warning: 18+, age gap, daddy kink, condescending praise, mock sympathy, manipulation, p in v, cunnilingus
dbf!dean winchester who is only nice to you, and scares off anyone that even dares to look your way while he's around. he would be next to you every second of every day if he could.
dbf!dean winchester who calls you kid and babies you endlessly. you whine about it, pretending you hate it, though you know it gives you a certain type of guilty high that you search out in him. you don't know what your problem is, your dad is great.
dbf!dean winchester who holds your waist, moving you out of the when passing by you- except he's not moving you away, he's making sure his crotch presses right against your butt even though you flinch away at first in surprise.
dbf!dean winchester who calls you a spoiled brat, continues to spoils you anyway by bringing you your favourite treats at least three times a week.
dbf!dean winchester that hates your s/o. hates the way the look at you, the way they smile at you, the way they touch you. he hates the way you seem so oblivious about his feelings even after all this time.
dbf!dean winchester says you deserve way better than that sleazy s/o you keep seeing but never expands on what he means.
dbf!dean winchester who you notice is spending a lot more time at your house, under the guise of seeing your father, but ends up in your room every time.
dbf!dean winchester who comes over and consoles you after your father told him about your awful breakup with your ex, as if he didn't orchestrate it.
dbf!dean winchester who, in an effort to make you feel better, comments on how your ex was a literal piece of shit. you know he's right but it makes you mad so you argue with him, saying he knows nothing about your life. he doesn't take that well because, well,, he knows everything about you.
dbf!dean winchester who shuts your whining up with a kiss. it surprises you but you respond quickly. the not so innocent kiss leads to a hot make-out, palms dragging down his chest, fingers tangled in your hair, tugging harshly so he has better control, little moans slipping out of here and there that get louder when he deepens the kiss.
dbf!dean winchester who decides he's had enough of playing the long game and pushes you onto your bed while kissing you.
dbf!dean winchester who all but rips your clothes to shreds taking them off of you and then he's all over you, your lips, your face, your neck, your collarbone, your tits, your stomach
dbf!dean winchester who finds his way between your legs and nips, sucks and licks at you until you're writhing, crying and begging, drooling all over his chin and lips.
dbf!dean winchester who has waited too long for this and is extremely drunk on you.
dbf!dean winchester who is extremely intense and everywhere at once when he comes up for air, but still makes sure you really want this. next thing you know his fingers are pressed into your throat as he kisses you again.
dbf!dean winchester who practically makes you cry from the sheer size and thickness of him, wraps back around your throat to make both of you feel just a little bit higher.
dbf!dean winchester who fucks you like you've never been fucked before. you feel drunk and high all at the same time, a different type of intoxication- all you know is him. he has to keep your quiet with his other hand.
dbf!dean winchester who's never felt someone so perfect- someone so made for him. that's all he's telling you that too. look at you- just made for me aren't you, fuck you feel so good. meanwhile, you're a whining, babbling mess, but he doesn't care. that's it... tell me what you need baby. tell daddy what you need. you melt around him- for him.
dbf!dean winchester who watches your eyes roll back as he repeatedly hits that spongy spot inside of you, making your gasps, whimpers and moans get louder and louder.
dbf!dean winchester who makes you beg to come. after denying you a couple times, you're sobbing for him and he mocks you for it. saying things like, poor baby, aww are you gonna come, and use your words sweetheart, as he's kissing your tears away as he fucks you harder.
dbf!dean winchester who loves the way you completely engulf him when he finally gives you permission, the way he has to keep your mouth covered with one hand while still pressing into your heavily decorated throat with the other. he immediately comes after you, a loud moan of his own forcing its way through his lips so he has to kiss you to shut you both up.
dbf!dean winchester who, in all his experience, is the king of after care- not that you'd know. you're too far off into dream land.
dbf!dean winchester who sighs, shaking his head in partial disbelief as he tosses the rag somewhere on the floor after cleaning you off, and lays on your bed, snuggling you right into his chest and kissing your forehead. "get some sleep kid. you'll need it."
dividers by @condybunny gif by @deanwinchestersgirl87
did you guys miss meeee? ok this isn't cod but i've gotten into supernatural lately and i've been seeing this trend on tiktok and it gave me inspo to write again.
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The first time you meet him after moving in the apartment next to him he barely acknowledges your existence, only stopping for a moment, looking you up and down and then moving on, apparently having decided that you weren't a threat.
Bringing him a tray of homemade muffins has him looking at you suspiciously and only after sniffing them does he finally eat one. The only thanks you get is a half-pleasant sounding grunt between mouthfulls of muffins, he even picks up the crumbs.
After that you bring him cookies and a caraf of lemonade because last time he was almost choking with how fast he inhaled the food. It happens the same with the cookies, shoving handfulls of them into his mouth and then washing it down with lemonade, downing the entire thing in a few gulps.
Maybe it's your soft side acting up, but you get it into your head that poor Simon must be starving so you decide to keep feeding him. You learned his name after the fourth time bringing him food and sometimes when you're cooking something and hear his door open, you just pop your head out in the hallway and call him to taste test.
The first few times he entered your apartment he was a little apprehensive, refusing to sit down and keeping an eye on the door. Now he comes and goes during all the hours of the day, murmuring about having smelt something good. Sitting on your couch with a plate on his lap and eating contentedly while watching one of your favourite shows, staying longer and closer to you with each visit.
It's unfortunate that you left on vacation a day before he returned from a long deployment. Imagine your surprise when you come back late at night, exhausted after the long flight and plop onto your bed without turning on the lights. It's only after your eyes get used to the dark that you finally notice a dark shape at the end of the bed, his face obstructed, but the hunger in his eyes unmistakeable.
It's your fault really. Don't you know not to feed strays? They always come back for more.
Thinking about ghost's baby not having the typical emotional support blanket...
No, instead she has one of ghosts masks.
It had fallen out of his bed when he tossed it onto the table the night before. Long deployment and missing his family making ghost lose focus enough to not notice it. Of course, the next morning baby was trying to do anything but eat her breakfast as was her constant goal.
Ghost had only turned around for a moment, but he nearly dropped the skillet when he looked back to see his sweet little girl with his mask in her tiny pudgy hands.
