Masterlist

Original stories:

Jensen Ackles

Supernatural

The boys

Big Sky

Ten Inch Hero

Tracker

Walker

Dawsons Creek

Jack Dufry

ACOTAR

The soft glow of the television flickered against the walls of Y/N’s small apartment bedroom. She was half-asleep, wrapped in her blankets, when she heard the familiar click of her front door unlocking.

Jensen.

She didn’t even stir. He had a key—he always had a key. And when he didn't he'd found a way.

As little kids their parents were friends, they had sleepovers and play dates and barbecues.

In high school he crawled through her window to have movie nights or just nightly conversations on her bed, he often fell asleep next to her.

And when he moved out, following his dream, and since became the Jensen Ackles, the famous actor, she gave him a key to her apartment, so he'd still have a way into her little world. She supposed that meant something.

The bed dipped beside her, the scent of whiskey and Jensen’s cologne filling her senses. A lazy grin tugged at his lips as he flopped down beside her, fully clothed.

“Jensen?” she mumbled sleepily, rubbing her eyes.

“Hey, sweetheart.” His voice was slightly slurred, his green eyes hazy yet warm as he looked at her. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

Y/N sighed, shifting to sit up. “You’re supposed to be at your bachelor party.”

“I was.” He grinned lazily, stretching his arms above his head. “But it felt wrong, you know? My best friend wasn't there."

"Did Jared bail on you?" She joked

Jensen bumped her arm. "Fine, I meant my best girl wasn't there."

Her heart clenched at his words, but she pushed the feeling away. This was Jensen, her best friend since high school. The man who always found his way back to her, no matter how high his star rose. And tomorrow, he would belong to someone else.

She scooted over, making room for him. Without hesitation, he slid under the covers beside her, his body warm against hers.

The movie on the screen played out a familiar trope—two best friends secretly in love, dancing around their feelings until fate intervened.

Jensen snorted, watching the main characters exchange longing looks. “Come on. This is so unrealistic.”

Y/N smirked, glancing at him. “Oh, because love is so logical?”

“No, but—” he gestured at the screen. “Boy and girl, best friends. Cute, but why do they always have fall in love? That’s Hollywood nonsense. Why can’t they just be friends? Why does one always have to ruin it.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, ever the romantic. “Maybe some people do fall for their best friend. some people don’t realize what’s right in front of them. It’s not about inevitability, it’s about feelings. Real ones.”

He was quiet for a moment before smirking. “We’re living proof it’s fake. Look at us. Best friends for, what, fifteen years? Never crossed a line.”

Something about the way he said it made her chest tighten. “Yeah,” she murmured, voice softer now. “Never.”

After the movie ended Jensen exhaled deeply, turning onto his side to face her. “Remember that camping trip senior year? One tent, freezing cold.”

She smiled at the memory. “We had to share a sleeping bag. Because someone planned a last minute camping trip and forgot his bag.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, and you kept complaining that I was hogging all the warmth. I was just trying to survive. You were a human furnace, Y/N. I had no choice but to steal your heat.”

Y/N felt her face heating up remembering how it felt to sleep in his arms that night.

His eyes darkened slightly, though his smile remained. “Still. We never crossed a line. That means something, right?”

She hesitated. “Want to watch another movie?” Turning away from him so she could grab the controller.

She scrolled mindless through the movies she knew Jensen would liked.

He exhaled heavily, staring up at the ceiling. Then he turned back to her, his voice quieter now. “Do you think I’m doing something wrong?”

Her breath hitched. She stared at him, her mind racing. Did he mean being here with her tonight? In her bed, on the eve of his wedding?

Her heart screamed ‘no’— because she want him there, because she knew he belonged with her. And if he'd give her a change she would do her best to make him feel loved and happy.

“Jensen…” She hesitated, then finally whispered, “Maybe a little... I-I mean..."

Her voice broke."If you were my boyfriend, I wouldn't want you to stay at a girls house, specially not the night before our wedding."

A shadow passed over his face, his lips pressing into a thin line mumbling. "Yeah, the wedding.”

She frowned. “What?”

He exhaled heavily, staring up at the ceiling. “I meant… do you think I'm doing the right thing... marrying Danneel.”

Silence blanketed the room. Y/N’s pulse pounded in her ears as his words sank in. She had spent years locking away feelings she had no right to have. But now, here he was, lying beside her, questioning the biggest decision of his life.

“Jensen,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “You love her.”

“I do,” he admitted, turning onto his side to face her fully. “But it doesn’t feel the way it should. It doesn’t feel like… this.”

Y/N’s breath hitched. "L-like this?"

His fingertips brushed against hers under the covers, the smallest touch, yet it sent her world spinning. "Save."

Y/N kept looking at him, unable to read his expression. Was he teasing her? Did he meant it? Or better yet, how did he mean it?

“Say something,” he murmured, searching her face for answers.

She wanted to. God, she wanted to tell him everything—that her heart had been his since high school, that she had been waiting for him to see her the way she saw him. But what could she say now, on the night before his wedding?

“You’re drunk, Jay,” she whispered, though even she didn’t believe the excuse. “You should go to sleep.”

But Jensen didn’t want to. He whispered, his fingers still tracing hers. “I just… I always thought I’d find a girl who’s a little more… you.”

She swallowed hard. “Why?” she whispered, barely able to form the word.

“Because everything comes so natural with us,” he admitted, his voice rough with honesty. “I don’t need to think about what to say. I don’t need to watch what I do. I don’t have to work out to look good enough, because I know you'll love me as I am. I can just be me.”

Jensen moved to lean on his elbow, almost hovering over her.

His words poured out, unfiltered, raw. “You know me better than anyone. You see all my flaws, all my screw-ups, and you still let me in—hell, you still let me into your bed."

"You trust me, blindly. And I feel safe with you, safe enough to tell you anything. Even the fact that I'm afraid that I'm marrying the wrong person tomorrow. Maybe I need a girl like my best girl."

Jensen seemed to lean in, clsoing the space between them. But Y/N placrd her hand resting on his chest.

Y/N tried hard not to look at his lips while stumbling over her words.

“Maybe… you were never meant to find a girl like me. Because you don't... I mean... you chose her and, you know find her well... attractive. And I’m… me. And girls like me look like me.”

Jensen frowned. “You are beautiful.”

She pulled her hand back from his chest, looking up at him.

“Exactly. You would call your sister beautiful. And your girlfriend, I don’t know, hot, sexy... attractive?"

Jensen's smirk did nothing to ease her beating heart. "My point is, Jay. You'd never want to be or do... things, with a girl who you see as a sister."

His frown deepened as he stared at her. Then, his voice dropped to a whisper, barely audible in the quiet room. “Would I want to do this to my sister?”

Before she could process his words, his lips brushed against hers—soft, hesitant, but filled with something she had never dared to believe in.

He pulled back just slightly. Y/N’s lips parted, her breath uneven, his eyes locked onto her, searching a reason to stop, but she didnt look angry or upset.

Her mind screaming at her to say something—anything—but before she could, he kissed her again.

This time, her hand moved to the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as the last of the space between them disappeared.

The kiss deepened, slow at first, but quickly unraveling into something more. Jensen’s hands roamed, his fingertips tracing familiar yet uncharted territory.

One hand gripped her waist, pulling her against him, as if closing the distance that had always existed between them.

He felt her hand tracing his chest, soft and unsure, but he needed to feel more of her touch. His free pulled the fabric of his shirt, tugging it over his head before tossing it aside. Before his hand grabbed the inside of her knee, so he could nearly melt against her.

That same hand tracing her thigh, her hip, feeling the soft cotton underwear while he make his way over to her stomach.

His breath was warm against her skin, his lips teasing against hers, lingering—testing. He hovered above her, eyes dark, questioning, waiting for any sign to stop.

But Y/N didn’t pull away, not this time. Instead, she pulled him closer, her own body betraying years of restraint. And for once giving in, not caring about the consequences, at least not tonight.

No. Tonight, the line had been crossed, one they could never undo.

So why stop now, right?

--

Jensen: @jackles010378 @libby99hb @winchesterwild78 @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @deans-baby-momma @ancles @tulipsvanilla @thesilmarillionblog @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @kr804573 @kamisobsessed @hobby27 @globetrotter28 @kindollss @muhahaha303 @shadysoulangel @lyarr24 @spxideyver @impala67rollingthroughtown @panickedbitch @deansimpalababy @livya99 @yvonneeeee @ladykitana90 @stoneyggirl2 @imsiriuslyreal @panickedbitch @roseblue373 @n-o-p-e-never @ariasong11 @lmpala1967 @sherlockstrangewolf @spnaquakindgdom @writtenbyhollywood @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @healojane @star-yawnznn

Y/N lay still, staring at the ceiling while the weight of reality settled over her. The warmth of Ben's body next to hers should have been comforting, but instead, it only made the sinking feeling in her chest worse.

Outside, the sounds of Herogasm were dying down—laughter, moans, and music fading as the night came to an end. The party was over, and soon, everyone would be leaving. Maybe it was time for her to do the same.

She turned her head slightly, watching Ben as he slept. His breathing was deep, steady, his face relaxed in a way she rarely saw when he was awake. He looked... peaceful. Different from the arrogant, larger-than-life supe the world knew. But even now, even after everything, she knew better than to fool herself.

Ben would never choose her.

Not really.

This wasn’t some fairy tale where the powerful hero falls for the girl who’s been by his side. He didn’t do commitment. He didn’t do love. And whatever this was between them, it wasn’t going to change that.

She could stay. She could curl up against him and pretend that for just one night, she belonged there. But come morning, she’d still be just another moment in his life. Another indulgence.

Her chest ached, but she knew what she had to do.

Carefully, she slipped out from under the sheets, moving slowly so she wouldn’t wake him. She found her coat, pulling it on over the red lace that now felt like a cruel joke. With one last glance at him, she forced herself to turn away.

By the time Ben stirred, blinking awake, the only sign she had ever been there was the lingering warmth on his sheets and the faint scent of her perfume in the air.

--

Y/N walked all the way home, but once she arrived at the lobby she had hoped not to run into someone and just head straight to bed.

Unfortunately someone was waiting for her.

Crimson looked her up and down, a slow disgusting smirk spreading across her lips. “Well, well, look who decided to show up,” she purred, crossing her arms. “Late night, sweetheart?”

Y/N stiffened, gripping her coat a little tighter around herself. The Legend stood beside Crimson, adjusting his tinted glasses, his knowing gaze flicking between the two women.

“Now, now, let’s not pretend we don’t know where she’s been,” sge chuckled, while The legnd lights a cigar. “Room 333, huh? That’s a hell of a place for a girl like you.”

Y/N felt her stomach twist. Of course, Crimson knew. She had set her up, after all. And now, she was enjoying every second of watching Y/N squirm.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Y/N muttered, stepping into the elevator the second the doors slid open.

Crimson followed, her grin widening. “Oh, come on. No need to play coy.” She leaned in, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. “You thought you’d sneak in, have your little fun, and no one would notice? Cute. But let’s get one thing straight—Ben doesn’t do girlfriends.”

Y/N kept her expression blank, refusing to react, but Crimson wasn’t done.

“You’re just another one of his distractions. And trust me, I know exactly how this ends.”

The elevator was suffocating, the air thick with tension as the doors slid shut. Y/N felt Legend’s gaze lingering on her, almost like he was waiting to see if she’d break. But she wouldn’t.

Not here.

Not in front of Crimson.

Instead, she took a deep breath, lifted her chin, and met Crimson’s eyes head-on. “Thanks for the advice,” she said, voice steady. “But I don’t need it.”

The elevator dinged, and before Crimson could respond, Y/N stepped out, walking away without looking back.

But the words lingered.

Because deep down, she already knew Crimson was right.

Y/N’s face burned as she fumbled with her keycard. The Legend leaned casually against the doorframe, puffing his cigar, watching her like he had all the time in the world.

"You look like a girl who just walked through fire," he mused, exhaling a slow stream of smoke. "And lemme guess—you're wondering if you got burned or if you’d run straight back into the flames."

She swallowed hard, gripping the door handle. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

The Legend chuckled, stepping a little closer. "Sure you do, sweetheart. I’ve seen that look before. You let Soldier Boy get his hooks in you, and now you’re trying to figure out what the hell that means."

