#jensen ackles x black reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ninii-winchester · 8 months ago

Text

The Witch and the Hunter

Pairing: Dean Winchester X Witch!Reader

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: none, just fluff. But not proofread.

A/n: another crossover fic yayyy!!!

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

It was a lazy afternoon in the bunker and Dean was snooping around the library shelves to entertain himself, while Sam had his head buried in a book, like usual. Dean opened box after box, not finding anything worth his interest. But then he found a weird looking stone, it looked like sapphire, but bigger. It was dusty, he swiped his thumb over it thrice to clean it. Staring at it for a few seconds he didn’t deem it useful so he put back where he retrieved it from and turned to sit back down.

"Achoo." A loud sneeze was heard, and Sam glanced up to see Dean trip over something the moment he sneezed. The younger brother snickered as the older one almost slammed into a shelf in the library.

"What the hell?" Dean looked down and a pair of y/e/c eyes were staring back at him. A velvety coat of Y/h/c fur, It's sleek and smooth, lying flat against its body. The fur gleams slightly in the light, and it looks incredibly soft. "How did a cat get in here?" Dean looked at Sam with accusing eyes.

"Hey! Don't look at me like that, I didn't bring it here." Sam said standing up from his seat and Dean backed up from the creature as he sneezed again. "Hello there!" Sam approached the cat and she hissed at him. Maintaining his distance he kneeled in front of the small feline and cooed at it.

"How'd it even get in here?" Dean sneezed again, glaring at the cat for causing him an allergic reaction.

“Don’t know!” Sam shrugged, the y/h/c furry creature seemed to drop her guard a little as Sam neared her. The big y/e/c eyes blinked twice and then ran past the two men and jumped onto the tables placed in the library. Dean glared at the cat hissed back, jumping down from the table she neared him and started scratching his legs through his boots and jeans.

“Hey hey get off!” Dean slightly kicked his legs to get it off of him. Sam sighed before picking up the feline that was hissing at his brother, it struggled in his arms, wanting to be put down and Sam dropped it onto the table gently.

“Dean maybe you should go to your and it’ll calm down, then we can drop it off somewhere.” Sam suggested and the older brother nodded scowling at the cat, but leaving nevertheless. Sam watched as Dean walked down the hallway and turned back to cat and his jaw dropped when he saw a woman standing in the library with him.

“Blimey! That man was a menace.” Y/n said in a thick British accent, dusting herself slightly. Sam jumped at her voice and stared at her him shock.

“You’re…what…how?” Sam stuttered. “DEAN.” He yelled and Y/n frowned as the same man came back running at his brother’s loud voice. The green eyed man looked at her in bewilderment.

“What the fuck?” Dean exclaimed. The two brothers were now alert and were watching here every move. “Who the fuck are you?” Dean demanded.

“My name is Y/n. I’m a witch.” She replied with a unpleasant look towards Dean.

“Man I hate witches.” Dean mumbled but she heard him. With a scoffed she narrowed her eyes at him.

“You don’t like cats, you hate witches. Aren’t you a picky one, princess.” She taunted, as much as Sam didn’t want to, he let out a snort at her comment earning a sharp glare from his brother.

“How’d you get here?” Sam asked and she looked around the bunker.

“I don’t know, honestly. I was in a battle, fighting and we won. But then I felt dizzy, and it was like I was Apparating, but not by will.” She explained and Sam’s brain clicked onto something as she spoke.

“Apparating as in teleportation?” Sam asked and she nodded. Dean gave him a questioning glance. “So you’re from the wizarding world?” And she nodded again. “Wait a minute! You’re Y/n? As in Y/n Black?”

“How do you know?” Y/n got defensive.

“Would someone like to explain?” Dean snapped looking between the stranger and his brother. Y/n muttered a ‘no’.

“Dean’s she’s from the Harry Potter world.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“Ofcourse you’d know, nerd.” Dean teased but then a wand was aimed the two brothers.

“How do you know Harry? And what the hell are you talking about? Who are you?” She demanded and she didn’t look like she was just threatening. She was serious and she wouldn’t hesitate to hex them.

“Hey easy with the weapons, Woman!” Dean barked and Sam sent him a look which said, ‘not-helping’.

“Look, I’m Sam Winchester and this is my brother Dean. My best guess is you’ve travelled through universes. And we know Harry because well, there are books written on him in our universe and you’re just a fictional character.” Sam explained as best as he could. He could see her contemplating whether to trust him or not. She lowered her wand, slightly.

“What books? How do I know you’re telling the truth?” She questioned warily.

“Uh well, I can tell you stuff like you’re a Sirius’ twin, you’re a Gryffindor, honorary Marauder. Lily Potter was your best friend and you had a crush on Remus.” Sam replied and Y/n gasped. She’s never told anyone that before. Not even Lily. Dean watched as Y/n expressions changed from wary to bashful.

“What? That was years ago. How’d you even know that?” A hint of blush coated her cheeks as she spoke.

“I told you there are books, it’s written in the books.” Sam replied and Dean snickered. Y/n heaved a sigh and looked around the place. “We’ll give you a minute.” Sam said dragging Dean out to the hallway.

“Man, just when I thought you couldn’t get nerdier.” Dean chuckled at his younger brother. Sam gave him a bitch face before speaking,

“So what do we think?”

“I think she’s smoking hot.” Dean grinned earning a groan from Sam. “What? I have a good taste, man. She’s feisty.”

While the brothers talked Y/n stood in the middle of the library, thinking of what to do next. She didn’t know what to do, part of her didn’t want to go back home, after the second Wizarding War, she lost everyone she held dear. Sirius, Reggie, Remus, James and Lily. Everyone is dead. What if this is her chance to start fresh and move on. Besides, Harry doesn’t need her anymore. He has his friends and Voldemort’s gone.

“Sam? Dean?” She called out and the two men came back. She shifted uncomfortably, a thought crossed her mind, she didn’t even know anything about these two beside their names. How’d they even know about magic? Are they bad people? “Do you know how did I end up here? How can I go back?” She questioned. Before Sam could speak, Dean beat him to it.

“I think I know.” He turned to his brother. “There was this blue stone, looked a sapphire but bigger and I was just messing around, I cleaned it with my thumb but maybe it accidentally activated it and brought her here.” Sam asked him where did he find it and Dean gestured to the shelf he was at before Y/n appeared. The two of them followed Dean as he reached the box he found the stone in. The green eyed hunter let out a loud growl as he noticed the box was empty. “What the fuck?”

The other two in the room look at him expectantly and he told him that the stone’s gone. A wave of defeat crashed into Y/n but part of her was relived too. She was confused as to why she was feeling that way.

“Well I guess you’ll be staying here with us for a while.” Sam commented and Y/n looked surprised.

“You live here? This place is a mess. Learn to clean after yourself, lads.” She scanned the place with her Y/e/c eyes and with a huff she pulled out her wand and muttered “Scourgify.” The books and papers laying around started flying around and positioned themselves in their respective places and the place looked good as new.

“She’s staying forever.” Dean mumbled under his breath but Sam heard.

Sam showed Y/n to a guest room she could use while she was here and left her alone for a while. When he came back he found Dean searching for the stone in other boxes of the library. A part of Dean didn’t want her to leave, and he doesn’t know why. They didn’t even start on a good note but he wants her to stay. But he wants to find the stone and leave to her to make the decision if she wanted to go back. After all he knows how important family is and he’s sure she misses hers.

“You’ve got a crush.” Sam commented dropping into a chair. Dean stayed silent, not indulging in the teasing. “Isn’t it ironic though, she’s a witch. You hate witches. And her animagus form is a cat.” Sam cackled holding his chest. “You’re allergic to cats.”

“Shut up, Sammy.” Dean replied knowing it is kind of ironic. He was definitely attracted to her. But he knew she had to go back sooner or later.

Y/n did a lot of thinking while she was left alone in her temporary room. She’d decided to stay, if the Winchesters didn’t want her to stay with them she would leave this place but she didn’t want to go back to the Wizarding world. She was all alone back there, all of her friends and family were gone. But there was another reason that she didn’t want to admit to herself. She found herself quite attracted to the green eyed man. There was some magnetic force that was pulling her towards him. And it was weird as hell since it’s only been an hour that she knows him. And all she knows is his name.

“Guys?” She called out entering the library. The two men turned their attention towards her. “I uh… I’ve gotta say something.” Dean raised his brow, quite interested to know what she had to say. “I don’t wanna go back.” Dean’s breath hitched in his throat, his heart thudding in his chest. “But I won’t be a bother to you guys I’ll leave.” She added quickly.

“What? No. Stay.” Dean spoke before he could register what he said. “I mean you’re a witch and we don’t trust you to not wreak havoc outside. You can’t go unless we say.” He said in a deep voice. Sam looked at him in amusement shaking his head.

“Who even are you?” She questioned tilting her head slightly. Dean found it extremely adorable.

“We’re hunters.” Sam replied gesturing her to take a seat. She took a seat and they explained her what hunters are. They told her all about the supernatural and how they hunt them.

“Werewolves?” Y/n pouted sadly. “You kill them too?” She was upset. Of course she was upset, her friend was lycanthrope too but that doesn’t mean he deserves to die. She didn’t like their ideology. The look on her face didn’t go unnoticed by either brother. But Dean was the one to speak.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. We don’t kill the likes of your boyfriend.” She glowered at him but he remained indifferent. “More like….” Dean trailed off not knowing who to compare it with so Sam added,

“Greyback.” Dean nodded although he didn’t even know what it meant. “We believe not all creatures are bad and we only kill the ones who hurt people. We once let a werewolf go because she didn’t ask for it and she wanted to live a normal life.” He said as he thought of Kate.

“And all witches are bad in your universe?” She questioned.

“Well not all. I mean you’re here in universe and you’re not bad.” Dean winked and she blushed. He was so charming yet so infuriating. Minutes before he said he didn’t trust her to not wreak havoc and now he’s saying she’s not bad.

A month had passed since Y/n had came to this universe. She was now well versed with the hunting life and learned a lot more lore. She wasn’t allowed to go on hunts although they knew she could hold on her own. It was mostly because Dean want her to be in danger. Y/n was always confused when Dean was around. He was either too protective of her or he didn’t acknowledge her existence. If she was attracted to him at first, she’s developed a full fledged crush on him now. And she’s had enough of him giving her mixed signals. She decided to confront him about and knocked on his door. The door opened revealing Dean, clad only in his pyjamas, bare chested and his hair disheveled. Y/n gulped staring at his chest before looking back up at his face.

“What do you want?” Dean questioned his voice a bit groggy. It did something to Y/n which she wouldn’t admit out loud.

“What’s your problem?” She asked pushing past him and entering his room. “Why do you act so confusing around me? One moment you’re all protective and the next you act like I’m invisible. It’s driving me crazy.” Dean opened and closed his mouth like a gaping fish.

Dean blinked, clearly caught off guard by her sudden confrontation. He rubbed a hand through his messy hair, trying to shake off the sleepiness. “Y/n, I—”

“Your constant mixed signals are making it hard to know where I stand with you.” She mumbled softly.

Dean rubbed a hand over his face before speaking, “it’s not that simple okay?” He grumbled. She glared at him with her arms crossed against her chest. He let out sigh,and looked up at her, his gaze softening. “I like you, okay? And I don’t know how to act around you.”

She stared at him, her heart racing. “So, you’re saying that you care about me but you’re not sure how to show it?”

Dean nodded slowly, a mix of frustration and vulnerability in his eyes. “Exactly. I want to be close to you, but I keep messing up. I’m trying to figure out how to be honest without making things worse.” She took a deep breath, her anger melting into a look of understanding.

“Well isn’t it a good thing that I like you too. Quite a lot.” She smiled. “You’re one of the reasons I didn’t wanna go back.” She confessed and he looked at her wide eyed.

“Really?” She nodded her head moving closer to him.

“I don’t know what it was about you, we didn’t even start on a good note, but there was something that was pulling me to you.”

“Trust me sweetheart, we would’ve started real good, had you not been a cat when we first met.” Dean smirked placing his hands on her waist.

“Why don’t you like cats?” She pouted tilting her head.

“I don’t hate them per say, I’m just allergic.” He replied with a soft smile. “And stop pouting like that if you don’t want me to kiss you sore.” Now that he knows she likes him back, he isn’t afraid to show his usual flirty self.

“Who says I don’t want you to?” She asked sneaking her arms around his neck. As he leaned down to kiss her she pulled away slightly and he gave her a confused look. “If we’re doing this, we’re getting you on allergy medication. I can’t let go of my animagus form.” Dean threw his head back as he barked out a laugh. He placed a kiss on her nose.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” Dean took a deep breath, his fingers gently cupping her face as he looked into her eyes, just the two of them in this moment. Slowly, he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against hers. The kiss was tentative at first, a gentle exploration of newfound feelings. But as she responded, his touch deepened, growing more intense and passionate. When they finally pulled away, their breaths mingled in the small space between them, leaving an unspoken promise lingering in the air.

While the two of them hadn’t labeled their relationship yet, they navigated their feelings together, finding comfort and excitement in their shared moments. Although Dean wasn’t sure if the medication would help he tried it for her sake, after finding out Y/n sought comfort in her cat form. It did help immensely and Dean was able to be in her presence while she was in her animagus form. She would usually sleep on the library table on an open book while Sam and Dean would do their research for a hunt. Her loud purring was a comforting sound, sometimes Sam would scratch her behind the ears and she would play with him as Dean watched in adoration. Dean had a fair share of scratches over his hands and arms, while she got too excited while playing but he wouldn’t want it any other way.

