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fooled-around-and-fell · 1 year

Text

Already Broken

Summary: Soldier Boy fools around with someone that's supposed to be insignificant. But he finds himself more drawn than he could ever be.

Genre: romance, angst

Characters: Soldier Boy x female reader

WARNING: cursing, violence, smoking, mentions of weed, depictions of sex, mentions of abuse, character death, minors dni -- It's Soldier Boy, he is the warning.

a/n: this man.. I can't.

Masterlist

It didn't matter who he was.

You didn't care, as long as he showed up with the money or weed he promised.

"So, what time you get off today, darlin'?"

Ben sat in the booth, having his lunch where he always does -- the diner you worked at. It was small, grimy, but a local favorite.

"Soon, in about half an hour." You replied. "What do you want?"

He smirked. "You know what I want. Keep the change, I'll see you later tonight."

You first met Ben when he was saving your boss, the diner owner, from being robbed. That's mostly why he always eats at the diner, his payment for saving your boss was a free meal each day (though he leaves tips anyway).

After having you serve him, Ben didn't want anybody else. He would only ask for you, and that sparked your deal with him. In reality, it was just an opportunity for blackmail.

He caught you smoking in the back alley one time, and after threatening to spill the beans to your boss, he decided to keep your little secret. In exchange of your services -- after hours.

He'd come, fuck you over, and leave money. You took offense at first, but at this point you didn't care. It was money that you needed, and he fucked you good.

By the time you reached your apartment, Ben was already inside waiting for you.

"There's my sweet." He sighed in relief before spreading his legs and smirking, "Strip."

Rolling your eyes, you took off your clothes, showing him your naked body underneath the waitress uniform you had to wear.

"Mm, no underwear under that short skirt? Baby, you should've told me earlier." Ben stood up, circling around you, his breath right next to your ear. "Would've taken you right then and there."

You gulped, feeling his cold uniform touching your bare skin.

You know the rest.

------

Sometimes you wonder if what you're doing with Soldier Boy is worth it. Yes, he's charming, he has that je ne sais quoi factor, and God was he handsome. The only problem was that he's ruthless, and calling him a 'bad guy' was an understatement.

"You're scared of me." He stated the obvious while lying naked on your bed. "Why?"

"Are you really asking why?" You snorted as you put on some clothes. "You could literally snap my head off at any moment you like. That fact isn't exactly comforting."

He smiled, "Aw, but I won't do that. I like you, you're fun to keep around."

"Very reassuring."

He had stuck the money on the fridge with a magnet, like he always does. It still makes you feel bad, makes you feel like a whore, but you needed the money -- at this point, you are a whore.

"What's on your mind?"

"Nothing."

He frowned, a smile of disbelief on his face. "Usually you'd already be smoking by now."

"I can't." You said, "My brother's coming to visit and he's staying. I need to look like I have my shit together."

"Brother? I didn't know you had a brother."

You raised a brow. "Cause I don't need to tell you. Anyway, you can't come over for the next week."

It was his turn to raise a brow. "What do you mean I can't?"

"I can't have my brother look at me like this -- with obvious sex bruises."

"Sounds like you're even more scared of your brother than me." He joked, but when he saw the look in your eyes he started to wonder.

"Oh, you are scared of him."

"He's my brother." You swallowed thickly, grabbing yourself a glass of water. "He's just strict."

Ben looked at you for a minute before deciding to let the topic go. "Well, whoever he is, I'm still coming over. He can't stop me from getting my daily dose of addiction."

He left a kiss on your neck before leaving your apartment. "I'll see you soon, baby doll."

-------

Yes, you're scared of your brother.

It sounds silly, but when you were kids he used to hit you -- playfully at first, but then it got more serious. He called you names that he would disguise as playful and harmless, and you believed all he said.

That's why as you're picking him up, you're nervous as hell.

"Took you long enough."

"Hi to you too." You sighed, "Come on, my apartment's just down the block."

He handed you his bag and walked ahead. "Keep up, dumbass."

"Why are you here, anyway?"

"What, I can't visit my little sister?" He said in a 'loving' tone. "My friends are gonna hang. I'll just be here for a few days."

Thank God. You thought to yourself.

Your brother, Kyle, immediately went to your fridge to find some food.

"Help yourself..." you muttered.

"What did you say?" He frowned.

"Nothing," You sighed, dropping his bag on the couch while you cleaned up some dishes.

Kyle leaned against the counter. "Damn straight. You're starting to disrespect me. I should check in on you more often."

"I'm an adult, Kyle." You protested, "You don't need to protect me."

Big air quotes on protect.

"You're still my little sister." He sighed, "I don't want anything to happen to you."

For a moment there you felt like Kyle's changed. Maybe he's different now. Maybe he's no longer the ass-

"What the fuck?" Kyle squinted at the bruise he could see under your shirt. "Is that a fucking hickey?"

You pulled your shirt. "No, um, it's-"

"It is!" He scoffed, "God, I'm out there working my ass off and you're here just whoring around town? Jesus Christ."

"I'm not-"

"Get a real job, Y/N. Oh wait, sorry, you already have one -- being the community slut."

It was rage that you were feeling. Your hands were sweating, your heart was beating too fast for its own good, and your hand was holding a glass.

You did what you always do, breathe in and out. Count to ten. Don't let him get to you--

"Who the fuck would want you now? Worthless. Since the moment you were born."

Until that last comment somehow triggered your arm to swing and hit his head. The glass in your hand shattered into pieces when it hit his head, and Kyle was now lying on the ground, unconscious.

You weren't sure what happened -- no, you know exactly what happened.

Your hands were shaking while you tried to balance yourself.

What did you do?

How- why- shit-

"Shit."

You heard a familiar voice at the entrance of your apartment.

"Ben.. I-"

"Don't move." He said, warning you about the glass that was everywhere. Ben moved closer to Kyle, checking his pulse, though he knew the chances were slim. There was a big piece of glass that went through his skull.

"Is.. Is he?"

Ben stood up and covered you away from Kyle. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

"Ben, is he- is my brother.. I didn't mean to, I.. I couldn't.." You struggled with your words, chest heaving in panic because you realize what you'd just done.

Ben checked your hands for any cuts, but luckily they were small. "Don't look at him. Look at me. You're okay, alright? You don't need to explain to me what happened."

"But I-"

"Shh, it's okay." Ben pulled you into a hug, making sure you face away from Kyle's body.

It wasn't like Ben to act like this, to put someone else before him. He had no intentions to protect you, but the moment he saw the fear in your eyes, it was like instinct.

"Listen to me, here's what's gonna happen."

-------

Things moved fast. One moment you were picking up your brother, and now his body is being carried away to the morgue. Ben did all the talking to the police.

His story?

You're his secret girlfriend who has an abusive brother. When he arrived at your apartment he saw your brother hitting you in ways unimaginable. He did the only thing he knew how to.

The story wasn't a lie, except for the last part.

Ben wanted to protect you, but you knew damn well you killed your own brother. The guilt, the shame -- it was eating you up. And Ben could see it.

Ben managed to convince the authorities that you're too much in shock to speak, and he brought you back with him to his place.

"Hey," He called out softly, rubbing your back. "How are you holding up?"

He couldn't believe he's actually being nice, for once.

You sat on his bed and looked at him. "You're being nice to me."

He chuckled. "You just went through something traumatic. It's gonna take a while for you to get through it."

You mouth went dry.

"I.. I killed my brother."

"You were defending yourself."

"Against what? His words?" You scoffed, "He was yelling at me.. he was being fucking condescending and I just.. I lost it."

Ben reached for a blunt he casually had nearby and passed it to you.

"He was abusing you. Maybe not physically, but it doesn't matter. He's been doing that to you your entire life." He said. "If you ask me, it's about time he learnt his lesson."

"He's dead, Ben. He didn't learn anything."

The blunt was gone fast.

Ben stayed with you for the entire day, even though sometimes you didn't know what to say. Ben didn't know what to say either, he just knew he couldn't leave you alone.

At one point, Ben carried you to his bathroom. He ran a bath, made sure it was warm, and sat behind you, washing your hair.

"Why are you being nice?"

"You just went through something, sweetheart. I'm trying to take care of you."

You looked down. "I know, but you didn't have to. You could've just left me, watch me get arrested.. but instead you lied for me. You took the blame. Wait, what's gonna happen to you? Aren't you going to get in trouble?"

He chuckled, "Sweetheart, I'm Soldier Boy. I can do anything I want."

You turned to face him. It was the first time you saw his expression so gentle, so kind.

Ben let you rest your head on his chest while he rubs your fingers, knowing well that you could still feel the glass breaking in your hands. He couldn't handle you looking at him like that, it made him feel things.

"You know, I was alone when I got here." He started. "Everything was dark, I couldn't find my way. And then I met you, and.. I don't know, things just started falling into place."

"I didn't do anything though."

"That's the crazy part." He smiled, "You were just there. Whether I needed you or not, you're always there. Even if you only did it for the money, or the drugs, I don't care."

Ben didn't want to add any more to your plate. You've had quite the day. So he just held you and massaged your sore shoulders.

"Just stay and let me be here, alright? We'll figure out everything else tomorrow."

"..Alright."

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zepskies · 1 year

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Series Masterlist - Break Me Down

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

AN: For those of you who enjoyed “Checkerboard,” here’s the requested prequel series! It’s gonna be a long road to get to that version of Soldier Boy. Technically this is an AU set post-season 3.

Series Tags/Warnings: **Rated M. (18+ only.) Enemies to frenemies to lovers. Angsty, messy, moral quandaries galore. This is a romance, but it’s a dark world with morally gray and dark characters, including Soldier Boy, of course. **Smut, language, misogyny, violence, and other chapter-specific tags.

🎵 Listen While You Read: The BMD Playlist

Chapters:

Prologue

Part 1 - The Game Begins

Part 2 - You Move Me, Baby

Part 3 - Somewhere Down Below

Part 4 - On the Inside Out

Part 5 - Morning, Night & Day

Part 6 - A Hot Meal

Part 7 - Until Midnight

Part 8 - Something in the Way

Part 9 - Breach

Part 10 - Caught in the Balance

Part 11 - The Lion's Den

Part 12 - All Your Wicked Ways

Part 13 - A Generous Deal

Part 14 - Safe House

Part 15 - The Tower

Part 16 - Soldier Boy

Part 17 - More Than Words Can Say

Epilogue - All My Living Time

Series Complete!

Did you like this series? If you'd like to keep supporting me as I continue the BMD-verse, here's a way to keep me caffeinated:

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Read More In the BMD-Verse

Not done reading this version of Soldier Boy x Reader? Well, there's more to their story.

(**Notes 18+ only and/or smut)

One-Shots:

In the Dark You and Ben have tackled the insurmountable together, but no one said the recovery would be easy.

Checkerboard** You’re not a supe. You’re breakable. Soldier Boy sometimes forgets that.

Love Actually** Ben gets in late on Christmas Eve with a Grinch-like attitude, but you’re determined to force some holiday cheer into his system.

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 - Complete

Wake Me Up** [MINI SERIES] - COMING MAY 5/03! A few weeks after you and Ben celebrate your first Christmas together, he is returning from another mission with the Supe Affairs team. When he discovers that you’ve been taken, he’ll do whatever it takes to find you. And then, to help you heal.

Strong As Blood** After you accidentally break through a solid wood table, you know there’s something wrong with you. You begin to have your suspicions, but can you keep it from Ben long enough to find out?

(In other words: This is the story of how you and Ben discover that you’re pregnant.)

Part 1 || Part 2 - Complete

Until Morning A quiet moment between you, Ben, and your newborn daughter.

Green** Ben spends the day alone with his daughter, to varying degrees of success. When you get home, it prompts a serious conversation.

Calculated Risks 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.

Imagines:

Getting jealous.** 💚 Ben needs new clothes, but the shop girls think your boyfriend is fair game.

Ben’s reaction to his girlfriend on her period.❣️ How he takes care of you.

Ben loses you. 💔 Includes a “twist” ending…

Talk to Me 💞 In the wake of his vivid nightmare, you confront Ben about his fears and get him to open up. [Sequel to “Ben loses you.”]

Moodboard below created by @chernayawidow:

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#soldier boy #the boys #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #the boys season 3 #the boys amazon #private investigator!reader #checkerboard prequel #dark romance #break me down #break me down masterlist #jensen ackles #jensen ackles characters #soldier boy fanfiction #the boy au #enemies to lovers #romance #zepskies writes

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cheynovak · 12 days

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A Soldier's Future

Soldier boy x F/Reader

Warnings: none I guess , maybe a little spicy romance at the end.

Side note: English isn’t my first language

*Does not follow the boys timeline*

Y/N is a museum clerk at the old Vought Museum on the edge of town. The only and old exhibition about Soldier Boy. One night she met the man himself. After a night out she invited him to her house.

Surprised and confused when he turned out quite different then she thought. Very well-mannered and nice. Or is it all a facade?

The next morning

Y/N groaned as she slowly blinked her eyes open, wincing at the sharp pang in her head. The sunlight streaming through the window felt like a thousand daggers stabbing into her skull. With a sigh, she pushed herself into a sitting position, her bleary eyes taking in the familiar surroundings of her room.

As she struggled to piece together the events of the previous night, a vague memory of the night crawled back in her mind. After the failure of the dinner date Soldier boy had saved her from those jerks.

She had offered him another drink at home. a vague memory how they talked and laughed on the couch. And then she remembered the kiss when he went home. A soft smile appeared on her face.

Just as she was about to dismiss it all as a hazy blur and walk to the open kitchen her gaze landed on the figure slouched on her couch, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the morning light. It took her a moment to register the sight before her, her heart skipping a beat as recognition flooded her senses.

Ben.

She watched him sleep, unable to keep her eyes of his naked chest, her heart fluttering with a mixture of disbelief and joy. Had last night really happened? Or was it all just a beautiful dream?

But then Ben stirred, his eyelids fluttering open to reveal those mesmerizing green eyes, and Y/N knew that it was all too real. With a shy smile, she greeted him, her voice barely above a whisper. "Good morning," she said softly.

"Good morning," he murmured, his eyes soft with concern as he took in her dishevelled appearance. "How's your head?" Y/N managed a weak smile, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment at the memory of her hangover. "Not great," she admitted, her voice hoarse from sleep. "But I'll survive."

But as Ben's gaze lingered on her, a strange tension filled the air between them, leaving Y/N feeling uneasy and unsure. Had she misread the situation? Was last night just a mistake? What was on his mind.

Before she could voice her concerns, Ben was already on his feet, his movements stiff and awkward as he made his way to the door. “I really have to eh... go.” He said not looking at her. “Oh... ok.”

"Thanks for... taking me home," she called out, her voice wavering with uncertainty. But Ben just nodded, his expression unreadable as he mumbled a quick goodbye before disappearing out the door. And as Y/N was left alone in the quiet of her living room.

A sinking feeling settling in the pit of her stomach. She couldn't shake the sense of unease that had settled over her like a dark cloud, leaving her feeling vulnerable and exposed.

Had she said something wrong? Done something to push him away? The questions swirled in her mind, each one more agonizing than the last. She had let herself believe, if only for a moment, that last night had meant something to him.

But now, as she sat alone in her living room, she couldn't help but wonder if she had been mistaken all along.

Meanwhile, Ben walked the streets with a heavy heart, his thoughts consumed by doubts and fears. He had never felt this way before, not with anyone. Y/N had changed him, turned his world upside down in the span of a single night. And now, as he grappled with the unfamiliar weight of his emotions, he couldn't help but wonder if he had made a mistake.

He had always been a ladies' man, a Casanova, a player, living on the edge. But with Y/N, everything felt different. She had seen through his facade, seen the real him beneath the charming exterior. And now, as he walked the streets alone, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had let her down, that he had failed to live up to the person she believed him to be.

He had already stood her up, left her waiting alone while he dealt with his own demons. Afraid to tell her the truth, he had visited his ex-girlfriend, Crimson Counter mere hours before their date. And when he exploded, he had no idea of time and space for a moment.

After the black out he remembered Y/N, rushing to the museum hoping she would still be there. She had told him to deal with the past was to confront the ghosts of the past. But he was pretty sure she didn’t mean killing your old team.

So instead of facing his fear, telling he honestly what he did, he ran. Like a scared coward.

As Ben stepped into the dimly lit motel room, the tension in the air was palpable. Butcher's eyes narrowed as he glared at Ben, his expression a mixture of anger and frustration.

"Where the fuck have you been?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous. Ben ignored him. "We had a job to do," he growled, his voice thick with anger. "And you went off the grid." Still no answer.

“Oi!” he pushed his shoulder. “I don’t own you any explanation!” he bit back. Making Butcher lift his hands in the air and take a step back. And as Butcher turned away, his attention already focused on the task at hand, Ben knew that he had a long road ahead of him.

First things first, killing payback, killing Homelander. Maybe, just maybe, then he could face Y/N again. Little did he know his future may change very quickly learning Homelander being his son.

After the fight at the Vought tower.

As Ben stumbled through the darkness, his heart heavy with the weight of his revelations, he knew that he was running out of options. The truth of his identity as Homelander's father had shaken him to his core, leaving him reeling with a sense of betrayal and confusion.

But as he reached Y/N's door, his hands trembling with fear and uncertainty, he knew that he had no choice but to seek refuge in her arms. She was the only one he trusted, the only one who had ever truly seen him for who he was.

With a shaky breath, Ben knocked on the door, his knuckles white with tension as he waited for her to answer. And when she finally opened the door, her eyes widened in shock at the sight before her.

"Ben?" she gasped, her voice filled with concern as she took in his bloodied appearance.

He could barely find the words to speak, his throat constricted with emotion as he tried to explain. "I... I need your help," he managed to choke out, his voice hoarse with exhaustion.

Y/N's eyes softened with compassion as she took in his battered form, her heart breaking at the sight of him in pain. Without hesitation, she pulled him into the safety of her apartment, closing the door behind them with a sense of finality.

As Ben collapsed onto the couch, his body trembling with exhaustion, Y/N set to work tending to his wounds. With gentle hands, she cleaned the blood from his skin.

Using a damp cloth, she gently wiped away the blood that stained his skin, her movements slow and deliberate as she worked to remove any traces of dirt or debris.

With each swipe of the cloth, she could see the tension in his muscles begin to ease, his breathing growing steadier as the pain began to recede. Once his wounds were clean, Y/N turned her attention to the task of stitching him up.

