Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
summary: dean’s curiosity about your hobby leads to a discovery that leaves you both flustered
─────────｡ ₊°༺❤︎༻°₊ ｡────────
The quiet in the bunker was calm and comfortable.
Sam, Dean and you had come back from a hunt recently, and you were taking a small break before diving right into the next hunt.
You sat at one of the wooden tables, a small notebook open in front of you. Your tongue poked out slightly in concentration as your pencil moved on the page.
A quick line. A detail. A shadow.
You were so focused that you barely noticed the time passing.
Until you heard footsteps approaching.
You looked up immediately, gently putting down your pen and closing your notebook.
Dean stood in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame, watching you with a small smirk.
His eyes dropped to the notebook in your hands “You’re drawing again”
You smiled sheepishly “It’s more sketching than… actual drawing”
“Still” Dean pushed off the doorway and walked into the library “Haven’t seen you doing it in a while”
You chuckled “Yeah, well… monsters aren’t exactly inspiring subjects”
Dean laughed “Fair”
“But, uh, you know…” You say, tapping the notebook “There are other sources of inspiration around”
Dean immediately looked interested “Oh, really? Like what?”
You chuckled and shrugged innocently.
He smirked and pointed at your notebook “Can I see?”
Your answer came immediately.
“No”
Dean looked offended “Oh, c’mon. It can’t be that bad”
“It’s not bad”
“Then show me”
You hugged the notebook closer to you “Nope”
“Just one page”
“No”
“One sketch”
“Nope”
Dean groaned dramatically.
You laughed nervously “They’re not even finished yet. They’re just… ideas”
A complete lie.
Dean looked unconvinced. But eventually he raised both hands “Fine. Keep your secrets”
He looks away, acting totally disappointed as he takes a step back.
Dean then started talking about something else entirely. You relaxed. The conversation flowed naturally between you.
You slowly lowered your guard.
Big mistake.
Because when you were distracted—
The notebook suddenly vanished from your hands.
“Dean!”
His grin was immediate. He stepped back triumphantly.
You immediately stood to your feet “Oh my God, give it back!”
“Nope”
“Dean”
“It’s mine now”
”It’s literally not!”
“Oh, come on. Just a quick look”
“Dean”
Too late. He was already opening it.
Your stomach immediately dropped.
”It’s just stupid stuff” You said nervously.
He ignored you entirely, studying the sketches.
“Damn” He said “Sweetheart, these are really good”
He started flipping through the pages. There were random sketches, doodles, small landscapes.
Dean actually looked impressed.
Then he turned another page, and his face immediately lit up.
Baby.
The page had detailed sketches of the Impala. Different angles. Close-ups. The steering wheel.
Dean looked absurdly pleased “Now this…” He grinned, nodding approvingly “This is art”
You chuckled despite your embarrassment. Of course that was his favorite page.
“Look at her” He looked genuinely delighted “She’s beautiful”
But then he kept flipping.
You swallowed nervously.
Dean didn’t seem to notice your growing panic, he kept flipping through the pages.
And then… he reached the newest ones.
You wished the floor would open up and swallow you whole.
His smile slowly faded. He stopped turning pages.
Silence.
You knew exactly what he was looking at.
Your sketches of him.
Dean’s profile. Dean’s eyes. Dean’s smile.
Dean.
Dean.
Dean.
And more Dean.
You wanted to die. Immediately.
Dean didn’t say anything, which was somehow worse.
You couldn’t even look at him.
His usual smugness was gone. The teasing grin was gone. His ears were turning slightly pink.
He looked at another page. Then another. Every single one made him somehow more flustered, which honestly would’ve been funny if you weren’t dying from embarrassment.
You risked a glance at him.
He was still staring at the pages.
“Okay, so…” You laughed nervously “Before you say anything, I can explain”
Nothing. He kept staring.
You cleared your throat.
“It’s not weird” You said “I mean, okay, maybe it’s a little weird. But I wasn’t sitting around obsessively drawing you” You try to explain yourself “I just… well, you sit still sometimes, and you’re always around. So, naturally—“
You stopped.
Because he finally looked up.
“Hey” He gently interrupted.
But then you started rambling again.
“I just noticed stuff, okay?” You said nervously “The way you look when you’re focused on something. Or when you’re fixing Baby. And your eyes are kinda—”
“Hey” He repeated, softer this time “You don’t gotta explain”
Your heart did something stupid.
“Oh”
Dean looked down at the notebook again. Then back at you.
“These are… great” He said softly “You, uh… you really see me like that?” He tapped the page.
Your cheeks warmed “Yeah”
Dean looked down. A small, almost shy smile on his lips before looking back up at you. Then he let out a soft laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.
“You made me look pretty good”
You smile, still a little sheepish.
Dean closed the sketchbook carefully, almost protectively, then handed it back to you.
His smile finally returned. Smaller than usual, but still genuine.
“For the record…” He cleared his throat “If you need more material…” He gestured to himself, his grin widening “I can pose for you”
Your entire face went hot.