The bunker door opened and footsteps were heard, Y/n craned her neck from where she was sleeping in her cat form, the fur on her body standing upright. She watched a figure descend the stairs but Sam and Dean remained nonchalant. Y/n understood the reason as a trench coat came into view and she recognised him as Castiel. She jumped off the table and landed on her four feet and gingerly walked to the angel, and jumped onto his shoulder. He was caught off guard for a moment but relaxed.

“You didn’t tell me you got a pet.” Cas said approaching the boys, while petting the feline on his shoulder. “Especially a cat. How’d you convince him Sam?” He asked gesturing to Dean. The man in question smirked at his best friend.

“That’s my girl on your shoulder, Cas.” Dean said pridefully. Y/n jumped on the table and settled in Dean’s lap before turning back to her human self. Castiel watched wide eyed and quite confused. Dean grinned placing his hands on her waist as she sat sideways on his lap.

“Hello Castiel. Nice to finally meet you.” Y/n said.

Castiel blinked, still processing the sudden transformation. “You’re… Y/n?”

Dean chuckled, his grin widening. “Yep. I told you she had a unique way of making an entrance.”

Y/n laughed softly, leaning into Dean’s embrace. “I figured it was about time I introduced myself properly. Sorry for the surprise.”

Castiel shook his head, a hint of a smile forming on his usually serious face. “It’s quite a surprise. Dean never mentioned you had such… abilities.”

Dean shrugged, still holding Y/n close. “She’s full of surprises. But trust me, she’s as amazing as she is unpredictable.”

“So Y/n, Dean tells me you’re from another universe?” Castiel asked curiously. “How’d you even get here?” Y/n shrugged before explaining, what Dean told them when she first came here. Castiel titled his head to the side, “A blue stone you say?” Dean looked inquisitive as he leaned closer. Y/n and Sam also had the same expressions.

“Do you know something Cas?” Sam questioned.

“It was a Inter-dimensional Soulstone.” Castiel said. “It’s said to be a mythical gem, which has the power to unite Soulmates. It is said to be imbued with the power to bridge the gap between parallel universes. When Dean touched it, it brought Y/n here.” Cas explained. “If Y/n had found it first in her universe, it would’ve taken Dean there.”

The three others absorbed the information Castiel provided, and Y/n felt a warm flutter in her chest at the thought of Dean being her soulmate.

Dean noticed her reaction and gently squeezed her hand. “So, what do you think?”

Y/n smiled softly, her eyes meeting his. “I think it’s pretty amazing. And I’m really glad it’s you.”

Dean grinned, a hint of relief in his eyes. “Me too. Guess we’ve got a lot of good things ahead.”

Castiel nodded, his tone lighter. “It’s a rare and special thing. Enjoy it.”

Y/n leaned in, resting her head on Dean’s shoulder. “I plan to. Thanks, Cas.”

Dean wrapped an arm around her, content. “Here’s to figuring it all out, together.” Dean tilted his head slightly and leaned in, his lips brushing gently against Y/n’s. It was a soft, brief kiss, filled with warmth and affection. When they pulled away, their smiles met, and the quiet connection between them spoke volumes.

Tags:

@spnfamily-j2 @galway-girlatwork @deangirl96 @queensilber

@s0urw00lf @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @deans-baby-momma @fullbelieverheart

@riah1606 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @hobby27

@starkleila @suckitands33 @m3ntally-unstable @kanekilovelove-blog @candy-coated-misery0731

@blackcherrywhiskey @ladysparkles78 @goest-and-fuckest-thyself-blog @graywrites5567

@thelittlelightinthedarkess @enamoredwithbella @winchesterwild78 @myuhh8

263 notes · View notes

barf444 · 9 months ago

Text

HEADCANONS: Ben x Black!Reader

PAIRINGS: Soldier Boy/Ben x Black!Reader

NOTE: I couldn't help myself bc I've been thinking about this and it kinda cracks me up as a black person. sorry. hope y'all find this as entertaining as I do. sorry.

NOTE: English is not my first language.

The man is not just a grandpa, he's a great-great-great grandpa. The man is very cancellable, even if he means well.

"Y'know, I always thought you people were really hot. Broke my heart that they kept us separated for so long. The women, I mean. I'm not fuckin' gay."

He'd make fun of bonnets the first time he saw them and then feel bad and never comment on them ever again.

Ben's the type of guy to do a black power fist when flirting with a black person.

"Y'know I fought the nazis, right?" Begging for kudos.

He would fucking hate straightened/relaxed hair.

"Oh c'mon! If I wanted plain, straight hair I'd fuck another white girl. Cut it out!"

Ben's the type of guy to frown dramatically when you tell him not to touch your hair.

"I may be old-fashioned but I'm not racist. I fuckin' love Michael Jackson." As if that proves that he was not racist.

"What the fuck do you mean Michael Jackson died?"

He's the type of guy to be absolutely mind-blown by protective styles every goddamn time. Just as perplexed by every style, or colour change.

#soldier boy #the boys #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x black!reader #soldier boy imagine #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x female reader #black reader #jensen ackles

172 notes · View notes

s0urw00lf · 2 months ago

Note

I saw your post for requests and I was hoping you could write one of mine 🫠. Can you do something like an au where Dean did go to college briefly but left to continue hunting. But while he was in college he met reader and they start dating and when he left he told her he’s come back for her but he didn’t. Time skip to s3 after he sold his soul he comes back hoping to rekindle only to see how him breaking her heart changed her

Whether or not that get back together is up to you

Back into my life

Dean Winchester x Blackfem!reader

an: im so glad you asked this because its been the longest time since I’ve written for dean and i think its time to add him back to my roster. Also the person who requested this PM’ed me and asked for reader to be black.

Dean knew he was wrong. Dean knew sam knew he was wrong. But he couldn’t help himself, he had a year left and he wants to spend it with the woman he fell in love with all those years ago. If you’d let him. He knew you’d give him hell, but he was willing to take it if it meant he could at least see you again, hear your voice one last time.

“You sure you wanna do this man? I mean y/n is a hell of a force especially when she’s mad” Sam asked from the passenger seat. Dean didn’t answer, he stared at the entrance to the bar that a friend of yours had told him where to find you with a smirk on his face when dean mentioned who he was.

Without even answering he got out of the car, Sam followed quickly behind, hoping that this ended well but knowing your fiery nature and deans macho attitude, it wouldn’t.

When they entered the bar deans eyes immediately found you, you weren’t hard to spot, it was like his eyes just knew where to look. You were laughing with a group of friends in a pretty little dress that complimented your skin and your hair was out of the braids you used to keep them in during college.

Every part of you made his heart pound out of his chest.

Before he knew it he excused himself to the bathroom or really just left Sam standing. And thankfully so because not long after you found your eyes wandering as they did very often and your eyes landed on a familiar face, unmistakably Sam. Your heart plummeted to the ground, you knew that if Sam was here there was a really big chance dean was too.

You excused yourself from your friends and made your way over to the man who had grown even taller since you’d last seen him. You pushed your way through the sweaty crowd hoping to reach him before he disappeared in the crowded club.

You reached him just in time to see him start making his way to a table. “Sam!” You shouted over the loud music. The tall man turned around and his eyes widened as if the reason for being here wasn’t for his brother to seek you out, he just hadn’t been expecting you to see him before dean. “Y/n, its nice to see you” he said scratching the back of his head.

You gave him a look “is he here?” You asked, Sam looked as if he was debating lying but a look from you threw the thought right out of his head “he’s uh- in the bathroom” he stuttered.

You inhaled deeply pinching the bridge of your nose in irritation. After the week you had of course the only guy you’d ever fallen in love with and was so kind as to leave you in the dust, was back.

You looked back to Sam who stood awkwardly, awaiting whatever it was you had to say. “Why now do you two decide to pop up? You got hunt or something?” You questioned squinting your eyes.

“Uh no we-“ “I just wanted to see you again” your heart skipped a few beats at the sound of his voice, that love you had for him blossomed in your stomach as if you were taken back to all those years ago, but the rage also built and quickly overpowered any kind of love that was there.

You slowly turned around facing the green eyed man. He hadn’t looked a day older than the last time you saw him, though his hair was shorter and he was a little taller and muscular he was still Dean.

“Hey sweetheart” he said cautiously with an uncertain smile on his face. You couldn’t stop your hand from connecting to his face with a little too much force before leaving the bar entirely.

Dean was shocked by how hard you hit him, yes he was completely deserving of it it didn’t take away from the shock factor. He looked to Sam who was trying his hardest to hold back his laugh before following you.

You didn’t know what to do, you were driven to the bar by Chelsea and she was somewhere inside doing god knows what.

You couldn’t help the tears that formed in your eyes, you always thought that if he ever came back you’d stand tall and give him a piece of your mind and that slap was hardly scratching the surface of what you needed to say.

You felt like the world was spinning and the sound of him calling your name and his rushed footsteps coming toward you hadn’t been helping.

“Sweetheart please-“ “please what Dean?” You whipped around to face him. “What you want me to listen to whatever sob story you make up so I feel bad for you? Not gonna happen” you shook your head.

Any ounce of confidence he previously had was shattered. Standing here looking at your broken teary eyes he felt his throat closing up. “No that’s not why-“ “how could you do that to me Dean? I gave you my heart, my body and my soul and you took it with you when you left. All I had was one lousy message a promise that couldn’t have meant much to you to begin with. You said you’d come back for me. And I waited, and waited, and waited, for you Dean. For years.” You threw your head back, looking at the stars as you tried to keep from letting the tears in your eyes fall.

There was a long silence, you waited for anything from Dean but you were only met with silence. “One hell of an apology” you said, moving around him to go back to the bar. You had to get Chelsea and go or at least borrow her car, thankfully you weren’t too drunk to drive.

“I tried to stay” Dean shouted from behind you. Your steps faltered to an eventual pause. “I tried to call, hell I even tried to come back” he said. You turned around, his back was facing you and his head was down as if he was ashamed. “Why didn’t you?” You questioned, net even positive you wanted the answer.

“My dad. He came back, after a hunt and I’d got home late from hanging out with you. Even though Sammy could handle himself he was pissed” he paused “he questioned me ten ways to hell until I broke. Told him about you and how much I loved you, that you were good for me and accepted me and what I do.”

You had not even noticed when you started walking back towards him, it was like his body was pulling your body back to him where it belonged.

“I mean he was furious. Never seen him that mad in my life. He packed us up and left, broke my phone and the sim. After a while he told me you were better off without me. That all I’d bring you is death and destruction” the more Dean talked the more broken he sounded.

You grabbed his face moving it to face you. “Oh god… dean” you didn’t even know what to say to him. His eyes held so much pain it couldn’t be health for one person. “ ‘m sorry sweetheart, I should’ve came back, I shou-“ you cut him off pressing your lips firmly to his. You held his face with such softness you were scared he might disappear again.

Dean sighed into the kiss, bringing you closer by your hips, you body felt ignited again. The flame that blew out once he left was back, and you wouldn’t let anything take it away from you again.

You disconnected from the kiss “I’m sorry, I spent all these years resenting you and you suffered just as bad as me” you whispered, feeling like if you spoke any louder you might snap into a reality where this was just a dream.

“You’re mine again sweetheart. From now until the end” for him it wasn’t long. But you didn’t need to know that. Not yet at least.

#s0urw00lf #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fic #dean supernatural #dean winchester supernatural #supernatural dean #dean winchester drabble #dean winchester #Dean Winchester x black!reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester one shot #Dean Winchester au #dean winchester spn #jensen ackles #supernatural reader insert #supernatural fluff #supernatural fic

58 notes · View notes

wiinterz · 19 days ago

Text

: •̩̩͙ ໋ KILL THY FRIEND ˖ Dean Winchester.

moc!dean x angel fem!reader

genre(s) - one-shot, supernatural elements, thriller, established relationship

description - the moment his eyes landed on you, thoughts of tracking you down and ending your existence swallowed every other thought he had. it was not the dean you knew, but truly, out of instinct. but then again, you always wanted him dead too, right? isn’t that your prophecy?

warnings - profanity, typical violence, gore, sam getting hurt, angst, fighting

word count - 2.2k

tay’s letter 💌 - i don’t write about men anymore, but i kin tf out of dean and had this idea in my head for over two years now. also, please note that dean does not have a romantic relationship with reader! i just really love how jensen portrayed him and wished we saw more of moc!dean because dean is such a complex character, just like everyone else. i love his character deeply, and there are so many things i wish the writers did, like actually go into his alcohol problem, etc. anyway, this is just me fangirling over how cool of a character dean is and how well jackles portrayed him.

rules I misc. masterlist

Fingers wrapped around the neck of the beer bottle, pushing it against his plump and bruised lip. The flies that kept passing by him made him swing his left hand by his face. Staring blankly at the body lying flat against the concrete with blood seeping out from his stomach, some parts of his guts by his head.

Lion and man could never be friends.

A sigh escaping from his lips, his eyes look up at the moth that continues to hit itself against the green lit up bar sign. “You never know when to stop.” Twisting his heel to look behind him, there stood his foe.

