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

Damn Chey sorry its taken me so long to read this (life got in the way 😣) but I'm caught up now 😊 this is insanely good! 😏 ❤️‍🔥 🔥

@jackles010378 That's fine love. We all been there.

I did wanted to text asking if you where OK, I did noticed less activity but didn't want to pry or push you. ❤️

Awww @cheynovak it's ok 🥹 I'm getting there slowly, just had a lot of shit to deal with but I took today for myself and have been reading everything I have been able to 🥰 got loads to catch up with but I'm getting there ❤️

(2.11)

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

Damn Chey sorry its taken me so long to read this (life got in the way 😣) but I'm caught up now 😊 this is insanely good! 😏 ❤️‍🔥 🔥

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

Y/N woke up alone in her bed, the soft light of morning seeping through the curtains. The events of the previous night were still vivid in her mind, lingering like a dream she wasn’t sure she was ready to wake up from.

Ben hadn’t done the things she expected. The things she had imagined in her head. But he had kept his word—he’d taken it slow. The pace had surprised her, the way he guided her without rushing, watching her closely, his green eyes never leaving her.

At first, it had felt awkward, like she was exposed in a way she wasn’t used to. The intimacy of it was overwhelming, and she couldn’t help but feel self-conscious as he observed, his eyes taking in every movement.

But as time passed, that awkwardness faded, replaced by something else. Something deeper. She couldn’t quite put it into words, but the longer they stayed like that, the more she started to appreciate the way he looked at her—not with impatience or judgment, but with curiosity. With respect, even.

She remembered how his gaze would shift, studying her with a quiet intensity, as if every detail mattered. And the more she felt his eyes on her, the more she found herself drawn into the moment.

Y/N closed her eyes, and her hands wandered to the places she had touched the night before, her hands moved in between her legs.

Feeling how wet she still was.

*flashback*

Ben had called her a good girl. And then when she entered a finger she felt his hands join hers. Circling the sensitive bud.

Her head fell back onto his shoulder. Moaning. "Play with those nipples Angel." He murmured still watching her.

She listened. But clearly felt unsure.

Moans filled the room as he kept working her. "Turn around." her eyes popped open. "Sit." he said gesturing to his thigh.

"I want you to ride my thigh." He said with a very low and commanding voice. "While I show you how a man plays with those pretty tits."

He was clearly waiting. The first move felt weird, unreal. But then she realised Ben kept working her clit while his tongue was working her nipple. She gave in.

"Oh Ben..." She sighs. "Ben... I need more, please... please give me more." he grinned. "You keep working and maybe you deserve a little more."

Frantic her hips started to grind against his thigh. But then he lifted her ass up a little to get his two fingers to run through the slick entrance before pushing inside.

"Yesss!" her moan came out breathy.

"Come on Angel... work for it."

Within seconds she felt something burning inside her. "Keep going." was the only sentence he'd say before she tumbled over the edge. "You're doing great."

A knock on the door pulled Y/N out of her thoughts. She sat up quickly, still wrapped in the warmth of her blankets, the memory of last night still clinging to her like a second skin. For a moment, she hesitated before pulling the blanket tightly around her and getting up to answer.

Stan Edgar stood in the doorway, his usual unreadable expression in place. But there was something in the way he looked at her—something calculating, like he could tell exactly what had happened the night before.

"You're late," he said simply.

She blinked. "Late?"

"It's noon," he clarified. "You weren’t at practice."

Y/N swallowed, suddenly feeling a little too exposed despite being covered. "I—didn’t hear my alarm," she lied.

Edgar didn’t look convinced, but he let it slide. His gaze flickered behind her for just a moment, and then she heard it—a deep, familiar rumble from down the hall.

"Morning," Ben muttered as he walked past her door in the hall, completely at ease, like nothing was out of the ordinary.

Y/N felt her face heat up instantly.

Edgar’s sharp eyes shifted back to her, catching every little change in her expression. "Are you okay?" His voice was even, but there was a subtle edge to it.

"Yes," she said too quickly. "Fine. Just—tired."

He studied her for a beat longer before moving on. "Is the new suit better?"

"Yeah, it’s fine," she said, wanting nothing more than to get rid of him.

"Don't forget the press conference tonight."

"I won't." She smiled.

Edgar didn’t push further, but as he turned away, he stopped near Ben, lowering his voice just enough that only he could hear.

"Don’t know what it is you’re doing," Edgar said smoothly, "but you better stop it. Don’t want Countess to make a fuss."

Ben’s smirk didn’t waver, but there was something sharper in his gaze now. "Relax, Edgar," he said, voice dripping with amusement. "I always handle my business."

Edgar gave him one last unreadable look before walking off.

--

The press conference was a spectacle, as always. The announcement of the new movie had the cameras flashing non-stop, capturing every forced smile, every posed interaction.

Ben stood next to Crimson, playing the part of the perfect power couple, his arm draped around her waist while she smiled for the cameras. Y/N stood off to the side in her new suit, a sleek black catsuit that hugged her figure perfectly. For the first time in a long time, she felt confident. Powerful. And it showed.

Ben noticed.

He wasn’t supposed to, but he did. His eyes kept drifting toward her, watching the way she held herself, the way she exuded an effortless kind of strength.

Crimson caught on quickly. With a tight smile, she leaned in just enough for only him to hear. “So what now? You're into virgins?”

Ben barely spared her a glance, his expression unreadable. “Just admiring the new suit.”

Her grip on his arm tightened. “We had a deal, Ben,” she reminded him, smiling for the cameras but seething underneath. “Fuck whoever you want, but not team members.”

He smirked, completely unfazed. Then, with a firm hand, he turned her slightly by the arm, lowering his voice. “You need to learn your place, woman, I said I was just fucking looking.” His tone was sharp, laced with warning, before he let go and stepped away, leaving her fuming.

--

The after-party was the usual chaos. Loud music, expensive champagne, and people losing themselves in excess. Y/N never liked these things. She sat alone at the bar, a glass of champagne in hand, watching the room with detached amusement.

Ben found her easily. He leaned against the bar next to her, his presence impossible to ignore.

"You look amazing," he murmured, his voice low, just for her. She turned to him, arching a brow. “Not so bad yourself.”

His lips quirked into that familiar smirk, but there was something else in his eyes. Something that lingered longer than it should have.

Ben studied her for a moment, his expression unreadable, but there was something dark and knowing in his gaze.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, voice low.

“Fine,” she answered quickly.

Ben straightened, towering over her, the weight of his presence making her pulse quicken. He let the silence stretch between them before finally speaking again.

“Are you still okay with the… transaction?”

Y/N licked her lips, her fingers tightening around the stem of her glass as she looked straight ahead. She didn’t know why she suddenly felt nervous, why his question carried so much weight now. But she wasn’t backing out. Not after everything.

“I think I’m ready for the next part,” she said finally, turning to meet his eyes.

Hunger.

That’s what she saw there. Something intense and unshaken, like he had been waiting for her to say those exact words.

His smirk returned, slow and deliberate. He leaned in just enough that only she could hear.

“Ladies’ room,” he murmured. “Five minutes.”

And then he was gone, disappearing into the crowd like he hadn’t just turned her whole world upside down with a few simple words.

--

The second she walked through the door Ben was on her. His tongue past the seam of her lips. "Off." he commanded. "Take that suit off, now." he moved a second to lock the door. And Y/N listened standing in nothing but her lingerie.

The stubble of his beard drags across her skin, she could feel the slickness of her pussy soaking her panties. “Tell me to stop.” He kisses and nibbles her bottom lip, a whimper with each gentle tug.

“Please don’t.” y/n cling to his strong forearms. Letting out a tiny gasp when his grip on her hair tightens against her scalp. The hand he’s been using to hold now slides to the front of her panties.

She moaned into his mouth with a pleading noise as he trailled her panties. Keeping her bottom lip tugged between his teeth.

Her core clenches in anticipation. Ben spins her around so that her back is against his torso again facing the mirror, and his hot mouth sucks down on the sensitive spot right behind her ear. “Oh, god.” moaning at how good it is to finally have his lips and hands and body on her.

The rigid length of his erection rubs up against her through his pants. The feel of him is too much, too spellbinding, and nowhere near fucking enough all at the same time.

“Jesus. Fuck.” His hand shoves down the front of her, and his fingers graze the spot just over her clit, pressing against her through the drenched, silky material of her panties. “You’re so fucking wet.” Ben sounds angry.

His mouth is hot at y/n's ear, and he starts to rub over the soaked fabric. Her breath falters while he keeps massaging her pussy, and sucks her earlobe into his mouth.

