#soldier boy au

[tornado1992]

If I ever were to make a baby Tais AU I would call it “Soldier boy AU” because

Apparently it also means “gift from God” so, yeah, he is one indeed

#it also means merciful I think #not sure about that one but he does have a heart of gold so #miles tails prower #sonic the hedgehog #sth #also fitting because of all the pain he had to endure when he was an actual baby #Sonic took him out of that war #also I’m definitely not making reference to a heart breaking song of course not #brave soldier boy comes marching home #sonic headcanon #soldier boy au #sonic and tails #unbreakable bond #they’re brothers your honor #they are cosmic truth #baby tails #baby miles tails prower

[leiawritesstories]

1778 (my soldier boy) pt. 2

Oh it's @sjmromanceweek??? here have some rowaelin romance 🥰

part 2 to 1778 (my soldier boy)

word count: 2.8k

warnings: injury, pregnancy, minor swearing

enjoy!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

14 February 1779

Heart of my heart, 

I miss you. We miss you. After you went back to your troops, after you marched down to Savannah, I held off the desperation for as long as I could. I turned back to the pub, my second home, and let my customers and fellow pub staff–who are far too good to me–comfort me. They cheered me up, told me to have hope in our brave soldier boys. 

But for weeks and months, there was no news. And then, just after Christmas, there was news, but it was terrible, awful news. The worst news. Your name stayed out of the papers, and so I clung to hope. I keep clinging to hope. I hope for you, and I hope for our child. Yes, my love, our child. I ignored the signs for as long as possible, until I started to swell and the landlady, bless her dear sweet soul, sat me down and asked, “How long?” 

Four months, now. Over four months since we conceived a child. Four months since you marched down South, leaving silence in your wake. 

I miss you so desperately, Rowan, my soldier boy. Every night, I fall asleep with your portrait, praying for your safety and return. I felt our baby move for the first time today, and it nearly cracked my heart in two wishing you were here to feel the little flutter. Even so, I cling to the hope that you are safe and well and leading your fearless troops. 

Come home, my soldier boy. 

To whatever end, 

Aelin

~

After months of bitter winter, the snow was finally melting away, leaving room for the first timid patches of green spring life to bloom. Watery sunlight shone through the gray, chilly skies, and Aelin wrapped her woolen cloak tighter around herself as she headed home, her boots squelching in the slushy mud that had overtaken the streets. Instinctively, one gloved hand dropped to the curve of her rounded stomach, rubbing soft circles over the little one within. 

“We’re almost home,” she promised. “Then you can eat, I promise.” She cracked a soft, fleeting smile; the baby was a ravenous force of hunger, always wanting food at all hours of the day and night. 

A few minutes later, she was at her house, and she unlocked the door and entered, leaving her muddy boots and cloak in the small mudroom. Pressing her hands to the small of her back, she stretched for a moment, easing some of the pressure in her back, and went into the kitchen. After a hearty dinner, she felt much improved–and rather sleepy–so she headed into her bedroom, intent on washing up and tumbling into bed. 

Her eyes snagged on the miniature portrait above the bed, and tears clouded her eyes. The baby kicked, sensing Aelin’s emotional shift, and she cradled her growing bump, murmuring words of comfort. “Don’t worry, little one. Your father will be here, hopefully soon.” Sighing, she sank to her knees and pulled a small, beautifully worked wooden box out from beneath the bed. She opened the box, laid its lid carefully to the side, and sifted through the stack of cleanly folded papers, each one tied with a bright green thread and bearing the same name on the front. 

Rowan.

Four–nearly five–months of letters addressed to her soldier boy, none of them sent because she did not know where to send them. Four–nearly five–months of hoping, praying, crying, and loving the little life that had yet to enter the world. 

It was her dearest wish that he be at her side when their baby came. 

~

Far to the south, in a cramped, swelteringly humid room, Rowan lay slumped on a lumpy straw mattress with his broken wrist immobilized in a sling and four-day-old bandages tied around the stitched-up gash across his stomach. The doctor who’d sewn him up said it was a small miracle the gash wasn’t any deeper, or something vital might have been hit. All around him were the groans and moans and stenches of wounded soldiers, the faintly rotting air of battlefield gore that never quite went away.

Heavy, labored bootsteps thudded towards Rowan. Summoning as much of his depleted strength as possible, he turned his head and cracked his eyes open, blinking in the muted light filtering in through the few filthy glass windowpanes. And gawked, speechless, at the figure beside his bed.

Just as battered and grimy as Rowan was, Aedion Ashryver summoned a smirk. “You look like shit, Whitethorn.”

Incredulous, Rowan blinked. “Ashryver?” he rasped, his voice rusty from disuse. 

“One and the same.” Aedion sat down in the simple wooden chair beside Rowan’s cot. “I’d hoped to cross paths with you while we were both stationed here, Whitethorn, but not like this.” His keen scout’s gaze scanned Rowan’s injuries. “How bad is it?” 

“I’ll live,” Rowan deadpanned. 

Aedion chuckled. “Sometimes I wonder why my sister fell in love with you and your sarcasm.” 

Mingled pain, grief, and longing rippled across Rowan’s bruised face. “Do you have anything from Aelin?” 

“I’m sorry,” Aedion murmured, “we haven’t received mail in months.” He patted Rowan’s good shoulder. “Knowing Aelin, she’ll likely have a whole stack of letters waiting for you when you’re home.” 

Bone-tired, Rowan simply nodded. “Thank you.” 

“Of course.” Aedion helped himself to the flask of water sitting on the bedside table. “Good to see you alive, brother.” 

“Good to see you still have both legs,” Rowan returned. 

Aedion flashed that trademark Ashryver smirk. “I’d be more concerned about losing an eye.” He got up and walked across the ward, stopped, and spoke to the field doctor for a few minutes, then tipped his hat at Rowan and strolled out of the hospital. 

The doctor came to his bedside. “Captain Whitethorn? I need to look at your bandages.” 

Rowan grunted in assent and pushed himself slowly up into more of a seated position. “Any reason for this?” he asked as the doctor cut through the old bandages. 

“General’s orders.” The doctor—probably in his early thirties, with bland brown hair and puffy circles shadowing his eyes—shrugged. “He should be in to see you shortly, Captain.” 

“Hell,” Rowan muttered. He hissed as the doctor pressed a warm, wet cloth to the stitched-up wound in his abdomen. 

“It’s healing cleanly, no sign of infection so far,” the doctor said, unruffled by Rowan’s grunt. 

“I suppose that’s a good thing,” Rowan returned, his words acerbic. 

The doctor nodded. “Indeed.” Swiftly, he finished cleaning the wound and rewrapped the bandages around it. Just in time, too, because General Salvaterre stepped into the ward just then, his sharp dark eyes searching for Rowan. 

He crossed the room in a small handful of strides. “Whitethorn.” 

“Sir.” Rowan managed to salute. 

Lorcan glanced at the bandages wound around Rowan’s middle and the splint binding his wrist. “You look like shit.”

“Others have said so,” Rowan grunted. “What do you need, sir?” 

“Drop the damn title, Whitethorn.” Lorcan sat down in the chair that the doctor had just vacated, waving him off to go see other patients. 

Rowan tensed. “What do you want, Salvaterre?” 

“I’m sending you up to Baltimore.” 

“Right, because I’m in perfect condition to get on a damn horse.” Rowan scoffed. 

Lorcan rolled his eyes. “In a cart, you idiot. You’re one of the best men I have, and I can’t let you rot to death in this stinkhouse while your stupid ass recovers from jumping in front of a goddamn redcoat patrol.” 

Rowan shrugged. “Any man in my patrol would have done the same.” 

“Yes, and that’s why you’re getting shipped off to Baltimore to handle the paperwork until your idiotic ass can hold a gun again.” 

“I am so thankful for your trust in me,” Rowan deadpanned. 

Lorcan bit back a rare half-smirk. “Careful how you speak to your superiors, Captain.” 

“Didn’t you just tell me to drop the titles, General?” 

“Just be glad you won’t be stuck in this sweltering hellhole,” Lorcan said, standing. “I’ll send in a pair of your patrol to get you when the cart is ready. Try not to fall off on the way to Baltimore.” 

“Aye, sir.” Rowan saluted as Lorcan left. 

About an hour later, two of the men in his squad came into the hospital, a stretcher between them. They helped Rowan onto the makeshift cot and carried him out of the hospital, where he drank in huge gulps of air that didn’t reek of blood, sweat, and shit. When he had stopped heaving for fresh air, his men hoisted him into the back of a hay cart that was in front of the hospital. The farmer driving the cart clicked his tongue, and the horses plodded into motion. Rowan settled back as best as he could into the hay. He  might as well appreciate the small comfort. 

It took two weeks to reach Baltimore, and by the time the cart pulled into the outskirts of the city, Rowan felt strong enough to sit properly. He’d gotten to know the farmer, a stoic, close-lipped older man whose fierce devotion to the Patriot army was buried beneath his even fiercer devotion to owning his farmland and taking care of his family. 

The farmer stopped at a pub. “This is where we part ways, soldier boy.” 

Rowan nodded. “Thanks again for the ride and the company, Malakai.” 

Malakai helped Rowan out of the cart, and, unexpectedly, handed him a pair of smooth wooden poles. “To help you walk,” he said. 

“I…thank you.” Rowan settled the crutches beneath his armpits, testing out their balance, and took a few careful steps. Satisfied that he had control of his movements, he stopped, waved to Malakai, and started the long trek towards the city. 

Towards Aelin. 

~

Aelin gripped the frame of her bathroom door, breathing deeply as a shooting pain raced through her abdomen. She was still at least a month and a half away from giving birth, but the midwife had warned her that she might experience pre-labor pains. Calm down, little one, she thought, rubbing circles on her swollen stomach. I know, you share my worries. We will be alright. 

We will not be afraid. 

Somewhere in the back of her heart, Aelin felt a familiar tug, as if some divine hand had reached into her soul and nudged the piece that was wholly Rowan’s. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she cradled her bump, as if soothing her baby would soothe her too. As if the faint flickers of hope that she still nourished would come alive with the sight of her soldier boy. 

She went out into the kitchen and boiled some water for a tea, then clasped her hands around the pottery mug and stared out into the bright, sunny, early spring day. The cheeriness of the late-March sun and the clear cornflower blue of the sky contrasted so sharply to the shades of gray clouding her heart, and she tried to let the sunlight through, but her mind kept drifting back to the news. 

It had been months since she had heard from Rowan, let alone from Aedion, and although she tried to keep her hopes up, her heart whispered that they were gone. 

Towards the end of her street, a lone figure walked slowly up the dirt path, too far away for Aelin to see any features clearly. It was probably just another resident, but still—her heart fluttered at the tiny, tiny possibility that it could be her Rowan. 

She shook her head. He was in Savannah. Turning away from the window, she washed out her now-empty mug, dried it, and set it back in the cabinet. Her baby kicked as she reached up to close the cabinet door, and Aelin smiled, resting her hand against her stomach. “Hello, little one,” she whispered. “Mama loves you so much.” 

A knock thudded against the front door. 

Baby kicked again, this time as if in distress. 

“Shh,” Aelin murmured, carefully padding over to the door so her footsteps didn’t creak. “’Tis likely just a neighbor.” She gently nudged aside the small flap of leather over a knothole in the door that served as her security window and peered outside. 

Then she flung the door open with shaking hands, her heartbeat thundering like the ocean surf. 

For there, standing on her front stoop, was her soldier boy. Dust and dirt streaked his clothes and skin, bandages wound around his stomach, a splint wrapped around his left arm, and crutches propped him up on his feet, but it was… 

“Ro?” she gasped, her trembling hands reaching out, half-afraid he was a dream. 

“Fireheart,” Rowan rasped, teasers gleaming in his eyes as he looked at her. As he saw the swell of her stomach. 

A sob cracked her chest as she all but yanked him into her house, throwing her arms around him. He was warm and solid and real in her embrace, and she felt the heat of his tears in her blouse as he tucked his face into her shoulder. 

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured. “I could not write.” 

She wiped her face. “Of course you could not write, Rowan. Just…just look at you.” 

He brushed a tear from her cheek. “I wanted to. It…well, the army didn’t have paper, nor did the hospital, and I’ve spent the last two weeks riding in the back of a farmer’s cart.” 

“You’re alive,” she whispered, clinging to the tangible reality of the words. 

“I am.” 

She sniffled. “We missed you so, so badly, my love.” Her hand drifted to her stomach. “Will you say hello to your father, little one?” With a bright, teary smile, she grasped Rowan’s hand and placed it on her stomach, right next to hers. 

And the baby kicked, little feet fluttering up against their hands. 

Rowan choked on a sob. “Aelin…”

“Your future daughter. Or son, however it turns out.” She let him cradle her stomach, watching him fall in love with their baby until he swayed unsteadily on his feet. Her nose wrinkled. “Ro, I wasn’t going to say it, but you stink.” 

He huffed a soft laugh. “I haven’t exactly had a bath available to me lately.” 

“We can fix that.” She took one of his crutches and let him lean on her as they went to the bath. 

At the edge of the tub, he paused, faltering. “I…Aelin, love, I’m injured.” A deep breath. “I don’t know if I can…bathe myself.” 

She tugged a chair over to the side of the tub. “Sit down.” He did, with a groan of relief. “Will you let me help you?” 

His response was a wordless mumble as his head tipped forwards, right into her arms. 

She chuckled, running her fingers through his dirt-caked hair. “All right.” It took some creative maneuvering and a handful of grumbled expletives from both of them, but she eventually got Rowan into the steaming hot bath, and once he was clean, she left a set of clean clothes on the chair for him. 

He came slowly out of the bathroom some minutes later with his shirt open. “Ae?” 

“Yes?” She was perched on the end of the bed. 

“I need to change my bandages, love, but I’m not sure I can do it myself.” 

“Come here.” She patted the space beside her, and he reluctantly walked over and sat down. She ran her fingers through his damp hair. “I know you don’t like being dependent, Ro, but I want to take care of you. And you should know that I have some medical training.” 

He sighed. “I know, and I trust you. It’s just…this damn injury is keeping me away from my men, and I hate it.” 

“I know.” She reached for his shirt. “Hold still, love.” 

A gleam sparked behind his eyes. “Say that again.” 

She smirked, and the danger edging her expression had him thinking of many, many things. “Hold still for me, love,” she murmured, her voice a soft, silken caress. 

He went completely still as she slipped off his shirt and unwound the bandages, her keen eyes assessing the healing wound on his stomach. She went into the bathroom and came back with a roll of fresh bandages and a warm, wet cloth, and she carefully cleaned the skin around his stitched-up wound and wrapped clean cotton around it. “There.” 

“Will you kiss it to make it better?” He was only half teasing. 

Aelin grinned. “Of course.” She leant down and gently kissed the bandage over his stomach. Her smile morphed into something devious, and she dipped her head just a bit farther down and—

“Fireheart,” Rowan groaned, his hand automatically cradling the back of her head. “N-not yet.” 

She braced her hands on either side of his lap and brought her head up to kiss him, lingering in its sweetness. “All right. You tell me when, my love.” 

