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zepskies · 4 months ago

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@lamentationsofalonelypotato

Merry Christmas, my friend!! ❤️💚 First of all, I'm so honored that 'Twas the Night gave you some inspiration! 🥹 I'm excited to dive into this special Christmas edition of Take a Chance.

Aww poor Ben. I love how we start with shading in his past Christmases compared to what he's starting to experience now with the reader. We come at it from the same angle of headcanon, that Ben's mom was the only person who truly loved him in his family. So it was such a good detail that after she died, Christmases became just more of the same toxic/apathetic atmosphere with his father, compounded by the impact of his mom's death.

Of course he's having a hard time choosing a proper Christmas gift for her, because when was the last time he gave someone a gift because he genuinely loved them? I feel like Countess wouldn't be a good example lol. So what's going to be a reflection of the relationship he has now? Especially because she's not one for flashiness, or more materialistic gifts.

And as much as Ben loved that about you, it was only making this worse for him.

Yup. 😂😂

"Still not quite right?" She asks, adjusting the sleeves of her navy blue blazer. "We have some bigger jewel-" "It's not the fucking size." Ben snaps frustrated.

Lmfao come on, Ben. Let's not take this out on others. 🤣

"I'm not your fucking buddy." Ben sighs under his breath.

Okay, Ben. You do you. 🤣🤣

Ben had no intention of setting foot inside, but you were curious and even though it made Ben's throat tight to walk down the dusty cobwebbed halls, the wonder on your face as you walked through made the cold memories of the world he knew before he was a supe fade into the background. And this storage unit was all that was left of that life.

Wow, that's so interesting. Taking a trip literally through Memory Lane and walking through his family's mansion. I've never thought about that before, but I imagine it would be one of those things that Ben, for the longest time, couldn't bring himself to sell, but also couldn't visit. Like a mausoleum of his old life.

When Ben opens the trunk, he catches the smell of the floral perfume his mother used to wear and after all these years it makes him remember the tight hugs she'd give him the moment she sent him off to bed and the tight hugs she'd given him when he rushed down the stairs on Christmas morning.

You're killin' me, friend!! 😭😭

Something that you would have ended up doing about an hour before you had to go to the airport, but you knew that would only annoy Ben. But you liked annoying him.

Lmaooo deeply relatable. I feel like it would be oh so funny to intentionally getting on his nerves (knowing he wouldn't hurt you). 😂

He might not have been big on sharing, but your boyfriend was good at listening. Not just pretending to listen, but actually being quiet and wanting to learn more about what you're saying. You'd thought it was odd when you became roommates and you realized just how much Ben listened and remembered what you told him, but now it was one of the reasons that made you love your boyfriend more.

Oh, it's because he actually cares. 💗

In all honesty, you didn't hate how old fashioned Ben was, if anything it was a relief, a reprieve from the way the modern boys treated women. It was nice to finally be with a man who actually gave a shit about you and cared what you wanted.

People want to think there aren't any good aspects to "traditional/old-fashioned" men, but for the men who are actually good men, traditional doesn't necessarily mean outdated or toxic, so thank you for including this tidbit.

Her gift to him was so very sweet!! Of course she made him something heartfelt, and he appreciated it because it was a genuine "first" for him, having someone give him a hand-made gift from the heart. 💚💚💚

And his gift to her was absolutely perfect. 🥹 A keepsake from his mother? Him basically saying he wishes she could've met his girl? I'm dying of happiness from the sheer fluff. 😭💗

This was a beautiful addition to the Take a Chance story, and kind of feels like an epilogue in a way, even though I know you're working on that one too. I loved this, friend!!

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV and Reader POV

Summary: All Soldier Boy wants for Christmas is to find the perfect gift for you and all you want is for your boyfriend to have the best Christmas he has in forty years. Reader is a supe with plant powers. (Takes place in my Take A Chance On Me Series- 4 months after they get together, but can be read as stand alone!)

Tropes: Established Relationship, First Christmas, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy

Word Count: 8.5K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Illusions to Sex, Fluff, Soft Soldier Boy, A little bit of self-deprecating thoughts, Soldier Boy is Mean to Hughie, Mention of drinking/drugs, Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Take A Chance On Me Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Song Inspiration: Little Things By ABBA

A/N: I know I should be working on the epilogue of "Take a Chance on Me," but @zepskies wrote a lovely Christmas fic called 'Twas the Night for Dean Winchester, and it really just got me in a mood to write some Christmas Fluff! 🥰

Soldier Boy POV

Ben frowned at the delicate necklace laid on the black velvet cloth in front of him, the 10 carat diamonds catching in the brilliant lights that lined the ceiling of the jewelry store. It was the eleventh piece of jewelry that he'd asked the woman behind the counter to remove from the display case, and it still wasn't right.

Ben had waited until the last possible moment to go Christmas shopping. It wasn't because he'd forgotten or because he'd been so busy he hadn't had time to shop or because he'd been called away on a mission, but rather Ben kept putting it off because he didn't want to think about it.

It was his first Christmas back in the U.S, and it was already proving to be one so different than the ones he'd known before.

Christmas for him in his youth when his mother was alive was filled with light and joy. Each room of his family's mansion strung with tinsel, adorned with holly and festive wreaths, and a Christmas tree so large that it put all others to shame and sent the smell of pine wafting thorough the large home. He remembered the lavish parties his mother threw with women in gorgeous gowns and men dressed in suits taking crystal glasses from silver trays, remembered the warmth in the kitchen as his mother baked and rolled fresh pastry, remembered the taste of the hot chocolate on the tip of his tongue that his mother made him before she sent him to bed on Christmas Eve, and remembered her tight embrace and the smell of her floral perfume on Christmas morning when he'd run down the stairs into the living room.

Ben's jaw tightened.

Christmas without her was different, the large mansion where he lived with his father was cold and dark. The hallways desolate and frozen in the winter months that lead into spring, the kitchen no longer heated by the warmth of the oven or infused with the smell of gingerbread, the parlor no longer tinkling with the sounds of glasses and the laughter of guests, the living room no longer housed a Christmas tree so tall that it made the Eiffel tower look like a trinket, and there were no longer Christmas parties where people danced into the wee hours of the morning and poured themselves into bed smelling of champagne and eggnog.

All that was left was the drunken stupor of his father, the harsh words that echoed down the long hallways, and the urge for Ben to find the nearest bottle and drown himself in it.

Ben spent most of his years as a supe trying to forget the years that followed his mother's death and also his Christmases as a supe washing away the memory of the ones that seemed to be infused with the magic of Christmas in his youth.

Ben spent them at Legend's Christmas party with his woman of the hour clinging to his arm, making painful small talk and waiting until the party turned into a hedonistic thrall of sweat and skin as so many others had. And the next morning when he woke up from the fog, he turned back to the little white line that promised to make him forget and the amber bottle that did little to ease the reality that started to sink in.

But this year was different, because he had you.

You who loved Christmas more than anyone he'd ever met, you who was slowly reminding him how much he used to love Christmas as a child, you who'd dragged him to go Christmas tree shopping before Thanksgiving, you who had encouraged him to help decorate the small apartment the two of you shared with so many Christmas lights it was blinding, and you who had planned something Christmas themed every week for the past month whether it be baking Christmas cookies or watching Christmas movies while drinking hot chocolate on the couch. And in each moment, you'd found some way to include him in it.

Ben wasn't used to that.

He wasn't used to someone wanting him there with them and someone like you going out of your way to include him in everything you did.

If a person had tried to tell him in the past that he'd ended up with someone like you, someone who smiled easily, someone who always put other people first, someone who actually gave a shit about him, someone who was always so damn warm and welcoming, someone who included in him everything you did in a way that didn't make Ben feel like an old grump, and someone who tried their best to make sure that Ben remembered every day that you wanted him around, he would have laughed in that person's face.

And yet there you were.

Truth be told Ben knew that the old version of him probably wouldn't have let someone like you close to him, let alone fall in love with them.

Ben hadn't met anyone else like you in the numerous years he'd been alive and he really didn't want to fuck it up. He'd fucked up so many other things in his life and he hadn't cared, but if it involved you, he wouldn't dare.

Hence, the current dilemma of him standing in the crowded Tiffany store at 8 pm two days before Christmas with you waiting at home for him to exchange gifts. Ben wanted to pick the perfect gift for you, but nothing felt right.

He'd never given much thought to what to buy someone for Christmas. In the past usually an expensive piece of jewelry, a handbag, a dress, or a car would have made any of Ben's many escapades swoon, but not you. Ben had tried to give you jewelry before, expensive jewelry that would have made any of those other women drop to their knees, but you were different.

And as much as Ben loved that about you, it was only making this worse for him.

The one time that he'd tried to give you a gift outright, a beautiful diamond and emerald drop pendant with earrings to match, you hadn't been impressed. Sure, you'd thought that it was beautiful, but you'd told him that you liked gifts that "meant something."

Whatever the fuck that meant.

And he knew for a fact that the 10 carat diamond necklace on the velvet pillow in front of him would mean nothing to you.

"Fuck." Ben murmured under his breath, and the saleswoman stiffened.

"Still not quite right?" She asks, adjusting the sleeves of her navy blue blazer. "We have some bigger jewel-"

"It's not the fucking size." Ben snaps frustrated.

He was running late. He knew that you were waiting at home for him to bring back dinner and to give him his present, the one that he was sure would be thoughtful and perfect for him because you were always so damn caring.

The other shoppers were pushing and shoving their way to the counters where other salespeople stood in identical navy blazers and white button down shirts, the tension and buzz of two days to Christmas electrifying the air, while Christmas music that Ben couldn't recognize played in the background.

His supe hearing made it worse. Sometimes it was a bit overwhelming and as much as Ben pretended that he didn't have PTSD, he did. Being surrounded by this many people was not helping. It was in moments like this when you were there, would hold entwine your fingertips with his and brush your thumb gently over the back of his hand to ground him as if you could sense his discomfort.

Ben hadn't ever had someone care enough to notice things like that. Another reason why he wanted to find you the perfect gift, because you put up with all his shit and didn't ask for anything in return.

"Ben?" He hears a familiar voice ask, hesitant, and he turns to see Annie standing a few feet inside the open doorway. S

he's wearing a black puffer jacket and her hair is hidden under a red stocking cap, while Hughie holds the door for her. Hughie's arms were laden down with bags while Annie's remained bare. The winter wind blew in through the space, flecking bits of snow onto the rugs that had been laid out to avoid the customers sliding through the sludge.

"Hey." Ben grunts, not quite smiling.

He wasn't good at talking to your best friend or her boyfriend. Personally he thought that Hughie was a fucking pussy and that he didn't have the balls to tell Annie no, but the one time Ben had told you that, you'd only rolled your eyes and told him that Hughie "loved Annie."

Ben loved you and he did have the balls to tell you no, but Ben thought that sometimes it was better to keep his mouth shut and do what you asked. Not to mention Ben hated saying no to you when it was something that could make you happy. Ben liked making you as happy as you made him.

He flinched at the thought. The self-deprecating monologue was beginning to seep in, the one that told him you were turning him into a "pussy" and that he should cut and run. The same monologue that made him make a mistake and run back to Vought a few months ago when he should have run to you.

Ben shakes it off.

"What are you doing here? I thought you two were going to leave this morning for Illinois?" Annie asks in surprise used to Ben's grouchy demeanor.

Your grandmother turned Christmas into a two day extravaganza, complete with a Christmas Eve and a Christmas Day party. And although Ben and you were supposed to begin the 14 hour drive to Illinois this morning, your grandmother had insisted the two of you catch a flight first thing tomorrow.

"Decided to catch a flight tomorrow." Ben replies.

Ben was secretly happy, because flying meant that he wasn't going to have to drive 14 hours in the snow. The two of you had driven to Illinois once before, and Ben hadn't minded it. You’d been more upset with him for not letting you drive, but Ben liked driving. Driving meant that he was in control and in an emergency situation he wouldn't have to reach over the console and yank the wheel to save the two of you and driving meant that you could relax in the passenger seat and work on whatever it was you were crocheting.

"Like us!" Hughie flashes Ben a wide smile that Ben doesn't feel the need to return. “You should have told us. We could have all traveled together!”

Ben's frown deepens at the thought at being stuck in a metal tube for hours with Hughie and he knew that if you were here you would probably elbow him in the side and tell him to "be nice." If anyone had ever tried to do that to him in the past, he would have ripped their arm off, but not you.

"Last minute shopping?" Hughie asks trying again.

Ben dragged his eyes over the numerous bags hanging from Hughie's arms. "Yeah. You too?"

"Mhmm. We just finished." Annie replies. Her gaze drops to the diamond necklace on top of the display case that the saleswoman is fiddling with. "Is that for-"

"No. Of course not!" Ben says sharper than he means to, shoulders tensing. But him standing in this store when he knew that you were waiting at home for him to celebrate Christmas made him feel like Annie and Hughie had caught him red-handed. "She doesn't like jewelry." He adds referring to you as he takes a step back from the counter and the sales associate who looks confused.

“But sir-“ The woman begins to say, but Ben waves a hand to shut her up.

"Why do you think that?" Annie asks interrupting the woman.

"Because she yelled at me when I bought her that diamond and emerald necklace!" He shouts so loud that some of the other customers turn to stare at him. "This was a fucking mistake, I have to go-" Ben starts to stomp out the door and past Annie not sure where he's going, but she shifts to stand in his way. His eyes narrow in annoyance, thinking about all the ways that he could move her.

He only put up with Annie because she was your best friend and he knew that if he did anything to her then it would upset you, and Ben didn't like upsetting you.

Well, he did think that it was cute when you got angry with him. Your eyebrows scrunched together, your cheeks turned a cute shade of pink, and your eyes seemed to glow with the force of your anger. There were few people who had the courage to tell him off, but the more you did it, the more he started to like it.

But this was different, and now thinking about you only reminded him of his current dilemma.

"Ben, wait a minute." Annie says.

"What?" He snaps

He could practically feel the seconds ticking away until he had to go back to the apartment. It was the first time that he'd ever dreaded going home and seeing you and fuck he hated every single moment of it.

"She does like jewelry." Annie's mouth drops into a sympathetic smile.

Ben tried not to get more angry when he saw the pitying look in her eye. He didn't need her pity, didn't need anyone's pity! He was still Soldier Boy damnit!

"Then why the fuck did she-"

"She doesn't like this kind of jewelry." Annie clarifies. "She like vintage stuff, simple, refined. Hell, I have to practically drag her away from the display cases at Atomic Archives."

"Atomic Archives?" Ben asks hesitantly. He had no idea what Annie was talking about. You'd never mentioned that place before.

"Yeah, it's our favorite antique store. It’s about two blocks over from where the plant shop used to be.”

"Can you show me where it is?" Ben says it before he can stop himself, his heart surging with hope at the possibility of finding the perfect gift for you.

"I mean I-" Annie begins to say, but Hughie interrupts.

"Babe, didn’t you say that the owner was closed this week because she went out of town?" Hughie asks her, throwing a sympathetic look in Ben's direction that made him bristle.

"Oh, right." Annie sighs.

Ben felt the hope inside pop and deflate like a pricked balloon, but the longer he stood there in the crowded shop, with the ostentatious jewelry twinkling under the lights, the buzz of the chatter of other shoppers, and the ridiculous new-age Christmas music that grated on his ears, he began to have an idea.

"Come on." Ben might have said it as a suggestion, but it wasn’t open for debate. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he needed Annie and unfortunately that meant that Hughie was going to tag along.

"What?" Annie sputtered.

"Come the fuck on. I don’t have time for this." Ben snaps back and stomps out the doorway past Annie and Hughie into the snow.

"But what about-" Hughie begins to say and Ben whirls around to glare at him, eyes narrowing. "Okay you got it. Lead the way buddy." Hughie nods his head in agreement.

"I'm not your fucking buddy." Ben sighs under his breath.

Soldier Boy POV

"This place is really murdery." Ben hears Hughie whisper to Annie from somewhere behind him. "Do you think Ben is going to try to kill us? Should I call Butc-"

"I'm not going to fucking kill you!" Ben snaps, pulling out his keys, the jingle of the metal echoing down the long hallway. "And I guess you really can't make a decision without that British fuck can you?”

The storage unit warehouse was desolate, but that was to be expected, it was after all two days to Christmas and most were more focused on buying things to put in their storage units than moving things out. The lights along the roof of the steel gray hallway flicker and throw long shadows over the navy blue doors of the units doing little to alleviate the creepy aura.

In hindsight Ben did agree that this particular storage space was "murdery," but it was the only one that he could get close to the apartment last minute. The same apartment that Ben has been trying to convince you to move out of.

It wasn't the safest neighborhood, and Ben hated the thought that you'd lived there as long as you had, walking home at night alone before he moved in. Now it wasn't a problem because Ben never let you walk by yourself. And as hard as you'd fought him not to live in a "big fancy apartment" all Ben wanted was to live somewhere where he could imagine staying permanently. Not in a small one bedroom apartment where he had to stoop in the shower, the bed barely fit in the bedroom, and seemed too small for one person let alone two.

