#hurt!jensen x you

[happy74827]

Forced to Listen

[Dean Winchester x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Dean hated it when you hunted him down for advice, and he also hated that you knew exactly how to bait him into listening.

WC: 1082

Category: Fluff, Ranter!Reader, Mentions of Cheating, Sam being absolutely useless (iconic).

Can you believe that it’s been TWO WHOLE YEARS since I last wrote of him?? I’m so angry at myself 😭😭

『••✎••』

Dean could sense what was coming when he watched you stomp towards him with nothing but a small bottle of beer. The look on your face was one he had come to recognize over the years.

It was the one that said that you were about to coerce him into listening to your woes, and he had no other choice but to do it. The heat outside was unbearable, the kind that made Dean strip off his flannel and ditch the leather jacket, leaving him in his sweat-covered shirt.

But as he stood under the hood of the Impala, trying to get her to start, that bottle of beer was calling his name. The promise of the cool, carbonated drink sliding down his throat, relieving him from the dryness that had settled in his mouth, was something he desperately craved. And you knew that. That's why you were headed straight for him.

"Hey, Dean," you said innocently, the small bottle of beer dangling from your hand.

Dean sighed, his gloved hands pausing as he glanced up at you. He really wasn’t in the mood to listen to you whine about what was going on in your life, but that bottle of beer was too tempting to pass up. It was his favorite brand, too.

Goddamn it, you really were a temptress.

"Two minutes,” he grunted out, holding his hand out for the beer. "I'll give you two minutes."

You grinned, placing the bottle of beer in his open hand. In a matter of seconds, half the liquid was gone, and you were waiting impatiently for him to give you the sign to begin.

After another second, a sigh of content slipped from his mouth, and he nodded, signaling you to start.

You didn’t waste any time. "Do you think I'm a bitch?"

"I think you're a pain in my ass," Dean retorted, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. It didn’t make much difference since his hand was already covered in dirt and grease, but it made him feel a little better. "Don’t tell me you came over here just to ask me that?"

"No, I'm serious, Dean," you insisted. "Do you actually think I'm a bitch?"

You were staring up at him now, the look on your face completely unreadable. You were waiting for an answer, but he had a feeling that no matter what answer he gave, it wouldn't make a difference.

So, he just raised his eyebrows, silently telling you to go on while he took another sip of his beer.

"Dating's hard, Dean," you started, and he already felt a groan coming on. He did not want to have this conversation. "I just don't get it. Why am I not good enough for them? Why do I keep getting cheated on?"

You were pacing around the car as you spoke, and Dean kept his eyes on the beer. As you went on about everything that was bothering you, the more he regretted his decision to drink that damn thing.

"Am I not attractive? Am I not smart enough? What is it, Dean?" You looked at him, hoping for an answer. But when you realized he wasn't paying that much attention to what you were saying, you let out a scoff. "Great, so I'm not even good enough for you to listen to me? God, Dean, you are such a douche."

Dean rolled his eyes and finally looked up at you, the annoyance clearly visible. "Can I get back to fixing up my baby, now?"

"Would you date me?" You asked, suddenly, a hint of desperation in your voice. "Am I worth dating?"

God, you were killing him. He’d rather get heatstroke than continue this conversation, and he was sure Sammy would agree on his behalf.

He could actually see his baby brother from where he stood. He was a few yards away, sitting in the shade. A book in his hand, but his eyes were on the two of you.

Was he…? Oh hell no.

He was laughing.

Sammy was having a good time watching him squirm under your gaze, doing absolutely nothing despite avoiding the work Bobby needed help with.

Oh, was Dean pissed off. He’d get his payback soon, hopefully. It would be whenever he actually gets away from you and fixes up his car. Baby always comes first.

"I mean, c'mon, Dean," you pressed on. "Just give me some advice. You were with so many women, and they were all beautiful and perfect, so what's wrong with me?"

You were pouting, and Dean felt like throwing his beer bottle on the ground and stomping on it. This was the worst two minutes of his life.

"There’s nothing wrong with you,” he finally said, looking you in the eye. "You could be a pain in the ass, but unfortunately, I’m apparently the only one who has to deal with it, so... yeah. You're fine."

"Fine? I'm fine?"

"Yup," Dean replied. He turned back to the Impala, taking the last swig of his beer and tossing the empty bottle into your hands. "Thanks for the beer. Is that all?”

"I just feel… I don't know. I feel like I'm not good enough, ya know?" You said a sad look on your face. "Like there's something wrong with me. Something that's making everyone leave me."

"Listen," Dean started. He looked at you again, but all of his annoyance was gone. The two minutes were definitely up; he could quite literally kick you out of sight, but with the look you had on your face, he just couldn’t do it.

So, despite Sam’s utter lack of help, he was going to do his best to try to make you feel better.

"It's not you, alright?" He assured. "There's nothing wrong with you. If a guy can't see that, then he doesn't deserve you, okay? Trust me, you will have no problem finding someone else."

The corners of your lips twitched, turning into a small smile. "Yeah?"

Dean nodded, giving you a smirk. "If you want, I could always give out the ole hunter's special with your past one. Bobby could use a new rug for his living room."

A loud snort slipped past your mouth, and Dean was satisfied.

"Okay, Winchester," you said. "This is my sign to get the hell out of here."

And so you did, but before you could get even slightly close to the house, he called out to you.

"Oh, and by the way," he said, a small smile forming on his face. If you thought it was going to be wholesome, then you were sorely mistaken.

"Next time you come to me to talk about your feelings, at least have a damn pie."

[thesilmarillionblog]

𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u

Series Masterlist is here.

Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: Heavy angst, hurt, heartless Soldier Boy, reader gets hurt, mention of violence, mention of drugs, betrayal, Soldier Boy being a dick, reader is a supe, Crimson Countess is a bitch

Word Count: 1796

A/N: English is not my first language.

* This story is inspired by the song "Losing You" by Dream Evil.

“Get lost fuckface and bring me a coffee,” Ben said telling the the poor guy who was trying his best to make Soldier Boy happy till the broadcast start.

The announcement of the new Payback member to the American public was scheduled for today. The company's executives had already made the decision to bring on a new employee, despite the fact that the team already had enough members. Everyone on the team opposed this idea, with the exception of Soldier Boy and you, but nothing changed.

You didn't mind if a new person joined the team because they were assigning Soldier Boy all tasks, regardless of importance, and you could see he was growing more and more irate with each passing day. Given that Black Noir was the team's second-strongest member, it was obvious Soldier Boy didn't appreciate the concept of being used for insignificant tasks constsantly. It was obvious that the team definitely required one more strong member.

“You don’t have to be so rude to those people,” you murmered as you approached Ben. "They are all scared of you already.”

Ben chuckled as he sat down and sniffed the white dust, saying, “I am not familiar with the concept of princess treatment, sweetheart, and nobody respects a pussy leader; keep that in mind.”

You sighed knowing he would never change his attitude just because you told him to. He pulled you to his lap and gave you a quick and firm kiss, silencing you before you argue with him.

All of you were taken aback when a new supe was introduced because you hadn't seen her before. She smiled and gave a short but impactful speech about how she would benefit America and its citizens. She looked nice and strong with her red suit and long red hair.

You were only made to feel worse by the fact that everyone was rooting for Soldier Boy and Crimson Countess every day, and their fan base became stronger over time. The current Crimson Countess stood on the side where you used to stand. They were singing together in ads while standing side by side and hand in hand, which was keeping you up at nights. The growing distance between you and Ben was eating you alive.

He hardly ever visited or spoke to you during the day, despite the fact that he used to spend the night with you in the past. There were moments when you tried to talk to him about what was going on, but he waved you off right away, saying he had things to do and couldn't be seen with any other woman but the Countess.

You were frequently questioned about their relationship, and you smiled while telling the cameras that they were lucky to have found each other and that they were strong together. If only they were aware of your true feelings.

Even though Ben continued to treat Noir rudely, which greatly upset and angered you, the rest of the crew was glad that Soldier Boy had finally become distracted. This was because they had been mistreated and bullied by him less than in the past. You two had heated disagreements over Noir as well in the past, but Ben consistently ignored your emotions and ideas. Now that Crimson also supported him about how he should treat the team made your blood boil with hatred and agony.

Noir remarked, removing his mask, “I can't do this, Y/N. I refuse to bow to him and put up with the way he treats me.”

You walked up to him and touched his back to get him to turn to face you. “What do you mean?” you questioned.

“I’m saying he is not worthy of being a leader.” Noir paced violently and stated, “All he does is get high with Crimson and bully me and everyone around him. He left you aside too.”

Though you knew he didn’t mean to hurt you, his words cut deep and silenced you for a second.

“Don’t do something crazy, Noir. You hear me?” You asked, ignoring his thoughts about Ben leaving you. “You know his short temper.”

Noir was always kind and kind, so you were surprised to see him so furious, but you knew he was right about everything, and Ben seemed to be getting worse and more distant every day as his connection with Countess took shape right before your eyes. You seemed to be deceiving yourself all along when you told yourself that their relationship wasn't real.

“I don’t know. Someone must do something about this.”

“You don’t stand a chance against him,” you said as you grasped his arms tightly. “I’ll talk to him, okay. I’ve got this, I promise.”

Noir gave you a nod before he put the mask on, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You waited patiently until you learned Ben would be alone tonight because Crimson would be going on a mission. Your heart raced when you entered his house without saying anything. He must have heard the noises you made already, because he turned to you immediately and did not look surprised to see you.

“Hi,” you whispered, not knowing how to react around him anymore.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he asked as he sat down in the coach after. He was high on cocaine.

As you walked up to him, you gave him a disappointed expression, but the way he looked stopped you. In the past, you were close every second, but those days are long in the past now.

“What’s wrong with you?” Your eyes were watery as you asked. It seemed like you would explode at any moment.

“Are fucking on your period? Why so sensitive?” His smile infuriated you, and he laughed as if something amusing had happened. There was something very punchable about his face.

“Why do you still treat Noir like a fucking jackass? He follows your instructions to the letter, and you are simply being disrespectful to him and the team as a whole.” You spoke angrily, as if you wanted him to share your feelings of rage. You wanted to wipe that foolish smile off his face.

His body abruptly shifted, giving you a menacing glance and raising his finger in your direction. “Don't fucking give me some advise. Who the fuck are you? You do realize that I am the fucking boss here, don't you?”

He hasn't been this angry with you in a long time, so you were surprised by his harsh remarks. It seemed like he hated you as he spat those words.

You yelled back, “I don't even know the man I'm talking to anymore,” at which point your tears finally fell. “Since Crimson entered your life, you have changed, Ben. She fucking hates you; she doesn't even love you. Don’t you see it?”

He was eventually enraged by your screams at him, and he stood in front of you with hate in his eyes. Your heart pained when you saw him staring at you like that, with eyes full of anger and fury.

“Do you know what I'm going to do?” He asked softly, as if he were just saying something kind. “I'm fucking gonna kill that masked pussy Noir and fucking make sure you watch through it.”

His cold words frozen you, and your eyes widened seeing he meant every word he said.

You shoved him away by his chest and sobbed, “If you ever touch Noir, I swear I'll cut Countess’ bitch head and throw it to your fucking thick skull.”

You were aware that nothing or no one could stop Ben from doing what he wanted to do, and that you might be the reason Noir was put to death or anything like. Your pulse raced upon witnessing Ben's unexpected outburst of rage against Noir.

Judging by his face, it was clear he was taken aback by your sharp words. You’ve never talked in athreatening way before with anyone. Your sigh and sobbing were the only things that filled the pregnant silence in the room.

“Ben,” you said softly, trying to reach again one more time, and you touched his face, hoping he wouldn’t push your hands back. To your surprise, he didn’t make a move. You looked him into the eyes between your tears and said, “I am the only one who truly loves you. Not her, not anyone else. Just me. What happened to us?”

You waited for him to answer you after you gave him a firm kiss, showing your love and care for him, but he didn’t kiss you back. Instead, he pushed your hands away from his face, with an unreadable look on his face.

“Why are you being selfish?” he asked, breaking the silence, almost irritated by your kindness toward him. “People love seeing me and her together. Duty fucking comes first.”

“You don’t owe love to her just to be loved by people you don’t even know,” you said, trying to convince him he didn’t have to do something he didn’t want to.

“How the fuck do you know I’m doing this for people only?”

“What do you mean?” you asked, as your heart skipped for a moment.

“Maybe I’m fed up with your soft attitude, and I want to be with her. How about that?” He said he was giving you an insidious smile.

With a heavy heart, you stepped back from him as more tears dropped from your cheeks. There was no point trying to convince Ben for your love while he didn’t give a fuck about it at all and the one he wanted was actually Countess.

“Is that what you want?”

“It fucking is,” he said, sitting down in the coach and keeping sniffing cocaine, like the conversation meant nothing to him and he wanted you to be gone.

Before leaving his house, you turned him one last time, saying, “She’ll betray you, Ben. I don’t know if I see that day, but you’ll see it.”

Next Chapter

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A/N: Well, that was a one shot, but let me know if you think that I should make it multi-chapters. Comments are appreciated, hehehe. <33

[lila-lou]

✨Lesson learned✨

Summary: You upset your boyfriend by dancing with another guy, so he sets out to teach you how to behave.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader (DARK)

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, kinda Rape, Language, Angst, Hurt, Manipulation, Violence, Humiliation - it´s just pure darkness

Word Count: 5168

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

The relationship with Ben had always been a rollercoaster ride, filled with highs and lows that left you dizzy and disoriented. When you first started dating, you held onto the hope that he would change, that maybe the glimpses of softness he showed were a sign of something deeper. But as time went on, it became painfully clear that his misogynistic tendencies ran deep, overshadowing any progress he made. It was a constant tug-of-war between his moments of kindness and his ignorant behavior, leaving you feeling drained and uncertain about your future together.

So again, as you stood in front of him at the bar, a hand gently resting on his shoulder, you mustered up the courage to ask, “Ben, come dance with me?”. You nodded towards Kimiko and Frenchie on the dance floor, their laughter and joy infectious.

Ben grumbled a terse "No", his irritation palpable in the air. But undeterred, you tried again, hoping to break through the barrier he had erected between you. "Please, just one dance", you insisted, your voice tinged with a hint of desperation.

However, before you could finish your plea, Ben snapped at you, his tone cutting through the music and laughter around you. "I said no, can't you listen for once?". His words stung, leaving you feeling small and defeated once again.

You tried not to let anyone see that his snapping hurt you, so you overplayed it with a nod and a soft smile. While Ben took a sip of his whiskey, you sat back down beside him, your eyes fixed on the dance floor. Annie and Huggies were dancing too, their happiness a stark contrast to the tension between you and Ben. With a sigh, you realized that once again, you and Ben were alone in your own little world of strained communication and unspoken frustrations.

You bit your lip, bouncing your leg up and down, while Ben's focus remained glued to his phone. You were happy that he had even agreed to join you and your friends at the bar, but right now, you kinda wished he hadn’t come. He didn't talk to you, didn't dance with you, nothing. The silence between you was heavy, filled only with the sounds of the lively bar.

You sighed, unable to hide your disappointment, and it earned a snarky comment from Ben. "What's with the dramatic sighing? If you're so bored, maybe you should have stayed home", he muttered without looking up from his phone.

His words cut deep, but you forced a neutral expression, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he had hurt you. Instead, you just looked back towards the dance floor, wondering how something that once felt so promising had turned into this.

After a while, some guy approached you. Of course, he wasn’t Ben, but he looked pretty handsome. His blue eyes sparkled as he smiled at you. “Would you like to dance?”, he asked, his voice warm and inviting.

You glanced beside you, but Ben didn't even bother to look up from his phone. Clearly not paying attention to you at all. More than hurt by his disinterest, you took all the bravery you had left and smiled at the stranger, nodding. You stood up and walked with him over to the dance floor.

As you started dancing, it was nothing too close or dirty; you just wanted to have fun and forget the tension with Ben, even if only for a moment. The stranger's easy-going nature and genuine interest in you made you feel lighter, the weight of Ben's neglect slowly lifting as you moved to the music. You laughed and twirled, enjoying the simple pleasure of being seen and appreciated, if only by someone new.

It wasn't until 20 minutes later that Annie and Hughie approached Ben, slightly sweating from dancing, and asked, "Hey, Ben, have you seen Y/N?".

Ben looked up, visibly annoyed. He glanced to his side and realized you were gone. Scanning the room, his eyes finally landed on you, laughing with a guy he didn’t know. There was a respectable distance between you and the guy, but still, his anger began to simmer.

Annie followed his gaze, swallowing hard when she saw you on the dance floor. Her eyes flicked back to Ben, noting the veins standing out on his neck, a clear sign that he was trying everything to keep his temper in check. But it was obvious he was close to losing it.

"Ben, it's just a dance", Annie said softly, trying to diffuse the situation. "She just wants to have fun".

Ben's jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. "I can see that", he replied through gritted teeth, his eyes never leaving you and the guy.

Hughie put a hand on Ben's shoulder, trying to offer some comfort. "Maybe you should go talk to her, Ben. Clear things up".

Ben took a deep breath, his anger barely contained, and stood up. "Yeah, maybe I fucking should", he muttered, striding towards the dance floor with a determined look on his face.

Ben approached you within seconds, and without a word, he punched the guy in the face. He tried his best to hold back his supe strength to avoid killing him outright, but the guy was still knocked out, his nose and jaw clearly broken. Despite the few screams from people around you, Ben gripped your upper arm with a fierce hold, tugging you out of the bar with such force that it left you in tears.

Outside, he shoved you towards a nearby taxi, growling, "Get the fuck inside". His eyes blazed with fury, making it clear there was no room for argument.

You stumbled into the taxi, your arm throbbing from his grip and tears streaming down your face. The driver looked alarmed but said nothing as Ben slammed the door shut behind you.

Meanwhile, inside the bar, Annie and Hughie exchanged worried glances before rushing to help the guy who had danced with you. There was nothing they could do for you now. They had warned you more than once about Ben, but you hadn’t listened. Now, they could only hope you would be safe and find a way out of this toxic cycle.

The taxi pulled away, the night outside a blur as you tried to process what had just happened. The harsh reality of Ben's unpredictable anger and possessiveness was hitting you harder than ever.

Inside the taxi, you held your arm, tears rolling down your face as a huge bruise already started to form. Ben had always been a bit rough in handling you, but he had never been this mad, never actually hurt you like this. Sure, during sex, your hips sometimes got a few bruises when he squeezed them too tight while he came and was simply overwhelmed, but this right now was completely different.

Beside you, Ben breathed heavily, his angry gaze fixed on you. You tried not to look at him, fearing that meeting his eyes might provoke another outburst. The tension in the confined space of the taxi was suffocating, each second dragging on like an eternity.

“You really thought it was a good idea to fucking dance with some random guy?”, Ben finally spat, his voice dripping with anger. “Do you have any idea how that made me look?”.

You flinched at his words, struggling to find your voice. “I just wanted to have fun, Ben. You weren’t paying any attention to me”, you said softly, your voice trembling.

The taxi driver kept his eyes on the road, clearly uncomfortable but not daring to intervene.

Ben's rage intensified, his face contorting with fury. "Fun? With another man?", he repeated, his voice louder and more menacing. "You acted like a fucking little whore, and you should know better!".

You flinched again, the sting of his words cutting deeper than the physical pain. "Ben, please", you whispered, tears streaming down your face. "I wasn't doing anything wrong. I just wanted to dance".

"Just wanted to dance?", he mocked, his voice dripping with venom. "You're mine. You don't get to just do whatever the hell you want".

You felt a mixture of fear and defiance welling up inside you. "I didn't mean to upset you", you said, your voice barely audible. "But you can't treat me like this".

Ben's eyes narrowed, his anger palpable. "I can treat you however I damn well please", he snapped. "You're lucky I don't do worse for making me look like a fool in front of everyone".

The taxi driver shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes fixed firmly on the road. You felt a pang of sympathy for the man, dragged into this toxic exchange against his will.

As the driver stopped in front of your and Ben’s apartment building, Ben paid quickly, his movements sharp and impatient. You hurried out of the car, knowing that if you didn’t move fast enough, Ben would likely drag you out himself. Your body was shaking as you opened the door and walked towards the apartment, Ben close behind you.

The elevator ride was tense and silent, the air thick with unspoken words and simmering anger. Your mind raced, trying to think of a way to defuse the situation or at least protect yourself from what might come next.

When you finally reached your apartment, your hands trembled as you unlocked the door. You stepped inside, your heart pounding in your chest. Ben followed, closing the door behind him with a resounding thud.

“You think you can just embarrass me like that and walk away?”, he spat, his eyes burning with anger.

You backed away slowly, your voice trembling as you tried to explain. “I wasn’t trying to embarrass you, Ben. I just needed some attention, some fun. You weren’t—”.

“I wasn’t what?”, he interrupted, stepping closer, his presence overwhelming. “I wasn’t doting on you like some pathetic lapdog? You need to learn your place”.

Tears welled up in your eyes again as you looked up at him, feeling small and powerless. “Ben, please. This isn’t right. We can’t keep going like this”.

For a moment, something flickered in his eyes—an emotion that wasn’t anger, perhaps regret or pain. But it was quickly replaced by the familiar, cold rage.

Before you could say another word, his palm connected with your cheek, the sound of the slap reverberating through the room. The force of the blow sent you reeling, your vision blurring as pain radiated through your face. You stumbled back, clutching your cheek, tears spilling freely down your face.

“You don’t get to fucking tell me what’s right”, he growled, his voice low and dangerous. The venom in his words left you trembling, your body shaking with a mix of fear and pain.

The tears came harder now, uncontrollable sobs wracking your body. Ben’s expression twisted in anger as he watched you. “Stop fucking crying”, he yelled, his voice rising to a furious pitch. “Or I’ll give you a reason to fucking cry”.

You tried to stifle your sobs, pressing your hand harder against your mouth, but the fear and pain were too overwhelming. Ben’s rage seemed to grow with every tear that fell, as he struggled to contain his anger.

He took a step closer, towering over you. “I fucking swear, if you don’t shut up…”, he threatened, leaving the rest of his words hanging ominously in the air.

In that moment, you realized that there was no reasoning with him, no calming his fury.

You stood there, your hand pressing hard against your mouth, the right side of your face completely swollen and red. Despite your best efforts to remain silent, the fear and pain made it impossible not to sob. Your breath hitched with each sob, your chest twitching up and down uncontrollably. You were shaking, your entire body a testament to the trauma you were enduring.

Ben’s eyes bored into you, a terrifying mix of rage and contempt. “Look at you”, he spat, his voice dripping with disdain.

You couldn’t meet his gaze, your eyes fixed on the floor as you tried to steady your breathing, your sobs barely contained. The room felt smaller, suffocating, as his presence dominated every corner.

“Do you understand now?”, he continued, his tone quieter but no less menacing. “You don’t get to act out and make a fool of me”.

You nodded, trying not to upset him further, hoping to placate his rage. But Ben wasn’t done with you just yet. He needed you to learn what happened if you didn’t behave yourself. You were his girl, after all, and no one else got to touch you.

“Good”, he said, his voice icy and controlled. “But I don’t think you fully understand yet”.

He stepped closer, his towering presence casting a shadow over you. You flinched as his hand reached out, expecting another strike, but instead, he grabbed your chin roughly, forcing you to look up at him. His grip was tight, his fingers digging into your skin painfully.

“You belong to me”, he said, his eyes boring into yours. “No one else gets to touch you, no one else gets to see you like this. Do you hear me?”.

You nodded again, your breath hitching in fear. “Yes, Ben”, you whispered, your voice trembling.

