Tumgik
Oh my god thank you so much wtfff!!! 🥹🤧 Genuinely teared up ngl, you are so sweet!!!!
As of right now, it’s just gonna be a one shot but maybe I’ll make a sequel in the (far) future 🤷‍♀️
You honestly made my day week, so thank you so fucking much omgggg 😭💞💞💞💞
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Trust
main masterlist | the boys masterlist
summary: soldier boy doesn’t realize just how scared of him you truly are
pairing: soldier boy x female reader
rating: R for language, mature themes
word count: 5.2k
warnings: please read! language, mentions of sexual assault, attempted sexual assault, drugging, violence, forced purging (to prevent possible death), briefly mentioned nudity (not in a smutty way), much darker than anything i’ve published before
author’s note: this started out as a small idea but i got really carried away lol.
another note: sorry for kinda ghosting after uploading the last fic, my brain hates me 🙃 i can’t promise i won’t “disappear” again like immediately after uploading this so thank you in advance for any/all feedback/comments 💞💞
Tumblr media Tumblr media
It was late at night (more like early morning) when you were arguing with Butcher at the door. 
“Don’t you dare leave me here alone with him!” you seethed.
“C’mon, love, the old cunt’s gonna be asleep the whole time I’m gone.”
Your teeth clenched at the idea of being alone in the house with Soldier Boy, but if Billy didn’t go now to “run an errand” he’d probably have to go later that day anyway.
“Fine,” you sighed. “But if ‘the old cunt’ lays a fucking finger on me I swear to god Butcher!”
“I’ll be back by nine.”
**
A loud knock on your door woke you up.
“Hey! Sweetheart!” Soldier Boy’s voice shouted from the other side. “You up?”
“I am now,” you mumbled to yourself angrily. 7:26 your clock read.
“I heard that,” Soldier Boy said. 
Shit, you thought. “What do you want?” 
“The stupid TV isn’t fuckin’ working, I need you to come and work your magic for me.”
You sighed. You couldn’t ignore him at this point, that’d most likely just anger him further. If he wanted to he’d just break down the door and drag you out to the living room.
“C’mon toots, don’t be a bitch about it,” he exclaimed.
“Screw you,” you mumbled.
“Hey!” Soldier Boy exclaimed. “What’d I just fuckin’ say!” He tried opening the door but you’d obviously locked it. 
“I-I’ll be out in a second,” you told him. 
“That’s more like it,” he mumbled back.
You quickly got out of bed (whole outfit still on, just in case Soldier Boy had tried something in the night) and hurried to the door before you opened it. There he stood, the strongest man alive. You gulped nervously as he didn’t move and stayed blocking your way out. 
He eyed you up and down obnoxiously, smirking at the sight and making your heart beat faster.
“Same outfit as last night, I see,” he said. 
“S-So?” you asked, trying to mask the pure fear this man instilled in you. “I just like these clothes, is all.” He didn’t say anything, just kept smirking at you. “You’re wearing the same clothes as yesterday, too, you know!”
“So you have been checking me out.” He nodded a little, the smirk still on his face.
“Did you want me to help you with the TV or did you just wake me up to be a dick?”
“TV,” he grumbled, “but would it kill you to be polite once in a while?”
“Would it kill you to move out of the way so I can head downstairs?”
He furrowed his brows before he rolled his eyes and stepped to the side; “After you, princess,” he mocked. You left your bedroom and he followed you downstairs to where the perfectly functioning TV hung on the wall.
You hated the way Soldier Boy eyed you as you took the remote out from the cabinet beside the TV and turned it on.
“It seems to be working fine?” you said, wanting to take his attention off of your ass. “What were you trying to watch?”
“Uh…how bout you pick something for us?” he offered.
“Excuse me?” you practically scoffed.
“C’mon, sit down and watch with me,” he said. You turned around, expecting to see him sitting on the couch, but he was now standing about a yard away from you. “Butcher seems to be gone…” He took a step towards you. “We’ve got the whole house to ourselves…” Another step. “Why don’t we have some fun?” He reached out and lightly touched your cheek, traced down the side of your face, and tilted your chin up to look him in the eyes.
“Soldier Boy—”
“I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me,” he interrupted you. “I know your heart starts racing when I walk into a room, I know it beats even faster when I get close. I know you want me, don’t even try to fuckin’ deny it.”
“P-Please—”
“Oh, I like a woman who knows when to beg,” he chuckled lowly as he bent down to kiss you.
“Please don’t hurt me, please,” you said quickly, tears stinging your eyes as they threatened to fall. “I-I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch to you, I-I didn’t mean it! Please don’t kill me!”
“Kill you?” He stood up straight, pulling his hand up off your face and putting it up in defense. “Kill you?” There was a moment of silence as he intensely looked at your reaction to him getting so close. “You…You’re scared of me, aren’t you?”
You nodded slightly, worried you might upset him as his face fell. He seemed almost saddened by the fact you didn’t want him near you.
“But…I’m a hero,” he scoffed slightly. “Why would you be scared of me?”
“Please don’t take it personally,” you said. “Just let me set up the TV for you and go back to my room…please?”
“You’re fuckin’ terrified right now, aren’t you?” he asked and again you nodded, again he scoffed.
“Can you blame me?” you asked. “I-If I rub you the wrong way you could snap my neck like a chicken bone without breaking a sweat.”
“But I…” He continued looking at you with confusion that seemed to be laced with curiosity. “I wouldn’t. I mean, I know I get angry sometimes but I’d never hurt you?”
“You wouldn’t be the first hero to turn on me,” you told him quietly. Soldier Boy paused and thought about what to do next. He’d never been in a situation like this before; standing alone with someone who was genuinely scared of him, someone that didn’t trust a hero like himself.
“Just uh… Just turn on a movie and you can go,” he said before he took a seat on the couch. “Another one from my time, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure,” you said; a small, forced smile on your lips. You found a movie you thought he’d like and pressed play for him before tossing the remote on the couch and leaving.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he called out, making you stop in your tracks. “I’m sorry you don’t trust me, but I need you to know that I’d never hurt you.”
“O-Okay, Soldier Boy,” you said before you hurried out of the room, up the stairs, and back into your room. “Billy Butcher I am going to fucking strangle you,” you mumbled to yourself.
**
“You’re up before noon,” Butcher remarked, seeing Soldier Boy in the living room. “And you got the TV workin’ on your own! Atta boy, gov’.”
“Actually, Y/n set it up for me,” Soldier Boy said.
Butcher sighed at that, “So, you’ve talked to her today then, huh?”
“Yeah, why?” the Supe asked before Butcher left to see you. 
He knocked lightly on your door before you opened it. 
“Hello—” Butcher started but a swift slap to the face shut him up pretty quickly.
“Fuck you, Butcher!”
“Did he hurt you?” Butcher asked, holding his cheek.
“No, but he almost fucking did, asshole! How dare you leave me alone with him like that!”
“Oh come off it! If you’re still in one piece then all’s well that ends well, am I right?” he said with a smirk and a shrug. 
“You ever do something like that again and I swear to god William!” You stared daggers at him.
“My ‘errand’ didn’t go as planned anyways, love,” he told you. “I’ve gotta figure out another way to find where they’re hiding Homelander.”
“Or whatever’s left of him,” you mumbled.
**
“Alright, I’m off,” Butcher announced, a full duffle bag in his hand as he headed to the door.
“What?” you exclaimed from the kitchen as you hurried to get between him and his destination. “What’re you talking about?”
“Everything okay?” Soldier Boy asked from the couch near the TV.
“Everything’s fine, gov’, you keep watching your movie,” Butcher said.
“Can I talk to you outside for a minute?” you asked Butcher, you didn’t want Soldier Boy to hear what you were about to say. 
“After you then, love,” Butcher obliged.
The second the door closed behind the two of you, you let him have it.
“Don’t you fucking dare leave me here alone with him again, I cannot fucking take it!”
“It’ll only be for a little while, you’ll be fine!” Butcher said.
“Then let me come with you!”
“What, and leave the cunt here alone? He’ll burn the house down trying to make himself a fuckin’ sandwich,” Butcher exclaimed. “He needs a fuckin’ babysitter and that’s you.”
“Why me? Why can’t you call Hughie? Or Frenchie? Or, better than all of us combined, Kimiko?” you asked.
“Hughie’s outta state, Frenchie and Kimiko are both knee-deep in shit sussing out another lead on Homelander’s whereabouts.”
You sighed heavily, you saw his point but the thought of being trapped again made your stomach hurt; “Please don’t leave me alone with him, Butcher. You know how much he fucking terrifies me, and you know exactly why.”
“I’m sorry I gotta do this to you, love, but you know he’s our only shot at killin’ Homelander once and fucking for all.”
“How long will you be gone?”
“Only a day or two.”
You again conceded, against your better judgment, and let Butcher leave you with Soldier Boy.
“What was that all about?” the Supe asked when you walked back into the house and locked the door. 
You forced a smile; “Nothing, Soldier Boy,” you said, “dinner will be ready soon.”
You didn’t know Soldier Boy heard everything you and Butcher had said.
**
“Looks great, toots.” Soldier Boy walked up behind you in the kitchen, not missing the flinch you threw when he got a little too close. 
“Thanks,” you mumbled. 
“You still that scared of me?” he asked, leaning on the counter and trying to get you to look up at him.
“If you can hear my heart, I’m sure you’ve got something that can smell my fear too.”
“I know I make your heart race, your breathing becomes slightly quicker when I get close, and I’ve noticed your pupils tend to change when you notice I’m next to you.”
“So why is my fear such a fuckin’ surprise, then?” you scoffed.
“I guess I didn’t realize it was fear making your heart race and your pupils dilate slightly.”
“What, you thought I was into you or something?” you asked half-heartedly before you looked over at him and realized that was exactly what he had thought. “Oh.”
“So, yeah, I was surprised when I realized you didn’t like havin’ me around,” he admitted. You almost felt guilty for a moment but it quickly disappeared as you remembered why you were scared of him in the first place. “Can you at least tell me why, though?” he asked as you shoveled his food onto a plate. “Why are you so scared of me? I get that I’m stronger than you but, no offense, isn’t Butcher too? Isn’t like… almost every man out there?”
“One, I trust Butcher. I’ve known him for years and he’s been nothing but good; he’s an asshole, sure, but he’s good when it counts. And two, I don’t spend time alone with ‘almost every man out there’ so that does not help your case at all.” You handed him the plate. “Here’s your food.”
“Thanks, dollface.” He took it from you and you started getting your own plate ready. He watched your every move and his brows knitted with confusion as he did so. 
“You can go sit down,” you told him. “You don’t need to watch me like a hawk.”
“I’m sorry, I’m just still tryin’ to figure you out I guess.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you scoffed.
“You know I’m a hero, right? I’m a superhero, and I would never hurt you?”
“Look, no offense, but the last time I trusted a Supe it really didn’t turn out well and I’m not gonna let myself give you even an inch of trust because you are even stronger than the last guy.”
“What happened? What’d he do?” Soldier Boy asked and you didn’t respond. “C’mon, you owe me that much! I’ve been nothing but good to you, yet you’re treating me like I did whatever this other Supe did to you!”
“I don’t owe you shit, Soldier Boy,” you snapped and you could’ve sworn you saw genuine hurt flash over his features. “If you must know, it was The Deep. I trusted him, let him be good to me, and it all blew up in my face in the most awful way I could’ve imagined.”
“I’m sorry, honey.” He reached out to touch your shoulder but you flinched away from him.
“Please, don’t touch me. I get that you’re trying to be sweet or whatever but please don’t. It’s not doing what you think it’s doing, Soldier Boy.”
He nodded and backed away slightly.
“My name’s Ben,” he told you. You looked at him with a sense of shock. “My real name’s Ben, you don’t have to say ‘Soldier Boy’ all the time, you can just say ‘Ben’.”
“Okay, Ben, while we’re on the topic of names, you could ease up on the ‘toot’s and ‘doll’s and ‘dollface’s and ‘honey’s and ‘sweetheart’s you know. Or at the very least stick to one pet name.”
He smiled at your honesty, hoping it was a sign you might be scared of him just a tad less.
“Think I’ll just stick to callin’ you sweetheart, then,” he replied.
“Thank god, I was really starting to hate dolls.”
That made him laugh deeply before he walked to the table and took his seat.
Don’t you fucking dare, you thought to yourself when you felt a feeling of almost-not-absolute-fear-and-disgust wash over you for a split second. 
**
“Look, I’m sorry, but—”
“You’re sorry?” you scoffed into the phone. “Butcher get the fucking hell back here!”
“I can’t, I’ve gotta spend another night over here. Apparently—”
“I don’t give a rat's ass why you have to stay, I am begging you to please get back here now!” Tears were stinging your eyes as your voice cracked.
“I’m sorry—”
“If he does anything to me, anything at all, I’ll never fucking forgive you for leaving me alone with him, Butcher. You understand me, William? Never!”
“He’s not gonna hurt you,” Butcher sighed. “Just keep your distance and be nice to him. He does have a bit of a temper, maybe he just needs to relieve some tension…”
“That’s not funny!” You gritted your teeth as a few tears slipped down your cheeks. “When are you getting back here?”
“A few more days,” he replied. 
Before he said another word you hung up on him, furious that he thought it was okay to leave you alone with Soldier Boy.
Though the Supe was in his own room upstairs, he still heard every word you said. He’d never admit it, but his heart clenched at the thought of how scared you were right now. 
**
It had been over a week since you’d seen him when Butcher finally got back with some new information on Homelander’s location. He had a plan to find the exact coordinates and he wasn’t going to let his morals get in the way.
“Well, well, you clean up nice,” Butcher commented when you stepped out of the bathroom.
“Shut up,” you grumbled. You were wearing a short royal blue dress with a deep v-neckline and almost no back, the silver heels and necklace tied the otherwise seemingly plain outfit together nicely. “If this stupid plan of yours gets me killed I’m gonna come back and haunt you for the rest of your fuckin’ life.”
“Wow,” Ben beamed when he walked out of his room and saw you standing in the hall with Butcher. “You look incredible, sweetheart.”
“I look like a damn hooker,” you said. 
“That’s the idea, love.” Butcher smirked.
**
A high-ranking Vought employee had been seen at a certain bar almost every night for the last two months and it was now your job to get him to trust you. If he trusted you enough, he would take you back to his place and you could find out any and all information he had on Homelander. 
The plan seemed simple enough, yet Ben seemed more anxious about the situation than you were. 
“Are you sure this is safe?” Soldier Boy asked when you were all seated in the van outside the bar.
“No, but if this helps us get Homelander then it’s safe enough,” you told him. 
“Besides, you’ll be in there with her,” Butcher reminded him. “And if you stay focused on keeping her safe, then I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
“How ‘bout we come up with a code word or something?” Ben suggested as he put in the earpiece Butcher handed him. 
“How about ‘Soldier Boy’?” you said, Ben shook his head.
“And what happens if you need to say ‘Soldier Boy’ but you don’t need help?” he countered.
“How about…Ben?” You smiled a little when he nodded.
“I’ll be listening closely to the whole conversation, if you say ‘Ben’ I’ll come and get you outta there.”
“Sounds good.” 
“Alright,” Butcher interrupted, “Soldier Boy keep me updated and if all goes well, Y/n, we won’t be seeing you again til later tonight.” He winked obnoxiously.
“If this guy genuinely tries to sleep with me I’ll break his fuckin’ nose,” you said flatly. “Info or no info, I ain’t letting him see me naked.”
**
Ben had gone in about a minute before you did and found a nice spot near where he knew you’d be sitting with the target. The second you walked in his eyes were glued. He stayed true to his word and listened to every word you and the target said.
“This seat taken, handsome?” you asked the man who then smirked at you. 
“It is now,” he said. “And what’s your name, gorgeous?”
“Goldie,” you lied as you took your seat. “What’s yours?”
“Steven. Let me buy you a drink?” he offered and called the bartender over when you nodded. 
“Vodka martini,” you ordered. “So Steven, what do you do for work?”
“I work for Vought,” he said and you faked an impressed look. 
“No way!” you gasped. “Oh my god, do you know The Seven?”
“I do,” he said with a nod, clearly full of himself. 
“That is so cool,” you continued stroking his ego. You nodded in thanks when the bartender handed you your drink and you took a sip. “I’ve never met someone so important!”
“You wanna know a secret?” he asked, you nodded enthusiastically. He leaned over so he could whisper into your ear; “I’m actually in The Deep’s close, personal circle.”
Your eyes went wide for a split second before you got a hold of yourself and whispered back; “Really?”
“Uh-huh,” he said. “I could introduce you if you’d like.” You pulled away from him slightly but still tried your best to keep yourself calm.
“Oh, that’s alright,” you shook your head, “I’m sure he’s too busy for little old me.”
“I’m never too busy.” The voice behind you made your whole body tense up and Ben could tell you were in trouble. You hadn’t said the code word though and he knew both you and Butcher would be mad if he screwed up the mission.
“Butcher,” Ben said into the intercom attached to his jacket, “Deep’s here.”
Butcher paused for a moment before he answered; “Don’t freak out. Y/n can handle herself and unless she says ‘Ben’ you don’t make a move, you understand Soldier Boy?”
“Understood,” he replied.
“You know,” The Deep said, still standing behind you, “I’ve had my eye on you since you walked in here, gorgeous.”
“Y-You have?” you asked, wondering if he recognized you or if your face just blurred together with all the other women he had assaulted. You took another sip of the drink in your hand and continued to keep a close eye on it to make sure it didn’t get spiked.
“I have,” he replied. “Now, why don’t you let my friend Steven here show you a nice time, then take you back to my place at Vought Tower?”
“S-Sounds good,” you trembled. “I-I’ll see you later tonight then, Deep.” You took another, smaller sip.
“Wonderful,” he said before he bent down and placed a kiss on your cheek. “Can’t wait to see this dress on my floor.” With that, he walked away and you let out a sigh of relief.
“Fish fucker’s left the building,” Ben told Butcher. “You gonna tail him or are we still focusing on Steven?”
“Stay focused on Steven, we can kill fish fucker another day,” Butcher said.
“So, you want another drink?” Steven asked you. “Or would you rather head over to the tower?”
“You know, I’d rather spend the night at your place, Steven.” You faked a sweet smile. 
“Really?” He raised a brow as a smirk returned to his face. “So, another drink, then?”
“How about I just let you take me home?” The moment you stood up you knew something was wrong. You instantly felt dizzy and sat back down. “Ben, help,” you whispered when you realized exactly what was happening. 
“Looks like we’re heading to the tower, Goldie,” Steven said. “Thanks as always, Pat.” He handed a couple hundreds to the bartender.
Ben came up behind Steven and pinned him against the bar with one hand, his other hand resting on the bar itself a few inches from where you were now slouched over.
“What the hell did you do to her, fuckface?” Ben seethed.
“I didn’t do anything! What’s your problem?” Steven yelled, drawing attention to the scene unfolding.
Ben took the back of the man’s head and brought it up half a foot before he slammed it back down onto the wood. 
“Tell me what you fuckin’ did or I’ll squish you like a bug,” Ben yelled as he applied more and more pressure to Steven’s head.
“Roofie!” Steven yelled. “Ask the bartender!”
“Ben don’t kill him,” Butcher told him through the earpiece. 
“He deserves to fuckin’ die, Butcher,” Ben replied.
“Yes he does but he still has information that we need. If you’ve gotta kill someone, kill the bartender who spiked the fuckin’ drink!”
Ben looked up from gravely injured Steven and saw the bartender cowering in the corner.
“Ben,” you whispered and reached out to touch the hand he still had on the counter. “Ben get me outta here.” His angered expression slowly faded as he looked down into your hooded eyes. “Please?”
“Yeah, I’ve got you,” Soldier Boy said before he quickly scooped you up in his arms and carefully kept your head resting on his shoulder. “Hey, barkeep,” he shouted and the man looked over at him. “Mark my words; no matter where you go or what you do I will find you and tear you limb from fucking limb for hurting her. Your days are fucking numbered.”
Ben hurried you out to the truck and sat you down on the seat next to his so you could lean on him if you wanted, or alternatively, you could lean against the window if you still didn’t want him touching you.
“Stay with her, I’m gonna go figure out how much they gave her and if we need to take her to the hospital,” Butcher told Soldier Boy before leaving.
“Ben,” you slurred, still barely able to open your eyes, “Ben what—what’d you do to me?”
“God fuckin’ damn it, Butcher,” he mumbled under his breath. He blamed Billy entirely for the operation going sideways and for you ending up in danger. “Fuck, you need to purge, sweetheart.” He positioned you so your head was hanging out the side door and stuck his fingers down your throat, ignoring your angered hits to his arms. “This is for your own good, stop fighting me.”
You hurled out the side door, Ben held onto you tightly and made sure you didn’t fall out or get hurt. 
“Please just let me go,” you whispered when he took his fingers out, satisfied with the amount of possibly deadly alcohol you were able to get out of your system.
“I know you’re scared right now, but I can’t let you go,” he told you. “I’m sorry.”