Y/N’s lips parted, but she had no idea what to say. Because he wasn’t wrong.

The Legend studied her a moment longer, then sighed. "Look, kid. You’re new to this game, so I’ll give you some free advice. Ben’s got a... way about him. He makes you feel like the center of the damn universe—until the second he doesn’t."

Her stomach twisted.

The Legend tapped the ash off his cigar. "Question is... are you just another plaything to him, or is this gonna be something more?"

Y/N hesitated, then finally asked the question that had been gnawing at her since she left that hotel room. "Do you think he actually cares?"

The Legend let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "Oh, sweetheart," he said, his voice almost pitying. "That’s the real danger, isn’t it? Because I think he does. And that? That’s what’s gonna fuck you up the most."

With that, he turned on his heel and strolled away, leaving Y/N standing in front of her door, her heart pounding, her mind racing.

By night, Ben stormed into the meeting, his presence shifting the energy in the room. His usual air of smug confidence was absent—his shoulders tense, jaw locked, and piercing green eyes locked onto Y/N. The anger simmering beneath the surface was impossible to miss.

Crimson, as always, was glued to his side, running her manicured nails over his arm, leaning into him, whispering in his ear as if they were the only ones in the room. But he didn’t react, didn’t acknowledge her, not even a glance. His focus was entirely on Y/N. His stare was sharp, heated, a silent accusation that made her pulse quicken.

The discussion at the table droned on, touching on Vought’s latest PR plans and upcoming events. One particular topic stood out—Crimson’s scheduled morning interview on women’s empowerment. A smug smile played on her lips as she spoke about how she planned to "uplift and inspire." Y/N wanted to scoff at the hypocrisy, but she kept her expression blank, pretending to take notes.

She could feel Ben’s gaze pressing into her, heavy and unwavering. Every time she shifted in her seat, every time she so much as glanced in his direction, his eyes were still there—watching, waiting. He was pissed.

The second the meeting ended, Y/N barely had time to gather her things before Ben’s hand wrapped around her arm. His grip was firm but not painful, just enough to make sure she couldn’t slip away. Before she could protest, he yanked her into the room next door and shut the door behind them with a heavy thud.

His chest rose and fell with barely contained frustration, green eyes burning into her. "Why the fuck did you leave?" His voice was low, rough, almost accusing.

Y/N straightened, forcing herself to appear unfazed. "I thought that’s how this works," she said, crossing her arms. "We had an agreement. No attachments, no strings. When it’s over, one of us leaves." She shrugged. "I just saved you the trouble."

Ben’s lips twitched, something unreadable flashing across his face. His nostrils flared as he processed her words, his hands flexing at his sides like he was struggling to find the right response. "Oh, okay," he finally said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well, I’m sorry. I thought—"

"Thought what?" she cut in, stepping closer. "Go ahead, finish that sentence."

Ben opened his mouth, then shut it again, jaw clenching. His usual cocky demeanor wavered, like he wasn’t sure how to put whatever he was feeling into words. But that frustration, that tension in his body—it wasn’t just anger.

Weeks passed, but the tension between Ben and Y/N never truly faded. It simmered beneath the surface, crackling like an unspoken argument waiting to explode.

Y/N kept replaying The Legend’s words in her head. *I know the look on a girl’s face when she’s had the pleasure of sharing a night with him.* But what stuck with her more was the way Ben had looked at her after that night—the anger, the frustration, the hesitation. Like he wanted to say something but couldn't bring himself to.

Instead of admitting anything, Ben doubled down. He made a show of being perfectly content with Crimson, letting her drape herself over him, whisper in his ear, and leave lipstick stains on his neck. If Y/N entered a room, he’d go out of his way to ignore her, to laugh louder at Crimson’s jokes, to make sure she knew he didn’t need her.

But Y/N wasn’t stupid.

She saw the way his eyes still found her when he thought no one was looking. The way his fingers twitched when she was close. The way his jaw clenched when she smiled at another man.

Ben was stubborn, but so was she.

And if he wanted to play this game, fine.

She could play too.

When the Legend asked her to be his date to an event, she accepted it, thinking it was time to finally live a little. Who better to part with than the Legend.

The flashing lights of the red carpet were blinding, but Y/N kept her posture straight, arm linked with The Legend’s. He was enjoying the attention, waving to cameras and making jokes, but she could feel the weight of someone’s stare.

Ben.

He stood just a few feet away with Crimson, looking every bit the power couple they pretended to be. But Y/N could tell—he wasn’t listening to a word Crimson was saying. His eyes kept darting over, jaw tight, expression unreadable.

Crimson, ever the jealous type, noticed too. Her hand tightened around his arm, and she whispered something in his ear, something clearly meant to provoke him.

Ben’s patience finally snapped.

"Jesus fucking Christ, will you stop being so damn controlling?" His voice was sharp, loud enough that cameras and reporters turned their heads.

Crimson’s mouth fell open in shock, but before she could say anything, Ben grabbed her wrist and yanked her inside, away from the cameras and flashing bulbs.

Y/N watched them disappear, the heat of his outburst settling over her like a storm cloud. The Legend chuckled beside her, shaking his head.

"Kid, that boy's in deeper than he wants to admit."

"I doubt it." She said throught her smiling teeth.

Ben kept his eyes on her throughout the night, watching every laugh, every subtle glance she shared with the men surrounding her. It was jealousy, something gnawed at him, something that felt like it had taken root deep inside.

He didn’t know if it was the fact that she was so carefree, so damn confident, or if it was the realization that she was enjoying herself without him. He couldn’t get it out of his head.

He took another long drink from his glass, the liquid burning down his throat, but it didn’t dull the ache in his chest. He'd tried to ignore her, tried to pretend that their night together hadn't meant anything, but the truth was—he couldn’t shake her.

He hated it. He hated how her laugh sounded so effortless, how she had this way of commanding attention, of making people want to be around her. And yet, she didn’t need anyone. Not even him.

Y/N caught his gaze from across the room, her eyes locking with his for just a second. He was sure his expression was unreadable, but her lips twitched as if she could see through him. Ben set his glass down, the temptation to walk over to her almost overwhelming.

But he held himself back. He had to.

Instead, he watched as she excused herself from the group, making her way across the room toward the bar. She was alone now, her eyes scanning the crowd, and Ben couldn't help but follow her, his mind racing.

Ben strode over, "a moment" he ordered and took her hand not caring if anyone saw him pushing inside another room.

"The fuck are you doing here with him?" Ben barked. "He was so kind to ask me out, you jealous pig!' She bit back. "You never would have."

"I have a girl I need to have on my arm at any public event."

"Ah, see, then why do you care who I'm with anyway!"

"He just want's to fuck you Angel!" He yelled. But all she did was close her arms over her chest and looking him straight in the eyes.

"Really?" He said "Are you fucking him, now?" Chest heaving. "Come on y/n, The Legend? Over me!?"

"Like you said Ben, you have a girl! So stop pretending you care for me, if you did you'd fight for me."

Ben's anger exploded, he pushed her against the wall. His fingers digging him her shoulders. "You didn't gave me a chance, you left before morning!"

"A chance to what Ben? What would you have done?" Tears rushed over her cheeks, "Be honest! What would you have done?"

He didn't answer.

"I'll tell you! You'd leave before I woke up. Let me think I stood a chance and then left me, so I'm sorry I won't let you break my heart! I'm sorry I don't settle to be your secret! And I'm sorry you have to experience the lonely morning you have given dozen's of women this year!"

Ben pushed her body closer to the wall and pinned her there with his hips. "Don't" she whispered. But he was faster, his lips pressed against hers, hard and angry before he turned and left her standing there.

Not knowing what it meant.

---

Later that night in his bedroom, Crimson continued talking about her upcoming interview, clearly excited about the attention she was going to get. She went on and on, not noticing that Ben had completely zoned out.

His eyes were half-closed, his mind wandering. The buzzing of her voice faded into the background as his thoughts drifted to Y/N.

She had been distant, unsure, and maybe even hurt by his actions. But Ben wasn’t the kind of guy to admit he had regrets. He couldn't afford to. The last thing he wanted was to be vulnerable, especially not in front of Crimson.

Yet, he found himself thinking about the red lace lingerie, the way Y/N had looked at him, and how easy it had been to pretend like he didn’t care.

The familiar tension was still there, simmering beneath the surface. Every time he saw her, he felt an urge to break down the walls between them. He wasn't used to feeling this way, and it pissed him off. Why did she have to be so complicated? Why couldn't he just forget about her and move on?

But instead of focusing on that, he let Crimson’s voice wash over him. Her endless chatter filled the empty space, and Ben let himself fade into the background. It was easier that way.

Meanwhile, Y/N sat alone in her room, replaying the events in her mind. She had thought that leaving would help her clear her head, but it only made things worse.

She couldn’t stop thinking about the look in Ben's eyes, the way he seemed to need her, and then immediately pull away as if it was nothing.

The heartache felt like a dull ache in her chest, and she didn't know how much longer she could pretend that everything was fine. Would it ever be the right time for them?

Or was she just another girl in a long line of people who would come and go in Ben’s life?

--

taglist: Jensen: @jackles010378 @libby99hb @winchesterwild78 @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @deans-baby-momma @ancles @tulipsvanilla @thesilmarillionblog @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @kr804573 @kamisobsessed @hobby27 @globetrotter28 @kindollss @muhahaha303 @shadysoulangel @lyarr24 @spxideyver @impala67rollingthroughtown @panickedbitch @deansimpalababy @livya99 @yvonneeeee @ladykitana90 @stoneyggirl2 @imsiriuslyreal @panickedbitch @roseblue373 @n-o-p-e-never @ariasong11 @lmpala1967 @sherlockstrangewolf @spnaquakindgdom @writtenbyhollywood @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @healojane @star-yawnznn

"Can you do a plus size reader and Jensen maybe we're a fan asks a hurtful question about the readers weight and Jensen and Jared jump to her defense and Jensen goes on a tangent about loving his girlfriends body"

The convention hall buzzed with excitement as fans filled the seats, eagerly waiting to ask their burning questions. Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki sat comfortably on stage, cracking jokes and sharing stories, while Y/N watched from the side, a warm smile on her face.

She wasn’t one for the spotlight, but being with Jensen meant sometimes getting swept up in the whirlwind of conventions and public appearances. She never minded, though—especially when she got to see Jensen in his element, his deep laugh echoing through the mic, his green eyes twinkling with mischief.

The panel was going smoothly, filled with laughter and lighthearted teasing, until a fan stepped up to the mic with a question that sent a chill through the room.

"Jensen, you could have any woman you want. Why settle for someone... well, that fat?"

The words hung in the air, cutting deep, the murmur of the crowd shifting from excited to uncomfortable. Y/N felt her stomach drop, her face heating up. It wasn’t the first time she’d faced comments about her body, but hearing it in front of so many people—hearing someone question why Jensen would love her—it hurt more than she wanted to admit.

"I mean," the fan continues "You've dated superstars, actresses, even models. She is just so ugly in comparison.:

Before she could even process it, Jensen was already leaning forward, the easygoing charm in his expression replaced by something much sharper.

"Excuse me?" His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it, his jaw tightening.

Jared, sitting beside him, let out a disbelieving laugh, shaking his head. "Wow. That’s—wow. That’s not even a question. That’s just straight-up rude."

The fan fumbled for words, but Jensen didn’t give them a chance to backtrack. His protective instincts kicked in full force.

"You wanna know why, I'm with Y/N?" He scoffed, shaking his head before turning his gaze to the audience. "Because she’s the most incredible person I’ve ever met. Because she makes me laugh until my stomach hurts. Because she’s kind, she’s smart, she’s got a heart bigger than Texas, and she’s beautiful—every damn inch of her."

The crowd erupted into applause, cheers ringing through the hall. Y/N swallowed hard, her eyes stinging with emotion.

Jensen wasn’t finished.

"And let’s get something straight," he continued, his voice stronger now. "Her body? I love it. Every single curve. Every inch. She’s not ‘settling,’ and neither am I. You think beauty only comes in one size? That’s bullshit."

