. “Can it not turn into a vortex manipulator again?”

“I can’t promise that, but it’s as safe as ever, right? Just like old times,” Ino was beaming. “Ah, well, you might as well see it for yourself. I’ll call the rest of them,” and he disappeared.

“Are we supposed to wait for them here?” Chanyeol glanced at them, and they shrugged.

A commotion erupted from the door that was Junhong’s lab, making them turn around. “For a telekinetic, you could’ve aimed better! You could’ve killed me!” Hongjoong appeared, shooting Seonghwa a look.

“You sped away in time! You knew it wasn’t going to reach you anyway!” Seonghwa argued back.

“Well I wasn’t able to, not when Mingi keeps playing with that lighter of his! It’s like having to pass by a dragon each time I’m next to him.”

“So your situation is actually my fault, is that what you’re saying?” Mingi spoke, looking at them incredulously. “I was practicing my pyrokinesis the way Chanyeol hyung showed me, right, San?”

“Stop including me!” said the male who had a visible white streak in his hair similar to Mirae’s.

“This was a department store-bought shirt and Jongho just had to ruin it!” Wooyoung shrieked, pointing to the tears in his sleeve.

“Welcome to my world, Wooyoung! Live with it!” Jongho shot back.

“At least I don’t have spikes coming out of my sleeves and pants!”

Chanyeol and Mirae exchanged looks. Hyuk stifled a laugh. “Kind of reminds you how much we bickered back then, huh? I bet those guys would’ve loved to see a repeat of this,” He chuckled.

“Nothing seems to have changed after all,” Mirae laughed, their reactions making the group stop in their tracks. “We just had dinner,” She explained. “I see training’s been going well?”

“Not so much when the rest of them bicker more than San and I do,” out of the group came Yunho, who immediately swept her up in a hug then exchanged high fives with Hyuk and Chanyeol as he pulled away.

The taller form of Junhong appeared from the crowd as well, with scorch marks on his lab coat and a hole in his clipboard. Ino had materialized again as well. “So, the Danger Room, Junhong?” Hyuk asked.

“Yes, yes, the Danger Room,” Junhong led them to the pair of doors on the other side of the space. He pushed the button, the doors opening up to reveal a dark room covered in what looked like steel tiles. There was a panel of buttons near the doors from the inside and on one side of the room, was a booth. “Ta-da!” He announced, looking over at the three of them, while the rest looked amazed.

“A little shift in elements here and there, I was able to expand this entire space of ours, make it a little more familiar, don’t you think?” Ino smiled.

Mirae approached the panel of buttons near the side. “Ice fortress, dystopia, post-apocalypse, zombie invasion, alien invasion, gladiator arena,” She read out. Mirae turned to the next set of buttons and looked over at Junhong. “Why is my name at the top of this panel? Am I a level of difficulty?” She asked, looking puzzled.

“The highest,” Ino spoke. “But that level’s reserved for the three of you, not that these guys can’t do it, but the three of you are more experienced.”

“San and Yunho are just as experienced, if you ask me,” Mirae pointed out with a shrug, choosing not to argue any more.

“Yes, but they’ve never been through the same missions as you and Chanyeol did back at the Center, remember?” Ino reminded her. “The creatures at the museum, the goblin warriors at the train station, and their throne room, and the jewelry store at night?”

“I remember the jewelry store one,” Hyuk said, glancing at her. “We were coming from dinner when the store exploded. It was the time I found out Mirae was a mutant.”

Mirae smiled at her friend’s recollection. “Yeah, you came from that singing competition too.”

Chanyeol grinned. “The train station, I remember that well. Everyone hated us when they saw what was happening in broad daylight. Junmyeon got hot coffee thrown at him...” He looked down the more he remembered.

Ino noticed Wooyoung squinting at him, the rest of them looking fascinated by their brief trip down memory lane. “Well, I thought I’d show the rest of them how the three of you would do things in these simulations. Hyuk, I know you joined us late at the time, but you still know a thing or two on how to handle non-human entities, right?” He said.

“Oh yeah, I was with you all at the Esteholm,” Hyuk smiled. Sensing everyone else’s confused expressions, he chuckled. “It’s a hidden marketplace for non-humans, goblins, witches, warlocks, ogres…”

“You mean those things were actually here all this time?! On this planet?!” Mingi gaped at him and they nodded.

“Okay, okay, we’ll have a lot of time to talk about that later, but let’s have the three of you take this new Danger Room for a test run?” Ino suggested. “The rest of you follow Junhong into the booth, we’ll all watch from there.”

“What are we taking on?” Mirae asked.

Hyuk approached the panels. “What about…” He stopped when he read the mode at the bottom. “Evil villain mansion? What kind of mode is that?” He laughed.

Chanyeol and Mirae laughed as well. Mirae glanced at the booth, giving a thumbs up to Yunho and San, who looked excited as did the rest of them. “It’s exactly what it is. The mansion of the bad guy,” Junhong said from the booth.

“Alright then, put up the difficulty rate to my name, I guess,” Mirae said.

“That’s what I had in mind. Initializing evil villain mansion, Lee Mirae difficulty,” Junhong announced.

Hyuk backed away, until he was back to back with Chanyeol and Mirae. They heard tiles shifting and a swirling of colors all around them, bringing in a strong gust of wind. Mirae took out her staff from her jacket pocket and extended it. After a few moments, the swirling was disappearing, and they found themselves in what was the ballroom of a large, abandoned house that had some bits of modern technology on the locks of the doors and the windows.

“Okay, so this is the evil villain mansion,” Chanyeol mumbled as they took in their surroundings. “Where’s the evil villain, then?”

Mirae took a step forward, seeing two metal circles near the large fireplace. There was a seven-pointed star engraved on one circle, a hexagon that had the shape of a keyhole in the middle engraved on the other. The circles began to turn, until it slowly went up to reveal coffin-shaped tubes.

“This is oddly specific,” She muttered.

Hyuk and Chanyeol stared at the tubes as well. The closer they looked, they saw bodies, blackened and as if they had been mummified. “This is very specific,” Chanyeol nodded, feeling a chill down his spine as they approached the tubes.

Back at the booth, the rest of them stared at what was happening. “Can they see us?” Jongho asked curiously.

“I don’t think they can, can they?” Hongjoong glanced at Junhong, who was looking at the panels of controls. “But the surroundings look so real.”

“I know I should be used to this, but this is something I’ve never seen before…” San was staring at the tubes that were opening up in front of the three.

“Me neither, and I thought I’ve seen everything,” Yunho nodded.

From the side of the room, Wooyoung could suddenly see flashes of scenes in his head. He looked back at what was happening, seeing Hyuk, Mirae, and Chanyeol nearly destroy the surroundings they were in as humanoid demons with large talons began to attack them. The flashes kept coming. He could see people he hadn’t seen before having been inside the very booth they were in. Yet, Wooyoung wasn’t sure if this had already happened or it was about to happen. He stayed watching the simulation that Mirae, Hyuk, and Chanyeol were in.

“Kind of familiar, isn’t it? The train station,” Mirae’s eyes and fingertips were glowing as she sent shockwaves towards the two demons, but to no avail. Instead, the demons clapped their hands, sending similar shockwaves towards her. “They’re parrots.”

“What do you mean parrots?” Chanyeol had transformed into his fire form, dodging the attacks that were coming towards him.

“They’re copying everything we do,” Mirae spun her staff a few times before hitting the demon, only to be sent back by the other, who had turned into a fiery figure as well.

“Can they copy this?” Hyuk waved his hand, sending the two demons in mid-air. His eyes widened when the figure also raised their claws at him, lifting him up and off the floor. “This is impossible-” He crashed into the wall, moving away when some of the decor fell down.

“Looks like Junhong had his work cut out for him,” Chanyeol tried to burn down the doors of the room until the surroundings changed into what looked like a massive dock full of zeppelins and tables full of volatile chemicals in test tubes and beakers. “Yeah, now I can see why Mirae turned into a level of difficulty.”

“Let’s try not to touch anything, or interact with anything on those tables,” Mirae looked around on alert.

They heard a blast from all the way on the other side of the room. “Looks like they found us,” Hyuk said, trying to move the zeppelins as carefully as possible towards the source of the blasts.

“Those might explode if you let them get blasted,” Chanyeol called out at the telekinetic.

“Would you rather we get out of here with those? We don’t even know what to use these for” Hyuk pointed out, still trying to move the airships as the blasts grew louder, the impact exploding the tables closest to it. “At least they get blasted and we don’t-”

Boom.

There was a blast on their side of the dock, sending the three of them to the floor, as bits of shrapnel and the chemicals on the tables exploded. A large cloud of smoke enveloped them, soon revealing that they were no longer at the dock. They were back in the Danger Room, or at least what was left of the Danger Room.

Mirae opened her eyes, feeling considerably beaten as she looked around, surprised at what she was seeing. Her clothes were scorched, her staff was gone, and from the gust of wind that hit her, she realized what happened.

The safehouse seemed to have exploded.

Mirae looked around for a sign of Chanyeol and Hyuk. Was she still in the simulation? “Mirae! Mirae! Mirae! Are you alright?” She turned around, seeing Junhong, Yunho, and Hongjoong run up to her. “The machines overloaded when I was about to take you three out of there,” The tech guy explained.

She nodded, a feeling of dread suddenly overcoming her as she looked around the area. “Chanyeol? Hyuk?” She called out, kicking away a few bits and pieces of the rubble that surrounded them. “Chanyeol-” She stopped, feeling her heart sink.

Chanyeol was lying on the floor, a puddle of blood near his head, and bits of shrapnel having hit his sides. Mirae looked around for a sign of the telekinetic, only to realize that he was also lying on the floor, eyes glazed over. A piece of shrapnel hit his head.

“Chanyeol, Hyuk,” Mirae bent down, moving the rubble away from her best friends. She refused to believe it, refused to think that what happened really happened. “Chanyeol, Hyuk,” She took one of the sharp rocks and cut open her wrist, pouring some of the blood into where Chanyeol was hit. “Come on, both of you, this isn’t funny,” She saw that they weren’t moving while her wrist had already healed.

Junhong bent down to check Hyuk’s pulse, only for his expression to fall when he realized there was none. “Mirae,” He tried to say.

“No, I know what you’re going to say, and I don’t believe you,” Mirae shook her head profusely, crawling up to Hyuk. Tears were already falling from her eyes as the reality was hitting her bit by bit. “No, no, this can’t happen, not here, not now, no,” She patted his face, but no response. “No, Hyuk, no, don’t, please-” A sob escaped her as she held his body. “Hyuk, no, no, no, no, no,” She sobbed, reaching out to hold Chanyeol’s hand that was going cold. “No, please no, Chanyeol, Hyuk, you two can stop it now, please…”

“Mirae,” Junhong said again.

Hongjoong and Yunho exchanged looks, hearing the rest of their colleagues including San appear, all of them had traces of the smoke from the explosion on them.

“No!” Mirae shook her head again, until she broke down. They were gone. Her best friends. Gone.

17 notes · View notes

jay-and-dean · 4 years ago

Text

Firefly Chapter 5 : Eighteen years old

By Roonyxx and Jay-and-dean

Pairings : future Dean x reader ?

Summary : 40 years in Hell, but he didn’t spend all this time all alone, he had her.

Prepare to know what happened during those years Dean never talks about. To immerge yourself in Hell, only lit by the mysterious kid growing here…

And to see some of your favorite villains again : Crowley, Lilith, Lucifer… And also Sammy and Jack…

Serie Warnings : Hurt!Dean, Hell (torture, even if we tried to not give it graphic descriptions, creepy demons, blood, violence), swearing, angst, future fluff and smut.

This story is in both Reader’s POV and Dean’s POV

Wordcount : 6300 (big chapter)

Note : This is our second collaboration. We can’t both edit the same post, so we decided we would post 1 chapter/2 each, like we did for Same.

We both worked as much on this story and it’s the result of both our brains but also both our hearts.

Please, if you want to show love for this story, don’t forget we were together in this.

This story will be around 10 chapters and we intend to edit it every Saturday if nothing delays it. The story will be on a little hiatus because both @jay-and-dean and I are on holidays. Once we come back the story will continue it’s regular weekly edit.

Firefly Chapter 1

Firefly Chapter 2

Firefly Chapter 3

Firefly Chapter 4

Jay’s Masterlist

Roonyxx Masterlist

——————————————————————————

5. Eighteen years old.

When she turned sixteen, Crowley had told her the time of being childish was over, not that she ever had time to be a child. And for once, she didn’t fight him or argue. She had understood that she would never win by being an enemy.

They had to trust her, to give her freedom and access to the secrets of Hell…

So she became his apprentice and after two long years of following his rules and pretending to care, she was getting closer and closer everyday to her goal.

Getting out of Hell.

She grew colder with age, serious, harsh, anything they wanted her to be. Some days, she barely remembered it was an act, she was getting used to give orders and look at her surroundings with always the same dark threatening eyes. She was becoming the Queen Crowley wanted her to be.

But when she visited him, the man she fell in love with years ago, she remembered who she was.

And the demons were falling right into her trap, she had to get close to them, especially her father. Crowley knew the way out, he knew everything about Hell, everything she needed to know. So she played him.

She was sitting on a chair as Crowley explained to her the importance of crossroad deals, she wasn’t really listening as she let her pencil float in circles in front of her.

She could feel the shivers on her back as the door opened, the pencil dropped to the table.

Lilith.

“Crowley, we need to talk,” her head snapped towards Y/n. “Alone.”

Crowley sighed deep.

“Y/n go finish up your work in your room” he snapped his fingers and mentioned to a demon to escort her back to her room.

She held her chin high as she walked out of the door towards her room, the demon hot on her heels.

When, she walked right past her door, the demon grasped her arm.

“Where do you think you’re going, missy.”

With the flick of her wrist she had the demon pinned against the wall, she stepped closer to him and tilted her head to the side as she could hear the creature whine under her powers.

“That’s none of your business and when you get back you’ll tell them nothing, understand ?”

She clenched her fist, making the creature crack on the inside.

“Y-yes…” it whined.

“Yes who ?” she clenched her fist harder.

“Yes… y-your majesty.”

She released the demon and watched him scramble off. She turned around and made her way to Dean’s cell.

She no longer had to sneak around, the story of her taking on Alistair had spread like fire, and her growing attitude was convincing enough, all the demons were afraid of her now. They knew she was strong, that she became stronger every day. She could feel it : the power coursing through her veins. It made her more confident, and merciless.