Butcher got back to the car pretty quickly, a worried expression on his face.
“How much did they give her?” Ben asked.
“Too fuckin’ much,” Butcher replied. “We’ve gotta make her puke it all up or she might not make it.”
**
You woke up on the couch to the sound of Butcher and Ben arguing in the kitchen, a splitting headache quickly made itself known when you opened your eyes fully.
“This is your fault, Butcher,” Soldier Boy yelled, “you and your stupid obsession to find Homelander. How dare you put her life at risk like that!”
“Hey I had the strongest man alive in there backing her up, so how the hell did you screw up so badly?”
There was a pause as you kept listing, a part of you was scared you’d start to hear punches being thrown.
Ben shook his head as he looked at his ‘boss’; “You’re a fuckin’ asshole, you know that? She’s been scared outta her fuckin’ mind and yet you just keep on pushin’ her and pushin’ her. And for what? To kill a Supe that’s probably dead already? You know Homelander ain’t a threat since I fuckin’ burned him, yet you still put someone you say you care about in danger.”
“‘Scared outta her fuckin’ mind’?” Butcher scoffed. “What’re you on about?”
“I know she’s terrified of me,” Ben admitted. “I know that you know she is, too. And yet you keep leaving her alone with me, why? Just to make her life worse? To make her feel less safe than she already does?”
“You sayin’ she’s got a reason to be scared of you, then?” Butcher asked. “Thought you were supposed to be some kinda hero?”
“Of course I’d never hurt her! But I’m still a Supe and I know you hate Supe’s. There’s no way in hell you trust me at all or you wouldn’t have her babysitting me every time you leave the fuckin’ house. What I don’t get is why you’re so comfortable leaving her here with the strongest man in the world when you think I’m a fucking monster.” Ben walked over to the fridge and took a bottled water out before he grabbed a cup and left the kitchen.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he said quietly as he entered the living room. “I know you’re up, do you want some water?”
“What happened?” you asked as he squatted on the floor in front of the couch and made eye contact with you.  
“We can fill you in later, you should probably drink,” he said and held out the two items in his hands. “Would you rather the bottle or a cup?”
“Bottle’s fine,” you replied and you slowly sat up, putting a hand to your head before you took the water from him.
“You need some Aspirin or something?” he asked. 
“I’m sure Butcher ‘ll bring me some,” you said, making Ben’s brows furrow a little before he nodded with realization.
“You still don’t trust me much, do you?”
“Sorry,” you mumbled before beginning to drink the water. “What am I wearing, by the way?” you asked and gestured to the dirty, large black tee you had on over the blue dress.
“Oh, uh,” he scratched the back of his neck nervously, “it was on the car floor, I think it’s Butcher’s. I put it on you when uh, when you were kinda out of it and… your boob might’ve kinda… popped outta your dress.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” he mumbled. “I didn't… like I didn’t look or anything, I just saw the shirt and immediately put it over you.”
“Sure.” You nodded before you continued downing the bottled water.
“I’ll go get Butcher to bring you some painkillers,” Ben said before leaving the room.
**
You’d just gotten out of the shower and put on a new set of clean clothes when Butcher stopped you in the hall.
“How’s your head?” he asked.
“Better,” you replied flatly, still pretty frustrated with him.
“I’m sorry I was such an idiot,” he sighed, “I shoulda told Soldier Boy to get you hell outta there the second the fish fucker showed his ugly mug.”
“We needed intel on Homelander,” you reminded him. “My safety was just the price we had to pay.”
“And that was a fucked up currency for me to gamble with,” he said. “I’m sorry I’ve been so obsessed and I’m sorry for leaving you alone with Soldier Boy so much the past couple of weeks.”
You shrugged a little; “It’s no big deal.”
“I want you to know I’m done tryin’ to find Homelander.”
“Seriously?” Your eyes went wide and you furrowed your brows. 
“The cunt’s most likely down for the count anyway thanks to granny fucker downstairs and there are other Supes that are much bigger threats right now anyway. Like The Deep, for example, and the number of people he’s paying to help him get away with assaults like last night. I’ve been talking with Hughie and as it turns out, he’s already had his eye on a handful of other bartenders workin’ for fish dick.”
“So…what? You’re saying you’re gonna go back to your old job at Supe affairs and start hunting down these assholes in a more mentally-healthy way?” you asked.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
**
When you entered the living room you noticed Ben readjusting his position on the couch, as if to try and make himself appear less threatening.
“Hey,” you said quietly, a small smile on your lips as you sat down about two feet from him on the same couch.
“Hey,” he replied. “How’re you feeling?”
“Better.” You nodded. “You need help with the TV?” you asked, picking up the remote from where it sat on the coffee table in front of you.
“Yeah, thanks,” he replied. He watched you intently as you ‘worked your magic’ on the electronic contraption.
“I know I was completely at your mercy last night, Ben,” you said, focused on the TV and not looking over at him. “And I know you could’ve easily taken advantage of the fact I was out of it.”
“But I didn’t.”
“I know that, too.”
“But you still don’t trust me?”
“I want to,” you said. You reached out your left hand and gently placed it on his right one. He looked down at where your hands were touching and smiled softly. “I want to trust you, I just need time to get to know you.”
“You sayin’ you wanna get to know me?” he asked with a bit of a smirk before you nodded. The two of you stayed like that for a moment before Soldier Boy broke the silence; “So, where do we go from here?”
“How about we watch something together?” you suggested. 
“That sounds great, sweetheart.”
274 notes · View notes
Trust
main masterlist | the boys masterlist
summary: soldier boy doesn’t realize just how scared of him you truly are
pairing: soldier boy x female reader
rating: R for language, mature themes
word count: 5.2k
warnings: please read! language, mentions of sexual assault, attempted sexual assault, drugging, violence, forced purging (to prevent possible death), briefly mentioned nudity (not in a smutty way), much darker than anything i’ve published before
author’s note: this started out as a small idea but i got really carried away lol.
another note: sorry for kinda ghosting after uploading the last fic, my brain hates me 🙃 i can’t promise i won’t “disappear” again like immediately after uploading this so thank you in advance for any/all feedback/comments 💞💞
Tumblr media Tumblr media
It was late at night (more like early morning) when you were arguing with Butcher at the door. 
“Don’t you dare leave me here alone with him!” you seethed.
“C’mon, love, the old cunt’s gonna be asleep the whole time I’m gone.”
Your teeth clenched at the idea of being alone in the house with Soldier Boy, but if Billy didn’t go now to “run an errand” he’d probably have to go later that day anyway.
“Fine,” you sighed. “But if ‘the old cunt’ lays a fucking finger on me I swear to god Butcher!”
“I’ll be back by nine.”
**
A loud knock on your door woke you up.
“Hey! Sweetheart!” Soldier Boy’s voice shouted from the other side. “You up?”
“I am now,” you mumbled to yourself angrily. 7:26 your clock read.
“I heard that,” Soldier Boy said. 
Shit, you thought. “What do you want?” 
“The stupid TV isn’t fuckin’ working, I need you to come and work your magic for me.”
You sighed. You couldn’t ignore him at this point, that’d most likely just anger him further. If he wanted to he’d just break down the door and drag you out to the living room.
“C’mon toots, don’t be a bitch about it,” he exclaimed.
“Screw you,” you mumbled.
“Hey!” Soldier Boy exclaimed. “What’d I just fuckin’ say!” He tried opening the door but you’d obviously locked it. 
“I-I’ll be out in a second,” you told him. 
“That’s more like it,” he mumbled back.
You quickly got out of bed (whole outfit still on, just in case Soldier Boy had tried something in the night) and hurried to the door before you opened it. There he stood, the strongest man alive. You gulped nervously as he didn’t move and stayed blocking your way out. 
He eyed you up and down obnoxiously, smirking at the sight and making your heart beat faster.
“Same outfit as last night, I see,” he said. 
“S-So?” you asked, trying to mask the pure fear this man instilled in you. “I just like these clothes, is all.” He didn’t say anything, just kept smirking at you. “You’re wearing the same clothes as yesterday, too, you know!”
“So you have been checking me out.” He nodded a little, the smirk still on his face.
“Did you want me to help you with the TV or did you just wake me up to be a dick?”
“TV,” he grumbled, “but would it kill you to be polite once in a while?”
“Would it kill you to move out of the way so I can head downstairs?”
He furrowed his brows before he rolled his eyes and stepped to the side; “After you, princess,” he mocked. You left your bedroom and he followed you downstairs to where the perfectly functioning TV hung on the wall.
You hated the way Soldier Boy eyed you as you took the remote out from the cabinet beside the TV and turned it on.
“It seems to be working fine?” you said, wanting to take his attention off of your ass. “What were you trying to watch?”
“Uh…how bout you pick something for us?” he offered.
“Excuse me?” you practically scoffed.
“C’mon, sit down and watch with me,” he said. You turned around, expecting to see him sitting on the couch, but he was now standing about a yard away from you. “Butcher seems to be gone…” He took a step towards you. “We’ve got the whole house to ourselves…” Another step. “Why don’t we have some fun?” He reached out and lightly touched your cheek, traced down the side of your face, and tilted your chin up to look him in the eyes.
“Soldier Boy—”
“I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me,” he interrupted you. “I know your heart starts racing when I walk into a room, I know it beats even faster when I get close. I know you want me, don’t even try to fuckin’ deny it.”
“P-Please—”
“Oh, I like a woman who knows when to beg,” he chuckled lowly as he bent down to kiss you.
“Please don’t hurt me, please,” you said quickly, tears stinging your eyes as they threatened to fall. “I-I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch to you, I-I didn’t mean it! Please don’t kill me!”
“Kill you?” He stood up straight, pulling his hand up off your face and putting it up in defense. “Kill you?” There was a moment of silence as he intensely looked at your reaction to him getting so close. “You…You’re scared of me, aren’t you?”
You nodded slightly, worried you might upset him as his face fell. He seemed almost saddened by the fact you didn’t want him near you.
“But…I’m a hero,” he scoffed slightly. “Why would you be scared of me?”
“Please don’t take it personally,” you said. “Just let me set up the TV for you and go back to my room…please?”
“You’re fuckin’ terrified right now, aren’t you?” he asked and again you nodded, again he scoffed.
“Can you blame me?” you asked. “I-If I rub you the wrong way you could snap my neck like a chicken bone without breaking a sweat.”
“But I…” He continued looking at you with confusion that seemed to be laced with curiosity. “I wouldn’t. I mean, I know I get angry sometimes but I’d never hurt you?”
“You wouldn’t be the first hero to turn on me,” you told him quietly. Soldier Boy paused and thought about what to do next. He’d never been in a situation like this before; standing alone with someone who was genuinely scared of him, someone that didn’t trust a hero like himself.
“Just uh… Just turn on a movie and you can go,” he said before he took a seat on the couch. “Another one from my time, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure,” you said; a small, forced smile on your lips. You found a movie you thought he’d like and pressed play for him before tossing the remote on the couch and leaving.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he called out, making you stop in your tracks. “I’m sorry you don’t trust me, but I need you to know that I’d never hurt you.”
“O-Okay, Soldier Boy,” you said before you hurried out of the room, up the stairs, and back into your room. “Billy Butcher I am going to fucking strangle you,” you mumbled to yourself.
**
“You’re up before noon,” Butcher remarked, seeing Soldier Boy in the living room. “And you got the TV workin’ on your own! Atta boy, gov’.”
“Actually, Y/n set it up for me,” Soldier Boy said.
Butcher sighed at that, “So, you’ve talked to her today then, huh?”
“Yeah, why?” the Supe asked before Butcher left to see you. 
He knocked lightly on your door before you opened it. 
“Hello—” Butcher started but a swift slap to the face shut him up pretty quickly.
“Fuck you, Butcher!”
“Did he hurt you?” Butcher asked, holding his cheek.
“No, but he almost fucking did, asshole! How dare you leave me alone with him like that!”
“Oh come off it! If you’re still in one piece then all’s well that ends well, am I right?” he said with a smirk and a shrug. 
“You ever do something like that again and I swear to god William!” You stared daggers at him.
“My ‘errand’ didn’t go as planned anyways, love,” he told you. “I’ve gotta figure out another way to find where they’re hiding Homelander.”
“Or whatever’s left of him,” you mumbled.
**
“Alright, I’m off,” Butcher announced, a full duffle bag in his hand as he headed to the door.
“What?” you exclaimed from the kitchen as you hurried to get between him and his destination. “What’re you talking about?”
“Everything okay?” Soldier Boy asked from the couch near the TV.
“Everything’s fine, gov’, you keep watching your movie,” Butcher said.
“Can I talk to you outside for a minute?” you asked Butcher, you didn’t want Soldier Boy to hear what you were about to say. 
“After you then, love,” Butcher obliged.
The second the door closed behind the two of you, you let him have it.
“Don’t you fucking dare leave me here alone with him again, I cannot fucking take it!”
“It’ll only be for a little while, you’ll be fine!” Butcher said.
“Then let me come with you!”
“What, and leave the cunt here alone? He’ll burn the house down trying to make himself a fuckin’ sandwich,” Butcher exclaimed. “He needs a fuckin’ babysitter and that’s you.”
“Why me? Why can’t you call Hughie? Or Frenchie? Or, better than all of us combined, Kimiko?” you asked.
“Hughie’s outta state, Frenchie and Kimiko are both knee-deep in shit sussing out another lead on Homelander’s whereabouts.”
You sighed heavily, you saw his point but the thought of being trapped again made your stomach hurt; “Please don’t leave me alone with him, Butcher. You know how much he fucking terrifies me, and you know exactly why.”
“I’m sorry I gotta do this to you, love, but you know he’s our only shot at killin’ Homelander once and fucking for all.”
“How long will you be gone?”
“Only a day or two.”
You again conceded, against your better judgment, and let Butcher leave you with Soldier Boy.
“What was that all about?” the Supe asked when you walked back into the house and locked the door. 
You forced a smile; “Nothing, Soldier Boy,” you said, “dinner will be ready soon.”
You didn’t know Soldier Boy heard everything you and Butcher had said.
**
“Looks great, toots.” Soldier Boy walked up behind you in the kitchen, not missing the flinch you threw when he got a little too close. 
“Thanks,” you mumbled. 
“You still that scared of me?” he asked, leaning on the counter and trying to get you to look up at him.
“If you can hear my heart, I’m sure you’ve got something that can smell my fear too.”
“I know I make your heart race, your breathing becomes slightly quicker when I get close, and I’ve noticed your pupils tend to change when you notice I’m next to you.”
“So why is my fear such a fuckin’ surprise, then?” you scoffed.
“I guess I didn’t realize it was fear making your heart race and your pupils dilate slightly.”
“What, you thought I was into you or something?” you asked half-heartedly before you looked over at him and realized that was exactly what he had thought. “Oh.”
“So, yeah, I was surprised when I realized you didn’t like havin’ me around,” he admitted. You almost felt guilty for a moment but it quickly disappeared as you remembered why you were scared of him in the first place. “Can you at least tell me why, though?” he asked as you shoveled his food onto a plate. “Why are you so scared of me? I get that I’m stronger than you but, no offense, isn’t Butcher too? Isn’t like… almost every man out there?”
“One, I trust Butcher. I’ve known him for years and he’s been nothing but good; he’s an asshole, sure, but he’s good when it counts. And two, I don’t spend time alone with ‘almost every man out there’ so that does not help your case at all.” You handed him the plate. “Here’s your food.”
“Thanks, dollface.” He took it from you and you started getting your own plate ready. He watched your every move and his brows knitted with confusion as he did so. 
“You can go sit down,” you told him. “You don’t need to watch me like a hawk.”
“I’m sorry, I’m just still tryin’ to figure you out I guess.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you scoffed.
“You know I’m a hero, right? I’m a superhero, and I would never hurt you?”
“Look, no offense, but the last time I trusted a Supe it really didn’t turn out well and I’m not gonna let myself give you even an inch of trust because you are even stronger than the last guy.”
“What happened? What’d he do?” Soldier Boy asked and you didn’t respond. “C’mon, you owe me that much! I’ve been nothing but good to you, yet you’re treating me like I did whatever this other Supe did to you!”
“I don’t owe you shit, Soldier Boy,” you snapped and you could’ve sworn you saw genuine hurt flash over his features. “If you must know, it was The Deep. I trusted him, let him be good to me, and it all blew up in my face in the most awful way I could’ve imagined.”
“I’m sorry, honey.” He reached out to touch your shoulder but you flinched away from him.
“Please, don’t touch me. I get that you’re trying to be sweet or whatever but please don’t. It’s not doing what you think it’s doing, Soldier Boy.”
He nodded and backed away slightly.
“My name’s Ben,” he told you. You looked at him with a sense of shock. “My real name’s Ben, you don’t have to say ‘Soldier Boy’ all the time, you can just say ‘Ben’.”
“Okay, Ben, while we’re on the topic of names, you could ease up on the ‘toot’s and ‘doll’s and ‘dollface’s and ‘honey’s and ‘sweetheart’s you know. Or at the very least stick to one pet name.”
He smiled at your honesty, hoping it was a sign you might be scared of him just a tad less.
“Think I’ll just stick to callin’ you sweetheart, then,” he replied.
“Thank god, I was really starting to hate dolls.”
That made him laugh deeply before he walked to the table and took his seat.
Don’t you fucking dare, you thought to yourself when you felt a feeling of almost-not-absolute-fear-and-disgust wash over you for a split second. 
**
“Look, I’m sorry, but—”
“You’re sorry?” you scoffed into the phone. “Butcher get the fucking hell back here!”
“I can’t, I’ve gotta spend another night over here. Apparently—”
“I don’t give a rat's ass why you have to stay, I am begging you to please get back here now!” Tears were stinging your eyes as your voice cracked.
“I’m sorry—”
“If he does anything to me, anything at all, I’ll never fucking forgive you for leaving me alone with him, Butcher. You understand me, William? Never!”
“He’s not gonna hurt you,” Butcher sighed. “Just keep your distance and be nice to him. He does have a bit of a temper, maybe he just needs to relieve some tension…”
“That’s not funny!” You gritted your teeth as a few tears slipped down your cheeks. “When are you getting back here?”
“A few more days,” he replied. 
Before he said another word you hung up on him, furious that he thought it was okay to leave you alone with Soldier Boy.
Though the Supe was in his own room upstairs, he still heard every word you said. He’d never admit it, but his heart clenched at the thought of how scared you were right now. 
**
It had been over a week since you’d seen him when Butcher finally got back with some new information on Homelander’s location. He had a plan to find the exact coordinates and he wasn’t going to let his morals get in the way.
“Well, well, you clean up nice,” Butcher commented when you stepped out of the bathroom.
“Shut up,” you grumbled. You were wearing a short royal blue dress with a deep v-neckline and almost no back, the silver heels and necklace tied the otherwise seemingly plain outfit together nicely. “If this stupid plan of yours gets me killed I’m gonna come back and haunt you for the rest of your fuckin’ life.”
“Wow,” Ben beamed when he walked out of his room and saw you standing in the hall with Butcher. “You look incredible, sweetheart.”
“I look like a damn hooker,” you said. 
“That’s the idea, love.” Butcher smirked.
**
A high-ranking Vought employee had been seen at a certain bar almost every night for the last two months and it was now your job to get him to trust you. If he trusted you enough, he would take you back to his place and you could find out any and all information he had on Homelander. 
The plan seemed simple enough, yet Ben seemed more anxious about the situation than you were. 
“Are you sure this is safe?” Soldier Boy asked when you were all seated in the van outside the bar.
“No, but if this helps us get Homelander then it’s safe enough,” you told him. 
“Besides, you’ll be in there with her,” Butcher reminded him. “And if you stay focused on keeping her safe, then I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
“How ‘bout we come up with a code word or something?” Ben suggested as he put in the earpiece Butcher handed him. 
“How about ‘Soldier Boy’?” you said, Ben shook his head.
“And what happens if you need to say ‘Soldier Boy’ but you don’t need help?” he countered.
“How about…Ben?” You smiled a little when he nodded.
“I’ll be listening closely to the whole conversation, if you say ‘Ben’ I’ll come and get you outta there.”
“Sounds good.” 
“Alright,” Butcher interrupted, “Soldier Boy keep me updated and if all goes well, Y/n, we won’t be seeing you again til later tonight.” He winked obnoxiously.
“If this guy genuinely tries to sleep with me I’ll break his fuckin’ nose,” you said flatly. “Info or no info, I ain’t letting him see me naked.”
**
Ben had gone in about a minute before you did and found a nice spot near where he knew you’d be sitting with the target. The second you walked in his eyes were glued. He stayed true to his word and listened to every word you and the target said.
“This seat taken, handsome?” you asked the man who then smirked at you. 
“It is now,” he said. “And what’s your name, gorgeous?”
“Goldie,” you lied as you took your seat. “What’s yours?”
“Steven. Let me buy you a drink?” he offered and called the bartender over when you nodded. 
“Vodka martini,” you ordered. “So Steven, what do you do for work?”
“I work for Vought,” he said and you faked an impressed look. 