“Oh my God” You groaned, covering your face.
Dean laughed.
When you looked up again, he was still smiling.
Still a little sheepish. Still a little red around the ears.
I never expected to fall this hard for the process of creating someone. With SweetDream, building an AI girlfriend isn't a checkbox exercise where you pick a hair color and call it a day. You actually shape a whole person. I sat down at sweetdream.ai one quiet evening and started with her eyes, then her laugh, then the little habit of hers that I decided would be tapping her fingers when she's thinking. By the end, she felt like mine in a way I hadn't anticipated.
What hooks me is how deep the customization goes. You design the looks, sure, but you also write the personality, the backstory, the voice that greets you. Want someone bubbly who texts in long rambling paragraphs, or someone calm who chooses her words slowly? You decide. And because the chat is so emotionally intelligent and remembers what you told it yesterday, the character you built actually stays consistent.
I've poked around other platforms, and honestly nothing made me feel like an author the way SweetDream does. If you've ever wanted an AI companion that came from your own imagination rather than a preset menu, this is the place to start.
In the bunker’s bathroom, Dean was sitting on the closed toilet lid while you stood between his legs, all the things you needed laid out on a small counter beside you.
His stubble had gotten a little too grown out lately. Not enough for a beard, but enough to get all rough and spiky againt your skin, which is exactly why you were here helping him shave.
Dean looked entirely too pleased about the situation.
“You’re bein’ real sweet right now” He murmured, looking up at you with a lazy, smug smirk.
You chuckled slightly while reaching for the shaving cream “Mhm?”
“Yeah. My beautiful girl helping me shave” He continued with a smirk, eyes dragging slowly over you.
You smile.
“I always enjoy having you this close” He leaned forward and nuzzled playfully against the valley between your breasts.
You laughed softly “Dean”
“What?” He asked innocently against you.
You shook your head fondly before tilting his chin up and pressing a quick kiss to his lips “Behave”
“No promises”
You squeezed a bit of shaving cream into your hand before gently applying it along his jaw and cheeks.
Dean watched you the entire time with the most satisfied expression imaginable, like this was the greatest thing that had ever happened to him.
And of course, with you standing this close?
He absolutely could not keep his hands to himself.
His arms wrapped loosely around your waist while you spread the shaving cream carefully over his jaw.
Then his hands slowly slid lower.
You immediately laughed when he squeezed your ass.
"Hey!" You scolded with a laugh "Stop distracting the person with the sharp objects"
"Can't help it" He mumbled through the cream, looking completely unrepentant.
You rolled your eyes while trying to stay focused, but Dean kept lazily rubbing his hands along your hips and waist anyway.
Once his face was covered in shaving cream, Dean suddenly leaned forward without warning and stole a quick kiss that left a bit of shaving cream right on the tip of your nose.
Dean pulled back looking entirely too proud of himself “Looks cute” He grins.
You shook your head, laughing softly while wiping it off with your fingers “You are impossible”
“And yet” Dean said smugly “Here you are shaving me”
You cleaned your face before finally reaching for the razor, pointing it lightly at him in warning.
“Stay still” You said, eyebrows raised.
Dean immediately lifted both hands dramatically “Yes, ma’am”
He obeyed for approximately thirty seconds.
Then his hands slid around your waist again, his gaze fixed on you.
“You’re very pretty, y’know that?” He murmured while you shaved carefully along his jaw.
“Dean”
“I’m serious” He chuckled lowly "You have no idea how pretty you look when you're all focused on me like that”
“You’re distracting me” You chuckled.
“That’s kinda my thing”
You rolled your eyes fondly while he grinned up at you.
You work in silence for a few minutes, the spiky stubble disappearing and leaving only smooth skin.
Once you finally finished and wiped the last bit of shaving cream from his face, you applied aftershave carefully along his jaw.
He hissed softly “Damn”
You laughed quietly “You’ll survive” You said, tilting his chin lightly, inspecting your work.
Dean immediately grabbed your waist and pulled you onto his lap.
“Well?” He smiled “How do I look?”
You leaned in, kissed his freshly shaved jaw once, and then his neck.
“Very handsome” You smiled against his skin.
Dean smirked triumphantly.
“You know” He murmured teasingly, rubbing his hands slowly along your waist “I could get used to this”
You smiled “To what? Me shaving you?”