“You gave me an order, I did my job.” He mumbles sardonically, a smirk almost appearing on his face as he tosses the drink away. “You killed the wrong person, Dean!” Crowley shouts, yet it never pushes the dominoes in Dean down, standing flatly without a stumble. “He,” pointing at the dead body, “was a problem.” He expresses, the claw hammer he used to cut the man down lay beside his head; it was truly in Dean’s luck that no one came out in the back to see what Dean had done. Then again, it was not like Dean cared. It barely satisfied the hunger that began to grow more, yearning for a proper fight, one that would cut him down, stuffing him back into a lonesome hallway for him to crawl out of only to seek and destroy.

Crowley rubs his face, the disdain he had for Dean somehow growing a lot more than when he was human, which he could not fathom that fact. “He was our client! How do you kill-” Pausing himself, Dean’s brows crease, the stubborn blood still on his face and hands. Before Crowley could open his mouth to complain, there stood you, behind Dean.

Turning his back to face Crowley, his hand tweaks, glimpsing down at it before his eyes look to yours. The blood that spilled from the man sat under your shoes, the knife under your sleeve as you stared at him. In seconds, the headlights of his car come into view, his eyes avert to you while paying close attention to the sounds of the ignition turning off and Sam stepping out. “What the hell is this? An intervention?” His question seemed not to be directed at you but to Crowley. “No.” “Yes.” Sam and you say in unison, earning a glare from him, and he sighs, now standing at a distance beside Crowley. “You have a problem,” He explains, hoping to keep a peaceful conversation.

Dean at Sam, scoffing, “That never stopped me.” Sam nods, “Yeah, but Dean, that’s because you’re killing just to kill. I mean you’re not even thinking anymore, and I think we need to get that mark off you now.” He explains, the concern wept over his eyes, his hands by his stomach.

He glanced down at his arm, his sleeve covering the mark, the burn coursing through his veins. The scent of you was throwing him, almost as if intuition wanted him to become an instrument. Killing, pleased him now; it was all that ever mattered. “I’m doing better with the mark, hell, I’m doing fantastic!” He shouts, shaking his head. “You’re not fine, Dean, and if you just let me help-” A laugh escapes from his older brother’s lips. “Oh, you’re serious.” He sizes him, taking in the sadness that gradually displays itself. “I don’t need you, in fact, I could kill you right now.” He whispers the last part.

"You don't mean that," Sam mutters, "I do and God, I wanna kill you so damn bad." He says angrily. Your eyes widen, and the fixed knife in your sleeve falls into the palm of your hand.

“Sam, run!” You shout, tossing the knife, grazing against Dean’s left ear, falling to the concrete. Sam listens, rushing to the impala and driving off. Now, leaving Crowley and you, Dean touches his ear and hums. “You should go too.” He whispers to Crowley, gazing at the blood on his fingers. Crowley raises a brow, staring at you. “I don’t take orders from you.” Crowley’s eyes averts back to him, a laugh leaving Dean’s lips. Picking up the knife and wiping his blood on his pants. “I don’t care what you do, just go.” The gruffness of his tone left Crowley speechless. Nonetheless, he takes one look at you before disappearing.

The silence consumes him, clutching his throat with a rope that could explode his brain any given moment. The green hues of his eyes that used to bring comfort turns into the blackness of the woods he stares at. He whistles, tilting his head and looks back at you.

His invocation.

Your monster.

The raging need to terminate what should have been put to rest resumes in you. The lit sign flickers from over your head, as does his deception of you.

Under the guise of concluding your job, you appear behind Dean again, your left hand placed over his head and right arm covered over his neck, tightening the grip. “I wish not to hurt you, but you left me no choice.” You whisper, a groan leaving his lips as he takes the knife, flicking it over your forearm, making you hiss. “Shut up.” He turns you around, slashing the blade against your cheek, now, your blood painted on the tip of it. Dripping to your chin, you shake your head and gulp.

If chopping you down, limb by limb, leaves him full, then so be it.

You rush to him, your arms wrap around his waist, your face leans against his ribcage as you push him on the ground, twisting his hand and forcing the knife to drop. You let go of his hand, placing yours over his forehead, arching his head back. Your eyes turn white as the palms of your hands, deliberately taking his essence. He screams, while memories of him saving your life repeatedly welcome themselves in your mind. Causing it to be tougher, making what you’re doing much harder than you wish.

He could feel you growing weak, his hand struggling to reach to yours, he overcame, placing his hand over your wrist and pushing it off. Punching your face, forcing you to spit out blood.

Dean pushes you off, and you stand, snatching the blade up and running into the woods for him to follow. The mark retains control, his hands shaking more, his need becoming unbearable. He sighs, walking into the woods, making sure his movements are quiet, becoming a panther searching for dinner.

You continue to run through the woods, not looking back as you think of plans to kill him. You hate how your heart has grown soft for the Winchesters, you hated how being away from Heaven for far too long turned your emotions into a wounded animal the minute trouble came ahead to those men. Your sadness melting into anger, Dean would never hurt you, but now, Dean had been far too gone. If saving him could have happened, it should have been long ago, but then again, would Dean subconsciously want that?

Slamming into someone, you stop, staring in terror when seeing Sam. “What-what are you doing?!” You whisper-yell. He looks around, “Where is he?” He whispers, but the sounds of branches breaking and rustling leaves to the left answer that. You stand in front of Sam, knowing you could take Dean on better. You breathe in slowly, holding your breath before letting it leave.

You observe feverishly, immediately turning your head to the left, before you could talk, Dean bolts to you. His hand yanks yours, snatching the knife out and kicking you in the stomach. Sam stares in fear as Dean looks up at him before getting on top of you. The tip rushes to your pupil, placing your hands over his wrist and forcing the weight to stop him. You both growl, becoming the animals that torment your souls. “Sam, go!” You shout and Dean laughs, “Oh no, boy, you stay right there!” His voice made Sam wince, reminding him of their father.

You growl once again, turning your eyes white, gripping his hands and twisting them to the side, making the knife fling out. Grabbing it before he could, you press it against his shoulder blade, making him glare at you. Bursting the tip in his skin, breaking through and seeing the blood pool over his shirt, you look back at his face. “You bitch.” Your eyes widen at him in shock, “You never spoke to me like that.” A hint of hurt in your tone. “Well now I have.” Forcing you to push the knife deeper into his shoulder, positioning your hands flatly over his chest, and pushing him off. You yank the knife out, making him groan and place his hand over his shoulder. Sam stared at you two, his breaths coming out in pants, frozen.

Standing over Dean, your legs wide, knife to your chest. He smirks as you take a deep breath, your plan to kill him seems to march closer than you wished.

“Stop!” Sam yells as you rush down to stab Dean in the chest. Both of you look at Sam, “Stop.” He begs.

Sam takes a moment to breathe, truly trying his best to think of a better choice than to let his brother die. Yet, Dean’s focus is to kill you. His hands wrap around your knee, pushing you back. Dean stands, his fingers running through his hair. Knowing that you would stand down for a bit, he turns to Sam, smirking as he takes a few steps towards him while Sam moves backwards.

“Dean, please just listen to me.” He pleads, “Whatever you say won’t matter when I have my fingers down your throat, ripping you from inside out.” He explains, his eyes turning black. There’ve been many words that Dean has said that placed him over the edge, but that was a new low. “This isn’t you, Dean, please just let me help you.” Sam continues, but Dean clicks his teeth, not showing a sign of care. “You talk too much.” He mutters, Sam’s back hits a tree, Dean places his forearm against his neck, pressing down against his cords, causing Sam to choke.

“Stop trying to change me.” He whispers, pressing down more, the tears swell up in his brother’s eyes as Sam begs him to listen. “I like it this way, I like the killing, the drinking. Fuck, it’s all I ever known.” And with those last words that escaped, it was more of a truth than a revelation. “I can help change th-” Dean slams his forearm against Sam’s neck, making him let out a cry. “You never were good at listening.”

And in that split moment, Dean turned into John.

Dean stares at Sam, seeing the tears that escape. Sam now pleading to just breathe, Dean doesn’t move, unable to. The flashes of Sam comes back like a sweet dream.

“I always got you, you know that right?” Dean places his hand over Sam’s shoulder, pushing the school doors open as the sun's blazes hit them. “I know.” He says all the things he needed to hear. All the things Dean wished he had heard.

Dean gasps, pulling his hand away as Sam drops to the ground, pearly salts running down Dean’s chin. Sick to his stomach, he steps back, dropping to his knees, pulling Sam close to him, rocking his body.

“Sammy.”

He cries against his brother’s shoulder, his hand over his head as he continues rocking his unconscious body. “Please, please, wake up. Wake up, Sammy, you gott-” He chokes on his words, not believing what he just did. The utter betrayal.

You stare at Dean, placing the knife away and standing, walking over to the brothers. Dean looks up at you. “Can you save him?” He cries, you look at Sam, his eyes shut, the most peaceful you’ve seen him. “He’s not dead.” You whisper, looking at Dean. “You gotta save him.” He repeats, not looking at you but to the woods, the darkness that consumed him fully, dragging him with it and spitting him out like wasteful belongings.

“I never meant it.” He whispers to Sam.

welp…at least he’s not dead…🧍🏾‍♀️

39 notes · View notes

barnes70stark · 4 months ago

Text

MASTERLIST with my favorite fanfics

I don't have the gift of writing, but instead I admire the work of others.💗 So here I put all the works of others, oneshots and series that I love, reread time to time.

P.S.: it's still in process 😅 ... I don't have time because of university and stuff I do about uni but when I have time I add some of the works 😁

House of the dragon

Aemond Targaryen

oneshots

Deliverance by @aemondsbabe

Nightblooms by @humanpurposes

series

Blurred Lines of Loyalty, Duty, and Love by @aemonds-fire

Aegon Targaryen

oneshots

to be added ...

series

to be added ...

Daemon Targaryen

oneshots

The Rouge Prince by @hisfavegirl

Cregan Stark

oneshots

to be added ...

series

Valyrian Bride part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 by @novaursa

Game of thrones

Oberyn Martell

oneshots

My innocent snowdrop by @darkdevasofdestruction

Sandor Clegane

oneshots

She hates yellow by @darkdevasofdestruction

Ramsay Bolton

oneshots

to be added ...

Jaime Lannister

series

The golden oath / part 2 / part 3 by @novaursa

Supernatural

Dean Winchester

oneshots

On his wrist by @wendichester

Devil on my shoulder by @ultravi0lence14

Showers and steam by @milkb0nny

cuddled confessions by @wendichester

Bobby's niece by @wendichester

autumn leaves by @vmiina

Cookie monster by @lila-lou

Need some space by @em-ontv

Always by @justwhisperingfantasies

And The Heat Grows by @godmadeaterribleerror

Midnight Cravings. by @syrma-sensei

series

The Honorable Choice by @zepskies

Outlander by @zepskies

The one that got away by @justwhisperingfantasies

Girl at the rock show by @justwhisperingfantasies

Where do you end part 1 / part 2 / part 3 by @godmadeaterribleerror

High School Sweetheart by @lila-lou

Behind the story by @sleepywinchester

The smarter choice by @lila-lou

Celebrities

Jensen Ackles

oneshots

Thirst tweets by @alloftheimaginess

The Director by @winchesterwild78

series

Behind The Story by @sleepywinchester

Age gap crush part 1 / part 2 by @lila-lou

Rise and shine, darling by @lila-lou (sorry I reached the max tagging and can't tag you 🥲🙃)

Jared Padalecki

oneshots

Burning Fan Questions by @alloftheimaginess

Drew Starkey

oneshots

surprise! by @simpforboys

drew starkey x actress!reader masterlist by @crushpunky

Ben Barnes

oneshots

to be added ...

Sebastian Stan

oneshots

The prettiest girl by @sebstanaddict

Austin Butler

oneshots

Anchor by @ihavesimpedovermanyfictionalmen

Pedro Pascal

oneshots

The alchemy by @babsworlds

The Things I Would Do, Just To Be Here With You by @theetherealbloom

You Got Me So In Love, I've Never Been This Possessive by @theetherealbloom

Whole Package, Babe, I Like The Way You Fit by @theetherealbloom

series

Call it what you want by @dilf-docs

Ewan Mitchell

oneshots

Secret lovers by @dedicatednotobsessed

MARVEL

James Bucky Barnes

series

In her corner by @aquaticmercy

I'll Be Okay by @navybrat817

Smitten by @aquaticmercy

Shadow and bone

Alexander Morozova

oneshots

Secret affairs by @kasagia

series

I love you... I am sorry part 1 / part 2 / part 3 by @kasagia

Harry Potter

James Potter

oneshots

to be added ...

Sirius Black

oneshots

to be added ...

Remus Lupin

oneshots

to be added ...

Dune

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen

THROWN TO THE WOLVES by @sansaorgana

Right hand part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / epilogue by @kasagia

Others

Soldier Boy

oneshots

Different by @lila-lou

Queen

series

Somebody To Love by @sunnyie-eve

Stu Machet

oneshots

How to Please You by @stumacherspillowprincess

57 notes · View notes

zepskies · 9 months ago

Text

Lost on You - Part 1

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader

Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.

AN: Welcome to Part 1! You guys have really warmed by heart with all the anticipation for this series, so thank you so much. I think it's going to be a fun ride. 😉

Song Inspo: “Magic” by Olivia Newton-John. And check out the full “Lost on You Playlist” here. There’s going to be lots of ‘80s music in this series!

