welldonebeca

[welldonebeca]

It's a Bad Idea, right? (3)

Summary: The worst idea a waitress in MamaStefka can have is to fall in love with a man in Hydra. They aren’t supposed to even talk! It doesn’t stop Betty, though. Pairing: Steve Rogers x OC! Betty Warnings: Mafia AU. Secret identity au. Tension.

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 a month and I promise you won’t regret it.

Masterlist

"I'll swing back to pick you up, alright?" Piet wiped his hands on a towel, looking at her. "Don't leave. We're just going to grab some groceries, drop off Wanda, and then I'll be back for you."

Betty tried not to shake her head. It was her turn closing the restaurant and anytime that happened to either her or Wanda, Piet stayed behind so they would walk home together and she didn’t close everything on her own – it was a thing the chefs did too, no girl was ever left closing on her own.

"Just head off, Piet," she urged. "The quicker you go, the sooner you'll be back."

That seemed to do the trick, and she locked the door behind him before entering. She double-checked the money – the girls had already taken their tips, so she needed to be sure the numbers were right – before putting it in the secret safe, hiding it before getting back to the tables.

Wanda had already refilled and stored the condiments, and Betty confirmed that Mila had cleared the tables. Those tasks were sorted. She glanced into the remaining restrooms, secured the windows, stowed the tableware, emptied the waste bins, and powered down any idle equipment.  She ensured the fridges were still running – and made sure no one had made the stupid mistake of turning off the fridges – before locking up the windows.

All she had was to do now was take out the trash and wait for Piet, and she could set up the alarms.

Betty left the backdoor open when she came back inside for the second bag, and if she hadn’t seen a strange shadow, she wouldn’t even know something had happened.

“Pietro?” she called, walking backwards to the counter, and pulled the bat they kept there, adjusting the safety sock on it.

Whoever it was didn’t answer, and she swung it up, ready to use to protect herself.

Who was dumb enough enough to invade Mama Stefka? It was the meeting place of the Mafia!

“I don’t know who you are, but you are probably not from this side of town,” she announced into the emptiness. “I would leave if I were you.”

The answer came not with words, but with a big man walking closer to her with his hands up.

She was frozen in place for a moment.

The German guy.

“Hi,” he spoke slowly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Some friends said this was a good place to lay low for a minute or two.”

She looked at him and then at the door, still wide open, and he stopped away from her, a bit far. If she wanted to run, she could get out and he wouldn’t catch her.

"What's your deal?" she asked, chin jerking toward him. "Why do you need to lay low?"

He grimaced a little.

"I got caught up in a little situation out there," he gestured behind him. "A misunderstanding. You know how it is with the cops."

She looked at him from head to toe.

“Do I, really?” Betty asked.

He hesitated a bit.

"Malick mentioned you might have a first aid kit around. I'm Steffan. Bauer. Your friends know me as Captain."

She held her ground, still cautious.

"They're quite protective of you, the Malicks. And they've been in this business longer than I have. I wouldn't dare jeopardize their trust, miss. I assure you."

That, at last, made her relax, and Betty lowered the bat slowly.

Yeah, that bit was way more believable than him having a good heart.

"Someone else is supposed to meet me here," she warned him. "And he's just about as big as you."

He wasn’t. Piet was strong, sure, but he was absolutely not as strong as that dude.

“No problem,” Steffan nodded.

Betty lowered the bat, although still holding it.

“You said you need the first aid kit?” she asked, still wary.

He nodded.

“Just a little scratch, miss,” Steffan assured her. “Could use some cleaning.”

She scoffed a little. Fine.

“I’ll go get it.”

The bat was firmly in her hand as she walked to the kitchen – it wasn’t like there was anything valuable at his reach, the very door to where the safe was hidden went through the kitchen. And they had big chef knives there too, she wouldn’t go down with a fight, whatever his goal was.

But when she came back, Steffan was on the same place as before, sat on his chair and without his jacket.

And he was jacked. Really big and strong. A real powerhouse.

She could see the blood sipping through his shirt on his – big, big – shoulder when she approached him, and held the box close as he pushed the fabric aside and over his shoulder.

Bullet scratch. It wasn’t too bad, but it certainly bled quite a bit.

“No need to dig out a bullet in this one,” he joked, giving her a charming smile. “Thank you for taking it.”

But she just walked behind him, putting her bat on a table near and setting the kit behind his arm.

“I’ll do it,” Betty interrupted him. “Just don’t do anything funny.”

Steffan tucked his head down, chuckling.

"Sure thing, ma'am," he agreed, his hands resting on his thighs.

He had big thighs, very meaty.

That dude was really well fed and a big fan of gyms.

She kept her mouth shut as she opened the box, and put on the gloves before touching anything else, and put antiseptic on it with the cotton pads, and he hissed in response, but didn’t say anything or even flinch.

She covered it up with what they had there, some gauze and medical tape, and took off the gloves, grabbing her bat to go throw them into the trash bag.

“There,” she looked at him, keeping her distance. “You’re good to go.”

Steffan readjusted his shirt, pulling it back into place over his shoulder.

“The Malicks called you Betty,” he observed. “Is that your name?”

She shook her head, still wary.

“It’s for the Americans,” she told him. “They butch up my name too much.”

He raised an intrigued eyebrow.

"Put me to the test," he suggested.

Betty pondered for a moment.

It wasn’t as if he couldn’t figure it out on his own if he asked the right person.

“Elżbieta,” she told him.

"Elżbieta," he repeated confidently.

Nailed it.

"It's a lovely name," Steffan remarked, his gaze fixed on her face.

How was he this hot?

“Thank you,” she mumbled, shifting her eyes away.

He stood up, at last, getting his jacket from behind the chair.

"I should be on my way, Betty," he smoothly informed her, his tone a bit too smooth for someone who had invaded her closed workplace. "It was a pleasure meeting you. And once again, I apologise for the fright. Rest assured, it won't happen again."

With that, he walked through the open door, leaving without any physical contact. Betty stood there, feeling frozen in place for what seemed like an eternity, until Pietro entered through the same door about five minutes later.

"Hey," her roommate greeted her. "Finished up?"

She shook herself out of her stunned space.

God, that was weird.

"Yeah," she confirmed, her voice steady. "Just need to set the alarm."

. . .

“it’s a Bad Idea, right?” was posted on my Patreon in September 2023 and is finished this month. To have early access to it (and lots of other stories), consider subscribing to my page! It’s just $2 a month, and I know you won’t regret it!

. . .

Forever Tags: @emoryhemsworth​ @amythyststorm33​​ @shaelyn102​​ @yknott81​​ ​​@maximofftrash​​ @kgbrenner​​ @thefridgeismybestie @magpiegirl80​ @mogaruke​ @shadowhunter7​​ @musicalcoffeebean @megasimpleplan4ever​​ @deemoriarty​​ @05spn18​​ @malindacath @kdcollinsauthor​​ @random-fandom-fangirl2112​​ @widowsfics @frozenhuntress67​​ @averyrogers83​​ @notyourtypicalrose @nerdypinupcrystal @giruvega

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Bad Idea: @peaceloveancolor

#welldonebeca's Bad Idea series #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve #steve rogers x reader smut #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfic fic #steve rogers fanfic smut #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x y/n fanfiction #steve rogers x y/n fc #steve rogers x y/n fanfic

[welldonebeca]

It's a Bad Idea, right? (3)

Summary: The worst idea a waitress in MamaStefka can have is to fall in love with a man in Hydra. They aren’t supposed to even talk! It doesn’t stop Betty, though. Pairing: Steve Rogers x OC! Betty Warnings: Mafia AU. Secret identity au. Tension.

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 a month and I promise you won’t regret it.

Masterlist

"I'll swing back to pick you up, alright?" Piet wiped his hands on a towel, looking at her. "Don't leave. We're just going to grab some groceries, drop off Wanda, and then I'll be back for you."

Betty tried not to shake her head. It was her turn closing the restaurant and anytime that happened to either her or Wanda, Piet stayed behind so they would walk home together and she didn’t close everything on her own – it was a thing the chefs did too, no girl was ever left closing on her own.

"Just head off, Piet," she urged. "The quicker you go, the sooner you'll be back."

That seemed to do the trick, and she locked the door behind him before entering. She double-checked the money – the girls had already taken their tips, so she needed to be sure the numbers were right – before putting it in the secret safe, hiding it before getting back to the tables.

Wanda had already refilled and stored the condiments, and Betty confirmed that Mila had cleared the tables. Those tasks were sorted. She glanced into the remaining restrooms, secured the windows, stowed the tableware, emptied the waste bins, and powered down any idle equipment.  She ensured the fridges were still running – and made sure no one had made the stupid mistake of turning off the fridges – before locking up the windows.

All she had was to do now was take out the trash and wait for Piet, and she could set up the alarms.

Betty left the backdoor open when she came back inside for the second bag, and if she hadn’t seen a strange shadow, she wouldn’t even know something had happened.

“Pietro?” she called, walking backwards to the counter, and pulled the bat they kept there, adjusting the safety sock on it.

Whoever it was didn’t answer, and she swung it up, ready to use to protect herself.

Who was dumb enough enough to invade Mama Stefka? It was the meeting place of the Mafia!

“I don’t know who you are, but you are probably not from this side of town,” she announced into the emptiness. “I would leave if I were you.”

The answer came not with words, but with a big man walking closer to her with his hands up.

She was frozen in place for a moment.

The German guy.

“Hi,” he spoke slowly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Some friends said this was a good place to lay low for a minute or two.”

She looked at him and then at the door, still wide open, and he stopped away from her, a bit far. If she wanted to run, she could get out and he wouldn’t catch her.

"What's your deal?" she asked, chin jerking toward him. "Why do you need to lay low?"

He grimaced a little.

"I got caught up in a little situation out there," he gestured behind him. "A misunderstanding. You know how it is with the cops."

She looked at him from head to toe.

“Do I, really?” Betty asked.

He hesitated a bit.

"Malick mentioned you might have a first aid kit around. I'm Steffan. Bauer. Your friends know me as Captain."