“Say it”, he demanded, his grip tightening even more.

“I belong to you”, you repeated, tears spilling over once more. “No one else”.

He released your chin, shoving you back slightly. “Good. Now remember that”, he said, his voice filled with a cold satisfaction. “And don’t ever make me remind you again”.

You stumbled back, catching yourself against the kitchen island. Ben's eyes never left you, his expression a mix of anger and satisfaction. He muttered something under his breath, barely audible, but you caught the tail end of it: "Now turn the fuck around, face down".

Terror gripped you, but you knew better than to resist. Shaking, you slowly turned around, facing the kitchen island, your hands gripping the edge tightly. The cold surface felt like a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your swollen cheek.

"Face down", he repeated, his voice sharp and commanding.

You lowered yourself, your cheek pressing against the cool countertop, tears streaming silently from your eyes. Every muscle in your body was tense, bracing for whatever was to come next.

Behind you, you heard Ben move closer, his footsteps heavy and deliberate. His presence loomed over you, and you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. "Don't ever forget who you belong to", he growled, his voice a harsh whisper in your ear.

Your mind raced, searching for a way out, but the fear kept you rooted to the spot. You knew that any attempt to resist would only provoke him further, and the thought of what he might do if pushed too far was too terrifying to contemplate.

Time seemed to stretch on, each second a painful eternity as you lay there, your breath shallow and uneven.

You heard Ben’s belt rustling behind you, the sound sending a chill down your spine. He pulled down his jeans and boxers just enough to free his dick. While he gave himself a few pumps to make himself hard, he yanked up your dress, exposing your ass. With a hard tug, he ripped away your panties, leaving red marks where the fabric bit into your skin as he pulled on it.

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the sobs that threatened to escape. The pain of his rough handling mixed with the humiliation of the situation, making you feel utterly powerless. Ben’s heavy breathing filled the room, a harsh reminder of the imminent violation.

“Don’t move”, he ordered, his voice cold and detached. You could feel him positioning himself behind you, the heat of his body pressing against your exposed skin.

You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the inevitable.

As he was about to push inside you, he grabbed your hip, making you flinch reflexively. Snapping at you that he told you not to move, he slapped your ass with such force that you were shoved into the kitchen counter. You were certain he had just used his supe strength on you for the first time. The impact nearly crushed your hipbones against the hard edge of the countertop. It was impossible to tell what pained more—your behind or your hipbones.

More tears welled in your eyes as the shock and agony consumed you. The tears blurred your vision, and your body trembled uncontrollably. The brutal reality of his power and your helplessness was more evident than ever.

“Did I tell you to fucking move or not?”, he hissed.

You shook your head, too terrified to speak, your cheek still stinging from his slap. Every part of you ached, the pain almost unbearable. Yet, amidst the physical agony, the emotional toll weighed even heavier.

He positioned himself again, his grip on your hip like a vice.

With that, he pushed inside you with one hard and deep thrust that nearly had you vomiting from the pain. He knew how tight you were and how big he was. You always struggled even when you were wet, but now it was just excruciatingly painful. You could swear he had ripped you apart with just that one thrust. You cried out, the agony overwhelming every sense.

Ignoring your cries and sobs, he pulled back, his movements devoid of any compassion. With brutal force, he pushed right back inside, all the way, making you feel like you were being torn apart anew. Each thrust was a reminder of your helplessness, a brutal testament to his dominance.

Your mind struggled to cope with the pain and the violation, each moment stretching into an eternity. The tears continued to fall, each sob a desperate plea for mercy that went unheard.

As he continued, his breath heavy and labored, he muttered under his breath, "You're mine. You need to learn to behave".

You kept whimpering breathlessly, your body barely able to keep up with the intensity of his movements. The room seemed to close in around you, the walls pressing in with the weight of your fear and pain.

Ben grunted, his voice thick with frustration and anger. "I don't want to do this", he spat, "but you leave me no other choice".

Each word was like a dagger to your already fragile spirit, the cruelty of his actions and his justification for them making the situation even more unbearable. You tried to stifle your sobs, but the pain and fear were too overwhelming.

"Why can't you just do as you're told?", he growled, his grip on your hips tightening painfully. "Why do you have to make everything so difficult?".

The desperation in his voice mingled with his rage, creating a terrifying mix of emotions that left you feeling utterly powerless.

His grip softened slightly, and his tone shifted, almost pleading. “Just say you’ve learned your lesson”, he muttered, “so I can stop”.

Through your tears and pain, you managed to whisper, “I’ve learned my lesson”. The words felt hollow, but you hoped they would be enough to make this torment end.

Ben’s movements slowed, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “That isn’t enough”, he said harshly. “You need to mean it”.

Desperation clawed at your heart, and you struggled to find the words that would convince him. “I… I mean it, Ben”, you stammered, forcing as much sincerity into your voice as you could muster. “I’ve learned my lesson. Please, just stop”.

For a moment, he seemed to hesitate, but then he continued, his grip tightening once more. Each thrust felt like it was breaking you further, both physically and emotionally. You bit your lip, trying to hold back the sobs that threatened to escape.

Finally, with a grunt of satisfaction, he finished inside you. The violation felt even more complete, a harsh reminder of his dominance. He released you abruptly, and you collapsed against the counter, your body trembling and tears streaming down your face.

“Remember this”, he said coldly, his breath still heavy. “Next time, you won’t get off so easily”.

As he pulled away and adjusted his clothes, you remained where you were, too shaken to move. The silence that followed was suffocating, each breath you took a painful reminder of what you had endured.

"Get cleaned up", he ordered, his voice devoid of any sympathy. "You look like a fucking mess".

His words stung, but you forced yourself to move, your body aching with every step. You made your way to the bathroom, each movement a struggle. Once inside, you closed the door behind you and locked it, leaning against the sink for support.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, the image almost too much to bear. The tear-streaked face, the swollen cheek, the haunted look in your eyes—it all felt like a nightmare you couldn't wake up from.

Turning on the faucet, you splashed cold water on your face, trying to wash away the tears and the pain. As the water trickled down, you took deep breaths, willing yourself to find some semblance of composure.

With trembling hands, you reached for a washcloth. Just then, you noticed the small blood droplets trickling down your inner thighs. The sight made your breath catch in your throat, the stark evidence of your ordeal adding another layer of shock to your already overwhelmed senses.

You pressed the washcloth against your skin, trying to clean the blood as gently as possible, but the pain made you wince. The cold water did little to numb the sting, both physical and emotional. Each wipe reminded you of the violation, the brutality of Ben’s actions.

As you continued to clean yourself up, your mind raced.

After what felt like an eternity, you finally managed to clean yourself up. You dressed in fresh clothes, trying to cover the bruises and marks as best as you could. Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself, knowing you had to face Ben again.

Opening the bathroom door, you stepped out cautiously. Ben was still in the living room, his expression unreadable. You avoided his gaze, but as you walked towards the bedroom, Ben called after you, stopping you in your tracks. Your heart raced and your hands started to tremble again. Every step made you wince in pain, but you turned around and walked back towards him, bracing yourself for whatever was to come next.

You stood in the doorway, wearing a thin, long soft sweatshirt and matching pants that you hoped would hide the bruises and marks. Ben’s expression was still unreadable, but his voice was softer now, almost deceptively gentle.

“Come closer”, he ordered, a hint of something unreadable in his tone.

You hesitated, every instinct screaming at you to stay away, but you knew better than to disobey him now. Taking a deep breath, you took a few steps closer, each movement sending jolts of pain through your body.

He watched you intently, his eyes following your every move. “You know why I had to do that, right?”, he asked, his voice still soft but carrying an underlying threat.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. The fear and anxiety were almost overwhelming, but you forced yourself to remain calm, to not provoke him further.

“Good”, he said, his tone slightly more approving. “I don’t want to hurt you, but you need to know how to behave”.

You swallowed.

“Come here”, he said, extending a hand towards you.

You walked over to him slowly, each step a reminder of the pain and fear you were trying to suppress. When you reached him, Ben’s grip was surprisingly gentle as he pulled you onto his lap, positioning you so that you were straddling his hips.

The change in his demeanor was disorienting. He had been so brutal just moments before, and now he was almost tender. His hands rested on your hips, the same place where his grip had been vice-like earlier.

“You know I do this because I care about you”, he murmured, his eyes searching yours.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure. The closeness was suffocating, yet you forced yourself to nod, to agree, to do whatever it took to keep him calm. “I understand”, you whispered, though the words felt like ashes in your mouth.

Ben’s hands moved up and down your sides, almost in a soothing manner. “Good”, he said softly.

You nodded again, your heart pounding in your chest. His touch, though gentle now, was a reminder of the power he wielded over you.

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, and for a moment, it almost felt normal.

With that, his attention turned back to his joint and the TV, his grip on you still firm but now gentle. He held you close, his arms wrapped around you as if trying to erase the brutality of earlier with this forced tenderness. The flickering light from the TV cast shadows across the room, adding to the surreal feeling of the moment.

You sat there, straddling his hips, your body tense and your mind racing. Every muscle screamed for you to get away, to find a safe place, but you knew better than to try and leave now. Ben’s mood could change in an instant, and you couldn’t risk provoking him again.

He adjusted his hold on you, pulling you even closer. “See, this is nice”, he murmured, almost to himself. “I just want us to be close”.

You nodded slightly, not trusting your voice to remain steady. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat a reminder of the precariousness of your situation. His words and actions were so contradictory that it was hard to grasp any sense of stability or safety.

As he focused on the TV, you tried to find a place of calm within yourself. The physical closeness was suffocating, but you forced yourself to breathe slowly, to remain as composed as possible.

He felt your heart still racing and brushed his hand gently over your back. “Relax”, he mumbled, his touch soft and almost soothing. It was as if he was afraid to hurt you now. The gentleness felt like a cruel twist.

“I love you”, he murmured, his voice filled with a strange mix of sincerity and possessiveness. The words hit you hard, bringing fresh tears to your eyes. How could someone who claimed to love you inflict so much pain and fear?

You swallowed hard, trying to keep the tears at bay, but they fell anyway, silently streaming down your cheeks.

Ben’s hand continued to move slowly over your back, as if he believed that this moment of tenderness could erase the horror of what had just happened. “You know that, right?”, he asked softly, his eyes searching yours for affirmation.

You nodded, your throat too tight to speak.“I know”, you whispered finally, your voice barely audible.

Ben brushed your tears away gently with his thumb, his touch surprisingly tender. “Come on, baby, stop crying”, he whispered, his voice a strange mix of concern and possessiveness. His fingers traced the path of your tears.

You nodded slightly, though the tears continued to fall. His gentleness now felt almost surreal. It was hard to reconcile these two sides of him, the loving and the violent.

“Shh, it’s okay”, he murmured, pulling you closer against his chest. “I don’t want to see you cry”.

You pressed your face into his shoulder, hiding your tears from him, but they kept coming. The conflicting emotions within you were too much to contain.

“Just relax”, he said again, his hand continuing to stroke your back. “Everything’s going to be okay”.

He gently pressed you closer by your hips, and you instantly shook and cried out in pain. Ben’s eyes widened with genuine concern. “Does it hurt?”, he asked, his voice softer, his hand hesitating on your hip.

You nodded, biting your lip to stifle the sobs. “Yes”, you whispered, unable to meet his gaze.

A look of confusion and something akin to regret flickered across his face. “I’m sorry”, he murmured, his hand loosening its grip. “I didn’t mean to hurt you that much”.

The sincerity in his voice was disorienting, making it even harder to process the rollercoaster of emotions. You wanted to believe the gentler side of him, but the pain and fear were too fresh, too real.

“It’s okay”, you said softly, more out of a need to pacify him than anything else. You knew you had to keep him calm, to avoid provoking another outburst.

“Come on”, he whispered softly, “let’s get you to bed”. He stood up, carrying you with him, his movements careful and measured as if trying not to cause you any more pain.

You felt a strange mix of relief and trepidation as he held you. His gentleness now was in such stark contrast to his earlier brutality that it was hard to reconcile the two. You wrapped your arms around his neck, allowing yourself to be carried.

Ben carried you to the bedroom and gently laid you down on the bed. “You need to rest”, he said, his voice still soft, but you could sense the underlying tension. “I’ll stay with you”.

You nodded slightly, too exhausted and sore to protest. The bed felt like a small haven of comfort despite the circumstances. Ben climbed in beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist, holding you close but carefully avoiding your sore spots.

He stroked your hair gently, as if trying to soothe away the pain he had caused. "You need to rest", he repeated softly, his breath warm against your ear.

You closed your eyes, trying to focus on your breathing.

"Everything's going to be alright", Ben murmured, his voice low and almost hypnotic.

As the minutes ticked by, you felt the exhaustion from the day's events start to take over. Your body ached, each bruise and mark a painful reminder.

Ben's grip on your waist tightened slightly, as if he sensed your thoughts. "I love you", he whispered again, his voice tinged with a desperation that made your heart ache.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to respond. "I love you too", you whispered.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 

[zepskies]

Series Masterlist - Take Me Home

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 

Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you both have a past you’re running from. 

AN: Welcome to my first ever Big Sky series! This is set towards the beginning of season 3.

Series Tags/Warnings: (**18+ only!) Angst and grief/trauma, PTSD, canon murder mystery, eventual smut.

🎵 Listen While You Read: The TMH Music Playlist (YouTube)

Chapters:

Part 1: All of Her Days

Part 2: It's Not Right, But It's Okay

Part 3: Welcome Home

Part 4: A Past & Future Thing

Part 5: Not That Simple

Part 6: A Man or a Coward

Part 7: On the Edge of a Knife

Part 8: Take Me Home

Part 9: A Choice to Make

Series complete!

Bonus One-Shots:

A Good Man Is Hard to Find** When Beau starts pulling away from you and Emily during a very difficult case, will the pressure make or break your relationship?

A Crime of Passion** When Beau Arlen decides to “make it up to you,” he’s damn thorough.

S.I.N.G.** Beau wishes you’d take this self-defense lesson a little more seriously.

Echoes Beau has another rough night, but you help him face a harder truth.

Ko-Fi Me ☕

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Series Tag List:

Comment below if you’d like to be tagged in this series!

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[shaypie67]

𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐀𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲

Summary: Ben has been being an asshole lately and decides to make it up to you. (NO SMUT)

Pairing: Soldier Boy (The Boys) x Reader

Warnings: Bad Language/Cursing.

Word Count: 722

"Will you stop?" I snap at him from where I'm trying to wash the dishes, getting a little distracted as he comes up behind me, pulling my tightly against him.

He just huffs and stands back, crossing his arms over his chest.

"What is your problem?" He scowls back at me.

I huff and drop a plate onto the table so hard it almost breaks as I turn to look at him.

"My problem is... we just had a massive dinner and I'm the one who has to do the dishes and clean the house when I feel like dropping to sleep because all you can think of is your cock!"

He clenches his jaw and scoffs a little bit, turning away from me.

"That's not my fucking job! It's the woman's and the last time I checked it was you!"

I take a deep breath, staring at him with tears glazing my eyes, thinking he was getting better at adjusting to the new worlds, only to be brought back to the beginning.

"Screw you!" I argue back through gritted teeth and throw the sponge down too and storm off into the bedroom.

Ben stands there quietly, surprised by your outburst. He feels the guilt rise in him and lets out a sigh, running a hand through his hair.

He knows how much you do for him, despite him being an ass and feels bad for blowing up in your face. Knowing he has to make it up to you somehow.

He looks around the kitchen and living room, looking at all the dirty plates and pots from where they had a joint dinner with Annie and Hughie. He nods again and grabs the sponge, grimacing at washing the wet food off the plates and buzzes around until the entire apartment is clean and he's panting heavily. Surprised by how much effort it took, but glad he did it for you.

He walks into the bedroom and sees you lying on the bed, nose in one of your favourite books. He steps closer and lays down on the bed next to you, grabbing your book and moving it to the nightstand.

I look over at Ben confused, still upset with him so I choose to stay quiet.

He takes a deep breath, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulls your back to his chest, letting out a sigh into your neck as he hugs you close. Whispering into your ear.

"I'm sorry."

I look down at his hand on my waist, taking a deep breath myself as I hear his small apology, knowing that probably took a lot out of him to admit. I smile a little and interlace my fingers with his, leaning into his hold.

"It's okay... I was just tired and didn't feel like doing a deep clean on the kitchen" I reply quietly, feeling his thumb rub my knuckles as he kisses the back of my neck.

"You don't have to. I finished it for you."

That makes me pause, turning over to look at his smirking face a little dumbfounded.

"You... washed the kitchen?"

He chuckles a little at your reaction to him actually getting off his ass and doing something for once, but he doesn't act too smug about it.

"Yes. And FYI, we're getting a dishwasher. Touching wet food from the bowl was nasty." His nose scrunches up, remembering the odd soggy feeling he powered through.

I can't help but laugh at his facial expression, using my hand to cup his cheek, kissing him softly on the lips, sighing softly when I feel him kiss me back. I pull away and barely speak above a whisper.

"Thank you."

He doesn't reply and just pulls you down onto his chest, wrapping an arm around your back to keep you close to him.

"Now no more whining, I'll buy the dishwasher so neither of us have to clean again." He grumbles in his usual grumpy tone, but I notice more of a humored tone than any anger behind it. So I just close my eyes and nuzzle into his chest, enjoying the warmth.

"Goodnight, Ben." I say before closing my eyes, letting sleep take me after the long day.

He hums in reply before kissing your forehead softly, replying in a barely audible tone.

"Night, Doll."

THE END

[cheynovak]

When we were young - Part 3 

Ben (Soldier Boy) Harrison x F/Reader Y/N             

Contains/warnings: 18+, implied smut, angst, fluff, hurt, trauma, time jump, going crazy, mental issues, drugs/ alcohol abuse, ...   

Side note: English isn’t my first language      

Words:  6300

 Last chapter

*Does not follow the boys storyline – first 2 chapters set in a time period where Ben was not yet a supe. Since we don’t know his last name, I came up with Harrison for this story.*   

-- 

Y/N is a young girl who works with her mother as a maid in the household of Mr. Harrison and his son Ben. Since Ben was mostly in boarding school and Y/N till this summer in a normal school, they got to know each other very well.  

One summer everything changed when Ben confessed his love for Y/N right before leaving for the war. Leaving her alone, when he comes back feels like he doesn’t deserve him, afraid what she would say now that she is ‘soldier boy’ a man with many flaws.  

But when he hears she died of heartache, he feels responsible, his grief and pain hunts him in a form he can’t ignore... Y/N.  

--  

1973 

Ben leaned heavily against the bar, the combination of alcohol and something far stronger coursing through his veins. The party was in full swing around him, the opulent ballroom filled with laughter, music, and the clinking of glasses.  

Women in glamorous dresses flocked around him, their eyes sparkling with the thrill of being near a living legend. He smirked, the familiar feeling of adoration washing over him, but tonight, it felt hollow.  

As he sipped his drink, a flash of movement caught his eye. He turned his head, scanning the crowd, and then he saw her. For a moment, he thought his mind was playing tricks on him.  

She stood in the shadows, her face partially obscured, but there was no mistaking it. It was Y/N, the woman he had lost so many years ago, looking exactly as she had in the 1940s.His heart pounded in his chest, a mix of hope and confusion.  

"No way," he muttered to himself. "She can't be..." He took a step forward, his focus narrowing solely on her. He was barely aware of the people around him, the music fading into the background.  

Each step felt like a mile, his breath hitching with each movement. She turned slightly, their eyes meet, and he was sure it was her. The same eyes, the same posture – it was impossible, and yet there she was.  

Just as he was about to reach her, a hand gripped his arm, pulling him back. He turned, his eyes wild, to find Crimson Countess standing there. Her expression supposed to be concern but felt cold.

"Ben, what are you doing?" she asked, her voice barely audible over the din of the party. "It's her" he mumbled, his voice rough. Crimson Countess shook her head gently. "Her? You've had a lot to drink, and God knows what else. You need to calm down, people are looking." 

He looked back over his shoulder, his heart sinking. The spot where Y/N had stood was now empty. "No," he breathed. "She was right there. I saw her." Countess tightened her grip on his arm. "Come on, Ben. Let's get you out of here. You're not going well on what you took tonight."  

Ben resisted, his eyes darting around the room, searching for any sign of her. But she was gone, as if she had never been there. The weight of the years pressed down on him, the alcohol and drugs no longer dulling the pain.  

The ache of loss and the cruel twist of fate left him feeling hollow. “Let's go," Countess said softly, guiding him away from the crowd. He allowed himself to be led, his mind spinning with what he had seen or thought he had seen.  

Y/N, was there. He was sure of it, he saw her. But now, as the party buzzed around him and Countess's steady presence kept him grounded, he couldn't help but wonder if it had all been a hallucination, a trick of his fractured mind.  

As they left the room, he cast one last look over his shoulder, hoping for another glimpse, another sign. But there was nothing. Only the memories of a love long gone, and the haunting image of a face from the past that refused to fade. 

-- 

1950 

Many years after the war ended, Ben finally returned home. The weight of his actions during the war hung heavily on him, and the thought of facing Y/N filled him with both hope and dread.  

He knew he had done things as Soldier Boy that made him afraid to return home. As he walked up the familiar path to his family's home, memories of Y/N flooded his mind. Her smile, her laughter, the way she had looked at him with such trust and love.  

He had promised to come back for her, and now he was finally here. Hoping she could forgive him. But the war had changed him, and he feared how she would see him now. He pushed open the front door, the creak of the hinges echoing in the empty cold hallway.  

His father emerged from the living room, the smell of alcohol preceding him. His face was red, eyes bloodshot, and there was an anger in his expression that Ben had grown used to but never fully accepted.  

"Well, look who's finally decided to come home," his father slurred, swaying slightly. "The big hero." Ben could see how much his father had aged and changed. "Dad, I..." Ben began, but his father cut him off.  

"Don't you 'Dad' me," he snapped. "You think you can just waltz back in here after what you've done? After leaving us all behind?" Ben swallowed hard, trying to keep his temper in check.  

"I came back to see Y/N..." His father's expression darkened, and he laughed bitterly. "Y/N? You came back for her? Well, you're pretty late, aren’t you boy!" Ben's heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean?" His father took a swig from the bottle he was holding and then pointed a shaking finger at Ben.  

"She waited for you. She waited and waited, hoping you'd come back. But you never did. And it broke her heart." A cold dread settled in Ben's stomach. "What... what do you mean?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.  

"She got ill short after realisation you never wanted her." his father said, his tone shifting from anger to a bitter resignation. "She got ill from missing you so much. I thought it was like her mother, but...” He stopped to change his sentence.  

“I found her one morning, in your room. On your bed. She was gone." He looked his son in his eyes, not even now he won’t show Ben any emotions. Ben felt like the ground had opened up beneath him.  

"No," he whispered, shaking his head. "No, that can't be true." His father nodded, "She was a fine woman. I asked her to marry me, you know. Thought I could give her a good life, take care of her. Give her stability.” 

“But she asked to wait for an answer until you were back home. Now I see she was just waiting for you to come back so she could run away." Ben stumbled back, the weight of his father's words crashing down on him.  

The image of Y/N, lying in his bed, waiting for him, crying, was too much to bear. He had waited to come home to her until he thought he was worthy, afraid to show her the addiction to drugs and alcohol, but knowing this... this was something else entirely.  

"I didn't know," he said, his voice cracking. "I didn't know she..." "Of course, you didn't," his father said, his tone harsh. "You were too busy being a hero, too busy to even write a letter... probably too busy covering yourself in cheap women.”  

