#and deans like “whatever there’s roller coasters

[ubernatural]

Congratulations, now I’m crying.

I don't know if I've said it before but another thing that keeps haunting me is the fact that in the doomed plane episode in season 1, the guy who met John and Dean before says he knows who Sam is because John kept going on and on about how proud he was of his kid who got a full ride at Stanford. Like either it was geniune, and he was speaking proudly from the heart about his kid despite everything. Or it was to punish/placate Dean (with the subtext of 'unlike this son' or perhaps Dean had started to stick up for Sam - Dean was smiling throughout so I'm leaning towards the latter). Especially since the episode is one of the first Dean Is So Smart episodes. Or a mix of both perhaps. Or some other motive (to hide that he's got an abnormal family to a normie...?)

Just - how must it have felt for Sam to have spent YEARS thinking his dad hated everything he's ever accomplished to hear that. I don't have anything else to say about it it just keeps travelling across my brain.

[t0ast-ghost]

Hmmm mmmmmm I have so many boys thoughts and since I’m not sleeping tonight I guess I’ll write them down:

(Spoilers for the Boys season 4. Don’t cry over spoiled milk show! Go watch it for yourself)

- Truthfully I didn’t like Hughie in the second episode they just made him (super forcefully) bring up his mom. I did really like all his other bits though especially the stuff we’re getting into with a-train (really hope they actually go through with giving him plot, since he’s supposed to be the main character and all that or whatever)

- every time a character got close to another I legitimately asked if they were gonna kiss

- butcher is my wet cat sad puppy murdering babygirl, he’s slaying this season by actually communicating and I hope it stays that way

- This is the second time I’ve seen Jeffrey Dean Morgan play a horrible person willing to weaponize children for their cause… and he’s good at playing that part (I feel they gave his character a lot of what Butcher was in the comics)

- I really do like what they’re doing with A-Train

- I really do hate what they’re doing with Annie and Firecracker, I get they have to have personal conflict but this feels shallow and although it’s believable that this grudge would last I think there should have been more thought put into the stakes of their relationship (Curry and Moriaty’s acting was so good for the bit where Firecracker threatens her but the stakes are so low and the hatred in the writing doesn’t feel built up enough for her to have that big of a reaction to the threat)

- Going back to Hughie and his mom, I think Quaid’s acting for the bits with his mom were phenomenal, I could relate to his frustration and his sadness was palpable. I think a lot of their moments didn’t feel great and I couldn’t put my finger on it but the conversation about how her depression lead to her leaving felt like the truth finally came out and now it’s hopefully going to feel a bit more like things are moving forward for them

- I’m a little surprised they actually had a character like splinter. Simply because he felt straight out of the comics, and I know how much they’ve veered away from the comics. I really liked the scene where Butcher got to take out a bunch of them simply cause he got to be good ‘ol Billy Butcher

- Homelander has me on a roller coaster because I was going to write a post while watching about how they write him really well in a mindfuck kind of way because you slowly start realizing you’re relating to his character and you can understand his actions, and right before I wrote that post he told the deep to suck off a train and I stopped dead in my tracks. I was legitimately scared in that moment because that also felt like something out of the comics but the difference is that the tv show wouldn’t or at least didn’t go through with it

- Homelander this season is even more brilliantly acted, and seeing him with Sage is a new interesting experience. I was trying to figure out Sage’s motivations and I thought I knew but really I didn’t know because I was trying to say she was fighting for a cause. That is wrong. She is constantly manipulating the people around her but it is solely to benefit herself and her happiness. Yes, she helps Homelander and is honest with him because that is the best way to keep herself happy and alive. She’s smart enough to know that manipulating him or trying to agree with everything he says will be a dead end. She’s still trying to please him and is ultimately playing by his rules but she’s the smartest player because she knows being inauthentic will only end up losing you power, and if you’re on the end of two hot glowing red orbs anyway, why not at least have an actual say

- The gore is going well so far. I’ve appreciated it. Especially the beetlejuice-esque scene where Kimiko has her face torn off and you only see the back of her head and the reactions

- Ryan has so many good scenes. His scenes with Homelander are punctuated by quiet, you can hear every thought screaming through, but what would saying any of it actually accomplish? His scenes with Butcher are so heartfelt, I’m glad they’re finally able to talk. But Ryan still dealing with his grief and guilt is heartbreaking. And on top of that him thinking that the closest person to his mom seemingly hates him and would never want him adds so much to the emotional confusion that he’s experiencing. He obviously needs to leave Homelander, but he still doesn’t want to leave his dad which makes sense because this is currently the only source of love he has from anyone and it was promised unconditionally (even though it is very conditional)

- Frechie’s gotta tell that guy that he killed his family but I was really glad they gave him a boyfriend. I forgot that him and Kimiko weren’t a thing so I got really excited that Frenchie was getting to be awesome and polyamorous. I am glad that Kimiko has asserted that they are friends tho

- I am so intrigued by the brain worm

Thoughts upon second rewatch:

- Opening could’ve been bloodier or more horrific. They toned it down :( but the flesh and blood melting off that guys face was pretty good. And the Todd scene is pretty horrific.

- The way Ryan and Homelander speak in unison about people being ants is so telling, and makes sense with the later context of Homelander wanting Ryan to be an exact replica of himself

- The way that Ryan in this season is so focussed on fear, because he is scared but the people around him won’t admit to that, so when Butcher finally communicates with him and tells him that he’s most afraid of dying without making amends I think that finally gains Ryan’s trust back

- They really are changing Butcher’s character, he’s not just ‘do thing to get thing and it’s justified by the end result’ he’s finally thinking about the people around him and considering them even if the results aren’t fast. He doesn’t give the info to Vick, he doesn’t drug Ryan, and he’s really trying to help even if he is still being a shit about it

- The talk between Vick and Homelander in the opening is sooooo good cause of HL’s little voice crack, he’s losing it

- KIMIKO PAINTS HER NAILS!!! they’re blue :)

- I feel like Hughie’s hatred towards Vicky is forced upon him. Like I guess he hates that she lied to him (but if he thought about it he’d realize that it’s reasonable for her to want to hide her powers especially since she’s been shamed about them for most of her life) and I get they have very different views with her under vought’s thumb and all. But since they’re recruiting A-Train I’m wondering if there’ll ever be a bit of a redemption for her cause I feel like wanting supes to be allowed to live like normal people is not a bad thing, it’s just that she’s working with people who view supes as superior

- “He killed that poor cunt in broad daylight, and they fucking cheered.” Alongside Homelanders “I save people, they cheer. I fucking kill people, they cheer.” is like, they both understand this fact. Homelander will get what he wants no matter what and Billy wants to take him down a notch. Same as always and yet so many changes.

- I missed that the acid that Hughie threw on Vick was Frenchie’s creation the first time around. Also missed Hughie’s failed pep talk, I love that loser. I didn’t miss that no one else is able to understand Kimiko, which sucks

- I want Karl Urban and Simon Pegg to be in the same room again but that’s just my star trek fan talking

- Is that the first time Hughie and Butcher properly hug in the series?

- There’s a weird obsession with phones this season. Especially with hanging up on people. Also an obsession with “no/yes, sirs” which I think is them upping the show of power dynamics

- I thought that octopus sounded familiar. It’s Tilda Fucking Swinton.

- “He always knew he was destined for greatness, because he came from greatness.” Good job guys. I see your little joke

- I did not notice that all the guys setting up Firecracker’s stage were splinter who is played by Rob Benedict (Chuck in Supernatural)

- One of the background noises at the Truthcon mentions an “Alex Jones look alike contest”

- When Ryan throws Koi against the wall in other shows that would be his turning point. The point in which there’s no going back for him. So I’m really glad that it’s just the point in which he needs to talk to someone, that it really does upset him. Unfortunately he goes from one horribly emotionally repressed man to a slightly less emotionally repressed man who is dying

- I hope whoever that person that Kimiko knows turns into a new found family member

- M. M slowly realizing why Butcher was such a bitch to everyone on the team. And it’s because no one listens. Ever. Unless you’re actively threatening them in one way or another

- I don’t know what that bloody metal rod in Sage’s room means even after a rewatch. So I guess I’ll find out.

- Closing thoughts; bring in more A-Train and Hughie moments (also get people to call him Reggie so I don’t have to write A-Train every time)

Hughie has weed in his desk

If y’all wanna talk about this with me (especially after reading all that) feel free to do so

Uhhh more thoughts here

[idontgetanysleep]

Random questions and tag your buddies!

thanks @freesia-writes for the tag! <3

What is your personality type? (Enneagram or Meyers-Briggs or DISC or whatever you like!) i’m sorry but i have no idea what these are 😭 imma skip

What car would you like to own, if money were no issues? dean’s 67 chevy impala from supernatural 😏

Describe your highschool self in five words? anxious, emo (💀), quiet, lived off of music, obsessive (still am)

What environment is your favorite and makes you feel most at home? A coffee shop, a forest, the Swiss mountains, home with friends, etc? i love to be on campus working on projects with my classmates, or in my room listening to my vinyl collection and making art :)

Describe your perspective on life in five words? uphill battle, roller coaster, enjoy the little things, creative, educational

Which traits would make up the ideal best friend for you and why? i have an amazing best friend and she is so kind, social (so i don’t have to be), open minded, fucking hilarious, is an amazing listener, very accepting even if she doesn’t understand, and the devil on my shoulder (in the best way possible) <3

What is something in life that you get a disproportionate delight from? adding shit to my room! i am a maximalism and my walls and part of my ceiling are covered in dope shit, being an art major i get handed prints of my peers art and it goes straight up on my wall, i love it sm

tags: @blueink-bluesoul @cloneloverrrrr @dukeoftheblackstar @mschiefmanagxd @galaxyofjedi @sunkissedclones @wolffegirlsunite @merkitty49

if you have already participated or don’t want to feel free to ignore my tag! <3

[peacespun]

obligatory, hello i love you ask, because I need to just sit here and talk about how amazing you are. starting from the beginning, can you believe it's almost been 12 years since we've known each other and how much we've grown together. I remember when we first started talking, you wrote me a starter that i NEVER replied to and then I messaged you like, hey so........ plotting instead please. and I picked abraham for dean and its been a very happy roller-coaster of plots, and characters and blogs and we've just been inseparable since. you've stuck by me for so long, through all my ups and downs, all my rants, all my mental health crisis, not once have you treated me differently because of it, you've always treated me with the utmost respect and have been nothing but my rock for so long. I can't imagine my time on here without you, I can't imagine my time offline without you even though we're still slowly getting to moving in together part but we'll get there. literally happy almost three year anniversary 💚💙💜

taps the mic like -- ahem..... warning: being sappy on the main !!

my darling!!! these messages honestly always make me start to get emotional on main because gOD-- i'm ridiculously in love with you, you have no idea. you have easily become the light in my life, and sometimes its so wild to think about how i've had you, my light, for almost 3 years. crazier to know that we've known each other for basically 12 years. thats INSANE!!

time is going by so fast and yet, still not quite fast enough to get to the moments we want to get to. they always say "patience is a virtue" and "good things come to those who are willing to wait for them," but god if i'm not attempting to will the clock to spin just a liiiitle bit faster so that 1) i can see you again, and 2) that we can finally be together and move in and have our own place !!!

you have no idea the impact you've had on my life just within these twelve years alone. you have completely changed my life for the better. knowing you has made me a better person, through and through. knowing you has allowed me to understand so much about myself, believe it or not, and about us, and then how to support you in nearly every avenue you need. mentally, emotionally, through rants: good, bad, and purely out of excitement (those are the most adorable btw for peoples that don't know it yet, just you wait).

you've taught me so much without ever realizing it. and it might be HELLA cheesy of me to say this but i haven't been as awake as i feel that i am now with you in my life. i see in color now. there's so much i understand and makes sense with you. i notice and learn new things with you every day, and i truly cannot wait to experience that for, god willing, so many more years.

i've said it multiple times before but having you in my life, especially in the way i've gotten to love you these last few years, has totally changed my life and it will never stop. even long down the road, wherever we are, you are going to be the one thing that makes sense.

you are my sunshine, my north star. my cutie lil future man! i am forever grateful to the shy girl that literally got so nervous when she first followed you that she'd actually closed the laptop and threw it to the other end of the bed because the idea of you following me back was bonkers to me then. i'm forever grateful to her and forever grateful to whatever nonsense it was that made you, the bestest bean, to follow me back. those kids had no idea back then.

i love you so so so so much, my darling!!! forever and always. 💜💚💙

tl;dr:

[aew-kun-age-regression]

1. Oneshots

2. I start with an idea and then just go from there.

3. There isn't one I just am given an idea or I think of an idea and then force myself to eventually write it.

4. Things that happen to me or random ideas that I come up with 🤷‍♀️ /any requests I get.

5. I do like it, I think it is an important part of writing however I am sensitive and so depending on how its worked I can get upset.

6. Sometimes I let one of my friends read it before I post however I don't do this often.

7. I don't 😂 I just write and whatever happens happens, pov's change quite a bit in my fics and I hardly even noticed I've changed perspective.

8. I prefer the middle as by that point I'm into the flow of writing and am starting to get ideas.

9. I comment on some stories I read but I generally just revlog stories as I feel awkward.

10. I don't even understand lol :)

11. 3 Favorite fics:

Baby Scarab by @80pairsofcrocs

Long Distance by @sfwregressionfanfictions

Little Scarab by @lokislittlemidgardian

12. Feedback helps me improve my writing.

13. "Write what you know" - don't push myself to write something that I can't, it's not worth the stress.

14. I use personal experiences, I struggle to write or read angst however I can do it. However I do struggle to regulate on what point is too much.

15. I don't write any NSFW so I don't write smut 🙅

16. I have a Caregiver!Dean fic currently in the works, I can't give any more info as I don't know what I'm doing with it yet 😂 I just know the character I'm doing.

17. I don't write, eventually I will be back and be able to write again. Sometimes if I've been away for too long I will just force myself to write, one of my friends is very good at giving me random bursts of motivation.

18. I title them afterwards as they generally end up different from what they were originally supposed to be. I link them to what happens in the story.

19. Age regression/de ageing.

20. I don't know how to explain it but my writing stays the same and there is a clear pattern in my writing.

21. I would if I knew how or anyone that wanted to.

22. I won't write any NSFW, I don't write anything to do with cheating on someone ever. I tend to not be able to write angst, I can only write hurt comfort. (Most fics I write are age regression based)

23. If its not making you happy, take a break.

24. If someone tells you they don't like how your writing then just stop and quit and move onto a new hobby. (You should never let anyone dictate what you do and don't do <3)

25. This one -> Means the world to me.. (This was quite hard as I am very happy with how most of my fics have done, I am very lucky to be part of such wonderful fandoms.)

26. This one -> What was your favourite part..

(This was based on a bad day out that I had and this is basically what happened exactly, without the comfort aspect. So I think this was a roller coaster of emotions)

27. My favourite part of writing is being able to create content for people to enjoy. My least favourite part of writing is when I struggle to think of an certain word and then I can't move on until I think of the word.

28. I generally write a fic within a day or two so normally I write a fic or half a fic a day.

29. Non existent tbh.

30. I wait till its all polished however that my polished is most likely the same quality of most others rough drafts.

31. Plot, and them from there I choose characters based on who I think works best with the plot (unless it's a request where they only tell me a character what they want rather than a plot and then I reverse the process.)

32. 3 Favourite fanfic writers:

@lokislittlemidgardian

@honeybeewritings

@jjtheresidentbaby

33. Yes I do, for ages growing up I wanted to be an author and I'd still love that.

34. With probably not much changing 😂 maybe my vocabulary and structure gets a bit better within 5 years.

35. A villain is just a person, in their story who is the villain. Perspectives are important.

36. I don't :)

37. Not really sure, I guess when I feel that an event had finished and the next thing is going to happen..?

38. Maybe?

39. I don't really have any atm 💀

40. This one -> Mini Winchester (I was really happy with the idea and I would love to see fanart of it tbh. Reality is I just want to see regression fanart XD)

41. I reread fics SO OFTEN 😂 I used to only read once and now I just go back to my favourites repeatedly.

42. The last fic I read was -> Baby Scarab (I was actually rereading it for I think the 4th time now lol) I definitely recommend it as it is amazing however it is important to read the warnings on each chapter!!