She reached his door and carefully pushed it open, a smile gracing her face when she saw him.

Dean.

She was just in time, he was healed and conscious.

He lifted his head, as she came near.

“Hey Firefly.”

“Hi Dean.”

Every time she was near him she could feel it, the tickling in her stomach, her cheeks heated up. As fierce as she was, she got a little nervous around him, not much but seeing him always gave her a thrill. Over the years she had noticed how handsome he was, and her thoughts wandered more and more towards him when she was alone, what if they weren’t in Hell, what if she was more his age, what if…

He sat up against the wall, letting out a deep breath.

“I could swear I heard the demons talk about you the other day.” he said.

She tilted her head in question.

“The Queen of fire they called you, they seem scared of you. Maybe I dreamed it… I get confused, and...”

She sat down in front of him, she looked down at her hands.

“And you ?” she asked him softly, she was scared of his answer.

“What ?” he frowned.

“Scared of me ?” she looked up at him, she could feel the tears threatening to spill out.

“No, I’m not.” He shook his head.

She nodded in silence, that was good, she was working hard to be scary, but couldn't bear the thought of Dean being afraid of her.

“You’re growing so fast, Firefly. How old are you ?” his voice contained some kind of disbelieve, like he didn’t realize it had already been around 18 years since he first saw her.

“18.” She said, giving him a small smile.

“Time down here, it goes so slow and so fast at the same time” he scoffed.

A silence fell among them, he seemed to be better today, he was more alert and could muster up a little smile now and then. He seemed to think hard, she noticed a frown etched upon his forehead every time he tried to focus on something, the moment he was totally there were rare, maybe even more lately.

“Your powers… what are they ?” he asked.

“I don’t know” she shrugged, she couldn’t tell him she was half demon… then he would be scared of her, hate her at least.

“You seem to be getting stronger.” he said matter of factly.

She nodded, they had to change her chains monthly now, she could break them with a snap of her fingers. Her powers were like a child going through a growth spurt where the parents couldn't keep up with buying new clothes.

Her powers weren’t the only thing changing, her body was too. She grew taller, the childish features were disappearing from her face, and her old dresses no longer fit her more curved body. She was becoming a women. A beautiful one, Crowley said, hopefully beautiful enough for their Lord.

_______________________

It was evening, at least, she had decided it was. In Hell no sunrise and no dawn, but she had found a little watch, it had belonged to her teacher’s vessel she snatched it off him, along with his arm. It was an old watch, with metal gears and little carved hands. On her desk, the ancient watch was in the center, and Y/n used it to rhythm her days.

Nine p.m. it said, so she lit up a candle and turned off the other lights. She liked to feel the time, and darkness didn’t prevent her from reading.

She turned the old pages of the huge book she was reading, a incredible boring work about Hell’s places, how many bones were in the columns of the throne room, how the corridors were never exactly the same, how only demons, reapers or angels could find their way in this maze…

She already knew all that.

But at 9:28, as she lazily turned another page, her breath got stuck in her chest. On the yellowed paper, was a painting of the Sky Room, and a title : The Exit.

She got up, with the book in her hands, reading fast in the dark, walking circle in her room, her purple lace dress flying behind her like the wind had risen.

The Sky Room had been an exit all this time. She had taken Dean so close to the goal this time ! If only she had knew. The book said no demon could use it -that’s why they didn’t really care about the key before Alastair took it from her-, as it worked only for souls that didn’t belong here, or that weren’t perverted yet ? It wasn’t easy to say, because enochian wasn’t easy to understand precisely.

Dean didn’t belong here, and he for sure wasn’t perverted. Her ? That would be a good way to find out…

With the proper spell, and the key, she could at least make sure he will escape.

She sighed. Two years, two years acting like the perfect little princess to win their trust, two years of hiding the consuming hate and smile, to have access to this kind of knowledge that was hidden from her before.

All her previous researches and tries had always lead nowhere, but that sky… It was her way out, in her excitement, she attracted the little flame of the candle that came gravitate round her like a satellite.

Alastair had taken back the key, and there was only two choices : Either he had kept it or given it to Lilith. Her heart ached a little at the idea that she walked with the key in her Teddy bear for years.

But she would find it, even if it was the last thing she did, even if she had to burn Hell down.

She took time to memorize every details of the pages about the Sky Room by heart, in case one of them remembered this one was dangerous and took it back.

Then she calmly closed it and put it on her desk, she adjusted the many muslin layers of her long and heavy dress, and started to walk out of her room, with her tiny fire star still rotating around her.

The door was locked and warded, but it opened when she came near. Outside, a huge demon in his true hideous form was guarding her door.

“You can’t go out” he grunted, drool falling at his feet.

She didn’t answer, but when he lifted his arm to stop her, the little satellite of fire grew instantly, and became a huge and threatening ring circling her, and the demon hissed and growled, watching her sink in the corridors like a raging comet, blood puddles boiling on her tracts.

Dean’s cell was quiet, she stopped before it for a second, at this time of the artificial day, she knew he would be in a bad shape. She took a breath and plunged her hand in the big ring of fire around her, and found the tiny candle flame, she put it out between her thumb and index and the ring died. Darkness falling on her again.

She pushed the door and her bare feet under the dress met blood. Dean was laying on his side in a pool of blood, even bigger than usual, but he seemed to be in one piece... His back was on her, his head limp on the cold floor.

“Dean” she said softly, like she always did, to not frighten him.

She walked to him and kneeled, soaking her majestic dress in blood, and gently took his head in her hand, to put it on her lap.

“Hey…” she said, stroking his hair, but only his eyes moved and his lips were trembling a little. “You’re cold.”

A soft light started irradiating from her and his pupils dilated, heat started filling the room.

“F-firef…” he tried to say, stealing the saddest smile from her.

“Dean” she whispered. “I found it. I found our way out. Do you remember the Sky Room ?”

She felt him tense and hushed him softly, pushing a sticky bloody strand out of his face.

“No Dean, I figured it out” she reassured him. “It’s a way out, that’s why they got that mad when they found out I had the key. There is a spell… I’m so sorry I didn’t know back then.”

He looked up at her, his green eyes highlighted by the red surrounding them, his breathing fastened a little and she gave him a teary smile.

“It will be over in a few days, Dean” she bent to talk close to his ear. “That’s it, we’re going out. I will find the key or burn the door, you will see Sammy soon. In three days, they all leave to Earth, I will take you there and it will be over. Can you hold on three more days ?”

He nodded weakly, and a big tear cleaned a line in the middle of the blood on his temple.

She was watching him, his lips white, his lashes on his cheek since she had closed his eyes to pretend he was sleeping.

The blood had almost disappeared from his face and body, but she was still bathing in it, her dress was two-colored and she was wearing long gloves of his blood. It had been a few hours and her legs were sore, but no place was better.

He would wake up soon now.

She smiled down at him, thinking of him running out of Hell under the stars, of his brother’s face when he would meet him again. Would Sam be old ? Time was weird here… He would walk the streets and bathe in sun, he would eat and dance. And maybe, just maybe, she could be by his side, chose a song in one of those jukebox and turn on herself when alcohol would make her dizzy…

His grunt made the bubble of her dream pop.

“Dean” she smiled softly.

“Firefly” he hummed, grabbing her hand on his chest to give it a squeeze.

He tried to move but she shook her head slightly.

“Give yourself a minute, Dean” she whispered, seeing him struggle.

He closed his eyes again, still holding her hand.

She could see the colors fill his beautiful plumb soft lips again and wondered how it would feel to touch them. To touch them with her own… A kiss was a weird gesture, why put your lips on someone else’s ? Why not hand on hand ? Or nose on nose ?... Yet, she would have given her shitty life to know what it felt like to have his lips on hers.

When she was a little girl, she had started to dream about Life thanks to him, about nature, seeing the ocean, tasting ice cream, wandering in a city, dancing under a storm… But lately, all she could dream of was experimenting this life with him. Seeing the ocean blue reflect in those green eyes, it would make the most perfect color, eating ice cream in a theater with him, walking the streets holding his hand, kissing him under a storm…

“Did I hear correctly ?” he asked, sitting up in a grunt of effort.

“Yes, I found the way out” she nodded, remembering it might not work for her, she felt like she didn’t belong here, but she was also half demon...

“So why do you look sad ?” he frowned.

“I just don’t want them to torture you more for three days” she lied.

She just couldn’t tell him that she might be stuck. If she did, he would hesitate, and she would rather have to be Lucifer’s toy, than know Dean was being tortured forever.

“Three days…” he gave her the most tender smile. “I am damned for eternity, and you’re telling me I could go out in three days. That’s... “

He didn’t finish his sentence, his eyes fell on an invisible point on her dress, he seemed different, even more beautiful, his irises bright, his featured softer, lighter… Hope.

Hope suited him so well that she felt her heart flutter. How handsome would he be in happiness ? A wide smile appeared on her face, catching his attention.

“What will be the first thing you will do ?” she spoke, searching his face.

“I…” he frowned. “I think I will find Sammy and drink a beer.”

She didn’t answer, just looking at him in awe, imagining meeting Sam herself, tasting beer.

“Do you know where the key is ?” he asked.

“I have a few ideas, and I can open any locks lately, I got this.”

His lips turned into a smile, a thousand of expressions in his eyes and on the corner of his lips.

Dean had this way of holding her without reaching out at all, with the warm kindness in the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes, with the moves of his mouth and the worried lines on his forehead. And right now, she was feeling his aura holding her. The learned coldness of her heart melt and the little girl she once was started crying in the pit of her soul.

“And you ?” he whispered. “What do you want to do more than anything ?”

Her eyes dived in the black of his pupils. What she wanted didn’t really depend on her freedom, and there was a big chance she would never be free anyway.

Pushed by an invisible force, or a new courage, she came closer to his face, her thumb coming up to graze the freckles on his cheeks, enjoying the sight of him clean of blood and terror. Very slowly, she bent a little on his face, her lips shyly met his cheek and she barely let them graze his soft skin.

He didn’t say a word, let her move on her knees to gently rub the side of her face on his. For a second, she could hear the nostalgic yet comforting music coming from the jukebox and feel his arms around her. She wondered if that pleasurable dizziness she felt was like the one caused by alcohol that Dean had described ; if it was, she sure understood why people drank all the time.

She felt like she was dancing, at least what she had imagined of dancing, without moving. And the air wasn’t sulfur and blood anymore, it smelled like what she thought a summer night would… She didn’t need more than Dean to feel all of that.

Her face turned slightly, her nose grazing his, and she hesitantly put her lips on the corner of his. She closed her eyes to enjoy the feeling of that feathery touch, imagining all that setting around, with humans and warm lights, music, whiskey, wood, windows and wind, and laughs…

But the scenery shattered when Dean cupped her face with two big confident hands -like no one had ever held her- turned her just enough to line his lips with hers, and put a kiss on her lips.

A real kiss.

His lips were pressed against hers and it felt like their bodies were connected. She started shaking a little, moved by the most intense pleasure she had ever felt and waves of emotions.

He moved an inch back, his lips making a little noise on hers when leaving. So that was the famous sound of a kiss... It tickled a little, but before she could open her eyes, his lips met hers again, this time parting just a little, like he wanted, needed, to capture her own for himself. She parted her lips just enough for him to be able to cage her upper lip between his. Then again, and her bottom lip.

Her arms fell limp on his lap, and shivers roamed her entire body.

He bent his head slightly to the side and she gasped a little when she felt something wet graze her mouth. It was his tongue.

She parted her lips more, and when he opened his mouth to hungrily slipped his tongue between them to caress hers, something exploded inside her.

“Deeeaaan” the dreadful voice of Alastair threatened from the corridor with an amused tone, making him break the kiss the gasp in terror.

She wrapped her arms around him, tears immediately falling on her cheeks.

She couldn’t fight the demon, or they would find something to punish her, and he couldn’t find her with Dean, or they would watch them more… All that mattered now was the plan.

To save him, she had to abandon him now. And it was like ripping her own heart…

“Three days” she whispered and got up.

When she felt his hand slightly clinging to her in panic, she let out a silent sob.

“Dean I swear to you, look at me. I swear.”

She wiped her face and walked behind the door at the exact second the demon entered, a brush hook in his hand...

“Hello Dean, I prepared surprises for you, I’m pretty sure today will be the day you accept my offer.”

“Fuck you” Dean muttered through tears, making the demon laugh.

And she left in silence in his back, crushed by the idea that she could stop him now, but that it would ruin the plan.

Dean’s Pov

The chains made it hard to breathe, impossible even, and the pain was screaming in his ears, it was one of those days, when the demon didn’t finish Dean and he was so angry at his body for resisting like that.

Had he really kissed her ?

Snake embrace, Alastair said, and tightened the chains until they broke Dean’s ribs and his back. He just wish he could faint or die.

But tomorrow… Tomorrow his Firefly would take him away. So in his misery, through the panic of suffocation, Dean clung to the only thing he had : the little light in the middle of Hell, his hope, her.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow…

Hope made the dam break and he choked on tears, quickly silenced by the chains magically tightening more. He was going to die finally and when he will exist again… It would be tomorrow.

The door opened and she entered.

She was like a dream in the middle of a nightmare, nothing about her fitted here. Not her kind eyes, not her beauty, her innocence. And neither her wealthy look. Her long blue silky dress had a train that left a trail of the blood it wiped off the floor, the long tight sleeves were lace covered with occasional pearl…

She looked like a mirage. Her elegant silhouette entered the room, she had pomp dress and hair but her face still showed that artless expression, and for a second in his daze, he wondered how she would look in pajamas…

Did they really kiss ?

“Dean… Damn !” She came close but he couldn’t see her anymore, his eyes closing, rolling in his skull.

He felt her hands tug desperately at the chains and her soft voice groaning.

And suddenly, he could breathe. He gasped and coughed and the pain of his broken ribs hit him violently, but under them, nothing. He couldn’t feel his legs or his hips…

He blinked a few times and his eyes widened : the chains were gravitating around him like flying snakes, not touching any part of his body which rested in the air.

“Dean…” her voice came through.

The chains fell and she held him, when he slowly fell on the floor, like he was in water.

“Tomorrow” she whispered.

And he wanted to tell her how beautiful she was, how incredible. He wanted to ask her what she thought of her first kiss. She could defeat them all, and all the evil in the world… But his injuries were bad and he could feel his heart weaken.

