#Jensen Ackles x Female!Reader Fluff

[wayward-dreamer]

Coffee & Chaos - Masterlist

Pairing: Producer!Jensen x Fem!Screenwriter!Reader

Summary: Y/N starts working at Chaos Machine Productions, finding joy in the work and fitting in instantly. She knows she could really thrive in the company, as long as she doesn’t fall for her boss, the executive producer and founder, along the way. Little does she know he’s trying to suppress his feelings, for the sake of professionalism, too.

Warnings: Swearing, slight angst, bit of jealousy, mostly fluff, smut. (Full warnings will be added to individual parts).

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

This mini-series is complete!

[maybankswifey]

— ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ caught in the act ◞ dean winchester !

◟ ☆ ݁ ⋆ ꒱ dean covering you with his leather jacket whenever sam accidentally catches y’all in the front seat of the impala.￨female reader x dean winchester . mild language, smut smut smut, unprotected sex, creampie, riding, public sex?? kinda (you’re in a car but still) !

authors note, thought of this today and i needed to write something for it ugh

taglist, @heartsforvin @priestsgf @cosmicanakin @1-800-whitemanswhore @summerbells (lmk if you wanna be added!)

you’ve been waiting all week long to get some alone time with dean, you’ve held out urges and been on a good enough behavior, but between this case taking so long to finish along with sam bursting through yours and dean’s motel room unannounced you’ve been slowly loosing your mind,

the ache between your thighs only seemed to grow and grow the more time you’ve spent around him, and dean didn’t help that either, with his smug smirks and lingering touches, all of it combined caused you to develop somewhat of a raging attitude towards both winchester brothers,

poor sam did try to talk to you, but you blew him off pretty harshly, which in all fairness to him, he didn’t understand why you were so on edge, but nonetheless he pretty much chalked it up to it being that time of the month for you and didn’t bother mentioning it further,

meanwhile dean on the other hand was revealing in the torture, he loved watching the way your eyes would trail down his body whenever he was cleaning his weapons, or the way your thighs would clench whenever his hands would grip the steering wheel of his impala, he especially loved the subtle moans and whimpers you’d let out whenever his hand got dangerously close to your sopping cunt

and although he didn’t seem like it, dean was slowly going crazy as he hadn’t touched you in nearly a week. see from the moment you and dean had met, you’ve been each others release, first starting off as friends with benefits before slowly developing into a romantic relationship, but regardless of the title, the point is that ever since you’ve met, you’ve never spent more than a couple days without touching one another, so this week had been more than harsh on the both of you.

you’ve tried getting yourself off in the shower or whenever you were left alone in the hotel room for whatever reason, but you couldn’t seem to get close enough to the edge, and the suspense of your ongoing stop and go for your release was evidently tearing you apart, so the moment that the three of you had stopped in the middle of the night at a diner - you decided that right now you were going to do what you’ve been looking forward to all week long

as dean pulls up the gravel driveway on the dingy 24 hour diner, he sighs shoving the gear shift to park, sam shifts from his place in the backseat, rubbing his eyes and letting out a tired yawn as he sits up

“where are we?” he mumbles, dean places his arm over the seat and turns to speak but you quickly cut him off

“outside of utah.” although you tried to hide the annoyed and frustrated tone, it slipped through nonetheless, and sam’s eyes widened slightly and he raised his hands up in defense,

“jeez, sorry.” he huffs, “i have to pee,” he says, his voice now softer than before, as he tried not to further annoy you

letting out a heavy sigh you open your door and step out, the sway of your hips as you turn and bend down to shove your seat forward to give him room to get out makes dean bring his hand over his jeans, cupping his cock through the materiel as to adjust himself, meanwhile sam wastes absolutely no time in hopping out and quickly making his way towards the building

as soon as sam’s out of your way you shove the seat back in his original place and hop in with a huff, closing the door behind you. once you’re back in the car you lean back against the seat and bring your hand to run through your hair as you sigh,

“damn baby, did you really have to be so short with sammy?” he asked, his usual smirk playing on the corner of his perfectly plump lips as he spoke

you shrugged, “he’s just been bugging me.”

“he’s been asleep this whole time.” dean laughed, and you threw your hands up, “okay, whatever!”

“you acting this way because you’re horny?” his words caught you off guard, definitely.

and as you turn to look at him, ready to tear him a new one for tasting you, your eyes softened as you take in his features, he looked so beautiful right here, his green eyes now dark and heavily clouded with lust, his freckles on full display as the rusty old street light shined down through his window and onto his face, and his lips, oh god his lips, so plump and soft looking, and before you could stop yourself you’re leaning over and pressing your lips to his harshly

dean’s initially caught off guard but manages to get situated pretty quickly, his hands moving to your waist and pulling you over and placing you on his lap, while yours glide up the sides of his face to his hair, your fingers tangling with the blonde roots, tugging and pulling on it softly

he felt so good, tasted so good, everything about him was intoxicating to you, he was like a drug and you were the addict, and you’ve been going through withdrawals all week

totally forgetting where you were for a second you pull back and cross your arms, fingers grasping onto the hems of your shirt, lifting it halfway before dean stopped you

“baby, we’re in public.” he breathes, his lips now covered in your smeared lipstick, and you just shrug, leaning forward some and placing your hand on his cheek

“i don’t care, i need you.” you whisper, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to his neck, right below his ear, “please.” dean chuckled lowly, “alright, but we’ve gotta be quick,”

“sammy’s gonna be back any-” before he could finish his sentence your lips were back on his, this kiss was different from the previous one you’ve just shared, this one was sloppy, needy and desperate, you’re pouring your all into this kiss, every faded orgasm, every frustrating cockblock from sam, every single emotion you’ve been feeling.

dean lifts his hips softly, causing his growing hard on to brush against your aching clit, the action causing you to whimper softly against his lips.

dean pulls back, “sensitive?”

“shut up and fuck me already.” you whine, wiggling your hips against his softly, dean chuckled, his hands moving to undo the buttons on your blouse, while yours are working to undo the buckle on his belt and zipper on his dark wash jeans

once all the buttons are undone dean wastes no time in tearing the two pieces of fabric apart from each other and shoving them down your arms, tossing the thin fabric to the floorboard, his smirk falters for a moment as he realizes your lack of bra, with his belt now unbuckled and his zipper now pulled down you look up, a smirk of your own finding it’s way on your glossy lips, “like it?”

“like it?, i love it.” he mumbles, reaching his hands up to grab a fistful of the flesh, kneeling it in his warm hands whilst leaning forward, and burying his face in your cleavage, his lips circling around one of your nipples while his thumb rubs the other,

“fuck, let me ride you,” you begged, dean looked up, your boob falling from his lips in a ‘pop’ sound

“yeah?” he quirked, “yeah.”

dean leant back, bringing his hand to his mouth, he spit a glob of spit onto his finger tips and lowered them down to his throbbing cock, spreading it around, lubricting it for you

you place your hand on his shoulder and use the other to slide your panties to the side, dean brings his cock up and slaps it on your clit a few times causing your breath to hitch

using his shoulder as leverage you lean up and place yourself directly over his cock, he brings his free hand to your waist as you slowly slide down on him

dean moans softly as his cock stretches you — “fuck,” he heaved, “almost forgot how tight this pussy was.”

throwing your head back you whine softly, slowly you begin to grind your hips against his, creating some sort of friction for the both of you as you try to get used to his size again

dean brings his hands to your hips, helping to guide you as you grind against him, his head falls back against the head rest while you lean forward with him, arms wrapped securely around his shoulders, “feels so good,” you whisper, fingers tugging softly on the ends of his hair

“bounce on me,” he breathes, and with that you’re sitting up, using his shoulders to steady yourself as you bring your feet to the leather seats, planting them down

“don’t let me fall,” you giggle, breathlessly, “never.” he quips

lifting your hips you slowly fall back on him, doing this a few more times until you’ve found a steady rhythm, “so good baby,” he praises, his hands on your hips, helping to guiding your movements

dean urges you to move faster, “atta girl, just like that.” he groans, his head moving to fall back but you’re quick to catch his cheek, guiding his lips to yours

“kiss me,” you moan, lips brushing against his

dean complies almost immediately — his lips pressing firmly against yours, mixed with teeth and tongue, neither of you cared if you seemed desperate, because well you were, having been touch starved of one another for a full week

you feel as his hands slide up your hips towards your tits, squeezing them roughly, while yours are tangled in his hair, tugging and pulling relentlessly

he pulls away, lowering his head to watch in awe as his cock glides in and out of you with ease, “doing so, mm—fuckin’ good for me, angel,”

“shit, you’re so deep.” you whine, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth as you used every bit of strength you had to lift your hips then slam them back down on him

dean must’ve noticed as you tiring out since your movements became sloppier, since he brings both hands to your waist to lift you and guide you back down

your eyes roll back as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, as this new angle of his has his tip hitting that soft spot deep inside of you,

you’re brought closer to your high as his swollen tip continues to hit your g-spot relentlessly, and you can’t help but hold onto him for dear life,

“fuck,” you whine, arms wrapping around his shoulder as you lean forward, burying your face in his neck, “gonna cum, oh, i’m gonna cum,”

“yea?” he presses, while you just nod, “cum on my cock,” he breathes, “atta girl, come on.” he encourages, his hand going to grip a fistful of your ass

your legs start to shake against him and you cry out as your orgasm hits you, “that’s it,” he coos, his hand coming to rub against your hair, helping to calm you as your body shook whilst still guiding your hips down onto his,

you’re aching between your thighs now but you’re still so desperate for him, his cock twitches inside of you, signaling that he’s close, “fill me up,” you breathe, “cum in me, baby.”

“please,” you whimper, and that was the end of it for him, he stops your movements all together, holding you down as white spurts of hot cum shoot up into you as he lowers his head back against the seat, letting out a raspy groan, “fuck,”

you’re both breathing heavily as you try to bring yourselves down from your highs, leaning up some you bring your hand to his face, lifting his chin and leaning forward, kissing him softly, “did so good for me,” he whispered, his words muffled by your swollen lips

“did so fuckin’ good.” he repeated, “mm, i love you.”

“i love-”

suddenly the passenger side door swings open, a screeching sound from you follows and suddenly dean’s snapped out of his post orgasm haze and leans forward, still buried inside of you and grabs the first thing he can find,

his hands grasp his brown leather jacket and he moves to wrap it around you, attempting to shield you from his younger brothers eyes, you flushed with embarrassment just bury your face in his shoulder

“close the door!”

within seconds the passenger door slams shut, the impact of the slam causing the whole car to shake, leaning up your eyes lock with his

“no way that just happened.” you breathed, an embarrassed smile creeping up your face as you stare back at dean

[waynes-multiverse]

Ok hear me out. I got this idea after the episode of Dean getting his "virginity" back and hooking up with the porn star when he's digging through her dresser and finds the DVD of her ANYWAY

Best friend Dean who's been pining after you for sooo long but doesn't want to fuck it up and lose you. You're hanging out when you ask him to go grab something from your room and he's digging through your drawers looking and accidentally comes across some lingerie and now it's days later and he's so hot and bothered cuz he can't think of anything else (the boy has a serious panty kink lets be honest) and you catch him in your room going through your drawers again and OH

A/N: As I warned y'all, this is a longer DD because, well, the prompt was long, so it's not really my fault. All that backstory took on a life of its own, but I think no one will be mad about it 😅 Again, I had tons of fun with this one! You'll see 🤣

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Warnings: +18/NSWF, a ridiculous heat wave, friends to lovers (Wayne's Version), crack, a panty kink, some sneaky fluff, and some hot lovin' aka smut (oral f & face sitting)

Word Count: 4.5k (whoops)

Main Masterlist || Dirty Drabbles

Cruel Summer

“You open the beaches on the 4th of July, it’s like ringing the dinner bell for Christ’s sake…”

As Jaws flickered across the screen in the Dean Cave, the green-eyed hunter adjusted himself in his seat. Usually, he had perfect control over himself and his feelings for you.

But on some days – like today – when you sat right next to him on the couch in nothing but a loose t-shirt and some short sweatpants, fanning yourself with an old magazine of Busty Asian Beauties as beads of salty sweat collected on your forehead and trickled down your neck, you made it hard for him.

“God, I’m so hot,” you sighed exhaustively and sunk further into the couch cushions, lifting your shirt from your sticky skin to let some cool air to your boobs as a heat wave ravaged through Kansas.

Painfully hard.

“Dean?” You pouted with your best puppy dog look at your best friend.

“Huh?” Dean was in trance, watching you more than the movie, always on the edge of getting caught one of these days.

“We’re out of Sour Patch Kids. I have more in my nightstand. Can you get them for me please?” you asked sweetly. “I don’t wanna move. I might actually die from heat exhaustion.”

Dean sighed and wordlessly rose from his seat. He knew you always kept an array of salty and sweet midnight snacks in your room in case you got hungry and didn’t want to wander into the kitchen in the middle of the night.

Moreover, he was grateful for the break. God knows he couldn’t stand to be around you any longer, or he would’ve been too tempted to rip your clothes off and really make you sweat.

I’ll show her a damn heat exhaustion, he thought with a scoff.

Hastily grabbing the desired snack, his green eyes then caught something red and lacy sticking out from the first drawer of your dresser. The hunter knew the decent and honest thing would’ve been to just keep moving and leave your godforsaken room.

Turn around, as Bonnie Tyler sang. But for some reason, his bright eyes couldn’t resist, his curiosity overtaking him.

Dean opened the drawer with the intention to push the naughty little clothing item back into its place and out of sight. Get rid of the temptation, so to speak. It sounded like the perfect loophole. He got to touch it and look at it, but for a very heroic and noble reason – not because he was a creepy perv, violating his best friend’s privacy.

On some level, Dean knew he’d never stand a chance with you. He wasn’t good enough. He had so much baggage all his suitcases wouldn’t even fit into the bunker.

A damn touch of a pair of panties you weren’t even wearing was all he would ever get from you.

But then his fingers touched the soft and see-through material, his pads tracing every delicate scarlet thread with precision and care. It was game over for him then and there, cursing himself internally for not resisting harder as his cock twitched joyfully in his jeans.

Dean had laid his eyes on you the second you strolled with swinging hips into that diner in Wichita for your very first case together, a werewolf hunt six years ago. And he had managed to get by without an incident for years since then, even when you moved into the bunker, being rather proud of that achievement. He never wanted to lose you as a friend and didn’t dare to cross a line. Ever.

Recently, though, it became more difficult to keep his distance and not let his thoughts wander. His feelings were magma that slowly had filled a volcano over the years. Each time you did something sexy or sweet or goofy or smart, another drop was added. And now, that damn fire mountain was overdue for an eruption – no thanks to that stupid heat wave.

“Thanks,” you said absentmindedly as the hunter handed you the candy but didn’t settle back down. Instead, he stood behind the sofa and leaned his hands on the backrest.

What you didn’t know, though, was that Dean was sporting quite the boner and wouldn’t dare to come into your line of view. He was surprised he could even walk up straight and not like a caveman early in the evolution.

A hunter gathering panties.

“I’m gonna hit the hay,” he told you with a somber clear of his throat. As the fan carried a breeze of your perfume to his nose, his grip tightened on the couch.

You turned in your seat and looked over your shoulder at him, raising a surprised brow. “Already? But the movie’s not over.”

“Yeah, I’m beat,” he excused and tried his best not to look strained. He forced a tight smile to his lips while his little dude celebrated Spring Break in his jeans. “‘Sides, we’ve seen Jaws like a million times now, Y/N.”

It was a cherished summer tradition between the two of you, watching it every 4th of July.

“I guess so.” You shrugged disappointedly, watching your best friend retreat to his room. Truth was, you loved spending time with Dean and held those little traditions close to your heart.

The Winchesters were your family, the only one you ever had. And while some families wore matching pajamas on Christmas morning, you watched the first two Die Hard movies. You would watch Dean’s favorite horror movies on Halloween. Sixteen Candles and High Fidelity on your birthday, Tombstone and The Great Escape on Dean’s, and some lame-ass foreign language documentaries that you both snored through on Sam’s.

Valentine’s Day was a dreaded non-holiday for all three of you, but for the past four years, someone would leave a box of chocolate in front of your door. The salted caramel ones would always be missing, and it always came with the same Forrest Gump quote:

I’m not a smart man, but I know what love is.

You knew the anonymous someone was Dean, and you knew he meant it as a joke. Still, you clung to those little traditions. They might seem silly and stupid to some, but to you, they were your lifeline in a world full of darkness.

So, you felt rather saddened Dean didn’t seem to honor them anymore. It wasn’t just Jaws, either. He’d been withdrawing from you for a while, and you didn’t understand why.

Unbeknownst to you, the green-eyed hunter had kept a lacy souvenir from your room.

Now, Dean had managed to avoid you for four days. Every night since his stealthy excursion, he would lie in his bed with your stolen panties in one hand and his throbbing length in the other, feeling goddamn pathetic for sinking so low.

It was probably so low that even his memory foam mattress would remember it.

With closed eyes, he then imagined how the perky globes of your ass would look like covered in crimson lace. How you would stretch out on his bed on all fours, with your ass high in the air and wiggling in front of him. How his fingers would push the wicked material aside to push into you, taking you deep and hard while you moaned his name.

As he ruined tissue after tissue, the guilt would wash over him as soon as he was done. Call it a post-nut epiphany.

Dean knew it was wrong to think those things. He knew he only made it harder for himself to ever look you into the eyes again. Hell, he barely could do it now, even though a part of him audaciously wondered what other treasures were hiding in that drawer of yours. And more pressingly, what ultimate wealth he would find beneath your clothes. If your lingerie was gold, he’d be a creepy-ass dragon sitting on it.

So, Dean tried to avoid you as best as possible. Mostly because, well…

“God, fuck me,” you groaned exhaustively and opened the refrigerator door, leaning against it as the refreshing cold hit you from behind. On top of that, you held a big bag of frozen peas to your sweaty chest. You already wore the bare minimum – some short denims and a white tank top, your hair up in a messy bun.

“I swear underboob sweat is the worst. Just be glad you don’t have tits,” you complained. “Guys, seriously, can we invest in an AC? This heat wave is killing me! This bunker is like one giant oven…”

You watched as Dean squirmed in his seat as he ate his cereal, looking as uncomfortable as you. Surely, the boys were suffering just as badly during those sweltering temperatures, already forgoing the usual flannels and opting for plain t-shirts instead. How they were still wearing jeans was beyond you. When you first moved in, you protested against Dean’s suggestion of Naked Tuesdays, but these days, you were actually giving it a second thought.

“Well, I’m gonna drive to Kansas City today and see if I can get us an AC. Apparently, they’re all sold out, but I figured maybe with a bit of flirting and some cleavage, I can still get us one,” you explained your plan with a bright smirk and wiggled your eyebrows. “What d’you guys think, huh?”

Dean then abruptly banged his fist on the table, spilling some milk from his bowl on the surface. “For God’s sake, Y/N!”

You frowned in confusion at his unexpected outburst. “What’s up with you? Are you having a heat stroke?”

“Flirting, really?!” the hunter barked, his brow shaped into a deeply furious v.

“What’s wrong with that? Double standard much? You do it all the time to get shit,” you countered and watched his jaw clench in anger.

“I do-... not,” he remarked snappily with a fierce finger drilling into the table, clearly lacking a good argument. Sam cleared his throat in agreement with you, but that only earned him a glare. “And Jesus fucking Christ, would it hurt you to put on some goddamn clothes? You’re not even wearing a bra!”

“Did you not hear my tits rant just now? Of course I’m not! ‘Sides, those boobs are gonna get you an AC, so be a little more grateful to them,” you retorted, annoyed with his attitude. You’d think of all the people in this world, Dean Winchester would understand. (And maybe even appreciate it.) “And how can you even tell, huh?”

“‘Cause science, Y/N! You’re literally cooling your tits! What did you think was gonna happen, huh? Nipples!” he vented outrageously. “This ain’t a strip club!”

“It’s 102 degrees, Dean!” you argued, throwing your arms up. “Look, if I could, I’d even go naked, alright? It’s fucking hot!”

“Oh, for crying out loud!” Dean shook his head and stormed out of the kitchen without any further comment.

Confused, you blinked at the younger Winchester. “What’s up with him?”

But Sam only shrugged, shaking his head. “Uhm, I don’t know,” he replied, although he could take an educated guess, suspecting his brother’s feelings for you as the culprit.

“Well, alright, I’m going to Kansas City,” you decided without wasting another thought on the older Winchester’s strange behavior. “Text me if you guys need something. I can pick it up on my way home.”

Dean knew he was in deep trouble as his bow legs bolted down the bunker’s hallways. He tried so hard to keep it together, but when he saw you, half-naked and panting in front of the fridge, he quite literally lost his coolness in this goddamn heat wave.

The green-eyed hunter understood a thing or two about torture, but this was the worst of all. He’d rather have a demon repeatedly peel off his skin in hellfire than endure a day more of this fucking madness.

If the temperatures didn’t drop soon, it would be a cruel summer ahead of him.

As Dean heard the door to the garage close, he knew you’d left for your trip and exhaled a deep sigh of relief. At least he’d get a few hours of peace.

With the best intentions, he strolled to his bedroom, but as he passed your room on his way, he found the door ajar. Whatever good motives he had up until this point, went quickly out the window right then.

His hand twitched at the thought of more riches, worse than any trigger finger and competing with a California earthquake, and well, so did the dick in his jeans. It was an addiction at this point, an obsession he couldn’t resist nor get rid off. The fact that it was forbidden and wrong only made it even more appealing. The apple in the garden of Eden.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t an anonymous support group for this kind of sickness.

As unbearable shame and guilt collected in his stomach like rainwater in the gutter, his eager hands rummaged through your dresser drawer. There was purple lace and black satin, navy G-strings and white Brazilians. It was never ending, and the hunter couldn’t stop as he picked up each item and let his fantasies roam wild.

God, the things he wanted to do to you were as colorful as your rainbow full of underwear.

“Dean?!”

The green-eyed hunter froze in his place, a white lace panty still bunched up in his large palm. The hair in the back of his neck stood up in shock, a part of him refusing to turn around at the sound of your voice. He was caught red-handed, and he knew it.