His other hand is hungry blazing a trail across each inch of her bare skin he touches for the first time before grabbing a handful of her aching breast. Kneading and squeezing and pinching her tightly furled nipple.

“Please. Don’t stop.” begging and whimpering as he teases her. The ache is unbearable, hips start chasing his touch in search of relief. So high on this man right now, she just want everything and want it immediately.

“Touch me. Properly." she's willing him to cross that forbidden line. To slip inside her panties and let her feel the roughness of his fingers sink against the most intimate part of her, like she has been craving for this man to do ever since she asked him to take her.

“This is all for me?” He grunts against my neck. she feels his fingers slide down further, hard and low, cupping the drenched material against her entrance. Y/N whimper and nod. “All for you. Only you.” Ben curses. In that moment, it’s like something shifts inside him.

“Look at you, baby.” He lets out a low growl. “Jesus Christ. The things I want to do to you.” her cheeks are flushed and her lips still tingle from the force of his kisses.

Her horny brain is entirely hung up on the feel of his heated skin pressed up against mine, the way his scent winds a coil around her and wraps her up, how his muscles are so firm beneath her trembling fingers.

He’s so steady and sure, while she felt soft, melted, reduced to a puddle. What would it be like to have a man like this take care of me? It’s a dangerous thought—one that she quickly push aside. This is sex, only. Don’t go getting it twisted, Y/N.

He tumbled her down over the sink and her instinct is to try and push herself upright. But Ben takes command and presses a firm palm beneath her shoulder blades, tipping her body forward to greet the cold stone, exposing her ass.

"Holy shit. This man is trying to kill me".

Anready flushed cheeks turn into an inferno as she felt his presence right behind her, peeling her panties off her legs with so much careful precision, it feels as though he’s unwrapping her.

“Goddamn woman, that ass of yours has been tempting me since you first stepped foot on this red carpet.”

“Ben…” Her voice is muffled.

Ben stopped her by hitting her ass with the palm of his hand.

“Unless the rest of that sentence is please eat my cunt until I forget my own name, I don’t want to hear another word.”

His fingers glide just along the crease below her ass, tracing the sensitive skin. She made a strangled noise of protest. “You—You don’t have to."

“Have to?” Ben is so close she felt his rough words against her exposed pussy. He makes a disapproving noise, then bites her ass so hard she squeals. “Did some fuck-face with a small dick make you feel like this some unholy shit? Like it's not the best meal he'd have if he just give in?”

Oh my god.

That mouth on that man.

Every inch of her skin has gone up in flames. She can’t handle this. Ben is staring at the most intimate part of her, pointing out what idiots she had been dating without even getting past kissing.

And he was right even if she'd giving in to one of them. they would have never given her the pleasure Ben was planning on giving her.

“I’ll tell you now, I intend on spending as much time as possible licking this sweet little pussy of yours. And I’ll gladly spend all night with my head between your thighs without you touching me once.”

“There is no having to do anything, I’ve been craving this, Angel. I’ll eat you for every meal. You are goddamn beautiful and the sweetest fucking thing I’ll ever tasted. So, let me take care of you until you’re shaking and soaking my face like a good little girl.”

There’s no more talking or wondering. Ben's wicked mouth is on her, leaving her a quivering mess, gasping and whining as he sets to work. He presses his tongue into her, then alternates that by sliding two fingers inside. She is hopelessly at his mercy.

There’s not much she could do except dig her fingernails into the stone below her head and let out a string of ungodly noises.

Each flick and suck of his skilled tongue, along with the scratch of his beard against the sensitive skin, drags more whimpers and moans to the surface.

The hardened buds of her nipples drag against the stone cold stone of the ladies room. While he pushed her past her own limits.

By the time Y/N’s legs shook, Ben pulled away, standing up with that same lazy confidence, licking his lips.

She turned, still unsteady, her hands instinctively reaching out, palms sliding over the hard muscle of his torso. His skin was warm, his chest rising and falling with slow, measured breaths. She held onto him for balance, trying to steady herself, but the way he looked at her made her pulse race all over again.

His smirk deepened. "You liked that?"

She swallowed, her cheeks warm, and nodded. "Yeah."

For a brief second, he just looked at her, his expression shifting into something close to satisfaction—proud, even. He had guided her through something new, controlled every second of it, and watching her come undone under his touch had only fed that ego of his.

But she wasn’t finished.

Her fingers hesitated before moving lower, past his chest, trailing down his stomach. The ridges of muscle tensed beneath her touch as she traced the defined lines leading down to his hips. Her hand hovered for a moment before continuing down, fingers grazing over the fabric stretched tight across his thigh.

And then she felt him.

Her breath caught slightly, her fingers pressing just a little more firmly. The heat, the sheer size of him, even through the layers of fabric—it made her dizzy.

She looked up at him through her lashes, lips parting slightly, barely an inch away from his.

"Tell me how I can make you feel good," she whispered, her voice soft but sure.

Ben grabbed her hand. But in response she kneeled in front of him." You don't have to." He said. "Teach me." She begged while her other palm was cupping and rubbing him hard.

He let go of her hand and she worked the zipper of his pants quickly. Her eyes widen when she finally saw him. Her finger traced the veins. Mesmerized by the size of it.

Ben smirked "You look surprised."

Her hand wrapped around his cock. Her tumb still tracing the vain underneath the skin going all the way from the tip to his balls.

"It's... softer than I expected."

"What!?" Ben seemed unpleased with her comment." I mean... it's heavy and bigger that I thought, but the skin is so soft, smooth. Warm"

Her hand closed a little tighter and Ben groaned. Y/N let's go a bit. "Sorry did I hurt you?" Ben smiled." No... no keep going. I eh... kind of like your soft touch."

"Just keep moving up and down." His voice was deep and needy. She looked up at him, his eyes closed but his breath was steady, nowhere near how he made her feel minutes ago. Y/N leaned in. Kissing his hip, then the other, feeling how his cock twitched in her hand.

She figured it was a good sign since he made that deep rumbling sound in the back of his throat. She made her way over to the base of his dick while her lips kept kissing the skin around it.

Ben's hand moved to her chin, his thumb pushed past her lips, on instinct she sucked and swirled her tongue around it. Her hand tightened around him and Ben's head fell back.

He let go of her face, y/n brought the tip of his dick to her lips and repeated the motion. Ben's hand grabbed the counter behind her head. Leaning over her.

In this moment he looked like a God.

"Fuck! Angel!... Keep going."

Y/N kept repeating it over and over. Her other hand wandered around. Over his thigh, hip, and eventually sank to his balls.

Ben couldn't hold it much longer. His free hand grabbed his dick, folding over her own hand. Her lips let go of him while he helped her pump him the way he liked. Hard, rough and fast.

It didn't take long before Ben was out of breath and groaning her name over and over. The warm liquid squirted over their combined hands. Even though she felt a little insecure, y/n couldn't not watch what happened right in front of her.

Insure wondering why he had to step in. Was she that horrible at it? A small drop hit her cheek. She looked up but Ben's eyes where closed.

When he came down. He opened them and looked straight in her eyes, seeing the insecurities linger. Be pulled her up holding her nearly naked body against his.

"Was it... was I... Was it that bad what I did?" Ben's brows frowned at the question. His thumb wiped the little drop of cum of her cheek and pressed his finger passed her lips. Making her taste it before his lips closed in on her, but didn't touch.

"No, it wasn't bad, you did great."

"I didn't make you come."

"Yes you did." He protests, " No you, you made yourself..." Ben had enough of it and pressed his lips to hers. Not only did she taste him on her tongue but also the residue of herself that still lingered on Ben's lips.

A deep rumbling "hmm" filled Ben's throat. "Fuck Angel... we're good together." Y/N eyes blinked fast but before she could ask what he meant. A hard knock on the door interrupted.

Stan Edgar.

"Soldier boy! I know you're in there. Get out here know, before more guests start missing you! Before Crimson does!" a short pause " You too Angel!"

Y/N quickly dressed while Ben took his time to just pull up his pants as he watched her. Hm

He opened the door to see Stan still standing there. Arms crossed like some school teacher ready to hand out detention.

Ben guide Y/N passed Edgar. But his eyes locked furious at the man.

"I told you to not mess with her, Ben."

Ben's hand still lay on her back, her cheeks flaming red out of shame. Ben leaned in, towering over Edgar. "And I told you, I take care or my own business. So stay out of it, Stan."

Ben quickly kissed Y/N on her shoulder whispering. "See you later, Angel." And walked away. Mingling and drinking at the party like whatever happened in that bathroom was just a daydream.

Leaving her standing there alone, wondering what he meant when he said... we're good together.

