Guardian Angel?

Pairing: Castiel x F!Reader

Summary: After you almost die in a car accident, your guardian angel, Castiel, saves you, even though he wasn't supposed to, he couldn't help it.

Warnings: mdni 18+. smut. p in v (unprotected). oral (f receiving). dom!cas. orgasm denial.

A/N: For my friend who I promised I'd make a Cas fic for.

masterlist — taglist

The truck came out of nowhere.

Just a loud screech, a deafening horn, blinding lights—and then, nothing but darkness.

But then you woke up in your bed at home, as if the crash had never happened.

You gasped and shot upright, your sheets tangled around your legs. A trembling hand pressed to your chest.

Morning light slipped through the curtains, warm and golden. Your body was intact. No pain. No blood. No glass in your skin. You blinked.

Was it a dream? It had to be…

You swung your legs off the bed, your feet hitting the floor with a soft thud, and pushed yourself up. You expected pain. Or to be dead.

Then you heard a flutter of wings behind you.

Standing at the foot of your bed—trench coat, tousled hair, those impossibly blue eyes that seemed to see right through you—Castiel.

“Cas—” you whispered. “Did you—”

“I saved you, yes,” he said, taking a step closer.

“You died, and I—” He paused, taking your hand. “I couldn’t let that happen."

“But if I was supposed to die…” you whispered, but he cut you off.

“I was not letting that happen.”

“You saved me.” You stepped closer. “Why?”

His voice was rough. “Because I need you."

His eyes shifted—still full of care, but now with a hint of lust.

“I shouldn’t want this. Want you like this. But I do. I need you.”

“You have me,” you whispered.

His lips crashed against yours, hungry and dominant. His hands slid into your hair, gripping just tight enough to draw a gasp from your mouth. He swallowed it, deepening the kiss, his tongue sweeping past your lips, tangling with yours.

You barely had time to breathe before you felt yourself pressed against the wall, his trench coat falling to the floor. Your shirt was yanked over your head, pants and panties quickly following as he pulled them down with ease.

“Cas—”

“Shh,” he growled against your skin. “Let me take care of you.”

He sank to his knees, hands gripping your thighs like a man starved. And maybe he had been—after all, angels don’t typically do this.

He kissed down your thighs before lifting one leg over his shoulder. His tongue dragged slowly up your slit, then back down, teasing your clit in slow, agonizing circles. You moaned, fingers threading through his hair.

But every time you got close—every time you teetered on the edge—he pulled back.

“Cas… please—” you whined softly.

“Not yet,” he said, his voice commanding. “You don’t cum until I say.”

He stood, slowly unbuckling his belt. “On the bed. Now. Legs apart.”

You didn’t hesitate, laying down just as he asked.

“Good girl.” He approached the bed, tugging his pants down to reveal his hard, leaking cock.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, trailing a hand down your side.

You nodded without hesitation. “Yes.”

“Stay still for me, angel.” He slid inside you slowly, a guttural sound escaping his throat as he stretched you open.

“Fuck, Cas—” you gasped, your nails digging into his back. So full. So perfect.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck. “You’re mine. Say it.”

“I’m yours, Cas.”

He began to move, thrusts hard and deep. He pinned your wrists above your head, taking full control—every stroke hitting that sweet spot inside you.

But still, he wouldn’t let you come.

Each time your walls fluttered, each time you clenched around him, he slowed. Ground his hips in tight, teasing circles. Whispered filthy things in your ear that made you beg.

“Please, Castiel. Let me… let me cum—”

“Not yet,” he said again, panting now, barely in control. “You’ll cum when I cum. You’ll feel me fill you and fall apart at the same time. Do you understand?”

You nodded frantically. “Yes… yes… please—”

He slammed into you harder now, thrusts erratic, desperate.

And when he finally gave the order—

“Now. Cum. Now.”

—You shattered.

Your orgasm ripped through you like a wave, your body trembling violently beneath him. Castiel groaned, burying himself deep as he spilled inside you, his whole body shuddering.

You lay together in silence, tangled and sweating, his arms wrapped around you like he’d never let go.

He kissed your shoulder, voice low and soft. “You weren’t meant to die,” he whispered. “But maybe… I wasn’t meant to be just your guardian angel either.”

Crazy

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x F!Reader

Summary: Jensen is trying to work but you love to drive him crazy.

Warnings: Smut. Oral (M Receiving). Dom!Jensen. Semi-Public (In Front Of Others Without Them Knowing). Rough Sex. Slapping. Some Pet names. No Use Of Y/N.

A/N: We were being very horny in a gc with some friends of mine and we started talking about this scenario, so I had to write it. Also ignore the stupid dates and random words, I just threw like big meeting words in it.

masterlist — taglist

Jensen sat back in his chair, the screen of his laptop casting cool blue light across his face.

He looked effortless — one arm resting on the desk, the other lazily curled near his chin, fingers brushing his jaw while his agent and the showrunner rattled off potential dates for the next month of production.

“We’re tentatively thinking the 10th through the 24th,” the showrunner said. "You good with that?"

“Depends on flights,” Jensen replied, tone smooth, even. “And whether I get a bed that isn’t moving for more than two days.” His voice was calm and professional.

You entered the room without a word.

You didn’t make eye contact. Didn’t speak.

You just sank slowly to your knees and slid beneath the desk between his legs, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body through his joggers.

He didn’t look down.

But his thigh twitched the moment your fingers brushed the inside of it.

Still, he kept talking.

“If we’re going into press immediately after the shoot,” he said, “I want my call times locked by the 5th.”

Your hands slid higher, slow, steady, deliberate.

He clicked mute.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he muttered, low and sharp.

Your mouth was already on him.

You pressed your lips right where he was already starting to harden beneath the soft fabric of his joggers. His hips shifted — reflex, not choice. His knuckles tightened against the desk.

You smiled. And kissed him again.

"You're fucking crazy, y'know that?" He murmured.

You traced the shape of him with your mouth, kissing slow and patient, until he was fully hard and straining against the fabric. Then your fingers hooked his waistband, tugged it down just enough to free him.

Thick. Hot. Already leaking.

You wrapped your hand around him and stroked once, slow and tight.

Then took him into your mouth.

He didn’t breathe for a second. Then he let out a low, harsh exhale and clicked back to unmute.

“If we push press to the week after, I can flex the 29th and 30th,” he said, his voice raspier now, just a hair off. “But I need confirmation by end of day.”

You swallowed him deeper.

His hand slid under the desk and into your hair. Not guiding. Just holding. Anchoring. Like he needed the contact to survive the storm you were pulling him into.