“What are you doing in my room?” you prompted, suspiciously cocking an eyebrow. It looked fairly obvious what your best friend was up to, but you didn’t want to accuse him right away, giving him the benefit of the doubt.

Frankly, it was quite unbelievable.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Dean replied and swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he held up his hands like a criminal during an arrest, the evidence still in his grasp.

“Well, it looks like you’re snooping through my lingerie,” you pointed out bluntly.

Dean nodded, guilt-ridden and reluctant. “I can explain.”

“Good,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m waiting…”

“Right, uhm…”

“Oh, before you scramble for an answer, you should know, though, that I’m aware a pair of red lace panties is missing, and I know the washer didn’t eat them,” you said and raised an expectant brow.

You had a feeling your pervy best friend was behind the mystery of the missing item. Now you knew for sure.

“Man, I always knew you were a kinky son of a bitch, but this is a new level, Dean,” you scolded.

Dean’s gaze dropped to the floor in shame, scratching the nape of his neck. “Look, uhm, there’s no good excuse. I know I fucked up here. I’ll sleep in a motel tonight until I find my own place. You can stay here with Sam, alright? I’ll move out and won’t bother you anymore.”

As he tried to brush past you, you blocked his exit and grabbed his arm. “So, you’re gonna leave? Just like that?”

“What other choice do I have? I don’t wanna make you more uncomfortable,” he stated without glancing at you once. He couldn’t bring himself to look into your eyes and see the disappointment and disgust there. “I know what I did was wrong.”

“Oh, so wrong,” you agreed. “I just figured you wouldn’t run away like a coward and take your punishment like a man, you know? Aren’t you at all curious what I’m wearing right now?”

That was when Dean’s juniper eyes slowly wandered to you and caught your gaze for the first time. You smirked as his breathing became heavy and his look darkened and filled with lust. It seemed like he wanted to rip your clothes off with his goddamn bare teeth like a wild animal.

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or if I’m dreaming,” he admitted, his deep voice part harsh swallow and part nervous chuckle.

“Neither,” you said, biting your bottom lip.

Carefully, you leaned closer, your hands reaching up to cup his scruffy cheeks. Noses nuzzled as your lips ghosted against his with a daring grin. You wouldn’t go further; it was up to Dean to make that final decision.

And then, as no more than a mere second ticked by on the clock, the hunter crashed his lips against yours in a kiss so scorching it made the current heat wave look like an ice age. If you thought you were hot before, now it felt like you were burning in a wildfire.

Dean roughly pushed you against the door, his kiss all teeth and tongue in an uncontrollable frenzy. His dick was hard and thick, straining against his jeans and rubbing along your thigh. Pantingly, you gasped for air and grabbed his hand, guiding it down your body and into your shorts.

“Feel that?” you asked mischievously as his fingers dug through your soaked folds and collected the arousal he caused. A wanton growl left his plush lips. “All for you, baby. You’ve been a bad boy, haven’t you?”

“Shit, yeah, so bad…” Dean rasped huskily against your throat as he worshipped his path down your body, forcing your shirt up till his wet tongue rolled over your pert and still cold nipple.

“Gonna make it up to me, huh? Show me how sorry you are?” you prompted, your fingers raking through his sandy blond and soft hair, eliciting a groan from him every time you tugged a little harder.

Teeth pinched your skin, tongue cherished your taste, and lips left your throat bruised. It was equal parts hot, sweaty, messy, naughty, dirty, and sticky as your bodies rutted against one another, looking for dire release.

With swollen and plumper than before lips, he came back up for air and found your eyes. He kissed you with heated passion once more as if he couldn’t resist to touch you over and over again. He had to restrain himself to be able to speak.

“So, uhm, you sure about this?” Dean asked between labored breaths with an insecure gleam in his green eyes. “‘Cause if we go further, I don’t think I can stop. And I don’t mean just this time but ever… If you want this to be a one time thing, you gotta tell me, sweetheart, so I can mentally prepare myself. I mean, I’ll take what I can get, you know? Not that I care either way… Well, that’s not true. I do care. A lot… But, you know, you’re you, and I’m me, so I’m not delusional. I know there’s no way you would–”

You interrupted his babbling with a kiss, causing the hunter to lose his words. You looked deeply into his eyes and offered him a small smile of comfort.

“Dean, listen to me, okay? ‘Cause this is very important,” you urged, your hands gripping his shirt tightly.

He nodded, gulping anxiously. “O-Okay.”

“You’re incredible,” you said and watched him inhale sharply at your words, blinking at you in disbelief. “Absolutely fucking bonkers incredible. You’re right – you’re you. And thank God you are, because you’re the best, funniest, smartest, kindest, and goddamn hottest man I’ve ever met. I’m tired of you not seeing that. As my boyfriend, I really need to you to see that, alright?”

As Dean pensively took in your words, his brow began to furrow. “Boyfriend?”

The corners of your mouth rose to a beam. “Yeah, boyfriend,” you confirmed. “That’s what you want, right? ‘Cause I’d really like that, too.”

“Uh, yeah, yeah… That’s what I want.” Dean nodded eagerly before another swallow followed. “I mean, among other things…”

You bit your lip, smirking. “What other things?”

“Well, uhm…”

Dean didn’t finish his sentence, his lips impatiently claiming yours instead. He pressed you hungrily back against the door, massive hands sliding down your sides till they hooked into the hem of your denim shorts and ripped them down to your ankles, leaving you only covered in teal lace. He growled shamelessly at the sight, his thick digits eagerly diving inside.

“Wanna be inside you,” he groaned into your ear, thumbing furiously at your clit. “Every hour of every day…”

“We can do that,” you agreed with a giggle, your arms locking around his neck, fingers carding through his hair in the back.

“Wanna feel your mouth around my–” The last word was muffled as he ravaged your neck, but you understood where he was going with this.

“You can do that,” you said with a smile.

“And fuck, I want you to ride my face,” he declared. That demand left you speechless, making even Dean stop for a minute and look at you. “Too far?”

You shook your head and smirked. “I can do that.”

Before Dean’s mind could fathom your words, you shoved him onto the bed, his back hitting the mattress. When you stood before him, slotted between his muscular legs, his gaze trailed up and down your body, memorizing every beautiful curve. As your fingers curled into the waistband of your panties, however, the hunter stopped you.

“Leave ‘em on, sweetheart. Don’t you dare take those off,” he told you, his hands rapaciously reaching out to you.

You played with the hem of your top and smirked, your tongue licking over your lips. “What about this? On or off?”

“Off,” he shot back faster than a bullet leaving a barrel.

“You first,” you demanded and grinned. “Remember, this is still your punishment.”

“God, I love getting punished,” Dean mumbled and slipped out of his shirt. He then swiftly shimmied out of his jeans, discarding each item carelessly around the room.

He then took a deep breath as he tugged the waistband of his boxers, his erection already fighting its way out. “Well, here goes nothing,” the hunter said and pulled his underwear down.

You tilted your head to see his hard cock from a better angle as it sprang against his stomach. Your lips parted in anticipation, wondering what he’d taste like on your tongue and how deep you’d be able to take him. You guessed there’d be a struggle ahead, considering how huge and wide he was.

“Oh, I would not call that monster nothing,” you commented with a scoff, your pussy throbbing with need. “Explains all that BDE.”

Dean blushed. It was cute to watch. “Thank you.”

Giggling, you removed your shirt and tossed it at his face, blinding him for a second. You used that momentum to slide onto the bed and straddle his torso. As his eyes finally found you again, he almost choked on his spit when he gazed up at your perfect tits above him. A primal grunt escaped his throat.

With a mesmerized sparkle in his eyes, his hands trailed up your body and cupped your breasts, massaging them roughly as your panties grew damper by the minute. He then pulled you down to his lips and kissed you breathless before he left them with a boyish smirk on his freckled face.

“Hop on, sweetheart.”

And as if his words hadn’t been enough motivation, his hands wandered to palm your ass and hauled you closer to his mouth. He was an impatient one – or maybe he’d waited years for this and was finally tired of it.

Your knees sunk into the mattress on either side of his stubborn head. His fingers dented your flesh as they grabbed onto your thighs. Yours held onto the headboard for support. You tried not to look down, because then you’d see his big lopsided and full of excitement grin.

The same one he had when you found a diner in Kentucky that advertised the biggest burger in America (it wasn’t). The same one he had when he thought he had run into a member of Metallica at a gas station outside of Phoenix (he didn’t). The same one he had when you and Sam gifted him his own beer brewing station for his last birthday (which tasted horrible, but neither you nor Sam had the heart to tell him).

And now, he had that same grin when he was about to be with you.

As your pussy dripped above him, Dean couldn’t hold back his lewd groans any longer. You didn’t even have to lower yourself; he just dragged you down onto his face all to eagerly. His fingers swiped your panties to the side, and before you could even adjust your grip on the bedpost, his tongue darted into your soaked channel as deeply as he could and sucked you goddamn dry.

With several whimpers, you clenched around his wet muscle. If you were water in the desert, he was parched and drinking to survive.

His nose was buried in your folds, rubbing deliciously against your clit as he lapped your pussy in a vicious attack that left you squirming and moaning to a pornographic degree above him. Because Dean was just that – pure porn.

Instinctively and irresistibly, you ground your cunt against him, the vibrations of his keen groans against your sensitive flesh rocking you to the edge of your climax. He ate you out and devoured you like that damn gigantic burger in Kentucky. And as you dared to blink down and watch him in action, he had the audacity to devilishly smirk up at you with the crinkles around his green eyes alone, gauging your every reaction to his touches as if you were a goddamn movie on a silver screen.

You trembled and quivered and screamed as your orgasm electrified every molecule in your body. You white-knuckled the wood in your grip, your body only held up by Dean’s strong arms because God knows your weak legs were useless now.

As wave after wave washed over you, Dean drank every drop of yours, his tongue never getting enough of your taste. The sounds that filled the room were carnal and obscene.

“Fuck, Dean,” you sighed blissfully and lifted off his face and captured his swollen and red lips in a grateful kiss, your palms finding purchase on his broad shoulders. Your drenched and sensitive cunt settled on his thighs as an egregiously large erection poked your belly and tempted you further.

Dean smirked up at you, all satisfied and confident with his achievement. “I think we have a slight problem, though.”

Your brow knitted, your heart tightening with anxiety. Had you been as disappointing as the burger, beer, and that fake Metallica band member?

But Dean only grinned teasingly at your confused face. “There’s no way I learned my lesson here.”

You snorted and sought out his lips, the kiss giving you a taste of yourself. “We’ll work on that. I might have to nickname you Jaws after this,” you joked.

“Can’t wait for you to explain that one to Sammy.” Dean snorted, chuckling. “Now, how about you hop on again, but this time a little further south, huh?” he proposed with a wiggle of his eyebrows and a suggestive twitch of his cock for emphasis.

You giggled with a few nods. “I can do that.”

Was it worth the words? 😝

For all you newcomers and as a general reminder, Dirty Drabbles are always open. I still have quite a few left, but you're welcome to send more in, and we'll add it to the collection at some point 😎🔥

PUT YOUR DIRTY THOUGHTS HERE

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Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey @deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies @agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @imsapphine @globetrotter28 @mxltifxnd0m @lacilou

[zepskies]

Down to the Crust

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: You’ve set out on a very specific mission for Dean. The problem is, you now have ulterior motives for your (formerly) pure love of baking.

Request: Since reading your imagine, "Dean Gives You an Impossible Choice," I have not been able to shake it, one point specifically. I was wondering if I could request a fic where the reader is learning to bake pies for Dean. She's best friends with the boys, but she and Dean have undisclosed feelings for each other…

AN: You guys know I love baking shenanigans lol. This one is set at a particular time during season 14…

Song Inspo: “Joy” by Blackstreet

Word Count: 2.6K

Tags/Warnings: Flangst, hurt/comfort, hint of spice~

No, no, no, no, NO!

You did your best to scoop out the salt you’d just poured into the flour.

You can’t really be this dumb, you berated yourself. How could you confuse one white powdery thing for another? Salt vs. sugar—it wasn’t that hard!

You shook your head in simmering frustration. You decided to just dump the whole contents of the bowl, salty flour and all, into the garbage. You’d have to start again…for the third time now. 

Frankly, this was getting ridiculous. You could make cookies, brownies, even cupcakes (with homemade buttercream).

How hard could a pie really be?

Maybe it was the telltale tremble of nerves in your hands.

Maybe it was because you had an ulterior motive for doing this, besides your formerly pure love of baking.

Maybe because this promised dessert was for one pie-loving glutton who was set to come upstairs from the garage any minute. Or at least, whenever Dean’s stomach finally called him back to the kitchen.

Though recently, he hadn’t been all that hungry. He’d denied your friendly offer of a snack earlier (since when did he turn down taquitos?), and he’d barely touched the pizza you guys had for dinner yesterday. (One slice? The man could eat half a pizza in one sitting. To your knowledge, there wasn’t a pie he didn’t like.)

Dean hid it well, but he wasn’t on his game. You knew why, of course, but…

You sighed and measured out the last of your flour for a fresh try. If you messed this one up, you’d literally have to wash your hands of this mission. And yes, it had become mission fucking impossible, as far as you were concerned.

Once the flour was safely mixed with a cup of sugar, you cut up some chilled butter to create the pastry dough. You followed the instructions in the recipe even more carefully this time, from your open laptop on the kitchen counter. The keyboard was dusted with flour at this point, along with your hands and arms. You even felt it under your nails and in your hair, but you didn’t care.

You were going to make this damn pie if it killed you.

You’d even bought real cherries, not the canned filling. It meant more work for you in removing all the pits inside them, but this was worth the extra labor.

However, as it just occurred to you, you’d left them simmering with some sugar, lemon juice, and cornstarch in a pan, around the time of your second attempt at pastry dough.

“No!” you gasped, hastening to open the lid and checking the saucepan.

Oh, thank God, you thought, seeing that the cherry filling wasn’t bubbling over. It actually looked like the proper thickened consistency and smelled delicious. You just needed to do some more stirring.

An hour or so later, you had successfully shaped the dough, chilled and poured in the filling, and covered it with the (embarrassingly uneven) lattice work on top.

“Whatever. The man still believes in the Five-Second Rule. He’ll eat this,” you muttered as you slid the pie in. You even remembered to do an egg wash on top. You admired it for a moment in its raw pastry form, then closed the lid to the oven with a nod of satisfaction.

You wore a wide smile, feeling accomplished, until you turned around and saw the disaster you’d made of the kitchen. Flour was dusted across the counters, a pile of dishes in the sink, cherry remnants in the pan and dripping across the stove, and so much more. You winced at the sight.

“What the hell is this?” came a gruff voice.

Your gaze drew to the doorway with a sharp intake of breath. Dean was standing in the doorway to the kitchen with a bewildered expression on his face.

The man had a thing about people in “his kitchen.” You got ready to placate him with your hands raised as you took a step towards him, but then you gasped.

“Shit!” you yelped, slipping in some egg that had dropped on the floor. Your hand accidentally banged the oven on the way down, but your head also hit the corner of the wall.   

You ended up sprawled on your side across the dirty floor, dazed and winded. Dean hurried to your side with one of those frowns that always made you want to smooth the wrinkle between his brows.

He braced your shoulder, almost but not quite touching your hip with his free hand.

“Damn. You okay? This ain’t a slip n’ slide,” he said.

Your lips twitched at a smile, but you sighed. “I’m okay.”

“You hit your head?” he asked, beginning to help you up slowly.

“A little,” you admitted. “Nothing the old bag of frozen carrots in the freezer won’t cure.”

Dean grimaced, but after he made sure you were settled on your feet, he checked the back of your head. You tried not to blush (and revel) at the feeling of his fingers slipping into your hair, even if he was trying to feel for a knot back there.

He was close enough that you could almost feel his body heat through the black shirt he wore, for once without the outer layer of plaid. He smelled like grease and sweat; likely he’d been working on Baby.

Were you weird for kind of liking that smell?

“Well, I don’t feel any goose eggs, so you’re probably fine,” he remarked.

“Thanks, House. Is that your final prognosis?” you asked, beginning to smirk.

Dean’s gaze met yours in amusement.

“Tell you what,” he said, “If you get a headache, I give you full permission to take one of the fun little pills I’ve got in my dresser.”

You laughed. “If it’s not Vicodin, I don’t want it.”

House M.D. was one of those shows you and Dean liked to watch together, along with Game of Thrones, and even Smallville, on occasion.

Dean smiled slightly. But even that was a small feat, and something you hadn’t seen from him in weeks. Not a real smile, anyway. Before today, nothing you’d tried had been working to brighten his mood.

Not pizza Fridays. Not letting him listen to the same damn Zeppelin album without complaint for that eight-hour ride on the last hunt. Not trying to gouge his level of broodiness and offering to hang out, to be a listening ear if he needed it.

He still hadn’t taken you up on the last one. While that hurt, you also understood it. You understood how Dean dealt with things he didn’t want to think about, let alone talk about, even to his own brother.  

Dean now looked down on you knowingly, gesturing at the rest of the kitchen.

“You gonna tell me what you’re doing in here?” he asked.

You crossed your arms and raised your chin, a smile playing on your lips.

“What, can’t handle somebody else in your kitchen? What’re you, Gordon Ramsey?” you teased.

Dean’s brows kicked up, his lips twitching.

“You’ve made a mess of my kitchen any number of times, but I ain’t ever smelled sweet, sweet cherry coming out of that oven,” he said. “You’re finally making me pie?”

You had to laugh. Inside, you were pleased that he now looked excited, his green eyes dancing. You clapped your hands over his arms.

“Yes, I’m making you your damn pie. Only took me fifteen tries, but it’s happening,” you said. You turned to check on it, but the second you opened the oven, black smoke billowed out.

Your eyes widened in horror and your mouth fell open on reflex, but harsh coughs tore from your throat as you waved your hand against the smoke. Dean quickly handed you the oven mitts, and you shoved them on before taking out the steaming dessert.

The entire top crust was scorched black. Cherry filling oozed out, and not in a good way. You slammed the oven shut with your hip, and you had to toss the pan onto the counter for how hot it was.

Inside that pan was a dreadful excuse for a pie.

Dean had an arm crossed under his elbow, while a hand came up to cover his mouth as he took in the state of it. He then looked over at you.

He saw the shock, settling into pursed lips and tight shoulders. You turned in slow movements.

You saw that the oven had been switched to “Broil” on the highest setting. You’d probably messed that up when you fell and hit the dial with your hand. But Christ, was that a powerful oven.

Those old white guys really didn't mess around when they built this damn bunker, you thought sourly.

Dean took another look at the steaming pie and grimaced, despite his amusement.

“Well, she won’t be entering any beauty pageants, that’s for sure,” he teased.

His playful smirk fell, however, the moment you turned around. He saw the way you were biting your lip, and the tears brimming in your eyes.

He softened, and he went to you.

“Aww, sweetheart. It’s okay,” he chuckled, and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. “‘S probably better than I could do.”

You rested your head against his chest and sniffled. You blinked to try to stem off your tears. 

“It’s not about the damn pie! I mean, not really. It’s just…” you trailed.

You quieted, realizing you were about to say things you’d rather not.

Dean noticed though. Because of course he did.

“Then what’s it about?” he asked.

You avoided his gaze at first, though he was too perceptive not to notice. He jostled you a little against his side.

“Huh? You wanna answer me?” he asked. His lips curved at the way you were fighting a smile yourself. Your tears won out though.

You turned under his arm and leaned up on your toes, so you could hug him. Your arms twined around his neck and you held him tight.

To say it surprised Dean would be an understatement, his eyes widening a fraction. He still held you back, almost on reflex.

“I couldn’t do anything else,” you said, through tears. “Not for you, or Sam…or for Mary.”

Dean’s confusion descended into grim understanding. A weight fell deep in his gut, clenching painfully the way it always did, when he thought about his mom.

The fact that Jack didn’t have his soul didn’t make a difference, no matter what Sam said. Not in Dean’s mind, anyway.

Jack had killed their mom.

She was gone, had been taken from them. And that second loss had torn a new chasm in Dean’s heart, deeper than the last one. He held you a bit tighter without realizing it.

“I’m sorry,” you said, rubbing his back. “I know you don’t want to talk about it. I just wanted to…to do something for you.”

Slowly, Dean pulled away a little. His hands moved to your waist as he looked down on you with a heaviness in his eyes. For a moment, he just took in the contours of your face, your eyes shining with tears that clung to your lashes. You were looking up at him like all you wanted to do was fix it. And fix him.

Well, you had to know that was a lost fucking cause. But it just didn’t stop you from staying here with him and Sam, living with them, hunting with them, being one of the last friends they had, after all these years.

It didn’t stop Dean from loving you for it, either.

He let out a breath, and he couldn’t help but raise a hand to get some of the flour off your cheek. He smoothed the back of his hand against your skin, along your jaw, and finally brushed his thumb across your lower lip, where you had worried it with your teeth.

“You’re too damn much, you know that?” he murmured.

You were blushing hot at his touch, but you frowned at his words. Until you noticed the fond glint in his eyes…and for the first time, something more. Something he was finally allowing you to see.

When he bent down and claimed your lips, your thoughts stuttered to a halt. You gripped the front of his shirt instinctively. He framed your face with his hands; they were calloused and smelled like motor oil, but you didn’t give a shit. Not one iota. Because it meant something, and your heart swelled with a warmer, brighter feeling.

You gripped his shirt tighter and leaned up to meet his second kiss. His hand moved to your lower back, pulling you flush against him. You grabbed onto his shoulders and let him invade your mouth with his warm tongue slipping against yours. You moaned, the sound echoing between you both and shooting right to his dick.

His brows furrowing, Dean’s fingers slipped into your hair again, but this time, to tangle in the strands. He walked you back until your ass hit the counter, where he grabbed hold of your thighs and hefted you on top of it, regardless of whatever stains covered its surface.

He moved in between your jean-clad thighs and encouraged you wordlessly to wrap them around his hips. You didn’t need much encouragement.

“Dean,” you whispered, between heated kisses, hands wandering down your body, exploring soft curves and warmth over clothing.

