#oc: jensen

[nickyroethemarinebiologist]

This was born out of a small amount of sadness and a LOT of silliness in the brain. And I like it a lot I think

[zepskies]

This One's For You

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Reader || Ben & daughter!OC (Lila)

Summary: Late one night, finding no other recourse, Ben sings to his infant daughter to help her sleep.

AN: Thanks to this request, this one’s set between Until Morning and Green in the BMD-verse.

Word Count: 1.2K

Song Inspo: "Hey There Delilah" by Plain White T's

Tags/Warnings: Grumpy Ben, established relationship, potential fluff overload.~

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

“Your daughter’s awake,” Ben grumbled into his pillow.

He didn’t need to have sensitive hearing to pick up on the infant’s whining in her crib.

“She’s only my daughter when she has a rough night.” You sighed and turned away from him on your side of the bed. You clutched at your pillow. “It’s your turn, pal.”

His eyes cracked open. He gave you a look of annoyance behind your back.

“I have to get up in three hours for work,” he said.

You didn’t seem to care. You were so tired, he already heard your deeper breaths in sleep. In fairness, you essentially hadn’t slept for three days now. Your daughter was a demanding little thing, with some powerful goddamn lungs.

When another insistent whine and a hiccupping cry reached his ears, Ben released a sound of frustration. He knew he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep until the house was silent again, so after another beat, he finally peeled back the covers. Sliding out of bed, he padded out on bare feet down the hall to the nursery, wearing his usual pair of sweatpants.

He peered over the side of the crib and found Lila blinking up at him. Her tears clung to her lashes as she wriggled around in upset.

“What’s the matter now?” he asked, as if the baby could answer him.

He reached in with careful hands and picked her up, resting her on his chest. She sniffed and predictably latched onto his hair as she cried.

He checked her in various ways, but she didn’t smell like a full diaper (upon which, he would've handed her over to you). She seemed fine, which meant she was being finicky just for the hell of it.

“You’re okay, sweetheart. Come on,” he said as he paced the room with her. “Quiet the fuck down already.”

Still, she wouldn’t stop crying. The whimpers were pitiful, but at least they weren’t ear-splitting wails this time. He just really needed her to stop so he could sleep, expeditiously.

After several minutes with no improvement, however, Ben sighed and dropped down into the rocking chair. He was coming to the end of his tether.

“All right, what’s it gonna take for you to relax?” he muttered. At this point, he wasn’t above bribery. Candy? Money? A new fucking car? Hell, he’d get her a fleet of Ferraris if it’d make her pipe down.

He held Lila in the crook of his arm and tried rocking back and forth in the chair. When that didn’t work, he tried humming a tune—something he’d heard on the radio that now wouldn’t get out of his damn head. The only reason he remembered it was because of his daughter’s name.

“Oh, it’s what you do to me, oh, it’s what you do to me,” he sang softly, deep and baritone, and a little coarse from sleep. (And possibly a little off-key.)

Lila seemed to ease up a little in response to his voice, blinking up at him with those pretty green eyes. Maybe that was the solution.

He cleared his throat in slight embarrassment. He looked in the doorway to make sure he was alone before he kept going with this.  

Okay, what’re the words to the goddamn song…

“H-Hey there, Delilah, what’s it like in New York City?” he started, a bit unsure. The baby blinked up at him, holding a little fist in her mouth. Tears continued to stream down her cheeks while she whimpered, but she looked like she was listening, at least. 

“I'm a thousand miles away, but girl, tonight you look so pretty,” Ben continued. He couldn’t help softening a bit, looking down on her. He swept a tear from her cheek with his thumb.

“Yes, you do. Time Square can’t shine as bright as you…I swear it’s true.”

Tomorrow he was scheduled for another mission out of New York, with Butcher and the rest of the team. Ben didn’t know how long he’d be gone.

“Hey there, Delilah, don't you worry about the distance,” he sang, “I'm right there if you get lonely. Give this song another listen…”

He wouldn’t admit it, but it was hard to leave you and Lila. She was still so small, and he didn’t like the thought of you two being alone, even if Frank was watching out for you.

But Ben had a job to do.

“Close your eyes,” he almost whispered. “Listen to my voice, it’s my disguise. I’m by your side…”

Lila had begun to settle down. He dried her tears as he continued to rock her, continued to hum the melody of the chorus. He couldn’t remember most of the song after that, but there were a few more lines he did have rolling around in his head.

“Hey there, Delilah, here’s to you,” he sang quietly. “This one’s for you…”

 Just then, Ben thought he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He glanced up and found you there, leaning in the doorway. You were holding up your cell phone.

His brows knitted together in a glare.

“What the fuck’re you doing?” he said, sharp and incredulous.

“Shhh,” you reminded him, pointing at the baby. He saw your smirk below the frame of the phone.

Ben looked down and found that Lila was finally asleep. Gritting his teeth, he got up slowly. You were filming him all the while, even with your hair wild in bedhead and your pajama top hanging off your shoulder. Apparently, embarrassing him was more important than sleep.

Ben gently set her back down in the crib. Once he made sure she was safe and settled in sleep, he turned and saw that you were still filming him. He hoped you captured the deathly look of warning on his face.

You bit your lip. Without either of you saying anything, you darted off down the hall. Ben stalked after you.

“Woman, you better get the fuck back here!” he hissed in a coarse whisper. You struggled to contain your laughter.

“You’ll have to catch me first, old man,” you teased.

He chased you around the house—almost knocking over a lamp in the process��until he got ahold of you, and more importantly your phone. He grabbed it out of your hand and held you flush against him with an ironclad arm around your waist.

Ben looked down at you both in satisfaction, and a warning not to try anything else. You laughed and took his bearded face in your hands. You pulled him down to you for a placating kiss.

"You do have a nice voice," you whispered near his lips.

"Shut it. You're on thin fucking ice with me," he groused, with a shake of his head when it only reignited your inane giggling.

His lips reluctantly tugging at a smile, he silenced you with a deeper kiss.

The joke was on him though. While you were running around, you already managed to drop that video into the group chat with Hughie, Annie, and all the rest of your friends at Supe Affairs.

Come the morning, Ben was about to have a very interesting day at the office. 

AN: 😂 Did you enjoy another dose of dad!Ben in the BMD-verse? 💚

Keep Reading in the BMD-verse:

Coming up next, Ben gets his revenge in Lesson Learned:

Summary: There’s only so much teasing Ben is willing to take. He has no choice but to punish you.

▶️ Keep Reading: Lesson Learned

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Break Me Down Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26

@spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

@mrsjenniferwinchester @lyarr24 @xoxovienna @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28

@nancymcl @ashbatz @rizlowwritessortof @kristophalis @wonderland2022

@emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow

@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @theonlymaninthesky

@kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun

@lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl

@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420

@tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67 @deansbbyx

[rubyvhs]

nightmare [dean winchester]

pairing; dean w x fem! reader summary; you go on a hunt with the brothers but when it goes to shit, dean can’t help being overprotective. tags; angst, stitching yourself, alcoholic dean, some you and sam in there cause he's the cutest baby, your dad died.

“fuck! sam, quick, get the girls.” dean runs into the impala forcing the engine to roar to life and flashes his lights at the highest setting for the vampires, burning their eyes as the other four get into it and he drives off.

it's quite for the first five minutes, except for the heavy breathing. the two girls that the trio rescued are sleeping peacefully, though you think it's anything but peaceful. their faces aren't relaxed, instead covered in blood and frowning, but their breaths have slowed, at least.

five minutes. that's all it takes before the tension is broken with a, “let me drive, dean.” the older winchester lets out an exaggerated airy laugh for all of two seconds before putting on a straight face and telling him no. “you're hurt, you can hardly keep your eyes open, let me drive, either of us.”

sam is right, dean is hurt way more than both of you combined, he fought off most of the vampires on his own while you took the girls and ran, but he was mostly hurt because he hadn't expected it.

your plan was to get the girls and dip then come back in the morning to wipe them out in their sleep, but you had woken one of them up with the loudest noise you've ever made when one of the girls stabbed you in the stomach with some glass she’d found on the floor. 

again, taken by surprise. obviously the girls thought you were one of the vampires. 

“shut up. it's only a ten minute drive to the nearest hospital.”

“we're going to a hospital?” you don't usually hunt with sam and dean, opting to stay in the motels and do some research, maybe figure out a better plan, but you've never seen them go to the hospital for their injuries, they'd always come home to you bleeding out on the floor.

“for you and the girls, yes.”

“what about you and sam?”

“it's fine.” that shut you up, his strict tone, and stare in the rear view mirror made you slide down in your seat.

ten minutes later you’ve reached 'northwest tawara horspital' and sam is helping the girls out of the impala. dean, while a wanted fugitive, does the same with you. 

but you refuse. “i won't go inside if you two aren't.”

“what?” he moves a little too quickly and holds his side as he winces. god, that can't be comfortable. 

“i won't go inside, we're just wasting time,” sam comes back and stands in the drivers side to talk to you, door open. “see? sam's back, let's get home quickly so we can fix you both up, and me.”

“no, you're going in.” sam was the one to insist this time but you just shake your head and stay planted into your seat. through the corner of your eye you can see both men discussing what to do then they get back in the car with a sigh.

on the drive home it’s mostly silent until you feel your eyes flutter closed. just a few seconds of sleep— but dean’s loud shout of your name wakes you up, “don't close your eyes, we need to fix you up first.” you nod and straighten up, “and what you did back there? fuckin’ reckless, don't pull that shit again. when we tell you to do something, you do it. or you don't come on hunts with us.”

“what the hell? i was the one who decided i didn't want to come with hunts on you guys, you can't take away my choice.”

“like hell i can't!” he isn't looking at you through the mirror, instead focusing on the road because you're on a busy one, but you can still feel his eyes burning into yours. it makes you shrink down in your seat. you hate how much his words affect you, and how visible it is too. 

sam has has never yelled at you really, but even if he had it wouldn't have done much damage, he's too soft for that. dean though... he scares you sometimes, not that he'd hurt you or kick you out, just that he'd be disappointed in you, maybe give you the silent treatment. you don't want that, but you also hate being barked orders at.

“you can't, dean.” sam says to his brother, slapping his shoulder once to ground him back, and it seems to have worked. because you’re not a bad hunter— if anything, you have their back most of the time, you aren’t clumsy or unreliable and what happened had been a mistake that any other hunter would have made. this isn’t about hunting. this is about dean being too controlling.

you thought it was over now that you're at the motel but when he parks baby, he looks back at you, “i can, and i fucking will. you can't act like a child and expect us to let you come on the hunts. you listen to whatever the fuck we tell you to do.” your lips part in surprise, thinking of how to respond, but he doesn't even give you the chance and gets out, slamming the door behind him. 

you don't look at sam as you close baby's door and start walking to the motel. sam catches up and tells you to wait and because you don't have it in you to be yelled at anymore, you turn back and face him.

he says your name, low and soft, “that wasn't an order,” 

shut up before i cry “hey,” he hugs you, your head on his chest and you just let it all out. god, you feel so stupid. you can't believe you were so unprepared and you caused them all this damage. if you had just been in defense mode you would've never screamed, you've been through worst and kept quite. and though you know it’s a little irrational, you can’t help but blame yourself for not being quiet.

“hey, he's just worried about you, he means well, you know that.” you let go slightly and he kisses your forehead, telling you to go into their room and that he'll be in yours to get cleaned up. 

+

walking into the room of the man who just basically called you a two year old is nerve-wrecking. you don't want to be screamed at and god knows you don't want to be treated like a child again. every time you think you’re getting through to dean, or that you’re becoming closer, something happens and he reminds you you’re still young, naive, and only with them because your dad had told them to.

your father is— was a hunter, he used to hunt with john sometimes, and when he heard about the apocalypse that's soon to be here and all the angels that seem to stride onto earth, he wanted to tie up loose ends, so he asked the winchesters to keep you with them until further notice.

then he never came back. but all of this is something you’ve dealt with ages ago. years even. but this? dean pushing you away all the time? acting like you’re some burden? that, you can’t get over.

“hey,” you hear his voice and turn around, not even having seen him walking towards the bathroom. “how you holding up?”

it’s a stupid attempt to make amends, but it works. the second he says anything, it works. it always does.

“fine.” you mumble and notice he’s finishing supplies to stitch himself up. ouch. you know the boys prefer to do it themselves than help the other out but you’ve always found they need a gentler hand. 

you walk towards him and hold his hand in place to stop his movements, taking the needle from him. he doesn't complain, just drowns the bottle of whiskey. with one hand, the other holding his shirt up. 

when it’s done you hold my hand out for the bottle and he scoffs, as if wasting his alcohol hurts him more than the wound that just got stitched up. he hands it over reluctantly.

you pull down his shirt and decide it’s better if you take a swig too. “does it hurt?” the questions rolls off easily, no matter how angry you are at him. 

“i'll survive.” he shrugs like it's nothing. like the gash over most of his stomach is nothing.

“not what i asked.” dean half-heartedly glares at you but your expectant expression makes him think there isn’t a way out. and there isn’t.

“it's fine, my arm’s just sore.” you sit next to him on the bed, pushing his sleeve up and he hisses, muttering something under his breath and snatching the bottle from your hand to drown it. 

“dean...” it’s surreal. it knocks all the air out of your lungs. you’ve never seen the mark, the one an angel of the lord imprinted on dean’s shoulder, though sam talked about it a couple of times. you clear your throat before he notices the staring and point to the wound, “i think you need to stitch that one too, hand me another needle.”

he does and you get to work. it’s mostly noiseless but it feels like there's something heavy in the air, a confession. though it’s impossible to tell who’s supposed to make it.

“i'm sorry.” you try to hide the surprise on your face by looking down but he doesn't let you, hooking his fingers under your chin and he makes you look up at him. “i was so worried about you.” he lets go, taking a breath in, “the way i felt when you screamed? damn it, i've never felt so scared before and i've been to hell,” he lets out a dry laugh and you smile a little. god he's so perfect.

“i don't wanna hurt you, sweetheart, never, so when i ask you to listen to me it isn't because i'm treating you like a child, i just wanna keep you safe.” there are more words on the tip of his tongue but he shuts up and it doesn’t nothing to help the growing smile on your face. it's more than you thought you’d ever get out of him.

you pour a more of the alcohol on his stitches and pull the sleeve down. “okay, you officially need a shower now, you're all booze and cologne. i need to clean this place up.”

“it's fine, sammy and i will do it.”

“not happening. go get cleaned up, i'll finish here.” you knew that what you’re doing is painfully obvious, but you hope he lets it go, just this once. 

of course he doesn't, instead pulling your shirt up to reveal the various cuts that don’t need stitches, just some treatment, and the stab wound you fixed in the car when they were both too busy sulking in the tension. you’ve gotten a lot better at handling pain since you’ve started with the winchesters.

“when did you do that?”

“doesn't matter, it's done. get in the shower dean, let me clean up and go to sleep.”

“damn it, just answer me when i ask something. when did you do this?”

“car.” you’re scared, tired and you don't want to fight. but he just apologized, for god’s sake, can’t he give it a rest.

you wait for his harsh blow. words that will knock you off my feet, anything really, but he just sighs, letting the shirt go and stands up. you do the same and he embraces you in a hug that you’re quick to reciprocate. so quick you’d already had your arms around his neck before he got his around your waist.

the whiskey burns your nose but it's nothing compared to how your body burns with you so close. “dean?”