He knew that he was wearing you down, but he still had a long way to go.

"Why are we here then?" Hughie asks.

"You're here because your girlfriend wouldn’t come without you.” Ben rolls his eyes as he fits the key into the thick padlock.

He was getting tired of listening to Hughie’s whining. He heard enough of that when he was stuck on missions with him, but he was tolerating him, for the moment at least. He had to, because if he didn't then he was never going to be able to find the perfect gift for you.

The interior of the storage unit isn't anything special. Ben didn't have much that he wanted to keep from his old life, as a supe or from his childhood. The things inside this storage unit were the only things that Ben had left that didn't cause him to be reminded of how his father chastised him or the drafty home that Ben returned to each time he got kicked out of another boarding school.

The mansion that had been in his family for decades had sat abandoned and locked up, hidden from the main roads so it was undisturbed after Ben's father died. Ben had gone to Philadelphia a few months ago to get things in order with the bank and prepare it for sale, but had been surprised when you told him you wanted to come.

He didn't think that you'd want to be involved in something so tedious, but it was almost as if you could sense how hard it was going to be for him, and you'd insisted.

And this storage unit was all that was left of that life.

Ben located the old steamer trunk with ease. It was a faded gray now, but Ben remembered the day his father bought it for his mother. When the grayed sides were a soft supple black, the metal lock and edging were a polished gold, and the rose patterned fabric that lined the inside was soft and covered in bright pink flowers.

He didn't like thinking about her or talking about her, but sometimes he would think of her when he was with you. Whenever you did something caring without being asked or whenever you took the time to check in to see how he was doing. Not that you were motherly, just that Ben hadn't had anyone in a long time care about little things like that.

The only other "relationship" he'd tried to have was with Crimson Countess and she didn't do any of the things for him that you did. There wasn't any comparison between the two of you as far as Ben was concerned.

He shakes off the memory the way he always does and moves some of his mother's clothes for the cherry wood carved box that he knows is in the bottom.

He opens it slowly, extracting a small velvet box from within, one of many inside that Ben probably should have taken to the bank ages ago for safe keeping. Ben's father had a tendency to buy things for his mother whenever he "messed up" and the small velvet boxes inside were proof of that.

Ben turns back to where Annie and Hughie are watching with curiosity at the door of the storage unit. "Here."

"Here?" Annie says hesitantly looking at the velvet box in Ben's hand.

"You brought us out here for a box?" Hughie huffs.

Ben narrows his eyes. "No. And if you tell anyone about this I'll turn you inside out, ass-wipe."

"Why do you always have to be so-" Hughie begins to say, but Annie nudges him in the side.

Ben wondered briefly if Annie and Hughie also tried to tolerate him the same way that he tolerated them for you.

"Wow." Annie says, her voice hushed and reverent when she opens the box with strands of her blonde hair falling out around the hat.

"You think she'll like it?" Ben clears his throat, trying not to wince at the question.

He hated that he was relying on Annie for this or relying on anyone in general. Ben would have rather taken a long walk off a short pier than anyone for help, but he was just so desperate to make sure that the first Christmas the two of you spent together was perfect.

You deserved that and Ben wanted to give it to you.

"She will."

"Good." Ben takes the box back, but decides to bring the wooden box with him back to the apartment just in case. His eyes narrow as he looks over at Hughie. "If you tell anyone about this, I'll shove your head up Butcher's ass. Then again, you two would probably enjoy something like that."

"You're welcome." Annie raises an eyebrow.

"Whatever." Ben mutters.

Reader POV

Ben was late and you were starting to worry.

Not that Ben was always punctual. The man was about as punctual as the White Rabbit, but rather Ben was sure to let you know when he was running late. Not to mention Ben was rarely late to things that he knew were important to you.

And tonight was special or at least you wanted it to be.

You look at your phone again to check the time, noting that it was nearing nine and Ben had told you he was going to be back at eight. You were trying not to think too much about it, busying yourself with other little things, like packing for your trip to your grandmother's home in Illinois. Something that you would have ended up doing about an hour before you had to go to the airport, but you knew that would only annoy Ben.

But you liked annoying him.

Ben's nostrils would flare, his jaw would flex, and the green of his eyes would darken in a way that sent a pleasurable shiver down his spine, but tonight you were too anxiety ridden at how late he was to care about making him annoyed.

Ben and you were supposed to leave this morning to drive the 14 hours to your hometown in Illinois, but you'd called your grandmother a few days ago and asked her if Ben and you could fly in instead.

You wanted the two of you have a Christmas alone before you dragged him back home and made him sit through the two holiday parties your grandmother threw. So you'd planned a quiet Christmas at home where the two of you could drink eggnog, watch some holiday movies, and exchange gifts before Ben was subjected to every single person you'd known since you were six.

But Ben didn’t seem to mind any of that.

Regardless, you were going all out this Christmas. It was Ben's first since he'd come back to the States and you wanted it to be perfect and it was the first Christmas the two of you were spending together as a couple.

The anxious energy that thrummed through your veins reached out into the numerous plants in your apartment, that shifted and stirred as your powers coaxed them forward. The vines that crept along the walls shook with an unnatural breeze, the Christmas tree grew an inch taller, the mistletoe hanging above the front door grew another few shimmering berries, the blackberry and raspberry vines that hung over your refrigerator fidgeted and wove together into a curtain while the tomato plant in the garden box above your sink dropped bright red fruit onto the counter, and the orange/lemon tree that sat behind your kitchen table blocking the view of the alley beyond shook it's branches for a moment. You could feel everything alive in your apartment leaning towards you as if waiting for your silent command.

Rex, the creature you'd created from broken vines and trampled leaves four months ago, flicks his eyes over to you sensing the same disturbance the rest of the plants inside could.

You bite the inside of your cheek fighting your urge to check your phone even though you know that less than a minute has passed since you'd last checked. Instead you fiddle with the ribbon on the lumpy wrapped gift that is perched on your lap.

Shopping for Ben had been difficult to say the least.

You weren't sure what to get your 104 boyfriend who'd lived as a hedonistic playboy for most of his life and you didn't like giving gift cards (you didn't think Ben would understand the concept) or giving people meaningless trinkets that they used once and then threw away (the Grinch was right about some things). You liked giving gifts that you put time and effort into that you were sure the recipient was going to love.

And you were sure that the package on your lap contained the perfect gift and you were excited to see the look on Ben's face when he unwrapped it.

Your cat Bean purrs where he sits beside you on the couch and Rex your, for lack of a better word, Dragon was watching the multicolored lights on the Christmas tree in the corner blink on and off.

It was bigger for your apartment than it should be, but Ben had insisted on getting it and you couldn't complain. Not when he genuinely seemed to be happy to stand there in the snow picking out a tree with you.

And after when no Uber driver agreed to pick the two of you up because of the tree, Ben had carried it on his shoulder fifteen blocks while you begged him to let you help. When you'd tried to take some of the tree, Ben had shifted it to his other shoulder and taken your hand instead, which wasn't what you meant when you reached out towards him, but you didn't let go, not when it was cold and Ben's hand was warm.

The one jammed into the corner of your small living room didn't have a leaf out of place or any signs of decay. You'd fixed that with a flick of a finger.

You'd gone all out with decorations.

Every plant in your apartment had lights of their own and ornaments that swung just out of reach from your pets. Christmas lights were strung down the hallway and there was a wreath on your bedroom door. Strands of mistletoe hung over every doorway in your apartment and there was one taped to the wall above your bed. That one was Ben's doing, but you couldn't complain, not when it felt so damn good to kiss him.

Ben hadn't spoken about the Christmases he spent in the past, but he'd listened to you talk about your Christmases growing up when the two of you decorated the tree with ornaments you'd collected over the years.

You sighed, a happy smile on your face. You didn't think that you could feel this way about anyone, let alone someone you hated for so long, but you did. Ben was changing the belief you had about what relationships should look like, and you were sure that you were doing the same for him.

You hear the jingle of keys and the fumble of the doorknob as Ben slowly opens the front door and you leap from the couch.

"You're home!" You exclaim as your body hits his full speed, but he doesn't move. It was difficult for you to produce enough force to move him, difficult for anyone really.

Ben chuckles "Miss me Petals?"

He moves the plastic bag of Chinese food to his left hand so he can hug you back, his right hand fitting comfortably over the small of your back to hold you tighter against him.

You could remember the first time you hugged him, when all he did was stand there with his hands at his sides awkwardly while you held on to him as tight as you could. This was better. Ben's embrace is warm and strong, unyielding, but full of the love that he’d had such a hard time admitting.

"Yes." You squeeze him hard, smiling into his jacket that's flecked with melting snow, cold against your skin, but the warmth of his body soaks through the chill and into you. You sigh, nuzzling further into him. "I was worried-"

"Why?" Ben's voice rumbles through his chest, against your cheek.

"Because you weren't home yet." You pull back to stare up at him. His brilliant green eyes catch in the multicolored strands of Christmas lights, strung through your apartment. There's snow caught in his dark hair, turning to water and dripping down into his face in the warmth of the apartment.

Ben frowns. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. You're here now." You smile arching up to kiss him. Ben groans into your mouth, his grip on you tightening as he deepens the kiss, pressing the hand on the small of your back just a little more to secure you against his chest.

You sigh softly, content in living in this moment with him for another few precious seconds. The heat of his body transferring into you the longer you stand pressed against him, soaking through your sweatpants and chunky sweater in the best way.

You'd never felt this way about anyone in the past. There hadn't been another boyfriend who'd treated you the way Ben did, no other boyfriend who'd cared about the little things, and no other boyfriend who you were so in love with. Even your first love so long ago faded into the background, the one you thought you'd never get over, and all that was left was Ben.

You're too excited about giving Ben his gift to eat. You sit cross-legged on the plush gray couch so close to him that your knees are touching the outside of his thigh as Ben places the boxes of food onto your coffee table. The anxious energy tingling in the pit of your stomach and buzzing in your chest so much that it's difficult to sit still.

And before Ben can give you your chopsticks, you thrust the lumpy wrapped package onto his lap with a wide smile.

"You first!" You say.

Ben shakes his head. "It should be ladies first."

“I’m not a lady Ben. We both know that-“

“Sorry sweetheart that’s the way it goes.”

“Don't be so old fashioned Gramps. It's 2024.” You roll your eyes at him, laughing at the cute frown that pulls at his lips when you use the nickname. Ben never liked it, but when you'd first met, Ben hadn't told you his real name, and you'd assigned him the nickname and it had stuck when you realized how much it annoyed him.

That was when he did everything in his power to annoy you as well, so it seemed like a good fit.

"And I really want you to open yours first." You plead as you lean towards him. "Oh, and this goes with it."

You reach down behind the couch to grab the small golden barrel cactus, avoiding the sharp yellow spines, and place it on the minimal space left on the coffee table. You'd crocheted a dark green sleeve to go around the terra cotta pot.

"You got me a cactus?" Ben snorts.

"I mean, I have so many plants in here and I thought that you'd want one that was yours. Plus, you'll never have to water it." You gesture with one hand to the numerous plants around the room, the ones bathed in the multicolored lights from the Christmas Tree, the ones with bright green leaves that unfurled towards the light, the others with hanging vines that trailed to the ground so thick that you couldn't remember the color of the wall, the apple tree with ripe red fruit, and the numerous herbs in the garden box that hung over your kitchen sink. "And I gave it a sweater."

"Why did you give it a sweater?"

"It’s used to a warm climate and because I had some yarn left over."

"From?"

"You're just going to have to open your gift and find out." You shrug, but can barely contain your excitement.

Ben shakes his head at you, but a smile twitches on the corner of his lips. You knew that your boyfriend loved you because you were different than anyone he'd ever met, and you reveled in that. You liked that even though Ben was older than you, that no matter how many other experiences he'd had in his life, you were a first for him just as Ben was a first for you.

He rips through the paper carefully, trying hard not to ruin what was inside, the sound of crinkling and tearing blocking out the Christmas playlist for a moment that you'd put on before Ben had come home, but you can hear the ABBA song clear as day.

For a moment he stares down at the gift not quite comprehending what the lumpy mass in his lap is, but then he picks it up.

It had taken a month for you to pick out the perfect dark green yarn that was soft but not too soft, green but not too green, and another two months for you to finish it when Ben wasn't home, but you were proud of the sweater that you'd made your boyfriend.

He stares at it for another few beats, holding it up to the light, and it makes you worry that maybe you should have bought him something at the mall instead.

"You made me a sweater?" He asks, there's something on the edge of his voice that you can't place, some traces of emotion that you're not able to identify.

"Yeah. I wanted to make you something." You clear your throat, worried. "I mean- you don't have any and I know that you keep saying you run a little warm, but I figured we're going to Illinois for Christmas and it might be cold."

Ben doesn't say anything and you start to feel the self-doubt come roaring in.

Why did I make him a sweater? I should have bought him some cologne or something.

"And you complained when Butcher sent you on that mission to Alaska last month and I just thought that-“ You press your lips into a tight line, shoulders drooping. “If you don't like it I can keep it for me-" You fumble, but before you can finish, Ben yanks you into his lap.

His hands cup your cheeks as he kisses you so fiercely that it wipes any doubts from your mind. You make a surprised sound in the back of your throat, but sink into the kiss. “Don’t you fucking dare.” Ben mutters against your lips.

Your blush burns against your face. “You like it?”

He nods. “ No one’s ever made me anything before.” His voice comes out a little bit gruff, as if he’s embarrassed to admit it, but it makes you smile.

“I figured and I wanted to change that.” Your fingertips dance over his forehead, brushing away the hair that’s fallen forward before your hand drops to cup his cheek, feeling the scratch of his beard against the palm of your hand. “But you’re sure you like it?”

Ben kisses you again, his large hands settling on your hips with an encouraging squeeze. “I do.”

“Good. Merry Christmas.” You wrap your arms around the back of his neck to hug him for a minute, sinking into his embrace with a happy smile.

"Merry Christmas doll." Ben murmurs into your hair, affection lacing his words.

Again, you send a mental thank you to your grandmother for understanding that Ben and you needed a day to be together and celebrate the way you wanted to before coming to stay. Not that you didn't like the Christmas Eve party or the Christmas day party, but you wanted to give Ben this. You noticed that Ben still had a hard time being in places with a lot of people when the PTSD came roaring back, and you wanted to show him what Christmas meant to you and hopefully show what Christmas would look like between the two of you as long as you were together.

“Sweetheart you gotta open yours now.” Ben’s voice rumbles, the warmth of his breath on your ear. It makes a pleasurable shiver thrill skate down your spine when you think of all the other times the two of you have been this close.

“It’s okay I can wait.” You hum into his throat, content, but Ben won't give in.

He pushes you back gently from his chest shaking his head. “Too bad. It's your turn."

"Fine." You start to move back to the space beside him, but Ben's hands catch on your hips to stop you.

"I didn't say I wanted you to move did I?" His smile turns more smirk.

"I-"

"How many times do I have to tell you that I like having you on top of me?" Ben purrs, kissing under your jaw, his beard scratching in a way that makes your throat tight.

"Keep doing that and the only thing I'm going to unwrap is you." You sigh in a half-moan, fingers curling into the hair at the base of his neck.

"After." Ben leans back to reach into his coat pocket and pulls out a small black velvet box that fits in the palm of your hand.

You hesitate to open it.

It wasn't that you didn't want jewelry for Christmas, it was that Ben and you had done this song and dance before after he tried to make you wear a diamond and emerald necklace with jewels bigger than your index, middle, and third finger put together. The whole time you wore it the only thing you could think about is how many groceries you could have bought with the necklace, how much you were afraid that it was going to break, and how much you feared that you were going to lose it or someone was going to try and steal it.

Maybe that was ridiculous, but extravagant gifts never appealed to you. You liked gifts that meant something, gifts that were heartfelt and thoughtful, gifts like the bookshelf Ben had gotten you months ago before you were dating because he noticed you needed one. Not to mention you loved just spending time with Ben. If he hadn't gotten you anything you would have been content with just sitting with him on the couch and watching a Christmas movie.

But you smile, because you don't want to hurt his feelings and because it's his first Christmas in forty years and you wanted it to be special.

It's Christmas and I will be thankful and happy with whatever he got me, because Ben was thinking of me when he bought it.

You think to yourself as you open the box.

The first thing you notice is that the box isn't as new as you thought, the inside of the lid is printed in ancient script that's a little faded, worn against the aged white silk that lines it. Your eyes drift to the piece of jewelry nestled on the pillow. It's a silver locket, hexagon shaped, and about the size of your thumb. The face is printed with weaving ivy leaves and roses that reach to a simple plain border.

Simple, stately, and completely you.

Ben is uncharacteristically quiet, but he breaks the silence first. "Do you-" He clears his throat, "Do you like it?"

He asks it hesitantly, as if he's afraid to hear your answer. It was unusual for Ben to look so nervous.