He took another sip. “Well, now you know. And now you have to live with it." Ben turned and fled the house, the walls closing in on him. He ran down the street, the familiar sights of his hometown blurring as tears filled his eyes.  

He kept running until he reached the edge of town, where he collapsed on a grassy hill overlooking the fields he had once known so well. That night, the weight of his father's words still pressing heavily on his heart, Ben returned to the house.  

The quiet of the night offered a strange solace, the town asleep and unaware of the turmoil inside him. He moved silently, his steps barely a whisper on the old wooden floors. He had to see her room.  

He needed to feel close to her one last time, to understand her pain, and perhaps to find some fragment of the life she had lived while he was gone. He made his way to the back of the house, where her room had been.  

The door creaked as he pushed it open, and he stood there for a moment, letting the memories wash over him. The room was exactly as he remembered it, though dustier and more forlorn.  

He moved to her bed, the faint scent of her still lingered on the pillow, a bittersweet reminder of the woman he had lost. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, trying to capture that last essence of her, to hold onto it like a lifeline. After a while, he sat up, his eyes scanning the room.  

A small trashcan in the corner caught his attention. He approached it and saw remnants of burned paper inside. Carefully, he sifted through the ashes, finding fragments of letters and notes, their edges singed and blackened.  

Among them, he recognized pieces of the book he had given her when they were kids. It had been a cherished gift, one they had read together countless times. His heart ached as he sifted through the remains, piecing together the love and memories they had shared. 

Then, at the bottom of the trashcan, he found something else a journal, its cover scorched but intact. He pulled it out, his hands trembling, and opened it. The diary was filled with Y/N's handwriting, pages upon pages of her thoughts, fears, and hopes. As he flipped through the pages.  

Tears streamed down his face as he read her words, her pain and love laid bare on the pages. She had never given up on him, even in her final moments. She had believed in him, loved him, and waited for him until she could wait no longer.  

Among the journal entries, he found one that stopped him cold. It was a letter she had written to him but had never sent. In it, she poured out her heart, telling him how much she loved him and how she had dreamed of the day he would come back.  

She spoke of her sorrow, her confusion, and her unwavering belief that he would return, on how his father had offered her stability in marriage but she rather have a life full of challenges with him. How she begged for him to write, at least letting her know he thought of her.  

He had to get out of there, to take these pieces of her with him. He couldn't leave her behind again. As he looked around the room one last time, he spotted something else, a robe draped over a chair. It was her robe, the one he had always joked about how ugly he thought it was.  

He remembered the way it had wrapped around her, somehow she could make it look beautiful. He took it, feeling the fabric between his fingers, the faint scent of her still clinging to it.  

With the journal and the robe in his arms, Ben slipped out of the house never to return again. 

-- 

1973

Ben woke up with the remnants of his dream or memory still lingering but now overshadowed by a strange, unsettling clarity. The room was dark, the only light coming from the dim glow of the city outside.  

He rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the lingering haze of sleep, when he saw her again. Y/N was sitting in the corner of the room, her back to him, combing her hair in front of the mirror. The sight was so surreal, so impossibly real, that he felt his breath catch in his throat. 

He pushed himself up, elbows on his knees, staring at her. "Y/N?" he called out, his voice trembling. She didn't respond, just kept looking at him through the mirror, that enigmatic smile never wavering. Slowly, she put down the comb and turned to face him.  

He watched, mesmerized, as she walked across the room, her movements fluid and graceful. When she reached him, she didn't say a word. She climbed onto the bed, her weight sinking into the mattress beside him, and then onto his lap.  

Ben was mesmerised, his mind racing with disbelief and longing. "How?" he managed to say, his hands reaching out to touch her, to make sure she was real. His fingers brushed her cheek, her skin warm and soft beneath his touch.  

She remained silent, her eyes locked onto his, filled with a mixture of love and something he couldn't quite place. She raised a hand, gently touching his face, tracing the lines of his jaw and the rough stubble of his chin.  

"Y/N," he said again, his voice cracking. "I thought you were gone. How are you here?" Still, she didn't speak. Instead, she leaned in, pressing her forehead against his, her breath warm against his skin. He closed his eyes, the reality of her presence overwhelming him. The feel of her in his arms, the scent of her hair... it was all too real, too vivid to be a dream. 

For a moment, he let himself believe. He let himself be lost in the sensation of having her close, the years of pain and loss melting away. But as he opened his eyes, he saw something flicker in hers, something that reminded him of the fleeting glimpse he had caught at the party.  

"Are you... real?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. Her smile remained, but there was a sadness in her eyes, a sadness that spoke of truths he wasn't ready to face. She cupped his face in her hands, her touch tender and loving, and for a brief, heartbreaking moment, it felt like everything was right again.  

She leaned in and kissed him, her lips soft ambut cold against his. Ben felt a jolt of emotion course through him, a mix of longing, love, and sorrow. His hands moved instinctively to the small of her back, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss.  

The sensation of her, the taste and feel of her, was so achingly familiar and yet tinged with the surreal. But as their kiss lingered, he felt a shiver run through her, a subtle tremor that hinted at the impermanence of this moment.  

He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against hers, their breaths mingling in the small space between them. "Y/N," he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of desperation and hope. "How is this possible? How are you here?" She looked into his eyes, her gaze filled with a depth of emotion that he could barely comprehend.  

Her fingers gently stroked his cheek, and for a moment, he thought he saw a tear glistening in the corner of her eye. As she pulled away, she rested her head on his shoulder, her arms wrapping around him in a tender embrace. He held her close, his eyes closed, savouring the feeling of her against him.  

"Please," he murmured, his voice breaking. "Don't leave me again." But as he blinked, she began to fade, her form dissolving into the darkness. He reached out, trying to hold onto her, but she slipped through his fingers like mist. "No, no, no," he murmured, panic rising in his chest. "Don't go." 

She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, she pressed another kiss to his lips, softer this time, more lingering before she vanished.  

-- 

Later that day, Ben felt like a shadow of himself, the memory of Y/N's visit haunting him. He couldn't shake the image of her sadness, the unspoken words lingering in the air. He needed to know what had happened to her, needed to understand how she could appear to him now.  

The questions gnawed at him, eating away at his already fragile state. Driven by a desperate need for answers, Ben stormed into Vought International, his presence causing a ripple of unease among the employees.  

He demanded to see someone who could help, his voice rough and insistent. He wasn't leaving without answers. Within moments, he was ushered into a conference room where an executive awaited him, flanked by a couple of assistants.  

The executive, a middle-aged man with greying hair and a stern expression, greeted Ben with a mix of respect and apprehension. "Soldier Boy," he began, "what can we do for you today?"  

Ben wasted no time with pleasantries. "I need you to look into someone. Her name was Y/N Y/L/N. All I know is that she died somewhere between 1945 and 1950. I need to know if that's true, and... where she is buried." The executive exchanged a glance with his assistants, then nodded.  

"We'll get our team on it immediately. It might take some time to gather the information, but we'll find out what we can." Ben's jaw tightened. "Make it fast. I can't wait."

Hours later, Ben's phone on the nightstand rang, jarring him from his thoughts.  

He picked it up, half-expecting another vague update. Instead, the executive's voice sounded more urgent. "Soldier Boy, we've uncovered something unexpected. There are no official records indicating that Y/N ever died."  

Ben froze, his grip tightening around the phone. "What do you mean? My father told me she died." "Your father might have believed that, but our investigation shows no death certificate, no funeral records, nothing." 

A mix of confusion and hope surged through him. He hung up to phone.  

From that moment on, Ben started to spiral. The encounter with Y/N had left him raw and vulnerable, unable to shake the feeling that he was being haunted by her memory. Payback, his team, began to notice the changes in him.  

They heard him talking to himself, having one-sided conversations that made little sense to them. His behaviour grew more erratic, his temper shorter. One night, the emptiness inside him became too much to bear.  

He found himself in a lavish hotel suite, the remnants of a wild party scattered around him. A few girls lay sprawled across his bed, asleep or too intoxicated to notice him leave the room. He sneaked into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.  

His reflection in the mirror was a stark reminder of how far he had fallen. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair dishevelled. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bag of cocaine.  

He poured some out onto the counter, forming neat lines with a credit card. He bent over, ready to numb the pain, to escape the haunting memories that plagued him. As he took a sniff, he felt a presence behind him.  

He looked up into the mirror and saw her. Y/N stood there, her expression a mix of sorrow and disappointment. "Is this the reason you didn't come home to me?" she asked, her voice soft but piercing. 

Ben froze, the mirror reflecting his horror. He turned slowly to face her, the bag of cocaine slipping from his fingers and scattering across the floor. "Y/N," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I... I..." She stepped closer, her eyes never leaving his.  

"You promised you'd come back. You never came for me. Instead, you’re destroying yourself." Her words cut through him like a knife. "I did come back," he said, tears welling up in his eyes. "I looked for you. I tried..."  

She reached out, her touch cold and intangible, yet it sent a shiver down his spine. "You need to stop this, Ben. This isn't the boy I knew. This isn't who you promised to be." Ben sank to the floor, his back against the cold tile.  

"I don't know how to be that person anymore, it’s been so long." he admitted. Y/N knelt beside him, her gaze unwavering. He looked up at her, searching her eyes for the forgiveness he desperately needed.  

"I’m so sorry," he whispered. "You promised." She whispered with a sad smile. When he stood up, the bathroom was empty, and the cocaine was still scattered on the floor. A surge of anger boiled up inside him, a mix of frustration, guilt, and helplessness. He couldn't handle the whirlwind of emotions any longer.  

With a roar of rage, he swung his fist into the mirror, shattering it into a thousand pieces, only to fuel his fury. He stormed out of the bathroom, his eyes wild and unfocused.  

The girls on the bed woke up, startled by the noise. They saw Ben, his face contorted with anger, and panic set in. He started trashing the room, throwing furniture, tearing down curtains, and smashing anything within reach. The sound of breaking glass and splintering wood filled the air.  

"Get out!" he shouted, his voice a terrifying roar. "Get out, all of you!" The girls scrambled off the bed, fear etched on their faces. They grabbed their clothes, not daring to look back as they fled the room. The door slammed shut behind them, leaving Ben alone in the chaos he had created.  

He stood in the wreckage, his chest heaving, the adrenaline slowly ebbing away. The room was a disaster, a reflection of his inner turmoil. Broken glass and overturned furniture surrounded him, but the anger was starting to subside, leaving a hollow emptiness in its wake. Ben sank to the floor, burying his face in his hands.  

-- 

Ben kept seeing Y/N every now and then, mostly on moments or days he felt he had fucked up, even in Russia, in his dreams. The cold, sterile environment of his captivity was a constant reminder of his reality, but every time he closed his eyes, there she was.  

The hallucinations had become his only solace, a fleeting escape from the nightmare he was living. Today was no exception. As he drifted off, he found himself in a pitch-black room, the darkness punctuated only by the soft glow around Y/N.  

She sat on a bed, wearing the same nightgown she had worn the last night they spent together. The sight of her brought a pang of bittersweet nostalgia. He walked towards her, his eyes roaming her body, taking in every detail as if afraid she might vanish again.  

She rose gracefully, her movements slow and deliberate, and reached out to him. Her touch was cold, but familiar, a paradox he had come to accept.  

"Ben," she whispered, her voice like a soothing balm to his tormented soul. Without a word, she guided him towards the bed. He sat down, and she moved behind him, gently pulling him back until his head rested against her chest. Her hands stroked his hair, her touch tender and calming. "Why are you here?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. 

"Because you need me," she replied softly. "Don't you want me here?" He looked up at her. "Of course I do." The darkness a cocoon that held them in a moment outside of time. He could feel the rise and fall of her breath, the rhythm a comforting lullaby. The scent of her, faint and sweet, filled his senses. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice cracking.  

"I'm sorry for everything. I should have been there for you." She hushed him, her fingers tracing soothing patterns on his scalp. "I know." He closed his eyes, letting the warmth of her presence wash over him.  

The guilt and regret that had haunted him for so long seemed to dissolve, replaced by a profound sense of acceptance. For the first time in years, he felt a flicker of hope. "Stay with me," he pleaded, his voice filled with longing.  

"I'm always with you," she replied, her voice a soothing balm in the oppressive darkness. "Please," he whispered, his voice tinged with desperation. "Stay a little longer, just like this." She kissed the top of his head, her lips soft and reassuring. Her hands moved to his chest, her touch comforting. It was a sensation he had longed for, a connection he had been deprived of for so many years. Making him breath out a deep breath.  

He leaned into her, savouring every moment. His hand moved over her thigh beside him, the familiar feel of her skin grounding him in this surreal experience. He closed his eyes, focusing on the rhythm of her breathing, the gentle rise and fall that seemed to sync with his own.  

"I miss you," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "I know," she replied, her fingers tracing gentle circles on his chest. "You need to find your strength, Ben. You need to keep fighting." Her words, though a comfort, carried an urgency he couldn't ignore.  

He knew she was right, that he had to keep going, had to survive. But in this moment, he allowed himself to sink into the comfort of her presence, to feel the love they once shared. "Just a little longer," he pleaded, his hand tightening around her thigh.  

She sighed softly. "I'll stay as long as you need me, if you promise me to fight." Ben looked up at her, his eyes tracing every detail of her face, the curve of her lips, the softness of her gaze, the way her hair framed her face. It was as if he was seeing her for the first time all over again, every feature etched into his memory with painful clarity.  

"I promise," he said, his voice resolute. "I promise I'll fight." A small, sad smile touched her lips. "That's all I needed to hear." Her hands moved to his chest again, the warmth of her touch spreading through him like a balm.  

He felt his own hand move gently over her thigh beside him. Her fingers moved over his chest to his shoulders, it triggered something deep within him, a surge of emotions and desires he had buried for so long. Unable to hold back, he turned around to face her fully. 

"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice filled with a mix of surprise and curiosity. He gazed into her eyes, his own reflecting a determination that had been absent for years. "Something I should have done a long time ago," he replied, his voice thick with emotion.  

"I love you, Y/N" Before she could respond, he pulled her beneath him, capturing her lips in a deep, passionate kiss. It was a kiss filled with all the longing, regret, and love he had. But as the kiss deepened and the heat between them grew, he suddenly pulled back, breathing heavily.  

He laid back down beside her, resting his head on her chest, giving him a sense of peace he hadn't felt in years. Her presence, whether real or a figment of his imagination, was a comfort that eased the ache in his heart.  

As the dream began to dissolve, he felt her slipping away, her touch growing faint. He held onto the sensation as long as he could, etching it into his memory. "Remember," she whispered in his ear, her voice echoing in the void. "I'm always with you."  

He woke with a start, the cold, harsh reality of his cell closing in around him. But this time, he felt different. The lingering warmth of Y/N's touch and the echo of her words filled him with a renewed determination. He would survive this. He would find a way out. 

-- 

‘Present day’ 

Ben, Butcher, and Hughie walked purposefully towards Mindstorm's location, the tension palpable in the air. As they approached, Ben's senses sharpened, and he heard a faint whisper, causing him to stop abruptly.  "Ben..."

"What did you say?" Ben asked, his voice low and serious, his eyes scanning the surroundings. Butcher glanced at him, puzzled. "Nothing, mate. No one said anything," he replied gruffly, exchanging a glance with Hughie, who shook his head in confusion. Ben frowned but shook off the strange sensation, focusing on the task at hand.  

They reached Mindstorm's hideout, and Hughie swiftly executed the plan to transport him out. In the midst of the chaos, but his plan didn’t work out.  

Ben acted with deadly precision, throwing a knife that found its mark in Mindstorm's eye. As Mindstorm lay incapacitated, Ben approached him, his features hardened with resolve. He pulled a bag over Mindstorm's head and knelt beside him, his voice low and menacing. 

"Who gave you the order?" Ben demanded, his tone laced with barely restrained anger. Mindstorm whimpered, blood oozing from his injured eye. "Please, don't kill me. I'll tell you about her...," he pleaded, his voice trembling.  

Mindstorm swallowed hard. "She's alive... Y/N" he gasped. "Vought found her in the '70s, after you asked them to find her. They... they kept her. She's a supe now." Ben's heart pounded in his chest, conflicting emotions swirling within him, hope, disbelief, anger.  

"You're lying," he growled, but a flicker of doubt clouded his mind. "I swear, she's alive," Mindstorm insisted, desperation colouring his words. "I can tell you where to find her." Ben hesitated, his mind grappling with conflicting emotions as Mindstorm pleaded for his life and claimed Y/N's existence.  

Despite his scepticism, a glimmer of hope flickered within him, a chance, however small, that she might truly be alive. "Tell me," Ben demanded, his voice strained with both desperation and suspicion. "Tell me everything you know about her."  

Mindstorm, sensing the gravity of the moment, began to speak, his words shaky but earnest. He recounted how Vought had discovered Y/N in the 1970s, how they had kept her hidden away, experimenting on her until her powers emerged stronger. He described her as a formidable supe now, with abilities beyond comprehension.  

Ben listened intently, each word piercing through the layers of doubt that clouded his mind. A surge of conflicting emotions washed over him, relief, anger, betrayal. His fists clenched, and without warning, he lashed out, hitting Mindstorm's shielded face over and over again. 

"You bastard," Ben growled between each strike, his rage unleashed. "You kept her from me. You let me believe she was dead." Mindstorm cried out in pain, the sound muffled by the shield, but Ben's onslaught didn't cease. Each blow was fuelled by years of grief, of searching in vain, of the agony of loss. 

He stood there, the aftermath of his actions weighing heavily on his conscience. The lifeless body of Mindstorm lay at his feet, a stark reminder of the darkness he had succumbed to in his quest for answers. As he stared down at the scene before him, a voice cut through the silence.  

"Really, Ben? Was that necessary?" The voice was achingly familiar, and Ben's heart skipped a beat. Slowly, he turned around, his eyes meeting hers, Y/N's. She stood a few feet away, her expression a mix of concern and disbelief. 

He walked away past Butcher and Hughie. Y/N followed him, once the men couldn't hear him. "Ben," she said softly, her voice filled with a mixture of emotions he couldn't quite decipher. "What happened here?" Ben tore his gaze away from her, his jaw tight with conflicting emotions.  

"I... had to," he muttered, struggling to find the right words. "He knew something... about you." Y/N's eyes widened slightly, her hand reaching out tentatively towards him. "Ben, what are you talking about? Who was he?" He shook his head, unable to meet her gaze. "It doesn't matter now," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.  

"What matters is finding you." 

---

Ben found out Y/N didn't die, his father lied, He had thrown our of his house after she didn't accept his marriage proposition. When on the street she volunteered for another one of vought supe trails.

After what seemed a failure, she discovered her power only years later. Her mind started to work in mysterious ways. She started to hear people's thoughts, move objects with her mind and if she concentrated long and hard enough she could project her mind into other spaces or peoples memories.

In the 1970s vought found her and captured her, after numerous trails and tests they considered her even more powerful than mindstorm, he was asked to help with the tests on her. But even he couldn't get a look inside her mind, losing his shit when she started to play tricks on him instead.

To keep her under control they decided to keep her locked up and in a coma, but even unconsciously she found a way back to Ben.

Ben eventually found her, in a cell beneath Godolkin University. Even though he busted her out she had been in and out the coma for the past few days. She didn't contacted him anymore since then.

Until

--

The bright light hurts my eyes when I woke up. As I tried to focus on my surroundings I saw a figuer hovering over me. A vague sound ringing in my ear. After a few seconds his face became clear.

There he was... Ben. His green eyes haven't changed a bit. His face was framed with a beard I, he looked mature, nothing like the young boy that left for the war. No, Ben had changed into a handsom man. I couldn't help but to smile when I saw him.

Even though he caused me a lot of pain I was glad he finally found me. Like I had been trying to do for the last few decades. My hand instinctively grabs his cheek, to make sure my head wasn't playing tricks on me. "Hi sweetheart." He whispered. "Hi." is mouthed.

He helped me up, I was still a little wobbly on my legs. No idea how long they kept me a sleep. I looked outside, seeing how the world had changed, I felt scared, unsure and worried. But it all disappeared the second I felt his strong arms around my waist.

With his chin softly on my shoulder he whispered "You'll get used to it. I takes time." The corner of my lip lifted softly. I looked over at him, and before I could ask him he spoke. "I did came back, too late, but I didn't forget about you." Tears welled up in my eyes.

"You should know." He continued. "I haven't been the man you wanted me to be... I made mistakes, a lot of mistakes. I fought, cheated, even murdered..." He took a deep breath. My arm moved back so my fingers could finds its way to his long hair. "I know." I said softly.

I saw his confused look. "I was there, you couldn't always see me. But I saw Ben." I looked at him, a single tear rolled down my cheek. "I didn't know... didn't know you were still alive." He said his thumb moved over my face. "It's ok, I forgive you... for anything you want me to. And I'm here now."

He smiled softly "Do you... Do you still want me?" I let out a soft giggle and turned fully around to face him. My hands helds his face before moving back over to his hair. "Ben, you read my journal, I saw it." His cheeks turned a shade of pink. "What part of, I'll always love him, don't you understand?"

My hands moved from his hair to his neck, pulling him closer, finally tasting his perfect lips again, desperately holding back a soft moan. He smiled when we broke apart. "So, what now?" I locked my eyes with his. "Now I want to do, what I wanted to do for a very, very long time."

"And that is?" He asked with a mischievous smile. I close the space between us, but didn't quite kiss him yet. "I want to make love to you and fall asleep in your arms, every night, from now on."

--

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[k-slla]

Hello, goodbye.

A/N: This is my second post for @jacklesversebingo / All mistakes are mine

Square filled: Break-Up

Warnings: Angst, mentions of alcohol, language, cheating, hurt, tiny bit of fluff/comfort

Word count: ~3.5k

My Masterlist

Staring at the bottom of your almost empty tea cup, you waited for Jensen to come home. You grabbed your phone again from the table to send him another text but ended up throwing it on the couch because your previous messages, sent yesterday around noon were left on read by him.

"Hey, babe! I know you're going to board the plane soon, but call me when you land. Miss you!❤️"

Few hours later followed by next one.

"Hey, you haven't called yet:( I know you should be home by now..I'll finish up work in a minute, see you soon!"

And before these were even more calls and messages. More "I miss you's", "Can't wait to see you's" & "Love you's". All went to voicemail or were just left on read. He's just busy, you had tried to reason this silence on his part so far. But when you got home yesterday evening, he was not there. Probably his flight got delayed or phone battery ran out you had thought but as the hours passed, you felt that it was something else. Never has he ignored you or been radio silent for this long. Another full day had passed, without him contacting you. And now you were getting more anxious by the minute. Jared should probably know where Jensen is, right? You wanted to call him but it was already past midnight so you settled on sending him a text. Maybe they went for a drinks and he forgot to tell you. Unlikely, but still a possibility.

You dragged yourself to the kitchen to make another tea, so you could try to get some sleep. While waiting for the kettle, you sent another text to him.

"Jensen, where are you? I'm worried. Call me."

You let out a frustrated sigh and cursed yourself for being such a nervous mess. You decided to ditch the tea and go straight to bed instead. You were certain that his flight was just delayed, which wouldn't exactly explain him ignoring your messages but you were probably just overthinking about everything as always.

You had no idea how long you had been asleep but when you woke up hearing the front door closing, light was dimly shining in through the blinds. Confused, you sat up in bed and looked for your phone. Almost 10am. Jared had sent two messages.