---

tags:

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

** Chapter three: Distraction**

Days passed.

Y/N got a new suit, which meant new pictures. Unfortunately, the new suit wasn’t much better. A **black catsuit**, skintight, leaving little to the imagination.

She tugged at the fabric as she walked into the photo studio, already feeling uncomfortable.

Then, she saw him.

Ben was sitting on the edge of a table, feet stretched out in front of him, arms crossed lazily over his chest.

She frowned. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m not letting you alone with that freak,” he said simply, tilting his head toward Mitch, who was adjusting the camera settings across the room. His tone was casual, but the way his jaw ticked said otherwise.

Y/N swallowed, her fingers twitching at her sides.

Ben wasn’t standing, but sitting like this, he was almost at her eye level. She was close enough to see the hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

She hesitated before speaking. “Did you have time to think about it?”

He raised a brow. “About what?” She shifted on her feet, voice quieter. “…You know.” For a second, there was nothing. Then, he smirked.

“No, I didn’t think about it, Angel.” He let the words hang between them before adding, “Because it’s not happening.”

Y/N’s stomach twisted. She wasn’t sure why it bothered her so much.

Ben sighed and stood up, rolling his shoulders, stretching like he had all the time in the world.

Then, he was right there, towering over her, way too close.

She kept her gaze on the floor. “Am I… am I too ugly?” Her voice was small. “Is that it? Are you not attracted to me?”

Ben didn’t answer right away.

Instead, his eyes flickered past her, landing on Mitch, who was watching them from across the room.

Ben exhaled through his nose, then leaned down.

“I’m ready if you are, Angel,” Mitch murmured.

Y/N’s breath hitched.

She looked over her shoulder, catching Mitch staring, jaw slightly slack.

Then she turned back to Ben and whispered, “Please stay.”

His gaze darkened.

Ben smirked, then leaned in further "If you think predators like him will stay away because you fucked a man, your wrong... They don't care."

He leaned in close enough that his lips almost brushed hers, but at the last second, he shifted, pressing a kiss just next to her mouth instead.

From Mitch’s angle, it would look real.

"But, he'll stay away when he thinks your off limit."

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly.

Then Ben whispered, just for her to hear, eyes on Mitch “And if you promise me you want it for any other reason then men to leave you alone, because that won't happen, you're to beautiful... I might be persuade. "

"Okay" she said out of breath. "I'm just... curious. I want this for me."

Ben smirked. "I'll think about it.”

--

The shoot went well.

Mitch kept his distance, only giving instructions when necessary. He was still shaken after what had happened days before, and Y/N was grateful for that.

But instead of focusing on the camera, she kept looking at Ben.

She adjusted her pose, shifting her hips slightly, tilting her head just right. Every movement was deliberate, every glance toward him was a silent challenge.

Look at me.

But he wasn’t.

Ben stood with his arms crossed, shifting his weight like he wanted to be anywhere else. He glanced at the ceiling, out the window, even at the floor—anywhere but at her.

Y/N bit the inside of her cheek.

Did he really find the idea that disgusting? Did he not find her attractive at all?

She had no idea that Ben was thinking about her the whole time.

Thinking about how she would look in his bed, how her body would fit against his. How it would feel to teach her, to guide her, to make her fall apart under him.

His fingers twitched at his sides.

She turned slightly, glancing at him over her shoulder.

Ben’s jaw tightened.

He needed a drink.

Ben abruptly announced that the shoot was over, and without a word, he grabbed Y/N by the arm and hauled her out of the studio.

She stumbled slightly, trying to catch up as he moved quickly, dragging her through the hall.

Once they were far enough from the photographers, Ben leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. "I said I’d think about it," he hissed, "doesn’t mean you have to eye fuck me the entire time."

His words were sharp, like a knife, but there was an edge of something else there—something unreadable.

Y/N recoiled slightly, heat rushing to her face. "I wasn’t—"

He didn’t let her finish. "Cut the shit, Angel," he said, his grip on her arm tightening, guiding her down the hallway.

Her heart raced, her mind spinning with the things he’d just said. She hadn’t realized how obvious she’d been, but now, the way he spoke made it clear that he’d been paying more attention than she thought.

Ben let go of her and walked in a different direction. Leaving her standing alone in the middle of the hall.

--

Days passed, and Ben didn’t say a word to her.

Y/N tried to focus on other things, but the tension between them lingered, thick and palpable. One night, she sat in her cozy pajamas, curled up on her couch watching silly cartoons, trying to escape her thoughts.

A knock at the door interrupted her.

She opened it, and there stood Ben, leaning against the doorframe.

"Can I come in?" he asked, his voice low, almost casual.

Y/N stepped back, her heart suddenly pounding in her chest. "Yeah, sure."

He walked in, his eyes scanning the room before they settled on her. "I thought about it," he said, his tone flat, but there was an edge to it. "I’ll do it. But only on my terms."

Y/N blinked, surprised. "Really?!"

Ben sighed and crossed his arms. "Yeah, but it’s not gonna be anything like you probably expect. First thing—" he paused, locking eyes with her, "we build it up slow. You tell me what you have and haven’t done with a guy. No pretending."

Her stomach twisted, but she nodded quickly.

"If at any time you or I don’t want to continue this, it ends. No hard feelings. It’s just about getting it over with."

She nodded again, still processing everything.

"We use your room," he continued, voice hardening slightly. "I don’t want Crimson knowing about this. You understand?"

Y/N nodded, her mind racing. "Yeah, I get it."

Ben’s gaze softened just a little as he let out a frustrated sigh. "And last... even though I fucking hate it," he muttered, "we use protection. I don’t want to get you knocked up and live with a fucking scandal in my team."

Her heart skipped a beat.

She opened her mouth to say something, but the words caught in her throat. She just nodded, trying to swallow the lump that had formed there.

Ben stood for a moment longer, studying her. "That’s the deal," he said, his voice cold but somehow laced with something else, something unreadable.

Y/N barely had time to process everything before he turned to leave.

"Think about it, Angel," he called back without looking at her. "Let me know when you’re ready."

Y/N stood in front of him, a mixture of anticipation and nervousness swirling inside her. She wasn’t going to back down now.

"I don’t have to think about it," she said, her voice steady, eager. "I agree. When do we start? Now?" She stepped closer, her body almost vibrating with urgency.

Ben immediately placed his hands on her shoulders, holding her back, his grip firm but not harsh. "Hold it, Angel," he said, his tone more serious than before.

He glanced around the room, taking in the sight of her sitting area. "Sit down."

Without question, she did, perching herself on the couch, eyes never leaving him.

Ben seemed unsure for a moment, his gaze flicking over her. Then he finally broke the silence. "Okay, have you... kissed a boy before?"

She rolled her eyes, the question almost feeling too simple. "Yes," she replied, a little exasperated.

He nodded, seemingly processing the answer before continuing, "Have you given a hand job? Blow job? Anything?"

She shifted uncomfortably, her cheeks warming with embarrassment. "No."

Ben’s eyes narrowed slightly as if he were trying to gauge how much to push. "Anything a man has given you?"

She shook her head. "No."

He paused, clearly running through the list of questions in his mind. "So basically, apart from holding hands and being touched on top of your clothes... nothing?"

Y/N felt her face flush deep red, the heat spreading across her cheeks and neck. "Pretty much," she murmured, her voice quiet, but honest.

Ben didn't respond immediately, his expression unreadable. The silence stretched between them, heavy and thick with unspoken tension. He glanced at her once more before taking a slow, deliberate step back.

Ben sighed deeply and sat down next to her. The space between them felt charged, and Y/N could feel the weight of his gaze on her.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, his voice quieter now, almost searching.

Y/N gave him a small smile, then, to his surprise, she shifted, moving closer and sitting on his lap, straddling him with an unexpected confidence.

He froze, clearly caught off guard by her boldness. "Want to back out?" she asked, her voice steady but laced with a hint of challenge.

Ben smirked, his hand gently resting on her thighs. He felt her tense for just a moment before she relaxed into his touch, a look of surprise crossing her face.

"Do you?" he teased, his grin widening as he watched her carefully.

She shook her head, her determination clear. "No," she replied softly, the word almost an unspoken promise.

Ben’s smile softened as his hand moved to the back of her head, his fingers gently guiding her closer, not in force, but with an undeniable pull. His touch was firm yet restrained, as though testing the limits, seeing how far she was willing to go.

She didn’t pull away. Instead, she let him bring her closer, the air between them thick with tension, yet also a strange kind of understanding.