43. Second option, I can only do hurt comfort 😂 I can't stand just angst towards my favourite characters :(

44. ✨ Spelling ✨ (it's always been really bad)

45. Make them laugh.

46. Plot driven.

47. Like 6 times and then another 4 after I post it 😂 I always get a bad feeling that I've made loads of mistakes (normally I have made a few lol.)

48. I don't.

49. Sometimes I tend to just delete them. I don't need that negativity.

50. My longest fic was 14,000 ish words (and no its not posted on here 😂)

51. Not sure

52. I do as I love to interact with people who have taken the time to comment on my content.

53. I started as just a reader and then I found that in some fandoms I'm in we were lacking in content so I started to make some and now I'm 50/50.

54. When I finally start to get into the flow of writing and it becomes easy as I know what I want to write.

55. Currently my favourite character I have written for is a tie between Castiel and Gabriel, however my followers favourite seems to be Snape :)

56. I come up with or use decent plots.

57. As I write, I cant move on if k notice something is wrong.

58. Brainstorming.

59. Yes, however family knows I write but not what I write and my 2 favourite friends follow me on here <3

60. I have not.

61. So small fandoms I'm in have content amd I enjoy writing.

62. Love and hate them.

63. Don't read or write it.

64. ^

65. The Dean fanfic request I got :)

66. I honestly just shut down as I get overwhelmed.

67. Prompts.

68. Content for small fandoms.

69. This one -> its okay baby.. (It was my first age regression fic and it shows)

70. Enthusiastic to say I write, embarrassed to say what I write as I don't want people to judge or misunderstand.

71. I don't I just wait and see what happens.

72. Chronological I think?

73. Nothing 😂

74. I often project how I speak onto certain characters.

75. Writing the meltdown for -> Loud (As I was having a meltdown whilst trying to write it)

76. Literally all of my fics have scenes that don't make it in.

77. Not really.

Get to know your fic writer!

Do you prefer writing one-shots or multi-chaptered fics?

Do you plan each chapter ahead or write as you go?

Describe the creative process of writing a chapter/fic

Where do you find inspiration for new ideas?

Do you like constructive criticism?

Do you have your work beta'd? How important is this to your process?

How do you choose which POV to write from?

Do you prefer the beginning, middle, or end of a story?

Do you comment on stories you read?

Cltr+f "blinks" on your WIP & copy paste the first sentence/paragraph that comes up

Link your three favorite fics right now

how does receiving or not receiving feedback/support impact you?

what’s a common writing tip that you almost always follow?

how do you write emotional scenes? Do you ever feel what the characters feel? Do you draw from personal experiences?

How do you write smut scenes? Do you get very visual or detailed? How important is it to be realistic?

How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?

What do you do when writing becomes difficult? (maybe a lack of inspiration or writers block)

Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?

What is the most-used tag on your ao3?

Have you noticed any patterns in your fics? Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?

Would you ever collaborate with another writer for a story?

Are there certain types of writing you won’t do? (style, pov, genre, tropes, etc)

Best writing advice for other writers?

Worst writing advice anyone ever gave you?

What fic do you wish you got more of a response on?

Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

What is your most and least favorite part of writing?

On average, how much writing do you get done in a day?

What’s your revision or editing process like?

Do you share rough drafts or do you wait until it’s all polished?

Do you start with the characters or the plot when writing?

Name three of your favorite fanfic writers.

Do you want to be published some day?

Five years from now, where do you see yourself as a writer?

What is one essential thing to remember when writing a villain? 

How do you write kissing scenes?

How do you choose where to end a chapter?

Would you ever write commissions?

Share a snippet from a WIP

If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?

Do you tend to reread fics or are you a one-and-done kind of person?

What’s the last fic you read? Do you recommend it?

Do you take a sadistic joy in whumping your characters, or are you more the "If you hurt them I would kill everyone and then myself" kind of person?

What mistakes do you keep making no matter how many times your beta corrects you?

Do you want to break your readers‘ heart or make them laugh?

How would you describe your style? (Character/emotion/action-driven, etc)

How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

What do you look for in a beta?

Do you ever get rude reviews and how do you deal with them?

How long is your longest fic?

What’s your total AO3 word count?

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

How do you spend your time when it comes to fanfiction? Are you primarily a fic reader, writer, or a perfect 50/50 split of both?

What’s your favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

Of the characters you write for, which is your favorite? Has that choice been swayed at all by your followers/readers’ reactions to certain ones?

What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?

Do you prefer editing as you write, or waiting until it’s finished? 

What part of the writing process do you enjoy the most? (Brainstorming, outlining, writing, editing, etc) 

Does anyone in your personal life know you write fic? if not, would you tell anyone?

Have you had a writer you admire comment on your fic? What was that like?

Why do you continue writing fics?

Thoughts on cliffhangers?

Something you hate to see in smut.

Something you love to see in smut.

Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

How do you deal with writing pressure (ie. pressure to update, negative comments, deadlines, etc.)?

Do you prefer prompts and challenges, or completely independent ideas?

What, if anything, do you do for inspiration?

What work of yours, if any, are you the most embarrassed about existing?

When asked, are you embarrassed or enthusiastic to tell people that you write?

When it comes to more complicated narratives, how do you keep track of outlines, characters, development, timeline, ect.?

What order do you write in? front of book to back? chronological? favorite scenes first? something else?

What do you think makes your writing stand out from other works?

You’ve posted a fic anonymously. How would someone be able to guess that you’d written it?

What scene in [Fanfic Name] took the longest to write? What was difficult about it? 

Did you have any ideas that didn’t make the final cut of [Fanfic Name]? 

Do you have a favorite scene you’ve written from [Fanfic Name] story/chapter? 

[jumblejen]

We Were Always Going to End Up Together - Ch 14

Suptober 22, Day 14: All for You

On AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42237885/chapters/111764911

(Or read from the beginning: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42237885/chapters/106051008)

Dean woke to the sounds of Cas snoring lightly in an unfamiliar bedroom. He smiled to himself, watching Cas’ face. Last night had been a roller coaster of emotions with the unexpected appearance of Benny. Now that the shock of seeing him at all had worn off, Dean couldn’t wait to catch up with him about what he’d been up to. Clearly his life had involved some interesting revelations if Benny was now comfortable not only getting dressed up as the Vampire Queen, but performing as her publicly. There had to be at least a little bit of a journey there. In a small way, Dean was jealous of Benny. Dean couldn’t imagine going from being a burly chef in a restaurant to being the Vampire Queen. What would Sam say about something like that? As much as he loved his brother, Dean had no doubt that he would have quite a bit to say about the Vampire Queen, and none of it particularly nice.

Cas slept on, something ethereal in his features the way the thin winter light streamed through the curtains and onto his sleeping face. Dean had loved how hungry Cas had been last night. Sure, they still had to talk about Benny and whatever else that brought up for both of them. Dean didn’t think Cas was jealous exactly, but he sure enjoyed Cas staking his claim last night.

Dean stared at the ceiling, thinking. He really did need to introduce Cas into the rest of his life. Charlie would probably be best friends with him within seconds, and Eileen would no doubt be fine. But Sam? Dean hated that his brother had so much trouble with seeing the good in the people Dean dated. He’d made mistakes, sure, but Dean wasn’t stupid. Everything about Cas felt right, felt good. Sam would want to fixate on the fact that Dean had no idea what Cas did for a living, on the fact that whatever it was, it was sure to be less respectable than what fit into Sam’s exacting standards. Dean didn’t care about any of that. Not really. Certainly Cas hadn’t made any requests for money or anything that made Dean feel uncomfortable. Maybe renting out a field so your cousin can run a crop maze paid really well. Well, if they had some sort of heart to heart where they vomited up all the secret things they were hiding, maybe Dean could figure out what it was Cas did for money and then they could strategize about Cas meeting Sam.

No, that was crap. Dean loved spending time with Cas, loved how well they fit together. He had no intention of letting Sam ruin another relationship. There wasn’t any room for his judgement between Dean and Cas. Sam would just have to ask his questions and cope with the answers like a grown up. And while he was at it, Dean was done acting like he wasn’t still friends with Benny around Sam. If Sam had something shitty to say about the Vampire Queen, or Benny, Dean wasn’t interested in hearing it. Maybe he could talk Eileen into explaining things to Sam on his behalf. Cas was worth it. Hell, Benny was probably worth it too all those years ago. He couldn’t turn back the clock but he absolutely could make sure he didn’t let any of that old bullshit interfere with his relationship now. Especially when he was pretty sure he was falling in love with Cas.

It was a startling thought. Dean rolled it around in his head a few times but couldn’t see anything wrong with the thought. No. He absolutely was falling in love with Cas. And just maybe Cas was falling in love with him too. That seemed a little far-fetched, but Dean would try to believe it could happen.

With a grin practically splitting his face in two, Dean shook Cas awake, which turned out to be more than a little difficult. “Cas, wake up.”

“Why?”

“’Cause.”

“What.”

“Just wake up already.”

Blearily Cas rolled over to face Dean, his eyes barely open. “Dean. Why?”

“I really like you.”

“I really like you too. Can I sleep now?”

“I really, really like you.”

“I like you too.”

“Cas.”

“Why do you sound like a pop song?”

“I do not.”

“Yes you do. That one that came on the radio the other day. I think she sang more ‘reallys’ though.”

 “Whatever.” Dean laid on his side, looking at Cas, still grinning.

“You’re very happy and awake.”

“Yeah.”

“What’s going on?”

“I just like you.”

“You really really really really really really like me?”

The deadpan look Cas gave him as he said that cracked Dean up. “Want me to make pancakes?”

“It’s my house. I think I’m supposed to cook for you.”

“Do you want to make me pancakes?”

“You can make pancakes.”

“Wanna come help or are you trapped in the bed?”

The barest hint of a smile graced Cas’ face. “I can get up.”

Dean practically bounded out of bed. His whole chest felt like a giant weight had been removed. Was this falling in love? Was it just love, flat-out? Dean didn’t care. He was too happy in this moment to care. Everything else would sort itself out later. Dean rooted around in his duffel bag until he found clean clothes to throw on.

Cas followed Dean more sedately, pulling on sweats and a tshirt. Dean tried not to let his thoughts turn lascivious as he watched the fabric cover up his skin. Right. Pancakes.

They made their way downstairs, Dean eager as a puppy, Cas silently bemused by Dean’s enthusiasm. Dean hummed to himself as he started opening cabinets and searching through drawers in the kitchen to find what he needed. Cas retrieved eggs and milk from the fridge as Dean found the other ingredients and began to throw together the batter from memory.

Pancakes were cheap and usually pretty filling. Sure, they lacked protein, but Dean had been making pancakes since he was big enough to see into the pan on the stove. Dad wasn’t good at making sure his kids were fed, but Dean was usually up for the challenge. He learned to stretch that dollar at the store into as many filling meals as he could before he hit double digits. The key was to not draw attention to yourself while shopping. If he was too rowdy, people start looking for the grownup you belong to. Too poised, and they start noticing and remembering you and that could lead to all sorts of trouble. No, Dean knew how to charm cashier’s with a smile, knew how to answer probing questions with ‘Dad’s waiting in the car – upset stomach’, and knew just how many things he could slip into his pockets under his coat before he aroused suspicion. In and out and no one asks any more questions.

Despite pancakes being wrapped up in Dean’s shitty early years, they hadn’t earned the same flinching reaction as most of the other reminders of that time in their lives. No, there was something pure about pancakes.

The first stack done, Dean placed them in front of Cas at the table where he sat nursing a fresh cup of coffee. “Eat up while they’re hot!” exclaimed Dean with a waggle of his eyebrows.

“Aren’t you going to have pancakes?”

“Yeah, they’re cooking now. These are all for you.”

“Dean this is too many pancakes.”

Dean laughed and turned back to the pan.

“Dean this is too many pancakes.”

“No such thing, Cas.”

After making his own stack of pancakes, Dean took a seat next to Cas. Digging in, Cas made just as many groany happy noises as Dean, who grinned around a mouth full of pancake. He could get used to this, the peace, the domesticity, the company.

Conversation resumed as the pace of their eating slowed. Mostly just general chit chat until Cas pushed away his mostly empty plate and turned serious eyes to Dean. “What did you want to tell me about Benny?”

Dean swallowed. “He and I are friends. And exes. He looks like a bear with a sore tooth…well, I guess he didn’t last night, but he’s a little grumpy, a little rough around the edges. We had a blast together.”

“Then you broke up?”

Dean sighed heavily. “I wish it was that simple. That one of us got restless and decided to move on. No, I introduced Benny to Sam.”

“Sam disapproved?”

“Yeah.”

“Because Benny was a man?”

“Not exactly. I mean, maybe a little, it’s hard to tell with Sam sometimes. But with Benny…Sam never thought he was good enough for me. Partly because Benny changed jobs a lot, partly because he wasn’t college educated. But mostly, he didn’t like Benny and thought he was a bad influence or something.”

“Was he right?”

“I don’t think so. Didn’t matter though. Came down to a choice between Benny and Sam, and I didn’t have the slightest clue how to really make that choice. Which was my way of choosing, I suppose. Benny left town and Sam’s still Sam.”

“But you stayed in touch?”

“A little at first. Got a text saying he’s moved to Louisiana. That he found a place to stay he liked. Then that he got a sous chef job at an amazing restaurant. I almost got in the car to go try it out, but somehow never did. Was too busy making some truly poor choices. Benny talked me through the aftermath of some of those. I got used to him being a voice on the phone or a text at odd hours. Seeing him last night… I can’t quite describe how unprepared I was.”

Cas smiled softly. “That part you don’t have to explain. Your face said quite a lot. I was concerned for a moment that he was someone who had hurt you.”

“Nah. He could have. Could have called me names and chewed me out for how I couldn’t stand up to Sam, but he never did. He’d get this sad, wistful look on his face. Would’ve hurt less if he’d yelled.”

“But you’re really just friends now?”

“Yeah, Cas. We’re friends. And I hope that doesn’t bother you.”

“No. I knowingly introduced you to Meg, so accidentally meeting Benny is reasonable.”

“She’s certainly something.”

“You didn’t like her?”

“Funny enough, I think I did like her. But she’s kinda a lot to take.”

Cas smiled more fully. “I thought she was going to start salivating over the tension in the air.”

“Dude, I think she was.”

The two laughed a little at that. Meg’s needling had been a bit much in the moment, but Dean saw how it was funny in retrospect. Hell, if their roles had been reversed, Dean couldn’t swear he wouldn’t be the same. She was prickly and sarcastic and Dean thought maybe he could have a lot of fun verbally sparring with her.

“So what about you Cas? Any chance you’ll have random exes pop out of the woodwork the next time we go out?”

Cas smiled. “I don’t think any of them live locally. But then again, you had no idea that Benny had moved back. I guess time will tell.”

“Good to know.”

Dean gathered the dishes to carry them to the sink. Cas gently pushed Dean out of the way as he started doing dishes. “You cooked. I wash up.”

“It’s no trouble man.”

“My house. You can stay and talk to me though.”

Dean hoisted himself up to sit on one of the counters, trying not to swing his feet against the cabinets below. “Whaddya wanna talk about?”

“I think I want to meet Sam.”

“Okay. I can see when it’s a good time. Do you want something quiet, like a meal at Sam’s house, or public place?”

“Hmmm. Public. The Roadhouse?”

“What night?”

“Whatever works for you and Sam.” “Okay, I’ll text him. Going to invite his girlfriend Eileen too. She’s awesome. You’ll like her.” Dean made a note to text Sam later. No sense rushing to do it now when he had a handsome boyfriend to enjoy.

[gayconfessioncas]

7

[justjensenanddean]

Jensen Ackles, Charlotte Convention, November 7, 2021, Main Panel.