“Hmm?” he said, into your mouth. It was distracting, but you found the strength to slow things down, gently taking his face into your hands.

You both caught your breath for a moment. It allowed Dean to see the thread of uncertainty in your gaze, even though you caressed his stubble-covered cheeks.

“I just…do you…is this…” you tried, but your brain seemed to be on a short fuse. You blamed his sinful lips entirely.

Said lips drew into a smirk. Dean’s hands moved up your thighs and held your waist less gripping, more comforting (and claiming).

“I really do, and damn straight it is,” he said, slightly teasing. He did lean back in to press a gentler kiss to your lips.

“Trust me,” he said, as he became more serious. “If you want more from this…”

At that, your uncertainty melted into warmth. You released his face, holding onto his shoulders instead.

“Yeah, Dean,” you nodded. “More than anything, yes.”

He read your sincerity, and it warmed him too. Again, he gave into the urge to brush his thumb against your blushing cheek.

“I uh…I had a feeling it was always gonna be you,” he said.

You raised a brow at that, even though your smile threatened to unravel him further.

“Oh, yeah? How long?” you asked.

Dean pretended to think.

“Since that first batch of oatmeal cream pies,” he said, with a cheeky grin. “Pretty sure I was marked from there on out.”

And not just because he’d been imagining what you’d be like to taste, ever since.

You giggled, though you gestured with your eyes at the charred pan next to you on the counter.

“Guess I should try again on that pie. Wonder what that’ll get me,” you hedged, letting your thumb graze his neck. Dean smirked.

“All right, sure. Remind me to pick up a new fire extinguisher,” he said.

You guffawed and hit his shoulder, but he just laughed and pulled you in for another kiss.

It was sweet enough on its own.

AN: I know, I know. I'm a sap. 😂 Let me know what you thought of this pie-filled episode! 🥧 💕

Ko-Fi Me ☕

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[castiwls]

confessions - d.w

Paring; dean x reader

Prompt; Confessing your love while drunk is all well and good until that drink wears off. (pt2 for drunken confessions)

Requested; @nix-rose

Notes;tysm for the request sorry this took so long lmao <3

Masterlist | pt1

Taking a sip from the mug you continued staring forward. You’d barely slept the night before, your mind had been going a mile a minute ever since you’d managed to get Dean into his room and convinced him to sleep.

So far you’d spent most of your time thinking over what you could possibly say to him whenever he emerged from his room. The weight of ruining your friendship lay heavy over you, while he’d claimed to be in love you had no way to know if he was telling the truth.

You’d known Dean long enough to know that when he got drunk enough his emotions came pouring out in strange ways. Sometimes he’d bottle up and refuse to say anything, he’d use the drink to dull the pain yet sometimes he went in the completely other direction. And last night seemed that he’d been pretty open and willing to talk about things such as how he felt.

Though you knew that the chances of him even remembering coming home last night were low.

Letting out a small sigh you placed the mug down on the table before looking to the door for a moment. The sound of footsteps caught your attention as you watched the doorway. As they grew closer the sound of a small groan echoed off the walls. Your lips quirked up slightly at the sound.

“Morning.” Dean paused in the doorway rubbing a hand over his eyes. His gaze fell onto you and he tensed for a moment before clearing his throat. Slowly he took a seat opposite you, his eyes falling on your mug. 

Wordlessly you pushed it over to him earning a small smile in thanks. He took a long sip before placing the mug down and staring at it. “How’s your head?” You placed your hands on the table in front of you looking at him expectantly. Dean looked up a small frown on his lips. “Sore.” 

You were both quiet for a moment as he quickly finished the drink. His shoulders seemed to tense the longer you both sat in silence. 

“Look, I’m not gonna dig into you about the whole getting drunk and not getting supplies,” Dean visibly relaxed at your words, part of him had expected you to chew him out the minute he’d walked into the kitchen yet you hadn't. Something which had left him feeling slightly on edge. “But we do need to talk about something.” A pit of anxiety was quickly forming in your stomach as you watched him tense again.

Taking a breath to calm your nerves you caught his gaze. “Do you…do you remember what you said last night?” Dean’s breath hitched slightly as he pushed the empty mug away. He kept your gaze as you began to nervously fiddle with your hands at his continued silence.

He pursed his lips for a moment before he closed his eyes. “I told you.” A small laugh left his lips as he leaned back in his chair running a hand down his face. “I…what did I say.” He stared at you expectantly as he bit down on his lip. He wasn’t one for sharing his feelings and the idea that he’d drunkenly blurted them out made him feel slightly sick.

The idea of being completely vulnerable with someone normally left him feeling on edge but the idea of being drunk and doing it freaked him out endlessly. 

“Not much.” You assured him. “You just…just confessed your love.” You watched as Dean’s eyes widened slightly before he nodded slowly. He thought for a moment allowing the initial shock he felt to dissipate. 

“How do you feel about it? About what I said?” His face stayed neutral but you could see the small glimmer of hope in his eyes. A small laugh left your lips, he was trying to skate around it. You’d seen him do this before, he wasn’t going to admit anything until you did. 

“That depends. Did you mean it?” 

You watched with bated breath as he was silent for a moment. You knew this could make or break your whole friendship with him. Dean Winchester was not someone who enjoyed being vulnerable, but if he really meant it then surely he could be vulnerable around you.

“I did. Hell, I really wish you hadn’t found out this way. But I really meant it.” 

He watched you closely for a moment before reaching for one of your hands. “Sweetheart, please don’t leave me hanging here.” He chucked nervously. “Maybe drunk you is braver than both of us.” You smiled squeezing his hand. You felt him squeeze your hand back a smile of his own growing on his lips.

“I’ve felt the same since we met.” Finally being able to admit it felt like a weight had been lifted off your chest almost. You’d carried around these feelings for so long that you’d accepted the fact that nothing would ever come of them yet here you were.

Dean’s grin seemed to grow at your confession. “So me getting drunk paid off then.” He joked watching as you quietly laughed as well.

“I guess it did.” You nodded. “We still need to talk about that though.” 

[anundyingfidelity]

AFFECTION — Soldier Boy

Summary: During a mission, Soldier Boy receives a hug from you unexpectedly. He likes it.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female supe!reader.

Word count: 0.9k

Warnings: canon violence and language, reader is kinda hurted, descriptions of blood and stuff, AU where Ben is working with the team on missions (which is what should've happened on the show btw), Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy lmao, Ben and reader are totally opposites and I live for that. Based on this post.

Note: soooo I'm still making some arrangements to my Soldier Boy long fic and instead I have this short drabble in the meantime. Hope you enjoy it hehe.

the boys/jackles tags: @k-slla

(if anyone would like to be added to my tags just tell me^^)

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

You groanned, feeling the hard wall hit against your back. It was hard to believe but you thought probably you wouldn't go out of this alive. Your body ached and not even your strenght could stop this guy.

Fucking Butcher, why did you have to follow him to suicide again? Just a couple of cunts, he said. But he forgot to mention they had a weird improved dosis of V injected.

You fell to the ground as the man walked towards you. He was extremely tall and well-buff. No sense the Compound V on his system made him better, or at least that's what he thought. He was tossed to the ground by your side, and you crawled to the corner of the small room.

The distance was not enough to let you run away. You stayed there, watching Soldier Boy's big frame over the man. He used his shield, beting him to death and destroying his face and neck during the process. You were so damn sure his loud groans of pain would remain on your mind at least for a couple of days.

"Fucking pussy," the old man said, wipping some blood off his face. He got on his feet ungracefully and grabbed his shield back. He turned to look at you, still sitting on the floor. "You okay?"

You nodded. "Yeah."

He held you a bloody hand, which you took to stand up. There was an akward silence as you and Ben left the small room, you followed him around the dirty basement, filled with lifeless bodies and fluids on the ground, to meet with Butcher and Hughie.

"Guess those were all," Butcher announced.

"I have the remaining dosis," you took the tube from the pocket of your pants and showed them with a smile on your face. "Was the last one."

"Excellent," Butcher grabbed it and tossed it to Hughie, who saved the tube on a bag.

"We made it out, huh," you mumbled.

"Well, we're still down here, so," Hughie shrugged and three pairs of eyes narrowed at him. "What?"

"Just think positively, for once," you pleaded with a fake sharp tone. "Isn't that hard, y'know."

Ben rolled his eyes.

"We're on a fucking shithole, the kid's right. Let's go now before any of you fuck this up," he ordered and passed by between Butcher and Hughie, hitting his shoulder intentionally in the process.

You quickly followed behind his long soldier strides. "Wait!"

Soldier Boy scoffed and closed his eyes slowly only to open them again. You stood on his way with a big smile and wide eyes. Bruises and blood adorned your face and neck, your clothes were also splattered with dry blood and dirt after killing those clandestine stupid supes on an undercover mission at night, and still you acted like nothing had happened. He stood in place, with Hughie and Butcher standing behind expecting what the fuck you'd be doing this time. Sometimes he thought you were so fucking annoying.

"The fuck you want?"

You opened your lips to say something but nothing came out. Once you closed them, you beamed again and closed the distance between him and you. You wrapped your arms around his strong waist and rested your grubby check against his chest. He tensed visibly under your hug and after a moment you pulled away, your hands behind your back with a shy smile. Hughie and Butcher were clearly holding back a good laugh. They knew better not to mock Soldier Boy, not yet though.

Ben blinked a couple of times, trying to process what happened.

"What the fuck was that?"

You giggled. "Affection."

He wrinkled his nose. "Disgusting."

You gasped and faked sadness on your voice. "Why? I was just saying 'thank you for saving my ass'."

"It's fucking nothing," he rolled his eyes and started to walk again to guide the team outside, with the other two men with playful smirks on their faces following behind.

"Ben!" you quickly caught his pace to stand by his side. "Thank you, okay? Probably you don't like physical contact but I do. And this is how I show others that I care about them and that I'm thankful. I also give hugs because I like them and–"

"Shh!" Ben raised his hand, suddenly stopping his tracks by the end of the stairs that'd lead you outside. He turned and looked at you with that grumpy face of his. "I said you're welcome, sweetheart. Now we need to go, you can talk to me about your hugs shit later."

He pointed to Hughie and Butcher. "Now, you, cocksuckers, go up."

Butcher grinned, going first. "Sure, cap."

"You shut up," Soldier Boy warned, Hughie gulped and nodded, and made his way up on the stairs.

You stood there, with a smile on your lips. Always that fucking, idiotic, stupid smile, even after hard missions like the one you just had. It was like if you were the only one who didn't seem scared of him or anything else. Sure, you were a supe and a smart asset on the team. But still, a very peculiar lady through his eyes.

He sighed and rolled his eyes. Once Butcher and Hughie were out of sight he finally talked.

"Do it again."

"Excuse me?"

"The stupid hug, do it again."

You raised your eyebrows, eyes bright as you realized his request. "Really?!"

"God, woman. Do I need to fucking repeat my—?"

His words were cut by your strong hug. You crashed against his frame so hard he lost balance for a bit. He was certainly surprised by how warm your hug it actually felt. You angled your eyes to see his face.

"Thanks!"

You let him go and got up the stairs. He barely curved his lips at how happy you climbed them. Yeah, well he actually liked your stupid hugs.

soldier boy / reader

[wildwestdean]

sweet and sour

summary: when you get back home after drinking a little too much, a sweeter side of ben slips out to take care of you. though you quickly learn that with him, you can't have any sweet without a little sour

pairing: soldier boy x female reader

word count: 3.2k+

warnings: some (mainly) ooc ben, swearing, depictions of alcohol consumption, drunk reader, angst, mentions of drug use, allusions to past sexual behaviours, fluff, hurt/comfort, nicknames/pet names

a/n: okay so i haven't actually made it to soldier boy's appearance in the boys yet, but i had a burning desire to write for him anyway. so yeah just don't judge pls lol

“What the fuck are you doing?” boomed a voice from behind you. 

You jumped slightly at the sudden noise, but turned with a grin upon recognizing whose voice it was. 

“Ben!” you giggled, meeting his confused gaze with bright eyes as you slightly swayed on your feet. “What’re you doing?”

He raised an eyebrow at you, trying to fight off the smirk forming on his lips as he ignored your question. “Looks like you had a good time out, huh, sweetheart?”

You couldn’t help the heat that rose to your cheeks at the term of endearment, or the string of giggles that left your lips. It wasn’t anything you weren’t used to, but it never failed to make you giddy - especially now. “I did!” you announced, before a frown suddenly took over your face as you remembered why you were in the kitchen “But now I want another drink, and I can’t find anythin’.” 

Ben just stared at you for a moment, taking in your rosey cheeks and glossy eyes; but most importantly, the frown that currently adorned your adorable face. He would never admit it, not even to himself, but he suddenly wanted nothing more than for that frown to disappear. 

“Alright,” he sighed, heading over to you. “What do you want?” 

You watched as he approached, taking in his more casual appearance of a t-shirt and sweats - and, you noticed with a shy grin, a pair of old man slippers. He came to a stop just before you, and you paused as you stared up at his stoic face while he towered over you. You didn’t even hear his question, too distracted by his overwhelming everything to even realize he asked something. 

He softly called your name to rouse you from your stupor, repeating it a little more gruffly when it didn’t work the first time. “What?” you asked, blinking up at his annoyed yet smirking face. 

“I asked you what you wanted,” he murmured. 

“Oh,” you said, your face scrunching together as you thought about it for a few moments. “I dunno,” you determined with a shrug. 

“And you expect me to find something for you?” he asked curtly, his brows rising in disbelief.  

Your brow unfurrowed as you grinned up at him. “Yes, please!” you declared eagerly, oblivious to the fact that he did not want to cater to you. 

He clenched his jaw, extremely irritated with his urge to smile at the sight of your cheesy grin. “Fucking-” he started, before he cut himself off with a long sigh, rolling his eyes. “Alright, fine. Just go sit down or something.”  

“Why?” you asked sadly, the frown taking over your face again. 

“Why?” he echoed incredulously. “When I came in, you were trying to find a drink while just staring at the fucking glassware for over a minute. That’s why.”

“Were you watchin’ me?” you asked smugly, smirking up at him. “Besides, that doesn’t mean I can’t help find a drink!” you argued, completely missing his point. 

His blank expression faltered for a second, a flash of colour fleeting across his face so quick it may as well have never been there. Then he simply barked a laugh, which only deepened your frown. “I bet you wish I was, huh? And you know, that's actually exactly what it means, dollface,” he chuckled darkly, tracing his knuckles along your cheek before suddenly grabbing you by the waist and hoisting you up onto the counter. “So sit this one out,” he said, ignoring your shriek of shock and protest. 

“Fine,” you grumbled, completely bewildered by the ease in which he manoeuvred you; as if it cost him zero effort. Which, of course, you knew to be true. 

“Good,” he said, smiling in satisfaction before ghosting a kiss against your forehead. “Now don’t fuckin’ fall off,” he warned as he walked over to the coffee machine. 

You watched him in confusion, your swirling brain trying to figure out why he was suddenly so much more affectionate with you. You were used to him teasing you, or returning your flirtations and banter, though this felt like more than that. Maybe he was just being extra nice since you were drunk. Or maybe you only thought he was being extra nice because, well, you were drunk. 

“Okay, knock it off,” he demanded, glancing over at you. “Why are you so frowny? I thought you liked your stupid girls’ night thing,” he added, leaning against the island with his arms crossed. 

“I do like my girls' nights! And I’m not frowny” you grumbled, almost offended he would suggest otherwise. 

“No?” he challenged, arching a brow as he took a few steps towards you. “‘Cause last I checked, this wasn’t your pretty smile,” he teased, tracing a thumb against your persistently downturned lips. Your smile naturally grew at that, and he beamed in response. “There’s my girl.” 

Your eyes widened at his words, and your reaction must have made Ben realize what he was doing. With slightly widened eyes of his own, he dropped his hand from your face as if burned and turned away from you once more, busying himself with making your coffee - exactly the way you liked it. 

You watched in silence, your feet softly swaying against the lower cabinets as your mind drifted in and out. “You don’t have any company tonight?” you found yourself asking suddenly.

“Think I’d be in here doing this if I had fucking company?” he asked hotly. “And I’m pretty sure you know when the last time I had company was,” he added bitterly. 

Through all the months of you living with Ben, you had noticed when his parade of bed warmers had started to dwindle down; and you had definitely noticed when it stopped altogether. Part of you likes to wish you had something to do with it, while the other part knew that was insane.

“Okay, grouchy,” you scolded with a chuckle. “Don’t act like it’s my fault.” 

“When the fuck did I act like it was your fault?” he snapped, growing exasperated. 

“Are you almost done?” you asked brazenly, ignoring his question. “I’m thirsty.”

“Coming right up, princess,” he sneered. 

You knew it was meant in a derogatory way based on his tone, yet you couldn’t help the warm tingle that spread through you anyway. 

“Here,” he grunted after a few minutes, nearly shoving the mug at you. He raised his eyebrows impatiently when all you did was stare down at it. “I better not have made this for nothing,” he warned. 

You gingerly took it from his hands, staring at it as if it was a foreign object; because, with a fluttering heart, you realized that he gave you your favourite mug - though you knew it was probably just a coincidence. 

“Thank you,” you said quietly, grinning softly at him before taking a sip. 

“Whatever,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes as he hastily turned his back on you once more. 

“You seem extra grumpy tonight,” you pointed out, watching him intently as you happily sipped away. 

“Who fucking cares?” he grumbled, keeping his attention off you as he made himself a drink - a strong one. He had a sinking feeling that if he looked at you he’d feel all warm inside again, and he refused to let that happen. “Besides. Maybe me being extra grumpy has to do with the drunk girl currently sitting on my counter.” 

“Oh,” you said meekly. “I’m bothering you?”

“You always fucking bother me,” he mumbled, slamming the bottle down. 

“I don’t mean to,” you assured quietly, your vision growing blurry with unshed tears. “I thought we’ve been getting along,” you added sadly. 

“Me putting up with you isn’t us getting along, dollface,” he sneered. 

You inhaled sharply at his declaration, your tears finally breaking loose and running down your face. “I can just leave you alone, then,” you offered, your voice a mere whisper. 

Ben made the mistake of glancing over at you, and the pang of guilt he felt inside his chest really pissed him off. He begrudgingly made his way over to you, standing between your swaying legs as he tried to meet your gaze - but you refused to acknowledge his presence. 

“Look at me,” he ordered, placing a hand on your chin to force your gaze on him. 

“No,” you said, closing your eyes. 

He let out an honest chuckle at your stubbornness, and if you had been able to see him, you would’ve noticed his eyes sparkle with affection. “Look at me,” he said again, much softer this time as his thumbs wiped away your tears. 

You let out a resigned breath, slowly looking up at him. 

“There she is,” he cooed, a small smile growing on his face. “Hey, darlin’.” 

“Hi,” you replied solemnly, your face scrunching ever so slightly in confusion over the interaction.

He didn’t speak for a while. Instead he just stood there, staring at you with your face in his hands as he tried to figure out what the hell to say next. 

“Look, just- stop crying, alright?” he said awkwardly, almost nervously. 

“Is that your idea of being comforting?” you asked dejectedly, almost laughing in disbelief. 

His grip on your cheeks tightened ever so slightly for a fraction of a second, before loosening again. “You and I both know that offering comfort isn’t my thing.” 

“You could at least try,” you muttered snidely. “I’m tired of being the only one of us who tries.” 

“What the fuck does that mean?” he snapped, letting you go and taking a step back in order to glare at you. 

You scoffed, frustratingly swiping away angry tears that began to stream down your face. “It doesn’t matter.” 

A heavy silence blanketed the two of you, and you picked up your mug to idly sip at it once more as he stared you down. He suddenly let out a frustrated huff, swearing and muttering under his breath as he turned away from you and grabbed his glass. With disbelieving eyes, you watched as he left the kitchen without a second glance. You weren’t a stranger to arguments with Ben, but this time, it felt different.

You stayed where you were perched, silently finishing your coffee and trying to make sense of everything that happened. You worked yourself back up into another frenzy as you thought everything over, and by the time your mug was empty you slammed it onto the counter with so much force you were surprised it didn’t break. Hopping off the counter, you began to stumble your way to your bedroom while angrily grumbling to yourself. A new inferno was set alight within you when along the way you came across Ben, nonchalantly lounging in the den as if nothing ever even happened. 

“How many fucking times do I have to tell you not to do that inside?” you snapped, watching in growing contemptment as he merely glanced in your direction before turning his attention elsewhere, smoke billowing over his face.  

“Tell you what, princess,” he muttered, taking another long drag from the joint he held. “I’ll stop smokin’ inside, as soon as you start payin’ for this fucking place.”

Without so much as giving it a second thought, you marched over to him and ripped the joint from his hands. He raised an eyebrow as he watched you with curiosity, a smirk already forming on his lips.

“I said,” you seethed, grabbing the ashtray from the side table as you stared him down. “Stop.”

He stayed silent, watching as you crushed the joint in the tray before tossing it back on the table with a clang. The corners of his mouth twitched as he fought back an amused grin before he steeled himself. 

“I’ll go ahead and give you ten seconds to leave,” he announced calmly, though you knew him well enough by now to notice the hint of warning in his tone. 

“Or what?” you challenged, stubbornly crossing your arms. 

Normally, you knew when to stop trying to push his buttons, but you had just enough alcohol still coursing through you to keep on going this time. 

He leaned forward, his presence completely imposing despite the fact he was sitting and you were standing over him. “Do you really want to find out?”

You shifted nervously as you took in his expression, and you knew he was both pissed off and annoyed; then again, it was rare that he wasn’t. 

“Whatever,” you finally muttered, turning away to leave. 

It wasn’t due to you being afraid of him - yes, he was intimidating as all hell, but he had never once actually physically hurt you. Despite the many times the urge struck him, and no matter how much he despised it, he quickly learned that you’re the one person he could never lay a harmful hand on. No, you simply left because you were growing exhausted over this whole night, and you just wanted some peace and quiet. 

“Thought so,” he grumbled behind your back, snickering as you momentarily stopped in your tracks. 

“Oh, just go to hell, Benjamin!” you exclaimed, whipping the closest thing you could grab towards his head. 