"No, no, we don't touch that, pumpkinâ" ghost had tried to take the mask away. Thankfully one he rarely used, skull print directly on the balaclava instead of his hard-shell. It made him want to puke thinking of her holding that.
Only for baby to start wailing, little arms waving around and tiny feet kicking in despair.
Ghost had always had a weak spot for his daughter, no will to discipline her like you have. So a different mask, identical except for the fact this one has never seen battle, is placed into he hands while he coos "hey, it's okay sweetheart. Just had to get you a better one, yeah?"
When you saw your beloved daughter chewing on the mask and babbling happily, you and ghost had a long talk.
The official story is your daughter getting attached to ghosts Halloween costume, kid's can be so silly in their obsessions, right? Or, that's what you tell the kindergarten teachers when you sweet girl decides to wear the mask all around school.
Ghosts team quickly learned not to make jokes about the masks true origin after you tore price a new on in the front lawn.
masterlist | my AO3 account | more of âsupernaturalâ
Dbf!Dean who holds onto your thigh underneath the dinner table, letting his thumb brush over all your sensitive spots and moving his hand height and higher, all while your dad sits right across from you two.
Dbf!Dean who pushes himself up behind you while you do the dishes after dinner, your dad outside cleaning the grill. You can feel his growing hard on and his firm muscles thru his clothes, making the wetness just pool between your legs.
Dbf!Dean who presses down at the bulge that forms in your tummy whenever he pushes deep enough into you. He just loves seeing you whine about how big he is but how you can definitely handle every inch of him.
Dbf!Dean who likes fucking you while heâs got you in a headlock, making you unable to move from the overstimulation heâs putting you in. While you love being so close to him I to just getting way too much for you body to handle, but you wanted it didnât you?
Dbf!Dean who tells you heâs so proud of you whenever you show him how good you did in on a test for college. And go of course rewards you with burying his head between your legs for hours on end.
Dbf!Dean who slaps or pinches your ass whenever you walk by him and no ones looking, at the family barbecue or when he and your dad watch football on weekends and youâre so nice to bring them another beer. Right here beside your dad but heâs focused on the game so he wonât notice.
Dbf!Dean who pushes his fingers into your mouth whenever you start whining about literally anything during sex, or not during sex.
Guys I swear I do NOT have any issues with my dad
taglist: @needjoekeery @jason-vs-crowbar r @iloveneilperry @eidbcgduiajxbsu @rubyrubydoo09 @romydolly
"These pants have gotten too tight," Simon said, trying to close the buttons on his favourite pair of pants.
"Lose weight then," you mumbled, doing your hair in the bathroom mirror.
You paused, looking up at yourself. Your eyebrows furrow.
"Wait. Why did I say that?"
"You're right," Simon answered glumly. As you looked at him, you could see him looking at himself in the mirror, a big frown on his face.
"No, I didn't mean it!" you tried to argue.
"I'll lose weight right now." Slowly he lifted his shirt up over his stomach to show you the ribs now peeking through his skin.
"No... No...!" you muttered in your sleep, rolling around on the bed.
You were clearly in distress, mouth open and eyes squeezed together tightly. Simon knew what nightmares felt like, how real they could appear and so he just gently tucked you back in and brushed his hand up and down your arms.
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Hii Jem I donât know if youâre taking requests right now but could you do Simon or Price (or both:) ) taking care of reader with a stomach bug like she feels gross and horrible and doesnât want him to see her like that. Please and thank you. Kinda self indulgent since I have one myself đĽ˛
headcanons:
you feel gross
sweaty, achy. your mouth feels bad, tastes disgusting, and you feel like you stink
of course, you don't want john or simon near you
thank god they get up early. you've never been so grateful to wake up alone
both of your men run hot, which isn't entirely helpful at a time like this
because you're hot and cold and overheating and shivering. honestly, you're miserable. and you don't want them to touch you
of course, they eventually return
uncomfortably hot and sweaty
and hovering in concern because you haven't gotten out of bed yet why haven't you gotten out of bed yet?
and maybe you give a harsh little fuck off
and maybe john has to look at simon because simon will bite and you're too sick for this.
john makes the call. leave you in bed, check on you regularly, bring you whatever you might need
drinks (water or tea), soup or biscuits (easy to digest), and whatever snacks you're desperate for (i'm desperate for snacks rn)
of course, your men want to stay with you. they want to stay in the bed with you, checking your forehead whenever they feel like it. they want to be able to check on you without you throwing a pillow at them
john wants to give you everything you need, including space, but simon wants to be with you
in the room at least, watching you like you're dangerous (you're not dangerous, just snotty)
he sits in the chair (usually the laundry chair, not a cuck chair i swear) in the corner of the room, staring at you
and you're just sleeping. sometimes sitting up because you've got a cough stuck in your throat and it's uncomfortable
here's the thing, they miss you
you might be gross and sick and coughing up gross things. you might be overheating and sweaty and gross. your head might hurt and you might feel the urge to throw up every five minutes, but they miss you
all you have to do is give permission and they're climbing into bed with you
wrapping around you, fan blowing on your so you can try to stay cool. not too hot.
(it doesn't work, but having them there is comforting)
of course, both of them get sick
it's inevitable by the way they kiss your skin, kiss your lips. it's like they're trying to tempt fate, daring whatever is out there to get them sick
I just went camping and there was a cabin for bathrooms. And I forgot how many moths and spiders gathered there.
So imagine you and Simon go camping. He calls it glamping, though, since there is a bathroom, cabins (yes, there's a tent spot), and all this other jazz. But he'll admit, it's nice. It's quiet and relaxes him more than he's willing to admit.
And when night falls, you two make your way to the bathroom to wash up. ExpectâŚ
Simon, spends far too long in the bathroom. You two were just going to brush your teeth- and heâs been in their FAR too long.
Plus. Simon is the type of man too to outwardly say heâll be a bit even he need to do âstuffâ . But he hadnât said that.