Word Count: 4K

Tags/Warnings: SB being an entitled asshole (strap in for a lot of that), misogyny, bullying, and a “meet cute” of sorts…

🎙️ Series Masterlist || YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist

Part 1: Siren Song

April 3, 1983

“Why the fuck wasn’t I consulted about this?” Soldier Boy groused.

Arthur Cohen, otherwise known as “The Legend,” released a heavy puff of his cigar within the relative privacy of his office. Vought afforded him a great deal of luxuries, at the cost of days like this.

So, he’d offered the supe one of his most coveted Cubans to pacify him. Because true to form, he was edging closer to a temper tantrum by the minute.

“This decision came from on high, my friend,” Arthur said, with a smile that hid his inner anxiousness. He tapped some ash off his cigar with a finger adorned by a gaudy gold ring. “Stan Edgar, Stillwell, even the entire board of directors signed off on this one.”

“I don’t give a fuck who bought into this PR bullshit,” Soldier Boy postured, crossing his arms across his dark green supe suit as he leaned into the plush seat adjacent to Arthur’s desk. He raised a solid boot on the edge of the newly polished mahogany, and then another, crossing them at the ankles. His cigar was balanced between his teeth in the corner of his mouth.

“The last thing we need,” he said, pausing to inhale. Then he took the cigar from his lips to blow out smoke in hot annoyance. “Is another broad on the team.”

Arthur inclined his head. “I understand your concerns.”

“Do you?” Soldier Boy snorted. “Countess is bitch enough to deal with, believe you me.”

Arthur sympathized. He knew Crimson Countess’s attitude well, but he supposed Soldier Boy had license to say so more than anyone else, considering she was his girlfriend.

“Look, I could give you the numbers: expected profit margins, demographics, etcetera, but you don’t get paid to hear that from me,” Arthur said, with a magnanimous hand gesture and a fair bit of old Jewish charm. “I’m askin’ you to trust me. This girl’s good, okay? Not just a wig and a pair a’ tits. Nah, she’s got talent. Got a set of pipes on her too, my God.”

Soldier Boy gave him a sly look.

“Not like that,” Arthur said. He shook his head in amusement, but not with the face of a man who hadn’t already thought about the girl’s pretty mouth. He stroked his chin.

“She’s…interesting. Well, you’ll see. If she brings up the ratings the way we hope, we’ll be able to relocate Swatto. Hopefully to Siberia. He’s a fucking PR nightmare waiting to happen.”

“All right, the guy’s a moron, but he’s fucking hilarious,” Soldier Boy said, smirking. “Like one of the three Stooges.”

Yeah. Arthur wondered if that homeless man Swatto almost split open in Central Park after a sneeze thought he was funny.

“And her powers. Really?” Soldier Boy went on. His brows drew together then, as he frowned. “Sounds like she blew something up someone’s ass to get this far, and it ain’t smoke.”

“Trust me, that’s the real deal too,” Arthur assured.

But he could see that Soldier Boy wasn’t convinced. The supe rolled his eyes and released another puff.

“Anyway. I’m fucking bored. What’s the next project?” he said. Arthur took an unfiltered breath and peeked at the files strewn across his desk.

“Well, Red Thunder is coming out this fall. We’re pretty sure it’s gonna be the blockbuster of the year,” he replied. “After that, we’ll see about writing a sequel.”

If it makes back the millions we spent in production going over budget, thanks to this asshole’s weekly benders, he mentally added.

“I don’t care about a bullshit sequel,” Soldier Boy said dismissively. “I want to do something new.”

“Something new,” Arthur intoned.

The supe raised a brow. Again, the cigar was balanced between his teeth.

“Yeah.”

He really must be bored, Arthur thought, if he actually wants to work.

“All right, let me brainstorm on that for ya,” Arthur said. “Matter of fact, tell you what. Give me ‘til the end of the week. In the meantime, we’ve got the security team monitoring the police scanner for potential saves.”

The supe didn’t look impressed. His brows furrowed, as if he was irritated that he didn’t get an immediate answer, but his slight nod signaled his agreement before he finally got up from his chair. His boots dragged off Arthur’s desk, knocking over a framed picture of his kids with it, and thudded heavily on the ground. He left the office thereafter.

Arthur heaved a breath of exasperation. He didn’t get paid enough for this shit.

Fucking supes.

But he didn’t dare utter that thought out loud.

It was days before Ben finally crossed paths with the new girl. Not that he’d been giving the idea much thought.

After that day in Arthur’s office, Ben became engrossed in his own devices—namely one of the assistants, Joanna, his stylist, Angela, and Rachel, his maid, after Donna blew him off for dinner for the third night in a row. This time for some tree-hugging conservationist gala of some kind.

Frigid bitch, he thought, shaking his head.

On his way to the gym, he passed the T&T Twins gossiping. Just the sight of them irritated him. Tommy was a kiss-ass, and Tessa shared a brain cell with her brother, so she wasn’t saying much for her gender either.

“Would you pick your tongue off the floor already! You’re so disgusting,” Tessa said, shoving her brother.

“What? She’s fucking hot,” Tommy snapped in defense. When they finally saw Ben coming, Tessa piped down with her attempt at a “demure” greeting.

Tommy came in hot with a too bright voice and a, “Hey, boss!”

Ben gave them a stoic nod, fully intending to blow past them.

“Have you met the new girl yet?” Tommy asked, with an unmistakable pop of his brows and indecent smile.

Ben nearly rolled his eyes. “No.”

And don’t fucking care, his tone conveyed. He continued on his way to the gym. Behind him, the twins gave each other a look, and a shrug.

When he got to the gym, Journey was playing overhead. Ben frowned as he saw Black Noir working out by himself. The young man wasn’t wearing his suit. Instead, he was bare-chested and running on a treadmill with a nearly 90-degree incline, sweat glistening on his skin.

Fucking show off, Ben thought.

Then there was Gunpowder, his young sidekick, practicing his archery. Ben went to him and slapped a hand on his back in greeting, none too gently. The teen stumbled, his arrow landing into the wall instead of the target.

“Spot me at the bench, ey kid,” said Ben. “And grab me a towel while you’re at it.”

“Uh, sure,” Gunpowder replied, ducking his head as he went. Ben got settled at his usual bench press machine, sliding his back down the thin leather cushion. He waited for the kid to add on his fifty-pound weights on either side, until it reached two hundred pounds. That was just the warm-up.

“You met the new girl yet?” Ben asked, after he began lifting his first rep. Gunpowder stood behind his head.

“No, sir,” he said. “Haven’t seen her yet.”

“I haven’t either,” said Noir. He’d come over on his way to the showers, regaining his breath all the while. Ben gave him a sharp side-eye.

“Did I fucking ask you?” he said.

Noir paused. He hid his frown behind a stoic front, since he didn’t have his mask to do it for him. He toweled off his face and chest as he left the gym.

Ben shook his head, but he never broke stride on the bench press.

You seemed to be mysterious.

Barely anyone had seen you, and you hadn’t gone out of your way to ingratiate yourself with every member of the team, like Ben would’ve expected. Donna had set him in her sights on her very first day.

With fake demure in her hazel eyes, a flick of her long red hair over her shoulder, and a sultry smile, she’d let him take her hand and bring it up to his lips for a gentlemanly kiss.

That same night, she’d accepted his invitation up to his suite and let him do some very ungentlemanly things. Ben smirked at the memory as he made his way down Vought Tower’s infinite hallways. She sure knew her way around some kinky shit.

And she still did, the little minx. She’d just been putting the freeze on his balls lately, for whatever her reasons were this time. He didn’t pretend to care or keep track at this point.

If people only knew what a royal pain Crimson Countess was.

Ben was only taken out of his thoughts when he heard someone singing in the breakroom, gently, but beautifully. He couldn’t make out the words though. He stopped and leaned inside the doorway, just to see who it was. It was early enough in the morning that he was surprised anyone but him was awake.

You were standing there at the counter, making some coffee from the percolator. Soft and dulcet notes fell from your lips in some kind of lullaby. Quirking a brow, the oddness of it managed to draw Ben’s steps into the kitchen. You were wearing a leather supe suit that molded to your every curve, not unlike Donna’s, except yours was black with violet trim lines.

You eventually noticed him with a smile.

“Good morning, sir.”

Ben gave you a charming grin, blatantly eying you from breast to toe before he noted that the coffee had finished percolating.

"Hey there, sweetheart,” he said. “Pour me a cup, would ya?"

You did so, and he admired the graceful movements of your hands, and the sweet sound of your voice as you continue to hum to yourself.

"You're a little crooner, aren't you?" he asked, taking the plain white coffee mug from you.

When your hand brushed his, he felt it.

Your power.

It threatened to overtake him, drawing you into him like the crash and current of a tidal wave, where he couldn’t help but be pulled undertow. There in that darkness, he craved your warmth as well as your body. The thought, the need gripped him at his core…

He wanted you to devour him, body and soul.

And he finally registered that your eyes were glowing violet, along with your knowing smile.

Then you blinked. The violet haze was gone, along with your hold on his mind.

You went back to sipping your coffee as if nothing had just happened. Ben faltered, mentally and physically as he was forced to grip the counter. He even had to catch his breath as his mind reeled from the loss of connection.

He covered his unbalance with a steely, angry frown. What the fuck just fucking happened?

He looked at you harder than before, drawing himself to his full height and towering over you. Still, you didn’t seem all that intimidated.

“What the hell did you just do?” he growled.

Your knowing, easy smile remained.

“Nothing,” you replied. “Just a little smoke.”

Ben’s eyes widened.

“Sounds like she blew something up someone’s ass to get this far, and it ain’t smoke.”

How the hell had you heard about that?

He quirked a brow, but you just sipped your coffee with a gentle slurp. Your gaze moved away from him as you went to the fridge to take out a carton of eggs.

“Want some breakfast? I’m thinking of making some eggs, sunny side up,” you said.

Ben’s hand clenched at his side, but then, he forced himself to relax. Or at least, to look relaxed. You had some fucking audacity to try toying with him…but he had to admit, you were something new.

Interesting.

“What’s your name?” he asked, in a tone that demanded.

“Sirena,” you answered. Your superhero name, which he’d already known when Stan Edgar told him about you a week ago.

Ben’s frown deepened, but he reminded himself to retain some charm. He took your chin between his fingers. His grip was light, but his green eyes were intense, and focused on you.

“No. Your real name, sweetheart,” he said, brushing your cheek with his thumb.

You blinked, but you obliged him with your name, and a smile that edged at flirtation.

“What’s yours?” you returned.

He had to smirk. He knew you knew full well who he was.

“Call me Ben,” he said.

Three Days Ago…

You tried not to be completely overwhelmed by the sight of this huge tower as you pulled your suitcase behind you. Vought-American was an institution of superhero production, and Payback was the face of it all. The absolute pinnacle.

I still can’t believe they chose me, you thought, but you tried not to let that show. You needed to make it seem like you knew what you were doing. You belonged here, and you were seizing this chance.

Madelyn Stillwell, the head of Superhero Public Relations, personally greeted you at the gate and showed you up to your room. However, you’d barely gotten a chance to step inside and look around before her pager went off. She wore a certain smile when she saw the number on the screen. She tossed a strand of strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder and glanced up at you.

“Sorry, sweetie. I have an appointment to get to, but the directory is there on your desk if you need anything. Feel free to get comfortable,” she said, gesturing at you with her pager in hand. “I’ll be back in an hour or so to give you a tour of the building.”

“Okay, thank you so—”

The door closed behind her before you could even finish your sentence. That deflated you a little, but you tried not to let that small exchange bring you down. Your apartment was huge. Or at least, it was much bigger than the shoebox you left in the Village, let alone the Brooklyn brownstone you grew up in, sharing with two other families on each floor.

You hefted your suitcase onto the bed and began to unpack your clothes, makeup, and toiletries.

You also took out the only framed picture you had—one that housed your parents and your older brother Chris. You were both grown already, but in this picture, you were barely twelve years old. That little girl didn’t know that her entire world was about to change, when her powers manifested for the first time.

That thought did succeed in dimming your mood for a moment, but you sighed and set the frame down on your new dresser. You’d have to remember to call Chris. His son was turning four years old in a few weeks.

Though your attention shifted to a black shape in the corner of your eye. It was a garment bag hanging on the closet door. You went over and unzipped it, revealing your new super suit. It was all black leather and violet accent lines down the sides, along the collar, and down between the breasts in a V-shape. It was strategic to accentuate curves and bust.

You whistled lowly. It was beautiful, but Jesus did it look tight.

“Wow,” you remarked, trying out the zipper up and down. “They really like their leather, huh?”

Still, you itched to try it on. After a few minutes of struggling and wiggling, you managed to get into the suit. They’d taken exact measurements, so it did look good. You felt like a new person…a superhero.

You smiled at yourself in the bathroom mirror. But then, you forced the smile off your face and shook your head, schooling your expression into something less doe-eyed and pathetic. More in control.

There you are, Sirena, you thought. You had long ago trained yourself with that enigmatic look. You knew how it felt on your face. The easiest way for you to get what you wanted in this world, the way you’d gotten this far, was with this exact face.

Only show them what you want them to see.