Her hands steady as she worked to close the jagged gashes that marred his skin.

And as she worked, she couldn't help but wonder what had brought him to her doorstep in the middle of the night, covered in blood and looking like he fought for his life.

And as she finally finished her work, she looked into Ben's sleepy eyes, with a sense of pride and satisfaction, knowing that she had done everything in her power to help him heal.

With a soft sigh, she leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, “ You should get some sleep. Take my bed.” He refused and lay down on the couch instead.

The next morning Ben woke by the smell of toast. Realising Y/N was preparing a breakfast for him, her smile worried. "Ben," she said softly, her eyes searching his for answers. "What happened last night? You came to me covered in blood, and I need to know that you're okay."

Ben's heart clenched at the concern in her voice, the love and warmth that shone in her eyes. And in that moment, he knew that he couldn't hide the truth from her any longer.

With a worried heart he told her about what he did to crimson countess, how he met Butcher and that he tried to kill Homelander his son. That the boys turned on him and ambushed him.

As he spoke, Y/N listened in stunned silence, her eyes wide with disbelief and fear. He could see the tension in her body, the way she instinctively drew away from him, as if afraid that the danger he spoke of might somehow touch her too.

Feeling the distance grow between them, Ben's heart clenched with a pang of regret. He hadn't meant to scare her, hadn't wanted to burden her with the darkness of his world. But he knew that he couldn't keep her in the dark any longer, couldn't pretend that everything was okay when it wasn't.

Y/N got up turning her back to him, staring out the window. Y/N met his gaze, her eyes brimming with uncertainty and fear. "I... I don't know what to think," she admitted, her voice trembling with emotion.

In the reflection of the window, she saw Ben's figure approach behind her, his presence looming large in the small space. His hand came to rest gently on her shoulder, and despite herself, she flinched at the unexpected touch.

Ben's touch was warm against her skin, a stark contrast to the chill that had settled in her bones. She could feel the tension in his body, the weight of his own uncertainty pressing against her back.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of her racing heart. "I didn't mean to scare you." He didn’t let go of her. “I need you to trust me, Y/N. I need you to believe that I would never do anything to hurt you."

Y/N closed her eyes, the weight of his words washing over her like a tidal wave. She wanted to believe him, wanted to trust that he would never hurt her. But the fear lingered, a constant presence in the back of her mind, whispering doubts and insecurities into the silence.

Y/N turned slowly to face Ben, her eyes meeting his. In the depths of his gaze, she saw a flicker of uncertainty. But as she looked into his eyes, she couldn't shake the nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach.

These were the eyes of a killer, eyes that had seen things she couldn't even begin to imagine. And despite the warmth of his touch, the gentleness in his voice, she couldn't help but feel a shiver of fear run down her spine.

“What do you need from me?” she asks, he could hear the fear in her voice. "I need you to trust me," he said softly, his voice tinged with vulnerability. "I need you to believe that I'm not the person I once was, that I'm trying to be better, for you."

Y/N's eyes searched his face. Ben reached out and took her hand in his, his touch warm against her skin. She looked at their hands connected. And as she looked back into Ben's eyes, the eyes of a killer, she knew that she had already made her decision. She would stand by him, no matter what.

Y/N's heart raced as Ben leaned in, his lips drawing closer to hers.

She hesitated for a moment, her instincts urging her to pull away. But as she felt his lips brush against hers, a spark ignited within her.

His kiss was like a wildfire, consuming her in its passionate embrace and leaving her breathless in its wake. With each tender caress of his lips, she felt herself surrendering to the intensity of their connection, losing herself in the heat of the moment.

Her senses were overwhelmed by the heady aroma of desire that filled the air, the scent of his cologne mingling with the warmth of his skin. And as she leaned into his touch, her hands trembling with anticipation.

As Ben's kiss grew more urgent, more demanding, a wave of uncertainty washed over Y/N, causing her to instinctively pull back. The sudden shift in intensity caught her off guard, leaving her breathless and disoriented as she struggled to make sense of the turmoil raging within her.

His touch, once so tender and gentle, now felt rough and desperate, sending a shiver of apprehension down her spine. She could feel the heat of his passion burning against her skin.

As she pulled away, a flicker of doubt crossed Ben's features, his eyes searching hers for any sign of hesitation. And in that moment, Y/N knew that she couldn't ignore the nagging doubts that lingered within her.

"Ben," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she struggled to find the words to express her inner turmoil. "I... I need a moment." Ben's irritation flared, her words ringing hollow in his ears.

He had bared his soul to her, had laid his heart on the line in a desperate bid for understanding and acceptance. And yet, despite her assurances of love and support, she still pushed him away when he needed her most.

As Ben glanced at Y/N, seated on the opposite side of the couch, he felt a pang of regret wash over him. The warmth that had once filled the room seemed to have dissipated, replaced by an icy chill that hung heavy in the air between them. He could see the fear etched in the lines of her face, the uncertainty that lingered in her eyes.

For a moment, he wondered if he had made a mistake in telling her about Crimson, if he had been too quick to share the darkest parts of his past without considering the consequences.

He had hoped that honesty would bring them closer together, would strengthen the bond between them. But now, as he watched her retreat into herself, he couldn't help but wonder if he had only succeeded in driving her further away.

He longed to reach out to her, to bridge the divide that had sprung up between them with a single touch. But something held him back, a voice of doubt that whispered warnings in the back of his mind. He had already pushed her too far already.

As Ben returned to the couch with a bottle of wine and a whiskey, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of nostalgia wash over him. The memories of their first night together lingered in the air, a bittersweet reminder of the passion and desire that had once burned between them.

Setting the bottles down on the coffee table, he poured them each a glass, the rich aroma of the whiskey mingling with the sweet scent of the wine. He glanced at Y/N, still seated on the opposite side of the couch, her eyes downcast as she stared into her lap.

"Here," he said softly, offering her a glass. "I thought maybe... a drink might help."

Y/N glanced up at him, her eyes meeting his for the briefest of moments before flickering away again. She reached out and accepted the glass, her fingers trembling slightly as she took a sip.

"Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

As the flickering images on the TV screen faded to black, Ben turned his attention to Y/N, hoping to break through the tension that had settled between them. He cleared his throat, searching for the right words to say, anything to ease her troubled thoughts.

"So... how was your day?" he asked, his voice gentle as he attempted to steer the conversation toward safer shores. Y/N glanced up at him, her expression softening slightly as she met his gaze. "It was... okay," she replied hesitantly, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

“I found a, eh, new job.” "Tell me about it," Ben pressed on, eager to keep the conversation flowing. She followed him and slowly but surely, he could feel the tension begin to ease.

After a glass of two the conversation was once again filled with laughter.

The warmth of her laughter, the sparkle in her eyes—everything about her seemed to light up the room, filling him with a sense of longing he couldn't ignore.

"So, Y/N," he began, his voice taking on a playful tone as he leaned in closer to her. "I've been meaning to ask... do you believe in fate?" Y/N raised an eyebrow, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Fate?" she echoed, her tone teasing. "Why do you ask?"

Ben shrugged, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Well, it's just that... I can't help but feel like maybe, just maybe, we were meant to meet," he said, his voice low and husky as he locked eyes with her.

Y/N's laughter filled the room at Ben's attempt at a smooth line, her eyes dancing with amusement as she teased him. "Oh, come on, Ben," she chuckled, shaking her head. "Do you really expect me to fall for that old 'fate brought us together' routine? That's like, Cheesy Pick-Up Lines 101."

Ben grinned, unable to suppress a laugh at her playful jab. "Hey, I'll have you know that was a classic move," he retorted, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "But if you think you can do better, I'm all ears."

And with that, the game was on. They traded cheesy pick-up lines back and forth, each one more ridiculous than the last. From cheesy puns to over-the-top compliments, they spared no expense in their quest to one-up each other.

As Y/N rose to refill their glasses, Ben couldn't resist the urge to follow her, his steps closing the distance between them until he was standing just inches away. With a gentle touch, he guided her into his embrace, his arms wrapping around her waist as he pulled her close.

"Hey," he murmured, his voice low and intimate as he looked down at her, a playful glint in his eyes. "You know, they say that eyes are the windows to the soul... but I think yours are more like a doorway to heaven."

Y/N's cheeks flushed a rosy pink at his words, her breath catching in her throat as she met his gaze. The intensity of his stare sent a shiver down her spine, stirring something deep within her that she couldn't quite name.

"Ben," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath as she searched for the right words to respond. "That's... that's really sweet."

Ben smiled, a warm, genuine expression that reached all the way to his eyes. "Just speaking the truth," he said softly, his fingers tracing a gentle path along her cheek. "Your eyes, your lips... they're the most beautiful things I've ever seen."

As Ben gazed into Y/N's eyes, he felt a magnetic pull drawing him closer to her. His heart raced with anticipation as he traced the delicate curve of her lips with his eyes, lingering on the soft, inviting curve before meeting her gaze once more.

He takes the drinks out of her hands and pulled her closer to him.

The warmth of her body pressed against his, the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. He knew that he couldn't rush this, couldn't force her into something she wasn't ready for.

So instead, he leaned in slowly, his movements deliberate as he closed the gap between them with agonizing slowness. His lips brushed against hers with feather-light caresses, testing the waters, seeking permission without words.

And then, finally, he felt her respond, her lips parting ever so slightly beneath his own as she melted into his embrace.

as their kiss deepened, he heard a soft sound escape from Y/N's lips—a delicate, breathy moan that sent a shiver down his spine. It was a sound of pure pleasure, a silent invitation to explore further, to delve deeper into the depths of their shared desire.

For a moment, Ben hesitated, unsure if he had heard correctly. But then, as Y/N's moans grew louder, more insistent, he knew that there was no mistaking the arousal that burned within her.

Encouraged by her response, he deepened the kiss, his lips moving hungrily against hers as he sought to elicit even more delicious sounds from her. His lips traced a path along the curve of her jawline, down the slender column of her neck, relishing in the way her breath hitched with each teasing touch.

And as he felt her body respond to his ministrations, her moans growing louder and more urgent. As Ben's lips found their way back to Y/N's, he felt a surge of desire coursing through him, urging him to explore every inch of her with a newfound hunger. His tongue danced eagerly with hers, twirling and entwining in a passionate embrace that left them both breathless.

As Ben felt himself being overwhelmed by the intensity of Y/N's moans, he reluctantly pulled back, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he tried to regain control of his emotions.

"Y/N," he murmured, his voice husky with desire, "I... I need you to stop. I don't know if I can... if I can control myself if we keep going like this." But before he could finish his sentence, Y/N reached out and pulled him back in, her lips crashing against his with a fierce urgency that took his breath away. "I don't care," she whispered, her voice hoarse with desire. "I don't care where this ends.”

With a strength born of desire and determination, Ben effortlessly lifted Y/N into his arms, carrying her to the couch where he gently laid her down. As she gazed up at him with wide eyes filled with longing, he lowered himself on top of her, their bodies fitting together as if they were made for each other.

His hands roamed over her body, tracing the curves and contours with a reverence that spoke of his adoration. Every touch sent shivers of pleasure coursing through her, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment.

As Ben's lips caressed Y/N's body with a tenderness that belied the intensity of his desire, he couldn't help but feel a sense of awe wash over him. With each whispered confession of desire, he felt himself opening up in ways he had never thought possible.

"You drive me crazy, Y/N," he murmured, his voice husky with emotion. "But in the best possible way. You've changed me, made me see things differently. You've... you've made me better."

"Ben... You are not a bad guy."

And as she spoke, his lips trailed a path of fire along her skin, leaving a trail of longing and need in their wake. He lost himself in the taste and scent of her, revelling in the way she responded to his touch, her breath hitching with each caress.

As Ben continued to explore Y/N's body with his lips and hands, he couldn't shake the overwhelming sense of connection he felt with her. With each tender touch, each whispered confession, he felt himself unravelling, laying bare his soul for her to see.

"You see right through me," he murmured against her skin, his voice thick with emotion. "From the moment you looked at me, I knew you saw me for who I truly am. And I... I've never felt more alive than when I'm with you."

"You found me when I had no idea who I was."

As Y/N's hands ventured underneath his shirt, moving over his heart to his shoulder.

A thrill of anticipation shot through Ben, his skin tingling at her touch. With a gentle caress, she pulled his shirt off, exposing his chest to the warm glow of the room.

"Fuck! You have no idea what you do to me, Y/N," he murmured against her skin, his voice thick with desire. "The way you look at me, the way you touch me... it drives me wild."

Feeling her hands exploring his bare skin sent a shiver of desire coursing through him, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment. He leaned in closer, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he whispered, "Are you sure you're ready for this, Y/N?”

He locked eyes with her, “I'm not... I'm not a soft lover. I can be... intense, to say the least." He didn't want to hurt her, but he couldn't deny the raw hunger that burned within him, urging him to claim her as his own.

Y/N met his gaze with a fierce determination, a little giggle, her eyes filled with a longing that mirrored his own. "I'm ok with that," she whispered, her voice husky with desire. "I want this."

“Are you absolutely sure, because I won’t leave you anymore if we do this. I don’t think I can.” As she caressed his shoulders she looks up at his green eyes. “Ben. I want you... all of you. The good and the bad. ”

And with those words, all hesitation melted away as Ben surrendered himself to her.

Finally finding the love and peace he searched for all these decades.

I know, I know a very cheesy ending, but deep down we know Ben is a softy, right... right?

Let me know what you think, feel free to like, share or comment. Make sure you check out my masterlist.

Taglist: @yvonneeeee @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @deans-spinster-witch

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obessivedork · 3 months

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It's just how gameplay shook out for me but I reached max affinity with MacCready helping a ghoul kid find out what happened to his family and MAN sometimes things that work out so perfect that you WISH you'd wrote it or done it on purpose 😭🖤 Two very sad Dads doing the best for their sons helping ANOTHER lost kid find home because they can't be with their own kids right now but they can help Billy, dammit!

#fallout #fallout 4 #fo4 #kat plays fo4 #Also oh my GOD Mac's lines with a successful flirt are sooooo 😭😭😭😭🖤🖤🖤🖤 THE LITTLE SOLDIER TOO OH MAN 😭🖤#That's my BOY <3 <3!!!!#Two very sad Dads bonding over their iced wives and love for their sons. Also they're uncles for Billy now IDC how things shake out #(and I don't know how things end yet either)#I literally had to exit the game and pace around after Mac's soft ass romance lines MY BOY 😭#Anyways Uncle Sam and Uncle Butch are looking after Duncan I LOVE the HC that the Lone Wanderer looks after Duncan #And while Mac went back to give Duncan the medicine Michael did a bunch of stuff building up settlements n stuff #And got to the bottom of whatever the hell is going on with Eddie Winter #it didn't happen in game but it happened in cannon. TO ME.#anyways back to playing but I NEEDED to IMMEDIATELY pace around the house after hearing Mac's lines in addition to BILLY #There should be more kid ghouls in Fallout cannon what a TRAGIC thing to be. Frozen at 10(ish) years old forever. MAN. poor kid.#(yes I did have Mac's story spoiled for me but like. it's fine I'm fine I'm not someone who SUPER cares about spoilers)#I would say I'm gnawing on the bars of my enclosure about this but I'm actually physically tearing them apart about this #AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH #anyways this has been a babble

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burymeinblack2022 · 2 years

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OMG WAIT... HAVE Y'ALL SEEN THESE... I'M MELTING WHAT A SWEET LITTLE LADY 😭😭 *gives him a kith gives him a kith gives him a kith*

Credit

#Wahhhh #I'm just AUGH. he's my little sweetie my sweet cheese my pal my rotten soldier my good time boy etc..#mcr #Gerard Way #Mcr return #Return era #Mcrfirefly #My Chemical Romance #My chem

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loki-lover84 · 2 years

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Chapter 1 Episode 3 Part I

A/n: I figured it’d be nicer/ easier to read if I split up the episodes if you disagree let me know, I will try to update everyday depending on how much progress I make but yeah. I apologise it will be a little slow but I did skip the first 2 episodes to try to get straight to the Soldier Boy x Reader aspect I hope ya’ll enjoy.

“Butcher’s got it.” Maeve says striding into her apartment in Vought in her ‘disguise’.

To me she looks like a journalist, well if it works for the comic book hero’s then why can’t it work for her. Clearly it does to some extent, barely anyone bothers her I don’t see how though, her face is fully exposed. Whom I to judge though, I still look like I’m in my late twenties despite nearly being seventy and not a single person recognises me, that could be due to Vought’s cover up though.

“Y/n? Did you hear me?” Maeve asks sitting next to me on her sofa.

“Yeah…sorry. Is there anything else I can do to help?” I ask fully aware that Maeve’s not afraid to ask me for help.

“About that, I was wondering if you’d be able to keep an eye on Butcher. Make sure he doesn’t fuck this lead up too?” She asks standing up to go and get changed into her Queen Maeve attire behind the divider.

“Yeah, no problem.” I can’t help the grin on my face, I’ve never been so close to getting my Ben back.

“I understand it’s a lot to ask and knowing Butcher and his crew it’s probably going to be unnecessarily reckless and dangerous and-” Maeve continues seemingly not hearing my response.

“I said yes, Maeve. I can handle myself so don’t worry about it.” I laugh standing up organising and rescheduling Maeve’s rota for the day.

She emerges from her divider smiling at me before grabbing her sword as I hand her the tablet with schedule and she tells me where I can find Butcher and his crew.

Maeve gives me a hug wishing me luck before I leave her apartment letting her focus on her pre-training ‘workout’. I collide straight into someone, I look at the petite blonde realising who it is.

“Sorry Starlight didn’t see you there.” She smiles at me waving a dismissive hand.

“It’s alright. Is Maeve in there?”

“Yeah, she’s keeping up her training.” I step away from the door and make my way to the lift.

Unfortunately the lift stops one floor down and Homelander strides in standing up straight with his hands clasped behind his back, his usual stern/ pissed off expression on his face. His dull blue eyes land on me looking most unimpressed.

“Y/n, you’re leaving early aren’t you?” He says eyeing my suspiciously.

“Today’s easy, Maeve only has five things on her schedule today and three of them require her to stay in this building. We mutually decided she can take care of herself she is a big strong girl after all. She has to be, working in ‘The Seven’ with you.”

“You forget your place!” He sneers towering over me in efforts to make me cower.

“I know my place. Do you?” I say exiting the elevator before then leaving the lobby and heading to the address Maeve gave me.