He caught it easily, laughing heartily when he realized what it was. “Thanks, doll. This is just what I needed,” he teased with a grin, rattling the pill bottle as he held it in the air for you to see. “It’s the only way I can fuckin’ put up with you.”

You stared at him carefully, and you could tell just by the look in his eyes that he only said it to get another rise out of you, but you couldn’t help the way your bottom lip trembled as you fought back more tears. 

His face instantly fell as he noticed your reaction, and while it was his intention, he instantly regretted it. With a heavy sigh, he tossed the bottle aside and stood up. 

“What are you-” you began to ask as he made his way over to you, but he cut you off. 

“Just shut up for once,” he muttered, a trace of a lighthearted chuckle in his voice as he shook his head. 

You opened your mouth to fire off more insults when he shocked all the words out of your vocabulary by wrapping his arms around you. He rested his chin on the top of your head, and even though you felt insurmountable anger towards him, you quickly found yourself melting into his touch, your arms tightening around his torso. A few moments passed by before he let out a small sigh, his fingers tracing a feather-light pattern along your back; a gentleness neither of you knew he was even capable of. 

“Look, I-... I didn’t… mean it,” he finally said. His tone was tight and awkward, and you knew it was a near impossible thing for him to actually admit. Honestly, hearing those words from him was nothing short of a miracle. 

“Thank you,” you said quietly, knowing this was the closest you would ever get to an apology from him. 

“How about we get you to bed, huh?” he asked lightly, trying to diffuse the situation. 

“Yeah,” you said, pulling away from him. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

You quickly left before he could respond, making it to your bedroom and locking yourself away in the bathroom to get ready. You took your time, carefully scrubbing away all the traces of the club, and the rest of the night, that you could before slipping into your night clothes. 

The first thing your bleary eyes noticed when you reentered your bedroom was Ben, paused in the middle of your room with a glass of water in his hand. 

“What are you doing?” you asked curiously, rubbing at your tired eyes. 

He let out a heavy exhale, looking at you with an expression you’ve never seen on him before. “Was just… bringing this to leave for you."

“Thanks,” you replied awkwardly, meeting him halfway to take the glass from him.

He stared at you for a moment, watching as you made your way to the bed and under the covers. He wanted to say something, but he wasn’t sure what. 

“I’ve been trying, you know,” he suddenly grumbled, unable to take the tense silence any longer. 

“What?” you wondered aloud, glancing over at him. 

His face was scrunched in concentration as he stared at something straight ahead, unable to bring himself to meet your gaze. “With you. To be… I don’t know… better.”

His words took you by surprise, and you felt a little guilty for making him think you never noticed. “I know that,” you admitted softly. 

“I don’t think you do,” he quipped, his voice more aggressive than he meant it to be. “You bother me all the fucking time.” 

“You know-” you began to argue, anger starting to simmer deep within your bones again. 

“Stop,” he all but growled, holding up a hand. “Just fucking listen for once.”

You glowered at him, folding your arms as you sank further under the covers, as if seeking some kind of protection, while waiting for him to continue. 

It took him a while to speak up again, and you almost thought he’d never continue, but he hesitantly explained himself. “You bother me… because you make me different.” 

“What do you mean?” you asked tentatively. 

“I don’t know,” he admitted, chuckling humourlessly. “I’m a dick. I don’t care that I’m a dick. But you- I’m around you, and I want to be less…” he trailed off with a sigh, unsure of how to go on. 

“Less dickish?” you offered, fighting off a smile. 

“Yeah,” he agreed, awkwardly clearing his throat. “Yeah, I guess so.”

You hummed thoughtfully, thinking over your response. “In case you haven’t noticed, you don’t exactly send me running for the hills, Ben.”

“I know that,” he said passively. “I just… I don’t know. Don’t think that I don’t try.”

He finally turned to look at you, and you could see the pleading in his eyes; the hurt. You sighed in defeat, sitting up and gesturing for him to take up the space beside you. He hesitated, raising a brow in contemplation before making his way over. You peeled back the covers for him, and he carefully slid in; cautious, as though he thought it was a trap. 

Neither of you were sure what to do next, and after a few minutes of awkward silence, you laid down to settle in for some sleep. Ben followed suit, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you in close; you instinctively nestled against him, relishing in the warmth he provided.  

“I hope you don’t think I’m drunk enough to forget that you were actually sweet tonight,” you said suddenly, your voice a playful whisper. 

He let out a chuckle, his chest rumbling beneath your cheek and forcing a small giggle from you. 

“Just don’t expect it all the time,” he declared, a playful undertone in his voice as well. “I’m mostly sour.” 

Though despite his declaration, his grip tightened to pull you in a little closer. 

“Well,” you said, closing your eyes and relaxing against him. “Sweet and sour does happen to be my favourite combination.” 

“And thank Christ for that,” he muttered, more to himself than anything. 

You smiled to yourself, hearing his words despite them sounding far away. You had a fleeting intent to respond, but your mind grew too heavy, and you quickly fell asleep to the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your head - though, not before you felt him placing a lingering kiss to your hairline, paired with a murmured goodnight, sweetheart.

tagging: @roseblue373

[cheynovak]

Sugar

Soldier boy x F/ reader  (Y/N)  

Warnings: 18+, cursing, smut, unprotected sex, age difference, oral sex, ...

Side note: English isn’t my first language.    

*Does not follow The Boys storyline * 

-- 

Y/N is a college student who pays her apartment, bills and school tuition with the money she makes as ‘sugar baby’ for Soldier boy. What started as just being a companion on lonely moments became quickly more physical.  

 

Ben just came home from a rough day, not in the mood for her. But she finds a way to ease him. 

-- 

In the dimly lit and luxurious loft nestled amidst the towering skyscrapers of New York, waits Y/N dressed in exquisite lingerie, chosen by him. The first time he had bought her lingerie or expensive parfum she had hated it.  

Like she wasn’t good enough for him the way she was. But then again, this adventure started out as ‘companionship’ getting some money for having dinner with him and listening to his fucked-up stories.  

But that soon turned around into something that looked more like prostitution. Not the quick and cheap fuck, kind of thing. No, she did get paid very well plus the extra gifts she got were a bonus.  

Y/N reclined on the velvet couch, her silhouette illuminated by the flickering flames of scented candles that cast a warm, intimate glow throughout the room. Her outfit, a delicate ensemble of lace and silk, clung to her curves in all the right places, a tantalizing promise of the evening's potential. 

Her mind drifted back to the night when everything changed, when Ben, as he was known to her then, had initiated their first intimate encounter.  

It had been a seemingly ordinary evening, with dinner at a high-end restaurant, where Ben had the best table. Followed by a stroll through the city streets. The conversation had flowed effortlessly, laughter punctuating the air as he shared stories. 

As the night wore on, he had asked her inside for another drink, and the last dregs of wine lingered in their glasses, Ben had leaned in, his touch igniting a fire within her that she hadn't known existed.  

She remembered the sensation of his hands tracing the contours of her body, the heat of his breath against her skin, how his lips claimed hers, it still sends shivers down her spine when she thinks of it.  

Caught off guard by his sudden advances, Y/N had frozen. And then, just as quickly as it had begun, it was over. Ben had withdrawn “Why so tense?” he had asked. 

But without being able to form a sentence she left, without her money for the night. The next day he had called her for meeting up, but she ignored his calls for over a week.  

The sudden creak of the loft door snapped her back to reality. Her heart skipped a beat as she watched Ben stride in, dressed in his iconic green superhero outfit, the weight of his presence filling the room. 

But there was something different about him tonight. A palpable tension hung heavy in the air. His brow furrowed, jaw set in a tight line, he seemed lost in a cloud of discontent. 

Y/N's stomach churned with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension as she met his gaze, unsure of what to expect. Before she could utter a word, Ben's voice cut through the silence, sharp and curt. 

"I don’t need you tonight. You can go," he muttered, his tone laced with a bitterness she had never heard before. "There's money on the table." The words hit her like a punch to the gut, a stark reminder of the transactional nature of their relationship. 

Y/N rose from the lounge, her steps slow and deliberate as she approached Ben, who stood with his back turned, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. For a moment, she hesitated, its easy money, but then again, after these months she kind of bonded with this brute.  

Unsure of how to proceed, but then she steeled herself and reached out, her hands finding their way to his tense shoulders. As her fingers began to work their magic, kneading away the knots of tension that had taken root within him. 

Ben stiffened at her touch, a fleeting flicker of surprise crossing his features. Yet, he made no move to pull away, allowing her to continue. "Are you sure?" she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur as she leaned in close, her breath tickling the nape of his neck.  

"You seem... tense tonight." She said in between kisses on his neck and shoulder, her hands moved to his stomach and slowly moved down, but he held her wrist in one hand.  “I’m not in the mood Y/N.” he bit.  

Y/N nodded in understanding, her fingers continuing their soothing dance back to his shoulder. "That's okay," she reassured him, her voice soft and reassuring. "You don't have to pretend with me." 

Her hands still kneaded his back.  

“I have an idea. Why don’t you lay down on the bed and let me give you a good massage. If you still want me to leave I will.” He looked at her over his shoulder and said with a sigh. “Fine.”  

"Relax," she whispered, her voice a soothing melody amidst the silence of the loft. "You don't have to do anything. Just let me take care of you." Those words brought a grin on his face. 

As Ben settled onto the end of the bed, Y/N knelt before him, her hands moving with practiced precision as she began to undo the buttons of his suit jacket. With each flick of her wrist, she revealed swaths of toned muscle beneath the fabric, the contours of his body a testament to the strength that lay within. 

With each button undone, she uncovered more of his skin, the warmth of his body radiating beneath her touch. With a soft exhale, Ben allowed himself to relax into her ministrations, the tension in his shoulders beginning to ebb away. 

And as she finally freed him from the confines of his clothing, he closed his eyes, surrendering himself to the blissful sensation of her hands against his skin. “Turn around.” she whispered.  

She kneaded the muscles of his shoulders and neck with just the right amount of pressure, coaxing them to relinquish their tight grip. Beneath her touch, Ben felt himself drifting, his mind unspooling from the worries and responsibilities that had weighed him down. 

Her hands so soft and yet every touch of her makes him wanting more.  

As Ben's eyes fluttered open, “Where did you learn to do this doll?” he looked over his shoulder. Only to find himself momentarily speechless at the sight that greeted him. There she sat, exquisite lingerie that left little to the imagination. 

How did he miss that when he walked inside?  

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as Ben's eyes roamed over her, taking in every curve and contour with a hunger that betrayed his desires. And in that fleeting moment, Y/N saw the raw longing reflected in his gaze.  

He turned back around, sitting against the wall.  

Y/N leaned in close, her fingers deftly undoing Ben's pants with a boldness that took him by surprise. With each movement, he felt his breath catch in his throat, his body tensing beneath her touch. 

 

Revealing the evidence of his desire in all its glory. As she met his gaze once more, a silent understanding passed between them. As Ben's hand moved to the back of her head.  

With a silent nod, Y/N obeys, her fingers trailing lightly along his length as she leaned in closer, her lips parting to take him into her mouth. She began to fulfil his demand. 

Y/N heard Ben's moans and groans, the sound brings shivers all over her body. Encouraged by his response, she swirled her tongue around him, teasing and tantalizing with every flick and caress, gliding along his length. 

She changed her pace, alternating between slow, deliberate strokes and quick, eager movements, each one designed to drive him crazy. With each downward thrust, she took him deeper, her throat accommodating his girth. 

She hollowed her cheeks, applying just the right amount of suction to elicit a throaty groan from him, her own arousal mounting with each breathless sound he made. 

And as she continued her relentless assault, she felt him growing more desperate, his hips bucking involuntarily as he surrendered himself to the overwhelming pleasure. 

With each passing moment, she could feel him nearing the edge. As Ben felt the intense pleasure coursing through him, his words spilled. He growled, his voice thick with desire.  

"You're so desperate for it, aren't you?" Ben's voice was out of breath. "You could have left making a lot of money for nothing, but here you are... on your knees, sucking my cock." 

Y/N's pulse quickened at his words, her arousal mounting with each passing moment. His dominance over her fuelled a primal hunger within her. "Yes," she whimpered, her voice barely a whisper as she surrendered herself to him completely. " I wanted to feel you in my mouth, to taste you.” 

Ben's grip on her hair tightened, pulling her closer to him. "You're mine, aren't you?" Ben's voice was a low growl, his eyes dark with lust as he held Y/N's gaze captive. "Say it. Tell me you belong to me." 

"Yes," she gasped, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm yours, Ben. All yours." 

A wicked grin spread across Ben's lips, a predator basking in the sweet surrender of his prey. "That's right," he purred, his words dripping with satisfaction. 

"You're such a filthy little slut." Ben's voice dripped with dominance, his eyes smouldering with a primal intensity as he looked down at Y/N. "You're going to take it all, aren't you?"  

Ben's voice was commanding, his gaze locked on Y/N with an intensity that left no room for hesitation. "You're going to swallow every last drop when I come, like the obedient little slut you are." 

Y/N's breath caught in her throat at his words, arousal forming between her legs. With a silent nod, she braced herself for what was to come, determined to prove her obedience to him.  

With a primal groan of pleasure, he surrendered himself to the overwhelming sensation, his release flooding her mouth. The taste of him was intoxicating, a heady blend of salt and musk.  

As the last drop slipped down her throat, she felt a sense of fulfilment wash over her, a sense of satisfaction in knowing that she had pleased him, that she had surrendered herself completely to his desires. 

Ben's fingers threaded through Y/N's hair, his touch gentle and reassuring as he murmured a praise. "You're such a good girl," he whispered.  

"So obedient, so eager to please. I knew you were a good choice." 

Ben pulled her onto his lap, his fingers deftly worked at the clasp of Y/N's bra, she felt a rush of anticipation coursing through her veins, her heart quickening with excitement.  

With a soft click, the bra fell away, leaving her exposed to his hungry gaze. 

A hunger burning in his eyes, Ben leaned in closer, his lips trailing a path of fire along the curves of her breasts. He kissed and licked, his movements slow and deliberate as he explored every inch of her soft flesh. 

And as Ben's tongue found its way to her sensitive nipples, swirling and sucking with a fervour that left her gasping for breath, Y/N felt a surge of arousal coursing through her.  

As Y/N's moans of pleasure filled the air while her core grinded over his hips.  

Ben couldn't help but chuckle softly, a wicked grin playing on his lips as he revelled in the intoxicating sound. With each desperate whimper that escaped her lips, he felt a surge of satisfaction wash over him, knowing that he held her pleasure in the palm of his hand. 

Ben's teasing came to an abrupt halt. With a firm grip, he held her still, denying her the release she so desperately craved. His voice was a husky murmur against her ear as he whispered his final decree. 

"Goodnight, doll," he teased, his words dripping with playful mockery. Y/N's eyes widened in disbelief at his sudden change in demeanour, a surge of frustration coursing through her as she realized he was withholding the pleasure she so desperately sought. 

“W-what?” she looked at him while he pushed her of him. “Goodnight.” he repeated turning the lights off.  

As the minutes stretched into sleepless hours, Y/N lay beside Ben, her mind swirling with a tempest of desire and frustration. With a sigh of resignation, she slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb him as she made her way to the bathroom. Closing the door behind her, she leaned against the cool tile, her body thrumming with unspent arousal. 

With trembling fingers, she traced delicate patterns across her skin, teasing herself with feather-light touches that sent shivers of pleasure coursing through her. She closed her eyes, losing herself in the sensation as she sought out the release that had eluded her for so long. 

Her breath hitched as she brushed against her most sensitive spots, her fingers dancing with a rhythm all their own as she brought herself closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. 

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the sound of Ben's voice, “The fuck do you think you’re doing?” he busted through the door. "I... I'm sorry," she stammered, her voice trembling with a mixture of embarrassment and shame. "I just... I needed..." 

But before she could finish her sentence, Ben's voice cut through the silence once more, his tone tinged with a mixture of annoyance and amusement. 

"If I wanted you to come, I would have let you come," he declared.  

His grin appeared “Show me how wet you are.” Y/N's cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal at Ben's bold request. With a silent nod, she slowly parted her legs, revealing the glistening evidence of her arousal to him. 

Her breath caught in her throat as Ben's gaze lingered on her, his eyes dark with desire as he took in the sight before him. With a soft groan, he reached out, his fingers tracing a path along her inner thigh as he drew closer, his touch sending shivers of pleasure coursing through her. 

"God, you're so fucking wet," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Wider doll.” he said giving her thigh a smack. Y/N's pulse quickened at his words, her body responding instinctively to his commanding tone. 

And as Ben leaned in closer, his fingers delved deeper inside her, Y/N's moans of pleasure filled the air. With each thrust of his hand, she felt herself spiralling closer and closer to the edge, her body trembling with the force of her impending release. 

"That's it, baby," he murmured, his voice a husky whisper against her skin. "You like that, don't you? You like it when I make you feel so good." She nodded her nails dug into his arm. 

"Fuck look at you. You're practically dripping.” "I need you," she gasped, her voice a breathless whisper. "I need you to make me come. Please, Ben, I can't take it anymore." 

As Ben pulled Y/N up, positioning her over the sink, a surge of anticipation rippled through her body, her breath catching in her throat as she braced herself for what to come. With a primal urgency, he pressed himself against her, his hard length throbbing with desire as he guided himself inside her from behind. 

With a firm grip on her hips, Ben began to move, setting a rhythm that sent waves of pleasure crashing over her. As he pounded into her with a primal fervour, she found herself unable to look away from the reflection staring back at her in the mirror. 

As Y/N's moans filled the bathroom, Ben's desire surged "Fuck, yes," Ben groaned, his voice a husky murmur as he surrendered himself to the overwhelming sensation. "That's it, baby. Moan for me. Let me hear how much you want it." 

Y/N's moans grew louder, more desperate.  

Please," she begged, her voice a breathless whisper. "Don't stop. I’m close... I need to come. Please, Ben, I need it." Ben's grip on her hips tightened, his own desire reaching a fever pitch as he felt her trembling beneath him. With a primal growl, he redoubled his efforts, driving her closer and closer to the brink with each thrust. 

And then, with a cry of ecstasy, she tumbled over the edge, her body convulsing with the force of her release. As Ben reached the peak of his own ecstasy, he released himself inside Y/N, filling her with warmth and intensity that sent shivers of pleasure coursing through her body.  

As Ben pulled Y/N up from the sink, a trickle of their combined release dripped down her legs. "Listen next time," he demanded, his voice firm but tinged with a hint of playfulness. "Or I won't let you come for a whole month." 

With a silent nod, she acquiesced to his command, knowing that, in this game of passion and power, he held all the cards. With a gentle command, Ben instructed Y/N to clean up and join him in bed. As he headed towards the bedroom, he left her to tend to herself.  

A soft sigh, she cleaned herself up, the cool water of the bathroom soothing against her skin as she washed away the evidence. She walked toward the bed hearing Ben’s snores.  

With a soft smile, she slipped beneath the covers, nestling herself against his warm, familiar form. She felt his arm instinctively wrap around her, pulling her close in his sleep. His touch was warm and reassuring, a silent reminder of the deep connection that existed between them. 

With a contented sigh, she nestled against him, her body moulding perfectly with him as they lay intertwined in the darkness. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest against her face was a soothing lullaby.  

--

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@yvonneeeee @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl

[all-alone-he-turns-to-stone]

Naive

Jensen Ackles Masterlist

Summary: It’s your first acting role. So, of course you make mistakes. Of course, you’re stressed and freeze when it’s time to do the sexy scene. It’s not your fault if biting your fingers and playing with your hair are your methods of stress relief. No matter what you do, the director always seem upset with you. You have no idea why until he asks you to meet on set way after shooting for a… private lesson.

Pairing: Jensen x F!Reader

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 7131

Warning: Smut, p in v, unprotected sex, grinding, sexual tension, unprofessional relationship, naive!reader, dom!Jensen, director!Jensen, semi public sex

Squares: Jensen Ackles for @anyfandomkinkbingo / Shyness/innocence for @j3bingo / New Job for @anyfandomfluffbingo / Grinding for @spnkinkevents

A/n: Hello hello! So this fic is born from the pic below (the one on the left) and a conversation I had with @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior! Thank you for sharing ideas with me and for being the beta to this fic!! Header made by me with pics from instagram and from the EW!

Don’t forget to leave a feedback! It’s what makes writer want to keep writing!

“Cut!”

In the room, a common sigh of frustration echoed. The little red light disappeared on the cameras as the people behind them stopped recording. Everyone on set, including the actors and the staff, stopped working and stared at the reason why they were interrupted again.

Not totally understanding what was happening and why everyone was looking at you, with rather annoyed expressions, you turned your attention to the director that just called for the cut. 

“Why are we stopping?” Playing nervously with a lock of hair, you left your mark and walked towards the blinding lights of the spots that were pointed at you. Most of the crew, including him, were sitting behind them. You just wanted to see his expression, just wanted to make sure the cut wasn’t because of you, just wanted to be sure-

“Don’t move from your mark. How many times do I have to say this?” The director hissed between his teeth. 

Freezing completely, you finally understood why the scene had been cut and that it had indeed been your fault. You walked back to your spot, quiet apologies falling from your lips and your head bent, feeling tears burn your eyes. It was your fault, again. 

“Alright. Y/n. We talked about this. We even changed the dialogue so it’s easier for you. So why are you still messing it up?” Your director asked, frustration evident.

“I-” You started, but luckily, you didn’t have to defend your case. Your co-star, Jacob, stepped forward, abandoning his mark as well. The director didn’t scold him for that though. 

“I don’t understand why we stopped again, the scene was going nicely,” he said, and you looked at him with teary eyes.

“First of all, I didn’t ask for your opinion.” The director responded.

You could just make out some movement in front of you, but you couldn’t really see anything because of the blinding spotlights. But in the end, you didn’t have to strain to see him, because your director walked up to where you were standing. The lights were now behind him, throwing him into silhouette. You blinked a couple of times, and squinted slightly to try and see him clearly. It wasn’t easy, but you finally managed…and immediately regretted it.

Not only was he scary, but he…somehow that scariness was also remarkably hot. You didn’t want to make him angry, but when he was…wow! Which made things so much more complicated and messed up.