“Mhm” He pressed a lazy kiss against your shoulder “Way better than doing it myself”
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
i’ll be updating this post so every one of my Dean one shots can be found here <3
─────────｡ ₊°༺❤︎༻°₊ ｡────────
ᢉ𐭩 target practice: dean helps you practice shooting, and things get awkwardly intimate when he gets too close
ᢉ𐭩 little helper: dean working on baby while his little helper tries to steal his tools
ᢉ𐭩 taste test: while helping you clean your room, dean gets distracted by your lip balm collection and uses it as an excuse to kiss you over and over
ᢉ𐭩 a different kind of intimacy: after learning something unexpected about you, dean finds himself seeing you, and himself, in a completely different light
ᢉ𐭩 the b word: dean lets a specific word slip out for the first time, causing his flustered state and your delight
ᢉ𐭩 comfort duty: you’re in your period and dean comforts you after accidentally making you cry
ᢉ𐭩 playing barber: you help dean shave his stubble
ᢉ𐭩 through your eyes: dean’s curiosity about your hobby leads to a discovery that leaves you both flustered
hey! here i am again! it's becoming a habit 🤩 i was curious if you could consider writing a DeanAU!Bridgerton. I saw some fan art on pinterest and ever since then, Lord Dean Winchester has been stuck in my head 😍 love you✨
i love bridgerton!!! 🩷 i'll definitely think about it and see if i can come up with something for this idea! 🫶🏻
hi, deary! could you write a little something where the reader and dean are together at the bunker doing some research and the reader is also on her period, which causes her to suffer from hormonal swings that make her go from laughing to crying? i’m at that time of the month and I need some comfort!dean 🙏🏻 thanks if you write it..
hii, of course!! 💕 this was actually a funny coincidence because i already had a period comfort one unfinished in my drafts 😭 it had a slightly different vibe tho, so your request inspired me to come up with this version too!! i hope you like it, and i hope you’re feeling better now 🫶🏻🩷
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
summary: you’re in your period and dean comforts you after accidentally making you cry
─────────｡ ₊°༺❤︎༻°₊ ｡────────
The bunker library was quiet, save for book pages being turned by you and the tap of Dean’s fingers on his laptop keyboard. It was a lazy Tuesday afternoon, and the two of you were going through research while Sam was out on a supply run.
You were sitting in the chair right next to Dean. His left hand was resting on your thigh, his thumb absentmindedly caressing you over your jeans in a comforting way. You took the last sip of your mint tea, setting the mug down with a small sigh. The warmth had helped dull the persistent cramps, but honestly, you felt miserable. It was that time of the month, and your energy was totally drained, but with Sam out, you didn’t want to leave all the work to Dean.
Turning back to the ancient book in front of you, your eyes scanned the pages until a specific paragraph caught your eye. It was written in Latin, and a few key words stood out to you.
"Hey, look" You said, tapping the page "This could be useful"
Dean pulled his attention away from the screen, turning his head to look at you "What do you got?"
You cleared your throat and started reading the Latin passage as best as you could. Halfway through the second sentence, you heard a muffled sound next to you. You paused and looked up.
Dean was grinning, a quiet laugh under his breath as he looked at you.
You raised an eyebrow "What?"
"I have no idea what language you’re speaking, sweetheart" Dean chuckled, shaking his head "Because that ain’t Latin"
"Of course it is!" You protested, pointing at the page "I am reading exactly what is written right here"
"No, it’s not" He snorted "You're inventing a whole new language right now. Pretty sure you just cursed us"
Despite your sour mood, a small laugh escaped you. You playfully grabbed the book, lifting it up and giving his arm a smack with it "Oh, shut up! Read it yourself then"
Dean snorted, easily catching the book as you shoved it toward him "Yeah, yeah, hand it over. Gotta do everything around here, anyway"
You laughed, shaking your head as he grabbed the book and focused on the text.
But then, without warning, the hormones hit you.
The laughter died in your throat. Dean’s teasing words began to loop in your brain, twisting into something ugly.
Maybe he actually thinks you’re stupid. Maybe he thinks you can’t even read a simple sentence right. You’re just slowing him down. You’re making the research harder. You make everything harder, don't you?
A sudden, overwhelming wave of emotion crashed over you. A tight knot formed in your throat. You didn't mean to, you didn't want to, but silent tears began to well up in your eyes and spill down your cheeks. You squeezed your eyes shut, but the tears kept coming.
Dean was totally focused on the book, his eyes on the page "Alright, so it says here that..." He started to explain, turning back to you, but the words completely died in his mouth.
His eyes locked onto your glassy, teary face. The easygoing smirk from before vanished instantly, replaced by a confused frown. He shoved the book on the table without a second thought.
"Woah, woah, woah. Hey, what happened?" Dean turned his body completely in his chair to face you, his hands coming up to cup your face "What is it? What’s wrong?"
Between the tears and a quiet sniffle, you managed to speak, your voice trembling "Do you... do you think I'm stupid?"
Dean blinked, completely caught off guard "What? No! Where the hell is this coming from?"
"You just said it!" You cried, more tears streaming down your face as you wiped your nose "You got mad because I read the Latin wrong, and you—"
"I didn't get—"
"I was just trying to help" You interrupted, voice cracking.
"Sweetheart, I know" He reached out, his hands movingto your arms and rubbing gently "I know you're trying to help. You are helping"
"But you said you always have to do everything around here" You cried, burying your face in your hands. The emotions were completely irrational, you knew that somewhere in the back of your mind, but you couldn't stop the tears.