Jared, still shaking his head, leaned into the mic. "Yeah, seriously. If you think Y/N isn’t enough for Jensen, you clearly don’t know them. And you definitely don’t know love."

More cheers. The fan, looking properly embarrassed, quickly slinked away from the mic.

Jensen turned toward Y/N, his eyes softening as he gave her a small, reassuring smile. Without hesitation, he stood, walked to the edge of the stage, and reached for her hand. Pulling her close, he kissed her knuckles gently before whispering, "You good, sweetheart?"

She nodded, squeezing his hand. "Yeah."

He gave her a knowing look before turning back to the crowd. "Good. ‘Cause I’ll tell you one last thing—loving her is the best damn decision I ever made."

The audience went wild, clapping and whistling, while Y/N buried her face against Jensen’s shoulder, feeling overwhelmed in the best possible way.

She didn’t need the world’s approval. She already had all the love she could ever need.

--

Jensen: @jackles010378 @libby99hb @winchesterwild78 @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @deans-baby-momma @ancles @tulipsvanilla @thesilmarillionblog @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @kr804573 @kamisobsessed @hobby27 @globetrotter28 @kindollss @muhahaha303 @shadysoulangel @lyarr24 @spxideyver @impala67rollingthroughtown @panickedbitch @deansimpalababy @livya99 @yvonneeeee @ladykitana90 @stoneyggirl2 @imsiriuslyreal @panickedbitch @roseblue373 @n-o-p-e-never @ariasong11 @lmpala1967 @sherlockstrangewolf @spnaquakindgdom @writtenbyhollywood @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @healojane @star-yawnznn @multiversefanfics

Chapter 6: Tonight is the night

Ben leaned his head back slightly, exhaling through his nose as he watched her. There was something intoxicating about the way she looked—on her knees, lips brushing against his skin, taking her time like she was savoring every second. His fingers flexed at his sides before one hand slid into her hair, guiding her just enough without forcing.

"You're really enjoying yourself down there, huh?" His voice was thick with amusement, but there was a roughness to it, like he was barely holding himself back.

Y/N hummed softly against his skin, her fingers tracing slow, teasing patterns over his hips. She felt him tense under her touch, a rush of power swelling in her chest at the realization. He might be the strongest man she knew, but right now, he was at her mercy.

Her lips traveled lower, leaving a warm, open-mouthed kiss just above where he needed her most. Ben let out a low growl, his grip tightening in her hair for a moment before loosening again.

"Don't start something you can’t finish, angel," he warned, voice strained.

She looked up at him through her lashes, lips curling into a small smirk. "Who says I won’t?"

Y/N’s fingers trailed lower, tracing over the defined muscles of his stomach before finally wrapping around him. The sheer size made her hesitate for a split second, but the sound Ben made—half a groan, half a chuckle—snapped her out of it.

“See something you like?” he teased, his voice dripping with amusement as he looked down at her.

She bit her lip, eyes flicking up to meet his. “Just… taking it in,” she murmured, fingers tightening slightly.

Ben’s smirk deepened, but the cocky remark he had ready died in his throat the second she leaned in, her warm breath ghosting over his skin. His jaw clenched, his hand flexing in her hair, not guiding—just feeling, just waiting.

Y/N started slow, placing soft, open-mouthed kisses along his length, her lips brushing against heated skin as her hand moved in tandem, stroking with an unsure but eager grip. The groan that rumbled in Ben’s chest sent a thrill through her, encouraging her to keep going.

She parted her lips, letting her tongue flick out to taste him, her free hand steadying herself on his thigh. Ben sucked in a sharp breath, fingers tightening just slightly in her hair.

"Fuck," he muttered, head tilting back for a second before he looked down at her again, eyes dark, filled with something almost primal.

Y/N hummed, the vibrations making him twitch in her hold. She felt his muscles tense beneath her touch, the power in his body coiled tight like a predator waiting to pounce. But he let her set the pace, let her explore.

“Keep going,” Ben murmured, voice rough, his thumb stroking idly over her cheek.

Y/N kept her pace slow, teasing, watching the way Ben’s jaw clenched and his fingers curled into the couch. His breathing deepened, his muscles tense under her touch. She liked this—having control, making him lose it little by little.

Ben growled low in his throat, his hand moving to the back of her head, but she pulled back just enough to smirk up at him, dragging her nails down his thighs. “What’s wrong?” she teased, voice sultry. “Losing patience?”

His green eyes darkened. “Angel,” he warned, but she just kept up the slow torture, savoring every twitch and shudder.

It was when she let her nails dig in a little harder at his hip, that Ben finally snapped. A sharp inhale, a rough curse, and suddenly she was weightless—hauled up like she weighed nothing.

Her back hit the couch, Ben caging her in, breath hot against her ear. “You wanna play games?” he murmured, voice full of gravel. His hand wrapped around her throat, just enough to keep her still.

"I can play games, baby girl." he murmured, his lips ghosting over her jaw before trailing down her throat. His grip tightened just enough to make her pulse race, his erection pressing between her thighs. "But you won’t win, Angel."

Her breath hitched as he rolled his hips, teasing, making her body react before she could even think. His other hand slid down, tracing the lace of the bodysuit he’d never even planned on her wearing.

"You show up dressed like this, drop to your knees like a good girl, and expect me to take it easy on you?" He chuckled darkly, fingers slipping lower.

Y/N squirmed, but his grip kept her still, her body pinned against the couch. "Maybe I don’t want you to take it easy," she whispered, nails dragging over his chest.

Ben stilled for just a second, then smirked. "That so?" His hand moved suddenly, gripping her jaw, making her look straight into his eyes. "Then you better keep up, sweetheart. Because I don’t stop until I’m satisfied."

Ben didn’t wait for her response. He grabbed her thighs, hoisting her up like she weighed nothing, forcing her back flat against the couch. His grip was firm, possessive, fingers digging into her skin just enough to leave marks. "You wanted this, right?" His voice was rough, teasing, daring her to back down now.

Y/N swallowed hard, nodding.

"Use your words, Angel."

"Yes," she whispered, breathless.

He smirked, satisfied. "Good."

One hand trailed down, tracing over the lace that barely covered her, his touch maddeningly slow. He watched her reactions like a predator, waiting for that exact moment when she lost control. His lips ghosted over her ear, his breath hot. "You better beg real pretty now."

Her fingers dug into his shoulders, her body arching, desperate for more. But Ben? He just chuckled, teasing, testing her patience. "You want me to keep going?"

"Ben, please," she breathed.

Ben smirked, dragging his hands over her thighs, taking his time, like he was savoring the moment. "That’s what I like," he murmured, voice thick with amusement.

He shifted, pressing her firmly against the couch, his body flush against hers. His lips hovered just above hers, teasing, waiting—until she tried to close the distance herself. That’s when he pulled back with a knowing grin.

"Impatient, huh?" His hands traced slow circles along her hips, fingers gripping the soft lace. "I could take my time with you all night, make you beg even prettier."

Y/N whimpered, fingers fisting in his robe, her body moving instinctively against him. She was desperate for more, and he knew it.

Ben chuckled, low and deep, the sound vibrating through her. "hmmm. Keep squirming like that..."

His lips finally crashed against hers, rough and claiming, as his hands explored, teasing, tormenting. He wanted her desperate, undone, completely at his mercy. And by the way she clung to him, breath hitching, nails digging into his shoulders, he knew he had her exactly where he wanted.

Ben’s hands roamed over her curves, slow and deliberate, as if savoring every inch of her. His lips followed, pressing against the delicate skin of her collarbone, moving lower, grazing over the swell of her chest. His breath was warm against her skin, teasing, never quite giving her what she wanted.

His fingers traced the lace of her lingerie, his smirk deepening as he felt her body react beneath his touch. “You’re impatient, angel,” he murmured, voice thick with amusement and something darker.

"You're making me wait, like forever."

He continued his slow descent, lips and tongue trailing down her stomach, teasing just above the sensitive spot between her hips. The feeling of his tongue mixed with the lace gives a very tingling sensation.

When he reached her thighs, he stopped, glancing up at her with a smirk that sent heat coursing through her veins. His hands gripped her legs, spreading them just enough to make her breath hitch.

Y/N looked down, her breath catching as she caught a fleeting glimpse of his eyes—dark and filled with raw hunger—just a second before Ben pulled the red fabric aside and disappeared between her legs.

The sight alone sent a shiver through her, anticipation swirling in her chest. And then his mouth was on her.

Her back arched instantly, a gasp tearing from her throat as his hands gripped her hips, his fingers bruising in their intensity. His lips and tongue worked relentlessly, each touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through her.

He was focused, precise, and utterly relentless, his mouth moving over her like he was starving, each flick and stroke fanning the fire between them.

Y/N's hands fisted the fabric still hanging looselyon Ben's back, her head falling back as her body reacted to every sensation he gave her, her moans echoing in the room.

She could feel herself unraveling under his touch, every second driving her closer to the edge.

Her body trembled beneath him, breathless and spent, but Ben wasn’t finished. He hovered over her, his lips capturing hers in a deep, possessive kiss, letting her taste the satisfaction he had just given her. His hands roamed, fingers tracing the flushed skin of her waist, her hips, reminding her that he was still in control.

“You look wrecked, angel,” he murmured against her lips, smirking as he brushed his nose against hers. “And we're just getting started.”

His weight pressed her into the couch, a delicious mix of dominance and restraint. One hand tangled in her hair while the other slid down her body, teasing, as if daring her to beg for more.

Ben watched her every move, eyes dark with hunger as she peeled the lace from her body. His robe hit the floor, forgotten, as he stepped closer, towering over her.

“Good girl,” he muttered, his voice rough with approval. He reached out, tracing a finger down her bare skin, enjoying the way she shivered under his touch.

She was ready—he could see it in her eyes, the way her breath hitched, the way her body responded to him without hesitation. He smirked, gripping her chin between his fingers, tilting her face up to meet his gaze.

Ben guided himself, the heat between them thick, electric. His hands gripped her thighs, spreading her open just enough to accommodate him. His movements were slow, deliberate, as he lined himself up against her softness. The contrast of his strength and her vulnerability sent a shiver down her spine.

She felt the first press of him, a sharp inhale escaping her lips as he nudged forward, stretching her inch by inch. A sting shot through her, her fingers digging into his broad shoulders, nails raking against his heated skin.

Ben's breath was hot against her neck, his voice low and gravelly. "Relax, angel," he murmured, pressing a kiss just below her ear. "It won’t hurt as much if you breathe through it."

His hands roamed over her body, fingers tracing slow circles along her hips, urging her to ease into him.

She nodded, eyes fluttering shut as she focused on the feel of him, the way his body molded against hers. He gave her a moment, "you're doing so good," he whispered, voice thick with something almost reverent. "Just hold onto me."

Her arms tightened around his shoulders, holding onto the heat of his body, the solid strength of him.

Ben stayed still for a moment, letting her adjust, his forehead pressed against hers, his breath warm and heavy. His grip on her hips was firm, grounding, as if he was holding back, letting her take control of the moment. His usual cocky arrogance was replaced with something different—patience, control, and maybe even something bordering on reverence.

"You okay, angel?" he murmured, his lips ghosting over hers, his voice rough with restraint.

She nodded, her fingers tracing over his back, feeling the way his muscles tensed under her touch. She could feel the way he was holding himself back, waiting for her signal. Slowly, she shifted her hips, testing the sensation, and the sting melted into something warmer, something new.

Ben groaned, his grip tightening. "Fuck, you feel—" He cut himself off, shaking his head slightly as if he didn’t trust himself to finish the thought.

She moved again, just a little, and he exhaled sharply, his lips trailing down her jaw, over the curve of her neck. His control was slipping, she could feel it in the way his fingers dug into her skin, the way his breathing turned ragged against her throat.

"Tell me when you're ready," he said, but she could already feel the tension in his body, the way he was barely keeping himself in check.

She met his gaze, eyes heavy with need, her voice barely above a whisper. "I’m ready, Ben."

Ben started slow, deliberate, as if savoring every second. His hands gripped her thighs, holding her steady, his breath coming in sharp exhales against her skin. He watched her face, every flicker of emotion, every shift in her expression, his own restraint hanging by a thread.