"Sorry, he's not with me:( trying to call now"

"Couldn't reach him, please let me know when he's home"

You could hear Jensen's heavy footsteps downstairs but decided to stay in bed. Mostly to see if he'd come upstairs to wake you. But he didn't, so you threw on a pair of fluffy slippers and a sweater and went downstairs. The smell of fresh coffee hit you as soon you opened the bedroom door.

You tried to stay mad at him longer, for making you worry but when you heard him humming in the kitchen, you couldn't help but smile at the sight of him. He sat at the island with his back towards you, so that gave you a perfect chance to sneak up on him. You hugged him from behind and he flinched.

"Jesus!" He quietly muttered under his breath. "Nope, just me. I missed you!" You whispered into his ear and kissed his stubbly cheek. "You scared me. I thought you were working today. Didn't see your car out." He sounded almost disappointed.

"Sorry." You smiled apologetically. " Didn't I told you that I'm taking the weekend off? We can spend it together before you have to go back." You turned around to pour yourself some coffee. "Did you your flight got delayed? I thought you were coming home on Thursday."

While you were searching for creamer from the fridge, you didn't notice Jensen tensing up at your question. You grabbed your cup and sat down across from him, looking at him questionably. 

"No, it's just- I-" he started evasively. " I just needed some time alone." You stared at him in disbelief. "What?" You asked laughing half-heartedly. "Jensen, we haven't seen each other for two months and you needed more time alone?"

"Did I do or say something?" You asked after a minute of trying to process what he told you. "You've been almost completely ignoring me for the past weeks. Actually it seems like few months even. I feel like-" You reached for his hand across the table but he pulled back. "I feel like I'm losing you."  He took a deep breath in and leaned back in his chair. "I thought- hoped actually- that you were working today, so I could figure it out how to tell you." Your breathing quickened. "Tell me what?"

Jensen looked straight into your eyes. "I'm going to file for a divorce." The coldness in his gaze and tone cut deep. You got confused for a second and squared you shoulders, forcing back tears, that were threatening to spill. You did not expect that. "But what- I mean why? Because I started talking more about having kids?" You had hoped the timing was right for the two of you to start trying at least. You had been together for over five years, married close to two now. Of course you wanted to have kids with him one day.

"I wanted to start family too but- " he stopped, looking for the right words. "I guess people change."

You scoffed. People change. People do change, but it doesn't happen almost overnight like this.

Your thoughts started to run now in one direction only. You were kicking and cursing yourself internally for allowing you even think this. "Is there someone else?" You asked, not really wanting to know the answer. Jensen's face turned stoic. "Does it matter? It's not gonna change anything." He shrugged. Anger was already slowly boiling inside you and that was the last straw.

"Of course it fucking matters, Jensen! If you're cheating on me, the least you could do is to man up and tell the truth." You snapped poisonously, got up from the chair and turned around to leave the kitchen.

"Fuck me." He muttered quietly and called after you bit louder. "Okay. Yes, I cheated on you. There. Do you feel better now?" He asked, sarcasm in his voice unmissable.

You immediately felt sick to your stomach. You turned around to face him again. "Do I feel better? Are you serious?" You were truly astounded and didn't even know how to react to his confession. You couldn't stay there anymore. You walked out of the room and tears finally broke loose. Jensen got up from his chair to follow.

"No! Just leave me alone. Please. I can't do this right now. I'll get out of here and-" you let out a sharp breath "-go to, I don't know, to Elaine's or something. "

"Of course.." he whispered. "Y/N, come on. Don't act like you're without blame here. You-" You cut into his sentence.

"How could you even say that? What did I do for you to go and cheat on me?" You hissed back at him and entered your bedroom. Jensen followed and sat on the bed, as he stared after you walking into the closet and pulling out a suitcase. "I'm sorry, Y/N. Please. Come sit down." You ignored him and started to pack your clothes. "I'll get rest of my stuff next week." You sniffled. "When you're back at work or something."

You folded your clothes sloppily and refused to look at him when he joined you in there. This was not the weekend you had imagined when he said he'll be coming back home. You were excited to finally see him again and just be together and do nothing. You had missed your husband for a long time. Apparently, he did not miss you. You quickly wiped the tears away, when Jensen came to stand behind you and put his hands on your shoulders to turn you around. "Please, Y/N. I want to talk about this. To explain."

Trying to calm yourself down, you looked straight into his eyes. "Okay. Talk."

"No. Come sit down." He nodded to the bed. He tried to guide you towards the bed but you shrugged off his hand and sat down on the bed. Leaning against the headboard, you pulled your knees to your chest. Two of you sat there for few minutes before Jensen started talking. "I really don't know how else to say it. And I don't expect you to believe but I didn't mean to hurt you this way. I'm sorry." His voice was quiet.

"I'm sorry I was such an asshole before. You just caught me off guard and I didn't know how to react."

You still couldn't wrap your mind around it. What went wrong with the two of you? "You're right. I don't believe you. You do not sleep with someone by accident. I'd try to understand- "

"Y/N, I-" You raised one hand to stop him. "No, Jensen, let me talk please. I'd try to understand you if it was just about having kids. I'd try to somehow accept it. But cheating? This was something you chose to do. And this probably wasn't a one time thing either, right?" His silence gave you the answer to your question. You nodded knowingly. "That's what I thought. You did this over and over. While I waited for you at home. Alone. Do you really think your apology will make me feel better?" You took a deep breath, silent tears were rolling down your cheeks again. Last few months had been especially hard without him. Work had gotten crazy with your boss demanding more and more from you. Yes, you had your friends and sister you kept in contact with regularly, but still at nights you felt alone.

 "Is that why you're leaving me? To move on with someone new?" You noticed Jensen tearing up. But still he didn't answer. "Jensen, please. Why can't you just tell me?" He said nothing so you got back up to finish packing. You didn't see the need to sit there and wait for him to answer. "Fine. You say you want to talk, but still won't talk to me, so I'll just go." You threw few more items from the closet into the suitcase and closed it up.

"Y/N, this is your home. You don't have to leave." He finally spoke up. "Well, I can't stay here either." You walked to the bathroom to pack some toiletries. This time Jensen didn't follow you. You closed the door and sat down on the floor. You felt a pressuring pain on the back of your head, but tried to think through it, to figure out your next steps. Of course you didn't want to actually leave, but staying in the house you and Jensen worked hard on to turn into home, would've been even harder. So you chose the easier of the two.

With a deep breath, you pulled out your phone and dialed your sister's number. She has always been very protective over you, so you knew, if you'd tell her about Jensen on the phone, she'd be over in a heartbeat to kick his ass. And he wasn't worth troubling her that much. "Hey, El. Are you busy this weekend?" You tried to sound cheerful, but you couldn't even convince yourself so she'd definitely see through it. "Hey! Not too busy. Why?" She sounded worried already. "I got an awesome idea, involving you, me, bottle of rosé and probably us passing out on your couch. How's that sound?"

She laughed at your proposal. "Definitely have time for that! What's up? Boy troubles?" You sighed and tried to compose yourself. "You could say that." She groaned loudly.

For some reason Jensen and Elaine always had some kind of beef between them. They managed to remain somewhat civil around you but when you were alone with either of them, they just couldn't hold back on straight on bitching about the other. Which was the main cause of your headaches for the past years and made the family gatherings rather uncomfortable. Well, two less things for you to worry about now.

"Do I have come over and kick his ass? Because you know I would."  She said this jokingly, but you knew that there was some truth hidden there. "No! I'll be over soon. See you!"

"Oh, he really messed up this time, huh?" She asked and followed it up quickly. "Well, bring snacks then!"  There was a short pause on the line. "And more wine. Maybe some cake? I'll do the counseling, I think I'll deserve some afterwards."

"Of course. Thank you. Alright, see you soon." You said quietly.

You ended the call and reality pulled you back in. Talking with Elaine always calmed you down. Made you forget your problems, even if just for a moment. You sighed deeply and got up to now actually pack up some necessities.

Few minutes later you stood at the bathroom door, staring at Jensen, sitting on the bed, head down in his hands. You wanted nothing more right now than to just get out of the house. But there was still one question that needed to be answered. You sat down next to him and took one of his hand into yours. "Please look at me." You turned his face gently towards you.

You wanted to stay mad at him.

Scream at him.

Punch him for hurting you this way.

But looking at him, you just couldn't. "It'd be probably better for me not to ask but I need to know this, Jensen. How long were you having the affair for, before you told me?" You looked into his eyes and waited for the band-aid to be ripped. But nothing could've prepared you for this.

 "I'm really really sorry, Y/N. I realize that it doesn't have any worth to you anymore but still I hope you know that I am." He said turning his body towards you. You remained silent and waited for him to continue. "But I- it started just after New Years." You pulled away your hands. You knew you should've let it go. "So almost for a year you came home to me like nothing was wrong?" You asked shakily and let out a sharp breath. Your ears started ringing. He really is an amazing actor, you thought to yourself.

You didn't know whether to cry or be relieved that the truth was out. Now there was nothing holding you back from leaving. You stood up and so was up again the wall around you. The wall that took Jensen forever to break down in the first place. "Ahem, so, uh-" you had trouble finding the words. "I think I've heard what I needed to- you know..move on, I guess." A forced smile grew on your face that didn't reach your eyes. "You can send whatever the papers you need me to sign to my workplace." You took your things and walked out of the room.

Looking around in the living room, you realized how much you're actually going to miss this house. All the memories of the late night trips to the hardware stores during fixing up the house came back to you. You were definitely more of a distraction than help for Jensen at that time. But the arguments over the tone of the flooring and style of the kitchen cabinets resulted usually in hot make up sex in the shower. Which you felt was really your only purpose of picking those fights with him. These memories brought a sad smile onto your lips. Now you refused to call this home, because your home was Jensen. And you didn't have him anymore.

"Are you sure you're not staying here? I'm leaving in two days. You can have the house." He had followed you so quietly, you almost didn't notice him standing behind you.

"No, the house is not what I want." You laughed unhumorously and turned around to face him. Jensen pulled you into a tight hug and just held you close. And you let him do just that.

Everything still seemed as you were in a bad dream. All you wished right now was to wake up. But there was nothing to wake up from. As the realization dawned on you, you almost broke down again. Pushing your face into his chest, you desperately tried to hold yourself together. Leaving him is be the hardest thing you've had to do.

Focus, Y/N, you can cry when you're out of here, you tried to talk yourself down. Put on a brave face in front him, so he wouldn't see how broken you actually are.

"I'm sorry." He whispered and kissed the top of your head.

You took a deep breath and looked up at him. "Yeah, I'm sorry, too." After giving him a last hug, you pulled away from him. "I want to hate you right now, Jensen. So much." You laughed lightly through your words. "But I don't think I'll be able to, not before I stop loving you." He gave you a sympathetic look, and you saw that he was hurting too. You stroked his cheek gently. "And I will always love you." You stood up on your toes and pressed a kiss on his lips for the last time. With a heavy sigh you turned away to grab your purse, coat and car keys. "I want the best for you. Truly." You said standing on the door. With a one last look at him, you smiled and stepped out of the house.

Before going to Elaine's, you did a quick stop at a grocery store. Today you felt like not giving a damn, you will get drunk with your sister this afternoon. You picked up more wine and sweet and savory snacks, cake and some fruit. Definitely too much food for the two of you.

"Someone's having a party, huh?" Cashier asked you with a smile on her face.

"Oh, yeah, mhmm, big party tonight."

After packing up your groceries, you dialed El's number again.

"Hey, just got out of store. Be there in 10."

"Alrighty, should I find some glasses for us?" What a dumb question.

"Don't ask stupid questions and come outside to help me with things."

Little while later, two of you were sitting on the couch. "So. Talk to me, Y/N." She snuggled in closer to you. You swirled wine around in the glass and stared into nothing. "Jensen and I are divorcing." You didn't want to look at her and she waited silently for you to continue. "But hey- it's a well known fact that half of marriages end in divorce so-" You tried to lighten your mood but failed miserably at that. "I guess we were just on the wrong side of that equation."

She took the wine glass from you and put both on the table.

"Come here, sweetie." She pulled you into tight embrace as both of you laid on the couch. "I know that's yet another stupid question from me but how are you feeling? Honest answers only."

"Hurt. Disappointed. Sad. I just want to be angry with him, but I can't." You sat up. "He- he found someone new, you know? Well.. He didn't exactly say that but I guess so." Elaine huffed angrily. "He cheated on you?" You nodded silently and topped up your glasses. You could only imagine what was going through her head in that moment. Certainly she'd want to say "I told you so". You waited for any kind of reaction from her, so you sat there in a silence for a while, until she spoke again. "That lying piece of sh-" You interrupted your sisters swearing. "Stop. No, he's really not that." You said smiling sorrowfully.

"Why are you so calm about this? I'd be livid right now. Hell, I am! He betrayed you."

"If he feels like he's happier with someone other than me, then I won't stand in his way." You said quietly. "It hurts like hell, but I won't be some petty ass bitch to him because of that. I just don't have it in me." She laughed at you. "Yeah, you don't. I'd probably be keying his car right now."

You sighed, feeling the light buzz from the wine starting to take over you. "I thought getting drunk with you would make me feel better but what I really want right now, is to sleep. For a week at least. I just can't think of anything else right now."

She got up from the couch, reaching her hand out to you. "Come."

"What? Where?" Your brows furrowed in confusion, but nonetheless you got up.

"You want to sleep, so let's go to sleep." Elaine said so matter-of-factly.

"But didn't you have any plans today?" She pulled you into a tight hug. "Yeah, I did, but you are more important."

Read part 2 here!

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@jackles010378 @cevansbaby-dove @deanwinchestersgirl87 @alternativeprincess94

[jawritter]

Carry On

Chapter 29 (Final)

Summary: It was just a simple hunt, found on a pie festival. It was supposed to be easy. Something they’d all done one hundred and one times a million. No one could have told Y/N, Dean, and Sam that nothing from that point on would ever be the same again.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader x Sam Winchester

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Throws some fluffing feels in your face and then closes the door like a boss. 

Due to the graphic nature of this fic, and the fact that it will eventually contain Smut. This fic is an 18 + only fic! If you’re under 18 DO NOT read this fic!

A/N: This fic is beta’d by @kazsrm67​​​​ Thanks so much love! Please do not copy my work! Feedback is golden! I hope you all enjoy this ride with me!

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“Wearing a hole in the floor isn’t going to make the time go by any faster,” Y/N reminded Dean as she sat on the counter, nibbling on a saltine cracker, and watching her boyfriend literally pace the kitchen in front of her. 

“Sorry,” Dean grumbled as he forced himself to stop pacing, and after a brief moment of deliberation, decided to just take a seat at the kitchen table.

Not fifteen feet away, in the bathroom that adjoined the hallway, were two pregnancy tests sitting snugly under a box on top of the sink. The test took only three minutes to show the results, it had so far been exactly 1 minute and 34 seconds since she placed the boxes over the top of the test once she’d taken them, and honestly, it felt like it had been one year and 34  days instead. 

Especially to Dean. That much she could tell. He wasn’t exactly hiding it very well at the moment.

“Dean, don’t get your hopes up, okay? It could just be a stomach bug, and I don’t want you to get disappointed,” Y/N said as her gaze wandered back to the red reamed clock on the wall; checking the time for what felt like the hundredth time in about 40 seconds. 

It was true. All signs and symptoms pointed to pregnancy. They’d stopped all preventative measures that could deter conception, but that didn’t mean she’d gotten pregnant yet. She was prepared to have to try for quite a while to even get pregnant. She’d taken birth control for years, and only God knows how long it was going to take for her body to hormonally be ready to conceive. 

“Trust me sweetheart, my hopes aren’t up,” Dean assured her, reaching for her to come and sit down in his lap.

Carefully, she pushed down and off of her perch and made her way over to where he was sitting, slipping into his hold with ease. 

“It will happen when and if it’s meant to. This is kinda one of those things we have little control over. We can do things to help it along, and there are multiple avenues to try, but after everything in life we’ve been through, I’ve learned nothing ever comes easy, or right away; so I have no expectations, other than making sure you’re okay,” Dean continued, placing a kiss to the top of her forehead. 

She melted into the warmth that seemed to always radiate from Dean’s body. Home, no matter where they were in life, no matter where life would take them, this was it, Dean was home. Not a roof and four walls. 

“I’m feeling a lot better,” Y/N admitted. “I’m sorry I scared you earlier.”

Dean’s grip tightened around her waist, attempting to hold her as close to him as humanly possible. “It’s okay, it’s my job to take care of you when you’re not feeling well. I just wish you would have told me you weren’t feeling great sooner; I would have never gone into work this morning. I didn’t know this was something that had been kinda going on for days. You’ve got to communicate with me sweetheart.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Y/N said, burying her face in the crook of his neck. 

Here she sat with the tables turned, what felt like not so long ago, she was the one telling him that HE needed to communicate with HER when he wasn’t feeling well. God they had come so far, especially Dean. 

Just since his accident, he’d proven not only friends, family, but doctors and even himself wrong. He’d far surpassed any expectation any of them set for him. He’d done the one thing Chuck and the universe had tried so fucking hard to not allow him to do -  he’d created a life for himself. He’d created a home. He was doing what it was he always wanted to do. He was happy. An ending he never thought he’d deserve, and one Y/N didn’t really feel that she deserved either, but here they were. He should be dead. By all rights, accounts and reasons, Dean should have never lived to see the outside of that barn, but here he was, alive and well. Scared, battered, broken in some ways, but still here. Still alive. 

“Did you ever think we’d be here?” Y/N questioned, and Dean swallowed thickly above her. 

“No. No I didn’t. I thought I’d be dead by now. I never saw life the way it was not. It was just a distant dream. It still feels like a dream some days,” Dean admitted, and he wasn’t wrong, it did feel like a dream some days. If it weren’t for the hard days, the days that tested the both of them on every emotional and physical level, she’d think they were both dead and in heaven, just playing this thing out, but nope, this was real, this was their life. As fake as it felt, it was real. 

“Me either,” Y/N voiced after a moment. “I had given up on anything even remotely similar to this. Never even tried to achieve it.”

“Do you regret it?” Dean asked, his deep rumble barely above a whisper in the silence that hung heavy in the kitchen. “Do you regret giving up your life as a hunter for this? For me?”

Y/N sat up straight as he would allow her with his firm grip on her waist, and placed a gentle kiss to his lips before leaning her forehead against his own. “Not even for a second. I’d do it all over again, no matter how many times I had to live through everything we both went through, I’d do it with a smile on my face as long as it ended right here, right now.”

“Me too,” Dean agreed. “I’d walk right into that barn every time, go through every ounce of pain and suffering, just as long as we ended up right here in this kitchen at the end.”

The sound of her alarm going off seemed much louder than it was -coming from her phone in the  pocket of her sweat pants;  she’d have jumped off of Dean’s lap had he not been holding onto her. But as the shock of the sudden loud sound waned, the heaviness set in with a rock of nerves in the pit of her stomach. Here it was. The moment of truth. There were only two answers waiting on the other side of that door, but one would change their lives forever. Suddenly, she found herself too scared and nervous to move. 

“Do you want me to go and look for you?” Dean questioned when she didn’t move, just sat up ramrod straight in his lap. 

“No, no I wanna do it, just… stay here, okay?” 

Dean nodded as she stood on shaking legs, and even though she didn’t turn around to see him, she could feel his pale green gaze on every step she made towards the door. 

A million and a half memories flooded her mind as she opened the bathroom door and stepped inside, looking at the boxes that were still set on top of the little tests. Memories of pain, so much pain. Pain of Dean never even noticing her. The undesirable pain she felt as she stood there and watched him stuck to that goddamn poll, his life quickly bleeding away. Pain as she watched him struggle to recover. The fear that he’d never be the same again, if he ever woke up at all. The pain of learning how to let him go, so that he could recover on his own, and move from caretaker to partner. The moment they moved in this house. Every step that they made that led them to this moment. She could still see it. It was all still so clear. A horrible ending that they had taken, and rewritten for the good. What could have been a disaster, now could possibly be the start of a whole new life. One that Dean had always wanted. One that she had always wanted. 

She felt as if she was having an out of body experience as she lifted the box off of the text, eyes closed; breath held, almost too afraid to open her eyes and see that they were negative, which she had convinced herself that they were. 

“It’s okay,” she whispered to herself. “It’s all gonna be okay. No matter what the results are, we’re gonna be okay.”

With every ounce of courage she had left in her body, Y/N forced her eyes open, and her focus to shift down to the counter, where the sticks were. 

At first, she thought she was hallucinating, surely she had to be, because one test stood proud and pink with two lines on the result screen, and the other the word YES + . She was pregnant. 

Subconsciously, her hand fluttered down to her stomach as shock quickly made way for disbelief, and disbelief to something that she could only describe as pure joy. She had a little life, a little piece of Dean Winchester, the man she loved more than her own life, growing right now inside of her. A piece of him that no matter what, she’d get to keep forever. 

Grabbing both tests, she quickly made her way out of the door, and back towards the kitchen, where Dean was still waiting at the table, his head buried in his hands.  

Most people would have probably wanted to ‘surprise’ him with something cute. Some way of telling him that he was gonna be a Dad, but not her. They’d waited long enough for this moment, and she wasn’t going to make him wait a minute longer for the sake of theatrics. 

Dean’s head lifted as he heard her footsteps approaching, and he was on his feet reaching for the test before she could even make it to him. His hand shook as he took the two test from her hand, and looked down at them. The same emotional turmoil running over his face as had hers only a moment ago, which sent a flood of emotions streaming down her face, or maybe it was the hormones?

“You’re pregnant?” he stated after a while-  as if he needed to say it to make it real. 

“You’re going to be a father, Dean Winchester,” she said, her voice choking with emotions, as he wrapped his arms around her squeezing her tightly as his own emotional dam broke, and years of pain, rejection, doubt, and fear of never having a life of his flooded down his own face, all while he clung on to her like she was his lifeline. She was honestly, and he was hers. 

Life as they knew it would never be the same. Things had forever changed. Dean had a family of his own now. A real family. This was the first day of their forever. 

Y/N’s eye’s lifted to the doorway of the kitchen, where had Dean not been holding her up, her feet would have given out from under her as the clear ghost of John Winchester and Mary Winchester stood, arm and arm watching the pair. Jack and Cas stood not far behind in the hallway, along with Bobby, beaming proudly at him. 

“All of Heaven had to come and see this moment,” Jack said as both stood there in shock at the faces of family and friends long gone. 

“We’re all so proud of you son, and when that boy of yours is born, he’s going to do great things,” John said, pride beaming from his face. “You did good.”

Just as suddenly as they had appeared, in a blink of an eye, they were all gone. Leaving nothing but an empty room, and the promise of a son that Dean had always wanted. She couldn’t think of a better, more fitting ending for Dean Winchester. The righteous man that might have saved the world on multiple occasions, and he saved her. He’d saved her in way’s she’d never stop thanking him for. He was her constant. Her comfort, and now, the father of her child, and the man he could finally call himself proud of. Scared. Battered. Bruised. Broken. But proud of the man, father, and one day husband he’d become. 

The End.

Forever:

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[alyssaswrld999]

Why Are You Doing This To Yourself?/ Dean Winchester x Reader

Warning: Vaping, Deppression, Self-harm, Kissing, Comfort, Deep Conversations

Story Prompt: Y/n has been hunting with Dean and Sam for a long time. She has had trouble dealing with some stuff that's on her mind and everything going on around her lately. Y/n finally finds her best solution and she has considered "Vaping calms her". Dean finds her and he has so many thoughts on this.

Y/n's POV:

Lately hunting has been a struggle for me. Everything has just been going wrong and I feel like I'm messing things up. Im having a hard time believing I'm gonna be ok. That it's gonna just get better and I can move on.