For now, they would just drink in the sweetness of reunion.

~~~

TAGS:

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@backtobl4ck

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

@kittykatsogsreads

#my writing #rowaelin #rowan x aelin #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #1778 my soldier boy #revolutionary war au #soldier boy au #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfic #sjmromanceweek2024

[zu-is-here]

[8/7] his day ♡

The capricious pharaoh drives away his servants, while a delinquent soldier, who's never served in the palace, is sent to him to the mercy. The mistake with a hand fan could really cost Cross his life, but Shattered finds it so amusing that he spares him :'D

Shattered Dream from shattereddreamsau by galacii-gallery / galacii || Dream by jokublog

Cross from xtaleunderverse by jakei95

#zu art #comic #shattered dream #cross!sans #birthday #undertale #undertale au #utmv #oh that grace ♪ oh that body ♪ oh that face ♪ makes me wanna party <3 #he's 7 today!! what a big boi (๑>◡<๑) #this design of him has been rotating in my head for a long time *^* #srly he's always so irresistible /// #he's made to wear the best clothes and high heels and shatter hearts into pieces ♡ #I'm stopping with my essay— #thank you for him Galacii╰(*´︶`*)╯ #*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･''･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･* #egyptian au #this idea came unexpectedly and now I can't stop thinking about it :'D #pff ​I can imagine how after that Shattered constantly orders to send Cross to him for ''entertainment'' #everyone makes fun of Cross because of the double meaning but many are really jealous that a simple soldier was awarded such an honor #but in fact Shattered listens to Cross' funny tales about army life and about himself ((and gradually learns to be kind again ;w;)) #they spend more time together... and... and riots begin in the state; betrayals; choosing between homeland and love and much more >:D #be back soon! thank you guys for patience╰(*´︶`*)╯

[zepskies]

Calculated Risks

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Summary: You and Ben argue about your commitment to being a working mom. When a rogue supe gets loose at Supe Affairs, mayhem ensues, putting not only your life at risk, but your daughter’s as well.

AN: Welcome back to the BMD-verse, friends! Did you miss these two as much as I did? Plus, get ready for a heavy dose of fan-favorite Frank. (And Lila, of course!)

Word Count: 7K

Tags/Warnings: Familiar bickering, a mission gone awry, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff.

Catch up on the BMD-verse. ⤵️

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

In four years of marriage, one thing that had never changed between you and Ben was this.

“All right, you’re being a little too much right now,” you said in irritation. “Of course I’m not sitting this one out. I’m the one who found us the damn lead in the first place.”

The man was following you from the adjoining bathroom and back into your shared bedroom, where you began getting dressed for work in the blouse and pencil skirt you’d laid out for yourself.

Your husband had already donned his supe suit, sans helmet. He stood just behind you with his arms crossed, a familiar surly frown on his face. When you turned around, he hadn’t moved an inch.

“I’m being too much? You’re the one who’s not being fucking reasonable,” he said.

You rolled your eyes and moved past him to find your shoes. For this skirt, you really needed heels. Your most comfortable black pumps would do. You grabbed the closet doorknob for balance as you slipped them on, giving him a look of exasperation.

Ben held firm on his stance, but inside, he had a feeling you’d chosen this outfit on purpose. You knew he liked this whole sexcretary look on you, with your hair let down around your shoulders. The skirt and heels just brought his eyes to the delectable curve of your ass.

But again, he was holding firm.

He’d been called in on this case partly because Annie was on maternity leave. She was due in just a few weeks. Which meant “Soldier Boy” was definitely needed to help out Butcher and his merry band of assholes. By now, Ben had gotten used to them.  

“Look,” you said, “Slingshot has been causing a lot of havoc, and the police haven’t been able to catch him. You heard Grace. This is an ‘all hands on deck’ situation.”

“She always says that shit. Doesn’t make it true,” Ben retorted.

“This time it is,” you said. “I’ve already put in tons of man hours on surveillance for this guy. I want to get him off the street.”

Ben held you by your arms. “That’s exactly my point. You’ve been putting in way too many hours.”

You shook your head. He just didn’t get it.

“If I hadn’t, we wouldn’t have this opening now,” you said. You gave him a smile to try and lighten him. “Now he’s all teed up for you and the guys. This should be in and out. Practically a milk run for you.”

“Yeah, but not for you,” he pointed out. “And not for Lila. You’re stretching yourself too damn thin. It’s not like we need the money.”

Ahh, now we get to it, you thought. Yet again, he was bringing this up. In his mind, you should’ve cut your hours at Supe Affairs after Lila was born.

You did take an extended maternity leave of an entire year and a half, which was much more than women usually got from their jobs. However, because of your relationship with Grace and the entire team, you’d been allowed to come back whenever you felt ready. 

Ben had often felt it necessary to point out that with his money, you didn’t have to work at all. 

He knew very well that for you, this work was more than a job. 

“I’m not the first working mom in existence, Ben,” you said, pushing out of his hold. “And I’ll remind you that Supe Affairs has a great daycare program. Lila’s very happy there.”

Plus, she was almost three and a half years old. In less than a year, Lila would be off to preschool.

“And look, it’s not about the money,” you added. “I told you before Lila was born. I am a mother, and I’m your wife. But I’m still me.”

Ben processed that for a moment, meeting your gaze.

“The situation’s changed,” he replied. He grasped your hips this time. His thumb gently brushed over your belly, which had a small bump under your high-waisted skirt. 

You were finally pregnant again. Three months, in fact, and you were having a boy. You knew that Ben had several reasons to be more protective than usual…but still. You thought you were already taking every precaution to keep you and your children safe, even with the occasionally extensive hours of your job.

“These cases can be long and difficult, not to mention dangerous,” said Ben. His green eyes met yours as he looked down at you through furrowed brows. “You’re putting yourself at risk.”

You blew out a breath and tried to placate him, soothing a hand over his chest. 

“I’ve stopped doing field missions,” you pointed out. “And Supe Affairs is the most secure building in the city. Do you think I would bring Lila there if it wasn’t?”

The security team at the S.A. was bar none, not only because Loco was a part of that team. Frank was also your personal bodyguard; Ben hired him back when you found out you were pregnant with Lila.

In fact, Frank was coming to the house in a few minutes to pick you all up.

Ben frowned. “I think you’re being stubborn just to be fucking stubborn.”

That sparked at your temper. Again, you withdrew from his arms and crossed yours.

“I think you need to face the fact that I’m protected as well as I can be,” you said. “I also think that you’re trying to use this as a way to shoehorn me into some antiquated idea of what you still think a wife should be. I’m gonna tell you right now. That’s not me! It’s never been me. And you know that.”

He opened his mouth to give an angry retort, but you beat him to it.

“It’s like you don’t even care about what I want,” you snapped. “Just what you think is right—for me to be here waiting for you to come home, quite literally barefoot and pregnant, ready to rub your balls!”

Cliché as it might’ve been to say, if the shoe fit, then you were certainly not going to be the one to wear it.

“You know what, you can accuse me of being stuck in the fucking past all you want,” Ben said, raising a finger, as well as his voice. “But the problem here isn’t me. It’s that what you want is goddamn idiotic!”

Your mouth fell agape. “Excuse me?! I can’t even believe you right now!”

Ben fairly loomed above you when he shouted back.

“Well, that makes fucking two of us!”

His voice was loud enough to reverberate on the walls. You even flinched, but you held your ground with a glare…

Until you heard a whimper.

You and Ben paused, and turned to find Lila. The three-year-old was cowering a bit in the doorway to your bedroom. Her eyes welled up with tears, and she began to cry.

Your heart broke.

“Oh, honey,” you breathed. You were both apologetic and mortified as you quickly went to her.

Ben was close behind you, but while Lila was quick to melt into your arms when you picked her up, she shied away from his attempt to reach out to her. What would’ve been a placating hand on her head, turned into him pausing in surprise when she ducked.

“Lila?” he prodded.

He tried to mask how put out he was by his daughter hiding her face from him, burrowing into your neck instead. She was usually a daddy’s girl, through and through.

You shot him a knowing frown, while rubbing her back in comfort.

“It’s okay, baby,” you told her. “Your dad and I were just…talking. He didn’t mean to shout.”

When Lila only whimpered in response, Ben’s gaze dimmed in understanding. His lips pursed.

You saw that look on his face, and you wanted to sigh. Part of you felt bad for him, at the way Lila had flinched away from her father. In a way though, maybe it was a lesson he needed to learn.

Frank arrived a few minutes later in a black SUV, like he did every weekday morning to bring you all to work. Ben was quiet and taciturn climbing into the backseat on one side, and you clipped Lila into her car seat from the other side. He still made sure that she was strapped in correctly, and even tried to earn his daughter’s gaze.

She snuck a glance at him a couple of times, but quickly lowered it to play with one of her favorite stuffed animal toys (a little German shepherd that he had gotten for her).

Ben let out a long breath through his nose. He gave Frank a nod through the rearview mirror, and the other man peeled away from the house.

The four of you rode in silence away from your house in Scarsdale, towards New York City.

Ben’s mood remained grim, even when you all got to Supe Affairs. Frank held back while you and Ben stopped in the hallway with Lila. You were carrying her, and she was holding onto you and her stuffed animal like a lifeline instead of looking anywhere else—namely at Ben.

You sighed and tried to pull her back enough to see her face.

“Daddy’s gotta go to work now. Want to say goodbye?” you encouraged.

All Lila could manage was a shy look in his direction. Ben laid a gentle hand on her head, over her dark hair.

“Bye, sweetheart,” he said.

Lila didn’t answer him. She just bit her lip and stayed withdrawn.

You and Ben shared a glance. He was hiding it well behind his usual stoicism, but this was hurting him. There wasn’t much either of you could do about it now, however. You both had work to do, and the mission would have to come first.

“I’ll be online in a bit,” you told him. 

First, you needed to take Lila up to daycare before Frank accompanied you to your office. There you’d be able to join the mission from your computer and put your headset on. Aside from surveillance, you were their virtual eyes on missions. 

So Ben tacitly agreed, and the two of you parted ways.

You went up to the second floor to drop Lila off at daycare, where you set her onto her feet. You could see that she was quiet and almost sad, not as bright and talkative as usual. And she was clinging to your hand. You bent down the best you could in your skirt, so you could meet her eyes.

“Are you still upset with your dad?” you asked. 

After a moment, Lila replied, “Daddy’s loud.”

You couldn’t help a rueful smile. 

“Yeah, he can be,” you nodded. “But he’s gonna work on that, okay? He loves you very much.”

She finally smiled a little when you pressed a few sweet kisses to her cheeks. You felt a little better about leaving her with Sarah, the woman who ran the daycare center. She was kind, but well-organized, and good at her job of wrangling fifteen or so toddlers on a daily basis.

And she was hovering off to the side with a smile, waiting to shepherd Lila over to where the rest of the group were starting at the arts and crafts table.

“Okay, baby. I love you. I’m just downstairs if you need me,” you said, caressing Lila’s cheeks, brushing her hair away from her face.

She nodded and waved goodbye. Sarah then stepped in and guided the girl over to the crafts table. The other kids were already drawing and coloring with crayons and markers.

With a sigh, you knew you had to get to work. You joined Frank out in the hall.

“Did something happen this morning?” he asked. You gave him a weary look.

“Something always happens. I’ll fill you in when we hit the elevator,” you said.

“Kids are resilient. She’ll bounce back,” said Frank, when you two got off the elevator down to the basement, under the first floor. This was where the “heavy stuff” happened at the S.A.

“That’s not the point, Frank. He hasn’t snapped at me like that in a long time, and he really scared her. That’s not fucking okay,” you said. “He needs to learn to control his goddamn temper.”

He sent you a knowing glance. You rolled your eyes.

“Okay, I know I don’t always help. But in this case, I was justified,” you said. “Ben was being an ass.”

“Right,” Frank nodded. “It’s not at all that he’s worried about you.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Whose side are you on?”

The man remained silent, but his stoic face wasn’t fooling you. He’d been your friend for much too long, and he knew Ben just as well…which was why you found yourself reconsidering what happened this morning.

“You really think he has a point?” you asked. “Am I working too much?”

Frank shook his head and opened the door for you into the Surveillance Department. The two of you ventured to your office, where your quadruple monitor setup was waiting for you. He also had a desk for himself, since he often spent the long hours of your day with you.

“When you were pregnant with Lila, you were on maternity leave by now,” he pointed out.

“Because we had no idea what was going to happen,” you countered. You went to your desk and started up your computer. “I had to meet with Tonya once a week, ultrasounds and blood tests all the time, making sure Lila was healthy, that I was healthy. This time around, we have a better idea of what to expect.”

For example, you were experiencing bouts of super strength once again, but it was still intermittent. Although, you pretty much never needed coffee. Maybe the supe genes coursing through your system, thanks to your unborn son, was part of the reason why you’d been able to go such long hours for these cases.

He's already brightening up my life, you thought with a little smile, holding a hand over your lower belly.

“It’s your choice,” Frank said at last. “But it is possible that Ben cares about more than just making you a suburban housewife.”

At that, you sighed. There was nothing wrong with being a housewife, you knew. It just wasn’t…you.

Once your computer and monitors were booted up, you connected to the right channels and put on your headset.

Already you could hear M.M. bitching about keeping the weapons trunk organized, not just tossing things in haphazardly. 

“It’s a simple fucking system, Frenchie. You can at least abide by it,” M.M. said. “We don’t have time to be scratching our asses while you try to find a—”

“Hey, Bert and Ernie. Would you shut the fuck up already?” Ben groused.

Your mouth twitched at his grumpiness.

“A little testy this morning, ey guv?” Butcher remarked.

“Gargle my ball sack,” Ben replied, with an even grouchier deadpan than usual.

“Do you kiss your child with that mouth?” Frenchie teased. 

“Nah, just your mother’s French hole,” Ben slung back. You rolled your eyes. 

“All right, all right. Put the measuring tapes away,” you interrupted. “I’m online, locked on your GPS.”

“Well, if it ain’t Mrs. America herself,” Butcher drawled. “Got a lock on Slingshot’s location for us?” 

“You know it,” you replied. “Sending to the group chat now. Slingshot’s been spotted entering a strip club in Chinatown.” 

“Jeez. A little early for tits and booze. It’s 10:00 a.m. on a Tuesday,” said Hughie.

You heard Ben huff in amusement. “It’s never too early.”

You snorted at that.

“Right. I’ll remember that next time you fall asleep watching Family Feud,” you clipped back.

You heard the other guys trying not to laugh as they got into Butcher’s van. Part of you felt bad for teasing Ben, knowing he was already in a bad mood, but you were feeling a bit petty about what happened this morning.

You had to bite your lip against a smile, as you could picture the ill-tempered face your man was likely sporting.

And we’re off.

Lila wasn’t having a good day. 

She didn’t feel like coloring, and the toys just weren’t fun today.

She just didn’t want to be here. The other kids smelled like old Cheetos and feet (especially the boys).

She missed you. And though she hadn’t wanted to admit it to you, she missed Daddy too.

Lila wanted to go home…she wanted her mom. 

“I’m just downstairs if you need me,” you’d said.

Lila had a kind of plan percolating in her mind, all through the morning, and even through lunch time. She didn’t want to get in trouble, but when she’d asked Miss Sarah if she could go see you, she’d said you were at work and couldn’t come get Lila until later. 

But that’s not what Mommy said, Lila thought.  

After lunch, she laid on the napping mat with her pillow and blanket, even though she was wide awake. She didn’t want to nap with the other kids, even though Miss Sarah told her it was time to sleep. 

Again, Lila didn’t want to be bad. She didn’t want to get in trouble either, but she really, really just wanted to see you.

And you’d said it was okay to go downstairs if she needed you, right?

Lila closed her eyes while Miss Sarah was looking, but she waited until the teacher went into her office to answer a call. Then, Lila carefully put Charlie, her stuffed dog, against her pillow, tucking the blanket up to his neck. 

She crawled off her mat and snuck over to the door while Miss Sarah was distracted on her phone. Lila reached up and was just tall enough to twist the doorknob. It led her out of the room, and out into the empty hall. She then looked both ways for a clue on where to go. 

She heard a ding, and looked over at a nearby pair of elevators.

The mission went more or less according to plan. Slingshot’s abilities allowed him to stretch every part of his body like elastic. It not only made him hard to catch, but even harder to maim without collateral damage. 

A whole block in Chinatown was wrecked in the takedown, but your idea of ripping the cables from a nearby utility pole to electrocute him let Ben finally subdue the elastic supe. Kimiko knocked him out, and Butcher slapped some tight-ass cuffs on him and dragged him into the van. They returned with the rogue supe in custody. 

You were mentally exhausted from helping them track down routes to pin down Slingshot, but you were relieved to be done. You were also satisfied that another danger to society was neutralized, for now.

You took pride in your work, and you didn’t think Ben saw that, or thought it was important. You supposed that was what upset you the most about that fight with him.

Sometimes, you wondered if he would ever truly change.

You grabbed your purse and made sure to slip in your gun and taser. You left your office and greeted Frank, who had just finished making his rounds in the building with Loco’s team. Frank joined you on the way to the elevator.

“I meant to ask you, how’s Alana doing?” you asked. Alana was his daughter, who was now in college.

“She’s changed her major yet again,” he said wryly. “This time to philosophy.”

“Philosophy? That’s interesting. What does she want to do with that?” you asked.

“No fucking clue,” he replied, hitting the button for the first floor. “I just hope she gets bored and picks something practical. Like…teaching, or dentistry.”

You shot him a bemused look. “Dentistry?”

“As much money as I put into that girl’s braces, it’d be good for her to pay it forward,” Frank said, in a surly tone that reminded you of Ben. You had to laugh.

You and Frank exited the elevator and started down the hall.

You planned to touch base with Grace Mallory on the safety measures of Slingshot’s containment before he was put into custody. The idea was to house him in a prison cell that could actually hold him until he went through the legal process. 

But you’d only gotten halfway down the hall before the supe in question literally stretched past you on unnaturally long legs—in a blur of his white and blue supe suit. Your eyes widened on a gasp as you watched him head toward the elevator you’d just come off of. 