Almost two hours later, you’d finished unpacking your belongings and explored every corner of your new beautiful apartment, but still, Miss Stillwell wasn’t back yet.

You checked your watch and hummed to yourself. Your curiosity getting the best of you, you decided to leave your apartment and explore the tower by yourself. You took off the suit as well, so you could make your way around more anonymously. You were sure no one really knew who you were yet.

Your theory was proven true when you walked through the halls, passing Vought employees without even a blink in your direction. That was okay though. Soon enough, all these people would know your face, as well as your name.

You reached one of the top floors, where you thought you remembered The Legend’s office was supposed to be (according to the directory). Maybe you could meet him and get a jump start on your schedule.

You stopped short, however, when an office door slid open. Out came a slightly disheveled Miss Stillwell. Her blouse was hastily tucked into her gray pencil skirt, and strands of her blonde hair were a bit frizzy as they brushed her shoulders, as if she’d combed them down with her fingers. You plastered yourself to a wall around the corner, only peeking around after she passed by.

Your brows popped up incredulously when you read the name plate beside the door she just came out of.

Stan Edgar…holy shit. His signature was on my contract!

Along with Arthur Cohen, or The Legend, as Stillwell had told you when she welcomed you in. He was the Senior Vice President of Hero Management, so who the hell was Stan?

Well, whoever he was, he was giving it to the head of PR.

Okay then. You shook your head and continued on your way. At the end of the hall, you finally found the right office. You were about to open the door, when you heard male voices coming from inside—one older and dry, and the other deep and strong.

You reached out with your awareness and allowed your powers to engage, likely making your eyes glow with a violet hue.

Sure enough, you sensed two men in the room. And as the voices raised, you recognized one of them. It was unmistakable; you’d been taking the time to binge all of his movies for the past month, ever since you auditioned to get into Payback.

Soldier Boy.

A smile spread across your face. For a moment, you were incredibly excited…until you actually heard what he was saying.

“The last thing we need is another broad on the team.”

Your mouth fell open in shock as your brows drew together. You carefully pressed yourself to the door and kept listening.

“And her powers. Really?” he said. “Sounds like she blew something up someone’s ass to get this far, and it ain’t smoke.”

“Trust me, that’s the real deal too,” Arthur assured.

You glared at the door furiously, as if you could burn lasers out of your eyes. You crossed your arms, but you breathed evenly as you strived to keep your emotions contained.

Control, you reminded yourself. With another deep breath, you managed to let go of your ire, but the more you listened to the conversation, the more impossible that became. You turned away from the door and made clipped strides down the hall.

You knew you had to tread carefully here. You’d heard some of the real stories about Payback, because you’d taken the time to listen. You weren’t about to enter Vought Tower without having some idea of what you were getting into, and you knew you’d have to prove yourself as the rookie on the team. You just hadn’t expected their leader to be such a chauvinistic asshole.

Though inwardly, you snorted. Well, the guy is from the ‘40s. Best generation, indeed.

You rolled your shoulders and shook it away, like water off your proverbial feathers. Your mouth set in a firm line as you held your head high.

The game begins, you thought.

For the next few days, you watched. You studied each member of your new “team” as you encountered them, and you quickly realized that this team wasn’t much of one.

They looked out for themselves, and bickered amongst themselves, in the case of the TNT Twins. Crimson Countess had given you a lovely, polite face that still somehow mocked you when she walked away, along with the bounce of her red hair.

Your powers didn’t allow you to sense or read women, but you recognized a diva when you saw one.

Clearly, she was used to being the woman on top, especially as Soldier Boy’s girlfriend. You wanted to roll your eyes at the thought. From what you’d heard (and the masculine cologne you smelled on Arthur’s assistant Joanna yesterday), Soldier Boy got around. His relationship with Countess was either very open, or it was well-crafted PR.

You had another growing, unsettling thought. The more information you gathered just by observing the team, the more you had a hard time believing that you were ever going to fit in around here.

It was only your third day in the Tower though, you reminded yourself, as you got dressed for the day in your suit. That kind of negativity wouldn’t serve you here.

So you left your apartment in search of coffee and breakfast at the breakroom and lounge area, exclusive to the team. You supposed these guys were either late sleepers, or they got their food brought to them. You were relieved to find the room empty, and you let out a deep breath.

Remember why you’re here, you thought. It’s not about you.

It had never been about you.

You rummaged through the cupboards in search of the one thing that would perk you up—good coffee. You found it near the top shelf and began to prep the coffee maker. You hummed to yourself while your hands moved on autopilot. The tune strengthened, deepening and then sweetening on higher trills.

Suddenly, your spine prickled. Your mind buzzed faintly with awareness as you sensed a presence.

It was familiar and overwhelmingly male, with heavy, confident steps coming down the hall. You tilted your head and frowned.

Soldier Boy, that asshole.

But then, your lips curved upwards. This could be fun.

When Soldier Boy walked into the breakroom, he noticed you. You pretended not to realize he was there, but you felt the heat of his gaze roaming over your body. You wanted to sigh. Predictable.

Right then, you made a quiet, firm decision. Today, this man was going to learn your name. And he wasn’t going to forget it.

You turned to him with a smile when he approached—the most pleasant one you could manage.

“Good morning, sir.”

AN: Game, set, match. 😘💚 As many of you know, this story is expanding on this Soldier Boy imagine, which I wrote almost a year ago now. In the back of my mind though, I always thought this idea could be more someday.

So please let me know what you thought of Part 1! I'm so excited for you guys to see what's coming up next...

Next Time:

“Countess, I’m not trying to replace you. I’m not trying to take anything from you.”

“Except my boyfriend,” she shot back. Finally she turned her head towards you with cool disdain. “You think I didn’t see you flirting with him last night at the afterparty?”

You rolled your eyes, though you hid a sliver of embarrassment. You should’ve known she’d spot that.

“He approached me, okay?” you said. Maybe you were about to let your pettiness to get the best of you, but you couldn’t help it. You smiled slyly. “And from what I hear, I’m the least of your worries. Looks like Ben has quite the appetite.”

The cracks of Countess’s cool façade finally broke through to anger.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 2

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Series Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Soldier Boy Tag List:

This tag list is closed. If you would like to follow along as I post each chapter, please follow my side blog @zepskieswrites with notifications on so you don't miss out. 💚

@spnwoman @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @adoringanakin @rizlowwritessortof @chernayawidow

@midnightmadwoman @deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78

@deansbbyx @sarahgracej @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @jacklesbrainworms

@foxyjwls007 @iamsapphine @roseblue373 @lacilou @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@waynes-multiverse @my-stories-vault @syrma-sensei @alwaystiredandconfused @globetrotter28

@mrsjenniferwinchester @charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @k-slla @deanbrainrotwritings

@jackles010378 @deans-daydream @deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @just-levyy

@leigh70 @kmc1989 @ghostslillady @siampie @jessjad

@beautyvaliant @mimaria420 @kaleldobrev @pieandmonsters @twinkleinadiamondsky

@stoneyggirl2 @sl33pylilbunny @spnfamily-j2 @mostlymarvelgirl @artemys-ackles

617 notes · View notes

averagedenjienjoyer0290 · 8 months ago

Text

To all writers I BEG. And I mean I BEG. That you guys do more Soldierboy/Jensen Ackles x Blackreader

I know he has the racist allegations but I don’t think he’s racist I think he’s a “ I hate everybody equally” kinda guy 😓 plus he woulda did MM very wrong even if butcher told him not to if he was. My king isn’t on that stormfront timing

Guys please I need to read about him being deep in my guts and pulling on my locs

#the boys #jensen ackles #jensen ackles smut #soldier boy x black!reader #black reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy smut #the boys x you #the boys smut #jensen fucking ackles #billy butcher #mothers milk #i need him so bad #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x you #black women #faniction

62 notes · View notes

zepskies · 8 months ago

Text

Lost on You - Part 2

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader

AN: As you can see, I switched up the posting schedule slightly (check out the series masterlist for new "coming soon" dates). Thank you, guys so much for all the responses on Part 1! I hope you have just as much fun with Part 2. 😉

Word Count: 5.9K

Tags/Warnings: "Lies, lies, lies, yeah." ‘80s references, a new mission (and violence), cattiness, and some more cat and mouse tension.

🎙️ Series Masterlist || YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist

Part 2: Foolish Game

“You know, we really are a family here. The whole Payback team,” Crimson Countess said.

Her voice was filled with earnestness as she held the microphone to her ruby red lips with both gloved hands. She smiled and reached out a hand to you.

“But it’s truly my pleasure to welcome Sirena into the fold. It’s about time we got another badass chick on the team, am I right?”

She knew how to play up the packed crowd in the auditorium. They roused with cheers and clapping, and you stepped closer to her in the spotlight.

It wasn’t entirely an act when you gave them (and several cameras) a somewhat shy smile. You’d been on stages almost all your life, but never one like this. You knew you were being seen by the entire country right now.

On Countess’s other side was Soldier Boy and the TNT Twins, while on your side stood Black Noir, Swatto, and Mindstorm keeping himself in the back. Off at the far left of the stage were Arthur and Madelyn Stillwell, both seemingly patient and professional.

“And you look great, hun. I love the new suit,” Countess said, gesturing at you with a playful air.

You smiled a little more and affected some humility. You tried not to adjust the black mask sitting on the bridge of your nose. It felt like a pair of pool goggles.

“Well, a little leather goes a long way,” you joked into your own mic. It earned some laughs from the sea of flashing lights amidst darkness.

Countess laughed, a sultry sound. “I know that’s right.”

“I’m really just so grateful to be here on this incredible stage with you all,” you said, casting a hand at the rest of the team. “I’m just a girl from a dusty little town in Indiana. Seriously. Imagine Smallville, Kansas, but more tumbleweeds.”

Cue more indulgent laughter. The lie was well-rehearsed on your tongue, along with this next bit, as you looked into the closest camera.

“But if you all see some small greatness in me, then I’m honored and ready to serve,” you finished.

Enthusiastic applause met the end of your little speech. You smiled and lowered the mic. Countess nodded in agreement and offered her mic to Soldier Boy next. He stepped up to the center podium and leaned on it like he was John Wayne.

“Well, it’s a good day when another hero joins our ranks. I have a feeling that Sirena,” he paused, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, “Is gonna be a good fit.”

You didn’t like that smile on his face, but instead of letting that show on yours, you gave him a grateful smile. He had the gall to wink at you. Then he handed the mic back to Arthur and stepped back from the podium.

“All right, one more time, you guys. Let’s hear it for Sirena!” Arthur said to the crowd, and they erupted. You accepted the praise with a demure smile and a congenial wave, like you were Princess Diana or something.

The rest of your team gave perfunctory claps as well, but Soldier Boy was the first to head off stage. Countess and the rest of them followed suit, so you did as well. She and Soldier Boy didn’t even share a glance when she stopped off into the women’s restroom. An idea struck you, and you decided to join her.

“Hey, Countess,” you began to say, but she let out a humorless huff.

“What, are you going to follow me into the fucking stall?” she said dryly.

You were momentarily taken aback by her acidity. You blinked, and she turned to give you a bored look.

“I…just wanted to say that I really look up to you,” you said.

“Do you?” she asked, with a slightly mocking smile. Her gaze briefly ran down your form. “Is that why your suit looks like a Dollar Store knockoff of mine?”

Ah…okay, you thought. You saw what this bitch was about. She’d supported you in the public eye, but she didn’t actually want another woman on the team. She’d been a powerhouse for over a decade, and not just her years at Vought.

But for every icon, there’s the threat of becoming an old has-been, you thought.

“Well, you’ve got a point there. I asked for a cape too, but they thought it was a bit too…retro,” you remarked, hinting at a smile as you gestured at her suit, and the long red cape that draped down her back. “But really, I’m a big fan. I actually grew up watching you when I was a kid. I remember that little documentary you did with Vought Geographic. The one with the baby chimps? So cute.”

Countess’s brow twitched, ever so slightly. Both her fake smile and yours remained the same.

She broke first with a roll of her eyes.

“Just stay out of my way,” she said. Her cape brushed your arm as she breezed past you. Your smile remained until she was out of the room. Then you took a deep breath.

Be careful, you reminded yourself. You had to prove that you wouldn’t easily bend to whatever bullshit might get thrown at you, but you were still the rookie here. You had a feeling that this was just the first test of many.

You kept your guard up, even at the afterparty hosted at a nearby hotel. Tessa followed Countess’s lead and gave you fake smiles when you passed by her. Otherwise, she ignored you. Mindstorm was the only one who seemed truly indifferent towards you. (You barely ever saw him out of his room anyway.)

You couldn’t much tell with Black Noir. He’d never taken his helmet off in the few days since you’d met him, but you sensed nothing but vague interest from him. The other three men were more obvious in the way they looked at you.

In fact, you could’ve predicted the way Soldier Boy found you in a slightly quieter corner of the banquet hall. His gait was relaxed and arrogant as he made his way towards you.

He annoyed you on sight, no matter how damn attractive he was. All broad shouldered and brown hair coiffed, his face mostly clean shaven, save for some stubble. With his military green supe suit, the silver decal of an eagle stretched across his broad chest—he certainly looked the part of America’s first hero. Too bad he was also a chauvinistic ass.

But you also had a plan. It had started to form after that first encounter with him in the break room.

You kept your true thoughts off your face as you turned to greet him. He was holding his fifth tumbler of whiskey, and he smelled like it too. You sipped at a glass of red wine.