Well here I am, the Flatiron Building. I still vaguely remember when it was the Fuller Building. Looking up I can’t help but think this is the most normal looking building these guys have probably ever had as a hideout well it beats an eerie basement at least.

“Ugh. Of course they’re on the top floor with an out of order lift. Oh well…I could use the cardio.” I groan after walking up the first two flights of stairs.

Okay I’m here. You’ve got this introduce myself as…FUCK I’m not sure what’ll sound good. Hi I’m Maeve’s PA and have a lot of knowledge on Soldier Boy, a lot of knowledge surrounding Soldier Boy’s death? I should have spent my time more wisely.

“Who are you?” I turn around and see Hughie stood behind me looking slightly bewildered.

“Hi Hughie.” I say watching as he instantly recognises me.

“Sorry, Y/n. I wasn’t expecting- why are you here?”

“Maeve thought I could help you guys out with finding the weapon that killed Soldier Boy.” That sounded okay right? Yeah that’ll do.

“Oh, as far as I’m concerned feel free to join us but, good luck convincing Butcher.” He says holding the door open for me.

“What the fuck is she doing here?” Butcher seethes his eyes landing on me before I’ve even stepped in the room.

“I’m here to help.” I say walking in as Hughie follows behind.

“Why the fuck do you think you’ll be useful, you’re just another supes bitch.” Oh he’s really trying isn’t he, well I take that back this is him relatively calm.

“You certainly live up to your reputation.” I say walking straight up to him not breaking eye contact. “Without me, you wouldn’t have got your Soldier Boy lead.”

“Bullshit!”

“Who do you think suggested it to Maeve? Me. Who got the file? Me. Who got your- well you know what I got you.” I argue lowering my voice for the last bit.

Butcher’s hazel eyes burn my e/c ones, as I hold his glare right back refusing to back down to the likes of him. Eventually he sighs throwing his hands up and pacing away.

“Fine. The moment you step one fucking toe out of line though, you’re finished!”

“Good luck with that.” I sass back sitting myself on a nearby desk.

I see Hughie and MM exchange glances fighting the urge to chuckle. I notice their eyes widening for a moment before MM announces.

“The prodigal son returns!” Arms outstretched as he gives Hughie a bro hug.

“What the fuck? Hey man. W-wa-wait a minute are you back?” They both laugh as they pull apart.

Clearly I’ve missed something if they’re having a reunion.

“We’ll see.”

“Don’t get me wrong I’m happy but…are you sure?” Hughie asks.

Yep I’ve definitely intruded during a reunion.

“The fuck happened here kid, you jacking off with razors again?”MM asks as I watch him take Hughie’s bandaged up hand a little shocked that I didn’t notice it earlier.

“I mean you should see the other guy, the other guy’s my penis.” MM chuckles and I can’t resist the urge to either.

“I missed you kid.” He says patting Hughie’s shoulder.

“I missed you too.”

I’m definitely sensing a bromance alert. I smile at them whilst dangling my legs. I definitely look like a fucking child. The air grows solemn for a moment as Butcher approaches Hughie.

“Look I know what you’re gonna say and I just-”

“No, no mate. I’m just chuffed to have the boys under the same roof. Alright?” Butcher interrupts.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean there he was right in his fancy pants, lording it over us like the viceroy of Vought square, eh? And that whole time he weren’t nothing but a Supe’s bootlick, eh? ” Butcher finishes.

And I thought there was drama at Vought, at least I only just got here for the aftermath.

“Yeah.” Hughie sighs.

“That my son is a lifetime achievement at the Cunt of the Year Awards, isn’t it?” Well at least the reality lives up to the expectation.

“Yeah, it is. It is a lifetime achievement.” Hughie agrees making Butcher give a deep chuckle.

“Are you done?” I ask rolling my eyes, I don’t know Hughie that well but I know how frustrating it can be to be reminded of your mistakes.

“I am just getting started, believe you me. If I were you god forbid, I’d stay fucking quiet around here.” I throw my hand up in mock surrender as Butcher sips his coffee.

“Great, listen we need to get Ryan somewhere safe. Vicky knows where he is, because we fucking told her, which means Stan Edgar knows too.”

“So ya’ll know she’s the head popper?” I can’t help but ask, fully aware that only a maximum of five people (until now) knew she was even a supe.

“Yeah. I only know because I witnessed her do it one night, did a bit of research at the orphanage too.” Hughie replies.

Clearly it’s easy to find out about anyone now, I just hope my records are as deep as Vought claimed they buried them.

“Yeah one step ahead, Colonel’s already done a runner with the boy.” Butcher says getting back on track. “They’re well out of sight. In fact, we’re gonna pay them a little visit.” Butcher says eyeing me suspiciously, as if to say he doesn’t want me to join them.

“We are?” MM asks.

“So you’ve spoken to Crimson Cuntess and Gunpowder, I take it?” I earn a grunt from Butcher confirming my question and a small smirk approving my nickname for CC just as Frenchie’s phone buzzes.

“Uh, Monsieur Charcutier, uh, I cannot go. I have a matter of great importance.” Frenchie says his eyes barely leaving his phone screen as he backs out of the make shift circle that formed without my notice.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I must’ve forgot to run it by your bleeding secretary.” Butcher mocks eyes growing hard.

“It’s an emergency.” Frenchie insists.

“I-I’ll go instead.” Hughie chimes trying to reach a middle ground.

“Nah, you skive off today, and that congresswoman might split your pretty little buns.” Butcher observes also sitting on a desk.

“Yeah, thought of that.” Hughie says as he walks over to Kimiko. “Uh, Kimiko. Kimiko? Hi.” She removes her headphones and looks up at him. “Uh, can you please…uh, break my arm?”

I nearly laugh at his request but seeing how much he’s fidgeting and the look in his nervous blue eyes I can tell he’s sincere.

“Vicky will smell it if I fake being sick, so it’s got to be real, and it’s got to last for days.” Hughie adds I think more trying to convince himself than anyone else.

“Fucking hell, Hughie.” Butcher laughs his eyes widening in genuine amusement.

“At least take something for the pain. I got opium.” Frenchie says passing Hughie the drugs.

“Government employees can’t fail a piss test.” Hughie insists passing them back, “Let’s just get this over with, okay? Just do it pretty fast.”

“I doubt they’ll make you do a piss test for a broken arm.” I say finally chiming in again, only to be ignored.

Kimiko grabs his arm ready to do it before MM intervenes.

“H-Hold, hold, hold up. Have a seat please, only been here three minutes and it’s already The Bold and the Batshit.” MM declares grabbing a black bin liner and placing it on Hughie’s lap. “All right, go ahead.” He says swapping places with Kimiko.

Kimiko grabs the top of Hughie’s arm prepared to make the break once more until MM speaks again.

“Right here.” He says gesturing lower down Hughie’s arm, “Clean break. No permanent damge.”

Hughie exhales looking straight ahead.

“Alright, one, two…” There’s aloud crack signifying the bones break as Hughie yells out in pain. “What the shit?” He screams not really believing he, nor Kimiko, actually did it without it being stopped.

“Here.” I say taking off my flannel shirt to make a make shift sling until we could get him a proper one. “That should help for now.”

“Thanks Y/n.” Hughie says after calming down.

Frenchie dismisses himself and Butcher reluctantly brings me with him and the rest of his crew to go see Mallory.

By the time I get out of the cramped backseat Butcher’s already heading inside with Mallory and a boy I can only assume is Ryan. I join the others for a momentonly catching the end of their mini chat.

“So why did you come back?” Hughie asks MM.

“Soldier Boy killed my family.” He says walking ahead of us before we follow in suit.

I mean he’s probably right. My Ben did become reckless occasionally when he fought but, we all did…that’s why we’ve always had a crisis team and cover up crew. I know it’s not fair but it’s not like it’s done on purpose at least 85% of the time anyway. Unfortunately we all make mistakes, I’ve yet to meet another supe with a body count higher than mine, I did do mine deliberately though.

I follow the present crew through to the bare living room as Kimiko and Ryan go to sit outside. As I overhear Butcher break the news to Mallory about Victoria and watch as she begins pacing and ranting.

“Neuman’s head of the bureau because I said so. I tried to save her from the attack on Congress that she fucking caused.” She complains in disbelief.

“Well, at least you didn’t spend the last year getting her oat milk lattes and every piece of intel she asked for.” Hughie says pushing himself off the wall he was leaning on.

“I would very much like to know the plan to eliminate her.” She says before glancing at me suspiciously I can tell she’s racking her brain to place me but we only met once a long time ago for like two minutes hopefully she won’t remember me for my fame either. As far as the world is aware Amphitrite is dead, mind you they said the same about Soldier Boy.

“Well, that depends on what you can tell us about your little holiday down in Nicaragua.”

“I’ve never been to Nicaragua.”

“Really? ‘Cause a little birdie told me that you were Payback’s case officer down there, on a classified job that Soldier Boy never come back from.” Butcher states staring Mallory down as she scoffs.

“Colonel?” MM asks.

“Whatever it is that William thinks he may have heard, he is mistaken.”

“Is he?” I counter and she just glares at me before Butcher chimes in again.

“You know that safe you got in your home office? The one behind the picture of Bush number one? Well, I borrowed the ledger from it, the one with all your assets around the world.” Mallory turns her focus back on Butcher I can see the worry clearly painted on her face. “How long do you think them and their families will last when I put every one of their fucking names on Facebook?” I won’t lie, Butcher would make a fantastic super villain he’s not afraid to kill hundreds to get what he wants.

“You’d sign a death warrant on dozens of people who have nothing to do with this?” Mallory asks sceptically.

“I’m embarrassed for the both of us that you’re asking.” He confirms.

“Nicaragua’s ancient history. Not to mentioned I could be killed just for telling you.”

I’ll kill you like I killed everyone else that wouldn’t tell me. I’ve waited far too long to get to the missing pieces of my puzzle, you better fucking speak right now. I fight the urge to say it aloud but I can’t resist the allure of imagining how I’d get the information out of her if she hold her tongue.

“And all your agents will get killed if you don’t.” Butcher says plainly, clearly neither of them are aware that some of them are already dead. “Blimey. What a pickle.” He adds taking a seat in front of her.

There’s a pregnant pause as tension builds before Mallory finally speaks.

“It was part of operation Charly.”

“Operation Charly?” Hughie asks.

“It was part of Reagan’s pet project off the books.” I answer as Mallory solemnly nods at me.

“Help the Contra rebels fight the Russian-backed Sandinistas, but we needed a way to pay for it. Some of the cash came from selling arms to Iran, Oliver North’s epic fuckup. But the rest. If there’s one thing that the Contras had plenty of, it was cocaine. I was in charge of trafficking the coke to the U.S. and then using the profits to buy more weapons. In the fight against the Reds, whatever it took.” She declares.

“That’s some self-justifying bullshit. Were you part of that other thing too?” MM sneers.

“What other thing?” Hughie asks.

“She knows.” MM says. “Tell him.”

Mallory stays silent looking down at the splinter filled wooden floor boards below our feet.

“The unwritten policy, to sell cocaine strictly to minority neighbourhoods.” I answer for her wanting to get to the part about Soldier Boy and Payback.

“Late in ’84 we were gearing up for a major defensive so the higher-ups, in their infinite wisdom, decided it was the perfect time to throw a wrench in the works.”

Mallory then goes on to say how she heard cheering coming from outside the tents and went to investigate when she found her men gathering around the truly obnoxious group Payback, I mean she had a fair point but of course they were up their own arses all the praise and media they got for essentially showing up and looking pretty. None of them ever really did a genuine heroic act in their lives unless they new money and fame would be their reward. She further explained how she was practically dealing with spoilt toddlers, before and after Stanley Edgar showed up treating her men like a catering crew as if they were on holiday at a resort. She briefly mentioned how Soldier Boy attempted to flirt with her before shutting him down saying how any woman that’s been with him was only with him because they were scared of him. I can’t help but clench my fists in anger, I’m aware he was genuinely insecure about that, he thought that was the only reason I stayed with him despite how many times I’d insist it was bullshit and how many times I showed him I love him I knew that feeling would never completely go away. To think that may have been one of his final thoughts before either his death or disappearance (the latter more realistic) pains me.

“Hold that thought.” I hear Butcher’s stomach gurgle as he leaves inevitably to throw up as one of the side effects of the temp V I stole for him.

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neuron461 · 9 months

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#fantasy #webtoon #sigrid #manhwa #korean manhwa #korean manga #action #romance #romcom #royal family #knight #soldier boy #soldiergirl #comedy #reincarnation #love manga

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ms-nesbit · 2 years

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- Atonement (2007)

#atonement #james mccavoy #kiera knightley #ugh omg #this started my love for romance during WWII #WWII #oscars #my favs #mine #but how cute is mccavoy #soldier boy #oh man those eyes

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fooled-around-and-fell · 1 year

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How to request:

requests are open!

Just send me whatever you want! But here's a few things to note:

I write for female reader.

If I'm not comfortable with it, I won't write it. It's nothing personal against you!

I might take some time to write them, so I apologize beforehand.

If you see something you do not agree with in my work (subtle kinks, rpf), then kindly leave. Block me. Do not interact further. I respect your opinion, but you do not get to dictate what I write.

MASTERLIST ⤵️

..there is a lot of hot people on this list. enjoy.

❤red: smut/suggestive/spicy

▸ Pedro Pascal

The Best Kisser [fluff] Age Gap [angsty fluff] || Second Part [fluff] Pascal in a Song [fluff] Pascal with a Kid [fluff] Dancing [fluff] Sleeping Beauty [fluff, GN]

As Joel Miller:

The Two of Us [angst] Nursed to Health [fluff] ❤Fights [suggestive] ❤Pretty Like This [smut, angst] Home Bound Series

As Frankie Morales:

Phone Sex Operator [romance]

As Agent Whiskey:

Sweet Whiskey [fluff] Last Dance [angsty] Social Cues [fluff] Jack is sick [fluff]

▸ Jeremy Allen White

As Carmen Berzatto:

❤Cherry Compote And Apricots [smut] Square One [angst] || Squared Away [angst/fluff] A Romantic [fluff] ❤Strawberries and Cream [smut] ❤Suits [spicy] || Rewards [smut] ❤Slow Love [smut] Bad Day [angst/fluff] ❤Carmen getting a BJ [smut]

▸ Ryomen Sukuna

Shadows And Silk [angst/fluff]

▸ Suguru Geto

Your Best [angst/fluff] ❤She's Going To Love It [smut]

▸ Gojo Satoru

He's Mine [angst/fluff] || I'm Always Yours [angst/fluff] Scars Are Beautiful [fluff] She's Mean, And He Loves Her For It [angst/fluff] Her Rage Keeps Him Going [fluff]

▸ Fushiguro Megumi

Not a Kid Anymore [spicy, fluff] Stay the Night [fluff]

▸ Aaron Taylor-Johnson

As Tangerine:

Marks [angst, fluff] Baby Citrus [fluff]

▸ Will Poulter

Hugs, Massages [fluff] If you'd like to [fluff]

As Adam Warlock:

Becoming Human [fluff] Powerless [angst]

▸ Jensen Ackles

As Dean Winchester:

Time and Misunderstandings [angst] ❤Request: Best friends turned lover [smut]

As Soldier Boy:

Already Broken [angst/fluff]

▸ Ben Affleck

As Bruce Wayne:

Identity [romance] His Secret [angst] Self-Defense [romance]

▸ Chris Evans

Found You [fluff]

As Steve Rogers:

The Enemy [angst] All I Ask [angst] Precious, Special, Important [angst]

▸ Tom Hiddleston

As Loki:

Monsters [angst/fluff] Empty [angst]

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corinthianism · 6 months

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corinthianism's fic recs

here are my personal favorite fanfics! idk how often i'll update this, but i hope you like them as much as i do :) *indicates smut

last updated: march 26, 2024

MARVEL

loki laufeyson - from the void, with love — by whirlybirbs (my fav fanfic of all time!!! i think about this fic several times in a day bro) - riptide — by starks-hero - the tailor* (series) — by birdofhermes (ao3) - time after time (series) — by goldencherriess (ao3) - a friend from work — by cozy_the_overlord (ao3)

thor odinson - god of fertility* (request) — by charnelhouse - highway don't care (but i do, i do)* (part one, part two, part three) — by spacelabrathor

peter parker (andrew garfield) - agree to disagree — by delicate-dorothea - nerdy peter (request) — by webslingingslasher - good boy x bad girl trope (request) — by webslingingslasher - hold you here, my loveliest friend* — by p3mybeloved - your friendly neighborhood sensitive spider* — by jin0 - glad you're home — by withahappyrefrain - the mechanics of a soul — by irndad - 3 is the magic number* — by withahappyrefrain - crush — by ptersparkers - as it goes — by forever-rogue - here comes the sun (part one, part two, part three) — by withahappyrefrain - stability, reciprocity, and a romance for the ages (series) — by privateanxieties (ao3 - need an account to read)

steven grant (moon knight) - hold me close — by stormkobra-5 - gift of min* — by astroboots - puzzles* — by stormkobra-5 - first time* — by luvpedropascal - domestic adonis* — by peterman-spideyparker - where it starts — by silversweetpea - fallen from heaven, grown on earth* (series) — by davosmymaster (ao3) - call me poe* — by kittyfandom (ao3) - elemental — by batsingotham (ao3) - the boy with the thorn in his side — by eating_flowers (ao3)

marc spector (moon knight) - not him — by loud-mouth-loser - it's worth it, it's divine* — by the-archxr - i'm getting to know someone — by davosmymaster (ao3)

wade wilson (deadpool) - tea and sympathy (series) — by bucketsoffrogs (ao3)

SHERLOCK (BBC)

sherlock holmes - your hidden strength — by okay-j-hannah - sublime dexterity* (part one, part two) — by daydreamtofiction - literally everything by starks-hero

SUPERNATURAL

sam winchester - playing house (part one, part two) — by uncouth-the-fifth - baby i'll stay (heaven can wait) — by uncouth-the-fifth - move over.* — by ggwritesstuff - where's your head at?* — by beau55515 - birthdays: sam winchester style* — by karleekarma (ao3) - the comforts of home — by zepskies - under the hood* — by shawslut

dean winchester - whether you like it or not — by kbeautimous (ao3) - reading you wrong — by zepskies - cherished — by thatonewriter15 (ao3) - soft touch — by wearywinchester - i love her, that's why* — by kaleldobrev - drivin' me crazy* — by lis-likes-fics

castiel - salt n' lick* — by aperfectgrace (ao3) - a bite of apple pie (series) — by ac_deanc (ao3)