“Fuckin’ hell, we’ve got a runner!” Butcher shouted from down the hall. He along with Ben, M.M., Frenchie, Hughie, and Kimiko were rushing your way. 

It all happened so fast. 

You registered Frank shooting out a protective arm in front of you. You turned back to see the elevator doors had opened back up, and Slingshot rushed inside. He made eye contact with you.

Then his arms shot out like rubber bands. One of them knocked Frank into the far wall. You gasped and froze on reflex. 

Ben shouted your name; he was running towards you, getting closer. You were able to meet his wide eyes for a brief moment. He reached out for you, but those stretching arms closed around you first. You gasped when they slung you backwards.

You cried out in shock when your back met a surprisingly solid chest.

Meanwhile, Ben barreled the rest of the way down the hall as the elevators closed just short of his angrily furrowed face.

The stretched arms holding you were tight around your torso, making your grit your teeth as you tried to pull away. They twisted you around so you could face your captor. Or so he could see you.

His natural height was around Butcher’s—dark hair, blue eyes, angular features. He gave you what was probably meant to be a suave smile as those baby blues dragged down your body.

“Hey, baby. Nice heels,” he said. You rolled your eyes.

“So that’s why they call you Slingshot,” you said, still a bit breathless. The elevator started to move. He’d chosen the top floor. “Where do you think you’re gonna go?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he snarked. “Anywhere but here. And you’re gonna help me.”

“How? Being a human shield?”

“For a start,” he smirked down at you. He backed up a step just to take another proper look at you, and he whistled lowly. He took your chin between his sweaty fingers, making you grimace when he stroked your cheek. 

“Down boy,” you said warily. “Trust me, you really don’t want to do this.”

This jackass hadn’t even realized you had a small, but noticeable baby bump.

“Why not, babe?” he grinned. “You’ve got the whole sexy librarian thing going on.” 

You heard a loud creaking sound outside the elevator doors. The compartment itself came to an abrupt stop, making the lights flicker. 

“What the fuck?” Slingshot muttered. His hold around you loosened. 

You had an idea of what just happened, with grim satisfaction. You also took advantage of his distraction and managed to slip a hand into your purse.

You pulled out your taser. Slingshot noticed and tried to grab you again, but the elevator somehow started to move in reverse, about a foot a time. It made both of you lose your balance and utter sounds of surprise.  

As soon as you regained your footing, you aimed the taser at the most sensitive place you could think of—the supe’s dick and balls.

His howls of pain were loud enough to reach Ben, Frank, and the rest of the team on the third floor. Ben’s face became edged with a smirk. 

He kept pulling the elevator cables down until the compartment’s doors were in reach. There he grabbed the doors and pulled them open with his bare hands, crunching metal under his fingers. The moment he saw you, the relief in your eyes, he grabbed your hand and pulled you out, into his arms. 

Slingshot was angry, though he managed to recover, rip off the taser’s metal prongs and wires, and evade Kimiko, M.M., and even Butcher when he slithered his way out of the elevator and around their guns. The bullets ricocheted off the walls, and off his body as they followed him down the hall.

Ben focused on you. He brushed his half-gloved hands over your shoulders and sides while he quickly looked you over. There was worry in his eyes, disguised as anger. You caught your breath and held a protective hand over your lower belly out of reflex. 

“You okay?” he said, but you were already nodding before he asked.

“I’m fine,” you replied. “Just get him. I’ll get Lila.” 

Ben nodded. He shot one last firm look at Frank, who was back at your side. Frank laid a hand on your shoulder as Ben took off down the hall to find Slingshot. 

“The stairs are safer at this point,” Frank said. 

“I would have to agree,” you said, steeling yourself with a breath. 

While you and Frank went downstairs to the second floor, you didn’t see the second elevator ding, its doors opening to your daughter, who ambled out alone. She looked one way down the hall, but hearing her father’s voice carrying down the opposite way, she started venturing in that direction.

If she couldn’t find you, then she’d find her dad. 

“What the hell do you mean you lost her?” you shouted at Sarah, the woman who was supposed to be looking after your daughter. “How do you lose a three-year-old at nap time? What kind of incompetent fuck are you?”

Yes, Ben had unfortunately rubbed off on you. 

Sarah was in tears by the time you were not even halfway done, but Frank calmed you down with another touch to your shoulder. You had tears of panic stinging in your eyes when you met his gaze, your mouth trembling.

“I just radioed in and put Loco and the rest of the security team on looking for Lila. She can’t have gotten far,” he said. 

“Come on! Keep up with me, old man,” Slingshot taunted at Ben. His super flexibility allowed him to keep several steps ahead, dodging any attempts to grab him and any weapons fired with easy dips and playful deflection. 

“When I get my hands on you, you flaccid fuck, you won’t know your ass from your ball sack,” Ben growled. 

But he crashed into the wall when he took a corner too hard trying to tackle the other supe. He picked himself up from the debris of crumbled wall and plaster, ignoring Kimiko’s offer of a helping hand. 

“Big fucking talk from the walking AARP commercial,” Slingshot snorted. He turned around and once again prepared to run. “Try not to shatter a hip, asshole!”

He took off down another bend in the hallway. Meanwhile, Ben shook himself off and joined the others in running after this cocksucker. Ben looked over at Butcher.

“What’s your fucking plan?” he grated out. 

Butcher seemed to have an idea growing in his mind. “What’d she do to him in that elevator?”

“Tased his dick, by the sound of it,” Ben replied. He knew what weapons you kept in your purse, and that you'd know better than to fire a gun in an enclosed elevator. Butcher snapped his fingers.

“Electricity. Bloody brilliant,” he said. He pointed at Hughie and grabbed Frenchie by the collar. “You, with me. I’ve got an idea. The rest of ya, get him pinned down.”

“Easier said than done, motherfucker,” M.M. grumbled. But he followed Ben and Kimiko to find their errant supe. 

Slingshot played a cocky game, but inside, there was fear. 

They’d caught him once, and now, this building was crawling with security, let alone the assholes chasing him.

He was panting for breath when he nearly ran straight into…a kid? 

She was wandering around, trying to open a locked door. He skidded to a stop in front of her, and she looked up at him wide-eyed. He tilted his head. She was a cute little thing with brown hair and green eyes. She wore a blouse with cartoon ducks on it over her jeans and sunshine-yellow shoes. 

“Hey, cutie. Where you going?” asked Slingshot. “Are you lost?”

“Looking for my mom,” she answered, a bit timidly. The supe gave her an easy smile; inside, he knew he’d just found his collateral, and his ticket out of here. 

“Okay. What’s your name?” he asked. 

“L…Lila,” she said. 

“Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he said, with all due charm. He struck a pose, with his fists held up to his waist. “I can help you, Lila. I’m a superhero.”

Her eyes widened. “Really? Like Daddy?”

“Oh, yeah. Your dad and I are friends.” Never mind that he had no fucking clue who her daddy was. He offered her his hand. 

Now, Lila knew not to talk to strangers, but if he knew her dad… 

After a moment of reluctant indecision, she took his hand. Slingshot tapered a smirk into a more friendly smile. 

“Let’s go find him.”  

Ben was ahead of the pack, but he soon came to an abrupt stop with wider eyes. He finally found Slingshot, except he had Ben’s daughter by the hand. Slingshot wore a cocky grin as he took the child up into his arms. 

“Hey, guys. Who’s this little peanut belong to?” he asked. “Said she was looking for her daddy.” 

Ben’s breath turned to lead in his lungs. Lila’s eyes lit up with recognition when she saw him. 

“Daddy!”

Ben’s softer gaze shifted from her, hardening once it reached the other supe. 

“Let her go,” he growled lowly. 

Slingshot’s grin deepened incredulously as he laughed.

“Oh shit, she’s yours?” he exclaimed. “This’s just too fucking perfect.”

“Lila!” your shout came from behind Ben, and you stepped around M.M. and Kimiko.

Ben held out a hand to keep you at bay. He kept his eyes on Slingshot, but Ben heard your gasp. His stomach dipped, knowing your worry had to be reaching new heights as you took in the situation.

“Ben,” you uttered. 

“I’ve got this,” he said to you.

“You don’t got shit, old man,” Slingshot snapped. He shot you a smirk next. “She’s your bitch? Figures.”

“Just let her go,” you implored. You had tears brimming in your eyes. “We can negotiate your release if you promise to be more responsible.”

Ben shot you a glance then. He didn’t intend for this fucker to live, let alone walk the streets of New York again. But he supposed any bluff was worth it at this point.

Meanwhile, seeing the distress on her parents’ faces made Lila begin to break down into tears. She whined, pushing against the supe holding her, wanting to be let go. 

“It’s okay, sweetie,” Slingshot cooed. “You’re just gonna take a little trip with me.”

“No!” a ragged shout tore from your throat when he took a few backward steps down the hall. 

Ben held you back from following him, all while he tensed with rage. M.M. and Kimiko were also poised to try and stop the supe. But Slingshot tightened his hold on Lila in warning.

“Back the fuck off,” he demanded. “Once I get to JFK and get my ass on a plane, maybe, maybe you see your daughter aga—”

He had to stop short, as he sensed something just outside of his peripheral vision.

It was Butcher, coming at him to swing a baseball bat at the supe’s head.

You screamed in protest, but Butcher was relying on the supe’s reflexes to dodge the bat. He wasn’t disappointed. Slingshot dodged. Though in his distraction, it gave Ben the opening he needed to step into his orbit and land a solid punch across Slingshot’s face.

It not only cracked his jaw, but also caught him off guard enough for his grip on the child to loosen. Ben grabbed his daughter and turned her away in a protective embrace.

Then Frenchie brought Slingshot down with the prongs of a massive taser clipping onto his nipples. He jolted and screamed—and went down hard on the tile floor. 

While Hughie and M.M. ushered in the rest of the security team to swarm in and take the supe into custody, you raced forward to Ben and Lila in tears.

Lila was also crying and clinging to Ben’s neck, shaking like a leaf.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” he said quietly, so only she could hear. Lila whimpered and burrowed tighter against his neck.

Tears streamed down your face, but you tried to breathe through it. You rubbed her back and checked her over, making sure she wasn’t hurt. 

For Ben, the force of his relief was pounding in his ears. He briefly closed his eyes as he held his daughter closer. 

When he opened them again, he met your gaze. You couldn’t speak. All you could do was grab onto his wrist for support. He gave that to you, wrapping his free arm around your waist and pulling you into his side. 

“Frank,” he said. His voice was a sharp command. The other man was ready to carry out whatever Ben asked. He also looked relieved to see that Lila was all right.

“Pull the car around,” said Ben. Frank nodded, and went to do just that.

Ben turned to watch in satisfaction when Frenchie and M.M. hauled up a still twitching Slingshot. Butcher slapped a pair of electroshock handcuffs on him that would keep him better contained this time—courtesy of the S.A. armory. He nodded over at Ben, and the latter returned the gesture. 

You missed it all, as you were preoccupied with comforting your daughter.

“It’s okay, honey. We’re going home,” you gently whispered to Lila, who was still hiding her face in Ben’s neck. You shared a look with him, and he gave you a short nod. His hand moved to the small of your back, both protective and possessive as the three of you moved towards the garage exit. 

There Frank waited with the car that would take your family home.

You watched Ben with the beginning of tears brimming in your eyes. You managed to hold them at bay while he set Lila down in her bed. You’d just finished giving her a bath and helping her get into her pajamas after a quiet, somewhat tense dinner. 

Lila still seemed upset in her unusually quiet mood, which you knew was understandable. Ben sat at her bedside and soothed a hand over her head, brushing her cheek with his thumb. 

“You’ve had a crazy friggin’ day, huh?” he asked. Lila didn’t want to look at him, but he encouraged it with gentle fingers brushing her chin, teasing the tip of her nose. She hinted at a smile and finally met his eyes. He smiled back at her, if more reserved. But his expression turned serious again.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. He could see it. She had been more or less fine throughout dinner, but now she’d turned quiet and withdrawn again. She only got like that when she was upset about something.

Lila toyed with the ear of her stuffed animal, Charlie. Frank had retrieved it for her from the daycare.

“Sorry I talked to strangers,” Lila mumbled.

You had to bite the inside of your lip so you wouldn’t cry. You came over to sit on the other side of her bed. You sniffed and shook your head, but Ben beat you to what you wanted to say. 

“You’re not in trouble, all right? We’re not mad,” he said. 

Lila’s lower lip wobbled. Ben sighed and picked her up, plopping her down in his lap. She hugged him as tight as she could and he held her back, warm and secure.  

“You know I’m always gonna be there to keep you safe. You never have to worry or be afraid,” he said. 

You carded your fingers through Lila’s hair so she knew you were there too. Usually, the roles were reversed, where you were doing the comforting and Ben was the solid support. Right now though, you just didn’t have the words. Not when guilt was eating you from the inside out.

Fortunately, your husband did have the words, after he heaved a sigh. 

“I might raise my voice, sometimes, but uh…you never have to be afraid of me either. Okay?” he said.

"Mhmm," Lila agreed.

You laid hand on Ben's arm, gently squeezing. He met your gaze, and knew what you were prodding with just that look in your eyes.

Briefly, he hesitated before he looked back down at his daughter.

"I'm sorry I scared you," he said.

Lila nodded against his chest. “It's okay.”

“Good,” he said, laying a kiss on her forehead. “All right, you ready to go to bed?”

She clung to him and made a sound of refusal. 

You were finally able to crack a smile. You leaned down by her ear. 

“You want Daddy to read you a story first?” you asked. 

Ben shot you a look at the way you volunteered him for that. He was tired and drained. 

But one hopeful, shiny look from his daughter, and he folded like a deck of cards.

Later, when Lila was asleep, you tucked her in one last time and Ben turned out the light. He kept the door cracked open, just in case she called for either one of you tonight.

Then, somehow, you and Ben ended up in the kitchen instead of the bedroom. As exhausted as both of you were, you needed this moment to decompress, with one of your old favorite pastimes…

He broke out the whiskey while you found an appropriate midnight snack, and then a seat with him at the breakfast bar. The two of you shared a companionable silence, as well as a large bag of sea salt and vinegar chips. 

That was sort of how you felt inside.

“Today can’t happen again,” Ben said, breaking the silence. 

You looked over at him, but he was looking beyond you. Maybe so he didn’t have to show you how deeply he’d been rattled. You knew him far too well for that. 

“Of course not,” you replied. And you released a sigh. “So here’s what I’m thinking. From now on I’ll work from home, so I can watch Lila until she goes to preschool.”

Ben got ready to argue, but you held up a hand. The other went to rest over your belly. You had scheduled an ultrasound with Dr. Tonya Baker tomorrow, just to make sure all was well after this ordeal.

“I already plan to take my maternity leave when this guy rolls into town,” you said with a smile. “Then, when I’m ready, and if it’s feasible, I can continue to work from home until all the kids are in school.”

Ben’s lips twitched humorlessly. He should’ve known you’d continue making this a negotiation. He set down his glass, and he reached out to slide a hand over yours, across your belly. He took in a deep breath. But when he let it go, you sensed you still hadn’t convinced him.

“Listen, I know you don’t want me to work—” you began.

“It’s not that,” he said. He made sure you looked him in the eyes when he said it. “It’s not.”

Despite yourself, you read the sincerity in his words. It had you pausing, waiting for him to continue.

“You know damn well…that just being around me is dangerous,” he said. “To you, and to Lila. But you being connected with Supe Affairs, working these missions, even from behind a desk, it’s a fucking risk. It’ll always be a risk.”

You considered that with new understanding. You took his hand with both of yours.

“Ben, this life, this work…it’s the same for me as it is for you. It’s all I know how to do. It’s what I’m wired for. So that’s why it’s hard for me to turn down that dial,” you explained. “But look, I understand what you’re saying. Believe me, I do. And today…today was…”

Your breath hitched as tears stung in your eyes. Ben shook his head and tugged you closer.

“Come ‘ere,” he said.

You left your chair to go to him. You stood between his long legs while he pulled you into a warm embrace. Logically, you knew that what happened today wasn’t your fault. However, part of you still felt like a failure of a mother for underestimating the risks of having your daughter at the S.A.  

You should’ve known better, you berated yourself. And yet, it was Ben’s words that stopped your train of thought.

“Today wasn't on you,” he said. "Get that thought outta your head."

He knew you well too, and this was one of those times. You wept harder against him, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. He held you, comforted you until you began to calm down.

“Take your maternity leave early,” he said. His deep voice was a rumble. “You’re going to have your hands full with Lila when I’m not here. Unless we hire someone to help you.”

It was an idea you could consider, but who could you trust? That was the question. 

Maybe your mother? you thought. You knew she was thinking of retiring from her job in a couple of years anyway.

You sighed and slipped your fingers through Ben’s hair. Your hand came to rest on the back of his neck as you leaned against him.

When Lila came into your lives, you had been so excited to start a family that you hadn’t considered the non-physical side effects. Namely, the sacrifices you would have to make in order to keep your family safe. 

Before you met Ben, your job was your life. But today reminded you that your daughter…and your unborn son, were more important to you than your job. No matter how important that job might be for the rest of the world. 

“Let’s talk about this more tomorrow,” you said, shaking your head. “I can’t think anymore.”

After a beat of hesitation, he agreed with a nod. Like so many battles before, whatever compromise you and Ben finally reached would be hard won. His hand found your cheek and caressed your skin.

“You still try my fucking patience, you know that?” he muttered.

You smiled tiredly. “Did you really expect that to change?”

He scoffed. Even so, he guided you off his shoulder so that he could claim your lips. His kiss tasted like the burn of whiskey. You met his demanding lips in kind, though you were the first one to part from him slowly. 

“I love you,” you whispered a reminder. 

Ben nodded and pressed a kiss to your forehead. He lingered there for a moment, as if he could pause the world for a while. 

He eventually let out a breath through his nose and allowed himself to be honest.

“I love you too,” he said.

With that shared understanding, he stood from his seat. He drained the last of his glass before he bent to gather you up into his arms. You yelped in surprise, clinging to his shoulders.

“Time for some rest,” Ben said. There was a certain smile on his face, gentler than usual.

He forged a path towards the bedroom. You sighed and laid your head against his chest. 

For once, you didn’t argue with him.  

AN: I've been wanting to put this one out for a while now. 💚💚 I so hope you enjoyed this chapter of the BMD verse! Do you like how their little family is evolving? 😘