“Small town girl, huh?” he said, smiling with old-world charm. “I happen to be a city boy.”

“Born and raised in South Detroit?” you teased. “I didn’t take you for a Journey fan.”

“The mean streets of Philly, actually,” he said, with a tip of his imaginary hat. “I may be a Sinatra kind of guy, but I don’t mind a little rock ‘n roll.”

You inclined your head. “Same here. Not that my parents approved. Growing up, I had to hide my Rolling Stones records under the bed.”

That much was true.

“Ah, a little rebel,” he remarked. His gaze roamed down your form, and back up to your eyes, shaded by smokey makeup. “Who knew they made ‘em like you in Indiana.”

Your lips curved. “It’s not just cows and cornfields.”

“Evidently,” he said, taking a swig of his whiskey. “How do you like the big city so far?”

“To be honest, I haven’t had a chance to see much of it yet. This whole thing has been a whirlwind,” you said.

Lie.

The truth was, you were born and raised in Brooklyn. Maybe you had never lived in Manhattan before, but you were no stranger to the city.

Ben not only ate up the lie; he took the bait.

“Maybe I’ll give you a tour of the city one day,” he said. He thumbed at your chin once again with half-gloved fingers.

You tipped your face up to him, and you smiled.

“I’d like that.”

Your first mission with Payback was not at all what you expected.

To start with, you’d expected to do some patrolling, run down some leads, do some investigating. Instead, they had a Surveillance & Security team to do all of that for the team. Plus, they were patched in via the local police scanner of any new crimes in progress.

Arthur had paged you to come to his office. There he told you that you’d actually be going for your first save today. You were excited, until he told you that you’d be on a “team up” with Crimson Countess.

Great, you thought.

She didn’t look happy about it either, when you met her in the lobby downstairs. She gave you another frigid look before she swiftly exited the double doors.

Stay out of my way. You got the message loud and clear.

A black SUV took you two to the Lower West Side, where there was a robbery in progress. The front window of the jewelry story had been shattered, and tens of thousands of dollars in merchandise stolen by two masked men according to the store clerk. He’d been shot in the shoulder before the men took off. The police had yet to find them.

The most unnerving part of this was the cameras that followed you and Countess while you canvassed the area—like catching criminals was some kind of reality show.

“I think I can feel them,” you said, with your fingers on your temples. “They’re headed south through the alley.”

“Which alley?” she asked, waving a hand at the several blocks ahead of you. “And what do you mean you can feel them?”

You shot her a look, endeavoring not to be snarky. “I can sense them.”

Let’s just say, your powers were particularly potent when it came to men. That’s what allowed you to feel the robbers’ energies, set high with adrenaline. They were close.

You pointed the way, and Countess begrudgingly went along with it.

“Follow my lead though,” she said.

You agreed in the moment, but you were filled with maybe too much anticipation and excitement yourself when you turned the corner into the alley without waiting for your companion.

You found yourself staring down the barrel of a gun.

You froze, your breath stilling in your lungs. The safety clicked, and the man holding the weapon quirked his head.

“Haven’t seen you before,” he drawled.

“But you know me. Don’t you, handsome?”

Countess’s fist landed squarely across the man’s jaw. He yelped as the weapon clattered out of his hand. You jumped back as the gun fired, ricochetting off the brick wall. Countess rolled her eyes and tossed a fireball at the next man, who jumped out of his hiding place behind the dumpster. He screamed and dove to the side.

She didn’t wait for him to recover. Grabbing him by the collar with a gloved hand, she threw one hard punch that broke the man’s jaw. You winced at the telltale cracking sound. The other man just held his hands up in surrender, wide-eyed and afraid. You felt his fear radiating off of him. With another swift punch, she knocked him out as well.

You could only stand there with your mouth open in surprise. You managed to close it when Countess turned your way.

“I told you to follow my damn lead,” she said coolly.

The police filtered in shortly after, as did the camera crew. The director sighed at Countess.

“This was supposed to be Sirena’s first save,” he said. Countess turned to him with a sharp look.

“Train her fucking better then,” she snapped.

You chewed the inside of your lip, but you fought not to outwardly show your embarrassment. Why’d they have to partner you with her, for fuck’s sake?

The car ride back to the Tower was just as tense and silent. At least there was a black partition between you two in the backseat and the driver.

Finally, you sighed and tried to offer an olive branch.

“Look, I’m sorry. I just got a bit excited,” you said.

“You almost got yourself killed,” she drawled, not even looking at you as she gazed boredly out the window. “Even that would’ve been a challenge for the PR team.”

Your lips pursed in irritation. Oh, my God. Is she that insecure?

“Countess, I think we got off on the wrong foot. I’m not trying to replace you. I’m not trying to take anything from you.”

“Except my boyfriend,” she shot back. Finally she turned her head towards you with cool disdain. “You think I didn’t see you flirting with him last night at the afterparty?”

You rolled your eyes, though you hid a sliver of embarrassment. You should’ve known she’d spot that.

The cracks of Countess’s cool façade finally broke through to anger. She glared at you tightly.

“He may have his little toys, but they never last long,” she said pointedly. “The only reason he’s giving you the time of day is because you’re new, and shiny, and full of silicon.”

“And young,” you added with a wink. “Don’t forget young.”

She seethed, and you were almost concerned that she might toss a fireball your way. Mercifully, the car rolled to a stop in the back entrance to the Tower to make it easier to navigate past any paparazzi. You slid out on your side, and you didn’t bother waiting for Countess when you went back inside the Tower.

All the way back up the elevator to your floor, you thought about the way you’d frozen at the sight of the man’s gun. You did have proper combat training. Your dad had paid for the lessons.

“You’re gonna pay us back one day,” as he’d said. “We’re investing in our future, just as much as yours.”

You shook your head and sighed. You should have grabbed the robber’s arm and reached for any flash of skin you could touch to compel him into submission.

The thought continued to unsettle you as you went into the breakroom first for something to eat. You ended up making yourself a sandwich and sat down at the nearby dining table with an unsweetened tea. Swatto happened to fly in for a coke and an old slice of pizza. When he noticed you, his insect-like wings folded back into his back after he landed on the ground.

Out of everyone, his suit looked the most cumbersome with the big shoulder armor and the condom-like mask over half his face. You understood why he wasn’t wearing it now. He was dressed down in an old Ramones shirt and a pair of jeans. He ran his fingers through his short hair and slid into the chair closest to you.

“Hey. How’s it going, beautiful?” he asked, with what was likely meant to be a charming smile.

You were close enough to sense his salacious thoughts. You restrained a sigh. Ordinarily you’d entertain him a bit more, but frankly, he was making a bad day worse and you weren’t in the mood.

So you smiled. While your hand slid over his on the table, you leaned in close to his ear.

“Shoo, fly,” you said. Your words held power as your eyes glowed violet.

Immediately, you felt the way Swatto’s body sat up straighter. With a blankness falling over his face, he got up from the table and left the way he came, forgetting his snacks on the table.

You shook your head and continued eating your sandwich in peace.

A few minutes later, there came an even rarer sighting—Mindstorm snuck into the breakroom next. He glanced at you with wary eyes, like a deer pausing before it took a drink from the pool. When you just stared at him in slight bewilderment, he quickly rucked through the cupboards for a bag of Bugles labeled:

MINDSTORM’S – DO NOT EAT!

As if anyone would want to steal a bag of Bugles.

Just when you opened your mouth to offer him some kind of greeting, Mindstorm quickly ducked out of the room. You blinked in confusion.

“Odd,” you said to yourself. “So very odd.”

“Right?” came a voice behind you. You screamed and nearly jumped out of your skin, but you realized it was only Black Noir, holding a beer.

“Jesus…” You held a hand over your beating heart. It wasn’t the first time he’d snuck up on you like that. Can this guy wear a bell or something?

“Don’t mind him. He’s got a few dozen screws loose,” said Noir.

Unlike the other two, he was fully suited up. However, he took his helmet off and set it on the table so he could drink. You held in a breath, as you were pleasantly surprised to see the face of a handsome black man. It was the first time you’d ever seen him unmasked.

Wonder what else he’s hiding under there, you thought. Your gaze briefly dipped down his chest and strong-looking thighs.

You both chatted over small things at first. According to Noir, Mindstorm’s apartment was completely soundproof, but it didn’t do much good for the guy, since he had a hard time keeping people’s thoughts out of his head. You thought New York City was probably a terrible place for him to live, in that case.

“And you’re smalltown, right?” Noir asked.

You offered a half-smile. “Guilty.”

“Yeah, same here,” he said, raising his beer. “From a nowhere town in Georgia.”

For the first time, you felt slightly bad for keeping up the lie. Noir seemed like a decent guy so far. You clinked your iced tea with his beer.

“Well, Nowhere, it’s nice to find a kindred spirit,” you said.

You two drank for a bit in a comfortable silence, until he turned to you with curiosity in his dark brown eyes as he took you in.

“So, what made you want to join Payback? The pay, or the free shit?” he asked.

You quirked a smile. You decided to give him the easiest answer he’d believe.

“Well, the free shit is a big perk. But…as vapid as it sounds, I wanted to get out of the background, make a name for myself,” you said. Noir nodded.

“Believe me, I get it. Around here, it can be hard to stand out,” he said. His brows knitted together while he stared hard at the table. You watched him, wondering what he meant.

After a beat, he perked up and met your gaze. “You know, I’ve been wanting to pitch a movie idea to Arthur.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, just trying to…you know, find the right words.”

Your expression eased, and you crossed your arms and turned towards him.

“Okay, let’s go then,” you said, waving at him in a bring it on gesture.

Noir’s brows popped up. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, why not?” you said. “Give me your best elevator pitch.”

Black Noir stood up from the table, nearly knocking over his empty beer bottle as he went. You grabbed it so it wouldn’t tip over. You were amused by his slightly flustered state. He set his hands on his hips and couldn’t quite meet your eyes when he started speaking.

“So, I’m thinking it could be like 48 Hours meets Trading Places. Except instead of a wise-cracking criminal or a guy down on his luck, I’m like, a wise-cracking ninja.”

“But ninjas don’t typically talk, do they?” you said. Clearly this guy had a thing for Eddie Murphy. “Aren’t they supposed to be stealthy?”

Noir raised a finger. “Okay, yes, but it’s a comedy. So that’s the ironic part, in a funny way.”

“So you’ll make witty quips before you kill your targets?” you said, holding in a laugh. You brandished an invisible sword. “‘You’re gonna need a new carpet.’ Fshh.”

You mimed a cutting motion, then blood spraying from your neck as you made some mock death throes. Noir stared at you blandly. You bit your lip.

And you were the first one to break with a laugh. The sound was infectious enough to break him too though. Noir couldn’t help but shake his head and chuckle along with you.

You were almost too distracted to hear a pair of heavy boots, and sense the male presence at the door. You turned at the flash of green in the corner of your eye.

Of course, the cast wouldn’t be complete without Soldier Boy. Or Ben, as he’d insisted you call him.

His gaze roamed the room with feigned disinterest, but you could tell when he looked over at you and Noir that he wasn’t pleased. He clung to stoicism as he approached your table with his usual gait: calm, controlled, and arrogant.

“What’s going on in here?” he asked with a raise of his brow. “Could hear you all the way down the hall.”

“Just working on a pitch for Noir’s new movie,” you said, though the man in question gave you a hard stare. One that warned you to stop talking.

“Noir’s new movie?” Ben said, with a curl of his lip. He turned to the other man. “Trying to compete with Red Thunder before it’s even out in the box office? That’s not very good form.”

“No, no. Of course not,” said Noir. “Just…throwing some ideas around.”

“Oh, yeah, I heard. Some kind of samurai bullshit,” Ben said dryly. His green-eyed gaze was sharp, however. “Why don’t you stop wasting people’s time on tragic fucking ideas, and find something actually fucking useful to do.”

You watched carefully between the two men. Was there some kind of bad blood here?

Noir’s lips pursed, but despite the spark of anger in his eyes, he kept it all inside when he lowered them. He got up from the table and left without another word, putting on his helmet as he went.

Ben shook his head and drew closer to you. You frowned up at him as you stood and crossed your arms below your breasts.

“Well, that wasn’t very kind,” you remarked.

“This is the real world, sweetheart. He still needs to learn his place on this team,” Ben replied. But then, his charm was back. His face eased into a smile. “I’m glad I found you. It’s time I made good on my promise.”

You tilted your head. “What promise?”

“To take you out,” he said. “Give you a little tour of the city.”

After that little display, you had even less interest to spend any more time with this man than absolutely necessary…

Remember the plan, you reluctantly reminded yourself.

“Come on,” he prodded, extending a hand out to you. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

Releasing a breath, you uncrossed your arms and slipped your hand into his.

“Okay. I would appreciate you showing me around,” you said, giving him a smile with some feminine charm of your own.

His lips curved into a grin. He raised your hand up to his lips, and despite yourself, his stubble ignited small tingles across your skin.

“Meet me downstairs in half an hour,” he said.

After taking the time to change out of your supe suit and into something dressier, reapplying your makeup and fixing up your hair, you met Ben downstairs out front. He was waiting for you there on a motorcycle, of all things.

“Really?” you asked, giving the vehicle a dubious look. “I thought you’d be a limo kind of guy.”