So you peek into the multi stalled bathroom area. Simon is just standing near the sink looking at all the moths and creatures that have gathered in the bathroom from the lights and humidity. Fully entranced.
warning: 18+, age gap, daddy kink, condescending praise, mock sympathy, manipulation, p in v, cunnilingus
dbf!dean winchester who is only nice to you, and scares off anyone that even dares to look your way while he's around. he would be next to you every second of every day if he could.
dbf!dean winchester who calls you kid and babies you endlessly. you whine about it, pretending you hate it, though you know it gives you a certain type of guilty high that you search out in him. you don't know what your problem is, your dad is great.
dbf!dean winchester who holds your waist, moving you out of the when passing by you- except he's not moving you away, he's making sure his crotch presses right against your butt even though you flinch away at first in surprise.
dbf!dean winchester who calls you a spoiled brat, continues to spoils you anyway by bringing you your favourite treats at least three times a week.
dbf!dean winchester that hates your s/o. hates the way the look at you, the way they smile at you, the way they touch you. he hates the way you seem so oblivious about his feelings even after all this time.
dbf!dean winchester says you deserve way better than that sleazy s/o you keep seeing but never expands on what he means.
dbf!dean winchester who you notice is spending a lot more time at your house, under the guise of seeing your father, but ends up in your room every time.
dbf!dean winchester who comes over and consoles you after your father told him about your awful breakup with your ex, as if he didn't orchestrate it.
dbf!dean winchester who, in an effort to make you feel better, comments on how your ex was a literal piece of shit. you know he's right but it makes you mad so you argue with him, saying he knows nothing about your life. he doesn't take that well because, well,, he knows everything about you.
dbf!dean winchester who shuts your whining up with a kiss. it surprises you but you respond quickly. the not so innocent kiss leads to a hot make-out, palms dragging down his chest, fingers tangled in your hair, tugging harshly so he has better control, little moans slipping out of here and there that get louder when he deepens the kiss.
dbf!dean winchester who decides he's had enough of playing the long game and pushes you onto your bed while kissing you.
dbf!dean winchester who all but rips your clothes to shreds taking them off of you and then he's all over you, your lips, your face, your neck, your collarbone, your tits, your stomach
dbf!dean winchester who finds his way between your legs and nips, sucks and licks at you until you're writhing, crying and begging, drooling all over his chin and lips.
dbf!dean winchester who has waited too long for this and is extremely drunk on you.
dbf!dean winchester who is extremely intense and everywhere at once when he comes up for air, but still makes sure you really want this. next thing you know his fingers are pressed into your throat as he kisses you again.
dbf!dean winchester who practically makes you cry from the sheer size and thickness of him, wraps back around your throat to make both of you feel just a little bit higher.
dbf!dean winchester who fucks you like you've never been fucked before. you feel drunk and high all at the same time, a different type of intoxication- all you know is him. he has to keep your quiet with his other hand.
dbf!dean winchester who's never felt someone so perfect- someone so made for him. that's all he's telling you that too. look at you- just made for me aren't you, fuck you feel so good. meanwhile, you're a whining, babbling mess, but he doesn't care. that's it... tell me what you need baby. tell daddy what you need. you melt around him- for him.
dbf!dean winchester who watches your eyes roll back as he repeatedly hits that spongy spot inside of you, making your gasps, whimpers and moans get louder and louder.
dbf!dean winchester who makes you beg to come. after denying you a couple times, you're sobbing for him and he mocks you for it. saying things like, poor baby, aww are you gonna come, and use your words sweetheart, as he's kissing your tears away as he fucks you harder.
dbf!dean winchester who loves the way you completely engulf him when he finally gives you permission, the way he has to keep your mouth covered with one hand while still pressing into your heavily decorated throat with the other. he immediately comes after you, a loud moan of his own forcing its way through his lips so he has to kiss you to shut you both up.
dbf!dean winchester who, in all his experience, is the king of after care- not that you'd know. you're too far off into dream land.
dbf!dean winchester who sighs, shaking his head in partial disbelief as he tosses the rag somewhere on the floor after cleaning you off, and lays on your bed, snuggling you right into his chest and kissing your forehead. "get some sleep kid. you'll need it."
dividers by @condybunny gif by @deanwinchestersgirl87
did you guys miss meeee? ok this isn't cod but i've gotten into supernatural lately and i've been seeing this trend on tiktok and it gave me inspo to write again.
You, who cant STAND the horrible heatwave engulfing the UK right now, with the heat only being a million times worse on base.
Youve finally made the decision to switch to summer uniform, opting for a tank top when able to do so, and thinner cargos. And occasionally having your hair tied higher up, rather than the standard low bun, on more casual days on base.
Weirdly enough though, your Lieutenant seems to be more evasive these days. He already was, to a degree, but he was now moreso than ever. You chalked it up to the extra layers and mask he wore, making the heat all the more unbearable for him.
Ghost who refuses to spar with you nowadays. You thought you had finally proved yourself to him, saving his ass on the last op, but apparently not!
You, who, rightfully, gets annoyed, confiding in the other sergeants to which they placate you as best they can, but it only riles you up even more!
Ghost who is entirely unused to seeing so much of you, having seen you as nothing but a capable soldier before this... only to learn that you were doing things to him. Things you had no right doing.
Ghost who cant stand the sight of the exposed nape of your neck, the very sight of it setting off something inside him, drgging his thoughts to nothing but being able to bite and ravish your soft skin. Night after night he thinks about you, you and your stupid neck that make him think impossibly dirty thoughts.
Gaz and Soap who know how much Ghost is going through it right now, and at the same time, pissing you off. They both share a wall with the Lieutenant after all, and know all about the effects you've had on him.
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dad bf! benjamin who comforts you after your boyfriend breaks up with you â. đ Ë
contains: smut, very light angst, age gap, kissing, small amount aftercare, domestic!ben, modern au, oral, comfort, gentle!ben
authorâs note: this might be ooc but most fics I see are of ben being mean ash and I want a nice ben for once. im also working on requests and this was a draft from a few days ago
wc: 1.4k
your dad's best friend since high school, Benjamin, has been there for you ever since. he helps you when you needed a tutor for school, helps you make dinner, and holds you when you need to cry.
which is what he was doing as of right now.
you quietly sobbed into his chest after telling him what had happened with you and your boyfriend, sitting in his lap facing him. his hand rubbed your back, scratching it gently. "he didn't deserve you, sweetheart."
he murmured sweet nothings in your ear before giving your nape a light kiss. his free hand rubbed your thigh.