She held her ground, still cautious.

"They're quite protective of you, the Malicks. And they've been in this business longer than I have. I wouldn't dare jeopardize their trust, miss. I assure you."

That, at last, made her relax, and Betty lowered the bat slowly.

Yeah, that bit was way more believable than him having a good heart.

"Someone else is supposed to meet me here," she warned him. "And he's just about as big as you."

He wasn’t. Piet was strong, sure, but he was absolutely not as strong as that dude.

“No problem,” Steffan nodded.

Betty lowered the bat, although still holding it.

“You said you need the first aid kit?” she asked, still wary.

He nodded.

“Just a little scratch, miss,” Steffan assured her. “Could use some cleaning.”

She scoffed a little. Fine.

“I’ll go get it.”

The bat was firmly in her hand as she walked to the kitchen – it wasn’t like there was anything valuable at his reach, the very door to where the safe was hidden went through the kitchen. And they had big chef knives there too, she wouldn’t go down with a fight, whatever his goal was.

But when she came back, Steffan was on the same place as before, sat on his chair and without his jacket.

And he was jacked. Really big and strong. A real powerhouse.

She could see the blood sipping through his shirt on his – big, big – shoulder when she approached him, and held the box close as he pushed the fabric aside and over his shoulder.

Bullet scratch. It wasn’t too bad, but it certainly bled quite a bit.

“No need to dig out a bullet in this one,” he joked, giving her a charming smile. “Thank you for taking it.”

But she just walked behind him, putting her bat on a table near and setting the kit behind his arm.

“I’ll do it,” Betty interrupted him. “Just don’t do anything funny.”

Steffan tucked his head down, chuckling.

"Sure thing, ma'am," he agreed, his hands resting on his thighs.

He had big thighs, very meaty.

That dude was really well fed and a big fan of gyms.

She kept her mouth shut as she opened the box, and put on the gloves before touching anything else, and put antiseptic on it with the cotton pads, and he hissed in response, but didn’t say anything or even flinch.

She covered it up with what they had there, some gauze and medical tape, and took off the gloves, grabbing her bat to go throw them into the trash bag.

“There,” she looked at him, keeping her distance. “You’re good to go.”

Steffan readjusted his shirt, pulling it back into place over his shoulder.

“The Malicks called you Betty,” he observed. “Is that your name?”

She shook her head, still wary.

“It’s for the Americans,” she told him. “They butch up my name too much.”

He raised an intrigued eyebrow.

"Put me to the test," he suggested.

Betty pondered for a moment.

It wasn’t as if he couldn’t figure it out on his own if he asked the right person.

“Elżbieta,” she told him.

"Elżbieta," he repeated confidently.

Nailed it.

"It's a lovely name," Steffan remarked, his gaze fixed on her face.

How was he this hot?

“Thank you,” she mumbled, shifting her eyes away.

He stood up, at last, getting his jacket from behind the chair.

"I should be on my way, Betty," he smoothly informed her, his tone a bit too smooth for someone who had invaded her closed workplace. "It was a pleasure meeting you. And once again, I apologise for the fright. Rest assured, it won't happen again."

With that, he walked through the open door, leaving without any physical contact. Betty stood there, feeling frozen in place for what seemed like an eternity, until Pietro entered through the same door about five minutes later.

"Hey," her roommate greeted her. "Finished up?"

She shook herself out of her stunned space.

God, that was weird.

"Yeah," she confirmed, her voice steady. "Just need to set the alarm."

. . .

“it’s a Bad Idea, right?” was posted on my Patreon in September 2023 and is finished this month. To have early access to it (and lots of other stories), consider subscribing to my page! It’s just $2 a month, and I know you won’t regret it!

. . .

Forever Tags: @emoryhemsworth​ @amythyststorm33​​ @shaelyn102​​ @yknott81​​ ​​@maximofftrash​​ @kgbrenner​​ @thefridgeismybestie @magpiegirl80​ @mogaruke​ @shadowhunter7​​ @musicalcoffeebean @megasimpleplan4ever​​ @deemoriarty​​ @05spn18​​ @malindacath @kdcollinsauthor​​ @random-fandom-fangirl2112​​ @widowsfics @frozenhuntress67​​ @averyrogers83​​ @notyourtypicalrose @nerdypinupcrystal @giruvega

Marvel forever tags: @its-daydreamer23​​ @random-fandom-fangirl2112​​ @tayrae515​? @indecisiondecisions​? @afanofmanystuffs @patzammit​? @thevanishedillusion​​? @widowsfics​​? @alexisshoto​ @princess-evans-addict​​ @dreams-of-feysand​​ ​@dragonqueen0606 @izbelross @isabelle-faith

Bad Idea: @peaceloveancolor

#welldonebeca's Bad Idea series #steve #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader smut #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfic fic #steve rogers fanfic smut #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x y/n fanfiction #steve rogers x y/n fc #steve rogers x y/n fanfic

[welldonebeca]

The Boy (2)

Summary: During a witch hunt, Jack accidentally turns into a little kid. The problem is that it wasn’t a spell. Sometimes he just wants his body to reflect the age he sometimes feels like. The thing is… the guys don’t know about that. Yet. Characters: Jack, Dean. Sam, Castiel. WC: 1.6k words Warnings: Age regression. Fluff. Angst. Canon. Minor Samstiel;.

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 a month and I promise you won’t regret it.

Masterlist

Jack clapped his hands, sat over daddy's knee, excited as uncle Dean pressed the buttons of the microwave to make his pancakes.

He was still small when he woke up, a little freer than ever before, a little happier too.

He was a baby! Their baby!

Daddy was already eating, it was a salad, a green looking thing, and tried to feed it to him, but it was gross!

"Pancakes!" he shouted, slapping the table.

Uncle Dean laughed.

"Don't worry, Jack," papa explained it to him calmly. "The pancakes are almost done."

The microwave beeped, and uncle Dean took the pancakes from inside it and set it in front of him with a bottle of syrup aside.

"There ya go, boy," he told him. "Pancakes."

His eyes grew. They looked so tasty!

"You should cut them up, Dean," daddy tried to say.

Before anyone could take his pancakes away, Jack reached up and grabbed one small one, shoving it into his mouth.

"Let me take this," papa grabbed the syrup. "He doesn't need this much sugar."

Jack didn't care! It was easier to eat like this without syrup and with his hands.

They all waited for him to finish up, and uncle Dean took his plate away when he was done before they had to go.

"Time to get into your clean clothes, baby," daddy cooed, kissing his cheeks.

Jack giggled. He liked that! Kisses were so fun!

Once, when he was big, Sam kissed his forehead, but it was only when he was sick.

But now he was small, and he was kissing his cheeks and his forehead, and was petting his hair, and it was all so nice.

Sam kept kissing him while he dressed him up and looked so happy. He even blew raspberries into his belly!

"Wow, Sam. You are really acting like a dad, uh?" uncle Dean teased him.

Papa hummed along.

"You really do," he remarked.

Daddy flushed, flustered.

"He is probably scared, Dean," he mumbled, picking him up. "He needs affection."

Jack smiled, cuddling up with him. Daddy was always good, he made sure he wasn't scared. When Dean was being mean, daddy always made him feel safe.

No matter what, Sam wanted him to be happy. And Jack wanted to be like this forever.

Once they were out, papa took him and sat him on his lap for the car ride. They didn't have any car seats, but he didn't mind. Papa's grip was stronger than any car seat.

He held papa's hand as the car moved, soothed by the movement, but his worries started to grow when he realised where they were and how much closer to the bunker they were now.

And then, he wasn't feeling so small anymore.

What would they say when he got bigger again?

Jack wasn't a good liar, they would find out if he was hiding things.

But it was so good!

He huffed and kicked the air.

Why couldn't he be a baby all the time?!

"Jack, baby?" papa asked. "What is wrong?"

He just whined. Jack wanted to speak, but his throat was all clogged up! All he could do was whine and squirm.

"Maybe he needs a nap?" Uncle Dean suggested.

He kicked more. No nap! He wanted the car to stop! He didn't want to go back home!

Jack wanted to stay in his tiny room and get small pancakes, and be tiny, cause he was a tiny boy!

Still, Papa reached for him and got him in his arms, rocking him lovingly, and pressing his cheek against his chest, caressing his hair.

Suddenly, he felt his chest vibrating, and heard him humming a song.

Jack looked up at him with watery eyes as papa sang him a song, feeling calmer, but scared.

"I'm sorry, Papa," he said slowly, dozzy. "Don't be mad."

He fell asleep, hoping everyone else wasn't so confused as he slept.

When he woke up, he was still in his papa's arms, but he was walking now.

Jack wanted to be put down, but he was so sleepy, and being held was so nice.

"We should go lay him down in this bed, and then we can start researching," daddy instructed.

Papa squeezed him a little closer.

"I can watch him sleep," he affirmed. "I don't want him to fall over."

Uncle Dean scoffed.

"He is not an infant, Cas. Jack is... What? Five? Just put pillows around him and he'll be good."

They were back at the bunker? In his room?

Wait!

"The kid has a lot of stuffed animals, uh?" Dean wondered out loud. "Pretty soft, though."

He squeezed his eyes shut.

No, no!

" I haven't been in Jack's room for some time," papa said.

His ears suddenly picked up the rustling of paper, and he opened his eyes and turned to look, finding daddy holding in his hands was his drawing of their family.

His breathing grew fast, and he started to cry aloud, and in a blip, he was out of his papa's arm and on the floor, somewhere else, panicking.

He looked around. He was still in the bunker, in the Dean cave.

Jack crawled to hide.

They were gonna be mad at him! He wanted to be big right now - he had to leave properly - but he was still so little and being away from his daddies was so scary.

He stayed under the couch, trying to calm down but he couldn't stop crying!

But it didnt take long for them to find him

"Jack!" Dean called out, and he could see his feet before he knelt to try to grab him, but Jack cried and scooted farther back.

"Dean, please," he heard papa's voice, and saw his shoes from far away. "Jack, baby, please come out. We can talk."