THE SANDMAN

the corinthian - bring me a dream* (series, ongoing) — by placeinthemiddleofnowhere - nihil — by lis-likes-fics

dream/morpheus - sweet dreams (are made of this) — by stranger-nightmare

CRIMINAL MINDS

aaron hotchner - from eden — by heliotropehotch - gold star — by honeypiehotchner - love, an abstract concept — by luveline - honeymoon phase* (series) — by hotchsbitch (ao3)

THE BOYS

soldier boy (he's absolutely horrible but so. so. hot.) - break me down* (series) — by zepskies (go read their other stuff too!) - talk to me — by zepskies

homelander (also absolutely horrible. would sleep with him.) - if i can't have you — by watchstarscollide - milky white* — by after-witch

GAME OF THRONES

jaime lannister - i'm not made by design — by ichorai (this legitimately changed my brain chemistry)

STAR WARS

obi-wan kenobi - like turning on the light* — by full-time-make-believer (deactivated acc) (this also changed the trajectory of my life) - where it wasn't* — by 221bshrlocked - your thoughts are loud — by spidersbane - empty me out* — by 221bshrlocked - house of memories* (series) — by meshlasolus - bad idea, right?* (series) — by mischiefling (ao3) - you make me feel like dancing — by saradika (ao3) - it's a wonderful lie — by firstofficerwiggles (ao3) - temptation's kiss — by karasong (ao3) - you make my dreams* — by wickedscribbles (ao3) - like a living mirage — by karasong (ao3) - broken drought* — by rosalindbeatrice (ao3) - never grow up — by doihavetoloseyoutoo (ao3) - never ending story — by kybercrystal (ao3) - volveré* — by kxnobi (ao3)

din djarin (the mandalorian) - the savior* (part one, part two, part three) — by dindjiarin - significant — by softlyspector - touching din — by archieimagines - uncharted territory* — by pedrito-friskito - creed* — by wheresarizona - home is wherever i'm with you* (part one, part two, part three) — by saradika

DRACULA (BBC)

count dracula - the székely* (series) — by theplumsoldier

LOTR/THE HOBBIT

thranduil oropherion - a boon* (series) — by inksplots (ao3) - beauty and the beast (series) — by tamurilofrivendell (ao3)

DOCTOR SLEEP

dan torrance - of monsters and men* — by helaintoloki & obitwo - domestic life (headcanons) — by thornsinmycrown - smut alphabet* — by daincrediblegg

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hflzel · 1 year

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dear soldier, - CHAPTER 1 (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1293620429-dear-soldier-chapter-1?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=hflzel&wp_originator=1ta6F4naYtVvgvs9TGwxYTNI4hGs2%2F7L8HVCb8EUrNxLt2%2BUbMu4noKmfx3NzSl9Zjgm6F2DSY4uoIgCcUdbDpR1XT31PS7Z%2FtGqSt916RxcBytM6z8JlPgdZc6oNKEO This is where it started. It all began. In the heart of my soldier. He's the only one who said, "I can". dear soldier, is written about two lovers they love each other but find all they have is words left. They have to fight for each other. Kaji is the soldier of Khazi's heart. Read More...

#boy #girl #love #man #romance #snow #soldier #war #winter #woman #books #wattpad #reading

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kneelingshadowsalome · 11 months

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Just Friends (König x F!Reader)

How to Make Friends 1/4 (Word count 5.4 k)

Summary: König is a horny, creepy killing machine obsessed with a shy, kind reader who has a raging knife kink.

Tags/warnings: 🔞 Eventual smut, eventual violence, angst, dark romance, canon divergence. Crack treated seriously. Yandere undertones, implied stalking, panty stealing, major character death, size kink, voyeurism, possessive sex, twisted, fluffy feelings. Loner boy/gentle girl dynamic. Protective!Obsessive!Top!König. Reader works as a cleaner at the base. She is described to have hair and prefers to wear dresses off work. Not safe or sane but mostly consensual.

A/N: AU where König (sadly) isn't a colonel and doesn't have a t-shirt as a hood but an... actual hood. Please heed the tags lovelies 🩷

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

No one sees a cleaning lady.

Cleaners are invisible. People remember them only when their desks start to gather dust, when their floors are full of mud. No one sees her except the tallest guy in the building: the guy who everybody seems to ignore, just like they ignore her.

It doesn't take long to see why. He's different, and not just because of the mask he's wearing.

She sees him playing with knives. He throws them in the air leisurely, catches them by the handle, and never misses the catch. He flicks them from side to side, spins and whirls the blades in motions she can't even see because they're so swift.

It's pure magic. And they're not dull training knives; they're sharp as a razor, vicious, tactical – but that doesn't make them ugly. They're quite stunning, and she's caught staring more than once.

His movements are not what she'd exactly call precise and fluid. They're urgent, antsy, made to relieve stress of some sort. He's stimming with the knives. Alleviating pain or frustration. The rest of his body is still; only the ice-blue eyes flicker on the blade as he focuses all his attention on the dance. Sometimes he just stares at them, turns them around as if checking the edge, as if it wasn't evident that they're deadly and sharp. That's how she knows he takes good care of the things he loves.

He's fascinated by them, just like she is. And it's not just the knives; she's fascinated by him.

Others cast side eyes, nervous looks at him. Even some of his fellow operators look at the man like he's a lunatic. And perhaps he is, but she can't help it.

She's mesmerized.

It all changes when she accidentally walks into a meeting room while there is a briefing going on. Apparently, no one considers her a threat or a potential spy because she is summoned in before she rushes to close the door, and so she goes on about her day while the soldiers are already wrapping things up.

The hooded giant is there too, leaning back in a chair too small for him, this time playing with a butterfly knife. It's the smallest, daintiest thing she has yet seen in those hands. He always has gloves on, but that doesn't make the flashy flipping look any less dangerous.

She starts by dusting the side tables so she is not in the way. This time, she vehemently does not want to be seen. Save perhaps by the knife maniac.

The man even helps her with cleaning: he picks up some of the objects he can reach so she can wipe the surface more easily. It makes her cheeks grow hot, but she cannot bring herself to thank him. She doesn't dare to make a single sound while there is a meeting going on and their captain is still speaking, but she gives her thanks through her eyes and her smile, and the man looks at her like she's some kind of saintly sight.

The look in those blue eyes is starstruck. Almost… obsessive.

It should send ice to her stomach. But it doesn't.

He continues showing off with the knife as she moves to the other side of the room. He does it to mess with her head or entertain her, delight her, perhaps - the man already knows she’s intrigued by his vast collection of blades.

It's a bit creepy. The man as a whole is a bit creepy, but she only feels a rush, a high that turns her monotonous work day into a thrill.

"König. Would you mind?"

The sound of the flicking blade stops, and she is possibly the only one in this room who misses the noise.

"Entschuldigung."

He speaks, and the voice sends ripples across her scalp. It's twisted and amused, as if the man gets off on annoying the shit out of his workmates.

"English, please..."

"My apologies."

The blade is tucked somewhere in his pocket and the man named König leans forward on the table. Slightly hunched over like that, he looks even more intimidating than before. The playfulness is gone, and he looks fiercely professional. More shivers are sent down her spine.

König…

König is the reason she still keeps working in this odd little compound, the base of some special operations unit that requires an insane amount of security checks and secret contracts and confidentiality agreements just so she can clean the floors from their soddy footprints.

König is the reason she starts to put on some mascara in the morning, tie her hair in a high ponytail, or braid it in two little braids so she would appear cuter if she happens to pass him by in the hallway. He's the reason she opens not one but two buttons of her blouse before she starts the day. He's also the reason her underwear is soaked in the middle of a boring shift.

He appears in her break room to borrow coffee. And not once, but twice during the same week.

"You're running low again?"

"Eh… Ja."

He's shit at lying, though. She is relatively sure by now that he's here only because he wants to see her.

"I'll bring it back. I mean–I'll buy you some."

He seems a bit shy, like her, and combined with the fact that he still chooses to seek her out already gives her sleepless nights. It makes her far more confident than she has ever been with people.

His accent, his voice, are pure fire. She feels sinful for thinking about how he would behave in the bedroom, how he would talk – after all, it already sounds like he's breathless and strained, already sounds like he's working her open with whatever monster is hidden in those pants a bit too small for him. He walks with a wide lounge, and she just knows it's because he is so big down there.

"You do that," she gives him a particularly flirty smile and revels in how it makes him even more distraught. It's quite fascinating how the same man can exude barely repressed bloodlust one moment and stupefied silence the next.

He returns the very next day to bring her a package of coffee. The same brand he borrowed twice already is set on the table in front of her with tense shoulders. She has seen the man relaxed only when he’s achieved that alluring flow state with his knives.

"Hier."

"Why thank you."

He simply stands there, switches weight from one foot to the other, and shrugs.

"I'll be going then."

But he doesn’t leave. Not right away. He watches her with that icy, burning stare, and she cocks her head.

“Bye,” she chimes with a soft smile – the guy is simply too cute. His restless twitching stops; he freezes where he stands, blinks – and then turns and walks out the door like a robot.

. . . . .

She's not supposed to be here. Or, she is, but he's not.

No one’s supposed to be here when there's the sign on the door. The men's showers are supposed to be cleared once a week for good scrubbing, and she only has 30 minutes to do that. It's once a week, less than an hour, there's a sign, and still, some jerk has to walk right through it.

No one sees a cleaning lady.

No one appears to even care about the fucking sign.

But then she sees who exactly has disrespected her humble position. It's a shock to see that familiar black hood with two eye holes on it thrown on the bench. Next to that, the khaki-colored cargo pants, a black shirt, and those gloves, all in a heap – this guy is not the most orderly, perhaps.

And she takes a fucking peek inside the showers because the door is, for some unfathomable reason, transparent, see-through glass.

The first thing she sees is muscle. Just wet, powerful cords of muscle slapped on the tallest man she has ever seen or would probably ever see.

He's a vision: godly, almost. Then she notices what he's doing.

Of course he has to be fucking fapping on top of everything.

Her throat is dry and her hands are numb as she watches how he leans on the tiles with one hand and works himself with the other. The body hair on the guy is so pale that he basically looks neatly shaved, save for the short hair on the top of his head – the man's nothing but sleek, dripping muscle through and through.

He sounds weak when he's masturbating; the noise that echoes in the showers consists mainly of frail, high-pitched grunts.

She's wet in no time, and it doesn't help that he looks frantic, almost violent, while jerking off. It's a sloppy frenzy, and the sounds of wet, angry slapping make her heart beat so fast that the rush of blood in her ears nearly drowns the noise.

The man has big hands, but his cock still looks massive inside one. She knows she will copy-paste the image of that long cock, slick with water and soap, in her mind over and over again while releasing some tension herself. Of course it's big because he's big, but the length of it is simply outrageous – she cannot comprehend how he can fit himself in his pants, even when soft.

His whole upper body tenses abruptly, like a huge cord of cable; he throws his head back, his hips jerk forward and he goes catatonic – the cum shot that follows would shoot a meter away if it wasn't stopped by the wall. The spurts of his load are equally as fierce as the fap, and she feels faint.

And why the fuck is she even standing here in the first place?

And then he…

He drops his head, turns a little to the side, like he’s known she has been here the whole time.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck-

She can only see his eyes from behind the arm still leaning on the wall. That heated glare is not furious, but nor is it benevolent: it's simply pure, manic lust.

She turns and rushes from the locker room like she has just seen a monster.

. . . . .

"Hey."

If he's here for coffee or for her, she doesn't know. Or, perhaps she does, but she's also so unbelievably ashamed and embarrassed that perhaps it's no surprise that he seeks her out in the break room since she has avoided him everywhere else for two days.

"Hi."

Her weak voice is followed by silence, and she doesn't turn, even when she knows he's still behind her. Something in the air, some part of atavistic instinct tells her he's standing right behind her.

"You here for more coffee?"

He still doesn't say anything, and she begins to freak out.

"König… I'm–God, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have–"

"Did you like what you saw?"

Her heart shoots up her throat, and her stomach churns, almost starts to eat itself from the pure terror. But it's nothing compared to what he says next.

"I was thinking of you," the calm voice reaches her ears like a tall wave, making her even more woozy than she was in the men's showers.

"I'm– sorry, what?"

"Your mouth… Breasts. If you're tight."

She finally turns, doesn't even try to conceal her horror tinged with incomprehensible, strange lust.

"Jesus…"

The ice between them is broken, but at what cost – and the anxiety she had mistaken for cuteness reveals something psychotic underneath. He still looks at her with the same stare, even when she tries to make it clear that this approach makes her want to vomit. He doesn't move, only towers over her like a hulking shade, and she darts from the break room, completely soaked and on the verge of tears.

. . . . .

There's a knock on her door the next morning, so early that she wonders who the hell could be up at this hour other than staff. It's like… five-thirty. She's so sleepy that she doesn't quite think it through as she throws only a t-shirt on before strolling to the door.

What the f-

König shoves the flowers almost in her face as she opens the door, and she has to yank her head back. All the sleep is gone in an instant, and she curses in her mind that she's standing here in only a tight t-shirt and a black pair of panties.

"I'm sorry. Please, accept my apology," he says like a poorly rehearsed actor while watching her thighs and what's between them. Her nipples shoot up, and not from cold.

"Uh… sure," she tries to sound neutral while accepting the flowers, if not his apology. He takes a step back after making sure she has truly taken the gift, and she instinctively lowers the bouquet down to shield herself from his searing gaze. She knows she's a hypocrite, having masturbated at the memory of him last night. Twice.

He has his hood on, and wears the eternal black shirt, padded gloves and some cargo pants, but there’s also an overload of gear on him. Pouches and pads and wires and ammo - she even catches a grenade or two. There’s a gun strapped to his thigh, and the shoulder pads make his already broad shoulders look even more wide. He looks so… tactical, so in his element that her instincts tell her it wouldn’t do shit to slam the door in his face and retreat back to the safety of her room. This soldier would just barge through the plywood.

And where did this guy get flowers at this hour of the day? No florist can possibly be open. Then she notices they're not exactly the kind of flowers she has seen at a shop.

Has he picked them from outside…?

"I thought you liked me."

His explanation makes her heart melt a little. He's so straightforward, so utterly without any charades or roles, that it makes her feel like she's the one who has disrespected him with her games. After all, she has done nothing but flirted 24/7 with the poor man for the last week. Of course he only thought she was interested.

"I do. I do like you."

His eyes light up with uncontained hunger. "Can I come in?"

Nope. Big mistake.

"Uh, I don't think that's a good idea."

"Ok. I'll be going then."

He turns on his heels and is ready to go like nothing ever happened.

“Wha-… König, please, wait.”

He halts on command, turns back, looks at her solemnly. The only thing that gives his confusion away are his eyes, which flicker from her puzzled stare to her mouth, occasionally to the bouquet covering her nether areas.

"Could we just be friends?" She offers him rather desperately.

He merely shrugs.

"Never had any friends."

For some reason, this guy has already started to live rent-free inside her head. She simply can't get him out. And she's intrigued, even when the sanest option would be to stay away from a creepy lunatic like him.

"I can be your friend."

Fuck, what did I just say, what the fuck did I just–

"Sure. Why not," he says immediately. "You just want to be friends?"

She resists the urge to facepalm right then and there in front of him. The guy is not only socially awkward: he's in a state of denial.

Some of his friends – or at least, teammates – pass them by. Kyle, if she remembers correctly, and a Scottish man they call Soap. They both smile at her kindly. It's the first time these men have ever paid her any attention; actually, this is probably the only occasion anyone pays attention to König either. They are both suddenly visible.

"Hey König, don't go harassing our cleaning lady. We got a plane to catch."

König stares somewhere behind her as Soap speaks. His eyes are covered with glass, and she knows that look all too well. The tallest man in the building is dissociating while the two soldiers march by behind him with raised eyebrows and pursed lips: a mocking gesture only she can see.

She watches the scene with an odd pity. It appears they step into existence only when they're together – an unfamiliar setting and an odd couple, the object of ridicule for people who probably claim themselves to be normal.

"I think it would be best, yes," she whispers when the hall is quiet again. She has to start her day soon, and he has a plane to catch - no one else is awake except one hard-working woman and a few operators about to leave on an early mission. She feels the strangest sorrow as she realizes that he wanted to drop by with some flowers and his apology before leaving some place he might never return.

The man gives her a last once-over before taking his leave. He nods slowly, never breaking their gaze: an odd, gentlemanly move.

"Just friends, then."

. . . . .

It is the hottest day yet, and the guy walks around with his black hood even then.

Her new friend.

She's outside, trying to catch some fresh air and sunlight after spending another 8 hours inside a buzzing facility, and somehow, some way, the tall enigma of a man always finds her.

He angles his walk towards her as if he only happened to pass by at the same time she was lounging against the wall and looking at clouds drifting in the sky. In truth, she has an odd, yawning suspicion that she is being stalked nowadays. One of her underwear has gone missing, and she's wretched because her first thought upon finding it gone was the solid assumption that he had stolen them. Which further meant that the man had broken into her room.

But there's also flowers. Every morning when she opens her door, there's a single flower awaiting her. Sometimes, two or three, and not from a store, but from outside, from nature.

He's courting her, and she feels stupidly like a little princess because of those homely yet thoughtful gifts. She doesn't throw them away: they gather on her table, on her window sill, in a little water glass on her bedside table.

She's far too kind, that's what people always say, but she's also neck-deep into this goddamn creep at this point to do anything about it. The building is full of muscled men, men who are decent, and she chooses this… gift-bearing perv to crush on. In her judgment system, she's basically asking for it at this point.

"How are you?"

His accent lingers in the air between them, and she can't help it: it always brings a rush of heat on her cheeks and a rush of wetness down below when she hears him speak.

"I'm good. Just… good. How about you?"

"Sehr gut."

Perhaps the underwear has simply gone missing while washing laundry: it's not unusual when at least 20 people share one washing machine.

And they're only friends. Friends don't steal each other's underwear. Friends ask how they have been, how their day's gone.

"You look nice."

But the summer sun pales in comparison with the heat of that stare. Friends might compliment each other, but they don't look at each other like that.