Is it though?

Am I going to get through this?

Am I doing good by putting others first?

Life as a hunter is never easy at all. I always hear Sam and Dean say "This life isn't easy". It's true I mean this life puts the ones you love in danger.

This life makes you end up dead.

This life makes you a different person.

It changes your whole aspect of reality...

Ever since Charlie died I've had a hard time. So has Dean and Sam. Charlie was my bestfriend and she would always call and check up on me and the boys.

But now since she's gone I have no one else to be a nerd with. Me and her loved the same music, movies, etc. She was like a sister to me and I miss her.

I just wish she was here...

I get up from my bed in the bunker and I walk over to my desk. I open the left drawer and I pull out my vape. I never told Sam and Dean that I started because I didn't want them to worry.

The only time that I use it is when I'm overwhelmed and just need to calm down. It helps me and it let's me take a break from the stress.

I walk back over to my bed and I put some music on and start to take a hit. It was relaxing to know I can have a moment to myself.

Suddenly someone knocked on my door. "Y/n you awake?" Dean said.

"Yeah give me a sec" I said quickly. I take my vape and put it in my bra really quick. As I fix my shirt Dean opens the door. "Hey" I said smiling at Dean.

Dean looked around my room and then looked at me. "Hey... does it smell fruity in here?" Dean asked. I look around and played dumb. "Uh no not really I mean the only fruity thing in my room is my perfume" I said.

"Oh okay uhm well I came In here to ask you if you wanted to spend the night with me? In my room and uh we could watch a movie?" Dean said smiling.

Dean and me would do this every Friday night and I mean it is one of the best things me and him do. This would make me feel better I mean it's Dean. I love him a lot and well even if we don't stay in the same room that doesn't mean he isn't the best boyfriend ever.

I just don't want him to know I vape because I don't want him to worry. He already has enough stress on his plate and it ain't fair to him or Sam.

"Of course I'll spend the night with you De" I said. Dean smiled and got excited at my answer. "Alright uhm I'm gonna make the popcorn and set up the movie. You go to my room and make yourself comfy ok" Dean said.

I nodded my head and laughed at him. "Alrighty De I can do that" I said. Dean walked up to me and kissed my head. "I love you Y/n" Dean said.

I love how Dean gets like this because it's so sweet. He acts all tough but the truth is he's just my big teddy bear. "I love you to Dean" I said kissing his cheek.

Dean then walked away and went to make the popcorn. I sighed and got up to put my vape away in my desk. "Can't let him see me hurting" I thought.

I change my clothes and put on my black night pants and Dean's grey tshirt. I mean you can't have a good movie night without being In comfy baggy pj's.

➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️

I get into Dean's room and make myself comfortable on Dean's bed. I brought my pillow and my favorite blanket. I set it up on Dean's bed and I finally lay down and wait for Dean.

Pretty soon a couple of minutes later Dean comes back with a bag of candy, popcorn, and two beers. I chuckled at him seeing him struggle. I get up and walk over to Dean smiling at him.

"Let me help you De" I said grabbing the beers and popcorn. I walk over to the bed and sit down and set the snacks up. Dean puts down the bag of candy beside me and then walks over to close his bedroom door.

"I'm gonna change real quick so is it cool if you set up the movie?" Dean asked. I nodded my head and grabbed his laptop and pulled up the movie. He wanted to watch "Scream" and "Texas Chainsaw Massacre".

"Thought you only wanted to watch one movie?" I said. Dean turned around and as I looked up I was really liking his pj's. He had only grey sweatpants and a white tshirt.

"Yeah uh I was just thinking if you wanted to watch another movie we could have two? I mean it's just fun to do these movie nights and well just wish you could stay in this room with me all the time" Dean said.

I nodded my head and tapped the bed. "I mean we could make that happen" I said. Dean smiled and sat down on the bed beside me getting comfortable.

➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️

4 hours later me and Dean are still laying in bed watching movies. As I was sitting there I kept having the urge to go and have a quick "break". I look over at Dean and seen that he was asleep.

I get up quietly and cover him up with the blankets. "I'll be back" I whispered as I lean down to kiss him. My lips make contact with his forehead and I sighed as I pulled away.

I make my way out of Dean's bedroom and make my way down the hall to mine. My breath kept getting quicker and quicker as I made it closer to my room.

I didn't even realized that I arrived at my bedroom door and opened it. My feet were moving for me and my mind was fuzzy. The next thing I know I have my vape in my hands and I'm taking hits from it.

I didn't even hear the footsteps coming down the hallway to my room or the faint voice calling my name. I was just focused on inhaling the vape.

"Y/n..." Dean said. I finally came back to reality after calming down and realized I've been caught. I turn and look at Dean and he was pissed. "Oh shit..." I mumbled.

The expression on Dean's face explained everything that he was feeling. He seemed Angry, confused, sad, upset. "Why the hell are you vaping?" Dean said walking towards me. I froze in place not being able to move away. I was angry at myself that I could be so stupid to give up quickly to hit that stupid damn vape.

"Dean let me explain" I mumbled. Dean kept walking toward me and grabbed my vape from my hands. "I can't believe that your doing this to yourself" Dean said with venom at the end of his sentence.

"Dean just let me explain" I said. Dean looked at me with anger in his eyes. "Y/n why? Why do this" Dean said with less venom. I started to tear up and Dean noticed. "No... no you don't get to do that not after this" Dean said holding up the vape. I look down at the floor finding it more interesting to look at then Dean at the moment.

All I hear is Dean's footsteps leave the room and I start tearing up again. I look up and seen he was gone and I felt my heart breaking as I fall to my knees on the floor. I wanted to shout and scream but I couldn't. All I could do is sit there and cry on silence with no one to hear me.

Dean was hurt by me doing this to myself and he has every right to be. But at the same time he doesn't understand how I feel about anything. How I have to just live with this pain and not show it. And because the fact I never show it I always feel alone.

But I need Dean to be here for me but he won't. I understand why he won't be but still. He stormed out instead of talking it out with me. Do I need to be alone? Do I need to suffer alone? Who knows...

➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️➖️

The next day was more stressful and awkward as last night. It was different and I felt more alone than I was before. I woke up in my room and I felt a tug in my heart. I didn't want to get out of bed but I knew I needed to face the day.

I open the door slowly and I take a quick breath. "Hopefully no one's awake yet" I thought. I walk out of my room and I make my way to the kitchen to see Sam on his laptop. I quickly walk over to the coffee maker and make myself a glass of coffee. "Good morning" Sam said.

I sighed and turn to look at Sam. "Mornin" I said. Sam looked at me and raised his eyebrows in question. "Are you okay?" Sam asked. I sighed and took a sip of my coffee but I choked at the bitter taste. "Yeah... uhm I really don't know how to answer that" I said.

"Wanna talk about it?" Sam said closing his laptop. I looked at Sam and was about to respond until Dean entered the kitchen. I look away and put my coffee mug down. "I'll see you later Sam" I said leaving the room.

As I walked away I heard Dean scoff and I then decided to hide beside the door to the kitchen. "What was that about" Sam said. I heard Dean sigh and then he began to speak.

"Y/n was vaping"

"Wait what? Why would she do that"

"I don't know Sam"

"Did you talk to her about it"

"No, I stormed off last night and haven't talked to her since then"

"Dean you need to talk to her"

"Why Sam? There is nothing to say, I just can't believe she would do something like that to herself"

"Well Dean talking is better than leaving her to fight with whatever is going on alone"

I finally had enough listening and I made my way back to my room. I just didn't want to be around Dean because he clearly has nothing to say to me.

As I enter my room a whole new wave of depression hit me. I couldn't take this pain anymore and I just didn't want to see Dean right now. I shut my door and I rush to my bed seeming as that was the only thing to do.

"Why Charlie" I thought. As I sink down more into my bed the thoughts kept spilling like it was a waterfall in my head. What after felt like moments I heard a faint knock at my door. I didn't respond. The only thing I could do was listen.

After a moment the knock came back but it was more louder. Then finally the door knob turned and the door was opening. "Y/n?" Someone said. I didn't move my head to see who it was but the type of voice and the way the person acted from what I could hear was Sam.

"Y/n please can we talk" Sam said. I didn't move and Sam sighed. I thought he was going to leave but I was wrong. "Y/n Dean told me what happened and I was wondering if you could talk to me" Sam said gently. The next thing I know Sam is sitting on my bed and rubbing my shoulder softly.

I finally gave in and I latched myself to Sam and I was crying. I wanted to tell him what was going on but all I could do was cry. I couldn't stop crying because of all of my thoughts playing over and over in my head. I felt like I was crazy and I didn't know what to do.

"Hey, hey Its gonna be okay... it's okay Y/n" Sam said rubbing my head softly. I sobbed and I looked up at Sam. "I- I'm sorry" I said softly. Sam rubbed my head and comforted me. "It's okay you don't need to apologize. Just tell me what's going on and we will find a way to make everything okay" Sam answered.

I nodded my head and I started sobbing again. Sam comforted me until I calmed down to where I was ready to talk. I pulled away from Sam and I straightened myself to sit up.

"Its- there's just been so- so much going on" I mumbled. Sam looked at me concerned and rubbed my back softly. "After Charlie- after everything its just- I'm losing it Sammy" I said looking up at Sam. Sam gave me his usual empathetic look and nodded his head.

"Y/n I understand how you feel... and your not gonna lose it okay"

"But how do you know im not"

"Because you have me, Dean and Castiel"

"Are you sure about Dean? Because clearly from last night it explains he is mad at me"

"Dean's not mad at you Y/n he's worried and wants you to be okay"

"I understand he is worried I just don't want him to be... I just really need him right now and I don't want him being distant"

"Just give him a bit to calm down Y/n... he loves you"

"Okay... thank you Sammy"

"You're welcome Y/n"

Sam pulled me into a hug and I wrapped my arms around him. "It's gonna be okay" Sam whispered. I nodded my head and I pulled away. I laughed a little wiping my tears away and I smiled at Sam.

"Yeah... yeah it's gonna be okay" I replied. Sam smiled and got up from the bed. "I'll let Dean know your okay" Sam said leaving the room. I nodded my head and smiled while wiping my tears.

After a couple of moments Dean appeared in the doorway. "Hey" I whispered. Dean walked towards me and I stayed still. "Look I'm sorry-" I said but was interrupted by Dean kissing me. I pulled away a few minutes later and Dean held my cheek.

"Y/n you don't have to apologize okay" Dean answered. I started to tear up again and I gently smiled. "I love you... and I'm sorry for walking off last night" Dean whispered. I kissed his cheek and I nodded my head. "I understand why you did it though... and you don't need to apologize either" I said.

Dean sat down and pulled me in for a hug. I sighed and wrapped my arms around Dean as he kissed my head.

"We're gonna get through this"

"Yeah... we are... one day at a time"

"I love you Y/n"

"I love you too Dean"

[ronearoundblindly]

Sweet requests 💙 I would love some sweet Jake Jensen or Steve Rogers. Reader and then have been fighting, and reader is ready to give up, but their man won’t let them. Please and thank you!

Rerouted, a Jake Jensen x Reader tale

Warnings for some language and innuendo, angst, kinda hurt/comfort due to miscommunication and insecurities. WC 2.7k

Summary: Vacation with your boyfriend is a disaster.

You’ve had smoother starts to vacations, that’s the truth.

Delayed flights. Turbulence. Arriving before check-in with a raging headache.

Jake did his (awkward) damnedest to sweet-talk the desk clerk to let you both into the room early, but his attempts failed and you put those thick headphones right back on and crashed on a lobby chair. You feel his bouncing leg shake the cushions gently as he sits guard over your luggage.

Though your head feels a little better, you need to shower before any real relaxation can happen. You shuffle your feet on the industrial hallway carpet and stare at the back of Jake’s sneakers.

The heavy steel door smacks you hard in the arm when he lets go just at the moment you turn to adjust the rollers of your bag.

“Dammit,” you hiss.

“Shit, babe, are you okay?”

It takes every fiber of your being to simply respond, “yeah.”

You immediately announce your intention to hog the bathroom for a nice long cleanse of your body, mind, and soul.

Jake asks for five minutes first.

Sure. Poop all you want, bud. It’s not like your very first international getaway as a couple has gone swimmingly so far…

You try some stretches to relieve a kink in that weird place below your neck and between your shoulders but not quite over your spine. Worst spot ever. Maybe the shower can heal all travel wounds?

Your boyfriend gives you the all-clear, but you didn’t even hear him close the door or flush. Whatever. He knows it’s your territory now. A forfeit is a forfeit.

A long while later you emerge a modicum improved with a clear head and the memory of not charging your toothbrush overnight. You had to sacrifice a cute beach coverup to make space for the charger. No matter because you’ve got time now.

You change into one of your swimsuits and a light maxi dress, throwing out a comment that some drinks poolside might be a good jumpstart to the trip, but Jake doesn’t move. He’s playing on his laptop.

That joke? The one where ‘you can take the man out of the tech but you can’t take the tech out of the man?’ Yeah, that doesn’t apply to Jake Jensen. It’ll be a cold day in hell when he leaves it all behind, but you check things on your phone all the time, too. Fair is fair.

You unplug what you think is one of the hotel’s complimentary devices—sad blow dryer or shitty coffee maker or something—and set your brush up. 

A quick glance in the mirror gives you a boost. Your skin looks pretty great, all things considered, and you have that new lip gloss to—

“WHAT THE FUCK!”

You jump in alarm, barely able to get to the bathroom door before Jake is right there.

“JESUS FUCK, WHAT DID YOU—fuck.” He rips your charger out of the wall to replace the other black plug. Jake doesn’t even look at you before huffing out “don’t TOUCH that” and racing back to his open laptop on the bed.

“Fuckfuckfuck, come on,” he mutters.

“Are you working?” you screech once it hits you that the device is some sort of signal amplifier. You aren’t tech illiterate, but you aren’t Jake’s level. He knows the golden rule is no work on your together time though.

“It’s important. I have to…there—“ he scrambles to type something out, zoned entirely into his computer.

His computer. Open to work. On your vacation. Which he brought extra equipment for.

Then you see another router on the small desk, and another on his bedside table.

And you’ve suddenly had enough.

“One day, Jay. One day,” you burst. “You couldn’t even give me one damn day of our own vacation.”

That momentary zen you felt flushes right down the toilet with your composure. Tears immediately sting the corners of your eyes. It’s all you can do to snatch sunglasses and a room key from the desk corner and walk out.

“Babe, wait, I just need a—“

The door shuts, fast as ever, loud as fucking thunderclap, and you’re barefoot in the hallway.

You do not fucking care and keep walking toward the pool.

One overly sweet and dangerously delicious cocktail later, Jake still hasn’t come to find you. You sit at the shaded bar with your hand over your eyes to take in the view since these are Jake’s prescription sunglasses you’ve taken. Either option is not great for the last dregs of a headache.

Cocktail number two it is…

Mercifully, clouds roll in. Not the kind that deters guests from the pool or beach. Nothing threatening the splendor of this perfect destination.

You walk to the edge of the pool deck and sip, waiting, alone.

Several times your brain tricks you into turning back, thinking Jake’s come out, thinking he’s groveling behind you. Do you even hope for that? Do you want him to sweep you off your feet? Do you believe him if he comes up with promises upon promises to put the work away, to instead put all that effort into you two?

You have no idea, so you just keep sipping until slurping on air and plunking the empty onto a free lounge chair.

Sputtering and coughing ring to your right.

“Dear god—” Jake wipes his mouth, holding a full coconut husk of your drink of choice “—is that what diabetes tastes like?”

He tries to hand you his peace offering, the peace offering he’s now taken some of and insulted. You turn back to the ocean, and Jake continues to squint harshly, nose scrunched so hard that you can see his teeth.

“Got something in my pocket—“ he smirks “—or maybe I’m just happy to see ya.”

Silence. He can’t hold the gag.

“It’s Tylenol. I grabbed Tylenol for your head.”

When you still don’t cave, he starts twitching, fumbling around with his watch, and clearing his throat.

“I wasn’t—there wasn’t supposed to be a—“ he swivels to look around him and steps closer “—a gig today, but then…boss, um, he—“ Jake waves his free hand out to help illustrate his lack of euphemisms for classified ops “—bungled a…a staging and—fuck it. I give up. He’s an idiot, and I’m a dick, and I’m sorry. I just didn’t want them to get hurt if I could help.”

“You always have to help them, Jay. It never stops. I don’t see this working if you can’t step away for one damn day. I’m not this girl,” you fuss, “and I don’t want to date that guy.”

The wind picks up a little, swishing your hair around the makeshift headband of Jake’s sunglasses. You take pity and return them. He doesn’t put them on immediately though, his look guilty, replying in a soft and broken tone.

“Please don’t say stuff like that. I’m trying.”

“I am, too.” You square your shoulders to his and rip the drink out of his hand. “But isn’t trying and trying and not succeeding just failing in slow motion? Because that’s what it feels like to me every time you choose a machine over me.”

“That’s not fair.”

Your glare stops that line cold.

“What I mean is—ok, this is too…” Jake puts on the dark sunglasses. “Imagine my very sincere, partially-blind eyes when I say this is the best I’ve got. You know I don’t know how to be—“

“I swear to god if you say ‘lovah,’ Jake Jensen.” Little shit is always making a joke out of everything.

Since that is exactly what he was about to say, Jake cocks his hip and scratches his goatee. “Fine. Boyfriend. I’ve never gotten this far with someone, but I want it. I want this. I want it with you. I can’t be better until—ya know—try shit to do the best I can and maybe, actually, get better.”

You bitterly sip your sweet treat, saying flatly, “Charming.”

“I only had my job before—“ he pets his big hands down your bare arms “—you know that. It’s hard to switch off. And I am sorry. I did not intend to jump onto a…call the second we got here.“

Poking at the ice in your drink isn’t distracting enough. You’re mad and hurt. This vacation was supposed to cut you off from all that, to give you and Jake time to hang together uninterrupted, and most importantly, to feel like you were enough excitement and company for the guy inoculated from excitement by years of intense shit.

You do not feel like enough now.

“You brought an entire suitcase worth of equipment,” you say flatly.

“Force of habit,” he counters, trying to move his hands to your waist, but you step back. “It’s like a safety net. You pack an extra outfit per day and I come with…an extra router, couple of splitters, a sat phone, and…whatnot. Same sorta difference.”

“I don’t want to be on vacation with a sat phone and a split couple of wires.”

“Right. I understand that. I know it’s not…ideal.”

“And the next four days are going to be?”

“Ooh,” Jake hisses and makes a face, “if Pooch can survive that long without me, it’ll be a miracle.” He scratches the back of his head while you stare him down again.  “What?”

You clutch your drink, bunch up a bit of your skirt, and storm off down the boardwalk to the ocean.

It takes Jake a hot second.

“No. Hey! Come on,” he pleads quietly, hoping not to attract the attention of other guests while he chases you to the beach.

When Jake first approached you at a bar with the worst pickup line you’d ever heard, it was cute, endearing in an ‘I can fix him’ kind of way, but maybe you aren’t strong enough. You can’t just be training wheels while he gets his shit together. You’re not going to be some fucktoy in the corner and wait for him to get sick of you—or yell at you for doing something wrong—because then he’ll only associate you with being some sort of practice, a relationship that was doomed since he’ll want to start fresh with someone else who never fights with him, someone who understands this tech shit, someone who never gets angry, someone who isn’t insecure about—“

“I’m sorry I yelled,” Jake says, finally grabbing your arm to spin you around. “You are not practice.”

Did you…were you muttering all that…out loud? How strong are these drinks??

He jumps in front of your path when you attempt to flee, embarrassment warming you more than the shaded sun.

“No. No, I am not great at this. I’m doing everything wrong, and, babe, I know that.” Jake wildly talks with his hands and walks backward while you slog through loose sand. “I also know that you have put up with every stupid ass stunt I’ve pulled trying to impress you or be the guy I think you deserve. Which I am also convinced is some dude way better than me anyhow. Please don’t. Please don’t say you’re done with me. I can’t ruin this. You’re the best girl I’ve ever b—“

Jake cuts himself off with a wince.

Your head snaps up.

“Oh my god,” you shriek. “Were you just gonna say banged? I’m the best bang, REALLY?”

“Bagged,” he corrects with a sad flick of the wrist, “I was saying bagged, but then I knew it was wrong so I stopped and I’ve made it worse, haven’t I? Seriously if you just give me five minutes, I can look up the most spectacular apology. I can deep fake that cat from the Tiktoks you like reciting Shakespeare if you want just please—”

“Damn it, Jay. Get it through your head. I don’t want your rehearsed version of being a boyfriend, and for one weekend, I didn’t want to share you with your whole team.”

His eyebrows shoot up over the dark lenses. “Kinky,” he whistles. “Wait, no, I’m sor—”

“Go fuck yourself.” You walk away down the resort shore.

He infuriatingly does not follow this time, and instead, you hear his pathetic call “You look nice by the way. I like that dress.”

When that’s all you’ve gotten by a few seconds later, you glance to see Jake, too, walking away. That’s not right; he’s supposed to grovel. He’s supposed to keep following to convince you he loves you.

Sucking your drink down, you dump the ice, umbrella, and straw onto the sand and lob the coconut at Jake’s retreating form. You don’t have great aim.

It bounces straight off his ass and makes him yelp in surprise.

“What the—did you just…”

You puff out your chest, unashamed, as Jake’s mouth gapes open. He slowly stretches to his full height and adjusts his glasses.

“Why you little...“

“Yeah? What are you gonna—eek!”

 He’s after you.

You squeal and bolt down to the water in a zigzag to evade him.

“I’ll get you, minx,” Jake roars into the wind.

You can’t help but laugh as you barely dodge him. It’s easy for a special ops guy to catch a civilian in a long dress trying to run on wet sand, but Jake grins the whole time and lets you have a few extra moves before his arms wrap your waist.

He lifts you off the ground.

“Think that’s funny, huh?” he growls playfully in your ear, holding you tight as you thrash a little. 

It’s a fit of giggles for him to wrestle you into a hug, facing him. Jake’s still smiling, breathing heavier but not from any great exertion. He rests his forehead against yours, the wire rim of his sunglasses brushing your eyebrows.

“How’s your head feeling, baby?” His hands stroke your sides tenderly, and you sigh, a few more toxic fumes of anger releasing into the breeze.

“Um,” you assess, squinting, “better than my feet.”

You’ve dug the wrung of a barstool into your arch, stood on hot cement, traipsed across a sharp-shelled beach, and run over the solid, water-logged shore, all barefoot.

“I can help with that.” Jake kisses the tip of your nose and sweeps you up bridal style.

After an involuntary scream of alarm, you clutch at his neck. “That’s not necessary.”

“I know, but that’s the point. How else are you supposed to know how unnecessarily crazy I am about you?” For a complete nerd, your boyfriend is quite built. “And I’m gonna guess you are ‘throwing coconuts’ crazy about me, maybe?”

“God help me, I am.”

“Yeah? Glad you dig losers, babe, because I’m the biggest one you can find.” 

As he makes his way up the wooden steps back to the pool, you grip his flexed bicep. “Yeah, you are…”

He puts you down by the tap to rinse your feet, spraying first yours, then his.

“See,” he whispers, standing and moving you both out of the way for a large family to use the water, “I like ‘em frisky, too, so we’re a perfect match.” He keeps his voice very low. “I can think of at least one thing to do to keep you off those poor feet for a few hours.”

You bite your lip, and even though you can’t see his eyes through the mirror-finish, you know he’s affected by that move. “What’s that?”