“It’s her first role,” your co-star continued in your defense. But one glance from the director and his mouth was shut. “Sorry mister Ackles.” He demurred, and then, your would-be savior was back on his mark, leaving you alone in front of the director, Jensen Ackles.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, now biting your finger. It was all you could do - apologize for messing up all the time.

“Being sorry is not enough,” he walked even closer to where you were, and since you didn’t want to move from your mark, and make him angrier, he was quickly crowded into your personal space. His scent filled your senses and you felt yourself go weak, especially in the knees. You chewed on your finger harder. 

“You have talent, Y/n, but you are not focused,” he tapped your forehead which made you wince and blink. When you opened your eyes again, it was to plunge them into his gaze, and you regretted looking him in the eyes. In the darkness, his eyes looked almost black, even though you knew they were really the most gorgeous shade of green. 

“Don’t make me regret hiring you.”

It wasn’t really a threat, it was more of an effort to push you in the right direction. After all the scenes you’d already filmed, Jensen couldn’t fire you. It would cost too much to replace you at this point. You knew that, but still, hearing the words from him, the man you looked up to, the man you thought was so talented, so beautiful and so intimidating…well, it hurt. 

Feeling your eyes fill with tears again, you bent your head and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Alright. Now, we’ll do it once more. I want to feel desire between you and Jacob. You are his mistress, you missed him and you don’t have a lot of time with him before his wife gets back. It has to be passionate, rushed, you don’t have time to waste talking about the situation. I want to feel how much you need him.” 

You nodded again, trying hard to focus back to the scene, but then your gaze caught something. Still looking down, you had a good view on Jensen’s lower body. And next to his clenched fists, you were sure there was a bump forming in his jeans, a rather noticeable bulge stretching out the denim in his crotch.

You immediately looked away, afraid he would realize that you saw it, but then you were left staring at his hands again. You could see the veins that were protruding up his arms to his elbows where he had rolled up his sleeves, and they were hypnotizing. 

“Let’s roll.”

There was a very good reason why you were having so much trouble with the scene. And a big part of that reason was the director was making you incredibly horny, so that all you kept thinking about was him watching you make out with your co-star. 

You fumbled the scene again.

“Cut!”

Long sighs and even grunts echoed this time.

“That’s it. We’re taking a break.” Jensen’s voice was so rough, it sent shivers down your spine. This time, you knew it was your fault. You’d managed to kiss Jacob like you were meant to, with a burning passion. But then, when it was time to undress yourself…you froze.

You knew it was ridiculous, you weren’t really going to be naked. There were special items you were wearing for the sex scene. Nothing would be on display, your breasts were covered and you were keeping your underwear on. But the simple act of removing your shirt while he was watching was just too much; you couldn’t do it.

“I’m sorry,” you rushed to say, but Jensen was already gone.

You sighed deeply, wishing you could explain to him. There was also a very good reason why you were so shy and uncomfortable with intimate scenes. 

You’d dated someone before. Once. One boyfriend in your whole life. You weren’t a virgin, but your only experience of sex had been disastrous and awful. Your boyfriend had managed to make you feel so bad during your time together, so ugly and repulsive that you’d never again shown desire or interest for another man out of fear of feeling that pain again. 

And, it seemed, even if it was all fake for a movie, it was still very hard to get past. But you couldn’t tell your director all of that; it was too hard to say it out loud. 

When he chose to direct the movie, Jensen wanted to make sure he had the perfect lead actress for it. The auditions took way more time than they’d planned; he had looked and looked, calling back the women he thought weren’t too bad and might work, but none of them were right, and soon there was no one left to audition. 

That was when he saw you.

You weren’t even auditioning for the role; you weren’t even an actress! You were working behind the cameras, in the sound department, to be precise. Your job was to make sure the mics and mic packs were working. You had to get to the studio ahead of the others and set up the rooms before the auditions. You tested the speakers and the mics, to be sure everything was working properly, before connecting everything into your console so you could properly record the screen tests. 

One day Jensen was early and he got a glimpse of you working, and out of nowhere, walked over to you and gave you a script. 

“Try it.” He said simply, with a soft smile.

You thought it was a joke, so you played along and read the script. You knew who Jensen Ackles was, of course, you were quite the fan. So part of you also wanted to impress him, and well…the motivation to impress must have worked, because the next thing you knew, you were cast in the leading role.

Your first role. You were completely new to the acting industry. And your new job was way more stressful than you could have imagined when you accepted it excitedly.

When you met him, Jensen was a nice guy. Patient. Encouraging. But as the spicier scenes arrived, something changed. They stressed you out, you felt like he was watching your every move, and you didn’t know if you wanted to cry, hide, run away from him or literally just grab hold of him and start making out with him. 

Of course he was disappointed. He spent so much time, money and energy on you, and now you were messing everything up.

And you couldn’t even look him in the eye to say sorry.

After the break, Jensen came back and sat back in his director’s chair. He was wearing a baseball hat now, and it shaded his eyes, making his features look even more dominant. Another shiver ran over your whole body as you pictured him in the love scene instead of Jacob. There was nothing wrong with Jacob, he was cute. But you wondered…if you pictured Jensen with you in the scene when the cameras were rolling, would that make things easier, smoother? 

It was worth a try. 

You were back on your mark before he even had the time to call the scene. You were more than ready to show him it had been a good idea to hire you. You glanced in his direction, waiting for him to say action.

“We’re skipping this scene, it doesn’t work at all.” Jensen said brusquely.

You felt a sharp pain in your gut and immediately started chewing on your bottom lip. Of course. Because of you, he now had to change the whole scene. 

“Let’s go to act 2, scene 4.”

Filming went okay for the rest of the day. You messed up a couple of other takes and had to redo it, but luckily, your fellow cast members were kind and patient. Still, you couldn’t get Jensen’s sharp voice, telling you to stop messing up the scenes, out of your head. Even now that you were in your trailer, long after shooting was over, you could still hear it echo. 

Filming had lasted until the sun was down, and then you did a few night shoot scenes, and work was over.

Laying down on the bed in your trailer, you chewed absently on your lollipop as you read the script over and over again. By now, you knew it all by heart. All you had to do was to feel it, show it, like it was real. Closing your eyes, you imagined your co-star in front of you. You reached out a hand, like he was really with you, and slowly stroked his cheek. 

“She can’t know you’re here.”

Your thumb caresses lower on his face until it reaches his lips. There, you look, stare, want more, so you slip your thumb through his parted lips.

“She won’t if we’re quick,” you whisper, your face getting closer. It’s warm, his breath on your face, and a small smile stretches your lips. 

You can see Jacob’s brown eyes and curly hair in front of you. You blink, your thumb leaves his mouth to be replaced by your lips. There, the kiss starts slowly, like you want to explore his mouth, get familiar with its shape, tastes and feel.

But quickly, his hands get lost on your body, he grabs your waist, pulls you closer to him. Your lips part, you breathe in the same air as him, and your tongue pokes in. You know you’re not supposed to kiss with tongue, it’s an unspoken rule in the movie industry. But the kiss needs to be passionate, and Jacob doesn’t seem to mind as he kisses back the same. Then, everything speeds up. You get pinned to the wall forcefully, and a soft gasp leaves your mouth as he steps back. You blink.

Jacob’s brown eyes are now a dark green, almost black. His curly hair is no more, it’s now straight, short, but long enough to be tossed to the side and pulled if necessary. And instead of a hairless chin, there’s a delicious copper color scruff on the lower part of his face.

“Jensen…” You can’t help but moan, all air exiting your lungs.

That was when your phone decided to ring, bringing you back to reality. Startled, you sat up quickly and looked around. Another ding reminded you where you were and what was happening, so you rushed to the table to grab your phone. 

The screen lit up with unread texts and your heart sank with anxiety. They were all from Jensen.

We need to talk

Meet me on set now

Stress and fear were beating strong in your head when you arrived on the dark, empty set. Out of breath from having run there, you bent down, trying to get oxygen into your lungs. You’d been so worried about what your director wanted, you’d left without thinking about the kind of things most humans would have. Like taking your phone with you, instead of setting it back down on the table and bolting.

“Took you some time,” a rough, angry voice said in the distance. Since the set was closed for the night, there weren't many lights on. It took you some time to figure out where he was, and when you finally reached him, you froze in front of him, your mind going blank.

Jensen was sitting on the metallic stairs that were part of the structure to adjust the spotlights on the ceiling. His right arm was leaning on the railing, his fist tensed and resting near his chin. His other arm was draped over his knee. He was still wearing the same clothes, the baseball hat slightly askew on his head, but this time it wasn't hiding his eyes.

There was a dark fire burning in them.

“I’m so sorry,” you hastened to say, still out of breath. You hadn't noticed you still had the lollipop in your mouth until you spoke. When you realized, you hurried to take it out and hide it behind your back.

“Sorry. You’re sorry a lot,” Jensen said, still not moving from his position. A painful lump formed in your throat at how intimidating he was and how hard it was to look him in the eyes. You opened your mouth to apologize again, but he was faster. Now on his feet, Jensen sprang quickly towards you.

By reflex, you lowered your head immediately. But that seemed to annoy him, as you could hear him clicking his tongue disapprovingly above you. It made you want to be even smaller.

“You have no idea,” he scoffed, and you fought the need to lift your head and look at him to get answers. “No idea what you’re doing.” Like a predator, he started circling your frame. Whenever he looked, it burned and left goosebumps on your skin.

“I…don’t understand.” You swallowed hard and bit your lip anxiously.

“This.” His voice stopped in front of you. The tone he used for that single word managed to make you stop breathing and the lollipop fell from your hand. “How you bite your lips when you’re shy or anxious. How you play with your hair, your eyes wide and clueless. How you always have a finger in your mouth.” 

As he was speaking, you felt something on your chin that forced you to lift your head. You followed the movement without any resistance and ended up meeting his eyes. God, your legs got so wobbly, you nearly collapsed at his feet. 

“How you never look me in the eyes and always keep your head bent submissively." 

Jensen let go of your chin, but you didn’t move. As though in a trance, you kept staring, your lips parted and your eyes teary. But it was not because you were sad or afraid. You were simply, and completely, lost in him. 

“You’re so innocent, it’s insane. You ran here immediately, when I asked you to, didn't even bother putting on pants.” Each of his words were slow, like he wanted you to understand them perfectly.

His last sentence brought you back to earth and you broke eye contact to look down and see what you were wearing. Shame burned like a slap in your face when you realized he was right.

You were still dressed for sleep. You were still wearing your version of pajamas - just an oversized shirt and panties.

Crap. Fuck.

You were about to apologize, your head still bowed, when you realized you were looking at something you'd seen before.

It was dark in the studio. But there was no mistaking it. The bump you'd seen earlier, pushing out the front of his jeans, was back. 

It took some time for his words to make their way into your brain. After all, like he said, you were acting innocent, naive, a bit slow, even.

But not stupid. 

You'd finally done the math in your mind, and figured things out. When you lifted your head again, it was to meet his eyes. 

And this time, you didn’t look away.

“I’m turning you on,” you said on an exhale, the truth of the situation sending waves of heat down your body. No words left his mouth, but you didn’t need to hear his answer. The way his face darkened, his eyes roaming your body, was his way of telling you that you were right, and that he felt no shame because of it. 

“I didn’t think you had the guts to say it out loud.” Jensen said as he took a step closer to you. By reflex, you stepped back, your eyes still not leaving his.

“I don’t…do it on purpose, I’m sorry,” you offered, stepping back again as he moved closer to you. 

All you wanted in that moment was to let him do whatever he wanted to you. You wanted to live out everything you'd imagined all those nights when you couldn’t sleep because you were thinking too much about him. But still, something inside you was holding back.

“Exactly,” he answered, lowering his head. You could barely see his eyes under the hat. He kept walking towards you and you kept walking backwards until you ended up moving beyond the lights to a spot that was so dark by contrast, that all you could see was an abstract, scary shade advancing towards you. 

“You don’t even do it on purpose.” He continued. His voice sounded closer than he looked, so you stepped back quicker.

“I’m sorry,” you said again, and finally, you were in another pool of light. 

But he wasn’t.

Glancing all around you, you strained your eyes, trying to see through the dark areas of the stage, but it was impossible with the strong light shining down on you. All you could see was your feet, and the area just to your left, where the set was still decorated for the bedroom scene you hadn't been able to get through.

Having been too focused on figuring out where Jensen was coming from in the darkness around you, you hadn’t immediately noticed where he was leading you.

“You need to pay more attention, Y/n. And realise how much of a fucking tease you are.”

His voice echoed all around you, so of course, you stepped back towards the light, the whole situation making you feel equally scared and incredibly horny. 

“I’m sorry!” You repeated, biting your lips, your hand near your mouth like somehow, biting every part of your body could help you. 

That was when your back hit a wall. Or, at least, you thought it was a wall at first. Had to be. But then, you could feel it move behind you, rising and falling. The warmth of it hit next, and finally, the soft breath lifting your hair with each exhale. 

“Stop. Being. Sorry.”

Your whole body froze as you felt how tense his body was behind you. The tension was so strong, it was overpowering the room, and it was controlling you. Without thinking, you melted into his body, and your whole demeanor changed. “Why don’t you make me, Mister Ackles?”

A growl answered your challenge. “I knew it.”

And just like that, you were done resisting.

Hands landed on your hips, fingers digging into the skin barely covered by your shirt. He spun you around in his arms so you were facing him. You placed both hands on his chest, and barely lifting your head, you looked up teasingly through your lashes. “Are you done talking now?”

“I knew you were a fucking tease.” 

And with that, a smile stretched across Jensen's lips. But you couldn’t admire it for very long, because within a second of that smile, his mouth was on yours for a breathtaking kiss. You felt the air leave your lungs as you kissed him back immediately. 

His hands gripped your hips impossibly tight, before he let go to slip them under your shirt, his fingers immediately caressing your skin, discovering the new territory. He touched you everywhere, exploring your body as though he couldn't get enough. 

After a few moments of admiring you with his touch, his hands dropped back to your ass, and he squeezed it. Still kissing you, Jensen couldn’t use words, but you felt how he exhaled against your mouth, the way his chest rose and fell heavily, his hands almost shaking on your body. 

He was holding back.

Breaking the kiss, Jensen placed his forehead on yours and let a sigh escape his lips.

“We… We shouldn’t do that…”

“Do what,” you panted. You couldn't decide if you wanted to stare at his mouth or stay caught in his gaze, “we’re already doing it.”

“We can’t…fuck, we can't be caught,” he insisted. His mouth was saying one thing, but his body was saying the complete opposite as he pressed himself even closer to you, his hands tightening their grip on your ass cheeks.

“We won’t get caught if we stay quiet.” Brushing your teeth against his lower lip, you stepped forward forcing him to step back until his legs met the bed. The same bed you had to do your sex scene on. What an irony. 

“So, if you could stop talking and fuck me already, it would be done faster.”

Hearing those words from your lips seemed to turn a switch in Jensen. If he hadn't been completely sure at first about what you were doing, now all hesitations and worries were gone. You didn’t think it was possible, but his eyes grew darker, you could see pure hunger lurking in his pupils as he looked you up and down. And without delay, Jensen let his hands slip under your shirt, pulling it over your head and leaving you standing in front of him in only your panties.

No words left his mouth as he continued to admire you, and you felt a boost of confidence rising in you. It had been so long since someone looked at you that way, with so much need and desire. Indeed, you weren't sure if anyone ever truly had. 

It felt good, freeing, to feel sexy and desired by a man such as him. You felt like you had all the power in the world. If you wanted, you were sure you could make him kneel in front of you, and that was an exciting thought.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Jensen growled, his eyes not getting enough of you. His hands were already in your underwear, trying to get rid of that last piece of clothing separating him from the full view of you.

“I know.” You said in response to his compliment.

It was out of your mouth before you could think twice about it. Never before had you felt so confident in yourself. It felt so good. 

You nodded towards him. “Now. I believe I’m the only one naked.”

“Honey, you’re not naked yet,” He said with a smirk before his hands tore apart your underwear. You gasped, surprised at his strength, and your shyness returned for only a brief moment. 

“God. If only you knew how bad I’ve been wanting this." he groaned.

One blink. Two blinks. You were back, focused, confident. You were hot, he desired you, just like you desired him. “Then, show me.” One finger pointed towards him, you pressed on his chest to push him softly. Jensen let himself fall back on the bed and looked up at you.

“Undress,” you commanded.

With eagerness, Jensen removed the baseball hat, throwing it somewhere into the dark surrounding you. Your eyes didn’t leave him once as he pulled his clothes off piece by piece tossing them to pile up on the floor around you, until there were none left. And just as he'd admired you earlier, you stared at him, slowly absorbing all of him.

To say he was beautiful was a weak description. Sexy wasn’t even a strong enough word to describe how he looked. He was all muscles, especially his upper torso; his shoulders and arms were thick and round with muscle. A bit lower, his stomach was soft, but you could see the shades of a six pack moving beneath. And below that, resting up between thick thighs, his cock was begging for attention.

“Wow,” you couldn’t help but stare a little too long. He was big, and just imagining him inside of you had you closing your thighs together and clenching around nothing.

“Come here.” He said, his voice soft, but deep.

Jensen clearly couldn’t wait for you to do as he asked, because he grabbed your wrist to make you move forward. You placed a knee on either side of his hips and sat down on his thighs, soaking them in the process. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet. All for me?” His face was hidden against your throat and you shivered, goosebumps spreading on your body as his beard created a delicious burn on your skin. He nibbled your flesh, kissed it and marked it with his teeth. 

All you could do as he touched you everywhere with his mouth and hands was to whimper. It was so hot, your head was spinning, you felt him everywhere, like you were slowly becoming one with him. “Fuck, please,” you quickly begged. 

“Please what?” His lips curled up against your skin, his hands on your ass cheeks inviting you to grind against his thighs. You moaned again, your head thrown back to give him more access to your throat. “Tell me, what do you want?”

“Fuck,” you croaked out, your hips moving on your own now. Grinding felt good, but it wasn’t enough. It could barely scratch that itch, all you were doing was wetting his thighs more and more, and that was very humiliating. You were soaked. It didn’t help that you were straddling both his thighs, so nothing was pressed hard enough against your core. As you expressed your frustration with a whine, your body showed the same frustration by slowing down.

“What’s up baby,” Jensen whispered against your ear, his warm breath sending more shivers down your neck. “Can’t get off?” 

You answered him by stopping completely, your breathing fast and irregular. “You have to tell me. Tell me what you want?” He chuckled and suddenly, you were a few centimeters higher, something strong pressing against your core. 

A whimper of surprise left your lips as you understood; Jensen had lifted one of his legs, his foot resting on the bed frame. It allowed you to feel it now, feel the pressure, feel him between your legs. To thank him, you kissed his neck and immediately resumed your movements.

Your teeth sank into his flesh just in time to silence your voice. In this position, grinding his leg felt divine. It pressed at just the right spot, and since you'd already soaked his thigh, you could move easily. Your hips rolled without you even thinking about it, you chased it, the high, the peak, the pleasure, but it could only build up more and more and more… without getting that little explosion you were looking for.

And quickly, you were whining again.

“Don’t forget what I said,” Jensen’s voice sounded against your ear again, so rough you nearly froze. 

In your current state of your mind, with a climax that didn’t wanna come no matter how much you chased it, it was hard for you to pay attention and listen to what he was saying. It was hard to even think. But finally, you remembered that Jensen had ordered you to tell him what you wanted.

“Wanna feel you inside me, please Jensen, please, fuck me,” you begged, your voice almost pathetic, you needed it so badly. You kept begging, kissing his neck, trying everything to get what you wanted.

“I love it when you beg me.”

You couldn’t stop moving now, your hips went back and forth on his thigh relentlessly. You lost track of time. It felt like you were on his thighs, begging to be fucked, for hours now. So close but yet, so far from your release.

As you were focused on moving your hips and chasing your climax, everything moved at the same time. You were back on both his thighs, and as you ground forward again, you moved further up on his body, which had you…grinding against his cock.

The sensation was completely different. It was smaller, but his cock slid perfectly between the lips of your pussy and pressed on your clit just the right way. Jensen was half laying down to allow you this position, he was resting on his elbows, his dark eyes admiring the view and your pathetic attempts to cum. Now that you were on his cock, you felt a surge of heat pool between your legs. With this new sensation, you became even more desperate to get him inside you. He was so close.

As though reading your thoughts, Jensen only allowed you to rub against his cock a couple of times before his fingers tightened into the flesh of your hips, manipulating your body like you were just a doll, so he could place you where you wanted to be the most. 

One of his hands then left your hips, but you barely noticed it as you continued grinding down against his cock. Suddenly you felt something big pressed at your entrance. But you were so wet, it slipped inside you with almost no resistance. A loud moan left your mouth, surprise and pleasure mingling as you were impaled on his cock, letting gravity bury him to the hilt inside of you.

“Oh fuck!” You bit your lips, feeling so full it almost hurt. “You’re so big!” Pressing a hand to your lower stomach, you felt the shape of his cock under your fingers.

“I’m not all the way in yet.” Jensen said, his voice tight.

Your eyes widened, you had no time to prepare yourself before Jensen shifted slightly and pressed down on your hips, forcing his cock even deeper inside you. He pressed until you were flesh to flesh with him, until he was completely sheathed inside of you. Your vision got blurry immediately; it was too much and not enough at the same time. Your breathing cut off at the same time a long moan was about to leave your mouth.

When you got back your sight, you looked down at the man under you and finally noticed why you couldn’t breathe. A big, warm hand was placed on your mouth, skillfully muffling the sound of your moans.

“As much as I would love to hear you scream," a smirk stretched his lips and Jensen narrowed his eyes. “I can’t let anyone catch us. And you’re awfully loud for a shy, innocent lil girl, huh?”

You wanted to talk back so bad, but even if you didn’t have the hand on your mouth, you wouldn’t have been able to form a coherent sentence. Because the moment he said that, Jensen moved his hips up and your eyes rolled back in your head. God, it felt so good, even your thoughts were being fucked stupid. 

“Hmmm…” You moaned under his hand.

“Hmmm…” Jensen repeated. “You can bite me if you need. But do not make a sound. Understood?”