“I know where the key is” she murmured, bending on him, her warm lips grazing on his temple.

“Y-you’re a miracle” he managed to state.

“I’m just a girl” she answered. “But you, Dean… You are everything. You are the sunshine and the starry nights, the music and the ocean. You are snow dancing in the air, and my fireplace, you are christmas and... “ he listened, his struggling heart growing even in his last beats. “You’re the moon in a summer night.”

A tear fell on his jaw and her lips pressed to his temple more, her voice broke a little.

“You are love” she almost whined.

He shakily found her hand, and grazed it with his last strength. He could feel what she was saying, her love was irradiating of her and he wondered how that kid could have grown that kind of feelings in here, and for such a wreck…

“I love you” she whispered. “I love you so much…”

His eyes stilled as his last thought, thanks to her, was a hope again : She will get out of here, and see real snow, and she will learn to love…

Reader’s POV

To see his ever so vibrant green turn cold and still, was a sight she would never get used to, no matter the fact she knew he was gonna come back. She carefully closed his eyes, and waited for him to open them again.

She held him for hours, felt how his body turned cold and stiff. She couldn’t imagine the feeling when death is permanent, because that was the only good thing in Hell, death wasn’t the end.

She had hoped to see his eyes open before she had to go back, but they didn’t. She took out her watch and she knew she had to go back to Crowley for her next lesson, she had to leave him again, or the plan would be ruined.

She placed her lips on his forehead and squeezed her eyes tightly as she felt his ice cold skin beneath them.

“I’ll be back, I promise Dean, I won’t leave you. You’ll get to see Sammy again.” She carefully wrapped her arms around his back, her hand holding the back of his head.

“I love you” she told him once more as she laid him carefully back down.

She would give everything not to have to leave now, but she couldn’t. But things would get better, tomorrow, he would feel the sun on his skin again.

Standing up, she looked back one last time from the doorframe, just to see if she could catch her favorite green one last time, but he was still inert. With a sigh she pulled the door closed behind her and went back to her room.

She stopped behind the corner of her room at the sound of Crowley’s voice.

“Why isn’t she in her room !” he snapped.

She was late…

“I swear she was here a second ago, sir” the coward demon answered him, even she could hear he was lying.

“Find her now !” Crowley yelled, she could hear the nails of the demon scraping against the floor as it hurried off.

“You know just as much as me where she is, Crowley” Lilith sighed, surprising Y/n.

She had the key.

“Why is she so interested in that Winchester, he’s no different from the rest. He’s messing her up” Crowley grunted.

They knew ! Since when ? She always had been careful about it, this was bad, but, her plan was still going, they didn’t know about that. They couldn’t.

“Maybe he is, but he also made her go after Alistair, without him she would never have grown so strong so fast” Lilith stated. “She’s becoming too strong and you know it, Crowley. Every one of my demons is scared of her, calling her the ‘Queen of fire’. I’m the Queen Crowley, she’s Lucifer’s WHORE !”

The walls trembled with her voice.

“And yet, what can we do ? I lock her, I punish her…” Crowley snapped at her.

“We’re running out of options here, we need Lucifer and we need him fast” the Queen said.

“I think we can deal with a child without our Lord” her father chuckled darkly. “Unless you too fear the Queen of Fire ?”

She heard a muffled thud followed by Crowley’s grunting.

“You might not be able to hold her back” Lilith groaned. “But she is still a long way from taking me down. So watch your tone with me, you slug.”

Maybe it was the distance or the way Lilith’s voice bounced against the walls of the corridor, but Y/n wasn't mistaking, she could hear fear.

Lilith was afraid, afraid of her.

Y/n couldn’t help the grin that formed on her face. She would get the key, Dean would be free.

She hurried around the corner to the small library to grab some books, she turned back to go to her room.

With the books grasped in her arms she passed the door. Lilith turned to her as she let Crowley drop down from where she had him pinned against the wall.

“Y/n! Where have you been ?” Crowley gasped.

She held her chin high, and looked Lilith in the eyes. The years of being terrified of the Queen of Hell were over.

“In the library.” she said as she mentioned to the books in her hands.

“You stay in your room until I tell you you can leave, that’s the rule Y/n.” Crowley took the books from her to see what she was reading.

“More crossroads lore ?” he questioned.

Y/n shrugged, crossing her arms.

“It’s interesting” she lied, hoping he would buy it.

“Whatever, you will eat dinner with me tonight” he sighed.

She frowned, that rarely happens. The only times Crowley asked her to join him, it was to introduce her to yet another monster.

“Why ?” she asked.

“Because I say so” Lilith told her coldly.

Lilith would eat with them ? Something was up, she could see it in the Queen’s horrible glare, and feel it in the shivers along her spine, but Y/n ignored it. Just a few hours from now, she would be out of here, or at least Dean would be. If anything, this gave her another opportunity to get the key.

“I look forward to it, your majesty” Y/n gave the mother of demons a sinister smile.

___________________________

They all sat down at the big table which was covered in food; a big pig with an apple in its mouth, grapes, red wine, bread and a dozen cakes, about everything you could think of was on this table.

Which was a shame, demons didn’t need to eat. Only she ate but, still, she could survive without it for longer than a normal human, and could never eat more than a fragment of this ridiculous display.

“So Y/n you’re probably wondering what all this is about ?” Lilith said as she watched her for the corner of her eye.

Y/n took her fork in her hand, making sure to keep up her pinky finger up, she had gotten enough beatings for forgetting it.

“Yes, I can’t help but do” she said, her mind was reeling with a way to get the key from Lilith.

The demons she had threatened had told her Lilith had the key, getting it from her would not be easy...

But not impossible.

“Lucifer is coming and you need to be prepared... ready” Crowley piped up.

“Prepared ? For what ?” she knew she was meant to be his slave, his wife in her father’s mind, like it could happen… but she didn’t understand why they said she wasn’t ready, prepared how ?

“Well, first, you’re not ready to talk to him, not with that tone for instance” Lilith sneered.

“Lucifer will need you, your powers to be more precise” Crowley told her.

“For what purpose does he need them ?” she frowned. “He is far more powerful than me, unless...” she looked at both of them “he is not ?”

Lilith laughed out loud, an ominous and mocking laugh that made Y/n want to drag Lilith through the halls of Hell and cast her in the deepest pit she could find.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, girl, no one is stronger than Lucifer. He will use your powers as a weapon… Or your belly” she grinned sardonically.

“A weapon” she repeated, putting her fork in her plate. “What do you mean my belly ?” she dared asking, the idea of the answer making her nauseous.

“To bring Hell upon the Earth” Lilith smiled.

No… not Earth ! That meant when she would get Dean out, it would all be for nothing ! Anger rose in her core, she could suddenly feel her ears burn with that rage she knew so well. When will they stop ? When will he be allowed to be happy ? Why soil everything ! She couldn’t let that happen.

“No” she stated, trying to hold her fury hidden deep inside of her.

Crowley’s had snapped towards Y/n.

“No ? Darling, you don’t really have a say in it” he laughed.

“I control my powers. I won’t do it !” she said, trying to weight her words.

“And why not ? You never even saw Earth, what do you care for it” Lilith got up from her chair.

It was the home of the man she loved.

“There are innocent people there. I just… I won’t do it.”

Lilith stood next to her, her hand grasped the back of her head, her fingers tangled in Y/n’s hair, pushing her down to the table, her face now in her plate. Y/n gasped, the rage inside her once again drowned by humiliation, like it had been so often in her life.

“Like daddy said,” she bent down to whisper in Y/n’s ear. “You don’t have a say in it.”

A necklace slipped out of the demon’s dress and dangled in front of her face.

The key !

Y/n was so close to grasp it… So close to freedom. Her heart started pounding in her chest and flashes of Dean in pieces came in her mind, making her more determined than she had ever been.

She started to vibrate underneath Lilith’s hand, she could almost taste her rage on her own tongue. Her body curled inwards, her breath slow and focused, her hair started to flow, she opened her eyes and could see herself light up in the reflection of the silver gravy boat that was placed on the table.

With a powerful blast of fire everything around her vaporized to dust as Crowley and Lilith flew pinned against the walls.

“I WON’T DO IT” her voice was unrecognizable, it sounded like she was speaking with a thousand voices at the once.

She was floating high in the middle of the room, she spread her arms and could feel two fiery wings erupt from her back, so big they touched each side of the room.

She would get out. She wouldn’t take any of their punches, any of their humiliations. And Dean wouldn’t spend another night in that cell. She was getting out. Now.

Her eyes focussed on the key around Lilith’s neck, with a nod of her head the chain snapped and the key flew into her hand like she was the magnet.

“YOU WON’T STOP ME” she clenched both her fist, the flames around her growing with the rage inside her as she forced the demons out of their vessels.

A force that wasn’t hers made the room colder. Her head snapped towards Lilith who seemed to be whispering something.

“L-Lilith” Crowley yelled.

Y/n felt an invisible cord wrap around her feet, it tugged her down violently to the floor with one hard pull. Her wings disappeared, Lilith ran towards Y/n and threw a small vile in front of her, it caught fire and followed a line all around her.

She felt herself growing weaker and weaker, the more she fought the heavier everything got.

“Stop trying Y/n, you’re trapped, no way you can cross that.” Crowley said as he wiped the dirt of his dress pants.

“You really thought you were gonna get out ?” Lilith sneered at her, a wicked grin on her face.“Oh and you wanted to take the Winchester boy with you ?” she was now laughing out loud.

Y/n crawled to the edge of the fire ring around her, heavy and beaten, but met an invisible wall, icy and crackling, she couldn’t pass. She used all her strength, all her rage, but the anger was just a stomachache now, and her body was a prison. She was trapped.

“Told you the spell would work.” Crowley told Lilith, with that fear hidden in his voice, the voice he had when he felt like he had to protect himself. He wouldn’t help her.

Lilith leaned closer to her, victory on her face.

“I got you now, don’t ever think you are stronger than me. It’s over.”

No… it couldn’t be, she had to get Dean out of here, she promised him… She swore. Dean was waiting for her, she couldn’t let him down…

Her ribs became too tight and a sob of supplication escaped her mouth. She lifted an arm, in a last attempt to resist, but despair was even heavier on her back, than the spell was.

“Bring her to my cage” Lilith said, opening the door to the demons on the other side, intrigued by the noise.

“No no, please no.” Y/n started, she knew by now that Lilith intended to lock her up for good this time.

The thought of Dean waiting for her was unbearable… He would be waiting… forever. In a strangled sob, she clutched the key in her hand so hard it snapped. She looked down at her hand, it was broken…

“It’s a fake” Lilith clenched her fist and Y/n rose up, gasping for air. “You think I would walk around it with around my neck ? I’m not stupid.”

Some demons grasped Y/n by her foot to tug down to the ground so they could put new chains around her. She couldn’t move, crying like she had never cried, not even as a child. She wasn’t crying for herself, she wouldn’t mind dying.

She was crying for Dean. Every single one of his cuts would be on her from now, every one of his lonely nights, of his fears and burns… For eternity.

On her.

Once the chains were secured the demons started dragging her to her new ‘room’.

“Oh and” Lilith started, the demons stopping at the sound of her voice, she looked down at Y/n laying chained on the floor, silent tears rolling down her face.

“I’ll take care of Mr. Winchester.”

Next Chapter in @roonyxx‘s blog

_________________________________

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365days365movies · 4 years ago

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January 16, 2021: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2014)

I am a massive comic book nerd. Not unusual these days, to be fair. But I’m definitely up there, as far as my obsession with Marvel and DC go. And, yeah, I stick mostly to those two houses, and their various imprints.

Why do I bring this up? Well...remember this movie?

Kick-Ass was a pretty big deal when it came out in 2010, as it was a Marvel Comics movie that was completely unrelated to the relatively new Marvel Cinematic Universe. Based of a 2008 comic book written by Mark Millar and drawn by John Romita Jr., the film was directed by Matthew Vaughn, and featured a more realistic take on how real-world superheroes would actually work.

Vaughn and Millar by this point at least, were friends. Around 2012, they’re getting drunk at a pub together, and talking movies. The topic of spy movies come up, and how there hasn’t really been a good, non-parody, fun spy movie, and that there should be. And that was the bulk of their conversation.

Enter Dave Gibbons, a legendary comic book artist, whom you may know from drawing the comic book that was turned into this:

Oh yeah, he’s a big deal. Gibbons and Millar end up getting together to write a fun spy comic book based on this idea. Vaughn, meanwhile, is getting ready to direct X-Men: Days of Future Past, the sequel to X-Men: First Class, which Vaughn directed. That’s a good movie, by the way, even if I have...issues...with the treatment of the X-Men in film. Maybe one day I’ll get into that, we’ll see what happens. Ask me about it if you’re curious.

Anyway, Millar goes to Vaughn with this script, and Vaughan looks at it and realizes that he needs to direct this movie before somebody else makes it. So he leaves Days of Future Past, and he signs on to...

I feel like it’s an obligation, as a comic book dude, to watch this film. I should also read the book, but I didn’t do that with Kick-Ass, so to hell with it! Let’s get this recap started! SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap

Starting off with some Money for Nothing, and somewhere in the Middle East, 1997! We go into a stone temple, where some kind of mission is taking place. A surprise grenade causes the loss of one of the agents. The surviving agents are Merlin (Mark Strong), Lancelot AKA James Spencer (Jack Davenport), and Galahad, AKA Harry Hart (Colin Firth).

Hart, feeling guilty over the death of this agent, tells his wife, Michelle (Samantha Womack) and child Eggsy (yes, Eggsy) of his sacrifice, and gives Eggsy a medal.

From there, we jump forward 17 years, to Argentina where...Mark Hamill?

Holy shit, it’s Mark Hamill! Apparently, he’s playing Professor James Arnold, and being held hostage by a group of mysterious men. Just then, he’s rescued by Lancelot, showing up with some classic James Bond-style swagger and asking for a cup of sugar, sardonically.

He kicks the asses of these guys, but is SLICED IN HALF BY A MAN WITH SWORD LEGS WHAT THE FUCK????

I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was watching the best thing I’ve ever goddamn seen. And as if that weren’t enough, she’s working for Samuel L. “Motherfucker” Jackson, playing Richmond Valentine. I am...I am so pleased.