You can only nod, any words you had stuck in the back of your throat. Your fingernail finds the seam between the two pieces of metal and you gently unlatch the locket to see the picture inside. There's a piece of glass protecting a yellowed photo of a little boy who looks no more than five standing in a small black suit. You didn't think that they made suits for kids that small. He's smiling and one of his teeth are missing, but he looks oddly familiar.

"Who is this?" You ask. The more you look at the photo the more you think that you've seen him before.

"It's me." He says it quiet, almost a whisper.

"You? But-"

"It was my mother's." He clarifies and you inhale sharply in surprise.

"Really?"

He nods once, looking uncomfortable. By now you knew that moments like this usually made your boyfriend uncomfortable no matter how many times that you'd told him that he didn't have to be uncomfortable about being vulnerable. He was getting a little better, slowly, very slowly.

"Oh Ben I don't know if I should-" You shake your head, afraid to touch something so old.

Ben didn't often speak about his mother, but when he did, it was always reverent and respectful. You could see in his eyes how much he had loved her and how much he had cared about her. His father, Ben also didn't like talking about, but Ben never spoke of his father with the kindness that he'd spoke about his mother.

And you didn't want to take something like this away from him, something that meant so much to him, because of how much he loved his mother.

"No. I-" He clears his throat and Ben's hand tightens on your waist. "I want you to have it."

"But-" You stutter.

"What else am I going to do with it Petals? Can't exactly wear it myself." Ben chuckles, but the humor doesn't quite reach his eyes.

“Yeah, but it’s your mom’s and I-“ You trail off still looking at the photo of Ben as a little boy. He had the same mischievous twinkle in his eyes that you loved, the same unruly dark hair, but there was something different about him. He looked happier. It was the same look that Ben had when it was just the two of you together, the happiness that you wanted Ben to feel the rest of his life when he understood what it was like to be loved and cherished.

And it made you understand that the last time Ben must have felt loved and cherished was when his mother was still alive. It broke your heart to know that Ben had lived all these years without her and missed that in his life.

The locket was beautiful and the fact that Ben remembered what you said about liking gifts that “meant something” made your heart flutter.

Because this meant something. Ben taking the time to go through his mother’s jewelry and pick something out just for you that was special to him that he wanted to share with you, meant more than the emerald and diamond necklace he had tried to give you months ago.

There were tears burning behind your eyes the more you look at the photo of the little boy.

Ben is watching you. “Well-“ He shrugs. “I'm an only child. Which means I don't have any siblings who have wives to fight over this stuff so, I figured that if anyone was going to get it, it should be you. If you don't take it, it'll sit in that fucking storage unit. Seems like a shame."

You don't answer.

"And-" He hesitates, "I think my mom would have wanted you to have it. Hell, she might have given it to you, if I'd brought you home to meet her."

Your cheeks flush.

Ben studies you for another minute, before you watch his smile twitch into a frown. "Fuck, I knew I shouldn't have gotten you jewelry. Annie said that you liked jewelry, but I told her you didn't and now the bitch is probably having a good laugh with that pussy of a boyfriend! Forget about it sweetheart, I'll go get you something else right now-" Ben tries to take the box from you, but you swat his hand away.

“Don't you fucking dare!” You shout, using the same words that he said to you when you tried to take his sweater away.

"But you don't like it-"

"I do! And knowing how much this means to you, makes it better."

"Really?"

You nod, a wide smile wiping away any uncertainty in his gaze. "Will you help me put it on?"

"Sure." Ben says gruffly. His voice has lowered a little, and you know that it's a mixture of pride and love mingling in the tone. It made something break open deep inside and flood your ribcage with love.

You turn your neck to the side, pulling your hair away from the skin as Ben hooks the chain together at the nape of your neck. The cool metal of the necklace against your skin and the weight are unfamiliar, but you already knew that you wouldn’t be taking it off anytime soon. "It's perfect!" You pull Ben in for a kiss, threading your fingers into his dark hair.

Ben smiles into your mouth, holding you tight against him as if he never wants to let you go and you don't want him to.

It was odd to think that you'd only been together for four months, but you couldn't imagine your life without him. It seemed ridiculous for you to think that Ben was it after such a short time, but he was. You'd never rushed into anything in your entire life, but then Ben was there shattering every expectation that you had, enough to make you throw your inhibitions to the wind and jump feet first into the unknown if it meant he was with you.

The kiss is softer than the one the two of you shared at your front door, filled with more emotion than Ben usually let the world see, but he was opening up bit by bit, learning that you wouldn't judge him for that and it made you feel sky high.

This was the relationship you'd always wanted, and you never thought that you'd have it with Ben, but now that you were here you wouldn't change a thing, because it wouldn’t have put you in his arms.

"You can change the picture." Ben murmurs into your lips.

"No way. I don't have any kid photos of you. And I'm pretty sure you'll see all of mine this week.”

“I bet you were cute.” Ben smiles, raising one of the hands from your hip to push your hair from your face. “Hard to imagine you being any other way sweetheart.”

"Debatable." You sigh, nipping at his bottom lip in a way that makes Ben pull you back to him.

And when the kiss turns hungry, with you gripping his hair so tight you'd be sure that it would hurt anyone else, and with his fingers pushing up the bottom of your t-shirt to feel the warmth of your skin against his hands and find the dips and curves of your body that make you moan into his mouth, you can't help but think that this is the best Christmas you'd ever had.

"I do think it's later sweetheart." Ben's eyes shine with mischief, mouth pulling into the familiar smirk that makes your knees weak.

"Good. Because I have one other gift for you." You moan as Ben's mouth trails down to your jaw, his beard prickling against the sensitive skin, in a way that drives you mad.

"It's not another plant is it?" He bites just under your jaw and you tighten your hands in his hair, gasping softly. "Fuck, I love those sounds you make baby." Ben murmurs.

"No." You've lost all ability to form sentences, not when he's so perfectly warm and the trail of his hands working up your abdomen consumes you.

"Give it to me later." Ben's eyes flash a startling green. "I want to unwrap my favorite gift right now."

"Keep going the way you are, and you're gonna find it."

Ben hesitates, before he raises his hand to feel the end of the brand new lingerie that you'd bought special for tonight, his eyes darkening with the realization. "Well then, Merry Christmas to me."

Ben's mouth falls against yours, but before he goes further, he pulls back just for a moment, his hand coming up to gently cup your cheek. Your eyes widen in surprise.

"Ben?" You question.

"Merry Christmas Petals." He whispers, dragging his thumb over your cheek, and nudges his nose against yours in a gesture that warms your heart. He didn’t do things like that often, but whenever he did it always stood out to you, because it added on another layer to the man you loved with all your heart.

"Merry Christmas Ben."

A/N: I thought that they deserved a little Christmas fluff. I'm hoping that I have time to drop a follow up to this before Christmas, because I kinda want to write what happens when they go back to Illinois, but we'll see what happens! ❤️

As always thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, Likes, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think 🥰

Taglist for Take A Chance On Me:

@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @corruptedcruiser @winchesterwild78 @the-super-who-locked-wizard

@criminalyetminimal @52ndstreeet @bitchykittenconnoisseur @anna6307

@faephoria @possiblyafangirl @jqtaro @quietlybitchy @tinydancer40

@roger-that-cap @megara0224 @miskwaadesiwag @rainyeggvoidpurse

@soldiergrimes @tiffsbagels @podiumackles

@ifyouwerethemoon @ririshkin @peachhiz @fitxgrld @sukunassfinger

@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @ej13928 @deans-spinster-witch @kr804573 @modiddys-blog

@acciosherlockholmes @minas-fantasies @fireskyy

@n-o-p-e-never @nesnejwritings @am0rem @tpwkcalli @momggn

@fitxgrld @whimsicalcherry @ladysparkles78

@spxideyver @zepskies @impala67stellawinchester

@reidtomewinchester @samanthadegaro @glossy01 @nikimisery

@tunnelvisionlove @incandxscents @winchester-stark @samahanta

@melonmochi

@kamisobsessed @whichwitchwanda @karolina-12110905 @jcollins03-blog

@pixviee @filmologetica @yvonneeeee @c1nnamong1rl29 @kmc1989

@livya99 @cherrygirl444 @tulipsvanilla @angrydragon90 @chi-raz

#lovely mutuals #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy fic #the boys fanfiction #the boys tv #christmas fluff #annie january #hughie campbell #zepskies reads

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ihearyou-jikook · 2 years ago

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Anti-jikookers, don't worry Jikook is doing well.

I’ve seen a lot of my fav jikook bloggers being bombarded by antis, insecure jikookers, haters, whatever you want to call them…asking about or trying to claim that JM and JK must not be on good terms or broken up because of things JK has said about JM’s songs or his schedule.

Here’s some thoughts on that, feel free to read on or don’t. Cause who am I to talk about this?

No really…who am I? 🤷‍♀️

Credit: Video Clip Here

I’m Park Jimin! That’s who! 🤣 Sorry couldn’t help myself.

Moving on...👀

Since I am new to the community, for the record: I do believe Jikook is in a long-term committed relationship.

One of the many reasons why I love watching Jikook interactions is that they remind me so much of me and my husband. I have been with him for 16 years. 3 of which, we have been married. Jikook is so unbelievably domestic, especially in the last few years IMO.

Do you think they live together? You may be wondering.

My hot take: I think they live together as often as they can, given their occupations and being a closeted couple. They probably have a few properties that they use.

Now, on to the trolls that want to use JK’s words as proof that Jikook are broken up, not close, blah blah blah.

There is no doubt that JM and JK mean a lot to each other. There is plenty of evidence of them paying a lot of attention to each other and knowing a lot about each other such as their likes, dislikes, and being able to read each other like a damn book.

Listen, I can do the same thing with my husband and he can with me. Especially since he and I also started dating very young at 18 yrs old. We have grown up and changed over the many years we have been together. These are the big overarching important things.

When it comes to daily details over a few busy days, weeks, or months. There's no way I would expect my husband to remember every single detail I chatted to him about my job, a project I am working on, or what I did 2 days ago.

Look, selective hearing is a thing and it is prevalent in long-term relationships. Ask anyone who’s been in a relationship for over 5 years. I can tell my husband before bed “I’m going in late to work tomorrow” and he will ask me in the morning “Aren’t you going to be late for work?” 🤨

Yup, look forward to long-term committed and/or married-life. 😂

I’d also like to remind anyone who forgot about this:

Credit: Video Clip Here

***For those of you with no humor or who can't tell by the tone and smirk of JK, he is definitely teasing JM.

We now know that JK obviously knew about the most romantic song of all time, which was a love letter to him on Jimin's album. (I said it. Mad? Stay mad.)

As for the other songs on the album, Jimin probably didn’t explain too many details about each and every song. Jimin seems to get very shy when he is creating music. I can relate because I hate sharing my unfinished art and creative endeavors with anyone let alone my husband who is my best friend. The creative process can sometimes be very delicate depending on your personality and we know Jimin is very hard on himself and has a lot of self-doubts. Again, I can relate.

Lastly, when you are suddenly very busy and have little or no time to spend with your partner one of the LAST things you wanna do when you are with them is talk about work. Ugh.

Jimin and Jungkook are musicians and that is their job. They are part of the few who have been able to build their career from their passion which they love, but it is still considered work.

I’m sure when they have quality time together, they want it to be about enjoying each other's company. Not about work 24/7. Especially since evidence has shown they are the type of couple that enjoys spending a lot of time together.

Uhhh....this has gotten pretty long and I’m probably writing to a wall so….끝!

#jikook #kookmin #mingukkie

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fandomfluffandfuck · 2 years ago

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Hello! So I was the one to bring up the trope with winter solider Bucky and nomad Steve Rogers, which going to be honest I really did not think you would respond so when I saw that you had responded I nearly spit out all my coffee on my computer😂 . I definitely love love!!! The fact that he has almost no clue on what’s happening just *french kiss*

I like to imagine Bucky as a sort of possessive guy, following his story arch and it’s not hard to see why when his life was taken away. So I like to imagine him always near Steve and gets very territorial with him just putting his hands on him and manhandling him where or when he wants him. I read your tumbler prompt on exhibitionist doms and man do I really wanna see Steve this alpha, the definition of dominance just getting railed by Bucky as Mabye one of there teammates walks in….I’ve thought about this way to much oh my gosh.

I will faithfully await this fic as a humble mortal, also I hope that your doing well in collage :)

related to this

Hello again! And I love that! Though, I'm glad you only almost spit coffee all over your computer--wouldn't want you to ruin any of your tech haha. Yeah, yeah, I try to answer all my asks even if it takes a while lol.

And, right?! Himbos and/or idiots in lust love are my favorite. But yeah... hell fucking yeah. That so fits for Bucky to get possessive. Steve is worth being possessive over too 😘

Plus, for others here's that dom exhibitionism post.

Mmm-hmm, yup, Steve would crumble and it'd be so shocking for anyone other than Bucky to find out... 👀

Thanks for the well wishes too <3 I would love to write more on this delicious idea if not for the time I don't have right now :/ maybe eventually it'll be a full fledged fic

#asks #steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky

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toberlonetrombone · 3 years ago

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4, 7, 14, 22, 30 for the music asks

4. a song that reminds you of your favorite season

First though was "get cool" -stray kids because of the lyric "Kicking leaves in the autumn breeze..."

Also "blame it on the rain" -he is we. Idk that song just makes me feel like I'm in a nice autumn day 🤷🏻‍♀️

7. a song your friend introduced you to that you ended up loving

Oh gosh honestly most of my music taste has been handed to me by my friends 😂 it's how I got into all my emo music. BUUUT a recent one that I can think of is "Let me" specifically Mark's English version 😅 it's a very addicting simp song

14. a song with the name of a place in the title

Literally the only thing coming to mind was "Hotel California" which slaps don't get me wrong. But I ended up looking up a list of songs like that so I could think of other bc my brain was being stupid 😂😂but a good one is "Africa" -toto for the gays obviously

WATERLOO BY ABBA DUUUUHH (listen my brain can't think ever 😂)

22. a song you related to in the past and present, but for different reasons

Okay this one is interesting and honestly I'm not sure. The first one I thought of was "blame it on the rain" -he is we (again) but like technically relate to it for similar reasons.

Okay this one is actually hard to answer. Like most of the songs I realted to when I was younger I still do and for the same reasons. I'm literally scrolling through my music being like "okay related to that one, and yup same reasons as before so that doesn't count."

So two that I will accept as "different." First song is "The Grey" -icon for hire. Found that song/band in my really bad suicidal time of my life and that whole song is about that basically. It's about being on the edge between giving up and fighting hence 'the grey.' So back then I related a lot to the giving up portions (not gonna lie still do sometimes I'm still not in a good place mentally. Doing better but ya know.) But I would say now I relate a little more to the not giving up parts of the song, where it's about wanting to fight and survive.

The other song would be "For Good" from wicked. I relate to it with my best friend I wouldn't be where I am today without her. But it was also my senior song for choir so I relate it to my whole choir more now, but also my new friends too. I've been able to become independent because of you guys and so that song makes me think of y'all now too 💖💖

30. your all-time favorite song

Bruh that's a big ask wtf. Idk that has to change a lot tbh. But I guess a consistent song I'll always love and go back to would be a few so I'll just list with no explanation since this is long enough. But if y'all want to know why either ask or listen and see if you can figure it out.

"sarabeth (skin)"- rascal Flatts

"stealing Cinderella"- Chuck Wicks

"part of your world"- The little mermaid

"now you know"- icon for hire

"hallelujah" -specifically Pentatonix version

#okay tags in order of asks #i was those lyrics i lsited for get cool tattooed tbh #i fucking love those lyrics #a decent amount of my simp songs were shown to me by someone and i love them all #god the place one fucked me up i legit could not think of anything but hotel California for like 10 minutes #also i knew 22 would get depressing bc most of the songs i relate to are about mental health issues #and for 30 i could list so many more tbh #i love music so muhx #also if you aksed me again in like 2/3 months id probably have different answers for all of these #bc right now i have certain songs stuck in my head bc ive been listening to new shit/icon for hire exclusively basically #also was expecting more skz but its so hard to pick stuff from them as like favorites #but know i fuck with all of their songs i love them so muhc #anyway sorry for taking like 2 hours to answer this #phone died while i was answering and it didnt save what i have #and then i watched an hour long youtube video sooo yeahh

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zepskies · 1 year ago

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Hey lovely!! So great to get your thoughts here.

Yes, I really wanted them to have a sweet morning before getting to the "drama" of it all. 😅

Oof I've never snooped, but I could see why you or someone (or the reader) would! It is an invasion of privacy, but some people just can't be trusted. (Clearly, as you discovered.) But in this situation, I think both Dean's POV in the argument and the reader's is understandable.

So glad the meeting with Sam went so well. And I'm glad that he's happy with Eileen. They were so cute, so thanks for keeping that up. 😊

Yes!! I love Saileen, and as long as I live and write SPN I will continue to ship them. 😂

Winchesters are massive. Yup. In more than one way, I imagine. 🤣🤣🤣

Hahaaaaa I imagine the same thing. 😏😂

To which his younger brother rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you’re Batman.” What lovely easteregg. Had to laugh instantly. 😂😂

Haha thank you, friend! I loved being able to drop that one in there.