You sucked him slow and deep, your rhythm perfect, your tongue circling with precision. He tried to stay still. Tried to keep the mask on. But his thighs flexed, his hand trembled, and you could feel how badly he wanted to lose control.

Muted again.

“You keep going like that,” he growled, “and I’m gonna cum all over your tongue with three people still watching me.”

You moaned around him.

His cock twitched hard in your mouth.

“You like that?” he said, breath breaking. “Knowing they’re listening while you take me apart under the desk?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.

Your mouth was too full, too busy wrecking him inch by inch.

He clicked unmute again, barely hanging on.

“Uh...yeah,” he said, voice rough, strained. “I’m good with that.”

No one on the call noticed. They had no idea what was going on beneath the camera.

But you felt everything. The way his muscles tensed, the heat building fast beneath his skin, the way his hips started to roll against your mouth, searching for friction he knew he shouldn’t chase.

Muted.

“Fuck. I’m gonna—”

And then he did.

He came with a stifled groan, hand clamped over his mouth, thighs shaking around you as his cock pulsed his hot cum against your tongue. You swallowed every drop, held him there, let him ride it out while he came completely undone.

The meeting ended with a quiet click.

And then silence.

His chest rose and fell. He looked down at you.

Eyes dark. Mouth parted.

“Get out from under that desk,” he said, “and bend the fuck over it.”

You didn’t even get the chance to stand.

Jensen grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you out from under the desk, his grip firm, possessive, not cruel, but firm. He was done pretending to keep it together. The moment that meeting ended, he snapped.

“You want to act like a little fucking distraction,” he growled, voice low and dangerous, “then you’re gonna take what you fucking asked for.”

You barely had time to catch your breath before he turned you around and shoved you down onto the desk. Papers scattered. Your hands hit the wood hard, legs trembling.

He didn’t undress you carefully. He yanked your pants down fast, rough, baring you completely, his palm dragging across your ass as he kicked your legs farther apart.

“Stay there. Don’t move.”

The warning in his voice was sharp enough to sting. He wasn't playing around any longer.

You heard the sound of his joggers hitting the floor, and then he shoved inside, thick and deep, in one brutal thrust.

You cried out, your hands clawing at the edge of the desk. He didn’t pause. Didn’t ask. Didn’t soothe.

He just grabbed your hips and started using you.

His pace was relentless, deep, pounding thrusts that sent the desk rattling under your body, your breath punched out of you with every slam. His fingers dug into your waist, holding you in place like he owned you. You are his.

“Thought you were so fucking clever, huh baby girl?" he snarled, fucking you harder. “Sitting under that desk, moaning around my cock while I’m trying to talk.”

You tried to answer but couldn’t.

He reached up, grabbed your hair, yanked your head back just enough to growl in your ear.

“You wanted my attention, yeah? Like the little slut you are," His hips slammed forward. “Now you’ve got all of it.”

You choked out a gasp, pleasure blooming fast inside you. Your body was already close, already raw and wet from everything before, and now he was wrecking you, ruining you with each punishing thrust.

“You’re dripping,” he hissed. “You fucking like this, huh? My fucking slut."

You nodded frantically, your voice broken. “Yes. God, yes—”

He smacked your ass hard.

“Louder.”

“Yes, Jensen—!”

His hand wrapped around your throat and pinned you flat against the desk, his body caging you in while he thrust deeper, angrier. His cock filled you completely, slamming into that spot that made you scream.

“Good girl,” he growled. “You don’t get to be quiet now.”

You came first, back arching, breath breaking, your orgasm crashing through you so violently your knees gave out. But he held you up. Fucked you through it.

And he didn’t stop.

Not until you were whimpering and pleading under him.

Only then did his rhythm falter. His grip tightened. A vicious growl ripped out of his chest as he came, hard, deep inside you, every muscle locked down as he emptied himself with a final punishing thrust that left you gasping.

Then silence. Just your bodies. Breathless. Sweat-covered. His cock still inside you. His hand still holding you down.

Then his voice, ragged and low against your ear.

“You want to pull that stunt again?” he breathed. “Next time, I won’t be this nice.”

A/N: I went to SPN NJ this past Sunday and I miss it so much. Jensen and Jared give such good hugs. Ugh I miss them.

Copper

Pairing: Demon!Dean x F!Reader

Summary: You're on your period but that doesn't stop Dean from taking what he wants.

Warnings: Mdni. Smut. Period Sex. Oral (F Receiving). Blood play kinda. Pet Names. Demon!Dean (he's a warning). No use of Y/N.

A/N: Got an ask for this a while ago from anon. Slowly catching up on fic requests lol. Not edited well.

masterlist — taglist

The door opens with a heavy creak.

You don’t move. You’re sprawled across the bed in nothing but Dean’s flannel, your bare legs tangled in the cheap motel sheets, heating pad long since gone cold. You’re cramping, tired, and aching in that low, pulsing way you hate.

But none of that matters the moment you hear his boots hit the floor.

He’s back from wherever he went. You gave up asking. You've been with him since he became a demon. Since the Mark made him a demon.

“Hey,” you murmur, voice soft, not turning to look. “Didn’t think you’d be back this early."

Dean doesn’t respond.

You feel it before you see him, that weight in the air, thick with something dark. Something that wasn’t there when he left.

You turn your head and he's just inside the doorway. Silent. Watching you.

And then he breathes in. Long. Deep. Slow. He goes still.

“What is that,” he says, quiet. But it’s not a question. His voice is a low, rough rasp.

His eyes drop to your bare thighs. The flannel shirt bunched around your hips. The tiny smear of red on the inside of your leg.

Then his eyes meet yours, and they flick to that empty, dark, black.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he breathes, a slow, wicked smile curling across his lips. “You’re bleeding.”

You sit up quickly. “Dean, wait—”

He pushes you back down, hand going over your mouth to shut you up.

“I can smell it,” he growls, voice going low and gravelly. “The second I walked in. That sweet little tang in the air. Copper and heat and wet.”

He stands back up.

“You didn’t tell me.”

“I didn’t think you’d—”

“Would what? Say no?” His grin turns sharp. His eyes flick back to his normal green, but still dark with desire. “Fuck no. You think this turns me off?” He stands at the edge of the bed, staring down at you like you’re a feast. “You think I don’t want you like this?”

He’s already pulling off his jacket. Dropping it to the floor.

“I want you more.”

You shift, breath catching, and that’s all it takes. He’s on you in a blink, grabbing your ankles and dragging you down the bed to the edge.