We go to the Kingsmen headquarters, where Lancelot is being mourned by the Kingmen and their leader MICHAEL CAINE, REALLY, HOLY SHIT

Ahem. Sorry, uh...the star-studded cast has basically caused me to have a minor aneurysm. Caine plays Arthur, the leader of the Kingsmen. Get it? I can dig it, I’m a sucker for a good Arthurian reference. Anyway, now that Lancelot’s dead, it’s time to find a new candidate. Apparently, the man that died 17 years ago was part of an “experiment” by Hart, which Arthur says has failed. Galahad calls Arthur a snob, and says that they need to evolve with the times. \

Speaking of that former candidate, how’s his son doing?

Not stellar, it seems. His mom is dating a very unsavory gentleman, and not really taking good care of her youngest daughter. Eggsy (Taron Egerton), on the other hand, is a carefree delinquent. After engaging in an entertaining backwards car chase with the police (it’s cool), he gets arrested. He refuses to give up his friends, and he instead asks for a phone call.He looks at the medallion around his neck, and remembers that he can use the number of the back to contact someone for help. He uses a specific code phrase, but it appears not to have worked. But then, Eggsy is turned loose with little more than a phone call. That’s when Eggsy meets Hart.

We find out that Eggsy has a high IQ and Olympic-level athletics, but has dropped out of the Marines, and has been arrested for drugs and other illegal activities. After being read out by Hart, Eggsy goes on an anger-filled diatribe about the differences in privilege between the two of them. Although it’s short, it’s a powerful speech.

But that speech is interrupted by the owner of the car that Eggsy stole the previous night, as well as his gang. They’re yearning for a fight with Eggsy, and they threaten Hart. He doesn’t take that well, as he shuts the doors and windoes to the pub. Time to teach a lesson.

youtube

Yup, I’m giving this fight the posted video award. It might be short, but it’s also one of the best and coolest sequences I’ve ever seen in a spy movie. And OH, it’s giving me that gadget shit I was missing from the Bond movies.

After one of the most enjoyable fight sequences I’ve seen in a while, Eggsy’s understandably stunned. So is his stepfather Dean (Geoff Bell), the leader of the gang that Hart beat up in the pub. He’s not happy, and he beats Eggsy in their apartment, and that scene is...WHOOF. Much to their surprise, however, Hart’s left a device on Eggsy’s back. He threatens Dean through the device, and tells Eggsy to meet him at a tailor that he’d mentioned.

Once Eggsy escapes from Dean and the gang via nest parkour tricks, he makes his way to the tailor, where Hart officially brings him into the fold, giving him the opportunity to become a Kingsman. He exposits the history of the agency as a private group of spies, meant to protect the world while not bowing to the bureaucracy that plagues government-affiliated spy institutions.

We get to go to Kingsman Headquarters proper, and yeah...yeah, it’s cool. As compared to the other recruits, Eggsy’s pretty obviously out of place. This, of course, is part of the point, as Hart believes the Kingsmen could use someone with different life experiences and background. That would be the experiment mentioned earlier.

Eggsy’s competitors include Roxy (Sophie Cookson), who appears to actually be polite to him, unlike most of the potentials. They settle in for the night...but not for long. Their quarters fills with water, as the entirety of the Kingsmen head towards the showerheads and toilets for air. While they all succeed, Eggsy is the one who actually gets everyone out, by literally punching the window.

Unfortunately, for one of the candidates...it’s too late. These candidates could die in the hiring process. Rough.

Sadly, Mark Hamill also doesn’t quite make it, as Hart finds him, surprisingly freed from Valentine’s capture. As he’s questioned, Valentine is forced to kill him via Suicide Squad implant, and barely escaped from his men. Valentine and his henchwoman, Gazelle (Sofia Boutella) are trying to figure out who the Kingsmen are, to no avail at the moment.

Back with Merlin, who’s training the Kingsman candidates! They’re all told to get a puppy! Aw. Eggsy chooses J.B. a pug, under the mistaken impression that it’s a bulldog. And I’m not a pug person...but that puppy is cute as shit.

Time marches on, and the Kingsmen continue their training. Eggsy’s colleagues continue to discriminate against him, especially Charlie (Edward Holcroft). Hart, who was knocked out by the explosion, eventually wakes up. Valentine goes around to political leaders and proposes his plan to “save the world,” whatever that’s about to mean. Apparently, that includes giving the King of Sweden a surgical implant of some kind. Huh.

This, of course includes some, uh...conflict with Gazelle.

Awesome.

Eggsy’s in the final 6! As Hart congratulates him over this, we finally get some exposition on Richmond Valentine’s plan. See, that implant is the Suicide Squad bomb that killed Hamill, and Gazelle also has one. Additionally, he’s released a plan to the world that will provide free internet and phone data...forever. Not ominous at all, that.

After a cool skydiving training sequence, only three candidates are left. Hart, meanwhile, poses as a wealthy philanthropist, donating to Valentine’s cause. As a result, he’s treated to an extravagant dinner...of McDonald’s. Yes, it is the best product placement I’ve seen in a while, in case you were wondering. That reveal was hilarious.

Anyway, their conversation turns from talking about climate change studies and concerns, to their opinion of James Bond movies, in a lovely little piece of meta flavor. At this point, they would appear to understand each other’s role in the play, as it were. Forgot to mention, Valentine’s been kidnapping anyone who disagrees with his goals, while also distributing his free internet cards. So, there’s that. But he’s also trying to figure out what exactly the “Kingsmen” are. Speaking of...

Our three remaining Kingsman candidates are assigned a mission to seduce a young dignitary. However, all three of them make a mistake, and allow themselves to get drugged at a party, by someone wanting to know who Hart and Kingsmen are. When Eggsy wakes up, he’s been strapped to train tracks. Uh oh.

Despite an oncoming train, Eggsy doesn’t give the man any formation. Which, of course, was the point. It’s Hart, helping to give the Kingsman candidates a little loyalty test, which both Eggsy and Roxy pass with flying colors. But Charlie...Charlie’s a coward who immediately gives everything up, including Arthur himself.

Eggsy gets to spend 24 hours with Hart, before being thrown headfirst into a mission. Hart explains that being a Kingsman means being a gentleman, which Eggsy isn’t. Hart, of course, plans to fix that.

They head to the tailor, and check out some spy gadgets. And much to their surprise, Valentine is also there, under the guise of getting a suit. Hart takes the opportunity to recommend a hatter, who gives him a top hat with built in listening devices. I love it.

Eggsy, meanwhile, speaks with Arthur at Kingsman HQ. He’s commanded to perform one final test: kill his pug, J.B. Which...yeah, damn, that sucks. He doesn’t do it, understandably. Unfortunately...Roxy does kill her dog. She succeeds...and Eggsy’s kicked out of the Kingsman candidacy. Which feels like a bullshit play, if I’m honest.

Eggsy steals Arthur’s car, then goes back home. As he’s about to confront his stepfather, Hart brings back the car via remote access, then explains to Eggsy that the gun was filled with blanks, and that Eggsy ended up giving up his shot. He also reveals that the first candidate to die...didn’t actually die! It’s been a ruse all along, meant to test the candidates under the strictest of conditions. Which sucks, obviously, because Eggsy’s out of the program.

And at that point, Valentine says something of note, revealing that he plans to go to a hate church in Kentucky to begin his master plan. Hart heads there, and tells Eggsy to stay put.

We get treated to just...just the loveliest of sermons. Disgusting. But then...

...that’s the point, isn’t it?

Because Valentine uses the SIM cards to create a signal that drives the parishioners crazy. Hart’s also in the church, however, and he also starts going crazy. Which leaves the question: what happens when a highly trained spy goes up against untrained civilians, has a bunch of gadgets...and has absolutely no restraint whatsoever?

A MASSACRE, THAT’S WHAT HAPPENS. And most surprisingly, it’s a massacre that we actually SEE. Hart basically kills almost EVERYBODY in the church. I’ll put the video up, but...y’know, be warned here. It ain’t pretty.

youtube

Hart comes to, and realizes exactly what he’s done. He leaves, only to be confronted by Valentine and his men. The Bond metaphor finally comes full-circle, explained directly by Valentine. But instead of explaining his whole plan and devising some complicated way to kill Hart that he’ll inevitably escape from...

He just shoots Hart in the head. Holy shit. And this is while Merlin, Arthur, and yes, Eggsy watch on through Hart’s home feed. Looks like a new Kingsman is needed.

Arthur tells Merlin to assemble the Kingsmen. But Eggsy...Eggsy has other plans. Thinking on Hart’s words about wanting to do something good with his life. He goes to Arthur to talk to him about Hart’s death. Arthur invites him in for brandy. And that’s...when my mind exploded.

HE’S FUCKING IN ON IT?!? Michael Caine, NOOOO! Turns out that Valentine’s convinced Arthur of his true plan: a culling. He believes that the Earth’s temperature because there’s simply too much humanity, like a body trying to kill a virus. And so...he’s going to make the virus exterminate itself. And that argument’s enough to win Caine over.

Turns out that the implant is meant to protect those individuals against a neurological signal emitted by the SIM cards, the same one that went off in the church. Arthur, realizing that Eggsy understands exactly what’s going on, poisons him, then asks if he would like to join them. Eggsy refuses...and Arthur sets off the remote poison to kill him.

But NOPE! EGGSY SWITCHED THE FUCKIN’ GLASSES! I love this movie. Arthur dies, and Eggsy uses the opportunity to dig the implant from his neck. He takes that and Arthur’s phone to Merlin and Lancelot, who realize that they can’t trust anyone at this point. And so, the three of them - yes, the three of them - go to stop Valentine.

And, yeah...I can dig it. OH HOW I CAN DIG it.

Roxy goes up in an experimental vehicle to bring down the satellite, Merlin is flying the plane, and Eggsy...Eggsy’s the one going in disguised as Arthur, in order to infiltrate the mountain lair of Valentine. Here, he and the other beneficiaries wait it out, while the world literally tears itself apart. Now wearing a bespoke suit and playing the role of a gentleman, Eggsy enters the lion’s den.

But as expected, it’s time to hit some snags. Roxy waits juuuuuust a little too long, and one of the balloons in her craft pops. As for Eggsy, he meets an old “friend” of his in the form of Charlie, who’s now working for Valentine.

The missile’s fired just in time, as Charlie’s taken out and Eggsy runs for the plane. AWESOME climax here as Eggsy escapes. I mean it; it is VERY cool. They succeed JUST in time, and the satellite is destroyed. However, Valentine’s still managed to partially start the process, and they can’t do anything about that.

Eggsy’s gotta go BACK in, before Valentine gets another satellite to trigger the signal worldwide. Now armed with Hart’s AWESOME umbrella, he makes his way there under heavy gunshot. They’re also teaming up against Merlin in the plane, so he’s not doing great. And that when Eggsy has the idea...to turn the implants on. ALL of them.

youtube

It’s amazing. Violence in fireworks. So, it’s too bad that it doesn’t stop the signal. It works, and people start to tear each other apart all across the world. But only for was long as Valentine has his hands on the desk. Eggsy manages to stop that by laying down some suppressive fire.

That provokes a response.

..This movie is, for lack of a better term, fucking rad.

Gazelle and Eggsy have an awesome fight, worthy of any James Bond movie, seriously. I really want to give it the video post honor, but I’ve done that too much already. For god’s sake, I literally JUST did that.

Gazelle dies (it’s kinda goofy how she dies, if I’m honest), and Eggsy kills Valentine with her prosthetic leg. It’s over, as the signal ends, and Eggsy even gets the girl. Not Roxy, the Princess of Sweden. Not going into it, but it’s funny.

And that’s Kingsman: The Secret Service! Honestly, I gotta say, that was a rad-as-shit movie, and...

Ooh, a mid-credits scene! Eggsy goes back home, to the pub, where his stepfather and mom are hanging out with the gang. And let’s just say...Dean’s gonna get a little comeuppance. Manners, after all, maketh man.

OK, THAT’S Kingsman: The Secret Service! And that, again, was pretty rad. See you in the Epilogue in a few!

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dragons-bones · 4 years ago

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FFXIV Write Entry #28: Humiliations Galore

Prompt: irenic | Master Post | On AO3

This fill is partially in response to @ahlis-xiv‘s fill for ultracrepidarian, which you can read HERE! (And it goes without saying you should read her other fills and assorted writing, too!) The Ahlis mentioned herein, of course, belongs to her. \o/

Synnove felt her face twist into something foul and ugly and absolutely capable of curdling milk as she stared down at the letter on her desk. Halulu took one look at her and immediately fled back to the relative safety of her own office one floor down.

The envelope was fine vellum, waxed to protect its contents, tied with twine and the tie further sealed with wax. It was unremarkable, really, and appeared no different from any other important missive that Mealvaan’s Gate might receive from near and far.

Save for the seal of the University of Radz-at-Han pressed into the wax.

Synnove’s lip curled up in a sneer.

Mama, just open it, Galette sighed from her usual perch draped around her shoulders.

Synnove grimaced, but reached for the envelope and slid it closer to herself on the desk. She wedged her thumbnail beneath the wax seal and wiggled back and forth until it popped off, then slid the vellum from the twine and opened the flap. Reaching in, she pulled out two letters, folded over and individually sealed with different wax and stamps, at which she frowned.

And then raised her eyebrows as she noticed the thicker letter of the two, the one closed by deep red wax with a plain stamp, had writing in a very familiar hand on the outside.

READ THE OTHER ONE FIRST.

Now, what in the six hells was Thaisie Valeroyant up to?

Synnove stared with narrow, suspicious eyes at the letter from the Chair of the Department of Arcanima from the University of Radz-at-Han’s College of Mathematics, drumming her fingers on her desk for long moments as she mentally flicked through a list of possibilities. Finally, she let out a heavy sigh and scowled, snatching up the other letter, popping the wax seal, and unfolding it.

My dearest Mistress Greywolfe—

Synnove dropped the parchment, recoiling with a disgusted shriek. Galette HISSED, rising to a crouch as she bared her teeth and bristled her fur, tails lashing.

She knew that handwriting, knew that deep blue ink, knew that absolutely repulsive cologne that wafted into her face.

The first letter was in her hand in an instant, wax seal ripped off and parchment unfolded.

I promise, Synnove, the other letter is worth soiling your fingers and eyes.

Synnove ground her teeth, rage roiling through her, but she took a deep breath through her nose for a five count. Held it for another five count. Let it out with a final five count.