Ko-Fi Me ☕

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#Calculated Risks #Break Me Down #BMD-verse #soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x female reader #Soldier Boy/Ben #daughter!OC #the boys #the boys AU #the boys season 3 #the boys amazon #soldier boy fanfiction #billy butcher #mother's milk #hughie campbell #jensen ackles characters #jensen ackles #soldier boy/ben #zepskies writes

[lunarparacosm]

jamieeeeeeeee

#he’s so cute #so scrunkly #a scrimblo #he’s my meow meow #my rotten soldier my sweet cheese my good time boy #i want to chomp his face #he’s looking at reg btw #duh #james potter #james x regulus #jegulus #marauders #regulus black #starchaser #jegulus fluff #art #knight au #renaissance au #au #autism #that’s me I’m the autism heh heh #also james and reggie

[jackles010378]

Flannel of Desire

(Dean Winchester X you)

(mentions of intimacy nothing too graphic)

Dean catches you wearing his flannel and likes what he sees 😏

Dean walked into the kitchen of the bunker, his eyes scanning the room for a snack. As he turned the corner, his gaze fell upon you, wearing one of his favorite flannel shirts, sleeves rolled up as you diligently cleaned the countertops. Something inside him stirred, a feeling of attraction that he couldn't ignore.

He leaned against the doorframe, watching you intently, his mind racing with thoughts and desires. The way the shirt hugged your curves, accentuating your every movement, sent shivers down his spine. He couldn't deny the rush of arousal that surged through him, and he knew he had to make a move.

Slowly and deliberately, Dean approached you, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "Hey there, I see you've found my shirt," he said, his voice low and husky. You looked up, surprise flickering in your eyes.

"Yeah," you replied, a faint blush tinting your cheeks. "I hope you don't mind. It was just lying around, and I couldn't resist."

Dean took a step closer, his body now mere inches away from yours. He reached out, his fingertips gently tracing the fabric of the flannel against your arm, sending tingles of electricity through your skin. "Trust me, I don't mind at all," he whispered, his voice heavy with desire.

The chemistry between you intensified, the air in the room thick with anticipation. Dean's hand moved from your arm to your waist, pulling you closer to him. His hypnotic green eyes locked with yours, a mixture of vulnerability and longing shining through.

Without another word, Dean's lips met yours in a passionate kiss, igniting a fire within both of you. Time seemed to stand still as you melted into each other, the taste and warmth of each other's mouths becoming intoxicating.

Desire surged through your bodies as you stumbled towards the bedroom, leaving the kitchen forgotten and the cleaning abandoned. The intensity between you was undeniable, an electric current drawing you closer with every touch, every caress.

Inside the bedroom, clothes were shed like a trail of breadcrumbs, each discarded garment fueling the excitement. The plaid shirt, once innocent, was now a symbol of provocative desire. The soft fabric slipped off your body, revealing your vulnerability and awakening a raw hunger in Dean.

The room became a canvas of discovery, as your bodies moulded into one, exploring one another with unbridled passion. Skin met skin, creating a symphony of sighs and moans that echoed through the walls. Pleasure surged through every nerve ending, the connection between you reaching new heights with each passing moment.

In that moment of pure intimacy, there was no denying the magnetic pull that had brought you together. Dean, with his rugged charm and smoldering passion, had become an insatiable force in your life. It was a night of unforgettable pleasure, a culmination of desire that left you both breathless, sated, and yearning for more.

The following morning, Dean woke up, stretching his arms reaching out for you, only to realise you had gone. He got out of bed and pulled on a pair of joggers and a hoodie and went in search of you. As he made his way down the halls, he could hear you humming. Yet again he found you in the kitchen preparing breakfast for you both, wearing nothing but his flannel. Leaning against the doorframe again he looked you up and down "you know y/n, you keep wearing my shirts, we're never gonna make it out of my room". You placed the wooden spoon on the counter top and turned around slowly to look at Dean "is that a promise Winchester" you replied with a smirk. It took a second for Dean to walk over to you, tugging you close to him and pressing his lips to yours in a fiery kiss. Pulling away leaving you breathless "oh it most certainly is, I will gladly give you all my shirts to wear" he said with a huge smile, kissing you once more.

In that moment, you knew that his flannel had been the catalyst, bringing you both together in a whirlwind of ecstasy. A reminder that sometimes, unexpected encounters can ignite a fire that burns brighter than anything either of you could have imagined.

TAGLIST: @k-slla @cevansbaby-dove @kaleldobrev @janineb86 @deans-daydream @alternativeprincess94 @nescavaneck

#jensen ackles #dean winchester #supernatural #jackles #jensen ross ackles #spn cast #soldier boy #deanwinchtser #jensen ackles gifs #beau arlen #dean winchester x y/n #au dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fan fiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fic

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Not My Brother

Summary: What happens when two guys looking exactly like you show up in your world yet no one bats an eye except the three of you? A whole lot of confusion. Especially when everyone keeps calling those guys you've never met before your brothers...

Pairing: None (features Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen & Ben/Soldiery Boy)

Word count: 8,600ish

Warnings: language, Soldier Boy's language, mention of torture, spoilers for Supernatural, The Boys & Big Sky

A/N: Here's the triplet fic! I wrote this basically a year ago and finally finished! Told from all 3 guys POV's. Enjoy!

_______

Beau

“I’ll be heading out in five,” I said, turning the corner with my eyes locked down onto a file. And smacking straight into a body. Poppernak bounced back, an apologetic look on his face.

“Sorry, boss.”

“It’s fine Pop. What’s…” I trailed off.

Sat in the two chairs in front of my desk were what appeared to be my fucking twins. One had shorter hair and a days worth of scruff on his jaw while the other’s hair was a tad longer than mine, a beard on display. He was a bit more muscular than the other one, which was saying something since they were both strong. The one with short hair was more of my body type, his green eyes flashing with a flicker of surprise at the sight of me but then nothing more. He shifted in his seat, his flannel shirt riding up in the back. 

Meanwhile the other one looked pissed as all hell, jaw clearly clenched. Unlike the other one in jeans and workboots, the angry one was in a pair of sweatpants and a zip up, his sneakers absolutely filthy.

None of this would have been alarming if not for the fact that I was not a fucking identical triplet.

“Nollins found your brothers fighting again,” said Poppernak as I noticed the little scrapes on their cheeks and knuckles. “We brought ‘em to you per instructions.”

“Right…” I said, Poppernak staring at me. Was I hallucinating or something?

“You want to charge them?” he asked just as Hoyt walked into the doorway with a file in hand. 

“I need a signature…well if it ain’t the Arlen boys,” she grinned, looking at my clones sat in the chairs. “Let me guess, Ben started it.”

“I did not!” said the angry one. The short haired one quickly argued against that, Jenny giving me an apologetic smile.

“I thought Ben and Dean were getting along better lately?” she whispered as she held out a file and pen to me.

“Uh, guess not?” I said, quickly scribbling on the form she wanted me to sign. “I need to deal with this.”

“Night guys! Behave for your brother for once,” she said, giving them a quick wave. Poppernak left behind her, allowing me to shut the door and lock it after them. I closed my eyes and spun around, the two men still sat there. Oh god, I was losing it.

“What the fuck is going on!” I said. Dean and Ben shared a look as I held up a finger. “Ah. I know what’s happening. I’m having a stroke. Oh! I bet I slipped on that damn front step that’s been wet all day. I slipped and hit my head and now I’m dying on the ground somewhere. Huh. That’s sad. I never got to get Emily that motorcycle like I wanted. Is she going to cry at my funeral? Stupid question. Of course she’s going to cry. God, I hope she’s not too upset. Poor baby doesn’t deserve-”

My face was suddenly tingling, Ben standing there with his hand clenched as I cupped my cheek.

“You punched me!” I said, the pain feeling way too much like a real hit. “What kind of near-death hallucination is this!”

“Stop being a fucking pussy and man up. You think I’m happy about losing my powers? You don’t see me being a bitch and crying about it,” said Ben. Dean yanked him back, pointing a finger at him. “You want to go again?”

“Shut up and sit your ass down!” Dean growled. He rolled his eyes, turning to me with a friendly enough smile. “Relax dude. You’re not dying, okay? I have a good idea of what’s going on and if I’m right, me and jackass over here will be out of your hair really soon.” He slapped my arm, dropping his smile when I stared at where he’d touched me. 

These guys were real. Like in the flesh real.

“Before you freak out on me, let’s take this conversation somewhere more private, hm? Maybe not a police station? Okay, Chief?” said Dean.

“I’m the Sheriff,” I mumbled, closing my eyes. 

“It’s just a nickname, buddy. You got a house? Let’s go to your house okay, Sheriff?” I nodded in what felt like slow motion, grabbing my jacket as Dean convinced Ben to come with us. 

If I was going to have a mental breakdown, at least the Dean one seemed nice.

“Where’s my airstreamer!” I said twenty minutes later when I pulled up to where my home should have been. Instead, a large, beautiful wood cabin sat in it’s place, nestled in the trees. “That’s not my house!”

“According to google it is,” said Dean. I glanced to my right, glaring at him as he scrolled through my phone. 

“How did you get that!” I said, trying to snatch it away.

“You tossed it in the cupholder, dumbass,” scoffed Ben from the backseat. “Is this numbnuts house or not, cocksucker?” Dean turned in his seat, his features tight. 

“First off, dickwad, I screw women. Second, there’s nothing wrong with sucking cock, got it?” he rolled his eyes and scrolled the phone more. “We totally would have a homophobic alter ego out there in some universe. We’re just that damn lucky. Even you with your Sheriff job and seemingly normal life, I bet it’s fucked up to a degree huh?”

“Yeah,” I breathed out, Dean humming as he stopped his finger on the phone.

“I’m not homo whatever you called me,” said Ben, leaning forward in his seat. “I know what that means. I don’t care if a dude fucks a dude. You just look the type.”

“That’s still a problem, jackass. People don’t look-”

“Guys,” I said, swallowing thickly. “Can we just agree we shouldn’t judge other people, for anything besides their character and focus on more important things like what the fuck is happening?”

“Yes, Beau, excellent point,” said Dean, slapping my shoulder, giving Ben a glare. “Isn’t it?”

“Sure, whatever,” he said, getting out of the car. Dean slid out too with my phone, leaving me scrambling to put the car in park and follow after. “Oh you’re so a dirty cop to afford this place. I can respect that.”

“I am not a dirty cop!” I snapped, Ben raising his eyebrows as I got in his face.

“Well, well. Maybe our little pussy has a dick after all.” I looked back at Dean, his face in an apologetic smile.

“You can see how we got arrested for getting in a fist fight now, huh?” said Dean. He walked past me, slapping my shoulder before putting a hand on my back, guiding me forward towards the house. “So this isn’t your house, Beau?”

“Like I said, I live in an airstream on this plot of land. There’s an old cabin not too far but my house was right here this morning and now-”

“Fuck!” growled Ben. Dean and I froze, carefully spinning around to watch him fall to the ground on hands and knees. He started to shake, Dean moving fast over to his side. I looked around, this close to going back to my dying theory, when Dean hoisted Ben up, an arm around his body. 

“Beau. Inside. Now.” He was moving fast and I jogged up the few front steps to the porch, opening the door and flipping on a light switch. I blinked, catching a framed picture on the wall. It wasn’t one I recalled taking but I could clearly see why.

There was Ben, Dean and I, arms around each, wearing big smiles on what looked like some sort of camping trip.

“Beau!” shouted Dean, already past me and up the stairs, Ben clinging to him for dear life. “Find us a bathroom now!”

“Right, sorry!” I said, jogging up after them. I skirted around them in a hallway, finding a bathroom in the first bedroom I checked. I whistled as I hit the lightswitch, Dean inside with Ben, sitting him down on the floor before he reached inside the shower and turned it on full blast. “What’s-”

“He’s having a panic attack,” said Dean. I glanced down, Ben shaking hard, his eyes staring at the tile floor but not quite seeing anything. I didn’t even notice Dean leave, quickly back in the bathroom and returning to Ben, slapping a pair of noise-canceling headphones over his ears and wrapping a blanket tightly around him. 

Ben blinked, staring at Dean with tears in his eyes, anger and shame in every feature of his face.

“Go ahead and call me a cocksucker all you want man, but I ain’t leaving your ass until you’re though this, understand me?” Ben nodded once. Dean sat back next to him, sighing deeply. “Sheriff? Maybe you want to go tell your wonderful neighbors to fuck off with the fireworks? I want this guy with us when I tell you guys what’s going on.”

“Yeah, I’ll, uh, I’ll be back in ten.”

“Are you a cop? Or ex-military?” I asked Dean half an hour later. We were sitting on the large sectional in the family room of the home, big enough for more than three grown men to comfortably lay on at once. Ben glanced at Dean from where he sat by himself way down, steadily nursing his glass of bourbon and refilling it.

Dean cleared his throat and shook his head.

“You act like it,” said Ben. He said that with certainty, a twinge of remorse in my gut for not realizing he was suffering from PTSD earlier.

“You must have served,” I said to him, Dean sipping from his cold beer. I drank from my own as Ben closed his eyes. “Like Dean said, I think we’ve all had some bad hands dealt to us. Maybe of our own doing, maybe not. I’m still pretty sure this is a fever dream and isn’t actually real-”

“It’s real,” they both said. 

“How do you know that?” said Dean with a nod at Ben. Ben smirked, slumping back in his seat.

“Where I come from, I was born in 1918. When I was a young man, I signed up for a secret war effort and then injected me with Compound V. It made me a superhero. Superstrength beyond what you two can even comprehend. Invulnerability. I never aged past my mid-forties. I was a war hero. A movie star. Women, men, everyone wanted to get fucked by me or be me. And then my team betrayed me, I was tortured for forty years by the russians, and they stuck nuclear waste down my gullet. But I was so damn tough it didn’t kill me. No, no. It made me powerful. I could fucking explode. Bring down buildings. Turn other supes human. Kill them.” 

Ben knocked back his bourbon and smiled, looking between Dean and I.

“I was born exactly like the two of you. Just a boy. Just a man. And I could do all that before they drugged me up and trapped me back in a box. So if all that was real, then I can believe that life has the ability to throw me into another fucking dimension, or whatever the fuck this is, too.”

My eyes couldn’t have been wider, Ben snickering at me but I couldn’t even try to be mad at him.

He’d been a fucking superhero? A superhero? That was-

“I hunt monsters. And demons and the supernatural and a whole bunch of shit. Even took on the devil and God a few times and won. Technically I died in 2020, even though I did that a bunch too, but I was dead dead last I checked and it was also like 2070 something last I knew and according to the calendar in your office it’s like fifty years earlier so something weird is definitely up,” said Dean.

My head turned slowly to him, eyes still wide, mouth gaping now. 

“Also, other worlds totally exist which what I’m pretty sure is happening. We’re all different versions of the same guy in different universes,” said Dean.

“You hunt monsters? What kind of fucked up world do you live in? At least he’s like superman!” I said, pointing at Ben.

“If superman does hard drugs off a hooker’s ass then sure, I’m like that guy,” chuckled Ben. My head whipped back to him, Dean holding up a hand. “Who died and made you the head of this operation in the first place, Deanne weenie? I'm the oldest. I’m in charge.”

“I spent forty years tortured in hell by demons, grandpa,” growled Dean. “I know what the hell I’m talking about so sit down, shut up, and let me figure out a way to get you back to whatever universe you belong in.”

“I spent forty years getting tortured too, cum guzzler. It don’t make you special,” said Ben, getting to his feet. Dean rose fast, the two of them bumping their chests against each other.

“Wait!” I jumped over the ottoman in the center of the couch, forcing them each to take a step back. I took a deep breath, Ben grabbing my arm to yank me backwards.

“Not now, kiddo. I need to finish what I started with this one,” said Ben. I planted my feet but Ben was strong. Maybe not super strong anymore but still, he pulled me back hard and fast. Fast enough to make me trip and hit my head on the way down.

“Ow!” I gasped, wrapping an arm around my head, slowly getting to my knees. When I opened my eyes, Ben was worriedly staring at me, his hand on my head. “Get off-”

“What is going on?” Ben asked Dean, looking over his shoulder. He was wide eyed when he looked back at me, looking me over. “Why the fuck do I feel bad I just did that? I don’t give a shit about you. I don’t know you. I don’t…”

I looked at Dean, his eyes closing. 

“When Ben had his panic attack-” I said, Ben growling. I ignored him, looking to Dean still. “When he was scared, you went full blown…you were acting like you cared about him.”

“For some reason, when that happened, something clicked,” said Dean, kneeling down on the floor beside Ben and I. He found Ben’s gaze and nodded. “It felt like you were my brother. Even when you pushed Beau just now, I don’t hate you when I easily could. I just…”

“Care that Beau’s okay,” said Ben. He held out a hand, helping me sit up, a gut punching hitting me in the stomach. I swallowed, the same thick swallow they were sharing. “Dean.”

“You’re using my name. Now I’m concerned,” said Dean. Ben groaned but I understood where he was going with this.

“Dean, I think what Ben’s trying to say is…this isn’t your guy’s universe and it’s not mine either. I have one brother and he’s not you guys so wherever the hell we are-”

“We’re brothers here,” said Dean. He closed his eyes. “This is our house too. There’s too many pictures of us in this house, the bedrooms are too different, the garage outside has my muscle car in it I’m pretty sure. Which means we’re in a completely different universe.”

“Or we’re not,” said Ben. Dean opened his mouth to argue but Ben slapped his hand over it. “We could be dead. Or in purgatory.”

“I was already dead and you two weren’t there,” said Dean. “Besides, it’s 2023. I was dead and Ben was in a box? Or some shit. We couldn’t die twice.”

“I wasn’t dead in the box, moron,” sighed Ben. “I was just in a coma kind of. On ice. For probably the next forty years.”

I stood up, needing something for the splitting headache between my ears. I left them to bicker in the family room, something nagging at me that this was familiar. It couldn’t be though, right?

I wandered into the kitchen and swiped some pills from the cabinet, ducking down the hall to a bathroom and tossing a few down.

“Guys?” Loud footsteps approached as I existed, holding up the bottle. “How did I know where this bottle would be? I’ve never been in this house.”

“I’d assume the medicine would be in the kitchen,” said Dean, Ben shrugging. I shook my head, shaking the bottle.

“No. No I always keep my medicine in the bathroom. I always have my whole life. My parents did, I did, my ex-wife. Always in the bathroom. So why did I know to go to the kitchen?” I asked.

“Because that’s where Dean keeps them, isn’t it?” said Ben, crossing his arms.

“I think I know what’s happening,” said Dean, very slowly holding up a hand. “Ben. You and I woke up on that trail, remember?”

“Obviously,” said Ben. “Get to the fucking point.”

“Beau, did anything weird happen today? Did you…did you have an emergency? Did you black out?”