“Dean—"

“You’re ripe,” he growls, kneeling between your legs, shoving the shirt up to your waist. “You’re dripping for me, bleeding for me. Fuck, baby, this pussy’s begging to be fed.”

He doesn’t ask. Doesn’t wait.

His mouth is on you, tongue dragging through your folds, licking the blood and slick like it’s the first real meal he's had in days. He groans like it hurts, fingers digging into your thighs as he spreads you wider.

You gasp, your hips jerking, but he pins them down.

“Oh, you’re not going anywhere,” he growls against your skin. “You’re gonna let me devour this pretty little pussy. Let me taste what your body’s giving me.”

He eats you like a starving man.

Your hands clutch the sheets, back arching, thighs shaking as he moans into your cunt, tongue fucking you deeper and rougher. The sound of it is obscene. The sounds of slurping, panting, low growls vibrating through your core.

“You taste like sin,” he groans. “Like blood and want and mine.”

You’re falling apart, legs trembling, your breath is ragged as he pushes you over the edge. You cry out, clenching around his tongue, and he doesn’t stop. Just keeps licking, like he’s trying to drink every last drop.

When he finally pulls back, his mouth is soaked. Chin slick with a faint red. He looks dangerous.

You're trying to catch your breath.

Then he’s already unzipping his jeans.

He flips you over onto your stomach, pulling your hips into the air.

“You wrecked already, baby?” he mutters, lining himself up. “I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

He sinks in slow, stretching you open, blood and slick easing the way. You whimper, gripping the sheets as an anchor.

Dean groans in your ear.

“That’s it,” he growls. “Feel that? That’s me claiming you.”

He fucks you deep, steady, skin slapping with every thrust.

"You take me so fuckin' well, my bloody little slut," He growls, hips meeting yours roughly.

He continues moving rough and fast until you're at the edge again, trembling beneath him as you cry out his name. He fucks you through your orgasm.

His orgasm follows as he grinds into you, filling you with his cum.

His cock is still buried inside you, his chest rising and falling with heavy, ragged breaths. His hands are on your hips, holding you wide open, and the sheets beneath you are ruined, streaked in blood and slick and sweat.

Dean pulls out slowly, and the mess between your legs makes him groan.

He stares at your cunt clenching around nothing, dripping his cum, your blood, everything.

“Fuck,” he mutters, dragging a finger through it. Watching the mixture coat his skin. He lifts it to his mouth and licks it clean with a low growl.

He lays down beside you, leaning over to kiss your neck.

“You ever hide this from me again,” he murmurs, voice still dark but quieter now, “I’ll tie you to this bed and make sure you never hide it from me again.”

A/N: We did not get a long enough time with Demon Dean.

Ribbon

Pairing: Soldier Boy x F!Reader

Summary: It's your anniversary. He takes you away from the chaos of the world for a weekend. Just you, him, and a cozy cabin.

Warnings: Fluff in Ben's own way. Smut. Oral (F Receiving), Fingering, P in V, Getting Tied Up

A/N: For Liane's 500 follower celebration! @chevroletdean Mood board made by them!

masterlist — taglist

The drive was long—winding roads through miles of dense forest, pine trees like sentinels standing guard on either side. The engine purred, the heat was cranked, and you sat beside him, feet up on the dash, sipping coffee and watching him from the corner of your eye.

You hadn’t said much. Neither had he.

You didn’t need to.

This weekend wasn’t for small talk—it was for something far more primal. No Vought. No cities. No distractions. Just them, locked away in a cabin at the edge of nowhere. Just the smell of pine, the glow of fire—and what he planned to do to you behind closed doors.

When you pulled up, the place looked straight out of a fantasy. Nestled into the base of a tree-lined slope, the old timber cabin was lit from within by the soft flicker of electric lanterns. The air was so still it felt like time had stopped.

Ben killed the engine, then turned to you. His voice was low, rough.

“You ready for me to make disappear you for 48 hours?”

You smirked, but your stomach flipped. “Try me.”

You unpacked slowly. He insisted on carrying everything. You let him. Inside, the air was already warm. Rustic and clean, the cabin smelled like cedar and firewood. A small fireplace burned near the center of the room. A thick green plaid blanket was thrown over a leather armchair. Your eyes drifted to the bed: king-sized, heavy wood, and covered in flannel sheets.

You barely noticed him stepping back outside with his sleeves rolled up, dragging logs from the woodpile.

You were still scanning the room when you saw it.

A box. On the edge of the bed.

Black. Neat. Tied with a velvet green ribbon.

Your pulse jumped. You walked over, heart already pounding before you even touched it. A little tag was tucked under the bow.

Wear this if you want to see me come undone. – B

You untied the ribbon slowly. Inside: a green lace set so delicate and daring it made your breath catch. You let your fingers trail over it—soft, sheer, luxurious. Barely there.

You hesitated. Smiled. Then changed into it.

By the time Ben came back inside, dropping logs in the bin beside the fireplace, you were leaning against the bedpost—bare legs, flannel shirt open and loose over the brand-new lingerie, the ribbon looped loosely around your fingers.

He froze.

The door thudded shut behind him. His gloves hit the floor. His eyes dragged over you like he couldn’t believe you were real.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered.

“You said you’d come undone.”

“I lied.” His voice was wrecked, low and dark. “This? This is me breaking.”

He crossed the room in two strides, grabbed you waist, and kissed you so hard your knees nearly gave out. One hand slid into your hair. The other gripped your ass through the lace, fingers digging in. When he pulled back, his lips were red, pupils blown.

“That set’s not surviving the hour.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

He backed you onto the bed and followed you down, mouth tracing your neck, tongue flicking over your pulse. His hand slid up your thigh and snapped the waistband of the panties.

“You know what this does to me?” he rasped. “You. In that shirt. In this.”

“Then rip it off.”

“No.” He leaned in, nose brushing hers. “First I want to make you beg me to.”

He stripped the flannel from your shoulders and pushed you back onto the bed. Then—slowly—he took the ribbon from your hands and pulled it taut, testing the strength. His grin was wicked.

“You kept this for a reason.”

You met his gaze. “Thought maybe you’d want to use it.”

“You really do want me to lose control, huh?”

He grabbed your wrists, kissed your knuckles, then tied them to the metal headboard with the ribbon—tight, but careful. His fingers brushed your skin as he knotted it.

“There. That’s better.”

You squirmed, already aching.

“Look at you,” he murmured, tracing the lace over your breasts, down to your hips. “Tied up like a gift. My gift.”

He went slow at first. Fingers brushing, teasing. His mouth followed, trailing heat across your stomach, between your legs. He kissed you through the lace, tongue tracing where you were already soaked. You gasped when he pulled the panties to the side and buried his tongue in you.