Ben looked at her for a moment, his gaze lingering on her lips. The weight of the silence between them was heavy, charged with something neither of them had fully acknowledged. He took a deep breath, leaning in slowly, their faces just inches apart. When their lips finally met, it wasn’t rushed or forceful, but there was an undeniable intensity in it.

If this kiss was any indication of what was about to unfold, Y/N knew she was already crossing a line. She could feel the heat building between them, but there was still a sense of hesitation, a mutual understanding that something significant was about to happen.

He stood up and carried her to the bed, where a mirror stood facing the bed end. He sat down. Telling her to undo her pyjamas. And turn towards the mirror.

He sat her on his lap, his face next to hers kissing her naked shoulder. His hands on her hips, her legs hung over his thighs, as he widened his sitting position. So they both had a clear view of her.

"Show me, how you take care of yourself." He whispered looking at her eyes in the mirror.

--

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

*** Chapter two: Try Again, Motherfucker."

"Who did this to you?"

Ben’s eyes burned into her, his whole body tense.

“Who?”

Y/N’s throat felt tight. She could barely think, barely breathe.

His hands were still gripping her waist, but not in the teasing, aggravating way he usually did. This was different. His fingers pressed into her skin like he was barely holding himself back.

She didn’t answer. Couldn’t. He yelled. “Who the fuck did this to you!?”

The force of it jolted her out of her daze.

Before she could even think, the name slipped past her lips.

“… Mitch.”

The change in Ben was instant. His face went blank. Too blank. Then, slowly, something dark crept in. His jaw locked, his nostrils flared, and his whole body tensed like a bomb about to go off.

Y/N had seen Ben angry before. But this? This wasn’t just anger. This was pure, murderous rage. And it terrified her.

Her fingers trembled as she clutched the counter. “Ben?”

He didn’t answer. Didn’t even look at her. Instead, he turned—shoving back from the counter so fast —and started toward the door.

Panic surged through her. She jumped down, stumbling slightly before rushing after him. “Ben! Where are you going!?”

Still, no response.

He was marching now, his whole body moving with purpose, fists clenched at his sides. Her heart pounded.

She knew what he was going to do. And she couldn’t let him.

Y/N lunged, grabbing his wrist, yanking him back with more strength than she probably should have used. "Ben, stop! Just—listen to me!"

He whirled around so fast that she nearly stumbled back. His eyes were wild. His chest heaved. Y/N swallowed, her voice shaky. “I got away. I—I stopped him before anything happened.” She shook her head. “You don’t have to—”

Ben’s laugh was cold. Sharp. Dangerous. His voice was low now, rough and tight with barely-contained fury. “He put his hands on you.”

She didn’t know what to say.

Her heart hammered as she clutched his arm. “Ben, please,” she whispered. “Just let it go, I don't want trouble.” His eyes snapped to hers, and for just a second, something flickered there—something almost like disbelief.

Then, his lips curled into a scoff. He ripped his arm from her grip and walked away.

Ben stormed into the photo studio, ready to tear Mitch apart. But the room was empty. His fists clenched. He was seeing red.

**voices.**

Through the open hallway, he heard Mitch talking. Smug. Unbothered, trying to cover himself. Ben followed the sound, boots heavy against the tile as he stalked toward the office.

“…Misunderstanding, that’s all,” Mitch was saying. “She’s young. Girls like that—they don’t know what they want until you show them.”

Ben didn’t think. Didn’t hesitate. He ripped the door open. Edgar barely had time to turn before Ben grabbed Mitch by the collar and yanked him up.

The little bastard barely got out a squeak before Ben threw him. The table collapsed under the impact, wood splintering as Mitch crashed onto it. Papers went flying. A lamp hit the floor.

Mitch groaned, dazed, hands scrambling against the wreckage. “Jesus—what the fuck!?”

Ben was already on him, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and hauling him up before he could even try to crawl away.

“Wait—wait—” Mitch stammered, panicking. “It’s not what you think, man—” Ben slammed him back onto the broken table. Mitch gasped, eyes wide.

Edgar sighed. “Soldier Boy, put him down, it's a misunderstanding.” Ben didn’t move. His knuckles whitened against Mitch’s collar. Mitch swallowed hard, words spilling out in frantic desperation.

“She—she gave me signals!” he blurted. “I thought she wanted me to! She’s been flirting with me all morning, man—”

Ben’s eye twitched.

That was it.

He lifted Mitch like he was nothing, marched across the room— And threw him straight through the window.

Glass shattered.

Mitch screamed, arms flailing, but before he could fall completely, Ben caught him by the ankle. Now, Mitch dangled ten stories up.

Screaming. Begging.

Edgar’s calm voice cut through the chaos. “Soldier Boy.” Ben didn’t look back. Didn’t care. Instead, he loosened his grip, voice dark as he spoke.

“Look at her, Stan” he growled, eyes locked on Edgar. “You tell me—does that look like a girl who fucking wanted it?"

Edgar’s usually calm expression faltered as his eyes landed on Y/N. Her torn fishnets. The forming bruises. The way her hands still trembled at her sides.

For the first time, she saw something close to guilt flicker across his face. “I’m so sorry,” Edgar said, his voice measured, careful. Y/N barely heard him. Her focus was on Ben.

On the way he held Mitch over the ledge like he was nothing but a piece of trash. On the way his shoulders heaved with anger, his fingers tight around the bastard’s ankle.

Mitch was sobbing.

“Ben,” she said softly. She stepped closer. “Please. Don’t do this.”

He didn’t move. Didn’t even acknowledge her.

“Let him go.”

Ben let out a slow, long breath. Then, finally—after a long pause—he yanked Mitch back over the ledge and dropped him onto the floor like a sack of shit.

The second he hit the ground, a dark stain spread across his pants.

Y/N wrinkled her nose. "Jesus." Mitch scrambled back against the wall, sobbing, hands shaking. Ben crouched down in front of him, voice dangerously low.

“Next time” He tilted his head, eyes burning into Mitch’s. “I won’t hold back.”

Mitch frantically nodded, barely able to breathe between his pathetic hiccups.

Ben stood, then turned to Edgar. “Give her a different outfit,” he ordered, voice sharp. “Now.”

He brushed past her like nothing had happened. Y/N clenched her fists. “You didn’t have to do that.” At that, he turned back, eyebrow raised.

“Like I said before,” he drawled, arms crossing over his chest. “Everything here is my business.”

Then, without another word, he walked off.

---

That night, Y/N found herself standing outside his door.

She had been lingering for a few minutes now, ear pressed against the wood, making sure he was alone.

Finally, after a deep breath, she knocked. Heavy footsteps. Then, the door swung open.

Ben leaned against the frame, shirtless, again, just a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips. His eyes flickered over her, taking in her nervous stance, the way she fiddled with the hem of her oversized hoodie.

“What?” he asked, voice gruff.

Y/N swallowed. “I, uh… I wanted to talk to you.”

His eyebrow quirked up. For a second, she thought he might laugh. Instead, he let out a slow exhale, then stepped back, opening the door wider

“Fine,” he muttered.

She walked in, ducking under his arm as he held the door open.

Just as she did, she caught movement from the corner of her eye—

The twins standing down the hall, watching. Next to him, Sara, one of Vought’s assistants, looked between Y/N and Ben, eyes wide with curiosity.

Ben, the bastard, smirked—then shot them a wink before shutting the door behind them.

Ben barely looked up as he snorted a line off the coffee table.

“What do you wanna talk about, Angel?” he asked, voice rough from the coke.

Y/N hesitated. Her hands were clammy. Her heart raced.

“I, uh… wanted to thank you.”

Ben snorted, wiping his nose. “Not needed.” He leaned back on the couch, stretching out like he owned the damn place—because he did. Arms spreading along the back of the couch, his whole body lounging like a king on his throne.

His legs spread slightly, his sweatpants riding low, the fabric stretching at the groin. Thick, heavy. Obvious.

The dim light carved shadows along his stomach, every muscle flexing as he moved. Broad chest, sculpted abs, strong thighs pressing against the fabric.

The room suddenly felt too warm

“That it?”

“No,” she said quickly.

He finally looked at her. “Then spit it out.”

Y/N took a breath. And then, before she could talk herself out of it—

“I want you to… take it.”

Ben’s brow furrowed. “Take what?"

She swallowed. “My… my virginity.”

The room went silent. Ben finally looked to her fully, brow raised, expression blank. She panicked. Started rambling.

“I—I mean, if you want,” she stammered. “I just—I’ve been thinking about it. Without it, no man will see me as an easy target. And you don’t get involved in you... eh hook ups, so it’s not like there’ll be weird emotions—”

Ben stared. Her face was on fire.