No, no. They were mad! They were going to be mad at him!

There was quiet and silence for a bit, and he felt his worry growing.

Had they left?

Jack jumped when a big hand reached out and stopped a bit away from him.

"Jack?" daddy asked softly. "It's alright, no one is mad at you."

He sniffed. Yes, they were!

"Was that your drawing? The one I saw?"

He perked up.

"Yes," Jack mumbled.

He loved that drawing. He remembered wanting to show Sam, but not like this!

"It's a beautiful drawing," be praised. "You are such a good artist."

Jack stopped sniffling and flushed.

He was?

He saw daddy moving, and he sat down by the couch.

"You must have worked really hard," he remarked

He did! Jack had even tried to colour his family's aura, but some colours were just not easy to make with his twelve crayons.

"You know, I think I want to put it up in the fridge," he told him. "But I want you to see me doing it."

Jack slowly grabbed daddy's hand, too small to get more than two of his fingers and hold them tight.

"Not mad?" he asked softly.

"I promise you," he affirmed. "Not mad."

He crawled out, and his daddies were waiting, and uncle Dean tilted his head.

"I'm pretty sure nothing can fit under the couch," he mumbled to papa.

Papa didn't even look at him, quickly moving to Jack.

"Baby. You are all dusty," he picked him up, cleaning his head.

Jack looked over at Sam, all hopeful.

"Drawing?"

Daddy nodded and gestured for everyone to follow him.

They all went to the kitchen, and daddy proudly placed his drawing on the door with a magnet.

Jack's heart soared. He never thought he could see his drawing on the fridge! Now he would see it everyday and his daddies would know he loved them!

"Jack?" papa called softly, and he turned to look at him.

Papa gave him a look.

Oh. Yes. Love meant being honest, too.

"The lady witch didn't do this to me," he confessed. "I did it to me."

Dean cleared his throat.

"So you made yourself into a kid?" he asked.

He nodded, and Sam touched his hand gently.

"Do you... Do you want to be a kid?" daddy asked, worried.

Jack nodded but stopped.

"Not all the time," he told them. "I like being big sometimes. I like driving and doing big boy things."

He fumbled with his shirt.

"I wish I was a baby," he told them. "I remember when I was born and I had to be big really fast, and I didn't want that."

His stomach twisted and his nose went all sniffly again.

It was sad because it was true.

Jack heard sniffling and it wasn't his own, and when he looked, he saw papa was crying.

"I'm sorry, Jack," he squeezed him. "I should have protected you, and raised you!"

He reached for his face, caressing it.

"It's okay, papa," he told him. "You are here now and I'm not scared anymore, I promise!"

He held him close for a long time, squeezing and rocking him, and Jack felt his eyes heavy.

"I'm tired," he mumbled.

Daddy and uncle Dean chuckled.

Crying was really tiring.

"Let's get you to your bed," Sam cooed, and they walked back to his room.

Papa put him on his bed, and uncle Dean watched them from the door as daddy entered along.

"Do you want your teddy?" papa offered as he laid him down.

"Marvin," he cooed.

Daddy gave the bear to him, and Jack held it close.

Jack curled in this bed with his bear. He knew they would talk more later, but right now he was a little boy, and his big bad didn't feel lonely anymore, but comforting as papa rubbed his back and led him to sleep.

. . .

"The Boy" is part of The Baby Jack Series and was posted on Patreon on April 2023. To read it and the two sequels, "The Girl" and "The Flu", consider subscribing to my page! It's just $2 a month and I promise you won't regret it.

. . .

Forever Tags: @emoryhemsworth​​ @amythyststorm33​​ @shaelyn102​​ @yknott81​​ ​​@maximofftrash​​ @kgbrenner​​ @thefridgeismybestie @magpiegirl80​ @mogaruke​ @shadowhunter7​​ @musicalcoffeebean @megasimpleplan4ever​​ @deemoriarty​​ @05spn18​​ @malindacath @kdcollinsauthor​​ @random-fandom-fangirl2112​​ @widowsfics @frozenhuntress67​​ @averyrogers83​​ @notyourtypicalrose​​ @nerdypinupcrystal @giruvega Forever SFW tags: @waywardempathhairdosalad? @newtospnfandom-blog​? @thewinterhunter? @amillionfandoms-onlyoneme @fandomlover2001 @heartislubbingdubbing

​Supernatural tags: @its-daydreamer23 @imagefanfictionlover @smalltowndivaj @tayrae515 @afanofmanystuffs @oneshoeshort @andkatiethings @wakanda-sometimes @akshi8278 @xoxabs88xox @izbelross @isabelle-faith @flamencodiva @lyarr24 Supernatural SFW tags: @daft-not-punk​ @chloe-skywalker @teenwaywardasgardian

#sam and dean #sam winchester #dean winchester #jack kline #castiel #castiel x sam #samstiel #jack & castiel #jack & sam #fluff #welldonebeca's baby jack series #baby jack #baby jack kline

[welldonebeca]

A Plan*

Summary: When you are curious about Castiel’s true form, your boyfriend has a plan. (A.K.A.: Size Kink.) Pairing: Castiel x F!Reader Warnings: Tension. Fluff. Smut. Size kink, degrading kink, praise kink, dirty talking, size difference, fluff. Patreon promo.

(A little peek)

It had been a week since you had talked about it, and you had given Castiel space to think about it. Honestly, you thought he was looking for ways to let you down gently.

"I have a plan," he told you.

"A plan?" you asked.

He nodded.

"Yes," your boyfriend sat down by your side. "My true form is too big and I don't want to overuse my grace, but I can minimise it."

His words made you frown, a bit.

"Minimise it?" you repeated.

"I'll make it smaller. But... accurate."

You nodded slowly, waiting for the rest of his explanation.

"And?" you asked.

"Let's go," he stood. "We can take one of the cars."

You blinked.

"Cas, how are you going to do it?" you insisted.

Your boyfriend stopped, and you chuckled when you saw he had just realised he had skipped an explanation.

"I found a place," he told you. "We can drive there, and I'll show it to you."

You wanted to push it, but bit your lip and took a piece of paper, quickly writing a note down and placing it under the ugly paperweight they had on the table.

Half an hour later, Castiel was by your side, giving you instructions as you drove out and in the direction of what looked like a dark field, chuckling to yourself when you realised how strange it looked.

This looked like the start of a tale about a serial killer.

Well, it wasn't too different from your line of work if you were to think of it.

"We are here," he told you, and jumped out when you did so.

You turned the car off and raised your eyebrows in surprise when you realised he was undressing, furrowing your brows in confusion.

"Is this part of the plan?" you asked.

"I don't want to damage my clothes," he explained, laying his trench coat over the car and placing each other piece over it.

"Close your eyes," he affirmed, standing with only his underwear on, and you complied.

There was a strange sound, and you heard Castiel exhaling.

It almost felt whimsical, like music, or a gush of wind.

And his presence, alone, it... made you feel different.

Good different.

"Open your eyes, my love," you heard, though unsure where his voice had come from.

It was everywhere.

You followed his instructions and your heart raced in your chest as you took him in.

His wings were the first thing that caught your eye. They were still black but shone with rainbow colours, majestically big.

Then, you looked at his body and was just shocked. He still resembled his vessel, like the image you knew of him, but was now double his previous size or more, well over 12 feet tall.

His body looked like carved marble, with white and blue colours that just felt right and perfect.

"Cas," you sighed.

You didn't even have words for what you were feeling.

"You're beautiful."

Castiel's lips curled in a smile, but he seemed awed as he looked at his own body.

"I look more like Jimmy than the last time," he confessed softly.

"Is that alright?" you asked.

"It is," he confirmed, sounding a little guilty. "My time on Earth has made me see my vessel as myself. I think my form reflects that. I'm sorry, this isn't what I thought you would see."

You stepped closer to him and extended your hand, and your boyfriend knelt in front of you with a hesitant look on his face, but it faded when you touched his cheek. He was warm, like when you touched a lightbulb, but it caused you no pain or discomfort.

"I think we have already established that I will always see you as beautiful regardless of what you look like," you caressed his warm skin. "I love you in any form, because you are you. And you are perfect."

He relaxed, sighing softly over you, and moved back slowly.

You were ready to let him go, but your eyes widened when they fell on a detail.

He had a dick.

. . .

"A Plan" is up on my Patreon right now. To have early access to it and many other stories, consider subscribing to my page! It's just $2 a month and I promise you won't regret it.

. . .

Forever Tags: @emoryhemsworth​​ @amythyststorm33​​ @shaelyn102 @yknott81​​ ​​@maximofftrash​​ @kgbrenner​​ @thefridgeismybestie @magpiegirl80​ @mogaruke​ @shadowhunter7​​ @musicalcoffeebean @megasimpleplan4ever​​ @deemoriarty​​ @05spn18​​ @malindacath @kdcollinsauthor​​ @random-fandom-fangirl2112​​ @widowsfics @frozenhuntress67​​ @averyrogers83​​ @notyourtypicalrose​​ @nerdypinupcrystal @giruvega

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#castiel smut #castiel #welldonebeca's the plan #castiel x reader #castiel supernatural #castiel x you #castiel x reader smut #patreon promo #patreon writer #spn

[welldonebeca]

The Boy (2)

Summary: During a witch hunt, Jack accidentally turns into a little kid. The problem is that it wasn’t a spell. Sometimes he just wants his body to reflect the age he sometimes feels like. The thing is… the guys don’t know about that. Yet. Characters: Jack, Dean. Sam, Castiel. WC: 1.6k words Warnings: Age regression. Fluff. Angst. Canon. Minor Samstiel;.

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 a month and I promise you won’t regret it.

Masterlist

Jack clapped his hands, sat over daddy's knee, excited as uncle Dean pressed the buttons of the microwave to make his pancakes.

He was still small when he woke up, a little freer than ever before, a little happier too.

He was a baby! Their baby!

Daddy was already eating, it was a salad, a green looking thing, and tried to feed it to him, but it was gross!

"Pancakes!" he shouted, slapping the table.