“Oh, I am. But today we need speed if we’re going to cover the whole city,” he said with a grin. He revved the engine, and it let out a loud, rumbling sound. It looked like a death trap.

“I don’t know, Ben,” you said, for the first time using his name. You were actually nervous enough to show it.

He chuckled and motioned you over. Reluctantly, you went to him. His hand smoothed down your arm and held your elbow. He peered into your eyes.

“You think I’m going to let you fall on my watch?” he said.

You held his gaze. Eventually, you bit your lower lip, and you accepted his offer of a helmet (even though he was going without one), then his helping hand to climb onto the motorcycle behind him. You tentatively held onto his waist.

“That ain’t gonna cut it, baby doll,” he said. He grabbed your hands and tugged you closer, until your arms wrapped around his middle. You made a small sound of surprise, feeling the solidness of his frame. You had a feeling he was grinning.

“All right, hold on,” he warned, revving the engine once again.

Your teeth clenched with dread. “Please, go slooow—ahhh!”

Ben peeled out of the curved landing in front of Vought Tower with a screech of tires. You gripped onto his jacket like a lifeline and pressed yourself to his back as closely as you could—something you were sure was his intention.

You sensed his amusement, though he at least had the decency not to laugh at you. He merged onto the street and zipped through the layers traffic, heading towards the center of the city.

Ben didn’t just show you the city. He showed you his world.

He first took you to Top of the Rock at Rockefeller Center. Instead of the normal group tour to the observational deck, he had a short chat with management that had them letting you two up to an even higher level, into an exclusive bar. It was apparently so high up that only twenty people could be inside at a time.

You two enjoyed a couple of drinks along with the amazing view of the city, and of Empire State across the way.

“You don’t get views like this in Indiana, do you?” Ben asked.

You nodded indulgently. “You do not.”

Never mind that you had never even been to Indiana. Yet, you had also never seen the city like this either.

“Thank you for taking me out like this,” you said. You reached out and softly touched his hand. You met his eyes with a subtle smile. “I didn’t know what to expect when I got here, but you’ve been really nice to me. Makes me think I can actually belong here.”

He seemed pleased as he sipped his drink, brushing his thumb over the back of your hand.

“What can I say? I’m a nice guy,” he said.

You smiled, affecting demure as you ducked your head. It was an act you’d long ago perfected. Men tended to underestimate you, and you always used that to your advantage.

From there, he took you to clubs you’d never even knew existed, then to a restaurant so old, it still had a dress code. (And it was the best surf and turf you’d ever had in your life.)

When you got to Times Square, however, you were delayed practically an hour by all the fans who wanted Soldier Boy’s autograph. Once the first couple of young women recognized him, even out of his suit, it was all downhill as more and more people got excited by the world’s most famous superhero.

You stood off to the side, watching him be flirtatious to women of all ages, ruffling kids’ hair, and shaking hands with men, and even veterans who thanked him for his service.

You signed a couple of autographs and took some pictures with people yourself, but you knew you wouldn’t be recognized as much. You had to be content with waiting for Ben off to the side. Though admittedly, you were getting bored and more than a little annoyed that he was taking so long.

He seemed to realize it when he finally looked your way.

“Hey, Sirena!” he called out to you by your supe name, drawing your attention in front of a few of his fans. He waved you over, and even introduced you to the small crowd still gathered around him. He set a hand on your lower back.

“I’m sure you all know about Sirena, the newest member of our team,” he said. You looked up at him with some measure of gratefulness. Maybe this part of the day was working in your favor even more than you’d thought.

You intentionally leaned closer to him, laying a semi-innocent hand on his arm as you smiled at the others.

“I’m taking some time to show her around,” he continued, glancing down at you. “She’s from a small town, so this city can be pretty daunting. But it’s my home. My favorite place in the world. Especially because I get to see all of you.”

He swept a hand out towards the crowd, and they ate it up with cheers, clapping, and some flirtatious whistling. He shot a wink and a raised finger at that one.

“If you’ll excuse us,” he said, with one last parting hand at the people. He ushered you back onto the motorcycle, and off you went.

He was trying his damndest.

He wore that fake, debonair charm like a second skin as he got you a private tour of the Met, and treated you to rich food and expensive wine. He was showing off his wealth, his fame, and giving you the “best” of him.

However, you had already seen glimpses of the true man underneath the gaudy show. And it was ugly, with an edge of darkness.

You had that thought in the back of your mind, even while you two sat side by side on a ledge. He’d brought you to a spot near the Hudson River, close to an overpass. It wasn’t an area meant for parking (according to the No Parking sign), but he didn’t seem to care.

Neither did you, really. The view was too beautiful, with the large orange sun halfway sunk below the water. It cast shades of yellow and red and purple across the sky, even over the dark waters.

Ben was working on his third hotdog. You were licking your way around a scoop of cookies and cream ice cream on a waffle cone, letting the end of it swirl off your tongue. You resisted a smile, feeling the warmth of his gaze on the side of your face.

“So tell me,” he said, after he finished off his snack. He crumpled his napkin and tossed it somewhere behind him. “I heard you were making a name for yourself as a singer. What made you want to join Payback?”

He was giving you a little too much credit. You’d been making your money by being a background singer for various artists, but your last big break going on Whitney Houston’s latest tour was what finally put you on Vought’s map.

You considered his question with a tilt of your head. Black Noir had asked you the same thing, more or less. You’d given him an easy, predictable answer. With Ben, you edged closer to the truth...or part of it, anyway.

“I don’t just want people to know who I am,” you said. “I want to be remembered for something good. I want to prove it to my family too, that I can do it. …Is that naïve?”

Ben hummed in understanding, though he shot you a certain look.

“Not if you play your cards right,” he said.

His leading tone didn’t surprise you. You slid him a smile.

“And how should I do that?” you asked. You turned to him, setting your finished cone aside. Ben took the opportunity to reach out and draw a line down your cheek with his thumb. He wiped a small smear of chocolate from the corner of your mouth.

He smirked. “By sticking close to me, baby doll.”

You had to admit, his proximity was stirring you more than you liked. He was devastatingly handsome, and he knew it too. With his face inching so close to yours, it was hard for you to remember the things this man had said about you to Arthur, how he clearly didn’t give a fuck about Countess, and even what a dick he'd been to Black Noir.

Not to mention, how he acted all the time, as if the whole world was his.

Just as his lips neared yours, you leaned back. Your eyes met his knowingly.

“You already have someone close to you,” you pointed out. “What about Countess?”

Ben stilled. He sighed, but he didn’t let go of your cheek. He traced your jawline with the sensuous promise of a practiced hand. It made your breath difficult in your lungs, rising into your throat.

“Ah, Donna,” he shook his head. “We’ve been on the rocks for a while now.”

I’m sure, you thought wryly.

“What you and I have, right here, right now,” he said, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to your cheek. “It’s special. The moment I saw you, a pure connection.”

Your brows furrowed. Those words triggered some kind of familiarity in you. A pure connection…

Wait, isn’t that a line from one of his movies? you thought. Oh yeah, A Gentleman’s Promise. 1949.

You had to bite your lip to stifle your laughter. This man did not just quote himself.

Ben took your reaction for a different kind of inner conflict, as he continued pressing tantalizing kisses down your neck. You cleared your throat a little, fighting a sigh of pleasure.

Stick to the plan, you thought.

Because he was right. The fastest way for you to get what you wanted was to be close to him, to use his status to your advantage. Timing was everything, however.

You slipped your hands between you two and pressed gently, but firm against his chest.

“Ben,” you implored.

You were grateful that he actually stopped. His lips stilled against your skin, and he pulled away with a frown.

“What?” he said.

You looked up at him through your lashes, before you leaned in, stopping just shy of his lips.

“Maybe I’ll consider your offer when there’s a real place for me by your side,” you said with a smile. Then you backed off.

You gathered yourself and stood, coyly sauntering back to the motorcycle. You’d wait for him there.

Ben turned to watch you go, unwilling to admit he was both equally aroused and irritated. His jaw clenched, then eased.

After a moment, he joined you and drove you back to the Tower in silence. All the while, he couldn’t stop thinking. About your lips, your eyes, your voice, your soft body, your smile, and worst of all, the way you’d denied him. For fuck’s sake, you’d given him an ultimatum.

He couldn’t remember the last time someone had that kind of audacity, let alone a woman. He wouldn’t let show, or even admit to himself, how much it affected him. But the same thought kept turning through his mind as the streets of New York passed by in a blur.

Just who the fuck does she think she is?

AN: 😅 Lol Ben's got his work cut out for him. Think he'll be able to figure out her game?

Next Time:

“What’s in it for me then?” he asked, crossing his arms.

You blinked your eyes wider. Really?

“I doubt whatever you’re thinking, Soldier,” you said, a little more snidely than you meant to.

Ben's cocky smile said it all.

Your lips pursed in exasperation. You hadn’t thought you would have to bargain to get him to be nice to a kid.

“Okay, I’m sorry. Clearly you’ve had a long day, so I’ll just get out of your way,” you said, raising your hands in surrender. You turned to leave.

“All right, don’t get your panties in a twist,” he said.

You paused at the door, tossing him an annoyed look over your shoulder.

His smile deepened. “I’ll do it.”

His steps were measured as he approached you. You turned back to face him, albeit warily. As he seemed to like doing, he gently grasped your chin between his fingers.

“I’ll do it for a kiss,” he said.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 3

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Series Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Soldier Boy Tag List:

If you would like to follow along as I post each chapter, please follow my side blog @zepskieswrites with notifications on so you don't miss out. 💚

@spnwoman @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @adoringanakin @rizlowwritessortof @chernayawidow

@midnightmadwoman @deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78

@deansbbyx @sarahgracej @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @jacklesbrainworms

@foxyjwls007 @iamsapphine @roseblue373 @lacilou @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@waynes-multiverse @my-stories-vault @syrma-sensei @alwaystiredandconfused @globetrotter28

@mrsjenniferwinchester @charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @k-slla @deanbrainrotwritings

@jackles010378 @deans-daydream @deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @just-levyy

@leigh70 @kmc1989 @ghostslillady @siampie @jessjad

@beautyvaliant @mimaria420 @kaleldobrev @pieandmonsters @twinkleinadiamondsky

@stoneyggirl2 @sl33pylilbunny @spnfamily-j2 @mostlymarvelgirl @artemys-ackles

385 notes · View notes

marcelllyn · 8 months ago

Text

I'm addicted to making my protagonists' romantic interests similar to the celebrities I find beautiful.

#fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #sam winchester #sam and dean #cute #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #dean winchester #ben barnes #deadpool #capitão américa #punhiser #marotos #sirius black #jensen ackles #chris evans

21 notes · View notes

averagedenjienjoyer0290 · 22 days ago

Text

I appreciate the word count most of the time but I’m not gonna lie, my attention span is cooked.

sometimes yall either gotta lie or not put it down at all. LIKE I BET ALL 250K WORDS IN THIS DRABBLE IS GREAT BUT LIKE…250K?? That’s so discouraging gang just lie to me 🥀🥀

12 notes · View notes

alternative-morenita · 2 months ago

Text

EP.3 - Fresh Blood

EP.3 - FRESH BLOOD synopsis | 1 | 2 | 3 |

If there's one thing The Spirit wasn't, it was stupid.

Since Lincoln, things have been slightly off tilter. Ruby had been perfectly fine with the trajectory of her mission, even going as far as physically making her stalking appearance known to the younger Winchester.

For the Spirit, her mind had began to focus elsewhere. While riding across the Interstate, she could hear the familiar searing of a name being written on her list. Taking a quick look, her eyebrow bone shifts with confusion.

Gordon Walker.

The golden sheet burns away, the hole displaying a series of memories which were quick to keep her interest. Flashes of the Winchester brothers dashing away from her suspect turn into close ups of the brothers slashing, punching, and aiming for the chasee.

The hole patches itself, the crisped edges seaming itself back together. The Spirit takes off, following the trail that glows before her. The flames around her flicker, lighting the night sky with manic cackle.

< Albany, New York >

"Hey, we got you," Sam reassures the sobbing girl. "Don't worry. We're gonna get you out of here."

Once he unties her, he begins to guide her out of the room, however, the kidnapped girl could barely walk. Dean then picks her up, cradling her in a fireman's hold. He goes to take a few steps forward when a metal door slides between the brothers, cutting Sam off from Dean.

"Sam!" Dean yells through the metal. The younger man calls out, "Dean," as he pounds his fists against the door.

Realizing that there was no way for them to remove the barrier, Dean simply shouts a warning. "Be careful!" He barks.

The lights on Sam's end turn off. The man pulls out his machete, his left hand swinging in front of him in order to register his surroundings through touch. Frightened, he clenches his jaw as his wide eyes bounce frantically across the dark room.

"Gordon! You got me where you want me. You might as well come out and fight!" Sam belts, shuffling as he looks from his left to his right.

Ominously, Gordon's deep voice echoes from around the Winchester. "I'm right here, Sam."

He eyes down Sam's every move, chuckling at the man's spooked actions. "What's the matter, Sammy?" He mocks.

"So this is really the way you want to do it, huh?" Sam huffs, eyebrows furrowed.

"Damn right I do," Gordon snarls in response. "You have no idea what I faced to get here. I lost everything. My life. But it's worth it, 'cause I'm finally gonna kill the most dangerous thing I ever hunted. You're not human, Sam."