“No. I was at work, pursued a thief, caught them-” Dean grabbed my wrist, his face tight. 

“How did you pursue the thief? Was it dangerous?” 

“It was on a motorcycle. It got a little fast but-”

“I know what happened,” said Dean. He dropped my hand and ran his own over his face, eyes wide. “I don’t know how to fix this. Fuck, I think we’re stuck until we die.”

“Fine with me,” said Ben. 

“What happened?” I asked, crossing my arms. Dean shut his eyes and breathed deeply.

“We are in a world where the three of us are brothers. Triplets obviously. And the reason the three of us care about each other and get flashes of things, like knowing where the pills were, are because we’re remembering lives that aren’t ours.”

“Uh…” Dean swallowed.

“Today Ben and I died. This version. We fell off a cliff while hiking. Ben fell and I tried to catch him but we both went over. And you Beau, you got hurt on that motorcycle. The versions of us from this world, they all died today. But for some reason, we all got put in the wrong damn bodies and now we’re here.”

“That makes zero fucking sense,” said Ben. He held up a finger. “Actually, it’s fucking stupid. It makes more sense that-”

“Nope, Dean’s right,” said a voice behind us. I spun around, a young man in his twenties smiling back with a wave. “Sorry, paperwork mix up. I’ll pop you guys back where you belong.”

“Hold up shortstack,” said Ben, striding over to the young man. “If-”

The man disappeared, Ben and Dean still close by. The familiar nagging feeling was gone but the three of us were still there.

“Jack! It didn’t fucking work!” said Dean.

“It did! You three are exactly where you’re supposed to be. Beau, I shuffled a few things around in your universe so Dean and Ben can stay. Ben wants to and Sam wants you to have a fair shot at life too so he’ll see you when it’s time, okay? Talk to you guys when you die! Bye!”

“The fuck is going on!” shouted Ben.

“This is why God should not be a child,” groaned Dean. “We’re stuck. We’re fucking stuck as brothers. For real now. All because man-child druggie over here wanted to not go back to being in a coma. I was dead and I was ready to go!”

Ben threw a right hook, Dean barely dodging it. He tried throwing another but I caught his bicep, yanking him away from Dean.

“Enough!” I shouted, holding up a hand in front of each of them, keeping them at arms length from one another. “You fucking calm down, Ben. And Dean, cut the guy a break for not wanting to go back to being captured.”

“He’s clearly a piece of shit. You heard him talking before, Beau,” said Dean. “I-”

“I said enough!” Dean’s jaw snapped shut, both of them huffing, giving each other dirty looks. “Ben, go take the bourbon and hang out on the porch, alright?”

He said nothing and went past, not without forcefully bumping Dean’s shoulder. When the front door slammed shut, Dean wiped a hand over his face again. “Really dude?”

“Beau, I get you want to be the nice guy but he doesn’t belong here and neither do I,” said Dean. I skirted past him, stopping in the main hall of the house, looking out the front door to find Ben sitting on the front porch with his head between his knees. “We don’t know Ben. Maybe he deserves to be locked up. Trust me, I’d love to be alive again but I want that with my real brother, not this place. Ben and I aren’t supposed to be here.”

“Actually you are,” said that young man’s voice again. We both looked around, the young man sighing. “Listen, Dean. This is Beau’s world, the Beau in front of you. Maybe I went ahead and switched things up a bit, made you guys all brothers and yes, you can recall memories when needed. Maybe I did fuck up Beau’s world. But there’s a reason for that. All three of you need each other. You-”

“I was at peace Jack. I-”

“You were bored out of your fucking mind in Heaven. Hey, you want to get back in the game? Consider this your audition. Help your new brothers,” said Jack. “Beau?”

I pursed my lips, crossing my arms. “Yes, uh, Jack?”

“You don’t have to be afraid of me. But I don’t pop into your world often. You guys don’t get into as much trouble as say, the world Dean lived in.”

“Excuse me but who’s fault was that?” argued Dean.

“My point being, Beau, is to be yourself. Your ups and downs are as valid as your brother’s. Your monsters just don’t come with claws or lasers,” said Jack. “Now I really, really need to go. Dean, magic doesn’t exist here so yeah, you guys are stuck until you kick it. I promise I will pop you back to Sam when you do, okay? Just try to be there for each other. And maybe get a stiff drink in Beau. He’s pretty sure he’s lost his mind. Be sure to stay away from rebar!”

“Little shit!” shouted Dean. He grumbled but was quickly going to the liquor cart, grabbing a bottle of tequila and shoving it in my hands. “Drink.”

“Was that…God? Is God a kid in his twenties?” I asked, Dean ripipng the cap off, and pressing the bottle to my lips. I swallowed back two shots worth before he let me up for air, patting my back.

“Yes…technically he’s his grandson. God was a major dickhead. Jack’s cool but hands off which means-”

“Which means this is for real,” I finished. Dean knocked back some tequila himself before throwing an arm over my shoulders and leading me outside.

“We stuck?” grumbled Ben.

“Yup,” said Dean, sitting down on a porch seat, leaving me to lean back against the railing, taking another swig from the bottle. “Happy fucking new universe to us.”

“It’s actually pretty nice,” I hiccuped. Ben groaned and drank down a fifth of the bourbon bottle without so much as a flinch. I blinked, staring at him as I felt flashes of a memory. “You were in special ops. You went to rehab twelve years ago for a drug problem but you’ve been clean since,” I said. Ben narrowed his eyes at me, smirking darkly.

“Your wife divorced you and left you for a rich schmuck. Oh, and your kid potentially wants nothing to do with you. Sheriff.” I turned away from him, Dean closing his eyes in his seat.

“Can we all just agree to shut up and drink tonight?” sighed Dean. 

“Agreed,” we both said. No one said a word as we silently passed the bottles between ourselves. 

I knew I’d have a killer headache in the morning but I didn’t care. If I was ever going to have an excuse to get blackout drunk in my forties, this was it. But even as the three of us lay on the porch hours later, everyone too far gone to even move, something tickled the back of my mind.

“We used to have sleepovers on our parents porch,” I mumbled.

“Are our parents nice?” breathed out Ben. I hummed. “Is our dad?” His voice was thick, Dean shifting beside me.

“Don’t worry about it man. Look at Beau. I’m sure his…our parents are really nice people, right Beau?” said Dean.

“Good. I don’t want anymore shitty ass parents,” said Ben. I forced my head to the left, finding his back to me. He was soon snoring, Dean relaxing comfortably close by.

Maybe when I woke up, I’d realize this was all a very intense dream that had never actually happened.

Somehow I knew in my gut though that in the morning when the sun rose, Ben and Dean would be exactly where they slept.

And they weren’t going anywhere.

Dean

I groaned as I sat up. Sleeping on the hard wood of the porch had been a mistake. I noticed a blanket had been tossed over myself, Ben snoring loudly off to my side with his own blanket and hugging a pillow to his chest. 

The smell of coffee hit me and I hummed, wearily following it inside. Beau was in the kitchen, sipping on a cup of nearly white colored coffee and the thought to tease him hit me.

“You like to drink a lot of cream in the mornings do we Beau?” I said before I could help myself. Beau slurped it back, his annoyed smile letting the tightness in my chest relax.

“Only if he bought me dinner first,” he chuckled. “And yes, I like cream in my coffee. Sue me.”

“Leave some for the rest of us is all,” I said. He poured me a cup as I got out the carton, the two of us working around each other like we’d done it a million times. It was only when I sat at the kitchen island did I realize he was freshly showered and dressed, a badge and gun on his hip. “You going to work?”

“Yup,” he said, pouring more coffee in a travel mug. “I don’t get the most time off in the world and I’d rather save my vacation days for…”

Emily. In my head I saw a clear picture of her, a protective instinct towards her I’d only felt towards Sam before. Glancing at Beau though, I sensed it too and somehow, I knew it’d be there for Ben too.

“I’m so jealous of you,” I said. Beau fixed the cap on his mug while he worked on putting together a ham and turkey sandwich. “I mean…”

“You want to be a dad. I know. I feel like we’ve had this conversation before,” said Beau. “I get the feeling my daughter adores you and Ben.”

“The bastard has to have a soft spot somewhere,” I said. I glanced over my shoulder towards the front door, a pang of guilt rushing through my veins. “I can keep an eye on him.”

“I appreciate the gesture but Ben’s a big boy. He makes his own choices,” said Beau, sliding his sandwich into a baggie, tucking it away in a soft sided lunch box. “You guys probably have jobs too you ought to get to. Maybe check your rooms?”

“Good idea,” I said. I quietly watched him finish packing his lunch, Beau rinsing out his mug before placing it in the dishwasher. “I guess we’ll see you later today then.”

“Yeah. It’s friday last I knew so maybe we can order some pizzas, try to get to know each other?” I smiled, a small twinge of jealously in my gut again. “Sounds like a plan. Text if you need something.”

“Sure thing,” I said, watching him gather his things and start to head out. He froze halfway down the hall though, spinning around to look at me. His face was curious and bashful at the same time. 

“When you say you fought monsters, that include demons?” he asked. I nodded, his eyes widening for a moment. “Does…does salt actually keep them away?”

I chuckled, looking him over. I liked Beau more and more. “It’s actually ghosts the salt works on. Demons you need either an enchanted amulet or something like that or an anti-possession warding.” I peeled down my shirt collar, revealing my tattoo. “Doesn’t seem like an issue in this world.”

“I’d rather not know the answer to that,” he said, smiling softly. “Later Dean.”

I nodded, the house quiet for a beat. I trudged upstairs, finding a bedroom that I instinctively knew was mine. It was the room the three of us had crammed in the night before, the memory of Ben shaking on the bathroom floor forcing an unpleasant ache.

Only Sam had ever elicited that ache.

But something about Beau, even Ben…it rushed in my blood, made me hope Beau got to work safely. Made me wish Ben didn’t have to endure that kind of fear. 

“This is what I get for complaining that heaven was too fucking boring,” I mumbled. I opened a closet, eyes darting around for clues when I caught a pair of coveralls with my name stamped on the front. “I’m a mechanic? That tracks.”

My phone on the nightstand rang, an unflattering picture of Beau eating a plate of nachos popping up.

“Hey,” I said, flipping through the closet. “I think I’m a mechanic.”

“Actually it looks like you’re a firefighter. Your work badge is sitting on my passenger seat,” he said. “And uh, you’re probably going to be pissed but your name is Dean Arlen according to it.”

“It’s whatever,” I sighed, resigning myself to that fact I’d be spending the next forty years in this world. At least.

“Any luck on what Ben does?” I slipped out of the room, going to the one across the hall. 

“Nope. I just checked…aw, this must be your daughter’s room. It’s so pretty. Will you be my dad?”

“No, idiot,” he laughed. “I might be oldest but-”

“No offense kiddo but I’m pretty sure I’m oldest,” I said, closing the door and heading down the hall.

“Tell you what? I’ll look up our birth records when I get to work. Loser has to make dinner.”

“You’re on, kid.”

“Asshole,” he mumbled. “I’ll drop your ID off at the firehouse, okay? It’s down the block from the station.”

“Ten four, Sheriff.” Beau sighed and hung up as I pushed open a door, this room neat and tidy, a framed children’s drawing on his dresser. I went to the only other room in the hallway, grimacing when I opened the door.

Ben’s room was a disaster. Clothes everywhere. A pungent smell of old spice in the air. There were beer cans and bottles on nearly every surface. I almost decided to give up and assume Ben didn’t have a job when a slip of paper on a covered desk caught my eye. I slipped inside, frowning at it.

“Guessing this one’s mine,” grumbled a voice behind me. I spun around, Ben walking in with a glass of something gross looking. He took a sip and closed his eyes. “We should get a maid.”

“Or you can clean up after yourself,” I said. He chuckled, his features dark. “Is that beneath you?”

“Listen,” he said, putting the glass down and walking up to me, pressing his chest against mine. I was not a small guy but this one…he had twenty pounds of muscle on me easily. He stared me down, narrowing his eyes. “I don’t know how they do things in your universe but in mine, people do what I say, understand?”

“We’re in Beau’s universe so tough shit. Here, you can be a damn man and clean up after yourself.” Ben leaned in close, smashing his nose against mine, a threat of violence in the air that reminded me of when I had the mark on my arm.

“Give me a reason to snap your neck, boy,” Ben growled. “Unlike that pussy cop, I don’t give two fucks about you or anyone else here.”

My instinct was to snap back, headbutt this asshole into the next century. But...if I couldn’t shake the feeling of giving a shit about these guys then that meant he couldn’t either.

“Then kill me Ben,” I said, raising my chin. “Go ahead. If you really don’t care, do it. I won’t even make it hard for you. Because I’ve died. I know where I’m going. You though? Something tells me you might end up going downstairs and trust me, you won’t like it one bit.”

Ben’s hand shot to my throat, a threat in the air. There was no pressure though, only his heavy pants in the air.

Suddenly it was gone, Ben storming across the room, throwing most of the things from the dresser onto the floor. Glass smashed against the hardwoods, items bouncing against the carpet before coming down with a hard thud. He kept his back to me, breathing heavily.

“I’ll take that as you aren’t going to kill me then,” I said. Ben mumbled something, shoulders shaking slightly. “Listen, you got crap? I get it. I get whatever the hell this is too. But it’s the twenty first century. You can get help and be a fucking man too. I have work. Can you survive on your own?”

“I don’t need a damn babysitter.” With a roll of my eyes, I left, going down to my own bedroom. After a minute, I wash changed into a fresh pair of jeans and had found a t-shirt with a fire emblem on it, one I assumed matched the fire station I worked for. I quickly grabbed a black flannel and a pair of white and dark olive green sneakers out of my closet, whistling to myself.

“You look new,” I said to myself, pleasantly surprised they fit so well. I jogged downstairs and noticed Beau had made up an extra pair of lunches while we were talking earlier, grabbing one and heading for the door.

“Wait.” I had my hand on the handle as heavy footsteps came downstairs, Ben changed into a baseball jersey and pair of tight jogger sweatpants. He slipped on a pair of sneakers in the tray by the door, staring at me. “Alright, let’s go, jackass.”

“I didn’t realize I was your fucking chaufer.”

“I’m drunk,” he growled. I nodded back at the kitchen.

“Beau made you lunch. Might as well take it before I drop you off wherever it is you’re going.”

“I’ll be back before then,” was all he said. Two minutes later we were on the road, driving in dead silence. For the first time I caught Ben smiling as we rode along in Baby, his hand running over the dash. “Ah. See this is a car I could drive. Don’t get me wrong. That cocksucker of a brother we have-”

“Don’t insult him.” Ben’s lips pressed into a thin line. “The man might not have fought monsters like I did or had super powers like you but he’s divorced with a teenage daughter. And he’s a cop, in charge of all the other ones. In charge of this town. The man is kind but don’t underestimate him. He’s got crap too. He’s us, remember?”

Ben crossed his arms and stared out the window for ten minutes until we hit the edge of town. I wasn’t sure where we were going but I let muscle memory guide me, eventually coming up to a small complex of doctor’s offices. Ben didn’t move when I leaned forward, recognizing the name on the sign from the letter on his desk.

“You’re an asshole,” I said. I saw his lip twitch up in the passenger mirror. “Go on before I kick your ass out. I got work.”

“You’re such a bitch,” said Ben, climbing out of the car and heading inside the building without a second glance. I shook my head, driving down the road for a few minutes, passing by Beau’s truck out front of the police station. I let instinct take over, eventually finding a fire station down the block. I found an empty spot out front and parked, inhaling sharply.

“Here goes nothing.”

Work was amazing. I wasn’t just a firefighter. I had seniority. I worked on arson investigations. I got to teach little kids on field trips all about fire safety. It was like tapping into these untouched parts of my brain. The more I let go, the more memories filled in. One’s about work, about Beau and Ben. 

Maybe Sam had a point about forcing me to live a normal life like he’d been able to. I missed the hell out of him but I knew I’d see him again and for him, it wouldn’t be that long. In the meantime, I knew two guys that could do with my help right here.

“Howdy, Sheriff,” I said late in the day as Beau and the pretty female cop my brain told me was named Jenny pulled up to the scene of a small house fire. “We just put out that fire, Beau. What you doin’ bringing more hot things my way?”

Beau’s eyes glared as Jenny laughed, smacking my arm. “Oh, I love you Arlen boys. All of you are such flirts. Except Beau. That some sort of big brother thing?”

It was my turn for my face to fall as Beau threw his arm over my shoulder, giving me a tight squeeze. “It must be. My little brothers are such flirts. Especially the baby, isn’t that right, Dean?”

“By twelve minutes!” I said, dread filling my veins as a memory popped into my head. I so was not the baby brother. I hadn’t spent a lifetime of being Sam’s big brother to suddenly be thrust into baby brother status.

“Enjoy it, kid,” Beau whispered in my ear, slapping my back as he pulled away. “Everything settled here?”

“Space heater caused the fire. Minimal damage. No injuries,” I said, Jenny looking me up and down, a twinkle in her eye. “Jenny, you want to grab a drink after work?”

“I would but I have a hot date with Cassie. Unless you want to join us?” 

“Sorry, Dean’s going to have to take a raincheck. We need a little guy time after the incident yesterday. Plus Dean has oh so graciously offered to make us dinner,” said Beau, narrowing his eyes when Jenny wasn’t looking. 

“Right. How is Ben by the way?” she asked. “I thought rehab stuck this time.”

“It did for the drugs,” I said, my mind filling in a gap it didn’t know existed a split second before. “We’re still working on the drinking.”

“He’s cutting down,” said Beau as I found myself nodding along with him. We shared a concerned look, Jenny polite enough to not say anything.

“Well, I know he’s a big softie deep down. He’s making progress which is something,” she said, clearing her throat. “Beau, I’ll do a quick interview and write up the report.”

“Excuse me, are you volunteering to do paperwork? What demon are you being possessed by?” Beau teased. I stared at Jenny, probably too long, Beau grimacing behind her. “Uh, sure. Need a ride back to the station when you’re through?”

“Dean can give me a lift,” she said, a curious smile on her face. 

“Alright. Dean, I’m ducking to the grocery store. You’re making me pizza tonight,” he said. He waved as he walked away, Jenny crossing her arms and staring after him.

“Your brother is something else,” she said, dipping her tongue out past her lips.

“Oh,” I said as it clicked. “You’re hot for your boss.” She grabbed my arm, quite hard for how small she was, dragging me around to the end of the fire truck. 

“Dean, I told you I don’t know how I feel about Beau. I just…don’t say anything to him. Or Cassie or Ben or anybody, got it?” I held up my hands, Jenny letting out a small exhale.

“Can I ask a personal question?” 

“Careful, Dean,” she said but nodded anyways.

“Why not me? What’s so different about Beau and me?” I asked. She smiled softly, resting her palm on my bicep.

“You’re sweet, Dean. A good friend. You boys are similar in ways but Beau’s friendship…it lifts me up if that makes sense. There’s a light to him that-”

“I understand,” I said, flashes of memories that weren’t my own but were popping into my head. “Beau’s the good brother, Ben’s the bad one and I’m the one that’s known for sleeping around.”

“You’re known for pushing women away when they start getting to close Dean. I know you boys have only been in town a year but I’d guess that’s who you’ve always been. It’s a shame. You’d really make someone happy if you just let yourself.”