Removing his hand, Jensen waited for your answer. Your head was still floating on a cloud, so it took some time for you to understand his order. Mouth half open, you nodded, agreeing to whatever he wanted. As long as he fucked you. That was all you wanted, all you needed.

“Good girl.”

And that was exactly what you did. When Jensen lifted your hips to allow him some room to fuck up into you, you immediately hid your face against his neck and bit down on the soft spot between his shoulder and his throat. At first, his thrusts were slow as though he was testing you. You suspected it was either to make sure you would stay silent, or because he wanted to be sure you were not in pain. After all, he was so thick and big, he stretched you so much that you did feel like you might rip in two.

But when Jensen understood there was no need to worry, that you could stay quiet and that you could take all of him, he let go.

Picking up his speed to a devastating pace he fucked up into you, his hands still on your hips inviting you to slam down each time he was deep inside of you. And each time that happened, he hit your cervix with a beautiful pain that made you bite him harder, your nails digging into his back, anything to hold back your voice.

But you were losing the battle.

After a few minutes in that position, Jensen quickly pulled you off his cock. A pathetic whimper echoed in the room and you never understood it was you, making all those little noises.

“Hold on," Jensen said soothingly, "you’ll be more comfortable like this."

It was hard to fully understand what was happening, your mind was so fogged up with pleasure and all the sensations happening at the same time. But one moment, you were sitting on top of him, and the next you were laying on your stomach, a pillow beneath your cheek and your hips slightly raised.

You didn’t know what the purpose of the pillow was until he thrusted back inside of you, bottoming out immediately. In the new position, he had no trouble moving, and didn’t wait for you to bite into the pillow, grabbing on to it with all your might, before he began moving. 

Already, his cock was going in and out of your channel, so hard, so fast, your whole body was shifting and trembling with pleasure. And without realizing it, you were slamming back against him to feel him hit as deep as possible, just to feel that sharp, pleasure-filled pain you enjoyed so much before. 

You didn’t think it could be any better, but then…

Jensen’s voice was deep, rough. He wasn’t talking. He was breathing fast and didn’t hold back his pleasure, you could hear it. Groaning, moaning, swearing.

But for him, your pleasure was more important. He wanted to hear you, even if it was muffled against the pillow. One of his hands slid under your body and between your thighs until he found what he was looking for. And the moment he pressed on it, the moment he started rubbing your clit, the pleasure exploded. 

It was too much.

With his arm wrapped around your thigh, and his fingers pressing against your clit, Jensen couldn’t go as fast as he had been, but he kept thrusting slow and deep. His fingers played with your clit, brushed it and made quick circles around it until he found the right movement and rhythm that would make you come apart. When he found it, you could hear him chuckle. Even over your own moans and with a shrill sound pounding in your ears, you could still hear him. And what you heard was Jensen, in his deep, rough voice, ordering you to cum.

It was way too much for you.

Your orgasm had been building since you started, so when it finally popped, it was without warning. Your mind went blank, your eyes rolled back, and your body shook under him. It was so intense, you were sure there were a few seconds where you simply ceased to exist.

Nothing existed.

You finally came back to yourself just in time to feel Jensen pull out of you quickly, and then hot drops of something ran down your ass. Your hearing took some time to come back fully, and there was still the echo of something shrill when you turned your head back to look over your shoulder.

Jensen was on his knees between your legs, his hand on his half hard cock. There was cum dripping down his hand, but he didn’t seem to mind as his eyes were closed and his head bent back a little. His climax was probably as strong as yours.

It took some time to catch your breath. And then, the realization of what happened hit you like a ton of bricks. Panic seized you, you tried to get on your feet quickly but tripped and fell back on the bed.

“Hey, hey,” Jensen was immediately beside you, helping you lay back down on the bed. “Don’t get up too fast. That was fucking intense, you might still be light headed.” 

You shook your head. “I… I have to leave…” You tried to get up again, but Jensen stopped you. Not able to meet his eyes, you looked to the right, staring at nothing but the endless darkness of the set.

Jensen sighed and rubbed your arm softly. His hand was warm and it felt good against your skin. You didn’t feel it right now, but you knew you would be sore tomorrow. 

“Please, don’t leave.” 

Surprised to hear that, especially after what you just did, you turned your head and looked at him with big teary eyes. 

“I know what we did was not professional.” He said softly.

You nodded and sniffed, feeling yourself get all flustered the more you looked at him. But not because he was intimidating, his voice was gentle.

It was the softest he'd been since you'd started working with him.

You shook your head. “You’re my boss…we can’t…” 

“I know.” He agreed simply.

Feeling slightly better, you sat down but stayed on the bed. Since it was still hard to look at him, you stared at your hands and played with your fingers. 

“But Y/n…” 

You looked up at him again, feeling so many things at the same time. You were scared of what would happen now. Scared because all you wanted was to do it again. Scared, but also hopeful and good. You felt so good. The afterglow of the amazing sex was still there and very hard to ignore. 

“I meant it when I hired you. You are beautiful.” Jensen said with a soft smile.

A shy, answering smile appeared on your face at the compliment, but your eyes stayed sad. 

“That’s why, when I saw you," he continued, "I…I knew I'd finally found the lead for the movie. You were exactly how I pictured her. And when I made you audition, the joy I felt seeing that you could act? Well, was perfect."

"But…” Pausing, Jensen sighed again. He seemed at war with himself as he tried to explain. You took his hand in yours to encourage him to continue. 

“I started falling for you in a way I knew I shouldn’t.” He shrugged and looked away, his fingers playing with yours now. “And then came the sex scene and I was just. You were doing amazing, but I was so jealous. And pissed. Because I couldn’t help but feel aroused watching you make out. So out of both of us, it's really me that's not being professional. Your scenes were fine, I just…wanted to see you do them again and again. And I kept picturing me-”

“Jensen." You interrupted.

Your head was spinning with everything that was happening. What he just said - it was a confession. You had no idea how a man like him could fall for you, but you knew one thing. 

You were falling for him too.

“I don’t know what to do,” his hand left yours to be placed against his face in defeat. “I want you. But also, the movie…we can’t do that.”

“I…” You started, your heart beating nervously with what you were about to say. It could be a very bad idea, but for now, it seemed like the best. 

" We're almost done filming, and after the movie is complete, you won’t be my boss anymore, so…”

Jensen looked at you with interest in his eyes. “So…it wouldn't be…”

"...wrong." You finished for him. “And in the meantime, we could just call this…” You pointed to yourself and then to him, “...personal training?” 

You grinned playfully. “After all, you just helped me find my inner mistress. I think next time we shoot the scene will be a good one.”

Relief seemed to wash over Jensen’s face at your proposition. “You don’t need me to practice, you have lots of talent, Y/n. A lot.”

Heat invaded your face again at his wonderful compliments. You were not used to that “Not that good. So yeah, I’m gonna need that training. Unless you don’t want to?”

The moment you said that, his eyes grew two shades darker. “Oh, I do want to. Come on, let’s go to my trailer, we’ll be more comfortable…ah…rehearsing more of your scenes.”

“Alright. Let me just find my shirt, since you destroyed my panties.” Thinking about how he ripped the fabric apart made you clench your thighs, your face getting warmer.

“I don’t think you can wait that long,” Jensen said as he helped you get up on your feet. He grabbed the bed sheet to wrap it around you. “And neither can I.”

Forever taglist: @nitnat6245 @eevvvaa @wickedinspirations @fictional-affairs @awkward-and-indecisive @peachyaliien @katbratsupernaturalwhore

Jensen Ackles tag list: @sexyvixen7 @nitnat6245 @sacriceria @akshi8278 @thoughts-and-funnies @stixnstripesworld @nancymcl @jensendreamland  @fiftyshadesgrl @happyt0exist @deans-spinster-witch​

[lila-lou]

✨ His only exception - Pt. 27/? ✨

Summary: 12 months ago, Butcher went above and beyond to have you join his team. You had a simple office job at Supe Affairs. The same thing every day, working from 9 to 5 and watching Butcher and his team defeat one renegade after another. One evening, however, something changed.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, angst, fluff, soft Ben

Word Count: 5637

A/N: This is part 27 of “His only exception”.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

“You just say that because of the baby”, you sobbed.

Ben’s heart sank as your words pierced through him, your pain echoing in his own chest. He reached out to gently wipe away your tears, his touch tender yet filled with a silent plea.

“That’s not true”, he said, his voice filled with earnestness. “I fell in love with you long before this baby was even a possibility”.

You looked at him, your tear-streaked face reflecting a mixture of doubt and longing.

Ben continued, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “I remember the first time I saw you at that supe affairs event. Your smile lit up the entire room, and your voice sounded like the most beautiful melody I’d ever heard. I knew then that I had to have you by my side. I rejoined Butcher only on the condition that he accepts you into the team, because I knew it was the only way I could be close to you”.

He paused, his eyes locked on yours, willing you to believe him. “I wanted you, (Y/N). I wanted you from the moment I laid eyes on you”.

Ben's voice cracked with emotion as he continued, his words pouring out in a torrent of sincerity. "I love you, (Y/N), more than anything in this world. You're the best thing that ever happened to me, the purest and happiest part of my life".

More tears welled up in your eyes as he spoke, his vulnerability laid bare before you. "I know I haven't always been the best, and I've made mistakes, but I swear to you, (Y/N), I will do whatever it takes to make things right. I can't imagine my life without you, and I'll spend every day proving to you just how much you mean to me".

He reached out, taking your hands in his, his grip gentle yet firm. "Please, (Y/N), believe me when I say that I love you. I'll do anything to make us work".

You looked into his eyes, seeing the depth of his love and sincerity reflected back at you.

As the weight of your emotions pressed down on you, your heart ached with a mixture of longing and fear. You couldn't hold back any longer, the intensity of your feelings overwhelming you.

With tears still glistening in your eyes, you sank down to meet Ben on his knee. Without hesitation, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his.

A wave of relief washed over you both, melting away the tension and uncertainty that had clouded your minds for weeks. In that moment of intimacy, you felt a sense of closeness and connection that transcended words.

Ben's arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as if to assure himself that you were real, that you were here with him.

As Ben murmured softly against your lips, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "Let's get you to the couch".

With that, he rose to his feet, effortlessly lifting you into his arms as he carried you towards the living room. Despite the weight of the emotions that hung heavy in the air, his touch filled you with a sense of security and warmth.

You nestled against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek as he navigated through the surroundings of your new home. With each step, you felt a sense of calm wash over you, the tension of the past weeks slowly melting away.

As he set you down on the couch, you couldn't help but marvel at the strength and tenderness in his touch.

Ben leaned back, allowing you to cuddle against him, his arm wrapped protectively around you, he pulled a blanket snugly around the two of you.

As Ben looked down at you, he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. His lips brushed against your skin with a feather-light touch.

You closed your eyes, savoring the moment as his affectionate gesture filled you with a sense of peace and security.

With a soft sigh of contentment, you nestled even closer to him. It felt so normal. As if you had never been apart.

As the weight of the day's events pressed down on you, fatigue washed over you like a tidal wave. Within seconds, you fell asleep.

Meanwhile, Ben remained awake, his gaze fixed on your sleeping form. With one hand gently cradling your head against his chest, he listened intently to the soft, rhythmic thud of your unborn child's heartbeat. It was a sound filled with promise and hope, a reminder of the new life growing within you.

As he felt the gentle rise and fall of your breath against him, Ben couldn't help but feel a surge of love and protectiveness swell within him. He would do everything in his power to keep you and your unborn child safe.

Two hours later, you stirred awake. Blinking sleepily, you shifted slightly in Ben's arms, feeling the comforting weight of his embrace loosening around you.

Ben, who had been sitting motionless for the past two hours, shifted slightly as you stirred, his gaze softening as he looked down at you. Carefully, he brushed a stray strand of hair from your face.

"How are you feeling?", he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern as he watched you slowly come back to wakefulness.

As you thought for a moment about how you felt, you rubbed your eyes and looked up at Ben. "Hungry", you mumbled softly, your stomach grumbling in agreement.

Ben chuckled, glancing at his phone to check the time. "You better not want me to cook something", he teased lightly. "because it will probably be disgusting". He grinned at you before suggesting, "How about we order some pizza instead? My stomach seems to agree with that idea".

You nodded in agreement, while Ben's gaze lingered on you, his eyes unable to look away. He watched as you stretched, his heart swelling. The past few weeks without you near him had been unbearable, and now that you were here, in his arms, he couldn't help but feel a sense of completeness wash over him.

As you and Ben continued to cuddle on the couch after eating, the soft glow of the TV illuminating the room, you couldn't help but notice Ben's gaze lingering on you more than on the movie.

With a playful grin, you teasingly nudged him. "Enjoying the movie?", you teased, your voice filled with amusement as you caught him staring at you.

Ben chuckled sheepishly, his cheeks flushing slightly. "Uh, yeah, of course", he replied, his tone slightly defensive as he tried to play it off. But his eyes betrayed him, lingering on you with an intensity that spoke volumes.

You wanted to say another teasing comment, but before you could say anything, Ben silenced you with his lips, his kiss soft yet filled with a longing that mirrored your own.

Caught off guard, you melted into his embrace.

Ben gently pushed you back, he hovered above you, his eyes locked with yours as he positioned himself between your legs. The air crackled with anticipation, and a shiver ran down your spine as you felt the weight of his presence above you.

Ben's desire burned hot within him, his longing to kiss you and show you how much he missed you almost overwhelming. Yet, he held himself back, not wanting to scare you away again. Despite the undeniable arousal pulsing through him, he restrained himself, his gaze lingering on you with a mix of longing and restraint.

He wanted you, but more than that, he wanted you to feel safe and comfortable with him. So, he remained still, his throbbing arousal pressing against your clothed body as he continued to look at you, his restraint a testament to his promises.

Feeling his erection pressing against you, you couldn't help but bite your lip, your breath hitching as desire surged through you. With a subtle movement, you pressed your hips forward, seeking some friction, a soft moan escaping your lips as you felt yourself getting wet almost instantly.

With a teasing grin, you looked up at Ben. "Is that for me?", your voice low and sultry, your fingers trailing lightly along his chest, feeling his heartbeat quicken beneath your touch. "Or maybe you're just happy to see me", you grinned. "Either way, I'm flattered". You lean in closer, your lips just inches from his, a mischievous smile dancing on your lips. "But you know, actions speak louder than words…"

Ben's amused expression breaks into a chuckle as he raises an eyebrow. "Oh, is that so?", he responds, his voice laced with amusement. "Well, I guess actions it is then". With a smirk, he leans in closer, his lips hovering just above yours, teasingly close.

As you felt Ben's breath against your lips and his arousal pressing a bit harder against your heat, a shiver ran down your spine. You couldn't help but arch your body closer to his, craving the contact you both desired. Every nerve in your body tingled with excitement as you waited for him to make the next move, your heart racing with anticipation.

You couldn't contain your impatience any longer as you begged Ben to finally touch you. Your voice was laced with desperation, your body trembling. "Please, Ben", you pleaded, unable to hide the urgency in your voice. "I need you to touch me. It's been way too long".

As Ben leaned in, his lips soft against yours, a surge of desire washed over you. His movements were deliberate and enticing, his hips grinding against yours in a slow rhythm. With each movement, his bulge rubbed against your pussy in the most tantalizing way, eliciting soft whimpers from your lips as you melted into the kiss. The intensity of the moment left you breathless, your body arching against his as you yearned for more.

But you couldn't endure his teasing any longer. You pushed Ben back until he sat again, straddling his knees, and attempted to get rid of his supe suit. With determined yet fumbling fingers, you struggled with the fastenings, your cheeks flushing with both frustration and excitement.

Ben watched you with a mixture of amusement and desire, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Need a hand there?", he teased, his voice laced with amusement as he enjoyed the sight of you grappling with the suit.

You shot him a playful glare, your determination only fueled by his teasing. "I've got this", you retorted.

As the intensity of the moment grew, you couldn’t find any zippers or buttons, and you groaned in frustration. Ben couldn’t help but tease you further, his hands firm on your hips as he leaned in closer.

“Seems like you’re struggling there, sweetheart”, he grinned. “Sure you don’t need any help?”.

You huffed in mock annoyance, shooting him a pissed glare. “I swear, if you don’t stop teasing me, I’ll never get this fucking suit off”, you retorted.

Ben leaned back, a wide grin spreading across his face as he watched your frustrated attempts to remove the suit. Despite your annoyance, he couldn’t help but find the sight incredibly endearing.

“I’ll stop teasing, I promise”, he said, his tone filled with amusement. “But only if you let me help you with that suit”.

You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress a smile. “Fine”, you relented, a hint of laughter in your voice.

You leaned back, watching with fascination as Ben effortlessly opened his suit, his movements smooth and practiced. His amused gaze never left your face, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth at the affectionate look in his eyes.

He shrugged off his suit, revealing the toned muscles beneath. You couldn't tear your gaze away.

"Someone's been hitting the gym", a smirk dancing on your lips. "Looking pretty buff there, Superman".

Ben's cheeks flushed slightly at your words, a rare hint of bashfulness crossing his usually confident demeanor. "Had enough time".

As Ben pulled you close, kissing you softly, his hands wandered to your asscheeks, gripping them firmly as he stood up with you straddling his hips. You wrapped your arms around his neck, melting into his embrace as the kiss deepened.

While Ben carried you towards the bedroom, his lips brushed against yours with each step. "Where are we going?".

He murmured against your lips, his voice husky with desire, "After all these weeks, I want to take my time with you. Not just fuck you on that couch".

You smiled at his words, feeling a surge of warmth coursing through you as he entered the bedroom, setting you gently on the bed.

Ben slipped out of his pants, leaving him in just his boxers. You eagerly discarded your clothes, tossing them aside with impatience.

Chuckling softly, Ben teased, "Someone's in a hurry, huh?".

You shot him a playful glare, a smirk playing on your lips. "Can you blame me?", you retorted.

Ben grinned, his eyes filled with desire mirroring yours as he climbed back onto the bed, hovering over you with an intense gaze. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours as he murmured, "I missed you so much, (Y/N)".

"I missed you too", you whispered, your voice barely above a breath as you reached up to cup his cheek.

As your lips finally met again, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you lost in the intensity of the moment. The soft brush of your lips against his ignited a fiery passion that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long. Ben's erection throbbed painfully hard against his boxers.

Every touch, every caress was electric, sending shivers down your spine as you melted into each other's embrace. The room was filled with the sound of heavy breathing and soft moans.

Ben's lips trailed down your chest before he pulled down both cups of your bra, revealing your breasts to his gaze. The sensation of his warm breath against your skin sent a rush of arousal coursing through you.

You moaned softly as his lips found their way to one of your nipples, his tongue flicking gently against the sensitive flesh, sending waves of pleasure washing over you. His touch was both gentle and insistent. Fuck, he loved women. And he sure did love you.

Amidst the symphony of your soft moans, Ben struggled to maintain his composure, his own arousal reaching a fever pitch with each sound that escaped your lips. He couldn't help but respond to your pleasure, his own desires burning hotter with each passing moment.

"Fuck, I missed hearing you like this", he murmured huskily.

Kissing down your Body, Ben's lips pressed gently against your flat stomach, his kisses tender as he paused to look up at you. His eyes held a mixture of awe and adoration.

The thought of you carrying his child filled him with an overwhelming sense of joy, his heart swelling with emotion at the thought of the life growing inside you. In that moment, he felt a bond with you unlike anything he had ever experienced before.

As he continued to pepper your skin with soft kisses, his love for you deepened even further.

Ben's fingers slowly pulling down your panties, revealing how wet you already were. A soft groan escaped his lips as he felt the slick warmth between your thighs.

But you were impatient, the desire burning hot within you, and you didn't even want to wait for foreplay.

"Please, Ben", you pleaded. "I need you… now".

Ben looked up at you, he was already excited to taste you again, hoping that you would let him indulge in eating you out for just a few minutes.

His gaze pleaded with you, silently urging you to give in.

You met his pleading gaze. With a slight nod, he indicated towards your pussy, and you let your head fall back into the cushions, nearly rolling your eyes at him, before pressing your hips gently upwards, bringing his lips tantalizingly close to your core.

Ben's movements were slow and deliberate, his tongue tracing lazy circles against your sensitive flesh. Each touch was filled with tenderness and passion, as if he wanted to savor every moment. His lips moved against you with a gentle rhythm, eliciting soft gasps and moans from your lips. You could feel the intensity of his desire in every caress, every flick of his tongue.

You couldn't help but arch your back, your fingers tangling in his hair as you urged him closer. His movements were deliberate, each stroke of his tongue sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. With each gentle flick and teasing kiss, he brought you to the brink of ecstasy.

"Fuck! Ben", you moaned. "Don't stop, please".

His only response was a low growl of approval, his lips and tongue continuing their assault on your soft flesh. Every touch, every caress was like a symphony of pleasure, building you up higher and higher until you felt like you were on the edge of oblivion.

And then, just when you thought you couldn't take it anymore, he brought you crashing over the edge, his lips and tongue working magic as you tumbled into blissful release.

"Fuck.. Ben!", you cried out, your body trembling with the force of your climax.

He lifted his head, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he looked up at you. "Told you", he said smugly.

As Ben stripped out of his boxers, his erection sprung free, hard and eager. You tried to catch your breath while you watched him, giving himself a few pumps, his hand moving smoothly over his length, before he positioned himself between your legs. With a teasing grin, he let his cock slip through your slick folds a few times, coating himself in your arousal.

You gasped at the sensation, the friction sending shivers of pleasure down your spine. Your body was already buzzing. With a soft whimper, you urged him closer, desperate for the connection only he could provide.

"Want it nice and slow, baby?", Ben's voice was low, his eyes dark with desire as he looked down at you.

Instead of answering his question, you kept rubbing your hips against his.

"You're awfully impatient tonight", Ben teased, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he felt your hips grinding against his.

"Ready?", Ben murmured as he positioned himself at your entrance, his gaze locked with yours, seeking permission.

As you nodded, your hands instinctively cupped Ben's biceps, bracing yourself for the initial discomfort that always accompanied his size.

"Just relax", Ben murmured soothingly. "I'll be more careful this time".