"You’re doing so good," he murmured, lips ghosting over her cheek before pressing against her jaw, then lower, trailing warmth down her throat. His voice was rough, controlled, but she could hear the tension laced beneath it. He was holding back—for her.

She moved beneath him, instinctively responding to his pace, and he let out a low groan, his forehead pressing against hers for a moment. His grip on her hips tightened as she adjusted, experimenting, testing, learning what felt right.

"That's it," he muttered, almost to himself, his hand sliding up her side, fingertips brushing over her ribs. He was everywhere—his touch, his warmth, the deep rumble of his voice sending shivers down her spine.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, nails scraping lightly, and he let out a sharp breath, his control slipping just a little. His lips found hers again, deepening the kiss, stealing her breath along with every last coherent thought.

"Angel," he groaned, his voice rough, strained. "You feel..." He trailed off, shaking his head slightly, like words weren’t enough.

She met his gaze, heart pounding, completely lost in the moment. Her eyes closed, head slightly tipping back when she moaned soflty,"Ben..."

That was all it took.

His patience snapped, and his grip on her tightened as he moved with more intent, more urgency. His restraint was gone now, replaced by something raw, something electric, something only she could pull from him.

And God, she wanted more.

Ben felt her hands gripping his back, pulling him in, her voice barely above a whisper—closer.

For a moment, he hesitated, like he wasn’t sure what she meant, until he felt her fingers press against his shoulder blades, urging him down. His weight shifted, and then he let himself sink against her, his body covering hers completely.

His face pressed into the curve of her neck, his breath warm against her skin. He placed slow, deliberate kisses there, his lips lingering as he inhaled deeply.

"This what you need?" he muttered against her throat, his voice rough, almost hesitant.

She nodded, hands sliding up into his hair, tangling, holding him there. "I want to feel all of you."

Ben groaned, the sound vibrating against her skin. He let his full weight settle over her, surrounding her, his arms caging her in as if to shield her from everything except him.

His hips shifted slightly, pressing deeper, and she let out a quiet gasp, her body instinctively arching into him.

"Fuck," he breathed, his mouth trailing from her neck to her jaw, then to her lips, capturing them in a slow, burning kiss. He moved with a newfound intensity, each motion purposeful, every brush of his body against hers igniting something deeper.

Her hands roamed his back, nails grazing lightly, making him shudder. "You feel so good," she murmured, breathless, and Ben let out a deep chuckle, low and smug.

"Yeah?" He pulled back just enough to look at her, his green eyes dark and hooded. "You have no idea what you do to me, angel."

She looked up at him, dazed, completely lost in him.

Ben's smirk deepened as he trailed his fingers down her back, his touch deliberate and teasing. Without a word, he shifted, gripping her hips and effortlessly turning her over.

She gasped, her hands pressing against the mattress, her breath hitching as he guided her into place. His hands roamed over her back, fingers tracing the curves of her spine before sliding down to her hips, holding her firmly.

"Look at you," he murmured, his voice thick with admiration and something darker, something possessive. While his hand caressed her ass. "So damn perfect."

He leaned down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to the back of her shoulder, his breath warm against her skin. His hands splayed over her waist, thumbs stroking in slow circles as he took his time, savoring the way she shivered under his touch.

"You trust me, angel?" he whispered, his lips ghosting over the shell of her ear. She nodded, pressing back against him, silently urging him on.

Ben groaned, his grip tightening for just a second before he moved, every motion deliberate, every shift drawing another soft gasp from her lips.

"That's my girl," he muttered, his voice rough, almost reverent. "Now let me show you just how good I can make you feel."

But Ben was holding back, and she could tell. The way his fingers dug into her hips, the sharp breaths he took, the tension in his muscles—it was all restraint. And she didn’t want restraint.

“Ben…Dont... stop.” she whispered, pushing back against him, teasing, testing.

He groaned, his hands tightening.

But she didn’t stop. She wanted more, needed more. She turned her head just enough to catch his eyes, dark and wild, barely in control.

“Don’t. hold. back,” she said, voice breathy.

That did it.

Ben cursed under his breath, his grip tightening as he snapped. His control shattered, and suddenly, he wasn’t being careful anymore. He wasn’t treating her like something delicate—he was treating her like his, and she loved it.

His fingers tangled in her hair, pulling just enough to send a shiver down her spine. His body pressed against hers, heat radiating from him as he moved, no longer hesitating, no longer holding back.

“You like that, don’t you?” he muttered against her ear, his breath hot.

She could barely form words, nodding instead, lost in the way he felt, the way he was completely surrounding her.

Ben chuckled, but it was dark, almost dangerous. “Should’ve known you’d be trouble,” he murmured, voice laced with something possessive.

Ben was spiraling, his control slipping with every second. His grip on her was tight, his breathing ragged, his body tense as he chased that inevitable end. But then—

“Ben.. S-stop,” she whispered.

It took everything in him to process that single word through the haze in his mind. His movements slowed, his grip loosened slightly, and his brows furrowed in confusion.

“What?” His voice was hoarse, rough.

She turned her head to look at him, her expression soft but determined. “I want to see you,” she said, her voice barely above a breath. “When you... you know, I want to see your face.”

For a moment, he just stared at her, caught between the overwhelming need clawing at him and the depth of her request. No one had ever asked him that before. No one had ever wanted that from him.

Ben swallowed hard, then without a word, he shifted, turning her, guiding her until she was facing him. His eyes locked onto hers, dark and burning.

“You want to watch me come?” he asked, his smirk lazy, but his voice was rough, strained.

She nodded. A little shy.

His hand cradled the back of her head, his forehead pressing against hers.

Ben’s grip tightened, his large hand cradling the back of her head as he lay down and guiding her to ride him, forcing her to stay close, to see him. His forehead pressed against hers, his breath hot and ragged, his chest rising and falling with every sharp inhale.

"You really wanna see me lose it, angel?" His voice was a low growl, rough with strain, his control slipping through his fingers like sand.

She nodded, eyes locked onto his, wide and wanting.

Ben let out a shaky breath, his smirk flickering before his expression turned serious, dark with something deeper.

"And where... do you want it?"

"Inside." The way she said it sounded so innocent. His jaw clenched, his brows furrowed, and then—he finally let go.

A shudder ripped through him, his whole body tensing before melting into hers, his features twisting in something raw, unguarded, completely undone. His eyes, half-lidded and burning, stayed on her like he wanted her to memorize every second, like he was letting her see a part of him no one else ever had.

His grip on her hair tightened slightly before he pulled her in, crashing his lips against hers in a desperate, consuming kiss. It was different now—less control, less teasing. This was need, pure and unfiltered.

When he finally broke away, his breath was heavy against her lips. He let his forehead rest against hers, a deep, satisfied chuckle rumbling in his chest.

"That what you wanted, sweetheart?" His voice was hoarse, almost amused, but there was something else in it too—something real.

She nodded again, breathless, her fingers tracing over his jaw, memorizing him just as much as he had memorized her.

Ben smirked, pressing another slow, lingering kiss to her lips before pulling back just enough to look at her again.

"Good," he murmured, his thumb brushing over her cheek.

Ben pulled her against his chest, his arms wrapping around her like he had no intention of letting go. His breathing was still heavy, his body warm and solid against hers.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The room was quiet, filled only with the sound of their slowing breaths and the faint hum of the city outside.

Y/N traced lazy patterns along his chest, still lost in the haze of everything that had just happened. Ben's fingers brushed through her hair, absentminded but soothing, like he didn’t even realize he was doing it.

She tilted her head to look up at him. "So, this is it, huh.?"

"Yeah" he sighs content.

"So eh... what now?"

Ben huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "You tell me, angel. This was your idea, remember?"

She smirked, rolling onto her side to face him fully. "Yeah, but I don’t think I expected you to—" She hesitated, biting her lip.

"To what?" He raised a brow, amusement flickering in his tired green eyes.

"To be, so kind," she admitted, half-teasing but mostly honest. Ben chuckled, pulling her closer, his lips brushing against her temple.

He shifted, rolling onto his back and dragging her with him until she was tucked against his side. One of his hands rested on her hip, the other still tangled in her hair.

"Get some sleep," he murmured. "You can think about this tomorrow."

She swallowed, heat rushing through her again at the promise in his voice, but exhaustion was already settling in, her body worn out in the best way possible.

As her eyes fluttered shut, she felt Ben press one last kiss against her forehead.

Whatever this was—whatever they had just started—she knew one thing for sure.

It was far from over.

--

Taglist"

Jensen: @jackles010378 @libby99hb @winchesterwild78 @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @deans-baby-momma @ancles @tulipsvanilla @thesilmarillionblog @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @kr804573 @kamisobsessed @hobby27 @globetrotter28 @kindollss @muhahaha303 @shadysoulangel @lyarr24 @spxideyver @impala67rollingthroughtown @panickedbitch @deansimpalababy @livya99 @yvonneeeee @ladykitana90 @stoneyggirl2 @imsiriuslyreal @panickedbitch @roseblue373 @n-o-p-e-never @ariasong11 @lmpala1967 @sherlockstrangewolf @spnaquakindgdom @writtenbyhollywood @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @healojane @star-yawnznn

Part 12: Sunday morning rain

*This story is my own original story, please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

The next morning, Kayce woke first, the cool morning air filtering through the cracks in the old barn walls. His body was warm beneath the worn blanket, but it wasn’t just from the fabric—it was from her. Tess was still curled up against him, her bare leg draped over his, her cheek resting just above his heart.

His arm was wrapped around her waist, holding her close as if even in sleep, he refused to let go. Kayce took a slow breath, trying to ignore the steady thrum of his heartbeat as he looked down at her. Strands of her hair, tangled with bits of hay, fanned out across his chest and the blanket, glowing gold in the first rays of morning light that spilled through the wooden slats.

Her lips were slightly parted, her breathing soft and steady. His eyes traced the curve of her cheek, the way the sunlight kissed her skin, highlighting the faint freckles across her nose. He had covered them with an old blanket sometime in the night, and now, she clung to it loosely in one hand, her fingers curled around the fabric as she instinctively snuggled closer to his warmth.

Kayce swallowed, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. She looked so peaceful, so damn beautiful, and it hit him harder than he expected—this feeling, this urge to keep her here, just like this. His fingers brushed gently over her back, memorizing the way she felt against him.

For the first time in a long time, Kayce didn’t want to move. Didn’t want the morning to come and take this away.

A distant rumble of tires on gravel broke the quiet of the morning. Kayce’s head snapped up, his body instantly tense beneath the blanket. He listened for a second, his jaw tightening at the sound of a car door shutting.

Tess stirred against him, her warm body shifting as she blinked sleep from her eyes. Before she could speak, he pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. "I gotta get dressed," he murmured, his voice low and gruff. There was something in his tone—something unsettled.

Still wrapped in the blanket, Tess sat up, watching as Kayce pulled on his jeans and shirt in hurried movements. The tenderness of the morning evaporated, replaced by an unease that made her stomach twist. He ran a hand through his hair before glancing at her one last time, his expression unreadable, and then he was out the door.

Tess quickly dressed, brushing loose bits of hay from her hair as she followed him out of the barn. The early morning light was brighter now, casting long shadows over the ranch yard. She noticed it immediately—the shift in the air. The easy, warm energy from before was gone, replaced with something stiff and wary.

Colten stood near his truck, a woman at his side. Tess barely glanced at her at first, assuming she was just another one of his girls. But then she caught sight of John. He was facing them, but the moment he saw Tess approaching, he turned slightly and shook his head—just the slightest movement, but enough to make her pause.

Don’t come closer.

The warning was clear, but Tess ignored it. Her brows knit together as she stepped forward.

Then, she heard Kayce’s voice—low, sharp, and filled with something she couldn’t quite place.

"What are you doing here, Sarah?"

Tess stopped in her tracks.

The woman turned at the sound of her name, and for the first time, Tess got a full look at her. Tall, blonde, strikingly beautiful. There was familiarity in the way she stood, in the way her cool blue eyes locked onto Kayce with something that wasn’t quite a smile.

The air around them thickened, heavy with unspoken history. Tess didn’t need anyone to tell her. She knew.

Tess felt the ground shift beneath her feet.