She feels grungy enough while cleaning, not to mention in the bland, saggy clothes she has to wear every morning, so it can't be a surprise that she likes to put on an effort after the day is done. The citrus-yellow dress she has this afternoon catches his attention like she's a whole circus in town.

"You always look like an angel," he elaborates further, and she has to prevent herself from taking support from the wall upon hearing his compliment.

"Oh.. Thanks," she smiles, and he answers it: the faint creases around narrowing eyes are enough proof of that. "It's so hot… Do you ever take the hood off?"

"Sometimes."

"Do you take it off before bed?"

Oh god.

That sounded weird. She meant to ask if he took it off before sleeping.

Well, 'before bed', 'before sleeping'… What's the difference, really?

Still, he reads into it like a hawk for a seemingly socially graceless case.

"Depends if I'm alone or not," he says. Definitely thinks she's flirting with him again. Talk about sending mixed messages…

Friends, friends. We're just friends.

"Where are you from, by the way? Are you German?"

"No. Austrian."

"Oh. It must be beautiful there at this time of year."

"It is. I would still trade all of Austria for you," he says without any clumsiness, even though the pickup line is awful, one of the worst she has heard – and god, still, those big hands, that fire and ice stare makes her feel high as a kite. The image of him plowing her with the same pace he fucked his hand won't leave her alone.

"König… Just friends," she warns while feeling how another pair of panties is already ruined. She's so wet it's not even funny anymore; it makes her annoyed.

"Ok."

He says ok, but she knows he won't yield. She’s been far too kind for far too long and won't be losing this guy's interest anytime soon.

"How's work?" She tries to patiently show him how to be fricking friends, even if one party is constantly undressing the other with their eyes. As if she's not doing the same…

"You really want to know?"

"Sure."

"Had to scrub intestines from my shoes all night," he says casually. She can only blink and watch how completely distanced and indifferent he seems about something so sick.

"Everything's a mess when you use a knife," he explains further.

"Uh... I'm sure it is."

"Do you regret that you asked?"

"No. Well, perhaps a little."

He crosses his arms over his chest and looks proud; only seems pleased with himself for succeeding in scaring her even more.

"That's why I scrub guts and you scrub floors."

"I guess so," she agrees to his ever-authentic way of saying things how they are. He's a soldier: she can’t change that fact no matter how he or she puts it. Decent guys did the exact same things he did; they just didn't go around telling shy girls about the gory details of their work.

"Do you like knives?"

Nor did they ask things like this. They would ask if she wanted to go see a movie or have a lovely dinner that would end in a kiss and an exchange of phone numbers.

"Um. Yes, I think they're beautiful."

Her response causes a short, deafening silence, a few blinks. The wind catches his mask, but it never rises: she notices he's not only undressing her body, but also her soul with those eyes. Patient, like he knows all her secrets and loves them already.

"What would it take to be more than friends?"

His sudden change of subject is almost as shocking as the devil-may-care account of his work. She is feeling unusually wild; the warm weather and the yellow hues covering the distant horizons make her want to lie down on the grass and pull him on top of her. She thinks of him sliding up the fabric of her cutesy dress, thinks of him opening his pants to get that huge cock out and force it inside.

"Well… You could… Ask me out, for starters?"

"What if you come to my room and I'll show you something," he offers instantly.

As nice and naive as she may be, she's sure the only thing he wants to show her is his cock. Which she has already seen, technically speaking. Which she would like to see again, heaven forbid.

She is slightly breathless and wonders if the heat on her cheeks is visible, if her lips are a bit fuller than usual from her thoughts. Perhaps that's why she resorts to a counteroffer as if she's bargaining here. As if she can't say no.

"Uh.. How about you come and pick me up for dinner this eve–"

"Ok."

He nods with full-blown promise in his eyes and leaves right away, a little too content, and she realizes she has made the worst mistake of her entire life. She will never get a man of his size out of her room if she lets him in and things go awry.

In a hurried decision, she decides she will simply leave him blue-balled at the door. She simply won't go to dinner; she certainly won't let him in. She doesn't have to, even if and when she has to watch him mope for the rest of the year.

She will tell him they're not friends, they're nothing anymore, and that's just it.

She goes, determined and her mind set, to shower, only to notice that she's more soaked than the pool of soap water gathering at her feet. Her body simply betrays her at every turn. Perhaps she should masturbate, just in case, so she won't be weak-willed when he arrives at her door this evening. Yes, that's a brilliant idea, one of the rare good ones she’s had these past few days.

“Jesus–"

By the time she enters her room, wet and throbbing, he's already there.

"How did you get in?"

He shrugs his shoulders like he always does.

"You asked me to visit you."

He doesn't even answer her question about him breaking into her fucking room. He's standing right next to her dresser and a bra she had thrown on one of the open drawers, and she knows right then and there that he's the panty thief.

"Yeah, but… I thought you'd knock or something."

"Sorry."

If you shrug I swear I’m going to…

"Where do you wish to go?"

He's standing there like a contrapposto statue, narrow hips deliciously tilted and with an obvious erection in his pants. He doesn't seem to feel ashamed about it, and it makes her even more wet.

She has a murderous giant in her room, a killer who's visibly turned on by the sight of her underwear, perhaps the lingering scent of her perfume, too… and he's asking where she wishes to go eat tonight so he might have a chance to bang her afterward.

"Do you like Chinese?"

He shrugs as an answer, and she sighs.

"I need to change. Could you turn around?"

The eyes behind the hood regard her with curiosity, but the man does as he is bid. She takes out a floral dress and a more comfortable bra and walks further away to the bed to change. König faces the wall while she gets undressed with trembling hands. She’s sure the man will turn around, march to her, and simply have his way with her before she gets the dress on. Some sick part of her even yearns for it.

But he doesn't. Instead, his head tilts a little to the side, and his hand rises to gently brush the lace of her bra while she's in the most vulnerable position she's ever been with this man. It's an almost equal violation of her privacy as it would've been to turn, but her tongue is tied. And she only now notices he's not wearing gloves.

König is caressing her underwear with no fabric whatsoever between his skin and her chastity, and it makes her breath grow heavy like they're living in the 18th century.

"All set," she says, voice tight, and he lowers his hand and turns as if he has done nothing wrong.

The evening, however, goes far better than she had hoped. Or feared.

He buys them dinner, drinks one beer. They even have a perfectly healthy, civil conversation. She helps herself to a bit of wine to calm her nerves, and they discuss what their dreams used to be before they landed the jobs they currently have.

He reveals he wanted to be a sniper and that he prefers to work alone, but to her question on what went wrong with all that, he merely answers he was 'too clumsy.'

What the man is really trying to say is that he's simply too big. Detectable, loud, and tall.

He hints at being bullied at school and in the army, and she feels even more sorry for him, curses in her mind – if the guy's tactic is to get a girl by being a hot loner with a tragic tale of woe, it sure is working for him.

"Are you afraid of me?" He asks when there's still tension between them, tension that should have melted by now.

"A bit, yeah."

"Is it because of the hood?"

His voice is softer, and she realizes that he's really trying: trying to tone down whatever beast rages inside him, trying his all to be normal instead of some tormented madman.

"No, not exactly," she confesses and feels a sting in her heart when he looks defeated. She almost feels like a bully, too. She wants to take the guy in her arms and shush him to sleep so he would wake up less haunted. But that's not how this goes: she cannot fix him, and even if she could, she has no right to.

He takes her back to the base and stands at her door again. The halls have fallen silent, everyone's asleep at this hour, and her heart is still hammering in her chest.

"Are we still just friends?" He stares at her from the darkness of the hood, shoulders slightly hunched, trying to make himself appear smaller. Less intimidating.

"I…I guess so."

"You think I'm weird, don't you."

His next question is more of a statement. And all she wants to say is no, even if it's a lie. The guy is… not evil; it's just that he certainly isn't sane and sound, either.

"Um… I… Uh-"

"You're the one who watched me in the showers," he points out as if they're keeping score on who's more of a perv.

"Yeah. I guess I'm the weirdo here," she laughs nervously, then almost bites her tongue. He only cocks his head a little to the side and repeats his earlier question.

"Did you like what you saw?"

"Well… yes, ok? I did. Why else would I–"

"It's ok. I understand. I don't mind."

"Well, it was still rude of me to do that." She guides her gaze to the floor, then up at his polar stare that makes her want to swoon in the hopes that he will catch her. "Didn't you notice the sign on the door?"

"I did," he said, and the corners of his eyes slowly gather a few wrinkles. Smiling again.

She shakes her head slowly, scoldingly, and notices how that smile only deepens under the hood. Then his face – or what little can be seen of it – straightens.

"Am I harassing you?"

Wow. Well, at least the poor guy is trying to self-reflect. But something tells her there's more than some new-found awareness of his late behavior at work here.

There's bitterness... Exclusion.

Loneliness.

"No," she tries to comfort him. Another facepalm moment: she is basically telling a stalker she likes being stalked. That this sort of wacko shit was approved of. So this is what it has come to… Years of being invisible apparently did things like this to people.

"Or maybe a bit," she says as a spineless afterthought.

"Do you want me to stop?"

In all honesty, she is drunk on his attention. The obsessive behavior, the relentless wooing, romantic gestures accompanied by a stare that says he wants to plow her until she is a limp heap on a bed stained with tears and cum.

"König… Are you lonely?"

He shrugs, and she wants to grab him. Shake him.

"Are you?" He says with an unusually deep voice.

"...Yes."

Her voice is as fragile as can be, but the hall echoes her confession like it's a loud song. The eyes under the hood look at her softly, longingly: she hasn't even noticed how soft they can sometimes be.

"You don't have to be."

There's simply no use in denying it: she wants this guy to fuck her, no matter how creepy or weird he is.

She grabs a fistful of his shirt and pulls him inside.

#könig x reader #könig x female reader #könig x you #könig smut #könig fanfic #mw2 smut #könig fanfiction #könig mw2 #konig x reader #call of duty #mw2 #mw2 fanfic #mw2 x reader #yandere könig #könig imagine #könig

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itsbeeble · 5 months

Text

TRY HARD

SUMMARY: Need to get rid of some junk? Well these college hunks will haul YOUR junk! Give us a call at xxx-xxx-JUNK and we’ll haul YOUR junk for FREE! (limited time offer)

GENRE: smut, crack, fluff, minimal angst

PAIRING: Lee Juyeon x afab!reader (ft. sangyeon, sunwoo, and chanhee)

WC: 8.7k (oops)

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @winterchimez @juyeonszn

18+ MDNI AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

WARNINGS: name calling (reader calls Juyeon stripper boy, baby, and pretty boy. Juyeon calls reader pretty girl), swearing, mentions of college parties, Y/N roasts Juyeon like a lot, Juyeon stops a door with his foot, one bed trope (for like two seconds), sunwoo slander (learning from Fawn <3) Juyeon is not god's strongest soldier, masturbation (m and kinda f), p in v sex, implied unprotected sex, restraints are used, dom!reader kinda, bratty!Juyo kinda, really poor attempts at humor, i think there's more but that covers the big stuff

A/N: This was NOT supposed to be almost 9k. It was supposed to be 3k at MOST but i will not lie i will prolly end up doing this again for most of the fics I'm putting out for this collab oops. Anywayyyyy let's kick off the collab with arguably my funniest fic.

The first time you meet Lee Juyeon, you’re dressed in sleep shorts and the biggest sweatshirt in your closet. He’s standing at your door, and for a moment you can’t help but be confused by the fact that yes, there is a hot man in a white tank top and cargo pants leaning against your doorframe. And yes, he is, in fact, there for you and not the girls living down the hall from you.

And, to be fair, it wasn’t your fault that you thought he was a stripper. Really, it wasn’t. It’s not every day that you see a guy with a body to die for and the face of an angel.

“Are you some sort of stripper?” For a moment, the two of you are quiet. There’s a look of pure astonishment on his face that eventually turns into him fighting back a grin.

“Do you want me to be?” His tongue brushes over his lower lip while he scans you up and down and you scoff.

“No. The girls you’re probably looking for are down the hall, the last door on the right.” You begin to shut the door. “Have fun.”

“Wait!” His foot catches in the door before you can slam it shut and you hear him swear loudly. “Shit, that did not feel good.”

“Are you fucking stupid?” You swing the door open again, scowling at him. “Why would you try to catch this heavy ass door with your foot?”

“I thought it would look cool!” He winces, one hand gripping your door frame and the other cradling his aching foot. “Like in the movies!”

“I don’t know if you know this…” you trail off, squinting at him and realizing you have no idea who this man is. “Stripper boy,—”

“Juyeon,” you can practically hear his teeth grinding as he speaks. You hum.

“Stripper boy,” you bob your head. “That’s what I’m gonna call you.”

“Please don’t—”

“Anyway,” you interrupt again. “I don’t know if you know this, but romance movies are fictional. Of course, it’s not gonna look like the prop door and they’re gonna catch it like it’s nothing. This, however,” you hit your fist against your door, “is solid metal. Not gonna feel good when you catch this shit, dumbass.”

“Whatever,” Juyeon rolls his eyes and straightens his body out. “I was just making my rounds across campus, wanted to see if you’d be interested in supporting your local fraternity.”

You raise an eyebrow, reaching your hand out to take the flier from his hand.

College Hunks Hauling Junk!

Need to get rid of some junk? Well, these college hunks will haul YOUR junk! Give us a call at xxx-xxx-JUNK and we’ll haul YOUR junk for FREE! (limited-time offer)

Scan HERE to book your appointment!

“College hunks hauling junk,” you can’t help but laugh at the name and take the flier from Juyeon’s hands. He grins at you. “People are actually paying you guys to haul their shit away?”

He shrugs. “It’s free, technically. You’re allowed to donate, but we’re really just doing it for free. You know, help out fellow students and spread the word.”

“You sure it wouldn’t be easier to just do some stripping if you can’t pay the rent?” You ask. “Also, what do you mean spread the word?”

“I’m glad you asked.” Juyeon points a finger at the bottom of the flier, completely disregarding the first part of your sentence. Fuck, his hands are big.

This ad also doubles as your invitation to Tau Beta Zeta’s parties for the rest of the semester. Cash this in at any time and get into ANY parties for free! (Code word will be given at the time of flier being cashed in) (Girls get in for free, Guys $5 @ the door)

“We’re having a little competition with the sorority down the road from us,” Juyeon explains. “Whoever has more people by the end of the semester gets to host the end-of-the-year party and the other frat or sorority has to buy food and drinks.”

You stare at the paper for a second, pondering your options. Then you smile, look up at the man that you are still pretty damn sure is a stripper, and hand back the flier.

“I’m good, thanks.”

The door shuts, and you turn to go back to bed. The sound of paper sliding across the ground stops you, and you can see in the faint light that streams under your door that Juyeon slipped the flier into your room.

Fucking try hard.

The second time you see Lee Juyeon, he’s handing out fliers again. Only he isn’t walking around random apartment buildings with a weird seductive look that you honestly don’t doubt was working. This time, he’s in a hoodie and jeans and walking around the center of campus with people that you can only assume are his frat brothers.

At first, you almost don’t recognize him, but then his eyes meet yours, and you can see the corners wrinkle when he smiles. Again, you’re confused. Is he smiling at you?

Your head whips around, trying to find someone around you that he might be looking at, and when you turn around again, Juyeon is approaching you.

“Have you thought about it, pretty girl?” He asked and you stared at him dumbly for a moment. Did he just call you pretty girl?

“Thought about what?” He holds up that flier again, placing it in your hands similarly to the other night. “Oh.”

“Did you think I was kidding?” He leans down slightly, keeping eye contact. Your free hand places itself on his chest— which you hadn’t realized before was very solid— and pushes him back. He barely moves. In fact, you are the one who gets pushed back.

“Listen, stripper boy—”

“Juyeon—”

“Stripper boy,” you mimic the exasperated tone he uses with you. “If I wanted an invitation to a stereotypical frat party with a bunch of drunk 20-somethings and cheap beer and bad pizza and try-hard men like yourself, I would’ve gone by now.” You fold up the flier, smoothing out the edges before holding it out to him. He doesn’t take it, and you can see the gears turning in his brain.

“So what you’re saying,” he starts to smile and steps toward you again.”

“Stripper boy,” you warn.

“…is that there’s a chance?”

“Absolutely not, there is not a chance in hell that I’m gonna call some college hunks to haul junk out of my college apartment that I can barely afford to live in let alone pay you to take things out of.” Juyeon shrugs.

“Like I said, payment is optional and can come in…” he wiggles his eyebrows at you, “many different forms, pretty girl.”

“That’s gross, stripper boy.” You scrunch up your nose and he laughs. “Also, why are you calling me that?”

“Calling you what?” his smile only grows and you huff.

“Pretty girl.”

“Because you are a pretty girl.”

“No, I’m—” You catch yourself in the sentence when he leans forward onto the tips of his toes, ready to stop you. “You know what, fuck you. I know that was a dirty little trick and I’m not gonna fall for it just so you can swoop in and say something like oh nooo, don’t say that about yourself! You’re so pretty! And then you’ll tuck my hair behind my ear and you’ll try to kiss me and then—” You stop yourself again. Juyeon’s smile is almost scary at this point, stretching all the way across his face as if this had been his plan all along and you walked right into it.

“And then…?” He teases.

“…fuck you and your frat, stripper boy. God, you guys are such try-hards.”

You hold onto the flier this time, whether too embarrassed to give it back or genuine curiosity, you aren’t sure. You do know that you can’t stop the pounding in your chest, or the heat rising in your cheeks.

“Who was that?” Sunwoo slings an arm over Juyeon’s shoulder, both men watching you walk away with the flier held tightly in your hand. Juyeon smiles.

“Just someone I know.”

“Didn’t look like she was too happy to see you.” Sunwoo snickers and drops his arm down to stand straight. Juyeon turns to the younger man, the smile he had when standing with you now gone and replaced with a permanent scowl.

“Who even asked you, Sunwoo?”

The younger raises his hands in defense. “I’m just saying! It looked like she hated you. Oooh, maybe you’re finally gonna get that enemies-to-lovers arc that Eric is always— WHOA, HEY—” Sunwoo nearly trips over himself trying to get away from Juyeon as the older frat brother swings his arm out in his direction. “Don’t hurt this pretty face! How else is the soccer team gonna get their funds?” A hand in the shape of a finger gun finds its way under Sunwoo’s chin, and the star soccer player smirks.

“I think they’ll manage,” Juyeon swings his arm out again, wincing when Sunwoo lets out an ear-piercing squeal.