[x]

.@JensenAckles gets a call from @DanneelHarris (x)

Jensen asked if any fans there under age of 15 - says "cool. you weren't born when we started." (x)

jensen's heaven would look like a waterpark HAHAHAH  (x)

Jensen says a water park. A giant wave pool, inner tube ride that never ends. A heavenly themed theme parks all day. That moment when you go up the roller coaster and before you drop - right there. heaven.  (x)

Not sure I got the question - does Dean still want to kill monsters for adrenaline Heaven? Jensen says Dean thrived on hunting.  (x)

A male fan - "I have never been so weak in the knees to talk to another man."  (x)

jensen doesn't necessarily have favourite episodes but instead favourite moments.  (x)

Favorite episode? Jensen: “The barn scene in the finale. It’s one of those moments that leave a mark on your soul”  (x)

Fan says Dead to Rights is her favorite song - MINE TOO - but tells Jensen she doesn't know what it's about and asks Jensen. He says he doesn't know because Steve wrote most of that one. #spncharlotte  (x)

Jensen said he was genuinely shocked at a fan who transformed into Baby. It was a cosplay from the weekend. #spncharlotte  (x)

A fan talking about the perspective of family don't end in blood.  Jensen says it is a central theme to the show and also what surrounds the show - this, he says of fandom family.  (x)

Jensen: “This show is something that has brought us all together and has become a tent pole of this family. And it’s something we’ve all embraced ourselves.”  (x)

He says shooting 12 to 18 hours a week is taxing. Jensen mentions they worked in a closed down mine - no sunlight or air. It was an odd experience. About My Bloody Valentine (x)

Jensen: Someone out there has Dean’s Original jacket and Original John’s Journal and are livin there best life…..(x)

Jensen - pay attention to those around you. He sought out people he admired their talent but also their work ethic and emulate it. #spncharlotte (x)

Jensen says when he started Supernatural he had done numerous projects but he was still learning. And asked a lot of question - why using that lens, why moving that light? #spncharlotte  (x)

Jensen tells story about picking kids up from school with Danneel. Says a teen was walking and he thought she was having a seizure. But then realized she was using her phone. Danneel says "she's influencing" - walking down the street doing something crazy and looking like a fool (x)

Q: reshoot an episode? Jensen doesn't even let her finish the question before saying "Bugs" They talk about shooting Bugs & they were told to stay calm, but the action required them to swat at the bees & use a fake flame thrower against them The bees didn't show on camera (x)

Pick an episode to reshoot. Jensen says Bugs before the question isn't even finished. "I would redo bugs in a way that it didn't even happen."  (x)

They are talking about the 60,000 live bees and being stung. And in the end they used VFX. #spncharlotte (x)

Jensen also says the scream in Yellow Fever - "that would be nice to have back." (x)

He shows what he would have done, there is silence. No scream. #spncharlotte (x)

Jensen also holds off on an inappropriate comment - keeping it PG. (x)  Now 16 year old asks a question. Jensen - see? I made the right choice.(x)

Fan asks Jensen about being a cheerleader and if he still knows any moves "because I'd love to see some."  (x)  Jensen says whatever you want to call it. We'll go with cheerleader. We were the guys that rans the flags across the field when they scored a touchdown and rang a giant bell. That was extent of responsibilities. And they got front row seats. (x)  He said running with the flag was hard. One other responsibility in the club was to escort the captain's of the drill team over to the other side to meet the other captains of the other drill team and all of the women. (x)  Jensen says real Texas - polos and khakis. That was the extent of my cheerleading career and I don't know where my khakis are. (x)

Danneel has said to Jensen in multiple occasions "your Dean is showing"  (x)

Did your time on Supernatural prepare you for Batman.  Jensen says yes because he actively tried to destroy his vocal chords on Supernatural for 15 years and that voice was a big reason hired for the Batman role.  (x)

And Jensen starts singing Oh Susannah because the fan is named Susannah. #spncharlotte  (x)

Question about if Dean and Sam being in a classic horror film.  Jensen says Michael from Halloween always looks like the easiest one to off. He just walks around slowly. (x)  Fan says she would send them after Freddy Kreuger. (x)

[x]  

[zepskies]

Thank you so much for absolutely making my day, lovely!! 🥹🥹 But you don't have to be sad that you finished the main series -- there are quite a few additional stories within this BMD-verse. They're all in chronological order on the Break Me Down Masterlist.

(And I'm actually working on another BMD story right now.)

your portrait of ben is COMPLETELY ACCURATE AND SWEET AND HOT AND WONDERFUL!!!!! and not only ben, I must add. ALL the characters are completely true to the TV show. butcher, hughie, annie, m.m, frenchie, grace, LITERALLY FUCKING ALL OF THEM!

That's an amazing compliment!! 🥰 I love this show so much and all the cast, I rewatched several episodes to try to make sure that I could get their "voices" and mannerisms as authentic as possible.

their development was so well-written and the additional characters you created are perfect and completely relevant to the story.

Developing the "enemies to lovers" trope in this kind of story was a new challenge for me. At times it felt like playing chess with myself, ngl. 🤣 But it's very fun to write the "anger and arguing turns to romantic passion" roller coaster that was Ben and the reader's relationship from beginning to end.

I also had a great time writing the side characters in this story (Frank, Loco, Louisa, etc.). With Frank and Loco especially, they felt intrinsic to the narrative as I was developing it, and the reader and Ben couldn't have made it to the end without them. While Louisa I felt was part of what made the reader her, so to speak. She's a driving motivation for a lot of the reader's choices.

plus, the fight scenes literally had me on the edge of my bed, biting my nails to see what would happen next.

You know, fight scenes are one of the types of scenes that are more difficult for me, so that's really amazing to hear! 😂

THIS IS A COMPLETE MASTERPIECE!!! I genuinely can't wait for whatever your next story is. in the meanwhile, I'm definitely gonna read everything you've ever wrote! 😂 YOUR STORY IS PERFECT!! (AND I LOVE YOU BEN 😭❤️‍🔥)

You make me blush, thank you so much again, hun! 🥹💕 I genuinely was figuring out how to write Solder Boy/Ben as I went along, based on similar "John Wayne"-esque characters and what we got to see of his characterization in the show. It was a hell of a time. 😂

As for my next story, I have the very last chapter of And So It Goes (Billy Butcher x OFC) coming on Friday.

Then on Sunday, I've got a story coming for a series of one-shots called the Midnight Espresso-verse (Dean Winchester x Reader).

Again, I'm so glad you had a great time reading BMD! Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me. 💚

Break Me Down - The Epilogue

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

AN: This chapter is set about a month before "Love Actually." So...are you ready?

Song Inspo: For this last chapter, it’s “The Book of Love” by Peter Gabriel. (It’s just lovely. I listened to it while writing the second half of the epilogue!)

Word Count: 7,800 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Violence and peril, angst, familiar bickering, smutty smut, bit of breeding kink, tender fluff, hurt/comfort, and an ending…

Epilogue: All My Living Time

“I’m not fucking around,” he said. “I want you to live with me.” 

Your smile was soft and bright when you took his hand. Ben wouldn’t admit it, but something in his chest stuttered to life then.

“Okay,” you said with a nod. “Let’s do it.”

Six months later…

You were frustrated with your roommate.

And yes, you used the word roommate, because he hadn’t seen fit to give it any other label.

You stewed in your irritation as you also stirred the beginnings of chicken tortilla soup. It was early in the morning before work, and Yvette had been teaching you how to master the crockpot. Hopefully, by the time you and Ben got home tonight, it would be ready and waiting for dinner.

Six months. You had to nag him about cabinets left open, dirty boots left right in front of the door to your shared apartment, and hell, actually going to his therapy sessions.

While that last one had taken months of convincing and cajoling, he’d caved when you suggested that acknowledging and dealing with what happened to him in Russia might help him control the nuclear power inside him. And maybe, just maybe, they wouldn’t have to patch another hole in the ceiling.

Mind you, he wouldn’t actually talk to said therapist about anything related to his PTSD. But at least he was going. And the therapist was apparently getting an earful of Ben’s celebrity encounters, with all the explicit, gushy details.

However, even with all of this, it also sometimes felt like you were an in-house maid rather than a partner.

The latest reason for your frustration returned to you when Ben strolled into the kitchen in search of coffee. He wasn’t yet dressed for work in his supe suit; instead, still in the plain shirt and sweatpants he’d slept in.

He glanced at you, and seeming to sense your mood, he kept to himself as he found his usual mug and poured a cup of steaming French press in silence.

You took in a breath, trying to calm yourself. Maybe he’d had time to sleep on it. You closed the crockpot and went over to him. Your hand on his arm made him pause.

“Hey,” you said, “have you thought about what I asked you last night?”

Ben’s expression remained flat. “I think I already said my piece on that.”

You sighed.

“Why is dinner with my family such a hard thing for you?” you asked. Your brows furrowed. “My sister’s starting to warm up to you! And Mom just wants to get to know you. What’s the problem?”

Ben scoffed. “Your sister fucking hates me.”

You bit your lip. He wasn’t totally wrong, but in fairness, Louisa wasn’t happy to learn about why you’d nearly died in the hospital, when Vought Tower collapsed.

She thought you needed therapy for an egregious case of Stockholm Syndrome. But the more Ben worked with Supe Affairs, helping to clear the streets of out-of-control supes and cleaning up the remains of Vought, you were slowly getting Louisa to come around.

“She just needs time to get to know you too,” you said.

Ben wasn’t having it though. He rolled his eyes and tried to walk away from you with his coffee and a newspaper—aiming to get to his favorite lounge chair in the living room. It was the way he always started his morning, like the old man he was.

You followed him.

“Come on, one dinner won’t kill you,” you said. “And by the way, neither would moving your dirty-ass boots out of the doorway.”

You went over to grab said boots, and in your annoyance, you all but tossed them into the hall. Ben frowned at you, throwing down the newspaper onto the coffee table.

“Why’re you nagging me like a goddamn wife?” he snapped.

“Wife?” you scoffed, crossing your arms. “You don’t even call me your girlfriend.”

But God forbid another man even smile in your direction. Ben was possessive, protective, and claimed with all but words that you were his. And yet, he wouldn’t say it.

You shouldn’t have been surprised that he was afraid of commitment, but you’d been living together for six damn months. Almost seven, if you counted the safe house.

When you found this nice, but cozy apartment in Scarsdale, you’d sat him down at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, like the two of you used to in that house in Medellin.

And you established the ground rules before you two officially moved in together: 

First, an exclusive relationship meant exclusive. Meaning no fucking around. (He’d raised a brow at you.)

Second, you were his partner, not his slave. You expected him to carry his hefty weight, not only in the relationship, but around the house. (He’d most definitely rolled his eyes at that.)

And finally, don’t be an asshole, you’d decreed. “Be honest when you’re not feeling right about something. But don’t be a dick about it.” 

That cut both ways, of course, just like the other two rules. He’d agreed to all of these, albeit begrudgingly. You hadn’t really known then if he meant it.

And now, looking at him, you still had no idea if he was trying, or if he was just tired of being alone…and if you were just a convenient bedwarmer. You bit your lip once again, this time with a growing fear blooming anxiety in your chest.

“Do you even love me?” you asked.

Ben blinked down at you, and his lips pulled into a deep frown.

“Stop fucking around,” he said.

“I’m serious,” you insisted. Your crossed arms tightened, as if to protect yourself from what he might say. “You’ve never said it once.”

“And the fact that I agreed to live in this mediocre fucking apartment doesn’t mean anything?” he said, gesturing around him with a hand. “I take you out, I buy you shit. Matter of fact, I fucking spoil you.”

“And you take off whenever you feel like it, especially after missions,” you shot back. “Sometimes I don’t know where the hell you’ve gone for hours. For all I know, you’re out there doing blow with a caravan of strippers!”

While that did sound like a damn good time, that hadn’t been Ben’s M.O. in recent months. And in his mind, you should’ve known better.

“I haven’t fucked anyone but you since we moved in here,” he snapped.

Even longer than that, if he was honest. 

Meanwhile, you wanted to trust his words, desperately, but you just didn’t know if you could. 

“Even if I believe you, what’s the problem here?” you asked. Your gaze fell from his as you worried your bottom lip. “Am I doing something wrong?”

You didn’t see the way Ben’s brows knitted together, his eyes softening a bit.

“Other than annoying the hell out of me right now, no,” he replied. 

“Okay,” you nodded with a sigh. You looked up at him again. “Then just tell me the truth. What are we doing here?” 

“What the fuck do you mean?” Ben’s hands went to his waist, and once again, he frowned in irritation. “I’m here. What more do you want from me?” 

“Do you love me?” you asked. “And don’t lie to me.” 

He knew very well that you would be able to detect if he was lying. Which was why, you suspected, he hadn’t tried to. 

He couldn’t seem to answer you though…and that broke your heart.

Shaking your head, you walked away from him to get ready for work.

Your attitude at work was snappish at best. Annie had pulled you from the Surveillance department on your lunch break to join her and your friends in the breakroom, but you couldn’t enjoy yourself like you usually would.

“Smooth and creamy, all the motherfuckin’ way,” M.M. said. Sitting across from him in the breakroom was Frenchie, pelting him with a roasted peanut.

“This is why you are an unsophisticated, bourgeois, fucking fuddy-duddy,” Frenchie remarked. He was also vaping, as Annie was trying to get him to stop smoking indoors. “Extra crunchy peanut butter is the only way to do business.”

“What’s the point? Just eat peanuts if you want it that crunchy,” M.M. countered. He blocked each roasted nut thrown at him and organized them in a perfect pile on the table.

“You know what? You’re right. Smooth and creamy is how I’ll eat out your mother’s sweet and savory vajine,” Frenchie teased.

M.M.’s deadpan face was priceless. But when a peanut projectile strayed and hit you in the cheek, you leveled Frenchie with a glare.

“Can you guys not act like children for five goddamn minutes?” you snapped.

His brows raised, along with his hands in surrender. M.M. and Annie looked at you in mild surprise, and the latter with concern after the guys eventually left.

“What’s going on with you? You’ve looked tense as hell all day,” she asked. You sighed, holding a hand to your brow.

“I know. I’m sorry,” you replied. She gave you a knowing look.

“Is…something going on?” she asked. “Is it Ben?”

Most of the S.A. was still wary of Ben, while M.M. tolerated him at best. (You understood how hard he was trying.)

You appreciated Annie though. She was a good friend, and along with Hughie, she’d been another who started to come around to the idea of Ben. Not only as he occasionally worked with the S.A., but to the man himself, after she’d seen the way he did his best to save you, Yvette, and her son Devon.

You nodded at her question. You couldn’t help the tears burgeoning in your eyes. Annie scooched her chair over so she could rub your back in comfort. You sniffed and tried not to break down here in the middle of the breakroom, over your sad ham sandwich.

“We had a fight,” you admitted. Annie’s gaze was tight with concern.

“Did he…hurt you?” she asked. Her brown eyes were as direct as her words, promising her protection as well as retribution, depending on how you answered.

Your glassy eyes widened. “No. He’s not like that, he…believe it or not, but he’s never hurt me, Annie. Not once.”

After a moment, she nodded. “Okay, good. Well, tell me what happened.”

You wanted to. But before you could, both of you got an incoming text in the team group chat. It was from Grace Mallory.

She had a new mission.

Grace asked you to join the team on your first field mission since you’d returned to work three months ago. She also called in Ben, as in her words, it was another “all hands on fucking deck” situation.

Ben and Butcher eyed one another with similar stoic frowns, before they proceeded to ignore each other. Despite how you felt about Ben right now, the brief exchange almost made you smirk.

Apparently the whole I saved you with my super blood thing was awkward for both of them. You knew Ben had seen it as a means to an end. You still didn’t know how Butcher felt about it, but it seemed as if a begrudging respect had formed between the two men.

Or at least, they were civil, anyway.

“All right,” Grace said, once she saw that everyone was in attendance. “Let’s begin.”

A supe named Sapphire had been giving the CIA trouble for years now. She was moving drugs from South America to the States, to the Middle East, whoever would deal with her. And she was smart. She had a network of spies that transcended continents, and so she had evaded every attempt at arrest.

She was also a powerful supe, with the ability to channel vaporizing energy not unlike Crimson Countess had. However, this supe could spear blue shards of light through her enemies as well.  With her damn eyes.

Grace turned to you after she finished explaining the details of the mission.

“Sapphire’s internal security is advanced. Our system can’t penetrate her firewalls. You’ll need to get a hand on the mainframe from there, shut down her system. Then our Surveillance team can back you up here.”

You nodded, but in the corner of your eye, you noticed Ben frowning as he crossed his arms.

“What?” you asked.

“You’re out of practice,” he told you. “You really think you’re ready for this?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I train every day,” you snapped back.

Ben’s expression fell into irritation. “Not the same, and you fucking know it.”

Butcher, Annie, and the others watched the exchange with mixed wariness and discomfort. Grace looked between you and Ben with curious, narrowed eyes.

“Is this going to be a problem, you two working together on this?” she asked.

You turned from Ben’s annoyed face and met Grace’s gaze directly.

“Not at all,” you said.

Sapphire had been spotted doing business in the Meat Packing District. By day, the building was a beef butchering factory. By night, it was apparently one of the most massive drug running operations in the city.