Uncle Dean laughed.

"Don't worry, Jack," papa explained it to him calmly. "The pancakes are almost done."

The microwave beeped, and uncle Dean took the pancakes from inside it and set it in front of him with a bottle of syrup aside.

"There ya go, boy," he told him. "Pancakes."

His eyes grew. They looked so tasty!

"You should cut them up, Dean," daddy tried to say.

Before anyone could take his pancakes away, Jack reached up and grabbed one small one, shoving it into his mouth.

"Let me take this," papa grabbed the syrup. "He doesn't need this much sugar."

Jack didn't care! It was easier to eat like this without syrup and with his hands.

They all waited for him to finish up, and uncle Dean took his plate away when he was done before they had to go.

"Time to get into your clean clothes, baby," daddy cooed, kissing his cheeks.

Jack giggled. He liked that! Kisses were so fun!

Once, when he was big, Sam kissed his forehead, but it was only when he was sick.

But now he was small, and he was kissing his cheeks and his forehead, and was petting his hair, and it was all so nice.

Sam kept kissing him while he dressed him up and looked so happy. He even blew raspberries into his belly!

"Wow, Sam. You are really acting like a dad, uh?" uncle Dean teased him.

Papa hummed along.

"You really do," he remarked.

Daddy flushed, flustered.

"He is probably scared, Dean," he mumbled, picking him up. "He needs affection."

Jack smiled, cuddling up with him. Daddy was always good, he made sure he wasn't scared. When Dean was being mean, daddy always made him feel safe.

No matter what, Sam wanted him to be happy. And Jack wanted to be like this forever.

Once they were out, papa took him and sat him on his lap for the car ride. They didn't have any car seats, but he didn't mind. Papa's grip was stronger than any car seat.

He held papa's hand as the car moved, soothed by the movement, but his worries started to grow when he realised where they were and how much closer to the bunker they were now.

And then, he wasn't feeling so small anymore.

What would they say when he got bigger again?

Jack wasn't a good liar, they would find out if he was hiding things.

But it was so good!

He huffed and kicked the air.

Why couldn't he be a baby all the time?!

"Jack, baby?" papa asked. "What is wrong?"

He just whined. Jack wanted to speak, but his throat was all clogged up! All he could do was whine and squirm.

"Maybe he needs a nap?" Uncle Dean suggested.

He kicked more. No nap! He wanted the car to stop! He didn't want to go back home!

Jack wanted to stay in his tiny room and get small pancakes, and be tiny, cause he was a tiny boy!

Still, Papa reached for him and got him in his arms, rocking him lovingly, and pressing his cheek against his chest, caressing his hair.

Suddenly, he felt his chest vibrating, and heard him humming a song.

Jack looked up at him with watery eyes as papa sang him a song, feeling calmer, but scared.

"I'm sorry, Papa," he said slowly, dozzy. "Don't be mad."

He fell asleep, hoping everyone else wasn't so confused as he slept.

When he woke up, he was still in his papa's arms, but he was walking now.

Jack wanted to be put down, but he was so sleepy, and being held was so nice.

"We should go lay him down in this bed, and then we can start researching," daddy instructed.

Papa squeezed him a little closer.

"I can watch him sleep," he affirmed. "I don't want him to fall over."

Uncle Dean scoffed.

"He is not an infant, Cas. Jack is... What? Five? Just put pillows around him and he'll be good."

They were back at the bunker? In his room?

Wait!

"The kid has a lot of stuffed animals, uh?" Dean wondered out loud. "Pretty soft, though."

He squeezed his eyes shut.

No, no!

" I haven't been in Jack's room for some time," papa said.

His ears suddenly picked up the rustling of paper, and he opened his eyes and turned to look, finding daddy holding in his hands was his drawing of their family.

His breathing grew fast, and he started to cry aloud, and in a blip, he was out of his papa's arm and on the floor, somewhere else, panicking.

He looked around. He was still in the bunker, in the Dean cave.

Jack crawled to hide.

They were gonna be mad at him! He wanted to be big right now - he had to leave properly - but he was still so little and being away from his daddies was so scary.

He stayed under the couch, trying to calm down but he couldn't stop crying!

But it didnt take long for them to find him

"Jack!" Dean called out, and he could see his feet before he knelt to try to grab him, but Jack cried and scooted farther back.

"Dean, please," he heard papa's voice, and saw his shoes from far away. "Jack, baby, please come out. We can talk."

No, no. They were mad! They were going to be mad at him!

There was quiet and silence for a bit, and he felt his worry growing.

Had they left?

Jack jumped when a big hand reached out and stopped a bit away from him.

"Jack?" daddy asked softly. "It's alright, no one is mad at you."

He sniffed. Yes, they were!

"Was that your drawing? The one I saw?"

He perked up.

"Yes," Jack mumbled.

He loved that drawing. He remembered wanting to show Sam, but not like this!

"It's a beautiful drawing," be praised. "You are such a good artist."

Jack stopped sniffling and flushed.

He was?

He saw daddy moving, and he sat down by the couch.

"You must have worked really hard," he remarked

He did! Jack had even tried to colour his family's aura, but some colours were just not easy to make with his twelve crayons.

"You know, I think I want to put it up in the fridge," he told him. "But I want you to see me doing it."

Jack slowly grabbed daddy's hand, too small to get more than two of his fingers and hold them tight.

"Not mad?" he asked softly.

"I promise you," he affirmed. "Not mad."

He crawled out, and his daddies were waiting, and uncle Dean tilted his head.

"I'm pretty sure nothing can fit under the couch," he mumbled to papa.

Papa didn't even look at him, quickly moving to Jack.

"Baby. You are all dusty," he picked him up, cleaning his head.

Jack looked over at Sam, all hopeful.

"Drawing?"

Daddy nodded and gestured for everyone to follow him.

They all went to the kitchen, and daddy proudly placed his drawing on the door with a magnet.

Jack's heart soared. He never thought he could see his drawing on the fridge! Now he would see it everyday and his daddies would know he loved them!

"Jack?" papa called softly, and he turned to look at him.

Papa gave him a look.

Oh. Yes. Love meant being honest, too.

"The lady witch didn't do this to me," he confessed. "I did it to me."

Dean cleared his throat.

"So you made yourself into a kid?" he asked.

He nodded, and Sam touched his hand gently.

"Do you... Do you want to be a kid?" daddy asked, worried.

Jack nodded but stopped.

"Not all the time," he told them. "I like being big sometimes. I like driving and doing big boy things."

He fumbled with his shirt.

"I wish I was a baby," he told them. "I remember when I was born and I had to be big really fast, and I didn't want that."

His stomach twisted and his nose went all sniffly again.

It was sad because it was true.

Jack heard sniffling and it wasn't his own, and when he looked, he saw papa was crying.

"I'm sorry, Jack," he squeezed him. "I should have protected you, and raised you!"

He reached for his face, caressing it.

"It's okay, papa," he told him. "You are here now and I'm not scared anymore, I promise!"

He held him close for a long time, squeezing and rocking him, and Jack felt his eyes heavy.

"I'm tired," he mumbled.

Daddy and uncle Dean chuckled.

Crying was really tiring.

"Let's get you to your bed," Sam cooed, and they walked back to his room.

Papa put him on his bed, and uncle Dean watched them from the door as daddy entered along.

"Do you want your teddy?" papa offered as he laid him down.

"Marvin," he cooed.

Daddy gave the bear to him, and Jack held it close.

Jack curled in this bed with his bear. He knew they would talk more later, but right now he was a little boy, and his big bad didn't feel lonely anymore, but comforting as papa rubbed his back and led him to sleep.

. . .

"The Boy" is part of The Baby Jack Series and was posted on Patreon on April 2023. To read it and the two sequels, "The Girl" and "The Flu", consider subscribing to my page! It's just $2 a month and I promise you won't regret it.

. . .

Forever Tags: @emoryhemsworth​​ @amythyststorm33​​ @shaelyn102​​ @yknott81​​ ​​@maximofftrash​​ @kgbrenner​​ @thefridgeismybestie @magpiegirl80​ @mogaruke​ @shadowhunter7​​ @musicalcoffeebean @megasimpleplan4ever​​ @deemoriarty​​ @05spn18​​ @malindacath @kdcollinsauthor​​ @random-fandom-fangirl2112​​ @widowsfics @frozenhuntress67​​ @averyrogers83​​ @notyourtypicalrose​​ @nerdypinupcrystal @giruvega Forever SFW tags: @waywardempathhairdosalad? @newtospnfandom-blog​? @thewinterhunter? @amillionfandoms-onlyoneme @fandomlover2001 @heartislubbingdubbing

​Supernatural tags: @its-daydreamer23 @imagefanfictionlover @smalltowndivaj @tayrae515 @afanofmanystuffs @oneshoeshort @andkatiethings @wakanda-sometimes @akshi8278 @xoxabs88xox @izbelross @isabelle-faith @flamencodiva @lyarr24 Supernatural SFW tags: @daft-not-punk​ @chloe-skywalker @teenwaywardasgardian

#sam and dean #sam winchester #dean winchester #jack kline #castiel #castiel x sam #samstiel #jack & castiel #jack & sam #fluff #welldonebeca's baby jack series #baby jack #baby jack kline

[welldonebeca]

A Plan*

Summary: When you are curious about Castiel’s true form, your boyfriend has a plan. (A.K.A.: Size Kink.) Pairing: Castiel x F!Reader Warnings: Tension. Fluff. Smut. Size kink, degrading kink, praise kink, dirty talking, size difference, fluff. Patreon promo.

(A little peek)

It had been a week since you had talked about it, and you had given Castiel space to think about it. Honestly, you thought he was looking for ways to let you down gently.

"I have a plan," he told you.

"A plan?" you asked.

He nodded.

"Yes," your boyfriend sat down by your side. "My true form is too big and I don't want to overuse my grace, but I can minimise it."

His words made you frown, a bit.

"Minimise it?" you repeated.

"I'll make it smaller. But... accurate."