Awesome. I was the same guy in this universe, just without a legitimate reason for being alone.

“Thanks, Jenny,” I said when she pursed her lips. “Honestly.”

“Life’s funny. It doesn’t mean it’s too late for anything,” she said, walking past me. “If you know what I mean.”

“Like you wanting to fuck my brother?”

“Shut up Arlen!” she said with a huff. “All you fucking men…”

I had the feeling Beau was still very much in love with his ex-wife. Yet…something told me Ben and I got on his back about Jenny. One man and two potential women to enjoy?

I’d rather deal with the devil all over again.

Ben

My head was fucking killing me and not just from the hangover. Everything was so fucking confusing. There was too much information in my head. It was too fucking much. I knew what the internet was and bluetooth and all those other fake fucking words Hughie had made up. Or I thought he’d made up.

I’d been gone almost forty years and in that time everything had changed so fucking much.

Funnily enough, I fucking enjoyed therapy. It turns out I wasn’t a complete piece of shit. If you don’t give a shit about everyone equally, you’re just an all around asshole which was a step up in my book. 

But apparently my language was “inappropriate” or some shit. It “hurt” those around me. Like my brothers. Yeah right. Those two little shits would get hurt walking to the damn mailbox in my world.

Maybe not Dean. He seemed…angry in a way Beau wasn’t. But they were both still pussies by all standards.

It was getting late in the afternoon as I walked down yet another sidewalk in downtown, the air slightly cool. It must have been early fall based on the few trees starting to turn color. 

“Hey Ben,” said a gorgeous woman with a small wave as she struggled to get her keys in the door. Cassie. She was Beau’s friend and by proxy, mine too. 

“Hey,” I said, walking over, resisting the urge to comment on her ass as I took a box out of her arms.

“Thanks,” she said, opening up the shop door. “Today’s been a disaster. I can’t believe it’s already after three and I’m only now just getting in.”

“I bet,” I said, following her inside, trying very hard to keep my mouth shut. I mean this woman looked good. The old me from before Russia would probably already be screwing her over the desk by now.

“You’re abnormally quiet,” she said, taking the box from my arms. “And no flirting? I bet your interview didn’t go as bad as you think.”

“Interview?” I asked, Cassie rolling her eyes at me. 

“You know, the one you were supposed to have today…the security thing?” Memories flashed in my mind about Beau and Dean pulling strings with a friend of theirs to get me an interview with a private security company. A job I could clearly recall not wanting in the first place.

“Oh. Yeah,” I said, catching a clock on the wall. This supposed interview was in less then fifteen minutes. “Doesn’t sound my style.”

She suddenly looked annoyed, setting the box on a counter off to the side. “Well I’m kind of busy so maybe you should go anyways.”

“Baby-”

“I have a boyfriend, Ben,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “Go to the interview for your brothers sake.”

“Whatever,” I said, leaving and walking once again. It only took five minutes to find the place I was supposed to go but I didn’t want a fucking job. The only job I’d ever had was being a supe. A movie star. Model. All of those I’d made the rules.

Anyone who tried to make me do anything other than what I wanted could get fucked.

One Hour Later

I took the fucking job. Why oh why did I say yes to that fucking job? Worst of all, they wanted me to start on Monday.

At the fucking daycare. They wanted me to work at a fucking daycare at the front desk. Me. 

“Hey,” said Beau, pulling up to a stop on the street as I sat on a bench, a stack of black polos with the security logo stamped on them beside me. “You cool?”

“Just get me the hell home,” I grunted, grabbing the shirts and pilling into the passenger seat, grateful when he kept his mouth shut most of the way there.

“So uh, Cassie texted me.” I glared at Beau, his eyes on the road. “I guess you had a job interview?”

I mumbled the story to him, Beau making a surprised sound when I finished. “What’s that supposed to mean, dickhead?”

“Means they must like you, must think you have the capacity to deal with an environment full of kids all day,” grinned Beau. 

I would have slapped him in the face if he hadn’t been driving.

“If I’m lucky I’ll die snorting coke off a whore’s tits before Monday,” I said, Beau frowning as we pulled up to the house. 

“Don’t do that,” he said when I was halfway out the door. I rolled my eyes, Beau’s face so pathetic looking though that I closed the door and sat back in my seat.

“Why not? I don’t want to be here and the world don’t want someone like me in it. I was someone in my universe. Here I’m a mooching scumbag apparently. So who cares if I go out the fun way?”

“I do.” Beau shook his head at me, my annoyance growing. “God, Jack, whatever…that kid put you and Dean in my world for a reason. Dean, I get. He died young and this is a chance to live a normal life. Me? Maybe I do things differently and don’t bottle up my shit and move on from my ex. And you? Maybe you need to get rid of your superiority complex and learn to just be a normal person without superpowers or torture or whatever. So don’t do something stupid cause I will find you in the afterlife and I will kick your ass if you do.”

“Fine,” I grumbled. A minute later I was in my bedroom, frowning at the space. It was pretty fucking filthy. “Why don’t we have a fucking maid again?”

“Because we’re not rich,” said Beau as he walked past my open door. I heard him go into a bedroom and exit a moment later sans his firearm and badge, his shirt untucked. “Dean’s making homemade pizza when he gets in.”

“Good. I’m starving,” I said, following Beau downstairs. “How much to get you to clean my room?”

“What did I say to you not five minutes ago?” asked Beau, spinning around on the stairs, looking up at me. “Find a closet or bathroom. I’m sure there’s cleaning supplies in there.”

“Well I’ve never cleaned shit so how was I supposed to know that?” Beau raised his eyebrows. “What? I grew up rich and then got even richer.”

“Well I seriously doubt mom and dad would let you get away with not cleaning your room. Think and you’ll remember.” I frowned. Of course I knew how to fucking clean something. It didn’t mean I wanted to.

“Still stupid,” I mumbled.

“Ben,” said Beau, raising his voice. “I know you think you’re hot shit but you are a sorry excuse for a man. Start acting like one and maybe every conversation you have won’t be a fight.”

Beau went downstairs, leaving me standing there feeling for the first time in a very long time like maybe my dad had been right.

I really was a fucking disappointment.

I cleared my throat an hour later as I went downstairs to find Beau and Dean laughing in the kitchen. They turned their heads when I walked in, a strange awkwardness settling in my gut.

“I uh, cleaned my room,” I said, glancing at the three ready pizzas. “One of those for me?”

“Come on, man. You can make up your own,” said Dean. I settled next to him, looking at the different topping options. “I heard you got a job today.”

“Yeah,” I said, sprinkling some pepperoni on top of one. 

“So what was it like growing up rich?” asked Dean. “Personally we had jack shit after I was four. Nice to know I was well off in one universe.”

“It was alright,” I said, Beau passing me a bowl of peppers and onions. “Actually it sucked. I was never good enough for my dad.”

“Been there, done that,” said Dean. “I mean, I made up with my dad eventually but it wasn’t until after he died.”

“My dad’s nice,” said Beau softly. “Our dad. You guys will like him.”

“I’m sure we will,” said Dean, nudging my ribs. “Hey. Even if he’s not perfect, beats being tortured for forty years, am I right?”

“You have a point.” I put some extra jalapeños on my pizza before I was done, Beau hopping up on the counter. Dean grabbed a few beers from the fridge, handing one to each of us and then putting the first pizza in the oven.

“So,” said Beau, taking a draw from his bottle. “I know this situation is kind of crazy but not gonna lie, I don’t mind having some company at home again. Em stays with her mom a lot lately.”

“I lived with my brother most of my life,” said Dean with a small smile. “It’s not half bad.”

They both glanced at me, waiting for me to share something personal. I resisted the voice at the back of my head screaming for me to snap an insult back at them.

“I’ve kinda always been on my own I guess,” I said, fiddling with the bottle in my hands. 

“Well not anymore,” said Beau.

“Just stop calling us pussies all the time?” asked Dean, a smirk on his face.

“No promises,” I said, Dean slapping my back.

“Told ya you’d warm up to us,” he said. I rolled my eyes, Beau chuckling into his beer. “We’ll work on it.”

Beau held up his bottle, raising his chin. “To Ben working on his potty mouth.”

“To living in a world where we can have normal lives,” said Dean, lifting his. I tilted mine up, nodding once.

“To my new, weird as fuck, brothers.” 

“I’ll drink to that,” said Dean, throwing an arm over my shoulders, a strange warmth filling me up. “Now who’s hungry?”

________

#Dean Winchester #Soldier Boy #Beau Arlen #Spn fanfic #big sky au #the boys au #crossover #fanfic

[emotionally-enervated-conagher]

Crazy how this all stemmed from someone making fun of Dell’s gunslinger hehehe

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Bonus: Whatever tf is happening in this current rp chain JSJFJSJAJ

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The Awesome rp blogs involved in this >X] V

@emotionally-composed-spy

@emotionally-clumsy-soldier

@emotionally-inept-medics

#they’re all so SILLY #i love them all <3 #also the snake medics are so badass HEHE #props to the anon that turned him into a snake boi <3 #so fitting #emotionally xyz mercs #coffeetalks #tf2 #engineer tf2 #soldier tf2 #spy tf2 #medic tf2 #emotionally clumsy soldier #emotionally composed spy #emotionally inept medics #emotionally enervated conagher #dell conagher #m!a #catboy m!a #animal mania tf2 au #<- maybe the tag for this i dunno SHDHSJ #technicalgator art

[necrolexic0n]

made this super sick wallpaper for myself

yall can use it too if you’d like! :]

#utmv #undertale au #undertale #sans undertale #horrortale #horrortale sans #horror sans #ht sans #my beloved💋💋💋💋💋 #yall have no idea how much i adore horror sans genuinely #that is my rotten soldier my sweet cheese my good time boy

[jvngkook97]

Can I pls request a really fluffy emotional and suggestive scenario after jimin coming back from military enlistment 🥺💖

This Love is Ours

synopsis; in which your boyfriend finally comes home.

pairing; military!jimin x girlfriend!reader

genre; angst, fluff, humor, smut, established relationship, military au

warnings; Jimin in a UNIFORM is a warning in itself yall!!! due to being in the army, it is unfortunate reality that you’re bound to get injured in some form (whether that be mentally or physically) and so has our jiminie 😢 (nothing serious or graphic dw) which causes slight angst and emotional moments between him and reader, otherwise they’re just two people in love catching up on time lost OH and uh sex, there will be sex(x2) ok that’s all

rating; 21+ MINORS DNI

w/c; 4,230

a/n; this is such a sweet request, I’m almost tempted to make it a scenario with all the members at some point in different variations cause I’m still in my feels about Jin like I’m sure some of you out there are as well. this is also a scenario I personally relate to so this hits so much closer to home. truly, I hope you enjoy and ty again for the request!

You scan the flood of people exiting customs, looking for the familiar face of your boyfriend. All around you are people greeting their loved ones, joyous at the opportunity to hug and kiss after time apart. You would feel lonely in this crowd, if not for the knowledge that you’d be doing the same thing with Jimin soon enough.

Then, at long last, you spot him.

And given the huge grin on his face, it looks like he’s seen you too.

You can’t hold yourself back – you run towards Jimin, forcing him to drop his bag as you throw yourself into his arms. You think you notice him wince, but all too soon he’s squeezing you back.

The impact of your bodies colliding had taken both of you off guard, unused to the feeling after so long apart, but it seems you’re both eager to relearn your bodies’ personal intricacies.

Still wrapped in each other’s arms, you lift your face, inviting him to meet you in the middle. Jimin’s face softens, and he closes the short distance between you to claim your lips as his own.

If you’d been worried about losing your connection to Jimin while he was away, this is all the reassurance you need. If feels like a once loose thread has been pulled taught between the two of you, connecting and tethering you together at this exact moment in time – and saving that, the warm, strong arms of Jimin are there to keep you steady. After a long, blissful moment, you pull away, though your foreheads still stay touching.

“I have to say, that was the perfect welcome home, y/n.”

His eyes are showing nothing but love and adoration for you, his words melting your heart.

“We’re only getting started, my love.”

Jimin raises an eyebrow, smirking at the implication. Fully detaching from you, he takes a moment to properly look at you. You enjoy the curves of his smile and the affection shining in his eyes.

“You look….adorable.”

“This old thing?” You wave your hand over your outfit nonchalantly. “I just threw it on.”

That was a lie. Yes, you didn’t quite want to overdress for an airport pickup, but at the same time you didn’t want to look as if you just rolled out of bed to come here. And thus, your outfit of choice, tried and true – black leggings with an oversized hoodie, BUT not just any hoodie, it’s your favorite. Why, you ask? Cause it’s actually Jimin’s. And it’s one of the first clothing items you casually ‘stole’ from him during the period of your relationship.

Not that he minded. Regardless, you still do a little twirl to show off your outfit. His sweet smile is praise enough.

“You are by far, the cutest chaperone in this whole airport.”

You roll your eyes playfully, but can’t help the smile that immediately splits across your face.

“You’re biased.”

He raises a finger to boop you on the nose.

“But right.” He dramatically winks.

Now it’s your turn to scan his outfit, and it takes everything you have not to openly drool at the sight of him in his uniform. You’d be lying if you said that it wasn’t a turn on for you. When your eyes get fixated on his adorning medals along his breast, your thoughts moving to rather unholy ones, he has to bend down to initiate eye contact with you to get your full attention again. The cheeky grin on his face let’s you know that he’s more than aware where your mind drifted off too.

“Careful, darling. Or I may just have to take you into the bathroom and have my way with you.”

His voice is teasing, but his dilated pupils let you know that if you’re not careful, he’ll do just that. Then, Jimin hoists his bag back over his shoulder and offers you his hand. You slide your small one into his with ease, fingers interlocking.

Jimin gives your hand a quick squeeze, appreciating even this minor contact, and you can’t help but feel hyper aware of the warm toughness of his palm against yours.

You begin walking with Jimin to the parking lot, nearly unable to tear your eyes away from him – as if you still can’t believe he’s really here. He notices you staring at him, and grins.

“Thanks again for picking me up.”

“Anytime, baby.”

“I gotta be honest, I probably could’ve made my own way back but….I really wanted to see you, as soon as I could.”

“I’m happy you did, cause honestly I’m so glad you’re back.”

“Me too.” His thumb traces over the back of your hand as you walk. “And I want to spend every second I can with you.”

“Careful, I might take you up on that.”

“Perfect, I was counting on it.” He hesitates with what he says next. “Apart from my PT I should be pretty free at least. Though I am supposed to be spending this time recuperating, I have some other ideas too.”

He winks at you and you feel a thrill run through you. With him so close at last, it feels like everything he does is that much more electric to you.

Your eyes scan the many passerbys on their way to their gates and those who are trying to make their way out, like you and Jimin. For it being so late at night, you didn’t expect the airport to still be as busy as it is. Another pulse of excitement runs through you as you say your next words, the strangers that walk pass you none the wiser to your rather risqué conversation.

“Maybe I should be your nurse…” You smile at him, already anticipating the potential for role play. “I want to make sure you’re still being a very good patient after all.”

“With you as my nurse, my heart rate would never be stable!”

“We’ll have to put you on bed rest.”

He gives you a dark look, one full of promises.

“Only way I’m going on bed rest is if you’re in it with me.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

His dark demeanor diminishes for a moment as he suddenly becomes sincere.

“Honestly, I totally love the idea of you being my nurse, but I’m gonna be fine on my own too.” You bite your lip to prevent the frown that wants to appear. You know he’s right, but you’re just worried about him. “I’m kinda itching to do things again after being stuck in bed for so long.”

“That makes sense.”

Talking with Jimin again has been so exhilarating that before you know it, you’ve reached the parking lot. You help him load his bag in your trunk, and once the two of you have gotten seated in the front, does he turn to you.

“Ready to see my new place for the first time?”

Oh, right, you think. You forgot that before he left on deployment, he sold his old apartment in hopes of finding another – one that’s actually a lot closer to your own. You have yet to see it in person, only ever seeing it through pictures he sent you that were public view for the listing.

“Totally!”

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

The ride to Jimin’s place is short and easy. On the way, you notice a few landmarks that you see yourself on the daily, which really does tell you exactly how close this new apartment is – practically within walking distance if you’re being honest. You love it. Before you know it, he’s grabbed his bag out of the trunk and is now leading you inside his new place by the hand.

Crossing the threshold, he shuts the door behind you, setting his duffel bag down in the entryway to stand side by side with you to survey it himself. The apartment came with all the amenities and fully furnished, leaving him with little to nothing to buy and for that he is grateful.

All that’s missing, he thinks, is the little touches of you. Back in his old apartment it varied room by room, but he came to love seeing a little bit of yourself in each room. Cause even when you’re not there, it always calmed him down, and uplifted his spirits when he saw them.

“Well, I guess this is you settled in!”

You’re not really excited about leaving him alone, but you figure it’s better to let him rest rather than keep him up all night.

His face becomes crestfallen when he realizes what you’re saying.

“You mean, you don’t want to stick around a bit longer?” He steps closer to you, both hands finding the junction between your hips and thighs. “Maybe…spend some more quality time together?” His smirk and innuendo-laden question is clear, he’s definitely interested in getting up to some trouble.

It’s only when you’re splaying your hands on his chest, one hand slowly sliding over the multiple medals, do you respond.

“You better get closer than, baby.” Much to your dismay, and pleasure, he doesn’t take you up on your offer right away. Rather, he leads you to the bedroom.

He sits on the edge of the bed before gently tugging you closer by the hands, indicating he wants you to sit on the bed beside him, which you do. A hand comes up to cradle the side of your neck, and uses it to bring your face closer to his. He looks deeply into your eyes, before finally closing the distance and kissing you.

Deciding you don’t like the current position, you have another one in mind. With quick movement you shift on top of Jimin, one leg on either side of his as you straddle his lap. He raises an eyebrow at you in both amusement and intrigue.

“Can’t have my patient overexerting himself, can I?”

Jimin chuckles before leaning up to kiss you again. Then, he focuses on appreciating each and every part of you – caressing your hips, your waist – stroking you as he kisses you with love in every touch.

Breathless from the pleasurable assault, you pull away from his kiss with a request, you and your body needing more.

“I want you to be rougher, baby.”

Jimin wastes no time in accommodating your request, responding by roughly pulling you against him as he grinds his hips against you, nibbling at your neck as his hands grab at your ass in a vice grip.