"it's okay to cry, my sweet girl. I'm always here for you."
"t-thank you, ben.." you sniffled, rubbing your eye. "you're always so nice to me.."
"I wouldn't be mean to my baby girl, would I?"
you smiled, eyes still glossy as you wrapped your arms around him, getting deeper into his lap as his hands found your sides, squeezing them gently. "you're gonna have to get to bed soon, sweetheart. it's late."
"IâŚI know. I wanna stay with you." you admitted, shying away from him.
"look at me."
his command made your head perk up, looking him in the eye, his lips curled into a smile, pressing a soft kiss to your head. "no boy deserves you. a beautiful girl like you needs a man to take care of her."
your hands went to his chest, pushing yourself up. "what do you mean?"
"these boys your age are no good. you need a real man, love."
"like you, ben?" your words grew bolder as he smiled once again, hand moving up to cup your cheek in his palm.
"like me, if you'll have me." he moved your head closer to his to where your forehead pressed against his, the intimacy causing your cheeks to flush.
"ben.."
"your father wouldn't be happy to see his daughter's mouth so close to mine, would he?"
"no..no he wouldn't." you said before his lips caught yours in a passionate kiss, his lips moving gently against yours. his hand moved to your waist, another hand on the back of your head to keep your lips pressed to his.
his tongue moved against your bottom lip, licking at it before his teeth bit on it gently, signaling for you to part your lips. you obliged and parted your soft lips, his tongue moving inside. your hands moved up and down his chest, moving lower to the hem of his shirt.
"tell me what you need, sweetheart."
"y-you, ben."
"dirty girl." he mumbled against your lips, the sound of his voice vibrating against your lip as he kissed you again, hand tangling in your hair. the hand on your waist moving under your shirt and his palm meeting the skin on your waist.
his palm rubbed against your side, the soft skin heating up under his hand. he pulled away and gave you one last kiss before his lips met your neck, nipping and kissing at the skin of your nape.
"precious thing, nobody deserves such a sweet girl like you." he said, his eyes meeting yours.
"do I deserve you, ben?"
"you deserve the world." his lips moved back to yours, kissing them once more. in between kisses, he mumbled a few words. "that boyfriend of yours was no good, I don't know what you saw in that guy."
"I was looking for you in him.." you admitted, looking away from him. his hand cupped your chin and forced you to look back at him.
"well now you have the real thing, don't you sweetheart? lay back on the bed for me. let me show you how a real man treats his woman."
you nodded, complying as you laid back on the guest bed, letting him take your shirt and pull it up and over your head, revealing your bra underneath, a regular black sports bra.
he got on his knees, in between your legs as he pulled his own shirt off, tossing it to the side.
his hands moved to your shorts, rubbing your thigh before pulling them down gently, revealing your black panties. "matching set, huh?"
"y-yeah.." you mumbled, feeling an ounce of embarrassment due to the basic sports bra you were wearing. if you knew he was gonna do this, you would've wore that victoria's secret set you bought the other day.
"cute." he replied, his mouth moving down to kiss your waist and your stomach, worshiping your body. "so precious. all mine."
his finger tugged at your panties before his other hand pulled your bra up and over your head, your tits revealed to him. his hand groped at your breast as he pulled your panties down to your ankles.
"good thing you didn't shave. like it better this way."
your face became flushed, embarrassed at his comment. "..ben!"
he chuckled, kissing your clit. "it's gorgeous. don't think I've ever seen such a pretty pussy." his tongue swiped against your clit, licking at it before sucking on it, your face twisted in pleasure.
"bâben! fuckâ" you whimpered, your hand moving to grip the back of his head.
his tongue lapped your pussy before sticking his tongue in your entrance, thrusting it in and out. he kept repeating this pattern of him lapping your pussy then thrusting in it before he drew his attention back to your clit.
"tastes amazing, doll. could lick this pussy all day."
"I don't think I'd make it out alive.." you panted out.
"I'll make sure you do, you'll take everything I have to give you."
his tongue licked once more at your clit before you came, his tongue lapping up your arousal.
"there you go, atta girl."
"ben.." you whined, thighs pressing back together.
"does my doll need something more? use your words."
"y-your dick. please, ben?"
he patted your thigh before his hands went to unbuckle his belt, his belt being thrown aside along with his pants. the only thing he was wearing by now was his boxers which had an obvious bulge in them.
"is this what you want?"
"yes ben.." his hands pulled his boxers down, his cock springing out. he was thick and big, tip leaking pre cum.
he gave it a few strokes before saying a few words. "you on the pill?"
"yeah.."
"then I'm cumming inside you. need to fill this pussy up." he said before his tip prodded at your entrance, your legs being held up by him.
"fuck.." you whined as he pushed inside, his cock stretching you out. "please, ben." you mumbled as he bottomed out.
"I'll give you what you want, doll. just wait." he gave you a couple seconds to adjust before he slowly pulled out just to push back in, being gentle with you.
"I'm the only one you'll be doing this with from now on. you're mine, got that?" you nodded, his hands moving your legs to your chest, putting you in a mating press.
"just like that doll, just how I want you." he said, his thrusts slow and soft.
"you won't let anyone get intimate with you ever again, cause this sweet girl is mine now." he kissed your nape before his thrusts grew quicker and harder.
"fuckâben!" you moaned out, his lips moving to kiss you softly, your moans being swallowed by his mouth.
he pulled away, kissing your nose. "don't just see this as sexual, doll. this is us getting as close as we can to each other. I love you, sweetheart."
"I-I love you too, ben." you confessed, his lips catching yours in another kiss. his hand went to intertwine with yours, holding your soft hand in his rougher one. he pulled back from the kiss to thrust harder into you.
a bulge started to form on your stomach, very light but visible. his hand pressed down on it softly, making you cry out. "feel how deep I am? hm?"
"yes, ben..!" you moaned, hands moving to grip his back, leaving scratches on it.
"keep doing that, sweetheart. don't stop." he groaned at the feeling of your nails scratching at his back, the mix of pain and pleasure filling his mind.
your cunt squeezed around him, signaling you were getting close again. "you're gonna cum again, doll?"
you nodded, pecking his lips.