“you're so strong, you know?” he takes a beat, a breath, “but that doesn't mean shit to me, i still wanna keep you safe all the time because god knows i don't deserve you but i'm too selfish to let you go.”

you pull away just to see his face. you need to know he means what he's saying. that you’re talking about the both of you in the way you’re thinking. the desperation to convey how he feels to you, it gives you all the confidence in the world to stand a little taller and finally kiss him.

you kiss dean winchester because for the first time in ages, someone cares, someone wants you safe. someone learned from their mistake and did better, someone is fucking perfect and it's dean. 

one of his hands is rough on your waist, the other on you cheek. his tongue, his cologne, it all makes you melt into him. 

then ten seconds later, way too deep into the kiss he pulls away slowly, shakes his head and groans, “why'd you do that.”

you step away him in panic. you were ready for rejection, sure. a small ‘i don't see you like that’, not this.

“i'm sorry, i didn't mean to—”

“no, no, hey,” he steps closer “i just... i don't wanna do this if it's gonna hurt you. i don't know how good i will be if we go down that road and you deserve something good.”

“you are dean,” he licks his bottom lip and it catches you attention, forcing you to bite on yours, “you're good. you're perfect.”

one thing i will not allow in my household is the winchester brothers being insecure that they're not enough (pov it’s all they do). anyways sooo this is for the jensen-a-thon for @artyandink so excited to have my first entry and there’s another one i’ve been working on for a week (hopefully i’m almost done with it). hope you enjoyed this!

[syrma-sensei]

→ Somewhere In Your Heart, Ch.1: Tenderly.

pairing: Soldier Boy x fem!reader.

rating: explicit.

setting: pre-canon; in the early 1980s.

warnings/tags: Ben's foul mouth, sexual innuendos, misogyny, racism, antiquated mentality...

summary: soldier boy lives through the ennui of his peak, but everything is about to change when he has a shift in his heart.

Soldier Boy rolls his eyes at Legend, “No, ain't doing another stupid song. Let Noir do that shit, the kid's been so fucking eager to see his star shine.”

“It wasn't that bad, people loved it. Your fans loved it, and they want more from you,” Legend tries to reason, “Plus, can't win a Grammy award for best record of the year if it sucks. Moreover, it's pretty popular among the young folks.”

The supe sneers, taking a gulp from his drink, he relishes in the burning in his throat even if it's momentarily, “The young folks can suck on my balls. Honestly, the fuck went wrong with young men these days, huh?” He clicks his tongue, “Christ, it is true; good times do create weak, sappy men.” His head jerks to the side sardonically, “Bunch of pussies seeking some women's attention with shitty songs and snivelling lyrics. Chicks don't want no men like that.”

“Yeah well,” Legend shakes his head, a sly grin on his face, “The world's changing, Soldier Boy, if you don't keep up with it, you might end up outdated, just saying.”

Soldier Boy raises a conceited eyebrow, “I'm America's son, hero of all heroes, an actual fucking legend; people practically worship the ground I walk on. In what fucked up sense would that seem to you outdated anytime soon?”

“Time is a tricky thing,” Legend answers with a sigh, “But only for us I presume. I mean look at ya, your sixty-fourth birthday was last month and you don't look a day past thirty. Some lucky bastard you are.”

Soldier Boy grins smugly, placing his glass on the coffee table in front of him where they sat in the living room of his personal quarters in Vought America tower.

Legend decides not to take the time topic any further, because he knows better, such discussions with the strongest supe ever lived are futile and meaningless. Furthermore, he doesn't want to poke Soldier Boy's massive ego, the latter isn't infamous for his temper for nothing. Legend is back to ground zero. So, he tries another way.

“You'll be doing it, though. It's your next mission.” The playful tone from Legend's voice vanishes, a more professional, assertive one replaces it, “It's nothing you can't do. Think of the gals who'll cream their panties when they hear your voice singing their favourite hit.”

Soldier Boy’s lips flip pensively, “Tempting. But still no.”

“Can arrange a collab with whoever female singer you want.” Legend tries again.

“Can ya pair me up with Monroe?” Soldier Boy gives his manager a shit-eating smile.

“For fuck's sake, Soldier Boy,” Legend says with a frown. The little shit, greatest superhero or whatever else, can honestly be a huge pain in his ass. “Be serious.”

“Oh, I'm dead serious,” Soldier Boy grumbles, “Can you do it or not?”

“She died thirty years ago for Christ's sake, of course I can't pair you up with her.”

“Then the answer's still no. I'd rather spend time rubbing one out at Pauline from Donkey Kong than contributing to entertaining a pansy dogshit audience.”

Fuck you. Legend really wants to spit it out loud but he carefully curbs himself. He pinches the bridge of his nose, “Can't help but notice that making my work harder everyday is your new favourite sport, isn't it?”

“C'mon, don't be such a wuss,” Soldier Boy drawls, “Where would be the fun of an easy job? I'm doin' ya a favour; making you truly earn each penny you get paid. It's something we used to call 'hard work' back in my days.”

“Hard work can kiss my ass in that case,” Legend says humorously, shaking his head. Soldier Boy shares an amused chuckle with him.

“Seriously though—”

“Noir's cut out for that shit, not me. He'll be thrilled to do it.” Soldier Boy smirks wickedly as he interrupts him. The kid may not be funny. Fuck, he ain't, and that's precisely why he didn't get Axel Foley at Beverly Hills Cop — but it'd be hilarious to watch him fail in singing. Even if he didn't, nobody can beat Soldier Boy's performing talents.

Before Legend can answer he proceeds, “And tell him while you're at it that he has me to thank for giving him a window like that. He may as well make it fucking count. Make sure he does.” Legend shakes his head.

Soldier Boy and Legend continue to discuss business for another half an hour. Among the offers though; Nintendo wants to make a video game about Soldier Boy.

“For fuck's sake, do those Nips have any dignity?” Soldier Boy jeers.

“Well, it's all about business nowadays.” Legend says. “Arcade games have a large foot in the market, y'know. And, we're hiring many Japanese developers into our new entertainment department. So, I friendly remind you to tune down your slurs.”

Soldier Boy scoffs again. “I’ll see about that…”

When the talk is done, Soldier Boy dismisses the Director of Superhero Management of Vought.

“See ya at the wedding.” Legend says before he steps out of Soldier Boy's quarters.

“Hope fucking not.” The supe murmurs, taking the last gulp of his drink.

This evening Soldier Boy is to attend Dr. Jonah Vogelbaum's daughter's wedding as the guest of honour. The bride is a huge fan of his; her father has personally invited him to the wedding. What more honour can one get than having the greatest superhero ever lived as a guest at their wedding?

Soldier Boy heads to his dressing room to choose a formal outfit for the occasion. He's not going to wear his supe gear even though Vogelbaum made it very clear that he should. But Soldier Boy takes no shit from a nobody, and who the fuck Vogelbaum thinks he is to tell him what to do? Plus, that attire is for business, and him going to that wedding is a mere pursuit for pleasure. He isn't on some mission tonight but to find a good fuck for himself. Women, nonetheless, would throw themselves at his feet regardless of what he puts on. However, fancy tailored suits and bowties seem to pull women more effectively into his charm. When he clads in his supe suit, he's more intimidating; a god walking among men. Women would sigh at his sight and eye-fuck him, but beneath the layers of infatuation, he can perceive the lick of fear in their eyes. Like he's an invincible idol that cannot be touched by lesser hands. Not that he doesn't fucking relish in having such an impact, but he still prefers to pluck a catch in such occasions. Some nice chick who's eager to warm his bed in fearless vigour, some girl who can actually handle his raw strength and superhuman stamina. Especially when Countess won't be up his ass sulking like the bitch she is whenever he pays another woman his attention.

His relationship with Countess is nothing but for show. Pure business. Vought thought they looked good together and had an appealing chemistry in the public eye. Power couple and that shit. But in fact, Soldier Boy has no ounce of romantic feelings for her. Sure, they fuck around every now and then, but nothing more to add to it.

When he's fully dressed and spruced up he looks at himself in the full-length mirror and nods in approval. He'll definitely make the ladies' panties drop tonight.

Soldier Boy arranges a few lines of coke for himself on the coffee table. It'll help him  handle all of the cock-sucking kiss asses he's going to interact with tonight.

God fucking damn.

It takes the mightiest of his steel aplomb not to roll his eyes or hiss a curse. The moment he arrives at the wedding in the swanky hotel, he has everyone's attention all to himself. Guests swarming around him with hearts in their eyes, already forgetting about the wedding. Happy shrieks emit from the gals, and full admiration in the eyes of pals.

Ben puts on an expertly-feigned and charming smirk as he nods his head and shakes hands.

“Oh my Gosh, it's really him!”

A pretty woman in a dashing white dress wobbles down in his direction. The fucking bride. Soldier Boy's grin couldn't get any wider. The girl practically left her fucking husband standing with his groomsmen and came marching to him. Something huge and satisfying sprouts in the depths of his chest when he sees the young man briefly stink-eye in his way.

“If it ain't the queen of the show,” He drawls with a stentorian voice and a conceited raise of his brow. The bride holds a breath, her companion bimbos of bridesmaids sighing dreamily, “Well, congrats on tying the knot, darlin',” Large hand taking the bride's gloved one as he leans down to press a light kiss on her knuckles, and the girls squeal.

“Thank you, sir,” The corner of Soldier Boy's lips curls up into a half grin as he hears the groom's curbed voice, “A huge pleasure for us having the greatest man alive honouring our wedding,”

The man extends his hand out for a shake and Soldier Boy doesn't disappoint. “What can I say, Sonia is one of my best girls,” He sends a playful wink to the bride, and her groom's face rises in colour. However, she giggles timidly with blushing cheeks, and covers her mouth slightly.

“Thank you again, sir, for coming,” Sonia chirps, “Means a lot to us… to me, right, darling?”

Her new husband answers with tight lips, “Yeah, of course, please enjoy your time here, sir.”

Sure hell I'll do.

After signing some autographs, which mostly came from the bridesmaids on this special occasion, Soldier Boy lets out an elongated sigh before plucking a flûte of champagne from a server wandering around with a full tray of pleasantries. With the first sip invading his strong taste buds, he regrets it instantly. That shit is extra fruity with enhanced floral notes, it made his face controt in disgust.

“You're late,” The Doc's voice comes curt when he appears next to him, eyeing him disapprovingly. His unpleasing presence made the twitch of his face worse. The little shit. He should be kissing his ass and thanking him for wasting his time on this crap. Soldier Boy should hand it to him, though, he's got some balls. He scoffs. Ever since Vogelbaum gained Stan Edgar's infinite corroboration and support, he's become insufferable. And perhaps sometimes looming dangerously close to make Soldier Boy's hackles rise.

Ben grins indifferently at him, “Had a tight schedule,” Be glad I'm here you ungrateful old fuck.

Vogelbaum stretches his lips and nods, “You have my thanks anywho,” He grumbles, “Though I strictly told you to honour us with your presence in your suit.”

“Yeah, you did,” Soldier Boy replies with a shit-eating grin, “But wasn't in me to steal the light away from your breathtaking helluva daughter,” He patted the doctor's shoulder, “Cheer the hell up, Doc, it's your daughter's wedding and you have the greatest man ever lived as your guest!”

Ben can't endure another second of this man's company. He hands him the flûte and threads his way to the bar to order a drink. A real fucking drink. He sights a vacant stool next to a pretty woman who seems to be without company. He grins to himself when he catches a better angle of her. She is a beauty. Maybe she's the lucky one tonight. He smoothes his suit jacket and adjusts his bowtie before sliding nimbly on the stool.

He orders a strong liquor from the bartender and the beauty next to him cooes, “Make it two, please.”

He turns his head to her with an arched eyebrow, because fuck does he appreciate a woman who's not a lightweight, “Tough night?”

Her painted mouth curls up into an inveigling smile, “Should I ask you the same question?”

Brave. Tempting. He loves brave. Whereas most women are intimidated by him, this one here though, she looks unfazed. He likes it. He wonders what she's gonna sound when he's balls deep inside of her. Timid, brave, strong, weak, they all sound the same in his bed when he touches the magic button. One thing he was certain of was she'd sound pretty in her throes of pleasure.

He gives her figure a quick scan; she isn't one of bridesmaids that's for sure. She's wearing a forest green dress. Her skin is glowing beneath the velvet, and a pleasant fragrance emitting from her body. Her neck and ears are adorned with gold and rubies. She looks hazily beautiful.

“Groom's or bride's?” He asks when their drinks are served.

She flashes him a grin with those tempting lips, “Why wouldn't you hazard a guess like when you do on a minefield?” She winks, taking a gulp of her drink.

Interesting, he raises an amused brow. At least she ain't playing easy. He has to give her that; she's making his night way more entertaining. He likes to play prey and predator let alone when she's practically inviting him to do so.

A playful grin graces his lips, replying, “Can't risk bursting a pretty lady like you tho, can I?”

She lets out a small laugh, “God forbid, what kinda superhero would you be then?” His eyebrows knit together slightly as he watches her grabbing her purse and preparing herself to leave.

“It was nice running into you, sir,” She remarks, “But you'll have to excuse me…”

“Sure, sweet cheeks…”

She nods as she moves away with such grace and swiftness. Ben doesn't realise he was holding his breath until it clicks within him. Fuck, he forgot to ask her her name. But nothing to worry about, he catches her entering the powder room. In moments, he'll go after her and take this rather interesting conversation somewhere else.

He waits though. For more than fifteen minutes. Vogelbaum makes his way on the stage to raise a toast to his daughter and her groom, and he doesn't forget to give Ben a word of gratitude for being here. People cheer and applaud when the lights shine upon him, and he smiles and nods at them. On another occasion, he'd enjoy this to the fullest. His mind, however, is occupied by finding a pretty seductress. Can it be that she left? No, he doesn't think so. Fuck, if only he could distinguish her voice out of the many nattering and yapping voices despite his superhuman hearing. He considers asking Vogelbaum about her later. Maybe the man would be useful to him for once. But he will not have to, though.

The lights of the hall ebb away, save for the ones above the music stage.

A wide grin slips into his lips when he sees her behind the microphone, and their eyes lock for a moment. She gives him a teasing wink.

The little minx, he thinks.

Tender music emanates from the piano and she starts to sing with a silky voice.

The evening breeze caressed the trees tenderly

Damn, he likes that song. And her voice couldn't be more on brand for it!

The trembling trees embraced the breeze tenderly

He feels the said breeze of her cooes and it makes him shiver.

Then you and I came wandering by

And lost in a sigh were we

Ben conjures a vivid image of her sighs of pleasure.

The shore was kissed by sea and mist tenderly

She's the shore, and his mouth is the sea.

I can’t forget how two hearts met breathlessly

Your arms opened wide

And closed me inside

You took my lips

You took my love

So tenderly

A loud applause erupted from the guests when she finished, and Ben found himself amongst the riveted clappers.

God fucking damn.

Ben knows a lot of singers, hell, he works with them sometimes. But never has he ever heard such a mellifluous voice like this one! How come he hasn't known of her before? A new face, he guesses. He wonders if Legend knows her.

Ben stops clapping as his conversation with Legend that afternoon flashes through his mind. That's it.

Shortly after the wedding, Ben heads back to his quarters in Vought's tower, impatiently dialling Legend's number.

“That sappy song you wanted me to do—” He says right away.

“Well, good evening to you too,” Legend drawls from the other end, “As happy as I am to hear that, Ben, but I'm kinda fucking tired to talk business right now. Despite my marvellous traits, I'm still a human.”

“I'll do it.”

Soldier Boy could hear Legend switching the handset of the telephone to the other hand. And before the latter says anything he proceeds.

“Only on one condition...”

🦅 Next Chapter: A New Window.

🦅 Somewhere In Your Heart Masterlist.

🦅 Soldier Boy Masterlist.