You captured the bond between the brothers so well. And I love that in this AU they seem just a little bit closer and are a little more open in talking to each other. 🥰

Thank you so much! I love writing Sam and Dean in this AU. I think their bond is a bit more open because they haven't gone through as much trauma as they did in canon SPN, so they're able to express themselves a bit better (especially Sam, who's been in a stable relationship for a few years now).

Y/N thinking that Andrea is pulling away, is so true. 😐 I had that happen with 2 of my good friends before. I know when everything is fresh and new in the beginning it's somewhat normal but it still sucks. 😕 And I'm sorry for Y/N. Hopefully they sort it out later? But glad that Andrea and Benny are doing great. I always had a soft spot for Benny. ☺

Yeah, I had a feeling some ladies would relate to this because this was based on my own experience as well. 🙃 I have a friend who is currently an ex-friend (she's not talking to me), and yet she's the "Andrea" in the situation. 🤷🏽‍♀️

And then a Cliffhanger again. Though I doubt they are having success with what they're planning to do. 😏🤭

Hahaa you shall see. 😏

his story is getting better and better. 💞💞

Thanks so much, friend!! I've been working really hard on this one, so it makes me so happy to hear you say that. 💕💕

Smoke Eater - Part 8

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: Just wanted to say thank you so much for all the amazing feedback on the last chapter! I work hard on all of these, but I agonized over Part 7 in particular lol. Really wanted to get that balance right. 😉

Word Count: 6,400 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Angst, fluff, suggestiveness, implied sexual harassment, and a (sort of) cliffhanger.

Part 8: “Likewise, Baby”

You woke feeling delightfully warm. Your eyes cracked open. Though the room was dim, the window behind you had horizontal blinds that were letting in a bit of light.

You cradled the pillow beneath your head, with your hand tucked under your cheek. And you weren’t alone.

Dean was sitting up against the headboard beside you.

He was already dressed in a faded gray Fire Department shirt and sweatpants, with his long legs crossed over the navy comforter. He sipped at a mug of robust-smelling coffee while holding an iPad in the other hand, occasionally scrolling with a finger.

A slow smile cleared some of the sleepiness from your mind. You should’ve known he’d be an early riser, considering his job, but you were pleasantly surprised that he was just sitting with you, waiting for you to wake up in your own time.

Breathing in deep, you stretched out your legs under the sheets. The sound earned Dean glancing away from the screen, and then his smile aimed at you.

“Hey, beautiful,” he greeted. You hummed sleepily in response.

“Sleep good?” he asked.

You nodded and braved swimming through the sheets to snuggle closer to his side. After setting aside his mug and iPad, Dean welcomed you over with a hand soothing down your back. You curled against him, resting your head against his chest.

He dropped a kiss onto your wild hair. You still wore his shirt from last night and nothing else, but you felt the warmth of his hand through the fabric, rubbing up and down your back. You slipped an arm comfortably around his middle and let out a soft sigh.

“I see you’re not too chatty in the morning,” he teased.

You made a sound of agreement. “You wore me out, Lieutenant.”

And you hadn’t felt this relaxed, this warm and comfortable and safe, in a very long time.

You also felt Dean’s chuckle reverberate through your chest. His hand came up to pet your hair, and he pressed another kiss on the top of your head.

“Likewise, baby,” he replied. Cheekiness colored his tone. “That record’s gonna be hard to beat.”

You smirked and huffed against his chest. After trying some of the cake last night, he’d given you another sample of his talented fingers, right there at the table. Then you’d tried to start cleaning up the kitchen, only for Dean to distract you once again.

That time, he’d settled behind you at the kitchen sink and goaded you with sinful lips along your neck and wandering hands, until you decided that your earlier promise of “next time” was right now.

You’d turned in his arms and finally found out what he tasted like, after you sunk to your knees and dragged down his sweatpants and took his waiting cock into your mouth…

Needless to say, it was a while before you both made it to a shower, and finally to bed for actual sleep.

Remembering it all made you blush, biting your lip. He let out a quiet laugh as you hid your face in his chest. His fingers slipped into your tangled hair and gently massaged the back of your head.

“Want some coffee?” he asked. You nodded.

“Need some,” you replied. “Let me freshen up first though.”

So you slowly got up, reluctance pulling at every muscle in your body. While you were in the bathroom brushing your teeth and fixing your ridiculous hair, Dean cleaned up the rest of the dishes from last night and poured you a steaming cup of coffee from the carafe. He didn’t remember how you liked it, but his intuition said you liked a bit of sugar and creamer.

He found himself smiling like an idiot, until something Meg said rolled through his head again.

Goddamn. I am twitterpated.

With that thought, he immediately shook his head to rid himself of it.

You padded back into the bedroom to find your dress…and your panties, for that matter. While you were getting dressed, a phone buzzed on one of the nightstands beside the bed. It was Dean’s phone.

You went over to it curiously as you fixed the straps on your dress. The screen showed a missed text message from last night, around 10:00 p.m., and another one this morning. You read the latest one with a sinking feeling in your chest.

From Marissa: Surprised I didn’t hear back from you last night. The offer still stands. 😘

You knew it was wrong, but your finger scrolled to see last night’s text preview.

From Marissa: Hey, been thinking of you… ❤️ I’m free tonight if you want to come over. You always look so good in my bed. 😉

You were beginning to feel sick to your stomach. You forced deep, even breaths through your nose as you sat down on his side of the bed, and you contemplated doing something you knew you’d probably regret.

You’d seen Dean unlock his phone enough times to remember his passcode. Your thumb hovered over the keypad…

Again, you knew it was wrong. You’d never, ever done this to someone in your life, and if he caught you at this, he’d probably be pissed.

But you couldn’t help yourself. You unlocked his phone, and you found the girl in his text messages. While you saw that he hadn’t even looked at the message, and hadn’t even spoken to her in a couple of months, the previous text messages were a sick siren song that you couldn’t help but fall into.

However, you could only read a few of the old ones before you became disgusted, and you quickly minimized his text messages. You reminded yourself that you didn’t have a right to be reading this, or to be jealous, for that matter.

Those messages were before he even met you. It just didn’t change the fact that reading them, and hearing his voice in your mind while talking explicitly dirty with another girl still stung.

Another thought whispered in your mind. You’re already here. Might as well…

Biting your lip, your thumb shook as you went into his contacts. You saw familiar names: Benny, Cas, Dad, Eileen, Gordon, Jo…but those were followed by unfamiliar ones. Haley, Jackie, Kat, Lisa, Lauren, Marissa, Nadia, Olivia, Priya, Rachel, Serina…

What the fuck! He’s got the whole damn Kansas Directory of Sluts in here! you thought in both alarm and disgust.

So consumed were you that you didn’t hear Dean coming down the hall, nor did you see him appear in the doorway to his own room with a fresh mug of coffee.

“Hey, so what do you want for breakfast…” His question died on his tongue the moment he saw you with his phone (and an angry, perturbed look on your face). His brows furrowed as he entered.

You were caught red-handed, and you knew it. Guilt and hurt and anger radiated under your skin in equal measure, though you set his phone down for him on the bed and met his eyes.

“You got a booty call from Marissa,” you said. “She misses you in her bed.”

“So you snooped through my phone?” Dean levied at you. The warmth in his tone was gone, though his still handed you the mug of coffee and grabbed the phone. His contacts were still open on the screen.

“I shouldn’t have,” you testily agreed. “Believe me, I regret it now.”

You stood, set down the mug on the nightstand, and began searching the room for your sandals. You didn’t think you could stick around for breakfast.

Dean’s jaw locked, and he let out a sharp breath as he watched you.

“So you’re leaving?” he asked incredulously.

“Why, don’t you need to check on your side piece?” you shot back.

Dean huffed in irritation. You bent over to put on a sandal and nearly toppled over as you lost your balance. He got up, but you managed to catch yourself and held up a hand against him helping you.

You straightened and looked up with him with steel in your eyes, where last night had been all softness and fire. It reminded him of when he saw you square up against your boss. No nonsense, no inches given. He remembered then that you were a real pistol when you needed to be.

“Okay, Nancy Drew. I’m sure you saw that I haven’t hit up that girl in months!” he said. He wanted to be patient with you, but his temper was already snapping at the invasion of his privacy.

Yours was snapping right back, as your hands went to your hips.

“Dean, you’ve got an entire catalogue of ‘Pussy On-Demand’ in your phone!”

Frowning, Dean held his hands out wide in a what do you want from me gesture.

“Look, I was honest with you about my past,” he tried, but you cut in quick.

“Is it your past?” you asked. Your heart pulsed with pain at the thought, but you had to ask. “Or were you still talking to these girls, even seeing these girls while you were ‘wooing’ me? I mean…I guess I don’t have a right to complain. We never explicitly said we were exclusive—”

“All right, stop. For the love of Christ,” Dean said in sheer frustration. He approached you with caution. You were still frowning and testy, but you allowed him to grasp your upper arms.

“First of all, I didn’t even see that text. Because I was preoccupied with you. Second, no I wasn’t seein’ anyone but you after our first date. And third…” His lips pressed together.

This last one was tough for him to admit, even embarrassing. You were waiting for him though, probably with the last shred of benefit of the doubt you had left for him.

He sighed, brushing your arms with his thumbs. “Before last night, I hadn’t had sex in a couple of months.”

Your brows went high at that one, only because the weight in his voice told you that two months was a big deal for him. (For you, it was child’s play.) Remembering that laundry list of names, though, you had to agree.

You eventually relented, your shoulders relaxing a little.

“I’m sorry I looked through your phone,” you said again, more sincerely this time. “I’ve never done that to anyone, ever, and it’s not who I am. It’s just…you’re making me a bit crazy.”

A smirk pulled at Dean’s lips. “Yeah, I know the feeling.”

You reluctantly smiled and pushed at his chest with a half-hearted hand. Sighing, he pulled you in close. You allowed yourself to rest against him, and even slip your arms around his middle and tangle your fingers into the back of his shirt. Dean pressed his lips to your hair.

“I might be playing a lot of this by ear, but I told you. I’m not playing around,” he said. “I want to try being with you. Just you.”

After a moment, you nodded. You looked up at him, resting your chin on his chest.

A smile tugged at your lips.

“So what you’re saying is, you’re my boyfriend.”

Dean’s smile grew as well. “I mean…yeah. If you’re on board.”

You nodded and leaned up for a kiss. “I could be persuaded.”

He met you there with both passion and sincerity as his lips glided over yours. Your fingers dug into the muscles in his back, spurring him to hold you tighter against him. The weight of his hands felt deliciously good against your lower back.

“Stay for breakfast,” he said between heated kisses and panting breaths. “I’ll cook this time.”

You remembered that you had to check on your grandfather. You’d texted him before going to bed that you were staying over at Dean’s place. George had already been asleep, but he answered you this morning that everything was fine. Still, your instincts warred between wanting to make sure, and staying here a bit longer.

Your curiosity was piqued, however.

You paused against Dean’s lips. “You cook?”

He looked down at you with offense at your surprised tone.

“I’m a damn good cook,” he said, his brow waggling. “What do you want? Pancakes, eggs and bacon, or something more chill, like oatmeal or something?”

Your stomach began to percolate at the mere mention of food.

“Yes,” you replied with a grin.

Dean’s amusement crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Someone’s hungry. Worked up an appetite, huh?”

“Starving,” you admitted. Your hands moved down his back, feeling how some of the muscles there contracted. Looking up at him through your lashes, you added, “But I’ll take whatever you give me.”

Dean laughed and kissed you again.

“Oh, I’ll give you plenty, naughty girl,” he promised against your lips.

Thank God it’s Saturday, you thought. You inhaled the coffee Dean made for you before taking another sip. It was delicious, and you had to make a mental note to buy the same brand the next time you went to the grocery store.

You peered out the small kitchen window while the smell of food continued to stir your appetite. Really is a cute neighborhood. The building overlooked a nice little park. Already there were people jogging, walking their dogs, parents with their children heading to the playground.

You liked where you lived as well, but the two-story house was a bit much just for you and George. It also needed some work done, of which you hadn’t gotten around to taking care of with how busy you’d been lately. Not to mention your car, which was occasionally starting to shake when you accelerated past 50 miles per hour.

I really should ask Dean to look at it. Bet he’d relish the challenge of reviving an old car.

Then a small ding alerted you to the toast, now ready to be buttered. You were helping with the smaller things while Dean worked on the eggs and bacon.

You also heard the front door unlock. Soon enough a tall man with dark, long hair down to his shoulders entered the kitchen with a workbag on his shoulder and a small overnight bag. He wore a smart-looking, but simple suit, chestnut brown.

“Hey,” he greeted Dean, but his hazel eyes widened a fraction when he saw you. “Oh, hi there.”

Dean turned his head and smiled.

“Hey, Sammy,” he said. “Come meet my uh…my girlfriend.”

Your face heated up at the way he glanced at you with that smile.

Hear that? Official girlfriend status.

You also tried to hide your excitement as you introduced yourself to Sam Winchester. He shook your hand with an amiable look.

Dear God, you thought, noting his height, and his broad shoulders that rivaled Dean’s. Winchesters are massive.

“Finally. I’ve heard a lot about you,” he said.

“Same here,” you agreed, matching his smile. “Really good to meet you, Sam.”

“And how is it you always make it right on time for breakfast?” Dean teased. He was pouring the scrambled eggs out of the pan and into a large bowl.

“Just good timing,” Sam replied, smirking as his brother rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, how’s Eileen?” Dean asked.

“Good. She had her students help her decorate the classroom for the fall this week,” Sam said.

He fished out his phone and showed you and Dean the pictures. The two of you had your heads bowed close to the phone. Dean wore a smile at the sight, while you cooed at the adorableness of Eileen with her students.

They seemed to be elementary school age (between seven and ten years old, if you had to guess). They’d done the Thanksgiving turkey hand for arts and crafts, even though the holiday wasn’t for a couple of months. One of the boys had taped it to his forehead.

“They’re so cute!” you gushed. “I remember doing that in elementary school.”

Dean shot you a grin. “You like kids, huh?”

Sam’s brow quirked. Mr. Serial Bachelor was joking like that already?

Meanwhile, you sent Dean a narrowed look, despite your blushing smile. Never mind that you two had just established the seriousness of your relationship about five minutes ago.

Honestly, you were surprised that having kids was even on his radar…but for the first time, maybe it was starting to be on yours too.

And that alone was a shocking revelation, considering how career-driven you’d been up until now. It was even somewhat scary, just how quickly this man had buried his way into your heart.

“Yeah, and what if I do?” You laughed and carded your fingers through his hair, but you made sure to tug on it a bit. “Clearly I need to be careful with you.”

“That’s probably best, as a general rule,” Sam interjected. He smirked at Dean’s flat look.

“All right, all right,” Dean waved at him. “Help me get the plates.”

The three of you talked and joked and laughed all throughout breakfast. You and Sam had a fair amount in common, speaking of your respective experiences in college, with him following into law school and you with culinary school. He told you more about his work at the District Attorney’s office, and about how he and Eileen had met.

Then you and Dean told the story of how you two met, from each of your perspectives. You recounted how it had been Nick’s fault that you’d been in that elevator to begin with, grabbing his latte, of all things. You remembered how goddamn hot it had been in that elevator, how no one could hear you, how you’d been doing your best not to freak the hell out.

And then you heard his voice. “Fire Department!”

The save was pretty standard, from Dean’s perspective. But he’d noticed you, even in your coffee-stained blouse and skirt. He remembered the way you lost one of your shoes.

“And I mean, ridiculous fucking high heel,” Dean said to Sam. He held his hands apart several inches, making you laugh at his gross exaggeration. “I got no clue how she walks in ‘em.”

Dean also relished retelling the moment you later stood up to Nick with gusto.

“I thought she was gonna chuck it at the guy’s head, Psycho style,” Dean said. He mimicked holding the shoe like a knife stabbing from above.

You laughed and covered your face with your hands. “I wasn’t that bad!”

Dean chuckled, but he rubbed your shoulder.

“Nah, it was awesome. I remember thinkin’, this girl’s a badass.”

You lowered your hands and glanced over at him, letting your smile peek through.

“Oh yeah?” you asked.

“Class and style, baby,” he said, giving you a wink. You shook your head, despite your amusement, and how his words touched you.

“Says the guy who literally rappelled from the roof like Batman,” you said with a smirk.

“Ooh, Batman. Here that? I’m taking it.” Dean’s brows rose, and he shot Sam a grin.

To which his younger brother rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you’re Batman.”

You giggled into your hands. His brother’s sarcasm was nothing new, but Dean enjoyed seeing you laugh after all the tension this morning. He took one of your hands away from your face so you couldn’t hide anymore.

You looked over at him. When your eyes met his, somehow you were captured again.

Sam watched carefully from his side of the table. He watched his brother, and was hardly able to believe what he saw. He continued to sip his coffee, all the while hiding a certain smile behind his mug.