As he eased himself inside you, inch by inch, he reminded himself to go slow, to be gentle. He knew you needed it that way this time, even though it was difficult for him to restrain himself. He exhaled heavily, his muscles tense with the effort of holding back.

Halfway in, you winced as Ben brushed against your G-spot a way too hard. He immediately stopped.

"Sorry," Ben murmured and shifted carefully to hit another angle. Inching forward again, his hands rested beside your head, his biceps tensing underneath your touch.

"No… I'm sorry for being so whiny, it's just… been a while". Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"None of that", Ben murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, but his words carried a weight of reassurance. His struggle was evident in his tone, a battle between his desire to please you and his own primal urges.

As Ben bottomed out, filling you completely, you both gasped in unison, the sensation overwhelming in its intensity. Your eyes squeezed shut, lost in the moment, and so did his.

Ben stilled, giving you a moment to adjust to the fullness.

"You okay?", he murmured softly as he gazed down at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort.

You could feel every inch of him buried deep inside you, stretching you in the most delicious way. His breaths were heavy against your skin, as he fought to maintain control.

Your body pulsed with sensation, every nerve ending alive with the intensity of the moment. You nodded slightly in response to his question, your breath hitching as you adjusted to the fullness of him inside you.

Ben's hand gripped your thigh and guided it against his hips. You felt him sinking even deeper inside you, hitting spots you didn't even know existed. A loud moan escaped your lips as pleasure surged through your body.

Ben began to move inside you, his thrusts slow and deliberate, each one sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. As he buried his face in the crook of your neck, you felt his warm breath against your skin, his lips trailing soft kisses along the curve of your shoulder. The intimacy of the moment filled you with a sense of overwhelming closeness.

As Ben's hips rocked against yours, his movements were deliberate and controlled, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Your breath hitched with every stroke, your fingers digging into his back as you pulled him closer.

Your moans mingled with his, filling the room with the sounds of your passion. With each movement, you felt yourself drawing closer to the edge, your body responding eagerly to his touch.

Unable to hold back any longer, you met each of his thrusts with equal fervor, your desire for each other burning hotter with each passing moment. It had been weeks since you had last been together like this, and the pent-up longing between you only intensified the pleasure of the moment.

With every thrust, Ben poured all his emotions into the rhythm, each movement a testament to his love and desire for you.

He continued to move inside you with such passion and intensity, it didn't take long for you to reach the edge. The overwhelming sensations washed over you like a tidal wave, carrying you to the peak of ecstasy with an intensity that left you breathless.

As Ben felt himself reaching the brink, he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered, "I can't hold back anymore".

With a guttural groan, he released himself deep inside you, his body shuddering with the force of his release. You felt the warmth of his cum flooding you.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, Ben collapsed against you, his breath ragged as he held you close. In that moment, there was nothing else in the world but the two of you, bound together by the intensity of your love and desire.

After a while, Ben let himself sink beside you, pulling you close in a tender embrace. His gaze softened as he looked down at you, his fingers gently brushing a strand of hair out of your face. In the quiet intimacy of the moment, you felt a sense of peace wash over you, as if all the worries and uncertainties of the world had momentarily faded away, leaving only the warmth of his presence beside you.

Ben's voice was soft as he spoke, his words carrying a weight of sincerity and vulnerability. "I know I've hurt you before", he began, his gaze searching yours for understanding. "And I swear, I'll never hurt you again. I'll do whatever it takes to keep you happy".

He paused, struggling to find the right words. "I may not always get it right", he admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty, "but I'll try, (Y/N). I'll try my damnedest to be the man you deserve".

His eyes bore into yours, silently pleading for forgiveness and acceptance, his heart laid bare before you.

Ben's gaze drifted down to your belly, a mixture of wonder and apprehension flickering in his eyes. He hesitated for a moment before turning his attention back to you.

"Can I?", he asked softly, his hand hovering uncertainly over your stomach, his touch gentle as if afraid to disturb something fragile.

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips as you reached out to take his hand, guiding it to rest against your abdomen. "Of course", you whispered, the warmth of his hand against your skin sending a comforting shiver down your spine.

Ben's gaze remained concentrated, his hand resting gently on your stomach as he focused on feeling the faint heartbeat within. You watched him, marveling at the sight of his expression, a genuine smile gracing his lips.

"I can't believe it", you whispered, the reality of the situation still sinking in. "I'm pregnant".

Ben's smile widened, his eyes never leaving your belly. "Yeah", he murmured softly.

But as he studied your expression, his smile faltered and a hint of concern flickering in his eyes. Despite his own excitement, he couldn't help but notice the lack of joy reflected in your face. His lips formed into a straight line as he contemplated whether to voice his thoughts, but the fear of your potential response held him back. Instead, he remained silent.

As Ben's heart ached, he shifted his gaze back to your belly, using it as a shield to conceal the pain in his eyes. Lost in your own thoughts, you remained unaware of his reaction, your focus consumed by the weight of the situation and the uncertainty of the future. The silence between you stretched on, heavy with unspoken emotions and unaddressed concerns.

Before Ben could inquire about your thoughts, you rubbed your eyes, a gesture that didn't escape his notice.

"I'm tired", you mumbled softly, your voice tinged with exhaustion.

Ben nodded, his emotions swirling as he processed everything that had transpired. “Yeah, we should get some rest. We can talk more about this tomorrow”.

You nodded in agreement, feeling the weight of the day bearing down on you.

As Ben pulled you close to his chest, his lips brushed against the top of your head in a tender kiss, and you snuggled closer to him.

For a moment, the weight of the day seemed to lift as you nestled against him, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest lulling you into a peaceful slumber.

As you woke up the next day, you felt Ben's strong grip around your waist, almost bruising but not touching your stomach.

"Hey", you whispered sleepily, shifting a bit in his arms. "You need to loosen up a bit".

Your soft voice roused Ben from his slumber, and he blinked groggily, not entirely pleased at being awakened.

Struggling to breathe a bit under his tight hold, you gently nudged him again. "Ben, seriously", you murmured, your voice still heavy with sleep. "I need to fucking breathe".

Ben's grip relaxed immediately as he realized he had been holding you too tightly. "Sorry", he muttered, his voice thick with sleep. "Didn't mean to squeeze you like that".

As you turned to face him, you saw a look of genuine remorse on his face, and his arm instinctively pulled you back close to him. You couldn't help but feel a pang of concern as you thought about his recent episodes of uncontrolled strength.

"Yeah", you mumbled, snuggling closer to him. "You really need to get your strength in check. It's been a bit… unpredictable lately". You paused, your mind drifting to the times when his chest would inexplicably start glowing. "I mean, what if it happens again, but in a more serious situation?".

Ben let out a frustrated groan, his expression reflecting his annoyance as he leaned back, releasing his hold on you.

"I fucking know, okay?", he muttered, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I'll try to control it better. It's just… been a lot to handle lately".

You couldn't resist teasing him a bit, given his rare display of vulnerability.

"So… Is the big, tough superhero finally admitting he has flaws?", you teased, a playful glint in your eyes as you nudged him gently.

Ben's eyes snapped open, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he leaned in closer.

"Oh, you have no idea", he murmured teasingly, his voice low and husky. "Let me show you just how much control I have".

With a swift motion, he effortlessly lifted you and settled you on his lap, the undeniable hardness beneath you confirming his words.

You chuckled tiredly, feeling his hands gently caressing your hips, his thumbs brushing over your stomach in a soothing motion.

"I do kinda feel… off sometimes", Ben admitted quietly without meeting your gaze.

"Off how?", you asked softly, concern lacing your voice as you looked down at him.

Ben hesitated for a moment before speaking. "I don't know", he mumbled. "Ever since those four months of being captured… I just feel… different. Like I can't quite control everything as I used to… Like… it´s too much power for one person".

He sighed, his grip on your hips tightening slightly. "Look… I… just don´t want you to think I'm doing all of this on purpose".

You watched him intently, leaning down to cup his jaw affectionately before softly placing your lips on his.

"Mmm, maybe we should get the doctors at Vought to check you out along with me and the baby", you mumbled against his lips, your concern evident in your tone.

Ben rolled his eyes, but you could see a hint of reluctance in his expression. "Yeah, yeah, maybe", he replied nonchalantly, though you sensed there was more to his reaction than he let on.

Ben gently pushed you back upright, his gaze lingering on your flat belly as he contemplated your words.

"How are you feeling?", he asked softly.

You sensed the weight of his unspoken fears as he gazed at you, his eyes reflecting the turmoil of his thoughts. Despite his attempts to mask it, you could feel his anxiety radiating from him. He was fucking afraid that you would make a decision and not involve him.

"I'm… I don't know, Ben", you admitted, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "It's just… a lot to process. I never imagined… this".

You could sense Ben's fear and uncertainty, his emotions raw and palpable. It was evident that he was struggling to come to terms with the situation, his mind swirling with conflicting thoughts and emotions.

As you looked into his eyes, you saw the vulnerability beneath his facade of strength.

"I know, Ben", you whispered softly, reaching out to gently squeeze his hand. "It's a lot for both of us to take in. But we'll figure it out, okay?".

There was silence as Ben's thumbs just continued to brush over your stomach. You hesitated but then met his gaze again. “Did you meant what you said last night?”, you whispered. Ben knew exactly what you mean and groans again, eyes rolling.

His thumbs pausing their gentle caress. He sighed softly, a mixture of frustration and affection evident in his expression.

“Yeah, (Y/N), I meant it”, he admitted, his voice tinged with a hint of exasperation. “I love you, okay? And before you fucking start again, no… I’m not just saying that because of the baby”.

You couldn’t help but blush slightly as your lips twitched, feeling a warmth spreading in your belly at Ben’s words. His amused but slightly annoyed tone only added to the mix of emotions swirling inside you.

“Oh, great, now you’re blushing like a fucking little schoolgirl”, he teased, rolling his eyes playfully. “I swear, (Y/N), you’re impossible sometimes”.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it”, you replied, a teasing glint in your eyes. “Just making sure, you know?”.

Ben rolled his eyes again, but a small smirk played on his lips. “Yeah, well, now you know”, he muttered, his thumb resuming its gentle movements over your stomach.

As Ben’s phone rang, his expression shifted from one of contentment to annoyance. He glanced at the caller ID and sighed heavily before reluctantly answering.

“What?”, Ben barked into the phone, his tone curt and impatient.

Butcher’s voice came through loud and clear, dripping with irritation. “Where the hell are you? We’ve got a bloody meeting in ten minutes and you’re not here”.

Ben rolled his eyes, barely concealing his irritation. “I’ll be there when I damn well please, Butcher”, he retorted, his voice laced with hostility. “Don’t get your fucking panties in a twist”.

He ended the call with a sharp jab of his finger and let out an exasperated sigh.

You mumbled about having to see the doctor anyway, but Ben made it clear that he would join you for the appointment. He lifted you up from his hips to get up from the bed.

“I’m not letting you go there alone”, he stated firmly, his voice tinged with protectiveness. “Especially now that i know you’re carrying my child”.

You rolled your eyes at his words, but a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. There was something oddly endearing about Ben's protectiveness, even if it sometimes bordered on overbearing.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

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Part 28

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Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch@mimaria420@kaz11283@uncle-eggy@jackles010378@vxnilla-hxrddrugs @meowmeowyoongles@sarahgracej @zemosdarling228 @leila22rogers @mostlymarvelgirl@emily-winchester @blacknoirr @onlyangel-444@seasonofthenerd@staple-your-mouth@artemys-ackles@selfdestructionandrhum@mystic-mara @kat-nee

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Open Mic Night

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary:  Soldier Boy and the reader go to a bar on a double date with Hughie and Annie. This takes place beyond season three in alternate universe. Reader is a supe.  (I'm so bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Fluff, Age Difference, Protective Ben/ Soldier Boy, Established Relationship

Word Count: 3.9K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ just to be sure because this fic contains dude being super creepy and sleazy, swearing, mentions of sex, sexual innuendo, references to past sex, and Soldier Boy. 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. This is my first time writing for Soldier Boy, so please be gentle. 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.

Masterlist

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Music swung low and heavy over the crowded bar from the band on the stage that dominated the central wall of the building. Speakers stood like stoic watchmen, thumping and blasting the haunting music on each side of the stage. Spotlights stung the air, spewing colors of orange, yellow, and green onto the figures that writhed on stage.

It was open mic night. That much was inferred from the collection of mismatched people swarming the edge of the stage where a bouncer stood holding a black clip board.

Each one pushed and shoved, trying to shout over the death march ballad flowing from the lead singers mouth and threatening one another with musical instruments clutched in their hands.

The song is an odd choice. You thought to yourself noting the outfit of the lead singer. He was wearing a bright red and yellow pinstriped suit that clashed with bright pink hair that fell past his waist and was braided away from his face.

How does it not get caught in his guitar?

You were still standing just inside the doorway, staring beyond Hughie to watch the lead singer gyrate and writhe against the standing microphone.

You glance over at Ben. He’s hovering by your right elbow, mouth turned down in disgust, but even frowning he looks just as handsome as ever. His dark hair lies in soft waves over his brow, he trimmed his beard so that it’s more of a dusting over his cheeks and chin, he’s wearing a black t-shirt that makes his eyes a dangerous bright green and a pair of jeans slung low on his hips. Even without his suit he looks flawless, every bit the hero that people believed him to be.

“I don’t understand music nowadays.” Ben continues to stare at the lead singer. "It used to make sense."

“Isn’t he talented?” You laugh elbowing Ben in the side. “Aren’t you glad we let Annie pick the place?”

“I definitely am.” Hughie responds. “I think my life has been enriched by watching that man hump the microphone.”

“Oh definitely.” Annie adds.

“Do you think he’d sign my butt?” You ask enthusiastically. “I carry a sharpie with me at all times just for this possibility.”

“Y/n-“ Annie snorts.

“What?” Ben snaps, turning to look down at you. His eyes are narrowed in jealousy and confusion.

“I’m only kidding Gramps.” Your hand entwines with his. “You’re the only one who gets to see it.”

He doesn’t look pleased, but the nickname you assigned him when you first met often makes him angry.

"Don't fucking call me that." Ben mutters.

“You know you love it.” You whisper back.

“Ew. So don’t need that image-“ Hughie makes a face.

“I don’t need to hear it from you. When we all lived in that safe house and you and Annie had ‘alone time’ I wanted to wash my ears out with soap. Y’all could at least have gone to a room on the other side of the apartment, not to mention Annie took out the power every time.”

“You have super hearing Y/n.” Annie’s face flushes. “And you and Ben weren't exactly quiet either.”

"I won't apologize for that." You shrug.

Someone comes in the double doors behind you and jostles past you. You stumble into Ben’s chest, who steadies you with a hand on your waist. The man doesn't turn around to apologize, instead he continues to walk towards the giant wooden bar on the left side of the room.

You ignore the urge to haul him back by the back of the shirt and make him apologize and one look up at Ben lets you know that he's thinking the exact same thing.

Ben watches the man’s retreating figure murderously and opens his mouth, but before he yells something, you squeeze his hand. Ben's gaze drops to you, anger burning behind his green eyes.

“It’s okay. It’s busy and there’s a lot of people. It happens.” You whisper trying to bring him some comfort.

He wasn’t exactly thrilled about the double date. It wasn’t that he hated Hughie or Annie, you think it was because after a long day he’d rather spend time with you than keep up appearances. When Annie suggested it, it had seemed like a good idea but now standing here in the overcrowded bar it was overwhelming. Ben and you had been on dates just the two of you in a bar before, but it wasn’t nearly as loud or as crowded as this one. You spent the night in one of the quiet booths in the corner, his arm wrapped around you while you listened to the music coming from the juke box, music that Ben actually recognized. Sometimes you think he liked quiet restaurants more, where he could breathe, and relax in a booth next to you. You think being around too many people activated his PTSD.

Ben frowns, but tightens his hand on your hip.

Sometimes you thought that you being there helped. As much as Ben didn't like to admit his feelings, you noticed that his actions spoke more. The way that he let you hold on to his arm or the way that his hand often drifted to your waist when in public made you believe that Ben did depend on having you with him. Plus he never seemed to want to let you go out of the apartment alone. Even with something as mundane as grocery shopping, Ben would come with you. And despite him sighing each time you walked down an aisle and complaining under his breath, Ben wouldn't stay at the apartment when you told him to.

Plus there were the mornings when you woke up before him and noticed how he pulled you to him in his sleep or the mornings when he woke up first and didn’t push you away, instead he liked having your head on his chest watching your gentle breath.

However, the look in his eyes as he gazed around the room at the crowd was not calm or collected, it was bordering on manic. He looked almost like he wanted to pick you up and move you to the corner, caging you in and fighting off anybody who tried to get close to you.

“Hey we are going to go get drinks. Why don’t you guys find us a place to sit?” You say to Annie.

Maybe I need to talk to him alone.

“Sure.” She doesn’t sense Ben’s discomfort and pulls Hughie in the direction of an empty booth that lines the wall opposite the bar.

You gently lead Ben through the crowds, past the bar to a small alcove where the restrooms are.

“Are you okay?” You ask.

“Yeah?" Ben raises his eyebrow and you can imagine his thoughts.

Probably revolving around the idea that he's not a pussy and that he's not afraid of anything.

Sometimes you hated that Ben was so guarded and that his usual emotions circled around borderline toxic masculinity, annoyance, and anger. Well, until you started dating. At the beginning Ben had been nicer to you than anyone else, which meant those three emotions appeared less when you were around. But now, you were slowly coaxing him out of his tough exterior to get him to open up more, difficult, but not impossible.

You knew it was only a matter of time until he opened up more to you. In the few months you had been dating he was already doing better than when you first met- when there was a constant parade of women through the apartment and he tried his upmost to get in your pants. 

“Because if you’re not we can leave right now. I can tell Annie that I’m having bad cramps or something and we can go home. Get a pizza delivered or something? Watch one of your old films?” You look into his face, trying to read his expression, but Ben has mastered the art of hiding his emotions. An infuriating skill, because you prided yourself on being able to read people.

“I’m fine.”

“Ben-“

“I promise I’m fucking fine.” He snaps.  His broad figure blocks the view of the singer on stage who has begun to gyrate again.

You hoped the song would be over soon. 

Despite his tone, it didn't make you angry. You knew that he tended to slip into annoyance when he was afraid to tell you what he really thought.

He doesn’t look fine. His eyebrows are pulled down low over his eyes and his mouth is turned down in a frown.

“I’m serious. I won’t be mad if you just want to go home, just the two of us. Being out is supposed to be fun and if you’re not having fun-“

“I swear I’m having as much fucking fun as I can listening to terrible music.” He doesn’t smile.

You release his hand and your fingertips raise to brush back some of his dark locks that have fallen into his eyes. “I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I love you-“

 He sighs leaning into your touch.

“I know you think that you have to do this for me, but I’m okay with just going. I know you don’t like crowds or people.” You smile at him, putting as much love and comfort as you can into your tone.

“I’m okay y/n.”

You search his gaze for the lie, trying to uncover how he feels, but you find nothing. “Okay.”

You arch upwards to kiss him hoping that it will relieve some of the tension he was holding in his muscular shoulders.

To say it works is an understatement. As soon as your lips touch his, he backs you against the wall and continues to kiss you feverishly, his hand finding your waist.

I guess that’s one way to channel all that nervous energy.

Ben’s hand begins to sweep lower along your back to grab your butt and bring your leg up over his hip, holding you up against him so you don't have to stretch as far to kiss him. It makes you smile into his mouth, knowing that he was doing that for you, that he cared enough to make sure you were comfortable.

“Ben-“ You breathe.

“What?” He smirks at you. “Didn’t you want me to have a good time?”

“Well yes but-“

“You aren’t having a good time?”

“Ben-"

“No? I think I can make you have a good time, a few times before Hughie and Annie notice we're gone.” He begins to nudge you backward in the direction of the bathroom.

“No.” You giggle pushing against his muscular chest, but he doesn’t move.

“Come on doll. Don’t you want me to enjoy myself?” Ben pouts, before bringing his lips down to your ear. "I definitely think you'd enjoy yourself." A shiver travels down your spine. "That's my girl." He smirks, as he begins to kiss your neck again.

“Ben, I do want you to enjoy yourself, but I also don't want to have a good time in the bathroom at a bar.”

“Didn’t stop us last time.” He arches a brow.

“That was much cleaner and we weren’t at a bar with two of our friends.”

Ben frowns at you.

“How about you get me a little drunk, we dance for a bit, and then you get to take me home.” You press a kiss just under his ear, tangling your hands in his hair.

“Or we go into the bathroom for 10 minutes then you get me drunk enough to dance and then you get to take me home.” His hand tightens just under your thigh, rubbing his thumb against your soft jeans.

“Ben.”

“You know you want to.” He grins wolfishly. “Have I told you how sexy you look?”

He didn’t have to say it. You were wearing a green top that showed a little more cleavage than usual and your best pair of jeans that hugged your curves. The same pair of jeans that usually made Ben handsy. You had also spent an inordinate amount of time curling your hair before you left the apartment. Plus the green was exactly the same color as his suit, something that Ben loved was when you wore his color or his clothes.

“You have, several times. And I do, but please I don’t want to when our friends are out there waiting for us.”

He sighs, knowing that he’s lost. “Fine.”

Ben reluctantly lowers your legs to the ground, but you kiss him gently on the mouth to kiss away the frown that replaces the seductive smirk he had moments ago.

“Go on. I’m going to go to the bathroom.” He steps around you.

“What?”

“I have to take a piss. Go on get the drinks. I’m gonna need a lot of them to get through that fucking music.”

“Beer?”

“Beer and a whiskey.” Ben winks as he closes the door behind him.

You take in a deep breath to cool down from whatever almost happened, but you saw your ability to say no as a personal victory. Ben was usually able to coax you into doing whatever he wanted.

You hate how easily he won.

You begin the slow trek back to the bar, weaving in and out of the people trying to get closer to the stage or just dancing along to the music. The previous band was gone, replaced by a man wearing a fedora and playing a saxophone. The melody was smooth, and reminded you of what you father used to listen to on long days after work.

Ben would like this song. You think to yourself. You suddenly wished that he was here so he could hold you and sway along to the music, but you knew that getting drinks was equally important.