Taglist: @thebiggerbear, @zepskies, @deanbrainrotwritings, @deansbbyx, @deans-spinster-witch

@venus-haze, @kaleldobrev, @k-slla, @ketchupjasmin...

[dinner-partys]

[castiwls]

one day - d.w

Paring; dean x reader

Requested; anon

Synopsis;Dean winchester and you had always been close. Destined to fall in love almost, yet nothing good can last forever.(kinda based on the book/series 'one day')

Warnings; mentions of death

Notes;complete truth ive never seen or read the book so I reseaeched it as well as I could. This genuinely made me tear up writing but I hope you enjoy :)

Masterlist

[2005]

“Here.” Dean nudged your shoulder with him before passing you a beer. You smiled mumbling a small thanks before looking back to the horizon in front of you. The sun had just started to set casting the field in an almost golden glow as you both sat quietly.

His leg pressed against yours as he sat down, your backs against the side of his car. A long breath left his lips as he leaned his head against the car for a moment his eyes moved from the sky to watch you as you slowly sipped on the drink, a small smile playing on your lips.

‘When did you say you were leaving again?” You turned your head tensing slightly when you realised how close he was now. A small blush grew on your cheeks as your breath seemed to catch for a moment before you managed to compose yourself. 

If Dean was affected by the sudden proximity he didn’t show it. He hummed quietly pursing his lips in thought for a moment. “Monday. Dad said to meet him in Jericho.” You nodded a small pit of disappointment growing in your stomach. Monday was only three days away.

“Monday.” You repeated taking another sip of your drink. Dean’s arm curled around your shoulder shifting you slightly closer. “I wish you’d come round more.” You sighed reaching down to intertwine your fingers with his. “I miss you.” 

Dean’s eyes trailed down to where you’d intertwined your hands and he gently squeezed your hand. “You could come with me.” His eyes lit up slightly at the idea. 

You sighed. “Dean we both know that's not possible.” He seemed to deflate slightly before blowing out a breath. “I know, I know.” He shook his head, a small chuckle leaving his lips. “Plus, I think Bobby would actually kill me.” 

A laugh of your own espaced your lips. “That’s very likely.” 

Dean couldn’t help the smile which spread across his face again as he watched you laugh beside him. The sound alone left his heart fluttering, he’d always prided himself on his ability to make you smile no matter the situation.

He’d quickly learnt that one of his favourite things was seeing you happy and he’d do anything to make sure that happened. After a moment you fell quiet, your head resting on his shoulder as he squeezed you closer. 

He leaned down pressing his lips to your head for a long moment before settling back against the car. 

Truthfully a large part of him was dreading your impending goodbye. Hunting was taking up more and more of his time and in turn, he found himself with less and less free time and in turn less time to see you. 

The selfish part of him wanted to take you with him. Keep you by his side at all times but he knew you didn’t want that. You’d spent endless hours as kids and teenagers talking about your future plans and hunting was simply something you weren’t interested in.

Sure, you had the training and you knew more than enough to take on the job but it had never called to you in the way it seemed to Dean. 

The sun continued to set casting the world into greyscale as you both continued to sit there, mindlessly talking about anything and everything. 

A small yawn escaped your lips as you placed the bottle down beside you. Dean’s hand squeezed your shoulder. “Ready to head back?” He stretched his free arm over his head before moving to stand.

He held out a hand to you, which you quickly grasped. You stumbled slightly as you stood placing a hand on his chest to steady yourself. Dean grinned. “One drink and you're already falling over.”

You shook your head swatting at his arm. “Shut up.”

He laughed wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “Someone can’t handle her drink.” He teased. “Dean!” You scolded. “I can handle my drink just fine thank you very much.” You pulled back from his side after a moment moving to stand in front of him. 

You studied his face for a moment, memorising every inch. “When will you be back?” He sighed pushing his hands into his pockets. “Soon. I promise.” 

He took a small step forward. “I’ll phone, every night alright.” He pulled a hand from his pocket reaching up to gently brush your jaw. “Be careful. Please.” You hated him hunting. You’d find yourself spending most of your days in an anxious haze waiting with bated breath to hear his voice. To know that he was alive.

He brushed his thumb over your cheek. “I always am.” He leaned down pressing his lips to your head. “You're not getting rid of me that easily.”

—

“You sure you can’t stay just one more day?”

Dean laughed quietly shaking his head. “Afraid not.” He wrapped an arm around your waist, sighing gently. “Duty calls.”

Your arms wrapped around his neck, one of your hands running through the hair at the nape of his neck. His thumb rubbed small circles on your hip as he watched you, his heart picking up slightly as your fingers skimmed the back of his neck.

“I’ll call you later okay.” He pulled you closer resting his chin on your head. You closed your eyes relaxing into his hold. “Okay.” 

You stayed like that for a while before eventually pulling back. Mumbling a soft ‘bye’ he dropped his hands from your waist.

You watched from your spot as the Impala disappeared around the corner. You stood for a moment longer before turning and walking back into the house, mentally praying to whatever was up there that he’d come back safe.

[2010]

The click of the motel door pulled your attention from the article you’d been reading. Dean smiled holding up a take-out bag before walking over and placing it down on the table. He moved behind you placing a hand on the table. “Find anything?”

“Nope.” You sighed turning to face him. He let out a sigh of his own before reaching over to shut the laptop. “Hey.” You protested reaching over to reopen it, though Dean was faster. He pushed the laptop across the table. “You’ve been at it all day, it's late.” 

You pursed your lips before nodding. “Okay. I’m done.” His grin brightened pressing his lips to yours for a moment. The action still left you breathless even after months. You’d both danced around each other for so long that you weren’t entirely sure when you crossed the line from best friends to something more.

For the longest time you’d tried to push your feelings down. Tried to ignore the way your heart seemed to pick up whenever he was in the room as you were afraid of getting hurt. Your anxiety over him leaving was bad enough when he was simply your friend you couldn’t imagine the mess you would have been should you have been something more.

But over the last year, since his death and later resurrection, you’d found yourself joining him and Sam more and more. At first, you’d simply claimed you were catching up for lost time but over time you’d found yourself enjoying it. 

You’d never seen the appeal of the fast-paced life until now.

It also finally allowed your relationship with Dean to develop and move away from the cycle you’d both been stuck in. 

You hummed quietly as he pulled back. “C’mon, it’s gonna get cold.”

—

The smell of coffee drifted throughout the house as you slowly made your way downstairs. Music played softly from the kitchen as you passed through the small lounge, a tired smile growing on your lips as you leaned against the archway.

As if sensing your presence Dean turned, a grin on his face. “Mornin’ sweetheart.” You mumbled your own greeting before he turned back to the stove. Crossing the room you wrapped your arms around his waist sighing softly.

“You're up early.” Your check rested against his chest as your eyes glanced to the clock in the kitchen. 09:04 am. Dean hummed. “Couldn’t sleep.” 

You frowned slightly pulling back. “I noticed.” You moved to stand beside him. “You know you can talk to me right.” You placed a hand on his arm. “You don’t have to handle this alone.”

Dean stayed quiet, his grip on the pan tightening slightly. “I know.” He murmured.

The apocalypse hadn’t been easy on any of you. Dean especially. Losing Sam shook you all hard, harder than you’d imagined. It had gotten easier but he still had his moments. You both did.

You watched him for a moment longer mentally sighing. You hated when he’d close up like this. 

Leaning up on your toes you pressed a kiss to his cheek before pulling back. “I’ll get the plates.”

Dean nodded, a small smile pulling at his lips as you brushed a hand over his arm. He watched you from the corner of his eye, the feeling of grief which had consumed him since the night before seeming to melt away just slightly as he watched you.

The world had always seemed that much brighter whenever you were around, he supposed that was why he’d spent years begging you to come with him. Even now when his whole world crumbled around him the one constant he had left was you and you’d stayed.

He’d never imagined being able to live a normal life, it simply wasn't something that he’d seen as possible. Yet now he had that, he couldn’t imagine doing it with anyone else.

Leaning down he flicked the heat off turning to watch as you moved around the small kitchen. You turned, smiling as you caught his eye. “Done?”

“Mhm.” He nodded, opening his arms as you approached him. You settled against his chest, your arms wrapping around his neck as he went to your waist. You stayed like that for a moment before you pulled back slightly looking up at him.

His eyes seemed to sparkle almost in the morning light as he stared fondly down at you. “You know I love you right.” He pressed his lips against yours for a moment. “I know.” You whispered leaning your forehead against his.

This was his heaven.

[2015]

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in a hospital, but wandering the halls now he remembered why he disliked them. The white walls seemed too bright on his tired eyes as he made what must have been his fifth trip down to the coffee machine that day alone.

He’d long since stopped caring about how long it had been since he’d first stepped foot inside the building. Sam had mumbled something about him needing to go and get some sleep - something about how he was only going to make himself ill but he couldn’t find it in him to care.

The hunt had gone bad. Really bad. 

None of you had noticed the fifth vamp. None of you had noticed the way it had managed to get behind you until it was too late. Dean kept replaying the moment over and over in his head, every time he closed his eyes all he could see was the moment you hit the floor. The way your body had gone limp in his arms.

The memory left bile rising in his throat as he pushed a random button on the machine. 

He really needed a drink.

The doctors had told them you were stable. You’d been in surgery for hours and even that had been touch and go. 

There had been blood - so much blood.

Shaking slightly he grabbed the cup before setting off back to the lifeless room which had become his home over the last few days. 

The monitors beeping had ingrained themselves in his brain and it seemed no matter where he was all he could hear was the sounds of the machines currently keeping you alive.

Shouldering the door open he paused for a moment. If he really thought about it he could just trick himself into thinking you were asleep and that you weren’t clinging to life by a thread.

Sitting down in the chair beside your bed he let out a shaky breath, bringing the cup to his lips he took a long sip. The liquid burned as he swallowed.

Placing the cup down he reached over to grasp your hand in his. The skin was cooler than normal as he rubbed his thumb over your knuckles. “You gotta wake up Sweetheart.” 

His eyes slowly moved from your hand to your face as he leaned closer. 

For the first time in a while, he felt truly lost. Normally you’d be the one to comfort him in these situations. When his dad died you’d been there and the countless times he’d lost Sam it was always you who’d be standing not far away, waiting to pick up the pieces and mend what was broken.

Yet now you weren’t there. 

Drawing in a breath he felt a tear fall from his eyes. He quickly wiped it away before brushing a hand over your head. “I can’t do this alone.”

His voice was quiet as he spoke. This wasn't supposed to happen. You were supposed to get old, and maybe have a few kids (hopefully with him). Hell, you were supposed to get married - something you’d always talked to him about.

But now all that seemed like a distant fantasy. Something which a few days ago had been so in reach was now nothing more than a distant fantasy. Something which the realistic part of him knew would never happen.

He fell quiet after a moment, his eyes glued to your face as he pulled every ounce of strength he had not to break down then and there. 

His free hand slipped down into his pocket. His fingers grasped the small box before pulling it out. Dean stared at it for a moment, fresh tears gathering in his eyes as he flicked the box open.

The ring glistened under the white light. He started at it for a moment longer before snapping the box shut. 

Standing from the chair he ran a hand through his hair as he slowly paced the room. The beeping continued quietly in the background until suddenly the room fell quiet.

It must have been less than a second yet he still paused, a frown growing on his lips before the beeping returned - this time louder and more instant.

Within a minute the room was swarmed. Doctors and nurses all talking over each other as he stood there, frozen. He barely registered someone taking his arm and pulling him from the room in his daze.

No. No. No.

His body refused to move from where the nurse had left him quickly telling him to stay there. The world almost seemed to slow down as he watched on from his spot. 

“Dean.” Sam’s voice broke him from the daze. He sounded breathless as he planted a hand on his brother's shoulder, a pained look on his face. “Sit.” He pushed his brother into a chair before falling into the one beside him. 

He placed his head in his hands.

After what seemed like an eternity a doctor - one Dean recognised - emerged. His face is natural as he came to stand before them both. Sam practically shot out of his seat as the doctor sent Dean a glance.

He whispered something before pulling Sam a few feet away. Ignoring them both he stood slowly walking towards the doorway. The room was mostly empty now except for a nurse who paused upon hearing his footsteps.

She sent him a sympathetic look before gently brushing past him. Just as he went to step into the room a hand on his shoulder stopped him. “Dean.” Sam’s voice shook slightly as he turned to face his brother. 

The doctor stood beside him, a solemn look now on his face. “She’s okay” Dean looked between the two. His fist clenched at the silence. “She’s okay.” He was more instant this time.

The doctor sighed, swallowing thickly. “I’m afraid not. She lost too much blood. We did what-”

“She’s fine.” Dean cut him off stepping closer. His eyes hardened as a burst of anger seemed to bubble over. Sam quickly stepped between the two as Dean’s voice began to rise in volume. 

“She’s fine. You said she would be fine.”

His hands shook slightly as he felt his brother push him back until he hit a wall. The words continued to fall from his lips, each more frantic than the one before. “I’m so sorry.” The man said before turning and walking away.

Dean watched before turning back to his brother. Sam swallowed, his eyes glassy as he stepped back. His eyes darted over to the room door before looking back to Dean. 

“You need to say goodbye.”

At that moment the dam inside him snapped. The anger faded to pure despair as he ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t. I can’t. She’s not…” He shook his head. The world left the bile climbing back up his throat.

“Dean.” Sam sighed watching as his brother moved back to the room doorway. “I’ll give you a minute.”

Dean barely glanced back before stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him.

You looked peaceful.

Steeling himself he moved back over to his seat. Taking your hand in his he sat for a moment. “I’m so sorry.” He whispered. He slipped out of the chair, the floor hard beneath his knees as he shuffled closer.

Reaching into his pocket he pulled out the box again carefully opening it before pulling the ring out. 

He didn’t bother to stop the tears which threatened to fall as he gently took your hand in his, slipping the ring onto your finger before placing your hand back down on the bed. 

Leaning up he placed his lips to your cheek. 

“I love you.” His lips brushed your cheek gently. “I’ll never stop loving you.” 

Leaning his head on the bed he finally broke down.

Intertwining your fingers, he felt the cool press of the ring against his skin as his whole world finally crumbled down.

[the-offside-rule]

Jensen Ackles - Cookies

Requested: no I just re-entered my Jensen Ackles phase

Warnings: no not really

Y/N took a deep breath as she stepped off the plane, the weight of her successful world tour lifting slightly from her shoulders. The past few months had been a whirlwind of concerts, interviews, and sleepless nights, but it was all worth it. Her fans had shown her an incredible amount of love, and she had given every performance her all. Now, she was finally home.

The drive from the airport felt longer than usual, the anticipation building with every passing mile. As her car pulled up to the house, she could already see the welcoming glow of the lights through the windows. She grabbed her bags and walked up to the door, her heart racing with excitement.

As soon as she stepped inside, she was greeted by the warm, sweet aroma of freshly baked cookies. Her tired eyes lit up with joy at the familiar smell. From the kitchen, she heard the sound of laughter; Jensen's deep chuckle mixed with the giggles of their children.

Y/N dropped her bags in the hallway and made her way towards the kitchen, her heart swelling with love. She paused for a moment at the doorway, taking in the scene before her. Jensen stood at the counter, a dusting of flour on his shirt, and their children were covered in chocolate and sprinkles, their faces beaming with delight. The kitchen was a mess, but it was the most beautiful sight Y/N had seen in months.

She stepped into the room, her presence unnoticed until she softly cleared her throat. Jensen looked up first, his green eyes widening in surprise and then joy. "Mom's home!" He exclaimed, crossing the room in a few quick strides to pull her into a tight embrace. "Welcome home, baby."