You left the apartment a short while later, despite offering to help clean up. Dean knew you wanted to get back to your grandfather and didn’t want to hold you up, but he still walked you to the door and made sure you had everything you needed before you left (including a leisurely goodbye in the doorway that had his old neighbor Gladys tsking as she walked by).

He eventually returned to the kitchen to help Sam finish cleaning up, thumping him on the back while Sam was trying to wash the pans in the sink. Sam uttered a grunt, but his lips edged at a smile at Dean’s obvious good mood.

“I take it last night went well?” Sam asked knowingly.

“Yeah, good thinkin’ on staying at Eileen’s,” Dean smirked back. His mind rewound the evening: having you cook for him, the shenanigans that interrupted your baking lesson, and also the baking, and the cleaning up.

His smile only dropped a bit when he remembered the arguing part.

“Well, there was a rough patch,” he admitted. At Sam’s questioning look, Dean explained how you’d looked through his phone…and what you’d seen on it.

“She apologized, but it was a tough go of it for a second,” he said.

Sam had finished the dishes by now. He stood leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed. He sighed through his nose.

“You want my advice?” he asked.

Dean quirked a wry smile. “Something tells me I’m gonna get it anyway.”

Sam nodded. “You just need to take the ‘L’ on this one. Don’t hold it against her.”

Dean’s brows knitted together as he frowned.

“Oh yeah?” he said in full sarcasm. “Is that what I need to do?”

He loved when his brother when full Dr. Phil on him.

“Listen,” Sam said. “Yeah, what she did was wrong, but her concerns were understandable.”

Dean took that in, carding his fingers through his hair.

“You can’t assume that she can read your mind, Dean. On your intentions, on how you feel—any of it.” Sam leveled him with a more serious look. “She’s taking this as it comes, just like you are. And she’s taking a chance on getting hurt, just like you are.”

Damn it, Dean thought. He especially hated when his brother made sense.

He was quiet for a moment, until something occurred to him.

“You think Dad would like her?” he asked.

At that, Sam’s smile broke free. Dean’s gaze flattened in annoyance.

“What?” he asked.

“If you’re willing to subject her to Dad, I know you’re serious.”

Dean rolled his eyes. He stole the last leftover piece of bacon from Sam’s plate and headed for his room.

I think he’d like her.

“So how’s it been going?” Andréa asked you.

The two of you were finally getting a chance to have lunch together in the staff breakroom, for the first time in about a month. You blamed it on your busy schedules, but you knew it also had to do with the fact that you both had new men in your lives.

You had been reaching out to your friend a couple of times a week to check in, sometimes even offering to grab dinner or catch a movie after work, but Andréa always seemed to have an excuse. You didn’t think she was pulling away from you intentionally… It did hurt though.

You just supposed you should be grateful that she showed up out of the blue in your office, asking if you had time for lunch.

“Work is…well, the usual,” you replied.

Nick was still an asshole who made your life harder and more stressful with every interaction. He changed his mind on deadlines, or better yet, forgot them entirely. He often got drunk while schmoozing with CEOs and representatives of potential accounts.

He also sucked at paperwork, which meant you often had to redo it, or get his assistant to do it. And he still pitted you and Josh and other teammates against one another (Paul had quit last week due to the pressure).

But all that, you could handle. What bothered you more were the “harmless” comments threaded with innuendo. The lingering looks he gave you, seizing you up from breast to toe.

You’d taken to wearing pants exclusively, instead of skirts, and flat shoes instead of heels, just to try and put him off. You maintained your professionalism and always kept several chairs between you and Nick in meetings. Though you dreaded moments where you had to be alone with him. Those were the times you were on your guard the most.

Thankfully, he hadn’t done anything outrageous since the last time he was drunk before a meeting. As in, you hadn’t had to threaten going to HR again…yet.

And these things you kept to yourself. You didn’t want Andréa to worry. Or worse, for her to try and get involved, and earn Nick’s eye on her next.

“What about with Dean?” Andréa asked, breaking you from your thoughts.

You brightened with a smile. That you would happily share.

“Good. Like really good,” you said. “I mean, we had our moments this weekend, but…I really think this could work.”

Andréa shot you a sly look, though her smile said she was happy for you.

“Oh wow. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so smiley,” she teased. “What is it with these firefighters at Firehouse 25? God sprinkled them with something special, I swear.”

You eyed her with amusement. “Oh yeah? How are you and Benny doing then?”

And that seemed to be the exact question she was waiting for. She turned to you fully and grabbed your hand.

“Oh, girl. I have so much to catch you up on,” she said.

You smiled at her indulgently. You truly wanted to hear everything she had to say. You wanted to hear about her disastrous first meeting with Benny’s family, especially with his father. You wanted to hear about how she was able to turn it all around with a bit of charm and a few funny stories.

You wanted to hear about their impromptu sailing trip last weekend, and the plans they were already making to go to Greece next summer if all went well. Andréa and Benny were clearly a whirlwind romance in the making, the stuff of good old-fashioned rom-com legend, and you wanted to hear the story unfold.

You just couldn’t help a small thought in the back of your mind…that she wasn’t quite as invested in your life as you were in hers.

A couple of weeks later, you parked your old Camry on the side of the road. You didn’t want to block any part of the driveway at Firehouse 25.

Oh good, they’re not on a call, you thought. The truck was there, along with the Squad truck and the ambulance. A full house.

You smiled and first smoothed down your sweater dress. It was mid-November with a chill on the air, and it also gave you an excuse to break out one of your favorite dresses, made of warm brown wool, but still cute with your knee-high boots.

You pulled out the large plastic dessert carrier resting on the passenger seat. It held not one, but two large cakes. You wanted this treat to last a little bit longer than a few hours this time.

You walked up the driveway, smiling as you greeted the Squad men playing poker at a square table just outside the building. A couple of them eyed you in curiosity, and maybe even with recognition. Though you had to swallow a bit of nerves as you pushed past the familiar glass doors of the firehouse.

The first person you saw (that you actually recognized) was Meg. She sat in the common room with her feet crossed and perched on the dining table. She was reading a book, but her head perked up when you came in. She stood and left her book on the table as she waved you inside.

“Hey there,” she said.

Remembering what happened the last time you met the paramedic at the Roadhouse, your smile was a bit thin.

“You must be real special,” she’d remarked, gesturing at Dean. “He usually doesn’t bring his girls around here, where he actually likes to hang out. Guess that’d mean he’d have to see ‘em again with the lights on.”

Despite the less than stellar memory, you tried to be polite.

“Hey, Meg. How are you?” you asked.

“Sober,” she answered frankly. Her head tilted as she let out a short, self-deprecating sigh. “Uh, sorry about last time. I have a bit of a mouth when I’ve had a few.”

Your smile became a bit more genuine. Before you could say, That's okay—

“Oh no, that’s her resting state,” a familiar voice wryly interjected.

You brightened when you saw Dean striding in from down the hall. He met you with a grin, as well as a kiss that lingered on your lips. Meg’s brow rose.

He eventually pulled away, but his hand stayed on the small of your back. He looked happy to see you, and it secretly warmed you down to your toes.

“To what do I owe this surprise?” he asked, his green eyes gleaming. He noted the dessert carrier hanging from your hand with interest.

“I come bearing gifts.” You raised your offering. Dean took it from you with both hands and boyish glee.

“Mmm, I do love me some cake,” he said, licking his lips.

You had to laugh. Firefighters do love food.

Or maybe it was just Dean.

“Remember, you’re meant to share,” you teased.

“No promises,” he muttered. But he still brought it over to the kitchen. Even Meg followed the two of you, peeking over his shoulder in curiosity.

“What kind is it?” she asked.

You gave her a smile. “Orange, cranberry, and poppyseed, with an orange glaze.”

Her eyes widened, but you could tell she wasn’t sure if she was intrigued or not.

“Trust me. It’s like lemon poppyseed, just more orangey,” you promised. “And even a bit sweeter.”

Dean grinned at his friend. “She went to culinary school.”

He said it proudly, which warmed you. Though you bit your lip in slight embarrassment.

“You don’t have to say that,” you said with a nervous giggle.

“Why not?” he protested. “It’s true.”

Meg surveyed you both with a knowing smirk while Dean set up your cakes with a cutting knife and some paper plates.

“It’s still early, but the droves will come soon enough,” Meg said wryly, and she nodded at Dean. “Have you shown her around yet?”

His brows rose. “Around the house? No, as a matter of fact…”

He turned to you with a smile and offered his hand. “Got time for a quick tour?”

You smiled. It was Saturday, and you had a rare morning where you had nowhere else to be.

“I do now,” you agreed. And you took his hand.

Dean led you past the humble kitchen to the barracks, where there were several rows of cots. They were empty and made up with white sheets and dark green comforters.

“We’re all busy by now, but we stay quiet around here,” he explained. “Especially during night shifts, of course.”

He showed you where the bathrooms and showers were, along with passing by a large, closed office. Through the frosted doors, you could see a man talking firmly into a desk phone.

“Is that the Chief?” you asked.

Dean nodded. “Yep, that’s his office. Good ole’ Bobby.”

A scoff made both of your heads turn. Benny gave his friend a wry brow raise.

“Only this one gets away with callin’ him that,” he said. Though he gave you a kind look and touched your shoulder. “How are ya?”

“I’m good, thanks,” you smiled at him. It was just a bit weird for you, knowing he was dating your best friend.

You felt like you knew him from everything she’d told you, but you hadn’t actually been around him that much in person. Everything you knew about him had been pieced from stories you’d heard from either Andréa or Dean.

“I hear ships are sailing with you and Dre,” you quipped.

Benny chuckled with an imaginary tip of his hat. “Well, you’ve heard right.”

At Dean’s slightly curious look, Benny filled him in about his and Andréa’s sailing trip last weekend.

“Who the hell goes sailing in Kansas?” Dean remarked.

You had to laugh a little. “Andréa’s family owns a yacht club. They go boating on the river, mostly. But she goes to Greece every year…and I hear you’re planning to join her.”

Again, you looked over at Benny with good-natured teasing. He took it with a smile and a nod, even taking Dean’s raised eyebrows. His growing smile told you that his friend would be taking some shit about this later. And Benny knew it too.

“All right, I see you guys were in the middle of somethin’. Let me not get in the way,” Benny graciously bowed out with another chuckle.

“Yeah, yeah. Oh, Captain, my Captain over here’s gotta find a parrot,” Dean ribbed.

Benny just rolled his eyes and gave a lazy wave as he departed.

You gave your boyfriend a bemused look. “What is he, a pirate?”

Dean shrugged. His grin was contagious.

“I just can’t picture that dusty lumberjack on a yacht,” he said. “God, what’s the world coming to?”

You shook your head and bit your lip against a giggle.

“All right, what’s next on the tour?” you asked.

Dean hummed, but after a moment, he brightened with an idea…and a sly look. He took your hand and led you over to a small side room behind the barracks. He opened the door and led you into what was essentially a cubicle, complete with a desk, chair, desktop, and a document filing unit, except it also had a cot in the far corner.

“Step into my office,” he said, gesturing with a hand. You gave him an impressed brow raise as you ventured inside.

“My man’s got his own office? Complete with a bedroom, I see.”

“Yeah. Benny’s got one too, since he’s Captain of the Rescue Squad,” said Dean.

You made note of this with another impressed hum. You then sat down in his comfy office chair and twirled around, before you began perusing his desk area. It was a bit cluttered for your tastes, but you had a feeling Dean was an “organized chaos” kind of guy.

Dean remained standing with casually crossed arms. He watched you trace a finger around one of the picture frames he had on his desk, though he had a few.

There was one of him and Sam after he graduated from law school, cap and gown and all. Another was one of Sam, Dean, and John on one of the rare camping trips they did when they were kids, for Dean’s 13th birthday.

“That’s my dad,” Dean supplied. He pointed at the man, handsome, salt-and-pepper beard, dark eyes, and broad shoulders. Your brows raised of their own accord as your eyes blinked wider.

“Wow, look at that silver fox. I see where the handsome genes came from,” you teased.

Dean’s lips curved in amusement. “I’ll tell him you said that.”

You gave him a sidelong glance and playfully jabbed at his side. But you returned your attention to the last frame.

The picture inside was of a beautiful blonde woman, holding a newborn baby bundled up in her arms. You could see his small pink face peeking out, as well as a little boy cheese grinning over her shoulder. Your attention lingered on this one.

“Is that…”

“Yeah. That’s my mom,” Dean confirmed.

“She’s beautiful,” you said softly.

“Yeah, she was,” he said with a nod. And a thought filtered through his mind, one he spoke without really thinking about it. “Wish she could’ve met you.”

You turned to him more fully then, with a bit of wonder hidden behind your eyes.

“Yeah?” you asked.

Something in Dean’s chest clenched, but he grazed your cheek with his thumb and nodded, giving you a reserved smile. It hadn’t been that long at all since he met you. Just a couple of months. He couldn’t deny it though. It was true.

“I think she would’ve liked you,” he said with a shrug. Like it wasn’t such a big deal.

You both knew that wasn’t the case.

You stood out of his desk chair and went to him, gripping the front of his gray lieutenant’s shirt. You leaned up on your toes for a kiss that almost immediately deepened. Dean cradled your cheek with one hand and pulled you in close by your hip with the other, but you were the one who licked sensuously into his mouth.

He hummed deep in his throat, pleased and a little surprised when you pushed at his chest. He took your cue to step back, leading you along with him when he sat down on the edge of the neatly made cot. He guided you down by your hips, but you didn’t sink down into his lap the way he expected.

Instead, you slotted his right thigh between your legs and took a comfortable seat. You slid up his thigh with slow friction, giving him a small smile as you twined your arms around his neck. A smirk graced his lips as he held your hips.

“Don’t pretend like this wasn’t your plan all along,” you said.

You’d caught the look in his eye before he led you into his office. It made you wonder (with a tremor of unease) just how many women he’d given the “grand tour” of his office…

But you couldn’t let yourself fall down that train of thought. It was a futile thing that would ultimately just upset you, and no doubt would frustrate him. Whatever he did before he started dating you was his business. You just had to focus on the here and now…

And right now, you could already see the half-pitched tent in your boyfriend’s uniform pants as he began to touch you.

“You’re the one who came prepared, Little Miss Easy Access,” Dean remarked. His hands slid up your thighs, bunching up your dress the farther he went. Your lower belly clenched in anticipation when he brushed the edge of your panties. “Maybe I wasn’t the only one with a plan.”

A more amused smile grew across your face, despite the blush warming your cheeks. Something had just occurred to you.

“There’s no way we’re allowed to do this here,” you whispered, but Dean’s grip on your hips was already encouraging you to rock against his thigh.

“No one’s gotta know,” he replied. His voice was deeper, laced with grit. “Just try to stay quiet.”

AN: ...🫣 Sorry for leaving it there lol. But hey! Official girlfriend status! 😂 And how'd you like how they dealt with the Marissa of it all, and the reader meeting Sam for the first time?

Of course, there will be more in Part 9.~

Next Time:

“Where’re you goin’?” he teased.

You let out a quiet laugh. “I think we’ve pressed our luck enough for today.”

Dean leaned in to kiss your cheek. His lips then veered off toward your ear.

“But see, I’m pretty damn sure that pussy’s still on fire,” he said.

The depths in his voice made you shiver. Your spine undoubtedly prickled with arousal again. He smiled.

“You understand, I can’t let you go just yet.”

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb

@vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @katherineann814 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

#reader appreciation #lovely mutuals #smoke eater feedback

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pastafossa · 4 years ago

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The last 4-6 chapters (as of September 22nd) have body slammed me up down and side way. Woah what a weekend Matt and Reader had! 😏🥵

I think after that kind of weekend my legs too would cease to work. Also not Matt being so cocky about it! Smug!Devil is my favorite kinda devil. You can feel how much he loves Jane and how much he cherishes her. He doesn't take her for granted. He knows what he has with her is fragile and special. I think Jane also has the same understanding. At anymore their paradise could be taken away and their fighting so hard to keep it safe. I love the attention to detail you take a writer to accommodate for sensory details that regular sighted people may take for granted. I love that Jane wanted to cater to Matt's senses and wear really soft items and to make sure he felt seen. As someone who has a sensory processing issue, I think it's really touching.

Also round of applause for the Fog Man! I love Foggy with my whole being. Head to toe he is the realest MVP. Doing unknown things are scary and Foggy put himself of there to help Jane learn more about her self and what they're going to be up against with the White Coat man. Karen is also willing to be a guinea pig which just stand to say that Jane has made quite a few meaningful relationships. I don't think Jane quite fully understands that.

I love Circo (I'm so sorry if I spelled that wrong). I love that the Ferryman and his hound dog have such a tight relationship. I'm interested to see what up his sleeve. I think he would try and help Jane have as much of a normal life as she could.

Thank you again for writing such compelling and beautiful work. I look forward to every Tuesday.

THANK YOU SO MUCH MY FRIEND!