It would probably take at least two glasses of whiskey to get him out on the dance floor.

You maneuver yourself between two people sitting on stools to talk directly to the bartender. “Hey can I get four bottles of beer and a whiskey.”

“What kind?” The bartender is a blonde girl, pretty, only a few years older than you, dressed in an electric green top and mini skirt.

“Do you have anything that’s really old?” You never got what kind of whiskey Ben liked, just that he often complained that the older stuff was better.

It was a common opinion he voiced.

“Yeah but it’s pricy.” She shrugs

“That’s fine.” You pull Ben’s debit card out of your pocket.

You thought it was weird to use his card, but he kept telling you to even though you didn’t have a shared bank account. One time you tried to pay him back, but he wouldn’t let you and said that it was the man's job to pay for everything.

Another time you tried to pay for dinner and he told you not to worry. But you still felt guilty.

Sometimes you felt like a sugar baby. Given the age difference, it was closer to reality than you would have liked.

You were living together, well, Ben lived in your apartment. He kept talking about moving to a nicer apartment and as much as you wanted to, one day you found him looking at apartments that were worth more than seven times the monthly rent that you were paying currently.

You were going to see one in a few days, but you still hadn’t admitted to him that you didn’t think you could afford it. The only thing that stopped you was how excited he got about going, about moving in officially together in a new apartment that you didn't want to say no. Seeing him excited about something so domestic warmed your heart.

You didn’t know how much money he had, you just knew it was more than you given the fact that he was such a big hero and that he used to be in movies.

You hadn’t had a solid job since you started working for Butcher, who would give you some money under the table but who knows where he got that. You had some money that you inherited from your parents when they died, but other than that, nothing. An unwelcome thought, given the indestructible nature of your powers, which meant there was the possibility you would live forever.

I’m gonna have to start budgeting better.

The bartender turns to look for the drinks, while you lean forward on the bar, closing your eyes to listen to the smooth jazz that floats over the crowd.

Someone’s hand slides down your back and grips your butt.

You snort, not opening your eyes. “Ben I thought I told you-“ You turn around to look at who you thought was Ben, but freeze when you realize it’s the pink haired singer from before.

“Hey baby.” The man smiles tightening his grip on your butt. “I saw you admiring me, thought I’d come say hello.”

“Um. Yeah. That didn’t happen, now can you please take your hand off my ass?” You ask forcing your voice into a cool collected tone.

“I think it did.” He doesn’t remove it, in fact he moves further into you, to pin you against the bar. “Did you like my song?”

“No.”

One word answers usually were a good way of telling people that you weren’t interested, but this man didn't seem to understand that.

“Aww that’s too bad. I’ve got a few others that I can show you. What’s a pretty little thing like you doing here all alone?”

“We’ll see that’s the thing. I’m not alone and I’m going to ask you nicely one more time to fuck off before I break your arm.”

“A little thing like you do that? Come on baby let’s be serious.”

By now every time he said little your eye twitched aggressively. You did a good job of pretending you weren't a supe on your days off. You hid really well in a crowd, a skill that helped you evade Homelander and Vought more than once. Of course it had its annoyances as well. Case and point.

“Trust me. Me breaking your arm is much better than the alternative.”

I should get rid of him before Ben gets out here. That will definitely not end well if he sees this guy.

“What’s the alternative?” He oozes moving so close to your face that you can smell the stale alcohol on his breath.

“Well-“

The man is snapped upwards away from you and into the air.

Ben looks murderous. His usually bright green eyes have hardened into an emerald, his smile turned into a snarl. He’s holding the man by the front of his brightly striped suit, two feet off the ground, so close that Ben’s nose is almost brushing his.

“The alternative-“ Ben’s voice is a growl. “Is that I break your fucking face for touching my girlfriend.”

Why does he look so hot when he’s angry? You sigh to yourself, admiring the way his muscles tense under his black t-shirt as he holds the guy and how the shirt pulls up just enough for you to see the top of his hip where his low hanging blue jeans have fallen.

There’s something wrong with me.

“Whoa man I’m sorry I didn’t know she was yours.” The man stutters, holding on to Ben’s wrists where he still holds him in the air.

Ben is easily a foot taller than him and broader by a mile. Gazing down at him with enough hatred to make the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

As much as you liked Ben like this, you knew you had to do something before Ben killed him. Because as much as he deserved a good beating, the man didn’t deserve to die.

“Ben put him down.” You say.

“No.”

“Ben please.” You put your hand on his muscular shoulder, feeling the heat of his skin beneath the palm of your hand. “It’s not worth it. He’s not worth it.”

“But you are-“ His teeth are gritted together when he looks at you, green eyes blazing in fury. “He shouldn’t have touched you.”

“No he shouldn’t. But he doesn’t deserve to lose his life just because he felt up the wrong person in a bar.”

Ben’s jaw is locked together, nostrils flaring, but even you know that somewhere deep down he knows you're right. He turns his head to look back at the man. “You’re lucky that she’s more forgiving than I am.” Ben drops the man, who lands in a lump on the floor and turns to look at you.

Ben doesn’t look happy, but he still  takes your hand, preparing to shuffle you towards where Annie and Hughie are watching in horror.

But before Ben can say anything the man on the ground rolls to his feet, more gracefully than you would have guessed and lunges at Ben a small knife gripped in his left hand.

He really doesn’t know when to quit.

Although you know that a small knife will do little to Ben other than piss him off, you react. Before he can reach Ben, your free hand flashes out, fastening around the man's left wrist and you pull his arm behind him at an unnatural angle. His arm jolts, the sharp snap of bone overshadows the jazz music, and the man falls to the ground clutching his ruined arm to his chest with a broken cry. All of this happens within five seconds, too fast for a normal person to see.

“Told you I would break your arm.” You say, pulling Ben away before he can do anything worse to him.

“What happened?” Annie asks eyes wide.

“Total jerk at the bar. I ordered drinks but I think it’ll be better if Ben and I leave.” You glance over at the bartender who is talking to the bouncer and gesturing over at you and Ben. “I already paid so y’all enjoy yourselves.”

“Wait y/n we’ll come with you-“ Hughie says. His arm is draped around Annie’s shoulders where they sit in the booth. You think about letting them come with you, but they look so comfortable and they should enjoy their day off.

“No it’s okay.” You squeeze Ben’s hand. “I’m kinda wiped from today anyway.”

“Are you sure?” Annie asks.

“Yeah.” You nod once, before smiling wide at Annie and Hughie. “Let me know if you find the next Billy Joel.”

“There can only be one!” Hughie shouts as Ben and you weave through the bar goers to avoid the bouncer.

When you finally get outside and start towards home, Ben finally speaks.

“We didn’t have to leave.” He’s still holding your hand tightly, but you can feel the heat of his anger stirring beneath the skin.

“Yes we did. The bouncer was coming.” You stop walking and turn to look up at him. “Plus. I thought it was incredibly hot that you went all Soldier Boy on that guy’s ass to defend my honor.” Your hand drags against his muscular chest, mouth turning up in a sexy smile.

“Oh did you? Because here I thought that you were angry. And that you were going to yell at me for not letting you handle it.” He tugs you forward so that your chests are pressed against one another.

“Nope. Why do you think we had to leave? I want to get you home asap.”

He runs his free hand through your hair, fastening it behind your head, to pull you against him for a searing kiss. “You know, I also thought it was pretty hot when you broke that guy's arm.” Ben whispers against your lips.

“Wouldn’t have expected anything less. Now let’s go home so I can thank you properly.”

****************************************

Thank you for reading!

If you liked this fic, be sure to try out my series You Call It Madness But I Call It Love!

[pinkiebieberpie]

Congrats on all the requests! If I could add one more could we get Dean Winchester with the "only one bed" prompt

thank you!! and thank you for your request!! 🩵🩵

y/n and dean are long time friend, both hunters and honesty there was nothing romantic between them, no weird tension, just two close friends,

after a hunt they both went to the motel to get some rest,

and all rooms with two beds were booked,

that's not a big problem for two close friends right??

"i can sleep on the floor, that's fine."

"no dean, we will fit on this bed together, you won't be sleeping on the fucking floor after a hunt, are you crazy??"

and just like that after taking a shower both of you ended up in the same bed,

it was bigger than it looks,

it wasn't awkward, but y/n was looking at dean most of the time,

"you okay?" he asked with a confused look on his face,

"um, yeah" *blushing*

he is a blind idiot so for him it was nothing,

dean fell asleep first so you were able to feel his arm wrapping around your waist and keeping you close to him, this made you smile,

both of you slept well that night, but in the morning??? things get a bit awkward...

he woke up after you, you still in his arms "morning, dean" and he was speechless, just looking at you and blinking,

after a few seconds he did only one thing he thought about - kissed you, the kiss was lazy and slow,

you moaned into his lips and smiled a little as you kissed him back,

he pulled you on top of him, still holding you tight,

there is nothing wrong with lazy, morning make out session with your work friend, right? right???

supernatural masterlist

[jackles010378]

Saturday night special

(Jensen Ackles x you)

When Jensen over hears you singing, he works out a way to get to sing with you in front of a live crowd......

Y/n stood amidst the chaos that was the aftermath of yet another supernatural convention. As always, she found herself tasked with the duty of cleaning up the mess left behind by the boisterous crowd. Armed with a trash bag and a broom, she went about her work. But this time, something was different.

Lost in her own world of melodies, Y/n had her trusty headphones on, with her favorite tunes blasting through them. She was singing along to the music, oblivious to the world around her. Her voice resonated through the empty halls as she danced, completely absorbed in the joy of the music.

Unbeknownst to her, Jensen Ackles her favourite actor had returned to the convention center to retrieve his wallet he had absentmindedly left in the green room. As he approached the door to the green room, he heard a voice that captivated him. He followed the sound, drawn to the angelic tones that filled the air.

Peeking through the slightly ajar door, Jensen was stunned to find Y/n there, sweeping the floor while pouring her heart into the lyrics. Unable to tear his gaze away, he marveled at the raw emotion in her voice. It was a moment of vulnerability that struck a chord in his own heart. She was singing one of his band's songs, "Ain't no tellin" if he could hear it right. He stood there, continuing to watch through the gap in the door as she finished the song,

Knowin' you see me

When I'm 'round the way

Just remember

It'll be alright

And if it's only

Stealing another day

Well then find another time along the way

And ask yourself

Who are you holding onto now?

Oh, who are you holding onto now?

Tell me, who are you holding onto now?

Oh, who are you holding onto now?

Oh, who are you holding onto now?

(There ain't no tellin' no)

Oh, who are you holding onto now?

(There ain't no tellin' no)

Oh, who are you holding onto now?

(There ain't no tellin' no)

Who are you holding onto now?

Ohh yeah

There ain't no tellin' no

Far away

Every night and every day.....

Jensen let the door close slowly and softly so you wouldn't hear it and pulled his phone out of his pocket. Dialling a number as he walked away the person the other end answered "hey Cliff, I'm gonna need you to do some detective work for me" he said with the biggest smile on his face.

The following night, during the highly anticipated Saturday night concert, Jensen whispered to his co-star and friend, Rob Benedict. A mischievous smile played on his lips as he shared his desire to sing with Y/n. Rob's eyes twinkled with excitement as he agreed to help set up the surprise performance.

As the concert reached its peak, Rob made an announcement to the crowd, his voice filled with anticipation. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have a special treat for you tonight. Our very own Jensen Ackles will be gracing the stage with a special guest!"

Y/n, who had been enjoying the concert from the sidelines, felt a mixture of surprise and nervousness as she realized all eyes were on her. Y/n was never usually allowed to watch the concerts, with her just being a cleaner she never had the same perks as the other staff that were around to help, but tonight her manager asked for her to be present in the main hall just in case of any mishaps. She felt a gentle tap on her shoulder and turned to find Rob smiling mischievously, pointing towards Jensen who stood on stage, microphone in hand.

Her heart raced in her chest as Jensen extended his hand, his eyes filled with a glimmer of hope. A shy smile adorned Y/n's face as she mustered the courage to take his hand. With a mix of elation and trepidation, she found herself walking towards the stage, feeling the weight of the crowd's anticipation.

As the lights dimmed and the spotlight shone upon them, Y/n and Jensen shared a moment. The beginning chords of Shallow echoed throughout the room as y/n recognised the song. As small smile graced her lips as this was a favourite of hers. She stood in awe, watching as Jensen sang.

Realising it was her turn she took a deep breath. The crowd went silent as her voice filled the room, bouncing off the walls. The entire room fell silent as she sang, Jensen standing by her side listening to her as if it was the first time he had heard her. Thinking back to the moment he stumbled upon her first time round. He thanked himself for leaving his wallet in the green room that night.

The chemistry between them was electric, their voices resonating through the venue, captivating the hearts of everyone present.

In that enchanting moment, Y/n's shyness melted away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of joy. She realized that sometimes, it's in the moments of vulnerability that our true talents shine brightest. The crowd erupted in applause, their voices melding with Y/n and Jensen's, creating an atmosphere of pure magic.

From that night on, Y/n embraced her musical talents with newfound confidence. Her collaboration with Jensen became the stuff of legends, their duets continuing to captivate supernatural conventions for years to come. Jensen would always see if she was available to sing with him when he returned and she'd always say yes.

As she stepped off that stage that night, she knew that sometimes, the most extraordinary moments in life happen when we let go of your fears and take a leap of faith.

TAGLIST: @k-slla @cevansbaby-dove @kaleldobrev @janineb86 @deans-daydream @alternativeprincess94 @nescavaneck

[waynes-multiverse]

Polaris – Series Masterlist

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, law enforcement themes (incl. serial killers, kidnappings, cartels etc.), marital themes (incl. divorce, cheating etc.), general emotional turmoil & an unhealthy amount of flashbacks

A/N: Inspired by this little Dirty Drabble I wrote about our favorite sheriff comes a series full of sexy heartbreak and a look into Beau Arlen’s past. Buckle up and get ready for another emotional ride 🤍

Main Masterlist || Beau Arlen Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 1: Caught Up In A Moment Chapter 2: No Signs, No Compasses Chapter 3: Pour The Whiskey Chapter 4: Rewind Chapter 5: Illicit Affairs Chapter 6: Curses And Cries Chapter 7: Storm Coming – JUNE 19 Chapter 8: Chemical Bonds – JUNE 26 Chapter 9: Marooned Chapter 10: It Matters Chapter 11: You With Me Chapter 12: Through Chapter 13: Sure And Certain

ONE SHOTS & OTHER:

Jurisdiction (Prequel)

[zepskies]

Rest

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean is your rock, but you’ve become his place of rest.

AN: Surprise! Just something short and sweet for Dean. 💜

Word Count: 600

Tags/Warnings: Established relationship; fluff, hurt/comfort, tinge of angst

On nights like these, the urge hits you the most.

You’re already in bed, wearing one of his old shirts and little else. You’re waiting for Dean, watching him finish brushing his teeth. He wraps it up by splashing some water on his face.

He stops for a moment, with his hands on the edges of the sink. He looks at his reflection and rubs a hand over the thick stubble on his face.

It’s halfway to beard territory. He needs a trim, he’s probably thinking.

(You don’t mind a little extra scruff.)

He hesitates, looking deeper at his own reflection. You notice the lines around his tired eyes, the weight of the last hunt still heavy on his shoulders. It's weighing on yours too, having carved out another small notch in your heart.

But you also know how many more layers this man carries, including the ones he adds himself.

“Dean,” you prompt quietly.

His head turns in your direction, and you give him a smile, beckoning him over.

Again, he hesitates. But he goes to you. After dipping his side of the bed with his weight, he smoothes a hand over your hair in affection. He takes off his father’s watch; the last piece of the hunter’s armor before he lays down on his back beside you. The old metal and leather watch clunks on the nightstand.

He then opens an arm to welcome you over, where you routinely find a place against his side.

“Come ‘ere,” he murmurs, his voice low and gravel. Your lips curve, but you gently push his arm back down to his side.

“Turn over,” you say, making a rolling gesture with your finger. Dean’s brows knit together in confusion, but he’s just curious enough to heed the encouragement of your hands on his arm and his back. He turns onto his side, facing away from you.

You settle yourself higher on your pillows, and you guide him backwards, until he’s resting against your soft upper body. You wrap your arms over his broad shoulders, and your hand moves, soothing across his chest. Even now, you feel the tension in his frame.

“Relax,” you say in a near whisper. You press a lingering kiss to his cheek. “I’ve always wanted to be the big spoon.”

A smile raises the corners of Dean’s lips. He even chuckles, shaking both of you.

“Yeah? Feels kinda weird,” he admits. He doesn’t think he’s been held like this since he was a kid.

“Well, give it a minute,” you say, with a bit of cheekiness.

Then you sigh and settle into this yourself. When your arms cross over his chest, Dean grabs your wrist, holding you there. He lets out another deep breath of his own.

Okay, he agrees, if only in his mind. Not bad.

He does relax against you, inhaling the floral scent of your body wash, feeling the tickle of your hair on his shoulder, and the gentle rise and fall of your breath. It's all familiar, and reminds him that he's home.

Dean leans over to turn off the light on his nightstand, but he returns to your embrace. He reaches back, just to stroke your cheek in a silent thanks. Smiling in the dark, you lay another kiss on the side of his head, and you close your eyes.

Dean does the same. He lets your warmth seep into his body, releasing the tension of a shitty hunt. He tries to let go of the faces he couldn’t save.

And he actually rests. 

AN: Just one of my little daydreams that I finally got a chance to write down. 💜

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Dean Winchester One-Shots

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Dean W. Tag List:

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms

@foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373

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

@iprobablyshipit91 @melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sanscas @sleepyqueerenergy

@wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons

@anticxrrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk

@midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19 @agalliasi @venicesem

@chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @deansbbyx

@candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester

@chernayawidow @mimaria420 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse

[castiwls]

imgonnagetyouback - d.w

Paring; dean x reader

Prompt; 'you'll find, that you were never not mine (You're mine)'

Requested; anon

Notes; reqs and inbox are open !

Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist

“He’s on a date?” The book you’d been reading slipped from your hand as the words left your mouth. Sam nodded grabbing his laptop from the table and sending you a slight smile. “He said not to tell you but…” He trailed off shrugging his shoulders. “You were gonna find out anyways.” 

You watch him for a moment, pursing your lips as a pang of jealousy runs through you. Pushing it down you shake your head. “I don’t care.” a lie. “We broke up.” 

Sam paused, watching you for a moment his eyes narrowing slightly as he noticed the sudden tension in your body. “Sure.” He sounded far from convinced. It wasn't his place to get in between whatever it was you and Dean had going on, he’d tried once before and it had only ended with him being more confused than before.

He watched you for a moment longer as you picked the book back up, slowly thumbing through it. “Night.” He sighed. You hummed a quiet reply your brain going a mile a minute.

He was on a date. You scoffed quietly to yourself placing the book down, you didn’t care. Dean and you weren’t a thing anymore you held no claim over him.

Though the thought of him with another girl left a jealous pit in your stomach. 

Grabbing your phone you quickly checked the time before mindlessly scrolling. At least an hour passed before the sound of footsteps broke the silence which hung in the air. Your head shot up as you looked towards the doorway of the kitchen, a small smile playing on your lips as Dean turned the corner, his eyes widening slightly when he noticed you.

“Good date?” 

He stared at you for a moment before a smile of his own grew on his lips and he nodded. He didn’t say anything else as he walked to the fridge and grabbed a beer before sitting down opposite you. 

You both fell quiet as you went back to your phone. You could feel Dean’s gaze burning through you as he lent back in his chair. “You jealous?”

You looked up a frown pulling at your lips. “Why would I be?” You placed your phone down, crossing your hands on the table. “Well, you did sit up till I came back and…” He leaned forward slightly placing his chin on your hand. “You have that look in your eyes, the one you get when you're pissed but don’t want anyone to know.”

You scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself. I wasn’t waiting for you, I was helping Sam.”

“Well…I don’t see Sam anywhere.”

“He went to bed not long ago. That's why.”

Dean hummed leaning back. “I don’t believe you.” He pushed himself up from his chair coming to stand beside you. You turned slightly in your chair, looking up as he stopped in front of you.

“You're jealous. I know you are so you may as well just admit it, Sweetheart.” He smirked down at you, his eyes glinting slightly as he nudged your foot with his own.

You glared up at him, your teeth catching on your lip. Part of you really wanted to punch that smirk on his face in that moment, but you also couldn’t deny the way your heart seemed to flutter at his closeness.

“M’not jealous.” You smiled moving to stand. Your breath caught in your throat slightly as your arm brushed his. “I don’t care. We broke up, You're not mine anymore you can do as you like.” 

Dean flattered slightly at your comment as he seemed to think for a moment. “Anyways, can’t have been that good. I don’t see her anywhere.” You hummed before moving to brush past him.

You barely got two steps before a hand wrapped around your wrist. Dean pulled you back, caging you in as your back hit the edge of the table. Your hands flew back to steady yourself as he planned his own beside them. 

“I know what you're doing.” He leaned down his breath ghosting against your lips. “And it’s not going to work.” 

You took a breath, your face still calm as you held his gaze. “I’m not doing anything.” 

He laughed quietly shaking his head. “You waited here on purpose and you knew damn well that I didn’t like her the minute I walked through that door yet you still questioned me.” He looked away for a moment before turning his attention back to you. 

“You think I was trying to rile you up?” You tilted your head, feigning innocence. He was right. You’d known the minute he walked in alone that the date couldn’t have gone that well and you’d also realised that he’d be riled up just enough that if you played your cards right you’d end up getting exactly what you wanted.

And what you wanted back what was rightfully yours. 

This was far from the first break-up you and Dean had ever had and every time it ended exactly the same. You’d break up, he’d go on a date - it hopefully wouldn't go well, he’d come back riled up, and within 24 hours you’d be back together again like nothing had ever happened.

He shook his head, a fond smile growing on his lips. “C’mere.” His lips pressed against yours and you practically melted into his body. 

It was a game you both played. He equally knew how to pull your strings and every time it worked. 

After a moment he pulled back, one of his hands moving to rub circles into your waist. “Bedroom?”