Their children rushed over, wrapping their arms around her legs, their excited voices overlapping. "Mommy! Mommy! We made cookies for you!" Y/N laughed, the sound light and full of happiness. She knelt down, hugging them tightly. "I can see that, my little bakers. They smell amazing."

Jensen leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "We've missed you so much." He murmured. "I've missed you all too." She replied, her voice thick with emotion. She stood up, still holding onto her family. "The kitchen looks like a flour bomb went off, but I don't even care right now." Jensen grinned, a playful glint in his eye. "Yeah, we might have gotten a little carried away."

Y/N chuckled, feeling the exhaustion of her travels melt away in the warmth of her family's love. "Let's clean this up together, and then we can watch a movie and eat these cookies. How does that sound?"

Their children cheered, and with Jensen's arm around her waist, they all set to work. The mess was cleaned up in no time with everyone pitching in, and soon they were all snuggled up on the couch, a plate of warm cookies in front of them.

As the opening credits of their favorite movie began to play, Y/N felt a deep sense of contentment. She was home, surrounded by the people she loved most in the world, and nothing could be more perfect than this moment.

[jensencart]

Commission - Beast King - Princess Ellie - Knight Callum

From a Beauty and the Beast retelling that the commissioner has been working on for a time, seems neat!

[artyandink]

JENSEN-A-THON

WELCOME!

Rules:

You have to have trigger warnings on your drabbles/oneshots

No inc3st, p3dophilia, age gaps are allowed as long as one isn’t a minor, if anything is majorly outta pocket then nope sorry

Any of Jensen’s characters

You may use a section from an existing fic IF it works as a drabble

No OC inserts. (Y/N) or no mentioned names are allowed

You’re allowed same sex couples

Smut is allowed

Jensen’s Characters (That aren’t so hard to find info on):

Dean Winchester

Soldier Boy

Beau Arlen

Alec McDowell

CJ Braxton

Jason Teague

Tom Hanniger

Russell Shaw

Boaz Priestly

When is it happening?

2nd June - 31st July

List of writers participating (comment/reblog to show you’re participating):

@artyandink @k-slla @jackles010378 @angelbabyyy99 @lailawinchesterr @kayleighwinchester @anundyingfidelity @nescaveckwriter

This will be then compiled into a fic rec list, so everyone can read it. If a writer posts a drabble/oneshots, do reblog with feedback or a review to keep the flow going! The writer who posts the most drabbles/oneshots in those ten days will get a personalised oneshot written by me.

Have fun!

IMPORTANT NOTE: I will need you to tell me in the comments or by reblog, or by DMs if you’re participating!

IMPORTANT 2: Make sure to tag me in your drabbles/oneshots so I can tally!

IMPORTANT 3: You can anyways participate, I just want to have a list so I can compile the fic rec list!

[deanvhs]

part one :

“Dean?” He doesn’t look up from his clasped hands. He’s hunched over on the edge of the bed and it takes everything in you not to immediately take his hands in yours, but sometimes Dean needs his space, so you just sit next to him. “Sam didn’t mean—”

“Why are you here?” He growls, rubbing his hands down his stubble like he does when he’s irritated or sad. “I’m fine, just get back to Sam. You need to figure out how you’re gonna get out of the deal.” 

Sam’s reaction to Dean selling his souls wasn’t all he thought it would be. His little brother screamed at him, then they had a fighting fest, then— Sam cried. Dean ran over to his room after that but the truth is, you wouldn’t leave him like this if he forced you. He can’t deal with Sam loving him and showing it, he gets too overwhelmed too quickly. 

“I know you’re fine, but that doesn’t mean I’m not here for you. Sam’s your brother too, he’s scared.”

“I know that.” His voice is raising slowly.

“Yeah? Then why aren’t you out there with him. He needs you, you need him, get out there. Stop ignoring Sam whenever he tells you he wants to protect you!” And stop ignoring you when you try to do the same.

He mutters your name but it’s angry, “let it go. Get down to Sam.” You’re sure Bobby and Sam can hear the whole conversation, thin walls, but that doesn’t deter Dean because he slams his fist against the nightstand. Most of the time Dean’s aggressive nature and frustration never makes you nervous but you freakin’ flinch like a twelve-year-old and walk out. 

You can try all you want to help him talk to Sam— to try and give Sam hope that Dean will make an effort to stay alive, but if Dean won’t try with you then you’re just not sure I should be either. Both hunters can tell what’s wrong. “He’s a tough kid, you knew that.” Nodding along, Bobby smiles and leaves. 

“Don’t stop tryin’, please. He won’t listen to anyone else.” 

You scoff. “He’ll listen to you. Whatever you ask of him.”

Sam seems hesitant, which is stupid, Dean sold his souls for him, of course he’ll do whatever he wants. “Not in the same way, he does it with me out of obligation, he does it with you out of love.”

You shake your head. “Sam, that’s not true. Dean doesn’t love me and he sure as hell isn’t forced to look out for you— no matter the extent of your shitty childhood John would’ve never asked Dean to sell his souls for you, that’s all him.” 

He shakes his head like you’re just saying all this to calm him down— which sure, think what you want, but he’s wrong. So wrong. Dean would go to hell (obviously) and back just to make sure Sam is happy and content, and a part of it is because of those words play in a loop in his head every so often (protect Sammy) but the bigger part is because the co-dependency goes beyond needing to be next to each other, and no one put that in Dean. It was all him.

“He does, you know?” You furrow your eyebrows at his words. “Love you. You aren’t just convenient or whatever you convinced yourself of. He loves you.”

“Whatever you say.” You and Dean sleeping with each other once a month doesn’t mean love, it means he thinks you’re easy. It means you’re expandable and nothing more to the Winchesters than a little sister and a good fuck.

[nickyroethemarinebiologist]

Teensy tiny little cowboys

[zepskies]

Calculated Risks

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Summary: You and Ben argue about your commitment to being a working mom. When a rogue supe gets loose at Supe Affairs, mayhem ensues, putting not only your life at risk, but your daughter’s as well.

AN: Welcome back to the BMD-verse, friends! Did you miss these two as much as I did? Plus, get ready for a heavy dose of fan-favorite Frank. (And Lila, of course!)

Word Count: 7K

Tags/Warnings: Familiar bickering, a mission gone awry, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff.

Catch up on the BMD-verse. ⤵️

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

In four years of marriage, one thing that had never changed between you and Ben was this.

“All right, you’re being a little too much right now,” you said in irritation. “Of course I’m not sitting this one out. I’m the one who found us the damn lead in the first place.”

The man was following you from the adjoining bathroom and back into your shared bedroom, where you began getting dressed for work in the blouse and pencil skirt you’d laid out for yourself.

Your husband had already donned his supe suit, sans helmet. He stood just behind you with his arms crossed, a familiar surly frown on his face. When you turned around, he hadn’t moved an inch.

“I’m being too much? You’re the one who’s not being fucking reasonable,” he said.

You rolled your eyes and moved past him to find your shoes. For this skirt, you really needed heels. Your most comfortable black pumps would do. You grabbed the closet doorknob for balance as you slipped them on, giving him a look of exasperation.

Ben held firm on his stance, but inside, he had a feeling you’d chosen this outfit on purpose. You knew he liked this whole sexcretary look on you, with your hair let down around your shoulders. The skirt and heels just brought his eyes to the delectable curve of your ass.

But again, he was holding firm.

He’d been called in on this case partly because Annie was on maternity leave. She was due in just a few weeks. Which meant “Soldier Boy” was definitely needed to help out Butcher and his merry band of assholes. By now, Ben had gotten used to them.  

“Look,” you said, “Slingshot has been causing a lot of havoc, and the police haven’t been able to catch him. You heard Grace. This is an ‘all hands on deck’ situation.”

“She always says that shit. Doesn’t make it true,” Ben retorted.

“This time it is,” you said. “I’ve already put in tons of man hours on surveillance for this guy. I want to get him off the street.”

Ben held you by your arms. “That’s exactly my point. You’ve been putting in way too many hours.”

You shook your head. He just didn’t get it.

“If I hadn’t, we wouldn’t have this opening now,” you said. You gave him a smile to try and lighten him. “Now he’s all teed up for you and the guys. This should be in and out. Practically a milk run for you.”

“Yeah, but not for you,” he pointed out. “And not for Lila. You’re stretching yourself too damn thin. It’s not like we need the money.”

Ahh, now we get to it, you thought. Yet again, he was bringing this up. In his mind, you should’ve cut your hours at Supe Affairs after Lila was born.

You did take an extended maternity leave of an entire year and a half, which was much more than women usually got from their jobs. However, because of your relationship with Grace and the entire team, you’d been allowed to come back whenever you felt ready. 

Ben had often felt it necessary to point out that with his money, you didn’t have to work at all. 

He knew very well that for you, this work was more than a job. 

“I’m not the first working mom in existence, Ben,” you said, pushing out of his hold. “And I’ll remind you that Supe Affairs has a great daycare program. Lila’s very happy there.”

Plus, she was almost three and a half years old. In less than a year, Lila would be off to preschool.

“And look, it’s not about the money,” you added. “I told you before Lila was born. I am a mother, and I’m your wife. But I’m still me.”

Ben processed that for a moment, meeting your gaze.

“The situation’s changed,” he replied. He grasped your hips this time. His thumb gently brushed over your belly, which had a small bump under your high-waisted skirt. 

You were finally pregnant again. Three months, in fact, and you were having a boy. You knew that Ben had several reasons to be more protective than usual…but still. You thought you were already taking every precaution to keep you and your children safe, even with the occasionally extensive hours of your job.

“These cases can be long and difficult, not to mention dangerous,” said Ben. His green eyes met yours as he looked down at you through furrowed brows. “You’re putting yourself at risk.”

You blew out a breath and tried to placate him, soothing a hand over his chest. 

“I’ve stopped doing field missions,” you pointed out. “And Supe Affairs is the most secure building in the city. Do you think I would bring Lila there if it wasn’t?”

The security team at the S.A. was bar none, not only because Loco was a part of that team. Frank was also your personal bodyguard; Ben hired him back when you found out you were pregnant with Lila.

In fact, Frank was coming to the house in a few minutes to pick you all up.

Ben frowned. “I think you’re being stubborn just to be fucking stubborn.”

That sparked at your temper. Again, you withdrew from his arms and crossed yours.

“I think you need to face the fact that I’m protected as well as I can be,” you said. “I also think that you’re trying to use this as a way to shoehorn me into some antiquated idea of what you still think a wife should be. I’m gonna tell you right now. That’s not me! It’s never been me. And you know that.”

He opened his mouth to give an angry retort, but you beat him to it.

“It’s like you don’t even care about what I want,” you snapped. “Just what you think is right—for me to be here waiting for you to come home, quite literally barefoot and pregnant, ready to rub your balls!”

Cliché as it might’ve been to say, if the shoe fit, then you were certainly not going to be the one to wear it.

“You know what, you can accuse me of being stuck in the fucking past all you want,” Ben said, raising a finger, as well as his voice. “But the problem here isn’t me. It’s that what you want is goddamn idiotic!”

Your mouth fell agape. “Excuse me?! I can’t even believe you right now!”

Ben fairly loomed above you when he shouted back.

“Well, that makes fucking two of us!”

His voice was loud enough to reverberate on the walls. You even flinched, but you held your ground with a glare…

Until you heard a whimper.

You and Ben paused, and turned to find Lila. The three-year-old was cowering a bit in the doorway to your bedroom. Her eyes welled up with tears, and she began to cry.

Your heart broke.

“Oh, honey,” you breathed. You were both apologetic and mortified as you quickly went to her.

Ben was close behind you, but while Lila was quick to melt into your arms when you picked her up, she shied away from his attempt to reach out to her. What would’ve been a placating hand on her head, turned into him pausing in surprise when she ducked.

“Lila?” he prodded.

He tried to mask how put out he was by his daughter hiding her face from him, burrowing into your neck instead. She was usually a daddy’s girl, through and through.

You shot him a knowing frown, while rubbing her back in comfort.

“It’s okay, baby,” you told her. “Your dad and I were just…talking. He didn’t mean to shout.”

When Lila only whimpered in response, Ben’s gaze dimmed in understanding. His lips pursed.

You saw that look on his face, and you wanted to sigh. Part of you felt bad for him, at the way Lila had flinched away from her father. In a way though, maybe it was a lesson he needed to learn.

Frank arrived a few minutes later in a black SUV, like he did every weekday morning to bring you all to work. Ben was quiet and taciturn climbing into the backseat on one side, and you clipped Lila into her car seat from the other side. He still made sure that she was strapped in correctly, and even tried to earn his daughter’s gaze.

She snuck a glance at him a couple of times, but quickly lowered it to play with one of her favorite stuffed animal toys (a little German shepherd that he had gotten for her).

Ben let out a long breath through his nose. He gave Frank a nod through the rearview mirror, and the other man peeled away from the house.

The four of you rode in silence away from your house in Scarsdale, towards New York City.

Ben’s mood remained grim, even when you all got to Supe Affairs. Frank held back while you and Ben stopped in the hallway with Lila. You were carrying her, and she was holding onto you and her stuffed animal like a lifeline instead of looking anywhere else—namely at Ben.

You sighed and tried to pull her back enough to see her face.

“Daddy’s gotta go to work now. Want to say goodbye?” you encouraged.

All Lila could manage was a shy look in his direction. Ben laid a gentle hand on her head, over her dark hair.

“Bye, sweetheart,” he said.

Lila didn’t answer him. She just bit her lip and stayed withdrawn.

You and Ben shared a glance. He was hiding it well behind his usual stoicism, but this was hurting him. There wasn’t much either of you could do about it now, however. You both had work to do, and the mission would have to come first.

“I’ll be online in a bit,” you told him. 

First, you needed to take Lila up to daycare before Frank accompanied you to your office. There you’d be able to join the mission from your computer and put your headset on. Aside from surveillance, you were their virtual eyes on missions. 

So Ben tacitly agreed, and the two of you parted ways.

You went up to the second floor to drop Lila off at daycare, where you set her onto her feet. You could see that she was quiet and almost sad, not as bright and talkative as usual. And she was clinging to your hand. You bent down the best you could in your skirt, so you could meet her eyes.

“Are you still upset with your dad?” you asked. 

After a moment, Lila replied, “Daddy’s loud.”

You couldn’t help a rueful smile. 

“Yeah, he can be,” you nodded. “But he’s gonna work on that, okay? He loves you very much.”

She finally smiled a little when you pressed a few sweet kisses to her cheeks. You felt a little better about leaving her with Sarah, the woman who ran the daycare center. She was kind, but well-organized, and good at her job of wrangling fifteen or so toddlers on a daily basis.

And she was hovering off to the side with a smile, waiting to shepherd Lila over to where the rest of the group were starting at the arts and crafts table.

“Okay, baby. I love you. I’m just downstairs if you need me,” you said, caressing Lila’s cheeks, brushing her hair away from her face.

She nodded and waved goodbye. Sarah then stepped in and guided the girl over to the crafts table. The other kids were already drawing and coloring with crayons and markers.

With a sigh, you knew you had to get to work. You joined Frank out in the hall.

“Did something happen this morning?” he asked. You gave him a weary look.

“Something always happens. I’ll fill you in when we hit the elevator,” you said.

“Kids are resilient. She’ll bounce back,” said Frank, when you two got off the elevator down to the basement, under the first floor. This was where the “heavy stuff” happened at the S.A.

“That’s not the point, Frank. He hasn’t snapped at me like that in a long time, and he really scared her. That’s not fucking okay,” you said. “He needs to learn to control his goddamn temper.”

He sent you a knowing glance. You rolled your eyes.

“Okay, I know I don’t always help. But in this case, I was justified,” you said. “Ben was being an ass.”