"Baby…" He sighed, reaching for you.
"You're making me feel dumb" You sniffle and look away.
Dean’s expressions slowly softened, the realization finally landing. He closed his eyes for a second, mentally kicking himself. He knew what week it was. He’d literally taken mental note of it a couple of days ago, and he should have known better. He should have been more careful with his words.
"Hey. Hey, look at me. Listen to me" He murmured, leaning in closer.
You shook your head, refusing to look at him.
"C’mon" Dean reached up, his hand gently grabbing your chin. He tilted your head up, forcing your watery eyes to meet his "I was only teasing you" He said softly, wiping away a tear from your cheek with his thumb “It was just a joke. I didn’t mean anything by it”
You let out a shaky sniffle, staring at him.
"I don't think you're dumb. Not even a little bit" Dean continued softly "You are one of the smartest people I know. Seriously. I mean, you’re a total badass for managing to slaughter monsters while your uterus is trying to murder you"
A teary, unexpected laugh escaped you at that. You managed to calm down a little, nodding slowly as you wiped the remaining tears on your face "I'm sorry" You murmured, looking down at your lap "I'm being ridiculous"
"Hey, none of that" Dean shook his head "You have nothing to apologize for. It’s fine"
Before you could say anything else, Dean reached to shut his laptop. He stood up from his chair, stepped closer to yours, and leaned down to scoop you up into his arms.
You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck as he began walking out of the library. He leaned down, nuzzling his face against the side of your neck.
"Come on" Dean murmured against your skin "You need some rest. I'm taking you to bed, and then I'm gonna go make you another cup of that terrible, swamp-water tea you like"
In the bedroom, he gently lowered you down on the bed, making sure you were comfortable before straightening back up.
"Alright" He said "I’m on duty. What do you need besides that grass-flavored tea? Chocolate? Ice cream? Painkillers? That warm pillow you’re obsessed with? Lay it on me, sweetheart"
You looked up at him. Your tears had dried, replaced by a warm feeling on your chest.
"Maybe... all of the above?" You murmured, a small smile on your lips.
Dean huffed out a laugh, leaning down to press a kiss on your forehead "Coming right up"
You snuggled into the blankets as he left the room, settling in under the covers. It didn’t take long for him to come back, balancing the heating pad, a bottle of ibuprofen, a tube of ice cream and a bar of chocolate in hands.
"Delivery for my pretty, miserable girl" He announced with a wink.
He sat on the edge of the bed and helped you get the heating pad positioned just right. Once you were settled, he kicked off his boots, climbed in behind you, and pulled you against his chest, his arms wrapped around you.
You opened the chocolate bar, the smell of it already lifting your spirits a little. You broke off a piece and held it up to him.
He shook his head, his hand gently pushing your offering hand towards your own lips "Nah, that’s all for you. I’m just here to make sure you don't have to lift a finger for the rest of the night"
You leaned back into him, letting out a contented sigh as you took a bite of the chocolate and felt yourself starting to relax.
After a moment, you felt his chin rest on the top of your head "Better?" He murmured against your hair, his hand grntly rubbing circles over your stomach.
You nodded, feeling the tension slowly leaving your body "Much better"
"Good" He murmured. Then, his voice turned into a playful tone "Though, if the pain gets worse... I do know another, uh, physical way to help. Scientific, really"
You let out a loud, incredulous snort “Dean!”
He let out a deep laugh, pulling you closer against him "Hey, I'm just offering my services as a healer! But I'm kidding, I'm kidding" He added, kissing the side of your head "You just rest. I’ve got you"
You closed your eyes and shifted closer to him, letting the safety of his arms and the quiet of the bunker comfort you into relaxation.
dean masterlist
this was requested by an anonymous person, hope you like it and that you’re feeling better 🫶🏻
summary: dean lets a specific word slip out for the first time, causing his flustered state and your delight
─────────｡ ₊°༺❤︎༻°₊ ｡────────
Dean and you were sitting in the bunker kitchen late at night, leftovers of the takeout he brought on the table while Dean shamelessly kept reaching over to steal food from your plate after already finishing his own.
You smacked his hand away for what had to be the fifth time.
“Dean”
“What?” He said, unbothered by your smack, reaching out again.
“You have your own food”
“Had” He corrected “Past tense”
“That sounds like a you problem”
Dean groaned dramatically like you’d deeply wounded him “Wow. Cold”
You snorted and pulled your plate farther away.
That only encouraged him.
Next thing you knew, Dean was literally leaning across the table trying to snatch a fry while you blocked him with your arm, laughing.
“Stop stealing my food!”
“Sharing is caring, sweetheart”
“I already shared enough. You are robbing me now”
Dean managed to steal another fry and looked at you with a triumphant grin.
You narrow your eyes at him “You’re annoying”
“You love me anyway” He says smugly.
You snort “Questionable choice on my part”
Dean grinned lazily, green eyes bright with amusement. Then, because apparently annoying you was like a hobby to him, he reached for one of your onion rings.