“Stay still,” he murmured.

You nodded, whimpering when his mouth latched onto your clit.

You writhed, ribbon-tied wrists tugging. He held your thighs apart and licked you with long, slow strokes until your legs started to shake.

“Please—Ben—”

“Oh, now you’re begging.”

He sucked harder, fingers sliding inside you, curling just right. His other hand held you down at your stomach.

"I said stay still."

He didn’t stop. Made you cum again, and again—until you were slick, shaking, breathless beneath him.

Then he untied your wrists and flipped you over. Ripped the panties in half.

“Now,” he growled, lining up behind her. “I ruin you.”

He thrust into you in one deep, slow push—filling you to the hilt. You moaned, hands clutching the sheets. He gripped your hips, teeth gritted, trying to hold back.

But he couldn’t.

He pounded into you hard, deep, rough—fucking you like it was the only thing keeping him alive. Your moans turned to screams. His hand slipped down again, rubbing fast and dirty circles against your clit as he drove into you, breath hot against your spine.

“Mine,” he gasped. “You hear me, baby doll? Mine."

“Yes—yes—”

You came with a cry, body spasming. He followed with a loud, guttural moan, thrusting deep and staying there, cumming hard inside you, shaking from the intensity.

You collapsed in a tangled mess of sweat, lace, and firelight.

The rain fell quietly outside.

He brushed a strand of hair from your face. “You okay?”

You smiled, dazed. “You just used your anniversary gift to tie me up. I’m great.”

He smirked. “Hope you’re not too tired.”

Your brow lifted.

He leaned in close. “There’s a hot tub out back. And I’m bringing the ribbon.”

A/N: I'm kinda proud of this one. Hope you like it!

Let Them Look

Pairing: Soldier Boy x F!Reader

Warnings: MDNI 18+ only! SMUT! Semi-Public (in front of a window), Language, P in V, Unprotected Sex, Rough Sex, Oral (F Receiving), Pet Names, Choking, Slapping, Soldier Boy (he's a warning), Creampie, no use of y/n.

Summary: Ben needs to show everyone who you really belong to.

A/N: smut prompt #2 from this prompt list requested by @jays-bonnie-on-the-side

masterlist — taglist

It was another Vought party. You stand nearby the bar in your black dress looking around the party. You were a supe too, a member of the Payback team, but you weren't as popular as some of your teammates, such as the TNT Twins or Black Noir. And especially not as popular as the team leader, Soldier Boy or his supposed girlfriend, Crimson Countess.

You and Soldier Boy, Ben, have had your ups and downs. You're not one for letting someone walk all over you, so when he gives you a hard time, you dish it right back. Yet deep down, you can't help but find him extremely attractive.

You were sipping a drink, just observing the party when a handsome man walks over to you.

"Don't tell me a pretty little thing like you is all alone on a fine night like tonight?" The man says, leaning against the bar next to you.

"Well, I'm not alone now," You reply with a small smirk, turning to face the man next to you.

"No, you sure aren't," the man replies with a sly grin, "Name's Dan" he says, holding his hand out to shake.

You give him your name as he shakes your hand.

"So, can I buy you a drink?" Dan asks.

"By all means, I'm not one to turn down a free drink," you say, gesturing to the bar.

Dan waives the bartender over to get you a drink.

You and Dan sit at the bar talking for about half an hour, enjoying the drinks and each other's company.

"So, sweetheart, what do you say we get out of here, hm?" He smirks.

"Lead the way," you smirk back. He takes your hand and guides you out of the party.

Little did you know, Ben was watching your entire interaction with Dan. When he saw you leave with him, he exucsed himself from the girls who were surrounding him and followed you and Dan out of the party.

What he found was Dan and you in the hallway outside of the party. Dan had you pinned against the wall as the two of you were making out.

Ben walks over to you both and he pulls Dan off of you. "Get the fuck away from her!"

"Hey! What the hell man?!" Dan says, defensively.

"Get lost. Now." Ben says, narrowing his eyes at Dan.

"What the hell is your problem?!" You snap at Ben.

His shoulders tense, his anger rising at your words. He takes another step closer, towering over you.

"My problem is you. Flirting with some random guy at the party. Letting him kiss you." He can't help the possessive edge in his voice.

"Why the hell do you care what the fuck I do?!" You can't believe his audacity. It's not like you're his, no matter how hot you think he is.

"I just do, alright?!" Ben wasn't going to admit that he felt a pang of jealousy seeing you with that guy.

You let out a scoff, "So what? I'm not allowed to live my life? You don't control me, Ben," you say, standing your ground, stepping closer to him.

He can feel his anger rising with every defiant word that comes out of your mouth. He steps even closer, towering over you.

"Don't test me." There's a dangerous edge to his voice now, a clear warning.

You glare up at him, "Or what?"

He grabs your arm and pulls you into a nearby room, a room that overlooks the party guests who are outside.

Ben turns to face you as he steps toward you, backing you against the wall.

He takes your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, tilting your head up to look at him. "I don't want you goin' around flirting with other men, understand?" He says, his voice low and rather demanding.

You turn your chin from his grasp, "You can't control what I do. I don't belong to you."

His jaw clenches tighter. He knew that was true, you didn't belong to him. Yet. He grabs your arms pinning you to the wall.

"By the time I'm done with you, you'll want nothing more than to belong to me, doll." The words come out possessive, like a growl.

He finally lets go of your arm, but only to move his hand up to your throat. His grip is loose, but enough to keep you pinned against the wall.

"You better remember that next time you're out there slutting around with other guys." His voice is low and dangerous, his entire body radiating with possessiveness and jealousy.

You can't help the wave of pleasure that washes over you, causing your breath to hitch from the feeling of his hand around your throat and his possessive words.

He sees the hitch in your breath and a small, almost feral smirk crosses his lips.

"You like that, don't you?" He squeezes your neck gently, his eyes never leaving yours, "Being pinned here like this? Knowing I have complete control over you."

"Shut up," You mumble, knowing there's no way you could lie your way out of this one, not with the way your body is betraying how you really feel.

He chuckles at your mumbled response, clearly enjoying the way he's got you pinned there, "Can't deny it, can you?"

He leans in closer, his face just inches away from yours, "You like it when I get possessive. When I take charge. You like it when I make you fall into submission, make you beg," He leans to your ear, "You like being my good girl," He purrs into your ear.

A shiver runs down your spine at his words, and he smirks, "See, you just needed a little push, huh baby doll? C'mere, want you to see somethin'," he removes his hand from your neck and takes your arm. He pulls you over to the nearby window.