As such, her security team was extensive—at the front, the back, and the roof. So while Butcher, Kimiko, and Ben broke through the front, making a lot of noise and distraction, the rest of you went under.

Unfortunately, that meant the sewer. Annie lit the way through, while M.M. followed a set of schematics to find the right spot.

“It’s not my first time in the bowels of New York City, but please God, let it be the last,” Hughie quipped. You tried not to breathe the foul smell through your nose.

“Watch the fucking rat,” M.M. said with a grimace, before he set up the double-sided ladder he brought. He and Frenchie climbed either side of it up to the metal ceiling which, according to the building’s schematics, led directly beneath the factory basement.

They took up welding guns and masks to carve a large hole into the metal and cement above. And soon enough, they pushed up and slid over a large portion, creating a gap you could all crawl through. 

M.M. helped Annie up first, and she shot a few star bolts at the three men inside, who had been smoking and eating deli sandwiches. Each of them went down, alive, but groaning in pain. That allowed the rest of you to climb up and into the basement.

“We’re in,” M.M. said into the Bluetooth communicator in his ear.

“We’re cutting through her goon squad,” Butcher said. “Sapphire’s here somewhere. I can smell a massive cunt already.”

“Gross. Thanks for that visual,” Annie remarked.

From there, you all took off toward the stairwell. It was your task to find the operation’s security control room. So Hughie and Frenchie went with you as backup, while M.M. and Annie went to join the fight and find Sapphire.

It took you a few tries to find the right room. Most of them were offices. One contained wagons of discarded meat parts (disgusting). But eventually, you found a large room filled with computer equipment and a huge wall monitor with several panels of camera feeds. You and Frenchie raised your guns and took out the team inside.

Then you and Hughie went to the controls. Frenchie watched the door while you worked to disable the firewall first. You instructed Hughie on how to knock out their communications as well. And within a few minutes, your work was done. You were able to make a call to the S.A. Surveillance team.

“Hey, friend!” a cheerful voice greeted you. You smiled; it was your coworker Jess, who you’d worked with for the past two years. 

“Jess?”

“Yep! I’m helping out on this one. What do you need?”

“I shut down the firewall. I’m giving you the I.P. address now so you can connect.”

“…Okay, got it. I’m in. I can see all twenty cameras, and you! Hey, there.”

“All right, where’s Sapphire?” you asked.

“Looks like they haven’t found her yet,” Hughie said, pointing at the camera feed in the main room, filled with rows of conveyor belts, and a massive fight as Ben, Butcher, and the others made their way through the building.

“We’ll just have to help them clear each room,” you said. “Let’s go. Jess, keep an eye on us, but look out for Sapphire.”

“Will do. I’m patched into your comm now too,” she said. So you hung up your cell, and you left with Hughie and Frenchie.

You ran into more security when you left the room, more than the three of you could realistically handle as a fire fight began. You guys ran in the opposite direction, but while you veered right around the corner, Frenchie and Hughie ran left. Bullets tore in between, making sure that none of you could cross the hall to join back up.

“You guys keep going. I’ll find my own way out,” you called out to them. Neither of them liked that idea, but Frenchie nodded and pulled Hughie away when Sapphire’s security team closed in.

You kept running down the hall. You knew you were being chased. Several heavy footsteps thundered behind you. 

“Jess, I need a way out of here,” you commed in.

“You’re on the second floor,” she said. “The closest stairwell is the one you’re running away from.”

“What’s the second closest?” You panted as you ran.

“Hmm, you can cut through room 234. The exit stairwell is right on the other side.”

 “Is the room clear?” you asked.

After a moment, Jess answered. “Yep, it should be.”

"Should be?”you said dubiously.

“What the hell’s going on?” you heard Ben’s voice on the line. You heard the edge of his annoyance (and underlying worry), but you didn’t have time to talk to him right now.

“Looks clear on my end,” said Jess,“but this connection is a bit wonky.”

Damn it, Jess, you thought. When you reached room 234, the door was solid gray. There was no window to peek into, and you didn’t have time for caution, as a stray bullet nearly caught you in the head.

You ripped the door open and ran in, slamming the door shut behind you and locking it for good measure.

You turned around and stopped short. A gasp caught in your throat.

The room was huge, and it was filled wall-to-wall with white packages, of what you could only assume was cocaine. A few men were continuing to stack them. At the center of it all was a tall woman, rich tan skin, long black hair, wearing a deep blue pantsuit and killer heels. She looked like a boss ass bitch.

But unfortunately, she was also looking straight at you, raising a brow.

“Ah,” she said. A smile curved her lips, painted with a dark plum lipstick. “You’re one of the little bitches making a mess in my office.” 

Her eyes glowed blue, and yours widened. You dove for the nearest shelter—a wall of cocaine parcels. White powder exploded and wafted in the air as you ducked and ran across the room (and tried not to inhale). You drew your gun and shot out the legs of her men underneath the long stretch of table, but you yelped as bullets continued to follow you.

“I found Sapphire! Need backup in 234!” you shouted into the comm.

But when a blast of blue energy rocked into the wall directly behind you, you screamed as you were thrown forward. You landed painfully on your side, with the wind knocked out of you.

After a moment, you drew breath into your lungs and were able to pick yourself up. The exit door was close, a mere few feet away, but the second you reached for it, you had to pull back as narrow blue shards of light pierced the door. 

Sapphire was quickly approaching, just a yard or so away from grabbing you.

Instead of shooting your gun, you went for the taser at your belt and shot fast. Sapphire grabbed the end of the line like a fucking moron. Her blue eyes widened in outrage and pain when it shocked 50,000 volts of electricity through her body.

You took your chance, and you ripped the door open and fled. You just didn’t expect the bolt of energy that shot after you when you reached the stairs.

It didn’t hit you, but trying to dodge it made you lose your balance. You uttered a short scream as you were forced to jump the first flight of stairs.

You landed on the middle platform between the first and second floor. This time, you knew you twisted your ankle badly on the way down. You whimpered, holding your ankle and shin, but you knew you didn’t have time to waste.

It was a struggle to claw your way up to the guard rail. You could barely put pressure on your right foot, but you had no choice as you scrambled down the rest of the stairs. Already the door to the stairwell was blown open, and a pissed supe was on her way down behind you.

After shoving the door open on the first floor, you stumbled out and took another painful spill across the concrete floor. To your relief, M.M. picked you up by your arms.

The door behind you swung open, and before Sapphire could fire off a vaporizing blow, Ben raised his new titanium shield in front of you and M.M.

The blue energy bounced right off, and Ben used his shield to bat the supe right in the face—like swatting a fly. With a shriek, she was thrown hard against the wall.

Sapphire sunk to her knees, then the electric blue flickered out of her eyes as she fell unconscious to the floor.

When you all returned to Supe Affairs, Ben thundered down the hall towards the Surveillance department.

“Ben!” You hurried after him the best you could with a sprained ankle, bare-footed and wrapped, while M.M. and Hughie trailed behind. The others were busy getting Sapphire into custody.

Hughie was concerned for you though, while M.M. also wanted to know how you were going to try and reign in Soldier Boy.

“What the hell are you doing?” you called after Ben.

“I wanna know what goddamn moron cleared that fucking room,” he barked, but he didn’t slow down.

M.M. called your name from behind.

“Get your boyfriend in check,” he warned.

You sighed in irritation. At this point, you didn’t even know if he was your boyfriend.

But you struggled to reach him. You were practically hopping on one foot. The moment you tried to put any pressure on your right one, you faltered with a cry as you all but crashed against the wall to catch yourself. Hughie went to help you, grabbing your arm gently with a supportive hand on your back.

You didn’t see it, but that was when Ben stopped short. His jaw ticked. And he turned on his booted heel. When he saw you struggling to support yourself against the wall, he reluctantly went back. He knocked Hughie’s scrawny hands off you and wrapped an arm around your waist.

When he tried to just gather you into his arms to get the weight off your injured foot, you snapped at him.

“I can walk!” you said. “Let’s just go home please.”

His nostrils flared in irritation, but he helped you try to walk back toward the exit instead. You winced in pain with every small step.

Ben growled in annoyance. Fuck this. 

He hefted you effortlessly into his arms. You gasped and clung to his shoulders, and afterwards, you glared at him.

“I said I can walk!” you insisted.

“Shut up,” he grated out, swiftly heading for the exit doors down the hall. M.M. and Hughie watched with wide eyes while you and Ben devolved into what you did best.

“Don’t tell me to shut up!” you raised your voice.

He glared at you. “You’re in rare fucking form right now.”

“You’re the one being an asshole!”

“And you’re being a disrespectful brat!”

You rolled your eyes as anger burned hot in your veins. “What-fucking-ever, grandpa.”

Ben’s teeth clicked and grinded together. It took everything he had within him not to toss you. 

“You really wanna fucking get it, don’t you?”

“Suck my dick. How about that?” you sassed back, unfazed by his warning. 

Ben bulldozed through the double doors with a swift kick that shook them on their hinges. The bickering continued long after you two exited the building. 

Hughie just stared, mouth gaping, while M.M. crossed his arms. 

“That is some volatile shit,” Hughie remarked. 

M.M. scoffed, with a subtle shake of his head. 

“Nah, man,” he said ruefully. “That’s true motherfuckin’ love.”

Meanwhile, in the car, Ben drove home to Scarsdale. You simmered in the passenger seat. He glanced at you.

“Are you gonna be a hissy bitch all night?” he asked. You glowered at him.

“You’re the fucking grouch,” you shot back. In times like these, you liked to fantasize. Sometimes you wished you could rip out his spine and play Jenga with the vertebrae.  

“And you’re the one who nearly got yourself killed,” he retorted.

You took issue with this, your brows raising high.

“Excuse me? You’re really blaming me for what happened with Sapphire? You were ready to take out my friend for making an honest mistake.”

His gaze briefly left the road, turning to you in frustration. He didn't understand how you couldn't get it through your thick skull. You had been one shaky step shy of being fucking vaporized today.

No blood. No body. Just...nothing.

“Case in point, you’re the best in Surveillance," he said gruffly. "You don’t need to be in the field."

His compliment stopped you, warming you a little, but he was missing the point.

“I go where I’m needed, just like you,” you said. “You don’t get to tell me how, when, or where to do my job.”

Needless to say, it was tense for the rest of the way home.

Ben helped you inside, after which, you were determined to get to the bedroom by yourself. He watched you hop away from him with a frustrated shake of his head.

He sighed and started to peel off his gloves and untie his boots…but instead of leaving them by the door, like he usually would, he kept walking until he made it to the bedroom he shared with you. He sat on the edge of the bed and took his boots off there.

He watched you ignore him as you closed yourself into the bathroom.

You came out of the shower a little while later. Your hair was damp, but unwashed as you hadn’t been able to stand there for very long. The wrap on your ankle had gotten wet, so you grabbed the spare one that the paramedic had given you.

Ben didn’t look at you as he took his turn heading into the bathroom. After the door shut, your shoulders slumped with a sigh.

You tried to put on some shorts, but you quickly gave up and instead put on an overlarge shirt over your underwear. You remembered then that this shirt was an old one of Ben’s, and now a favorite of yours, because it still smelled like that earthy mix of his cologne and aftershave.

Frowning, you sucked in a deep breath. And you made a decision.

By the time Ben came back out with a towel wrapped around his hips, he found you still in the bedroom. Except you were packing a suitcase—the same one he’d brought to the safe house he’d shared with you for a month.

You were stuffing clothes into it from your side of the dresser. Something churned uncomfortably in his stomach, and he approached you.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he demanded to know.

You glanced up at him, but continued packing.

“Well, you made yourself very clear this morning that we’re just roommates. So I’m going to the guest room.”

“All right, don’t get all fucking hormonal,” he said, reaching out with a hand to stop you. You snatched your hand away from him. His brows raised in disbelief.

When you tried to get past him on the way to your closet, he held fast to your arm. With an angry frown, he then grabbed your suitcase and spilled it over onto the bed. You didn’t need a fucking suitcase to move one room over. Not that he planned to let you go any-damn-where.

“Enough,” he said sharply.

You met his intense stare with your own, but your eyes were shining and red. In that moment, you both stilled. The silence was palpable. For you, it was heartbreaking.

“I can’t do this anymore, Ben,” you confessed. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall just yet. “I put my all into this, and I just…I can’t be with someone who won’t be honest with me.”

You started to grab your suitcase again, along with your discarded clothes. Ben stopped you. 

“I said enough,” he snapped. 

You then threw the heap of clothes to the floor, suitcase and all.

“Why?” you tearfully retorted. “Why should I listen to you?” 

His deep green eyes searched yours. For what, you didn’t know.

Eventually, you started to see through the cracks of his anger.

“Because I fucking love you,” he said. 

You blinked up at him, with hope stuck in your throat. But you were stubborn in your denial.

“You’re just saying that to get me off your back,” you argued. “Either you’ve just gotten used to having me around, or you just don’t feel like being alone. But you don’t really care about me.”

You knew you were saying words you didn’t mean.

You knew that wasn’t true…but you couldn’t help it.

You were more upset than angry now, seconds away from dissolving into pitiful tears. You were just stubborn enough to hold them at bay.

“Just shut up for one goddamn second,” Ben said. He held you by your shoulders, though his hands soon moved down to grip your arms. It wasn’t a painful hold, but it was firm, and quite possibly pleading.

Despite your better judgment, you gave him time to speak.

“You really think I’d stay here in this shithole if I didn’t want you?” he asked. “If I didn’t care about you?”

You unconsciously held your breath. For a long moment, he hesitated to continue.

Again, you waited for him.

Meanwhile, Ben knew he was being a coward. He’d been holding back. Not because he wasn’t serious about you, but because he’d been burned before. 

He knew he’d spent his life being a fucking bastard, in most ways. He knew he’d been wrong, and hadn’t given two shits about it. But Crimson Countess…Tess…he’d been willing to settle down with her. He’d actually told her he loved her and hadn’t been totally lying through his teeth. 

Yeah, he’d fucked around. Flirted with other women in front of her. He knew he was a hypocrite. Still, in whatever way he could at the time, he thought he’d loved her. 

And she’d lied to him. She’d gone through the motions of being with him. For fame or fear or whatever her reasons had been, she went along with it. And then she’d sold him out, along with the rest of their team. 

For nothing. Just to get him the fuck out of her life—out of the world. 

So what was he supposed to do with you? Just let you walk the fuck in, give you the deepest parts of him? A dark fucking space that he’d never given to anyone.

Well, he knew now if he didn’t, you were going to leave. But he wasn’t willing to let go either.

So…he relented. For once in his life, he told the truth.

“I love you,” Ben admitted. “In my whole damn life…I think you’re the only one who’s made me feel it for real.” 

Tears finally slipped down your cheeks. You reached out and grasped his wrist, mostly for stability as you took in his words. He took that hand, held it to his warm chest. Always warm. 

“But one day, I’m still going to fucking lose you,” he said, looking down on you. “Then I’ll be right back where I started.”

Alone. 

You looked up at him with a sad, rueful smile. 

“Not exactly where you started,” you replied. He wasn’t the same man you met last year. You pressed your free hand to his cheek.

“Taking Compound V doesn’t guarantee I’ll come out like you, with a longer lifespan.”

“It’s something the CIA can work on,” Ben said. 

“You want Dr. Baker to experiment on me?” you asked, quirking a brow. The CIA had recruited her, ironically enough.

Ben closed his eyes for a second, letting out a slight huff. “That’s not what I’m fucking saying.”

You nodded and soothed your fingers through his hair. 

“Okay, we’ll have that conversation. I promise.” Then you smiled. “But let me just have this moment…my boyfriend loves me.”

You looked into his eyes and you knew he meant it. His hands moved to your waist, around to the small of your back. You clung to his shoulders and shifted off your aching ankle with a wince. Ben noticed, and he raised you up to him. It had the added benefit of letting you reach his face easier.

He guided you into a searing kiss. You responded in kind, delving into his hair again and opening your mouth to his demanding tongue. With the tips of your toes, you pushed up from the ground and he helped you wrap your legs around his waist.

The towel he wore was starting to slip, and you shoved it the rest of the way off with your foot, until he stood in the center of the bedroom in all his glory. 

He smirked into your lips and walked you to the bed. But before he could lay you down, you broke the kiss and held his face.

“You really love me?” you asked, just to make sure. It was the part of you, perhaps still scarred deep down, that had to ask.

Ben chuckled. He rested his forehead against yours. “You’re mine, sweetheart. Don’t you fucking forget it.”