“It’s just a business transaction,” she continued quickly. “I don’t like you like that, so I won’t fall in love or—”

A scoff. Then a laugh.

Ben leaned forward, elbows on his knees, watching her like she had just said the dumbest thing he’d ever heard.

“Lemme get this straight.” His voice was low, rough with amusement. “You want me to fuck you, just so you’re not a virgin anymore?”

Y/N pressed her lips together. “…Yes.”

He let out a slow, deep exhale, shaking his head.

Then, after a beat—

“That,” he said, licking his lips, “is the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard.”

Those words felt like a hit to her face, tears started to form, "I eh, well please just think about it." She said quickly and then turned to walk out.

Ben's eyes followed her. Wondering why she'd asked him.

--

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

**Chapter One: Hell’s Angel**

The club reeked of sweat, booze, and cheap cologne. Neon lights flickered, barely cutting through the haze of cigarette smoke curling toward the ceiling. The bass from the speakers thrummed in Soldier Boy’s chest, but he barely noticed. He was nursing a glass of bourbon, legs spread wide, one arm thrown over the back of the booth.

The bartender had sent some groupie over—a redhead with legs up to her neck and stars in her eyes. She giggled, twirling a strand of hair around her finger, but he wasn’t paying attention. He had bigger problems.

Like the girl sitting across from him.

Vought called her Hell's Angel, which was some real ironic shit, given that she walked in here with a damn rosary around her wrist.

Her outfit told a different story: a black leather mini-skirt, ripped fishnets, a cropped tank with “God Is Dead” scribbled across it in red. She had the look—Vought had made sure of that—but everything else about her screamed not one of us.

But the world and Ben would soon start to call her, just Angel.

“You’re shitting me, right?” Soldier Boy’s voice was rough, slurred slightly from the whiskey. He gestured at her, as if the mere sight of her offended him. “This is what they sent me?”

She stiffened, crossing her arms over her chest. “I didn’t exactly ask for this gig either, sir.” Her voice was clear, cutting through the noise around them. She had a little bite. He’d give her that.

“Then why the hell are you here?”

A muscle in her jaw twitched. “Money.”

Soldier Boy snorted. “Yeah? You don’t look like the type.”

She glared. “Not all of us get a fat check for pretending to be America’s hero.”

That made him laugh—loud and mean. “You got some balls, sweetheart.” He took another sip of his drink, then pointed at her. “Alright, Angel, what’s your deal? What do you do?”

Her hands clenched into fists on the table. “Electromagnetic manipulation.”

He raised an eyebrow. “English, sweetheart.”

She rolled her eyes. “I control electricity. Short-circuit things. Cause blackouts. That kind of stuff.”

Soldier Boy exhaled through his nose. “Great. So if I need a goddamn lightbulb changed, you’re my girl.”

The sarcasm didn’t seem to rattle her, which annoyed him even more. “You want a demonstration?” she asked, voice sugar-sweet.

Without waiting for permission, she flicked her wrist toward the neon sign above the bar. Sparks shot from the wiring, the glow flickering before the whole thing popped and died, plunging half the club into darkness.

Shouting. Chaos. The bartender swore. Someone tripped over a chair.

Soldier Boy just whistled low.

She smirked, satisfaction flickering in her eyes before she quickly wiped it away. “Can I go now?”

“Not so fast, sweetheart,” he said, leaning forward, his grin wolfish. “Vought wants us to be a team. That means we need to—what do they always say?—get along.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m not here to be your friend.”

“Trust me, I’d rather chew glass.” He knocked back the rest of his drink, then slapped the glass down on the table. “But Vought’s footing the bill for your mom’s meds, right?”

She flinched—so quick he almost missed it.

“Yeah,” he said, dragging out the word. “I know why you’re here.” He leaned back, stretching his arms along the booth. “So I suggest you play nice, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want them cutting you off.”

The hatred in her eyes was delicious. Good. This was gonna be fun.

--

Vought Tower was nothing like she’d imagined. It wasn’t just a building—it was a goddamn kingdom. Floor-to-ceiling windows, gold-trimmed decor, and a constant swarm of assistants, PR reps, and corporate types pretending the world revolved around them.

Y/N had been here for months now, long enough to get used to the bullshit.

She had learned two things fast:

1. The public liked her, but they *loved* Soldier Boy and Crimson Countess more.

2. She didn’t give a shit.

Vought could dress her up however they wanted—make her wear leather, throw her into staged bar fights, and slap a rebellious nickname on her—but the public wasn’t stupid. They saw through it.

Her ex-boyfriend hadn’t helped.

One interview. One smug asshole telling the world she was a prude, that he hadn’t been “allowed to touch her,” that she was just some Catholic good girl pretending to be something she wasn’t.

That was all it took. The media went wild.

“Hell’s Angel? More like Heaven’s Nun.”

“America’s Sweetheart? Or America’s Ice Queen?”

It was all bullshit, but she ignored it. As long as Vought kept her mom’s medical bills covered, she didn’t care what people thought.

The Twins, though? They thought it was hilarious. That’s how she ended up outside Soldier Boy’s room.

"He needs you. Urgent.” That’s what the twins had told her, all wide-eyed and serious. And like an idiot, she believed them.

The second she pushed the door open, she knew she’d fucked up.

Soldier Boy was naked. Completely, unapologetically, stark-fucking-naked.

Not alone, either.

Three girls—two blondes and a brunette—were tangled in silk sheets, their bare limbs draped over him like he was some goddamn king. The room smelled like liquor, smoke, and sex.

Soldier Boy barely even looked surprised.

She? She stood there frozen, mortified, her brain short-circuiting worse than the neon sign she’d fried back at the club.

One of the blondes giggled. “Well, well. Looks like someone got lost.”

Soldier Boy just smirked. That smug, lazy smirk that made her want to slap him. “Ah sweetheart, I'll be right with you, I'll finish Cathy..."

"Kate." One of them corrected him.

"Kate," He started over "I'll finish her and your next."

Her stomach twisted. Her face burned. She wanted to disappear. To run, to burn her eyes as he did what he said and just... get along with it.

The girls giggled and moaned.

Her jaw clenched. She straightened, forced her expression blank, and leveled him with a cold stare. “Vought says you’re supposed to be a role model. Guess that’s a joke too.”

Then she turned on her heel and walked out. The laughter rang in her ears long after she shut the door behind her.

Inside the room, the girls were still talking, their voices muffled but clear enough.

"I read she’s a virgin," one of them giggled. "Guess she couldn’t handle you, huh?"

Another one chimed in, fake sympathy dripping from her voice. "Yeah, Soldier Boy, better stay with us. You need a real woman."

More laughter. More of that smug, taunting amusement, like she was some naive little girl who didn’t belong here.

She clenched her fists and walked on.

--

The smell of coffee and fried bacon filled the kitchen as Y/N sat at the counter, idly stirring her cereal. She wasn’t really hungry, but she had an early morning photoshoot, and skipping meals would just give Vought’s PR team another excuse to ride her ass.

She was halfway through a spoonful when he walked in. Y/N tried to focus on her breakfast, but her brain had other ideas.

Ben.

Fresh out of bed, looking like he didn’t give a single shit about anything.

His robe was wide open, showing off that broad, muscled chest, and the only thing he had on was a pair of low-slung training pants. The man didn’t believe in modesty. Never had. He strolled through the kitchen like this all the time, half-dressed, yawning, scratching his chest, stretching his arms over his head—like he knew people were looking.

Ben was right there, standing across from her, half-dressed like he always was.

Robe hanging open, coffee cup in hand, his chest on full display. And lower—her gaze betrayed her, flickering down to where his sweatpants hung dangerously low on his hips.

And. Well.

Jesus Christ.

Was every man blessed like that?

She had no frame of reference, no real experience outside of a few PG-13 make-out sessions, but something told her that what she was seeing was... above average.

Way above.

Memories of that night flashed in her head—walking into his room, seeing him in full glory, tangled up with those three girls. The sounds. The way he barely even looked surprised, just amused by her reaction.

She swallowed hard.

Heat crept up her neck, and she forced herself to look away, staring down into her cereal like it held the secrets of the universe.

But it was too late.

She could feel his smirk before she even looked up.

“Something on your mind, Angel?” Ben’s voice was slow, thick with amusement.

Her stomach dropped.

Shit.

Slowly, she lifted her eyes, only to find him watching her with that cocky expression—like he’d caught her red-handed and was enjoying every second of it.

“Not at all,” she said quickly, too quickly.

His smirk widened. “Huh. Could’ve sworn you were staring.” He took a casual sip of his coffee, gaze never leaving hers. “Lotta thoughts running through that pretty little head of yours?”