"See down there? All those guys? They'd all love a chance to be with you. But that'll never happen," he says, moving the pieces of my hair off my shoulder, tracing his fingers along my neck, "you know why, baby doll?"

You feel another shiver down your spine as goosebumps run through your body, "Why?" You manage to breathe out, almost breathlessly.

He traces his fingers along your neck til his hand comes to your chin, forcing you to look at him, "Because you're mine," he growls "Understand?"

You nod your head, his hand still gripping your chin.

"Words, baby doll, need to hear you say it. Who do you belong to?"

"You, I belong to you," You manage to say, feeling the warmth inside you, the wetness pooling between your legs.

"Good girl," he says lowly as he moves to stand behind you. He leans in, his breath fanning your ear as he presses his chest to your back, "Gonna make sure you never forget it," he mumbles, pressing his lips to the exposed skin of your neck.

He starts off gentle but his kisses become rougher as he nips and bites at your skin, leaving a trail of bruises.

"T-the people down there," you say, looking out the window, "they can see us."

"So? Let them look," he murmurs against your skin. "I'm gonna show every damn bastard down there that you're mine, and no one messes with what's mine," he growls into your ear, gripping your hips tightly.

He cups your chin with his hand, turning your head to look at him. His eyes are burning with desire, "Come here."

He pulls you away from the window and pushes you onto the nearby desk, his body pressed between your legs.

"Gonna make every fucker jealous that you're mine and not theirs," he says lowly as he leans above you, gripping your hips with his hands.

He doesn't wait for a response, his lips crashing down onto yours in a rough, hungry kiss. His body presses you further onto the desk, his one hand sliding up to grip your wrists to keep them pinned above your head.

Your body immediately reacts to the kiss, moaning into his mouth, your hips trying to arch up for some sort of friction, but his hand keeps your hips pinned down.

He reaches for your the hem of your dress, his hands fisting in the fabric as he starts to pull it up. "I need to see more of you," He says, his voice gruff with desire as he pulls your dress up, exposing your black lace panties.

"Fuck," He says, his voice deep and gruff, "You're so gorgeous."

He can barely contain himself, his desire for you taking over, "I need to taste you, "He whispers, his lips finding your neck, "Every inch of you."

You moan softly as he trails kisses down your neck, across your chest, and down your stomach.

He finally reaches the waistband of your underwear, his hands toying with the material. He looks up at you, his eyes dark and hungry.

“Lift your hips," He says, tapping your hip with his hand to get you to lift up.

You lift your hips up, watching his every movement with nothing but desire and arousal in your gaze.

He tugs off your underwear, leaving you completely naked beneath him. His eyes rake over your body, taking in every inch.

“Damn…” He curses under his breath, his hands gripping your thighs. He kneels between your legs, spreading them further apart, "You’re so beautiful.”

“I want to taste you.” He says, his voice low and gravelly, "I want to make you come apart," His hands grip your thighs tighter, holding you in place, "But you don't deserve that yet. Wanna hear you beg. Beg me to taste you."

"P-please," You choke out, "Fuck- Need...need your mouth on me, taste me, please, Ben"

He can hear the need in your voice, the desperation with which you’re begging him. It only makes him want you more, more than he’s ever wanted anyone before.

“Damn…” He says lowly, looking up at you from between your legs. He grips your thighs tighter, his fingers digging into your skin, "I’m gonna make you cum so hard, baby doll."

He doesn't waste any more time as he quickly latches his mouth to your clit, sucking and nibbling at it.

"A-ah...Ben-" You moan out, gripping the sides of the desk as your hips arch

He moves his tongue between your dripping folds, tasting every drop of you as he holds your hips in place with his hands.

His tongue darts in and out of your entrance as he eats you like he's been starving for weeks.

"Oh fuck Ben, don't stop," You moan out, feeling your climax approaching.

Ben didn't plan on stopping, he wants to feel you come on his mouth, to see you fall apart for him. He continues to tongue fuck your cunt, pulling you closer to your orgasm.

"Ben...ah...fuck I'm gonna cum-" You moan as you reach your peak and fall apart on the desk as he laps up every last drop of your orgasm.

"Fuck baby doll...you taste so fuckin' delicious," He says, coming up from between your lege, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

You lay back on the desk, catching your breath, your grip on the desk loosening as you go to adjust your dress

Ben stops you, grabbing your wrists, "ah ah...I'm not done with you yet, doll." He pulls you up onto your wobbly legs, turning you around and bending you over the desk.

Ben begins to undo his pants singlehandedly as his other hand grips your hip.

"Every fucker downstairs can look up here and they're gonna see who you belong to," he says holding you against the desk, "Ain't that right, doll?"

You nod your head against the desk with a soft hum, the pleasure still coursing through your veins as you still come down from your high.

"Gonna fill this pussy up so well, every goddamn man is gonna wish they had a chance to fuck this pussy, but it's all mine," he growls, gripping the skin of your ass with his hands, giving the right cheek a firm smack.

You whimper a moan at the sensation. You need him so bad, "Please Ben, need you in me."

He leans down, his chest against your back as he presses kisses along your skin.

"God I love it when you beg for me, doll. What is it you want, hm? Want me to show everyone you're mine? Want me to fill up this pussy so full you'll never want another man's cock inside you?" He murmurs against your skin.

His words make you shiver with pleasure, "Y-yes...make me yours, Ben, please make me yours."

He has his pants tugged down, his cock out and dripping with precum. He holds you down, bent over against the desk as he runs his cock through your folds.

He suddenly thrusts into you, your pussy fulling sheathing his cock as he bottoms out, gaining a loud, choked moan from you.

"Fuck baby doll, you're so fuckin' tight," he groans out, his hands digging into your hips as he begins to thrust into you.

"Oh fuck- Ben-" You moan as you grasp the desk once more.

His hand snakes around you, wrapping around your neck as he pulls you up so your back is to his chest as he pounds up into you.

"So. Fucking. Good." He grunts with every thrust, his hand gripping tighter around your neck.

You're completely lost in the feeling of him pounding deep inside you, the pleasure building up again.

"Ben, f-fuck, y-y-yes," you strangle a moan as he continues driving into you at a fast rate.

"Takin' my cock so well, baby doll. Fuck, your pussy feels so good around me," He groans, attaching his lips to your neck, his hand still holding its grasp around your neck.

You feel yourself getting closer to release again, your hand coming up to his arm, gripping it.

"You gonna cum on my cock, doll? Cum for me, let me feel you," He mumbles into your neck, his hot breath against your ear as he continues thrusting up into you, his other hand reaching around to rub fierce circles on your clit.