You nodded slowly, waiting for the rest of his explanation.

"And?" you asked.

"Let's go," he stood. "We can take one of the cars."

You blinked.

"Cas, how are you going to do it?" you insisted.

Your boyfriend stopped, and you chuckled when you saw he had just realised he had skipped an explanation.

"I found a place," he told you. "We can drive there, and I'll show it to you."

You wanted to push it, but bit your lip and took a piece of paper, quickly writing a note down and placing it under the ugly paperweight they had on the table.

Half an hour later, Castiel was by your side, giving you instructions as you drove out and in the direction of what looked like a dark field, chuckling to yourself when you realised how strange it looked.

This looked like the start of a tale about a serial killer.

Well, it wasn't too different from your line of work if you were to think of it.

"We are here," he told you, and jumped out when you did so.

You turned the car off and raised your eyebrows in surprise when you realised he was undressing, furrowing your brows in confusion.

"Is this part of the plan?" you asked.

"I don't want to damage my clothes," he explained, laying his trench coat over the car and placing each other piece over it.

"Close your eyes," he affirmed, standing with only his underwear on, and you complied.

There was a strange sound, and you heard Castiel exhaling.

It almost felt whimsical, like music, or a gush of wind.

And his presence, alone, it... made you feel different.

Good different.

"Open your eyes, my love," you heard, though unsure where his voice had come from.

It was everywhere.

You followed his instructions and your heart raced in your chest as you took him in.

His wings were the first thing that caught your eye. They were still black but shone with rainbow colours, majestically big.

Then, you looked at his body and was just shocked. He still resembled his vessel, like the image you knew of him, but was now double his previous size or more, well over 12 feet tall.

His body looked like carved marble, with white and blue colours that just felt right and perfect.

"Cas," you sighed.

You didn't even have words for what you were feeling.

"You're beautiful."

Castiel's lips curled in a smile, but he seemed awed as he looked at his own body.

"I look more like Jimmy than the last time," he confessed softly.

"Is that alright?" you asked.

"It is," he confirmed, sounding a little guilty. "My time on Earth has made me see my vessel as myself. I think my form reflects that. I'm sorry, this isn't what I thought you would see."

You stepped closer to him and extended your hand, and your boyfriend knelt in front of you with a hesitant look on his face, but it faded when you touched his cheek. He was warm, like when you touched a lightbulb, but it caused you no pain or discomfort.

"I think we have already established that I will always see you as beautiful regardless of what you look like," you caressed his warm skin. "I love you in any form, because you are you. And you are perfect."

He relaxed, sighing softly over you, and moved back slowly.

You were ready to let him go, but your eyes widened when they fell on a detail.

He had a dick.

. . .

"A Plan" is up on my Patreon right now. To have early access to it and many other stories, consider subscribing to my page! It's just $2 a month and I promise you won't regret it.

. . .

Forever Tags: @emoryhemsworth​​ @amythyststorm33​​ @shaelyn102 @yknott81​​ ​​@maximofftrash​​ @kgbrenner​​ @thefridgeismybestie @magpiegirl80​ @mogaruke​ @shadowhunter7​​ @musicalcoffeebean @megasimpleplan4ever​​ @deemoriarty​​ @05spn18​​ @malindacath @kdcollinsauthor​​ @random-fandom-fangirl2112​​ @widowsfics @frozenhuntress67​​ @averyrogers83​​ @notyourtypicalrose​​ @nerdypinupcrystal @giruvega

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@xoxabs88xox @izbelross @isabelle-faith @flamencodiva @lyarr24

#welldonebeca's the plan #castiel #castiel smut #castiel x reader #castiel supernatural #castiel x you #castiel x reader smut #spn #patreon promo #patreon writer

[welldonebeca]

Reblog if you write fanfic and would be totally down with your followers coming into you askbox and talking to you about your fic

[welldonebeca]

[welldonebeca]

it's a Bad Idea, right? (2)

Summary: The worst idea a waitress in MamaStefka can have is to fall in love with a man in Hydra. They aren’t supposed to even talk! It doesn’t stop Betty, though. Warnings: Mafia AU. Secret identity au. Tension.

Masterlist

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 a month and I promise you won’t regret it.

Gideon ordered for everyone, so quick with his words that Betty knew a waitress unused to nights of many heads would struggle to write everything down quickly, and the German man followed her with his eyes as she went to the station to put the order in, barely blinking while she served their food.

It was unsettling, feeling his eyes tracking her every move, as if she was about to pull a gun and shoot everyone in that room.

“Betty is not a head,” she heard Nathaniel telling as she wiped a nearby emptied table. “I don’t know how much she knows, but it’s not much.”

“How are you so sure?” the German man asked, and she was finally given the chance to register his voice.

It was a bit deep, very smooth and warm. It was very nice, the kind of voice Betty would enjoy having whispering sweet nothings into her ear.

Nathaniel chuckled, the sound very familiar to her. She’d spent enough Summer mornings hearing it to know it anywhere.

“She’s a waitress,” he spoke, dismissing it. “The girls here aren’t very bright. They come to America to find a husband, not join the fight.”

Betty wanted to scoff. Well, wasn’t that nice from him? Finding a husband was far from what she thought of when she came to America – not that she had achieved what she had come for, she was a waitress after all.

But there was still something else in his voice too, a protectiveness you had come to know in the time she had known him. ‘Stay away from her’, it said.

So she kept her face straight and walked off, carrying the plates to the sink and poking Pietro to get his attention off his phone.

“Your shift has barely started, and you’re already glued to that,” she complained.

He scoffed, annoyed.

“I was having a break,” he pocketed it under his apron. “It’s too early for me to rush over five plates and two pans.”

Betty rolled her eyes.

They were roommates, Betty and the Maximoffs. They lived a walking distance away from the restaurant and in a nice flat with enough space for two people, but it fit three fine, they just had to convert the mezzanine – made for storage – into a bedroom for Piet, but he liked tall places, so it was alright.

A whole ass diploma and she still had to share a shoe box with a pair of Sokovian twins.

What a life.

“Hey,” he whispered. “Any Hydra?”

Betty glared at him. They weren’t supposed to acknowledge Hydra!

“Do I look like Percy Jackson to you?” she hissed back. “Shut your mouth before you get us into trouble!”

He didn't stop though, and for a second, he kinda looked like a kicked puppy.

"They tip well, you know," he muttered. "Can't really say no to good tips."

Betty scoffed. Well, Piet wasn’t wrong, she was not in a state to refuse service to Hydra and their police of paying for silence.

Two years after getting her master’s degree, she was still yet to find a real job in her area, unless you considered retail fashion.

She had tried hard, sponsored her own visa and burned through all of her savings to stay in that country just to work as a waitress.

So she did need tips to survive.

The chef got her order out pronto, and Betty didn't bother checking it too hard. They never sent food back. It could be raw and tasteless, or charcoal on the edges, and Hydra would still pay up good and tip generously.

So there was a big smile on her face as she served them, and Betty did her best to look as mindless and possible; dumb little waitress was a role she was very good at playing.

"And if you need anything else, just let me know," she finished up.

The Malicks all nodded, and her eyes connected with German’s for a moment, getting a nervous chill up her spine, looking away quickly.

“Excuse me,” she walked off.

Eyes that sweet shouldn’t be in a man this dangerous.

She hid in the kitchen for a minute, something pooling in her belly.

Nope, nope, nope. Pretty eyes or not, he was Hydra. If one wants to play with their luck, it's safer walking into a Casino and betting one's life’s savings into a random number.

"Hey," Wanda whispered, pulling her out of her thoughts. "What's with the face?"

Betty shook her head, arms crossed.

"Phone bill's due tomorrow," she spun a lie, though it was kinda true.

Wanda groaned.

"Wi-fi's due too," she sighed. "I hope we cash in on tips tonight. I don't think I can wait for payday."

Betty bit her nail. Yeah, exactly.

The rest of the night was pretty steady. The restaurant filled up, and she was glad for the extra customers in her section. It kept her distracted, coming and going, cleaning tables, and serving up grub.

The whole time, her first table didn’t move.

But eventually, it was her job to go back. They didn't say much while she cleared their plates, just stared at her like they were on edge, until Fred coughed.

"We'll scope out the dessert menu," he finally said, still a bit tense. "Please."

She confirmed.

“I’ll put the plates away and bring it,” she told him. “Do you guys want a suggestion from the chef?”

A little knowing smile played on Nathan’s lips, but he held it back quickly. There was no chef. Half of those desserts were bought, and the rest were whipped up quickly by whoever was free. Betty herself had baked pudding at home to bring in just yesterday.

“No, thank you,” he spoke, at last.

She walked off, ignoring Natasha's confused look. When she came back to the table, the German guy had vanished, and the guys were getting their coats.

"We're out," Fred told her. "Thanks, Elżbieta."

A bill sat there, and both Fred and Nathaniel forked out more cash.

"Hopefully that covers it, you can keep the change," Nathaniel handed her the money. "Sorry, can't stick around for the bill."

She checked it. Oh, 200. They hadn't even hit 70.

"Yeah, that's plenty," she pocketed it. "Tell your mum I said hey."

"You should drop by," Nathaniel said. "She's been asking about you."

Betty nodded. Mrs. Malick was a real sweetheart to her.

"I'll try to swing by on my off day," she promised. "I'll even bring some Szarlotka – I know she's into it."

But he shook his head quickly, glancing at his brothers as they headed off.

"Doc's got her on a sugar watch," he said. "Her blood sugar's playing up, so we're keeping it in check."

0Betty agreed. "Of course, I'll keep that in mind."

Nate waved a quick goodbye, following his brothers.

Well, it looked like her phone was getting paid today.

…

“it’s a Bad Idea, right?” was posted on my Patreon in September 2023. To have early access to it (and lots of other stories), consider subscribe to my page! It’s just $2 a month, and I know you won’t regret it!

…

[welldonebeca]

The Boy (I)

Summary: During a witch hunt, Jack accidentally turns into a little kid.

The problem is that it wasn’t a spell. Sometimes he just wants his body to reflect the age he sometimes feels like.