Whole thing after the cut just so it's not a big block of text

They really did have a wild as hell weekend just the two of them, and considering Matt's training regimen, there's no way to roll through a weekend like that with him without walking a little funny at the end of it. And he knew it, thus his smugness, yeah. 😂 I really did try to weave that love and affection in there, though. They're both, indeed, very aware of just how fragile this little world is that they've built, and to be honest, if they could have dragged that weekend out any longer, they would have. It was a moment of peace and warmth for them, no pain, no tragedy, just... them. And it's going to be work for them to keep what they've found with each other, but damned if they aren't willing to put in the work.

Rest after the cut so it's not just a block of text!

And thank you! 😭 I try to take so much care when writing for or about Matt, because yes he's got his heightened senses (although as we've seen those have downsides too), but he's still not a sighted person, and for me that's incredibly important to remember. And because that should be important to anyone who's in a relationship with him, I've tried to ensure Jane feels the same way. I really do think something like wearing soft fabrics on nights like that, specifically so that they'd be nice for him to touch, would be a lovely little way to let him know he's understood and cared for (and like you, I have a few neuro things that cause sensory issues, so at the very least I always relate to the Desire For Soft Things, cause half the world is sandpaper when I am having a bad daaaaaay). So I'm glad that worked out here! 🥰

Foggy is seriously like, we need more Foggy in the world. He was given something that, yeah, kinda scary, but he just leapt into it because it helps his friend, and managed to find the silver lining of, oh man I get to be a Psychic Power Buddy! Which he obviously finds very cool, but the vast majority of it was, help the friend. And yup, Karen is just as in! Something Jane hasn't quite picked up on, is Karen recognized the Wary Stray Hound vibe Jane's got (especially after finding out more about who was after her), and so was perfectly content to just be friendly and otherwise leave it be until Jane opened up. It's one of the wonderful things I loved about Team Nelson and Murdock. They're these three people who all, in their own way, recognize when they find a broken or hurt or wounded soul, and they all generally end up wanting to help in the best kind of way. Jane really hasn't realized yet that this is what happened, and it's gonna hit her like a truck when it does.

No worries on his name either! The Ferryman and his hound really do have a deep, loving father-daughter relationship going on. It's weirdly wholesome considering Ciro kills people does things that aren't so good. And he would absolutely support Jane trying to have a normal life if she can get one. He's never been the, you must follow in my footsteps kind of person for his daughters. He'd have been perfectly happy if they did (and for a time, there were certain people who thought the Hound might), but he mostly just wants them to be alive (aka: the reason he doesn't like Matt, since this ew penniless ethical lawyer probably can't keep her safe) and happy. Things are definitely going to get interesting when Ciro comes for a visit. We'll have to see what he gets up to...

Thank you so much for the comment, and for reading! 🥰

#ask response #the red thread #I have a sensory issue to so first *fist bump of solidarity*#but yeah it means we kinda know from experience that little things go a long way #I've always tried to make sure from the beginning #that Jane just makes the accommodations that he needs even outside a relationship #like oh my lawyer is blind well obvs I need a printer for paper #oh I need to leave a label boom two day shipping here's a label maker #oh the Lawyer is now sometimes sleeping in my bed with me like my teddy bear #boom silk sheets #oh I'm now basically in a relationship and I'm in hiding but need to send him a gift hey look a seashell that feels interesting #finding ways to make Matt feel seen or loved gives my brain dopamine #also yeah Foggy is legit MVP he is a KING #I want a foggy #and a karen tbh so she can bulldoze my issues and then go shopping with me #I love these characters so fucking much #Even Ciro who is terrible but also wholesome

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akane171 · 3 years ago

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Haha, not that long 😉

Ahh, okay🤔 Yeah, it kinda does… It’s just full on ridiculous that they spent 3 seasons establishing Kara’s biggest problem being that she can’t be Kara Zor-El on Earth and doesn’t feeling comfortable without the Kara Danvers/Supergirl part of herself (as shown on Argo) only to never get back to that and instead act as if being Supergirl had been the problem… And no, apparently, they do not at all remember what they’d written…😫

Oh, and about the Kadashian comparison: 😂 First thing I had to think of was that Karamel fight all the way back in S2 when Kara claimed Mon not superheroing made him a bad person and he told her that she only liked the attention/worship 😅🙈 (Btw, I’m still dissapointed they never had Kara learn/acknowledge that you do NOT have to be a superhero to be a good person and that living a normal, calm life is NOT selfish… Like, when I first saw that scene, I was admittedly very annoyed at her, but it makes sense for her to take that position because she did seem to have major survivor’s guilt and helper syndrome, but that’s no healthy way of thinking and it’s ridiculous everyone who claims to love her never sat down with her and made her understand that she has a right to live without having to be “useful” or whatever. Like, just no. Poor Kara…

Can’t say much about the reporter thing, I only saw a few scenes after S3, but I’ll take your word for it🙈😅

Ohhh, yeah, that idea is full on evil😍😂 Those comments are cruel, but genius, and I can totally see an angry 20-year old who lost her father and brother say that🙈🙈 And Ohhh, that scene with Winn showing up and the necklace would be epic 😱😍😂 The goodbye scene is already breaking my heart and you haven’t even described it 😭😭😭 (Tho is the version of Kara who went back dead or did she really just not come back? Poor Maya in either case🙈😭)

Maya from El Mayarah is so sweet and genius that knowing what will happen in her life becomes even sadder… You pure evil genius😭 (What’s her brother’s name then? Kaolan from “kaoshuh”?🤔😂😉)

Queen of not written angst alright😂 I feel like your ideas alone might be more angsty than anything LW has written up till now😂

Scifi, clones and no romance at all? Ohh, you’re really set on extending my “still to read whenever life decides to stop being annoying and give me time to read actual books again”-list, aren’t you?😂😉 Sounds interesting tho!

Ohhh, that really sounds like a curse😳 But I get it, most of my favourite characters are ultra-tragic idiots or side characters who get overlooked anyway, so getting screwed is something i expect going into a story nowadays… At least fanfics can fix stuff!😁 (Ohh, yeah, I know Ichiruki 😅 I always thought they were a thing and Orihime was his sister until years later a friend told me about the ending😅)

Ohhh, Lydia’s mom 🤦🏻‍♀️ Right, totally forgot she still existed since we barely ever saw her😅 And Dunno, I still feel like Lydia would have been best with Parrish or back with a redeemed&kinder Jackson😅 (Their moment in the finally was cute 😂 They’d have been an awesome BROTP as well, if Jackson had still been around)

Ahh, yes, relatable😅 I just forgot he had a first name since noone ever called him that 🙈🤦🏻‍♀️(Would have been funny to see how he’d have reacted to someone actually calling his name tho🤔😂)

Just four?!?! Okay, kill me now. I won’t survive that if I can’t go get fluffy/angsty alternatives😭😅😂🙈

Ohhh, okay, good to know 😅 Then I REALLY shouldn’t get into those books right now but wait for when I actually don’t have other urgent things to do🤣 I’m bad enough about binging books already, with that much “fuel”, I would’t do anything but read 24/7 for the next 3 weeks or so😂 (Themes like Depression and split personalities?😍 Jup, definitely on the to-read-list!)

Yup, hard not to since most digimon fics seem to be mix-ups anyway 😂 Sadly, the old fics have been kinda silent the last few years 😅 I’m already ready to cry and throw a parade when Shara Raizel updates one of her stories once a year on Odaiba day😂

And uhh, a bit, but it’s usually crap and I only do it to get that itch to draw outta my system through doing it and growing frustrated enough with the result to not make another attempt for the next year or so🙈😅

Oh god, you learnt German in school?😅 I’m so sorry for you🙈 Dealing with all the articles etc is a freaking mess on a good day😅🤢🙈 Ohh, did you watch it on RTL2?😂

Ehh, well, Fairy Tail itself wasn’t bad (tho it did get more and more ridiculous and too sexualized at some point IMO), but the ship wars were overwhelming, like e.g. NaLi vs. NaLu… (Tbh, I could mostly get away from that cause at some point I made one of the very-side characters my favourite and fanfics involving him mostly don’t deal with the problematic pairings😅)

Ohh, Naruto… Haha, yeah… That fandom was a mess too😅 Tho the fanmade next generations and fanarts were spectacular🤔😂

As long as the show is better than the movies, I don’t think they can mess up toooooo much (hopefully I didn’t just jinx it😅🙈)

Where would be the Fun if there was no weirdness?😉😊

Hush you, they don’t have to agree, it is as it is: You guys are too nice!😂

Aww, thanks, you too!😊

PS: Sorry about the long messages🙈🙈

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Under the cut :D

I’m just so done. Aside of the fact they bascially made her a clone of Clark (journalist, usamerican perfect citizen, who cares she remembers krypton, William = Lois, humanity uwu etc) just wearing a skirt (well, hello s5) and aside i really liked her space puppy happy personality, look how they fucking MISSED the opportunity when they have ridden of ALL what made her outstanding in comics. The fact she remembered Krypton, she didn’t kiss humanity ass, always felt like an outsider, anger issues etc. Juts imagine how Melissa would absolutely nail it. Sigh

I mean, wasn’t he right in a bit? That was so splendid about him in the beginning o s2 - he was able to call out her shit. I mean, I was wondering about it too- so waht, someone has paiting talent but don;t want to be a painter/artist and what? He or she should be damned for wasting talent? While he or she wants, dunno, farmer. And people who don’t have some talents should not persuade careers when THEY want? Also, what about Kara? With her point of view, she should just forget about journalism and spent 24h on saving people. And well, funny thing, she SUCKED at being a reporter. The fact i can do something, doesn’t mean I HAVE TO. Like???????

Seriously the writers wanted to give us some Oh My God Eye Opening statements, while we got plastic.

In which they could have given Kara’s therapy but decided whyyyyyyyy, boring, let’s focus on Kara’s reporting career, so exciting yay

Believe me, as an ex reporter, it was shit and painful to watch without rolling eyes.

Hmm, I don’t know. I thought about making Kara staying for good reason in the present, because shit happening or something and then being unable of coming back? The point was she would be the selfless hero who always puts others above her happiness and well bieng. But what happens, when becasue of that her family suffers?

Kaolan? Lan for short? Works! Congrats! You are godmother of a some poor karamel kid who was killed and I’m not even going to wrote about :D Also, you don’t want to know about the scene when Maya learns her father died ;DDDDD

That’s why I’m not writing them. But who knows, maybe one day? When i will need to release the whole annoyance I’m still feeling after s6.

I mean… you screwed yourself when you said you like reading books. Sorry, not sorry, you are on my radar now.

So, tragic high-five, then? I guess we just like something else than typical romances/storylines/plots etc. And that is usually left for side characters who are more likely to die horrible deaths or being ignored. Sometime I wish I had liked things all other people like *stares into teh void*

I mean… they were typical shounen endgame? And they were fucked? Because apparently MY FAULT??? TT God, IchiHimeeeee was my absolute NOTP (a big breasted, cute, sweet, fangirl and every japanese dude perfect waifu wet dream). Tbh, the same happened to me and Naruto, so yay for me ==’

Lol, that moment she smiled so broadly and ran to him and how they embraced for a while and how Mieciu was butthurt. Perfect scene showing how srydia was a fanservice :)))))

Come on, The Hellhound and The Banshee - THE POTENTIAL?!!!! OMG?!!!! And he was the first guy who ALWAYS treated her like his equal and a mature intelligent girl, with respect and everything. And ugh. Remember their jail scene? Or the coffee? Or the lighter scene? Or how she “attacked” him when they were searching for Nemeaton (or… whatever that was called). And how she screamed in his naked chest and he just absorbed it an saved everyone? HOLY FUCK AND IT WAS WASTED.

And now I remembered how pissed off I still am about it. I even written fics about them. sigh.

Greenberg calling him Bobby would be a peak comedy.

READ LIGHTBRINGER FIRST! Heh, I do it too. READING like a maniac and not knowing what is happening around me. But i try very hard to read every day, even a little, to not end with Oh, I Haven’t Read A Single Page In A Month D:

Let’s not talk about not finished fics from old fandoms or I’m going to howl…. But fingers crossed all your fics are going to be updated!

Ouch. I mean, I was a big fan of Sailor Moon and tried to draw them but yeaaaaaaah, no. But I guess we all manga/anime fans tried to draw at some point xD

Yeah… well, I had German for two years and my energy was focused just on “PASS AND FORGET”. The fucking articles. Who needs them, for god’s sake….

Bingo! RTL2 was my never ending source of anime at some point xD the funny thing is i kind of understood the storylines even if I could have only ordered a beer in german xD nothing more advanced xD

I mean… i saw some drawings from FairyTale and…. so typical….

You know what is the worst thing about side charcters? No fics about THEM, usually they are just cheerleaders for the main ships. That pisses me off too.

Yeah, naruto fandom created a lot of amazing stuff, still I kept my ass away from them as far as I could have xD

tbh, I kind of erased naruto from my memory, movies included (I had like… 50 volumes at home but when it ended i just donated them all to local library because I was so dissapointed with the end)

ikr?!!! You get me, yay!

Thanks again :D

PS. Make them as long as you want ;3

#my fam

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danpuff-ao3 · 3 years ago

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Fic Writer Wrapped - 2021 Edition

Thanks for the tag @severus-dramatic-gothic-nerd

Also will be going with "fic published" to keep things straight!

How many stories did you complete?

23 posted. 1 is a wip and 2 are drabble collections I'm adding to as inspiration strikes! Which leaves...20 complete!

What is your total word count for the year?

64,774

What fandoms did you write in this year?

Harry Potter

Did you write more, less, or roughly about what you expected?

Waaaay more! Especially considering the huge chunk of writer's block I dealt with around the middle of the year.

What’s your favorite story of the year?

Oh this is such a hard one! I wrote 23 things so like....how to narrow it down? Okay I'm gonna stick to my usual nonsense and list more than one. 😂

Collateral Damage (Draco/Ron) - it was the longest fic I wrote in 2021 and not even for my OTP! It was a blast to write, not only as a fun prompt to explore, but also learning how much I love Draco's POV (and how easy it came to me!)

Spaghetti (Harry/Snape, kind of) - which means Severus doesn't actually appear in the story. It's a story that is both about Harry and his friends (present) but also Harry with Severus (thoughts/feelings about his relationship coming through when he tries to tell his friends.) It's a concept I've been wanting to write for a while, Harry's friends not reacting well to Snarry, and finally made it come alive! And I'm really, really happy with the finished product.

Loverboy at Play (Harry/Snape) - wrote this one in a day for Kinktober and I love it!!!! I wrote so many kinks and concepts I'd been wanting to for a while and they all came together magically for Kinktober! (Why did it not occur to me to combine virgin!top!Harry with Parseltongue kink before then, I have no idea.)

What is your most underappreciated story of the year?

Hard to say! The stories that didn't do well, I didn't really expect to do well. (Gen stories, rare pairs, content warnings, etc.) But I'll list 3 that I love that I wish more people loved, too.

Spaghetti (Harry/Snape) - yup, one of my faves made it to this list 😂 Mostly because I love it so much and I wish more people loved it as much as I do. But I think "Harry's friends reacting badly to his relationship with Snape" is a pretty specific concept that likely I'm the only one dying for more of. 😂

Choice (Harry/Snape) - deals with touchy subject matter like mpreg and contemplations of abortion. There's no real plot. Just lotsa thoughts and feelings. But it's a story that meant a lot to me that I still love dearly and think about often. Another one I think is just too specific to what my heart needed and not what other people care about. 😅

Teardrop in Your Palm (Scorpius/Harry; background Harry/Snape): I think the specific combination of ships is too odd, and the non-con aspect probably drove people off, too. Oh and the underage bit. But I love this story, dang it! Angst and all. Another one I wrote in a day for Kinktober!

Biggest fanfic-related disappointment of 2021?

Probably the fact that I didn't finish smile with sweet surprise. Chapter 1 went up May 5 and....now it's January 2022. 😂 At least I'm making progress with it finally.

Biggest fanfic-related surprise of 2021?

Boxes & Baubles got more love than I expected! Enough love that it had a podfic made of it as well as a Russian translation! I'm very glad because I love that story a lot, I just wasn't expecting it! 😄

Also the fact that I busted out of my writer's block with a vengeance during Kinktober! 11 of those 23 posted fics were written from October to December!! 27,001 words of what I wrote and posted in that time period. I wrote way more than what was posted in that time period!!!!

Something you look forward to working on in 2022?

More of smile with sweet surprise! I'm pretty determined to finish that fic this year. Final product should be 4-5 chapters so...doable I think! (But I also thought that last year so 🤷‍♀️) I have lots of fics I'd like to work on. Another Yes, Daddy story. Another Draco/Remus story. Some other ideas sitting in my 2022 Scrivener project. But I especially want to plot, at the very least, one of the longfic ideas I have.

Tag yourself and do this if you like!