You feel your climax hit as you clench around him, your body trembling in his arms as you cum hard on his cock.

He groans as you clench around him, "Good girl, s'good f'me baby," He continues to thrust into you, "M'gonna fill your pussy up baby doll, gonna make you walk around the rest of the party with my cum drippin' from your sweet pussy."

His thrusts become sloppier as he lets your neck go, bending you back down over the desk, gripping your hips tight.

"Fuck, doll, you look s'good bent over for me. Love your fuckin' ass," he says as he squeezes the skin of your ass before giving it a slap, making you gasp as he continues to sloppily thrust into you.

"Fuck" He groans as he slams into you one more time, filling your cunt up with his seed.

"Goddamn baby doll...that was fuckin' incredible," He mumbles, rubbing your hips gently as he kisses your shoulder blade.

He slowly pulls out of you, reaching down to tug your underwear back up, "You're gonna walk around the rest of the night with soaked panties, all full of me."

He tugs your dress back down before helping you stand, turning you to face him. He reaches out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle in contrast to his previous actions.

You glance out the window, silently hoping that no one just saw what you two had just done.

He sees you glancing out the window and he places his finger under your chin to turn your head to meet his gaze, "You're mine, baby doll. All mine."

A/N: can you believe this is my first smut of my husband (aka soldier boy) what have i even been doing with my life?

tags: @animelucky @mystic-writings @magster196 @soldierboysdoll @caplanbuckybarnes @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @mostlymarvelgirl @chevroletdean @waynes-multiverse @winchesterwild78

"That's My Girl"

Summary: No summary. Pretty much just smut without plot

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Warnings: MDNI 18+. Smut. P in V. Unprotected Sex. Creampie. Biting kink if you squint. Just pure Dean smut. No use of y/n.

A/N: I meant to post this on Valentine's Day...oops Anyways...I really went all out to make this a good smut, I've been reading so much lately so took inspo from a lot of people. Anyways, enjoy :)

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Dean's lips find yours in a heated kiss, his tongue immediately searching for entrance into your mouth. His hand on your thigh tightens its grip, his fingers nearly digging into your flesh as he deepened the kiss.

His other hand comes up to cup the back of your neck, tilting your head back so he can kiss you better. He swallows the gasp that escaped your lips, his body pressing you up against the wall.

You moan his name, his touch sending shivers down your spine. Dean lets out a low rumble at the sound of your moan, his body reacting to the sound. He continues his assault on your neck, covering it with kisses and small nips, his hand still gripping your hip tightly.

"You like that, baby? You like it when I touch you like this?"

He presses his body fully against you, his hardness evident against you, his own breathing ragged as his need for you grows stronger.

You let out a strained whimper, "yes, yes I like it so much."

Dean's grip on you tightens at the sound of your whimper. His mouth finds its way to your ear, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin there as he speaks in a low, gravelly voice.

"I'm gonna make you feel so good...gonna make you forget everything except for me."

He kisses and sucks down your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin leaving little marks. His hands continue to roam across your body, his touch possessive and desperate. He wants to memorize every curve, every contour of your body.

He drags your shirt off over your head and throws it onto the floor, his breath catching in his throat as he sees your bare skin.

He leans forward, pressing the lightest of kisses along your collarbone. His hands roam across your back, his touch both reverent and possessive.

"You're so beautiful." He murmurs against your skin, his lips leaving a trail of fire behind them. His hands continue their exploration of your body, tracing the curves of your waist and the line of your hips.

You hum a little in response to his touch. The little hum spurs him on, wanting to hear more of those sounds from your mouth. He trails kisses down your chest as his fingers move back to your back, undoing the clasp of your bra.

He pulls back just long enough to pull the straps of your bra down, taking in the sight of you.

"Jump" he mumbles slightly, his hands holding your thighs. You jump up wrapping your legs around his waist, and he moves and lays you on the bed. He cages you in with his arms, hovering above you.

He kisses you again, his lips pressing against yours desperately. His hands roam freely now, tracing over every inch of your body. You moan into the kiss and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, wanting to taste every part of you.

He kisses and sucks down your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin leaving little marks. His hands continue to roam across your body, his touch possessive and desperate. He wants to memorize every curve, every contour of your body.

He grinds his hips against you, and you can feel his hardness through his jeans. He's already completely undone, his body begging for you.

"You have too many clothes on," You whisper with a teasing smile. He chuckles against your skin, the vibration sending a shiver through you.

He pulls back just enough to pull his shirt off. He leans back down, hovering above you, his body pressing against yours once more, this time with the barrier of his clothes gone.

"You're mine." He growls against your skin, his teeth scraping over the mark he just left. He needs you to know that you're his, completely and utterly his.

"I'm yours," you moan, your hips arching up into him.

He groans as your hips arch against him, the feeling going straight to his cock. "God goddamn it," he mumbles, his teeth latching onto your shoulder, biting down just hard enough to make you gasp.

He grabs the waistband of your pants and practically rips them off you. He doesn't even wait to take off his jeans, just unzips himself and pushes them down just enough.

He positions himself at your entrance, his eyes locked onto yours. He captures your lips in a fierce kiss as he sinks into you with one long deep stroke, stretching out your walls.

You dig your fingers into his arms as he let's out a low, guttural moan. He grabs your legs, repositioning them on his hips to get a better angle. This new angle causes you to grip onto him tighter, moaning his name.

He keeps up the slow, purposeful pace, his eyes locked on to yours. "Look at me." He whispers, "I want to see your face."

You look at him, looking into his green eyes that are darkened with arousal.

His begins to quicken his pace, every thrust deeper than the last. "D-Don't stop please" you moan, your body arching up with every thrust.

He moans as he hears the sound of your words, his body responding wildly. "You have no idea just how beautiful you look right now." He's completely entranced by you, every move and sound you make driving him wilder.

You feel the coil building within you, desperately wanting to let go and release. He can feel you growing tighter around him, and he knows you're close. He wants you to come, wants to feel you come undone in his arms.

He moves faster, the feeling of you pushing him closer to the edge too. "Come for me." He whispers into your ear, his voice low and rough. "I want to feel you."

He changes the angle of his strokes, hitting that spot deep inside that sends you over the edge. The coil within you snap as you tremble beneath him, your fingers digging into his arms as you come undone beneath him, moaning his name.

"That's my girl," he whispers. Your moans and the sound of his name on your lips are enough to send him over the edge.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his body shuddering as he comes inside you, a guttural groan escaping his lips. He holds you close, not wanting to let go, wanting to stay like this forever.