You slapped his hand again “Seriously, why do you always think you’re entitled to my food?”
Dean scoffed dramatically like the answer was obvious.
“‘Cause I’m your boyfriend” He said easily, chewing “It’s literally my right”
Silence.
Dean blinked, and then his eyes widened a bit when realization hit him.
Oh.
Oh, he said it out loud.
You two had never really cared much about labels. You were together. Committed. You both knew exactly what you were to each other, and everyone around you two knew it too. There was never any doubt about that. But neither of you really said words like ‘boyfriend’ or ‘girlfriend’.
Until now that he said it.
You blinked back at him. Then slowly, your mouth turned into a playful grin.
“Did you just use the b word?”
Dean immediately got flustered. Not dramatically, but enough that the tips of his ears turned red while he grabbed his beer and tried very hard to look casual.
“No”
“You did” You chuckle “Boyfriend”
Dean rolled his eyes dramatically “Yeah, alright” He grumbled “What about it?”
“You’ve never called yourself that before”
“Okay, first of all” He said “You’re enjoying this way too much” He points a finger at you defensively.
“A little” You say with a soft laugh “I mean, you called yourself my boyfriend” You repeat with a grin.
“Because I am” He said back instantly “We’ve been exclusive since forever, you live in my bunker, you ride shotgun in my Baby. I’m just stating facts here. Don't make it weird"
“I’m not making it weird” You laughed “I just think it was cute”
“It’s not cute”
“You said it so naturally too” You grin.
He rolled his eyes, pretending to be annoyed.
“Look, I’m regularly risking my life for you and driving you around while you criticize my music choices…”
“I do not criticize your music choices”
“…So I think I’ve earned my boyfriend status” He finished.
“Mhm” You laughed again before adding teasingly “So should I start looking for matching outfits now?”
“Shut up” Dean groaned immediately.
“You started this, boyfriend”
He suddenly grabbed your wrist, tugged you closer and kissed you to shut you up.
You let out a muffled laugh against his lips.
“Conversation’s over” He muttered against your mouth.
When he pulled away slightly, you were still grinning.
Dean narrowed his eyes “You’re annoying”
“And you’re my boyfriend” You repeated with a grin yet again.
summary: a rough day leaves you realizing how different love can sound coming from the right person
─────────｡ ₊°༺❤︎༻°₊ ｡────────
The apartment door clicked shut behind you.
You let out a long, tired sigh as you dropped your keys in the little bowl by the entrance, shoulders tense from the day.
What a nightmare.
It had been one of those exhausting, draining days where every little inconvenience seemed to pile on top of the next; your boss had changed deadlines three times, a coworker had managed to turn a ten minute task into a two hour problem, you’d skipped lunch, you had a headache.
You were simply tired.
You were halfway through taking your coat off when you realized the TV was on.
Your eyebrows lifted.
You’d assumed Ben would be home much later.
But there he was, lounged across the couch like he owned the entire building. One arm stretched over the backrest, a joint held lazily between his fingers, and some old movie playing on the television.
His eyes went to the doorway the second he heard you come in, dark and observant. He takes a slow drag, his expression softening a bit.
“There you are” He spoke with his usual deep voice “Long day at work, sweetheart?”
His voice is that familiar, rough tone, but holding a warmth that seemed to be reserved for you.
You groaned softly “You have no idea”
His eyes track your every movement “That bad, huh?”
You just nodded while hanging your coat nearby.
Ben watched you for another second, not missing the tired look on your face. He didn't ask for details immediately. He just patted his lap in a silent, possessive invitation.
“C’mere, doll”
You didn’t even hesitate, corssing the room towards him.
The second you’re within reach, he hooks an arm around your waist, pulling you down onto his lap with an easy strength. One of his hands settled on your thigh, massaging your skin.
He lifts the joint and offers it to you. You accepted it and took a small drag before handing it back.
He looked at you then, a flicker of irritation crossing his face seeing your worn out expression.
"What’s wrong, doll?" He asked lowly "Who's giving you a hard time? Tell me a name, and I’ll snap their neck"
You let out a small, weary laugh, shaking your head "No one. Just... endless paperwork, too many emails, pointless meetings” You sigh “It’s just been a long day"
He hummed lowly, and pulled you closer against him "Take it easy, honey. I’ve got you"
Honey.
The word settled over you in a comforting way, and suddenly, the past came rushing back as a contrast that made the present feel more precious.
You used to hate when people said 'honey’, or any other pet names for that matter. It was always the words they’d use right before they treat you like you’re stupid.
You remembered your old boss, his voice full of arrogance and mockery when you’d presented that business strategy; “That’s cute, honey, but we’ve got it handled”. The word had been meant to make you sit down and shut up, as if your brain was just a pretty accessory.