“Thaisie, you are going to owe me so much alcohol,” she muttered under her breath. She set down Thaisie’s letter and reached up to pet Galette, soothing them both for a few moments. Then, she picked up one of the half-sticks of graphite from the pile in the corner of her desk, and used it to poke the other letter flat, sneering as she did. Once that was done, she threw the graphite into her trash bin.

Finally, with a grimace, she leaned over her desk to read the letter from Bahram Zarir.

Synnove sat back after the first flowery paragraph and exchanged a confused look with Galette. “Did he actually…?”

I think so? Galette chittered, ears flat against her head.

They leaned forward again to read the next paragraph.

“…Ah. Never mind. He still, in fact, has his head shoved up his ass so far that the apple on his throat is actually his nose. Good gods, how as he gone this long without developing critical thinking skills, or the ability to remember what he wrote in a previous paragraph?”

She continued reading, occasionally muttering comments such as, “My gods, you absolutely disgusting piece of worm-ridden filth,” to which Galette snickered. Finally, she reached the end of the letter, and slid back into her chair.

And started giggling.

It evolved into a full body guffaw, rising from deep in her belly, and Synnove bent over as she howled with laughter, for so hard and so long it became silent heaving that shook her whole body. Galette sighed and rolled her eyes, holding on as her perch pitched to and fro. As Synnove finally calmed again, she brushed tears from her eyes.

“Oh, my gods, that was hilarious,” she wheezed. “Gods, I only hope I’m there on the day his hubris gets his sorry plagiarizing ass killed so I can laugh him all the way to the Hell of Water. What a cunt.”

Still chortling and catching her breath, Synnove carefully picked up Bahram Zarir’s letter with the very tip of her thumb and forefinger, and dumped it in the trash.

“Please remind me to get Ivar to burn that later,” she said, wiping her hand on her pants.

Yes, Mama!

Then, finally, she picked up Thaisie’s letter to read.

He really is such a prick, isn’t he? It’s a wonder he hasn’t become a victim of Thavnairian politics, but then he’s probably too thick to be a credible threat to any of his relatives or their myriad enemies. Just a shame we got stuck with him. I’m fairly certain the dean was dreaming about defenestrating him and a few other of the legacy children during the last open thesis read.

In any event, I thought you might enjoy the attached to make up for the toad’s sorry attempt at civility: a copy of the abstract for Master Zarir’s latest article. It’s still technically in peer review, but you’re a peer, as dirty as that no doubt makes you feel. Do what you will with this.

Also, yes, I know, I owe you alcohol. I already have a nice bottle of arak picked out for the next time Thubyrgeim allows you off your leash, or I’m able to attend a Lominsan conference.

Kisses!

Thaisie

“You’re such an asshole, Thaisie,” Synnove said fondly, shuffling the parchment to the second page. Zarir’s greatest weakness as a researcher was that frequently, he did have original ideas…but was frankly terrible at the execution and he outright stole others’ work in bits and pieces and tried to make a whole from it that fell apart if one breathed on it too hard. So, what trash was he on about now?

She read the abstract once. Blinked. Read it again, slower this time, than gave it a third pass.

Synnove set the parchment down flat on her desk, mind racing.

Zarir’s article was in peer review, and therefore it wasn’t public knowledge or in open circulation; the only individuals with copies would be Zarir, the reviewers, and Thaisie. He wouldn’t be able to add anything, with how the University handled its legacies’ attempts at academia, the peer review was mostly for show and the article would be published in the latest issue of their mathematics journal. There would be no turnaround time for Zarir.

And there was no way for anyone else to possibly know what he was publishing. Further, it was incredibly common for academics to hit on similar ideas and develop them in parallel without knowing until the other was published.

Zarir’s idea was similar to that of someone else’s here at the Gate. Oh, not hugely similar, but enough for the mainstays in the field to have a solid guess of which articles either had been reading and drawing inspiration from. But Ahlis had gone off in a completely different direction and what was more, her math was sound, the research actually done rather than theorized, and with a high chance of her succeeding and creating a new breakthrough in arcanima. And Ahlis’s work was ready for presentation at the upcoming research symposium. At which a few of the Hannish—not Zarir, if only because the dean didn’t want to deal with the political fallout of letting him set foot in Limsa Lominsa and the resulting murder—from the University would be attending.

Synnove smiled, slow and deliberate and sharklike, a dark chuckle rising in her throat, as she reached for a piece of fresh parchment and a graphite stick. She was quite thankful now that she hadn’t replied to Ahlis’s note just yet.

Ahlis,

I think you are more than ready! You’ve done your due diligence, even surpassed it, in laying your foundation. I still cannot find flaws in the theorems and equations you’ve laid out—your mathematics might need the occasional proofing, but your grasp of the principles is superb, and we’ve all needed a second set of eyes on our work when we’ve looked at the numbers for too long.

You are an excellent arcanist, Ahlis. As intimidating as it is to present research, the symposium presents a wonderful opportunity to receive feedback and collaborate on further avenues to explore your hypothesis. And, if word on the grapevine is true, I have no doubt your work will be leaving certain members of our community absolutely green with envy.

Give ‘em hell!

-Synnove

She signed with a flourish and folded the letter into neat thirds, wrote Ahlis’s name on it, and bound it with some of the leftover twine from Thaisie’s packet. “Amandina, Roksana,” she called out as she tied off the string, “would you like to run an errand for me?”

The twins poked their heads over the edge of their basket, the picture book they had been carefully pawing through forgotten. Their ears stood straight up, noses twitching in excitement—and then they were tumbling out of the basket and darting right for Synnove’s desk. Oh oh oh yes yes yes! they peeped excitedly. Errand errand errand we can do it!

The carbunclets skidded to a halt at their mama’s feet and looked up at her with huge eyes, their mass of tails shaking with excitement. Galette huffed, exasperated as always with their endless amounts of energy, but didn’t otherwise say anything as Synnove leaned over with the letter in hand.

“Do you remember where the Gate’s mailroom is?” she said, solemn.

Yeah!

The arcanist held out the letter, and Amandina very carefully accepted it, clamping down with her teeth to hold it firmly.

“Bring this down to the mailroom,” Synnove said, “and give it to Coster, and only Coster. He’ll make sure it’s delivered to its intended recipient! And then, once you’re done, come right back here, all right?”

Okay, Mommy! warbled Amandina, a determined set to her face.

We’ll be right back! said Roksana with a peppy chirp.

Then, rather than turn and trundle towards the door to her office, as Synnove thought they would, Roksana took one of Amandina’s ears into her mouth, and with a pop! of displaced air they were…gone.

Dead silence, as arcanist and carbuncle both stared, jaws hanging open, at the space the twins had been in just a few moments before.

“When did they learn to do that?” Synnove said, faint and bewildered.

I dunno. Galette tilted her head. Can I learn how to do that?

“Absolutely not, you’ll use it to break into the coldbox for my pies.”

Galette slumped into a full body sulk.

#ffxivwrite2020 #final fantasy xiv #oc: synnove greywolfe #synnove's carbuncles #other people's characters #ahlis ildilayan #dt's writing

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sakuwriteshere · 4 years ago

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Pretty Little Liar : Chapter 1

Summary: Dean Winchester and Y/N Y/L/N are roommates for less than 6 months. One day, after she’s back from work, Dean asks her to be his fake girlfriend in front of his mother. This story will follow them through their journey and Dean will learn how much a tiny, innocent lie can turns into the most beautiful thing in his life and turns into a real disaster the next second.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader (main), Arthur Ketch x Female!Reader

Other pairings: Sam Winchester x Jessica, John Winchester x Mary WInchester

General warnings (for the whole story): Fluff, comedy, angst, sexual innuedos, roommates AU

Beta reader: @irebloggbecauseiappreciateyou. A big thank you to Rosaline! She did an amazing work in a very short time. Thank you! 💖

Words count (this chapter): 4172

A/N: This mini-series is very dear to me, I like it a lot. I’m a huge fan of fake dating stories and I really wanted to write mine. I hope you’ll like it. Don’t hesitate to share your opinion about it, comments are LOVED! If you want to be tagged, just send me an ask 😉

This story will be updated every Wednesday!

PLL Masterlist

Main Masterlist

*******************

Chapter 1:

Have you ever realized how wonderful life is? Have you ever felt like nothing can stop you, that you’re at the top of the world? One day you’re waking up, like usual, feeling down and not in the mood to start another boring day but then something comes up and everything around you feels ten times better.

This is exactly how Y/N is feeling right now, bouncing down the streets, her steps light as a feather, feeling like she’s floating through the crowd. Today is the best day of her life despite how it had started. She hadn’t heard her alarm clock, waking up 30 minutes late and had to rush everything to be sure she wouldn’t be late. Of course in her hurry she spilled some hot coffee on her brand new baby blue shirt, burning the skin just over her right breast in the process, this stupid action resulting in making her later than she was already.

Once she finally arrives at the coffee shop, her boss is quite clear and loud about the fact that it would be the very first and last time she is late, next time she doesn’t even need to come in. Then the day passes like usual, slow at the first hours of work, then very busy and hectic from ten to twelve, and finally, Y/N can take a breather during lunchtime.

“Y/N?” Charlie’s voice makes her jump as she’s shaking the little bottle of dressing meant for her salad. “Someone’s asking for you.” The way Charlie stresses the ‘someone’ piqued Y/N’s interest. Her tone is only meant for one person, and in a second Y/N is a total mess.

She jumps to her feet, her hands flying at her hair, trying to rearrange the natural waves even though it doesn’t need rearrangement in the first place. Then her fingers fumble with the little pink and grey apron in front of her, a quick glance making sure it was still clean.

“How do I look?” Y/N asks Charlie, teeth sinking into her bottom lip, a nervous habit of her.

Charlie doesn’t check her attire, she knows that Y/N’s look is good, too good for the one waiting for her on the other side of the door, but Charlie is not going to tell her that again. Really, she can’t understand why her friend was so entranced with this guy. In her eyes, Y/N deserves better but you never choose the one you’re falling in love with, right?

“Ok…” Y/N takes a deep breath and puts her biggest smile on her face before walking into the shop. “Hello, Mr. Ketch, you’re asking for me?”

The man turns around when he hears her voice, the bored look on his face replaced by a charming smile and a wink as he leans his forearms on the counter, his eyes following Y/N’s like a hawk but says nothing as she comes closer.

“The usual?” She asks, a ready to go paper cup already in her hand, her eyes avoiding his, as she feels the blush covering her cheeks.

Ketch nods once and checks her out shamelessly once she has turned over, getting his tea ready.

“I know this is your break,” he finally says, his british accent giving Y/N goosebumps, she just loves that thick accent, it makes the butterflies in her stomach twirl even more. “But it would be a shame if my favorite barista isn’t the one serving me my tea.”

Y/N giggles at that while Charlie rolls her eyes with a shake of her head, then fakes a gag as her eyes make contact with Y/N’s. Y/N frowns discreetly at her, silently ordering the redhead girl to stop, she composes herself before turning around and handing Ketch his drink.

As her hand reaches the money he puts on the counter, Ketch stops her movement by grabbing it, surprising Y/N slightly at the unnecessary pressure.

“You. Me. Saturday night.” Ketch says, not an ounce of shame in his voice. “So? Yes or yes?” He adds, leaving no room for her to decline his offer.

Taken aback by him suddenly asking her out (it’s a date, right?), Y/N’s mouth opens but there’s no sound coming out. Charlie is praying with all her might for her friend to say no but only frowns when she hears her accepting.

Ketch’s smug smile grows bigger, his eyes roaming over her body one last time before he straightens up and takes his drink.

The bell over the main door dings as he opens it but doesn’t leave yet.

“Try a shorter skirt next time? I’m sure it will look lovely on you, Love.” He says loudly without even looking at her. Y/N’s cheeks grow hotter at the inappropriate comment and she lowers her eyes to avoid any customers’ eyes, her hands nervously clasped over her apron.

Truth to be told, Y/N is over the moon. She’s been waiting for this for so long! After three months, Ketch finally decided to ask her.

Charlie watches her coming back in the back room so she could finish her lunch, her arms folded over her chest and a shoulder resting against the doorframe.

“Are you really going?” She has to ask because Charlie can’t really understand how her friend finds him attractive. Given Charlie’s tastes are more the feminine type but she can still appreciate a man from time to time, and Arthur Ketch was anything but a man. In Charlie’s mind, he was more the Devil.

Y/N’s munching on her plain salad, swallowing her mouthful before answering. “Of course! I’ve been waiting for so long.”

Charlie sighs, unfolding her arms before walking closer and taking a seat next to her friend.

“I don’t know what you see in him, really.”

Y/N sighs, pushing her salad on the side, knowing another argument is coming she lost her appetite.

“First have you seen him? He’s handsome.” She pauses, hopeful that one fact was enough to end the argument. Charlie’s unimpressed face told Y/N she’s waiting for more facts. “Second, he seems interested in me.”

Another silence, shorter this time. “That’s it?” Charlie shrieks. “You’re not going to tell me it’s because he has a cute smile, or that you’re losing yourself in his eyes, or I don’t know...He has a great personality? Come on, Y/N there’s nothing here. You don’t even know him!”

“Well, that’s what dates are made for. You need to date someone to know that kind of thing.” Y/N shoots back, she’s so happy that Ketch finally asked her out, she’s not going to let Charlie's useless worries ruin it.

***

Once her shift is over, Y/N is walking back toward her apartment, feeling like she’s dreaming and making a mental note to check what she’s going to wear for her first date with Ketch. Her phone suddenly vibrates in her pocket, signaling her that she has a new message. Thinking of it, Ketch only gave her the day, not the time or even a place they are supposed to meet. Surely the message is from Ketch, giving her all the details she needs. As she taps on her screen and unlocks her phone, she wonders if he has her number. She doesn’t remember giving it to him.

The name on the screen tells her it’s not Ketch. She will have to wait for more details about the date. No, the one who texted her is only her roommate: Dean Winchester, and the message as short and dramatic as possible.

‘Need you ASAP. Life or death emergency.’

She reads the text and can’t help but roll her eyes. Y/N knows exactly what his emergency is, they ran out of beer. The previous message she had earlier that day was from Dean as well, asking her to buy beer on her way back from work. Well, she already got the beer, and texting him back with only one free hand was too troublesome, her place is only around the next corner anyway, the man will have his load of beer very soon.

Fighting with her keys in front of her door, Y/N curses quietly when she lets them fall on the wooden floor. As she bends down to pick up the keys, she startles when the door opens suddenly.