"cum for me, sweetheart." he urged as you came, your pussy squeezing tightly around him as he came inside you. thick ropes of cum filled your womb, the feeling making you moan.
he stayed inside for a couple minutes before pulling out and laying down next to you, pulling you into his chest.
"you did amazing, took everything I gave you." he praised you, kissing your nose.
you hugged him, cuddling him as he hugged you back, kissing your cheek. "I love you, sweet girl." He said, smiling at you.
"I love you too, ben."
Šwhatsernamekei 2026 all works belong to @whatsernamekei. Do not translate, feed into ai, or plagiarize.Â
âËęŠď˝Ą girl dad!dean who swears he's gonna be the cool, chill dad. let her stay up late, eat whatever she wants, let her go to parties, and experience the teen life he never got to. but when he finally gets to hold her? that idea is out the window. because this is his baby girl. he's the one who's going to protect her all her life.
âËęŠď˝Ą girl dad!dean who insisted on being the one to do late night feedings. even when he was a walking zombie on his feet. he knows that while he was away on a hunt, his partner was the one taking care of her. so he'd gladly be the one to take over and let them sleep.
âËęŠď˝Ą girl dad!dean who also just loves spending time with his daughter at night. holding her skin to skin, looking down at her like she'd placed each star in the sky. in his mind she had. the little bundle of joy he looked down at was his saving grace.
âËęŠď˝Ą girl dad!dean who hums classic rock whenever she's fussy. rocking her in his arms and all.
âËęŠď˝Ą girl dad!dean who completely loses his gruff exterior. he can face monsters and what goes bump in the night- but if his little girl even looks like she's about to pout or shed a tear? he's jumping over the couch to soothe her. even asking if she wants desert early even though he shouldn't.
âËęŠď˝Ą girl dad!dean who gets weighed down by guilt whenever he leaves for a hunt. it eats at him. he feels like he's missing so much of her first year, and life, when he leaves. but it's a double edged sword. because he's leaving to gank as many monsters as he possibly can. it's his job to make the world something safe for her to grow up in. he just wishes he didn't have to be away from her to do it.
âËęŠď˝Ą girl dad!dean who goes into his daughter's room every night, no matter what time it is. he dodges stuffed animals and haphazardly tossed toys to squat next to her bed. he whispers goodnight and places a kiss against her forehead, taking a moment to look down at the little bundle of light he made.
âËęŠď˝Ą girl dad!dean who reads to his daughter every night. he sits up in bed with her, having her tucked beneath his arm, and reading stories from his childhood. or princess books he found at yard sales and book stores while away. he uses different accents to demonstrate the characters. dean doesn't admit it but he's more into it than his daughter is.
âËęŠď˝Ą girl dad!dean who sometimes falls asleep in his daughter's bed because they were up late reading.
âËęŠď˝Ą girl dad!dean who started a collection of kids books. each hunt, he goes to the library to scour the 50 cent books. he'll walk out spending twenty bucks if he's unsupervised. he goes to book shops and yard sales. there are books from when he was little, the magic tree house, Percy Jackson (for when she gets older), and Pete the cat in his collection. they all live on a bookshelf inside her room.
âËęŠď˝Ą girl dad!dean who turns into a five-star nurse whenever she gets hurt. if she'd got a cut, scrape, or even a bruise, he's jumping into action.
âËęŠď˝Ą girl dad!dean who does sometimes ask her if she needs a "whambulance" when she cries. but he says it when she's crying over something very silly. he'll wrap her up in his arms after, though.
âËęŠď˝Ą girl dad!dean who lets her dress him up. he's sitting still for his makeup and nails to be done. he'll swear it's because it works with the ladies, but really, he just loves spending time with his daughter. and he starts to enjoy having different colored nails every few weeks.
âËęŠď˝Ą girl dad!dean who does monster checks at night. he grew up being told to be a 'man' and look in the closet by himself. it never sat right with him to do it to his daughter. so, he's getting on hands and knees yelling at the monsters beneath her bed that he doesn't "play around." his daughter usually stands in the doorway giggling at him. blissfully unaware that there actually could have been something beneath her bed.
âËęŠď˝Ą girl dad!dean who gets sage from rowena and sages his daughter's room.
âËęŠď˝Ą girl dad!dean who plays games like a pro. he's undefeated at hide and seek. although, his daughter hid in the dryer machine and he seriously thought she was lost for a minute. he almost pulled his hair out before finding her. but when he did, he crashed to the floor in a laughing fit. that is the first place he checks now, though.
âËęŠď˝Ą girl dad!dean who is a goof with her. they're tossing french fries at each other across a diner booth, trying to see how many they can get in the other's mouth. they have races to the car. they place bets on what 'grass clippings' uncle sammy's gonna get for lunch. usually she wins.
âËęŠď˝Ą girl dad!dean who tries to make shaped pancakes. his mickey mouse needs some serious work. though, his daughter never complains. she likes guessing what it's supposed to be and giggling when dean says, "What!? No, that's totally a heart. You can see.... okay, maybe not. Just eat your breakfast, kid."
âËęŠď˝Ą girl dad!dean who cannot say no to her.
âËęŠď˝Ą girl dad!dean who always tells her that he's proud of her. he never got that growing up- and he wanted to make sure that she does. because he's so proud of her in every little thing she does.
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content MDNI 18+, gn!reader, reader is slightly shy, dry humping, gentle nipple play (dean receiving mhm) #happy trail dean! he is needy and very in love, use of baby, angel, and pretty !
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wc 816
Dean kisses your bare sternum with the same delicacy that he uses to kiss your cheeks and jaw and the smooth of your calf. His lips are feathering plum pink; he's kiss-bitten and happy to be. The heat of a gentle bite stings his neck.
He likes when you bite, though you'd been shy about it. The feeling always plunges him into hazy dizziness. Your knee shifts and bumps his stomach lightly, he spreads molten fingers over the plush of your thigh and pushes down to flatten the bend.
"Come on," he whispers. "Tell me what you want, pretty."
Too many options. You weigh them. He'll give anything, you could ask for his mouth or thick fingers or dick. Could push off your back and clamber onto his lap. He's a mess but hiding it well, save for telling pinched brows.
"Wanna see you better."