He gets bashful and ducks his face off to the side--he’s not very smooth with dirty talk. He knows you love to tease him though. He also…loves being teased.

You take his hand in yours, giving it a squeeze, your own small ‘I’m sorry.’

Jake pushes up his sunglasses and beams with a snort of approval. “Well, it starts with ordering room service and then unplugging everything…”

A/N: Thank you for waiting since mid-December for this one, but I'm finally pleased with how it turned out. Sadly, I thought of the fight scenario way back when, and just kept blanking on a way to dig them back out of it. I really, really did not want a bunch of promises and excuses and it was important to me that it not be a one-sided issue. Relationships are, in fact, a two-way street after all!!!

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @peyton-warren and I don't really know anyone else for a Jake tag, but yeah, let me know...

[spnexploration]

Accidents Happen

Characters: Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, reader.

Synopsis: While guest acting on Supernatural, things go awry filming a fight scene with Jensen. Platonic but definitely some hurt/comfort!

Warnings: accidental punch to the face

A/N: Had this idea while watching the gag reels. Normally, I don't like Jensen and Jared fics because they're real people and I don't want to put words or behaviours on them, but this one is short and sweet and I hope they wouldn't feel upset about (not that they would ever read it!). So please recognise that this is an imaginary situation with fictional characters, who happen to be fictional versions of the actors in Supernatural 😆

Punch right. Dodge left. Duck. Attempted block left, react as if hit. Grab Jensen's arm and buckle knees.

I chanted the fight choreography in my head while performing it, trying to ensure I didn't screw it up while the cameras were rolling. My character had to be able to partly hold her own against the mighty Dean Winchester, before finally being overpowered.

Attempt roll away. Jensen pins my arms, squirm. React to fake punch on the right, then-

Fuck. Punch was on the left. I hissed and my eyes stung as Jensen's fist connected with my nose, the outcome of me dodging the wrong way and moving into his punch rather than away. His eyes went wide momentarily and my face ached.

I made the split-second decision to keep going, pulling my wrist out of his grasp and kicking my legs at him. He dodged and reacted like we'd practised, so we kept going.

I got out of his grasp, scooting back along the ground and searching ineffectively for a weapon with my hands. My nose was throbbing and my face felt hotter than normal.

Jensen stood up, angry Dean face on. He advanced towards me threateningly, grabbing his angel blade off the table where it'd fallen earlier.

"Ok! Ok!" I said my line, hands up in front of me. "I'll take you to him."

We held our positions another moment or two. "CUT!" came the call.

Jensen instantly dropped the knife prop and came over to me, crouching down to my level. "Shit, sorry Y/n! Let's get you to first aid."

"I'm fine, I'm fine," I tried to reassure him, embarrassed.

"Your nose is bleeding, you took a proper punch to the face."

"Oh."

He took my hand with one hand and his other hand went around my back to my shoulder. He helped me to my feet.

"It's not that bad," I said weakly, disliking that I was guest actor and already causing a fuss.

Jensen gave me a look that brokered no arguments and led me to first aid, his arm still around my shoulders.

---

"What happened to you?" Alice, the first aid officer, exclaimed.

"I got the choreo wrong," I half-mumbled.

"Jensen! Did you do this to this poor girl?" Alice berated him good-naturedly as she ushered me to sit.

"Unfortunately yes," he responded, at the same time as I gushed, "No, no, it was my fault."

Jensen hovered while they fetched me ice and cleaned up the blood. His brow was creased and he looked guilty, watching the first aid ministrations. My face flushed, embarrassed.

"I'm fine, really," I mumbled to him, not making eye contact.

Eventually, someone came along to fetch Jensen for more shooting. It sounded like they'd rearranged the schedule and would film his close-ups while they waited for me.

"The make-up department are going to kill me," I joked to Alice.

"Oh, I dunno," she replied, "you just made their job easier. So long as you only need to film post-punch scenes!"

Alice eventually let me take the ice off and she inspected my face. "I don't think anything's broken, but you'll probably have a hell of a bruise and maybe even a black eye or two."

"Great," I deadpanned.

Jared appeared while I was standing up and thanking Alice.

"I heard Jensen did a real number on you," he said from behind me.

I turned around, looking up at him as he was significantly taller than me. He whistled low when he saw my face.

"It was my fault," I said, embarrassed. "Went the wrong way."

He shrugged, "These things happen. Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Great. Now, do you want help plotting your revenge?" he said with a cheeky grin. "I have many great prank ideas."

[bittersweetarts]

How to Disappear - Chapter 2

Soldier Boy (The Boys) x OC

Word count: 3933 words

Summary: Eden Reid can't help her curiosity, and Soldier Boy can't help but take advantage of that curiosity.

WARNINGS: Cursing, substance abuse, minor violence

Chapter 1 - Chapter 3 - AO3 Page

Chapter 2: Sweet

While Eden scoured for her co-worker, Matt’s phone number, and frantically begged for his plug’s contact info, Soldier Boy made himself home in Eden’s cabin. And the first item in his agenda whilst doing so, was to steal beer from Eden’s fridge… multiple bottles, without asking.

“This Bud Light shit’s not too bad.”

Soldier Boy remarked as roamed around Eden’s living space, while she stood not paying attention him, hunched over her kitchen counter, texting Jenna, the woman who was generous enough to be supplying her (or rather him) some blow. Unfortunate for Soldier Boy though, Jenna would not drive up to Norvin Green Forest just for her.

Setting her phone down on the counter, Eden took a breath and turned to face Soldier Boy, who was already watching her, and the two stared at each other. Soldier was still dressed in his ruined costume, and Eden momentarily wondered whether he was comfortable. Who the fuck cares, Eden thought, and snapped herself back to reality, pressing her lips together before speaking up.

“I found someone who selling, but she’s unavailable tonight. I’ll drive by to pick it up tomorrow”

At that, Eden saw Soldier Boy’s jaw clench before he feigned a smile, not saying anything.

The room was deathly-silent, and Eden felt that it was likely she was going to be killed if she did not think quick. Turning around and opening one of her cupboards, she pulled an unopened bottle of whiskey she had bought a very long time ago and mustered up as much charm in her tone as she could.

“I’ve got whiskey, and I can make something to eat. You must be hungry.”

Eden could feel the fakeness in her demeanor, and cursed herself for being such a terrible actor, but it seemed to work, as Soldier Boy walked up to her and took the whiskey bottle from her hand before responding.

“That would be nice, doll.”

Eden was now pressed against the counter, and could feel Soldier Boy’s acidic breath on her face as he spoke. He did not step back or create any distance as he opened the bottle one-handedly and took a swig. Pressing her lips together out of nerves, Eden side-stepped out of his proximity, and approached her fridge, glad that she always gets her groceries after she finishes work for the weekend.

With her fridge and pantry full, she willed herself to calm down and started making a midnight meal, as Soldier Boy leaned against the counter near her, and began to grill her about who she was, how he had ended up in her home, and what the fuck has happened since he last had opened his eyes.

The savory scent of seared meatballs took hostage of the cabin’s living room and kitchen, and as Eden continued to cook, Soldier Boy’s mood seemed to improve.

“… and the Super-Goldilocks is back in the Seven, forgiven just like that?”

“I don’t know, I kind of forgot about Starlight and she hasn’t been on the news in ages. I think she’s quit, that is if quitting is an option.”

Eden responded passively whilst stirring the pot of pasta, and Soldier Boy let out a loud, humorless laugh. The American ex-hero was now more than half-way through the large whiskey bottle, now dressed in oversized grey sweats and a dark shirt, or rather it was oversized for Eden, but him just right. Eden hated to admit it, but she doubted anything would look bad on him.

Dinner was going to take some time – Eden made the strategic choice to make something reasonably time-consuming, in case he intended to kill her post-meal, and in the event he’d kill her because the food was bad – and Eden had offered her shower, spare toiletries and a change of clothes after he had conducted his interrogation of her.

“Denver, Colorado.”

“So, you’re a Coloradan.” Soldier Boy asked, staring at her intently as she cleaned and chopped some onions, in her sweats and sandy-brown hair in a high pony.

“Born and bred.”

“Age.”

“Twenty-five. Turning twenty-six in a few months.” Eden did not see Soldier Boy raise his brows at her.

“What do you want from me?” This confused Eden, who furrowed her burrows.

“Nothing.”

“And you have never worked for Vought?”

“Nope, not interested.”

“And Butcher?”

“Butcher what?” Eden turned around to face the man in her cabin, setting down the knife she held onto the cutting board. “… You mean have I killed anyone? No, I don’t really like hurting people.”

The questions began to trail off and finish, and Eden’s answers seemed to satisfy Soldier Boy, as did her meal she prepared, which was a warm meatball stroganoff.

Eden wasn’t blind and could see that Soldier Boy was big, so she plated as much as possible on a large plate, and placed it on the single plain plastic mat which was laying on the kitchen dining table, along with a fork and knife. Soldier Boy had been already sat at the table, and smiled at her oddly enthusiastically.

“Bon appetite.” Eden said tiredly as she sat down a seat away from her guest, who had already began eating ravenously, ignoring her.

Unlike Soldier Boy, who only seemed more alive as each moment passed, Eden was exhausted, and could feel that tiredness in her bones. Probably due to that tiredness, Eden sat in silence, expressionless, as she watched her guest empty his plate and let out a satisfied burp.

“That was not half-bad, doll.”

Soldier Boy commented as he took another swig of the whiskey. But before he was able to set it down on the dining table, Eden grabbed the bottle, now not only tired but irritated by his comment, and chugged it near to its end. As she did, Soldier Boy met her brown eyes, lips quirked with a tilted head, as though amused by her little outburst. His face tilted down, as though daring her to say something, and with liquid courage, Eden did just that.

“Are you going to kill me? I’m tired, so if you’re not going to, I’m going to bed. Feel free to sleep on the couch, in the guest room, or don’t. You can leave, I really don’t care.”

As she finished speaking, the brunette could feel her head begin to spin, and dropped the bottle onto the table before pushing herself off her seat and stamping to her bedroom, not bothering to wait for her guest’s response, who simply raised his brows at her outburst and finished off the bottle.

Who the fuck does he think he is? Eden thought as she collapsed onto bed. Her bedroom door was open and Eden did not even bother to change before falling asleep.

The blaring, repetitive high-pitched sound of Eden’s alarm penetrated into her sleep, and as she woke up, Eden cursed herself for forgetting to switch it off for the weekend. It was a Saturday morning, so why the fuck would she need to be up at half past six in the morning.

Her eyes burned as she started at her ceiling, which was beginning to get lighter, signaling the start of a new day. Eden was just about to drift back into sleep, until she remembered the night before, and the large dangerous man in her cabin.

Soldier Boy.

Suddenly Eden’s heart began to race again and involuntarily the brunette sat up, as her body now jolted into complete consciousness.

Fucking hell. Eden thought, as she reluctantly sat up in her bed, still tired but now sleepless.

The November freeze was beginning to set, her room failing to maintain its warmth. On top of her clothing, which still reeked of cooked beef and seasoning, Eden threw on an oversized lilac hoodie and draped herself with her blanket as she walked out her room, and looked around her quiet house. Except for the unmade guest bed and last night’s cooking, there was no sign of him, and Eden wondered whether he had left.

As she cleared the mess from last night, the thought of him gone brought her relief, until she looked out the kitchen window and saw the fucker on the cabin’s deck, watching the sunrise.

Sighing, opened the kitchen back-door, and blanket still draped over her, Eden walked up to Soldier Boy, who did not react in any way, instead just watching the mountains and the trees against the backdrop of the sun rising. The morning birds began their song, and Eden would alternate between watching the scene and glancing at Soldier Boy, who stood unphased in the freezing cold in sweats and a thin black shirt, which was tight against his built chest and massive arms.

Of course he doesn’t feel the fucking cold.

“It’s a nice view.”

Soldier Boy was the first to break the silence, and as he spoke, the winter sun cast a golden hue onto his face. He was still watching the trees whilst Eden watched him, and as a sharp wind passed, Eden tighten the hold on her blanket. Not knowing what to say, and definitely not pegging him for a sentimental guy, Eden mumbled in agreement, looking away.

“It is.”

Eden was right, Soldier Boy was not a sentimental guy, and he was never one to appreciate nature. He didn’t give a fuck about it, never did, but for some reason, it caught his attention now. He didn’t feel like himself, not since he woke, and whilst Eden slept, Soldier Boy was left with his thoughts, processing what had happened to him.

He was betrayed by his team, again. He felt lost, again. He felt like a nobody, forgotten, a fucking loser, again. And he was so fucking sick of it. Still looking out, feeling oddly vulnerable, Soldier Boy spoke in his usual cadence.

“My name is Ben, short for Benjamin. Did you know that?”

Eden remained quiet, and Soldier Boy turned to look at the girl next to him, who shook her head again, still intimidated, and Ben chuckled in response.

“You can use your words, doll.”

“No.” Eden’s throat felt dry, and she still didn’t know what else to say.

“I was born in Philly. We don’t have as many mountains there.” Soldier Boy stated simply, before looking out at the mountains again, finishing.

“This really is a nice view.”

In this moment, Eden wondered whether he really was that threatening, or whether she was being a coward and judging him too harshly. Taking a breath, she spoke up.

“If you think is nice, you’d love Colorado. The mountains are much grander, and the nature is breathtaking.”

Soldier Boy turned back to face Eden, tilting his head.

“Then why’d you leave?”

The brunette took no offense, and smiled as she answered.

“No reason to stay.”

Turning away, Eden stripped the blanket off herself, ignoring Soldier Boy’s burning stare and deflected before walking away.

“How do pancakes sound? Not too brag, but my Home-Ec teacher said that my pancakes were the best in the class.”

“Bet they are.” Soldier Boy responded loudly, smiling with his teeth, his green eyes fixated on the now visible outline of Eden’s ass as she walked away, her hips naturally swaying with every step she took.

Eden quickly noticed that Soldier Boy – or rather, Ben – actually really liked her cooking, and she wondered whether that was why he hung about her cabin. The leftovers of last night’s pasta must have been finished while she was asleep, and similarly, the pancakes she made in the morning were completely devoured.

The only thing Ben seemed to like more than her cooking, was the weed she bought from Jenna. And Jesus, did it stink up the cabin. Eden thought she could handle it - the depletion of her fridge, the heavy scent of Ben’s smoking, and occasionally, some strangely intrusive questions – and on that first day, she did. When Eden wasn’t cooking food, she was sat on the living room sofa reading whilst the TV was playing and Ben was smoking and drinking, and when Ben wasn’t smoking or drinking, he took it upon himself to start a one-sided conversation.

“College?”

“Dropped out.”

“A good girl like you? Bullshit, I don’t believe it.”

“I’m not forcing you to, but I doubt I’d be living in the woods and working as a receptionist forty minutes away if I did graduate.”

Ben continued asking personal questions about her and occasionally opened-up about himself. Eden didn’t learn much, but she did learn that he went to boarding school, and that his favorite movie was A Streetcar Named Desire.

“Marlon Brando, now that’s a real man.” Eden doubted that Ben knew anything about the Last Tango in Paris movie controversy which involved Brando, and considering he literally belonged to the previous century, she doubted he’d care.

With that personality, he should thank God for his looks. Eden thought more than once.

As the days passed, Eden did not expect Soldier Boy to be so genial, but she didn’t question it. If he was going to hang around her, she’d prefer him curious and amiable, rather than hands wrapped around her throat (and not in the sexy way).

After two days of this though, Eden grew quickly tired.

Rather quickly, the food in her house ran out and Soldier Boy – correction, Ben – had almost finished the weed, despite her purchasing a copious amount. Eden wasn’t made out of money, obviously she wasn’t, no one was nowadays with rising fuel and energy prices.

And since her guest was not exactly bringing anything to the table, and Eden had to go back to her job the following morning, she started to feel a little tense. On top of that, Eden was used to being alone, having been like that for years now, and having company honestly drained her.

“Hey Ben.”

Dressed in her red coat, Eden walked up to her guest after clearing up the dishes from dinner (it was lasagna, so thankfully not that many dishes).

Ben was sat on a wooden chair on the deck, now in a simple white t-shirt, still smoking and drinking. As usual, when Eden was not talking to him, Ben sat alone with his own thoughts, and Eden wondered what took up so much space on his mind.

Soldier Boy hummed in response as she walked up to him, taking the seat beside him. It was rather late, still cold, but the sky was clear, and the moon shone brightly.

“I’ve got to get up early for work tomorrow, and I’ll be away until the evening –”

“Skip it.” Ben interrupted Eden with a grin, before taking another puff of his joint.

“I can’t.”

“Why the fuck not.”

This time when Ben exhaled the smoke, the wind blew it onto Eden’s face. Eden was never a particularly patient person, and unsurprisingly, she found herself irritated by this.

“Because who’s then going to pay for that weed. You’ve already asked me to get more, and money doesn’t fucking grow on the trees.”

A crack in Soldier Boy’s friendly façade appears, as his smile tightens.

“Cussing is not attractive, doll.”

“And neither is bumming it. Go fuck yourself. And my name is Eden, not doll. It’s twenty-twenty-two, not the fucking nineteen-seventies.”

Eden’s response was quick, and with every word, her voice raised, meanwhile Soldier Boy’s smile minimized and jaw clenched, as though he were restraining himself. Unlike Soldier Boy though, Eden could not bite her tongue and continued her rant.

“And while we’re at it, what exactly are you – are we – doing? I’ll be going to work and you’ll be here, doing what? You’re welcome to stay, but I don’t particularly want Homelander or Vought on my front-porch, ready to discard me as collateral damage.”

As she spoke, she unconsciously started gripping the chair’s arm, which began to crack, and Soldier Boy noticed this.

“I’m sure you can take care of yourself, doll.”

“Of course I can look after myself, but just because you’re here doesn't mean that I'm a little housewife, cooking and cleaning after you, whilst also working and watching my back for your enemies.”

At this, Soldier Boy’s patience finished and now he spoke in the same spiteful tone.

“I didn’t ask for your help, or for anything from you. You decided to play hero all on your own. And you know what I fucking think, sweetheart, I think that your panties have been dry for a very long time and you jumped at the first opportunity you saw a real man who could fix that for you. Nothing to be ashamed of or get prissy about.”

Soldier Boy’s monologue was cut short by the sound of sharp slap.

Eden, stood now, didn’t hold herself back when she slapped her hand against Soldier Boy’s cheek, and her super strength definitely showed, as Soldier Boy cupped the point of impact with his free hand, dropping his joint to the ground, his eyes now glazed with a look that infuriated Eden even more. Eden didn’t care if Soldier Boy would kill her now and continued insulting him.

“Jesus Christ are you delusional. I would stab myself a million before I even fucking touch you–”

Eden was unable to finish her sentence, because in the blink of an eye, her face was grabbed firmly, and she felt warm lips aggressively press against hers, and hairs scratch against her skin.

Eden didn’t even really like him, so why the fuck was her first instinct to reciprocate, close her eyes and open her stupid fucking mouth. And as they made out in the freezing cold, Eden suddenly felt to warm in her coat, and as Soldier Boy pulled her on top of himself, Eden, still very much kissing him, started peeling off her coat, feeling just too warm.

And the most embarrassing part was not Eden’s reciprocity, but that Soldier Boy was the first one to pull away and hold her back as she instinctively pushed forward to meet his lips again.

“You were saying, doll.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up.”

Snapped to reality for a moment, Eden tried to pick herself up and get up from Ben’s lap, but before managing to do so, with strong hands around her waist, Ben pushed her back in, letting their lips collide again. Irritated with him yet again, Eden stubbornly refused open her mouth until he lightly bit her bottom lip, causing her to gasp, giving his tongue to opportunity to enter her mouth again.

Not that Eden would ever admit to him, but it had been a long time since she’d last have sex, specifically since her God U days before she broke up with her ex, and she has been practically celibate since. And something inside her took control as she was forced by her intuition, and ignored her rationality, similar to when she first saw Soldier Boy on the beach weeks ago.

Without realizing, Soldier Boy picked up Eden and she instinctively wrapped her around his waist, and her hands moved to his hair, gripping on the strands and inciting a groan from him. His lips were on her own, and on her jaw, neck, ears, chest, stomach, legs, and practically everywhere else, and as the night went on, the two of them did it in the kitchen, living room, and eventually reached her bedroom.

Ben would call her sweet, tell her she tasted just like that, and Eden would tell him to shut up, and to keep going. The brunette did not even know that this part of herself existed, the part of her that was so set on simply just fucking someone else and actually enjoying it, pleasure with no real love or attachment present, and Soldier Boy was more than happy to provide that experience for her, repeatedly, all night long.

When Eden woke up, she was not greeted by a warm body next to hers, but by the familiar blaring beeping of her stupid alarm. Eden’s eyes were blurry, and her head pounded as she sat up to switch off her stupid alarm, which informed her of the time. Half past six.

Eden’s head hurt, and as she rolled back to bed and turned to her side, flashes of the previous night came to her.

Her nails scratching his bare back as he entered her.

His teeth sinking into her chest, leaving temporary wet marks.

The bitter taste of his mouth, and how she didn’t entirely hate it.

Ben.

As Eden started remembering, she sat back up and her bed creaked, something it did not previously do. The brunette looked around her room, only to find it empty. Eden assumed that Ben probably went back to the guest bedroom, or maybe decided to get an early start to his drinking and smoking.

It wasn’t her business, but Eden was curious, and her feet moved on their own accord, first to the guest bedroom, which was empty, bed still undone of course. The house was quiet, with only the birds chirping in the background.

Odd.

As Eden ventured of to the living room, and then the kitchen, she found the place a mess – with throw pillow all over the place and glass shards scattered in one corner, from when Eden accidentally pushed it off the kitchen counter only some hours earlier – a consequence from their late-night activities.

Eden’s eyes scanned her living space, but no sign of the large man who had haunted her house for the past weeks could be found. Eden looked around the cabin’s front porch and back-deck, but it was just the same, empty. The only sign left of Soldier Boy was the small pile of laundry he left on the ground, and the stench of weed that occupied various spaces around the cabin.

Stop it.

Eden scolded herself as she went to freshen up for the day and get ready for work. Soldier Boy – Ben – probably felt cooped up and decided to go for a run or explore the area. And even if he left, who the cares. Eden sure as hell shouldn’t. Ben intruded in her space, contributed nothing, wasted her time and energy, and made such a mess. He was not nice, and did not sincerely thank her even once.

Sure, he was a good fuck, but that’s it. And was he even a good fuck if he didn’t even bother to put on a condom or ask if she was on birth control? That’s the thing about men, you couldn’t count on them for anything. That’s exactly why Eden had a copper IUD, because even with her ex of two years, she couldn’t count on him (apparently it didn’t feel as good with rubber).

Anyways, it doesn’t matter.

Or that’s what Eden tried to tell herself as she brushed her hair and applied lipstick, before heading out of her home, dressed in her usual outfit for work, a modest black dress and her coat. Glancing at the hallway clock, Eden observed the time, and saw that it was almost eight, which was the perfect time to leave, as she’d still have time to grab a coffee before reaching the clinic.

But as she looked at the trinket tray which sat on the cabinet by the door, she found it bare, missing something really important.

The keys to her Mazda.

The keys to her fucking Mazda were missing from the place she always kept them at, ever since she moved to her cabin over four years ago.

“Motherfucker.”

Author's Note: I'm feeling a little delirious, and I've proofread this but am not entirely certain about its quality and grammar. If there are any mistakes or something doesn't make sense, apologies! On another note, I've started watching Supernatural 🫡 Jensen Ackles, oml Also, if you are enjoying the story, I always appreciate comments as they really motivate me!