“Right,” Frank nodded. “It’s not at all that he’s worried about you.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Whose side are you on?”

The man remained silent, but his stoic face wasn’t fooling you. He’d been your friend for much too long, and he knew Ben just as well…which was why you found yourself reconsidering what happened this morning.

“You really think he has a point?” you asked. “Am I working too much?”

Frank shook his head and opened the door for you into the Surveillance Department. The two of you ventured to your office, where your quadruple monitor setup was waiting for you. He also had a desk for himself, since he often spent the long hours of your day with you.

“When you were pregnant with Lila, you were on maternity leave by now,” he pointed out.

“Because we had no idea what was going to happen,” you countered. You went to your desk and started up your computer. “I had to meet with Tonya once a week, ultrasounds and blood tests all the time, making sure Lila was healthy, that I was healthy. This time around, we have a better idea of what to expect.”

For example, you were experiencing bouts of super strength once again, but it was still intermittent. Although, you pretty much never needed coffee. Maybe the supe genes coursing through your system, thanks to your unborn son, was part of the reason why you’d been able to go such long hours for these cases.

He's already brightening up my life, you thought with a little smile, holding a hand over your lower belly.

“It’s your choice,” Frank said at last. “But it is possible that Ben cares about more than just making you a suburban housewife.”

At that, you sighed. There was nothing wrong with being a housewife, you knew. It just wasn’t…you.

Once your computer and monitors were booted up, you connected to the right channels and put on your headset.

Already you could hear M.M. bitching about keeping the weapons trunk organized, not just tossing things in haphazardly. 

“It’s a simple fucking system, Frenchie. You can at least abide by it,” M.M. said. “We don’t have time to be scratching our asses while you try to find a—”

“Hey, Bert and Ernie. Would you shut the fuck up already?” Ben groused.

Your mouth twitched at his grumpiness.

“A little testy this morning, ey guv?” Butcher remarked.

“Gargle my ball sack,” Ben replied, with an even grouchier deadpan than usual.

“Do you kiss your child with that mouth?” Frenchie teased. 

“Nah, just your mother’s French hole,” Ben slung back. You rolled your eyes. 

“All right, all right. Put the measuring tapes away,” you interrupted. “I’m online, locked on your GPS.”

“Well, if it ain’t Mrs. America herself,” Butcher drawled. “Got a lock on Slingshot’s location for us?” 

“You know it,” you replied. “Sending to the group chat now. Slingshot’s been spotted entering a strip club in Chinatown.” 

“Jeez. A little early for tits and booze. It’s 10:00 a.m. on a Tuesday,” said Hughie.

You heard Ben huff in amusement. “It’s never too early.”

You snorted at that.

“Right. I’ll remember that next time you fall asleep watching Family Feud,” you clipped back.

You heard the other guys trying not to laugh as they got into Butcher’s van. Part of you felt bad for teasing Ben, knowing he was already in a bad mood, but you were feeling a bit petty about what happened this morning.

You had to bite your lip against a smile, as you could picture the ill-tempered face your man was likely sporting.

And we’re off.

Lila wasn’t having a good day. 

She didn’t feel like coloring, and the toys just weren’t fun today.

She just didn’t want to be here. The other kids smelled like old Cheetos and feet (especially the boys).

She missed you. And though she hadn’t wanted to admit it to you, she missed Daddy too.

Lila wanted to go home…she wanted her mom. 

“I’m just downstairs if you need me,” you’d said.

Lila had a kind of plan percolating in her mind, all through the morning, and even through lunch time. She didn’t want to get in trouble, but when she’d asked Miss Sarah if she could go see you, she’d said you were at work and couldn’t come get Lila until later. 

But that’s not what Mommy said, Lila thought.  

After lunch, she laid on the napping mat with her pillow and blanket, even though she was wide awake. She didn’t want to nap with the other kids, even though Miss Sarah told her it was time to sleep. 

Again, Lila didn’t want to be bad. She didn’t want to get in trouble either, but she really, really just wanted to see you.

And you’d said it was okay to go downstairs if she needed you, right?

Lila closed her eyes while Miss Sarah was looking, but she waited until the teacher went into her office to answer a call. Then, Lila carefully put Charlie, her stuffed dog, against her pillow, tucking the blanket up to his neck. 

She crawled off her mat and snuck over to the door while Miss Sarah was distracted on her phone. Lila reached up and was just tall enough to twist the doorknob. It led her out of the room, and out into the empty hall. She then looked both ways for a clue on where to go. 

She heard a ding, and looked over at a nearby pair of elevators.

The mission went more or less according to plan. Slingshot’s abilities allowed him to stretch every part of his body like elastic. It not only made him hard to catch, but even harder to maim without collateral damage. 

A whole block in Chinatown was wrecked in the takedown, but your idea of ripping the cables from a nearby utility pole to electrocute him let Ben finally subdue the elastic supe. Kimiko knocked him out, and Butcher slapped some tight-ass cuffs on him and dragged him into the van. They returned with the rogue supe in custody. 

You were mentally exhausted from helping them track down routes to pin down Slingshot, but you were relieved to be done. You were also satisfied that another danger to society was neutralized, for now.

You took pride in your work, and you didn’t think Ben saw that, or thought it was important. You supposed that was what upset you the most about that fight with him.

Sometimes, you wondered if he would ever truly change.

You grabbed your purse and made sure to slip in your gun and taser. You left your office and greeted Frank, who had just finished making his rounds in the building with Loco’s team. Frank joined you on the way to the elevator.

“I meant to ask you, how’s Alana doing?” you asked. Alana was his daughter, who was now in college.

“She’s changed her major yet again,” he said wryly. “This time to philosophy.”

“Philosophy? That’s interesting. What does she want to do with that?” you asked.

“No fucking clue,” he replied, hitting the button for the first floor. “I just hope she gets bored and picks something practical. Like…teaching, or dentistry.”

You shot him a bemused look. “Dentistry?”

“As much money as I put into that girl’s braces, it’d be good for her to pay it forward,” Frank said, in a surly tone that reminded you of Ben. You had to laugh.

You and Frank exited the elevator and started down the hall.

You planned to touch base with Grace Mallory on the safety measures of Slingshot’s containment before he was put into custody. The idea was to house him in a prison cell that could actually hold him until he went through the legal process. 

But you’d only gotten halfway down the hall before the supe in question literally stretched past you on unnaturally long legs—in a blur of his white and blue supe suit. Your eyes widened on a gasp as you watched him head toward the elevator you’d just come off of. 

“Fuckin’ hell, we’ve got a runner!” Butcher shouted from down the hall. He along with Ben, M.M., Frenchie, Hughie, and Kimiko were rushing your way. 

It all happened so fast. 

You registered Frank shooting out a protective arm in front of you. You turned back to see the elevator doors had opened back up, and Slingshot rushed inside. He made eye contact with you.

Then his arms shot out like rubber bands. One of them knocked Frank into the far wall. You gasped and froze on reflex. 

Ben shouted your name; he was running towards you, getting closer. You were able to meet his wide eyes for a brief moment. He reached out for you, but those stretching arms closed around you first. You gasped when they slung you backwards.

You cried out in shock when your back met a surprisingly solid chest.

Meanwhile, Ben barreled the rest of the way down the hall as the elevators closed just short of his angrily furrowed face.

The stretched arms holding you were tight around your torso, making your grit your teeth as you tried to pull away. They twisted you around so you could face your captor. Or so he could see you.

His natural height was around Butcher’s—dark hair, blue eyes, angular features. He gave you what was probably meant to be a suave smile as those baby blues dragged down your body.

“Hey, baby. Nice heels,” he said. You rolled your eyes.

“So that’s why they call you Slingshot,” you said, still a bit breathless. The elevator started to move. He’d chosen the top floor. “Where do you think you’re gonna go?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he snarked. “Anywhere but here. And you’re gonna help me.”

“How? Being a human shield?”

“For a start,” he smirked down at you. He backed up a step just to take another proper look at you, and he whistled lowly. He took your chin between his sweaty fingers, making you grimace when he stroked your cheek. 

“Down boy,” you said warily. “Trust me, you really don’t want to do this.”

This jackass hadn’t even realized you had a small, but noticeable baby bump.

“Why not, babe?” he grinned. “You’ve got the whole sexy librarian thing going on.” 

You heard a loud creaking sound outside the elevator doors. The compartment itself came to an abrupt stop, making the lights flicker. 

“What the fuck?” Slingshot muttered. His hold around you loosened. 

You had an idea of what just happened, with grim satisfaction. You also took advantage of his distraction and managed to slip a hand into your purse.

You pulled out your taser. Slingshot noticed and tried to grab you again, but the elevator somehow started to move in reverse, about a foot a time. It made both of you lose your balance and utter sounds of surprise.  

As soon as you regained your footing, you aimed the taser at the most sensitive place you could think of—the supe’s dick and balls.

His howls of pain were loud enough to reach Ben, Frank, and the rest of the team on the third floor. Ben’s face became edged with a smirk. 

He kept pulling the elevator cables down until the compartment’s doors were in reach. There he grabbed the doors and pulled them open with his bare hands, crunching metal under his fingers. The moment he saw you, the relief in your eyes, he grabbed your hand and pulled you out, into his arms. 

Slingshot was angry, though he managed to recover, rip off the taser’s metal prongs and wires, and evade Kimiko, M.M., and even Butcher when he slithered his way out of the elevator and around their guns. The bullets ricocheted off the walls, and off his body as they followed him down the hall.

Ben focused on you. He brushed his half-gloved hands over your shoulders and sides while he quickly looked you over. There was worry in his eyes, disguised as anger. You caught your breath and held a protective hand over your lower belly out of reflex. 

“You okay?” he said, but you were already nodding before he asked.

“I’m fine,” you replied. “Just get him. I’ll get Lila.” 

Ben nodded. He shot one last firm look at Frank, who was back at your side. Frank laid a hand on your shoulder as Ben took off down the hall to find Slingshot. 

“The stairs are safer at this point,” Frank said. 

“I would have to agree,” you said, steeling yourself with a breath. 

While you and Frank went downstairs to the second floor, you didn’t see the second elevator ding, its doors opening to your daughter, who ambled out alone. She looked one way down the hall, but hearing her father’s voice carrying down the opposite way, she started venturing in that direction.

If she couldn’t find you, then she’d find her dad. 

“What the hell do you mean you lost her?” you shouted at Sarah, the woman who was supposed to be looking after your daughter. “How do you lose a three-year-old at nap time? What kind of incompetent fuck are you?”

Yes, Ben had unfortunately rubbed off on you. 

Sarah was in tears by the time you were not even halfway done, but Frank calmed you down with another touch to your shoulder. You had tears of panic stinging in your eyes when you met his gaze, your mouth trembling.

“I just radioed in and put Loco and the rest of the security team on looking for Lila. She can’t have gotten far,” he said. 

“Come on! Keep up with me, old man,” Slingshot taunted at Ben. His super flexibility allowed him to keep several steps ahead, dodging any attempts to grab him and any weapons fired with easy dips and playful deflection. 

“When I get my hands on you, you flaccid fuck, you won’t know your ass from your ball sack,” Ben growled. 

But he crashed into the wall when he took a corner too hard trying to tackle the other supe. He picked himself up from the debris of crumbled wall and plaster, ignoring Kimiko’s offer of a helping hand. 

“Big fucking talk from the walking AARP commercial,” Slingshot snorted. He turned around and once again prepared to run. “Try not to shatter a hip, asshole!”

He took off down another bend in the hallway. Meanwhile, Ben shook himself off and joined the others in running after this cocksucker. Ben looked over at Butcher.

“What’s your fucking plan?” he grated out. 

Butcher seemed to have an idea growing in his mind. “What’d she do to him in that elevator?”

“Tased his dick, by the sound of it,” Ben replied. He knew what weapons you kept in your purse, and that you'd know better than to fire a gun in an enclosed elevator. Butcher snapped his fingers.

“Electricity. Bloody brilliant,” he said. He pointed at Hughie and grabbed Frenchie by the collar. “You, with me. I’ve got an idea. The rest of ya, get him pinned down.”

“Easier said than done, motherfucker,” M.M. grumbled. But he followed Ben and Kimiko to find their errant supe. 

Slingshot played a cocky game, but inside, there was fear. 

They’d caught him once, and now, this building was crawling with security, let alone the assholes chasing him.

He was panting for breath when he nearly ran straight into…a kid? 

She was wandering around, trying to open a locked door. He skidded to a stop in front of her, and she looked up at him wide-eyed. He tilted his head. She was a cute little thing with brown hair and green eyes. She wore a blouse with cartoon ducks on it over her jeans and sunshine-yellow shoes. 

“Hey, cutie. Where you going?” asked Slingshot. “Are you lost?”

“Looking for my mom,” she answered, a bit timidly. The supe gave her an easy smile; inside, he knew he’d just found his collateral, and his ticket out of here. 

“Okay. What’s your name?” he asked. 

“L…Lila,” she said. 

“Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he said, with all due charm. He struck a pose, with his fists held up to his waist. “I can help you, Lila. I’m a superhero.”

Her eyes widened. “Really? Like Daddy?”

“Oh, yeah. Your dad and I are friends.” Never mind that he had no fucking clue who her daddy was. He offered her his hand. 

Now, Lila knew not to talk to strangers, but if he knew her dad… 

After a moment of reluctant indecision, she took his hand. Slingshot tapered a smirk into a more friendly smile. 

“Let’s go find him.”  

Ben was ahead of the pack, but he soon came to an abrupt stop with wider eyes. He finally found Slingshot, except he had Ben’s daughter by the hand. Slingshot wore a cocky grin as he took the child up into his arms. 

“Hey, guys. Who’s this little peanut belong to?” he asked. “Said she was looking for her daddy.” 

Ben’s breath turned to lead in his lungs. Lila’s eyes lit up with recognition when she saw him. 

“Daddy!”

Ben’s softer gaze shifted from her, hardening once it reached the other supe. 

“Let her go,” he growled lowly. 

Slingshot’s grin deepened incredulously as he laughed.

“Oh shit, she’s yours?” he exclaimed. “This’s just too fucking perfect.”

“Lila!” your shout came from behind Ben, and you stepped around M.M. and Kimiko.

Ben held out a hand to keep you at bay. He kept his eyes on Slingshot, but Ben heard your gasp. His stomach dipped, knowing your worry had to be reaching new heights as you took in the situation.

“Ben,” you uttered. 

“I’ve got this,” he said to you.

“You don’t got shit, old man,” Slingshot snapped. He shot you a smirk next. “She’s your bitch? Figures.”

“Just let her go,” you implored. You had tears brimming in your eyes. “We can negotiate your release if you promise to be more responsible.”

Ben shot you a glance then. He didn’t intend for this fucker to live, let alone walk the streets of New York again. But he supposed any bluff was worth it at this point.

Meanwhile, seeing the distress on her parents’ faces made Lila begin to break down into tears. She whined, pushing against the supe holding her, wanting to be let go. 

“It’s okay, sweetie,” Slingshot cooed. “You’re just gonna take a little trip with me.”

“No!” a ragged shout tore from your throat when he took a few backward steps down the hall. 

Ben held you back from following him, all while he tensed with rage. M.M. and Kimiko were also poised to try and stop the supe. But Slingshot tightened his hold on Lila in warning.

“Back the fuck off,” he demanded. “Once I get to JFK and get my ass on a plane, maybe, maybe you see your daughter aga—”

He had to stop short, as he sensed something just outside of his peripheral vision.

It was Butcher, coming at him to swing a baseball bat at the supe’s head.