The thing is… the guys don’t know about that. Yet.

Characters: Jack, Dean. Sam, Castiel.

WC: 2.5k words

Warnings: Age regression. Fluff. Angst. Canon.

Masterlist

Jack watched his feet swinging for a moment, too short for the tall bed.

He didn't know when he had gotten this power. Maybe he always had it.

He remembered being a baby in his mother's womb and feeling how scared and afraid to have him out there in the world like a baby, so he made himself grown.

Or maybe it was something that came from absorbing Chuck's power, though most of it was gone - Free will was finally real.

Either way, Jack just knew that one day he was in his bed, watching TV on his laptop, and then he looked down on himself and he was just a small child.

He didn't freak out.

It wasn't like he didn't want it.

So he reached for his favourite teddy - talking Marwin, a gift from Cas - and hugged him close. It was so much bigger now, he needed more than just his hand to hold it close.

"What do I do?" he tried to ask, but the bear didn't answer, so he just went back to his show.

Bluey was very cool. The music was nice, and he wanted to be like her.

He wished he had someone to giggle around and play with, like Bluey had Bingo.

Jack kept watching for another hour, and by the time Sam was back to get him for dinner, he was older again.

He didn't understand what it all meant, but he didn't want to stop.

So, since he was an actual adult, he went online and got things for himself. Colouring books, toys, squishmallows - his favourite - and lots of soft clothes that made him feel very small.

Now, Jack knew he should tell someone. He knew he probably should have told his father, most especially. But thinking of telling him made him think of the empty and how he died because he was trying to save him, and his stomach would act all weird, and he knew he would cry if he was smaller.

They didn't talk about things because Jack had fixed everything!

So why mess it up again?

So, he kept it a secret. Dean always said that usually worked. And it did.

Until it didn't.

They were out to a hunt in New Orleans, in the swamps, and Dean was excited to bring Jack along. He wanted Jack to get better at hunting, which made him excited! He craved Dean's approval and worked hard for it.

Even though Dean's motto was ‘prepare for anything’, they were not prepared for five swamp witches. Castiel was able to take some on his own, but with his limited grace, he had to team up with Dean, and Jack did the same with Sam.

He tried to stay close to him, but then he was thrown into the lake, and when he was out, the witches had his dad in a chokehold of vines.

"No!" he cried out.

"You killed my sister," she hissed cruelly. "I'll take something from you, too, now."

The vines wrapped around him, pulling him into the mud, and Jack panicked.

"No, please," he tried to beg as Sam's face became red.

She couldn't hurt him, no!

"I'll drown you until you die," she taunted Jack. "And kill your father here right in front of your eyes, and you can do nothing about it."

"No!" he shouted, feeling his eyes glowing. "You won't hurt him! I won't let anyone else die!"

A blast of light came out of him and he couldn't stop screaming, until his throat was hurting and he was sobbing, tiny feet stuck in the mud and the vines weren't holding him anymore.

"Jack?!" he heard. "Oh my God."

Sam grabbed him, lifting him, and Jack whined, crying and crying, trying to stop but he just couldn't!

His emotions were too much, everything was too much.

He barely understood what the others said as Sam wrapped something warm and soft around him and rubbed his back, walking.

The floor was so distant now, he was so tall.

"It's alright," he spoke softly. "You are alright, it's alright."

But he just fisted his shirt in his little hands.

Of course he knew he was alright! But he was scared.

She had almost killed him.

"Are you sure he isn't hurt?" Castiel asked from behind him.

"I checked," Sam's big hands rubbed his back. "But he won't calm down."

He sat in the car with him, and he could hear movement around them.

"Boy might be small, but he's got some strong lungs," Dean grunted.

They could have died!

Again!

And he couldn’t see them dying again, he couldn’t!

What if he hadn’t saved them, and then they were hurt? And maybe one of the witches was still there and maybe she would come after them, and then his family would be hurt, and…

“Alright!” Dean spoke and the car suddenly stopped. “Give him to me. You drive.”

Sam froze, holding him.

“Dean…”

"I will not be driving back to the motel covered in swamp and witch guts with a screaming kid,” he interrupted him. “Hand him to me.”

Jack cried more. Was he mad at him?

Had he done anything wrong? Why was he so loud and angry?

Sam moved and passed him on, and Jack was ready to hear him saying he was crying too much, and was disturbing them and had to shut, up, but Dean just held him close.

“Hey, Jack,” he spoke softly, rubbing his back with a hand and petting his hair with another. “It’s alright. We’re safe, everyone is safe.”

Jack squeezed his shirt in his hand, trying to breathe. But before they weren’t!

“You’re safe,” he assured him again. “We are safe. We are going to be alright.”

He could just sniff, and Dean moved him back, looking at his face, and focused his green eyes on him.

“Can you breathe with me?” he asked.

Jack tried to nod, still sobbing, and Dean opened his mouth like a fish, taking his hand and putting it on his chest and doing the same with Jack.

“We suck in,” he instructed, and breathed in, and he tried to follow him along. “Hold it.”

Dean puffed his cheeks, and he did the same,

He raised his hand, and showed him his closed fist, counting up to five with it.

“And out,” he exhaled slowly.

He nodded, doing it with him, and Dean smiled softly.

“Again, okay?” he asked.

Jack let him guide him, and finally felt himself a little bit calmer, and rested his cheek on his chest, turning to the side as Dean just continued to rub his back, now slowly.

It was only then that he saw Sam.

He was all dirty, with big red marks on his neck.

Oh no!

He whined, unable to stop himself, and Dean brushed his hair back.

“Hey,” he called softly, making him look at him. “You’re scared for Sammy, that is it? He’s okay, it was just a scare. Sammy is a big boy.”

He nodded to himself. Alright, okay.

Yes, he was alright.

Sam was super strong. Well, not as strong as Cas, but still really strong!

He almost dozed off into Dean’s chest - the car was moving so nicely, and the noise felt good. But Jack woke up when they reached the motel, and he adjusted him in his arms.

“Okay, Jack,” he squeezed him a little, opening the door of the car. “Let’s get you cleaned up, uh?”

“I do it,” Castiel spoke before Dean could step out, and he turned to see him standing outside.

He felt him stopping.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “I mean, he’s like… he is a kid, we should-”

“He is my son, Dean,” Castiel interrupted him, firmly.

Jack turned to look at him, and stretched his arms to him, and put his head on his shoulder when his father picked him up.

Cas easily graced all the mud and blood away from him, but he put some warm water to place Jack in the tub, and knelt in front of him to scrub him clean.

He just wished they had some bath toys. The water felt so boring.

"Jack?" he called softly, rubbing soap on his arms and shoulders, to clean him. "Do you know who I am?"

He looked up and smiled. Of course he knew!

"Papa!" he cooed.

Castiel relaxed, his shoulders dropping a little as he relaxed.

“Yes, sweet boy,” he scrubbed his neck. “Do you know how this happened?"

Oh.

They didn’t know that it was Jack who had done this.

They probably thought it was the witch.

The witch who had been trying to hurt his dad, and then he-

"I hurt that lady," he realised, pouting and running his hand through the water while Cas ran shampoo through his hair.

"You were protecting Sam," Cas corrected him, and covered his eyes with a clean hand as he rinsed it off.

Still, Jack continued to pout.

"I don’t like hurting people..." he confessed.

Even if it was to protect other people.

Castiel sighed and looked at him, sad.

"I know, and you shouldn’t have to," he caressed his hair. "You seem to be all clean, are you ready to come out?"

Jack nodded. He usually liked bath time at the bunker, but there were no bubbles he could make and no toys he could play with, so he just let papa lift him up and bundle him in a towel.

When they walked into their room, seeing Dean walk past them, he raised his eyes to find Sam there in front of a mirror.

"Sam,” Cas squeezed him close. “Let me heal you.”

He shook his head, looking at them.

"No, no, Cas, you’ve used up a lot of grace,” he waved a hand to him, not even looking in his direction. “It’s just the skin, don’t worry."

When he turned around, his face softened the moment Sam saw him.

"Hey buddy,” he walked to him, and tickled his belly, making him giggle. “Your dad got you all cleaned up, uh?”

“He is not a muddy boy anymore,” Castiel joked.

Sam smiled and touched his face, hand looking huge.

"Well, it looks like Jack's clothes shrunk with him, but they’re all pretty dirty,” he told his papa and then looked at him. “So your tighty whiteys will have to do, little man, and you can borrow one of Dean's shirts."

He giggled.

Tighty whiteys.

He was still laughing about it as Sam pulled a Metallica shirt over him, covering him up like a dress - though Jack didn’t quite care - and jumped at the fluffy motel carpet when his feet touched it.

So fluffy!

“Are you sure he should be barefoot on this carpet?” Castiel asked, eyes focused on it as if he could see every stain down the molecular level. “It’s so dirty.”

Jack giggled.

Molecular.

That was a funny word too.

“Well, his socks are all caked with mud,” Sam remarked. “Plus, kids build up immunity. He’ll be alright.”

Jack fell seated, and then slapped the carpet.

Fluffy fluff.

“I didn’t hear the witch say anything before she died,” he told them, sounding more serious. “Are you sure it’s a curse?

“What else could it be?” Castiel asked back, and Sam sighed.

“We shouldn’t have gone on this hunt,” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “But it’s what we do, right?”

The two exchanged looks, and his Papa tilted his head, looking sad and unsure.

“Does it always have to be?”

The question hung in the air before the bathroom door opened, and Dean looked over at them.

"Is that my shirt?" Dean suddenly looked at Jack and he smiled, pulling his legs under it.

"He needed clothes," Sam said simply, walking into the bathroom and closing the door.

He was so tall.

Dean sighed

"That was the only shirt I packed," he huffed, but he didn’t seem to care, laying on the bed shirtless.

Oh! The bed!

He stood up and tried to climb up, grabbing the mattress and jumping a little.

He was too little to climb.

“Unkie Dean!” he whined.

Dean chuckled.

“You got it, buddy,” he flipped through the channels. “I believe in you.”