Sarah wasn’t just anyone. She was the name Kayce had let slip the night before—the ghost of his past, the woman he had left everything behind for when he chased his music career. The reason he had run.

Now, she stood there, impossibly polished despite the dust of the ranch, blonde hair in perfect waves, her manicured nails gripping a stack of papers.

"Really, Kayce?" Sarah's voice rang out, sharp and demanding, but with an edge of something else—something almost wounded. "Why?"

Tess hated her voice. High and grating, like nails against glass, too polished, too rehearsed.

Kayce didn’t answer right away. His jaw flexed, hands on his hips as he exhaled through his nose. Tess could see it—how his whole body had gone rigid, his easy confidence from last night now gone.

Sarah took a step closer, shoving the papers toward him. "You leave without a word, and then you send me divorce papers? Without even talking to me?"

Divorce.

The word echoed in Tess’s mind, slamming into her like a freight train.

Divorce.

She swallowed hard, trying to process what had just been thrown into the open. Kayce wasn’t just breaking things off with some ex. He had been married. He was still married.

Tess’s stomach tightened, her heart hammering against her ribs.

Kayce was still staring at Sarah, but Tess felt like she wasn’t even in the picture anymore. Like the morning they had shared, the way he had looked at her, touched her—it had all vanished the second Sarah arrived.

And Tess wasn’t sure if she could stand there and watch what came next.

Sarah’s voice turned soft, almost sickeningly sweet.

"Why, baby?" she asked, her delicate fingers brushing over Kayce’s arm—the same arm he had wrapped around Tess just that morning, holding her close, making her feel like she belonged.

Tess felt her chest tighten, a storm of emotions crashing over her.

Confusion. Anger. Heartbreak.

She stepped back, needing space, needing air. Her boot hit something solid—a barrel. It rocked slightly, the dull thud breaking the tense silence.

Every head turned.

John's sharp gaze. Colter’s raised brow. Even Sarah turned, her expression shifting, her lips curling in something that almost looked like satisfaction. But Tess only saw Kayce.

He was watching her now, his face unreadable, but his eyes—God, his eyes—were filled with something that sent a fresh wave of pain through her.

Pity.

Tess clenched her jaw, forcing herself to stand tall, refusing to let them see the fear creeping up her spine.

Sarah’s gaze flicked between them, and then, as if a lightbulb had gone off, she let out a quiet, knowing hum.

"Oh," she said, ger eyes slid back to Kayce "That’s why."

Tess barely had time to process the shift before Sarah turned her full attention on Kayce, waving the stack of papers in his face.

"You claimed in the divorce that we weren’t compatible." Her tone was sharp now, dripping with mockery. "But meanwhile, you’re having an affair?"

Tess sucked in a breath. Affair.

The accusation hung in the air, thick and damning. Kayce’s entire body went rigid.

Sarah’s hand remained on his arm, her manicured fingers squeezing just enough to keep his attention.

"Leave her out of this," he snapped again, voice rough, desperate.

But Sarah only tilted her head, her expression softening—calculated. "Kayce," she said, almost scolding, "you brought her into this."

He clenched his fists, his patience slipping like sand through his fingers. "Why are you here, Sarah?" She exhaled, like this whole situation exhausted her. "Because I want to work things out."

The words landed like a slap, but before Kayce could process them, before he could even open his mouth to argue, Sarah’s gaze dropped—her fingers trailing down his arm, her body shifting just slightly.

And then, she said it.

"And I’m… we are expecting."

She touched her stomach.

The world tilted.

Tess’s breath hitched behind him. Silence stretched so thick it felt suffocating. Kayce’s heartbeat pounded in his ears, his mind racing.

No.

No, that wasn’t possible.

Was it?

But before he could react, before he could even turn toward Tess, she was already moving. Her face was pale, her eyes wide and unreadable, her chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths.

She took a step back. Then another.

And then—she ran.

Kayce barely registered the way Sarah’s fingers curled tighter around his arm. He barely heard John mutter a low curse under his breath.

All he knew—all he felt—was the sudden, aching emptiness left in Tess’s absence.

--

The sun had just started to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the ranch. The air felt heavy with tension, the kind that hung thick between the men and Sarah, and even more so with Tess’s presence in the same room, though she kept herself occupied, moving around as if busy with anything else but the situation at hand.

John and Kayce, both trying to put on a facade of calm, had agreed—begrudgingly—to offer Sarah a place to stay for the night. Whatever that meant. It wasn’t out of kindness, not entirely, but because it was the polite thing to do, at least for the moment. Both men knew they had to figure out the mess that had suddenly dropped into their laps, especially in front of Tess.

Kayce stood by the door, his jaw clenched. His eyes flickered to Sarah, and then back to Tess, who seemed to have retreated into herself, her gaze distant. He didn’t know what he was supposed to say.

“Why don’t you stay for the night, Sarah?” John’s voice broke the silence. “We’ll figure things out. It’s not the first time we’ve had an unexpected guest here.”

Sarah smiled sweetly, a mask of control and sweetness, nodding as she took a seat at the table, smoothing down her dress. “I appreciate that,” she said, her tone as saccharine as ever. “But I promise, I’m not here to cause any trouble.”

Kayce didn’t say a word. His face remained unreadable, but the air around him felt thick with his silence. He couldn’t look at Sarah without thinking about everything that had happened—everything he should have done differently.

Kayce had done the math over and over and yes, the child could be his. But still it didn't feel right.

Meanwhile, Tess, busy packing her small bag in her bedroom, felt like she was suffocating in the space. Every corner, every piece of furniture felt like a reminder of everything that had changed. She had tried to avoid Kayce’s eyes since the moment they left the barn, but now she couldn’t help it. It was too much to handle all at once.

She grabbed her toiletries bag and zipped it up, trying to keep her hands steady. She couldn’t stay here—not in the same room. She just couldn’t. With Kayce and Sarah around, it felt like everything had cracked wide open, and she didn’t want to watch it all fall apart.

As she was about to grab her jacket, a soft knock on the door startled her. Tess didn’t expect anyone, and when she opened it, she found Sarah standing there, her eyes soft but calculating, a look that made Tess feel instantly on edge.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” Sarah began, her voice smooth, almost sympathetic. “I just wanted to say I don’t blame you.”

Tess stood there, blinking for a moment, not sure what to say. Sarah’s words hung in the air, and for a split second, she was unsure of whether she should just shut the door in her face or hear her out.

“I don’t blame you for falling for him,” Sarah continued, her tone almost too sweet. “He’s dreamy, isn’t he? Kayce. I know. I’ve seen it in your eyes. His cowboy charm is hard to resist isn’t it?”

Tess felt her stomach turn. She took a deep breath, trying to stay composed, though every part of her wanted to scream at the woman standing in front of her. But she didn’t. Instead, she forced out a quiet, strained response.

“Why are you telling me this?” Tess asked, her voice barely a whisper, too many emotions bubbling inside her.

“I’m just being honest,” Sarah said, her smile thin and knowing. “I’ve been where you are. It’s tough. But you can fight it, Tess. You can’t change what’s already happened, but you can... do what's best.”

Tess’s eyes narrowed, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I’m not trying to fight anything,” she said sharply, her voice growing steadier.

Sarah tilted her head slightly, her hand brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Look, I didn’t come here to make you uncomfortable,” she said with a fake sigh. “We both care about Kayce. But I care about our baby more, and I want his or her dad in the picture."

Tess stood there, trying to keep herself calm, but everything inside her felt like it was unraveling. She couldn’t look Sarah in the eye anymore, so she turned her gaze to the ground, clenching her fists at her sides.

“I’m leaving,” Tess said, voice hard. “I’m not staying in the same house as you and Kayce. I’ll sleep in the bunkhouse.”

Sarah smirked at Tess’s reaction but didn’t respond right away. Tess’s back was already turned, heading for the door, when Sarah’s voice followed her.

“Just remember,” she called out sweetly, “I’m the one who carries his baby, Tess. You might want to search for another place, it might get crowded in a few months.”

Tess stopped in her tracks for a second but didn’t look back. She could feel the words burning her skin, but she refused to let them get to her. She wasn’t going to play this game.

Without a word, Tess grabbed her bag and walked out, her steps hurried as she made her way to the bunkhouse. She needed to get away. She needed space, and most importantly, she needed to think.

Behind her, Sarah watched her leave, a small, satisfied smile curling her lips.

--

The morning sun was already creeping through the windows, bathing the kitchen in soft golden light. Tess moved around the kitchen, preparing breakfast with the familiar rhythm she had grown so accustomed to. She cracked the eggs, added the bacon to the sizzling pan, and flipped the pancakes. It felt like any other morning—peaceful, routine—but the atmosphere felt different. Heavy. The events of yesterday, the confrontation, the lies—it all hung over her like a cloud.

Outside, she could hear Kayce’s voice low and calm, but it was unmistakably tense. Tess paused for a second, her hand hovering over the frying pan, and she caught a glimpse of him on the porch through the window. He was standing with Sarah. She was leaning in close to him, her voice a little too sweet, her body language too forward

Tess exhaled slowly and turned her attention back to the food. She could hear snippets of their conversation drifting through the window, and it made her stomach turn.

“Kayce, I know we’ve had our issues, but we can make this work,” Sarah was saying, her tone dripping with false sincerity. “We can raise this baby together, like a family. Don’t you want that?”

Kayce’s voice was low and controlled, but there was an edge of discomfort to it. “We’re not a family anymore, Sarah. We haven't been for a long time. I think it's better if we focus on co-parenting.”

Tess's hand faltered as she flipped the pancake. She wanted to scream. She wanted to run out there and interrupt them, but she didn't. She stayed in the kitchen, her fingers trembling as she stirred the eggs. The smell of the bacon began to fill the room, but it was like there was a foul taste in the air now.

Outside, Sarah didn’t give up. Tess could hear her move closer to him, her voice a little too sweet, a little too persistent. “Kayce, you know we’re better together. Raising this baby together, under one roof... don’t you think that’s better for the child?”

Kayce took a step back, his posture rigid. “No. We’re better off apart. We’ll figure it out. We can still raise the kid, just… not together.”

Sarah took another step forward, not backing down. Tess could hear her voice go a little softer, almost pleading now. “But you don’t want that, do you? I know you don’t. You still care about me, I can see it in your eyes, Kayce.” Her voice had a forced, sugary sweetness to it, but there was a manipulative undertone, like she was trying to reel him back in. “We can make this work, for the sake of the baby. We can still have everything we wanted.”

Tess couldn’t take it anymore. She knew she should just let it go, but the weight of the situation was too much. She could feel her chest tightening as her breath quickened. The eggs in the pan were starting to burn, but she didn’t care. She felt like she was suffocating.

The sight of the eggs hitting the edge of the pan startled her, and before she could catch them, the eggs splattered, and she dropped the spatula in shock.

The noise was enough to make Kayce’s head turn. Tess’s heart raced as she heard the sounds of footsteps approaching the door. Kayce walked in, his face tense, his brow furrowed. He didn’t look at her directly, but she could see the guilt in his eyes.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice softer now.

Tess nodded, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… busy.”

Kayce didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t press. He stood there for a moment, his eyes flicking to the eggs that were now all over the kitchen. He turned back toward the bedroom door, obviously ready to retreat from this situation.

Tess's heart sank as she watched him go. She couldn’t stand the tension, couldn’t stand the way Sarah was getting under his skin. She hated seeing them together, hated the way Sarah was trying to worm her way back into his life.

Just as she was about to start cleaning up the mess, the door opened again, and Sarah walked in without so much as a knock. She gave Tess a sweet, knowing smile, but it was the kind of smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“You know, Kayce’s just trying to do the right thing,” Sarah said, stepping further into the kitchen, her voice a little too smooth, a little too pleasant. “But it’s not always that simple. I’m not going to let him walk away from me, Tess.”

Tess felt her heart race as Sarah’s words sank in. The way she spoke, so matter-of-factly, made Tess’s blood run cold

“I’m not here to fight with you,” Sarah continued, glancing over at Tess with a smile that didn’t quite touch her eyes. “But I just wanted to let you know, Kayce and I are trying to work things out. We’re going to raise this baby together.”