You screamed in protest, but Butcher was relying on the supe’s reflexes to dodge the bat. He wasn’t disappointed. Slingshot dodged. Though in his distraction, it gave Ben the opening he needed to step into his orbit and land a solid punch across Slingshot’s face.

It not only cracked his jaw, but also caught him off guard enough for his grip on the child to loosen. Ben grabbed his daughter and turned her away in a protective embrace.

Then Frenchie brought Slingshot down with the prongs of a massive taser clipping onto his nipples. He jolted and screamed—and went down hard on the tile floor. 

While Hughie and M.M. ushered in the rest of the security team to swarm in and take the supe into custody, you raced forward to Ben and Lila in tears.

Lila was also crying and clinging to Ben’s neck, shaking like a leaf.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” he said quietly, so only she could hear. Lila whimpered and burrowed tighter against his neck.

Tears streamed down your face, but you tried to breathe through it. You rubbed her back and checked her over, making sure she wasn’t hurt. 

For Ben, the force of his relief was pounding in his ears. He briefly closed his eyes as he held his daughter closer. 

When he opened them again, he met your gaze. You couldn’t speak. All you could do was grab onto his wrist for support. He gave that to you, wrapping his free arm around your waist and pulling you into his side. 

“Frank,” he said. His voice was a sharp command. The other man was ready to carry out whatever Ben asked. He also looked relieved to see that Lila was all right.

“Pull the car around,” said Ben. Frank nodded, and went to do just that.

Ben turned to watch in satisfaction when Frenchie and M.M. hauled up a still twitching Slingshot. Butcher slapped a pair of electroshock handcuffs on him that would keep him better contained this time—courtesy of the S.A. armory. He nodded over at Ben, and the latter returned the gesture. 

You missed it all, as you were preoccupied with comforting your daughter.

“It’s okay, honey. We’re going home,” you gently whispered to Lila, who was still hiding her face in Ben’s neck. You shared a look with him, and he gave you a short nod. His hand moved to the small of your back, both protective and possessive as the three of you moved towards the garage exit. 

There Frank waited with the car that would take your family home.

You watched Ben with the beginning of tears brimming in your eyes. You managed to hold them at bay while he set Lila down in her bed. You’d just finished giving her a bath and helping her get into her pajamas after a quiet, somewhat tense dinner. 

Lila still seemed upset in her unusually quiet mood, which you knew was understandable. Ben sat at her bedside and soothed a hand over her head, brushing her cheek with his thumb. 

“You’ve had a crazy friggin’ day, huh?” he asked. Lila didn’t want to look at him, but he encouraged it with gentle fingers brushing her chin, teasing the tip of her nose. She hinted at a smile and finally met his eyes. He smiled back at her, if more reserved. But his expression turned serious again.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. He could see it. She had been more or less fine throughout dinner, but now she’d turned quiet and withdrawn again. She only got like that when she was upset about something.

Lila toyed with the ear of her stuffed animal, Charlie. Frank had retrieved it for her from the daycare.

“Sorry I talked to strangers,” Lila mumbled.

You had to bite the inside of your lip so you wouldn’t cry. You came over to sit on the other side of her bed. You sniffed and shook your head, but Ben beat you to what you wanted to say. 

“You’re not in trouble, all right? We’re not mad,” he said. 

Lila’s lower lip wobbled. Ben sighed and picked her up, plopping her down in his lap. She hugged him as tight as she could and he held her back, warm and secure.  

“You know I’m always gonna be there to keep you safe. You never have to worry or be afraid,” he said. 

You carded your fingers through Lila’s hair so she knew you were there too. Usually, the roles were reversed, where you were doing the comforting and Ben was the solid support. Right now though, you just didn’t have the words. Not when guilt was eating you from the inside out.

Fortunately, your husband did have the words, after he heaved a sigh. 

“I might raise my voice, sometimes, but uh…you never have to be afraid of me either. Okay?” he said.

"Mhmm," Lila agreed.

You laid hand on Ben's arm, gently squeezing. He met your gaze, and knew what you were prodding with just that look in your eyes.

Briefly, he hesitated before he looked back down at his daughter.

"I'm sorry I scared you," he said.

Lila nodded against his chest. “It's okay.”

“Good,” he said, laying a kiss on her forehead. “All right, you ready to go to bed?”

She clung to him and made a sound of refusal. 

You were finally able to crack a smile. You leaned down by her ear. 

“You want Daddy to read you a story first?” you asked. 

Ben shot you a look at the way you volunteered him for that. He was tired and drained. 

But one hopeful, shiny look from his daughter, and he folded like a deck of cards.

Later, when Lila was asleep, you tucked her in one last time and Ben turned out the light. He kept the door cracked open, just in case she called for either one of you tonight.

Then, somehow, you and Ben ended up in the kitchen instead of the bedroom. As exhausted as both of you were, you needed this moment to decompress, with one of your old favorite pastimes…

He broke out the whiskey while you found an appropriate midnight snack, and then a seat with him at the breakfast bar. The two of you shared a companionable silence, as well as a large bag of sea salt and vinegar chips. 

That was sort of how you felt inside.

“Today can’t happen again,” Ben said, breaking the silence. 

You looked over at him, but he was looking beyond you. Maybe so he didn’t have to show you how deeply he’d been rattled. You knew him far too well for that. 

“Of course not,” you replied. And you released a sigh. “So here’s what I’m thinking. From now on I’ll work from home, so I can watch Lila until she goes to preschool.”

Ben got ready to argue, but you held up a hand. The other went to rest over your belly. You had scheduled an ultrasound with Dr. Tonya Baker tomorrow, just to make sure all was well after this ordeal.

“I already plan to take my maternity leave when this guy rolls into town,” you said with a smile. “Then, when I’m ready, and if it’s feasible, I can continue to work from home until all the kids are in school.”

Ben’s lips twitched humorlessly. He should’ve known you’d continue making this a negotiation. He set down his glass, and he reached out to slide a hand over yours, across your belly. He took in a deep breath. But when he let it go, you sensed you still hadn’t convinced him.

“Listen, I know you don’t want me to work—” you began.

“It’s not that,” he said. He made sure you looked him in the eyes when he said it. “It’s not.”

Despite yourself, you read the sincerity in his words. It had you pausing, waiting for him to continue.

“You know damn well…that just being around me is dangerous,” he said. “To you, and to Lila. But you being connected with Supe Affairs, working these missions, even from behind a desk, it’s a fucking risk. It’ll always be a risk.”

You considered that with new understanding. You took his hand with both of yours.

“Ben, this life, this work…it’s the same for me as it is for you. It’s all I know how to do. It’s what I’m wired for. So that’s why it’s hard for me to turn down that dial,” you explained. “But look, I understand what you’re saying. Believe me, I do. And today…today was…”

Your breath hitched as tears stung in your eyes. Ben shook his head and tugged you closer.

“Come ‘ere,” he said.

You left your chair to go to him. You stood between his long legs while he pulled you into a warm embrace. Logically, you knew that what happened today wasn’t your fault. However, part of you still felt like a failure of a mother for underestimating the risks of having your daughter at the S.A.  

You should’ve known better, you berated yourself. And yet, it was Ben’s words that stopped your train of thought.

“Today wasn't on you,” he said. "Get that thought outta your head."

He knew you well too, and this was one of those times. You wept harder against him, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. He held you, comforted you until you began to calm down.

“Take your maternity leave early,” he said. His deep voice was a rumble. “You’re going to have your hands full with Lila when I’m not here. Unless we hire someone to help you.”

It was an idea you could consider, but who could you trust? That was the question. 

Maybe your mother? you thought. You knew she was thinking of retiring from her job in a couple of years anyway.

You sighed and slipped your fingers through Ben’s hair. Your hand came to rest on the back of his neck as you leaned against him.

When Lila came into your lives, you had been so excited to start a family that you hadn’t considered the non-physical side effects. Namely, the sacrifices you would have to make in order to keep your family safe. 

Before you met Ben, your job was your life. But today reminded you that your daughter…and your unborn son, were more important to you than your job. No matter how important that job might be for the rest of the world. 

“Let’s talk about this more tomorrow,” you said, shaking your head. “I can’t think anymore.”

After a beat of hesitation, he agreed with a nod. Like so many battles before, whatever compromise you and Ben finally reached would be hard won. His hand found your cheek and caressed your skin.

“You still try my fucking patience, you know that?” he muttered.

You smiled tiredly. “Did you really expect that to change?”

He scoffed. Even so, he guided you off his shoulder so that he could claim your lips. His kiss tasted like the burn of whiskey. You met his demanding lips in kind, though you were the first one to part from him slowly. 

“I love you,” you whispered a reminder. 

Ben nodded and pressed a kiss to your forehead. He lingered there for a moment, as if he could pause the world for a while. 

He eventually let out a breath through his nose and allowed himself to be honest.

“I love you too,” he said.

With that shared understanding, he stood from his seat. He drained the last of his glass before he bent to gather you up into his arms. You yelped in surprise, clinging to his shoulders.

“Time for some rest,” Ben said. There was a certain smile on his face, gentler than usual.

He forged a path towards the bedroom. You sighed and laid your head against his chest. 

For once, you didn’t argue with him.  

AN: I've been wanting to put this one out for a while now. 💚💚 I so hope you enjoyed this chapter of the BMD verse! Do you like how their little family is evolving? 😘

Keep Reading in the BMD-verse:

Aside from the major one-shots and mini series within the BMD-verse, there are some fun Imagines and Headcanons as well. Remember to check back on the series masterlist for more BMD stories.

▶️ Break Me Down Masterlist

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Break Me Down Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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[rubyvhs]

remedy (iv) — sam winchester

> prev , series masterlist

summary: maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to go back to sam’s place. or maybe it’s a good thing you did — tags: underage!reader, 22 year old!sam, med student!fem!reader, cursing, mentioned praying, canon divergence.

There’s a man, a very beautiful one, sure, standing in Sam’s apartment. His eyes are hungry as they glide over you. His… eyes. That seem way too similar to those the man next to you owns yet so different. His are a bright green for one, you’re scared to stare too long in them incase they grow trees. Cliche? Doesn’t matter, it’s the truth, they’re so green.

You can’t hear what’s going on, but him and Sam seem to have a full on conversation with no words. Maybe the other guy won because he takes the step forward as Sam sighs and shuts the apartment door behind you guys. You keep your hand close to your purse and you can feel it vibrate vigorously, you’re sure it’s Jess wanting information on what the fuck you’re doing at Sam’s house— which great question, what are you doing here?

Cause you were thinking talk, eat, make out, not particularly in that order. Now it seems ‘talk to random guy while you try not to have a panic attack’ has been added to the list. Well, too bad, the list is exclusive. “Now who are you?”

Sam says your name through gritted teeth, “this is my brother Dean.” You swallow your fear and nod once. Introducing yourself despite Sam having done it a second before. “What are you doing here, man?” Sam walks away from the door to throw his car keys onto the counter, a few feet away from you, closer to Dean.

“Doesn’t matter now, seems like you’re busy,” and he’s actually smirking. At you. Why is it kind of attractive— no, focus! Focus on your surroundings, and count to ten so you don’t explode. “Of course, I wouldn’t dream of taking him away from you, sweetheart.” Dean says so sweetly that you actually believe it’s for your own benefit, he’s closer now, both hands hovering over your arms but not exactly touching which you’re grateful for. 

You smile tightly and look up at Sam in a silent call for help. “Why are you here, Dean?” He repeats sternly and crosses his arms at his brother. You’ve always noticed how small Sam makes himself when he’s talking to other people, mostly girls, like he doesn’t want to overpower them when he easily could, it helps calm you down, for sure, but when he’s doing it with his brother, it’s different. 

It’s out of love, devotion, trust. And it’s scary to see because you feel like you’re watching a scene that’s not yours to analyze. But he’s letting you. Dean winks at you once before turning around to face Sam. 

“Let’s talk. Privately.” Dean clicks his tongue in the direction of Sam’s room and he agrees, moving over to you again, putting both hands on your shoulder. It has the opposite effect that dean’s had on you. It’s calming— sedating. 

“You stay in my room, I’ll come get you.” And then he steals glances around your whole face, like he’s studying your features, “do you wanna leave? I can drive you home.”

You open your mouth to protest before shutting it again. Does that mean he wants you to leave? Is it an indirect un-invitation? He looks sincere though. “I’m askin’ ‘cause I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable. Nothing else.”

You take a breath before shaking your head, then decide to use your voice like the big girl you are— because otherwise you’re a toddler, scared by her fathers side at the mall. “Yeah, I’ll stay in your room. But if you want me to leave, Sam—.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He gives you a half smile but it’s enough to melt your insides. “You can use whatever you want in there, and the Wi-FI’s password is written on the wall.” You all but run into his room and away from the two brothers, shutting the door with a loud slam. 

This is super normal and not at all worrying. You should text your mum in case it’s the last time. Hold that thought— Jessica first. 

As promised, the password is on the door, written in a paper stuck on the back of it. You put it in then text Jess back.

Jess: What is happening!!!!

Jess: What’s happened to ‘never gonna happen’.

Jess: Are you fucking? Don’t tell me.

Jess: Don’t fuck him!!!! He could be not single.

What. The. Hell. 

You: What?

Jess: Thank fuck. You’re not having sex, right? Or did he finish already? Jess: He used to be better at it.

You: What do you mean he’s not single?

Jess: Not saying he isn’t but Gen says he’s been talking to some girls, it’s why she was worried about you going out.

Jess: We don’t know if he’s just friends with these girls or not but she says he’s been texting + going out with Lily.

You: Oh but they’re project partners.

Jess: Yeah they just got assigned today. They’ve been going out alone for a few weeks now.

You: Before or after the party?

Jess: Since before. They didn’t stop after the party either. 

God, you’re going to be sick. Great so he’s dropping off the face of the earth with his brother, but before he does that he’s breaking your heart. ‘Cause why the fuck do one when you can do both? 

And the worst part is you have no reason to be upset about any of this. He doesn’t owe you an explanation about Lily or Dean or whether or not he’s taking the semester off or if he’s staying after graduation— it’s all a lot. You thought this would be the beginning of something. Something worthwhile, and he was having fun, just passing the time.

You enter the bathroom to make sure your makeup is still intact. It isn’t, but you did it up quite quickly and have enough time to snoop around. You can cry over a man when you’re alone in the comfort of your room, not his. Even the room is so perfectly him. There’s pictures almost everywhere and you remember hearing him or Jess mention how much he’s into photography, took after his mother. He’s in only two of the pictures. 

One of them has Dean and an older man you assume is their father. The other is him and Jess, back from when they’re dating— other than that it’s mostly scenery and his friends. There’s even one of Jess and Gen with your best friend laying her head on Gen’s lap. 

You’re about to ruffle through the desk when you hear rustling and a loud groan from one of the boys. Then another and— oh fuck. Oh fuck oh fuck, are they fighting?

When you’re mother first equipped you for America she had two rules:

Don’t speak to strangers.

Hold rocks in your purse to hit said stranger if they want to fight.

That’s really all, and you’ve held up your end of the deal. But she never really told you what to do when the stranger isn’t a stranger and you’re actually in their house and he’s fighting his brother. 

You peek through the window and— nope, you’re on the third floor. Too far away to jump. Maybe you should try to rummage around here for a cigarette? Yeah, that’s a good idea. You desperately go through drawers without actually going through them— you don’t want to invade his privacy, just find the damn pack you know he has around here— oh, a disposable. Okay, pOtato, potAto.

You take a second to pray that it’s not dead before taking a drag and, thank God, blueberry. Huh, seems like Sam has a preference. Maybe he asked Jess to bring blueberry cigarettes last time, now that would be a turn of events. And it would also mean he lied to you, how are you supposed to feel about that? About the same way you feel about him hanging out with Lily? He never mentioned it. And back at the mall he said ‘I don’t wanna leave you’, what, did he say that to Lily too? Is he trying out to become an anchor? 