Jack stopped, surprised.

He did?!

“Okie,” he grabbed the mattress, trying his hardest.

“Do you want my help?” papa offered.

He shook his head.

“No, thank you,” he swung his leg up, propping it against the mattress to help him up. “I got it.”

He was able to throw his arms over, but the quilted blanket started to make him slip down just after he grabbed it, and Jack gasped, falling on his butt on the carpet.

“Oh no, poor buddy,” Dean laughed.

He pouted, feeling his lip trembling and about to cry, but suddenly Dean’s arm swung over the side of the bed, and he didn’t seem to notice it, just watching the TV.

This was his chance!

Jack grabbed his arm and used it to climb up right, and almost missed when he helped him move up, pulling his arm back and holding his leg.

“See?” he asked. “I told you that you could do it.”

He squealed, all excited, and jumped on the bed, happy.

“Papa, I did it!”

Castiel walked to him, putting his arm out, looking a little cautious.

"I’m so proud of you, angel," he smiled.

Jack giggled, feeling a little flushed as he fell and sat on the bed.

“Yeah, you are a baby angel, uh?” Dean teased, tickling his belly.

Jack huffed. Baby? He wasn’t a baby!

“I’m not a baby!” he held up his hand. “I’m five! Not a baby!”

Dean just chuckled

“Oh yes you’re right you’re not a little baby with a cute baby face,” he suddenly scooped Jack into his arms, trapping him between his chest, squeezing and tickling him more.

He couldn’t help laughing more.

“Be careful Dean,” Sam called, and he looked over to find him across the room in his pyjamas. “We don’t know if he remembers being potty trained.”

He wanted to frown, but only managed to laugh.

Of course he remembered how to use the potty!

“Daddy!” he called, squirming away from him. “Help!”

Sam hurried over and picked him up, freeing Jack from his brother's tickling fingers.

“You’re safe,” he smiled.

Jack watched his face, finding him a little conflicted, but just cuddled up to him.

“Daddy,” he yawned.

Oh, he was sleepy.

Sam moved to his bed and gave him space to cuddle up to him.

“Don’t think too much about it, Sammy,” Dean yawned. “Tomorrow we’ll get back to the bunker and we’ll figure out what to do.”

Jack squirmed a bit but tried to keep his eyes closed.

His bigger side was worried about what he could say when they got back home. He couldn’t be a baby forever, but he didn’t want to go back to being just Jack.

He relaxed when he felt a hand on his hair, brushing it back, and a kiss on his forehead.

“Sleep well, Jack,” papa’s deep voice soothed him while daddy held him closer. “I’ll watch over you.”

Maybe he could try to stay little for just a little longer.

#Welldonebeca's Baby Jack #jack kline #baby jack

[welldonebeca]

it's a Bad Idea, right? (1)

Summary: The worst idea a waitress in Mama Stefka can have is to fall in love with a man in Hydra. They aren’t supposed to even talk! It doesn’t stop Betty, though. Warnings: Mafia AU. Secret identity au. Tension.

Masterlist

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 a month and I promise you won’t regret it.

“Mila,” Betty called out, washing her hands in the kitchen sink. “Did you cut the lemons last night?”

The restaurant was going to open in two minutes, it was Friday. They needed lemons for the tea.

Mila always did that, every time it was her turn to cut the lemons the night before, she would not do it and everyone would be left scrambling for brunch time.

“On it now,” she called out.

Betty rolled her eyes but didn’t complain.

As long as she did it…

Betty took her apron, wrapping it around her waist and looking around for her pen.

“Hey,” Elena walked into the kitchen, phone in hand. “Does anyone speak German?”

She looked around, and the other waitresses did the same.

Was Ruby in today?

“No one?” Mila insisted. “Really?”

Betty shrugged.

Mama Stefka was a blend  - a crock-pot if someone were to ask the girls -  of everything East Europe and more. It was founded by a Bulgarian family she didn’t know when, and it slowly grew into something more. By now, it had a little bit of everything from everywhere.

Betty. Well…  Elżbieta was Polish. She was the only one, but the team was full of girls from every little place possible.

Taty from Belarus, Anna and Elena from Moldova, Martina from Slovakia, Natalia from Russia…

“Wait, isn’t Nat coming today?” Betty realised. “She speaks German.”

Natalia was their hostess, she’d been in the restaurant for ten years or something when they were still a tiny thing with just Bulgarian food.

Everyone had gotten there before Betty, to be fair.

Debbie’s face lit up.

“Yes! When is she coming?”

But before anyone answered, the door opened, and Nat walked in, looking rushed and pink on the face.

“I’m sorry, I got stuck in traffic,” she apologised quickly, a bit breathless.

Debbie rushed to her, passing her a phone Betty didn’t even know she was holding.

“It’s on mute. They need someone who speaks German to serve them tonight.”

Natalia picked it up, pressing it to her ear.

"Hallo, hier ist Natalia vom Mama Stefka. Wie kann ich Ihnen behilflich sein?"

She walked off to the employees area, too stable on her huge heels.

"Natürlich können wir das arrangieren," she answered, very cheerful. "Sieben Uhr? Ja, fünf Personen."

Wanda walked past Betty, looking back at Nat and then at her again.

“Well, someone needs to learn German,” Wanda sighed.

“Not me,” Betty pocketed her stuff. “I already know languages enough and get paid the same thing as a waitress who only speaks one.”

She walked off to the dining room, joining Debbie as she put the chairs down into the right places, still barefoot.

English wasn’t constantly spoken in Mama Stefka. Most of the visitors were immigrants or children of immigrants. Everyone knew everyone in their community, it meant solace and community, even though not everyone was from the same country.

Well, that and their involvement with Hydra.

Okay, so no everyone who went to Mama Stefka was involved with Hydra, but they either knew someone from Hydra, was from Hydra, or was too clueless about Hydra to know their kid, sibling, parent or partner was in Hydra – or they just really liked their food, but those were very few people.

Betty, and all of the other waitress, pretended not to know.

It was better to be oblivious than to be in danger.

Half an hour later, the place was on its way to blooming, and her section already had a few tables full when Nat called for her in the kitchen.

“The Malicks are here,” she called out. “They’re asking to sit with you.”

Betty lit up. Oh, the Malicks were delightful!

When Betty had come to America, Mrs Malick had given her a room, so she wouldn’t have to pay for a hotel before school started, and always took her back during school breaks when her dorm was closed.

Studying in New York wasn’t for everyone.

It also didn’t guarantee a job, which was why she was at Mama Stefka. They always welcomed Eastern girls in need of work and money to keep a roof over their heads.

But when Betty walked out to the dining room, Mrs Malick was nowhere to be seen, just her boys, Wilfred, Nathaniel, and Gideon, sat around a table of four, near the corner, the most isolated table in your room.

Oh. It was that kind of dinner, then.

She walked down to it, setting four glasses down.

“Cześć chłopaki,” she smiled, as cheerful as a waitress should be. Hello, boys. “Wasza mama dziś nie wpadła?”

No ma today?

They were Polish. Well, Betty was Polish and French, but people didn’t know that. To them, she was pure Polish.

“Niestety, nie mogła dziś przyjść,” Nathaniel told her.

The brothers exchanged looks, and she followed their expressions with her eyes, and Gideon cleared his throat.

“Jesteśmy tu z innej przyczyny dziś wieczorem, Elżbieta,” he spoke, at last, looking right into her eyes, very firm. “Jestem pewien, że możemy na ciebie liczyć, że zachowasz dyskrecję?"

She stiffened up.

We are here for a different reason tonight, Elżbieta. I'm sure we can trust you to be discreet?

Very serious, then.

"Oczywiście," she agreed. “Czy życzą sobie Państwo zobaczyć menu, czy poczekają na swojego gościa?"

Of course. Would you like to see the Menu or wait for your guest?

“Wait,” Fred told her. “Thank you.”

She nodded, walking off.

It was one of those nights, then.

“Hey,” you walked to Nat. “Make sure no one bothers the Malick, will you know? Just keep them… isolated.”

She raised her eyebrows a bit, not too moved.

“It’s another night of many heads, I see,” she hummed, writing something down. “I’ll do my best with what I’m given.”

Betty nodded stiffly, her shoulders hurting a bit in tension.

Nights of many heads always made her anxious.

The man who walked into the room was very new, very tall and very strong. Betty had never seen him, ever – he was remarkable, too remarkable to be forgotten.

“That’s a tall glass of water,” she mumbled to Nat.

He looked around the room, and his eyes met hers for a brief moment, baby blue, like the clear sky of the prettiest of summer days. Was he... Norwegian? Austrian?

His hair was so pretty golden shade of blonde, long like a lion’s mane. His beard was darker, almost brown. Maybe German. Lots of German boys looked like that, although this one was much better looking than the ones she remembered.

In any other day, she would be happy to smile to him and try to get his name.

“I’ll go check on them,” she picked up a pair of menus.

“Good luck.”

Betty walked down to the table, glancing at the box of clean plates by the corner.

“Witam ponownie, i witam, panie. Jestem Betty, będę przyjmować dziś pańskie zamówienie,” she distributed the menus. “Czy mogę przynieść państwu jakieś napoje po daniach?"

The man looked at her with confusion, and Nathaniel cleared his throat.

“English, Betty,” he requested. “Our guest isn’t fluent in Polish.”

She looked back at the man, and he just nodded stiffly.

“I’m Betty, I’ll be taking your order today,” she repeated it. “Can I bring you some refreshments after the plates?”

But the man didn’t speak, Fred did.

“We’ll call you when we are ready to order,” he told her. “Thank you, Betty.”

She just confirmed quietly, taking four plates, forks and knives, and set everything down, leaving them be.

…

“it’s a Bad Idea, right?” was posted on my Patreon in September 2023. To have early access to it (and lots of other stories), consider subscribe to my page! It’s just $2 a month, and I know you won’t regret it!