Tess’s breath hitched in her throat, and she turned back to the stove, trying to compose herself. She couldn’t stand being in this room with Sarah for another second. It was like she could feel the toxicity radiating off of her.

“But Kayce said—” Tess began, her voice strained.

Sarah interrupted her, her tone growing colder. “Kayce can say whatever he wants. But let’s be real here. He is an old fashioned gentleman, he'll never leave his pregnant wife.” She stepped forward, crossing her arms over her chest.

"And if not, and the divorce continue, he'llbe in trouble, his family will be. Kayce cheated on me. My lawyer says, because I’m carrying his child, I have a claim over half of everything he owns, well you know we own, since we're still married... Including this farm.”

Tess froze. The words hit her like a slap in the face. “What?” she whispered, her voice shaky.

Sarah’s smile was now a twisted, almost triumphant thing. “Yeah. This farm, everything he’s worked for, it’s all on the table now. And you know what? I’m going to make sure I get what’s mine. Either way."

Tess couldn’t breathe. Her mind was spinning, and she felt like everything around her was crashing down. She could feel the tears threatening to rise in her throat, but she didn’t let them fall. Not here. Not now. She had to stay strong.

"But don't worry, Tess. You might keep your position as housemaid if you can keep your hand off my man."

With trembling hands, she turned away from Sarah and dropped the spatula on the counter, her heart pounding in her chest. Her vision blurred, and the kitchen seemed to spin around her.

The world seemed to crash around her.

--

Taglist: @leigh70 @roseblue373 @sherlockstrangewolf

Weeks passed, and Y/N found herself reliving that moment in the restroom over and over again. The memory of Ben, the way he touched her, the way he made her feel—it was burned into her mind. But she wasn’t the only one noticing the shift between them.

Crimson had started hovering. Watching Ben more closely, staying near him like a territorial predator. It was obvious she sensed something was off, and it only made Y/N more aware of herself, more careful.

That morning, Y/N was curled up on the couch in the shared living space, pretending to read a book. Across the room, Crimson was flipping through a magazine, lazily stretching across a lounge chair.

Ben walked in, paying neither of them any attention as he went straight for the coffee machine.

Y/N forced her eyes to stay on her pages, but Crimson was quicker, already slinking over to him like a cat in heat.

Her hands slid over his shoulders, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. "Babe?"

Ben barely looked up. "Hm."

"It’s been a while, don’t you think?" she purred, her fingers tracing the muscles in his arms

Ben shrugged, his posture relaxed, but his eyes flicked toward Y/N.

Y/N quickly looked back at her book, pretending she hadn’t been watching. But her fingers curled tighter around the pages, heart pounding.

Crimson’s nails lightly scraped down Ben’s chest. "I miss you," she whispered, leaning closer.

Ben gave a noncommittal grunt, but his gaze lingered on Y/N a second too long.

Ben leaned back against the counter, unimpressed. "What do you want?

Crimson kept her sultry tone, fingers tracing slow circles over his chest. "I was thinking… since Herogasm is coming up, maybe we book a private room at the hotel. You do whatever you want."

His eyebrow lifted. "Anything?"

She nodded, eyes gleaming. "Any-thing.

Ben turned fully then, his free hand sliding down her back before giving her ass a firm squeeze. "Anal?

Crimson stiffened, her confident smirk faltering. Her eyes widened just slightly. "I mean…"

Ben took a slow sip of his coffee, watching her squirm. "You said anything."

His eyes flickered toward Y/N for just a second—quick, subtle—before shifting back to Crimson.

"You know that’s not, you know why not that," she muttered.

"Why not?"

She lowered her voice, glancing around. Trying hard to keep her voice down"Because it fucking hurts! You're too big."

Ben threw his head back and laughed, loud and unbothered. "Guess it’s just regular Herogasm, then. Me in my suit you not there."

With that, he walked out, leaving Crimson fuming behind him.

Y/N let go of a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding the moment Ben walked out. Her grip on her book loosened, her shoulders relaxing just slightly—only for Crimson’s sharp gaze to snap to her.

"You think this is funny?" Crimson’s voice cut through the room, her tone dripping with irritation.

Y/N blinked, looking up just in time to see Crimson stalking toward her, arms crossed.

"I heard you," Crimson sneered. "You were laughing."

Y/N straightened, shaking her head. "I wasn’t—"

Crimson scoffed. "Listen, little girl, I don’t know what kind of game you think you’re playing, but stay the hell away from him."

Y/N held her ground, gripping her book a little tighter. "I’m not playing any games."

Crimson leaned down, eyes narrowing. "Good. Then keep it that way."

With that, she turned on her heel and stormed out, leaving Y/N sitting there, heart still racing.

The next few days were miserable. Crimson went out of her way to make Y/N’s life a living hell—passive-aggressive comments during meetings, unnecessary critiques during training, and, worst of all, the way she kept whispering to the others, making sure Y/N always felt watched. Isolated.

And Ben?

He acted like he hadn’t noticed a damn thing.

Y/N held out as long as she could, but after another morning of being ignored by him, she finally snapped.

She found him in the training room, alone, throwing punches into the heavy bag with enough force to make the chain creak. She hesitated, watching the muscles in his back flex under his tank top before she stepped forward.

"Ben."

He didn’t turn. Just kept throwing punches.

She stepped closer. "What did I do wrong?"

That made him pause. He exhaled sharply, wiping sweat from his brow before looking at her with irritation. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Y/N crossed her arms. "Ever since the… bathroom, you’ve barely looked at me. And Crimson—" She swallowed. "She’s making my life miserable. And you don’t care."

Ben sighed, rolling his shoulders. "It’s not about that."

"Then what?"

Finally, he turned to her fully, his jaw tight. "You can’t be seen with me. Not in public."

Her stomach dropped. "Why?"

"Because Crimson’s already on my ass," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "I don’t need her sniffing around more than she already is."

Y/N stared at him, searching his face for any sign that he felt even a little guilty.

"That's it?" she asked quietly.

Ben sighed again, looking away. "That’s it."

'So you... you don't regret it.. me?"

Ben paused, his tongue running over his bottom lip as he let out a slow breath. His hair was damp with sweat, strands sticking to his forehead, his chest rising and falling as he studied her.

"Sweetheart," he started, voice low and rough. "I don’t. I made you a promis it'll happen just all in time ok."

Y/N swallowed, searching his face for any hesitation, any sign that he was just saying what she wanted to hear. But doubt still crept in.

"Are you sure?" she pressed. "Because if I—if I did something wrong, or if you didn’t like it, you could just show me how you—"

Ben moved before she could finish.

One second, she was standing there, heart hammering, and the next, her back hit the wall. He was on her in an instant, his hands planted firmly beside her head, caging her in.

"You need to stop talking like that," he muttered, voice thick with something unreadable.

Y/N barely breathed.

Ben leaned in closer, his breath warm against her ear.

"You didn’t do anything wrong," he said. "You were good. Too good."

Her breath caught.

"And that’s the problem."

Ben’s gaze dropped to her lips, his finger tracing along the soft curve, slow and deliberate. His breath was steady, but his eyes—his eyes were burning.

"Every time I'm alone in bed." he muttered, his voice almost a growl, "I think about these soft lips." His thumb pressed against her bottom lip, just enough to make her breath hitch.

"And those little moans?" His smirk deepened. "I hear them in my damn sleep."

Y/N couldn’t move, couldn’t speak.

"Fucking addictive," he muttered, almost to himself, like he hated admitting it. His hand drifted lower, just barely grazing her jaw before he pulled back, flexing his fingers like he was fighting the urge to touch her again.

Ben exhaled sharply and took a step back. "And that’s why we gotta be careful, sweetheart."

Ben’s eyes darkened, his jaw tightening as he took another step back, like he needed the distance to keep himself in check. His tongue ran over his bottom lip again before he let out a slow, heavy breath.

"Because sooner or later," he murmured, his voice thick with restraint, "I won’t be able to see the difference between a dream and reality."

His gaze locked onto hers, the corner of his mouth twitching.

"And I might just fuck you on the conference table in front of everyone."

Y/N’s breath caught, her whole body tensing at his words. His smirk grew as he tilted his head slightly. "And we don’t want that… do we?"

The way he said it—like he already knew the answer, like he could see the way her pulse quickened—made her stomach twist.

Ben chuckled, stepping away fully, his hands running through his hair. "Didn’t think so."

And just like that, he turned and walked off, leaving Y/N pressed against the wall, heart pounding.

The next morning, Y/N padded into the kitchen, the hem of her babydoll dress skimming her thighs. It wasn’t something she normally wore around the tower, but at this point, she didn’t care.

She needed more from him. And soon.

Ben was leaning against the counter, stirring his coffee absentmindedly, looking half-asleep. He didn’t acknowledge her at first, just grunting as he took a sip.

"Where is everyone?" she asked, her voice still a little groggy from sleep.

"Don’t know," he muttered, still not looking at her. "Didn’t ask."

But then, finally, his gaze lifted.

And fuck.

His grip tightened around the coffee mug as he took her in—the way the fabric clung to her, the bare skin of her legs, the way she wasn’t even trying, and yet she looked like something straight out of his best dreams.

Hot damn. She’s sexy.

Y/N leaned against the counter next to him, pretending not to notice the way his eyes dragged over her.

She could feel it now—he was close to breaking. And she was going to make damn sure of it.

Y/N stood on her toes, reaching for a mug on the top shelf, the hem of her babydoll dress riding up just a little higher. She knew what she was doing.

Ben knew it too.

Before she could grab it, he was behind her, his body pressing in close, his arm stretching over hers to take the mug instead.

She sucked in a breath.

Because she could feel it.

Hard. Heavy. Pressing against her lower back.

She bit her lip, staying perfectly still, pretending like she didn’t notice. But her body betrayed her, a shiver running down her spine.

Ben smirked. He set the mug on the counter, but instead of stepping back, he leaned in, his mouth right by her ear.

"What are you planning?" His voice was low, rough, his hands finding her hips.

"Just coffee," she said innocently, turning her head slightly toward him. Ben huffed out a quiet laugh against her skin. "Yeah?"

She nodded, her heart hammering. But he knew better. "I said all in time Angel."

--

The Vought compound was eerily quiet. Everyone who mattered was at *Herogasm*, indulging in excess, leaving Y/N alone with only the distant hum of the city outside her window.

She had planned for a quiet night—maybe a book, maybe sleep—but the moment she stepped out of the bathroom, she stopped cold.

A sleek black box sat on her bed.

Her stomach flipped as she walked toward it, fingers trailing over the smooth lid before lifting it.

Inside was a red lace bodysuit, delicate, sheer in places that made her breath hitch. A note lay on top, written in a familiar, bold scrawl.

Room 333.

B.

Her pulse pounded. Ben had invited her to Herogasm.

So tonight was the night he decided.

She put on the lingerie he had given her, the delicate lace hugging every inch of her body, and then pulled on a long coat to cover herself.

Ben had rented out an entire hotel for this year’s Herogasm.

The moment Y/N stepped inside, she realized she had severely underestimated what that meant.

The hallways were filled with bodies, twisted together in ways that made her stomach turn. Supes didn’t care about privacy, about rooms. They indulged right there, in the open. The sounds, the heat, the overwhelming scent of sweat and indulgence—it was too much.

Was this how he wanted to do it? Here, in the middle of this?

Disgust twisted in her gut. Whatever anticipation she had felt was buried beneath revulsion. She hurried past it all, moving toward room 333 as fast as she could.

When she reached the door, she knocked, heart pounding.

It was flung open with force, and Ben stood there, shirtless, his hair slightly tousled, brows furrowed in irritation.

"I said leave me the fuck alone!" he snapped, voice rough, impatient.

Then he actually looked at her.

His expression shifted instantly, eyes dragging over her coat, lingering on her bare legs, before flicking back up to her face.

She swallowed hard. "You invited me."

Ben leaned against the doorframe, arms crossing over his chest, head tilting slightly, about to say something when an unfamiliar supe suddenly appeared beside Y/N.

"Holy guck Angel! Come with me, baby" the man grinned, his eyes dragging over her like he was already undressing her. "I'd love to treat you to a great night."

Y/N tensed, her stomach twisting in discomfort, but before she could react, Ben snapped.