Bottoms seem to disappear in no time as the two of you succumb, lost in the tidal wave of sensations your movements elicit in your bodies. You dig your nails into the thick fabric of his uniform, not even caring when the sharp edges of his medals dig themselves into your palm, almost like a sense of defense the uniform is putting up against you itself in reply. The feeling of Jimin’s lips on you, his arms holding you – everything in this moment is the perfect celebration of your reunion.

You have no idea how long it’s been when Jimin pulls away with a rueful look, even as you whine at the loss of his warmth against your skin. His hand lightly comes up to brush a stray hair out of your face, tone guilty.

“I hate to say it, but we should probably stop here.” He kisses the pout that forms on your lips away and explains his reasoning. “I have a PT appointment early tomorrow morning, and I highly doubt I would get any sleep if you stuck around.”

You sigh loudly, throwing yourself back on the bed, but give him a sullen look of agreement.

“You’re right, I’d want to keep you up all night, soldier.”

You both sit up, pulling your bottoms back on and into place, enjoying a few more sweet and slightly more chaste kisses before you stand to go. Then he’s walking you back to the front door, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek in farewell.

“See you soon?”

“Definitely.”

When you turn down the hall to leave, he yells out one last request of his own that has you smiling at how caring he is.

“Text me when you get back home, please! Otherwise I won’t be able to sleep and it’ll be all your fault!” The last word becomes more sing songy, and you throw up two thumbs up in reply before he winks at you and shuts his door, leaving you alone in the hallway with your thoughts.

But as you go, you can’t tell if you’re more happy to have Jimin home – or more worried about if he’s going to be okay. Something at the back of your mind is telling you that you still don’t have all the information on how he’s really doing.

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

The Next Day

Jimin opens the door with a huge grin on his face, excited to see you. You smile back, unable to do much more given the bags full of food weighing down your arms.

As soon as he notices the grocery bags he grabs some of them from you, ushering you further inside and helping you unpack the bags on the counter.

“Want to help me cook?” You blow at a stray piece of hair that landed on your face from the exertment, Jimin wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into him, kissing the top of your head before replying enthusiastically.

“Of course I do! What are we making?”

You told your head up to look him in the eyes.

“Do you know how to make carbonara?”

“No, but that would be delicious.”

The two of you set to making dinner, with Jimin prepping ingredients as you start getting the oven ready. The space is close, but each movement both of you make seems to become a dance – Jimin elegantly moving to the side when you reach for a drawer, you bending down when he reaches for a shelf, every step making it seem like you had always been working in tandem in this kitchen.

Then, after prepping everything, you and Jimin set to cooking – or, you try to focus on cooking, but instead end up flirting with each other while barely keeping the meal from burning.

When Jimin surprises you again with a kiss, you can’t hold back any longer. Returning the kiss, you turn completely towards him, hugging him around the waist. And you’re sure you could’ve stayed like that for ages except—

“Oh shit, is that burning?”

Your eyes widen as you let out a small gasp.

Yep. Dinner is now going to be served lightly charred, but you can’t find it in yourself to be upset at Jimin at all. You probably would’ve tried the same thing if he’d been cooking for you!

“I don’t know what it is about you, y/n, but I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”

“Well, that’s good.” You start playfully. “Since I don’t know if I can say the same about this dinner.” You end with a joke to lighten the mood and Jimin laughs exuberantly, grinning cheekily.

“I’m sure it’s still going to be amazing, after all you were the one to make it.”

You coo at him lovingly, making kissy faces that have him rolling his eyes at you as he fake grimaces. You just laugh.

The two of you bring your food to the living room to eat, more comfortable on the couch than in straight-backed chairs more suited to formal dining. Luckily, dinner came out just fine, though of course both of you are more focused on each other than the subtle flavors of the meal.

He clears his throat.

“So, tell me everything. What have I missed since I got deployed?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, what have you been up to? Anything you didn’t get to tell me over text?” He pushes his food around with his fork, eyes somewhat sad. “I don’t like thinking I’m missing out on your life.”

“Well–,” you mimick his action of now pushing your own food around your plate with a fork, ultimately deciding to take another bite before responding. “I’ve been looking at possible vacation spots.”

His mood perks up at the new topic, eyes wide with intrigue.

“Oh, really? Like where?”

“Somewhere with a lot of history and culture, yet plenty of ways to relax with downtime. You know? Somewhere adventurous, yet full of untapped knowledge.”

He nods in agreement, taking another bite of food himself.

“It’s always so interesting to visit places like that. Make sure to look at hotel rooms for two, okay?”

He’s casual as he says it, and your heart becomes full of warmth at the thought of both of you going on a vacation together. It’s been so long, and long overdue. You couldn’t wait.

You give Jimin a quick kiss on the cheek before taking a moment to think of how to continue the conversation. It’s not as though you’re at a loss of words…moreso you’re not sure if you want to broach the topic of what he was up to on deployment and how or where exactly he got injured.

He’s refused to tell you, always quick witted with changing the topic before you press for more. Sighing inwardly, you choose not to ask.

He’ll tell you when he’s ready, right?

“What are you most excited for now that you’re home?”

“Spending all the time I can with you of course!”

You shake your head lovingly at him, smile on your lips.

“That’s what you’ve been saying since you got back!”

“But it’s true!” He throws his arms up in the air, before leaning back against the couch. His focus is on you, and he’s smiling softly. “How else am I supposed to feel, especially when I have you sitting right in front of me, completely and utterly gorgeous?”

You shrug indifferently.

“Okay. Maybe I see your point.”

You give him a wink and he exaggeratedly reacts to catch it, making you smile wider.

By now, you’ve both finished with dinner, and after clearing away the plates Jimin leans in to kiss you, leading you back towards the couch before lying down on it and pulling you on top of him. But where this move might’ve been the perfect opener in the past, when you land on top of Jimin this time his face freezes and he shouts out with pain.

“Shit–Damnit–“

You immediately get up off of him, caught off-guard and worried. For the first time since you met Jimin, heck, even started dating all those years ago, it feels like you could actually hurt him – and you don’t know what to do.

Your bottom lip trembles, eyes beginning to water with unshed tears. Jimin notices, and schools his face after a moment, both hands coming to reach back out for you.

His voice is soft and gentle, no hint of malice towards you at all.

“Hey, baby, it’s okay. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” You have to clear your throat with how watery your reply sounds, and it breaks Jimin’s heart to see you broken over him.

“Completely.”

Despite your hesitancy, Jimin sounds confident – and he even cocks an eyebrow at you before continuing.

“In fact….why don’t we bring this to the bedroom?” He sits up, face perfectly aligned with your stomach which he kisses, hands coming to knead the outside of your thighs. “Really rediscover each other’s bodies?”

The sensual, gravelly tone of his voice sends pleasurable shivers through you, but you can’t help but take a moment to think about if you think he should be doing this right now….though he should know his own body well enough that it would be okay.

“If you’re absolutely sure, Jimin…then that’s what I want too.”

He wastes no time in leading you to the bedroom.

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

Once inside, he shuts the door behind you and pushes you against it, careful to pillow your head with his hand before it can hit the hardwood behind it. He leans in, kissing you fully, deeply, and with a renewed fervor that nearly overwhelms you.

You can’t stand the clothing keeping his hands from your skin, and with just a moment’s break between your lips and his, your shirt is off. Not one to be upstaged, he strips down to his briefs, eager to continue.

You have to stifle a gasp at finally seeing him like this, shirt off and all, bandaged so heavily still after his recuperation overseas – you didn’t know. Sure, he told you that he got pretty banged up during a mission, but you never would have imagined it was to this amount. Luckily, it seems like Jimin either didn’t notice your surprise, or was expecting it, as he smiles gently at you, waiting for you to make the next move.

Not wanting to linger on something that Jimin isn’t ready to fully divulge you on, you decide to focus yourself back on the task at hand – him. And right now, he’s patiently waiting for you to make a decision. However, he never expected you to say what you did next.

“I want you to take me on the rug.”

His eyes flicker to the large, thick, plush, extremely soft material of the rug that lays a few steps away from you two, right at the foot of the bed.

He blinks, looking back up at you. And then a devilish smile spreads across his face. He takes a few steps towards it before kneeling down to settle himself on the rug, ditching his briefs during the descent and leaving more than enough space for you to join him. You follow his lead, and as soon as you lie next to him he renews kissing your chest, your neck, and then reclaims your lips with his.

“Wait–,” he pauses, confused and mildly worried he did something wrong. You quickly explain yourself. Pointing at your pants. “I’m still wearing my bottoms!”

“Oh.” He let’s out a small laugh of relief. “Let me help you with that then.”

Jimin backs off enough to allow you to slide off your bottoms before eagerly grabbing at you again, kissing you with a vigor and grinding his hips against you. You let out a shaky gasp at the contact, already aching for more.

Jimin reaches his hand between you to join the two of you. It feels like you’ve been made whole, a moan escaping your lips before he covers your mouth again with his, trying to communicate through his actions how much he missed you, how much he loves you.

With each thrust you’re further lost to the pleasure, fully succumbing to the strength of Jimin’s arms around you, his lips setting you on fire everywhere they touch, and the incredible feeling of him moving against you.

Soon, you feel yourself reaching a peak, and somehow you and Jimin are in tune enough that when he begins to shudder, biting at your shoulder in ecstasy, you join him following close behind, moaning loudly.

The two of you lay there for a moment, basking in the afterglow, before you regretfully have to get dressed again to head home. Jimin dresses as well before walking you back to the living room to say goodbye.

Even as you linger next to the front door, you can tell he wants to say something, but is nervous too. You tilt your head at him, soft smile on your face of encouragement.

“We should book it.”

Your smile is still there, but he can tell by your facial expression that you have no idea what he’s talking about, he laughs nervously. You’ve been dating for years now, it should be easy to talk with you, but with the forced time apart of him joining the army and what he’s been through personally – it’s just not as simple anymore.

But it’ll get better, he will get better, and in turn so will you as a couple.

He’s sure of it. And with his next statement, he’s hoping to solidify that sentiment.

“That vacation. We’ll look at places tomorrow. I don’t want to waste anymore time, or lose out on precious memories that can be made with you. So, what do you think?”

Your smile turns into an ‘o’ shape, eyes widening when you come to the realization of what he’s asking and talking about. Before he has time to think, you’re cautiously throwing yourself at him, just enough to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a breathtaking kiss, one in which he reciprocates with just as much emotion, chuckling into the kiss.

When you both pull away, he asks you another question.

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes! Of course! I can’t wait!”

His eyes soften as he scans every inch of your face, voice just as tender.

“I feel so lucky to have you.”

“I’m the lucky one, Jimin. And I’m so happy to have you home.” A comfortable silence looms over your still figures, until you break it with a timid smile.

“Talk to you soon?”

“You couldn’t stop me!” He grins cutely.

He gives you another sweet, tender kiss before you head out the door, making you miss him already. You can’t wait for more nights like this with him.

#park jimin x you #park jimin x reader #jimin x you #jimin x reader #Jimin angst #jimin smut #Jimin fluff #bts park jimin #jungkook angst #soldier!jimin #soldier au #army!jimin #army au #homecoming au #female!reader #bangtan boys #bangtan sonyeondan #bangtan family #bangtan #bts fic #bts angst #bts army #bts fluff #bts smut #thebtswritersclub #btshoneyhive #kflixnet #kvanity

[magicalqueennightmare]

Added a * to my masterlists so you know where spicy times are

#billy russo fanfic #billy russo x reader #billy russo x you #billy russo au #klaus mikaelson x y/n #klaus mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson x y/n #elijah mikaelson fic #elijah mikaelson x reader #rick flag x you #billy butcher x female reader #soldier boy x you

[mudpuddless]

Lunch in the Kenobi-Skywalker-Tano-and-secretly-also-Fett quarters

(not pictured: one knight Skywalker, a togruta padawan, and a good dozen clone troopers in a variety of jedi clothes playing space-mariokart at increasingly high volumes)

[image ID: a digital drawing centred on Jango Fett, a Maori man in his late thirties, in matching mauve sweatpants and cropped shirt adding chilly powder to a big pan filled with a mushy red rice dish. His hair is greying at the temples and he is smiling slightly. On the left behind him is Obi-wan Kenobi, a pale ginger in his late thirties, wearing a blue cropped shirt and beige wrapped pants, who is walking past Jango while smiling at him, a hand on his arm. At the bottom right of the frame there is Boba Fett, a child looking like Jango at about twelve years old, in a matching blue pullover to Obi-wan's, holding up a flashing datapad, taking a photo. He is scoffing softly at his father. In the background, which is slightly blurry, there is a glass teapot and cups, a hanging multi-tier fruit basket and cabinets. Sunlight is flooding the room. end ID]

based on this fic

#Star Wars #fanart #jangobi #jedi culture #obi wan kenobi #described #AU where jango was frozen in carbonite during the ten years It took to make the clones and immediately adopts them given half a chance #half a chance bc he is still very much wanted by the republic #so he stays at the temple in obi-wans quarters and hides in the bedroom when people come over #but like. Quinlan is living next door and thinks jango Is obi-wans one night stand #its a whole thing #the clones steal anakins clothing bc theyre basically ten year olds with the brain chemistry of teen agers who are also soldiers #so there is a lot of very competent toddler-frat boy kind of disasters #yes I made fan art to fight the writers block its been six months fight me #the hidden king fanfic

[zepskies]

Checkerboard

Paring: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re not a supe. You’re breakable. Soldier Boy sometimes forgets that.

AN: A more reformed Soldier Boy (AU post-season 3) has to come to terms with his strength.

Word Count: 1,000 Warnings: 18+ only for nudity. Also language and fluff.

“What the fuck is this?” he asks. 

You’re still half-asleep, because Ben had been absently stroking a thumb across your back. He sits up against the headboard of the bed you so often share, already drinking a cup of coffee. He looks damn-near domestic…

Until he actually looked down at the bruises peeking out at him from beneath the sheets. He sets down his mug and pushes the sheets down.

He then stares at the marks that litter your back, waist, hips, and ass. You shoot him an annoyed look at being bared so early in the morning.

“What’re you doing?” you ask.

He manhandles you just firmly enough to turn you over so he can see your face—out from where it had been buried in your pillow. Despite yourself, you greet his annoyingly handsome face. It's covered with neatly trimmed stubble, and with the back of your hand you touch his cheek in affection. He pushes it away.

“You got something to tell me?” he says, more of a demand than a question. “Answer me. What the fuck happened here?”

He gestures at a prominent dark-bluish mark on the inside of your thigh. You sigh and give him a patient look (and that is an effort in itself).  

“Nothing,” you reply. A cheeky smile starts to play at your lips, but Ben’s brows furrow in irritation. He knows you’re messing with him, and he doesn’t appreciate it.

“You work at a damn desk. Unless you’re getting nailed by the mail guy—”

“Get fucking serious, Ben.” You dismiss that with a roll of your eyes. He tilts his head at you. His mouth works, and his gaze becomes suspicious. But you notice an edge of worry behind his eyes.

Has someone hurt you? Threatened you?

It hasn’t been the first time the latter had happened. Even though Soldier Boy was officially pardoned and now works as a contracted ally with Supe Affairs, he still has plenty of hated enemies. It doesn’t help that you also work in the thick of it—running surveillance for the team.

So you decide to put him out of his misery.

“You really don’t remember?” you ask wryly.

At Ben’s raised brow, your lips quirk at the corner.

“You don’t remember two days ago? When you met me at my office for lunch, which consisted of you rudely sweeping all my hard work to the floor and ultimately breaking my new desk?”

Realization lights up Ben’s face, and his mouth edges into a smirk.

“We were breaking it in,” he corrects you.

Good times, he thinks, before another, less fun realization hits him: his hands are responsible for the patchwork quilt of bruises that litter your skin.

And he remembers, yet again, that he has the very real capacity to hurt you.

You notice how he takes pains to be gentle, slowly brushing the back of his hand across your thigh.

“It’s not the first time,” you remind him.

“It could be the last,” he reminds you. Your face doesn’t change.

You won’t take compound V. Not for him. Not for anyone.

But with shit like this, he wonders why you stay with him. 

“It’s good for you to remember your own strength,” you say, only half-teasing. He turns away from you.

Ben grumbles, “You wanna gamble with your fucking life, that’s up to you.”

You shake your head.

“Don’t do that.” You lean on his shoulder from behind and caress his back—smooth of any scars. You can’t help but prod at him again. “Real men don’t sulk.”   

He shoots you a look over his shoulder. You giggle at his green-eyed annoyance.

The truth is, you make it difficult for him not to care. Not to be a softer man. 

He fucking hates soft. 

But…just for you, he could do it. Just a little.

He closes his hand over yours, which rests on his chest. 

“Sorry,” he says. His voice is deep and holds the weight of his sincerity. That one word also encompasses how much progress his relationship with you has made.

Instead of answering, you kiss his shoulder, the back of his neck. He turns around and strokes your cheek, knowing from your eyes that you don’t hold anything against him. 

“You don’t have to treat me like a porcelain doll, but I don’t need to look like a checkerboard either,” you tease. 

Ben rolls his eyes and slides his arms under you, pulling your naked body onto his bare chest and making you squeal. You meet his eyes as his hand soothes down your back.

“How about this,” he says. “Come up with a safe word.”

You laugh. “We already have one.”

“That’s for other shit,” Ben says, grinning. “Let’s have one just for this. Whenever you wanna remind me to tone it down.”

His hands are careful when they grasp a non-aching portion of your hips. You look down on him fondly, and you consider his suggestion.

“Hmm…pineapples,” you decide. It’s the first obnoxious thing that comes to mind.

“No,” he says. “Veto.”

“What? You can’t veto. It’s my safe word.”