You grinned, and you kissed him this time, only breaking when he lowered down to the bed. Once your back met the plush mattress, all bets were off. He wrenched your shirt up over your head, and you reached for him again.

Your lips drew a hot, wet path from his jawline to his neck, biting and sucking all along the way to that sensitive spot between his neck and shoulder. His hand clenched in your hair, a deep sound caught in his throat when he felt the sharp sting of your teeth, playfully biting, then soothing with your tongue.

Your nails bit into his skin, but merely felt like teasing down his back, making a shiver trill along his spine. He all but pressed you into the mattress as he made his own descent.

Your fingers trailed up and into his hair while his mouth worked its way down between your breasts, stopping to lavish attention on each one. You made sounds of pleasure when he took a hardened nipple between his lips, between his teeth, dragging deliciously over your skin.

Your thighs wrapped around his hips again, He bucked teasingly into your clothed core, making you moan when you felt his wet tip dampening your panties.

“Ben…”

His lips curved, but he didn’t answer you. His fingers were pressing into the flesh of your thigh as he continued to tease your breasts. You’d felt how hard he was already and frankly, you were surprised he was taking his time.

“Listen,” you panted in his ear. “You’ve gotta wrap it up this time. Do we even have condoms?”

You knew for a fact that Ben didn’t buy them. 

But his brows furrowed. His mouth left your breast as he looked up at you.

“What?”

“I haven’t replaced my IUD yet,” you confessed. Its five-year lifespan had been up, and so you’d gotten the birth control device removed a few days ago.

Now, you watched in amusement at the way his lips curved into a pleased grin.

“No, don’t you even think about it,” you warned. Though you almost laughed at how excited he looked. “We’re not ready for that.”

“Why fucking not?” Ben asked. His pressed his length against your core more insistently. The idea of fucking you raw, spilling into you, putting his seed deep inside you without resistance, had his cock throbbing with anticipation.

“Ben!” You had to laugh. You two hadn’t even been living together that long, and you had just gotten on the same page after six months of trying to figure out what you were together.

“Don’t tell me you don’t want kids,” he said. And he began to ply you with tantalizing kisses along the column of your throat, down your neck, the scraping of teeth making you shudder in delight.

“I do,” you could admit. “But is right now really the best ti—”

He choked a moan out of you as his fingers pushed your underwear aside and spread your folds, then delved right in. Your core pulsed, hot and wet as his thick digits sunk deep inside you.

“God,” you uttered, gripping his hair tight. He stretched and explored your inner channel with two fingers, while his thumb found your clit with ease.

“When then?” he asked. But his hand was unrelenting, working you over until your toes curled and the coil in your lower belly began to tighten. You looked up at him helplessly.   

“Can we talk about this later?” you keened. Ben smirked and suddenly withdrew his fingers from your dripping pussy. He snatched your underwear, ripping them down the middle and making you gasp.

“No time like the fucking present,” he insisted. He lined himself up to your entrance, but you stopped him with a warning look. You knew if you let him inside you now, he was going to try and get his way.

“Ben,” you warned.

He sighed and let you stop him, but then his teasing edge faded.

Ben pressed a hand to your cheek. When he leaned down to kiss you, you felt the need and wanting behind it. 

He pulled away to meet your eyes. You softened looking up into his, because you understood what he wanted.

“We have time, baby,” you promised, stroking his chin. “We’ll have a family…just give us some time.”

He was disappointed…but he nodded. Sighing again through his nose, he clenched a hand into the now tangled mess of your hair.

“Say it,” he demanded. “Say you’re fucking mine.”

Your eyes widened. In all of this, you’d forgotten to be honest yourself. 

“Of course I’m yours,” you said. “I love you, Ben. So much, I can hardly take it.” 

He closed his eyes with furrowed brows. It had been a very long time since he’d heard those words. Maybe the first time someone had said them with any real sincerity, besides his mother. 

You encouraged him to look at you, both with your voice and your hand gently touching his face. And when he opened his eyes, you marveled at the depths there. 

Smiling, you guided him back to your lips. It was slow and sweet…until it wasn’t, deepening in passion and urgency again. Need burned inside you, so deep and strong that you couldn't take it anymore.

You slipped a hand between you to grasp his still hard cock. You caressed him a few times, letting your thumb circle around the sensitive head. Ben couldn’t help thrusting into your hand, releasing a grunt. His eyes briefly closed again as you pressed open-mouthed kisses to his neck, down his chest.

“I need you,” you whispered against his skin. Ben nodded while you held his length poised at your entrance. He raised your hips, tucking your ankles over shoulders. For your injured one, he rubbed your calf.

“What a fuckin’ trooper,” he said with a smirk.

You smiled, but it soon fell into a moan as he began to push inside you. Every time, he stretched and filled you completely. Your inner walls wrapped around him and already fluttered with heat.

“Fuck, baby doll. Got me tight as a damn glove,” Ben remarked. You had to giggle, but that just squeezed him harder. When he began to move, it was all you could do to cling to his shoulders.

As basic as the position was, you liked being able to see his face. You knew when to spur him on, and when to just hold on for dear fucking life. But above all, he was a skilled man, and you enjoyed watching him work.

You were so consumed by it that when he came, it took both of you by surprise. He spilled into you hot and deep, but he still filled you with ragged thrusts, which hit that special place inside that made your entire body shudder with pleasure. You couldn’t help but come apart with him.

Your nails bit fruitlessly into his skin as your voice rose on a high moan. The two of you panted for breath, and he pulled out and let down your legs back to the bed. Once you felt the telltale dripping of his release slipping down from between your legs, your eyes widened. 

Oh shit, you thought. “We forgot the condom.”

Ben stared down at you, first in confusion, then in surprise. And finally, with a broad, Cheshire-like grin.

You laid a hand over your eyes as you relaxed into the pillow behind your head, trying not to laugh.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” you said.

“We? I was following your lead,” Ben said. He moved to lay beside you in full satisfaction, folding his hands over his chest. He looked like the cat that caught the horny-ass canary.

"Haven't you heard of, oh, I don't know, pulling out?" you quipped. Ben rose a brow at you, still with that smug look on his face.

"Not my philosophy, sweetheart," he said.

Your mouth dropped open incredulously. Your gaze narrowed, but looking into his gleaming eyes, you really just had to laugh. His smile grew.

Ugh. Whatever, you thought. For now, you closed your legs and moved over to rest your head on his shoulder. He welcomed you with an arm wrapping around your waist.

What’re the chances that I’m ovulating anyway? you thought.

After a beat, you huffed another laugh. With your luck, you’d definitely have to stop at a drugstore for a pregnancy test.

And yet, in times like these, you were happy that you caved when Ben insisted on installing a TV in the bedroom. After you both got cleaned up, it was nice to fall into bed like you used to and find something new to watch together.

There were so many things you wanted him to catch up on, and he was generally game for whatever you thought he might like.

Three episodes of The Office later though, you stopped laughing so much and fell into your thoughts. Ben noticed, tugging on a loose strand of your hair.

“What’s the matter?”

“You really think our apartment is a shithole?” you asked.

He shrugged. “I might’ve embellished.”

“Seriously. If you’re not comfortable here—”

“I’m comfortable,” he said, turning his gaze to you. “Why’re you asking me that now?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “I just want you to be happy here. I want this to feel like home for both of us, but not like, boring either.” 

He smirked. “Hence the caravan of whores and blow.” 

You shook your head with a laugh. But he still saw you trying to stem off that worry. That all this wasn’t enough for him. 

Well, Ben could complain about being cramped in this three-bedroom apartment…but he knew that when he came home, he wouldn’t be alone. 

He’d be able to see your stuff on the nightstand, by your side of the bed, your half of the closet, your sweet-smelling soaps and lotions in the bathroom. All of that was familiar to him now. 

It was home, he supposed. And so were you.

The beginnings of a softer smile curved his lips, but he edged it into a smirk.  

“You’ve got something they don’t,” he said. 

“What’s that?” you asked, raising a brow. 

“You try the ever-living fuck out of my patience,” he said, “unlike anyone on the planet.” 

With a giggle, you rolled over onto his arm and chest, resting your head on his shoulder. 

“Buuut…?” 

He conceded with a nod, if also a roll of his eyes. His arm lifted to once again slip around your waist.

“But no matter how fucked up it got, you stayed.”

With me, his tone implied.

“That’s more than anyone else in my goddamn life,” he said.

And that made you tear up all over again.

“So you’re staying,” you clarified, only half-teasing.

It reminded you of when you’d sat tied to a chair, wondering why the hell Soldier Boy would want to let you live. You could’ve never known it then, but you’d stared straight into the face of your future.

You didn’t know if Ben was remembering the same thing, but he smiled a little, brushing away your tears with his thumb.

“I’m staying,” he replied. Your smile brightened, and you leaned up for a kiss.

“Then we’re square,” you whispered against his lips. 

He chuckled and deepened the kiss. He turned off the TV, chucking the remote further down the bed and turned to trap you beneath him again.

“Nope.” You finished wiping your eyes and pushed against his chest. “You’re not finessing me twice. Go find a damn condom.”

He gave you a grumpy look. “Fucking killjoy.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you laughed. You reached up and took his face in your hands.

“I promised, didn’t I?” you reminded. “We’ll get there.”

His gaze searched yours.

“Soon, not someday,” he said. You nodded, soothing your thumb across his cheek.

“Soon,” you agreed. And you reminded him, even as your throat constricted once more with emotion. “Ben, I love you…God, I love you. And I’ve never wanted this with anyone but you.”

Ben paused, but after a moment, he nodded in acceptance. You were grateful for it. Even though you weren’t quite ready yet, he wasn’t the only one who wanted a family.

While your fractured past and upbringing made it hard for you to move past your fears, your insecurities, you knew that this man made you feel safe.

For the first time in your life, you also felt whole.

Soon enough, you’d be brave too.

AN: That's all, folks. Been a great ride...

Ha! Just kidding. I'm nowhere near done with these two, even with this long-ass epilogue lol.

But honestly, no matter what part of the journey you jumped into with this story, thank you so much for sticking with me until the end. It's truly been one of my favorite stories ever to write. And I'm so glad I got the chance to share it with you. 🥹💚🥹

Next Time:

Ready for Part 2 (of 3) of "Love Actually"?

(AKA: Ben is forced to attend Christmas dinner to meet his girlfriend's whole family.)

Here's a sneak peek:

“Hey. What’s taking so damn long?” he asked. His brows were furrowed, mouth set in an aggravated frown. “I already told you. I’m not planning on being at this thing all night. So if you don’t come down here in the next ten minutes, I swear to fucking Christ—” 

Ben stopped short, as he heard your footsteps at the top of the stairs. When he looked up with expectant, pursed lips, his face subtly froze. 

“What? What’re you gonna do?” you teased. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you grasped the guardrail and carefully made your way down the stairs. These heels were no joke...

😂 Until then, let me know what you thought of the BMD finale! 💚💚

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[sinnabonka]

15x19: So bad, that it’s actually good

Yesterday I had the experience of my life. I couldn’t watch the show (hi, everyone stuck in UTC+ shithole), but I couldn’t sleep either, so I ended up at 3 AM reading my people livestreaming it on Tumblr. This was one hell of a roller coaster, given the absurdity of the plot and the weakest writing in this season.

(I don’t mean the excellent and ironical and powerful message to the fandom, we’ll get there)

I was aware beforehand what I was getting, so no major disappointment regarding not seeing Cas back this week. Also, it kinda was my call, that he’ll be back in the final final.

The Ultimate Happy End, the biggest win of Dean Winchester. Chuck’s book ended, and Cas is not in Chuck’s book.

Was it bad? Yes, it was. Did I enjoy it? Hell yeah, I did. 

Everyone on Tumblr already gave their two cents of hatred regarding the writing, the montage, the solemn aim of this episode (spoiler alert: to please the general audience and bronlies), and I will give mine, too. Watcha say?

It was so bad.

I didn’t believe it was the same show as the rest of Season 15. It was like rereading the fanfic my stupid 13 y.o. self wrote after like half a season and no skill or whatever. Full OOC, everyone. Learn what not to do. 

I am so happy I didn’t watch ep 18 and 19 in one night. Could you imagine? That would be like getting kicked in the balls after a pretty good blowjob or something. Idk, but I can imagine.

It was lazy, it was just connecting two dots in the shortest way possible, although, leaving dozens of gaps! How, in the name of God, did they manage it?

Why Chuck could bring Lucifer back, but Jack didn’t pull Cas out of the empty before evaporating? 

Why Sam has no fucks to give about Eileen?

How did Michael miss the whole thing of Jack gaining powers, don’t angels, like, have a nose for such things?

What battle is he talking about? It’s was a single stab!

It’s all just so easy, so short sighted. God is bad, let’s defeat God. Lucifer is bad, too, let him do bad, again. Michael is petty, and with Adam gone he’s back to his tropes being daddy’s boy, let him not being appreciated one more time and lets kill him off, too. I mean, my speculations on this ep were stronger.

Let’s make our characters retell the villain what was happening off screen. Let’s put some direct call backs to the previous episode, but make it feel like a grain of sand in the eye. Let’s give Dean a miracle, just for Miracle to be yanked away from his hands a moment later (parallels to Cas, anyone?). 

Let’s pretend there’s no Eileen, there’s no Cas, let’s pretend they don’t matter! Let’s pretend “Just us” is a happy end. Let’s have two bros driving in sunset, because after all those years and all their losses, that’s the only thing that matters. “To everyone we’ve lost along the way”, my ass.  

(Totally following my call in here, though, I hate being right)

It was everything I’ve hated about the show back in 2013 when I left. And it was everything this show is not now, which I am so thankful for, and why I am back.

All those sloppy plot decisions, episodes with no logic, awkward and ridiculous montage, “only bro” dynamics, bending and totally ignoring the rules of the universe. The episodes with Lucifer, too, for crying out loud. 

Forced happiness, fake smiles, a lingering touch, close up at the beer bottles. It’s just them, the Winchesters, and the whole world can go fuck itself, as long as they get to drive their Impala to the end of the world and back.

This is something Chuck would love to be their ending. You see what I’m doing here? This episode - it’s Chuck’s book, it’s the bad ending Becky’s been talking about: all action and no Cas. In other words, not good. 

So, what’s good about it then?

In this episode we hear “the old Supernatural” talking through the words of Chuck and “the new Supernatural” answering, with Dean’s and Sam’s help:

Chuck: “What did you do?”

Dean: “We won.”

Chuck: “So this is how it ends?”

We won. The Author (TM) is defeated.

Chuck: “For the fist time I have no idea what happens next. Is this where you kill me? Dying of hand of Sam and Dean Winchesters. It’s kinda glorious?”

Chuck - the old Supernatural - wants the story to end this way. With killing God, with this bittersweet aftertaste, because Cas says all those beautiful words, but Dean still feeds off his anger and kills. Typical Chuck, right?

But, no! Not this time!

Dean: “See, that’s not who I am. That’s not who we are.”

Chuck: “What kind of ending is this?”

Sam: “His power. You sure it won’t come back?”

Jack: “It’s not his power anymore.”

It’s not their call! Writers tried to control the narrative so hard, but just kept circling around, killing one of the brothers just to bring him back. This time, there’s another ending. 

Dean: “It’s the ending where you grow old. You get sick. And you just die”

Sam: “And no one cares. And no one remembers you. You’re just forgotten.”

Because that, my people, is the destiny of Supernatural if it ends this way. It’s the ending of “Supernatural” by Chuck Shurley. If it is the story of two brothers hunting evil for fifteen years and finding themselves back in the place they begun in, what’s the point? Yes, we love the characters, but the story is empty.

Everyone is going to forget about it before the final credits end. And the writers are well aware of it. 

Quoting myself, If we keep taking the same route - we end up in the same place. How many seasons ended with Winchesters together, just the two of them? You’ll find one, that’s for sure. There’s no novelty in that ending. 

(And Bobo didn’t provoke The Ultimate Shitstorm of 11/5/2020 for nothing!)

The episode 20 will be something Supernatural will be well remembered by. It will be a game changer! 

I’ve written here about the change of the philosophy of the show (point 6). I’ll be a bit of a Chuck myself and put my own quote here once again:

The message the show wants to give the world has changed. From “it’s all about the journey, about saving people, killing things, no one ever gets what they deserve”, the philosophy has changed drastically toward the “good things do happen, you deserve to be saved, to be loved”.

And this, my people, is what we are getting in the next episode. Because Chuck’s story was about killing your brother, killing your son, one apocalypse after another, Lucifer, Michael, all that shit. 