"Get the fuck away from her." His voice was low, dangerous, the kind that made the air feel heavier.

The supe immediately raised his hands in surrender, laughing nervously. "Oh shit, Soldier Boy! I had no idea you’d claimed her. I’m so sorry, man!"

Ben’s jaw twitched, eyes dark, fists clenched.

Without another word, he grabbed Y/N by the arm, yanking her inside the room before slamming the door shut behind them.

Ben turned on her, eyes sharp. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Y/N blinked. "You invited me."

"I didn’t."

She frowned, taking him in properly for the first time. He looked like a really messed-up version of Hugh Hefner, standing there in nothing but a pair of black boxers and a ridiculous floral kimono, slightly open to expose the hard muscle of his chest. His hair was messy like he had just woken up, or maybe he had been planning to sleep through the chaos outside.

She exhaled, frustrated, and undid her coat in response.

"You sent me this," she said, revealing the delicate red lace against her skin.

Ben’s mouth parted slightly, his usual cocky expression wiped clean as his eyes dragged over her, taking in every inch of smooth skin, the way the lingerie hugged her body perfectly. His gaze darkened, jaw tensing as if he was physically restraining himself from reacting.

"I... I didn’t."

"Then who did?" Y/N asked, crossing her arms.

Ben walked around her slowly, eyes dragging over every inch of her like a predator sizing up its prey.

"What color is it?"

"Red," she answered.

His lips curled into a smirk. "What kind of red, Angel?"

It took her a second before realization hit. She exhaled sharply. "Crimson," she sighed.

Ben let out a short laugh and sat down on the edge of the bed, grabbing a joint from the nightstand. He placed it between his lips, lighting it with a flick of his lighter, inhaling deeply before blowing the smoke toward the ceiling.

"Bingo," he muttered. He took another slow drag, his eyes never leaving hers. "She’s been knocking on my door the entire evening. I get it now. Trying to catch us."

"So you're not...It's not that you don't want to." Y/N hesitated, trying not to sound disappointed.

Ben exhaled, watching her closely. "Oh, I want to."

"But just not with me," she muttered, looking away.

He frowned. "I didn't say that."

She forced a small smile, trying to play it off. "This is your night, I get it. I mean, I wouldn't want to spend it with a virgin either. Not when you can have… well, anyone out there."

"Y/N." His voice was firm. "Look at me."

She turned slowly, only to find Ben standing right in front of her, his green eyes locked onto hers. His hands found her hips, pulling her in just enough that she could feel the heat radiating off him.

"The only reason I don’t want to is because this isn’t the time or place," he said, his voice lower now, rougher. "Not because I don’t want you."

"You don't want to lose your virginity here," he said. He looked like he meant it, like he actually visualised the time and place.

Or maybe... maybe we was waiting for someone.

She crossed her arms. "How many have you had tonight?" Ben turned to her with a laugh. "Serious?"

"Yeah," she said, glancing around the room. No sign of anyone but him. No lingering perfume, no lipstick stains, no messed-up sheets.

He leaned back against the wall, arms spread lazily. "No one." She narrowed her eyes. "I don't believe you."

"You think I’m lying?"

"You ooze sex, Ben. If you don't have it, you'll explode."

He smirked. "I mean it. No one."

"Yet?" she challenged.

"Nope. Not tonight."

She frowned, confused. "Why?"

Ben shrugged, like it wasn't a big deal. "Didn’t feel like it."

That didn’t make sense. Soldier Boy at herogasm not indulging? It went against everything she'd heard, everything she'd seen of him.

"You’re telling me you showed up to this place, in that ridiculous robe, and did nothing?"

Ben smirked. "Didn’t say I did nothing. Just said I didn’t fuck anyone." Her heart pounded. "Then what did you do?"

He pushed off the couch and stalked toward her, voice dropping. Ben’s smirk deepened as he watched her react to his touch. His thumb dragged slowly over her lip again, eyes dark with something primal.

"Smoked a blunt, drank some booze, watched a little porn," he murmured, his voice thick and lazy. "Thought about these lips..." His thumb pressed slightly, testing, teasing.

She sucked down on it, her breath shaky. Her fingers skimmed over his bare chest, nails scratching just enough to make him inhale sharply.

His free hand caught her wrist, holding it still against him. "Careful, angel," he warned, but there was no real threat in his tone—just something rough and wanting.

She swallowed. "Or what?"

Ben leaned in, his mouth barely brushing hers as he whispered,

"Or I stop holding back."

--

Jensen: @jackles010378 @libby99hb @winchesterwild78 @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @deans-baby-momma @ancles @tulipsvanilla @thesilmarillionblog @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @kr804573 @kamisobsessed @hobby27 @globetrotter28 @kindollss @muhahaha303 @shadysoulangel @lyarr24 @spxideyver @impala67rollingthroughtown @panickedbitch @deansimpalababy @livya99 @yvonneeeee @ladykitana90 @stoneyggirl2 @imsiriuslyreal @panickedbitch @roseblue373 @n-o-p-e-never @ariasong11 @lmpala1967 @sherlockstrangewolf @spnaquakindgdom @writtenbyhollywood @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @healojane @star-yawnznn

Thanks!

A friend of mine made it for me. 🥰 I believe she used ChatGPT. Or at least a free AI tool.

Hi Becah! 🥰

Ofc! I would love to write for you! Hope you like it! ❤️

--

Jensen pushed open the front door, the familiar scent of home greeting him as he stepped inside. The long day of filming was finally over, and all he wanted was to kick back, have a drink, and wrap his arms around his girl.

“Y/n?” he called out, tossing his keys onto the counter.

“In here!” your voice chimed from the living room.

Jensen grinned and made his way toward you, already anticipating the warm hug you always greeted him with. But the moment he stepped into the room, he noticed something different. You were sitting on the couch, practically vibrating with excitement, eyes twinkling as if you had just won the lottery.

Before he could say anything, you jumped up and rushed to him, wrapping your arms around his waist tightly. “Jensen! You were so amazing today,” you gushed, looking up at him with pure admiration.

He chuckled, slightly taken aback. “Uh, thanks, sweetheart.”

“No, really,” you continued, pulling back just enough to look at him. “I was watching the clips from set you send me, and babe, you were phenomenal. The way you deliver your lines, your expressions—God, you’re just incredible.”

Jensen raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into an amused smirk. “Well, damn. If I’d known I’d get this kind of welcome, I’d have wrapped up sooner.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, grabbing his hands and squeezing them. “I just want you to know how proud I am of you. Like, seriously proud. I don’t say it enough, and I should.”

His smirk deepened as he gently tugged you closer. “Alright, what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” you asked innocently.

“This,” he gestured between the two of you. “The starry eyes, the overwhelming compliments… not that I don’t appreciate it, but it feels like I just won an Oscar or something.”

You huffed but couldn’t stop the small smile from forming. “Fine,” you admitted. “I was talking to my friends today, and they were all saying how they never really tell their men how proud they are. And that just didn’t sit right with me, so I figured I should make sure you know.”

Jensen’s arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him as he chuckled. “Oh, I know, sweetheart. Trust me.” You swatted his chest. “Okay, but I wanted you to really know.”

“Oh, I really know,” he teased, leaning down so his lips brushed your ear. “But now I’m wondering just how far you’re willing to go with this.” You felt the heat rise to your cheeks. “Jensen—”

He grinned, obviously enjoying himself. “Should I expect a banner next time I walk through the door? Maybe a little ‘World’s Best Actor’ trophy waiting on the counter?”

You groaned, shoving at his chest lightly, but he caught your hands and held them. “Or,” he continued, lowering his voice dramatically, “maybe a standing ovation every time I say something impressive?”

You tried to glare at him, but his teasing tone and those damn dimples made it impossible. Instead, you burst into laughter, leaning your forehead against his chest. “I hate you.”

“You love me,” he corrected, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “And I love you too—especially when you’re being all sappy and adorable.”

You sighed, wrapping your arms around him again. “Maybe I overdid it a little.”

“Nah,” Jensen murmured, resting his chin atop your head. “I like it. But if I start getting breakfast in bed for just existing, I might have to start questioning things.” You pulled back just enough to smirk up at him. “No promises.”

Jensen laughed, shaking his head as he leaned down and kissed you deeply. “You’re ridiculous.”

Jensen smirked as he pulled back, his green eyes twinkling with mischief. "So, just to be clear," he started, rubbing his chin as if deep in thought. "If I, say, take out the trash later, does that earn me another heartfelt speech about how I’m the greatest man to ever walk the earth?"

You groaned, shoving his arm. "Jensen."

He chuckled, clearly having too much fun with this. "No, no, I just need to know the rules here. If I bring you coffee in the morning, do I get a tearful monologue about how I’m the most thoughtful and incredible boyfriend of all time?"

You narrowed your eyes at him, lips twitching as you tried not to laugh. "I was just trying to be nice."

"Oh, sweetheart," he sighed dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. "You were more than nice. You were practically worshiping me when I walked through that door. Should I expect a red carpet next time? Maybe a slow clap?"

You rolled your eyes. "You're the worst."

Jensen let out a deep chuckle before leaning in close, his voice dropping to that low, teasing tone that made your heart race. "But you love it." You huffed, crossing your arms. "Maybe I should stop then."

His hands immediately found your waist, pulling you back toward him. "Oh no, no, no. I’m enjoying this way too much." His grin widened. "Please, tell me more about how insanely talented and perfect I am."

You playfully smacked his arm, finally breaking into laughter. "You're impossible." He shrugged. "Or maybe I'm just that amazing that you can’t help yourself."

You shook your head, still laughing, before shooting him a sly look. "Fine. If you want me to stop, I’ll stop." Jensen’s smirk faltered for just a second. "Wait—now hold on."

"Nope," you said, stepping away dramatically. "No more compliments. No more proud speeches. Nothing." He gasped, placing a dramatic hand over his heart. "You wound me."

"Too bad," you teased, flopping onto the couch.

Jensen followed, flopping down beside you and dramatically resting his head on your lap. "You know," he mused, looking up at you with those puppy-dog eyes, "I think I need a little reassurance after such a long, hard day."

You bit your lip, fighting back a smile. "Oh? What kind of reassurance?" He peeked up at you with a grin. "Nothing major." Peering down at his crotch and winked at you.

You rolled your eyes, running your fingers through his hair. "You are so ridiculous."

"And you adore it," he said smugly, closing his eyes as he leaned into your touch. "Just a little compliment then?"

You sighed, giving in. "Fine. Jensen Ackles, you are—" you paused dramatically, and he grinned in anticipation.

"Yes?"

You smirked. "A total pain in my ass."

Jensen burst into laughter, reaching up to grab your wrist and pull you down onto the couch with him. "You little—" Your laughter filled the room as he pinned you beneath him, peppering your face with kisses between his chuckles.

--

Next morning:

Jensen stirred at the sound of soft footsteps entering the room, the scent of bacon and coffee pulling him from sleep. He blinked a few times, adjusting to the morning light just as the curtains were pulled open, flooding the room with golden sunlight.

And then he saw you.

Standing by the window in nothing but a sheer, red babydoll dress that barely covered the matching lingerie underneath, you looked like a walking fantasy. His breath caught in his throat, sleep leaving his body entirely as he propped himself up on one elbow.

"Good morning," you said sweetly, walking over with a tray in your hands.

Jensen grinned, eyes raking over you shamelessly. "Damn," he muttered, running a hand through his messy hair. "Now this is a wake-up call."

You set the tray down beside him, leaning down just enough for him to get a better view. His hands immediately reached for you, but before he could pull you down into the bed, you simply ran your fingers through his hair and patted his head like he was some adorable little puppy.

"Eat your breakfast, baby," you said sweetly. Then, without another word, you turned on your heel and walked straight out the door.

Jensen's jaw dropped.

"Wait, what—" He sat up, looking between the tray of food and the door you had just walked through. He shoved the covers off, still in shock. “Y/N! That it?!” he called after you, but you didn’t answer.

He could hear you humming in the kitchen like you didn’t just wreck his entire morning.

Jensen groaned, falling back against the pillows with a dramatic sigh. He rubbed a hand over his face, shaking his head. “Is this what I get for teasing you?” he muttered.