“Sweetheart! You’re finally here!” Dean’s unusual happy voice booms in her ears, surprising her. She never thought he would miss beer so much.

“Oh, and you even thought about the beer. You’re really perfect! Come in, let me help you with these, huh?” He adds, his voice level particularly high, she doesn’t know why.

Dean doesn’t give her the chance to think more as a hand circles her free wrist, pulling her with him into the little kitchen. She doesn’t even have the time to take off her shoes. As they cross the living room in a hurry, Y/N notices a woman sitting on the couch, she can’t see her face clearly because in a blink she’s standing behind the counter in the kitchen, Dean’s hands holding both arms in a death grip.

“Would you be my girlfriend?” He asks in a whisper, without even looking at her as he’s busy checking behind him.

“Wh-what?” Y/N stammers, her brain blanking out for a short second.

Dean doesn’t explain anything to her as the unknown woman from the living room enters the kitchen.

“Dean, sweety? Everything’s alright?” A blond, middle-aged woman asks, stopping at the kitchen door. The worry on her face subsides quickly and an enigmatic smile creps upon her lips when her eyes fall over Y/N.

“You must be Y/N.” She deduces as she comes closer to the counter and offers Y/N a hand. “I’m Mary Winchester. Dean’s mother.”

Y/N blinks, looking between Dean and Mary, before her brain registers the similarities between the two. Absentmindedly she shakes Mary’s hand loosely but remains silent, because what can she say? Once she had put a foot in her apartment her brain refused to function properly anymore, everything was happening too fast for her.

Seeing the distress on Y/N’s face, Mary gives her a reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry I’m not an overbearing mom and to tell you the truth I was leaving.” She tells Y/N before focusing on her son.

“Your dad is coming to pick me up in a few minutes, you know how impatient he can be.” She laughs quietly, leaning over Dean to kiss his cheek, then she looks at Y/N with a strange look on her face, as if she’s debating with herself.

“There’s no need to be shy, we’re family after all.” She announces, deciding to give Y/N a hug as a goodbye.

Mary readjusts the strap of her purse over her shoulder, looking at the both of them lovingly before walking towards the main door. “Don’t worry I know the way. See you on Friday, kids.” Her voice booms from the main entrance before the sound of the door closing resonates.

“Well,” Dean lets out a sigh, plunging his hands in his pants’ pocket, his gaze still fixed on the spot where his mother was a few seconds ago. “I think it went very well! Good job, Y/N!”

The strong clap on her back breaks out from her hazy mind and Y/N comes back to her senses.

“What the hell Dean?”

Dean doesn’t seem to be bothered by her outburst, shrugging he takes a beer bottle from the pack Y/N had just bought, uncaps it, and takes a long sip.

“Told you it was a life or death emergency.”

Y/N plants both of her hands on the counter separating them, looking at him angrily. They don’t know each other very well, being roommates for a bit less than six months.

Dean Winchester is a mysterious man for sure. He’s not very talkative but still polite. The kind of man wearing plain t-shirts, flannels and jeans but he’s also really tidy, maybe more than her. The only chaos Y/N seems to notice is his love life, or more precisely, his sex life. She has never seen so many different girls going through the walk of shame because of one guy only. Dean Winchester is a womanizer for sure, it’s easy to understand it just by looking at his ad when he was looking for a new roommate: ‘Non-smoking women only’. Usually, Y/N would ignore that kind of stupid ad but the location was only a 5 minutes walk from her future new job and the rent was really, really, really cheap. She had to at least check. Dean is one very handsome man, saying the contrary is a lie; light brown fluffy hair, a pair of vibrant green eyes, a body built with just the right amount of muscles, not too much or not enough, and a cute pair of bow legs. To make it short in three words: a greek god.

The apartment is really huge and Y/N has to make sure she read the rent correctly. Dean assured her that he doesn’t need a roommate actually, but he’s feeling lonely in the huge apartment since his little brother left him to go living with his girlfriend. They both agreed to keep it strictly platonic, two roommates, and nothing else, then Y/N moved in the next week. That was almost six months ago and until now, Dean has been the perfect roommate so far.

“Don’t let her fool you. My mom can be scary.” Dean assures her, her silence as she reminisces their first encounter making him uncomfortable. “She’s bugging me about dating someone all the time and this time I had enough, so I lied.”

She can understand him as she has the same problem with her mother, asking her again and again when Y/N will settle down for good, as if being in a relationship was the ultimate goal. Y/N sighs, taking a beer for herself and drinking a huge sip.

“I feel you, really, but lying is not the solution Dean. What will she say when you’ll show up alone the next time? Didn’t she say something about seeing you on Friday?” Y/N asks, taking a seat and nursing her beer.

Dean nods and mimics her from his side. “My parents' 40th anniversary. I’ll just say we broke up.” He shrugs, he hasn’t thought about it yet.

Y/N scoffs at that and shakes her head. “You just announced that you’re in a relationship and two days later you’re single again? She’ll see right through it.” She laughs some more, taking another sip.

“Or you could come with me? Dean asks suddenly, a smile curling up his plump lips, satisfied with his new plan.

Y/N is quick to react. “Oh hell no. No! I’m not lying to your parents on their wedding anniversary. No way.” She declares, standing up and walking into the living room, Dean following right behind.

“Y/N, please! I’m begging you!”

“No. Why don’t you ask one of your conquests?” She asks, crossing her arms upon her chest and letting her body fall heavily on the couch.

Dean chuckles and sits next to her, his knee bumping hers. “Because my Mom knows your face. It has to be you.” Seeing that she’s giving him the silent treatment, Dean adds “It’s just for the weekend, after that, I promise you we’ll break up!”

Her body’s wiggling slightly as Dean shakes her knees and Y/N thinking about it, because she never says no when someone asks for her help, she’s too stupid, she knows that. As she’s going to give in, the mention of the whole weekend feels like an electric shock.

“How long exactly?” She asks suspiciously.

Dean smirks a bit because he can feel she’s going to help him. She’s really a nice girl, he made the right choice choosing her as his roommate. “I’m leaving on Friday early in the morning and will come back by the end of Sunday.”

“Then sorry I can’t help.” Y/N’s resolute words resonate in the living room. “I have work and...something already planned on Saturday night.”

“I’ll take care of work!” Dean exclaims right away, making Y/N’s eyebrows furrow at his sudden confidence. Dean clears his throat “What are you doing on Saturday?”

This time it’s her turn to feel embarrassed by his question. Y/N braces herself, looking at anywhere but Dean as she mumbles inaudibly.

“I have a date.” She repeats a bit stronger after Dean says he didn’t hear her.

“Then postpone it.” Dean’s quick to reply back with a shrug of his shoulders as it’s not such a big deal.

“I’m not postponing it! I’ve been waiting for … quite some time.” She finishes her sentence in a lower voice, feeling stupid to justify herself.

“Who it is?” Dean sighs, running a hand in his hair as he’s thinking about another plan to explain why he’s single again.

“Ketch.” Y/N can’t stop herself from saying his name, a shy smile on her lips.

“Ketch?” Dean parrots the name that sounds familiar. “As Arthur Ketch?”

“You know him?”

“Yeah! Forget about postponing, Y/N, and simply cancel the date.” Dean advises her, his voice deeper as his concern grows. “He’s just trash. He’s a womanizer and you deserve better.”

Y/N stands up, defending her crush. “Like you’re better! Each day, there’s a new woman leaving your bedroom! Who do you think you are to tell me who I have can date or not?”

Dean’s mouth shuts tight at her anger. She is right, they are nothing special, only two roommates, not even friends, they barely know each other. His shoulders droop and he bites his inner cheek to prevent any more comment. Without saying anything Dean disappears into his own room, leaving her alone and bothered. She’s going to do just like him when the phone in the corner of the room starts ringing. With one last glance towards Dean’s closed door, Y/N picks up the phone and breathes deeply, soothing her nerves.

“Hello?” She says, forcing a smile.

“Y/N, dear?” Mary’s voice comes on the other side of the line. “Dean forgot to hand me my new passport, could you think about bringing it to me on Friday?”

“Y-yeah. Of course.” Y/N stammers distractedly, looking for the mentioned item and spotting it right on the coffee table. “I’m putting it in my purse right now so I don’t forget it.”

“Ah, such a smart girl! I knew my little Dean would find the perfect woman for him. Can’t wait to learn more about you. See you on Friday, sweety.” Mary’s delighted voice rings into Y/N’s ears, making her feel bad because she just lied a bit more.

“See you on Friday, Mrs. Winchester.”

***

The next day, Y/N’s in charge of the mid-day shift so she has time to sleep in. She’s only waking up because a delicious smell invades the apartment, taunting her nostrils even in her room. Her eyes flutter and Y/N groans as her stomach grumbles. Sleepily she emerges into the kitchen, bumping only twice on the walls on her way.

“Good morning.” Dean acknowledges her presence, a small smile on his lips as he sees her sleepy face.

“Morning.” Y/N yawns, dragging her feet on the wooden floor until she sits at the counter, her hands cradling her face. “Smells delicious.”

“This is an apology for yesterday,” Dean explains, pushing the scrambled eggs into two plates before throwing the pan into the sink. “So help yourself, we’ve got pancakes, eggs, bacon, french toast, coffee and fresh orange juice- I pressed it myself,” Dean says proudly before he sits opposite to her.

Y/N eyes fly over each item on the table, her stomach making more sounds as the different aromas mixed together, creating the perfect, delicious smell. In the end, she opts for a huge cup of coffee and french toast. Dean pushes the jar of jam towards her but she shakes her head no.

“You’re still mad at me, aren’t you?” Dean asks, fumbling his eggs with his fork.

“No, no.” She’s quick to reassure him. “I understand you meant well. You were a douche by doing it but still… I appreciate the concern.” She smiles and Dean gives it back.

They eat in a comfortable silence, the previous argument quickly forgotten. As she’s thinking about last night, Y/N remembers Mary’s call and the decision she has made.

“Your mom called yesterday, she forgot her passport.” Dean rolls his eyes, cursing about the stupid item, the one for which Mary came especially for. “I told her we would bring it back on Friday.” Y/N adds in a lower voice, unsure of Dean’s reaction.

“We?” Dean repeats, his head snapping at the implied meaning.

Stirring her coffee, Y/N shrugs nonchalantly, avoiding eye contact. “If I can change my shifts for this weekend and if I can postpone my date with Ketch, then I’ll come with you.” Once her explanation is over, she chances a glance at Dean who’s staring at her, a bit lost with her change of heart.

“I’m not making any promises.” She lowers her face again, finding her black coffee more interesting suddenly.

“Thank you.” She knows by the tone of voice it’s genuine.

***

Later that day, Y/N is anxiously waiting for her boss, asking for a change of shift isn’t a problem usually but since she came in late the day before, she’s not really on friendly terms with her. Anyways, she needs to take care of her date with Ketch first before any other change. Speaking of Ketch, the bell over the front door dings announcing a new customer, and exactly the one she was hoping for.

“Good afternoon Mr. Ketch.” She welcomes him cheerfully, her heart beating hard against her ribcage.

“A good afternoon indeed, love.” Ketch greets back, his gaze scanning the whole room before he looks at her.

Y/N doesn’t waste time to get his usual order reading, while the water fills the paper cup, she tries to think of a nice way to announce she’s not available on Saturday anymore.

“Um...Mr. Ketch, about Saturday…”

“What’s on Saturday?” Ketch hums absentmindedly, scrolling through his numerous messages on his phone.

“Uh...Our date?” She tries, blushing horribly.

“Hum? Oh right.” He stops for a short moment, reading a particular message, not even once does he look at her. After texting a short reply, Ketch tucks his phone in his inner pocket and grabs the paper cup that Y/N had just put in front of him.

“I’m being pretty busy so I have no choice but to cancel. Don’t worry, love, I’ll keep you informed when I’ll be available again.” His british accent is like a slap in her face.

“O- Ok.” Her voice is not above a whisper. She’s not even sure he had heard her but he left anyway.

Well...one problem down, another one left.

Once her boss finally came in and went straight for her personal office. Without wasting a second, Y/N knocks on her door and enters right away, that’s how her boss asks them to do, Y/N thinks it’s a strange habit but who is she to judge her boss.

“Rachel, I wanted to ask you if- I know it’s sudden but something came up and…. It’s a family thing you know? So I was wondering if I could have my weekend off? I’ll need Friday and Monday as well if possible? I know it’s a lot to ask and I will understand perfectly if you don’t…” The more she speaks the more flustered she gets, Y/N doesn’t even know what she's talking about anymore.

Fortunately for her, Rachel’s answer comes quickly. “Ok.”

“O-Ok? Really?” Y/N blinks, completely baffled with how easy it was. Surely there’s something more to it, it couldn’t be that easy.

“Yeah, ok.” Rachel reaffirms her previous statement, her eyes scanning the paper in front of her. When she notices that Y/N’s still here and doesn’t say anything, Rachel lowers her paper and stares at her employee.

“Business is slow right now. I think Charlie and Garth will be enough for a couple of days.” Y/N gauges Rachel’s reaction, but she seems sincere.

“Ok then...Thank you, Rachel.” Y/N takes her leave, her brain having a hard time to comprehend what the hell happened.

Well at least, there is nothing that prevents her from helping Dean with his little lie now. As she takes off her apron and folds it with care, Y/N thinks about the little getaway she’s going to, God knows she needs some fresh air and a few days to relax.

************

Pour Toujours tags: @drakelover78, @akshi8278

PLL tags: @eliwinchester99, @paiswhite, @vicmc624, @metalfangirl

#supernatural fanfiction #dean winchesterxreader #dean winchesterxyou #female!reader #roommates au #spn fanfiction #fake dating #reader insert #supernatural reader insert #series #pll series

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dlwritings · 4 years ago

Text

Firecracker Soul | Dean Winchester

Chapter 18 - Holly Berkley

pairing - mob!Dean x teacher!ofc

word count - 4,083

warnings - vomit

additional notes at the end

(previous)

Alice woke up and rubbed her eyes. She turned her head to look at the clock and saw that it was almost 6:00, so she rolled from her back to her side, only to have her stomach turn uncomfortably. She covered her mouth with her hand and rushed off to the bathroom. She barely got to the toilet before she spilled the contents of her stomach. She retched so hard that tears came to her eyes, and when she finally caught her breath, she slumped against the counter. There was a soft knock at the door, and Dean poked his head in. "Hey," he said, his eyebrows furrowed. "Are you okay?" She started to nod, but felt another wave of nausea come, so she leaned back over the toilet.