…

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Bad Idea: @peaceloveancolor

[welldonebeca]

Someone captured the solar eclipse on an airplane

[welldonebeca]

it's a Bad Idea, right? (1)

Summary: The worst idea a waitress in Mama Stefka can have is to fall in love with a man in Hydra. They aren’t supposed to even talk! It doesn’t stop Betty, though. Warnings: Mafia AU. Secret identity au. Tension.

Masterlist

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 a month and I promise you won’t regret it.

“Mila,” Betty called out, washing her hands in the kitchen sink. “Did you cut the lemons last night?”

The restaurant was going to open in two minutes, it was Friday. They needed lemons for the tea.

Mila always did that, every time it was her turn to cut the lemons the night before, she would not do it and everyone would be left scrambling for brunch time.

“On it now,” she called out.

Betty rolled her eyes but didn’t complain.

As long as she did it…

Betty took her apron, wrapping it around her waist and looking around for her pen.

“Hey,” Elena walked into the kitchen, phone in hand. “Does anyone speak German?”

She looked around, and the other waitresses did the same.

Was Ruby in today?

“No one?” Mila insisted. “Really?”

Betty shrugged.

Mama Stefka was a blend  - a crock-pot if someone were to ask the girls -  of everything East Europe and more. It was founded by a Bulgarian family she didn’t know when, and it slowly grew into something more. By now, it had a little bit of everything from everywhere.

Betty. Well…  Elżbieta was Polish. She was the only one, but the team was full of girls from every little place possible.

Taty from Belarus, Anna and Elena from Moldova, Martina from Slovakia, Natalia from Russia…

“Wait, isn’t Nat coming today?” Betty realised. “She speaks German.”

Natalia was their hostess, she’d been in the restaurant for ten years or something when they were still a tiny thing with just Bulgarian food.

Everyone had gotten there before Betty, to be fair.

Debbie’s face lit up.

“Yes! When is she coming?”

But before anyone answered, the door opened, and Nat walked in, looking rushed and pink on the face.

“I’m sorry, I got stuck in traffic,” she apologised quickly, a bit breathless.

Debbie rushed to her, passing her a phone Betty didn’t even know she was holding.

“It’s on mute. They need someone who speaks German to serve them tonight.”

Natalia picked it up, pressing it to her ear.

"Hallo, hier ist Natalia vom Mama Stefka. Wie kann ich Ihnen behilflich sein?"

She walked off to the employees area, too stable on her huge heels.

"Natürlich können wir das arrangieren," she answered, very cheerful. "Sieben Uhr? Ja, fünf Personen."

Wanda walked past Betty, looking back at Nat and then at her again.

“Well, someone needs to learn German,” Wanda sighed.

“Not me,” Betty pocketed her stuff. “I already know languages enough and get paid the same thing as a waitress who only speaks one.”

She walked off to the dining room, joining Debbie as she put the chairs down into the right places, still barefoot.

English wasn’t constantly spoken in Mama Stefka. Most of the visitors were immigrants or children of immigrants. Everyone knew everyone in their community, it meant solace and community, even though not everyone was from the same country.

Well, that and their involvement with Hydra.

Okay, so no everyone who went to Mama Stefka was involved with Hydra, but they either knew someone from Hydra, was from Hydra, or was too clueless about Hydra to know their kid, sibling, parent or partner was in Hydra – or they just really liked their food, but those were very few people.

Betty, and all of the other waitress, pretended not to know.

It was better to be oblivious than to be in danger.

Half an hour later, the place was on its way to blooming, and her section already had a few tables full when Nat called for her in the kitchen.

“The Malicks are here,” she called out. “They’re asking to sit with you.”

Betty lit up. Oh, the Malicks were delightful!

When Betty had come to America, Mrs Malick had given her a room, so she wouldn’t have to pay for a hotel before school started, and always took her back during school breaks when her dorm was closed.

Studying in New York wasn’t for everyone.

It also didn’t guarantee a job, which was why she was at Mama Stefka. They always welcomed Eastern girls in need of work and money to keep a roof over their heads.

But when Betty walked out to the dining room, Mrs Malick was nowhere to be seen, just her boys, Wilfred, Nathaniel, and Gideon, sat around a table of four, near the corner, the most isolated table in your room.

Oh. It was that kind of dinner, then.

She walked down to it, setting four glasses down.

“Cześć chłopaki,” she smiled, as cheerful as a waitress should be. Hello, boys. “Wasza mama dziś nie wpadła?”

No ma today?

They were Polish. Well, Betty was Polish and French, but people didn’t know that. To them, she was pure Polish.

“Niestety, nie mogła dziś przyjść,” Nathaniel told her.

The brothers exchanged looks, and she followed their expressions with her eyes, and Gideon cleared his throat.

“Jesteśmy tu z innej przyczyny dziś wieczorem, Elżbieta,” he spoke, at last, looking right into her eyes, very firm. “Jestem pewien, że możemy na ciebie liczyć, że zachowasz dyskrecję?"

She stiffened up.

We are here for a different reason tonight, Elżbieta. I'm sure we can trust you to be discreet?

Very serious, then.

"Oczywiście," she agreed. “Czy życzą sobie Państwo zobaczyć menu, czy poczekają na swojego gościa?"

Of course. Would you like to see the Menu or wait for your guest?

“Wait,” Fred told her. “Thank you.”

She nodded, walking off.

It was one of those nights, then.

“Hey,” you walked to Nat. “Make sure no one bothers the Malick, will you know? Just keep them… isolated.”

She raised her eyebrows a bit, not too moved.

“It’s another night of many heads, I see,” she hummed, writing something down. “I’ll do my best with what I’m given.”

Betty nodded stiffly, her shoulders hurting a bit in tension.

Nights of many heads always made her anxious.

The man who walked into the room was very new, very tall and very strong. Betty had never seen him, ever – he was remarkable, too remarkable to be forgotten.

“That’s a tall glass of water,” she mumbled to Nat.

He looked around the room, and his eyes met hers for a brief moment, baby blue, like the clear sky of the prettiest of summer days. Was he... Norwegian? Austrian?

His hair was so pretty golden shade of blonde, long like a lion’s mane. His beard was darker, almost brown. Maybe German. Lots of German boys looked like that, although this one was much better looking than the ones she remembered.

In any other day, she would be happy to smile to him and try to get his name.

“I’ll go check on them,” she picked up a pair of menus.

“Good luck.”

Betty walked down to the table, glancing at the box of clean plates by the corner.

“Witam ponownie, i witam, panie. Jestem Betty, będę przyjmować dziś pańskie zamówienie,” she distributed the menus. “Czy mogę przynieść państwu jakieś napoje po daniach?"

The man looked at her with confusion, and Nathaniel cleared his throat.

“English, Betty,” he requested. “Our guest isn’t fluent in Polish.”

She looked back at the man, and he just nodded stiffly.

“I’m Betty, I’ll be taking your order today,” she repeated it. “Can I bring you some refreshments after the plates?”

But the man didn’t speak, Fred did.

“We’ll call you when we are ready to order,” he told her. “Thank you, Betty.”

She just confirmed quietly, taking four plates, forks and knives, and set everything down, leaving them be.

…

“it’s a Bad Idea, right?” was posted on my Patreon in September 2023. To have early access to it (and lots of other stories), consider subscribe to my page! It’s just $2 a month, and I know you won’t regret it!

…

Forever Tags: @emoryhemsworth​​ @amythyststorm33​​ @shaelyn102​​ @yknott81​​ ​​@maximofftrash​​ @kgbrenner​​ @thefridgeismybestie​​ @magpiegirl80​ @mogaruke​ @shadowhunter7​​ @musicalcoffeebean @megasimpleplan4ever​​ @05spn18​​ @malindacath​​ @kdcollinsauthor @random-fandom-fangirl2112​​ @widowsfics​ @frozenhuntress67​​ @averyrogers83 @notyourtypicalrose​​ @nerdypinupcrystal @giruvega

Marvel forever tags: @its-daydreamer23​​ @random-fandom-fangirl2112 @tayrae515​? @indecisiondecisions @afanofmanystuffs @patzammit @widowsfics @alexisshoto​​ @princess-evans-addict @dreams-of-feysand​​ ​@dragonqueen0606 @izbelross @isabelle-faith

Bad Idea: @peaceloveancolor

#steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader fanfiction #steve rogers x reader fanfic #steve rogers x reader fic #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers x oc fanfic #steve rogers x oc fanfiction #steve rogers x oc fic #natasha romanoff #welldonebeca's it's a bad idea

[welldonebeca]

Enjoy some bunny girl Eve! (@m-u-n-c-h-y made me do it)

[welldonebeca]

Still trying to build up my commissions properly but I need some quick cash

So if anyone wants a Sketch Bust, feel free to dm me!

[welldonebeca]

Jonsa forehead kiss will always be famous

[welldonebeca]

The Baby Jack Series

During a witch hunt, Jack accidentally turns into a little kid. The problem is that it wasn’t a spell. Sometimes he just wants his body to reflect the age he sometimes feels like. The thing is… the guys don’t know about that. Yet.

The Boy

Summary: During a witch hunt, Jack accidentally turns into a little kid. The problem is that it wasn’t a spell. Sometimes he just wants his body to reflect the age he sometimes feels like. The thing is… the guys don’t know about that. Yet. Characters: Jack, Dean. Sam, Castiel. Warnings: Age regression. Fluff. Angst. Canon. Minor Samstiel.

Chapter 1 (11th of April on Tumblr/AO3) Chapter 2 (18th of April on Tumblr/AO3) Chapter 3 (25th of April on Tumlbr/AO3) Chapter 4 (2nd of May on Tumblr/AO3)

The Girl

When he notices Claire misses being a child, Jack decides to gift her the opportunity of being little again.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 - on Patreon

The Flu

Summary: Claire gets sick. Jack tries to help and gets sick too, and something about Uncle-Daddy and Daddy-Papa clicks with the kids.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 - on Patreon.

#sam and dean #sam winchester #dean winchester #jack kline #castiel #castiel x sam #samstiel #jack & castiel #jack & sam #fluff #welldonebeca's baby jack series #baby jack #baby jack kline