He sits high on his knees and blinks at you, trying to focus. It's hard, when you're a glowing vision in his backseat and nude besides underwear. An angel. Splayed and running a tender hand along his chest, your thumb coaxes his nipple.
"Fuck," he hisses, dark lashes aflutter.
You smile. Rarely are you the one doing the teasing.
"Sensitive," you coo and pinch quick. "Oh, you like that."
Ribbons of silver moonlight bleed through the windows, strapping across his abdomen. They set the honey-blond hairs above his belt flaming white, flowing down his navel in a band, beckoning to be licked and touched.
You twist his nipple between a delicate thumb and index. He barely swallows a whimper.
"Baby." He scrambles to hitch your thigh up his waist, holding it there while he helplessly grinds the swell of his jeans against you. "Fuck, you're so- so good. A fuckin' angel."
Your hand falls and settles on his bicep. He ruts slow and stuttered, lowering himself to press the point of his nose beside your ear. Powdery fragrance, he breathes in and in again, chest flowering with sticky, sweet love.
"Dean, I... oh."
He raises his head, fingers kneading at the dough of your leg. His rings indent cold and your half-lidded eyes tug his heart achingly. You've such a breathy, faraway voice and he hasn't even fucked you stupid yet.
"Good?" he checks. "Feels good? You like this?"
You nod feverish, catching his chin with a sloppy, pillowed kiss. He's got enough sense to grin lopsided and swallow your mouth whole, tongue needling for yours. This earns him a dreamy, lilting sigh that pits straight to his gut and pools there in welling heat.
"Y'sound like..." he starts, mumbling and blissed, following a connecting string of saliva back towards your lips. Can't ever get his fill, mind a mantra of you, warm, soft, sugary. "Heaven. What does heaven sound like?"
A shaky breath passes from your nose. "Heavenly, I'd guess."
He licks a stripe on your throat. Your arms cross over his shoulder blades, palm scooping through spiked hair, hips lifting to meet his movement. A small, hiccupping sound flies from him traitorously, bordering on plea.
"Jesus- shit," he says. His clothed thrusts become sloppy.
"Here," you offer, reaching for his belt. "Please."
There's nothing else to think about, to feel, except for your fingertips grazing past that musky trail on his low stomach. He slows, missing the friction as it wanes, but adoring your cautious expression. Excitedly nervous. Your pinkie curls around a belt loop. His palm skates the length of your thigh.
"Y'don't have to," he murmurs. "It's okay, baby."
Dean decides you must be magic, when your eyes find his. Glittering jewels amidst the dim light in the car. He can see your smile, a perfect, curling thing, and holds back from kissing you again and again until your brain is mush.
"Want to," you reply. His belt comes undone with a clink.
The button of his jeans pops out lazy under your tentative touch, but he doesn't rush. Rolls his lip beneath a shiny canine as you slide the zipper down and stifles a whiny beg. You're soft and pretty and he wants to bury himself in your skin forever.
You work his jeans to his knees and then pause to watch him quietly, ignoring his straining boxers, your chest pulling with prolonged rises. He wonders where that brief teasing went but loves you just as much, like this. Affected.
"Hey," he whispers. Leans quickly to give a smacking kiss to your hip bone. "You're beautiful."
"Thank you. You're, um. You're beautiful, too."
His body pangs. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. Can you fuck me, now? Please."
Yes, yes, yes.
Clumsy in this small space, he manages to kick off his pants without hitting the top of his head and yanks his wallet from the back pocket to grab a condom. Brings it to his teeth and tears it open. His supply is diminishing.
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lowdown â after a sleepless night, you wake up to your face on national television. however, vought knowing your name turns out to just be the first bad thing exposed.
ride or die â soldier boy x reader ( f )
miles â 2848 ride style â tense
danger on the trail â emotional distress, morning-after tension, references to previous sexual content, public smear campaign, doxxing/identity exposure, false accusations of terrorism, soldier boy shutting down, revelations that donât follow canon, cliffhanger!!
liv's log â in honor of today's angst, the first mlt drabble will be coming out in a couple of minutes đ¤
đ .á masterlist â join the taglist â listen to the playlist â support my work á˘đŠ
morning finds you before sleep does.
not kindly. not even gently. it drags itself through the curtains in thin strips and lies across the floor, exposing the shape of your room, the twisted blanket near your knees, the hoodie tossed over the chair, the beer bottle you carried back and forgot to finish before collapsing into bed like a person trying to outrun her own skin. oh, if only that were possible.
you havenât slept. youâve drifted. maybe lost minutes here and there. long enough for the body to go heavy, but not long enough for your brain to stop replaying the living room in pieces: the tv flickering over soldier boyâs face, his hand around your ankle, your knees braced on either side of his thighs, his mouth swollen from yours, his fingers inside you, his voice rough near your ear.Â
âgot me under some kind of spell, donât you?â
your stomach twists at the memory of his face changing after he said it. your body going cold while everything else stayed hot. the way you scrambled off his lap so fast your knee nearly made you slip. the way he caught your elbow and let go the second you told him not to touch you.Â
that had made it worse. a part of you wished he hadnât. that heâd kiss the shock out of both of you. that heâd handled you rough but cleanly. like he used to before.Â
you lie on your back and stare at the ceiling until your eyes start to burn. stupid, stupid, stupidâ
someone passes your door in the hall. your body reacts before you decide toâshoulders tense, breath held. for one pathetic second, you think itâs him. youâre still getting used to the new safehouse. to the way the pipes complain differently in the night. to the way the floor creaks differently depending on whoâs crossing to the living room, but you havenât had the chance to give it a pattern.Â
the floor whines again, lighter this time, and then knuckles tap softly against your door. not him.Â
âhey,â annie says from the other side, voice soft and quiet. âyou awake?â
you close eyes. âyeah.âÂ
she pauses, head probably leaning against the chipped wood. considering if she should say the next thing or let you in the safety of those four walls. then, heavier, âyou should come see this.âÂ
nothing good has ever followed that sentence.Â
you sit up anyway. the shirt you slept in is twisted around your waist. your shorts sit crooked on your hips, and you fix them with more force than necessary before dragging a hoodie over your head. you donât check your reflection. whateverâs happening out there doesnât need a prettier version of you.