You take three more drags before the door is thrown off its hinges and Sam stomps right through it and into his bathroom. Oh. He doesn’t even spare you a glance and you find yourself looking for dean. He’s right there, breathing just as heavily as Sam was, but that didn’t stop him from sending another wink your way, a little slow and lazy.

For the first time in your life, you decide to muster up enough courage to walk over to him, offering his brother’s vape to him. Look at that, your mother did teach you manners.

He shakes his head and takes a step back to lean on the kitchen counter. The support is welcomed by his whole body as he almost collapses into it. “We didn’t scare you, did we?”

Fuck yeah, you’re scared. Who does this dude think he’s talking to? An FBI agent? You’re a college girl studying Med, hearing police sirens while you’re walking at night creep you out.

But you shake your head anyways because, again, manners. “Are you okay?” You ask with genuine concern. You step a little closer to examine the bruise on his head, right below his hairline. 

Does that mean that Sam had a matching one? Should you go help him?

“Sam’s fine.” Oh. That’s good.

“But you’re not. Do you know where he keeps his first aid kit? I can clean it up for you.” Dean adamantly shakes his head, making you frown. Wasn’t he hitting on you minutes ago? Now he doesn’t wanna touch you? “Dean, are you sure? You should really clean that up. It might get infected.” Highly unlikely but it’s not good to keep it unsterile anyways.

“I’m fine,” he grits out, but it’s not as harsh as you expect. He’s just overwhelmed, maybe, or angry. At himself? At Sam? At you for intruding? And then he sighs, takes an incredibly deep breath like it’s taking everything in his soul and mind to say, “‘fine, yeah, you can do it.” As if you offered to blow him or something. Grow up, man, you were just trying to help.

Again, manners. So you keep your polite tone as you ask him again for the first aid kit and he says this is his first time here. Great, you’re both strangers in Sam’s home but at least one of you was invited, Dean.

“You don’t seem to like me very much.” He says quietly as you keep opening and shutting drawers. Sam’s a responsible guy, he must have something lying around. 

“I don’t not like you. I just don’t know you. And Sam is my friend who you just beat up so I’m not exactly fond of you at the moment, no.” Honesty’s great. Yeah, give it right to the man who’s a couple inches taller than you and packing on more muscle than you can imagine yourself having if you workout for ten years straight. Smart ideas all around, really. 

You take another longer drag this time. The buzz is worth it, it’s helping you relax enough that you’re not about to blow your head off about being in Sam’s house with Dean.

Another hit: from both the vape and Dean, “He hit me first.”

“Did you provoke him?” Dean shrugs like a child trying to feign innocence. It’s obvious this is all Dean’s fault and he knows it, you just wish you knew the reason. “Why, though? What happened?”

He hesitates then shuts his mouth closed. Now he chooses to be a good brother?

You find the first aid kit under all the drawers (which, fuck you, Sam, why would you do that?) and ask Dean to sit on one of the chairs. He obeys and you start to take out the rubbing alcohol, “this part will sting a little, so try to hold on to something— not me!” You shriek when his hands land on your waist. 

“Closest thing,” he shrugs like it’s nothing and you take a deep breath, applying more alcohol to the cotton. He can take it.

He doesn’t groan out when you pat the cotton onto the small wound, just hisses. The man hisses like he just got cold coffee spilled on him, the wound isn’t massive or anything, but really? How high is someone’s pain tolerance to be able to do that? 

You don’t want to think about it because tolerance is built. And that’s just… not a fun thing to ponder on. You try to finish as quickly as possible and half way through his hands on your waist don’t bother you anymore, a minute after, he eases them off. Dean doesn’t seem like he wants to cause issues, he’s just… troubled. Though you’re sure he’d deck you twice as hard as he did to Sam if you mention that.

Speaking of the devil, he’s out of the bathroom with fresh clothes but it’s apparent he didn’t shower. Just in his home clothes. Cute considering you’re not which means you’re overdressed between the three of you. You finish Dean up and place a bandage on the bruise. “There!” 

You smile as you examine your work and move back. Your first ever patient! It’s exciting to think you did so well without any guidance even when your hand was shaking the whole time. “Thanks, angel, where’d you learn that?”

“Angel?”

“She’s in Med. What are you still doing here, Dean?” Sam’s voice is rough, like he’s been shouting. Were they yelling? How did you not hear them? 

Oh, the buzz. Would giving Sam the Dispo now be rude? Come to think of it, taking it was rude. Oh, God, is this what stealing feels like?

“Hey,” Sam calls your name and you snap out of it, whipping your head back to face him. “You okay?” He’s wearing a black shirt. Just plain black, which is tight in all the right places, and grey sweatpants. Grey sweatpants. Who on this earth sold this man grey sweatpants? What were they thinking? They weren’t obviously, but you are. You can see it clearly now: College Girls Drop Dead At The Hand Of A Sam Winchester. Reason Of Death: The Sweatpants. 

“You okay?” Why is he asking again? Were you staring? 

“I’m fine. Are you?” You walk away from Dean and his magnetic hold on you to check Sam out. Last time you touched him was— never. He’s always touched you first. So… here goes nothing. You had your hands up for a second, asking for permission, consent, whatever, and his gaze switches from your eyes to your lips then back again so you take it as a yes and move his hair from his face. 

There are no injuries, you’re sure of it, but maybe you should run your hands through his hair just in case. For his safety. You drop your hands like it’s on fire before you actually do it and smile up at him. “Good, you’re okay.” He nods and looks past you, probably at Dean and you sigh. Okay. Night ruined.

“Okay, so, I’m gonna go and I’ll see you—” Sam furrows his eyes brows and shakes his head placing his hands on your shoulders. Again.

“No, no, you said you stay. We agreed to it.”

“Right, but that was before I knew your brother was staying over—”

“He’s not. You can still take Gen’s room. Don’t worry. He’s just leaving, right, Dean?” He bites out and your eyes widen. 

“No, no, Sam, seriously, not a big deal—”

“Do you wanna leave?” How is that relevant! You don’t, honestly. After hearing what Jess had to say about Sam and now Dean’s beat up face, Sam wanting to leave, it’s a lot to process. And you were fine with processing it next to Sam as long as you guys could talk about it but he seems on edge now, erratic, you don’t want to mess with him, or stay in a house alone with him when he’s like this. 

He doesn’t seem like he’ll hurt you, infact, his face softens the second he looks at you, but you can’t risk it. “Sam, it’s not that I don’t want to…” He raises his eyebrows for a second before scoffing letting go of you. “It’s not… it just seems like there’s a lot for you right now, I don’t want to get in the middle of that.”

“I want you in the middle of it.” Is someone escorting Dean out or will you have to confess your feelings in the middle of the crowded kitchen/living room? “But if you want to leave then I’ll drive you, it’s fine. I just need you to know that I want you to stay.”

And with those eyes? Those eyes and that hair falling over those eyes? How can you say no? You let out a shaky breath before throwing yourself into his chest and he easily wraps his arms around you. This is probably the second time you’ve hugged ever, but it’s worth every second because Sam’s so much taller than you in a way that’s comforting beyond belief. Not just because he tries to make himself smaller, but because he carries himself that way too. Small equals ‘there for you’ and ‘your wall’. And he kind of is. His arms are solid against you back and you feel a strand of your hair get caught in between his fingers. 

It doesn’t take a few seconds for you to pull away— both out of respect for Dean and because you don’t want to overdo it with Sam. “I’ll stay. In Gen’s room.” He nods like it’s the end of it but you add, “If you promise me one thing.”

“Anything.”

“Don’t kick me out.” He frowns. You take out the vape from your back pocket, “I found it in your drawer. Sorry.” He smiles and leans down to your ears, “what’s mine’s yours, sweetheart.” He’s saying it to be kind, whatever, but it still makes your heart flutter to hear. 

He points to the room behind his, the only other door in the apartment, says it’s Gen’s room and that the sheets are clean. Which translates to: ‘go inside and I’ll get rid of Dean’.

True to his unspoken words, Dean is gone in less than fifteen minutes and you’re kind of disappointed you didn’t say goodbye. Sam comes into the room to find you on the bed, vape in one hand, phone in the other, texting.

“What’re you doing?” He shuts the door behind him and your eyes skim your surroundings. Alone in a room with Sam. 

“Texting. Jess. She’s been worried the whole night and I didn’t want her to freak out.”

“Oh, why’d she be freaked?” Fuck your brain and your oversharing tendencies and fuck you Sam for being obversant.

“Just— you know—”

“I don’t.” Well, duh, or else you wouldn’t ask, but the answer isn’t one you’re willing to give so you shrug and lean into the bed further, still above the sheets. You can’t believe you’re sleeping in jeans just to stay over at Sam’s. The things you do on low sleep, man. “Are you comfortable?” At least he isn’t a dick that insists on your answer.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just, you’re wearing jeans.” 

“That’s what I came with, yes.”

“Do you wanna change? I can get you something else to wear? Besides, aren't you cold?” He’s right, the only thing that was keeping you warm was the green jacket you had on which was discarded on the chair, leaving you in a tank top. You’re cold, sure, a little uncomfortable, maybe, but enough to take Sam’s clothes… yes, you’d take them even if you weren’t freezing your ass off.

“What do you have?” You smile a little before he points to Gen’s closet and oh. Right. The other girl that lives here. “Sam, no it’s fine, I don’t want to intrude on Gen.” Rummaging through Sam’s thing while he’s in the room next to you is fine, using Gen’s clothes while she’s in another house? Not respectful. 

“She wouldn’t mind—”

“Honestly, I’m not that cold.”

“You’re shivering.” Not to sound like a three year old or anything but someone could practically blow on you and you’d shiver. It's not that serious. But when you tell him that he shakes his head and walks out of the door. Is he pissed off? Like actually genuinely pissed off? Should you look through Gen’s closet for something to wear so he’d be okay? That seems wrong but… it’s his house, his rules.

You’re still heavily overthinking it by the time he comes back and you let out a breath of pure relief. He can’t be that mad if he’s back. And he’s handing you clothes. “Here, mine. So your moral obligations can rest.” You smile and shake your head, getting out of the bed. His hand’s extended so you take it anyways.

“Sam, I’m fine like this—”

“I’m not letting you sleep in jeans, and you can’t convince me to.” You notice his dimples for the first time. Sam is all smiles whenever he’s around people, but you’ve never actually noticed his dimples before, and they’re just as perfect as the rest of him that you’re jealous. And in love, just a little. 

“Sam,” you call out as he turns to walk out. He knows what’s coming. You know what’s coming. Your sister knows what’s coming (you found time to fill her in). “What happened with Dean out there? I thought you said he’d want you to leave. Didn’t you want to go with him?”

His shoulders deflate and he turns around. “It’s nothing, just got rough.”

“Meaning? Come on, he was the whole reason we went out tonight then you find him at your house and you’re not freaked? Tell me what happened.” Pushy is one word to call what you’re doing. Another is fucking annoying. You won’t even say the third.

“Dean’s— Dad. Our Dad is… he’s gone or he’s hiding or something and Dean wants me to look for him.” His dad is lost… as an exterminator? Okay… 

“Why aren’t you guys freaked out?”

“Because he’s usually just takin’ a break from Dean or something but Dean says he’s sure that he’s actually gone missing—”

“Then call the police.” You say obviously and Sam purses his lips. He’s not irritated, but he looks like he doesn’t want to explain the situation to you so you back off. “I’m going to change.” You say as you head for the bathroom door, “but look, Sam, talk to me, okay? If you want. Or Lily or Jess but talk—”

“Lily?” He interrupts with a scowl, a hand coming up to tame his slightly messed up hair. 

“Yeah, you know, your friends.”

“Me and Lily aren’t like… friends friends.”

“I don’t know, people say otherwise,” okay now he’s irritated, “but anyways, none of my business obviously, I’m going to change.”

“Hey, stop doing that. Stop avoiding something the second you say it! Why would you bring up Lily?”

You bite your bottom lip between your teeth and shrug, the clothes suddenly feeling twenty kilograms heavier in your hand. “Jess said you guys have been going out for a while now. Which, you know, I don’t know how she’d feel about me staying over—”

“I told you she’s my presentation partner.” His voice isn’t raised, just seems like he’s trying to understand where you’re coming from and you sound like you don’t want to be having this conversation. Because you don’t. 

“Yeah, but Jess said you’ve been hanging out even before Lily’s birthday party and I just didn’t want to assume or anything, I guess.” He steps closer to you and you contemplate taking a step back but he’s already close enough to touch you now. He takes the clothes in your hands and placed them on the chair next to him. “Sam, it’s fine, obviously, I just don’t want her to be mad.”

“I’m not with Lily, and we’re not dating or anything. We study together sometimes, we’re friends and she’s cool but we’re just that. Friends.” You nod and take a step back to help you breathe better, “I’m not just saying that. We are.”

“You don’t have to convince me of anything, you don’t owe me an explanation.”

“I don’t want you thinking that I like anyone that way,” he says the last word as he moves towards you. You’re trapped between his body and the bathroom door behind you. 

“Like a relationship?” He nods and you consider asking if he thinks of you like that but you couldn’t handle the rejection if you tried. 

You turn the knob around and slam the fucking door in Sam’s face. 

part five; smear the innocence of my lips.

title: beautiful boy by esha tewari

main masterlist

have no idea how I finished this in one sitting. 4k worlds in one sitting is my new record. hope you guys liked this one, I like where it’s going right now but I’m racking my brain for an ending soon if you have ideas tell me.

and if you wanna be tagged for future chapters, comment!

Tag list:

@angzls @chxrrybomb22 @pinkpantheris @ang3ldool @iloveragdollcats 

@oohjana18294 @user-2538484747490203746579403 @wattpaduser200 @s0urw00lf @ashlynyyyyy

@strabarrybat @anu-piyakya97

[goest-and-fuckest-thyself]

Not Without You

Soldier Boy x OC!

Summary: Ben, (Soldier Boy,) is fresh out of cryo in Russia, fresh out of the destruction of the building downtown, and he wants his deserts from Butcher. When he asks for one more condition, Hughie expects another name on the kill list. But when Ben pulls an old photo from his wallet depicting his best friend, the first female Supe, the boys understand that there’s more to this situation than they bargained for. Will they find who Ben is looking for, old and frail? Or will they find a gravestone with her name on it?

Follows the boys plot (mostly) with some interludes for my own subplot.

🔥Warnings!🔥

All my works are 18+ I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR FAKE PAGES AND/OR RESPONSIBLE FOR ANYONE WHO READS MY CONTENT!!! LEGAL USERS BE ADVISED, I SHALL NOT BE HELD RESPONSIBLE FOR FALSIFICATIONS OF AGE ON THIS SIGHT!

CW: Only other thing I can think of is language and slightly asshole-ish themes. (Soldier Boy being mean to Hughie.)

“If you’re looking to play headsman again, bruv, it’s gonna have to wait this time,” Butcher chimed as Hughie gave him an incredulous look. The boy hadn’t much liked Soldier Boy, let alone think it was a good idea to be indulging him so. Now he wanted another person dead? It was too much for poor Hughie too handle.

“S’not like that,” Ben riffled through the box of his old keepsakes and belongings, picking up a wallet. He stood from the table as he unfolded it and picked out an old picture, worn at the edges and yellowed with time.

He handed the picture over to Butcher, who thoughtfully held it before him with a smirk.

“Reminiscent, are we?” the Brit teased as he handed the photo to his young friend. Hughie’s eyes widened before his brow creased.