– Chapter 3

[thesilmarillionblog]

𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u

Part: 6

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: heavy angst, hurt, language, PTSD, violence, mention of drugs, mention of torture, mentally unstable Soldier Boy, anger issues

Word Count: 3127

A/N: English is not my first language.

* This story is inspired by the song "Losing You" by Dream Evil.

For the previous three days, Soldier Boy, Butcher, and Hughie had been searching for you and researching research from several decades ago. Ben wasn't doing well since he was becoming more and more impatient every day and was preoccupied with what he had done to you. The most difficult part was that you might still be tortured while he is free, in spite of his failings. He was struggling not to punch the two idiots who said they could help him find you, but the fact was that he felt guilty for not finding you quicker.

Soldier Boy was constantly smoking weed, and Hughie was staring at the screen of the device he had in his lap, which he called his "laptop." Soldier Boy was taken aback to discover that the device's internet genuinely knew everything. He studied everything fascinating about the modern world during the night so that when he found you, he could teach you such things.

“According to an official statement, Y/N betrayed the company by selling specific highly confidential information to Russia. This had to have happened after you were captured and taken to Russia. Am I correct?” Hughie questioned, showing Soldier Boy the date.

Ben became outraged and said with rage, “Yes,” taking a tenth sniff at the drugs that were on the table. “She didn't rebel against the government; screw that. Selling information to Russia? She wouldn't even offer her flowers for sale.” He truly wanted to prevent himself from punching Hughie or the internet. “Fucking snakes.”

Hughie and Butcher exchanged a look as Soldier Boy went on to swear and praise your innocence. Hughie got a bit anxious when he heard his heater's alarm go off.

With a swift “Okay, okay,” Hughie calmed Soldier Boy. “You can't always rely on the Internet. Everyone knows that already.”

With a suspicious voice, Butcher asked Soldier Boy, glancing at the TV from Hughie's other side, “Why did she leave them though? There has to have been something that happened.”

Soldier Boy was making a lot of effort to move past these painful recollections in order to start over, but those guys were a little too inquisitive and were doing everything in their power to make him feel uncomfortable. He lied, not knowing what to say, saying, “I don't know.” He could feel the heat rising in his chest every second as a result of their pointless questions.

Soldier Boy inhaled deeply and paused for a moment, ruminating on the day he fired you from the team in a very jackass way. If he had seen the previous version himself, he would have suffered a major head injury. You wouldn't have had to go through such things if only he had listened to you once. He caused you to be hurt in every manner possible.

“She didn't do anything wrong, yet I dismissed her from the squad. Noir is the reason everything happened. What a fucking  traitor!” In an attempt to hide his errors by placing the blame elsewhere, Soldier Boy said it aggressively.

Butcher's eyebrows rose up, and he turned to face Hughie, who had been trying to figure out what Soldier Boy was saying.

“What action did Black Noir take? I take it that he didn't fuck her or something during the time you developed feelings for her.” Butcher questioned him in a humorous way.

Ben growled, “Watch your fucking language, or I'm going to make you gargle my hairy balls in that garrulous mouth of yours,” while Butcher gave him a frightened little look to Hughie, who was about to pee in his trousers since the alarm of the heater was freaking him out with his every word. They wouldn't do well if Butcher continued to annoy Soldier Boy in that way.

“You don't need to know the fucking details; just find her,” Soldier Boy continued, cutting Butcher off before he could say anything else.

This states that she would be imprisoned in America for the rest of her life due to her betrayal and that her body would be studied in the future. It appears they covered up your situation but not hers. Hughie continued to scam every headline about you, saying, “There is no more recent news.”

When Hughie said your body would be examined by the best scientists and doctors, Soldier Boy cursed again. Despite being the strongest superhuman in the world, they had tried to kill him by torturing him severely for years. Even to him, they were all downright painful and disgusting. He didn't want to think about how much pain you endured for decades because of his mistakes. When he saved you from the lab, he would make sure everyone who had harmed you died there, and you could start over.

“Actually, we have a very good friend from Vought. She is also conducting extensive searches by herself. It won't be long until we locate your teammate for you.” Hughie said as he picked up his phone as soon as it began to ring.

Despite the fact that it has been a week and the explosion he created is still being shown on TV every night, Soldier Boy cautiously listened to every phone call in the hopes of learning something about you. However, there was still no single sign. He was sure they were plotting new plans to capture him once again. All of them were fucking cowards.

Butcher offered Soldier Boy a glass of whiskey while Hughie was on the phone with Annie in the kitchen.

“Is he fucking a supe woman?” Soldier Boy asked in disbelief. That guy, Hughie, was full of surprises, though his face was screaming that he was a bottom.

“Never judge the book by its cover,” Butcher smirked.

“So the whole thing was a lie, huh?” As if Ben hadn't repeated the same thing a hundred times, Butcher inquired again. “She must have done something really bad to find herself in a situation like yours.”

Butcher was interested in hearing the story because he wanted to know what was ahead. Dealing with Soldier Boy was dangerous enough, but it would become even more problematic if you shared his anger management issues. For a week, Butcher watched your films and interviews, but he was aware that the media was the least reliable source on earth, particularly when it came to superheroes.

With a menacing glance at Butcher, Soldier Boy merely stated, “She didn't do anything wrong. All she wanted to do was get herself free from the team. It seems that they decided not to respect her decision to leave.”

“What do you think she’ll do when she’s free?” Butcher asked with curiosity and added, “Will she team up with you again despite all?”

For days and hours, Soldier Boy had considered saving you, but he dismissed your feelings upon seeing him again. Thinking about it was not something he wished to do. Even though he was well-known for his confidence, he had been secretly experiencing some insecurity lately, even if he didn't want to acknowledge it. It wasn't that he didn't look nicer; in fact, he was in better form than before, but he was anxious that your opinion might change about him. He was aware that your rescue was more essential than those things, though. Later on, he would be considering the relationship between you.

“I don’t know, but of course she’ll team up with me,” he said trying to sound confident and sure of himself.

Soldier Boy instantly got up from the couch when Butcher's lips parted to ask another question. He focused on the woman Hughie was speaking to on the phone. She was talking about a supe expert physician who had been assigned to study the bodies of the captive supe for scientific purposes for decades, someplace in America.

With great excitement, Hughie hung up the phone and turned to face Butcher and Soldier Boy. He said, “Annie found something. Searches conducted by the government on supe bodies appear to have begun decades ago with Soldier Boy and Y/N. They recruited the world's brightest physicians and scientists to work strictly with Vought.”

Soldier Boy impatiently urged him, saying, “Go on” and tell all the shit already.

“All right. There is a single scientist in charge who watches over all supe captives for his scientific studies. He is required to report to Vought twice in a span of three months, in great detail. It has continued for many years. He is retired last year, but he most likely has knowledge of the location of Y/N.”

Soldier Boy thought, Fuck. At last, he located you. As Hughie spoke about the significant possibility of somebody knowing your whereabouts, his heart raced with excitement.

Butcher said, “Starlight did a really good job there, huh,” with a meaninful grin at Hughie's bashful but proud smile.

After a little period of time spent lost in thought, Soldier Boy eventually grabbed his shield from the corner, straightened his suit, and exclaimed, “Let's fucking give a visit this son of a bitch.”

Soldier Boy ignored Butcher and Hughie's warnings and used a forceful move to smash through the old man's door after spending hours on the road and thinking about you. Soldier Boy cast a glance in the direction of the elderly man and thought, ‘They could go fuck themselves.’ Because of his alleged scientific accomplishments about the supes, he was obviously living in luxury. As Soldier Boy cautiously made his way inside the doctor's huge home, his heart was filled with immense fury. He considered the number of times this old cunt had tormented you in order to send Vought a disgusting report.

The doctor was sitting on his couch, watching the news on TV, when he noticed Soldier Boy standing right in front of him. As the strongest supe and two other men entered his home as if they intended to kill him, he was in disbelief and did not know what to do.

After cleaning his spectacles, the doctor said in a shaky, scared voice, “What's happening? Why are all of you in my house?”

Butcher replied, “This is not very welcoming of you, old man,” and he turned off the TV before sitting down on the closest chair. Hughie swiftly but gently took the phone from the old man's hands when Butcher noticed him reaching for it. Hughie made the doctor sit down again with the same gentleness.

Soldier Boy gripped his shield more firmly, as though he were about to engage in combat with his greatest enemy. He gazed at the elderly man in front of him who was in fear and worry, and he loathed him. Still, he had good reason to be frightened. After all, that would be his last day.

“You live in a nice, big house, huh?” Soldier Boy spoke as he moved slowly in the direction of the doctor. “It appears that you made a good living off of the supes you tortured.”

As Soldier Boy approached with menacing steps and a look like a bloodthirsty murderer, the doctor gulped down nervously. “It's not what you think. I don't know how you escaped from Russia, but you need to stay calm and listen to me,” the elderly guy remarked, raising his hand in protest. “My actions were crucial for both the ongoing wellness of the world and the study of supe.”

"Why the fuck would I listen to your bullshit at all?" Standing by the elderly doctor, Soldier Boy remarked fiercely. “You tortured and used supes for money, you fucking old shit.”

The doctor raised his eyebrows slightly and replied, “Not for money. My work throughout the years has contributed to a better understanding of superhero bodies, which has made it easier to bring your kind to the pinnacle of perfection.”

Before Soldier Boy, Butcher growled, “Perfection? Fuck that. You just made the government's weapons better, served their evil shit for years. Nothing more.”

Soldier Boy battled to contain the heat rising from his chest. Instead of apologizing and beg for his life, the doctor didn't acknowledge that what he had done was wicked and immoral and continued to defend himself which made Soldier Boy even more angrier.

“I saw the explosion in New York from the TV,” the doctor said, adjusting his eyeglasses and looking at Soldier Boy carefully. “You cannot deny that what you experienced in Russia made you stronger and better.”

“I killed people there, you sick old fuck.” Soldier Boy grunted and looked at the doctor with disgust. “Have you fucking lost your humanity by examining the supes for years?”

Without letting the doctor  talk any further, Soldier Boy asked angrily, “Where is Y/N? Don’t tell me you don’t know a shit, because I fucking know you sent some reports about her to Vought.”

Butcher and Hughie worriedly watched Soldier Boy, his hand clenched into a fist, as if he may blow at any moment. Soldier Boy grew angrier the longer the old bitch talked. 

The doctor honestly said, “Yes. I spent decades working on her. I can't dispute that she's a bit of a rebel, or somewhat resistant. But because of the research we were able to conduct on her body, we were able to perfect Comp-V, which undoubtedly contributed to Queen Maeve's current status as the strongest female supe in history. And without a doubt, your body assisted Homelander in becoming the strongest supe ever.”

Hughie muttered, "Holy fucking shit," at witnessing the ascending smoke rising from Soldier Boy's chest.

“Where is she now?” Soldier Boy repeated, trying to maintain composure and control over his body while ignoring what the doctor said. “Where on earth are you keeping her concealed?”

“Calm down. I'll tell you where she is,” stated the doctor. “It appears that there will be no stopping what is about to come about, which will ultimately bring the two of you face to face with the Seven. When you get back to where you belong, you'll both realize how weak and worthless they are; you'll see they are the upgraded versions of yourselves.”

Hughie and Butcher quickly left the house after realizing that Soldier Boy would soon blow up the entire place. The doctor didn’t feel anymore as he realized it was his end. He knew such thing would happen sooner or later. He had already a good life after all.

It's fine, he thought, if it was a challenge. If needed, he could simply kill those seven whores. Soldier Boy was willing to remind them all how fucking stupid it was to fuck with him. If this fucking old dick believed he had made the new supes better than him and the rest of the world agreed with his bullshit, Soldier Boy would show them how wrong they all were.

“Where is she?” Soldier Boy growled again as he was getting closer to blow up.

“She’s in Ohio,” the doctor said, giving the full address just before Soldier Boy exploded the whole place into ashes.

This time, unlike the second explosion he had in New York, he did not pass out. He was relieved and at ease at the same time because it appeared that he was becoming more adept at using his new powers. Luckily, he was also able to locate you at last. He got in the car and gave the address he was given to Butcher, who had been looking into the damage Soldier Boy had done after leaving the burned-out house. Hughie's eyes widened in fear as he crouched where he was seated. 

After several hours, Butcher drove them to a massive, desolate structure that resembled the one in Russia. Soldier Boy was more nervous and angry than ever as he recalled unpleasant experiences, but his need to see you overcame these emotions. His gaze was fixated on the building as they all got out of the car. So that's where you were imprisoned there for years, apart from him and all alone.

Soldier Boy led the way without speaking a word, and when five guys came up to stop him from entering inside, he threw them hard against the wall. It was funny because some of them started shooting at him, like they could hurt him or something. Soldier Boy killed some of the men with his shield, cutting off their heads, and killed some of them with his bare hands, making sure not a single one remained alive.

Butcher followed behind Soldier Boy, providing his assistance with his own firearm while blasting at men who were making desperate attempts to stop them.

As Soldier Boy massacred everyone there and killed those who were wailing in agony, the place fell silent. After all, each and every one of them had a hand in hurting you.

Soldier Boy and Butcher looked everywhere for you. He knew you were in the lab when he walked into a massive, frigid room. Your soothing scent and presence were sensed throughout his entire body despite it was weak. He swiftly ripped off the metal door and killed the last person standing behind it, ripping her heart from her chest in one motion and ignoring her cries.

He found you in a similar-looking metal box to his, with an item covering your face and putting you to endless sleep. Soldier Boy approached your capsule while laying his shield on the ground and with a heavy heart.

“I kept my promise,” Butcher stated, hoping Soldier Boy wouldn’t betray their deal and thankfully, he gave him a promising nod.

“Here's my sleeping beauty,” Soldier Boy murmered, unable to contain his smile as his heart warmed upon seeing your peaceful face, before he violently tore off the metal door to free you.

Next Chapter

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

A/N: Thank you for your comments for the previous chapter! They made me really happy. Comments and reblogs are very appreciated. -`♡´-

Taglist: @mostlymarvelgirl @xmariakx @spnfamily-j2 @suspicious-stain-in-spain @atomicsoulcollecto  @yvonneeeee @starryperson  @mfnqueen1 @chaand-sitara @boywivlove @stilinskisthings @brynanna @delaynew @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @yoyoanaria @n-o-p-e-never @ghostslillady @certifiedhaters

Let me know if you want to be tagged for this series! -`♡´-

[lila-lou]

✨Beyond saving✨

Summary: Dean became a demon and left you overnight. Three months have passed since then, in which you wanted nothing more than for him to finally come back. However, when he returned, it became painfully clear that he could no longer be saved.

Pairing: Demon!Dean x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Rape, Language, Angst, Hurt, Violence, Humiliation - it´s just pure darkness

Word Count: 4289

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

You sat alone in the bunker, your breaths shallow and pained, the echoes of recent battles still reverberating in your mind. Sam, fueled by determination and desperation, had embarked on a relentless search for Dean, accompanied by Castiel. Left behind, you nursed your injuries.

Your ribs ached with every breath, a testament to the encounters with some demons in your relentless search for Dean. Each shadow seemed to whisper his name, taunting you with his absence.

Cradling your injured side, you sank into the cold embrace of a chair, the weight of uncertainty pressing down upon you. How long had it been since Dean had disappeared into the night, consumed by the darkness that had claimed him? The minutes stretched into eternity, each tick of the clock echoing the ache in your heart.

Outside, the world continued to spin, oblivious to the turmoil within the bunker's walls. But for you, time stood still, trapped in a limbo of fear and longing. Every creak of the floorboards, every gust of wind, raised hopes that Dean would materialize before you, his familiar presence a balm to your weary soul.

But as the weeks slipped by, despair threatened to overwhelm you.

In the depths of your despair, a voice whispered a gentle reminder: hope. It was a fragile thread, woven with memories of shared laughter and whispered promises.

With each heartbeat, you whispered a silent vow to never give up on Dean, to keep fighting until he was safely by your side once more.

Two long weeks had passed since Sam and Cas had departed, leaving you to grapple with the silence that hung heavy in their absence. And three months had slipped by since Dean, consumed by the darkness of his demonic transformation, had vanished into the night, his departure leaving a void that seemed impossible to fill.

As you made your way to the kitchen, your movements slow and deliberate, the pain in your ribs flared with every breath.

Reaching the refrigerator, you paused, your hand hovering over the handle as a wave of loneliness washed over you. The prospect of facing another day without Dean, without the warmth of his presence, felt like an insurmountable burden. But you couldn't afford to succumb to despair, not when there was still a glimmer of hope flickering in the darkness.

With a determined exhale, you opened the refrigerator door, the cool air washing over you. Amidst the assortment of food and beverages, your fingers closed around a cold bottle of beer, the familiar label offering a brief respite from the ache that threatened to consume you.

Bringing the bottle to your lips, you took a long swallow. For a fleeting moment, you allowed yourself to linger in the memories of happier times, when laughter had filled the air and the future had seemed full of endless possibilities.

That’s when you heard heavy footsteps echoed through the silence, sending a shiver down your spine as they drew closer. Your heart pounded in your chest, a mixture of fear and longing coursing through your veins. You knew without a doubt who stood seconds later right behind you, his presence a familiar yet chilling presence that sent a tremor of apprehension rippling through your body.

Dean.

The name hung heavy in the air, laden with the weight of everything that had transpired in the months since his transformation into a demon. Three long months had passed since you had last seen him.

And now, as he stood mere inches away, his chest pressed against your back, you couldn't bring yourself to turn around. The air crackled with tension, thick with unspoken words and the palpable sense of danger that surrounded him.

You felt his breath ghost across the nape of your neck, a chilling reminder of the darkness that lurked within him. The urge to turn and face him, to confront the demon that wore Dean's face, warred with the instinct to flee, to put as much distance between you and his darkness.

But as the seconds stretched into eternity, you remained rooted to the spot, paralyzed by the fear that gripped you like a vice. Dean wasn't here to do nice things, of that you were certain. He was a harbinger of chaos, a reminder of the perilous path he had chosen.

And yet, despite the fear that coiled in the pit of your stomach, there remained a flicker of hope, a tiny ember that refused to be extinguished. Deep down, buried beneath the layers of uncertainty and despair, you held onto the belief that somewhere within the depths of the demon that stood behind you, a fragment of the real Dean still existed.

But as the moments ticked by, the silence stretching taut between you, you couldn't shake the nagging doubt that whispered in the recesses of your mind. Would Dean ever be the same again? Or had he been consumed entirely by the darkness that now held him in its thrall?

With a trembling hand, you reached for the bottle of beer on the counter, the cold glass a tangible anchor in the storm of emotions that raged within you. And as you took a fortifying sip, steeling yourself for whatever came next.

Dean's voice cut through the silence like a blade, his words laced with a dark edge that sent a shiver down your spine. "Sweetheart", he drawled, the term dripping with mockery, a cruel reminder of the tender endearments he had once whispered in your ear. "Missed me, did you?", he taunted, his tone sending a chill down your spine.

You could feel his presence behind you, his breath warm against your ear as he leaned in closer. The sensation sent a wave of unease washing over you, his proximity a stark reminder of the danger that lurked within him.

But even as his lips brushed against your ear, sending a shudder of revulsion coursing through you, you couldn't bring yourself to pull away. The memory of the man you had once loved, the man buried beneath the darkness that now consumed him, lingered in the recesses of your mind, a faint echo of a love that refused to die.

And as his lips lingered against your ear, his touch a visceral reminder of the danger that surrounded you, you felt a flicker of defiance ignite within you. Steeling yourself against the fear that threatened to consume you, you squared your shoulders and met his gaze head-on.

"Dean". you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, "this isn't you. I know you're still in there, somewhere"-. It was a desperate plea, a faint glimmer of hope in the darkness that threatened to engulf you both.

But as you spoke, the shadow that lurked behind his eyes seemed to deepen. And though you longed to reach out and pull him back from the brink, to save him from the darkness that haunted him, you knew that the battle ahead would be fraught with peril.

For Dean wasn't just fighting against the darkness within him; he was fighting against the very essence of his own soul.

Dean’s words struck you like a barrage of bullets, each one piercing your heart with a searing pain that threatened to consume you.

“All I want is to fuck that tight little pussy of yours”, he sneered, his voice dripping with venomous lust. “Tried so many girls these past few weeks, but none of them felt like you”.

Your breath caught in your throat. His words were like a dagger to your soul, shredding any remaining fragments of hope or love you had clung to.

As he pressed you against the unforgiving surface of the kitchen counter, his touch rough and unforgiving, you felt a surge of pain shoot through your body. Bruises blossomed beneath his fingertips. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let him see your weakness.

You were overwhelmed, broken by his actions and his words, but you refused to let him break you completely.

“Stop talking”, you whispered, your voice barely above a hoarse whisper.

Dean's laughter echoed off the walls of the kitchen, a cruel symphony of mockery that reverberated in your ears like a relentless assault. The sound of it sent a shiver down your spine.

"Aw, sweetheart, don't tell me you're jealous", he taunted, his voice dripping with derision as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your skin. "You wanna know how I fucked all those other girls while you were out there playing the hero, searching for me?".

The words hit you. You had risked everything to find him, to believe in the possibility of redemption, only to be met with scorn and betrayal.

But despite the pain, despite the overwhelming sense of despair that threatened to consume you, you refused to let him see your weakness.

"Go ahead", you spat, your voice laced with a bitter edge. "Show me. Show me just how little I meant to you. How easily you threw away everything we had".

And as he smirked, his features twisted with triumph, you braced yourself for the inevitable onslaught of pain and humiliation. Dean wasn't the man you had loved; he was a monster, a demon wearing the face of the man you once knew.

But even as he moved closer, his hands reaching for you with a hunger that made your skin crawl, you refused to back down. You were broken, yes, but you were not defeated. And as you stood your ground in the face of his darkness.

Dean's eyes gleamed as he leaned in closer. "Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea", he snarled, before he gripped your wrists with a force that made you flinch.

"I'm about to show you just how hard I fucked those sluts", he continued, his voice low and menacing. "Hard enough to land them in the hospital. They begged for it, you know. Begged for the touch of a real man".

The bile rose in your throat at his words, a sickening mixture of disgust and despair threatening to choke you. How could he speak of such violence with such casual indifference?

But even as the questions raced through your mind, you knew there would be no answers. Dean was lost. And as he moved closer, his hands trailing down your body with a possessiveness that made your skin crawl, you knew that this was about to get messy.

Dean's voice dripped with disdain as he sneered, "Where's your motivation, huh? You call yourself a hunter, but here you are, doing nothing to stop me". His words cut through the air like a whip, each syllable laced with hate.

You gritted your teeth against the surge of anger that threatened to consume you, meeting his gaze with a defiant glare. "My motivation", you spat, your voice trembling with suppressed rage, "is to stop you from hurting anyone else. To stop you from causing any more pain and suffering."

Dean's laughter echoed off the walls of the kitchen, a cruel mockery. "You really think you can stop me?", he taunted. "At the end of the night, sweetheart, I'll get what I came for. And there's nothing you can do to stop me".

“You´re pathetic, Dean”.

Dean's hand struck your cheek with a brutal force, the sharp crack of skin against skin echoing through the kitchen. Pain exploded across your face, a searing heat that radiated through every fiber of your being. You stumbled backward, the force of the blow sending you crashing against the wall, the impact jolting your already broken ribs.

Stars danced at the edges of your vision as you fought to regain your bearings, struggling to draw breath through the haze of pain that enveloped you. But even as you gasped for air, the taste of blood filling your mouth, you refused to let him see your weakness.