She gritted her teeth. “You’re disgusting.”

He chuckled. “Disgusting?” He gestured at himself lazily. “Sweetheart, I saw you looking. I get it. You got questions.”

Y/N’s face burned." I don’t have questions.”

“Sure,” he said, unconvinced. Then, just to be a bastard, he adjusted the himself in his sweatpants.

Her eyes betrayed her again.

His laughter was damn near sinful. “You’re adorable.”

She shot up from her seat, gripping the edge of the counter like it was the only thing keeping her from electrocuting his ass right there. “I was not looking,” she snapped, voice high with mortification.

Ben leaned in, voice dropping to a mock whisper. “Angel, if you’re curious, all you gotta do is ask.”

Her hands sparked.

He grinned. “Careful. Wouldn’t wanna short-circuit the place just ‘cause you got flustered.”

He grabbed a mug, pouring himself another coffee like he didn’t have a care in the world and sat next to her. “Big morning, Angel?”

That damn nickname. He only ever used it when he was feeling extra annoying.

She didn’t look up. “Photoshoot.”

He snorted. “Lemme guess—more fake ‘bad girl’ bullshit?” He leaned against the counter, taking a slow sip. “Think they’ll finally give you a miniskirt that doesn’t make you look like a Catholic schoolgirl trying too hard?”

She gritted her teeth, forcing herself to stay calm. Ignore him. Don’t take the bait.

But he wasn’t done.

He smirked over the rim of his cup. “Or maybe they’ll just put you in a nun outfit. Wouldn’t want America’s Virgin to give anyone the wrong idea.”

Her grip on the spoon tightened.

He loved this. Ever since her ex went running to the press, Ben had made it his personal mission to tease her about it every chance he got. And in private? He was worse.

"Twenty-one and still pure as snow," he drawled, shaking his head. "Jesus, sweetheart. What are you waiting for, marriage?"

She knew he was trying to get a rise out of her. She wasn’t going to give him one.

Calmly, she took another bite of cereal, chewing slowly before answering. “What I do or don’t do isn’t your business, Ben.”

He chuckled. “Oh, sweetheart—everything in this place is my business.”

Her eyes flicked up to him for just a second—just a second—and he caught her.

That cocky smirk spread wider.

He saw the way her gaze had drifted, how she’d let it skim over his chest, down to his abs, before snapping back up.

Shit

Ben leaned in, setting his coffee down on the counter beside her. Close enough that she could smell the faint traces of whiskey still lingering on his breath from last night.

“Careful, Angel,” he murmured, voice thick with amusement. “Look too long, and people might start thinking you’re curious.”

Her face burned.

She inhaled sharply, grabbed her plate, and stormed out of the kitchen without another word.

Ben’s laughter followed her down the hall.

She hated him.

She hated him so damn much.

--

The studio lights blazed hot overhead as Y/N shifted in her pose, adjusting to the photographer’s demands.

It was supposed to be a simple shoot. Just another set of promotional images—leather, fishnets, smoky eyeliner, the whole rebel girl act Vought was still trying to push.

But from the moment she walked in, something felt off.

The photographer, some industry creep named Mitch, had barely looked her in the eye when they introduced him. Instead, his gaze dragged over her body, assessing her like she was just another prop.

“Alright, sweetheart,” Mitch called, circling her like a vulture. “Let’s see some attitude. Hands on your hips, chin up—yeah, that’s it.”

She adjusted.

He frowned.

“Nah, nah, let me—”

Before she could react, his hands were on her.

Instead of just directing her, he physically grabbed her waist, twisting her slightly. “Need you to angle this way.”

Y/N stiffened. She didn’t like being touched. Not like this. Not by him. She stepped away subtly. “You can just tell me what you need.”

Mitch ignored her.

The shoot continued, and every few shots, he found another excuse to touch her. Adjusting her stance, tilting her chin, running his hands over her arms under the guise of “fixing” her pose.

Each time, Y/N moved away. Each time, he did it again. Trying to get her into very intimate poses and stands.

Something in her gut twisted.

Then, when she tried to step back again, his grip tightened She froze.

The overhead lights flickered.

Mitch smiled like nothing was wrong. “Relax, sweetheart. You’re too stiff. Here let me help you relax..."

Her breathing picked up. “I said—”

Before she could finish, he shoved her back—into the wall.

The impact knocked the breath from her lungs. Panic slammed into her, sharp and blinding. His hands roamed lower.

He yanked at the fishnets Vought made her wear, his fingers tearing through the fabric.

“No,” she choked out, begging. “Please—”

His grip was firm. He wasn’t letting go. Terror locked up her limbs.

Then, all at once— The entire studio exploded in light.

The bulbs burst in a violent flash. Sparks rained down from the ceiling. The room hummed with electricity, static crackling in the air like a coming storm.

Mitch yelped, stumbling back. That was all she needed.

She ran.

--

Ben was still at the kitchen table, halfway through his coffee, when the lights flickered. At first, he thought it was just her.

Angel had been moody as shit that morning—not that he minded, it was fun to mess with her—and when she got worked up, electronics tended to act up. But this?

This was different.

The entire building pulsed like a power surge was about to take out the grid. The bulbs in the ceiling buzzed, flickering erratically. For a second, he thought they might explode.

Then, just as quickly as it started, it was over.

Ben raised an eyebrow but didn’t think too much of it. Not until a blur of black and leather came tearing past the kitchen.

She was running, eyes wild, breath ragged, shoulders shaking.

The coffee mug hit the table with a sharp *clink* as Ben stood. He barely had time to process it before instinct kicked in—follow her.

She was halfway down the hall when he caught up, grabbing her arm. “Whoa, whoa—”

The second he touched her, she lashed out. She fought.

Not the usual way—no smartass comments, no playful shoves. She fought like she was fighting for her life.

Ben had seen her in combat, had watched her take down men twice her size without hesitation. But this? This was different.

She was panicked. Wild. Desperate to get away.

“Hey! Angel!" he barked, gripping her tighter. She kept struggling, arms flailing, her hands sparking dangerously.

Ben sighed, then hauled her over his shoulder like a damn sack of potatoes. She kicked. She screamed. She damn near electrocuted him.

He didn’t let go.

Back in the kitchen, he set her down on the counter, hands firm on her waist to keep her still. “Alright, enough, ” he snapped. “What the hell happened?”

She wouldn’t look at him. Her breathing was too fast.Her hands were shaking so badly she had to clutch the counter. She looked like she was on the verge of collapsing. Her face and eyes puff from crying hysterical.

And then—he saw it.

The ripped fishnets. The fabric, torn at the thigh. The bruises already forming on her legs.

Ben went still. Something inside him turned cold.

His jaw clenched. “Who?”

Y/N swallowed hard, still refusing to meet his eyes.

His grip tightened. “Who did this to you?"

--

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

It started with a mirror. A mirror Dean found in one of the bunker's storage rooms. He was searching for something, but when he walked in front of it, he saw something.

The mirror wasn’t supposed to be anything special. Just another relic gathering dust in one of the bunker’s many storage rooms. Dean had found it wedged between a cursed painting and a stack of forgotten lore, its gilded edges dulled with age. But when he wiped away the dust and caught his reflection, he wasn’t alone.

There was a woman on the other side.

At first, Dean thought he was seeing things—maybe one too many beers, maybe sleep deprivation playing tricks on him. But when you blinked, startled, and took a cautious step closer, he knew this was something else.

“Uh… hello?”

You hesitated. “You can see me?”

Your voice was soft, uncertain, but real. Dean pressed his fingers against the glass, watching as you mirrored the movement. There was no cold surface, no resistance. Just the warmth of your gaze meeting his.

Over the weeks that followed, they talked. Late at night, when Sam was asleep and the world felt quiet. The mirror, it turned out, wasn’t just a window—it was a door. But only their voices could pass through, their hands always stopping short of touch. You lived in a world where Supernatural was just a TV show, where the bunker was nothing more than a set. You knew him before he even spoke his name.

“You’re not real,” you'd whispered once, your fingers tracing the edge of the glass. “But you feel real.”

Dean laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Right back at you, sweetheart.”

You fell in love the way people do when reality feels too far away—slowly, recklessly, with words that carried the weight of something impossible.

You told him about your world, the normalcy of it, the simplicity. You talked about your exams, interest facts what he would say it's too nerdy if Sam would talk about it, but it was you, and he thought it's adorable.

He was there everytime when your parents fought over something meaningless again. He comforted you with words only he could comfort with.

He told her about hunts, about ghosts and demons, about the endless fight.