But Dean’s and Sam’s is not. And in their book, there’s Cas, there’s Eileen, and everyone they didn’t lost along the way.

So, brothers driving in sunset? Not the end, but the beginning of their own story.

“Supernatural” indeed ended tonight. But our story didn’t.

[unalivejournal]

u mentioned only reading kripke era fic do you have a reclist 👀👀👀and if not could you link some of ur faves cuz the stuff that gets circulated the most right now is all like late late seasons fic and kripke era is my favorite too but im having trouble finding that many fics for it or even seasons 6-10 era which im fine with also. its just that like. the last five seasons were so bad that it makes fic generally worse too because people have to jump off of just Thee stupidest plot choices no matter how good their prose skills might be. but anyway yea if u have recs that would be awesome :)

hi anon i was thinking abt making a reclist and u just gave me the perfect excuse thank u

jess adamilligan’s kripke era fic recs

from making this ive learned that i never bookmark ANYTHING. sorry all of these r like….. 10k and under. i DO read longer fic but i don’t have any kripke era longfics bookmarked & tbh i prefer short oneshots

season one gen

disclaimer because it’s unfortunately needed: NONE of these are w*ncest! they’re all completely tagged as gen and i did not read them with the intent of consuming ship content.

Coaster Park by fogsrollingin, 10.4k, G, gen

Coaster Park had been experiencing an unusually high frequency of technical difficulties. Dean wouldn't have pulled a shift treating nauseated, heat-stroked, or dehydrated park-goers for that if he could've helped it, but when 'technical difficulties' were accompanied by rumors of things moving and stopping on their own in front of the operators' eyes, Dean had to throw down.

No historical tragedies or disasters in the area, ectoplasm, or EMF. Dean's only lead was a battered-looking kid that'd been coming to the park every day since it'd all started.

really interesting au fic! slightly ‘it’s a terrible life’. dean winchester is a hunter/EMT and sam wesson is a college kid destined to die on a roller coaster ride.

two basic motivating forces by sahwen, 7.8k, T, gen

He can’t cry, it’s not allowed; even as a child he was hushed into silence, whether his tears were from a long car ride or a late night or a raging fever. It’s never been an option, it’s never been an available outlet, and it’s not about to start being one just because he’s having an emotional breakdown on the bathroom floor.

Sam isn't only afraid of clowns.

BIG emetophobia tw (both for graphic depictions of nausea/vomiting and for the fact that this fic is about sam suffering from emetophobia) for this one but it’s my favorite sickfic. portrays anxiety over getting sick really well and is a fascinating examination of the different ways that sam’s fear of loss of control can manifest itself. also has lovely brothers content <3

Let’s Start at the Very Beginning (Remix of Just as Easy as 123) by nwspaprtaxis, 4k, T, gen

Dean’s functionally illiterate and Sam’s determined to remedy it...

PLEASE READ THIS ONE god it’s so sweet. dean never learned how to read properly due to his nomadic childhood and sam teaches him how.

dean/cas

Broadway Musical by Griftings, 9k, M, m/m

This is the day that marked the Holy and Blessed Union of Dean Winchester and Jo Harvelle.

The merging of prominent bloodlines is always a grand occurrence, but breeding pedigree hunter families like Winchester and Harvelle is something to be rejoiced. It is also something to be meticulously planned, which thankfully the Host is very good at.

Or, the romantic comedy where Dean Winchester and Jo Harvelle are destined to get married, Castiel is given the task of playing matchmaker and fails terribly, the entire Heavenly Host becomes a sitcom audience, God warns against male pregnancy, and Jimmy Novak is incredibly unimpressed with angels in general.

somewhat of a fandom classic and the humor holds up wonderfully. a very silly fic completed with commentary from angel radio throughout the entire thing.

Sappiest Season by dollsome, 2.7k, G, m/m

In which Dean and Cas have to stop an evil Christmas tree (like you do), and it requires a little fake couple action.

hilarious little s5ish fic. one of the first i read when getting back into spn. i don’t want to spoil anything but this is my favorite pick me up and i still giggle randomly whenever i think about it

The (Mostly Accidental) Courtship of Dean Winchester by tuesday

Angelic marriage rites were never intended to go quite like this.

another fandom classic. ik this one is recced a lot but how could i NOT include it. dean and cas get married (mostly by accident) and they’re huge cunts about it

the one thing in the galaxy god didn't have his eyes on by prufrock, 2.4k, T, gen + m/m

“Wait,” Dean says. “Let me get this right. You can fly, right—you can teleport—but you can’t drive a car?”

or, after the events of S5E03 "Free to Be You and Me," Dean teaches Cas to drive. Cas finds it stressful

im always a sucker for a good ftbyam fic. also i can’t drive so. resonation

So Says The Sword by komodobits, 85k, E, m/m

The briefing was simple: ‘Stand guard over the Michael Sword until the battle is ready to commence. Await further instructions.’

Castiel doesn’t mind working security duty; he was briefed shortly after the initial salvation of the Sword from the pit, and again before taking up his position. He knows what to do. However, it’s easy to forget that the green room isn’t real. Time moves differently there, the space ever-changing to make a prison of mountains, cathedrals, salt flats, orchards, and whatever Castiel was led to believe about Heaven’s greatest weapon—Dean Winchester is something entirely unexpected.

NO introduction neede. i think everyone on spntumblr has read this already but still. if you haven’t then i am demanding that you read it NOW. tbh i’m just adding this one so that i have at least one long fic here 😭

the weight by @myaimistrue, 3.5k, T, gen + m/m

“Do you…” Bobby sighs. “Listen, Dean, do you have something you wanna tell me?”

It’s the conversational equivalent of being punched in the stomach.

Or, Dean works through some things with Bobby's help.

WHEN I SAW THE USERNAME I GASPED I HAD NO IDEA THIS WAS U. anyway i Love coming out fics idk why i just do. the world is ending and dean comes out to bobby

canticles by 2street2car, 10.3k, T, m/m

“But you know something? If I couldn’t get you laid, at least I gave you a good first date.”

feat: footsies at a Ruby Tuesday, stargazing, the recreation of an iconic "Dirty Dancing" scene (no, not that one—the other one), and practicing for When You're With A Girl.

another ftbyam fic that skepticalfrog (i believe?) recommended a while back. made me feel at least 28 new emotions

Epilogue by JayneL, 28k, E, m/m

Bobby is here, swearing somewhere above and behind him; and Dean is here, talking about 2014 like it's a foreign country; and Sam is here, and is not Lucifer. Which means-- Bobby is here, swearing somewhere above and behind him; and Dean is here, talking about 2014 like it's a foreign country; and Sam is here, and is not Lucifer. Which means--

Cas is no longer when he was. Lucifer sent him back.

Coda to 'The End'.

2014 cas gets sent back to 2009, feelings ensue etc. i don’t remember all the details of this one bc it’s been a while but it’s really good

bonus

currently reading

Fragile As We Lie by perilously, 11k, E, f/f

Dragging Bela Talbot out of perdition isn't so much a decision as it is a frantic choice based on gut instinct. Her soul is bright, if fractured, and Anna yearns to do good again after the perversion of free will that immediately preceded her death.

Bela's no ordinary human, though; she's prickly and damaged and beautiful, and Anna doesn't want to leave her side. So maybe they can figure out how to navigate post-resurrection, post-Apocalypse-that-wasn't Earth together.

[welldonebeca]

Valentine’s Day, Pal-entine’s Night

Summary: Relationships were stupid. Love was stupid. That was what you had been telling yourself for most of your life, at least. You had more important things to worry about like imminent destruction and bothersome monsters that needed burning, especially when it was with your closest friend and totally not ever-growing crush, Dean Winchester. As two grumpy single people, you and Dean settle for a night of Pal-entine’s Day pizza and some drinks, your feelings are revealed, and your night changes in a very interesting way. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader WC: 1.9k words Warnings: Smut, fluff, grinding, dirty talk, love confessions.

If you enjoy my writing, consider supporting me or subscribe to my Patreon, it’ll help a lot.

10 Days of Valentine's Day - Patreon Masterlist

You tapped your fingers onto the side of the book in your hands, a little bit bothered and a little bit bored.

It was Valentine’s Day, and it was another year you were spending it alone. Not that you wanted that, sure, but… well, what could you do?

A knock on your door made you raise your eyes, and Dean put his head through the small opening with raised eyebrows.

“Hey,” he smiled. “Sam’s out for Valentine’s Day. Wanna make it a Pal-entine’s Night?”

You chuckled, though frowning.

“The Star Wars Emperor?” you asked.

He shrugged.

“I don’t know. But I bought pizza and some beer...”

Your eyebrows perked up, and Dean instantly smirked. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” he leant against the doorframe, smirking. “I know you want to get in my cave...”

You chuckled, making up your page and putting it aside. 

“Fine, then,” you sighed. “What kind of pizza?”

(Cut for your curiosity)

“And what is your idea for a cool date?”

Dean turned completely to you and put the pizza aside, and you could see his eyes glistening just a little bit. 

“Well, let’s say I’d take you for a date,” he said quickly, almost as if he barely wanted you to register the words. “First of all, we wouldn’t spend Valentine’s Day anywhere and just home. I’d cook you a nice meal, get your favourite wine, watch a cool film, and we’d have no pressure  to perform any special sex or whatever.”

You chuckled. 

“I mean, with a full stomach? I’d rather sleep,” you shrugged. 

“Exactly!” he exclaimed and licked his lips. “And the next morning, I’d wake you up eating you out and make you cum the most times possible, and have an amazing lazy fuck because we’re both rested. And just then we’d have a real date.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to hide your perked interest in the sex part. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he smirked. “I’d take you to the carnival in the next town and we’d go on the roller-coaster, the Ferris Wheel… You know, they have some really spacious seat on the Ferris Wheel and we could have some fun in there.”

You laughed, throwing your legs on his lap and earning a smirk. 

“What kind of fun?”

His big hands rested on your ankles, massaging gently and rubbing his thumb around, gently but with second intentions right on first sight. 

“Well,” he caressed your ankles. “I’d kiss you on the lips… then on your jaw and neck…” he listed, gently. “I’d put my hand up your skirt when we were right at the top, and you know me, I’d bribe the guy to put us right at the top, and I’d finger you until you were drenched.”

Coming to Tumblr on the 15th of February.

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. . .

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[kbuggg3]

~S u p e r n a t u r a l~ CasxReader: “Crazy In Love”

IMAGINE: After risking their lives for a mysterious piece of clay, Sam, Dean, and (y/n) get a call that something happened to Cas at the hospital (s7 e21).

“Well, c’mon Meg! Give us more details! Can you at least tell me if he’s ok?... What do you mean you don’t know?” Sam angrily spoke into the phone and (y/n) and Dean exchanged scared looks as they anxiously waited to hear about the news of their best friend. Approximately an hour before all of this stress and anxiety appeared the Winchester brothers and their closest companion (y/n) Singer were hiding out in an old, abandoned jail staring at the block of clay that lay on the dust covered table.

“So what I’m getting from this is… we risked our lives for a lump of clay?” Sam looked at the girl and shrugged with a reply, “There’s gotta be more to it than just that. I mean, the Leviathans were treating it like Dean treats his car!”

“Hey!” Dean snapped. “Don’t judge me.” Sam just rolled his eyes while (y/n) continued to think aloud. “Maybe there's something inside?” This earned an odd look from Dean and she huffed in frustration. “Wha- Well I don’t know! I’m running out of ideas. That’s all I’ve got goin’ on up here unless one of you can think of something better.” Sam and Dean shared a look then shrugged. “Worth a shot.”

Dean grabbed a hammer and Sam grabbed 3 pairs of goggles, handing them out to each person. After making sure everyone had their protective eyewear on, Dean brought the hammer up into the air and struck hard on the block of clay. The moment the hammer hit the clay, causing pieces to fly everywhere, a crack of lightning, a quick rumbling of thunder was heard, and the rusty building shook for a second. The three looked at one another without speaking a word and Dean soon continued on again. Once again, he struck the clay with the hammer and thunder rumbled and the building shook. “Um is it just me or is-”

“Ya,” Sam cut in, interrupting (y/n). “That’s not normal.” Dean debated whether or not he should continue. Whatever is in this block of clay was important enough that Leviathans were willing to sacrifice their lives for it. This could be something to end the apocalypse and put a stop to the death of mankind forever. With that, Dean repeated the actions of striking the clay with the hammer despite the loud thunder, bright lightning, and violent shaking of the building.

Eventually everything went quiet and all the clay was completely gone. (y/n) opened her eyes and released her tight grip on Sam’s arm while Dean let out a long breath that he didn’t even realize he was holding. The three stare down at what used to be a big pile of nothing and what now appeared to be a tablet. The tablet had golden writings or etching in it but neither one of them could make out what it was saying. It looked as if it were written in another language.

Before any of them could say one word, Dean received an urgent call from Meg that something had happened to Castiel back at the hospital and told them to meet her there ASAP. So that's what they did. Dean stuffed the tablet in a duffle bag and they got into the impala and drove off.

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

After they arrive at the hospital and sneak past a few security guards, Sam, Dean, and (y/n) finally make it to the door of Castiel’s hospital room, where Meg stands chewing her finger nails and pacing back and forth. She heard multiple footsteps and looked at the group with a sigh of relief. “It took you long enough. He’s in here.” Meg opened the door and nodded her head, giving them the ‘ok’ to step inside. They walk in and see Cas staring out the window. “Hey, Cas?” The angel slowly turns around, faces them, and replies with a short “Hello, Dean.”

Castiel looks at Sam and smiles softly. “Sam,” he says with a short nod. “Hey, Castiel.” Cas’s eyes move from the tall man to the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. That’s (y/n) Singer. Of course he has met her before. She is the daughter of Bobby Singer and an old friend of the Winchester family. She was there when Cas first connected with Dean and the taller brother and ever since then he has had feelings for her that he, as an angelic and Godly being, couldn’t quite comprehend.

To a regular human being this was a natural thing, but Cas has never experienced anything like what he experiences when he’s around her. When she flashes her perfect pearly white smile at him, he can’t help but stop mid sentence and stare at her and her beautiful eyes. When she accidentally brushes his shoulder as they pass each other or touches his shoulder as she speaks softly to him or takes his hand for comfort, his face turns color and his stomach feels like he just swallowed a bunch of butterflies. And her laugh… oh her laugh… how it makes him wish he could listen to it forever. The way she scrunches up her nose as she projects this beautiful human noise from her perfect lips makes the corners of his mouth turn up slightly in a way he isn’t all too familiar with. Cas has no idea what was happening to him. If anything, he thought he was sick. But a regular human being would classify that as love. Cas was in love with (y/n).

Cas struggled to find the right words to say as he approached her and stuttered an awkward, “Hello, (y/n).” The girl fought the urge to throw herself onto him and wrap her arms around his neck, breathing in his comforting scent as she embraced him in a big hug. Instead she put a smile on her worried face and spoke to him in the soft, calming tone that he was very fond of. “Cas.” They stared at each other for a while until Dean awkwardly cleared his throat to break some of the tension. “Look at you, walking and talking. That’s great right?”

Cas forcefully peeled his eyes away from the goddess before him and looked at Dean with a goofy smile on his face. The angel approached the oldest Winchester with his pointer finger towards him. “Pull my finger.” Dean looked from the outstretched finger to Cas with a very confused look on his face. “I’m sorry. What?”

“My finger,” Cas explained. “Pull it.” Dean stood there awkwardly for a moment before gripping Castiel’s finger. Cas raised his eyebrows at him as he waited for Dean to pull his finger and sure enough he did. The moment Dean did as he was told, all the lights in the room bursted and everyone jumped at the sudden noise. All of the shattered glass fell to the ground and the group stared at Cas in disbelief as he giggled to himself.

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

“So let me get this straight. You said you remember who you are? What are you?”

“Yes of course,” Cas replied. He then gasped and turned around as if he were reminded of something he meant to say a while ago. “Outside today in the garden I followed a honeybee. I saw the welt of flowers. It was all right there! The whole plan! There’s nothing to add.” (y/n) quirked an eyebrow as she watched his gorgeous blue eyes twinkle with excitement like he just got finished riding a roller coaster or running a marathon.

“And he’s been like this for how long?”