#fic writer wrapped 2021 #danpuff writes

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wildernessuntothemselves · 2 years ago

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There are many egyptian kpop stans (i'm told by my younger kpop friend since people my age aren't into kpop) but yeah hard to find one in the wild 😂

I moved to the U.S so long ago and haven't visited for quite a while, so I'm surprised (but not at the same time lol, we've been consuming popular asian media for so long) idol music is somewhat popular among egyptian youth. Might have to ask my niece about it 😂

Aywa tab3an ana 3ysha f masr asln bs ente gayale wana mesafra 5als 😂

Arabic-english phonetics? This is so relatable. Whenever I text someone in arabic I never use the letters, for some reason, it's so exhausting lol. Struggling to find the 3ain letter equivalent and opting for 3 😂

Oh good don't come back then 😂 not even to visit 😂

Yeah but I'm told the fans are very obnoxious 😂

Yup I try to avoid typing out in the arabic alphabet generally because it's annoying switching keyboards when I'm since I speak a mix of arabic and english to my friends and family and also because my spelling is shit and people make fun of me when I write in arabic :')

#mort talks

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iprobablyshipit91 · 2 years ago

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I’ve been so excited for this instalment and dear god did it not disappoint.

Telling her family they’re pregnant was so cute. I love Marie and how fond she is of Ben. It really hits home with me, I feel like sometimes my family like my husband more than me 😂 my grandparents especially always made way more fuss of him 😂 and I love that Ben is all gruff about it but the reader can see he secretly loves her. He needs and clearly craves that motherly love and it’s so nice to see him get it.

So happy to see Frank and loco back! And those gifts were cute. You just know Frank loves the reader especially 😂

But why am I not surprised bens expecting and planning everything with a son. It’s just very him to not consider a girl. Although let’s be honest, with how protective he’s no doubt going to be over her I think a son might be safer 😜 can you imagine his daughter trying to bring a boyfriend home?! 😂 I digress. Side note: I would totally love to read that in future if you were up for it 😜

But oh damn that scan did not go well. I was really frustrated at Ben. For someone who’s wanted this for so long he really ruined what should have been a really special moment. I felt the reader was actually quite tame in her reaction to him to be fair.

““All right, that could’ve gone better,” he said. “But look at it from my point of view—”” oh no he didn’t. Really Ben? That’s where you’re going to go right now 🙈🙈 I’m surprised the reader didn’t rip his head off. I’m so glad she got it all out and really made him understand exactly what he did. I relate to her fears so much. Even with two very loving parents growing up, having a baby is terrifying. I worry every day I’m not the best mum I can and want to be, that shit hits you like a freight train. There’s no wonder the reader is feeling how she is. I’m glad Ben pointed out about Lou though because she did do an amazing job there. But then of course this line “The truth is, I couldn’t wait to fuck you raw to make this happen.” I was laughing so hard and must admit, the boy did good, starting at least to making it up to her.

But OH MY GOD he proposed?! 🥹🥹🥹 I can’t. With such a perfect ring to with it being his mums 🥰🥰 I just can’t even right now. “Marry me,” but of course it’s more a demand than question. I love that the reader calls that out and totally makes him do it again. But then he comes out with this ““If I had to go back, do it all over again,” he said, “I wouldn’t have done a damn thing different.”” And I’m a puddle all over again. The absolute weight of what he’s saying here. All he went through with the literally being tortured for years and he would do it again to end up in that moment with her. 🫠🫠 I’m done.

I can’t believe we had to skip out on the wedding… maybe you would consider that as a time stamp at some point too 😇😇

I don’t even know where to start on the next scene. I absolute love how you’ve solved the issue of different aging and the reader refusing to take any kind of V24 or anything. I loved it. The sex talk was funny with the reader being quite embarrassed and Ben just not giving a damn. I was absolutely dying at this line “He’s morally opposed to them, doctor,” because yup. That’s Ben alright. And then this follow up “Are you saying that I gave her my superpowers…like an STD?” Just brilliant. I loved it. And their teasing conversation after was utterly heartwarming. The fact the reader was going to try and figure this out for him anyway shows how much their relationship has progressed. And god, it would be so hard to know you’re going to outlive all your family but I guess they have each other at least.

And then the final scene. Like damn girl, you have really had my emotions all over the place with this 🥹

I loved this line “He’d become even more protective, but also very sweet to you in these past several months. More so than you’d thought him capable of, but it warmed you every time, when you considered how rough, how stoic, and how damn-near emotionally repressed he was not so very long ago.” You know one of my favourite thing about this verse is how you’ve grown and developed Ben and I can absolutely see him at this point now. He’s so different to the character we met before.

But honestly I was a blubbering mess by the end of this. It was just so sweet and adorable and perfect. You’ve sensuously knocked it out the park. This was amazing.

I must admit though I’m kinda dying to know the baby’s name!

Do I want to see more time stamps with a kid? um yes please! Daft question 😂 I will literally devour anything you write with these two and their little family because I love, love, love them!

Amazing job my friend 💕 this was beautiful 🥹

Strong as Blood - Part 2

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Summary: After you accidentally break through a solid wood table, you know there’s something wrong with you. You begin to have your suspicions, but can you keep it from Ben long enough to find out?

(In other words: This is the story of how you and Ben discover that you’re pregnant.)

AN: And here's Part 2! (This two-part fic can be read as stand-alone, but it’s really a bonus sequel to Break Me Down!)

Here’s the chronological reading order for the series:

Break Me Down

Love Actually

Checkerboard

Strong As Blood (Part 1)

(Also, for those of you in the medical field…try to suspend your disbelief on this one. 😅)

Word Count: 6,200 Tags/Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff overload.

Part 2: “One Year, Forty, and a Hundred”

About a week later, you and Ben told your family the good news.

Your mom, Marie, took Ben’s face in her hands and pressed a delighted motherly kiss on his cheek, and then his forehead.

He very narrowly tolerated it with his usual gruffness, but you knew better. You saw the fond glint well hidden in his eyes, even after Marie released him.

It hadn’t taken her long after meeting Ben to start treating him like a son; always asking about his missions with Supe Affairs, praising a job well done when he had a successful report, and offering a supportive word even when they didn’t quite go his way.

Ben maintained his usual stoic bravado, but you knew he secretly ate up the praise, along with Marie’s genuine, nurturing nature.

Every time you saw your mother, she would give you baked goods in tupperware—for both of you, she claimed. But you noticed they were most often his favorites. You had a feeling she’d won him over early on with her macadamia nut brownies. (She still couldn’t cook worth a damn either, but she’d been taking a baking class.)

So Ben continued to help her do the dishes, even though she insisted he was a guest in her home. He claimed he was doing it so you wouldn’t jump in yourself.

And now we’re family, you had pointed out. Then Ben gifted you with one of those smiles, subtle and pleased, just for you.

You felt somewhat lazy, just sitting at the kitchen table with your sister Luisa. She sat close to you with her arm looped around yours, and she rubbed your lower back, which you now realized had been aching more often. For God’s sake, you hadn’t even realized you were late on your period.

I need to take some time off work, even before this kid gets here, you mused.

Realistically though, you should’ve expected this might happen. You hadn’t ever gotten around to replacing your IUD after you’d gotten it removed a few months ago. And God knew, Ben didn’t know how to pull out. (And he certainly didn’t buy condoms.)

“What’re you hoping for, a boy or a girl?” Louisa asked you and Ben, disrupting the path of your thoughts. You turned to your sister thoughtfully.

She still had her reservations about him, but she seemed to be warming up to your boyfriend a bit more after you told her the news. Especially after Ben had explained one of his plans over dinner.

His first thought was to hire Frank and Loco back as your personal security throughout your pregnancy, and likely even afterwards.

It was a rare time when you didn’t argue with him; the idea made sense, especially if you were going to continue working in Surveillance at Supe Affairs until you went on maternity leave. And, it would just be great to see them again. Frank had already agreed to start on Monday, after giving his polite congratulations.

(You and Ben each got a package in the mail yesterday: a box of bonafide Cuban cigars for him, a maternity body pillow for you, and a hand-crafted toy box for the baby. Inside had been a white noise sound machine to help the baby sleep.)

But now, Ben brightened at Louisa’s question. He crossed his arms and leaned against the kitchen counter.

“A son,” he replied. How brow rose, as if the answer was obvious. “I’ll be able to bring him up right. Strong. Not like these beanie-wearing pantywaists running the fucking Starbucks.”

“Ben,” you warned. He crossed his arms at you, quite literally standing firm on his stance. But your mother just smiled and pat his arm.

“It’s okay, honey,” she said. “I understand what you mean.”

You raised an incredulous brow.

Oh sure, you thought. She didn’t mind salty language when it was Ben, but God forbid you or Luisa bang a toe in your mother’s presence. Nor did it surprise you that she was agreeing with him.

But then Marie turned to him more earnestly.

“The way you take care of my daughter, I have no doubt you’ll make an excellent father,” she told him.

Ben treated her with a charming smile that showed touches of warmth.

Damn, you thought, as you felt the telltale burn of tears in your eyes. But it wasn’t just about what Marie had said. You had hoped for this one day, but it seemed he was finally making room for your family in his heart too.

“Football. A man’s game,” Ben continued. “I’ll teach him, take him fishing. Everything my old man didn’t bother with, I’ll do it all. Bring him up right…”

As your boyfriend chatted away with your mom, you hid a tendril of worry. You wondered what would happen if the baby turned out to be a girl.

With a glance at your sister, her subtle, raised brows told you she was thinking along the same lines. You sighed and got up; once again, it was time to pee.

Louisa followed you into the hall and laid a hand on your back.

“Hey,” she said. “You know how much I care about you, right?”

“And where’s this going?” you quipped. But you turned around and gave your little sister a half-smile. You knew what she was about to say.

“So what are you going to do about that?” she asked, gesturing to your man in the kitchen. “Mr. Macho wants his prized stud. What happens if he doesn’t get him?”

You sighed. “Ben’s wanted this for a long time. He’s got an idea in his head of what it’s going to be like, and…we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

Louisa’s lips pursed, like she wasn’t quite satisfied with that answer.

“And what about you?” she asked. “How do you feel about this?”

You blinked back at her in slight surprise, but then your expression melted into a soft smile.

“I’m happy, Lou,” you said. Tears welled up in your eyes, yet again. “I’m really happy.”

Louisa relented then, squeezing your hand. “Good…then good. I’m happy for you too.”

And that was really all you wanted.

“What? You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Ben said, peering harder at the ultrasound. The kind OBGYN faltered, though she again tried to point out that what he was looking at was actually a small foot.

“Congratulations,” she told you both. “She’s the right size for twelve weeks of development. And look there, you can even see the umbilical cord—”

“You sure this thing isn’t on the fritz?” Ben asked, bumping the ultrasound monitor with his hand.

“Ben.” You looked over at him with a glare. “Are you serious right now?”

He looked back over at you, and you saw his stubbornness in his frown and knitted brows.

“I’m just saying—” he started, but you didn’t let him get that far.

“You heard the freakin’ doctor. We’re having a girl,” you snapped. “I’m the one who has the transvaginal probe shoved up inside me, so shut the fuck up!”

Ben’s jaw worked as he barely held himself from barking back at you. It wouldn’t be the first time you levied your smart mouth at him, but it wasn’t often that you disrespected him.

“Excuse me?” he still groused.

His anger got waylaid though. He watched you heave a sigh and blink quickly, so you wouldn’t release the well of frustrated tears building behind your eyes.

The doctor looked between you both warily. You turned to her with watery eyes, and you sniffed to keep your emotions at bay.

“Continue, please.”

When the appointment with the OBGYN was done, you didn’t let Ben help you down from the examining table. Nor did you let him touch you, all the way to the car.

An hour later, you both made it back to the apartment you shared in Scarsdale. You stomped up the stairs ahead of him and beelined into the bedroom. You had half a mind to slam the door in his face, but you didn’t have the energy to be that petty.

Frankly, you were exhausted with a tinge of nausea. But you didn’t know if that was pregnancy sickness, or if you were just that anxious.

You sat down on your side of the bed, and you sighed when you heard Ben’s heavy footsteps enter in behind you.

“All right, that could’ve gone better,” he said. “But look at it from my point of view—”

That nearly unhinged you. Your stomach roiled, but you got to your feet and turned around to face him where he stood by the foot of the bed, arms crossed.

“It’s not all about you,” you shot back. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m the one carrying this baby. I’m not just a human incubator.”

“I fucking know that,” he retorted, but you raised a hand to silence him.

“And you’re not the only one who’s wanted this,” you said. Against your will, your eyes once again burned with tears as you held yourself. “You know very well what I’ve…that I didn’t have a normal family growing up.”

Ben quieted. His irritation softened around the edges, especially as your voice trembled.

“Don’t you know what it’s going to mean to me to give our child what I didn’t have?” you asked. “Stability, support, and…and love, from both parents?”

Tears slipped down your cheeks. And when he didn’t seem to have anything to say to you, you shook your head and walked away.

Ben let out a heavy breath. He followed you and stopped you in the living room. “Listen—”

“No, you listen,” you snapped, whirling around on him. “I would’ve been content no matter if it was a boy or a girl, and you ruined that today. You really did.”

His gaze briefly fell to the floor, before it met yours again.

“But even with that, I’m still happy,” you said, as your vision became blurry and wet. “I’m so damn happy…and so scared.”

When you finally broke down crying, Ben got a full picture of just how badly he’d fucked this up. He collected you in his arms and guided you to sit with him on the couch. There he held you as you clung to him and wept into his neck.

The longer it went on, the more he felt like an asshole—with the kind of uncomfortable, gut-churning remorse that only you tended to draw from him.

Ben hesitated, but he knew you deserved to hear him say it. (And you probably wouldn’t let this go until he did.)

“Okay, sweetheart, calm down,” he rumbled in your ear. Along with, "…I’m sorry."

The weight of that fell between you for a moment. You nodded, with a sniff, and he slowly rubbed your back.

“You don’t need to be scared,” he said. “My blood’s making you nice and strong.”

Well, technically it was the baby’s blood, and the super genes they held. You shook your head against his neck.

“That’s not it,” you said. “I mean, that’s part of it, I guess. Dr. Baker didn’t do a great job of reassuring me, but she did say that if the strength lasts throughout the birth, she didn’t expect serious complications.”

Fuck. Ben’s hand tightened in your hair. That...was a thought he hadn't considered. It now made his stomach clench, though he remained silent.

He wished you would’ve taken him with you to see Dr. Baker, but he guessed he couldn’t begrudge you for your worries. He knew he'd be having his own talk with the good doctor soon enough.

“I love my mom. She did her best, you know? But I…I’ve had to take care of myself for most of my life,” you explained, with a hand fisted tight in his shirt. “What the hell do I know about being a mom?”

Ben considered that with a frown. He pulled back enough to see your face, tucking his curled fingers beneath your chin so you’d look at him.

“You looked after your sister, didn’t you?” he reminded. “Made sure she was safe, and grew up right. Not to mention, you take care of me. And you got no problem calling me out on my bullshit.”

That got a slight smile out of you. He brushed away another one of your tears with his thumb.

“You’re gonna be great, sweetheart. I never had any doubts about that,” he said, “The truth is, I couldn’t wait to fuck you raw to make this happen.”

You spluttered a laugh then, even though you were still weeping.

“Yeah, I know,” you said with a wry smile, stroking his bearded cheek. You leaned up and kissed the other cheek. He turned his head and went for your lips. The kiss was slow and tender while he held you where you always felt safe.

Ben grasped the hand on his cheek…and an idea flickered through his mind.

He parted from you, only to say, “Wait here.”

Your brows furrowed, and you blinked through wet lashes. “What?”

“Just stay put for me,” he said.

But he didn’t tell you what he was up to as he left you on the couch to duck into the bedroom. You took the time to wipe at your eyes and take some deep, calming breaths.

Ben came back soon after, seemingly empty-handed as he sat down next to you. You gave him a curious look.

He slipped a hand into his pocket. “Just for the record, I’ve had this for a while.”

And he pulled a black velvet box out of his pocket. You let out a shaky breath of surprise. The ring he pulled out wasn’t a flashy, gaudy thing like you half-expected. It actually looked delicate, and vintage, pale gold with filigree around the hexagonal stone. It glittered, even in the dim lamplight.

“Where’d you find that?” you asked. But somehow, looking into his eyes, you knew what this was.

“Besides those old pictures, the only thing I’ve got left of my mother is right here,” he said, holding up the ring for you. More burgeoning tears fell down your cheeks as your heart constricted.

“Marry me,” he said, rubbing his thumb across the back of your hand.

Despite yourself, a smile raised the corner of your mouth. “Hmm, I don’t know. Is that a question?”

Ben released a breath. Reluctantly, he smirked.

“Fucking figures that you’d make this difficult,” he said.

“You’re the one who fumbled at the goal line, Romeo,” you replied cheekily.

You then gestured at the ground in front of you. He raised a brow.

But, he obliged your demands, making a show of sliding from the couch, down to the ground. He parted your jean-clad knees so he could move in between them. He knelt one knee on the hard wood, and once again took your hand.