The younger man chimes, "look who's talking." Gordon nods, "you're right. I'm a bloodthirsty killer."

"Don't talk about it like you don't have a choice," Sam chastises.

Gordon shakes his head, "I don't."

"Yes, you do, Gordon," Sam argues. "You didn't kill that girl." Gordon smirks, his blood tainted eyes staring holes into the Winchester.

"No, I didn't," he hums. "I did something much, much worse."

Gordon shifts across the shadows. "I got to hand it to you, Sam. You got a lot of people fooled. But see, I know the truth. I know what it's like. We're the same now, you and me. I know how it is walking around with something evil inside you."

"It's just too bad you won't do the right thing and kill yourself. I'm gonna. As soon as I'm done with you. Two last good deeds. Killing you and killing myself," he monologues.

Gordon comes to a stop, having herded Sam's back against the weak wall. He charges toward the Winchester, tackling him through the weak point. Quickly he swats away Sam's machete before standing.

Coming around the corner, Dean aims the Colt for Gordon's head only to have his arm grabbed and twisted before being tossed against the broken wall. Gordon rushes for him, clutching Dean by the collar.

He goes to sink his teeth into Dean's neck when a burning chain link wraps around his neck. The vampire chokes, eyes widening in shock at the unexpected attack. The former hunter flies backwards from the Winchesters, landing at the tip of a figure's black leather Talula boots.

As the chain unravels from his neck, the vampire jumps to his feet as a desperate effort to attack the newcomer only to come to a pause at the sight of them. His blood thirsty eyes widen as he stumbles backwards, the trembling onyx pearls reflect the bright orange flames that face.

The Spirit takes a step closer to him, her jaw jiggling and popping as if mocking the infected man. "Monster... versus... monster," she croaks.

Gordon clenches his jaw, his stubborn idiocy winning over his -- very slim -- logical thoughts. He leaps for her, hands reaching for her boney neck only to be intercepted by her own hands. The searing heat of her flames was unlike any flame he's ever felt as it eats away at his skin like some kind of living creature.

As he melts away, she rips his head off with ease, tossing the bodily piece away with a thud. The Spirit then looks over at the Winchester brothers, head tilted as her empty eyes study them.

The youngest lays in a heap, fighting for a catch of breath. The eldest, on the other hand, was clutching his neck in pain. Straightening her posture, she goes to walk back to where she came from but her body stops.

A voice... another spirit, something nags at her to stop. She turns around, returning her gaze to the brothers. With a groan, she marches over to Sam and wraps his arm over her shoulder as she helps him to his feet. She then walks over to Dean and lifts him to his feet as well.

Sam looks over at the Spirit, raising a suspicious eyebrow. "You saved us," he trails, panting. "Again. Why?"

Without hesitance, the Spirit morphs into her human form. The brothers watch with suppressed awe as the burning skeleton turns into the most beautiful woman they've ever seen. To them, this could be a possible moment to take advantage of.

To the Spirit of Vengeance this has never been moment to have happened nor has she ever thought to reveal her mundane form to anyone. She couldn't begin to think of a plausible excuse for herself and she'd hoped that they wouldn't bother to ask her a single question.

"What the hell?" Dean whispers. His wide green eyes trail her curved figure up and down, raising an eyebrow with interest. "That's... what spooky burning skeleton looks like? A hot redhead Pam Grier."

He chuckles, looking over at Sam. "Awesome." Sam side eyes his brother, eyes lit with irritation. Dean clears his throat, looking back at the Spirit. "Not awesome."

"Look," she starts with a deep sigh. "This is the best way for me to communicate and you're gonna deal with it."

Dean chuckles once again, an excited -- almost flirtatious -- smirk at hearing the supernatural creature's voice. "Oh, there are no complaints from me, babydoll. None at all."

Sam simply rolls his eyes at this point. "You saved us back in Lincoln and you saved us again, why?"

"My job is to hunt," she answers with a simple shrug. "You humans hunt anything and anyone that doesn't live life your way."

She points at her chest, "myself, on the other hand, I hunt the sinners of the world. Human, demon, vampire; you name it. All it takes is for you to spread nothing but violence and hatred in this world and your name's on my list."

"I'm not your knight in shining armor," she scoffs. "And I'm for damn sure not your guardian angel. You got in the way of my target and in order to finish the job, I had to save you."

Dean leans forward, "so, what are you then?" She purses her lips, "your guess is as good as mine, lad."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam questions. She raises her eyebrows with exasperation, "exactly what i said. I'd say I'm a demon, but many others would disagree."

With that, she walks around the duo and whistles with her fingers. Revving from around the corner, her motorcycle comes flying towards the group with a trail of flames following it. Dean's eyes widen with a childish awe as the light of hellfire reflects among the green.

He leans towards Sam and whispers, "she's awesome." Undoubtably, Sam nods along with raised eyebrows as he too eyes the motorcycle with surprise.

"When will we see you again?" Sam wonders.

She shrugs, with a nonchalant stare. "Who knows. Maybe never. But I will say this, there's a town in Massachusetts. White picket fences, closed community, and a group of katty housewives."

"If I were you two," she pauses with a teasing smirk. "I'd bring a box of gloves and a bottle of antiseptic with you."

Before either could ask her anything, she revs her engine once more before tearing down the road without another word. As the wind whips against her face, curls waving through the air, her once humored gaze falters.

She couldn't fathom the purpose behind her not only speaking with the Winchesters but letting them slip through a wall that even Lilith couldn't force her way through. She wasn't a manipulative person, unlike others.

She was a massive loner who preferred to work alone and just ride her motorcycle from dusk to dawn. She never appreciated working with any demon, regardless of rank, and evaded crossing ways with hunters to avoid questions.

She never had a sense of self and could care less about trying to investigate ancient history. She lived in peace, her life was chaotic but it was peaceful until Lilith and Azazel's obsession with freeing their creator dragged her into this mess.

If it wasn't for them and the stupid devil's gate, she wouldn't have met the Winchesters and she wouldn't have revealed herself to them. Hell, she wouldn't have even exposed her next move to them.

Something inside of her is threatening her mask and she'll be damned if a pair of human hunters thinks she's some form of an ally. She'd rather burn for another millennium than allow that shit to happen.

CHAPTERS -> 4 | 5 | 6 |

#🔫° dean winchester #☠️° the spirit's hunt #Dean Winchester x Oc #Dean Winchester x black!reader #Dean Winchester x plus-sized!reader #Dean Winchester x poc!reader #Jensen Ackles x black!reader #Jensen Ackles x plus-sized!reader #Jensen Ackles x oc #Dean Winchester fanfiction #Jensen Ackles Fanfiction #black fanfic writers #supernatural series rewrite #Jensen Ackles x reader

9 notes · View notes

makedatmoneymayne · 10 months ago

Text

✨✨Welcome to The Boys✨✨

--Y/N(I might give her a name later) is a store owner who loves what she does,BAKING. Ever since a young child she enjoyed it. Later on in her baking career, she started catering for shows like Supernatural, Dexter, and Grey's Anatomy. Now she's gotten a call from the one and only Eric Kripke to cater for the cast and crew of The Boys--

Y/N is a BLACK woman.☺️

🕺🏾MEET THE PEEPS🕺🏾

Y/N❤️

Owner of the shop

Bestie/Co-Owner of the store

Kapoia💗

Best Frenn/Co-Owner (technically)

Julaya💙

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

Lovely Day✨

You and the girls, well more like just the girls you were terrified of riding bikes on hills. They decided that it was a perfect morning to get some air and ride y'all bikes to work for the day. Julaya swerves whilst Kapoia does wheelies trying to get you to join in. "Y/N do some tricks or sumn, you lookin like you being made to do this with how hard you're grippin the handles." Kapoia yells zooming off with Julaya laughing their asses off at you. "Girl hush, you know I'm scared of riding on these hills. I see the shop right up ahead lemme speed up."

You all slowly come to a slight stop as yall see a man laying on the bench right outside your shop reading a newspaper.

As yall inch closer you notice his face immediately. "Omg heyyyy Eric!" You scream running up to him for a hug. "Hey honey!" He catches you and lifts you up. You look over his shoulder and notice Julaya and Kapoia giving you a look of confusion. "IS THAT YO NIGGA Y/N!" Julaya yells still confused. Eric dies of laughter, "No dumbass, this was the first director of a tv show I catered for. Yall know the show Supernatural?" The girls start screaming and rambling, "come on inside please you're like a legend." You just shake your head walking into the shop right after Eric.

The Shop✨

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

"So why are you here anyways E?" You ask confused by his presence. "Awww what happen to the nick name Eric pooh" Eric pouts at you "Chile that was a long time ago, things change" You say walking behind the counter already smelling the fresh coffee and pastries. "Anyway, I'm here to ask you to cater for my cast and crew again." "Oh reallyyy what's the show called?" You raised your eyebrow slightly seeing Julaya and Kapoia out your peripheral, listening in while still setting up. "Have you heard of a show called the boys?" The girls start screaming again nonstop. "Wait y'all what is it." They collectively gasp and Kapoia starts actin up. "Girl what the fuck what do you watch Virgin River or some shit?" She looks at you waiting for an answer and as you didn't answer she already knew. Julaya snickers and mumbles under her breath, "Aw hell naw". "Don't answer that, it's about these FINE ASS superheroes that are highkey corrupt." Kapoia says with heavy emphasis shoving a picture of the superheroes in question in front of your face out of their costumes.

"OH MY FUCKIN GOSH IS THAT JENSEN!?" Y/N yells loosing her mind. "Yeah I know right he got old on us, ladies still adore him though even labeled him "zaddy" ." Kapoia laughed so hard she started coughing before sayin, "I know thass right, alright I'm gonna leave my phone with you babe so I can keep baking for Eric" Eric always asks for 4 boxes of anything that's delicious. "Who's that fine ass man in the back middle" you ask. "Lemme see, oh that's Antony Starr. He's a cool guy kind of quiet , but cool." Eric says shrugging his shoulders walking out the door heading back to his car to go arrive on set. "Alright honey I got to go back to set before everyone shows up. Just bring it by 4pm." He yells walking out on his phone to warn his boys about you showing up with pastries showing pictures of you all.

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

3:00pm hits as you and the girls hop in the delivery truck getting on the road. You're blasting System of a Down - B.Y.O.B, windows rolled down. "STILL YOU FEED US LIES FROM THE TABLECLOTH" You all scream in unison. A big black Suv pulls up next to you guys at red light but you pay it no mind. Their windows are rolled down waiting to surprise you guys with the next lyrics to the song. Jensen and Jack yell in unison with you guys, "Lalalalalalalalalala Ouuuu!" You snap your neck over aggressively trying to roll your window up from Jack and Jensen who were laughing hysterically. "Oh my gooossshhh roll up pleasseeee!" "JACK WE LOVE YOUUU AND ANTONY, Y/N THINKS YOUR SEXY" Julaya says from the passenger. You zoom off deciding to taking the long way to drop off the pastries.

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

On Set✨

You walk through the trailers trying to get to the main room. A trailer door opens aggressively, Antony and Chace walk out laughing. You drag the two girls away quickly not wanting Antony to see you girls after Julaya's outburst. "Girl what the fuck you draggin us for they still saw yo foine ass. Had em droolin." Kapoia laughs. "Wait for real wait is the dress cute? Is the makeup eating?" "BREATHE GIRL we aint even delivery the food yet come on you look sexy." Julaya mentions walking away with the boxes. "Heyyyyy honey it smells so good and fresh." Eric says giving a tight hug like yall didn't just see each other 5 hours ago. "Alright alright let gooo and eat it let me know how it tastes, text me alright?" You turn around walking noticing Julaya and Kapoia has wandered off. "I told them they can chill before you walked up to us." You turn, "Aww how nice I'll text them to not take too much of those actors' time." You begin to text while walking away zoned in on your phone. Walking through the trailers you crash into a hard body head first. You grip your head immediately snapping back into reality, "Oh shit i'm so sorry." Looking up you make eye contact with Antony mother fucking Starr. "It's okay darling." He bites his lip not hiding him scanning her curvy body. You stare back him in the eyes noticing them glance down to your the lip you're now biting seductively. Snapping out of it, make the most random excuse which was, "Oh well um hi I've gotta go back to my shop." Looking over you see your girls. "YALL COME ON WE GOTTA BUSINESS TO RUN!" Once you see your girls jogging over to the car, you start up the car. "The fuck you in such a rush for? We own the fuckin place, we can open later." Kapoia says upsettingly putting her seatbelt on. Ignoring Kapoia you notice Julaya in the back lipstick smudge like hell. "GIRL WHO THE FUCK YOU MAKE OUT WITH" You ask looking in the rearview at her. "Huh what Jessie girl he was so fine in them pictures I couldn't help myself." Shaking your head you turn up your radio, blasting Frank Ocean - Solo with Antony on the brain.

---

End of chapter one❤️💗💙

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

~~If anyone wants more let me knoww~~

~~i lowkey got bored and noticed barely anyone wrote Antony Starr/Homelander fics for black women so uh here~~

--If i messed up my bad im not really proof reading--

Enjoy☺️

#antony starr x black reader #homelander x black reader #the boys x black reader #black reader #black!reader #antony starr x black!reader #homelander x black!reader #the boys #jensen ackles #jack quaid #Spotify

25 notes · View notes