“He’s been like that naked guy at the raver ever since he woke up. Totally useless.” Meg replied and the girl just nodded her head in response. “Well, Cas, how are you feeling? Do you feel any different from before?” Cas looked to (y/n) with a look of adoration as he spoke, “Would you just look at her. My caretaker.” The brothers looked to (y/n) with questioning looks as she gave the same look to the clueless angel in front of her. “All of that thorny pain. So beautiful.”

“You’re crazy.” 

“Crazy in love,” Cas said, sighing contently as he continued to stare at her sweetly. Of course (y/n) was flattered by this sudden affection from the angel she’s been crushing on since she first laid eyes on him, but he is obviously not in his normal Cas-like state. For all she knows this could all just be a misunderstanding and when (or if) they get him back to normal he wouldn’t even remember saying those things. After giving out long, awkward hugs and sharing random fun facts about cat penises, Cas revealed how exactly he became like this and that the tablet was The Word of God. “Ok well what does it say?” Cas crossed his arms and stuck out his lip. “No.”

“What the- Cas how old are you? Just read the friggin’ tablet!” Dean yelled frustrated.

“No.”

“Cas I swear on everything sacred if you don’t read this tablet right now so help me i will-”

“ Cas,” (y/n) spoke, cutting Dean off. Cas uncrossed his arms and straightened his posture as his facial features softened.

“Yes, my love?”

“Will you please try your hardest to read this tablet? It is very important that we find out what this says. You may even help save the world if you dooo,” (y/n) bribed, singing the last part. When Cas didn’t respond she pushed a little more. “Please, Cas? It would mean the world. Can you do it for me?” She ran a hand down his arm gently as she batted her eyelashes. Cas was sure his knees were going to give out on him any second now. He grabbed her hand off of his arm and clasped it tight with both of his hands, tucking the tablet under his arm. “I would do anything for you (y/n).

Cas held up the tablet and stared blankly at it for a while. Dean began to grow impatient. “Well?” Cas cleared his throat as he began an attempt in interpreting. “Uhhhh tree…” he looked around at everyone for a second. When no one responded and continued to stare at him, obviously expecting more information, he looked back to the tablet and continued. “Horse. Fiddler crab. I can’t read it. It wasn’t meant for angels.”

“Alright,” Meg cuts in. “This all sounds bad. What are you two idiots doing with the word of God? Let me see that thing.” She takes a step towards Castiel but is stopped when Dean tells her to back off. “C’mon Dean. It’s my life on the line too.” Cas froze and stared at the ground uncomfortably with wide eyes. “I said. Back. Off. Meg.”

“Dang it enough of this ‘demons are second class citizens’ crap!” Cas suddenly cut in saying “Don’t like conflict” and teleported out of the room, letting the tablet drop to the ground and break into 3 pieces. “What the h*ll was that?” Meg just scoffed and crossed her arms. “You heard him. He doesn’t like conflict.” She flashed a cocky smile causing Dean’s jaw to clench and his hands to ball into fists.

“You know what? We don’t have time for this crap. (y/n), you deal with the tablet, Sam, you do research on how to read this friggin’ thing, and I’ll go talk to Cas.”

“Actually, Dean.” (y/n) cut in making Dean stop at the doorway and look at her. “Maybe I should go with you to talk to Cas. You and him do have a special bond but I have a strong feeling that the little amount of patience you have isn’t going to be enough at the moment.” Sam and Meg chuckled slightly but Dean ignored them. “Ya I guess you’re right. Alright. You come with me. Sam, will you please pick up the… “Word of God”? And do not let that demon get the tablet.” Sam looked at Meg awkwardly and shrugged and she rolled her eyes in annoyance.

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

After finding Cas in the main room sitting quietly at a table, Dean sat in front of him and tried to talk to him while they played a game of “SORRY!”, requested by the lost angel himself. “Alright, Cas, where can we find this ‘Metatron’ guy? Is he even still alive?”

“I-I’m sorry. I believe you have to go back to start.” (y/n) giggled, earning a glare from the oldest Winchester, making her cover it up with a cough. Dean looked at the board game in front of them on the table where Cas was pointing and begrudgingly moved one of his pieces back to start like instructed. He then proceeded in his attempt to reason with the angel. “Cas, this is important.” Cas once again pointed to the board, signalling that it was now Dean’s turn to pick up a card from the stack that was located in the middle of the board.

Dean angrily picked up a card, read it in his head, threw it down, and moved his piece to where the card told him to. “I think Metatron could stop a lot of bad. Do you understand?” (y/n) could tell he was growing angry and very impatient with Cas. She quietly stood against the wall, watching anxiously. “We live in a sorry universe.” Cas held up a card that said ‘SORRY’ on it and continued to explain.

“It is engineered to create conflict. I mean, why should I prosper from your misfortune?” When he spoke he moved pieces around where they belonged and carried on as if he were simply talking about the weather versus the end of the world as we know it. There was no concern or emotion or feeling in his voice as he talked- whereas Dean and (y/n) held on to every word he said as they listened intently. “But these are the rules. I didn’t make them.”

“You made some of them. When you tried to become God. When you cut that hole in the wall.”

“Dean…” The two sat there looking at each other for a while before Cas continued. “It’s your move.” At this Dean slammed his hand on the board game and swiped it off the table forcefully. “Forget the damn game!” Cas looked down at his lap meekly and (y/n) took this as her que to intervene. “Dean! Woah, woah it’s ok. Calm down.” She put a hand on his arm, soothingly rubbing up and down making Cas stare. His mood quickly changed from shy to jealous as he watched (y/n) comfort Dean instead of him. Dean shook his head and stormed off leaving (y/n) and Cas alone. (y/n) took the seat Dean had previously been sitting in and looked to Cas with desperate eyes. Cas took notice of this and sat up straight with his hands folded on the table, giving her his undivided attention.

“Let's forget the game for one second. Is that ok with you?” Cas cutely looked to the side for a moment as he thought about the answer then nodded his head. (y/n) couldn’t help but smile at him. Although he wasn’t his true self right now she couldn’t help but notice how helpless and adorable he was being. He looked like a lost puppy. “Is there any way at all that you can help us?” Cas sadly shook his head and replied, “I’m sorry (y/n). I really am.” She could hear the sincerity in his voice. “It’s not your fault, Castiel.” He noticed her slumped shoulders and sad expression and thought of ways to try and cheer her up.

“M-Maybe when this whole thing is over with I can take you to a park.” (y/n) laughed making Cas’s cheeks heat up. “The park?”

“Ummm yes? Wait, no. I meant to say the strip club. Or was it the bar?”

“Cas, what are you talking about?” she giggled. “Well, quite some time ago Dean told me that if I liked a girl I should take her out somewhere. That and to wear protection, which is why I bring my angel blade everywhere I go,” Cas stated as a matter of factly and (y/n)’s eyes went wide as she attempted to hold back a laugh. “But it appears to me that I’ve forgotten where exactly I’m supposed to take you.”

“Wait a second. You like me?”

“Duh,” Cas chuckled and snorted as if she had told him a funny joke. “(y/n), I have been very fond of you since the day we met. Over the years you’ve made me feel things that I'm sure no angelic being has ever had the opportunity to experience. At first I was scared I was becoming ill with all the odd sensations in my stomach when you’d laugh or the muscle pains in my cheeks from smiling so much when you’d speak to me or even my face getting hot when you’d accidentally touch my shoulder. But after getting some professional advice from Dean I realized that I am truly in love with you.”

(y/n) had no idea what to say. She couldn’t believe that the angel she had fallen for after all these years had confessed to being in love with her. “Well in that case, maybe you’d like to take me to the ‘Bow Tie Bar’ right down the street here sometime.” Cas looked up, surprised that she accepted his invitation and nodded quickly. He was like a kid in a candy store. “Alright then. It’s a date.” A big smile made its way to Cas’s face along with a red tint to his cheeks. “D-Date. Right. Yes.” (y/n) laughed at his nervous stuttering and they sat in a comfortable silence for a moment. She then watched as his smile slowly faded and his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “Um, (y/n)?”

“Yes, Castiel?”

“Why exactly does the bar have a bow tie?”

[party-gilmore]

19 year old Dean sneaking out of the motel with clumsily smudged eye makeup and lipstick that Rhonda assured him via text would actually be pretty perfectly on brand and her sequiny borrowed clothes hidden under his dad's big jacket.

He doesnt understand why she told him to dress like this, but the panties thing was pretty nice, so he's willing to trust her... it helps that Dad was so damn wasted he knew there's no way he'd wake up while Dean was on the way out. Getting back in might be a different story, but he's got a change of clothes stashed in the Impala if he needs to swap out before sneaking back in.

Once he gets there, once Rhonda shows him a world he didn't even know existed right under his nose, it becomes more of a tradition. In fact, it becomes the only tradition he feels like he can share with these other people, these... these other queer people.

It's the only connection, the only experience, the only part of his strange hunter's upbringing that he feels like lines up with their own stories. The only part of their culture he feels like he can share, like he can actually be a part of.

Sneaking out, flashy skimpy gender bending clothes hidden from overbearing parents under layers upon layers, changing somewhere along the way or even in the tiny little restrooms of whatever skeevy dive is playing the movie in tonight's town of choice, sharing That Look with the other boys swapping their getups in the same dingy toilet, the confidence building as he strips layer after layer, tearing down his own defenses of Flannel and Denim and Dad's Jacket to raise a wall of freedom and expression and self love, and it always scary every time but in a good way, the way he feels at the top of a roller coaster, gripping the lap bar and so, so ready.

Then after, lingering in the afterglow of the camaraderie and companionship, the same feeling of mutual dread creeping across the little gaggle of young adults he finds himself drawn to as they start the slow trudge back to real life. The layers going back on. The Flannel. The Denim. Dad's Jacket.

The envy as they watch a lot of the older folks and even some of the younger ones - a little bit more every year, as time goes by - laughing and smiling and sparing a quick moment for a mournful but understanding glance in the direction of those who have to build their walls back up before getting into their cars. Heading back home as they are.

Unafraid not to change back.

He never talks about it. Not even when Sam mentions offhand about a show he attended once in college. Just makes a snarky comment about corsets and Tim Curry that has Sam punching him hard in the arm with a reprimand about being bigoted. That's fine. Dean would still rather that than have people know the truth. Not yet, anyway.

He doesn't talk about it to Cas, either. It's not just because it doesn't seem like it would be up the guy's alley, although he was admittedly tempted when putting together his list of things show the falling angel all of what humanity has to offer. He doesn't doubt that even if it's not the guy's cup of tea, Cas would still find it to be beautiful in some way. Probably like, as a tableau of humanity at its purest, most free, or some sappy shit like that.

No, the reason Dean doesn't tell Cas is because it's still too intimate of a thing for him, and with this... whatever it is that's been slipping between, growing stronger with each pass around, he's afraid that letting Cas into that part of his life would leave him tumbling to quickly, too recklessly, into something he knows he's not ready for. Besides, he hasn't been to a show in years anyway. Not since hell.

But then one day.

One day Jack is sitting at the kitchen table, nervously admitting that he's been talking to some kids in town, and he really likes them, and... and not just the girls. Not just one of them either. The whole group. And he doesnt know if that's weird or not and he doesn't know what to do and he doesn't know if that's normal... do other people feel this way? Are there other people out there who are... like me? Or is this... a nephilim thing. Am I the only one.

And for a moment Dean wonders if it would be weird, taking his kid to go see it. But then he thinks about some of the older couples he'd met and talked too, who'd been excited to introduce their kids around Dean's age. Like taking your kid out to a bar for their 21st. A moment to show them a world they could be a part of, as they grow into who they are. To help them find their place in it.

Dean rarely ever let himself wish for things to be Other Than They Are, trying to be enough of a realist to not get stuck in wistful what ifs and maybes. But in those moments? Those moments he found himself wishing for a parent like that. Not that Rhonda's introduction to it wasn't pretty damn great, but the thought of it being a parent, a... a dad, showing him a world he could be a part of and saying 'it's okay, I'm part of it too, go enjoy it but know that I'm here with you when you need me,' it was... well.

Dean clears his throat, realizing just how long Jack's anxious silence had gone on while his brain rattled around in the past.

"Hey kid, how uh... how about we catch a movie tonight? That older theater, the one that's... not the Regal, what's it called... uh, whichever. They're playing Rocky Horror tonight."

Jack's head tilts at the apparent subject change, in the way that reminds Dean so much of Cas, and for a moment he almost calls down the hall to invite the angel along.

But no, he settles back into his original plan. This is a Him And Jack kinda thing. This time, at least.

"A horror movie?"

"Haha, no, not quite," Dean grins, standing and ruffling the kids hair. "C'mon. I know none of my old stuff fits me anymore, so I'll need new gear anyway. I'll take you to pick out an outfit. Bring your ID."

[zepskies]

@evznackles Aw hell, you made me cry on this one (happy tears of course), friend. 🥹🥹

First of all, thank you for reading this story even though you're not usually one for AUs. I used to be of a similar mind before I read another firefighter!Dean AU that got me HOOKED on the idea. (Also I'm a huge fan of procedural cop, law, and fire shows like Chicago Fire and Med, and Law & Order). Working on this story gave me a chance to combine those interests with some of my favorite SPN characters.

When I was first brainstorming for this, I remembered Dean saying towards the end of season 1 that when he was a kid, he wanted to be a firefighter. That stuck with me too, because at his heart that's who Dean is. He has a "first responder" mentality. His drive is saving people and helping people, and his inclination is to be a leader. As for Sam, him being an ADA prosecutor made sense to me, as did John being a homicide detective on a vendetta: hunting for the man who killed his wife.

Adding Cas as his partner was just good fun for me, and it opened up a great way to connect all the characters, bringing in Ellen and Jo and the Roadhouse being their hangout spot, as well as Jack being the new guy in the firehouse, the brotherhood and partnership with Benny, the friction with Gordon, Andrea being the MC's best friend, all of it started to click into place for me. I only wanted to add canon characters in if it made sense for the story, not just to shoehorn them in. (But I did have fun with some of the little cameos lol.)

Though I'll admit, this AU was hard to write at times. 😭 Not only because it was my first time writing one, and not just in weaving the murder mystery around the central love story (that final act was particularly tricky lol)...but also the emotional aspect. As you know, parts of this story were very personal for me. George was so dear to me -- his personality was loosely based on my own grandpa lol. (I might do another one-shot including George, during one of the time lapses between chapters.)

What also made this story difficult was the sensitive nature of what the reader was going through with her job (sexual harassment and more). It was not based on my personal experience but on friends of mine, and other real stories I've heard and been both disgusted and saddened by.

But that's why I'm so grateful you enjoyed this so much! 🥹💕💕

you have a talent. I really mean that. I honestly don't even know how I still get shocked every freaking time, cause when I start reading anything written by you, I just immediately know it'll be good. but you still manage to surprise me! you deserve so much more recognition, like why the fuck aren't everyone on this site talking about you?! WE HAVE AN EXCEPTIONAL WRITER HERE PEOPLE!!!!

Thank you my lovely, you're so damn sweet. I appreciate you so much!! 😭😭

I know we're "just doing fanfic" out here, but I try to do my best every time. It's amazing to me when I manage to connect with people like you through my writing. It's the reason I continue to write and share on here. 💞

anyway, I hope you don't get tired of having me in your notifications, cause I plan to be around for as long as you're writing and posting. don't mind me, I'm just your biggest fan. 🤓 I really am tho. right now, I have a headache that it's SO BAD I want to RIP MY EYES OUT WITH MY NAILS, and still, I couldn't stop reading until I finished it. that's just how good your story is.

Girl never apologize for that! It genuinely puts a smile on my face every time I see a notification from you! But I'm so sorry to hear you're not feeling well. Work and life stuff have been stressing me the fuck out and I also had a headache almost all day yesterday. I hope you're feeling better, hun! 💓💓💓 (But thank you for sticking with this roller coaster ride through until the end lol.)

I can't wait to read whatever you're cooking next. I just know I'll love it anyway.

Well, I don't know if you're a Big Sky/Beau Arlen fan. It's another Jensen character lmao. (My full masterlist is here: Big Sky Masterlist). But I've actually been working on a new series. 😅

And I'm getting ready to post the first chapter this Sunday!

Here's the masterlist post: Take Me Home. ❤️

this was perfect and magnificent and amazing and beautiful and wonderful. 💞💓💕💖 AND I LOVE YOU DEAN WINCHESTER! 😭💞

You genuinely made my whole week with this, thank you, lovely!! 😭💕💕 And I love him too. I think Dean might be my favorite character to date -- across all fandoms loll.

Smoke Eater - Epilogue

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.