Dean loomed over you, his features contorted with a twisted mixture of triumph and cruelty. "Is that fire I see in you now, sweetheart?", he sneered, his voice a low, menacing growl. "Good. Because I want something to burn while I fuck you".

Your fists pounded against Dean's chest, each blow fueled by a desperate fury that threatened to consume you. But his laughter only grew louder.

"Aw, sweetheart, is that the best you can do?", he taunted. "I expected more from a hunter like you. But I guess I overestimated your abilities".

With a primal scream, you launched yourself at him once more, determined to land a blow that would wipe the smirk from his face.

But before your fist could connect, Dean moved with speed, his hand closing around your wrists with a vice-like grip. Pain exploded through your body as he squeezed, the bones in your wrists grinding together with a sickening crunch.

You cried out in agony as he pushed you against the kitchen table, the unforgiving surface digging into your spine. Tears welled in your eyes as you struggled against his iron grip, but it was futile. Dean was stronger, more powerful than you could ever be.

"Look at you, all fire and fury", he sneered, his breath hot against your ear. "But in the end, you're just a weak little girl, aren't you?".

With a trembling hand, you tried to push yourself up from the table, but Dean’s hand came down with a force that sent shockwaves of pain radiating through your body. You cried out as he pushed you back down, the unforgiving surface digging into your stomach, leaving you gasping for air.

“Oh, princess, don’t strain yourself”, he mocked. “You’re much prettier when you’re lying down”.

“You know, sweetheart”, Dean taunted. “I always did like a woman who knows her place. And your place is right here, beneath me”.

Dean's laughter filled the room like a sinister symphony, his eyes gleaming with pleasure as he towered over you. "Oh, sweetheart, look at you", he taunted. "All bruised and broken, yet still trying to get up. Admirable, really".

You winced as pain shot through your broken wrists and ribs, rendering you helpless against his looming presence. Every movement sent waves of agony coursing through your body, but you refused to let him see your weakness.

With deliberate slowness, Dean reached for his belt, his fingers tracing the buckle with a predatory precision. "You know, princess", he murmured, his voice low and dangerous, "I've been looking forward to this. Been craving it ever since I left".

Your heart pounded in your chest, a sickening mixture of fear and revulsion churning in the pit of your stomach. You wanted to scream, to fight back with every fiber of your being, but the pain held you captive, a prisoner in your own body.

As Dean slowly undid his belt, a smirk played across his lips, his eyes alight with twisted desire. "You're going to love this, sweetheart", he groaned, his voice laced with a dark promise. "I'll make sure of it".

You knew what was coming, but you were powerless to stop it.

Dean's grip tightened around you as he pushed you further down the table, his movements rough. You winced as your broken wrists bore the brunt of his force, each new position sending fresh waves of pain shooting through your body.

With a smirk, Dean reached for the waistband of your shorts and panties, his fingers trailing along the fabric with a slowness that made your skin crawl. "Let's see what we have here, shall we?", he mused, his voice thick with anticipation.

As he pulled them down, exposing your dry folds to his leering gaze, a wave of humiliation washed over you. You felt exposed, vulnerable, as if every last shred of your dignity had been stripped away.

Dean's eyes alight with amusement. "Well, well, well", he taunted, his voice dripping with disdain. "Looks like you're making this harder than it should be, sweetheart. What's the matter? Not as wet as you used to be?".

You wanted to scream, but all you could do was lie there, exposed and humiliated, as Dean continued to mock and degrade you.

"Oh, sweetheart, this is going to hurt", he chuckled.

"You always did have trouble taking me, didn't you?", Dean jeered. "But don't worry, sweetheart. I'll make sure you feel every inch of me".

His words struck you like a physical blow, a reminder of the intimacy you once shared, now twisted into something dark and grotesque.

You lay on your stomach on the table, your breaths coming in shallow gasps as you braced yourself for what was to come. Your ass faced Dean, vulnerable and exposed, as he hovered over you.

With a chuckle, Dean reached for his jeans and boxers, pulling them down just enough to free his throbbing length.

"Oh, sweetheart, look at what you're missing out on", he taunted. "You used to beg for this, didn't you? Beg for me to fill you up until you couldn't take it anymore".

As Dean moved closer, his hands tracing the lines of your body, you felt a surge of panic rise within you. But even as you struggled against him, you knew that resistance was futile. He was too strong, too powerful, and you were helpless to stop him.

With a hard thrust, Dean tried to shove himself inside you, but your tightness proved too much for him to handle. The pain was excruciating, a searing agony that threatened to consume you from within.

"Fuck", Dean cursed, his voice strained with frustration as he tried to force himself deeper. "Why do you have to be so fucking tight?".

Tears welled in your eyes as the pain intensified.

"Looks like I'll have to make do," he sneered, his voice thick with contempt as he spat down on his cock. "All because of you, princess. Can't even get wet for me anymore".

Dean gripped your hips with a brutal force, before he thrust himself forward once more. The pain was unbearable, a searing agony that threatened to consume you from within.

"Please, Dean, stop", you pleaded, your voice raw with desperation. But he only laughed, the sound ringing in your ears like a mocking taunt.

"Stop?", he scoffed, his grip on your hips tightening even further. "Why would I stop when we're just getting started, sweetheart?".

Tears streamed down your cheeks, knowing that there was no escape.

With a grunt of effort, Dean pushed himself inside you with force.

You cried out, the sound muffled by the unforgiving surface of the table beneath you, as he filled you with a brutal intensity.

"Fuck", Dean groaned, his voice strained with exertion. "You're so fucking tight".

As Dean continued to thrust into you with a relentless determination, the agony intensified, threatening to overwhelm you completely.

Your body bore the marks of Dean's brutal assault, bruises already blossoming across your skin despite his relentless onslaught having barely begun. Each movement sent shockwaves of pain rippling through your broken form, the agony etched into every line and contour of your battered body.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, silent yet relentless, as you fought to endure the torment that Dean inflicted upon you.

With a cruel grip, Dean pressed your head tighter against the table, his hands exerting a crushing force that threatened to suffocate you. "You're not enjoying this as much as I am, huh?", he taunted.

And then, with a suddenness that left you reeling, he pulled out completely, leaving you gasping for air as he prepared to thrust into you once more. "Let's see how much you can take", he growled.

The table shuddered beneath you as Dean drove himself into you with a brutal force, each movement wracking your body with a searing agony that threatened to consume you whole. "You like that?", he sneered, his voice laced with amusement. "Or do I need to go harder?".

Your pleas for mercy fell on deaf ears as Dean continued his assault, his grip tightening in your hair, pulling your head up with a violent force. "Tell me how much you missed my big cock", he demanded, his voice a menacing growl as he forced you to look him in the eye.

You winced as your ribs cracked even further under the strain, the pain nearly unbearable as you struggled to form words through the agony. "Please", you gasped, tears streaming down your cheeks. "I can't...I can't do this anymore. Please, Dean, just stop".

But he only laughed, the sound sending a chill down your spine as he forced your head back down, his hands like vices around your hair. "Not good enough, sweetheart", he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "Tell me you missed it. Tell me you've been dreaming about it every night since I left".

You choked back a sob, the words catching in your throat as you fought to resist his demands. But with each tug of his hands, each crack of your already fractured ribs, the pain became too much to bear. "I missed it", you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own ragged breaths. "I missed you".

His smirk widened at your admission.

"That's right, sweetheart", he groaned. "You missed me, didn't you? Missed my big cock pounding into you, making you scream".

With each brutal thrust, your cries of pain mingled with his laughter, the sound a symphony of torment that echoed off the walls. "Look at you", he sneered, his hands gripping your hips with a punishing force. "Crying like a little bitch while I fuck you senseless. You love it, don't you? Love being my little whore".

Dean's voice dripped with satisfaction as he hovered over you. "You feel so fucking good", he purred, his words like venom as he surveyed your broken form. "None of those other bitches could compare to you. None of them had that perfect ass and tits. None of them were as tight as you".

You winced as the pain in your ribs intensified with every thrust, each movement sending shockwaves of agony coursing through your body. It felt like your lungs were being crushed, the pressure unbearable as you struggled to draw breath.

Your face was red and swollen from being shoved over the table, tears mingling with sweat as you fought to endure the torment.

With a cruel grip, Dean pulled you around, forcing you to sit on the edge of the table. Your body felt heavy and limp, your senses dulled by the relentless onslaught of pain. You barely registered his rough handling as he grabbed your jaw with a painful force, forcing you to look into his eyes.

"Look at me", he snarled as his eyes transformed into pools of endless blackness. "I want you to see exactly who's doing this to you".

You whimpered weakly, your gaze meeting his dark, soulless eyes as he pushed himself inside you once more. The pain was blinding, a searing fire that threatened to consume you whole, but you were too far gone to fight back. Each movement leaving you teetering on the edge of consciousness.

"You're pathetic", he scoffed. "All this pain, and you still can't look away. You really are mine, aren't you?".

Tears welled in your eyes as you struggled to stay upright, your body wracked with pain and exhaustion.

Dean's grip tightened around your neck, nearly choking you as he held you up to keep you from falling. Your vision blurred, the edges of consciousness slipping away as the pain and lack of oxygen overwhelmed you. Yet, you remained trapped in his grasp, unable to break free from his cruel hold.

"You're still in love with me, aren't you?", Dean sneered, his voice dripping with disdain as he mocked your lingering affection. " You actually think there's redemption for me. How sweet".

Your breath came in ragged gasps, each word he spoke a dagger in your heart. The weight of his words, combined with the physical agony, threatened to crush your soul entirely.

Dean chuckled darkly, his grip on your neck tightening even further. "I'm going to come inside you. Every last drop. So that even when I'm gone, you'll still have a piece of me to remember".

As Dean's lips crashed against yours with brutal force, you felt the sting of his bite on your lip, drawing blood as a surge of pain shot through you. With a loud groan, he released himself inside you, his body trembling with the force of his release.

Through the haze of pain and exhaustion, you felt another rib give way under the pressure, causing agony to lance through your already battered body. But you were trapped, unable to move or escape as Dean held you there to steady himself.

"You took me so well", Dean murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction as he kissed your forehead tenderly. "You always gonna be my favorite".

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as he finally released his grip on you, leaving you slumped against the table, broken and defeated. "I'll come back for you", he whispered, his voice filled with a promise of further torment to come.

Before he left, Dean turned back to you, his eyes cold and devoid of any trace of humanity.

"Stop trying to heal me", he commanded, his voice laced with a chilling finality. "I'm beyond saving".

His words hung in the air like a heavy weight, crushing your hopes and shattering your illusions of redemption. With a heavy heart, you watched as he disappeared into the darkness, leaving you alone with your pain and despair.

As Dean's words echoed in your mind, the world around you faded into darkness. The pain, both physical and emotional, overwhelmed your senses, pulling you into unconsciousness.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 I'm thinking about turning this into a multi-part Story. You up?

-

Part 2

[jacks-wack-attack]

The Big Sky finale killed me. Absolutely murdered me. Here was the thought process while I basically went through the five stages of grief.

Ok so Buck has the girls but it will be fine because I said so

No Beau don't cry because now I am crying and we can't both be messes

Buck no don't blackmail the man just give him his daughter back

GIVE THE MAN HIS DAUGHTER DO NOT GO BACK ON YOUR WORD HOW DARE YOU I WILL COME THROUGH THIS SCREEN AND PUNCH YOU MYSELF

They're not in the trailer. It's fine. They are somewhere else. I am okay. Emily is okay. Denise is okay. I can keep on living.

BEAU PLEASE BE ALRIGHT OK YOU WILL BE FINE YOU'RE ROLLING DOWN THIS HILL AND FIGHTING HIM AND HE HAS A KNIFE AND YOU DON'T BUT PLEASE BE ALRIGHT FOR THE LOVE OF GOD

.... she shot him. She shot Buck. Oh wait. Oh nO WAIT WHAT ABOUT THE GIRLS

*SCREAMS INTO THE VOID*

Ok I know Cassie and Cormac are being emotional but THE GIRLS

THEY FOUND THEM THANK GOODNESS

Catch me CRYING Emily is OKAY and Beau got his daughter back and I am LITERALLY in TEARS

DONNO IS ALIVE AND OKAY I FORGOT ABOUT HIM MY BOYYYYYY

"I felt something. Like my first time at Tim Horton's" - Donno, thank you for making me laugh after this entire episode broke me

YES GO DRINK BEERS TOGETHER BE HAPPY ENJOY EACH OTHER'S COMPANY BECAUSE YOU MAKE A GREAT TEAM AND BEAU YOU BETTER STAY (don't think I don't see that hand on Jenny's thigh y'all are adorable)

So that was the finale. It may come as a shock, but Beau is my favourite (I know, who would've guessed) and seeing him in pain puts me in pain so this whole episode was PAIN with a splash of joy at the end for funsies. It's fiiiiiine I am totally not crying anymore

[thebiggerbear]

"What do you see in him?" "Everything you don't." - Soldier Boy Prompt Response

Summary: Hughie and everyone don't understand what you see in Soldier Boy but they also haven't seen what you've seen: Ben.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female!Supe!Reader

A/N: This is part of the Soldier Boy/Beau Arlen/Dean Winchester/CJ Braxton/Alec McDowell/Jason Teague/Tom Hanniger/Russell Shaw/Boaz Priestly/Jake Gray/Jensen Ackles RPF prompt response project I've been working on the last month (previewed here). This idea immediately popped into my head for it.

All unbeta'd.

Warnings: language; implied past sexual assault (not SB); mentions of implied drug use; mentions of violence; mentions of death

Word Count: 2199

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel; @hobby27; @impala67rollingthroughtown

Soldier Boy Taglist: @birdiellie; @heartlessdelusions; @brightlilith; @muhahaha303; @just-levyy; @solacedthistest; @deansimpala; @foxyjwls007; @onlyangel-444; @faephoria; @believeinthefireflies95

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx; @lyarr24; @bts24; @deans-spinster-witch; @rebel-paladin; @nancymcl

Beau Arlen | Dean Winchester | CJ Braxton | Jake Gray | Jason Teague | Boaz Priestly | Russell Shaw | Tom Hanniger | Jensen Ackles RPF | Alec McDowell

Once MM stormed out of the room, followed by a glaring Butcher, Annie, Kimiko, and Hughie descended on you. Frenchie stayed in the corner, beyond shocked — so shocked he forgot to puff away at his still burning cigarette.

“Seriously?” Annie spat angrily.

Hughie looked more disappointed than pissed off at you, and that somehow bothered you more than Annie’s fury ever could have. “Y/N, you’ve got to explain this one to me. I don’t…” He took a deep breath and began again. “The guy’s a fossil. A racist, homicidal, perverted piece of shit fossil.” Hughie placed his hands on his hips. “What do you even see in the guy?”

Kimiko furiously signed a repeat of the question.

You knew Hughie was right. Soldier Boy had done a lot of fucked up shit — shit that wasn’t forgivable in any way, shape, or form. But you also knew Ben, the man underneath all of that asinine machismo and false bravado. You’d seen glimpses of him here and there when no one else had, when Ben himself hadn’t even known you had. It also didn’t hurt that you’d seen memories of his childhood play in his mind or saw flashes of his strained relationship with his father — the man he could never live up to or gain his approval, no matter how hard he tried. There was a lot swimming underneath the surface of that green suit, under that indestructible skin, that had gotten corrupted and then shaped by easy fame, a greedy corporation, and more drugs than any person should have coursing through their system on a daily basis, even a Supe. All of it was certainly no excuse for the things he’d done, but you knew there was more to him than who he’d been, who he was now even — you’d literally seen it.

So you looked your oldest friend in the eye and spoke as honestly as you could. “Everything you don’t,” you told him quietly before walking out of the room in the opposite direction MM and Butcher had gone in. You came to a stop outside the door when you saw Ben standing there, his green eyes watching you sharply. 

He had obviously heard every word and while it wasn’t exactly something you wanted him to find out, you refused to act embarrassed or caught out. So you stuck your chin up a little higher, daring him to say something he would end up regretting should he piss you off.

“You saw a lot more than you let on when they had you do a read on me after pulling me out of the tube.” Not a question but a statement, one that didn’t contain any traces of surprise.

He was right; you had seen plenty — some things you’d rather forget. But you had meant what you said to Hughie just before, to Butcher and the team before that. There was more to him than the green suit, than the America’s Son bullshit facade, and even the horrible things he had done in his time. There was something there worth trying to extricate, to let see the light of day that hadn’t in a very long time. 

You didn’t respond to what he’d said; you had no need to. You only watched him as he watched you.

Ben took a few wary steps forward until he was right in front of you. He carefully reached out a hand to your cheek, laying his fingers along your skin when he saw that you didn’t immediately pull away from him. 

“So,” he started, his voice a little more gravelly than usual as he spoke quietly to you, only for your ears and his. He tenderly ran his thumb near the corner of your mouth. “I matter to you, huh?”

When you thought he was indeed making fun of you as he thought he might, echoing your words back to you, you noticed a small smile forming on his face as his eyes roamed over yours. You had seen plenty of smiles from the man since you’d first seen him a couple of months ago or so — mostly smug smirks or leering grins, usually aimed at everyone but you — but you had never seen this one before. It caught you off guard so much, you were captivated. “You know you do,” you murmured. 

He stared at you for a moment, glancing between you and your mouth, and then slowly leaned in. When his lips gently connected to yours, you felt an immediate electric shock travel through your system. So much so that you started seeing images playing behind your eyelids that weren’t your own. 

…Him listening to you and Hughie bicker in the next room about which Billy Joel song was the best (We Didn’t Start the Fire for you and Pressure for him) and how he smiled to himself when you told Hughie in a playful tone to suck it when the little whiny bitch tried to show you what the critics helmed the better song. 

…Ben getting angry when some piece of shit Supe had the balls to put his hand on your ass at Herogasm — a hand he immediately crushed.

…Him surreptitiously studying each interaction between you and Butcher, noting the hostility but begrudging respect between you, wondering if there was a story there and if there was, how he planned to convince you that he was the better man for you compared to the backstabbing Brit.

…Him rushing to protect you with his shield when one of Homelander’s team of misfits you didn’t see coming nearly killed you with a massive blow. You felt the rage coursing through his veins when he noticed a small trickle of blood coming from a wound near your scalp as you glanced up at him gratefully. Most of the Supes you had engaged had died that day and now you knew exactly why.

…Ben watching you out of the corner of his eye when you stood at the window, arms crossed and ominously silent, after MM had mentioned The Deep while planning on how to take out Homelander. He waited until everyone had cleared out, even Hughie who had squeezed your shoulder as he passed you by, and Ben carefully approached you from behind, torn between wanting to pull you back into his large frame to cage you protectively in his arms or to ask what was the matter. He had ended up going with the latter and you simply said “Kevin’s not a good person” and walked away, your shoulders a little more sunken down than he’d ever seen them. You felt his resolve from that moment and now knew why he had gone after The Deep with such a laser focus before even bothering with Homelander. 

…You reassuring him when he suddenly woke from a sound sleep, gasping and wide-eyed, as his chest began glowing — a result of him not self-medicating nearly as much as he used to. He had wanted you to feel safe around him so he’d cut back on the Bennies, the reefer, the booze, and even the women. He would never admit it out loud but he cared deeply about what you thought. Unbeknownst to you at the time, when you had first seen inside his head, he had gotten a glimpse inside of yours, too. And what he had seen…he wanted to be a man worthy of you. Or at least try his best. You were everything he hadn’t even known he wanted until that moment. So he had made a valiant effort to kick the drug and alcohol habit to the side but it didn’t come without consequences for him. Ben had dreamt he was back in Russia, stuck in a box as they poked and prodded at him, laughing and telling him he would never be free and he would never see anyone again. When he heard your voice telling him he was safe, he grasped for you and you let him, even though he felt you tense up at his greedy touch. “Sorry,” he gruffed out and immediately released you, worried he had either hurt you without meaning to or had made you uncomfortable in his bid to make sure you were real. “It’s okay,” you whispered, picking up his hand and placing it in between both of yours. “I’m right here. You’re safe.” When he felt your thumb tenderly swiping over his knuckles in reassuring strokes, he rasped out, “Did you see?” Instead of answering, you reached up to lay a hand against his cheek. “You’re home now and you’re never going back.” Your words were a fiery promise enforced by the steely resolve in your eyes. “I won’t let you.” He gently held his hand over yours and the glow in his chest receded; he believed you.

…Him watching you as you slept on the opposite end of the couch. You mumbled and sighed a lot in your sleep and it fascinated him. Earlier, when you had found the show he wanted, he had asked you to sit and watch with him, just in case he didn’t understand any of the references. You had obliged and promptly drifted off two episodes in. To Ben, it was a huge ego boost; you felt safe and comfortable enough around him that you could fall asleep near him. As he watched you, hearing your sounds, he really wanted to know what you were dreaming about, especially when your brows knit together and you let out a terrified whimper. He had picked you up without waking you and held you close to him. “You’re okay, doll,” he promised in a soothing murmur to your hairline. “I’ve got you and nothing is going to happen. I won’t let it.” He heard you inhale deeply and then release a contented sigh a moment later. You relaxed in his arms, curling into him, and he stayed like that the entire night: holding you as he watched episode after episode of Friends, something he had only picked because he thought you might like it enough to agree when he planned to ask you to stay. As much as he enjoyed the sound of your voice when you patiently explained things to him, the night turned out even better than he dared to hope, especially when you subconsciously buried your face into his neck and stayed cocooned there. Only when he heard you beginning to stir back into consciousness hours later did he gently place you back in the spot you fell asleep in, pretending not to notice when you fully woke up, opening one sleepy eye to find him in front of you. He shrugged off your apology and glanced over to find you softly smiling at him, causing a strange twinge to happen inside his chest, something reminiscent of when the nuclear reactor inside of him went off but far less dangerous…and much more pleasant.

The images faded as he slowly pulled back a few inches, his green gaze staring deeply into yours. “Was that okay?”

You slowly nodded, still beyond shocked not only at what you had seen or how gentle the kiss had been, but also the sensations it had caused to sweep through you — things you were pretty sure you’d never feel in your lifetime. Hints of desire and a lightness whispered throughout your body as another stronger emotion gained a foothold and blanketed your entire being. Whereas it might have frightened you before, it didn’t now. You knew you were safe, protected, and after this kiss, you now also knew you were cherished to a certain extent.  

Almost as if he knew what you were thinking, fleeting relief gave way to a small smile on his face and he tenderly placed his thumb on your chin. “Good. Because you matter to me, too.”  

You couldn’t help but smile in return, seeing his eyes light up, and you gently framed his face in your hands. You stood on the tips of your toes and pressed your lips to his again, eager to see more as he willingly put his guard down to let you completely in. You also wanted to experience that rush of sensations again with him and this time when he wrapped his arms around you to carefully hold you against him, you buried your fingers into his hair and only deepened the kiss. It wasn’t Soldier Boy who was kissing you back and whose thumb tenderly brushed against your jawline; it was Ben — the very Ben you’d seen hidden underneath all of the layers of toxic masculinity, simmering rage, and the Supe tamping down the man with years of drug use, womanizing, and an overinflated ego. And from the images and thoughts swimming in your mind that didn’t belong to you, your Ben by all accounts. Something that sadly Hughie and the rest would never understand or even be willing to try. But as Ben soundly kissed you, when he broke away to let you catch your breath and placed his forehead against yours, tenderly rubbing strands of your hair that had come loose between his fingertips, you found that part didn’t really bother you all that much.

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