You were there for him when everything is went south and he fell into the rabbit hole of his own depression. He told you things he didn't talked about with his own brother.

And somehow, despite the chasm between you, it felt like you belonged to the same place.

But love, Dean knew, wasn’t enough. Not when it was built on something fragile. The mirror was magic, but magic had a way of breaking.

One night, as the song on your record player hummed low in the background, you whispered, “This isn’t healthy, Dean.”

His throat tightened. “I know.”

You didn’t say it, but you both felt it. The end creeping in, inevitable like the sunrise.

The last time he saw you, you stood there with tears brimming in your eyes, your fingers pressing desperately against the glass like maybe, just maybe, this time it would let you through. But it never did.

Dean rested his palm against yours, his voice barely a breath. “Sweetheart, if things were different…”

You nodded. “I know.”

And then, like all things too good to last, he lifted the axe in his hand.

The last thing Dean saw before the pieces fell away was your reflection, fractured and fading, and the way you mouthed his name like a prayer.

Then you were gone.

The mirror lay in ruins at his feet, nothing but shards and silence. Dean let out a breath, heavy and aching, and turned away before the weight of it could settle.

After all, dreams weren’t meant to last forever.

I'M LITERALLY CRYING RN I'M SO SORRY!!!!

This drabble is inspired by the wonderful song 'Ceilings' from Lizzy McAlpine, so... HATE HER, NOT ME 😭

tags: @emeraldcrs @kamisobsessed @tequilai @soldiersgirl @deansfavorite @pieandflannel

(if you want to added or remowed, just tell me 🫶)

I also made this into a C.AI bot if you want to cry babes 🩷😅

Heartbreaking 😭💔

Craving You Revised Edition for 2025

I am revising my older fanfictions to make them better since i am learning more and more every day about writing, I dont have a beta so all mistakes are clearly mine.

Warnings: Bathroom gossip, spilt coffee,

Starring Jensen Ackles, Y/N McKenzie, Ellen, Madison, Kali, Bobby, Crowley, Jo (Y/N's best friend) Jeffery Dean Morgan,

Title: Burnt Coffee and Betrayals Chapter One: Spilled Truths

The moment I opened the door to the ladies' room, the chatter inside came to an abrupt halt.

All four women inside—fellow coworkers huddled near the sinks—turned to look at me, their tense expressions shifting to a mixture of relief and curiosity.

“Y/N, did you hear about Kali?” one of them asked quickly. I think her name was Ellen, though I hadn’t worked closely with her before.

I shook my head as I stepped toward the sink, scrubbing at the unknown sticky residue I’d picked up while signing for a package. “No,” I said casually, trying not to sound too curious. “What about her?”

Ellen stepped forward, eyes gleaming like a cat that had just swallowed the canary. “Kali—you know, the woman who started just last month—she came out of a meeting with the CEO this morning. And according to Madison, his secretary… she’s been promoted. Head of our department. With a huge raise, too.”

The soap slipped slightly from my fingers.

I froze mid-rinse, staring at the stream of water like it might somehow rewrite what I’d just heard.

“She—what?” I asked flatly, not even attempting to hide the disbelief in my voice.

Ellen nodded solemnly. “Yep. Straight from the top. Madison said she saw the paperwork herself.”

“I see,” I said, though the words barely left my mouth.

The rest of the room fell into a murmur of side-eyes and whispered theories, but I didn’t stay to entertain them. I dried my hands quickly and walked out, my thoughts racing too fast to keep up.

I was beyond mad.

Try pissed. Actually—no. Not pissed.

Betrayed.

This place wasn’t supposed to be like that. We were hired with the same expectations—equal footing, shared goals, transparency. At least, that’s what we were told. Hell, I’d been here five years. Five years of loyalty, late nights, and sacrificing weekends.

Five years of busting my ass.

And Kali? She waltzes in, flashes that sugar-dipped smile, and suddenly she's head of the damn department?

A position they swore no one was getting. A raise they told us the company couldn’t afford. When I asked months ago, Madison had practically ushered me out of the office like I was crazy for even bringing it up.

I’d dropped it. Because I believed them.

Because we were supposed to be a team.

I felt the rage coil in my chest like a tightened spring. My hands curled into fists, nails digging into the meat of my palms. My jaw clenched. My vision tunneled slightly. And when I blinked, I realized I had been sitting at my desk the whole time, staring blankly at my computer screen.

I tried to focus—anything to slow my breathing. A pencil spun anxiously in my right hand, thudding rhythmically against the desk in time with my pounding pulse.

What now?

Confront the boss? March into Kali’s office and punch her smug little face?

Quit?

But no... I couldn’t quit. This job was my life. My career. My reputation.

I had built something here, damn it.

Still, the injustice burned like acid in my veins. I leaned forward, pressing my forehead against the cool surface of my desk. My arms dropped to my sides, heavy and defeated. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to hold back the throb behind them before it spiraled into a full-on stress headache.

No good would come of losing it here.

I needed air. I needed calm.

I needed Starbucks.

Fifteen minutes later, I walked into my favorite location like a woman on a mission. If coffee couldn’t fix my life, at least it could numb the edges for a little while.

Vanilla Bean Frappuccino. My go-to. My one consistent comfort.

The smell hit me before the door even closed behind me—roasted espresso, sugar, warm vanilla... heaven.

I ordered, waited, smiled politely through gritted teeth—and of course, they messed it up.

Soy with no sugar? Seriously?

I bit down the snark rising in my throat and stepped aside to wait as they remade it. Again.

“How hard is it to make the same drink every day?” I muttered under my breath, crossing my arms.

Eventually, my corrected order was placed on the counter. I exhaled, finally feeling a small victory.

That lasted all of two seconds.

Because the moment I turned toward the door, relief in my grasp… it happened.

I felt it before I saw it—the cold shock of the drink slamming into my chest, ice and whipped cream exploding against my blouse, dripping down my sides.

“Seriously?” I said sharply, voice tight with disbelief. “You have got to be kidding me!”

I took one step back, ready to unleash the full force of my pent-up fury on whoever the hell had just ruined the one thing I was looking forward to.

But then I looked up.

And my breath caught.

Tall. Dark jeans. Soft flannel shirt. A guilty expression and wide green eyes staring straight at me.

Him.

Well… this just got complicated.

🥺💖💖💖

@sillyvasha @puellaxun @yukiyee-akian @asneakyobserver @avasugarcotton @callme-mag @theblueshark @paws-of-the-quill @fromashesweriseuphiddenones @itskenwaybitch squishing you all in a hug

Awwww, thank youuuuuu🥹🥹🥹💖💖💖

@brasideios @cippicat @nyaidonnahajah @soqueengardener @emoscot @the-bogginses-are-gay @memoriesofafallen @avasugarcotton @silkdragonwings1 @storm89 @phantomslink @fanfenomenon @evenwhenihadnothingihad-stucky @fromashesweriseuphiddenones you are all amazing!!!

tysm! <333

@mistyjessart @mace-waz-here @stormy-days-27 @lorax-devito @that--elf

@apurplesloth @bylerlipglances @aramossy @condohavenoking @a-victorian-girl

@iwanderbecauseimlost @numenoria @abillionblorbos @elle-greenaways-wife + all my other amazing moots! <333

awww thanks for the tag!!

@calextis @purpleminusred @silversword7000 @bagofpopcorn @that--elf @deadwardynamic @home-of-sexual-and-dumb-of-ass @spocks-got-a-glock @mace-waz-here @nonbinarytheatrekid07 @salubriousbean

love yall <3

aww thank you, this was such a wonderful surprise 🫶🫶🫶

@obsessingoverl @fionas-frenzy @fiveminutetrash @strrawberrywaffles @the-tech-turn @only-my-unexistent-fiances @fictionalmenjusthitdifferent @willaminabaggins + my other moots because I don't have a list and I know im forgetting ppl T^T

I really needed the hug 🥹🫶🏼

ilysm beanie

@sev-says-so @beskar-of-a-bygone-era @chibai06 @cyarikaskywalker @the-art-of-psalrmararue and idc Beanie alr tagged you cause I ALSO want to give you a hug @fictionalmenjusthitdifferent

want a hug!!? @hellhoundmaggie

@salubriousbean

@fictionalmenjusthitdifferent

I am double tagging but I have like less than 5 mutually so yeah 😭😂 more hugs!!