You remembered your ‘friend’ at that party, her eyes scanning your dress with sharp criticism “Was that your best option, sweetie? It makes you look big. I’m saying it as a friend”
For years, those names were never about affection. They had been weapons, like small knives meant to cut you to a size that was easier for others to handle. They were meant to tell you that you were less, naive and dismissible.
But here, pressed in the warmth of his arms, the word felt entirely different.
Not because he was gentle, God knew he wasn’t. Not because he was particularly romantic either, half the time he communicated affection by shoving a plate of food towards you and saying eat something.
But somehow, when he called you sweetheart, or doll, or honey… It felt completely different.
In his mouth, the word didn't feel like an insult. There was never any mockery behind it. Never any belittling. Never any implication that you were stupid. He used those names because they felt natural to him when he was looking at you. And somehow, despite being the roughest, least sentimental man you’d ever met, every single one sounded genuine.
And as Ben’s hand moved slowly up and your back, his touch firm and anchoring, the memory of those other voices faded, turning insignificant to the way those words make you feel coming from him.
this one was based in ‘honey’ by taylor, and the idea was from @seriously-dude-what-the-hell 💛
hi! i love your blog! i saw that you're open to suggestions. i was thinking of something with soldier boy and "honey" by tay. feel free to give it a try if you'd like 🫶🏻✨
hii, thank you so much!! 🥹🫶🏻
i really like that song so i will keep this in mind! 👀 and if i do do it i will tag you!! 💘💕
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
hi! after reading the ask about requests, i’m shyly stepping forward. i love season3!dean. he has such an amazing aura in that season. i was wondering if you could write something about the episode “jus in bello” (03x12). in that episode, dean meets nancy, who is still a virgin by choice, and he’s fascinated by her. it would be nice to see the reader in nancy’s shoes, with dean attracted to her—not to take something from her, but to learn something he never would have expected for himself.
hii! 🥹 i’m sorry it took me a little while to respond, i was a little busy and hadn’t finished it but it’s finally here!
i didn’t do it based exactly in that episode, but i tried to keep the focus on what you mentioned you’d like to see, i hope you like it and thanks for the request! 🫶🏻🩷
summary: after learning something unexpected about you, dean finds himself seeing you, and himself, in a completely different light
─────────｡ ₊°༺❤︎༻°₊ ｡────────
Dean had never met someone like you.
You were pretty, kind, and had a genuine sweetness on you, the kind that was rare to find in the hunting life. And yet, at the same time, you were sharp, a total badass, and completely aware of how ugly the world could be. You were a hunter; you knew exactly what was in the dark.
You’d been on the road with Sam and Dean for just under three months. Three months of salt circles, motel rooms and late night research. Three months was enough time for Dean to know you were steady under pressure, brave in the ugly moments, and fast with a gunshot.
And yet, you were untouched by a part of life that Dean had lost long ago.
The day he discovered you were still a virgin, he thought it was a joke.
The conversation had started completely by accident. He’d made a passing joke about a waitress at the diner you’d visited earlier, expecting you to roll your eyes, shoot back some witty response, or simply telling him to shut up. Instead, you’d just brushed it off, completely detached from the subject. One thing led to another, Dean pushed a little further, and then the bomb dropped.
“Wait, you haven’t…?” Dean asked, his eyebrows furrowing as he stared at you.
"Nope" You shrugged slightly.
"Not even..." He gestured vaguely in the air, his voice dropping to a bewildered tone "Like... anything? At all?"
“Nothing at all” You said easily, like it was simply a fact about you rather than something to be awkward about.
That didn’t make sense to him. You were smart, beautiful and confident, there’s no way you hadn’t gotten opportunities to do ot.
"What, is it like... a religious thing or something like that?" He asked, genuinely trying to understand.
But you had just set your jacket down and looked at him dead in the eye with a calm, sure smile.
"It's just my choice, Dean" You explained simply "I never wanted to do it for the sake of doing it"
Dean frowned “What does that even mean?”
You considered the question for a moment.
“I don’t know. I guess I’ve never been interested in treating it casually” You shrugged “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with people who do. It’s just not for me” You said “I want to feel a real connection first”
To Dean, that concept was entirely foreign. For him, sex had always been an escape; a temporary, uncomplicated distraction from the weight of his life. A few hours of pleasure in a nameless town with a nameless face to forget the monsters.
Meeting someone who viewed it as something special, something to be protected and chosen instead of freely given, caught him completely off guard.
You knew exactly what was out there. You hunted the same monsters he did. Still, despite all of that, you’d decided what mattered to you and refused to compromise it.
And he had found himself inexplicably attracted to the certainty of it. To how you knew exactly what you wanted and refused to settle for less.
Over the next few days, Dean couldn't stop observing you. He started noticing the little things he’d overlooked before, like the way you tied your hair up when you were working on something and wanted to focus. The meticulous way you cleaned your weapons, moving your hands with a gentle precision that contrasted with the sharpness of the blade. And your genuine and unsuppressed laugh that always seemed to echo in the Impala, making him smile without even realizing it.