“No way!” you gasped. “Oh my god, do you know The Seven?”
“I do,” he said with a nod, clearly full of himself. 
“That is so cool,” you continued stroking his ego. You nodded in thanks when the bartender handed you your drink and you took a sip. “I’ve never met someone so important!”
“You wanna know a secret?” he asked, you nodded enthusiastically. He leaned over so he could whisper into your ear; “I’m actually in The Deep’s close, personal circle.”
Your eyes went wide for a split second before you got a hold of yourself and whispered back; “Really?”
“Uh-huh,” he said. “I could introduce you if you’d like.” You pulled away from him slightly but still tried your best to keep yourself calm.
“Oh, that’s alright,” you shook your head, “I’m sure he’s too busy for little old me.”
“I’m never too busy.” The voice behind you made your whole body tense up and Ben could tell you were in trouble. You hadn’t said the code word though and he knew both you and Butcher would be mad if he screwed up the mission.
“Butcher,” Ben said into the intercom attached to his jacket, “Deep’s here.”
Butcher paused for a moment before he answered; “Don’t freak out. Y/n can handle herself and unless she says ‘Ben’ you don’t make a move, you understand Soldier Boy?”
“Understood,” he replied.
“You know,” The Deep said, still standing behind you, “I’ve had my eye on you since you walked in here, gorgeous.”
“Y-You have?” you asked, wondering if he recognized you or if your face just blurred together with all the other women he had assaulted. You took another sip of the drink in your hand and continued to keep a close eye on it to make sure it didn’t get spiked.
“I have,” he replied. “Now, why don’t you let my friend Steven here show you a nice time, then take you back to my place at Vought Tower?”
“S-Sounds good,” you trembled. “I-I’ll see you later tonight then, Deep.” You took another, smaller sip.
“Wonderful,” he said before he bent down and placed a kiss on your cheek. “Can’t wait to see this dress on my floor.” With that, he walked away and you let out a sigh of relief.
“Fish fucker’s left the building,” Ben told Butcher. “You gonna tail him or are we still focusing on Steven?”
“Stay focused on Steven, we can kill fish fucker another day,” Butcher said.
“So, you want another drink?” Steven asked you. “Or would you rather head over to the tower?”
“You know, I’d rather spend the night at your place, Steven.” You faked a sweet smile. 
“Really?” He raised a brow as a smirk returned to his face. “So, another drink, then?”
“How about I just let you take me home?” The moment you stood up you knew something was wrong. You instantly felt dizzy and sat back down. “Ben, help,” you whispered when you realized exactly what was happening. 
“Looks like we’re heading to the tower, Goldie,” Steven said. “Thanks as always, Pat.” He handed a couple hundreds to the bartender.
Ben came up behind Steven and pinned him against the bar with one hand, his other hand resting on the bar itself a few inches from where you were now slouched over.
“What the hell did you do to her, fuckface?” Ben seethed.
“I didn’t do anything! What’s your problem?” Steven yelled, drawing attention to the scene unfolding.
Ben took the back of the man’s head and brought it up half a foot before he slammed it back down onto the wood. 
“Tell me what you fuckin’ did or I’ll squish you like a bug,” Ben yelled as he applied more and more pressure to Steven’s head.
“Roofie!” Steven yelled. “Ask the bartender!”
“Ben don’t kill him,” Butcher told him through the earpiece. 
“He deserves to fuckin’ die, Butcher,” Ben replied.
“Yes he does but he still has information that we need. If you’ve gotta kill someone, kill the bartender who spiked the fuckin’ drink!”
Ben looked up from gravely injured Steven and saw the bartender cowering in the corner.
“Ben,” you whispered and reached out to touch the hand he still had on the counter. “Ben get me outta here.” His angered expression slowly faded as he looked down into your hooded eyes. “Please?”
“Yeah, I’ve got you,” Soldier Boy said before he quickly scooped you up in his arms and carefully kept your head resting on his shoulder. “Hey, barkeep,” he shouted and the man looked over at him. “Mark my words; no matter where you go or what you do I will find you and tear you limb from fucking limb for hurting her. Your days are fucking numbered.”
Ben hurried you out to the truck and sat you down on the seat next to his so you could lean on him if you wanted, or alternatively, you could lean against the window if you still didn’t want him touching you.
“Stay with her, I’m gonna go figure out how much they gave her and if we need to take her to the hospital,” Butcher told Soldier Boy before leaving.
“Ben,” you slurred, still barely able to open your eyes, “Ben what—what’d you do to me?”
“God fuckin’ damn it, Butcher,” he mumbled under his breath. He blamed Billy entirely for the operation going sideways and for you ending up in danger. “Fuck, you need to purge, sweetheart.” He positioned you so your head was hanging out the side door and stuck his fingers down your throat, ignoring your angered hits to his arms. “This is for your own good, stop fighting me.”
You hurled out the side door, Ben held onto you tightly and made sure you didn’t fall out or get hurt. 
“Please just let me go,” you whispered when he took his fingers out, satisfied with the amount of possibly deadly alcohol you were able to get out of your system.
“I know you’re scared right now, but I can’t let you go,” he told you. “I’m sorry.”
Butcher got back to the car pretty quickly, a worried expression on his face.
“How much did they give her?” Ben asked.
“Too fuckin’ much,” Butcher replied. “We’ve gotta make her puke it all up or she might not make it.”
**
You woke up on the couch to the sound of Butcher and Ben arguing in the kitchen, a splitting headache quickly made itself known when you opened your eyes fully.
“This is your fault, Butcher,” Soldier Boy yelled, “you and your stupid obsession to find Homelander. How dare you put her life at risk like that!”
“Hey I had the strongest man alive in there backing her up, so how the hell did you screw up so badly?”
There was a pause as you kept listing, a part of you was scared you’d start to hear punches being thrown.
Ben shook his head as he looked at his ‘boss’; “You’re a fuckin’ asshole, you know that? She’s been scared outta her fuckin’ mind and yet you just keep on pushin’ her and pushin’ her. And for what? To kill a Supe that’s probably dead already? You know Homelander ain’t a threat since I fuckin’ burned him, yet you still put someone you say you care about in danger.”
“‘Scared outta her fuckin’ mind’?” Butcher scoffed. “What’re you on about?”
“I know she’s terrified of me,” Ben admitted. “I know that you know she is, too. And yet you keep leaving her alone with me, why? Just to make her life worse? To make her feel less safe than she already does?”
“You sayin’ she’s got a reason to be scared of you, then?” Butcher asked. “Thought you were supposed to be some kinda hero?”
“Of course I’d never hurt her! But I’m still a Supe and I know you hate Supe’s. There’s no way in hell you trust me at all or you wouldn’t have her babysitting me every time you leave the fuckin’ house. What I don’t get is why you’re so comfortable leaving her here with the strongest man in the world when you think I’m a fucking monster.” Ben walked over to the fridge and took a bottled water out before he grabbed a cup and left the kitchen.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he said quietly as he entered the living room. “I know you’re up, do you want some water?”
“What happened?” you asked as he squatted on the floor in front of the couch and made eye contact with you.  
“We can fill you in later, you should probably drink,” he said and held out the two items in his hands. “Would you rather the bottle or a cup?”
“Bottle’s fine,” you replied and you slowly sat up, putting a hand to your head before you took the water from him.
“You need some Aspirin or something?” he asked. 
“I’m sure Butcher ‘ll bring me some,” you said, making Ben’s brows furrow a little before he nodded with realization.
“You still don’t trust me much, do you?”
“Sorry,” you mumbled before beginning to drink the water. “What am I wearing, by the way?” you asked and gestured to the dirty, large black tee you had on over the blue dress.
“Oh, uh,” he scratched the back of his neck nervously, “it was on the car floor, I think it’s Butcher’s. I put it on you when uh, when you were kinda out of it and… your boob might’ve kinda… popped outta your dress.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” he mumbled. “I didn't… like I didn’t look or anything, I just saw the shirt and immediately put it over you.”
“Sure.” You nodded before you continued downing the bottled water.
“I’ll go get Butcher to bring you some painkillers,” Ben said before leaving the room.
**
You’d just gotten out of the shower and put on a new set of clean clothes when Butcher stopped you in the hall.
“How’s your head?” he asked.
“Better,” you replied flatly, still pretty frustrated with him.
“I’m sorry I was such an idiot,” he sighed, “I shoulda told Soldier Boy to get you hell outta there the second the fish fucker showed his ugly mug.”
“We needed intel on Homelander,” you reminded him. “My safety was just the price we had to pay.”
“And that was a fucked up currency for me to gamble with,” he said. “I’m sorry I’ve been so obsessed and I’m sorry for leaving you alone with Soldier Boy so much the past couple of weeks.”
You shrugged a little; “It’s no big deal.”
“I want you to know I’m done tryin’ to find Homelander.”
“Seriously?” Your eyes went wide and you furrowed your brows. 
“The cunt’s most likely down for the count anyway thanks to granny fucker downstairs and there are other Supes that are much bigger threats right now anyway. Like The Deep, for example, and the number of people he’s paying to help him get away with assaults like last night. I’ve been talking with Hughie and as it turns out, he’s already had his eye on a handful of other bartenders workin’ for fish dick.”
“So…what? You’re saying you’re gonna go back to your old job at Supe affairs and start hunting down these assholes in a more mentally-healthy way?” you asked.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
**
When you entered the living room you noticed Ben readjusting his position on the couch, as if to try and make himself appear less threatening.
“Hey,” you said quietly, a small smile on your lips as you sat down about two feet from him on the same couch.
“Hey,” he replied. “How’re you feeling?”
“Better.” You nodded. “You need help with the TV?” you asked, picking up the remote from where it sat on the coffee table in front of you.
“Yeah, thanks,” he replied. He watched you intently as you ‘worked your magic’ on the electronic contraption.
“I know I was completely at your mercy last night, Ben,” you said, focused on the TV and not looking over at him. “And I know you could’ve easily taken advantage of the fact I was out of it.”
“But I didn’t.”
“I know that, too.”
“But you still don’t trust me?”
“I want to,” you said. You reached out your left hand and gently placed it on his right one. He looked down at where your hands were touching and smiled softly. “I want to trust you, I just need time to get to know you.”
“You sayin’ you wanna get to know me?” he asked with a bit of a smirk before you nodded. The two of you stayed like that for a moment before Soldier Boy broke the silence; “So, where do we go from here?”
“How about we watch something together?” you suggested. 
“That sounds great, sweetheart.”
274 notes · View notes
Trust
main masterlist | the boys masterlist
summary: soldier boy doesn’t realize just how scared of him you truly are
pairing: soldier boy x female reader
rating: R for language, mature themes
word count: 5.2k
warnings: please read! language, mentions of sexual assault, attempted sexual assault, drugging, violence, forced purging (to prevent possible death), briefly mentioned nudity (not in a smutty way), much darker than anything i’ve published before
author’s note: this started out as a small idea but i got really carried away lol.
another note: sorry for kinda ghosting after uploading the last fic, my brain hates me 🙃 i can’t promise i won’t “disappear” again like immediately after uploading this so thank you in advance for any/all feedback/comments 💞💞
Tumblr media Tumblr media
It was late at night (more like early morning) when you were arguing with Butcher at the door. 
“Don’t you dare leave me here alone with him!” you seethed.
“C’mon, love, the old cunt’s gonna be asleep the whole time I’m gone.”
Your teeth clenched at the idea of being alone in the house with Soldier Boy, but if Billy didn’t go now to “run an errand” he’d probably have to go later that day anyway.
“Fine,” you sighed. “But if ‘the old cunt’ lays a fucking finger on me I swear to god Butcher!”
“I’ll be back by nine.”
**
A loud knock on your door woke you up.
“Hey! Sweetheart!” Soldier Boy’s voice shouted from the other side. “You up?”
“I am now,” you mumbled to yourself angrily. 7:26 your clock read.
“I heard that,” Soldier Boy said. 
Shit, you thought. “What do you want?” 
“The stupid TV isn’t fuckin’ working, I need you to come and work your magic for me.”
You sighed. You couldn’t ignore him at this point, that’d most likely just anger him further. If he wanted to he’d just break down the door and drag you out to the living room.
“C’mon toots, don’t be a bitch about it,” he exclaimed.
“Screw you,” you mumbled.
“Hey!” Soldier Boy exclaimed. “What’d I just fuckin’ say!” He tried opening the door but you’d obviously locked it. 
“I-I’ll be out in a second,” you told him. 
“That’s more like it,” he mumbled back.
You quickly got out of bed (whole outfit still on, just in case Soldier Boy had tried something in the night) and hurried to the door before you opened it. There he stood, the strongest man alive. You gulped nervously as he didn’t move and stayed blocking your way out. 
He eyed you up and down obnoxiously, smirking at the sight and making your heart beat faster.
“Same outfit as last night, I see,” he said. 
“S-So?” you asked, trying to mask the pure fear this man instilled in you. “I just like these clothes, is all.” He didn’t say anything, just kept smirking at you. “You’re wearing the same clothes as yesterday, too, you know!”
“So you have been checking me out.” He nodded a little, the smirk still on his face.
“Did you want me to help you with the TV or did you just wake me up to be a dick?”
“TV,” he grumbled, “but would it kill you to be polite once in a while?”
“Would it kill you to move out of the way so I can head downstairs?”
He furrowed his brows before he rolled his eyes and stepped to the side; “After you, princess,” he mocked. You left your bedroom and he followed you downstairs to where the perfectly functioning TV hung on the wall.
You hated the way Soldier Boy eyed you as you took the remote out from the cabinet beside the TV and turned it on.
“It seems to be working fine?” you said, wanting to take his attention off of your ass. “What were you trying to watch?”
“Uh…how bout you pick something for us?” he offered.
“Excuse me?” you practically scoffed.
“C’mon, sit down and watch with me,” he said. You turned around, expecting to see him sitting on the couch, but he was now standing about a yard away from you. “Butcher seems to be gone…” He took a step towards you. “We’ve got the whole house to ourselves…” Another step. “Why don’t we have some fun?” He reached out and lightly touched your cheek, traced down the side of your face, and tilted your chin up to look him in the eyes.
“Soldier Boy—”
“I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me,” he interrupted you. “I know your heart starts racing when I walk into a room, I know it beats even faster when I get close. I know you want me, don’t even try to fuckin’ deny it.”
“P-Please—”
“Oh, I like a woman who knows when to beg,” he chuckled lowly as he bent down to kiss you.
“Please don’t hurt me, please,” you said quickly, tears stinging your eyes as they threatened to fall. “I-I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch to you, I-I didn’t mean it! Please don’t kill me!”
“Kill you?” He stood up straight, pulling his hand up off your face and putting it up in defense. “Kill you?” There was a moment of silence as he intensely looked at your reaction to him getting so close. “You…You’re scared of me, aren’t you?”
You nodded slightly, worried you might upset him as his face fell. He seemed almost saddened by the fact you didn’t want him near you.
“But…I’m a hero,” he scoffed slightly. “Why would you be scared of me?”
“Please don’t take it personally,” you said. “Just let me set up the TV for you and go back to my room…please?”
“You’re fuckin’ terrified right now, aren’t you?” he asked and again you nodded, again he scoffed.
“Can you blame me?” you asked. “I-If I rub you the wrong way you could snap my neck like a chicken bone without breaking a sweat.”
“But I…” He continued looking at you with confusion that seemed to be laced with curiosity. “I wouldn’t. I mean, I know I get angry sometimes but I’d never hurt you?”
“You wouldn’t be the first hero to turn on me,” you told him quietly. Soldier Boy paused and thought about what to do next. He’d never been in a situation like this before; standing alone with someone who was genuinely scared of him, someone that didn’t trust a hero like himself.
“Just uh… Just turn on a movie and you can go,” he said before he took a seat on the couch. “Another one from my time, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure,” you said; a small, forced smile on your lips. You found a movie you thought he’d like and pressed play for him before tossing the remote on the couch and leaving.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he called out, making you stop in your tracks. “I’m sorry you don’t trust me, but I need you to know that I’d never hurt you.”
“O-Okay, Soldier Boy,” you said before you hurried out of the room, up the stairs, and back into your room. “Billy Butcher I am going to fucking strangle you,” you mumbled to yourself.
**
“You’re up before noon,” Butcher remarked, seeing Soldier Boy in the living room. “And you got the TV workin’ on your own! Atta boy, gov’.”
“Actually, Y/n set it up for me,” Soldier Boy said.
Butcher sighed at that, “So, you’ve talked to her today then, huh?”
“Yeah, why?” the Supe asked before Butcher left to see you. 
He knocked lightly on your door before you opened it. 
“Hello—” Butcher started but a swift slap to the face shut him up pretty quickly.
“Fuck you, Butcher!”
“Did he hurt you?” Butcher asked, holding his cheek.
“No, but he almost fucking did, asshole! How dare you leave me alone with him like that!”
“Oh come off it! If you’re still in one piece then all’s well that ends well, am I right?” he said with a smirk and a shrug. 
“You ever do something like that again and I swear to god William!” You stared daggers at him.
“My ‘errand’ didn’t go as planned anyways, love,” he told you. “I’ve gotta figure out another way to find where they’re hiding Homelander.”
“Or whatever’s left of him,” you mumbled.
**
“Alright, I’m off,” Butcher announced, a full duffle bag in his hand as he headed to the door.
“What?” you exclaimed from the kitchen as you hurried to get between him and his destination. “What’re you talking about?”
“Everything okay?” Soldier Boy asked from the couch near the TV.
“Everything’s fine, gov’, you keep watching your movie,” Butcher said.
“Can I talk to you outside for a minute?” you asked Butcher, you didn’t want Soldier Boy to hear what you were about to say. 
“After you then, love,” Butcher obliged.
The second the door closed behind the two of you, you let him have it.
“Don’t you fucking dare leave me here alone with him again, I cannot fucking take it!”
“It’ll only be for a little while, you’ll be fine!” Butcher said.
“Then let me come with you!”
“What, and leave the cunt here alone? He’ll burn the house down trying to make himself a fuckin’ sandwich,” Butcher exclaimed. “He needs a fuckin’ babysitter and that’s you.”
“Why me? Why can’t you call Hughie? Or Frenchie? Or, better than all of us combined, Kimiko?” you asked.
“Hughie’s outta state, Frenchie and Kimiko are both knee-deep in shit sussing out another lead on Homelander’s whereabouts.”
You sighed heavily, you saw his point but the thought of being trapped again made your stomach hurt; “Please don’t leave me alone with him, Butcher. You know how much he fucking terrifies me, and you know exactly why.”
“I’m sorry I gotta do this to you, love, but you know he’s our only shot at killin’ Homelander once and fucking for all.”
“How long will you be gone?”
“Only a day or two.”
You again conceded, against your better judgment, and let Butcher leave you with Soldier Boy.
“What was that all about?” the Supe asked when you walked back into the house and locked the door. 
You forced a smile; “Nothing, Soldier Boy,” you said, “dinner will be ready soon.”
You didn’t know Soldier Boy heard everything you and Butcher had said.
**
“Looks great, toots.” Soldier Boy walked up behind you in the kitchen, not missing the flinch you threw when he got a little too close. 
“Thanks,” you mumbled. 
“You still that scared of me?” he asked, leaning on the counter and trying to get you to look up at him.
“If you can hear my heart, I’m sure you’ve got something that can smell my fear too.”
“I know I make your heart race, your breathing becomes slightly quicker when I get close, and I’ve noticed your pupils tend to change when you notice I’m next to you.”
“So why is my fear such a fuckin’ surprise, then?” you scoffed.
“I guess I didn’t realize it was fear making your heart race and your pupils dilate slightly.”
“What, you thought I was into you or something?” you asked half-heartedly before you looked over at him and realized that was exactly what he had thought. “Oh.”
“So, yeah, I was surprised when I realized you didn’t like havin’ me around,” he admitted. You almost felt guilty for a moment but it quickly disappeared as you remembered why you were scared of him in the first place. “Can you at least tell me why, though?” he asked as you shoveled his food onto a plate. “Why are you so scared of me? I get that I’m stronger than you but, no offense, isn’t Butcher too? Isn’t like… almost every man out there?”
“One, I trust Butcher. I’ve known him for years and he’s been nothing but good; he’s an asshole, sure, but he’s good when it counts. And two, I don’t spend time alone with ‘almost every man out there’ so that does not help your case at all.” You handed him the plate. “Here’s your food.”
“Thanks, dollface.” He took it from you and you started getting your own plate ready. He watched your every move and his brows knitted with confusion as he did so. 
“You can go sit down,” you told him. “You don’t need to watch me like a hawk.”
“I’m sorry, I’m just still tryin’ to figure you out I guess.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you scoffed.
“You know I’m a hero, right? I’m a superhero, and I would never hurt you?”
“Look, no offense, but the last time I trusted a Supe it really didn’t turn out well and I’m not gonna let myself give you even an inch of trust because you are even stronger than the last guy.”
“What happened? What’d he do?” Soldier Boy asked and you didn’t respond. “C’mon, you owe me that much! I’ve been nothing but good to you, yet you’re treating me like I did whatever this other Supe did to you!”