“I’m not gonna be balls deep inside you hearing pineapples in my ear.”

You shake your head at your boyfriend and frame his face with your hands, squeezing his head in exasperation.   

“Fine. How about…checkers,” you suggest. A teasing smile comes to your face, even if it pulls his lips into a frown. “So you remember we had this conversation.”

You can tell he doesn’t entirely like it, but he nods in agreement.

“Good. Now, care to join me for a bath?” you ask. Ben is reluctant; he knows you’re going to pour in a shit ton of frilly-smelling soap and bath salts that feel uncomfortable to sit on. But he’s open to the bath time shenanigans that usually ensue.

“I am still a bit sore,” you say, giving him an imploring look. He levels you with a knowing frown. Using his guilt against him is a dirty tactic, and you always employ it well to your advantage.

“Fine. But we’re using regular fucking soap,” he says. You smile and press a lingering kiss to his lips.

But you both know that the second his back is turned, you’re going to dump in your lavender-scented bath bubbles anyway.

AN: I found this basically sketched out in my files and decided to clean it up and put it out there! Let me know what you think. I know it's a much softer Soldier Boy than we're used to seeing. ;)

Read the Prequel:

If you liked this, check out the prequel series to this one-shot:

Series Masterlist: Break Me Down

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#soldier boy #the boys season 3 #the boys tv #the boys #the boys amazon #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy/ben x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x female reader #zepskies #zepskies writes #reformed!soldier boy #the boys au #fluff

[throwaway-yandere]

His Ice Fishing Buddy (Yandere!Childe/Reader)

A/n: id get accused of favoritism if i didn't write a childe fic ehe. I already wrote a fic where my current dps-es ayaka and ayato are there, would be weird if I didn't write my previous main dps lmao. sorry my tartar sauce boy. This is part 1/3(?) of the short fic "Soldier, Poet, King" (which is yandere Childe, Thoma, and Diluc respectively). Ps: I'm gonna make some stuff abt Varka's "family" cause we still don't have enough info on him lol

An actually reliable synopsis this time wow: reader vents out frustrations and childe listens w/ added bantering

Gn!reader

Cw: It's a really mild/soft & wholesome short yandere fic. Also, I likely have a different characterization for Tartaglia haha… I'm more used to his character in the voice lines so this might not have that "hey girlie~" vibes to it, I'm sorry (´-﹏-`；). Implied yan!Diluc & yan!Thoma/reader.

Parts:

Soldier (You're here), Poet, King

------------------------------

If you asked (Y/n) (L/n) who Tartaglia was, they would tell you that he's nothing more than a pampered kid who got scolded by the Millileth.

If you asked (Y/n) (L/n) who Ajax was, they would tell you that he's the best fishing buddy they ever had.

In hindsight, you are correct. But that's only because you've never had any other fishing buddies to begin with, so there's no competition for him.

You loved fishing around Dragonspine's west end, close to the road that connects Liyue and Mondstadt but far enough to see both civilizations. You were viewed by the Fishing Association as a lone wolf yet beloved "cousin," the type that only came by on holidays to dish out trinkets to the family. That was your place in the group, and they regarded you with plenty of endearments.

Everyone in the association was ecstatic when they received a half-frozen letter from Tommy, penned by yours truly, which detailed a new fishing companion.

Although, when they read your tales about him, it seems as if this new partner of yours is just as unhinged as you are.

"Have you ever wondered how it would feel like to be a fish?" You asked before you cast your line. 

You kept going while smiling. "It would be nice, wouldn't it? To feel happy when you're drowning. To sink in and just… not be affected by what's up there. Kinda cool. I mean, fish can drown in certain ways, but still..."

He looked at you with a mixture of bemusement and sympathy. Ajax mentally reasoned that having long chats must be a family characteristic for the Imunlaukr Clan.

"Are you alright, comrade?" Ajax asked. He wrapped his scarf around your neck, but the effect was nearly nonexistent. You are used to this cold as much as he is, but considering how he's a full-pledged Snezhnayan man, he's likely to be more resilient. 

Still, it made your lips quirk up for a second. It's the thought that counts, right?

Ajax had always struck you as a kindred spirit. His odd fascination with fighting turned you off at first, but he has a compelling and charismatic presence. Yet, Ajax is far from a playboy. His pickup lines are rarely memorable and they hardly ever stick. Quite frankly, you thought his flirtatious jokes were enough proof that he's likely to die alone.

The man is uber-fixated on becoming stronger in such a nerdy way, which is kind of contradictory. He boasts that he's strong but seems to flail around in the hopes of achieving whatever the hell "world domination" entails.

In short, Ajax is a paper tiger in your eyes. Both in flirting AND combat.

"Never better," you replied sarcastically.

"Have you eaten lunch?"

You pointed at your half-eaten frozen... charcoal discarded in front of your humble tent.

He initially mistook that you were pointing to the letter written by an Inazuman fisherman rather than the hazardous garbage that was strewn about. Ajax's nose scrunched.

With his siblings and acquaintances, he provides them with sugarcoated words when it comes to cooking. It matters not if the scales are flakey and toasted to bitterness similar to ground coffee. But this? This, however...

"I get that it may just be my preferences talking, but it doesn't look very palatable. Don't you realize that food is like weaponry? You need to consume things that are beneficial for the body. Damn. How are you going to keep your promise of 'not dying until Ajax conquers the world' when you live like this?"

"Oh, please stop. You sound like my mother." You grimaced. "Who said you need to be a master chef to fry a fish? You just need to be moderate at arson!"

That last sentence explained a lot.

Ajax laughed boisterously. "C-Comrade, you couldn't even fry the fish right."

"Oi! Shut up. You're scaring the fish away." You grumbled. "The rain just stopped and the fish aren't coming back. So be quiet."

"I'd be afraid too if that sad charcoal is my fate."

"Just shut up."

"Amuse me: were you cooking for yourself or were you just crafting fish baits?–"

"SHUSH."

Tartaglia would have offered you a big supper in Liyue under normal circumstances. During combat, he had fleeting thoughts about pampering you with the dishes and clothing you deserved. He can see you dress up just for him holding his arm as you both enter the establishment so vividly. Tartaglia could hear your laughter fill the air as you mispronounce different Liyue cuisines. 

He felt hollower each time he snapped out of his daydreams and remembered your patched and ragged clothes in this unforgiving climate

However, Ajax desired to uphold this image you had of him. Even if your cheap lifestyle is slightly killing the banker's insides. 

"Hey, why don't you eat something in Mondstadt? My treat."

You gazed up, confused.

"Why?"

"There's no way you haven't missed a good, juicy, meaty steak," Ajax said, his voice similar to a burlesque salesman. "Plus, I'll accompany you on your trip. The road's teeming with hilichurls compared to this dead place. There'll be plenty of fights waiting for me if I accompany you, so why not?" 

As long as no one saw Ajax's mask, no one would shun him for being a Harbinger. He had already sent directives for the Fatui stationed in Mondstadt not to approach him on this little date. 

The only problem is Master Diluc…

Why didn't he exposed that he's a Fatui Harbinger yet?

You rolled your eyes. "Why not? The reason why not is because I'm not going to order steak just to sate your bloodlust. Plus, Good Hunter has a delivery service anyway."

"But you should go home once in a whileeee," Ajax whined.

You yanked back your reel, but there was no sign of a catch.

"Why are you so persistent?" You said in a monotone voice.

It didn't sound like a question. It sounded like a complaint.

Ajax finally realized how crestfallen you were when he stared at you. Your expression had been the same the second he mentioned Mondstadt. He felt a stab of remorse as he struggled to come up with a reply.

Your eyes looked just like his, dead.

"I don't want to be seen at the town square."

Ajax paused and hesitate on whether or not he should ask. He decided that it would be best if he would've ordered Viktor to figure out what happened if you didn't tell him anyway. "Why?"

"I overheard a few things about me." You said. "A few things I didn't even know about myself."

"Oh?"

You both paused, but it was a comfortable silence. As Ajax sat alongside you on the wood, your shoulders began to relax. The ice gradually soaked his gray trousers, but his attention did not divert. Ajax's entire focus was on you, and it warmed your heart to know you have such a wonderful friend.

"Ready when you are, (Y/n)."

You felt some kind of zest. In this scenario, hearing him use your name instead of "comrade" had a distinct effect you can't quite put a finger on.

"Right." You cleared your throat. "So, uh, last week when you weren't here I overheard Marjorie and some blonde rat-tailed guy talk about me a-and umm..."

Your eyes were beginning to moisten. You bared the restricting ache in your chest with a close-eyed grin and proceeded to spill.

"S-She wasn't saying nice things. That's all."

You would have had a better chance of seeing Ajax's evil gaze if you had kept your eyes open the entire time. You might have noticed how strangely silent he was if you had concentrated on him instead of composing yourself. Instead, you were clinging to the last shred of self-control you had to not let the floodgates open.

"Marjorie, the Souvenir Shop owner? Do you know the other man?"

"No." You shook your head weakly. "Never met him, I think. He seemed like a tourist but he looked like a Mondstadter..." 

"I-I mean, not-that-it-bothers-me-of-course. I know I'm a weirdo, but I'm ashamed to think that I never once pieced together that people think I'm a disappointment to the Imunlaukr Clan. I thought everybody in my family was unique, but I didn't realize that I'm underwhelming when it comes to... whatever positive uniqueness people are after. It gets suffocating when I hear those harsh words constantly whenever I come home. Especially since I don't have a vision."  

"That's why I hate visiting little Mond. Everyone there despises me. Some have the gall to hide it to gain my cousin's favor, while some flat out tell me that they want my name erased from the family tree." You continued. 

"So, I guess that's why I'm so glad to have met you and the Fishing Association. You didn't know who my family was and treated me like a friend, not a means to an end." 

Ajax took a deep breath. You laughed nervously a few seconds later.

"Haha, that kinda rhymed. Sorry. Even I admit that that was too much. I'm rambling again. My bad."

To be honest, he also had an ulterior motive when befriending you. Keyword: had. 

He sought you out before to leech out more information about Grandmaster Varka, who seemed to go on month-long expeditions out of nowhere. It made him agitated. He was desperate to learn more about Mondstadt's powerhouse that he combed through all of his contacts until he came across you. The joyful titan's favorite cousin: the isolated fisherman.

Tartaglia saving you from drowning in Wyrmrest Valley was no "stroke of luck" as you put it.

Tartaglia intended to kidnap you for ransom, one that can only be paid by sparring with a worthy opponent.

But after getting to know you, your insecurities, and your passion as a human being for half a year, Ajax couldn't help but want you even if he tried not to.

He could no longer bring himself to cause harm to the one weak link to The Knight of Boreas. If anything, he learned firsthand why Varka was adamant about keeping you safe and hidden. It also made sense why there were rumors that the Uncrowned King of Mondstadt has a crush on you. You are too eccentric– too valuable for the public eye

Perhaps it was for the best that you declined Ajax's offer. He loathes the idea of others looking at you, particularly that redhead with a (reasonable) vendetta against him. You're better off isolated. 

Alone, with him.

He rubbed his thumb at the back of your palm. 

"Comrade..." Ajax cooed. "You're not a disappointment."

 You laughed.

"A part of me already acknowledged that, but thank you. It's impossible to be like Varka. I wish I could be like him every day, but the thing is the only thing I'm good at is whipping this rod and reeling in a big one... and I didn't even get a catch today. Hell, when I tried to train, Diluc told me to just give up and let him do all the protecting-and-what-not. I wish I could just, well, not think about other people like Varka does."

You exhaled deeply. If not Varka, then you hope to become like your pen pal, Fixer, instead. He frequently offered sound advice on how to be more friendly and personable, and he even offered to meet with you after the Sakoku decree was repealed. "Fixer" didn't appear to mind rumors about him, despite the fact that he's a Mondstadter living in a xenophobic country. You can only dream of being that resolved in your worth and confidence.

Maybe you should accept his invitation to meet up. Fixer sounded like he was dying to see you. After all, it's the least you could do for the man who still kept in contact despite his country's prohibition.

"Huh?! Diluc said that?" Ajax suddenly exclaimed. "What kind of man discourages someone from training? People should strive to be formidable warriors if they want to--"

He stopped when he realized you were staring at him with immense judgement.

"Ah, right, wrong timing." He gulped.

"But hey." Ajax squeezed your hand, and you squeezed back. "Comrade, you're being too harsh on yourself and you know it. Hell, it's those scheming bad guys who should be self-critical, not you."

He definitely had his co-workers in mind when he said that.

You snickered. "I'm not a child anymore, Ajax. There's no such thing as bad guys."

"Well," Ajax nervously cleared his throat, undoubtedly uncomfortable. "I mean, there's the Fatui."

"What, like that big doofus Childe?" You teased.

He froze.

Ouch.

'Ajax' laughed sparingly.

"Yeah. Like him. Just tell me if those guys are bothering you, I'll get them knocked off their perch."

You shrugged. "Whatever, sure."

Hmm...

He continued to stare at you with a small smile, long enough for you to see that his eyes are noctilucous jade-like. They were gleaming. Is this how they've always been? You could've sworn his eyes were a dull shade of cobalt blue (though you never told him that since you were afraid he'd challenge you to a sparring match). 

 

"Why are you still smiling? Is there something on my face?" You giggled.

That immediately made Ajax flinch. "H-Ha? Oh, what, no, of course not, wha– pshaw! I just got lost in thought, that's all." 

"Really?" You raised an eyebrow playfully. "Then what is The Greatest and Most Renowned Snezhnayan Fisherman pondering about in the company of his Poor and Estranged Mondstadter Friend, hmm? Mora for your thoughts?"

Ajax looked away.

"It's a bit embarrassing."

"What is?" You said. "C-C'mon, if there is something on my face just say it, man!"

"No, no, nothing like that." Ajax pouted, yet he still refused to face you. "It's just that..."

"I just thought you're drop-dead gorgeous, that's all."

You blushed.

"L-Like, the light of the moon." He continued blabbering. "The perfect lighting for a bloodbath or a crime scene, for added mystery."

The warmth in your face fizzled out as you smacked his arm. Classic Ajax. He can't go on for ten minutes without thinking about fighting. Somehow, that 'drop-DEAD' compliment was fitting coming from him. You're pretty sure he mentioned something about wanting to see his enemies drop dead on several occasions.

"You had me at drop-dead gorgeous but you ruined it with that last part, idiot."

Ajax was dying inside. Sure, he had slain multiple enemies as a 14-year-old but no amount of "maturing" prepared him for the awkward steps of wooing someone.

He's still a little kid deep down who grew up too fast, and sadly, he will always be more comfortable holding a weapon than a person's hand.

Please, have some mercy.

"You asked me how I felt, so I just said what I thought of at the time!"

"Gah! You're hopeless."

You ruffled his ginger hair roughly before his shoulders and spine tensed up. He was unable to look away. Your wide grin is a wholesome sight to see. 

Even though Dragonspine was frigid, he's pretty sure his cheeks were scorching.

"But thank you, friend." You whispered loud enough for him to hear. "You always know just what to say. You're right, I'm too critical."

He puffed humorously, "Of course you are. But anytime, (Y/n)."

"Perhaps you should start self-reflecting as well," you suggested, a little less soft this time. You stood up and gradually increased the distance between you two.

He scowled as he realized where this shift in tone was leading. 

With a mischievous smile, you added. "You know... since you can't seem to land a critical hit with your attacks."

He sneered, oblivious to the fact that he'd already summoned his hydro weapon before you even finished your punchline. 

"HEY!"

It's not his fault he gets so scared fighting when you're around, okay?! You're one of the few people who makes him nervous when fighting. In Ajax's heart, you are already a part of his family, and revealing his real fighting style would be like telling Teucer he wasn't Snezhnaya's greatest toyseller. He doesn't know what he'll do if he makes a mistake that leads you to suspect that he's Tartaglia. He doesn't know what he'll do because you are the one who causes him to falter—

You started sprinting.

"SEE YA LATER, AJAX!"

"What the-- YOU CAN RUN BUT YOU CAN'T HIDE– GET BACK HERE, (Y/N)!!!"

Normally, he would have caught you as you headed for the pines and exacted his wrath in under ten seconds, but he made the mistake of glancing down. Ajax stared at his frozen reflection in the stream.

He grinned.

You're truly starting to restore the brightness in his eyes whenever you're around.

It's only justice that those people will soon deeply regret spreading false rumors about you, right? 

Then, all Tartaglia needs to do now is collect Marjorie and that blonde man's debt...

#yandere childe #yandere genshin x reader #yandere x reader #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere tartaglia #childe x reader #yandere fanfiction #yandere #yandere content #boy i fricking love dovetailing sht in fics lol #tag: soldier poet king - childe thoma diluc #gender neutral reader #yandere genshin au #genshin impact x reader #yandere ajax #yandere diluc #yandere thoma #ansy-writes

[bittersweet-in-boston]

Latest installment in the ongoing saga of boxer Steve and mob boss Bucky if you’re so inclined…part 3 of Number one with a bullet

#stucky #bucky barnes #steve rogers #captain america #marvel #stevebucky #winter soldier #modern au #mob au #heavyweight boxer steve rogers #mob boss bucky barnes #age difference #stubborn steve rogers #hoo boy i love these two together #minor violence #eeeeeee

[jackles010378]

MASTER LIST:

Visiting Dean in Hospital

Walk in the forest

Jealous Jensen (interview)

sleepy head dean part 1

sleepy head dean part 2

sleepy head dean part 3

sleepy head dean part 4 {smut}

never been kissed

the boy next door

i cant do this anymore part 1

i cant do this anymore part 2

i cant do this anymore part 3

i cant do this anymore part 4

jealous dean (yoga)

trick or treat

Don't lick your lips (smut)

Happily Ever After Part 1

Happily Ever After Part 2

Happily Ever After, Oh Baby....

Dean in Glasses

From Beyond The Grave

Under The Mistletoe

Beyond the Monster (Benny Lafitte story)

I Can Only Speak The Truth

Snowed In

A Christmas To Remember

Our First Christmas

Christmas Eve Night Fun

Epic Christmas Adventure

Midnight Magic

A New Years Eve to Remember

A Prank Gone Wrong

Flannel of Desire

Saturday Night Special

Instant Relief

An Unthinkable Choice

Its In His Kiss

Happy Birthday Dean

Surprise?

Unexpected Encounter

A Detour To Remember

A Night To Remember

SUPEr Flexible

Intoxicating Pancakes

Valentines Day Surprise

Power Of Love

The Wrong Winchester

Love On The Tee

Steady Ground

A "Leap" Of Faith

Its All About You

Met His Match

A Gift of a Lifetime

Dancing In The Rain

Wait Till I Get Home

Demon Dean Jealous?

The Depths of their Love

Regarding y/n

In this shirt

Love Beyond the Badge

#jensen ackles #dean winchester #supernatural #jackles #jensen ross ackles #spn cast #soldier boy #deanwinchtser #jensen ackles gifs #beau arlen #jensen ackles fanfiction #dean winchester fan fiction #beau arlen fan fic #jensen ackles x y/n #au dean winchester x reader