It’s like you’re seeing him everywhere. Every class you go to, it’s like he’s always there handing out fliers or chatting with his friends. And, unfortunately, every time you see him, he sees you too. He animatedly waves at you, calling your name or running over to you. Every time, you somehow end up with another flier to add to your collection.

For weeks you’ve been seeing him in places that you swear you’d never seen him in before. You swear that he’s not in your environmental course. You swear that he’s not in your sociology course. He just has to be following you.

That, or you just have shitty luck with Lee Juyeon.

It must be bad luck, you think as you watch the fire department evacuate your flooded building. It must be, you tell yourself as you stand there in the pouring rain in pajama shorts and a sweater, sans an umbrella. There’s nothing else it could be.

Your eyes narrow at the sight of Juyeon standing near a group of girls with those damned fliers in one hand and some umbrellas around the wrist of the other. Your hands tighten around your arms, body shaking from the cold of the rain. Your lips twist into a deep frown when he approaches you, his eyebrows knit together and his lips pursed at the sight of you. His mouth opens to say something, and you hold your hand up to stop him.

“Save it, stripper boy. I don’t want your fucking spiel right now.” His shoulders slump a little.

“I was just going to ask if you wanted an umbrella.” He holds one out, the last one on his arm. “You have to be freezing right now, and you’re absolutely soaked.” Your hand wraps around the umbrella, your eyes still narrowed with suspicion.

“Thanks…” he smiles and backs up to give you space to open it. You would never admit to his face that he was right. That you were freezing your ass off in this godforsaken weather.

“Are you okay?” You look up at him, sniff, and shrug.

“I mean, my home is currently flooding which leaves me homeless for at least a few days. It’s piss-pouring rain out here, I’m in my pajamas with all my clothing inside the flooded building, and now here you are probably trying to get me to buy from your stupid fundraiser thing.” You take a deep breath, finally looking him in the eye. “So no, I don’t think I’m okay, Juyeon. Thanks for asking.” He’s quiet for a moment, and then a small smile breaks onto his face.

“I think that’s the first time you’ve called me Juyeon.” You bite your tongue and turn to walk away from him. “Wait, fuck, Y/N it was a joke. I’m sorry.” He grabs your arm, pulling you back to him. You can see a little bit of panic in his gaze.

“Yeah, well it was a shitty joke.” You scoff.

“I know, poor taste, I was just trying to lighten the mood.” He pulls his hand from your arm, and you almost feel bad. It’s quiet between you two, and you think that this is the first time it’s ever been completely silent. Well, save for the chatter of other tenants and incoming sirens and the yells of officers.

“This fucking sucks,” you grumble, and Juyeon huffs out a laugh.

“Do you have anywhere that you go?”

You shake your head. “Nah, none of my friends have space for another person in their apartment or dorm.”

“You could stay with me.” He says it so fast, so suddenly, that you thought you misheard him at first.

“Excuse me?” Juyeon clears his throat, his cheeks and ears flushing and you can’t tell if it’s from the cold or embarrassment.

“I— I mean you— I’m just—” he stumbles over his words and you smile.

“Is the Lee Juyeon embarrassed right now? In front of little ol’ me, nonetheless?”

“I’m not embarrassed,” he snaps, pressing the back of one of his hands to his neck in a poor attempt to cool himself down. “I’m just— I—”

“Juyeon,” your hand comes up to his arm and he flinches. You let your arm drop down to your side. “Are you trying to ask me to stay with you while the building is being repaired?”

You’re smiling at him, and it’s like that tiny action brings back all of his previous confidence. He’s smirking again, leaning down under the tiny umbrella he gave you. It’s your turn to blush now, but your eyes don’t leave his.

“Because,” your voice nearly betrays you. “That would be a little…odd…wouldn’t it? A girl living with, what, ten men? People would talk.” He hums.

“But they would also find it odd if I just…left you to live in your car for god knows how long, wouldn’t they?” His hand is on your waist, and the breath in your lungs hitches.

“That’s true…” you hum and pull away from him. “I don’t have any clothes, though. I’d need to find some before doing anything.” Juyeon clicks his tongue and leans back, a thoughtful look taking over the previous…you don’t even know what to call what you were doing. Was he flirting with you? Were you flirting with him?

“That’s true,” he nods his head. “We can grab some from the store tomorrow? And for now, you can borrow some of my stuff— I mean, if you’re comfortable with that.” He stumbles over his words again, and you can’t help but laugh. “Kevin’s clothes might fit you better but— you’re laughing. Why are— why are you laughing at me.”

“You’re just—” You break into another fit of giggles, covering your mouth with your hand to try and muffle the noise. “God, you’re so dumb.”

“How am I dumb?” Juyeon pouts at you, and you know he just wants you to be comfortable.

“Never mind,” you wave him off, “let’s just get going. I’m tired and wet.” Juyeon raises an eyebrow, and you roll your eyes. “Not like that, stripper boy.”

“I know,” he grins at you and tugs you by the sleeve to get you to start walking. “I just wanted to mess with you a little bit.”

“Seems like that’s all you do.” You roll your eyes. “And please tell me you drove here. I am not walking to the house in shorts and slippers.” Juyeon clicks his tongue.

“As if I would walk anywhere in this weather.” He reaches into his pocket and you hear the click of a button, and then the lights of a car in front of you light up. He jogs forward, grabbing the handle of the passenger side door for you with a bright smile on his face. “After you, m’lady.”

“What a gentleman,” you shut the umbrella and duck into the vehicle.

“Only for you, pretty girl.” He winks at you and shuts the door.

Juyeon is quiet when you exit his bathroom. Your hair is wrapped in a towel, your body swamped in Juyeon’s clothes. He’s lying flat on his back on his mattress, his legs dangling off the edge and his fingers drumming on his stomach. Your feet shuffle against the ground, the fabric of his sweatpants covering your feet entirely and dragging behind you. His t-shirt is almost like a dress on you, hanging down to your thighs and the sleeves baggy along your arms where it would be formfitting on him.

“Where should I put these?” Juyeon lifts his head, and you hear a sharp inhale. He’s staring at you, and the gaze is heavy with something you can’t place.

“You—” his voice cracks and he sits up fully, resting his elbows on his knees. “You can just toss them in the basket next to you. I’ll— I’ll wash it tomorrow.” You hum, doing as he says and tossing your clothing into the basket.

His room is…weirdly clean. At least, it’s cleaner than you expected it to be for a frat boy. There’s a bit of laundry scattered across the room, sure, but you don’t feel gross just standing there. The floor is clean, the bed is made.

The bed.

The one bed in the room.

“Where— where should I set up a spot to sleep?” You wring your hands behind your back.

“What?” Juyeon stares at you dumbly, his eyes blank and jaw dropped slightly. If you look closely, you swear you can see a puddle of drool on the floor in front of him. Unintentionally, you snort and immediately slap a hand over your mouth.

“I just— I mean this is your room, stripper boy.” You shrug, trying to keep the air as light as possible. “Where should I set up camp for the next three days?”

“You are not sleeping on the floor.” Juyeon shakes his head and pushes off the edge of his bed.

“Then where am I gonna sleep?”

“The bed?” He says it as if it’s obvious. “The fuck? You really thought I was gonna make you sleep on the floor?”

“Stripper boy, I am not sleeping in your bed.” You click your tongue.

“Yes, you are, pretty girl.” He takes a step toward you. “I’m not gonna let you sleep on the floor! First of all, you’re a guest. Second of all, I’m a gentleman. Third of all, I’m—” he cuts himself short again and you raise an eyebrow.

“Well, then I’ll sleep on the couch downstairs. That’ll solve it.” You move to the door, but he grabs your upper arm and pulls you toward him. “Dude, you have got to stop grabbing me like that. It’s kind of annoying.”

“Sorry.” He exhales and lets go of your arm, brushing his hand across the skin he grabbed as if to soothe it. It sends sparks of heat through your arm, and you fight back a shiver. “I just— what if we share my bed?”

You stare at him for a moment.

Then another.

And then another.

And then Juyeon is wincing and stepping away from you.

“I was just— that was stupid. I’m sorry.”

“I mean…” you purse your lips. “If it solves the problem, then sure.”

“Wait seriously?” His eyes bug out of his head and you laugh. “You’re comfortable with that?”

“Stripper boy, if you thought I was gonna kick you out of your bed, then you have a whole new thing coming.” He rolls his eyes. “We can just…I dunno. Put pillows between us?”

“Yeah, that works. That works just fine.” He sighs heavily. Just fine. He’s gonna be just fine these next few days.

Juyeon realizes very quickly that it will not, in fact, be fine. He realizes this when he wakes up in the middle of the night, the pillows between the two of you thrown to the edge of the bed and your body wrapped around his like a vice. One of your legs is hooked around his, the other strewn across his hip to lock him down. You have one arm tucked under his, holding his shoulder while your free arm has slipped around his waist, under his shirt so your fingers are splayed across his abdomen. Your head is seemingly strategically placed on his chest, and he can feel every breath you release. He can feel every pulse of your heartbeat against his leg—

Wait.

…

Oh, this arrangement is not going to be good for his heart.

He tries desperately to shift away from you, to gently pry you off of him, anything to get the pounding in his chest to go away. Anything to stop the blood from rushing to his dick like some goddamn virgin. It’s a normal thing. It’s not something to get fucking hard over, Lee Juyeon. Pull yourself together.

It feels like ages before he’s able to pull himself free, nearly falling out of his bed to get away from you. He freezes in place when he hears you shift, a quiet moan leaving you when your sleeping self finds the spot Juyeon once lay frozen is now empty. His heart is pounding, his feet padding quickly against the floor to get to his bathroom. He’s quick to shut the door, cringing at the squeak of the hinges. Gotta get those fixed, he notes. For future reference, of course.

He’s hard in his sweats, his dick straining against the fabric, and his body feels like it’s on fire. Juyeon leans against the counter, tapping his foot anxiously while he stares at himself in the mirror. His cheeks are flushed, his hair a mess, and his pupils are blown out. He grips the marble counter, squeezing his eyes shut and praying to god that he softens soon because he cannot and will not jerk off to you. Not when you’re right there, one thin wall over.

Thinking that was a mistake. His dick twitches in his pants at the thought of you waking up and finding him in the bathroom, cock in hand, and frantically trying to rub one out.

Oh, he’s so fucked, he squeezes his eyes shut as he shoves his sweatpants down just enough to be able to grab himself. Just enough for him to spring free and let the cold air wash over him.

Juyeon is completely, royally fucked, and he knows it as he spits on his hand. He knows it when he wraps his hand around his cock. Juyeon knows it when his body shudders from the first pump of his hand, the brush of his thumb across his tip. He knows it when he fights the whine trying to erupt from his throat.

He knows it when he cums in his hand, ropes of white covering his palm when he places his hand over his tip to minimize the mess. He knows it when all he thought about was you. You and your pretty face. You who calls him stripper boy, who hasn't hesitated to shoot him down every chance you get. You who he’s pretty damn sure is into him in the same way he’s into you.

It’s hard for Juyeon to get back in his bed and lie down next to you knowing that just a few minutes ago he came in his hand to the thought of you. It’s even harder for him to fall back to sleep when you wrap yourself around him again, relaxing against his body and releasing a contented sigh. He tries so, so hard to relax with you, to steady his pounding heart.

God, he’s so fucked.

"When did you get here?” There’s a boy— a man, really— standing at the counter when you and Juyeon walk into the kitchen in the morning. The man is holding a ceramic Garfield mug that you assume is filled with coffee, and he’s got his phone in his free hand. You give him a short wave, and he nods back at you.

Juyeon had been odd the whole morning. Or, at least, the two hours you had been awake and the one hour since he’d woken up and immediately rolled to his feet to get away from you. Something about morning wood. Since then, he’d been keeping a healthy distance from you, flinching away from your touch and giving short responses to your questions and statements. It makes you nervous. Were you intruding? Did he regret asking you to stay?

“Last night,” Juyeon answers for you, leading you to the bar counter and pulling out a chair for you to sit in. “Y/N, this is Sangyeon. He’s the Tau Beta Zeta president. Sangyeon, this is Y/N. She’s gonna be staying with us for the next couple of days.”

Sangyeon squints at you, gnawing at his lip in thought.

“And you guys are…what? Friends? Lovers? Fuck buddies?” You scoff and Juyeon whips his head around, nearly spilling coffee onto his hand.

“None of the above,” you wave your hand and almost miss the flash of emotion in Juyeon’s eyes. “Just someone who needed a hand, and strip- Juyeon happened to be there.” Sangyeon turns to Juyeon with an inquisitive look on his face. Juyeon shakes his head and turns back to you with two mugs in his hand.

“I didn’t know how you take your coffee so I just threw some cream and a bit of sugar in there.” The mug he slides over to you is shaped like a ladybug, and you can’t help the laugh that escapes you at the sight of his mug. Normal, compared to yours. Just plain white with text that says ‘Stupid people shouldn’t breed!’. “What’s so funny?”

“Just the…interesting arrangement of mugs you all have here.” You smile at Juyeon, but he just scoffs. Sangyeon excuses himself and pats Juyeon on the shoulder before making his exit up the stairs.

“I’ll have you know that I picked these all out.” He defends, but you can see the embarrassment in the flush of his cheeks, the dark color spreading to the tips of his ears. “You got a problem with them?”

“No, no,” you smile into your mug and take a sip. It’s bitter, and a bit watered down, but you’re grateful for the caffeine boost. “It’s cute, really. You made some great choices, stripper boy.”

“That sounded sarcastic,” Juyeon pouts at you and you shake your head.

“It wasn’t!” You reassure him, leaning your torso onto the counter. Juyeon stands near you now, on the shorter edge of the counter and he scoffs.

“Sure it wasn’t. Because you’re the most supportive person in the world of my decisions.” He turns away from you, staring at the magnetic words on the refrigerator instead of at you and you rise from your seat to stand by his side.

“Juyooo,” your voice is sing-song in tone and Juyeon fights every instinct inside of him that screams to pin you to the counter and fuck you senseless. “Are you mad at me?”

“Of course I am,” he rolls his eyes and tilts his chin up when you come to stand in front of him.

“Why?” You frown, but the corners of your lips fight to turn up.

“You made fun of me!”

“Yeah, but it was all in good fun!” You protest. “I think your choice of mugs was cute!”

“No you don’t,” he scoffs and crosses his arms. “You think they’re stupid.”

“No,” you shake your head. “I think they’re adorable.”

“Bullshit,” Juyeon says. “You think they’re stupid.”

“I do not.” You groan.

“You do!”

“Do not!”

“Do too!”

“Do no—”

Juyeon’s lips are on yours, and you let out a startled gasp, your hand flying up and finding purchase on his chest.

You try to push him off, you really do! You think about it, you tell your body to push him off, and then somehow you end up pulling him closer, allowing your eyes to slip closed. Isn’t it so weird how that happens?

Your hand is holding his shirt tightly, keeping him close to you while your lips mesh in a sloppy kiss. His lips are rough against yours, his teeth nipping at your lower lip and then his tongue slips out and soothes the bites. The repeated actions have your legs trembling, your breathing becoming shaky, and your hand that isn’t in his shirt rises to the back of his neck to tangle in his hair and pull him impossibly closer to you.

His hands are all over you. They run up and down your waist, brushing under the waistband of the sweatpants he lent you, pushing into your back to keep you close to him. They run under your shirt, grazing the underside of your shirt, and he smiles when he feels you exhale shakily against him.

You hesitantly, and ever so slowly, push your tongue out, letting it run across his lower lip and you’re a bit too pleased when he opens up for you immediately. He lets you push your tongue into his mouth, lets you explore, and is ever so patient with your hesitance.

Gently, oh so gently, he sucks on your tongue while you try to pull it back into your mouth and you release the tiniest, almost inaudible whine.

Apparently, to your complete dismay, this snaps Juyeon back into reality and he pulls away from you. He pulls away quickly, almost stumbling back and into some of the bar stools. You’re standing there, almost in a daze, and both of you just stare at each other for a moment. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you, and Juyeon can tell that you’re regretting what the two of you just did.

And it hurts. It really hurts when you open your mouth, going to speak and nothing comes out. He smiles sadly.

“I should find a way to get to the store. You’re gonna need some clothes for the next few days.”

“Juyeon, wait—” You reach for him, but he just shakes his head.

“It’s fine, pretty girl.” He reassures you, but his voice breaks and betrays him. “No hard feelings. Let’s just forget it happened.”

“I don’t want to forget that!” You protest, but Juyeon just shakes his head.

“Like I said, pretty girl,” He grabs his mug and smiles at you. There’s no emotion behind it, at least not one that you want to recognize. “We gotta get you some clothes for the next three days.”

It’s infuriating how quickly he seems to move on. Three days pass by, and not once has he even hinted about talking about what happened. It was almost like he’d forgotten about it entirely.

Which, to your dismay, was exactly what he wanted you to do. It wasn’t as if you regretted the kiss, at least not in the way he thought. The regret that you knew you had let slip was from pulling away in the first place. You had only meant to come up for air, knowing that you would likely drown in him had you given yourself the chance. Now, due to your own stupid mistakes, the tables have turned for you.

He’d been avoiding you since you moved back into your apartment two days ago. He’d avoided you in the classes you were now all too aware that you shared. It stung that he no longer sought you out, no longer yelled your name from across the room, and drew unwanted attention to you. He no longer pressured you to call the number on that damn flier that sat untouched on your desk.

“You could always just, I dunno,” Chanhee is lying on your bed, scrolling on his phone while you rant about his frat brother. “Call the number? I’m pretty sure it’s his number anyway.”

“Wait seriously?” You spin around in your desk chair, turning away from the project you two are supposed to be working on together.

“Yeah, it just happened to be really convenient that the last four digits of his phone number spelled junk. What do you think of this?” He flips his phone around to show you a coat. A black trench coat, nothing too fancy about it.

“Eh. You have plenty of those, don’t you?”

“True.” He nods and lays back down.

“Should I really call him?” You lean your head back on your chair, lacing your fingers together on your lap. “What if he hates me, Chanhee?”

“Trust me, Y/N,” Chanhee exhales heavily, “that man does not hate you.”

“But how do you know that?” You ask. “If he told you that, he could be lying to you!”