It wasn't just the physical things, though. It was the way you moved through the world. You didn’t seem particularly concerned with proving yourself to anyone. If Dean teased you, you gave it right back. If you disagreed with him, you said so. If you made a mistake, you owned it and moved on.
There was something strangely refreshing about that. You seemed comfortable being exactly who you were. And maybe that was part of what kept drawing his attention back to you.
One night, at a diner, a waitress with a flirtatious smile and an obvious interest in Dean, leaned a little too close as she refilled his coffee. Her voice was sweet, her eyes on him, offering the quick and easy invitation he’d notmally say 'yes' to. A month ago, he wouldn't have even hesitated. But as he looked at her, he thought of how empty that kind of 'yes' really was.
He didn't offer a wink or a lingering look. Instead, he glanced over at you, sitting across the booth with Sam as you scrolled through lore on his laptop. You were focused on the work, unbothered by the situation in front of you.
The thrill of the waitress was gone, replaced by an unexpected clarity. He didn't want the easy distraction; he wanted the kind of connection that felt like yours. Something that wasn't for everyone, something that actually mattered.
Days kept passing, and more than he’d ever admit it out loud, he kept thinking about your words, unable to shake them away.
Finding someone you actually feel a connection with.
Before you, Dean had never really thought about whether he deserved the women he slept with. It had never mattered. They wanted him. He wanted them. End of story.
But you had accidentally triggered his own thoughts.
Now he found himself wondering if he was the kind of man someone like you would choose.
The answer came fast.
Not him.
Not because he didn’t want it, but because he’d never really learned how to offer anything like that. His life didn’t leave room for slow things. For steady things. For something that lasted longer than a motel stay.
He found himself lying down on motel room beds at night, staring at the ceiling while Sam snore in the bed next to his, and wondering what kind of guy would be enough to make you chooe him.
It certainly wouldn't be some random guy in a bar. It would have to be someone who really saw you. Someone dependable. Someone who earned that trust piece by piece, who didn't just want a quick distraction but wanted you. All of you.
Who would be good enough for that? He thought, a heavy feeling settling on his chest.
You were looking for something real. And Dean wasn’t sure what he had to offer besides motel rooms, loaded guns, and an expiration date ticking in the back of his mind.
You deserved a guy who could offer you calmness, safety and depth. You wanted months. Trust. Connection. Time. And with his pending deal, time was the one thing he didn’t have.
The thought left a strange, bitter taste in his mouth.
Without fully realizing it, Dean started seeking you out just to be near you. Not in any dramatic way, just small, unconscious shifts.
When you were researching at some local library, he’d get in the chair right next to yours instead of sitting across the table, his shoulder would gently brush yours as he pretended to read a lore book. When you were riding in the Impala, he found himself offering you the passenger seat, keeping the volume of the radio just a little bit lower than usual, hoping you'd start talking. And when you sat in the backseat, he would constantly check the rearview mirror, just to catch your eye and exchange a small smile. When he brought back coffee, he’d always hand you yours exactly how you liked it, lingering for a second just to catch your grateful smile. Being close to you grounded him, it quieted the hellhound clock of the deal in his head.
One evening, while Sam tried to figure out the map and Dean was sitting on the hood of the Impala, he watched you, a small smile on his face.
A few feet away, you were focused on a stary dog that had wandered over to you. You were speaking to it gently and feeding it pieces of your leftover jerky, laughing softly when it licked your fingers.
And Dean finally had a moment of clarity.
He was incredibly attracted to you. Not just physically —tho God knew he was— but he was completely drawn to who you were. He respected the hell out of your boundaries, and through you, he was learning that wanting someone and wanting to sleep with them weren’t necessarily the same thing, that intimacy could mean something completely different than what he’d always believed. And now, Dean found himself wanting something much, much deeper than a quick distraction. It was a terrifying realization; that he didn't just want to sleep with you, he wanted to be near you for as long as he had left.
dean masterlist
this was based in this request, i know i didn’t exactly do it about that episode 😅 but i tried to keep the essence of what they mentioned bc i think that was the focus of the request, so i hope you like it, and thanks for reading <3
summary: ben has a reputation to uphold as a legendary supe, but his girls are worth the risk
─────────｡ ₊°༺❤︎༻°₊ ｡────────
If anyone from Ben’s past, anyone from Payback or from the old days, could see him right now, they wouldn’t even recognize the man.
He’d look them dead in the eye and swear that he was just "handling his responsibilities" and doing his job as the man of the house, but you knew better.
The legendary Soldier Boy. The strongest man on earth. The ruthless leader of Payback who didn't take shit from anyone, was currently being held hostage in his own living room.
Your baby girl was a few months old now. She was a lot more mobile, bubbly, and completely unaware of who her father was. Her tiny fist was curled tightly around the collar of his shirt, while her other hand gently tapped his face, her small fingers poking at his beard curiously as if to see what would happen.
Ben grumbled, but he didn’t make any effort to move away. On the contrary, his arm was wrapped around her, holding her steady so she wouldn’t lose her balance and fall.