🔥 Series Masterlist

AN: We made it, friends. 🥹

Word Count: 2,800 Tags/Warnings: Fluff and feels, that is all.

Epilogue: “Easy as Pie”

The week after the incident at Stull Storage, John, Sam, Dean, and Eileen sat down to a family dinner that you cooked in the brothers’ apartment. Aside from Eileen, all of you had injuries in one form or another (but even Sam’s shiner was healing up nicely). 

For dessert, you were a bit nervous as you brought out a freshly baked apple pie. Dean caught you mentally bracing yourself before you set it down on the table. He shot you a reassuring smile.

“Looks great,” he said.

Your returning smile was tentative as you divvied out the first piece. Dean was just a bit disappointed when you handed it to John. His eyes followed the plate.

You smiled more genuinely, and made sure the next generous piece you cut was for your boyfriend.

After everyone was served, you sat down with your own plate and encouraged them all to dig in. Forks hit the crumbly top and cinnamon apple filling, and there were collective hums of pleasure throughout the room.

You brightened and glanced over at the rest of the table. John looked contemplative. His fork rested on the plate for a moment.

He gave a rare smile. “That’s some damn good pie.” 

Sam nodded. “For sure.”

Dean looked over at you after he’d already demolished half of his serving. A smile spread across his face.

“Best slice of pie since I can remember,” he said, giving you a wink.

Both of you knew the weight of that review. It humbled you, making you blush.

You smiled and leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek, rough with stubble.

“I guess this recipe’s a keeper then,” you said.

He hummed in agreement. When he went in for a real kiss, it was sweet indeed.

From then on, you all spent the evening talking, eating, laughing, with you and Sam drinking wine and everyone else their beer. You updated them on Andréa and Benny, who were planning their trip to Greece in a few months.

"We should take a vacation," Dean pointed out, gesturing around the table. "All of us."

Sam raised his brows at his brother. "Oh yeah? Where would you wanna go?"

Dean thought about it for a moment. He glanced at you, and found you smiling.

"The beach," he said. "Somewhere warm and chill, with those fancy little umbrellas in your drink."

"Hmm...I like that," you said, as your smile grew. Tropical, relaxing, a warm sun on your face, and your boyfriend in some board shorts. You could definitely go for some of that.

"Sounds nice," Eileen agreed.

"I'll look into some destinations," Sam nodded. Dean nudged his brother's shoulder.

"One word, dude. Maui."

Sam snorted. "We can't afford Maui."

"Hey, you never know, man! Time to check out some Groupons."

"You can't get a Groupon to go to Hawaii," Sam said. His face was scrunched in what Dean liked to call, his "Know It All" face.

"Are you kidding me?" Dean shot back. "There's a friggin' Groupon for everything nowadays!"

Of course, that devolved into a familiar sibling argument that was only disrupted when John broke into the conversation. He admitted something shocking—that he was taking some time off work, for the first time since he took his sons camping when they were kids. Sam and Dean teased the workaholic for finally "slowing down" in his old age, but it was all in good fun.

You and Eileen shared a knowing look. It all felt as close to family as you’d had in a long time.

And for Dean, it felt like he could breathe again. He’d gotten a text shortly after dessert—from Cas.

Jo made it into the Police Academy. She starts training in a few weeks.

Dean’s lips quirked with a smile.

How do you know?

I’ll be instructing a couple of her classes. Firearm Safety and Weapons Training.

Dean nearly laughed.

Good luck, buddy. Try not to get your ass shot.

To which Cas replied:

My ass will be nowhere within range, I assure you.

Dean did chuckle at that. When you turned to him and asked what was so funny, he just shook his head and grabbed onto your hand on the table.

“Nothin’. I’m good,” he said. He pressed your knuckles to his lips. “I’m real good.”

You smiled at that.

Later that night, Dean walked his father to the door while you and Sam were locked in a trivia game, and Eileen tried to play mediator between two very competitive nerds.  

“Dad,” Dean said.

John stopped with a hand on the door, turning back to his eldest.

Dean paused to gather his thoughts, but he eventually grasped his father’s arm and met his gaze.

“Just wanted to say thank you, for what you did for her,” he said, discreetly nodding at you. He kept his voice quiet. “You protected her when I couldn’t.”

John paused, seeming surprised. His brows furrowed as he shook his head.

“You don’t need to thank me for that, son,” he said.

“Yeah, I do,” Dean insisted. He’d heard every bit of that conversation between John and Daniel in that warehouse. His father had been willing to lay down and die for you, not a moment’s hesitation.

Cas was right, Dean had realized. His father did have a line.

John let out a breath. “What matters is we made it here.”

Dean nodded, though he dimmed.

“Yeah, came with one hell of a price tag.”

It still weighed heavily on him, what he’d had to do to end Daniel Savage. In the end, John had lied on his statement of the events. He’d taken responsibility for grabbing Daniel’s gun and shooting him between the eyes.

“It’s the only thing I can do to keep you out of this,” John had told his son. “Should’ve been my hand anyway.”

Dean appreciated what his dad had done to protect him from the law, and his career, but it still made him feel dirty. A strike to his integrity as a first responder, and as a man. That was something he’d just have to deal with, along with everything else.

John distracted him, however, by gripping his shoulder this time.

“You saved my life, Dean,” he said. And with a hint of a smile, “It’s what you’re good at.”

Dean met his dad’s gaze. He wasn’t quite able to smile back, but there was new warmth in his chest.

“Oh,” said John, raising a finger. “Before I forget…”

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a silver engagement ring with a small stone. To Dean, it looked familiar…

When it finally struck him what this was, he looked up at John in surprise. Dean glanced back to make sure you weren’t looking before he tentatively took the ring.

“Is this…Mom’s?” he asked.

John nodded. “The stone’s nothing special. You might wanna get it reset. Sam already figured out his uh…situation on his own. Maybe you want to find your own too.”

Dean knew what he meant. Sam had bought a ring last year, but he'd proposed to Eileen just a few days ago. They were already planning to get married a year from now, along with buying their first house together.

Dean examined the ring he held with a softer smile.

“Nah, it’s perfect,” he said.

He didn’t know yet if you two were ready for that step. A lot had happened in such a short amount of time…but he knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

He had time to do things right with you.

A few months later, Dean’s medical leave ended. He was physician-approved for duty, psych evaluation and all. He showed up for his shift bright and early.

He entered the doors of Firehouse 25 to a host of his friends and makeshift family cheering, complete with cheesy streamers and an even cheesier cake that Meg held. On the top was scrawled: Good Job Cracking Your Head.

“A smoke eater returns to the house!” Benny remarked with a grin. “Good to see ya, brother.”

He clapped Dean heavily enough on the back that it earned a grunt and a laugh out of him.

“You too, man,” Dean replied.

Meg set down the cake on the table and was the next one to playfully punch him in the shoulder.

“You have a nice little vacation?” she teased.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah, complete with bottomless margaritas and little umbrellas.”

She smirked, but she was still earnest when she touched his arm.

“Welcome back.”

Dean chuckled. “Ooh, now I know you missed me.”

It was her turn to roll her eyes as she waved a dismissive hand at him. Chuck and Jack gave more sincere well wishes, with the latter actually hugging Dean. He’d tolerated it with a smile.

Gordon clapped him on the shoulder once Jack was finally done, and Dean sent the Candidate off with a bright smile on his face.

Gordon smiled. “Welcome back, Lieutenant.”

Dean nodded and shook the other man’s hand. “Thanks for holdin’ down the fort, man.”

“No problem,” Gordon said. “Any time you wanna go on sabbatical, you just let me know. Acting Lieutenant’s almost better than the real deal. It’s not as much paperwork.”

Dean chuckled, but before he could sling back a retort, the alarm went off. There was a working house fire downtown, according to the dispatcher in the overhead speaker.

Bobby appeared in the hall and clapped his hands once.

“All right, gear up. We’re startin’ off the day right,” he said. He gave Dean a look that was somehow both pleased to see him and stern at the same time. Bobby addressed him with a point of his finger.

“See me in my office before the end of shift,” he said. “We’ve got somethin’ to talk about.”

A few days later, Dean had the rare pleasure of welcoming you home from work on his day off. You trudged into the apartment with several bags and rolling a cooler behind you. He got up from the couch and grabbed some of the bags for you on your way to the kitchen.

“How did it go?” he asked, reaching out a hand to rub some flour off your cheek. You smiled brightly.

“Well, there was a little snafu with the mini quiche, but they loved the menu I proposed. They want me to cater the whole wedding!” you said.

“Whoa, that’s a lotta food,” Dean remarked. Once you’d dumped the rest of your stuff on the kitchen table, he slid an arm around your waist and brought you flush against him, earning a squeal from you.

You clung to his shoulders. “You still on for being my official taste tester?”

He stared at you with mock offense.

“Uh, obviously. Mini quiche are my weakness,” he teased. “Just another form of pie, far as I’m concerned.”

You giggled into his lips as he claimed you for a kiss. It was both sweet, and a bit naughty as his hands moved to squeeze your ass. His words were no less heartfelt.

“I’m proud of you, sweetheart,” Dean said. “I really am.”

 You smiled and stroked his cheek in answer.

The Monday morning after that family dinner a few months ago, you’d quit your job at Savage & Co. After a month of wracking your brain and your savings, you decided to start your own catering business.

It was your way of starting small, to try and get people in this town to know you for your food and baked goods. And maybe, if you were successful enough, you’d be able to open up your own bakery in a couple of years.

For once, you were going after what you truly wanted…but now, your career was only part of it.

You hadn’t forgotten your conversation with Dean about what he wanted for his future: of getting married someday, and having a family. Something he could build for himself. 

Not only did you want that for him, but you’d begun to crave that for yourself as well: a family of your own.

Realistically, you knew that part was years away for you and Dean. However, you had that in the back of your mind. Having your own business had always been your dream, but sometimes your dream could adjust. 

Or, it could become something new.

You’d also sold your grandparents’ house. You had contemplated going back, but you didn’t want to be reminded of how the police and the Arson Department had torn it apart after Daniel Savage threatened your life. You didn’t want to be reminded of where both of your grandparents died.

You loved that house, but you also knew it was time to let it go…

Because you finally understood what your grandfather had tried to tell you months ago.

A house did not make a home. And now, you’d managed to make a new one.

For his part, Dean had been happy to have you stay in his apartment. Sam was getting ready to move out in a few months anyway, as he and Eileen were deep into house hunting and planning their wedding.

“So…I’ve gotta tell you something,” said Dean, after he parted from your lips for a moment, and allowed you to breathe. His tone made you tilt your head in suspicion.

“It’s nothing bad,” he said, though he looked a bit nervous.

Your brows furrowed. You led him to the couch, where he held your hands in his. It took him a moment to get started. He seemed stuck on what he wanted to say, or maybe just how he wanted to say it.

“Whatever it is, I’m sure I can handle it,” you teased.

Dean gave you a smile. His shoulders relaxed a little.

“They want to promote me to Captain,” he said.

Your mouth fell open and your eyes went wide.

“They? Who’s they?” you asked.

Dean blew out a breath and scratched at the small scar on the side of his head.

“Apparently it came from the Battalion Chief.”

He explained that the Fire Department had gotten the full debrief from both Sam and John about Dean’s involvement in ending the serial arsons and murders committed by Nick and Daniel Savage. Without you and Dean, they wouldn’t have figured out Azazel’s identity, let alone stopped his criminal enterprise.

You smiled wide with excitement as you held Dean’s face in your hands.

“That’s amazing!” you said. You pulled him in for a hug. Though he held you back, you soon realized that you were happier than he seemed to be. You pulled back and carded your fingers through his hair, earning his gaze.

“What’s wrong, baby? This is great news!”

Dean’s lips pursed. “I don’t know. I broke ranks and defied a direct order at the Savage & Co. fire. And at the warehouse, I was even more reckless. I don’t want to be promoted for disobeying orders.”

You frowned at that, even as you continued to stroke through his hair.

“What did Bobby tell you?” you asked.

Once again, Dean sighed. He’d been called into Bobby’s office a few days ago, after his first shift back at 25.

He’d surprised the hell out of Dean.

“Did you break ranks that day, and put not just yourself, but Benny and the rest of your men in danger?” Bobby said. “You bet your ass.”

Dean averted his gaze. He stood with his hands drawn behind his back, willing to take whatever punishment the Chief saw fit.

“But,” Bobby continued. His fingers tapped on his desk, where he sat on the edge across from Dean. “It wasn’t fair of me to stop you from lookin’ for your girlfriend.”

Dean’s attention sharpened at that, and he frowned in confusion. Bobby didn’t apologize. Ever.

“Sir?” Dean asked uncertainly.

Bobby softened the slightest bit. He heaved a sigh.

The man was a widower, but he still wore his wedding ring. He toyed with it now on his finger.

“We could’ve radioed in with the other teams already at work. I could’ve paired half of your team with the top floor units. But in the heat of the moment, I made a judgment call,” Bobby said, leveling Dean with a look. “As a leader, you’ll continue makin’ mistakes. You’ll make the wrong call. It’s how you learn to keep leading that matters. And there ain’t a person in this house that wouldn’t have gone up to pull your fool head outta that fire.”

Dean stayed quiet in his discomfort. He still wasn’t entirely sure why Bobby was telling him all of this.

“That being said, this is coming from the top,” Bobby said. His gruffness was back. He took a folder off his desk and handed it to Dean. “Here’s the next step, if you choose to accept it.”

You were crying by the end of his story. Dean cupped your cheek and caught your tears with his thumb. You grabbed that hand and gently squeezed.

“He believes in you, Dean,” you said. “So do I. And it’s my turn to be so damn proud of you.”

Dean graced you with a smile for that one. Yours brightened. You moved off the couch and slid into his lap, twining your arms around his neck. Dean welcomed you with an arm around your waist and a hand sliding up your jean-clad thigh.

“Guess I’m gonna have to get used to calling you Captain,” you said with a smirk.

Captain Winchester, Dean considered, rolling the weight of it around in his mind.

He chuckled. “Okay, maybe I'm liking the sound of that.”

“Mhmm, that’s what I thought,” you said, shortly before you pressed your lips to his. He squeezed your hip while your deft fingers once again slipped into his hair. With each new kiss, Dean felt more of his uncertainty melt away.

A new thought occurred to him then. It made him start to grin against your lips, and you parted from him.

“What?” you asked in amusement.

Dean slipped a hand into his pocket, where he felt the outline of his mother’s newly resized ring.

“Hey,” he said. Your brows drew together in suspicion at the gleam in his eye. 

“Hey, yourself,” you quipped. 

Dean breathed in deep, steeling himself. He looked into your eyes, and he smiled. 

“I’ve got a question for you.”

AN: ...And I think we all know what her answer was. ❤️‍🔥

I can't believe it! I started posting this story on September 15, the beginning of Hispanic Heritage Month. Almost four months later, we finally made it to the end of Smoke Eater. 🥹

Thank you to all of you who've been following along at any point of the journey. Your comments and feedback have truly touched me, and have helped keep me going! 💕

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

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[xsuexsylvester]

Disgusting.

Ah, Florida.  The armpit of the butt crack of the tepid pool of sweat in America’s taint.  Home to methheads, meth labs, meth houses, meth dealers, and for some reason a theme park dedicated to a mouse who is probably on meth as well.  The stench of this state is noticeable even from the air, and I honestly feel like I need my trusty old gas mask just to walk around without choking on it.  Las Vegas might be tacky, but at the very least it’s tacky and rich.  Florida only managed to get halfway before they threw their hands up and decided that the risk of being eaten by alligators was worth it as long as they were in driving distance of a roller coaster.  The only reason I can figure that NASA launched shuttles from here was in the hopes that they could eventually set the entire state ablaze and just let it burn.

And the so-called students I’ve seen since I made it to this island, which I can only assume is floating atop a pile of lizards so desperate to get away that they tried to de-evolve back into fish?  Submissives who think it’s appropriate to walk around holding hands with their Dominants.  Switches just acting however they want.  God help them once I get a chance to talk to their Deans.

In the meantime, I expect anyone with the last name Sylvester to present themselves immediately.  We’ll be leaving campus, so bring your walking shoes.  I’ll be driving, of course, but I’ll expect you to jog alongside the car.  And may whatever gods rule this godforsaken place have mercy on your souls if you’re not here by the time my stopwatch hits zero.  As for the rest of you, I welcome any and all intelligence on what the spawn of my loins has been up to in this forsaken place.