@cymatile

@cyarikaskywalker

@crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf

@maylilithreign

@hellhoundmaggie right back atcha

@feral-ferrule @sandcoffiin @eobe @lonewolflupe @ghostymarni @thecoffeelorian @thepinkwool @leapingbadger @vimse @eclec-tech @techhasmjolnir @hshfsjzjsgj @leenathegreengirl @legacygirlingreen @littletroggo @freesia-writes @orangez3stt @boredzum-671 @thora-sniper @cw80831 @covert1ntrovert

And everyone I'm not tagging cause my brain can't remember the exact spelling of your URL right now.

Tysm 🥰🫶🏻 @crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf

@gars-weaponeer @ghostymarni @the-rain-on-kamino @badbatchposts @leenathegreengirl @legacygirlingreen @returnofthepineapple @sunshinesdaydream @ireadwithmyears @rex-meshla @cloneflo99 @djarins-cyare

And so many more i forget to tag. You're awesome 🫶🏻

Thank you so much, Tina; hugging you right back!

There are so many people I want to tag! Big squishes for these beautiful folks:

@alltheglitterandtheroar @auntie-venom @djarinmuse @for-a-longlongtime @fromthedeskoftheraven

@harriedandharassed @hauntedhowlett @ishabull @jessthebaker @kyberblade

@lahooozaherr @lotusbxtch @murder-wife @myownwholewildworld @nathanbatemanfucker

@newpathwrites @officer-tk593 @penvisions @purrpledesblog @roughdaysandart

@saradika @stardusthuntress @stardustrebels @starwarslover-81 @the-blind-assassin-12

@thehandalorian @the-mandawhor1an @toomanytookas @wrathkitty @zaddymandalorian

Thank you lovely @djarins-cyare you are always so kind 💖 Big hugs back to you and passing some along to @insomniamamma @grogusmum @oonajaeadira @moonlight-prose @massivecolorspygiant @beccaplaying @pspspscal @lareinadehades @seawhisperer @coulsons-fullmetal-cellist @nuvoleincielo @sistasarah-sallysaidso @seasonschange-butpeopledont @evenstaredits and YOU if you're reading this 🤗

Thank you! ❤️🤗

Passing hugs along to @fizzyxcustard @enchantingkryptoniteheart-blog @littlesweetdressmaker @bookworm-with-coffee @glassgulls @louk419 @asgardianhobbit98 @aduialel @arawen898 and anyone else ♥️

Aw thanks and same to you @evenstaredits💖💖🤩

Passing this along to @its-moopoint @its-a-state-of-angst @harmionesworld @colemansdimple @cant-resist-temptation @jadesassenach @rey-jake-therapist @journeymode

@arawen898 Thank you babe, hugs back to you!! ❤️❤️ I pass this to @loveisloveislove76 @its-moopoint @claws-and-all @booksnwriting @grandlovescheme ❤️

Aww thanks @jadesassenach !! I pass to @faebaneofmyexistence @tremsing82 @acourtofthought @goforth-ladymidnight @impossibelle @gwynethberdarasupremecy @princesserene @thefatesofspring AND TONS MORE OF YOU 🥹🥹

Thank you @booksnwriting

I pass to: @mika-no-sekai-blog @sadiegirl2021 @consultinghuntresshasthetardis @andarthiel @infinifi @climbthemountain2020 @nestaarcheronladydeath @theladyofbloodshed @mirandasidefics

And any of my other mutuals who need it 💖

Thank you @impossibelle and hugs back to you

I pass to: @nocasdatsgay @secret-third-thing @climbthemountain2020 @thelov3lybookworm @talesofadragon @starsxblazing @berryzxx

And anyone who needs it💕

Thank you so much sweetheart!!

A big hug to @crazyunsexycool @cassiopeiasdaughter @darkserenity24 and everyone who needs it these days🩷🎀🎀

🥺🥺 thank you for including me!!

Sending hugs to: @brilliantdumb @goldylions @navybrat817 @jobean12-blog @writing-for-marvel @littleseasiren @ozwriterchick

Sending hugs back to @crazyunsexycool

Sending other hugs to: @kayhi808 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @sosa2imagines @soelstress @ramp-it-up @nekoannie-chan @nameless-ken @vioplay19 @writing-for-marvel

Sure I’ve missed some but to everyone else, a hug if you need it

A big hug to @ozwriterchick 🤗🫂😊❤️

Sending hugs to- @mrvl-addict @iwudbutnah @sergeantbarnessdoll @kpopgirlbtssvt @thezombieprostitute @mercurial-chuckles @sarahowritesostucky @nekoannie-chan

Thank you for the hug @sosa2imagines 🥰🩵

Sending hugs to- @buck-star @kpopgirlbtssvt @stxrrylunatic @cevansbaby-dove @navybrat817 @jobean12-blog @buckets-and-trees @marvelavengerspovs1 @marvelobsessed134 @lives-in-midgard

Thank you @sergeantbarnessdoll

@cheynovak

@jackles010378

@cutedisneygirl

@winchesterwild78

@kamisobsessed

@lightofraye

@walkergirlsposts

Thanks @cevansbaby-dove

@jackles010378

@winchesterwild78

@roseblue373

@mostlymarvelgirl

@zepskies

@deanwinchestersgirl8734

Awww thank you @cevansbaby-dove and @cheynovak here's a big hug from me.to you guys too 🥰 🫶🏻 ❤️ 🫂

@nescavaneckdaily @k-slla @kaleldobrev @janineb86 @deans-daydream @alternativeprincess94 @angelbabyyy99 @winchesterwild78 @suckitands33 @bettystonewell @roseblue373 @winharry @deans-queen

RED-EYE

Pairing: Jason Teague x Reader

Summary: Your best friend is getting married. Naturally, you’re running late for your flight back home to good old Smallville, Kansas, and so is the handsome stranger who saves you.

AN: Here’s my second to last entry for @jacklesversebingo!

**Remember that Smallville was circa early 2000s, the time of flip phones, physical clocks, and paper airplane tickets. Also, this story is going to be AU in certain ways from the season 4 storyline with Jason. (You’ll see.)

Jacklesverse Bingo Prompt: Running late for the same flight.

Posted on Patreon: 3/24/3025

Song Inspo: “First Time” by Lifehouse – in true 2000s alt-rock fashion.

Word Count: 4.8K

Tags/Warnings: Meet cute, fluff and hijinks, hint of college woes, twist ending~

Despite all your meticulous plans, you still managed to be late to the airport.

But you’d been prepared, damn it! Packed to perfection as you made sure you had everything for your trip with all your luggage laid out and ready to go for your flight.

You even had a sandwich waiting on the kitchen counter, along with a thermos full of ice-cold water and an apple for extra nutrition and sustenance. You were so damn prepared that you got cocky.

Loved this 🥰 I still haven't watched smallville yet 😣 or dawson's creek, life is getting in the way at the moment 🫣 but this was so good 🥰

An Arranged Marriage

Your parents told you when you were twelve. You’d seen lots of Disney and kid movies up until this point, so you thought you had a good idea of what being married to someone meant and how it was supposed to go. On top of that, you were taught how to be a hunter and use your unique set of abilities. 

The way they had explained why you, it had to do with Bastet and her desire to bridge the world of hunters and monsters. Not all monsters were evil or killed people. Some hunters saw this and acted accordingly, letting those monsters live. However, it was less than a handful, and Bastet was hoping for a better way to bridge the gap.

Paring: Dean x OCF Reader/You

Word Count: 12,828

Warning: Angst-LOTS, longing, Fluff, Dean being an ass, Car accident, Dean almost dies, Reader being utterly selfless, Sam being a sweetheart.

A/N: Found an interesting writing prompt - An Arranged Marriage, so, I ran with it. Sorry for the length, it literally kept going. I might write the other version that played out in my head and post it too.

----------------------------------------- For a while, you daydreamed about some handsome prince and a fairy tale life. You’d write out things in your personal journal, dreams of a child. When you’d watch movies with a romantic couple, you daydreamed it was Dean, even though you had no idea what he looked like or what kind of personality he had. You were a kid and so very naive. 

After graduating high school, you began going on hunts alone, having honed your abilities over the years. There was a freedom in it, without the politics of niceties during interactions. With other people, it was like a dance of words, testing to see what was okay to talk about and what not to talk about so you didn’t set someone off. Monsters were easy to deal with. Monsters were either good or bad. They didn’t have that gray area like humans did.

"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

CHEY 🥹 this was beautifully written and I could totally see Jensen reacting like that! I heard his voice in my head whilst reading the lines "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!"

@jackles010378 Thank you sweetheart 🥰 I'm glad you liked it. I think we all want and deserve someone who jump to our defence about our insecurities. This was such a lovely request too, I couldn't say no ❤️

Yeah we do! Not many out there that would do that but I reckon Jensen and Jared would defend anyone till they were blue in the face 🥰🥹