“I remember her,” the kid mused brightly, “that’s Eris, the first female supe.”

“That’s my best friend, dick-fuck,” Ben snapped at the young man before snatching the photo from his fingers. Ben couldn’t help but stare at the printed image of her face, hoping to see her in person again soon.

“Hate to break it to you mate, but Vought said she died in the same explosion you did. She wasn’t in Russia with ya, and we barely knew where you were. How’re we supposed to know what’s happened to her?” Butcher asked.

Ben’s jaw clenched tightly as anger rose in his chest. He had to remind himself to stay calm, lest his new powers took over and brought down another building. It’s was already enough that Stan had sold him out, but her? Oh, Ben would make Stan and the whole of Vought pay for anything they did to her.

“I don’t give a shit how you do it, just get me the info. Or I’m not helping you with home-fucker,” he demanded.

~*~

With the right people being given the right motivation, meaning threats and a beheading, the team was able to track down info on Ben’s new prize.

The bunker was dark, mildew clinging to the scent of the air like a damp unfinished basement. Ben never cared for the smell, not even as a child when he would escape to the root cellar tunnels and find his way to her house. He didn’t pay much mind to it now, with the electric tingle running up and down his spine distracting him from doing anything but looking around the flashlight illuminated space.

The walls were lined with shelves of boxes, files, even books. Some tables, obviously left hastily abandoned judging by their disheveled state, held open folders and spilled coffee mugs. None of the labels on anything looked remotely interesting or useful to Ben as he made his way deeper into the room. There had to be something here.

“Look at this,” Hughie called from behind Ben’s position in a corridor of shelves. The supe turned to see the young man leafing through an open desk file. Ben’s stomach flipped, stalking back to where the curly headed kid hunched over the table.

“This is it, this is the file,” he told Ben with a smile, “it’s called project Phthalo.”

There was not time to read anything more than the title and her name beneath ‘SUBJECT’ on the page when Butcher called from the back corner of the room.

“I’ll do you one better than files,” He grinned as the two men joined him.

Again, Ben’s stomach twisted in his body, seeing the heavy steel door Butcher had found and now stood in front of. There was a keypad to its right, lit up with a red bulb, just like the ones they’d used in the lab in Russia. He knew as soon as he saw it that whatever was behind the door, would be his answer.

“You sure you wanna open it?” Billy asked, noticing Ben’s face fall as he hesitated to move or blink. This seemed to snap Ben out of his daze and let him nod his approval. With that Butcher wasted no time in shooting out the keypad, allowing the door seal to hiss open.

Stepping aside, Butcher gave Hughie a look, letting the lad know he was expected to hang back a second. He would let Soldier Boy walk into a secret Vought lab headfirst. Hughie in return nodded and stayed next to his friend as they watched the supe shove open the heavy steel door.

All three dropped their lights to the floor as a blue glow emanated from inside the foggy room, cast by a large containment tube. As if bitten by something, Ben stirred into action and ran into the room, dropping his shield as he went. Hughie gave butcher one more confused glance before they were following after Soldier Boy.

Ben couldn’t believe it. He had been thinking the worst, dreading what they would find on this trip, begging and silently pleading with every force of power in the universe that she had somehow survived. He wanted to tell her all the things he was to pussy to tell her for the almost eighty years they’d been friends, he wanted to make sure she knew. She had to know how he felt. It had shattered his heart when Butcher’s little twink told him the story Vought had put out about their deaths. Ben knew they’d probably taken her out because of what she’d do to them in retaliation for the Russia incident. He couldn’t imagine they could control her.

Yet, here he was, dropping to his knees with wide, sad eyes as he stared up at this containment tube. There she was, his best girl; suspended in a thick blue solution of god only knows what as novichok gas flowed from the exhaust pipes around it.

“Holy fucken shit,” Butcher voiced quietly as he stared up at the girl floating in a vat of blue chemicals. He had been expecting to find a body, sure, but not a live one. The man could barely register Hughie nudging his arm next to him, his disbelief and shock overtaking him.

A thought went through Butcher’s head, one that he was sure he would regret having later. He wondered if this would make Soldier Boy easier to control, make him less on edge. Now, as he watched the man crumble to his knees and stare up longing at her, he thought it might.

Ben was shocked out of his foggy mind when he remembered why he was there. “Help me get her outta this,” he demanded, rising to his feet and rounding to the control panels.

“Oh, uh, yeah!” Hugh shook his head and hurried over to try and open the unit.

“You lucked out big time, old man,” Butcher chuckled as he crossed his arms over his chest, earning an eye roll from Ben.

The supe wasted no time in disconnecting every tube not labeled ‘oxygen’, causing the hiss of novichok to cease. ‘Good’ he thought to himself, ‘we can wake her.’ The more he dismantled the machine, the quicker his heart beat. It felt to Ben as if he might explode, reminding himself to breathe and try to relax before he exploded again.

“I got it!” Hughie called enthusiastically, letting Ben’s heart jump in his chest.

It almost happened in slow motion for Ben, reaching forward as the glass door slid to the side as the liquid finally drained from the tube; the way her body slumped forward into his arms, wet and slimy to the touch. His knees hitting the floor as he brought her into his lap, cradling her head in one hand. Everything was surreal until she took in a breath.

Her chest jolted, air entering her in a way she hadn’t felt in decades. Her lungs burned at the feeling, a cough rising in her throat. Her body seized as she coughed up fluid uncontrollably. Ben still trying to calm her with soft touches and quiet words.

“Hey, I’m here, it’s me! Look, it’s me!” Ben’s hand came to cup her head, thumb resting just before her ear. He couldn’t help but smooth the silky white hair that clung to her face away as he stared into her scared and wide blue eyes.

Finally, her frantic gaze landed firmly on his, her breathing finally evening out as she calmed in his arms. Weakly, her left hand reached up to his face, fingers shakily ghosting over the skin just beneath his eyes. She recognised those eyes better than any other pair she’d ever seen. Those were his big green eyes staring down on her with concern. I don’t give permission to reblog or repost my work

“Benny?” She rasped out, throat harsh and dry.

Before she could say another word, she collapsed against Ben’s chest, her obvious fatigue overwhelming her.

“Benny?” Hugh questioned, looking between Soldier Boy and Butcher.

[spnbabe67]

Cry Little Girl, Nobody Does It Like You Do

Kinktober Day 26: Dacryphilia (S.B)

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Original Female Character

Warnings: Smut, PiV, Overstimulation, Edging, Fingering, Oral (F. Rec)

Summary: Part two to She Keeps Me Up

Word Count: 1597

Authors Note: Title inspired by the song Daddy Issues by The Neighborhood.

Their penthouse overlooking the New York skyline was spacious, an entire wall of their bedroom was entirely floor to ceiling windows framed with blackout curtains for those mornings after drinking and snorting too much into their systems. Not that the hangover was anything compared to what they were like back before the Compound V coursing through her veins, but the loud sounds of NYC was already a headache waiting to happen without the factor of drugs and alcohol to contend with. The Alaskan king sat squarely against the far wall of the bedroom, the sheets rarely made with how often they make a mess of them. 

Today wasn’t an exception, the ruffled charcoal sheets embracing Odessa as Ben tossed her onto the mattress. She laughed as she bounced once, twice, before stretching out her arms and legs, her auburn hair fanning out around her head. The metallic clanking of buckles and the hushing of leather and cloth hitting the floor reached her ears as she knew Ben was stripping out of his suit. 

Odessa hummed, a smile curling her lips upwards as the bed dipped below her, Ben’s warm body crawling over her. Her legs fell open to accommodate for his shoulders to notch between them as he kissed his way up her belly, paying attention to every spot, no matter how miniscule, that had her squirming below him, already revved back up. Finally, she was able to savor the feel of his bare body, feel his warmth above her as his mouth found her navel in the form of open mouthed kisses. 

Odessa knotted her fingers in his hair, her other hand gripping the sheets in an attempt to steady herself, to keep herself grounded as Ben chuckled darkly against her belly, green eyed gaze catching hers from between her legs. His arm hooked around her thigh, fingers delving into the patch of neatly trimmed hair at the apex of her thighs, tracing his fingertip against her folds and damn near everywhere but where she wanted him.

“Ben.” Odessa ground out, her hips flexing upwards in an attempt to guide his hand to her heat. “What’d I say about your teasing?” 

“If you tell me what you want I might not hafta resort to teasing.” Ben countered from between her legs, emphasizing his words with a squeeze to her thigh, removing his hand from her heat all together.

“More, Ben. Just touch me goddamnit!” Odessa growled, tugging harshly on his hair, desperately seeking some attention to her throbbing clit. 

She didn’t like his mischievous smirk etched upon his lips, the dangerous glint in his eye right before he pressed on. But Odessa quickly forgot about it at the first pass of his tongue against her soaked core, glistening with her own slick mixed with his spend from their kitchen escapades. At first blush you’d think a guy like Ben would balk at the idea of eating his own cum, but he enthusiastically explored her folds with his tongue, letting the muscle delve into her entrance before dragging upwards to flick her clit. Odessa rutted her hips against his mouth, his trimmed beard scratching the sensitive skin on the inside of her thighs adding to the plethora of overwhelming sensations across her body. Her head fell back against the bed, eyes fluttering shut as that pull in her low belly started to grow tighter and tighter. Almost, almost. 

Then Ben, the bastard, pulled away right as the coil was primed to snap. Odessa propped herself up on an elbow, mouth falling open. “Did you just-”

Her protests were cut short as Ben attached his lips back around her clit, sucking hard. His ministrations pulled breathy moans from her as that wave of euphoria started building again, her shaky thighs growing tight around his head.  Her breathing had long since turned into ragged panting, desperately pulling in as much oxygen into her lungs. Odessa practically vibrated with the anticipation coursing through her system, inching closer and closer to that high. 

“Benjamin!” Odessa followed his name with a string of curses as he pulled away at the last second. 

The son of a bitch had the gall to chuckle against her desperate pussy. Odessa went to pull away, frustrated and thoroughly done with his antics, but he quickly ensnared her hips with his arms, and for all the superhuman abilities granted to her, she wasn’t as strong as him. Again his teeth closed around her clit, pulling a desperate whine from her lips. Her thoughts had started to go lazy, unable to focus on anything other than the feeling of Ben’s hot mouth suckling at her clit, his tongue circling her entrance before plunging it in and out of her. His name fell from her lips encased in a plea for more, more, more. She felt tears prick at the corner of her eyes as finally that ebbing and flowing wave of euphoria crashed over her, a ragged moan clawing its way up her throat, back arching clear off the bed, toes curling

But her relief was short lived as Ben’s mouth continued its assault on her oversensative folds. His iron-clad hold on her hips made it impossible for her to worm away from his relentless tongue continuing to flick along her clit so that her fruitless attempts to squirm away from the overstimulating sensations only made it worse. She choked on a breath as another orgasm sent shocks down her spin. It was so much, the tears that had been pricking at her eyes starting to well up, trickling down the sides of her face.

“Too much. I’s ‘nough.” Odessa slurred, so far gone to form a coherent sentence, blinking away the saltwater brimming in her eyes.

“I thought you wanted more, Dess.” Ben feigned innocent, not bothering to pull his mouth, beard soaked with her slick, far from her core. The rumble of his voice only made the overstimulation worse. “Only givin’ you what you wanted.”

Odessa cursed him, still trying to worm away to no avail. Ben continued his assault, pulling another orgasm from her trembling body until tears streamed down her face and down the apples of his cheeks. At last Ben pulled away from her sopping core crawling up her body, his lips marking his trail. With each new tear rolling down her face she felt his cock twitch against her inner thigh, the tip already weeping with a bead of precum. He dipped his head down to drag the tip of his tongue along the damp tracks her tears had left. Odessa had half a mind to push him off her, say ‘fuck you’ to his teasing. But she wasn't really all that mad, the bastard was too cunning for his own good; he followed her instructions to a ‘T’. 

“Got nothin’ to say now, do ya?” He raised his eyebrows at her as he reached down to guide the head of his cock through her folds, instantly reinvigorating her waning sensitivity. 

She rolled her eyes, pulling him down to kiss her. Odessa could taste her slick strongly on his tongue as she swept her own into his mouth in the same breath his cock bullied its way into her. Her legs fell open to allow his waist to slot between them, his thrusts slow but sharp each time he pistoned his hips into hers. This was entirely for his own gratification, the rhythm he set, how harshly his hips snapped upwards into her, but nevertheless Odessa felt yet another orgasm building at the sensation of his cock brushing every nerve and sensitive spot within her inner walls. She let her nails absolutely dig into his golden and freckled shoulders as his movements became harsher and harsher until she felt him hit his release, coming hard inside her. She’d lost track of how many times her high had shook through her, but for what she hoped was the last time tonight her body tensed, legs locking around his waist as she came with a cry into the crook of his neck. 

Ben pulled out of her, moving to sit at the head of the bed. Odessa rolled onto her stomach, pressing her still damp cheek to his thigh as she rested her head on his leg. She could hear him grab a blunt from their stash in the bedside table, the flicking of the lighter as he lit it. 

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” Odessa teased him, reaching up for the reefer after he took a long drag from it.

Ben blew air from between his lips, passing her the weed before snagging a hold of her leg behind her knee, hauling her further up his body, hooking her leg across his own. “You wouldn’t have looked at me twice in the first place if I wasn’t.”

Odessa huffed an amused laugh. “That’s not true. Besides, you have your moments.”

“Mm, how dare you.” They both shared a laugh as Ben dipped his head down to kiss her, sucking the drug straight from her. 

He gripped her cheeks between his thumb and index finger, eyes intense, laced with a thread of vulnerability only she was allowed to see. “I love you, you know that.”

Her gaze reflected that oh so rare sentiment, softening just enough for them both to feel it. And there was no fear, no hesitancy. “I know. And I love you too.”

“Good.” Ben nodded, removing his grip from her face, instead wrapping it around her waist as they both laid there, watching the sun rise from their bed.

[babyjakes]

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summary | loving husbands jake and ari had always believed they were all each other could ever want or need. but one unusual summer, when their world is turned upside-down by an uncanny girl from down the street, they find that having someone to love, nurture, and care for together is the missing piece that finally completes their perfect family and lives.

characters | caretaker!jake jensen, daddy!ari levinson, wrenley beauchamp (original character)

warnings | mentions/depictions of domestic and sexual violence, mental health themes: anxiety/panic disorders, trauma and post-traumatic-stress, eating disorders (restrictive subtype), therapeutic methods and tools: exposure, age regression. specific warnings included in each chapter

series sections | this series includes two sections. the main series, composed of full-length chapters, will tell the characters’ story of meeting, bonding, facing adversity and challenges, and becoming a family in chronological order, as a traditional chapter book would. egem: little life will be a collection of one shots, blurbs, and headcanons capturing various events and moments throughout the characters’ lives together. please feel free to read these sections in whatever order you’d like; it’s recommended to read at least some of the main series first to grow familiar with the characters, setting, context, etc.

sexual content | egem: little life will include a section of works that explore wren healing her sexual trauma through safe sexual relations with jake and ari. these sexual themes will be limited to safe/consensual sex only (no dark elements, non/dubcon, etc.— though these will appear in the main series as a part of wren’s traumatic experiences, with plenty of trigger warnings included.) works including sexual relations between wren, jake, and ari will be listed in their own section of the masterlist, and all clearly marked as nsfw. please feel free to skip these pieces entirely. they will not impact the overall storyline; therefore, one can read everything else and experience wren’s relationship with jake and ari as completely sfw if they wish.

main series chapters.

1. prologue | 2. the little garden fairy | 3. baby steps | 4. difficult introductions

headcanons.

wren's pink bathroom