“Girl,” Chanhee throws his phone down onto your mattress and sits up straight. “If a man hates you, he is not going to jack off at 3 in the goddamn morning— with his frat brothers in the other room that connects to his bathroom, mind you— to the thought of you. Trust me. He doesn’t hate you.”

“You don’t— I’m sorry, what?” Your eyes are bugging out of your head and Chanhee grimaces in a way that tells you that he was not supposed to tell you that.

“Oops…”

“What do you mean he— Chanhee, what are you talking about?” Chanhee is already rising from your bed, grabbing his laptop, and sliding his shoes on.

“I think it’s time for me to get out of here,” he tells you with a tight smile on his face. He comes toward you though, holding the flier in his hand. “But, I really think you should call this number. Could really help you both, I think.”

When the door shuts behind your classmate, you sit in silence for a moment. A few moments, really, just holding the first flier that Juyeon ever gave you in your hand. There’s a little bit of water damage from the flooding, but the number in the middle of the page is still there. It’s almost ironic that Juyeon’s phone number is the only part of the advertisement that isn’t ruined, like something was telling you that you needed to call Juyeon.

Your phone rings once, then twice, and you hear the line click on the other side.

“Thank you for calling College Hunks, what junk can we haul for you today?”

It takes Juyeon a little over an hour to get to your apartment. By that point, you’d gathered anything that you didn’t want into trash bags and set them in your living room. Each bag is organized to an extent. Things to be recycled, to be donated, or just thrown away. Most of the items that needed to be thrown away were damaged when your apartment building flooded, each damaged beyond repair. Almost like fate, isn’t it?

There’s a knock on your door. One, two, three. Your hands are shaking a bit when you grab the door handle. One, two, th—

You practically rip the door open before Juyeon can finish knocking. He’s standing there, wide-eyed with his mouth hanging open. The outfit he’s wearing is the same as the day he first showed up at your door. White tank top, cargo pants, and some worn-out sneakers. For once, his hair isn’t styled. He’s parted it down the middle, a little bit of gel used to keep it from falling into his face too much.

“Hi,” you breathe out. It’s like Juyeon is stuck in a trance, his hand still frozen mid-knock and his mouth opening and closing like a damn fish. “You— do you want to come in?” Juyeon blinks.

“Uh…yeah, yeah sure.” You step to the side, allowing him to walk into your apartment. It’s awkward, to say the least. When you shut your door, the click makes both of you flinch and suddenly you’ve forgotten everything that you wanted to say to him.

“Is this—” Juyeon’s voice cracks a little bit, and he turns to face you but he doesn’t look you in the eye. “Is this everything?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “yeah it is. Needed to get rid of some stuff after the building flooded, you know?” You laugh, but he doesn’t and you’re quick to shut your mouth. Say something, dammit. Anything. Your mind is screaming, whether at you or Juyeon you aren’t entirely sure. “Juyeon, can we ta—”

“I should get started then,” he cuts you off and you grimace. “Got a couple of appointments today, so I can’t linger for long.”

“Right…” your voice trails off. “Yeah, I’ll get out of your way then.”

Plan A is a bust, then.

Juyeon moves quickly. You don’t know if it’s work ethic or if he wants to get away from you as fast as possible, but it stings. You don’t say anything to each other the whole time, not that you staying in your bedroom the whole time did anything to help the situation. You can hear him moving around, carrying bag after bag down to his car, but not once does he come to talk to you. Not even about the junk he’s carrying out.

Your forehead is against your desk, your eyes shut tightly as you try to block out the noise, knowing that he’ll be carrying out the last bag soon. The sound of your feet tapping on the ground is almost enough to drown out Juyeon, but not quite enough to drown out the knocking at your bedroom door.

Your head snaps up, and you spin around to face Juyeon.

“Hi,” he gives you a tight smile. “I just— I brought out the last bag so I guess— I guess I should go, huh?”

Don’t, you want to tell him, don’t leave yet.

“Yeah, I guess so.” You stand up and clear your throat. “Here, what’s your Venmo? I can send you some money.”

Juyeon shakes his head. “I already told you that you don’t have to pay me.”

“Yeah, you did,” you agree. “But I’d feel bad if I let you leave empty-handed.”

“I’m not leaving emptyhanded, though!” He argues. “I have your junk! Which, surprisingly, all fit into the trunk of my car.”

“Go you,” you cheer halfheartedly. “That’s not gonna stop me from paying you.”

“Pretty girl,” he warns. “I’m not gonna let you pay me.”

“Then I’ll get Chanhee to tell me your Venmo.” You grin and Juyeon rolls his eyes.

“You’re not gonna let this go, will you?”

“Nope,” you let the sound of the p pop when you say it and Juyeon lets out a dry laugh.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that right?”

“That’s the plan.” you look at him, and this time he’s looking right back at you. The awkward air has cleared, and it almost feels normal. Like it was prior to the kiss. God, please let Plan B work. “Are you gonna tell me what your account is, or am I gonna have to find some other way to pay you?”

There’s a spark of something in Juyeon’s eyes, and his eyebrows knit together. Please get it, please get it, please get it. C’mon Juyeon, don’t be dense.

“Some other way?” He echoes, and you mentally cheer when he steps toward you.

“Mhm!” You bob your head. “Like you said, there are other ways to pay you, aren’t there?”

He’s right in front of you now, and you swear you see him start to reach for you before he’s forcing his hands back down to his sides.

“You’re not—” he inhales and squeezes his eyes shut. “Please tell me I’m not misinterpreting this.”

“Depends on what you think I’m saying.” You smirk, and Juyeon starts to lean down, his eyes flitting from your eyes to your lips.

“What I think you’re offering,” he speaks slowly and you can feel his breath on your lips. “Is not exactly…appropriate, pretty girl.”

“And I think you’re right.” You’re practically whispering, every movement from your mouth causes your lips to brush against his and you’re so close to caving and just yanking him down to crush his lips against yours.

Thankfully, Juyeon moves fast and he’s grabbing you by the waist to yank you to him and your hands are in his hair by the time his lips are on your.

This kiss is heavier than the first. It’s messier and sloppier and his tongue is in your mouth, pushing at yours and licking at every nook and cranny that he can reach. You walk him backward to your bed. You don’t separate your mouths, not when you push him down onto your mattress, not when you sit on his lap with your legs on either side of him. Your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving little crescents indented into his skin.

Juyeon groans at the stinging feeling, sliding his hands under your shirt and gently pushing it up. He does it slowly, giving you time to stop him, but you get impatient and shove him back until he’s lying down. His hands are still on your waist, and he’s watching with a hazy gaze as you lift your shirt over your head and throw it somewhere across the room.

“Shit, pretty girl,” he breathes out and tries to slide his hands up to your chest. You’re smirking when you slap his hands away.

“No touching yet,” you tell him and he groans in response.

“You can’t just do this and not let me touch you!” He whines. “It’s not fair!”

“You should’ve thought about that before you ignored me for a week,” you retort and he falls silent. “It’s fine, though. I’ll just get you back with this.” Your hands reach behind your back and you swiftly unclip your bra and throw that in the direction you’d thrown your shirt in. Juyeon’s hands lurch up to touch you again but you’re faster, grabbing his wrists and pinning them down to his sides with a click of your tongue.

“Y/N please,” Juyeon begs, his breath hitching in his throat when you leave him completely, and he can only watch as you unbutton your jeans and tug the rest of your clothing off. He’s practically drooling as he sits up, watching you undress for him. He watches you walk to your dresser, digging through your drawers for a moment before returning with a long piece of silk. “Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking joking.”

You laugh at his reaction and toss the silk onto the mattress behind him.

“Why would I be joking, Juyeon?” You stand between his legs, and you grin when he doesn’t even try to touch you this time. You can see the tent in his cargo pants and let your hands trace up and down his thighs. “Take off your shirt for me?”

There’s a dangerous look in your eye, one that Juyeon can’t find himself wanting to disobey and he’s lifting his shirt over his head without a second thought. Your eyes widen ever so slightly and Juyeon can’t help but smirk. He knows he’s attractive, knows that his body catches people’s attention and he’s proud of that.

With you, however, there’s something different about how you look at him. Something primal, like a predator looking at her prey and he shifts in his spot.

“Pants too.” He nods and rises to his feet again, tensing when you raise your hands. “What are you stopping for? Get moving, don’t you have other appointments to get to?” Your hands are tracing the lines of his abs, feeling the way he flinches at your touch. You continue to trace his body as he bends down to lower his pants and boxers to the ground. Your hands raise to the backs of his shoulders, to the back of his neck, and let them slip down to his pecs when he stands straight again.

You almost let yourself falter when you see his cock for the first time. It’s big, bigger than any you’ve taken in the past, and you can’t help but imagine what he’d looked like when he was thinking of you. Did he look as messy as he does now, eyes practically crazed, his breathing labored as he fisted himself? Did he watch himself in the mirror, imagining it was your hand instead of his own?

“So pretty, baby.” You breathe out, letting your hand drop down to wrap around his cock. He sucks in a breath, letting it out when he whines at the feeling of you running your hand up and down, squeezing at the base, and rubbing your thumb along the tip. “So pretty.”

You push him back again, releasing him from your grasp and following him as he slides up your bed. You take the silk in your hand, gesturing for him to put his hands above his head, tying the silk tightly around his wrists so he can’t get loose. Juyeon lets out another broken whine when you straddle him, running your fingers over your core and gathering the wetness on your fingers. You allow yourself to moan quietly, gauging Juyeon’s reaction to you touching yourself. He’s staring with his mouth hanging open, his cock twitching against his abdomen as he watches you sink two fingers into your core. He whines when your body shudders against him, when you curl your fingers up into you.

“Is this what you think about, Juyeon?” You try your best to keep your voice steady when you speak. “Do you think about this when you touch yourself? When you lock yourself in the bathroom, jacking off to the thought of me like some little virgin?” He doesn’t respond, too lost in the sight of you riding your own hand.

He doesn’t see you reach your free hand up, gasping when he feels you squeeze your fingers around his throat. Not too tightly, but enough to get his attention back on you.

“I asked you a question, baby.” You pull your fingers out of your dripping pussy, gazing at the arousal covering your hand and humming in thought. “I guess I should give a reason to not answer, shouldn’t I?”

“Please,” Juyeon whispers out, and you smile when you raise your fingers to his mouth.

“Go on then,” you tell him, “suck.”

His head lurches forward, taking your fingers into his mouth and moaning at the taste of you. He runs his tongue along your fingers, and you inhale sharply, your eyelids drooping when he tries to open his eyes, trying to watch and gauge your reaction.

“Cleanin’ me up good, hm?” You pull your fingers from his mouth and Juyeon takes this time to catch his breath, to gather himself. You don’t give him long though, no more than a few moments before you’re grabbing his cock in your dainty hand and lining it up with your pussy.

“Fuck,” Juyeon throws his head back, his hands curling into fists, and groaning as you sink down on him. Your walls are squeezing so tightly around him, and he knows it has to be a stretch for you but you act as if it was nothing for you, as if he didn’t hit that sweet spot inside of you just by you sinking down on him. You let your eyes drift shut, fighting back the urge to start riding him until he has nothing left to give you. You can feel him twitching inside of you, knowing that he’s close just from your warm walls squeezing around him. “Fuck, pretty girl, please.”

“Please what, baby?” You coo, the hand on his throat squeezing gently. He whines and you grin. “Use those words, pretty boy. You can do it.”

“Let me fuck you,” he gasps out and you let out a yelp when he thrusts his hips up and sends you falling over his body.

Your breasts are in his face now, and he doesn’t give you the chance to do anything before he’s bringing his arms down and trapping you against him as best he can. He thrusts his hips up, driving his cock into you at a pace that you couldn’t keep up with if you tried. He reaches his head up, his teeth latching onto one of your nipples and practically forcing you to follow him as he brings his head back down. Juyeon sucks at your breast, pinning your chest against his face with his arms that he’s brought to rest between your shoulder blades. Every one of his thrusts sends you up his body, but he does his damn best to keep you in place, sucking and licking and biting at both of your tits, groaning every time your cunt clenches around him.

You feel like you can’t breathe, the air being punched out of you in broken moans and pitched whines. Juyeon is in about the same state as you, the noises he’s letting out are louder than yours, more frequent, and it brings a fresh wave of arousal washing over you.

“Are you close, pretty boy?” You gasp out. “Gonna— gonna cum for me?”

“Fuck, yes,” He throws his head back, his hips stuttering against yours. You bring one of your hands down to your clit, rubbing furious circles into it, letting your walls flutter around him and drawing both of you closer to your orgasms.

When you cum, it has you seeing stars. Your orgasm has you crying out his name, has you clenching around him so tightly that he’s finishing not long after you. You sink your body back, rolling your hips gently over his and placing a firm kiss on his lips. Your tongue pushes into his mouth, swallowing the sounds he makes as he pumps white hot cum into your core. It’s less of a kiss this time, though, and more teeth gnashing together and biting at each other’s lips.

His hips slow down after a minute or two, and you let your body relax against his, reaching up to untie the silk around his wrists.

“Fucking finally,” he groans and lets his hands roam your sweaty body. “Thought I was gonna die if you kept me tied up any longer.” You laugh, letting your head drop to his chest.

“That’s what you get for making me wait.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he rolls his eyes at you. “And you called me a try-hard.”

“Because you are, Juyeon.” You roll off of him, staring at your ceiling while you lay next to him on your mattress.

“Whatever you say, pretty girl,” he rolls his head to look at you with a cheeky grin on his face.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Your eyebrows knit together. He just keeps smiling. “What, stripper boy.”

“You know what all this means, right?” You shrug.

“That I have to go to all your parties now or you’re gonna hunt me down?” He laughs and you smile a bit.

“That, and I get to call you my girlfriend.”

“I never agreed to that.” You deny, turning on your side and facing him fully.

“Sure you did! It was at the very bottom of the flier I gave you.” He tells you.

“No, it wasn’t.” You frown.

“Yeah, it was!” He sits up, reaching for the second flier he gave you that had been placed on your bedside table. “See? Right there at the bottom in tiny font that I knew you wouldn’t pay attention to!” You squint at the words he’s pointing at and let out a scoff.

“Seriously, stripper boy? If your name is Y/N L/N and you redeem this offer, you are legally obligated to become Lee Juyeon’s boyfriend, whether you like it or not. Xoxo.” You push the paper back into his hands. "When did you even put this on there? We hardly knew each other when you gave me this flier."

“I told you!” He beams and lays back down. “You’re my girlfriend now.”

"Cute, but that doesn't answer my question, stripper boy." He digs his fingers into your side, pulling you closer to him, and grins.

"Does it matter?"

"I mean...I guess not?"

"Exactly."

“Does this mean that when we break up, I get half of all your assets?” He glares at you playfully.

“Fuck, no.”

“Damn…” you sigh and lay down with your head on his chest. “I guess I’ll have to put up with you for life then, huh?”

“Mhm.” He cards his hands through your hair, gently combing through the knots. “You excited to spend the next 75 years with me, girlfriend?”

“Not at all, boyfriend.”

“Yes, you are.”

“…Try-hard.”

1K notes · View notes

rosepascal · 3 months

Text

Blossom (Hanahaki AU) || Joel Miller x Reader

summary: Hanahaki- is a disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love.

warnings: Hanahaki disease, angst, happy ending, hurt/comfort, not so one sided love, blood, mentions of death/dying, Joel is bad at feelings.

a/n: I've been meaning to write a hanahaki fic for so long and its finally here! I hope you enjoy, I might write more with the other pedro boys with different endings >:)

You can't do this anymore. Everything's become too painful. Walking, talking, breathing. You've been shot, stabbed, punched, but somehow this was the worst pain you've ever felt. Maybe because it's coupled with heartbreak and a sense of unending loneliness.

Not to be morbid but you often thought how you were going to die. Sickness maybe. Lots of people in the QZ got sick. Maybe you'd push it too far with a FEDRA soldier one day. Or maybe a clicker would get you.

After all the times you've come close you're surprised it hasn't happened yet. Or raiders. You and Joel have come across them before and they aren't friendly. Even on your trek to Jackson you faced death multiple times and still made it out alive.

So who would have thought it was from an incurable bullshit disease that you've reached your end. It's funny if you really think about it. Survive a world ending apocalypse to get taken out by unrequited love.

You've hid it well honestly. No one has really suspected anything except for Maria. She's a smart woman and clocked something was wrong immediately. You denied it over and over but when she caught you bleeding from the mouth with flower petals around your feet, well you couldn't lie your way out of that one.

You swore her to secrecy and though reluctant she agreed. She's been helping you with pain medication. Keeping it under the table so no one else found out.

Sadly, it seems your time has run out. The bathroom door is locked and though you feel a sense of guilt for dying so suddenly like this, there's not much you can do now. You can barely lift your arms so getting up to go find help is out of the question. Not that anyone could help you anyways. The ground is bloody and littered with petals that have been growing inside of you for so long.

Hanahaki was rare but deadly. The only cure at this point was for your feelings to be returned. The surgery is out of the question with the state of Jacksons medical facilities. You'd given up hope long ago of Joel ever loving you the way you love him. Even as you sit against the cold lonely walls, dying, you manage to smile at the thought of the man. He was the cause of all your pain but he's worth every second.

You know that love and relationships aren't as easy as they used to be. With Joel he won't even think about the idea of feeling that way about someone. He doesn't have time. It's pointless. It's weakness. That's what he's always believed and though you've seen the cracks of that logic with Ellie. It's different. With her Joel sees a daughter. He doesn't have room for romance anymore. You desperately wish you were enough to change his mind. Not just because you're dying, but because you know he's worthy of love. He's fiercely protective, loyal, and perhaps that is his way of loving. Or maybe it's just his nature.

Even knowing all that about him, you still fell in love with him. Mostly you fell in love with his eyes. Those sad brown eyes that carry so much burden. So much sadness and rage. The eyes truly reveal all to you and deep inside he's just a broken man who's lost so much. His touches can be gentle and though he can't always express his feelings, he tries with you. Tries is the key word but hey, that's still something.

You wonder what will happen when you're gone. If Joel will be sad or if he'll move on and accept it. Will he care? You shake those thoughts from your head. Now isn't the time for that. It's becoming harder and harder to breathe. The energy in your body is draining slowly and you just don't have it in you to keep fighting.

Closing your eyes you imagine a world where Joel did love you. Where maybe the world wasn't horrible and the two of you could just, live. Maybe you'd move in to his house in Jackson with Ellie. He would make coffee in the morning and you'd make him a lunch. You could enjoy life together. Go see a movie, go on patrol. Go on dates where he gives you his jacket to keep you warm and where he kisses you whenever you ask. As you fade into darkness it becomes so real. A soft smile on your face as the pain floats away.