“I don’t owe you shit, Soldier Boy,” you snapped and you could’ve sworn you saw genuine hurt flash over his features. “If you must know, it was The Deep. I trusted him, let him be good to me, and it all blew up in my face in the most awful way I could’ve imagined.”
“I’m sorry, honey.” He reached out to touch your shoulder but you flinched away from him.
“Please, don’t touch me. I get that you’re trying to be sweet or whatever but please don’t. It’s not doing what you think it’s doing, Soldier Boy.”
He nodded and backed away slightly.
“My name’s Ben,” he told you. You looked at him with a sense of shock. “My real name’s Ben, you don’t have to say ‘Soldier Boy’ all the time, you can just say ‘Ben’.”
“Okay, Ben, while we’re on the topic of names, you could ease up on the ‘toot’s and ‘doll’s and ‘dollface’s and ‘honey’s and ‘sweetheart’s you know. Or at the very least stick to one pet name.”
He smiled at your honesty, hoping it was a sign you might be scared of him just a tad less.
“Think I’ll just stick to callin’ you sweetheart, then,” he replied.
“Thank god, I was really starting to hate dolls.”
That made him laugh deeply before he walked to the table and took his seat.
Don’t you fucking dare, you thought to yourself when you felt a feeling of almost-not-absolute-fear-and-disgust wash over you for a split second. 
**
“Look, I’m sorry, but—”
“You’re sorry?” you scoffed into the phone. “Butcher get the fucking hell back here!”
“I can’t, I’ve gotta spend another night over here. Apparently—”
“I don’t give a rat's ass why you have to stay, I am begging you to please get back here now!” Tears were stinging your eyes as your voice cracked.
“I’m sorry—”
“If he does anything to me, anything at all, I’ll never fucking forgive you for leaving me alone with him, Butcher. You understand me, William? Never!”
“He’s not gonna hurt you,” Butcher sighed. “Just keep your distance and be nice to him. He does have a bit of a temper, maybe he just needs to relieve some tension…”
“That’s not funny!” You gritted your teeth as a few tears slipped down your cheeks. “When are you getting back here?”
“A few more days,” he replied. 
Before he said another word you hung up on him, furious that he thought it was okay to leave you alone with Soldier Boy.
Though the Supe was in his own room upstairs, he still heard every word you said. He’d never admit it, but his heart clenched at the thought of how scared you were right now. 
**
It had been over a week since you’d seen him when Butcher finally got back with some new information on Homelander’s location. He had a plan to find the exact coordinates and he wasn’t going to let his morals get in the way.
“Well, well, you clean up nice,” Butcher commented when you stepped out of the bathroom.
“Shut up,” you grumbled. You were wearing a short royal blue dress with a deep v-neckline and almost no back, the silver heels and necklace tied the otherwise seemingly plain outfit together nicely. “If this stupid plan of yours gets me killed I’m gonna come back and haunt you for the rest of your fuckin’ life.”
“Wow,” Ben beamed when he walked out of his room and saw you standing in the hall with Butcher. “You look incredible, sweetheart.”
“I look like a damn hooker,” you said. 
“That’s the idea, love.” Butcher smirked.
**
A high-ranking Vought employee had been seen at a certain bar almost every night for the last two months and it was now your job to get him to trust you. If he trusted you enough, he would take you back to his place and you could find out any and all information he had on Homelander. 
The plan seemed simple enough, yet Ben seemed more anxious about the situation than you were. 
“Are you sure this is safe?” Soldier Boy asked when you were all seated in the van outside the bar.
“No, but if this helps us get Homelander then it’s safe enough,” you told him. 
“Besides, you’ll be in there with her,” Butcher reminded him. “And if you stay focused on keeping her safe, then I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
“How ‘bout we come up with a code word or something?” Ben suggested as he put in the earpiece Butcher handed him. 
“How about ‘Soldier Boy’?” you said, Ben shook his head.
“And what happens if you need to say ‘Soldier Boy’ but you don’t need help?” he countered.
“How about…Ben?” You smiled a little when he nodded.
“I’ll be listening closely to the whole conversation, if you say ‘Ben’ I’ll come and get you outta there.”
“Sounds good.” 
“Alright,” Butcher interrupted, “Soldier Boy keep me updated and if all goes well, Y/n, we won’t be seeing you again til later tonight.” He winked obnoxiously.
“If this guy genuinely tries to sleep with me I’ll break his fuckin’ nose,” you said flatly. “Info or no info, I ain’t letting him see me naked.”
**
Ben had gone in about a minute before you did and found a nice spot near where he knew you’d be sitting with the target. The second you walked in his eyes were glued. He stayed true to his word and listened to every word you and the target said.
“This seat taken, handsome?” you asked the man who then smirked at you. 
“It is now,” he said. “And what’s your name, gorgeous?”
“Goldie,” you lied as you took your seat. “What’s yours?”
“Steven. Let me buy you a drink?” he offered and called the bartender over when you nodded. 
“Vodka martini,” you ordered. “So Steven, what do you do for work?”
“I work for Vought,” he said and you faked an impressed look. 
“No way!” you gasped. “Oh my god, do you know The Seven?”
“I do,” he said with a nod, clearly full of himself. 
“That is so cool,” you continued stroking his ego. You nodded in thanks when the bartender handed you your drink and you took a sip. “I’ve never met someone so important!”
“You wanna know a secret?” he asked, you nodded enthusiastically. He leaned over so he could whisper into your ear; “I’m actually in The Deep’s close, personal circle.”
Your eyes went wide for a split second before you got a hold of yourself and whispered back; “Really?”
“Uh-huh,” he said. “I could introduce you if you’d like.” You pulled away from him slightly but still tried your best to keep yourself calm.
“Oh, that’s alright,” you shook your head, “I’m sure he’s too busy for little old me.”
“I’m never too busy.” The voice behind you made your whole body tense up and Ben could tell you were in trouble. You hadn’t said the code word though and he knew both you and Butcher would be mad if he screwed up the mission.
“Butcher,” Ben said into the intercom attached to his jacket, “Deep’s here.”
Butcher paused for a moment before he answered; “Don’t freak out. Y/n can handle herself and unless she says ‘Ben’ you don’t make a move, you understand Soldier Boy?”
“Understood,” he replied.
“You know,” The Deep said, still standing behind you, “I’ve had my eye on you since you walked in here, gorgeous.”
“Y-You have?” you asked, wondering if he recognized you or if your face just blurred together with all the other women he had assaulted. You took another sip of the drink in your hand and continued to keep a close eye on it to make sure it didn’t get spiked.
“I have,” he replied. “Now, why don’t you let my friend Steven here show you a nice time, then take you back to my place at Vought Tower?”
“S-Sounds good,” you trembled. “I-I’ll see you later tonight then, Deep.” You took another, smaller sip.
“Wonderful,” he said before he bent down and placed a kiss on your cheek. “Can’t wait to see this dress on my floor.” With that, he walked away and you let out a sigh of relief.
“Fish fucker’s left the building,” Ben told Butcher. “You gonna tail him or are we still focusing on Steven?”
“Stay focused on Steven, we can kill fish fucker another day,” Butcher said.
“So, you want another drink?” Steven asked you. “Or would you rather head over to the tower?”
“You know, I’d rather spend the night at your place, Steven.” You faked a sweet smile. 
“Really?” He raised a brow as a smirk returned to his face. “So, another drink, then?”
“How about I just let you take me home?” The moment you stood up you knew something was wrong. You instantly felt dizzy and sat back down. “Ben, help,” you whispered when you realized exactly what was happening. 
“Looks like we’re heading to the tower, Goldie,” Steven said. “Thanks as always, Pat.” He handed a couple hundreds to the bartender.
Ben came up behind Steven and pinned him against the bar with one hand, his other hand resting on the bar itself a few inches from where you were now slouched over.
“What the hell did you do to her, fuckface?” Ben seethed.
“I didn’t do anything! What’s your problem?” Steven yelled, drawing attention to the scene unfolding.
Ben took the back of the man’s head and brought it up half a foot before he slammed it back down onto the wood. 
“Tell me what you fuckin’ did or I’ll squish you like a bug,” Ben yelled as he applied more and more pressure to Steven’s head.
“Roofie!” Steven yelled. “Ask the bartender!”
“Ben don’t kill him,” Butcher told him through the earpiece. 
“He deserves to fuckin’ die, Butcher,” Ben replied.
“Yes he does but he still has information that we need. If you’ve gotta kill someone, kill the bartender who spiked the fuckin’ drink!”
Ben looked up from gravely injured Steven and saw the bartender cowering in the corner.
“Ben,” you whispered and reached out to touch the hand he still had on the counter. “Ben get me outta here.” His angered expression slowly faded as he looked down into your hooded eyes. “Please?”
“Yeah, I’ve got you,” Soldier Boy said before he quickly scooped you up in his arms and carefully kept your head resting on his shoulder. “Hey, barkeep,” he shouted and the man looked over at him. “Mark my words; no matter where you go or what you do I will find you and tear you limb from fucking limb for hurting her. Your days are fucking numbered.”
Ben hurried you out to the truck and sat you down on the seat next to his so you could lean on him if you wanted, or alternatively, you could lean against the window if you still didn’t want him touching you.
“Stay with her, I’m gonna go figure out how much they gave her and if we need to take her to the hospital,” Butcher told Soldier Boy before leaving.
“Ben,” you slurred, still barely able to open your eyes, “Ben what—what’d you do to me?”
“God fuckin’ damn it, Butcher,” he mumbled under his breath. He blamed Billy entirely for the operation going sideways and for you ending up in danger. “Fuck, you need to purge, sweetheart.” He positioned you so your head was hanging out the side door and stuck his fingers down your throat, ignoring your angered hits to his arms. “This is for your own good, stop fighting me.”
You hurled out the side door, Ben held onto you tightly and made sure you didn’t fall out or get hurt. 
“Please just let me go,” you whispered when he took his fingers out, satisfied with the amount of possibly deadly alcohol you were able to get out of your system.
“I know you’re scared right now, but I can’t let you go,” he told you. “I’m sorry.”
Butcher got back to the car pretty quickly, a worried expression on his face.
“How much did they give her?” Ben asked.
“Too fuckin’ much,” Butcher replied. “We’ve gotta make her puke it all up or she might not make it.”
**
You woke up on the couch to the sound of Butcher and Ben arguing in the kitchen, a splitting headache quickly made itself known when you opened your eyes fully.
“This is your fault, Butcher,” Soldier Boy yelled, “you and your stupid obsession to find Homelander. How dare you put her life at risk like that!”
“Hey I had the strongest man alive in there backing her up, so how the hell did you screw up so badly?”
There was a pause as you kept listing, a part of you was scared you’d start to hear punches being thrown.
Ben shook his head as he looked at his ‘boss’; “You’re a fuckin’ asshole, you know that? She’s been scared outta her fuckin’ mind and yet you just keep on pushin’ her and pushin’ her. And for what? To kill a Supe that’s probably dead already? You know Homelander ain’t a threat since I fuckin’ burned him, yet you still put someone you say you care about in danger.”
“‘Scared outta her fuckin’ mind’?” Butcher scoffed. “What’re you on about?”
“I know she’s terrified of me,” Ben admitted. “I know that you know she is, too. And yet you keep leaving her alone with me, why? Just to make her life worse? To make her feel less safe than she already does?”
“You sayin’ she’s got a reason to be scared of you, then?” Butcher asked. “Thought you were supposed to be some kinda hero?”
“Of course I’d never hurt her! But I’m still a Supe and I know you hate Supe’s. There’s no way in hell you trust me at all or you wouldn’t have her babysitting me every time you leave the fuckin’ house. What I don’t get is why you’re so comfortable leaving her here with the strongest man in the world when you think I’m a fucking monster.” Ben walked over to the fridge and took a bottled water out before he grabbed a cup and left the kitchen.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he said quietly as he entered the living room. “I know you’re up, do you want some water?”
“What happened?” you asked as he squatted on the floor in front of the couch and made eye contact with you.  
“We can fill you in later, you should probably drink,” he said and held out the two items in his hands. “Would you rather the bottle or a cup?”
“Bottle’s fine,” you replied and you slowly sat up, putting a hand to your head before you took the water from him.
“You need some Aspirin or something?” he asked. 
“I’m sure Butcher ‘ll bring me some,” you said, making Ben’s brows furrow a little before he nodded with realization.
“You still don’t trust me much, do you?”
“Sorry,” you mumbled before beginning to drink the water. “What am I wearing, by the way?” you asked and gestured to the dirty, large black tee you had on over the blue dress.
“Oh, uh,” he scratched the back of his neck nervously, “it was on the car floor, I think it’s Butcher’s. I put it on you when uh, when you were kinda out of it and… your boob might’ve kinda… popped outta your dress.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” he mumbled. “I didn't… like I didn’t look or anything, I just saw the shirt and immediately put it over you.”
“Sure.” You nodded before you continued downing the bottled water.
“I’ll go get Butcher to bring you some painkillers,” Ben said before leaving the room.
**
You’d just gotten out of the shower and put on a new set of clean clothes when Butcher stopped you in the hall.
“How’s your head?” he asked.
“Better,” you replied flatly, still pretty frustrated with him.
“I’m sorry I was such an idiot,” he sighed, “I shoulda told Soldier Boy to get you hell outta there the second the fish fucker showed his ugly mug.”
“We needed intel on Homelander,” you reminded him. “My safety was just the price we had to pay.”
“And that was a fucked up currency for me to gamble with,” he said. “I’m sorry I’ve been so obsessed and I’m sorry for leaving you alone with Soldier Boy so much the past couple of weeks.”
You shrugged a little; “It’s no big deal.”
“I want you to know I’m done tryin’ to find Homelander.”
“Seriously?” Your eyes went wide and you furrowed your brows. 
“The cunt’s most likely down for the count anyway thanks to granny fucker downstairs and there are other Supes that are much bigger threats right now anyway. Like The Deep, for example, and the number of people he’s paying to help him get away with assaults like last night. I’ve been talking with Hughie and as it turns out, he’s already had his eye on a handful of other bartenders workin’ for fish dick.”
“So…what? You’re saying you’re gonna go back to your old job at Supe affairs and start hunting down these assholes in a more mentally-healthy way?” you asked.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
**
When you entered the living room you noticed Ben readjusting his position on the couch, as if to try and make himself appear less threatening.
“Hey,” you said quietly, a small smile on your lips as you sat down about two feet from him on the same couch.
“Hey,” he replied. “How’re you feeling?”
“Better.” You nodded. “You need help with the TV?” you asked, picking up the remote from where it sat on the coffee table in front of you.
“Yeah, thanks,” he replied. He watched you intently as you ‘worked your magic’ on the electronic contraption.
“I know I was completely at your mercy last night, Ben,” you said, focused on the TV and not looking over at him. “And I know you could’ve easily taken advantage of the fact I was out of it.”
“But I didn’t.”
“I know that, too.”
“But you still don’t trust me?”
“I want to,” you said. You reached out your left hand and gently placed it on his right one. He looked down at where your hands were touching and smiled softly. “I want to trust you, I just need time to get to know you.”
“You sayin’ you wanna get to know me?” he asked with a bit of a smirk before you nodded. The two of you stayed like that for a moment before Soldier Boy broke the silence; “So, where do we go from here?”
“How about we watch something together?” you suggested. 
“That sounds great, sweetheart.”
274 notes · View notes
sorry i dipped all of march, i had a very minor (massive) mental breakdown so that’s always fun. anyways… soldier boy fic soon???
2 notes · View notes
Thank you so so much!! 🥹😭💞💞💞💞
February Reading Recs
Tumblr media
To show some love and appreciation to all the amazing writers here on tumblr, here are all the fantastic fics I've read this month. 💖
Many of these fics and blogs are 18+ only, and NSFW please heed the author's individual fic warnings and requests regarding no minors. I am not responsible for your media consumption.
Tumblr media
2023 Reading Recs
Walker
Cordell Walker
Quieting the Demons Inside @idreamofplaid
Authors Summary: Cordell opens up to the reader, and his vulnerability takes their relationship to the next level.
Privacy @idreamofplaid
Authors Summary: Cordell is a passionate man, but he’s a dad too. It doesn’t mean he has to choose between the two.
Texas Nights @stefanmikaleson1864
Dawsons Creek
CJ Braxton
Something Like This @thebiggerbear
Authors Summary: A Nor'easter hits Boston and luckily for you, you don't have anywhere you need to be except right here snuggled up with CJ.
My Bloody Valentine
Tom Hanniger
Lonely Dancers @mind-empty-just-fictional-people
Authors summary: when your boyfriend cheats on you, it leads you to tom hanniger
10 Inch Hero
Boaz Priestly
Code Red @zepskies
Authors Summary: When you call him for help, Priestly realizes that he finally has the relationship of his dreams.
High School Never Ends Part 1 | Part 2 | @illshakeyouallnightlong-dean
Supernatural
Dean Winchester
Hollow @thoughtslikeaminefield
Authors Summary: @winchesterxfamilybusiness​ submitted this prompt to @cabin-fever-bang​ “Would anyone be willing to write something with Dean [or Jensen] x reader to the song Love on the Brain by Rihanna -xx”
Fire & Rain Masterlist @writercole
Authors Summary: When a fire destroys her place to live, Y/N and her daughter Lana are left with nowhere to go and no one to count on, except the kindness of a beautiful, green-eyed firefighter that saved their lives. Will the pair of them make it through the obstacles life has dealt them or will they crash and burn?
Just Another Day @1000roughdrafts
Authors Summary: Fluffy Dean x female!reader Valentine's Day post
Don't Forget It @hintsofhoney
Authors Summary: While working a case with Dean, he gets jealous of the way you interact with a suspect and decides to remind you who you belong to.
Sam Winchester
You're On Your Own Kid Part 1 @my-proof-is-you
Authors Summary: You’re used to being on your own. You’d been on your own as long as you could remember. Could Sam show you that it isn’t the only way to live?
Untitled Sam Winchester Fic @supernaturalfreewill
Big Sky
Beau Arlen
Febuwhump Day 10 @luci-in-trenchcoats
Febuwhump Day 14 @luci-in-trenchcoats
Febuwhump Day 21 @luci-in-trenchcoats
Whole Lotta Love @deanbrainrotwritings
Authors Summary: beau finds a way repays the reader after taking care of him when he’s injured, but also to apologise for worrying her. but most importantly, to prove he was okay.
The Way We Fall In Love @smellingofpoetry
Authors Summary: This is the story of how they fall in love.
The Boys
Soldier Boy
Febuwhump Day 12 @luci-in-trenchcoats
Side Effects of Soldier Boy @tom-whore-dleston
Authors Summary: Soldier Boy tries to keep you quiet during sex.
Smallville
Jason Teague
Febuwhump Day 7 @luci-in-trenchcoats
50 notes · View notes
Poems
main masterlist | supernatural masterlist
summary: dean searches your room when you’re missing, and the love letters he finds break his heart
pairing: dean winchester x female reader
rating: R for language
word count: 1.9k (1.5k excluding poems) 
warnings: reader goes/is missing, language, 
author’s note: please don’t make fun of my “poetry”, i know it’s not good that’s why i don't write poems lol
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“Hey Dean, I’m working a case near Wichita so I’ll probably be back home by the end of the week. See you soon, bye.”
“That’s the last I heard from her,” Dean told his brother after playing him the message you left. “It’s been over a week, I’m gettin’ worried here!”
“Do you know what kinda case she was working?” Sam asked, Dean shook his head. “Okay, well I’m sure she’s fine, Dean. Let’s call the hospitals around where she is and ask if she’s there.”
“You do that, I’m gonna head to Wichita,” Dean replied.
“I think we should call the hospitals first, Dean. She said she was near Wichita, she could be anywhere from here to there!”
Dean sighed but agreed with Sam’s plan.
**
The boys had no luck with any of the hospitals so they decided to head over to Wichita and look for you. They searched for a few days before heading back to the bunker, hoping you might be there waiting for them. You weren’t, of course, and that only made their worry grow.
You’d been missing for nearly two weeks!  
Dean thought there might be some kind of clue in your room and decided that searching it was next on his to-do list. Though he knew he was grasping at straws, he did it anyway.
Opening the door to your room, he smiled at the poster near your bed. It was the one he’d gotten you for Christmas last year. It was a kind of gag gift—it was his favorite band. (His real gift had been much more thoughtful.)
He began his search at your desk, digging through the mess of papers splayed out on the wood surface. His brows furrowed when he found one paper in particular. It looked like… a love poem?
The way your hair looks in the morning
The way your laugh adds life to moments boring
The way your breath hits my neck when you’re standing just behind me
Reaching over to grab something off the table
A lore book, of all things to be
And the way your eyes light up when you look into mine
I swear I almost see a hint of love
Behind those piercing starlights
Your lips on mine is what I need
Did you hear me? 
I said kiss me, you fool!
We’ve not got much time
In this line of life 
And I need you at my side.