For a moment, the only sound that can be heard is the sound of your ragged breathing and the rapid beating of your hearts. He eventually rolls off of you, pulling you close to him and wrapping his arms around you.

He's silent for a moment, just holding you, trying to catch his breath. He finally speaks, his voice low and ragged.

"That was...goddamn."

You chuckle a little, still managing to calm your breathing. "Yeah...it was."

He smiles, a soft, sweet smile that completely contradicts the intensity of what just happened. He runs his fingers through your hair, his touch gentle and tender as you both lay there, enjoying the feeling of being in wrapped up in each other's arms.

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A/N: I'm so bad at keeping up with writing, this is why I read more than I write LMAO

Meet and Greet, and Meet Again

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x F!Reader

Summary: You meet Jensen at your first ever meet and greet. He wants to meet again after...

Warnings: MDNI 18+. Fluff. Smut. Oral (F Receiving). Fingering. Some Overstimulation. Unprotected P in V. No use of y/n.

A/N: Wrote this for one of my amazing friends @winchesterwild78 🫶🏼 Love you! Hope you like it!

Masterlist — Taglist

It’s your first meet and greet ever. You never expected to win the bid, but here you are, ready to meet Jensen Ackles. You take your seat and sit patiently while the other winners file in.

When the meet and greet begins and he walks into the room, it feels like your world stops spinning.

Then he looks at you—and smiles. You manage a nervous smile back. When he asks your name, you tell him.

After the meet and greet, the room begins to clear out. As you’re about to leave with the group, you hear a deep voice call your name. Your head snaps around, and there he is: Jensen, wearing his trademark smirk.

“You busy after the convention ends?” he asks.

“I—um—what?” You chuckle nervously.

He laughs softly at your reaction. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Just wondering what you’re doing tonight. I’d love to actually chat, get to know you. If not, that’s fine too—just shootin’ my shot.”

Jensen Ackles is shooting his shot with you? This has to be a dream, you think.

“No, I’m not busy.”

“Great.” He smiles. “Meet me tonight after the convention—room 326.”

You nod. “I’ll be there.”

He smiles again. “Perfect. See you then, sweetheart.” He winks and walks out.

Holy shit. Did that just happen? How the hell are you supposed to get through the rest of the day now?

The rest of the day is a blur of photo ops and autograph sessions. Every time you see him during a photo op, his eyes linger on you, his hand stays on you a moment longer, his smile grows wider.

When it’s your turn for his autograph, he signs your book and gives you a wink as you walk away. “See you around,” he says.

As the convention winds down, it’s about 7:30 p.m. People begin to say their goodbyes, the vendor room is cleaned out, and staff start sweeping and mopping.

You don’t want to seem too eager, so you wait a bit before heading up to room 326.

Your hand shakes slightly as you step into the hotel elevator. You press the button for floor three and take a deep breath as the elevator climbs: 1…2…3. Ding.

The doors open. You see the signs: rooms 300–320 to the right, 321–341 to the left.

You turn left, heart hammering, until you find room 326. You hesitate, then lift your shaky hand and knock.

You hear shuffling inside before the door opens—and there he is.

“You came,” he says with a smile.

“I did.”

“Come on in.” He opens the door wider. You step inside, and he closes the door behind you.

You look around, fidgeting with your fingers, unsure what to say. He notices.

“I didn’t mean to make anything weird,” he says gently. “I just really liked talking to you.”

“No, it’s okay. I just…” You pause. “…wasn’t expecting this.”

He chuckles softly. “Me neither. Honestly, I didn’t think you’d show up. But I’m really glad you did.”

“Me too.”

He invites you to sit with him on the loveseat, so you do. You both angle slightly toward each other, and talk for what feels like forever—about life, your likes, dislikes, favorite foods, favorite drinks.

His arm rests casually along the back of the loveseat, just behind you. The conversation flows easily, even though it’s only been about 30 minutes.

“I really like you,” he says quietly. “Sorry if that’s too forward, but I haven’t connected with someone this fast in a long time.”

“I really like you too,” you reply, “and not just because you’re Jensen Ackles, but because you’re…you. You’re kind, sweet, funny. Getting to know you is amazing.”

“Oh, stop, you’re gonna make me blush,” he chuckles, a pink flush already creeping up his cheeks.

“It’s true!” you laugh. “I really like you.”

He smiles, and as your eyes meet, the world seems to pause.

“Can I…kiss you?” he asks softly.

You nod, and his hand moves from the back of the loveseat to cup your cheek. He leans in and presses his soft lips to yours. The kiss is gentle and sweet, your hand resting on his arm until you both pull back, foreheads still touching.

“That was…” you whisper, but he finishes for you.

“Incredible.”

“Yeah. It was.”

He stares into your eyes a beat longer before his gaze drops to your lips. He leans in for another kiss, this one deeper and more heated.

His hand slides to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. His other hand grips your hip, tugging you toward him. You shift, moving onto his lap, straddling him without breaking the kiss. His hands grip your thighs, squeezing gently.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he murmurs against your lips, “if we keep going, I’m not gonna be able to stop.”

“So don’t stop,” you breathe.

He crashes his lips back to yours, the kiss urgent, teeth clashing, tongues tangling.

His hands hold your hips tightly as you grind into him. He groans, hands sliding under your shirt. He pulls back just long enough to lift your shirt over your head and toss it aside.

Your mouths meet again in a hungry, messy kiss. His hands roam over your hips before gripping under your ass, lifting you easily and carrying you to the bed. He lays you down gently, sits up, and tugs off his shirt before leaning down again. His lips trail from your jaw to your neck, biting and sucking as he goes.

“Jensen—” you gasp, breathless.

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he says low and rough.

“You. I want you.”

“Good.”

He kisses you deeply, unbuttoning your jeans and tugging them down your legs. His hand brushes over the soaked fabric of your underwear. “Shit, sweetheart, you’re already this wet for me?”

“All for you, Jensen,” you whimper as he pulls your underwear down, nudging your legs wider.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he growls.

He leans in, pressing soft kisses along your inner thighs before reaching your dripping core. He licks a slow stripe up your folds, moaning into you. “Shit, sweetheart, you taste so fucking good.”

He dives in again, his tongue pushing into your pussy as his nose brushes your clit. Your hands clutch his hair as you moan his name, back arching—but his strong arms pin you in place.

He moves up to your clit, sucking and flicking it with his tongue as he slides two fingers inside you, curling them to find that perfect spot.

“Jensen, fuck—” you moan, tugging his hair tighter. “Don’t stop.”