Dean crouched beside her and held her hair while rubbing her back. Alice took a deep breath and grabbed some toilet paper to wipe her mouth, then flushed the toilet. "Yeah," she said. "I guess I must've eaten something weird yesterday. Or maybe I'm coming down with something. I don't know." Dean put the back of his hand against her forehead.

"You don't feel warm," he said.

She sighed. "I feel like crap."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he said. "What can I do for you?"

"Nothing," she said with a dismissive shake of her head. "I'll just take it easy today. I gotta text Christine and tell her I can't make it this morning."

"Okay," Dean said, pushing some hair away from her forehead. "I have a meeting with Crowley and my people, but I can just push it to-"

"No, no, it's fine," she said. "Go. I can take care of myself."

"You shouldn't have to be alone when you're sick," he said.

"Seriously," she laughed, "I'm really okay. If I need something, I'll text you. Or Christine or, like, literally anyone. It's not like I haven't been sick before."

Dean sighed. "Alright. Whatever you say, sweetheart."

Alice fell back asleep after that and stayed asleep even after Dean left for the day at 10:30. When Alice woke up again, she found a note on the bedside table. I'll be gone most of the day. It's okay if you're not up for dinner tonight. Just rest up and I'll give you endless cuddles when I get home

She smiled at the note and put it down, then picked up her phone to check her notifications. She had gotten a response from Christine, a message from her group chat with her dads, and a notification from one of her apps.

Hey. Eve needs to know if 🌊 has hit. Please update!

Just like that, Alice felt sick again, but for a whole new reason. Her period was supposed to have hit -she checked the app- on Wednesday. She had taken the right pills, she was sure of it. The whole point of her birth control -in the beginning- had been to regulate her menstruation cycle. She had done it for enough years that she had the whole routine down pact.

Oh god.

"Okay," she mumbled, pushing herself out of bed, "be a grown-up. Handle this like a grown-up. What would a grown-up do right now?" She paused. "Go to the store and get a test. Get three tests. You're probably fine. You're on birth control, for God's sake. That's literally the whole point. Control births."

She changed into some clothes and headed off to the pharmacy, shaking the whole way there. She tried to play music that would calm her down, but she couldn't concentrate on anything except the fact that she was going to the pharmacy to determine whether or not she had a life inside her belly.

Yeah. Totally nothing to freak out about.

Alice was looking all around her as she headed into the store. She felt like she was on a secret mission or something. The last thing she wanted was for someone she knew to see her buying a pregnancy test. Scratch that. Three pregnancy tests.

She got them rung up as quickly as she could, asked the cashier to double bag it, and headed back to her apartment. She didn't want to get the results at Dean's place just in case he walked in for whatever reason while she was waiting.

She had to give herself another pep talk in the bathroom. "Okay," she said, unboxing each package. "Just pee. You pee all the time. This time you're just peeing on some sticks. Totally normal. Totally chill. You're just aiming your pee a little bit differently than you usually do."

She sat on the toilet and held each pregnancy tests in her hands. She got enough pee on the sticks and set them on the bathroom counter. Each stick took three minutes, so she set a timer on her phone and left the bathroom. A watched pee stick never turns negative.

When her phone beeped, her whole body froze up. She managed to shut off the timer and take a deep breath, then walked into the bathroom. She closed her eyes, took another deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth, and then opened her eyes.

She covered her mouth with her hand as tears welled up.

One test showed a set of double lines, another the word yes, and the last a simple plus sign.

"No," Alice muttered to herself. "No, no. That's not-" She cut herself off with a shake of her head. "Not possible."

That, of course, was the denial talking. One test could read a mistake, but three? Three were, well, she knew there was no use fighting the truth.

There was nothing remaining in her stomach, so she dry heaved into the toilet. Nerves rather than morning sickness, she was sure.

With shaking hands, Alice reached for her phone and called the first person she could think of. The line only rang a few times before she got sent to voicemail. "Hey, you've reached Christine, you know what to do-"

She didn't want to leave a message, so she just hung up. Only a few seconds later, her phone buzzed with a text from Christine: Sorry girl. Things are crazy over here today. Call you later?

Alice responded with a thumbs up, realizing that Christine must've picked up a shift at work since she couldn't make breakfast. If things were hectic there, of course she couldn't take a minute to receive this world-altering news. She turned her phone in her hands a few times, still trying to figure out what to do. She needed to talk to someone right then, and that someone couldn't be Dean. Or her dads.

Then, it hit her like a truck who she wanted to talk to.

Without even really thinking about it, Alice left her apartment and headed down to her Jeep. She drove through town for about ten minutes, stopped at a flower shop to pick up some yellow carnations, and a few minutes later, pulled up to the cemetery. She knew where the grave was like the back of her hand. She used to visit the site almost every week in high school, and even though she hadn't been there since she came back from college, she wasn't sure she'd ever forget exactly where it was: just under the largest oak tree.

She parked her car and walked over to the headstone.

Holly Berkley

1975-1998

Alice sat down and laid the flowers beside the headstone.

"Hi, Mom," she whispered. She crossed her legs and started picking at the grass. "I'm sorry I haven't come by in a while. When I got back from New York, I wasn't exactly in the right headspace, you know? And then I met Dean and-" She hesitated, shaking her head. "I guess I should fill you in, yeah?"

Alice wasn't sure why she felt so inclined to talk to her mom. It was like she said to Dean so long ago. She never felt like she was missing out on anything by not having a mom because she never met her in the first place. What she hadn't told him was that, for years, she had been making up for the lack of a mother by speaking to her this way. It wasn't much, but for her whole life, it was all she had. And she took it.

She talked to her mom for nearly a half hour and told her all about Greg and Lexi and Jess and Sam and Hannah and Castiel and Brent and filled her in on how Christine was doing and, finally, told her all about Dean. "I don't know what to do," she said, putting her hands on her stomach. "I don't know who to tell because I don't know how anyone's going to react. I-" Her voice cracked a bit as she hung her head. "I wish you were here. I wish you could tell me what it was like when you were pregnant with me and, and just tell me that everything's gonna be okay. Because I don't know if everything's gonna be okay, Mom."

Some tears escaped her eyes, and she pulled her cardigan sleeves over her hands. She heard some leaves crunching, so she wiped her tears and looked up, surprised to see Jess walking over to her. "I thought that was you," Jess said with a soft smile. Her smile dropped when she noticed Alice's tear stains. "I'm sorry," she said. "I can leave you-"

"No, no, it's fine," Alice said quickly. "I, actually, I don't know if I really want to be alone." Jess nodded in understanding and sat opposite Alice. She looked at the headstone and the flowers, deciding to wait and let Alice speak first.

"She died giving birth," Alice explained, picking at the grass again. "I guess it's weird that I come out here and talk to her because I never actually knew her."

"It's not weird," Jess said. She paused, then said, "I was just visiting my big brother. He died when he was seven. I was five. I don't even know what I'm supposed to say to him anymore, but I still talk to him sometimes." Alice nodded and pulled her legs up to her chest. When they were both quiet again, Alice let out a heavy sigh.

"I'm pregnant," she whispered. Jess looked up at her, trying to mask her shocked expression.

"Have you told Dean?" she asked. Alice shook her head no.

"I don't know how to," she told her. "It's not like we wanted a baby. We haven't even been together for two months. I feel like such an idiot."

"This stuff happens," Jess said. "And Dean's a good guy. He won't be upset."

"He'd have every right to be upset," she said. "I was the one who said he didn't have to wear a condom." She blurted the words out, but she didn't have it in her to be embarrassed. "I was so stupid. I thought the birth control would be enough, but I shouldn't have been so naive."

"It's just as much on him, Alice," Jess said. "He could've argued, but he didn't. This is not all on you."

"Jess," she said, hanging her head, "I'm so scared." Jess reached out and squeezed Alice's hand so she'd look up.

"Do you want to keep it?" she asked. Alice bit her upper lip and looked down at her stomach, putting her free hand on it.

"Yeah," she whispered. "I do." She looked up at Jess with wide eyes. "You can't tell him. Or Sam. Or Hannah or Cas or, or Lexi or anyone."

"I won't, I won't," Jess assured her. "It's okay. I won't."

Alice scoffed. "How long can I put this off?" Jess smiled softly.

"You obviously won't be able to hide it once you start to show," she said. "Depending on how far along you are, it could still be a while."

"I should probably go to the doctor, right?" she said.

"Yeah," Jess said. "I called my OB-GYN as soon as I got positive on my test." Alice chewed on her thumbnail, and Jess said her name softly so she'd look at her. "You know you have options, right?"

"Yeah," she whispered.

"You don't have to do this," she said. "If you're not ready or you just don't want to-"

"I know," she said. She scoffed a bit and shook her head. "I never, ever thought I'd have an accidental pregnancy," she said, "but if I did, I was sure I would get an abortion. I'm all pro-choice, but now-" She hadn't even realized her hand was still on her stomach, but Jess did. "-I don't want to. Like, that's a little bit of me in there that's going to grow into a person, and I want to see who that person becomes." She looked up at Jess with an embarrassed smile. "I sound crazy, don't I?"

"Not even a little bit," Jess said. "I get what you're saying."

"But, god," Alice continued, "I'm not ready to be a mother."

"Would you consider adoption?" she asked.

"Maybe," she said. "But I would still want to be part of the kid's life. Like, I wouldn't take away the fact that the adopted parents are its mom and dad, but I'd like to be there too from time to time."

Jess nodded. "I can be with you through all of this, if that makes you feel better." She chuckled. "Or I can walk away and pretend I don't know anything."

"No," Alice said. "I need help. I can't do this by myself. And Christine-" She sighed and shook her head. "I think I'd rather just wait until I've told Dean and everything makes sense before I tell her."

"If you're feeling hesitant," she said, "you can wait until the second trimester to tell family and friends. That's what a lot of people do, just because the first trimester is-" She cut herself off, but Alice knew what she was going to say.

"I know," she said. "Highest chance of miscarriage." Jess reached out and squeezed her hand again.

"It's gonna be okay, Alice," she said. "Whatever happens, it's gonna be okay."

Alice bit her upper lip and let out a sigh through her nose. "Do you think he's going to leave me?" she asked. Jess pressed her lips into a tight line, and Alice expected the worst, but Jess shook her head no.

"I don't think so," she said. "He's a good man, and he'll know that this is equally as much on him as it is on you. He'll be as involved or not involved as you want him to be."

"Okay," Alice said with another sigh.

They stayed in the middle of the cemetery while Alice called her doctor. She scheduled an appointment for the following Wednesday after school. Until then, Alice decided she would just have to put on a brave face and pretend like everything was okay. Hopefully her morning sickness wouldn't be too bad and she would be able to hide it all from Dean. "He's not the brightest bulb in the drawer," Jess teased. "He'll never notice."

Dean was not looking forward to his meeting with Crowley. He had gone through all possible options, and continuously came up empty. As much as he hated to admit it, Crowley was right. Their best option was to send in Jack.

With everyone -Dean's team and Crowley's- gathered in the bunker, Dean stood up. He was too tense to stay seated. He knew this would not go over well. Jack had already agreed to the idea, and it didn't matter what everyone else said, but they still all needed to know.

"Okay," Dean said, pacing around the table, "as you all -or most of you- know, Jack is Lucifer's son." A few people (mostly Crowley's people) looked in Jack's direction in shock, but everyone stayed silent. "We've been searching for a way to get Lucifer for a long time now, and none of our plans have worked. If I'm being honest, we're getting desperate. So-" He hesitated and let out a sigh. "-we have decided to send Jack in as a rat." Most everyone was silent, but a few others looked frustrated.

"You think that'll work?" one of Crowley's men asked. "You think Lucifer is that much of an idiot that he'd let him in?"

"Everyone has an achille's heel," Dean said. "Believe it or not, family is Lucifer's. If Jack says the right stuff when he meets up with him, I think he'll be desperate enough to believe him."

"How're you going to convince him to meet up?" Amara asked.

"Jack has contacted Lucifer personally," Dean said. "They're meeting up at his bar. Charlie is hoping to hack into the security system so we can see it all go down, because Jack can't wear a wire. It'll be one of the first things Lucifer checks for."

"And if Lucifer doesn't bite?" she continued.

"Or if he calls your bluff?" Bela added.

"If he doesn't bite," Dean said, "we're back to square one, but we'll handle it. If he calls our bluff-" He looked at Jack whose expression remained impassive. "-we'll handle that too."

When the meeting ended, Dean just wanted to go home. He didn't like leaving Alice alone when she was sick, and he knew she probably wanted cuddles.

Okay, maybe he wanted cuddles, but no way in hell would he admit that out loud.

He was stressed, and having Alice's arms around him, her fingers running through his hair, was like the world's best drug to him.

When he got home, he found Alice in the bedroom, practically in the exact same position he had left her, sound asleep. He tried to be quiet as he moved around the room, opening drawers so he could change out of his business clothes. He slid on some sweatpants and a t-shirt and crawled into bed beside Alice. He was able to reach the remote, so he flicked the TV on and kept it at a nearly silent volume, turning on the captions so he didn't wake Alice. She must've sensed his body beside her, because she rolled over and wrapped her arm around his stomach, tangling one of her legs with his. He thought for a moment that she had woken up, but the still steadiness of her breathing proved otherwise.

He picked out an episode of Scooby-Doo that was on Amazon Prime, knowing it was something he could watch without reacting too dramatically to it. He also knew Alice would make fun of him if she caught him watching it, but he didn't mind. Hell, she was the one who semi-regularly watched Disney movies.

Alice stirred about an hour later, and Dean looked down at her. "Mornin', sweetheart," he teased, kissing the top of her head. "How're you feeling?"

"Mm, better," she hummed. "What time is it?"

"Little after seven," he said. "Did you sleep all day?"

"Ha ha," she said back, snuggling closer to him. "No. I think I fell asleep around four or something. When did you get home?"

"About three episodes of Scooby-Doo ago."

Alice looked at the TV for the first time and laughed. "I haven't watched this in ages," she said. "I can't believe you watch this."

"Don't hate," Dean said.

"I'm not," she said. "I'm just saying." Her stomach grumbled then, and Dean chuckled.

"Hungry?" he asked.

"Apparently," she said. "Can we get pizza?"