BANG

Your sweet daydreams are interrupted by a terribly annoying sound.

"Open this damn door now!" His voice is warbled as you aren't completely conscious anymore but you think it's Joel. Maybe you're hallucinating more than you thought.

"Fuck!" You hear him shout and suddenly the door swings open.

Joel is breathing raggedly as he breaks down the bathroom door. His eyes wide with panic as he takes in the horror scene in front of him. He drops to his knees and cups your face in his hands. Your eyes flutter closed and Joel panics more.

"Hey! Keep 'em open okay." He shakes your head until you open them. Letting out a groan of pain.

"You're fuckin' stupid you know that." He's angry, upset, terrified. How could you do this to him? To Ellie? How could you hide this from them? Your life on the fucking line and you refuse to tell him. He has to hear it from a rushed and apologetic confession from Maria.

"J..Joel?" You croak out. The pain gets worse as you try and sit up.

"Don't move." He commands as he scrambles for something, anything to help. He doesn't know what to do. What can he do? Blood drips from your mouth and he wipes it away.

"Tell me how to fix this." He tilts your head up and your eyes barely focus.

You frown as you see those brown eyes so distressed. There's nothing he can do. He knows that, he has to know that. You hate seeing him so upset. With all your strength you raise your hand and rest it on his. Shaking your head softly and trying your best to comfort him. Joel is completely and utterly helpless. It's a horrible feeling. Your eyes close and he starts to panic.

"Hey! Come on! There has to be somethin'" Joel lightly slaps your face but your eyes stay closed. He can feel your pulse slowing and he wants to puke.

"Don't leave me, please you can't do this to me!" He shouts. It's not fair. He's lost so much he can't lose you too. Not after everything you've been through together.

"Please..." Joel begs quietly as your hand starts to go limp.

You're still breathing but barely. He squeezes his eyes shut as rests his forehead against yours. Too fucking late. Too slow. If he had gotten here quicker, noticed something sooner, then maybe he could have done something. Rage builds inside of him as he silently begs for you to wake up.

"Please, I'm sorry baby. You can't leave me. I..." He thinks and thinks. Of what you mean to him, putting aside his fears, his doubt. You're his most trusted ally, a confidant, a partner, a friend. You're so much more.

"I love you." It's barely above a whisper as he admits it to himself for the first time and to you.

His rough hands tilt your head up as he kisses you. Every missed I love you, all the lost time, everything the two of you could have had, it's packed into his passionate kiss. He's sorry, he loves you. As he pulls back he waits, was he too late? Suddenly your eyes open and he tenses up. Slowly the pain fades and it feels like you can breathe again.

"Do that again, please." You ask.

Joel nearly cries as you smile at him. Without hesitation he smashes his lips onto yours. He's not gentle anymore as he mentally needs to know that you're truly okay. He feels your hands weave into his hair, pulling on him to be closer. He hears the small noises you make and your heart beating in your chest. You're alive.

"Took you long enough." He gently caresses your face and kisses your forehead. Too relieved that you're still here to care about anything else. He loves you.

He loves you.

And he won't ever let you forget it.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller angst

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apollohears · 2 months

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DEMO. ( TBD ) ✸ ROMANCES. ✸ PLAYLISTS.

last updated: coming soon !

IIn the upcoming 17+ fictional mystery and romance interactive novel inspired by Hansel & Gretel: Witch Hunters and ParaNorman, “Day of Dusk,” the story takes a romance-action approach, blending the thrilling mystery of the classic fantasy tales of witches and supernatural beings and witch hunting. You, as the reader, are immersed in a world where witches and dark magic lively coexist, two twines of the same throne, along with a forbidden mutual connection.

Set in a medieval fantasy world, "Day of Dusk" follows a small group of immature yet skilled traveling young merchants offering their famous service from small towns to bustling villages: witch hunting. As the story unfolds, the group is presented with difficult choices that impact the development of just how far one would go for power and love.

You and your group of companions are initially tasked with investigating a sequence of strange child disappearances within the polluted community of Ruel-Mizu. It is at your discretion how your group will unite and explore the fraught and somber history surrounding the vile and dangerous past associated with unveiling the dirty soil that was framed around the town.

You will not only confront formidable witches but also other abominable supernatural entities, encounter numerous unforeseen allies, and potential romantic partners along the way. Making weighty decisions will shape the character relationships and dynamics, ultimately determining the course of the narrative as you uncover the truth.

Through an exploration of forbidden romance, betrayal of those closest to them, the formation of unexpected alliances, and the undertaking of unfathomable sacrifices, "Day of Dusk" provides readers with an unparalleled and enthralling opportunity to delve into the world according to their own decision-making.

Just how far would you go to prove what’s right?

CONTENT WARNING: Day of Dusk is rated mature given that it contains suggestive mature themes, strong language, graphic depictions of violence, abuse, kidnapping, mental illness, death, grief, and other explicit material.

STORY FEATURES :

Play as a male, female, or non-binary; gay, straight, or bisexual; asexual and/or aromantic main character.

Discover friendships, connections, and/or their love with your brash yet seemingly devoted childhood best with a dreadful charm, a haunted prince plagued with a tragic upbringing, a secret poet who strives for a change in pace or a creation made killing machine discovering the meanings to life.

Have your name written in history tales to come, become a hero beacon of hope, or become a feared figure among the community.

Confide in the unrevealed troubles that settle the mysterious past of your royal company's path to break tradition—or steal the heir's power to the throne for your own.

Learn the dark truth about the horrors that lie concealing just how far some would go to great lengths in order to create life.

Forge the future of a community and companions lives with the supporting changes and challenges schemed upon you and all of those who you know or love.

THE RO'S CHARACTERS :

Pavlos Norlenbourne ( M ) — the forsaken royal.

"Being referred to as 'pretty boy' hardly fazes me, given the uproar my mere presence seems to cause."

Annette Meadowcroft ( F ) — the obsessive poet.

"It's within your pitiful, manly, brainless nature to see me as a naive and sheltered woman. It's quite unfortunate considering just how smarter I am than you."

Rune ( ANY ) — the callow soldier.

"If you have the audacity to think that I am some sorrowful god, then the pain of my fraud in human appearance will be all the more agonizing."

Silas/Sophia Amon ( M or F ) — the needling best friend.

"Respectfully, I cannot fathom anyone who wears a damn crown and fancy adoring dresses as anything but fucking unpleasant."

THE WITCH HUNTERS :

Phaedra ( F ) — the lure.

Legion ( M ) — the brawns.

You ( ANY ) — the leader.

Depending on your play style, you have the ability to create, shape and destroy numerous familial, romantic, platonic, professional and community relationship with a full cast of characters whose genders and personalities vary.

✸ Dedicated to all the hopeless romance and fantasy fans who are too engrossed in their books to talk and too shy to write, to my momanager Kass, who always likes to keep things real.

#romance #fantasy #if wip #twine interactive fiction #twine game #itch.io #twine wip #interactive fiction #interactive novel #supernatural #interactive story #choices #choice game #dating sim #interactive game #if: dod #if: dayofdusk

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samsno1 · 4 months

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Flowers

Castiel x GN!Reader

i love his eyes. that's it, that's the tweet. guys...this is very sweet but i don't know if i'm satisfied?? tell me what you think, writing castiel is very hard, lawd

Summary: In a hunt, a flower appears over your pillow after you come back to the motel room at night. Who left it there?

Warnings: FLUFF, TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, i pictured s4/5 cas in this, use of y/n, sweet confession, NOT PROOF READ, that's it? english isn't my first language

WC: 2.5k

You can learn how to change Y/N for your actual name here

enjoy!

When you started hunting with Sam and Dean one of the last things you expected to encounter was an Angel, especially after discovering they aren't “harps and halos" like in the books you read as a kid, but instead soldiers and sometimes assholes.

Castiel was an exception to the “asshole” part, he was actually very sweet when it came to you and the boys. Helped you, saved you and cared for you. In that sense, Cas was just like the Angel stories, a guardian of the humans he was in charge of.

And for you, it was fun teaching Cas about humans and how they behaved, helped him when he didn't understand Dean's pop culture references, got him to watch classic movies and listen to music and he was always very keen into doing so, curious and intrigued in what you explained to him.

Those big blue eyes always gave you his full attention, sometimes with that little frown that you started to call “The Angel Frown” while he questioned you about something that, to you, was basic knowledge. You were always as patient as possible with him, always clarifying what you could in words he could understand and that ended up always making him come to you for help.

In conclusion, you and Cas got closer and you started to catch yourself staring when he wasn't looking, admiring his smiles, drowning into his sapphire eyes and wishing that he had just more doubts about how people acted so you could spend more time with him.

You knew, from what Castiel told you, that Angels and feelings, human feelings at least, weren't compatible and that things such as love and romance weren't truly a reality for him and his siblings, they were warriors after all, created to serve their Father and that was it.

Even when Castiel rebelled for the Winchesters, letting go of the “I don't serve men” mindset was difficult but you, Dean and Sam were there for him. You were more understandable then the brothers because you knew Cas was trying his best.

And because you fell for the Angel, but nobody needed to know that.

One night you arrived at the motel room you were staying at, after waving goodnight to Sam and Dean, them going to their separate room.

You opened the door and sighed deeply in exhaustion. It had been a long day of questioning and more questions appearing then those answered. At first you guys thought of a vengeful spirit, then cursed object, then witch. All of those possibilities were still up and it was driving you three insane. People were dying and you felt useless.

Once you closed the door and threw your stuff in the closest table you turned to your bed, where your bag was placed to get some clothes to take a well deserved shower. But, when you looked at your pillow, you noticed a single pink flower sitting over it and you furrowed your eyebrows.

You approached the flower slowly, skeptical about it, your hunter instincts telling you this wasn't good news. You slowly reached for it, as if it could bite your hand off, and picked it up. You analyzed the plant, very confused and grabbed your laptop.

You searched until you found a flower similar to the one you were holding and learned it was a Camellia. You looked between the screen and the flower and you searched up what a pink Camellia meant because, as much as you knew, flowers weren't really something you looked into.

What you found was shocking. According to the internet, a pink Camellia represents admiration and appreciation and Camellias and general represent love and affection. You widen your eyes at the flower in your hands, looking around your empty room as if someone would pop up and explain what this was doing at your bed. Wrong room?

You couldn't think of anybody that could give you this willingly. It definitely wasn't Sam or Dean because, first, they spent the whole day by your side and, second, unless they meant it platonically, the boys didn't see you like that. You loved them and they loved you, of course, but, to them, you were like a sister Dean loves you like he loves Sam, the same way Sam loves you like he loves Dean and vice-versa.

The only person that came to your mind was…No, it couldn't be, he said himself, love for him was basically unachievable but you couldn't help but wonder, even if your rational brain said it was stupid to think Cas would mean that. You smiled at the flower, that tinge of hope lightning inside you.

You looked around the room to look for something you could fill up with water and found an empty beer bottle. That'll do.

You washed the bottle to get the smell of alcohol off and filled it up with water, placing the little flower inside.

The pink color of the petals clashed with the transparent green of the bottle and you smiled at that. It looked cute in a way. You thought, even if this didn't come from someone you knew, you were keeping it, at least the flower.

You left the makeshift vase in your nightstand and took your stuff to the shower, peeling off your suit and your tie on the way, leaving it on the ground as you locked yourself inside the bathroom.

In these moments, Cas thanked his abilities of becoming unseen because you arrived just as he was leaving the Camellia over your pillow. He spent the day researching flowers, finding an interest in how humans always gave them to the people they cared about or to the ones who passed. He wanted to give you one to show you that he cared for you and also as a thank you for being patient with him for a long time.

He always felt happier around you, a warm feeling inside him always seemed to bloom. He felt the need to be close to you, like you were a human magnet. Everytime you looked at him he felt a weird feeling in his stomach, your smile was always something he felt the need to chase, he wanted to see it always in your face. He admired the way your eyes would shine when you were talking about something you liked.

When he saw you placing the flower on the nightstand with a smile he felt that weird feeling in his stomach again. He would do anything to see that look on your face again.

That hunt lasted a week, taking you three too long to figure out it was a witch and even longer to find said witch and to say you guys were fed up was an understatement.

For that long week you dared to say you missed the Angel, you thought about calling him, praying to him, multiple times but what were you going to say when he arrived? Missed you? I just wanted to see you?

Everything you thought sounded too intimate so you discarded the idea of calling him.

But two more flowers appeared on your pillow after that pink Camellia. A Peony that you learned meant for the Chinese something along the lines of “the most beautiful” and a stunning Carnation in a light red shade that represented admiration. At this point you were very intrigued about who was the one giving you the flowers, Castiel still on your mind. You didn't want to get your hopes too high, you were probably overthinking it anyways, making your heart speak louder than your brain.

You were lying on your bed, staring at the tiny bouquet of three flowers given piece by piece to you. It was your last night in that room, Dean having insisted he needed the sleep so as to not crash the Impala from tiredness. You had offered to drive as you weren't as bad as he was but, of course, that was an immediate no from the older brother so all of you settled for one more night.

As you close your eyes and start to fall asleep, a sudden flutter of wings gets your attention. It's dark in the room so you take a peek and for sure it's Cas. You hold back a smile and close your eyes, pretending to be sleeping.

You feel the Angel approaching the bed, his presence making your heart quicken in your chest. From what it sounds like, he's just standing, watching you and you start to feel very nervous.

Castiel on the other hand arrived to see your sleeping form and couldn't help but watch. You looked peaceful, your breathing was calm and you looked…pretty. Cas thought all his father's creations were wonderful but he felt like you could top them all, literally, in your sleep.

He had another little flower in his hand which, to him, had a very self-explanatory name, a Forget-Me-Not.

He spun the blue flower on his fingers, debating if he should leave it inside the vase or besides you, over your pillow.

He approached you and while he was placing the flower next to your head he felt a gentle hand wrap around his wrist and instantly froze on the spot.

You opened your eyes and looked at his near-horrified face. You smiled at him.

“Got you” You said, a little above a whisper and looked at the flower he was holding. That one you knew the name and what it meant and you felt warmth spreading through your cheeks, not just at that one flower, but knowing now that all those flowers you received came from Cas.

“I'm sorry for disturbing you” He said as he retreated his hand and you held the Forget-Me-Not. He was tense, not looking at you.

“So you were the secret admirer leaving me these flowers?” You asked as you slowly sat up on the bed and placed the blue flower inside the bottle with the three others. You placed both your hands over your lap, fidgeting nervously with your fingers. “Why?”

He looked around. What was he supposed to say? Himself barely knew why he was doing this but it felt right so he kept going with it. He noticed that the flower meanings resembled things that he felt or thought of you and he enjoyed collecting them for you, especially after you kept them.

“These flowers all have a meaning behind them” He started “Take them as a thank you for…being helpful with my understanding of human behaviors”

You smiled stupidly at that. The way he said it sounded like something he had rehearsed before coming to you to say it, the words too polite. But yet, that's one of the things you liked about him.

“You didn't have to Cas…They are beautiful, thank you” You said and looked at the flowers again, biting your lip. You felt his eyes on you, it was always intimidating. You knew that it was just the way he was, look right into your eyes while you talk to show you had his full attention, his beautiful blue orbs hypnotizing.

Cas analyzed every aspect of yours as you sat in front of him, his eyes wondering over your figure and his hands moved faster than his thoughts and he reached for your shoulder, his palm traveling from your shoulder blade to the end of your upper arm and back up, tracing a pattern over your skin. He longed to touch you and be closer to you in a way he couldn’t explain so, in this moment, you both alone, he decided to fulfill this wish.

You widened your eyes and looked up at Castiel who was entranced by the movement of his hand, goosebumps flaring up on your skin.

“Cas?” You said and acknowledged your call with a hum “What are you…?”

He finally looked at you, his hand steadied on your shoulder.

“When I’m around you I always feel this need to touch you, be closer and this…” He shakes his head, finding a word to define how he felt. “Warmth comes over me everytime you smile”

His eyes bore through yours and you could only stare back at him, shocked.

“Cas, you’re saying–”

“I think I might love you, Y/N” He interrupted. The way he said it sounded like a confusion, a slight approach, as if he was tiptoeing around the thought, not sure if he wanted to grasp it or just keep his distance.

You were dumbfounded. He sounded so sincere and your heart started to beat faster, his hand over your shoulder felt like it was burning through your skin. It all made sense, the flowers, the way he was always keen on talking to you even when you did most of the talking and he just listened with a faint smile and pure interest, he just didn’t know because he never felt like this before, he didn’t know what loving was like.

You landed a hand over his cheek, your eyes practically watering with an emotional overload at his words. You thumb rubbed the light stubble on his cheek and you pulled him in for a hug. You wanted to kiss him so bad but you were on a baby steps basis with the Angel.

You hugged him tightly, his hands hesitantly wrapping around your frame as you let out a deep breath. When you pulled back, you didn’t pull away completely from him looking between his eyes and his mouth, a giddy smile on your face.

“I think I might love you too Castiel” You said and he widened his own eyes, a light chuckle coming out of you at his reaction.

Your chuckles were cut off by his lips on yours and you gasped in surprise. His mouth was as soft as you expected, his lips moving against your in perfect sync. He was impressively a good kisser, one of his hands gently holding at the back of your neck while the other slid down to your waist.

You felt like a bomb had exploded inside you, a foreign feeling of happiness spreading to every single cell on your body as your arms wrapped around his neck to hold yourself when he sat on the bed, pulling you over his lap, making you yelp.

You both pulled away, your arms still wrapped around each other and he had a light smile on his face. You one hundred per cent had a shocked look on yours, your cheeks hot and breathing heavy.

“Where’d you learn that?” You asked, absolutely knocked by the kiss.

“Dean told me a thing or two” He said and you couldn’t help but laugh, your body shaking against his as he also chuckled. “It seems like I did great?”

You stopped your laughs and looked in his eyes, drowning in their ocean blue. You gave a peck to the corner of his mouth.

“You did amazing” You said as one of your hands played with the hair at the nape of his neck and he pulled you in, the warmth spreading through both of you yet again, never wanting to let go.

A/N: Notes and reblogs encourage me to keep writing, feedback helps me make those writing better. Thank you for reading, XoXo.

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