annie is waiting in the hallway when you open the door. she looks like she slept about as well as you did, hair tied back messily, face too pale beneath the early light.Â
âwhat is it?â you ask.
she hesitates. thatâs answer enough.
the television is on in the living room. everyoneâs already there. mm stands near the arm of the couch with his arms crossed and his face set into something hard. hughie sits forward on the edge of a chair, one hand pressed to his mouth. kimikoâs beside frenchie at the table, where his laptop is open and connected to two drives by a mess of cords. heâs the only one not staring at the screen. butcher leans in the kitchen doorway, mug in hand, expression sharp in a way that means heâs enjoying himself and is furious at the same time.
soldier boy stands by the counter, half-turned toward the television. he doesnât look at you when you enter. you donât look at him either. your body notices him anyway.
firecrackerâs face fills the screen, bright and smug under studio lights, hair arranged into the kind of patriotic waves that look flammable. a banner crawls beneath her in violent red letters: vought event attacked by starlight radicals. beneath that, smaller: suspected terrorist associate identified.
then your face appears beside hers.Â
you stop walking.
itâs not a good photo. thatâs your first thought, which is ridiculous enough that you almost laugh before the rest of it arrives. itâs a still from the civic center, grainy and overlit, your catering shirt bright beneath the fluorescent hallway glow. your head is turned halfway, mouth slightly open, eyes caught between focus and movement.
then the graphic changes. your full name. your age. the town where you grew up.
something cold slides beneath your ribs.
firecracker smiles. ânow, folks, this is what they donât want you to see. a seemingly ordinary young woman radicalized by starlightâs extremist network, infiltrating a patriotic vought event under false credentials and fleeing the scene with none other than soldier boy.â
your mouth parts as the graphic shifts again, a new still flashing onto the screenâgrainy but unmistakable. soldier boyâs hand is wrapped tight around your wrist, pulling you down the hallway, your body half-turned toward him as he drags you toward the exit. your skin instantly heats up at the memory now eternalized thanks to firecrackerâs hillbilly show.Â
âholy shit,â hughie says softly.
firecracker leans toward the camera. âand i donât know about you, but when a girl that pretty from a nice place like that ends up running around with americaâs number one traitor and starlightâs little terrorist club, i start asking questions.â
a sound leaves you. not fully a laugh. not sane enough for that. startled, ugly, almost delighted despite the fact that your life has just been turned into a headline. you point at the screen. âdid she just call me pretty?â
mm turns to you immediately. âdonât look so fuckinâ proud.â
the laugh dies in your throat.
he nods toward the tv. âthatâs your name. your face. where youâre from. everybody who knew you before this is about to have reporters, vought freaks, or worse knocking on their doors.â
the room settles heavily around the truth.
firecracker keeps talking behind him, voice bright and poisonous. âcitizens are urged not to approach. if you see this woman, contact vought security or local authorities immediately. do not engage. these people are dangerous, unstable, and working directly against the safety of the american people.â
you stare at the screen until your own face blurs. dangerous. unstable. you want to laugh again but you fear you might be sick first.
butcher takes a drink from his mug. âwell. congratulations, love. you made telly.â
âshut up,â annie snaps.
âwhat? she did.â
you look away from the screen because looking at yourself like that feels too much like standing outside your own body. âi need coffee.â
the coffee machine is behind soldier boy. naturally, the universe has developed comic timing and decided to use it against you. you donât let that stop you.
you walk into the kitchen and stop beside him. âmove.â
he glances down at the very narrow space between his body and the counter. âthereâs room.â
âyouâre blocking the coffee.â
âreach.â
you stare at his profile. âiâm not reaching around you.â
his mouth shifts by almost nothing. ââs that a new rule?â
heat snaps up your neck so fast you nearly forget thereâre other people alive in the room. âyou need to actually shut the fuck up,â you mutter, wishing your voice had actually been low enough to not carry through the room.
his eyes flick toward you then. not your face first. your mouth. quick enough to show heâs thinking about it too. âquiet morning voice. cute.â
you grab the empty mug nearest to him. âkeep talking and iâll pour it down your lap.â
âwhere would you sit then?â
the words tumble from his lips so smugly that your brain actually malfunctions. your eyes widen, cheeks flush, mouth left parted and empty where a pretty insult should stand. instead, youâre speechless.Â
mm makes a sound from the living room. âboth of you, not today.â
soldier boy actually shifts half a step. like that does anything.
you pour coffee with a hand that wouldnât be steady enough to fire a gun. the mug fills too close to the brim. you lift it carefully and burn your fingers anyway, which feels appropriate.
from the table, frenchie mutters, âmon dieu...â
eyes flick toward him. heâs not gawking at the sbow you and soldier boy just put on. heâs not shocked from listening to the nonsense in firecrackerâs segment. frenchieâs eyes are glued to the screen of his laptop, face serious. the room changes.
butcherâs eyes sharpen. âwhat is it?â
frenchie turns the laptop so the rest of the room can see. âthe civic center servers were connected to vought medical archives. not public files. internal research. trial reports.â
âfor what?â annie asks.
frenchie hesitates, then says, âv24.â
temp v.
your coffee turns sour before you even have the chance to taste it. hughie looks down. annie sees. everyone sees.
frenchie scrolls with stiff fingers. âthe damage is cumulative. repeated exposure causes neurological lesions, organ stress, tissue breakdown. vought recorded fatal collapse between three and five doses. sometimes sooner.â
silence presses into every corner of the safehouse. fatal collapse between three and five doses.
firecrackerâs show continues on the tv, but someone mustâve muted it because her mouth keeps moving without sound. your face remains on the corner graphic, frozen mid-turn.
annieâs voice is small and furious. âhughie.â
he rubs both hands over his face. âiâm okay.â
âhow many?â
âannieââ
âhow many times did you fucking take it?â
he doesnât answer quickly enough.
butcher sighs. ânot the time for loversâ arithmetic.â
mmâs stare cuts to him and he doesnât raise his voice. he just looks at butcher like heâs trying to give him one last chance to do the right thing without being forced. âthen weâll do yours. how many?â
butcher looks bored. that means heâs hiding something. âenough.â
mmâs jaw tightens, a muscle ticking near his temple, and when he speaks again itâs slower, each word pressed out with effort, âsay the number.â
âtwo,â hughie says quietly.