Dean didn’t know if the poem would be considered “good” in the public eye, but he knew it made his heart clench. You were in love? But… with whom?
To him, the words were beautiful, and the thought that you wrote them about someone else broke his fucking heart. He knew there were no clues to your whereabouts in the next poem, but of course, he read it anyway.
I think of you when I drive and spot a classic car
I think of you when I eat a cheeseburger 
And I’ll turn it upside down when I’m missing you
I think of you when I hear a Zepplin song
And I turn the music up when I’m not with you
I think of you when I see anyone wear flannel
Or a leather jacket that’s clearly a size or two too big
And I love to think of you
It just makes sense to me
I love to picture you beside me
At night when I can’t sleep
Or when I get scared of what I’m facing
I think of what you would do
Day or night
Night, day, or noon 
I always think of you
Whoever this mystery person was, they were fucking lucky. Dean had never felt so jealous in his entire life. He always thought you two had a “will they won’t they” side to your relationship but at that moment he realized it was completely one-sided. The fun, flirty side to all your late-night conversations had just been friendly. Two friends playfully talking as if they both wanted to be more.
Of course Dean wanted to be more. Of course he knew he wanted to be with you. But now? Now he knew he’d either missed his chance or he simply never had one.
You were in love with someone that wasn’t him. And the love you’d been writing about wasn’t the kind someone gets over. It’s the kind that sticks—for life. The kind that people write songs about, the kind that people fight wars over, and the kind that makes people go crazy in the best way. 
He knew he’d found that love when he first fell for you, but it turned out you had found that love in someone else.
“Anything?” Sam asked, walking into your room.
“Uhm,” Dean cleared his throat, hoping his eyes didn’t look as cloudy as they felt. “No, nothing important. Just some love letters or something.” 
Sam furrowed his brows and picked up one of the poems off the desk, one that Dean had not read yet. As the taller Winchester read what you wrote his eyes grew wide, practically popping out of his head as his mouth fell open.
“Oh my fucking god!” Sam exclaimed. “Y/n’s in love with you?” He looked at his older brother in shock.
“Me? No, these poems are about whoever she’s been seeing recently, they aren’t about me. We’re just friends.”
“You haven’t read this one yet, have you?” Sam asked with a small smile before handing it over.
You asked me today; “what’s your favorite color?”
And I just shrugged; “I don’t know, blue?”
Cause how could I have said the truth?
The color I love most in the world
The color that brings me nothing but joy
In this sad, awful little life
Is the green and hazel of your eyes
The emerald diamonds that shine
When you look into the sun
The soft hazel that looks over at me
When we’re reading in the library
How can I tell you all of this 
When the question is so simple and plain
How do I go into such specific detail
About the color I’m in love with
Without freaking you out
Or scaring you away
Or making you laugh at me
Because I know your favorite color 
And I know it’s not the color of my eyes
“You…You think this is really about me?” Dean asked his little brother, hoping Sam was right.
“Dean in all my life I have never seen anyone but you eat a burger bun-side-down,” Sam chuckled a little having read one of the poems Dean had read earlier.
“Oh my god.” Dean furrowed his brows, looking back down at the paper in his hands. “We’ve gotta find her, Sammy, I gotta tell her!”
“Tell her that you went through her stuff while she was gone? Don’t think that’s the best idea.”
“No! Tell her I’m in love with her! Tell her that the color of her eyes is my favorite fucking color too! And every time her favorite band comes on the radio I turn it up, and every time I see a woman wearing her type of clothes I think about her. Tell her that all I do every waking moment of every day is wish I was with her, wish I was holding her in my arms so I could never let go.”
“I think you just told her.” Sam smiled, nodding to where you now stood at your door. Dean turned around quickly. Tears of joy stung your eyes as you looked at him and smiled.
“You love me?” you asked.
“More than anything,” Dean admitted as he hurried to you. He wrapped you in a tight hug, kissing your temple quickly before he tucked your head under his chin. “I’m so glad you’re okay!”
“I’m sorry I didn’t call, it’s a long story,” you mumbled. “When vampires ban together with twisted humans, they’re a lot harder to kill.”
“We were really worried about you,” Dean admitted. “Like…fucking terrified.”
“Is that why you decided to dig through my personal shit?” you asked. You were one hundred percent kidding, but Dean was still nervous.
“Yeah…sorry,” Sam cringe-clenched his teeth, “it was my fault.”
You and Dean pulled back from the hug, but you took his hand in yours as you narrowed your gaze at the younger hunter.
“I know your tell, Sammy,” you said. “But it’s sweet that you’re trying to cover for Dean.” 
“Yep, all Dean’s fault,” Sam admitted before heading for the door, giving his brother a pat on the shoulder on his way out. “Good luck.”
“Look, I didn’t mean to invade your privacy, I swear,” Dean told you quickly. “I was looking for something that might tell me where the hell you were.”
“How many did you read?” you asked.
“Three,” Dean sighed, still thinking you were pissed at him.
“So…you know, then? That I’m hopelessly in love with you? And you think I’d be mad at you for looking through my stuff?”
“I mean, I know you value your privacy.”
“Dean,” you started, putting a hand on his cheek and turning his face to look down at you, “would you please just fuckin’ kiss me already?”
He seemed almost surprised by your question but he quickly smiled as he bent down and kissed you. His one hand stayed clasped in yours while his other went to your waist and then trailed to your lower back. The hand you had on his cheek went to the upper back of his neck so you could tangle your fingers in his hair. The smiles on both of your faces only grew before you both pulled away.
“Wow, I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” Dean mumbled before he let out a short, breathy laugh.
“Me too,” you replied. 
**
You’d been back home for a few days now and you had explained the whole missing situation to the brothers. You told them how the simple vampire hunt turned sour quickly when you realized the small-town’s sheriff was in on it and helped the vamps with making humans just disappear. They’d made you as a hunter instantly and held you hostage for a few days before you killed your way out. 
Dean never left your side so when he saw a new poem on your desk his brows furrowed. Curiosity got the better of him as he sat down to read it.
My god aren't I lucky
Now that you're holding me at night
And that first time we kissed in the doorway
I could’ve sworn I was kissing pure sunshine 
When your lips hit mine it was better
Then I could’ve ever imagined
And the love poems I've written became
Manifested words of affirmation
The butterflies in my stomach fluttered
And the blood rushed to my head
Think I could stay like this forever
Won't overthink it, I’ll just go and kiss you instead
“Well, well, well.” You came up behind him, and put your hands on his shoulders before you trailed them down and clasped them together over his chest, leaning your chin on his shoulder and kissing his cheek. “Look who’s digging through my shit again.” You smiled against his skin. He turned his head and placed a deep kiss on your lips.
“I’m not even sorry this time, because I think this might be the best thing I’ve ever read.”
“I love you,” you said and kissed him again.
“I love you so fuckin’ much,” he mumbled back.
398 notes · View notes
Poems
main masterlist | supernatural masterlist
summary: dean searches your room when you’re missing, and the love letters he finds break his heart
pairing: dean winchester x female reader
rating: R for language
word count: 1.9k (1.5k excluding poems) 
warnings: reader goes/is missing, language, 
author’s note: please don’t make fun of my “poetry”, i know it’s not good that’s why i don't write poems lol
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“Hey Dean, I’m working a case near Wichita so I’ll probably be back home by the end of the week. See you soon, bye.”
“That’s the last I heard from her,” Dean told his brother after playing him the message you left. “It’s been over a week, I’m gettin’ worried here!”
“Do you know what kinda case she was working?” Sam asked, Dean shook his head. “Okay, well I’m sure she’s fine, Dean. Let’s call the hospitals around where she is and ask if she’s there.”
“You do that, I’m gonna head to Wichita,” Dean replied.
“I think we should call the hospitals first, Dean. She said she was near Wichita, she could be anywhere from here to there!”
Dean sighed but agreed with Sam’s plan.
**
The boys had no luck with any of the hospitals so they decided to head over to Wichita and look for you. They searched for a few days before heading back to the bunker, hoping you might be there waiting for them. You weren’t, of course, and that only made their worry grow.
You’d been missing for nearly two weeks!  
Dean thought there might be some kind of clue in your room and decided that searching it was next on his to-do list. Though he knew he was grasping at straws, he did it anyway.
Opening the door to your room, he smiled at the poster near your bed. It was the one he’d gotten you for Christmas last year. It was a kind of gag gift—it was his favorite band. (His real gift had been much more thoughtful.)
He began his search at your desk, digging through the mess of papers splayed out on the wood surface. His brows furrowed when he found one paper in particular. It looked like… a love poem?
The way your hair looks in the morning
The way your laugh adds life to moments boring
The way your breath hits my neck when you’re standing just behind me
Reaching over to grab something off the table
A lore book, of all things to be
And the way your eyes light up when you look into mine
I swear I almost see a hint of love
Behind those piercing starlights
Your lips on mine is what I need
Did you hear me? 
I said kiss me, you fool!
We’ve not got much time
In this line of life 
And I need you at my side.
Dean didn’t know if the poem would be considered “good” in the public eye, but he knew it made his heart clench. You were in love? But… with whom?
To him, the words were beautiful, and the thought that you wrote them about someone else broke his fucking heart. He knew there were no clues to your whereabouts in the next poem, but of course, he read it anyway.
I think of you when I drive and spot a classic car
I think of you when I eat a cheeseburger 
And I’ll turn it upside down when I’m missing you
I think of you when I hear a Zepplin song
And I turn the music up when I’m not with you
I think of you when I see anyone wear flannel
Or a leather jacket that’s clearly a size or two too big
And I love to think of you
It just makes sense to me
I love to picture you beside me
At night when I can’t sleep
Or when I get scared of what I’m facing
I think of what you would do
Day or night
Night, day, or noon 
I always think of you
Whoever this mystery person was, they were fucking lucky. Dean had never felt so jealous in his entire life. He always thought you two had a “will they won’t they” side to your relationship but at that moment he realized it was completely one-sided. The fun, flirty side to all your late-night conversations had just been friendly. Two friends playfully talking as if they both wanted to be more.
Of course Dean wanted to be more. Of course he knew he wanted to be with you. But now? Now he knew he’d either missed his chance or he simply never had one.
You were in love with someone that wasn’t him. And the love you’d been writing about wasn’t the kind someone gets over. It’s the kind that sticks—for life. The kind that people write songs about, the kind that people fight wars over, and the kind that makes people go crazy in the best way. 
He knew he’d found that love when he first fell for you, but it turned out you had found that love in someone else.
“Anything?” Sam asked, walking into your room.
“Uhm,” Dean cleared his throat, hoping his eyes didn’t look as cloudy as they felt. “No, nothing important. Just some love letters or something.” 
Sam furrowed his brows and picked up one of the poems off the desk, one that Dean had not read yet. As the taller Winchester read what you wrote his eyes grew wide, practically popping out of his head as his mouth fell open.
“Oh my fucking god!” Sam exclaimed. “Y/n’s in love with you?” He looked at his older brother in shock.
“Me? No, these poems are about whoever she’s been seeing recently, they aren’t about me. We’re just friends.”
“You haven’t read this one yet, have you?” Sam asked with a small smile before handing it over.
You asked me today; “what’s your favorite color?”
And I just shrugged; “I don’t know, blue?”
Cause how could I have said the truth?
The color I love most in the world
The color that brings me nothing but joy
In this sad, awful little life
Is the green and hazel of your eyes
The emerald diamonds that shine
When you look into the sun
The soft hazel that looks over at me
When we’re reading in the library
How can I tell you all of this 
When the question is so simple and plain
How do I go into such specific detail
About the color I’m in love with
Without freaking you out
Or scaring you away
Or making you laugh at me
Because I know your favorite color 
And I know it’s not the color of my eyes
“You…You think this is really about me?” Dean asked his little brother, hoping Sam was right.
“Dean in all my life I have never seen anyone but you eat a burger bun-side-down,” Sam chuckled a little having read one of the poems Dean had read earlier.
“Oh my god.” Dean furrowed his brows, looking back down at the paper in his hands. “We’ve gotta find her, Sammy, I gotta tell her!”
“Tell her that you went through her stuff while she was gone? Don’t think that’s the best idea.”
“No! Tell her I’m in love with her! Tell her that the color of her eyes is my favorite fucking color too! And every time her favorite band comes on the radio I turn it up, and every time I see a woman wearing her type of clothes I think about her. Tell her that all I do every waking moment of every day is wish I was with her, wish I was holding her in my arms so I could never let go.”
“I think you just told her.” Sam smiled, nodding to where you now stood at your door. Dean turned around quickly. Tears of joy stung your eyes as you looked at him and smiled.
“You love me?” you asked.
“More than anything,” Dean admitted as he hurried to you. He wrapped you in a tight hug, kissing your temple quickly before he tucked your head under his chin. “I’m so glad you’re okay!”
“I’m sorry I didn’t call, it’s a long story,” you mumbled. “When vampires ban together with twisted humans, they’re a lot harder to kill.”
“We were really worried about you,” Dean admitted. “Like…fucking terrified.”
“Is that why you decided to dig through my personal shit?” you asked. You were one hundred percent kidding, but Dean was still nervous.
“Yeah…sorry,” Sam cringe-clenched his teeth, “it was my fault.”
You and Dean pulled back from the hug, but you took his hand in yours as you narrowed your gaze at the younger hunter.
“I know your tell, Sammy,” you said. “But it’s sweet that you’re trying to cover for Dean.” 
“Yep, all Dean’s fault,” Sam admitted before heading for the door, giving his brother a pat on the shoulder on his way out. “Good luck.”
“Look, I didn’t mean to invade your privacy, I swear,” Dean told you quickly. “I was looking for something that might tell me where the hell you were.”
“How many did you read?” you asked.
“Three,” Dean sighed, still thinking you were pissed at him.
“So…you know, then? That I’m hopelessly in love with you? And you think I’d be mad at you for looking through my stuff?”
“I mean, I know you value your privacy.”
“Dean,” you started, putting a hand on his cheek and turning his face to look down at you, “would you please just fuckin’ kiss me already?”
He seemed almost surprised by your question but he quickly smiled as he bent down and kissed you. His one hand stayed clasped in yours while his other went to your waist and then trailed to your lower back. The hand you had on his cheek went to the upper back of his neck so you could tangle your fingers in his hair. The smiles on both of your faces only grew before you both pulled away.
“Wow, I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” Dean mumbled before he let out a short, breathy laugh.
“Me too,” you replied. 
**
You’d been back home for a few days now and you had explained the whole missing situation to the brothers. You told them how the simple vampire hunt turned sour quickly when you realized the small-town’s sheriff was in on it and helped the vamps with making humans just disappear. They’d made you as a hunter instantly and held you hostage for a few days before you killed your way out. 
Dean never left your side so when he saw a new poem on your desk his brows furrowed. Curiosity got the better of him as he sat down to read it.
My god aren't I lucky
Now that you're holding me at night
And that first time we kissed in the doorway
I could’ve sworn I was kissing pure sunshine 
When your lips hit mine it was better
Then I could’ve ever imagined
And the love poems I've written became
Manifested words of affirmation
The butterflies in my stomach fluttered
And the blood rushed to my head
Think I could stay like this forever
Won't overthink it, I’ll just go and kiss you instead
“Well, well, well.” You came up behind him, and put your hands on his shoulders before you trailed them down and clasped them together over his chest, leaning your chin on his shoulder and kissing his cheek. “Look who’s digging through my shit again.” You smiled against his skin. He turned his head and placed a deep kiss on your lips.
“I’m not even sorry this time, because I think this might be the best thing I’ve ever read.”
“I love you,” you said and kissed him again.
“I love you so fuckin’ much,” he mumbled back.
398 notes · View notes
Poems
main masterlist | supernatural masterlist
summary: dean searches your room when you’re missing, and the love letters he finds break his heart
pairing: dean winchester x female reader
rating: R for language
word count: 1.9k (1.5k excluding poems) 
warnings: reader goes/is missing, language, 
author’s note: please don’t make fun of my “poetry”, i know it’s not good that’s why i don't write poems lol
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“Hey Dean, I’m working a case near Wichita so I’ll probably be back home by the end of the week. See you soon, bye.”
“That’s the last I heard from her,” Dean told his brother after playing him the message you left. “It’s been over a week, I’m gettin’ worried here!”
“Do you know what kinda case she was working?” Sam asked, Dean shook his head. “Okay, well I’m sure she’s fine, Dean. Let’s call the hospitals around where she is and ask if she’s there.”
“You do that, I’m gonna head to Wichita,” Dean replied.
“I think we should call the hospitals first, Dean. She said she was near Wichita, she could be anywhere from here to there!”
Dean sighed but agreed with Sam’s plan.
**
The boys had no luck with any of the hospitals so they decided to head over to Wichita and look for you. They searched for a few days before heading back to the bunker, hoping you might be there waiting for them. You weren’t, of course, and that only made their worry grow.
You’d been missing for nearly two weeks!  
Dean thought there might be some kind of clue in your room and decided that searching it was next on his to-do list. Though he knew he was grasping at straws, he did it anyway.
Opening the door to your room, he smiled at the poster near your bed. It was the one he’d gotten you for Christmas last year. It was a kind of gag gift—it was his favorite band. (His real gift had been much more thoughtful.)
He began his search at your desk, digging through the mess of papers splayed out on the wood surface. His brows furrowed when he found one paper in particular. It looked like… a love poem?
The way your hair looks in the morning
The way your laugh adds life to moments boring
The way your breath hits my neck when you’re standing just behind me
Reaching over to grab something off the table
A lore book, of all things to be
And the way your eyes light up when you look into mine
I swear I almost see a hint of love
Behind those piercing starlights
Your lips on mine is what I need
Did you hear me? 
I said kiss me, you fool!
We’ve not got much time
In this line of life 
And I need you at my side.
Dean didn’t know if the poem would be considered “good” in the public eye, but he knew it made his heart clench. You were in love? But… with whom?
To him, the words were beautiful, and the thought that you wrote them about someone else broke his fucking heart. He knew there were no clues to your whereabouts in the next poem, but of course, he read it anyway.
I think of you when I drive and spot a classic car
I think of you when I eat a cheeseburger 
And I’ll turn it upside down when I’m missing you
I think of you when I hear a Zepplin song
And I turn the music up when I’m not with you
I think of you when I see anyone wear flannel
Or a leather jacket that’s clearly a size or two too big
And I love to think of you
It just makes sense to me
I love to picture you beside me
At night when I can’t sleep
Or when I get scared of what I’m facing
I think of what you would do
Day or night
Night, day, or noon 
I always think of you
Whoever this mystery person was, they were fucking lucky. Dean had never felt so jealous in his entire life. He always thought you two had a “will they won’t they” side to your relationship but at that moment he realized it was completely one-sided. The fun, flirty side to all your late-night conversations had just been friendly. Two friends playfully talking as if they both wanted to be more.
Of course Dean wanted to be more. Of course he knew he wanted to be with you. But now? Now he knew he’d either missed his chance or he simply never had one.
You were in love with someone that wasn’t him. And the love you’d been writing about wasn’t the kind someone gets over. It’s the kind that sticks—for life. The kind that people write songs about, the kind that people fight wars over, and the kind that makes people go crazy in the best way. 
He knew he’d found that love when he first fell for you, but it turned out you had found that love in someone else.
“Anything?” Sam asked, walking into your room.
“Uhm,” Dean cleared his throat, hoping his eyes didn’t look as cloudy as they felt. “No, nothing important. Just some love letters or something.” 
Sam furrowed his brows and picked up one of the poems off the desk, one that Dean had not read yet. As the taller Winchester read what you wrote his eyes grew wide, practically popping out of his head as his mouth fell open.
“Oh my fucking god!” Sam exclaimed. “Y/n’s in love with you?” He looked at his older brother in shock.
“Me? No, these poems are about whoever she’s been seeing recently, they aren’t about me. We’re just friends.”
“You haven’t read this one yet, have you?” Sam asked with a small smile before handing it over.
You asked me today; “what’s your favorite color?”
And I just shrugged; “I don’t know, blue?”
Cause how could I have said the truth?
The color I love most in the world
The color that brings me nothing but joy
In this sad, awful little life
Is the green and hazel of your eyes
The emerald diamonds that shine
When you look into the sun
The soft hazel that looks over at me
When we’re reading in the library
How can I tell you all of this 
When the question is so simple and plain
How do I go into such specific detail
About the color I’m in love with
Without freaking you out
Or scaring you away
Or making you laugh at me
Because I know your favorite color 
And I know it’s not the color of my eyes
“You…You think this is really about me?” Dean asked his little brother, hoping Sam was right.
“Dean in all my life I have never seen anyone but you eat a burger bun-side-down,” Sam chuckled a little having read one of the poems Dean had read earlier.
“Oh my god.” Dean furrowed his brows, looking back down at the paper in his hands. “We’ve gotta find her, Sammy, I gotta tell her!”
“Tell her that you went through her stuff while she was gone? Don’t think that’s the best idea.”