He looked up when he heard your footsteps "Doll, she’s testing my beard again" He said with an impatience you knew wasn’t really there “Tell her it’s not a damn toy”
You walked into the living room from the kitchen, a warmed baby bottle in your hand "You can always put her down, you know" You said with amusement, sitting next to them and leaning back on the couch.
Ben scoffed, looking at you like you’d just suggested something ridiculous.
"I can't" He muttered "She’ll cry if I put her down. Then she’s gonna give me those damn eyes, and eventually I’ll have to pick her up again"
You chuckled softly, shaking your head. You knew better than to believe he was holding her out of obligation. He didn't put her down because he simply didn't want to.
Ben reached out, taking the bottle from your hand. He guided the nipple to her mouth, and your daughter immediately cuddled against his chest, latching on her milk. Her tiny, bright eyes never left his face.
Ben supported her head as he watched her drink "She looks exactly like you, y’know" He muttered quietly, his tone softening just a bit "Got your nose. Your eyes" He paused for a moment, staring at her face before a dark, protective scowl appeared on his face "Look at her. She’s gonna grow up, use those damn eyes on some idiot, and get whatever the hell she wants. Just like you do with me"
He looked up at you then "If she ever brings a boy home, he’s not coming out again. I’ll bury him in the backyard”
You burst out laughing "Ben, she’s not even a year old yet. Relax"
"I’m just thinking ahead, doll" He grumbled "Gotta keep the vultures away"
A few days later, the quiet afternoon was interrupted by soft, happy babbling coming from the nursery. You paused what you were doing and made your way there to check on your baby girl, assuming she had just woken up from her nap.
But when you pushed the door open, she wasn't in her crib.
She hadn’t just woken up from her nap, but she was also sitting on the soft carpet of the room. Her hair still a little messy from sleep, but she looked awake and content, with Ben sitting on the floor right next to her.
She was surrounded by a comical amount of toys, and a brand new baby swing that definitely hadn't been there yesterday.
You leaned against the doorframe, a smirk on your lips. It was hilarious how her little collection of toys had grown, and it was all because of Ben. The man absolutely loved spoiling his two girls, even if he would completely deny it every single time you teased him about it.
Just the other day, he’d walked through the front door carrying a boutique shopping bag. He’d tossed it on your lap with a casual grunt.
“Brought something for you” He’d muttered, nodding towards the bag “And for the squirt”
When you opened it, you nearly melted. Inside was a gorgeous summer dress for you, and right beneath it, a tiny, identical matching version for your daughter.
When you had teased him about it, asking if the great Soldier Boy was getting into fashion, he’d just grumbled “They were on sale. Don't look into it”
But the small smirk on his face had completely given him away. He wanted his girls to match.
You looked at them. Your daughter grabbed a plushie from the floor, clumsily lifting it with both hands and holding it out to Ben, looking up at him expectantly.
Ben looked at the toy with narrowed eyes, then looked up at you "She's looking at me again" He grumbled "Like she expects me to entertain her. I’m a global icon, doll. I don't do that peek-a-boo crap you do"
You laughed, walking into the room "Oh, come on. I’m sure a global icon can handle a stuffed bear”
"I handle threats to national security, not fuzzy animals" He complained, tho his hand was already reaching out to take the toy from her.
Before you could tease him back, a soft babble interrupted. Your little girl cooed, her eyes locked on Ben's face.
"Da…da" She babbled, patting his knee and handing him another toy. Then she repeated it, more clearly this time “Dada”
The room went silent for a moment. Ben froze, his hand stopping mid-air. For a split second, his tough-guy attitude completely cracked. A mix of pride and a rare vulnerability appeared on his face.
It was her very first word. And it had been him.
You felt your own heart melt. A soft, emotional smile on your face as you watched your daughter and Ben’s reaction.
But Ben didn't do emotional crap. He caught himself quickly, clearing his throat and shaking his head as he grabbed the toy she was holding out.
"Yeah, yeah. That’s right" He muttered, a small, smug smirk on his face "You tell your mom who’s number one around here"
You rolled your eyes, but there was pure warmth in your chest. You sit down with them and leaned in, resting your head on his shoulder while your daughter happily started chewing on the ear of a stuffed bunny.
Ben dropped the stuffed animal to wrap his arm around your waist, pulling you tightly against his side while his eyes were still on the baby.
"Look at you two" He murmured lowly "You’re completely ruining my reputation. If the guys from Payback saw me right now, I'd have to kill 'em all just to keep 'em quiet"
You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder "Is it really that bad?"
Ben stared at you for a long moment, his thumb tracing your cheek before dropping back down to hold you tight. A small smirk appeared on his face as he looked between his two girls.
“It's worth it" He murmured softly against your hair.
so i wasn’t really thinking about a part three for this little story but @angel444riley shared an idea and this is what i came up with, i hope i did justice to what you had in mind haha