annie closes her eyes.
butcher lifts a shoulder. âsame neighborhood.â
frenchieâs voice is strained. âthis is not a cold, monsieur. this is brain damage. organ damage. death.â
âyeah, gathered that from fatal collapse, french,â butcher raises a brow.
kimiko signs sharply over frenchieâs shoulder. frenchie translates, eyes still on butcher. âshe says you are an idiot.â
butcher points his mug toward her. âtell her ive been told.â
you hear them, but the room has gone strange around the edges. three to five doses. hughie has two. butcher has two, maybe more. you have one. one.
you look at the muted television. your own face stares back at you from under firecrackerâs red headline. vought has your name, your town, your face, your connection to soldier boy. the deep knows you. homelander might know by now. noir is still alive because soldier boy chose the hallway where you were cornered instead of the mission he came here to finish.
your fingers tighten around the mug, as math works faster than fear and your mouth lets the thought escape without permission. âthen iâm the safest one to take another dose.â
everyone turns. the words hang in the kitchen, awful and neat.
soldier boyâs head moves slowly toward you. âthatâs off the table.â
your jaw tightens. âthat wasnât a question.â
âdidnât sound like a smart idea either.â
âif noir shows up againââ
âyouâre not taking that shit again.â
âiâm not asking permission.â
his expression hardens so fast you know the hit is coming before he speaks.
âyeah,â he scoffs, dry and mean. ânoticed youâre real good at that.â
it lands exactly where he aims and you go quiet. not because he wins. because he's right, and you hate that heâs earned the cruelty.
butcher watches with interest he doesn't bother hiding. âfor what's worth, sheâs not wrong.â
soldier boy turns on him. âitâs worth shit.â
âmath checks out.â
âbutcher,â mm warns.
âwhat? if somebody has to take another dose, better her than hughieâs brain leaking out his ears.â
hughie flinches. âjesus christ.â
ânobody is taking anything,â annie says. ânot her. not you. not hughie. nobody.â
âsweet,â butcher says. âthen weâll all hold hands and ask homelander to please stop being such a cunt.â
mm steps forward. âweâre done with secret doses. frenchie keeps digging. nobody touches another vial unless the whole room knows exactly what choice is being made.â
choice. the word passes through the kitchen and finds every sore place.Â
frenchieâs chair creaks. âthere is more,â he says.
butcher closes his eyes. ânaturally.â
frenchie looks back at the laptop. âthe v24 files connect to older vought archives. payback. nicaragua. military research. genetic storage.â
frenchie scrolls once, then stops. kimiko leans closer to the screen. her face changes.
mm's the first to speak. âfrenchie?â
frenchie doesnât answer.
butcher moves behind him and reads over his shoulder. for once, the joke doesnât come.
âwhat?â annie asks.
frenchie swallows. âthis is not about temp v.â
soldier boyâs voice is flat. âspit it out.â
frenchie looks at him, then at the screen again, like the laptop has become something indecent. âhomelanderâs development file. early laboratory documentation. not the public asset record.â
butcher finishes it for him. âhomelanderâs your boy.â
the world loses sound. you understand the words in pieces. homelander. soldier boy. genetic source. vought. son.
soldier boy doesn't move.
for one long second, he stands beside the coffee machine with his hands empty and his face locked so tightly that you almost miss the impact. thereâs no softness there. no wonder. no sudden fatherly light. only something deeper than anger trying to find somewhere to go and failing because thereâs nowhere big enough.
âbullshit,â he says.
frenchie turns the laptop slightly. âitâs in the file.â
âno.â
butcherâs voice is unusually low. âthey used your material.â
the phrase makes your skin crawl.
soldier boyâs eyes flick to him. âwhen?â
frenchie scrolls. âsamples were collected before your disappearance. stored under military research. transferred into the homelander program afterââ
âafter they got rid of me,â soldier boy concludes and nobody corrects him.
on the tv, firecrackerâs muted face smiles beside yours. your name sits beneath hers like another file.
soldier boy steps toward the laptop.
everyone shifts without meaning to. giving him room. giving the bomb room. he looks at the screen for just long enough. then he asks, âwho knew?â
you see the name land ugly. noir who walked away yesterday. noir who mightâve known what vought built from him. noir who mightâve carried this secret while soldier boy rotted in russia.
mm moves slightly. âtake a breath.â
soldier boy looks at him. âmove.â
âsoldier boyââ you take one step before you decide to. you donât know where youâre going. toward soldier boy, maybe. toward the thing in him that just got opened. toward the old, stupid instinct that thinks pain is a problem you can put your hands on and solve.
mmâs eyes cut to you. ânot now.â you stop. he looks at you for another second. not unkindly. not soft either. âgive him space.â
your throat tightens. you want to argue. you want to say you werenât going to. you want to say something that makes you less obvious. but mm is right, and that makes your mouth close. this isn't about you.
soldier boy walks out of the kitchen without looking at anyone. the house seems to hold its breath after him. you move again, barely. not enough to follow. only enough to betray that you want to.
mm says your name once.
you stop at the edge of the kitchen and nod because anything else might come out wrong.
the room doesnât recover. annie turns away from hughie like she needs space from one disaster before she can face another. hughie stares at the muted television, where your face is still pinned beneath the word terrorist. butcher sits down slowly, mug untouched now. frenchie keeps looking at the file as if the letters might rearrange into some other truth that doesn't completely ruin this team.
finally, the room settles enough to let you retreat. you slip into your room quietly. down the hall, a door doesn't quite close. you shouldnât listen. still, you listen enough. a filtered female voice says, clipped and professional, âhold for connection.â there's static. then a click.
silence holds for a moment before a voice everyone in america knows, stripped of crowd noise and cameras and stage lights until it sounds smaller than it should.
âis this really you?â homelander. the question hangs there, almost young.
soldier boy doesnât answer right away.
you stand frozen in the hallway, voughtâs version of your face glowing silently from the tv behind you, frenchieâs files still open in the kitchen, and the whole world balanced on the space before soldier boy speaks.
then his voice comes through the half-closed door. low. rough. changed. âthe situationâs changed.â