“No! Tell her I’m in love with her! Tell her that the color of her eyes is my favorite fucking color too! And every time her favorite band comes on the radio I turn it up, and every time I see a woman wearing her type of clothes I think about her. Tell her that all I do every waking moment of every day is wish I was with her, wish I was holding her in my arms so I could never let go.”
“I think you just told her.” Sam smiled, nodding to where you now stood at your door. Dean turned around quickly. Tears of joy stung your eyes as you looked at him and smiled.
“You love me?” you asked.
“More than anything,” Dean admitted as he hurried to you. He wrapped you in a tight hug, kissing your temple quickly before he tucked your head under his chin. “I’m so glad you’re okay!”
“I’m sorry I didn’t call, it’s a long story,” you mumbled. “When vampires ban together with twisted humans, they’re a lot harder to kill.”
“We were really worried about you,” Dean admitted. “Like…fucking terrified.”
“Is that why you decided to dig through my personal shit?” you asked. You were one hundred percent kidding, but Dean was still nervous.
“Yeah…sorry,” Sam cringe-clenched his teeth, “it was my fault.”
You and Dean pulled back from the hug, but you took his hand in yours as you narrowed your gaze at the younger hunter.
“I know your tell, Sammy,” you said. “But it’s sweet that you’re trying to cover for Dean.” 
“Yep, all Dean’s fault,” Sam admitted before heading for the door, giving his brother a pat on the shoulder on his way out. “Good luck.”
“Look, I didn’t mean to invade your privacy, I swear,” Dean told you quickly. “I was looking for something that might tell me where the hell you were.”
“How many did you read?” you asked.
“Three,” Dean sighed, still thinking you were pissed at him.
“So…you know, then? That I’m hopelessly in love with you? And you think I’d be mad at you for looking through my stuff?”
“I mean, I know you value your privacy.”
“Dean,” you started, putting a hand on his cheek and turning his face to look down at you, “would you please just fuckin’ kiss me already?”
He seemed almost surprised by your question but he quickly smiled as he bent down and kissed you. His one hand stayed clasped in yours while his other went to your waist and then trailed to your lower back. The hand you had on his cheek went to the upper back of his neck so you could tangle your fingers in his hair. The smiles on both of your faces only grew before you both pulled away.
“Wow, I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” Dean mumbled before he let out a short, breathy laugh.
“Me too,” you replied. 
**
You’d been back home for a few days now and you had explained the whole missing situation to the brothers. You told them how the simple vampire hunt turned sour quickly when you realized the small-town’s sheriff was in on it and helped the vamps with making humans just disappear. They’d made you as a hunter instantly and held you hostage for a few days before you killed your way out. 
Dean never left your side so when he saw a new poem on your desk his brows furrowed. Curiosity got the better of him as he sat down to read it.
My god aren't I lucky
Now that you're holding me at night
And that first time we kissed in the doorway
I could’ve sworn I was kissing pure sunshine 
When your lips hit mine it was better
Then I could’ve ever imagined
And the love poems I've written became
Manifested words of affirmation
The butterflies in my stomach fluttered
And the blood rushed to my head
Think I could stay like this forever
Won't overthink it, I’ll just go and kiss you instead
“Well, well, well.” You came up behind him, and put your hands on his shoulders before you trailed them down and clasped them together over his chest, leaning your chin on his shoulder and kissing his cheek. “Look who’s digging through my shit again.” You smiled against his skin. He turned his head and placed a deep kiss on your lips.
“I’m not even sorry this time, because I think this might be the best thing I’ve ever read.”
“I love you,” you said and kissed him again.
“I love you so fuckin’ much,” he mumbled back.
398 notes · View notes
I’m glad you enjoyed reading this even if you haven’t watched the movie yet! I honestly 100% recommend watching it!!! I’ve seen it quite a few times and (if you enjoy “shitty” gore horror movies) it’s honestly so much fun!! Jensen is incredible!!
The “I hope he drops dead” is definitely foreshadowing! (It also fits perfectly with the song, thanks to Conan Gray and his love for putting dark themes in his lyrics lol)
And YES! I’m glad you caught what the “important thing” really was! 😱 Sooo creepy when you think about it — he wanted to get the ex out of the way before spending a minute longer with her! … Or maybe that little voice in his head was the true “villain” and he doesn’t even realize what he did!! 😱😱😱
I hope this fic encourages you to watch the movie lol!! It’s honestly so worth watching!! 🤩💞💞
Lonely Dancers
main masterlist | misc. jackles characters masterlist
SPOILERS! this story is set after the events of the movie and it (vaguely) spoils the ending
summary: when your boyfriend cheats on you, it leads you to tom hanniger
pairing: tom hanniger x female reader
rating: R for language
word count: 1.7k
warnings: language, cheating, mentions of death/murder, hearing voices (briefly, very end of the fic)
author’s note: happy valentine’s day! i wrote (and barely edited) this very quickly because i wanted to publish it while it was still valentine’s day in my timezone! enjoy!
music: lonely dancers by conan gray — incredible song by an incredible artist! go pre-save the upcoming album!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Tears were still clouding your eyes as you sat at the bar. You’d driven here after walking in on your boyfriend with another woman—your two best friends had both betrayed you in the most gutwrenching way.
“Crappy Valentines?” the man a few seats down from you asked.
“Somethin’ like that,” you scoffed.
“Well–”
“Look no offense, but I’m really not in the mood to be hit on, okay? So kindly fuck off and let me drink in peace.”
He nodded curtly; “Ten-four.”
You finished the glass in front of you and gestured to the bartender for another. You downed that one quickly and again asked for another immediately after.
“Cheated on, huh?” the man from before asked and you finally turned to look at him. He had a small, sad smile on his plush, pink lips and his green eyes seemed to look at you with sympathy. 
“What makes you say that?” you asked.
“I, uh, I know the look,” he replied. “How about the next rounds are on me?” he offered, you smiled a little in thanks. “I’m Tom, by the way.” You told him your name, figuring it was the least you could do.
“So, Tom, I’m guessing your Valentine’s Day hasn’t been much better than mine?” you asked.
“What makes you say that?” he quoted you with a bit of a smirk.
“You’re drinking alone in a bar attached to a cheap-ass motel,” you retorted. 
“Touché,” he laughed. “So maybe my day’s been shitty too… or maybe I just came here to hit on the lonely hot chicks.”
You narrowed your gaze at him, stifling a laugh; “Maybe. But something tells me you came here for the booze and not the chicks.” His smile faded a little at that but he was quick to plaster it back onto his face. “So how about we drink together for a bit and when I’m buzzed enough we head over to the dance floor and act like our day hasn’t been hell?” you suggested. 
“Sounds like a plan, sweetheart.”
You both got to talking and eventually, you told him the whole story. He held back most of the comments he wanted to make; hope he drops fuckin’ dead, for example, or who in their right mind would do that to such a gorgeous fuckin’ woman!?
“Well, he sounds like a major dick,” he commented. 
You listened to his story too, though he clearly wasn’t being as open with you as you were with him. But, you couldn’t blame him. His issue seemed to be about trauma linked to the actual day and less about something that happened recently.
After nearly half an hour of talking, he took your hand and led you to the beat-down jukebox in the corner.
“Does this shitty thing even work?” you scoffed. 
“Let’s hope it does or this dancing thing is gonna be pretty awkward,” he joked. He managed to get a song playing. “May I have this dance?” He turned from the jukebox and looked at you, but quickly noticed the tears welling in your eyes. “Shit, you okay?”
You sighed with a nod; “This was kind of… our song,” you admitted.
“Of all the songs for me to pick,” he scoffed quietly, mentally kicking himself. “I… don’t know how to switch it.”
“That’s okay,” you said softly, a sad smile gracing your lips though the tears stayed in your eyes.
“How about we dance to it anyway?” he offered. “That way it’ll become our song and the next time you hear it you won’t think of that cheating bastard, you’ll think of the somewhat good-looking guy you met while drinking yourself half to death?” He smirked and wiggled his brows a bit, making you let out a laugh. 
“Somewhat good-looking, huh? Have you looked in any kinda mirror recently?”
He shrugged, still smirking; “Didn’t wanna seem too cocky; had to downplay my looks a little, gauge your reaction.” You let him put his hands on your hips as you both started swaying to the music.
“That so?” You put your hands on his shoulders before you trailed them to the back of his neck. “And what’d my reaction tell you, handsome?”
“That this song is now officially ours,” he replied. “And every time you hear it you’re gonna remember my handsome face instead of that ugly asshole’s.”
“Thanks for that, Tom.” You smiled up at him, continuing to let him guide your movements. “I’d much rather think of you.”
You rested your head on his shoulder and his grip on your waist changed to wrap around your torso. The song was slow so he didn’t feel the need to change anything about the way you two were dancing—he just held you and gently swayed back and forth with the rhythm.
When the song ended the next one that played was more up-beat and “danceable” so you pulled away a little.
“Oh my god, I love this song!” you exclaimed, beginning to dance a more energetically while you still kept your hands on him.
He chuckled at your reaction and began dancing more too. His hands went back to your waist and he twirled you around. With your back pressed against his chest he turned up the heat a little; trailing his hands forward and up your body slowly. You smiled widely, enjoying the feeling of his touch over the thin fabric of your long-sleeved crop top. He twirled you back around, your hands catching your weight on his chest.
He looked down into your eyes; “Just thought I should gauge your reaction again.”
“And what’s it saying this time?” You smiled up at him, keeping your hands on his chest.
“That it might be okay if I kiss you right now?” 
You nodded before he leaned down to place a kiss on your eager lips. Before he could, however, your phone rang and you pulled back to check it.
“Damn it,” you mumbled, seeing the name.
“It’s him, isn’t it?” Tom asked and you nodded. You were about to answer but he whipped the phone from your hands and hit decline. “Stop,” he said when you reached for the phone, “forget that guy! He clearly doesn’t know how to love a woman like you—someone so gorgeous, funny… talented dancer.” The last one made you laugh through the sting of fresh tears. “And I hope he drops fuckin’ dead! How about we just keep dancing so I don’t have to see those tears slip down your pretty face, huh?”
“Guess I’m all yours tonight,” you replied.
“That’s more like it!” He took you back into his arms before he kissed you. 
**
You woke up the next morning to the sound of someone knocking on your apartment door. You sighed and grabbed your pepper spray before going to answer it. When you looked through the peephole, however, you smiled and placed the weapon down on the table by your front entrance.
“Hey Tom, what’re you doing here?” You smiled after you opened the door. He held out the bouquet of roses he had been hiding behind his back.
“Happy belated Valentine’s Day,” he said. “I hope I made it a little less shitty for you and that you won’t hate this holiday the way I do.”
“Thank you,” you replied as you took them from him. You stepped aside so he could walk in. “I’m gonna find a vase for these, why don’t you make yourself comfortable?”
He nodded and made his way to your couch. He knew the layout of your home and where you lived because he had driven you home last night (well, earlier that day, technically) and made sure you got inside safely. You had offered to let him spend the night but he had declined politely, saying that as much as he enjoyed your company he didn’t want the two of you to become a one-night-stand. “Besides,” he had said, “I’ve got something important I’ve gotta do.”
The idea that Tom’s ‘important thing’ may have been just getting you flowers made your heart swoon in a way that you’d never felt before.  
You hurried and put the flowers in a vase before you went over and sat next to Tom on the couch. He smiled at you before you turned on the TV.
“Wanna watch something?” you asked but your eyes widened when you looked at the screen; “Oh my god.”
“Two individuals brutally murdered last night…” the news reporter went on to say the names of your ex and his new girlfriend (your former best friend). “Officials say it was a robbery gone wrong, due to a missing engagement ring presumably still in the romantic, heart-shaped box it was purchased in barely two weeks ago from a local jeweler. No suspects are in custody—” 
Tom shut the TV off as tears began rolling down your cheeks.
“Th-They’re both dead…” you barely whispered. The thought of the two people you cared most about being killed for no fucking reason made a scream erupt from your throat. Tom pulled you into his chest and you sobbed, gripping his shirt with all your might.
“I-I’m so fucking sorry,” Tom whispered. 
**
After a (very long) session of tears and Tom’s gentle shushing, Tom was making breakfast in your kitchen as you sat at the table. 
“It could’ve been me,” you said. “I-If he hadn’t cheated on me, if we hadn’t broken up, I would’ve been in her shoes. I’d be dead.”
“Thank god you aren’t,” Tom said. 
“Maybe if I had answered his call–”
“Don’t think like that,” he interrupted. “Just be grateful that you weren’t there and that you’re okay. This isn’t your fault at all in any fucking way, you understand me? It was just a robbery gone wrong and as tragic as that is, that isn’t on you.”
You smiled a little, though tears were still slipping down your cheeks. He had a point and even if he was technically still a stranger, he seemed to care about you. 
“We’ve got her now, Tom. She’s all ours.”
“What’d you say?” Tom looked at you over his shoulder.
“Nothing.” You smiled sadly at him. “Just…thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.”
95 notes · View notes
Lonely Dancers
main masterlist | misc. jackles characters masterlist
SPOILERS! this story is set after the events of the movie and it (vaguely) spoils the ending
summary: when your boyfriend cheats on you, it leads you to tom hanniger
pairing: tom hanniger x female reader
rating: R for language
word count: 1.7k
warnings: language, cheating, mentions of death/murder, hearing voices (briefly, very end of the fic)
author’s note: happy valentine’s day! i wrote (and barely edited) this very quickly because i wanted to publish it while it was still valentine’s day in my timezone! enjoy!
music: lonely dancers by conan gray — incredible song by an incredible artist! go pre-save the upcoming album!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Tears were still clouding your eyes as you sat at the bar. You’d driven here after walking in on your boyfriend with another woman—your two best friends had both betrayed you in the most gutwrenching way.
“Crappy Valentines?” the man a few seats down from you asked.
“Somethin’ like that,” you scoffed.
“Well–”
“Look no offense, but I’m really not in the mood to be hit on, okay? So kindly fuck off and let me drink in peace.”
He nodded curtly; “Ten-four.”
You finished the glass in front of you and gestured to the bartender for another. You downed that one quickly and again asked for another immediately after.
“Cheated on, huh?” the man from before asked and you finally turned to look at him. He had a small, sad smile on his plush, pink lips and his green eyes seemed to look at you with sympathy. 
“What makes you say that?” you asked.
“I, uh, I know the look,” he replied. “How about the next rounds are on me?” he offered, you smiled a little in thanks. “I’m Tom, by the way.” You told him your name, figuring it was the least you could do.
“So, Tom, I’m guessing your Valentine’s Day hasn’t been much better than mine?” you asked.
“What makes you say that?” he quoted you with a bit of a smirk.
“You’re drinking alone in a bar attached to a cheap-ass motel,” you retorted. 
“Touché,” he laughed. “So maybe my day’s been shitty too… or maybe I just came here to hit on the lonely hot chicks.”
You narrowed your gaze at him, stifling a laugh; “Maybe. But something tells me you came here for the booze and not the chicks.” His smile faded a little at that but he was quick to plaster it back onto his face. “So how about we drink together for a bit and when I’m buzzed enough we head over to the dance floor and act like our day hasn’t been hell?” you suggested. 
“Sounds like a plan, sweetheart.”
You both got to talking and eventually, you told him the whole story. He held back most of the comments he wanted to make; hope he drops fuckin’ dead, for example, or who in their right mind would do that to such a gorgeous fuckin’ woman!?
“Well, he sounds like a major dick,” he commented. 
You listened to his story too, though he clearly wasn’t being as open with you as you were with him. But, you couldn’t blame him. His issue seemed to be about trauma linked to the actual day and less about something that happened recently.
After nearly half an hour of talking, he took your hand and led you to the beat-down jukebox in the corner.
“Does this shitty thing even work?” you scoffed. 
“Let’s hope it does or this dancing thing is gonna be pretty awkward,” he joked. He managed to get a song playing. “May I have this dance?” He turned from the jukebox and looked at you, but quickly noticed the tears welling in your eyes. “Shit, you okay?”
You sighed with a nod; “This was kind of… our song,” you admitted.
“Of all the songs for me to pick,” he scoffed quietly, mentally kicking himself. “I… don’t know how to switch it.”
“That’s okay,” you said softly, a sad smile gracing your lips though the tears stayed in your eyes.
“How about we dance to it anyway?” he offered. “That way it’ll become our song and the next time you hear it you won’t think of that cheating bastard, you’ll think of the somewhat good-looking guy you met while drinking yourself half to death?” He smirked and wiggled his brows a bit, making you let out a laugh. 
“Somewhat good-looking, huh? Have you looked in any kinda mirror recently?”
He shrugged, still smirking; “Didn’t wanna seem too cocky; had to downplay my looks a little, gauge your reaction.” You let him put his hands on your hips as you both started swaying to the music.
“That so?” You put your hands on his shoulders before you trailed them to the back of his neck. “And what’d my reaction tell you, handsome?”
“That this song is now officially ours,” he replied. “And every time you hear it you’re gonna remember my handsome face instead of that ugly asshole’s.”
“Thanks for that, Tom.” You smiled up at him, continuing to let him guide your movements. “I’d much rather think of you.”
You rested your head on his shoulder and his grip on your waist changed to wrap around your torso. The song was slow so he didn’t feel the need to change anything about the way you two were dancing—he just held you and gently swayed back and forth with the rhythm.
When the song ended the next one that played was more up-beat and “danceable” so you pulled away a little.
“Oh my god, I love this song!” you exclaimed, beginning to dance a more energetically while you still kept your hands on him.
He chuckled at your reaction and began dancing more too. His hands went back to your waist and he twirled you around. With your back pressed against his chest he turned up the heat a little; trailing his hands forward and up your body slowly. You smiled widely, enjoying the feeling of his touch over the thin fabric of your long-sleeved crop top. He twirled you back around, your hands catching your weight on his chest.
He looked down into your eyes; “Just thought I should gauge your reaction again.”
“And what’s it saying this time?” You smiled up at him, keeping your hands on his chest.
“That it might be okay if I kiss you right now?” 
You nodded before he leaned down to place a kiss on your eager lips. Before he could, however, your phone rang and you pulled back to check it.
“Damn it,” you mumbled, seeing the name.
“It’s him, isn’t it?” Tom asked and you nodded. You were about to answer but he whipped the phone from your hands and hit decline. “Stop,” he said when you reached for the phone, “forget that guy! He clearly doesn’t know how to love a woman like you—someone so gorgeous, funny… talented dancer.” The last one made you laugh through the sting of fresh tears. “And I hope he drops fuckin’ dead! How about we just keep dancing so I don’t have to see those tears slip down your pretty face, huh?”
“Guess I’m all yours tonight,” you replied.
“That’s more like it!” He took you back into his arms before he kissed you. 
**
You woke up the next morning to the sound of someone knocking on your apartment door. You sighed and grabbed your pepper spray before going to answer it. When you looked through the peephole, however, you smiled and placed the weapon down on the table by your front entrance.
“Hey Tom, what’re you doing here?” You smiled after you opened the door. He held out the bouquet of roses he had been hiding behind his back.
“Happy belated Valentine’s Day,” he said. “I hope I made it a little less shitty for you and that you won’t hate this holiday the way I do.”
“Thank you,” you replied as you took them from him. You stepped aside so he could walk in. “I’m gonna find a vase for these, why don’t you make yourself comfortable?”
He nodded and made his way to your couch. He knew the layout of your home and where you lived because he had driven you home last night (well, earlier that day, technically) and made sure you got inside safely. You had offered to let him spend the night but he had declined politely, saying that as much as he enjoyed your company he didn’t want the two of you to become a one-night-stand. “Besides,” he had said, “I’ve got something important I’ve gotta do.”
The idea that Tom’s ‘important thing’ may have been just getting you flowers made your heart swoon in a way that you’d never felt before.  
You hurried and put the flowers in a vase before you went over and sat next to Tom on the couch. He smiled at you before you turned on the TV.
“Wanna watch something?” you asked but your eyes widened when you looked at the screen; “Oh my god.”
“Two individuals brutally murdered last night…” the news reporter went on to say the names of your ex and his new girlfriend (your former best friend). “Officials say it was a robbery gone wrong, due to a missing engagement ring presumably still in the romantic, heart-shaped box it was purchased in barely two weeks ago from a local jeweler. No suspects are in custody—” 
Tom shut the TV off as tears began rolling down your cheeks.
“Th-They’re both dead…” you barely whispered. The thought of the two people you cared most about being killed for no fucking reason made a scream erupt from your throat. Tom pulled you into his chest and you sobbed, gripping his shirt with all your might.
“I-I’m so fucking sorry,” Tom whispered. 
**
After a (very long) session of tears and Tom’s gentle shushing, Tom was making breakfast in your kitchen as you sat at the table. 
“It could’ve been me,” you said. “I-If he hadn’t cheated on me, if we hadn’t broken up, I would’ve been in her shoes. I’d be dead.”
“Thank god you aren’t,” Tom said. 
“Maybe if I had answered his call–”
“Don’t think like that,” he interrupted. “Just be grateful that you weren’t there and that you’re okay. This isn’t your fault at all in any fucking way, you understand me? It was just a robbery gone wrong and as tragic as that is, that isn’t on you.”