"Sure," Dean said. "I'll order some right now." Dean grabbed his laptop and went to his favorite local pizza joint's website, ordering the pair of them a large pizza and some breadsticks. When he closed the laptop and put it back on the table, he looked at Alice with a soft smile. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she reached out and stroked his cheek.

"What's wrong?" she asked him.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Well," she said, "you told me I have a tell, and I realized you do too."

"Do I?" he said, somewhat amused.

"Mhm," she said. "When you smile -really smile- you get these little crinkles in the corner of your eyes. But when you're faking it-" She cut herself off and rubbed the corner of his eye with her thumb. "-they don't show. I don't see them now." Dean licked his lips and sighed.

"Just a stressful meeting," he said. "We're taking a risky move, and it's probably going to put one of my guys in danger."

"Who?" she asked.

"Jack?" Dean said, stating it as a question to see if she remembered the name.

"What's your plan?" she asked. Dean hesitated, not sure if he wanted to tell her the details of the job. When he looked down at her eyes again -soft, innocent, curious- he sighed.

"Jack's Lucifer's son," Dean said, "but they have no relationship at all. Jack lived with his mom until he was 16 and Lucifer killed her."

"Oh my god," Alice whispered. "That's horrible."

"Yeah," he said with a nod. "Lucifer was hoping by getting rid of Kelly -his mom- Jack would join his side. Instead, it completely backfired. He wanted revenge, and-" Dean scoffed. "-I'm in the business of helping people get revenge. Jack managed to track me down, and he asked if working for me would get him what he wanted."

"And what did he want?" Alice asked.

"To kill Lucifer," Dean said. She nodded, so Dean continued. "I told him it would take time, but that, yes, I could help him get some form of revenge. I didn't promise death, because I couldn't promise death. I didn't want to sign the kid up for something I couldn't guarantee. Still, he wanted in, so I let him. He didn't want Lucifer knowing he was working for me, so I promised him anonymity and safe residence at the bunker. The anonymity is important, because now, Jack's gonna go undercover in Lucifer's family. It never would've worked if Lucifer knew he worked for me. He'd ask too many questions that Jack wouldn't be able to lie his way through. So, we helped him come up with an entire fake life, and in a week, he's gonna meet with Lucifer and get on the inside."

"But you're worried," Alice deducted.

"I mean," Dean sighed, "yeah. Jack's a good kid, and if anything happened to him-" He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. "He's like another little brother. I'd never be able to forgive myself. I just hope Lucifer takes the bait and that Jack can keep up his cover."

"You don't think he can?" she asked.

"I think this is a big job to ask a 23-year-old to do," Dean said, "and once he's in, there's only so much I'll be able to do to protect him."

Alice was quiet, the hum of Scooby-Doo still playing in the background. "I wish I knew what to say to make you feel better," she finally said, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

Dean chuckled. "Don't worry about me."

"I always worry about you," she said. "And now I'm gonna worry about Jack. You're gonna kill me with all my worrying."

"Why're you worried about Jack?" he asked.

"Because he was nice to me," she said simply. "Not a lot of people were nice to me when I met them that day, and I don't want to lose one of them."

Alice lifted her chin so she could place a kiss to Dean's lips. "You're too sweet for your own good, you know that?" he said.

"I know," she said with a smile.

When the pizza arrived, they stayed in bed and ate the entire box between the two of them. Alice hadn't realized how hungry she was until she took the first bite of pizza. She was just glad she could keep it all down. Maybe the baby was hungry too. Did babies get hungry this early?

Early. She didn't even know how far along she was. Her first appointment was on Friday of the following week, and that was when she'd find out all that she needed to know.

Dean noticed the zoned out look in her eyes. She was looking at the TV but not really watching the Mystery Gang's shenanigans. "Hey," he said, nudging her shoulder. She shook her head and looked at him. "You good?"

"Yeah," she whispered, smiling up at him. "Perfect."

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

A/N - they never explicitly say how “old” Jack is in the show (I think at one point Dean says he’s born in 2000 but obvi he made that shit up) so I just picked 23

(next)

series masterlist found here

general masterlist found here

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

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myideascomingtrue · 4 years ago

Text

My Methodology: reflections and outcomes

A reflection of my practice in relation to the notion of practice as research, practice-based and practice-led research

I have two possibilities of projects to develop:

- Environment and nature documentary in a belonging perspective, using new technologies

Firstly, to develop my work in high technologies and make my ideas come true, regarding interactivity and belonging approach, I have to research how to manage the new technologies intended to be used at the final work. Then, the research-led practice has been crucial to understand how to present my work into augmented reality and virtual reality and the process behind it. The technologies involved and how to create work using “code language” into software are challenges I have to face.

Also, it is crucial to validate my ideas because another professional experience, computer science, is needed.

- Self-portrait as experience of belonging in a therapeutic approach.

It is a practice-led research method to validate my intuitions and inner experience using self-portraits.

When I started this research, I found very good information regarding the definition and differences between therapeutic photography and phototherapy.

Therapeutic photography is the use of photography as a means of therapy, without either intention or the guidance of a mental health professional.

Phototherapy is the use of photography by mental health professionals as a method or process of healing or auxiliary in the healing process.

Thus, I understand therapeutic photography as a practice-led research method and phototherapy a research-led practice method.

I agree that artistic research processes are often iterative or cyclic. In the Creative Arts, specially, when trying new methods of making art to achieve new results with or without previous experience by other artists and techniques not used before. That is the situation of my research for documentary in a belonging perspective, in which I must try new technologies. It involves also what is aesthetically feasible to present the final work.

For instance, I had an idea for holograms, but I was sure it was not feasible to work with it in photography due to the behaviour of the light. However, I needed to research and look for theories, to be sure. The same with augmented reality technologies, which is not just an embedded link to open a new photo or movie from the link or a QR Code. I am still trying and looking for the theories involved as well as Case Studies, and I already have some answers and options to try again.

Case studies have been important to validate some new techniques. Trying, testing and trying again is crucial to the research, using new techniques that haven’t been yet tried enough.

I use multiple methodologies in my research. I started it visiting some exhibitions in museums using, as a visitant, the Virtual Reality headset and augmented reality sensors and mobiles. It means the use of a Case Study combined with experimental studies and action research.

On both methods, survey could be also explored with participants, using questionnaires about the process of experiencing such activities.

Smith, H. and Dean, R.T. (editors), (2009), Practice-led Research, Research-led Practice in the Creative Arts, Edinburgh University Press

Photo: Flavia Mendes

The photo above was made as an experiment, in a park near my home, one day before the quarantine. I could not return to make new experiments, in order to develop new ideas before I went to the animal sanctuary for an initial photo session. I had to stop my experimental research due to the lockdown in my city.

Much contrast is needed into the use of augmented reality, according to my experimental process and to the information from a technology experts.

Also, software and expertise in computer code may be learned by photographers instead of delegating the postproduction to others in the editing process. That is something to research and to define.

References:

Photo therapy centre. PhotoTherapy & Therapeutic Photography Techniques – Photo-based Helping Techniques for Mental Health Professionals and others. Available at phototherapy-centre.com. [Accessed: 10 April 2021]

Smith, H. and Dean, R.T. (editors), (2009), Practice-led Research, Research-led Practice in the Creative Arts, Edinburgh University Press

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ltleflrt · 5 years ago

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Ltleflrt’s Writing Year in Review

Once again I felt like I could do more this year, so this is the theme for the decade. But I got SO MUCH DONE too! And more than I did last year, so I’m happy to see an improvement :D

Total 2019 Word Count: 215,491 Total 2019 Kudos: 7,581 Total 2019 Hits: 63,620

My 2019 Fics:

Dreaming in Digital: 173,818 words (44,142 from 2019)

When Dean finds a deactivated sex bot, he knows it’s his lucky day.

Set in a Cyberpunk world where global warming and climate change has driven most of the human population into domed cities, Sam and Dean hunt rogue tech and science experiments gone wrong in the shadows, protecting the lives of those the government doesn't care about anymore. On a trip to the dump to scavenge for valuables Dean finds Castiel, an Angel Industries sex bot, which is worth his weight in credits. But when he turns the sex bot on, he learns that Castiel is sentient.

Artificial Intelligence is illegal, and for good reason, but Cas doesn't put off dangerous vibes. That doesn't stop Sam from researching his creators while Dean's off making friends with the android. If there's someone out there creating a robot army unconstrained by the 3 rules of robotics, Sam's going to make sure the operation is shut down for good.

Castiel just wants to exist. He wants to read and work in the Winchester's greenhouse and have movie nights with Dean. But he also wants to understand. Himself. His unexpected reaction to Dean. What it it means to feel.

I started this fic in February 2018, and finished it in April 2019. As of this post, it is the longest thing I’ve ever written. And definitely the hardest thing I’ve ever written. You know that saying about blood, sweat, and tears? So true. (the blood was from a cat scratch when Kitty Cas tried to jump in my lap while I was writing and I got clawed, but it counts!) I am proud of the results, even if I got tired of it and cut out a bunch of stuff I wanted to do. 2020 goal is some timestamps!

Where The Heart Lives: 12,876 words

Home is where the heart is, but it's nice to have a cozy little love nest too.

A collection of related short ficlets without a plot. Just small glimpses of Dean and Castiel being happy and in love.

This was a 30 day art challenge called Cottagetober, that I turned into writing prompts and added a 31st day since it was an October thing and I wanted a ficlet for every day. Writing these fluffy snippets every day made me very happy, and I think I might do something similar in 2020 if I can find a list that sparks joy.

Reunited: 2,681 words

Castiel has changed a lot in the 10 years since he was a shy bookworm in High School. But it seems like few of his previous schoolmates have grown up much, if the revival of the rumor mill as soon as he walked in is any indication.

Dean Winchester certainly grew up, though. And he seems far more interested in Castiel than the rumors.

Written as a prompt from @melilovesmakeup-blog, this little fic spawned much joy, and inspired a prequel from @bendingsignpost, which is honestly so dang flattering. I love this little universe, and I’m heckin’ glad I randomly decided to take prompts.

Cloud Nine: 2,254 words

“Hey, angel.” Dean’s voice is warm with love and pride, and it makes Castiel squirm in his bindings. “You think you can take more?”

I love finding new ways to write non-traditional a/b/o! One day I was driving around, and thought you know what I need? Dom!Omega!Dean and sub!Alpha!Cas. Not a lot of it out there yet, so had to write it myself. And I really want to revisit this and write a prequel. I Have Ideas!

The Git (you) Up: 1,323 words

Dean's been crushing on his new neighbor across the street from afar. When he gets an invitation to a neighborhood BBQ, he's finally going to meet the hottie. Now if only he can get the courage to talk to him.

I saw a ridiculously cute video on the internet and I was inspired!

Burning For You: 1,998 words

Due to their busy schedules, Sam and Eileen hire a wedding planner. As Best Man, Dean steps in to help as much as he can. The fact that Castiel is gorgeous and immune to the dangers of Dean's touch is a bonus.

Another prompt! I do prompts like never, but I’m so glad I did and got this one. I had an immediate, and visceral need to write this fic as soon as I saw the ask, so thank you very much @alessariel! This prompt was for both of us! :D

To Build A Bower: 633 words

Dean decorates his home to attract a mate.

Look. Look. I just really fuckin’ love bower birds okay? Okay. Thanks for the prompt @zarauthforsaken!

Special Delivery: 2,012 words

Castiel accidentally gets a package meant for his sexy neighbor.

Another prompt! From @queenandthree <3

Fun story about this fic, the premise was originally going to be used in Satin and Sawdust, but got discarded. I’m thrilled I found a reason to use it in a short story!

Work Life Balance: 2,227 words

As leader of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse, one of Dean's duties is to balance Order with Entropy, and enforce the will of the Fates. When Castiel's nature as the demigod of War urges him to destroy more than he should, he seeks out Dean's council.

A prompt from @kazshero! I have had Four Horsemen headcanons for years, and could never come up with a story for it until I got this prompt. Super grateful for it! Death!Dean is my jam :D

The Menagerie: 1,452 words

Baby the Pegasus is giving birth to her first foal. Dean and Castiel are there to help her through it.

A prompt fill for @nickelkeep! An excuse to turn Baby into a pegasus! FLUFF! <3

A Trip To The Beach: 734 words

Camp Counselors Dean and Cas take the kids on a field trip to the beach.

Yes, this was definitely based on a conversation I had with @jupiterjames. When I got the prompt from my bestie, I *had* to make it about us lol

Quoth the... Wait that's not a Raven: 930 words

Dean, Castiel, and Sam are paranormal investigators. Tonight's haunted spot is a Pet Store.

A prompt from @purgatory-jar! And to be honest, I may revisit this idea with something longer someday. Writing TFW as paranormal investigators is too much fun to pass up :D

Hunter's Caress: 142,229 words (WIP)

Castiel Jameson won't rest until the outlaw who murdered his brother faces justice, and Dean Winchester is the only man alive who can help him track the villain down. Some say Winchester is a cold-blooded killer himself; others say he'd been wronged his whole life. All Castiel knows is that the desire glinting in Dean's green eyes is even more dangerous than he is. Castiel fights to keep his mind on business, but during the long nights on the trail with the dangerously handsome hunter he finds himself dreaming of yielding to Dean's illicit kisses and losing himself in lawless passion.

Dean Winchester is about to hang when Castiel saves his neck with his crazy plan. But dying might be better than spending day and night playing nursemaid to such an infuriating city slicker. He appreciates the stubborn detective's desire for justice, but he'd appreciate Cas a lot more if he'd stop being a lawman long enough to just be a man. He certainly has all the right equipment. Dean aches to run his fingers through Castiel's dark hair, yearns to know how Castiel's golden skin will feel against him. And before the coming of the next dawn, Dean vows to teach him the pleasures and sweet rewards of a Hunter's Caress.

I’ve had this idea since the first year I started writing Destiel fic, and it’s been sitting in my WIP folder since 2014. I don’t want to be done writing Destiel, but I’ve been struggling with my writing for about 2 years now, and I’m afraid it will only get worse when the show ends and the fandom starts to slow down without new content. I figure if I don’t do this story now, it’ll never get done. And that’s unacceptable, because this has been on my mind for far too long to let it never see the light of day. Of all of my stories, this one is the most For Myself thing I’ve ever written. And based on the way it’s going, it’s probably going to overtake Dreaming in Digital as my longest fic by the time it’s done lol

#oops i ficced #destiel #year in review #2019 year in review #long post for ts

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