Ben somehow hesitated on the question, even though you both were hanging on his words. With your free hand, you smoothed his hair away from his eyes, subtly encouraging him.

“If I had to go back, do it all over again,” he said, “I wouldn’t have done a damn thing different.”

You frowned at him. “Really?”

“That’s right,” he said. “Because I’m right where I want to be.”

You teared up all over again when you realized what he was really saying. You laid a hand on his chest, where his fiercest power resided. He squeezed the hand he held.

“So what’s it gonna be, sweetheart. Will you marry me?” Ben asked. His smirk was almost boyish, despite his age. And yet, it was so very him.

You reached out with your free hand and slid your fingers through his hair, resting it at the back of his neck.

“Yeah,” you agreed, with a beaming smile. “Let’s do it.”

He slipped the ring on your finger, where it fit well. And it was now the most beautiful thing you owned, not only for its shining beauty.

You pulled him in for a kiss. His hands burned up your thighs, squeezing your hips. But again, he hesitated. His lips pulled away from yours as his hand moved to brush your belly. It was already brimming with life. He’d seen the images, heard the heartbeat.

“Thank you,” Ben said. His voice was deep and gruff.

You smiled. With a nod, you held him to you, laying a sweet path of kisses from his cheek, down to his neck.

“I love you,” you said.

He just nodded in response. His throat was tight at the moment. But you wouldn’t let him get off that easy.

“Say it,” you jostled him in your arms. “I’m only growing a super melon for you.”

It earned you an amused look from him.

“I love you too,” he said. His voice was a bit coarse, and laden with rare emotion. You pulled him into a stronger hug, which soon became him dragging you into his lap when he raised himself up onto to the couch. You took his face in your hands.

“See? We made it here,” you teased. You knew he remembered the conversation you two had a few months ago, about waiting a little while to take this next step in your relationship. To have a family.

“Soon. Not someday,” he’d told you. And you’d agreed.

You reminded him of it now while you stroked his face. “I promised you, didn’t I?”

He snorted at that. “You sure took your fucking time with that one, huh?”

“Excuse me?” you retorted.

Ben pulled you into a kiss before you could truly get going. Arguing with him was one of the things you did best.

But what you two ended up doing on the couch was second to none.

A few months later…

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Ben said. His tone was edged, his brows crunching. “What kind of development?”

You curled a hand around his wrist, shooting him a calming look before you returned your attention to Dr. Baker.

“What do you mean, Tonya?” you asked. Your other hand continued to rest over your belly.

At the seven-month mark of your pregnancy, you felt like you were beginning to resemble a parade float as you sat on the medical examining table in the doctor’s office. But you were grateful for Ben’s warm hand spanning the small of your back. It gave you stability as a coil of anxiety began to bloom in your chest.

Dr. Baker reviewed her charts once more. You didn’t like that gleam of scientific interest in her eye while she perused the data, then looked up at you and Ben from her narrow-framed glasses.

“Not with the baby. She’s doing very well,” she said.

That gave you a measure of immense relief.

“The development concerns you,” she clarified, meeting your gaze. “As you know, we’ve been monitoring you very closely.”

You nodded. The weekly checkups and monthly blood panels served to both soothe and increase your anxiety, but you knew that it made Ben feel better, that you were being taken care of in this aspect of your pregnancy.

To government knowledge, no one other than Becca Butcher had ever gone through a pregnancy of this nature. And Homelander had been created in a lab. This was breaking somewhat new ground (which was only in the top five of “things that made you nervous.”)

“I found something…interesting in your bloodwork,” said Dr. Baker. She pulled out two charts from her files and clipped them onto her whiteboard for you and Ben to see. They looked virtually the same, with one graph’s red bars slightly lower than the first.

“What’s that?” Ben asked.

“It’s your wife’s cell regeneration levels,” the doctor replied, pointing to the second graph. “Hers have become almost as high as yours.”

She pointed to the first graph for comparison. You leaned in closer to see as your eyes widened. With the weight of your belly making you off balance, you nearly slid off the examining table. Ben noticed and caught you quick. His arms came around you, though as the news donned on him, his face slid into shock.

“What?” he uttered.

“That’s got to be because of the baby,” you reasoned. “Is it…just temporary? Like the super strength.”

Even that was somewhat intermittent. Some days, you felt your aches and pains and experienced morning sickness and food aversions, like any other pregnant woman. On others, you were able to lift one side of the couch one-handed and vacuum up the dust bunnies underneath it.

“I believe that blood transfusion, as well as your pregnancy greatly accelerated the effects, but no, this isn’t an isolated incident.” Dr. Baker shook her head. “Your DNA has mutated.”

“Are you serious?” you nearly choked out. She nodded. Dr. Baker never joked.

“By my calculations, this process started before you conceived. Over the course of the past year, or more,” she explained. “Do you understand what this means?”

“Y-Yes, I think so,” you said. Your hand squeezed over Ben’s; it was the hand that carried the weight of your gold wedding bands. A lump of emotion rose in your throat. “It means…I’m going to heal from injuries quicker than normal. And…I’m not going to age like a normal person.”

“That’s likely correct,” she replied.

That news fell in the room like a stone. You shared a wide-eyed look with Ben. Neither of you knew quite what to think just yet. Even though he was trying to maintain an even-keel expression, you could see his eyes were beginning to brighten with hope. Yours were too…though you were still confused.

“How the hell is this possible?” you asked. “I mean, Ben gave me his blood for a transfusion. But like you said, that was one time, two years ago now. And you said the pregnancy accelerated this, but that’s not how it started…”

Dr. Baker actually smiled. You didn’t like the wry turn of her lips. She crossed her legs where she sat at her desk and tapped her clipboard with her pen.

“How often would you say you two have sex?” she asked.

That was certainly not where you thought this conversation was going. You couldn’t help but blush.

“How is that even remotely relevant?” you asked.

You glanced at your husband, who merely gave you one of his smug smirks, while his thumb stroked your side. Fucking typical.

“Once a week?” the doctor prompted.

Your face heated up further, and you had to cover your mouth with a hand. Your sex life wasn’t quite as…vivacious as it had been since before you’d gotten pregnant, but it was still a good one, even with your growing size. Ben was nothing if not creative.

And you were still newlyweds, after all.

“Assume we’re doing a healthy amount of fucking, doc,” Ben remarked.

You gasped and hit his thigh, and finally covered your whole face in thorough embarrassment. He just smirked and took your hand so you couldn’t hide. It amused him that you still got like this.

He then pressed a kiss to the back of your fingers.

You sighed and held his hand back. I chose this man. Remember that.

“Again, what does that have to with this?” you asked, your voice a bit higher.

Dr. Baker’s lips flickered at another one of those smiles. “Well, how often did you use condoms over the past two years?”

You and Ben both snorted in response.

“He’s morally opposed to them, doctor,” you said dryly.

She nodded. “I assumed as much.”

Once again, Ben smirked, but Dr. Baker plowed ahead.

“Let me explain it this way,” she said. “Think of how HIV spreads sexually. The infected DNA is transmitted, and it eventually hits the partner’s bloodstream, affecting the entire body. What we have here is a similar case…if for the fact that this was a gradual effect, over the course of several months.”

Ben blinked, and a frown also tugged down his brows.

“Are you saying that I gave her my superpowers…like an STD?” he asked.

Your eyes became as wide as saucers.

Holy shit! you thought, and another one occurred to you. If this all started from the first time you and Ben ever had sex…then that was over two years of being dosed with literal super sperm.

“Not quite,” Dr. Baker said to him. “Just the essence of what sets your DNA apart, even from other supes.”

“Right. Because how the hell hasn’t this happened to anyone else who’s normal?” you asked. “What makes Ben different?”

Dr. Baker finally set down her pen. She folded her hands in her lap to address you with a patience that you didn’t often see from her.

“Remember, the serum he received was still a prototype,” she said. “Vought continued to refine the recipe after the ‘Soldier Boy’ project was successful. For example, the way his cells regenerate is one of those factors that needed to be weeded out, if Compound V was to be a successful product in the long-term.”

You nodded slowly, as that made sense to you. If every supe suddenly lived over a hundred years, it would make it pretty hard to secretly inject that shit into newborns. They had to package it in a more insidious way.

“This is an unpredictable outcome of your exposure to his unique genetic makeup,” Dr. Baker continued, “and there may very well be more to come in the future.”

You weren’t sure how to take that potentially foreboding news, but on the other hand…

“Oh my God! I’m going to live to be a hundred,” you said, holding tighter onto Ben as shock began to make you tremble. His grip was firm and steadying in response. And yet, his face betrayed how he was trying to process this as well.

“Likely much longer than that,” Dr. Baker said, shocking you even further. And she reminded, “Your cells aren’t regenerating at quite the same rate as his…but it is close.”

Again, holy fucking shit.

You let out a halting breath, and you looked up at Ben, a smile growing across your face. You reached up a hand for his bearded cheek. He looked down on you with his usual stoicism, but it was merely a front. You saw through to the true emotions shining in his eyes.

“Well, looks like you’re stuck with me, baby,” you said, even as your own eyes stung with tears. Your heart felt full to the brim, and even overflowing. If this was what it took to be with your husband, then altering your genetics was a price you were willing to pay…at least in this way.

Though you gave him a more teasing smile. “You’re not gonna be able to welch out of that ‘til death do us part thing. So cancel the caravan of blow and strippers.”

Ben chuckled deeply. He held your hand and stroked the inside of your wrist. For a moment, he just looked down at your face. It had become a bit more rounded with your pregnancy—thighs and arms (and ass) thicker too. And to him, you were still perfectly his.

“Fine by me. You’ve got something they don’t, anyway,” he said. He remembered the same words he’d said to you just a year ago, in the bed he still shared with you.

Your eyes gleamed with amusement, and so much more. You played along.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” you asked.

He smirked. “You’ve got a supe STD.”

Your eyes widened at his audacity, but you burst out laughing and hit his shoulder.

“Yeah, from you,” you quipped back. “I should’ve known you were carrying something.”

The two of you didn’t know it, but that was when Dr. Baker smiled to herself. She decided then to leave the room, giving you some privacy as Ben laughed and framed your face with his hands.

His thumbs brushed against your cheeks, catching stray tears as they fell. You bit your lip as your glassy eyes met his once more. Ben became more serious as he let out a sigh.

“It’s not gonna be easy,” he reminded you. “Your family, your friends…they’re going to change, and you’re going to stay the same.”

Your excitement dimmed as that realization hit you. Your hands clenched in his shirt, over his chest. You thought about your mom, your sister, Yvette and Devon, Annie and Hughie and the rest of the team (even Butcher, you would miss).

“Yeah…that part’s not gonna be fun,” you said with a heavy, tremulous sigh. Your heart clenched at the very thought of them growing old, leaving you behind.

But your gaze eventually drew back up to him. You wondered then, not for the first time, how it must’ve been for him. For his parents to grow old and pass on long before him. For childhood friends, old lovers…

“Do you know what I worried about when we got married?” you asked.

Ben’s hands traveled down from your face, down your arms, to finally rest at your waist and thigh. He stared back at you expectantly.

“When you first told me you loved me, you said you were holding back the truth. Because you thought that one day, you’d be alone again,” you said, stroking his chest. “That honestly broke my heart. And it made me wonder if I was selfish to be with you anyway.”

Ben frowned, but you shook your head before he could respond.

“I told myself that after the baby was born, I’d go to Dr. Baker and ask her to find a way to make this happen,” you said. Another smile grew across your face. “But guess what? We figured it out all on our own, super stud.”

Ben smiled then, huffing in amusement as he thumbed at your cheek. You couldn’t really understand the full force of his relief. It might’ve threatened to buckle him into a seat, if he had been standing.

But now, he struggled with the warmth in his chest that for once, had nothing to do with his powers. He moved in to tug you into his arms, and he let out a long breath through his nose.

You couldn’t see how his eyes closed, but you felt his lips press against your forehead. You held him close. Or as closely as you could with your belly getting in between.

You rubbed his back and rested against his chest, hearing the calming, steady sound of his heart beating under your ear.

“And at this rate, I might even live longer than you,” you teased. “After all, you got a head start. Compared to you, I’m still a hot young thing.”

Ben snorted and shook his head. “All right. Now you’re pushing it.”

You smirked into his chest.

“I’ll have to figure out where you rent those caravans.”

“For fuck’s sake,” he muttered. At the sound of your giggle, he couldn’t help but smile.

He still swatted you on the ass though.

A couple more months later…

He smelled like cigar smoke. For which you had no doubt, Ben had been puffing away with Frank and M.M. outside the hospital.

The team of doctors (led by Dr. Baker) had finally left you alone with your husband, allowing you to take your first relaxed breath of the day.

“Your mom and your sister are waiting. Blondie and the others are out there too,” he said quietly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “My girl’s got a whole possy of bitches.”

You assumed he meant Annie and the rest of the team.

You shot him a look, but you were careful not to disturb the sleeping newborn resting on your chest, in the crook of your arm.

“They’re my friends, babe,” you whispered. “And they’re your friends now too, you just don’t want to admit it.”

Ben didn’t acknowledge that, but he laid a hand on your shoulder as he sat down on the edge of your hospital bed.

“How’re you doin’, sweetheart?” he asked. “Got everything you need?”

He’d become even more protective, but also very sweet to you in these past several months. More so than you’d thought him capable of, but it warmed you every time, when you considered how rough, how stoic, and how damn-near emotionally repressed he was not so very long ago.

It seemed that fatherhood was beginning to soften him, even before he began. You quirked a smile at the thought, and at his question.

“Imagine pushing a super melon out of your dick. That’s how I’m doing,” you said, tired but still cheeky as ever.

He snorted a bit loudly at that, and you shushed him, as if it wasn’t your fault he was laughing. He expected nothing less from you.

“But I’m okay,” you answered his second question. “All I need right now is you.”

Ben considered you for a moment, a slightly softer smile curving his lips, and he nodded.

“All right,” he said.

Your daughter woke and began to squirm in your arms, prompting Ben to look down at the bundle wrapped in a soft pink blanket. Gently as possible, he brushed the tuft of downy brown hair on her head. His hand shook ever so slightly, touching her small cheek.

How can this little thing be mine? he wondered. His lips pressed into a firm line.

There was a thought, deep and thrumming inside him, that he didn’t deserve this. That just a couple of years ago, he had nothing to lose.

And now, his entire world was in this room. He’d never admit it, but it was a terrifying thought, for a man who’d had everything and nothing.

You unknowingly stopped the path of his thoughts when you raised a warm hand to his cheek. It earned his attention, and he grabbed your hand to keep it there.

You smiled up at Ben with weariness in your eyes. The super strength had drained out of you a few moments after the umbilical cord was cut, which had made for a less painful labor than you anticipated. But it had also been a long and uncomfortable eighteen hours.

“Wanna hold her for a while?” you asked.

The offer caught him off guard. His brows drew together, but he very carefully took his daughter from you, into his arms. Despite your temporary abilities throughout your pregnancy, he didn’t know if she already had his strength, or if it was something she’d grow into. Ben didn’t want to take any chances.

As he looked down at a small face that already had some of his features, he inhaled a faltering breath.

It was the first time you ever saw true tears in his eyes, as one managed to draw a path down his cheek. You smiled, and the pair of rings on your left hand caught the lamplight as you rested your hand on your chest.

Ben held the bundle close in the crook of his arm. One of the baby’s hands was free, and he tickled his finger in her palm. She grasped it on reflex, opening her mouth on a yawn. Despite his red and shining eyes, he smiled, especially when she reached up for a strand of his hair with small, grabby fingers.

He let her get a hold of it, smirking when she gave it a little tug. Just hours old, and his girl was already demanding his attention. He didn’t know if newborns were able to do that this early, or if it was her blood that made her special.

Either way, he knew then that she was going to be a handful. Just like you.

Ben glanced over and found you watching him with soft amusement. He looked back down at his daughter and told her the obvious.

“You know, you’re blessed to have my genes, baby girl,” he said. It elicited a knowing scoff out of you. However, his smirk softened. “But you’re also lucky as hell to have your mom.”

Ben looked back at you, and there was the predictable well of tears forming in your eyes.

“She’s the best damn woman you’re ever gonna meet,” he said.

He knew then that what he said to you before was right. If he had to go back to 1984, or even 1944, he’d do it all exactly the same.

It all worked out pretty damn well, from where he was standing.

AN: I’m not crying, you’re crying. 🥹😭

I sincerely hope you enjoyed “Strong as Blood.” I know I said I was going to be done with these two for a hot minute while I concentrate on “Smoke Eater” (Firefighter!Dean Winchester x Reader - series coming soon).

But now that we’re here, I have another one-shot idea I’d like to sketch out in the near future…

Would you guys want to read about their family dynamic? Maybe fast-forward a couple years to the “terrible twos” stage with their first child.

Along with some cameos from the Annie, Hughie, M.M. and the rest of the team. Maybe even Marie and Louisa, Grandpa George, and the insufferable Aunt Trina?

Let me know in the comments, or just what you thought of Part 2! 😘

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