But no response. You're back stayed turned to him, trying hard not to laugh.

--

After finishing breakfast, he wandered out to find you, determined to get payback for your little stunt.

Jensen had tried everything—calling your name, sending you pouty looks, even texting you from across the house—but you were on a mission to ignore him.

But when he stepped outside, he froze.

There you were, lying on a lounge chair in the garden, sunbathing in the tiniest bikini he’d ever seen. A book rested in your hands, and you looked completely unbothered, like you hadn’t just sent him into an early-morning crisis.

Jensen’s eyes scanned down your body, over your smooth skin glistening under the sun. He swallowed, running his tongue over his bottom lip as his fingers twitched at his sides.

And then, just when he thought he couldn’t be more distracted, you reached behind you and undid your bikini top.

His mouth went dry.

You tilted your head slightly, calling out in that innocent tone that he knew was anything but. "Babe?" Jensen cleared his throat, trying to play it cool. "Yeah?"

You stretched your arms lazily above your head. "Can you help me put some sunscreen on?"

Jensen smirked. Finally. He strolled toward you, confidence in his step. "Oh, I’d be happy to, sweetheart," he murmured, already imagining how his hands would feel gliding over your warm skin.

But just as he reached you, you rolled onto your stomach, completely facing away from him.

"Just my back, please," you said sweetly, resting your chin on your arms.

Jensen froze mid-step, his smirk faltering as realization sank in. His hands, which had been ready to explore every inch of you, now hovered uselessly as he stared at your perfectly positioned back.

You had played him. Again. He inhaled sharply, shaking his head with a deep chuckle. "Oh, you are evil."

You peeked at him over your shoulder, lips twitching. "Something wrong, baby?"

Jensen narrowed his eyes, squeezing some sunscreen into his hands. Thinking he was going to get you back for this.

As he slowly smoothed the sunscreen over your shoulders, he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. "You’re enjoying this way too much, sweetheart."

You hummed, wiggling slightly under his touch. "Mmm, maybe."

Jensen smirked, pressing a teasing kiss to the back of your neck.

--

Jensen sat in the middle of the bed, his back against the headboard, waiting. He had been patient all day, letting you play your little teasing game, but now? Now it was his turn.

When the bathroom door finally opened, steam rolling out behind you, his eyes darkened. You stepped into the dimly lit bedroom wearing another damn masterpiece—a silky, barely-there nightgown that clung to your curves, the lace teasing at places he was dying to touch.

Jensen exhaled slowly, watching you like a predator watching its prey.

You said nothing as you walked toward the bed, a small, knowing smile playing at your lips. He didn’t move, didn’t speak—just sat there, waiting to see what you’d do next.

Then, slowly, you crawled onto the bed and over his lap, planting yourself right on top of him. Your hands slid up his bare shoulders, nails dragging lightly across his skin, sending a shiver down his spine.

Jensen tilted his head, smirking up at you. "Now what?" he asked, voice low and rough.

You didn’t answer with words. Instead, you leaned in, capturing his lips in a slow, teasing kiss. Your fingers tangled in his hair as you nipped at his bottom lip, eliciting a quiet groan from him.

Jensen’s hands instinctively went to your hips, gripping you just enough to let you know he was done playing nice. But before he could take control, you pulled back, trailing your lips over his jaw and down his chest, leaving soft kisses and sharp little bites along the way.

His breath hitched, his grip on your waist tightening. "Oh, you are so testing me right now," he murmured, voice thick with desire.

You grinned against his skin. "Maybe."

Jensen chuckled darkly, tilting his head back as your lips continued their slow, torturous path. "Sweetheart, I really hope you’re prepared for what happens when I finally decide to stop letting you win."

You paused, looking up at him with mischievous eyes. "Oh, baby," you murmured, pressing a kiss right over his heart. "Who says you’re letting me win?"

Jensen let out a deep, shuddering breath as your head disappeared beneath the covers, the warmth of your lips trailing lower, leaving a path of fire in their wake. His hands instinctively gripped the sheets, anticipation tightening every muscle in his body.

And then—your voice.

“Oh, baby,” you murmured, pressing soft, teasing kisses against his lower abdomen. “You are so beautiful.”

Jensen’s brows shot up, a chuckle escaping him despite the heat pooling in his stomach. “Beautiful?” he echoed, his voice rough with amusement and arousal.

“Mmm,” you hummed, your lips grazing even lower. “So big. So perfect.” You sighed dramatically as if you were admiring a work of art. “Honestly, I don’t think the world understands just how incredible you are.”

Jensen let out a strangled laugh, his head falling back against the pillows. “Oh, come on—”

“No, no,” you interrupted, dragging your nails lightly down his thighs. “I don’t say it enough. You deserve to be worshipped.”

His breath hitched when your lips brushed over where he needed you most, but before he could even react, you pulled back slightly.

“Like, truly,” you went on, dragging this out just to drive him crazy. Your hand wrapped around him pumping and stroking oh so softly. “They should build a toy in your honor. Just so every women can have what I have—‘The Most Perfect Man Alive: A Jensen Ackles Experience.’”

Jensen groaned, throwing an arm over his face as he laughed. “You’re killing me, sweetheart.”You grinned against his skin, planting another teasing kiss on his hip. “Just making sure you know how proud I am of you, baby.”

His hand shot down, fingers threading into your hair, his patience officially gone.

Jensen’s head tilted back against the pillows, his lips parting in a deep, guttural groan as your mouth worked him over in long, slow, torturous strokes. His fingers tightened in your hair, his breathing ragged as you gave him exactly what he needed—just the right amount of pressure, just the right amount of teasing.

His free hand clenched the sheets beside him, muscles taut as fire coiled low in his stomach. Every brush of your fingers against his skin sent another wave of pleasure through him, making it impossible to focus on anything but the feel of you.

“Jesus, Y/N,” he breathed, voice wrecked, his chest rising and falling in uneven gasps.

You hummed in response, the vibrations making him curse under his breath. His entire body tensed as he felt himself teetering on the edge, that delicious build-up threatening to send him over. His grip in your hair tightened, his jaw clenching as he let out a low, desperate moan.

And then...

You stopped.

Jensen’s eyes snapped open, his chest heaving as he looked down in disbelief. “No, no, no,” he groaned, his hips instinctively lifting as if chasing your touch. “Sweetheart—”

But you were already sitting back, lips swollen, eyes twinkling with mischief as you wiped the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Something wrong, baby?” you asked innocently, tilting your head.

Jensen let out a deep, exasperated laugh, dragging a hand down his face. His entire body was wound so tight he thought he might actually die right then and there.

“You did not just—” He cut himself off with another frustrated groan, throwing his head back against the pillow.

You smirked, running your fingers lightly down his stomach. “What?” you teased. “I thought you liked a little anticipation.”

Jensen exhaled sharply, shaking his head before locking eyes with you. That playful look in your gaze?

He nearly jumped you. Pushing your back on the bed and hovering over you, his body covering the light, so all you could see was the perfect outline of the godlike man avove you. "Oh, you have no idea what you’d just started." He teased I a deep sexy voice.

“You are so in trouble,”, voice dark and full of promise.

Your smirk widened. “Oh, baby,” you whispered, leaning in close, your lips just barely grazing his.

“I’m counting on it.”

--

Jensen: @jackles010378 @libby99hb @winchesterwild78 @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @deans-baby-momma @ancles @tulipsvanilla @thesilmarillionblog @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @kr804573 @kamisobsessed @hobby27 @globetrotter28 @kindollss @muhahaha303 @shadysoulangel @lyarr24 @spxideyver @impala67rollingthroughtown @panickedbitch @deansimpalababy @livya99 @yvonneeeee @ladykitana90 @stoneyggirl2 @imsiriuslyreal @panickedbitch @roseblue373 @n-o-p-e-never @ariasong11 @lmpala1967 @sherlockstrangewolf @spnaquakindgdom @writtenbyhollywood @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @healojane @star-yawnznn

part 4

Summary: Y/N is drunk texting Jensen… He might like it. Things might slightly escalade over time. You can either read it in a before Danneel or after Danneel setting just how you like.

Just because it's fun and you guys seem to like us flirting with Jensen 🙈

**princess ✨️** (10:14 AM): thanks jay for getting me home last night 🥺

**hot shot 🔥** (10:16 AM): no problem princess

**hot shot 🔥** (10:17 AM): he really didn’t seem like the type of guy for you

**princess ✨️** (10:19 AM): i know!

**princess ✨️** (10:20 AM): i’m more into… idk, sweet and caring… tall… brown hair… You know.

**hot shot 🔥** (10:22 AM): yeah? what about his eyes? preference?

**princess ✨️** (10:23 AM): 💚

**hot shot 🔥** (10:25 AM): interesting

**princess ✨️** (10:26 AM): is it?

**hot shot 🔥** (10:28 AM): just making sure i’m understanding you right.

**hot shot 🔥** (10:28 AM): You know if I would ever plan a blind date for you...

**princess ✨️** (10:30 AM): oh? and what do you think i mean?

**hot shot 🔥** (10:32 AM): i think you should say it

**princess ✨️** (10:34 AM): i think you already know

**hot shot 🔥** (10:36 AM): maybe i just like hearing you say it

**princess ✨️** (10:38 AM): you’re impossible

**hot shot 🔥** (10:39 AM): and yet, you text me, every time

**princess ✨️** (10:40 AM): shut up

**hot shot 🔥** (10:41 AM): make me...

**hot shot 🔥** (10:44 AM): …you still there?

**hot shot 🔥** (10:46 AM): y/n?

**hot shot 🔥** (10:48 AM): just making sure you didn’t actually get mad

**princess ✨️** (10:50 AM): i’m not mad

**hot shot 🔥** (10:51 AM): then what’s with the silence?

**princess ✨️** (10:53 AM): maybe i just like keeping you waiting

**hot shot 🔥** (10:54 AM): evil

**princess ✨️** (10:55 AM): a little. You like it

**hot shot 🔥** (10:57 AM): so when do i get some time with you?

**princess ✨️** (10:58 AM): why?

**hot shot 🔥** (11:00 AM): because every time i’m with you, you get all quiet or shy

**hot shot 🔥** (11:01 AM): i want to, you know, make you feel safe around me.

**princess ✨️** (11:03 AM): oh

**hot shot 🔥** (11:05 AM): yeah, *oh*

**princess ✨️** (11:07 AM): what if you don’t like the real me?

**hot shot 🔥** (11:09 AM): what if i already do?

**hot shot 🔥** (11:13 AM): so?

**princess ✨️** (11:16 AM): i have to work. photoshoot today.

**hot shot 🔥** (11:18 AM): busy, huh?

**princess ✨️** (11:19 AM): very. Sorry.

**hot shot 🔥** (11:20 AM): guess i’ll have to wait for my time then.

[Later That Night]

**hot shot 🔥** (9:37 PM): going for some drinks with the guys. you should come, rewind a little.

**hot shot 🔥** (9:38 PM): [sends location]

**hot shot 🔥** (9:45 PM): princess?

**hot shot 🔥** (9:58 PM): ignoring me again 😒

**hot shot 🔥** (10:15 PM): fine. but just so you know, i look really good tonight

**hot shot 🔥** (10:32 PM): probably the best i’ve ever looked, actually

**hot shot 🔥** (10:45 PM): people keep looking at me. must be my charm

**hot shot 🔥** (11:16 PM): come on, princess. you don’t wanna leave me all alone with these fools... Jared calls you a chicken.

**hot shot 🔥** (11:30 PM): i miss you ❤️

--

Jensen: @jackles010378 @libby99hb @winchesterwild78 @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @deans-baby-momma @ancles @tulipsvanilla @thesilmarillionblog @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @kr804573 @kamisobsessed @hobby27 @globetrotter28 @kindollss @muhahaha303 @shadysoulangel @lyarr24 @spxideyver @impala67rollingthroughtown @panickedbitch @deansimpalababy @livya99 @yvonneeeee @ladykitana90 @stoneyggirl2 @imsiriuslyreal @panickedbitch @roseblue373 @n-o-p-e-never @ariasong11 @lmpala1967 @sherlockstrangewolf @spnaquakindgdom @writtenbyhollywood @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @healojane @star-yawnznn @cevansbaby-dove