You smiled a little, though tears were still slipping down your cheeks. He had a point and even if he was technically still a stranger, he seemed to care about you. 
“We’ve got her now, Tom. She’s all ours.”
“What’d you say?” Tom looked at you over his shoulder.
“Nothing.” You smiled sadly at him. “Just…thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.”
95 notes · View notes
Lonely Dancers
main masterlist | misc. jackles characters masterlist
SPOILERS! this story is set after the events of the movie and it (vaguely) spoils the ending
summary: when your boyfriend cheats on you, it leads you to tom hanniger
pairing: tom hanniger x female reader
rating: R for language
word count: 1.7k
warnings: language, cheating, mentions of death/murder, hearing voices (briefly, very end of the fic)
author’s note: happy valentine’s day! i wrote (and barely edited) this very quickly because i wanted to publish it while it was still valentine’s day in my timezone! enjoy!
music: lonely dancers by conan gray — incredible song by an incredible artist! go pre-save the upcoming album!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Tears were still clouding your eyes as you sat at the bar. You’d driven here after walking in on your boyfriend with another woman—your two best friends had both betrayed you in the most gutwrenching way.
“Crappy Valentines?” the man a few seats down from you asked.
“Somethin’ like that,” you scoffed.
“Well–”
“Look no offense, but I’m really not in the mood to be hit on, okay? So kindly fuck off and let me drink in peace.”
He nodded curtly; “Ten-four.”
You finished the glass in front of you and gestured to the bartender for another. You downed that one quickly and again asked for another immediately after.
“Cheated on, huh?” the man from before asked and you finally turned to look at him. He had a small, sad smile on his plush, pink lips and his green eyes seemed to look at you with sympathy. 
“What makes you say that?” you asked.
“I, uh, I know the look,” he replied. “How about the next rounds are on me?” he offered, you smiled a little in thanks. “I’m Tom, by the way.” You told him your name, figuring it was the least you could do.
“So, Tom, I’m guessing your Valentine’s Day hasn’t been much better than mine?” you asked.
“What makes you say that?” he quoted you with a bit of a smirk.
“You’re drinking alone in a bar attached to a cheap-ass motel,” you retorted. 
“Touché,” he laughed. “So maybe my day’s been shitty too… or maybe I just came here to hit on the lonely hot chicks.”
You narrowed your gaze at him, stifling a laugh; “Maybe. But something tells me you came here for the booze and not the chicks.” His smile faded a little at that but he was quick to plaster it back onto his face. “So how about we drink together for a bit and when I’m buzzed enough we head over to the dance floor and act like our day hasn’t been hell?” you suggested. 
“Sounds like a plan, sweetheart.”
You both got to talking and eventually, you told him the whole story. He held back most of the comments he wanted to make; hope he drops fuckin’ dead, for example, or who in their right mind would do that to such a gorgeous fuckin’ woman!?
“Well, he sounds like a major dick,” he commented. 
You listened to his story too, though he clearly wasn’t being as open with you as you were with him. But, you couldn’t blame him. His issue seemed to be about trauma linked to the actual day and less about something that happened recently.
After nearly half an hour of talking, he took your hand and led you to the beat-down jukebox in the corner.
“Does this shitty thing even work?” you scoffed. 
“Let’s hope it does or this dancing thing is gonna be pretty awkward,” he joked. He managed to get a song playing. “May I have this dance?” He turned from the jukebox and looked at you, but quickly noticed the tears welling in your eyes. “Shit, you okay?”
You sighed with a nod; “This was kind of… our song,” you admitted.
“Of all the songs for me to pick,” he scoffed quietly, mentally kicking himself. “I… don’t know how to switch it.”
“That’s okay,” you said softly, a sad smile gracing your lips though the tears stayed in your eyes.
“How about we dance to it anyway?” he offered. “That way it’ll become our song and the next time you hear it you won’t think of that cheating bastard, you’ll think of the somewhat good-looking guy you met while drinking yourself half to death?” He smirked and wiggled his brows a bit, making you let out a laugh. 
“Somewhat good-looking, huh? Have you looked in any kinda mirror recently?”
He shrugged, still smirking; “Didn’t wanna seem too cocky; had to downplay my looks a little, gauge your reaction.” You let him put his hands on your hips as you both started swaying to the music.
“That so?” You put your hands on his shoulders before you trailed them to the back of his neck. “And what’d my reaction tell you, handsome?”
“That this song is now officially ours,” he replied. “And every time you hear it you’re gonna remember my handsome face instead of that ugly asshole’s.”
“Thanks for that, Tom.” You smiled up at him, continuing to let him guide your movements. “I’d much rather think of you.”
You rested your head on his shoulder and his grip on your waist changed to wrap around your torso. The song was slow so he didn’t feel the need to change anything about the way you two were dancing—he just held you and gently swayed back and forth with the rhythm.
When the song ended the next one that played was more up-beat and “danceable” so you pulled away a little.
“Oh my god, I love this song!” you exclaimed, beginning to dance a more energetically while you still kept your hands on him.
He chuckled at your reaction and began dancing more too. His hands went back to your waist and he twirled you around. With your back pressed against his chest he turned up the heat a little; trailing his hands forward and up your body slowly. You smiled widely, enjoying the feeling of his touch over the thin fabric of your long-sleeved crop top. He twirled you back around, your hands catching your weight on his chest.
He looked down into your eyes; “Just thought I should gauge your reaction again.”
“And what’s it saying this time?” You smiled up at him, keeping your hands on his chest.
“That it might be okay if I kiss you right now?” 
You nodded before he leaned down to place a kiss on your eager lips. Before he could, however, your phone rang and you pulled back to check it.
“Damn it,” you mumbled, seeing the name.
“It’s him, isn’t it?” Tom asked and you nodded. You were about to answer but he whipped the phone from your hands and hit decline. “Stop,” he said when you reached for the phone, “forget that guy! He clearly doesn’t know how to love a woman like you—someone so gorgeous, funny… talented dancer.” The last one made you laugh through the sting of fresh tears. “And I hope he drops fuckin’ dead! How about we just keep dancing so I don’t have to see those tears slip down your pretty face, huh?”
“Guess I’m all yours tonight,” you replied.
“That’s more like it!” He took you back into his arms before he kissed you. 
**
You woke up the next morning to the sound of someone knocking on your apartment door. You sighed and grabbed your pepper spray before going to answer it. When you looked through the peephole, however, you smiled and placed the weapon down on the table by your front entrance.
“Hey Tom, what’re you doing here?” You smiled after you opened the door. He held out the bouquet of roses he had been hiding behind his back.
“Happy belated Valentine’s Day,” he said. “I hope I made it a little less shitty for you and that you won’t hate this holiday the way I do.”
“Thank you,” you replied as you took them from him. You stepped aside so he could walk in. “I’m gonna find a vase for these, why don’t you make yourself comfortable?”
He nodded and made his way to your couch. He knew the layout of your home and where you lived because he had driven you home last night (well, earlier that day, technically) and made sure you got inside safely. You had offered to let him spend the night but he had declined politely, saying that as much as he enjoyed your company he didn’t want the two of you to become a one-night-stand. “Besides,” he had said, “I’ve got something important I’ve gotta do.”
The idea that Tom’s ‘important thing’ may have been just getting you flowers made your heart swoon in a way that you’d never felt before.  
You hurried and put the flowers in a vase before you went over and sat next to Tom on the couch. He smiled at you before you turned on the TV.
“Wanna watch something?” you asked but your eyes widened when you looked at the screen; “Oh my god.”
“Two individuals brutally murdered last night…” the news reporter went on to say the names of your ex and his new girlfriend (your former best friend). “Officials say it was a robbery gone wrong, due to a missing engagement ring presumably still in the romantic, heart-shaped box it was purchased in barely two weeks ago from a local jeweler. No suspects are in custody—” 
Tom shut the TV off as tears began rolling down your cheeks.
“Th-They’re both dead…” you barely whispered. The thought of the two people you cared most about being killed for no fucking reason made a scream erupt from your throat. Tom pulled you into his chest and you sobbed, gripping his shirt with all your might.
“I-I’m so fucking sorry,” Tom whispered. 
**
After a (very long) session of tears and Tom’s gentle shushing, Tom was making breakfast in your kitchen as you sat at the table. 
“It could’ve been me,” you said. “I-If he hadn’t cheated on me, if we hadn’t broken up, I would’ve been in her shoes. I’d be dead.”
“Thank god you aren’t,” Tom said. 
“Maybe if I had answered his call–”
“Don’t think like that,” he interrupted. “Just be grateful that you weren’t there and that you’re okay. This isn’t your fault at all in any fucking way, you understand me? It was just a robbery gone wrong and as tragic as that is, that isn’t on you.”
You smiled a little, though tears were still slipping down your cheeks. He had a point and even if he was technically still a stranger, he seemed to care about you. 
“We’ve got her now, Tom. She’s all ours.”
“What’d you say?” Tom looked at you over his shoulder.
“Nothing.” You smiled sadly at him. “Just…thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.”
95 notes · View notes
If you haven’t read this yet, you are seriously missing out!! By far one of the greatest Soldier Boy series ever!!! 🤩💞💞
Series Masterlist - Break Me Down
Tumblr media
Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader
Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.
Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…
AN: For those of you who enjoyed “Checkerboard,” here’s the requested prequel series! It’s gonna be a long road to get to that version of Soldier Boy. Technically this is an AU set post-season 3.
Series Tags/Warnings: **Rated M. (18+ only.) Enemies to frenemies to lovers. Angsty, messy, moral quandaries galore. This is a romance, but it’s a dark world with morally gray and dark characters, including Soldier Boy, of course. **Smut, language, misogyny, violence, and other chapter-specific tags.
🎵 Listen While You Read: The BMD Playlist
Chapters:
Prologue
Part 1 - The Game Begins
Part 2 - You Move Me, Baby
Part 3 - Somewhere Down Below
Part 4 - On the Inside Out
Part 5 - Morning, Night & Day
Part 6 - A Hot Meal
Part 7 - Until Midnight
Part 8 - Something in the Way
Part 9 - Breach
Part 10 - Caught in the Balance
Part 11 - The Lion's Den
Part 12 - All Your Wicked Ways
Part 13 - A Generous Deal
Part 14 - Safe House
Part 15 - The Tower
Part 16 - Soldier Boy
Part 17 - More Than Words Can Say
Epilogue - All My Living Time
Series Complete!
Did you like this series? If you'd like to keep supporting me as I continue the BMD-verse, here's a way to keep me caffeinated: Ko-Fi Me ☕
Tumblr media
Read More In the BMD-Verse
Not done reading this version of Soldier Boy x Reader? Well, there's more to their story.
(**Notes 18+ only and/or smut)
One-Shots:
In the Dark You and Ben have tackled the insurmountable together, but no one said the recovery would be easy.
Love Actually** Ben gets in late on Christmas Eve with a Grinch-like attitude, but you’re determined to force some holiday cheer into his system.
Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 - Complete
Checkerboard** You’re not a supe. You’re breakable. Soldier Boy sometimes forgets that.
Strong As Blood** After you accidentally break through a solid wood table, you know there’s something wrong with you. You begin to have your suspicions, but can you keep it from Ben long enough to find out? 
(In other words: This is the story of how you and Ben discover that you’re pregnant.)
Part 1 || Part 2 - Complete
Until Morning A quiet moment between you, Ben, and your newborn daughter.
Green** Ben spends the day alone with his daughter, to varying degrees of success. When you get home, it prompts a serious conversation.
Imagines:
Getting jealous.** 💚 Ben needs new clothes, but the shop girls think your boyfriend is fair game.
Ben’s reaction to his girlfriend on her period.❣️ How he takes care of you.
Ben loses you. 💔 Includes a “twist” ending…
Talk to Me 💞 In the wake of his vivid nightmare, you confront Ben about his fears and get him to open up. [Sequel to “Ben loses you.”]
Tumblr media
Moodboard below created by @chernayawidow:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Soldier Boy Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
Thank you so much!! 🥹🤧💞
I love “Stanford Era Dean” he’s just so pretty!! 🤩😭
Comfort Crowd
main masterlist | supernatural masterlist
summary: dean just needs you next to him
pairing: (stanford era) dean winchester x female reader
rating: R for language 
word count: 1.9k
warnings: hurt/sad dean, language, reader drives after drinking but she’s not drunk, that’s it i think
author’s note: i know this gif is of jason teague and not dean winchester but that’s literally samford era jackles so i think it fits perfectly <3
music: comfort crowd by conan gray — was listening to conan gray and bam! dean winchester fic idea! anyways…
Tumblr media Tumblr media
When you saw who was calling your brows furrowed — Dean? You had talked to him earlier in the week, just a casual check-in to make sure you were both still alive. You and Dean had gotten into a fight about a month prior and you both decided to just take a break from each other. You had made it clear that you were not breaking up with him, you just needed a break.
Last time you talked he was working a case in Texas, something with ghouls and sororities. You had just finished up a werewolf hunt and he had voiced his jealousy. He hadn’t gotten to fight a werewolf in many, many moons (pun intended).
“Dean?” you answered the call, still holding your first beer of the night in your free hand. He didn’t say anything, there was only labored breathing on the other side and that worried you. “Dean? Honey, is everything okay?” He still said nothing. “Dean, what’s—”
“Where are you?” he asked. His voice was clearly on the verge of cracking. He’d been crying?
“Uh, Bakersfield California,” you told him. “Just finished another case, simple ghost hunt. What’s wrong, Dean?” He again went back to just breathing. “Dean, where are you?”
“I’m in Palo Alto,” he said. “You—Could you get up here, p-please? I need you, hun. I just—I need you here.”
“I’ll be right there Dean, four hours tops,” you told him. You stood up off your chair and paid your tab. “Talk to me, what’s wrong?”
“I can’t…fuck, I just wanna see you…please?”
“Of course, Dean, I’ll be there soon,” you reminded him. “What motel are you staying at?”
“I can text you the address just please…please hurry.”
With that, he hung up. 
Please don’t be dying, you thought to yourself. 
**
After several traffic violations and broken speed limits, you were finally knocking on his door.
“Dean!” you called out, not caring if it was now nearly three in the morning and there were definitely other people staying at the motel. “For the love of god Dean, open the fucking door!”
He unlocked and opened the door, rubbing his tired eyes. “Hey, you made it.” He smiled a little…smiled?
“Dean what the hell is going on?” you asked, trying to stay calm as you walked into the room. “You—That call? What’s up with you?”
“Nothing,” he shrugged, “I’m fine.”
“Fine?” You furrowed your brows. “Dean you called me in tears and asked me to race over here as if you were dying?”
“I…I wasn’t in tears,” he mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Hang on…how do I know you’re you?” you asked. 
He smiled and rolled his eyes a little before you both did the usual tests.
“See, sweetheart? All me!” He smiled again.
“Dean,” you said softly, “what’s going on? Are you…Are you dying?”
“No!” he scoffed, not calming your nerves in the slightest. “I’m sorry I scared you I just…needed you here. With me, next to me. I—Fuck, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, Dean,” you shook your head, “I get it.”
You walked over to him and pulled him down into a hug; your right hand went to the back of his head as your fingers combed through his hair. 
“I’m here Dean, you’re okay,” you told him. His grip tightened around you, as if he was scared you’d break off the hug. “I’m right here.”
“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice cracking again. “Thank you.” 
The two of you stayed like that for what felt like an eternity. You were on your tiptoes, which was kind of uncomfortable, but your love for the man in your arms outweighed any discomfort. You felt Dean’s tears begin to dampen your neck and your eyes grew cloudy at the thought of him in pain. He truly mastered the art of silent crying, he must’ve had to hide his tears from that bastard father of his growing up, and that thought only made your heart break more. Your grip tightened around his shoulders and you turned your head so you could place a soft kiss on his temple. You made a trail of kisses down to his jawline then left your lips there against his skin. 
“Thank you,” he pulled away, “just…thanks.”
“Do you wanna lay down, Dean?” you asked. “We could cuddle up and maybe watch a movie? Or we could listen to music? I’ve got my iPod and we could share my earbuds?”
A soft smile returned to his tear-stained face and he nodded; “Music sounds perfect.”
“Mkay,” you replied. “Now, I have to admit I don’t have many Zeppelin songs downloaded—”
“It’s okay,” he shook his head, “I don’t care what song we play, as long…as long as you’re here. Just need your company.”
“Funnily enough, I do have some Bad Company songs,” you joked, causing his smile to grow. 
“You’re the best company,” he countered. 
“Why don’t you change into your PJs while I go get my bags from the car? We can get comfortable in the bed and maybe you’ll even get some sleep.”
**
Your fingers were once again tangled in Dean’s hair as his head lay on your chest, he was facing away from you but you knew he was still crying. You just didn’t know why.
“Is this Heuy Lewis?” Dean chuckled.
“Hey! No disrespecting Heuy!” you laughed, but Dean knew you were serious. “You want me to skip it?”
“Nah, I’ll live,” he joked. The joke made your heart clench a little though; your mind going back to the call he made to you a mere few hours ago. How scared he sounded. How scared you were as you raced to get to him. Dean must’ve sensed the change in the room because he made sure to remind you; “I’m fine.”
“You said that line already, Dean,” you said through a sigh. “I’m here if you wanna talk, okay?”
“I don’t wanna talk,” he mumbled. “I meant what I said—I just need you here with me, I just need you around.” 
Your free hand (the one that wasn’t currently in Dean’s hair) went to rub comforting circles on his upper back. He let out a contented sigh which made you smile.
“I love you, Dean,” you told him. “I love you more than anything, you know that, right?”
“Thank you,” he mumbled. He buried his face against your chest, trying to hide the sheepish smile forcing its way onto his face before he lifted his head so he could look into your eyes. “I love you so much.”
He leaned over and kissed you softly, his smile connecting with yours. He pulled away after a moment, simply looking into your eyes. He kissed you once more before laying back down, this time resting his head next to yours so he could kiss you again. 
“Sorry about your shirt,” he said, laughing awkwardly at the damp mess of spilled tears covering a fair portion of your tee.
“I don’t mind, kinda like my shirt soggy,” you shrugged with a smile, pulling him closer to you and tucking your head under his chin. 
**
When you woke the next morning you did not expect Dean to be singing to himself while making breakfast.
“What time is it?” you asked with a yawn as you sat up in bed. 
“About seven,” he replied. “Good morning, by the way.”
“Good morning.”
You hurried over to the small kitchen so you could wrap your arms around him from behind.
“What’s gotten into you?” he teased. 
“Could ask you the same question, handsome,” you replied, not letting go. “The food smells amazing and all, but since when do you cook?”
“Remember that fight we had?”
“I vaguely recall,” you said, somewhat flatly. 
“I’ve been working on my breakfast cooking so when I saw you again I could you know…woo you.”
“‘Woo me’?” You raised a brow, your smile growing. “You’re wooing me…with bacon?”
“Damn right!” he scoffed lightheartedly. “I know the way into your heart, and whether you admit it or not—it’s mother fuckin’ breakfast food.”
“You know me way too well,” you laughed. “I’m officially wooed.”
There was a comfortable silence before Dean answered the question he knew you were still wondering about; “Sam and I fought last night.”
“I’m sorry,” you said.
“I knew him going to a fancy college would put a bit of a rift between us…but fuck, sweetheart,” he said. He ran his hands down his face before he leaned against the counter and looked at you; “I think we…I don’t think Sammy and I will ever be as close as we were growin’ up ever again.”
“I’m sure that’s not true, Dean,” you assured him, placing a hand on his bicep and giving it a comforting squeeze. “Sammy just needs time, maybe a bit of space, but that’s only temporary, Dean.”
“Seems like everyone around me always needs space,” he chuckled humorously. 
“If this is about what I said—”
“Nah, you don’t have to explain yourself, I get it!” He shook his head, faking a smile. “You couldn’t stand being around me all the time and hey, that’s okay.”
Your brows furrowed with slight anger; “That’s not what I said, Dean.”
“That’s what it sounded like,” he mumbled before he turned back to the stove to continue making breakfast. 
“Dean I love you, you know I love you!” you said. “I raced here last night when you asked me to, doesn’t that prove I love you!?”
“And what happens when we get into another fight?” he exclaimed. “What happens when you decide that you need more space and you don’t bother coming back to me?”
“That’s not going to happen?” you countered. 
“You can’t say that for sure,” Dean said. 
“Yes I can, Dean!”
“What makes you think that, huh?” he replied loudly. “What makes you think you aren’t gonna run the second you realize that putting space between was the best decision of your fucking life!?”
“Because I love you, Dean!” you said, matching his tone. “Because no matter how far away I was from you the one thought running through my head was that I should call you. That I should stop being so stubborn and run back to you.” You sighed as he continued cooking and you went up to him again, leaning on his bicep and running your hands up and down his forearm. “Because when I got that call…all logic flew out the window and all that mattered to me was getting to you. When I thought you might be dying I didn’t care about anything else and I raced to you like a mad woman. Like a girl so lovestruck she’s practically crazy!”
Dean let out a chuckle which made you smile.