He doesn’t. He adds a third finger, thrusting deeper, until the pleasure builds too high. Your thighs clamp around his head as you cum hard on his mouth and fingers.

Your orgasm rips through you like a shockwave, your body trembling under Jensen’s unrelenting touch. He keeps working you through it, his tongue flicking over your clit as your walls pulse around his fingers. Only when your thighs start to twitch from oversensitivity does he slow down, finally pulling back with a satisfied smirk. His lips glisten with your slick as he kisses the inside of your thigh one last time before crawling up your body.

“God, you’re gorgeous when you cum,” he growls lowly, kissing you hard, you taste yourself on his tongue.

You whimper into the kiss, your hands moving greedily over his chest, feeling the defined muscles under your palms. He rolls his hips down against you, and you can feel just how hard he is through his jeans. You reach between you, fumbling with his belt, the desperation in your touch making him groan into your mouth.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re killing me,” he mutters, pulling back just enough to yank his belt open and shove his jeans and boxers down his thighs. His thick cock springs free, already leaking at the tip.

You swallow hard, eyes locked on him. He strokes himself once, twice, his eyes dark as he watches your face. Then he lines himself up with your entrance, pausing to look into your eyes.

“You sure?” he rasps, voice tight with need.

“So sure,” you breathe, wrapping your legs around his hips to pull him closer.

With a low groan, he pushes in, inch by inch, stretching you open until he’s fully seated inside you. The feeling is overwhelming — you’re so full, so stretched, and the look on his face as he bottoms out has your walls clenching around him.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he curses, his forehead dropping to yours as he holds still, letting you both adjust.

“Move, Jensen,” you whisper, nails digging into his shoulders, “please.”

That’s all it takes. He starts to thrust, slow at first, each movement deep and deliberate. But soon, the pace picks up, his hips slamming into yours as the room fills with the sounds of skin on skin and breathless moans. He buries his face in your neck, biting gently as he pounds into you.

“God, you feel amazing,” he groans, one hand grabbing your thigh to hook your leg higher around his waist, changing the angle. His cock hits even deeper, dragging against that sensitive spot inside you.

“Jensen—fuck—I’m gonna—” you cry out, your body tensing as the coil in your belly winds tighter and tighter.

“Cum for me again, sweetheart,” he demands, voice rough and desperate. His thumb finds your clit, circling it just right, and it’s enough to send you spiraling.

You cum hard, clenching around him as stars explode behind your eyelids. Your orgasm pulls him right along with you; with a hoarse moan of your name, he thrusts a few more times before he stills, pulsing deep inside you as he cums inside of you.

You’re both panting, sweat-slicked bodies pressed together as he collapses gently on top of you, careful not to crush you. He nuzzles your neck, planting soft kisses on your jaw as you both catch your breath.

When he finally pulls back to look at you, his smile is soft, almost shy. “That was… incredible.”

You laugh breathlessly, cupping his face. “Yeah. It really was.”

He kisses you again, slow and tender this time, his hand stroking your hair. “Stay with me tonight?”

You nod, smiling up at him. “I’d like that.”

He grins, pulling you close as he rolls to the side, keeping you wrapped up in his arms. “Good. Because I don’t think I’m ready to let you go just yet.”

A/N: Daddy? Sorry. Daddy?

Let Me Hold Ya

Pairing: Soldier Boy x F!Reader

Summary: Ben's not good with feelings, but for you, he'd do just about anything.

Warnings: MDNI 18+. Fluff. Mental health mentions. Feeling sad. Depression. Mentions of sex. Soldier Boy (he's a warning). Ben's a little ooc obviously. No use of y/n.

A/N: Been feeling rough a lot lately so started to write this up a little bit ago, had the idea in my head for a while.

Masterlist — Taglist

The front door burst open with a bang as Ben walked in. He’d been gone on a mission for a week. Usually, when he came home from his long missions, you were all over each other, wrecking each other on every surface of your shared apartment.

But today, you were curled up under a blanket on the couch, the TV playing mostly as background noise—because the noise in your head was so much louder.

“Fuck, baby, been missin’ your pussy all fuckin’ week,” he groaned as he walked into the living room, coming up behind the couch and bending down to kiss your neck. Usually, you’d want this. But you didn’t even react.

He pulled back slightly, moving around to stand in front of the couch. “Fuck’s wrong with you?” he asked, lowering himself to his knees in front of you.

“I just… not tonight, Ben. Please,” you whispered.

“What? You sick or somethin’?” he asked. “’Cause trust me, baby, I can fuck a sickness right outta ya.”

You wanted to laugh. To chuckle. But you couldn’t. “No, I just… haven’t been… okay. Mentally.”

“Fuck, doll,” he sighed. “You know I’m shit at… feelings.” He sat next to you on the couch. “What… what’s goin’ on? You gotta talk to me. I ain’t a fuckin’ mind reader.”

“I just… feel disgusting. I hate how I look. I hate how much of a failure I am. I feel fucking worthless.”

“Doll, you’re none of those fuckin’ things, ya hear me? None. You’re fuckin’ beautiful. You’re not a failure. You’re not worthless. Don’t ever fuckin’ believe that, ’cause I sure as fuck don’t.”

“I wish my brain believed that.”

“Listen to me. You’re fuckin’ everything to me. That’s gotta matter somewhere in your brain,” he said, voice low and earnest. “I can’t fuckin’ lose you, okay? I can’t.”

“I know,” you said softly.

“Good.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Fuck. I wanted to come home and fuck the shit outta ya—I missed that perfect fuckin’ body of yours,” he admitted. “But… if you say no, I’m not pushin’ ya. I’d never fuckin’ do that.”

“I’m sorry, Ben. I know we usually—” you started, but he cut you off.

“Don’t be sorry, doll. It’s not your fault, alright?”

“Feels like it is,” you murmured, staring down at your lap.

He gently slipped his hand under your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his. “Don’t. It’s not your fault, alright? Now just… let me hold ya. And maybe when you’re feelin’ a little better, I’ll fuck all those dark thoughts outta that pretty head of yours.”

That earned a soft chuckle from you.

“There’s my girl,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your head and wrapping his arms around you as you rested against his chest.

“Shut up,” you mumbled into his chest, feeling him pull the blanket around both of you.

“I love you, doll. Don’t ever fuckin’ forget it,” he whispered, pressing a long, tender kiss to your forehead.

“I know,” you whispered back. “I love you too.”

The two of you lay snuggled on the couch, the TV still playing in the background as he gently rubbed your back.

He may not understand feelings like this very well, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to try for you.

A/N: I love Soldier Boy so much. My favorite fuckin Jensen character (but Mark Meachum is growing on me)