“So…you’re sayin’ you missed me?” he asked, a cocky smirk finding its way to his lips.
“Yes,” you sighed dramatically. “Okay? Yes, Dean, I missed you like fuckin’ crazy, and I’m sorry for ever suggesting we take a damn break. But… you know what this means now, right?”
He looked at you cautiously; “What?”
“You’re stuck with me, Winchester.” You grinned. “And I’m never letting you go again.”
“Sounds good to me,” he replied as he leaned down and kissed you.
653 notes · View notes
You're a very sweet person, and you deserve to hear that.
Thank you for being you. 💖
Tumblr media
Live footage of me finding this ask in my inbox ^^
Genuinely love you for saying this, anon! Sending you so, so much love — you are the sweetest! 🥹🤧💞💞💞
0 notes
idk if you do requests for fic scenarios (or if you do gay ones) but if you do can i request a DeanXTrans (ftm) reader?
Hello!!
Firstly, thank you for thinking of me, and I hope my response does not discourage you from asking other writers this question. Secondly, I only write for female (she/her) readers, unfortunately. It’s just what’s easiest for me and what I’m “best” at simply because I can put myself in the shoes of reader. However, I could try and do a non-binary reader (just avoid using pronouns when referring to the reader) if that’s something you’d like?
(To anyone else reading this, please feel free to tag any writers you know that write Dean x Trans!ftm!reader so Alastor can find what he’s looking for! <3)
Again, thank you for sending me this ask and I’m very sorry I couldn’t be more helpful! Feel free to send me another or private message me if you’d like a non-binary reader alternative 💞💞
0 notes
Thank you so much!! 🥹💞 I’m sorry (not really 😈) for your heart being broken!! I hope the ending made up for it lol! 🥰💞💞
Comfort Crowd
main masterlist | supernatural masterlist
summary: dean just needs you next to him
pairing: (stanford era) dean winchester x female reader
rating: R for language 
word count: 1.9k
warnings: hurt/sad dean, language, reader drives after drinking but she’s not drunk, that’s it i think
author’s note: i know this gif is of jason teague and not dean winchester but that’s literally samford era jackles so i think it fits perfectly <3
music: comfort crowd by conan gray — was listening to conan gray and bam! dean winchester fic idea! anyways…
Tumblr media Tumblr media
When you saw who was calling your brows furrowed — Dean? You had talked to him earlier in the week, just a casual check-in to make sure you were both still alive. You and Dean had gotten into a fight about a month prior and you both decided to just take a break from each other. You had made it clear that you were not breaking up with him, you just needed a break.
Last time you talked he was working a case in Texas, something with ghouls and sororities. You had just finished up a werewolf hunt and he had voiced his jealousy. He hadn’t gotten to fight a werewolf in many, many moons (pun intended).
“Dean?” you answered the call, still holding your first beer of the night in your free hand. He didn’t say anything, there was only labored breathing on the other side and that worried you. “Dean? Honey, is everything okay?” He still said nothing. “Dean, what’s—”
“Where are you?” he asked. His voice was clearly on the verge of cracking. He’d been crying?
“Uh, Bakersfield California,” you told him. “Just finished another case, simple ghost hunt. What’s wrong, Dean?” He again went back to just breathing. “Dean, where are you?”
“I’m in Palo Alto,” he said. “You—Could you get up here, p-please? I need you, hun. I just—I need you here.”
“I’ll be right there Dean, four hours tops,” you told him. You stood up off your chair and paid your tab. “Talk to me, what’s wrong?”
“I can’t…fuck, I just wanna see you…please?”
“Of course, Dean, I’ll be there soon,” you reminded him. “What motel are you staying at?”
“I can text you the address just please…please hurry.”
With that, he hung up. 
Please don’t be dying, you thought to yourself. 
**
After several traffic violations and broken speed limits, you were finally knocking on his door.
“Dean!” you called out, not caring if it was now nearly three in the morning and there were definitely other people staying at the motel. “For the love of god Dean, open the fucking door!”
He unlocked and opened the door, rubbing his tired eyes. “Hey, you made it.” He smiled a little…smiled?
“Dean what the hell is going on?” you asked, trying to stay calm as you walked into the room. “You—That call? What’s up with you?”
“Nothing,” he shrugged, “I’m fine.”
“Fine?” You furrowed your brows. “Dean you called me in tears and asked me to race over here as if you were dying?”
“I…I wasn’t in tears,” he mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Hang on…how do I know you’re you?” you asked. 
He smiled and rolled his eyes a little before you both did the usual tests.
“See, sweetheart? All me!” He smiled again.
“Dean,” you said softly, “what’s going on? Are you…Are you dying?”
“No!” he scoffed, not calming your nerves in the slightest. “I’m sorry I scared you I just…needed you here. With me, next to me. I—Fuck, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, Dean,” you shook your head, “I get it.”
You walked over to him and pulled him down into a hug; your right hand went to the back of his head as your fingers combed through his hair. 
“I’m here Dean, you’re okay,” you told him. His grip tightened around you, as if he was scared you’d break off the hug. “I’m right here.”
“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice cracking again. “Thank you.” 
The two of you stayed like that for what felt like an eternity. You were on your tiptoes, which was kind of uncomfortable, but your love for the man in your arms outweighed any discomfort. You felt Dean’s tears begin to dampen your neck and your eyes grew cloudy at the thought of him in pain. He truly mastered the art of silent crying, he must’ve had to hide his tears from that bastard father of his growing up, and that thought only made your heart break more. Your grip tightened around his shoulders and you turned your head so you could place a soft kiss on his temple. You made a trail of kisses down to his jawline then left your lips there against his skin. 
“Thank you,” he pulled away, “just…thanks.”
“Do you wanna lay down, Dean?” you asked. “We could cuddle up and maybe watch a movie? Or we could listen to music? I’ve got my iPod and we could share my earbuds?”
A soft smile returned to his tear-stained face and he nodded; “Music sounds perfect.”
“Mkay,” you replied. “Now, I have to admit I don’t have many Zeppelin songs downloaded—”
“It’s okay,” he shook his head, “I don’t care what song we play, as long…as long as you’re here. Just need your company.”
“Funnily enough, I do have some Bad Company songs,” you joked, causing his smile to grow. 
“You’re the best company,” he countered. 
“Why don’t you change into your PJs while I go get my bags from the car? We can get comfortable in the bed and maybe you’ll even get some sleep.”
**
Your fingers were once again tangled in Dean’s hair as his head lay on your chest, he was facing away from you but you knew he was still crying. You just didn’t know why.
“Is this Heuy Lewis?” Dean chuckled.
“Hey! No disrespecting Heuy!” you laughed, but Dean knew you were serious. “You want me to skip it?”
“Nah, I’ll live,” he joked. The joke made your heart clench a little though; your mind going back to the call he made to you a mere few hours ago. How scared he sounded. How scared you were as you raced to get to him. Dean must’ve sensed the change in the room because he made sure to remind you; “I’m fine.”
“You said that line already, Dean,” you said through a sigh. “I’m here if you wanna talk, okay?”
“I don’t wanna talk,” he mumbled. “I meant what I said—I just need you here with me, I just need you around.” 
Your free hand (the one that wasn’t currently in Dean’s hair) went to rub comforting circles on his upper back. He let out a contented sigh which made you smile.
“I love you, Dean,” you told him. “I love you more than anything, you know that, right?”
“Thank you,” he mumbled. He buried his face against your chest, trying to hide the sheepish smile forcing its way onto his face before he lifted his head so he could look into your eyes. “I love you so much.”
He leaned over and kissed you softly, his smile connecting with yours. He pulled away after a moment, simply looking into your eyes. He kissed you once more before laying back down, this time resting his head next to yours so he could kiss you again. 
“Sorry about your shirt,” he said, laughing awkwardly at the damp mess of spilled tears covering a fair portion of your tee.
“I don’t mind, kinda like my shirt soggy,” you shrugged with a smile, pulling him closer to you and tucking your head under his chin. 
**
When you woke the next morning you did not expect Dean to be singing to himself while making breakfast.
“What time is it?” you asked with a yawn as you sat up in bed. 
“About seven,” he replied. “Good morning, by the way.”
“Good morning.”
You hurried over to the small kitchen so you could wrap your arms around him from behind.
“What’s gotten into you?” he teased. 
“Could ask you the same question, handsome,” you replied, not letting go. “The food smells amazing and all, but since when do you cook?”
“Remember that fight we had?”
“I vaguely recall,” you said, somewhat flatly. 
“I’ve been working on my breakfast cooking so when I saw you again I could you know…woo you.”
“‘Woo me’?” You raised a brow, your smile growing. “You’re wooing me…with bacon?”
“Damn right!” he scoffed lightheartedly. “I know the way into your heart, and whether you admit it or not—it’s mother fuckin’ breakfast food.”
“You know me way too well,” you laughed. “I’m officially wooed.”
There was a comfortable silence before Dean answered the question he knew you were still wondering about; “Sam and I fought last night.”
“I’m sorry,” you said.
“I knew him going to a fancy college would put a bit of a rift between us…but fuck, sweetheart,” he said. He ran his hands down his face before he leaned against the counter and looked at you; “I think we…I don’t think Sammy and I will ever be as close as we were growin’ up ever again.”
“I’m sure that’s not true, Dean,” you assured him, placing a hand on his bicep and giving it a comforting squeeze. “Sammy just needs time, maybe a bit of space, but that’s only temporary, Dean.”
“Seems like everyone around me always needs space,” he chuckled humorously. 
“If this is about what I said—”
“Nah, you don’t have to explain yourself, I get it!” He shook his head, faking a smile. “You couldn’t stand being around me all the time and hey, that’s okay.”
Your brows furrowed with slight anger; “That’s not what I said, Dean.”
“That’s what it sounded like,” he mumbled before he turned back to the stove to continue making breakfast. 
“Dean I love you, you know I love you!” you said. “I raced here last night when you asked me to, doesn’t that prove I love you!?”
“And what happens when we get into another fight?” he exclaimed. “What happens when you decide that you need more space and you don’t bother coming back to me?”
“That’s not going to happen?” you countered. 
“You can’t say that for sure,” Dean said. 
“Yes I can, Dean!”
“What makes you think that, huh?” he replied loudly. “What makes you think you aren’t gonna run the second you realize that putting space between was the best decision of your fucking life!?”
“Because I love you, Dean!” you said, matching his tone. “Because no matter how far away I was from you the one thought running through my head was that I should call you. That I should stop being so stubborn and run back to you.” You sighed as he continued cooking and you went up to him again, leaning on his bicep and running your hands up and down his forearm. “Because when I got that call…all logic flew out the window and all that mattered to me was getting to you. When I thought you might be dying I didn’t care about anything else and I raced to you like a mad woman. Like a girl so lovestruck she’s practically crazy!”
Dean let out a chuckle which made you smile.
“So…you’re sayin’ you missed me?” he asked, a cocky smirk finding its way to his lips.
“Yes,” you sighed dramatically. “Okay? Yes, Dean, I missed you like fuckin’ crazy, and I’m sorry for ever suggesting we take a damn break. But… you know what this means now, right?”
He looked at you cautiously; “What?”
“You’re stuck with me, Winchester.” You grinned. “And I’m never letting you go again.”
“Sounds good to me,” he replied as he leaned down and kissed you.
653 notes · View notes
Thank you!!! Getting wooed by Dean genuinely sounds like heaven on earth! Also I think if you did race to him from the UK he would appreciate it so so much more simply because he knows what it’s like to hate flying!! 🥹🤧 I’m so glad you enjoyed this!!! 🥰💞💞
Comfort Crowd
main masterlist | supernatural masterlist
summary: dean just needs you next to him
pairing: (stanford era) dean winchester x female reader
rating: R for language 
word count: 1.9k
warnings: hurt/sad dean, language, reader drives after drinking but she’s not drunk, that’s it i think
author’s note: i know this gif is of jason teague and not dean winchester but that’s literally samford era jackles so i think it fits perfectly <3
music: comfort crowd by conan gray — was listening to conan gray and bam! dean winchester fic idea! anyways…
Tumblr media Tumblr media
When you saw who was calling your brows furrowed — Dean? You had talked to him earlier in the week, just a casual check-in to make sure you were both still alive. You and Dean had gotten into a fight about a month prior and you both decided to just take a break from each other. You had made it clear that you were not breaking up with him, you just needed a break.
Last time you talked he was working a case in Texas, something with ghouls and sororities. You had just finished up a werewolf hunt and he had voiced his jealousy. He hadn’t gotten to fight a werewolf in many, many moons (pun intended).
“Dean?” you answered the call, still holding your first beer of the night in your free hand. He didn’t say anything, there was only labored breathing on the other side and that worried you. “Dean? Honey, is everything okay?” He still said nothing. “Dean, what’s—”
“Where are you?” he asked. His voice was clearly on the verge of cracking. He’d been crying?
“Uh, Bakersfield California,” you told him. “Just finished another case, simple ghost hunt. What’s wrong, Dean?” He again went back to just breathing. “Dean, where are you?”
“I’m in Palo Alto,” he said. “You—Could you get up here, p-please? I need you, hun. I just—I need you here.”
“I’ll be right there Dean, four hours tops,” you told him. You stood up off your chair and paid your tab. “Talk to me, what’s wrong?”
“I can’t…fuck, I just wanna see you…please?”
“Of course, Dean, I’ll be there soon,” you reminded him. “What motel are you staying at?”
“I can text you the address just please…please hurry.”
With that, he hung up. 
Please don’t be dying, you thought to yourself. 
**
After several traffic violations and broken speed limits, you were finally knocking on his door.
“Dean!” you called out, not caring if it was now nearly three in the morning and there were definitely other people staying at the motel. “For the love of god Dean, open the fucking door!”
He unlocked and opened the door, rubbing his tired eyes. “Hey, you made it.” He smiled a little…smiled?
“Dean what the hell is going on?” you asked, trying to stay calm as you walked into the room. “You—That call? What’s up with you?”
“Nothing,” he shrugged, “I’m fine.”
“Fine?” You furrowed your brows. “Dean you called me in tears and asked me to race over here as if you were dying?”
“I…I wasn’t in tears,” he mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Hang on…how do I know you’re you?” you asked. 
He smiled and rolled his eyes a little before you both did the usual tests.
“See, sweetheart? All me!” He smiled again.
“Dean,” you said softly, “what’s going on? Are you…Are you dying?”
“No!” he scoffed, not calming your nerves in the slightest. “I’m sorry I scared you I just…needed you here. With me, next to me. I—Fuck, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, Dean,” you shook your head, “I get it.”
You walked over to him and pulled him down into a hug; your right hand went to the back of his head as your fingers combed through his hair. 
“I’m here Dean, you’re okay,” you told him. His grip tightened around you, as if he was scared you’d break off the hug. “I’m right here.”
“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice cracking again. “Thank you.” 
The two of you stayed like that for what felt like an eternity. You were on your tiptoes, which was kind of uncomfortable, but your love for the man in your arms outweighed any discomfort. You felt Dean’s tears begin to dampen your neck and your eyes grew cloudy at the thought of him in pain. He truly mastered the art of silent crying, he must’ve had to hide his tears from that bastard father of his growing up, and that thought only made your heart break more. Your grip tightened around his shoulders and you turned your head so you could place a soft kiss on his temple. You made a trail of kisses down to his jawline then left your lips there against his skin. 
“Thank you,” he pulled away, “just…thanks.”
“Do you wanna lay down, Dean?” you asked. “We could cuddle up and maybe watch a movie? Or we could listen to music? I’ve got my iPod and we could share my earbuds?”
A soft smile returned to his tear-stained face and he nodded; “Music sounds perfect.”
“Mkay,” you replied. “Now, I have to admit I don’t have many Zeppelin songs downloaded—”
“It’s okay,” he shook his head, “I don’t care what song we play, as long…as long as you’re here. Just need your company.”
“Funnily enough, I do have some Bad Company songs,” you joked, causing his smile to grow. 
“You’re the best company,” he countered. 
“Why don’t you change into your PJs while I go get my bags from the car? We can get comfortable in the bed and maybe you’ll even get some sleep.”
**
Your fingers were once again tangled in Dean’s hair as his head lay on your chest, he was facing away from you but you knew he was still crying. You just didn’t know why.
“Is this Heuy Lewis?” Dean chuckled.
“Hey! No disrespecting Heuy!” you laughed, but Dean knew you were serious. “You want me to skip it?”
“Nah, I’ll live,” he joked. The joke made your heart clench a little though; your mind going back to the call he made to you a mere few hours ago. How scared he sounded. How scared you were as you raced to get to him. Dean must’ve sensed the change in the room because he made sure to remind you; “I’m fine.”
“You said that line already, Dean,” you said through a sigh. “I’m here if you wanna talk, okay?”
“I don’t wanna talk,” he mumbled. “I meant what I said—I just need you here with me, I just need you around.” 
Your free hand (the one that wasn’t currently in Dean’s hair) went to rub comforting circles on his upper back. He let out a contented sigh which made you smile.
“I love you, Dean,” you told him. “I love you more than anything, you know that, right?”
“Thank you,” he mumbled. He buried his face against your chest, trying to hide the sheepish smile forcing its way onto his face before he lifted his head so he could look into your eyes. “I love you so much.”
He leaned over and kissed you softly, his smile connecting with yours. He pulled away after a moment, simply looking into your eyes. He kissed you once more before laying back down, this time resting his head next to yours so he could kiss you again. 
“Sorry about your shirt,” he said, laughing awkwardly at the damp mess of spilled tears covering a fair portion of your tee.
“I don’t mind, kinda like my shirt soggy,” you shrugged with a smile, pulling him closer to you and tucking your head under his chin. 
**
When you woke the next morning you did not expect Dean to be singing to himself while making breakfast.
“What time is it?” you asked with a yawn as you sat up in bed. 
“About seven,” he replied. “Good morning, by the way.”
“Good morning.”
You hurried over to the small kitchen so you could wrap your arms around him from behind.
“What’s gotten into you?” he teased. 
“Could ask you the same question, handsome,” you replied, not letting go. “The food smells amazing and all, but since when do you cook?”
“Remember that fight we had?”
“I vaguely recall,” you said, somewhat flatly. 
“I’ve been working on my breakfast cooking so when I saw you again I could you know…woo you.”
“‘Woo me’?” You raised a brow, your smile growing. “You’re wooing me…with bacon?”
“Damn right!” he scoffed lightheartedly. “I know the way into your heart, and whether you admit it or not—it’s mother fuckin’ breakfast food.”
“You know me way too well,” you laughed. “I’m officially wooed.”
There was a comfortable silence before Dean answered the question he knew you were still wondering about; “Sam and I fought last night.”
“I’m sorry,” you said.
“I knew him going to a fancy college would put a bit of a rift between us…but fuck, sweetheart,” he said. He ran his hands down his face before he leaned against the counter and looked at you; “I think we…I don’t think Sammy and I will ever be as close as we were growin’ up ever again.”
“I’m sure that’s not true, Dean,” you assured him, placing a hand on his bicep and giving it a comforting squeeze. “Sammy just needs time, maybe a bit of space, but that’s only temporary, Dean.”
“Seems like everyone around me always needs space,” he chuckled humorously. 
“If this is about what I said—”
“Nah, you don’t have to explain yourself, I get it!” He shook his head, faking a smile. “You couldn’t stand being around me all the time and hey, that’s okay.”
Your brows furrowed with slight anger; “That’s not what I said, Dean.”
“That’s what it sounded like,” he mumbled before he turned back to the stove to continue making breakfast. 
“Dean I love you, you know I love you!” you said. “I raced here last night when you asked me to, doesn’t that prove I love you!?”
“And what happens when we get into another fight?” he exclaimed. “What happens when you decide that you need more space and you don’t bother coming back to me?”
“That’s not going to happen?” you countered. 
“You can’t say that for sure,” Dean said. 
“Yes I can, Dean!”
“What makes you think that, huh?” he replied loudly. “What makes you think you aren’t gonna run the second you realize that putting space between was the best decision of your fucking life!?”
“Because I love you, Dean!” you said, matching his tone. “Because no matter how far away I was from you the one thought running through my head was that I should call you. That I should stop being so stubborn and run back to you.” You sighed as he continued cooking and you went up to him again, leaning on his bicep and running your hands up and down his forearm. “Because when I got that call…all logic flew out the window and all that mattered to me was getting to you. When I thought you might be dying I didn’t care about anything else and I raced to you like a mad woman. Like a girl so lovestruck she’s practically crazy!”
Dean let out a chuckle which made you smile.
“So…you’re sayin’ you missed me?” he asked, a cocky smirk finding its way to his lips.
“Yes,” you sighed dramatically. “Okay? Yes, Dean, I missed you like fuckin’ crazy, and I’m sorry for ever suggesting we take a damn break. But… you know what this means now, right?”
He looked at you cautiously; “What?”
“You’re stuck with me, Winchester.” You grinned. “And I’m never letting you go again.”
“Sounds good to me,” he replied as he leaned down and kissed you.
653 notes · View notes