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askbensolo · 4 months ago

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Hoooooo boy.

Dang I'm real sorry you had to go through that Ben, that sucks all over.

I have to say though, I think you maybe dodged a blaster bolt here.

A relationship ought to be made up of people with good communication and similar values and expectations, and if those arn't there, there really isn't much point to it.

It seems like both of you definitely have a roadblock in communication going, and while that could definitely be overcome, truth is it sounds like Fanny has very different wants/needs/expectations for her future.

She seems to definitely expect there to be some sort of physical relationship eventually. Wether she just expects it due to thinking that's just how "relationships" work, or something she actually wants for herself, just on her own time table, it does sound from what you wrote that she is at least more interested/affected by sex then you are.

It also sounds from her saying she wants to wait for her first kiss to be with someone she's engaged to, and that she's liked you for years but was willing to suffer in silence that she's a romantic at heart. She will want you to do romantic things for her in order to feel loved and appreciated.

And if neither sex nor romance are things you feel like you could ever want, I wouldn't go through with this. Both of you will just end up miserable, and neither of you deserve that.

Best of luck man, and sorry again that you have to deal with this

Hiiiii I'm sober tonight but I had a pretty good day today so I think I can handle this one on jellyfruit sparkling water alone.

So…the idea of romance is beginning to grow on me, even if it’s hard for me to pick out what makes it different from friendship. I can kind of sort it out by asking myself whether the things I’d like to do with her are different from things I’d like to do with my college buddies, and—yeah. Yeah, they are. Sorry, Treeso ol’ pal, but I’m not about to slow-dance in the kitchen with you—not without an unhealthy amount of alcohol, anyway. I’m probably never gonna be as much of a hopeless romantic as Fannie is, but…I think there are things I could learn. I even think I could kiss her one day. Just…just not yet.

But…sex is different. I don’t know if…I can ever do that.

And you're right. That's a whole ‘nother thing to think about in this whole mess. At first, I thought Fannie and I were alike, since she's so…you know…vanilla. But I know she wants to be married, and she wants to have children, and...she probably wants other things too, like you said.

Part of it is just how I've always been. As if there was some kind of developmental stage that just never occurred for me (psychologically, I mean). But I think some of it has to do with...Snoke. He took residence in my mind for years, and although I was sixteen when he first made contact, who knows how long he was there before that? And then eventually he won my trust and affections, and began to meet with me outside of my mind...and even though the memories are fuzzy...I remember certain things. He used to hold me in his arms while I cried. Cradle my face in his hands. Run his fingers through my hair. I kissed him on the cheek once, in the sunken hollow of his scars. Don't get me wrong, he and I never did anything weird together, but—

...No, what am I saying? Everything I just said is super weird. Aren’t I insane, trying to claim it wasn't weird I kissed an ancient raisin freak on his nasty, crusty face when I was a teenage boy—

But it was also the things he did to me mentally that stick with me. He used to probe my thoughts at night, and even though he could do that without actually touching me, it was...just as bad as it sounds. I remember being scared and skinny and sixteen, lying on my back and staring at the ceiling, trying to keep still while he entered my head. Trying to relax so that it wouldn’t hurt as much. I’d feel his presence pushing against the perimeter of my mind, harder and harder, until my resistance snapped, like a rubber band stretched to its limit, and then it was like my soul ruptured and bled out all around me on the bed while his cold bony hands were feeling around my brain, and pulling stuff out, and examining things, and rearranging them, while I kind of went into shock and laid there frozen with tears streaming down my face and waited for him to be done—

Actually no I don't want to talk about this anymore. Throwing up in my mouth just a little bit.

...Sparkling water break. Ahh, the refreshing taste of carbonated water that was once in the same room as someone imagining a jellyfruit.

But, yeah…I just can’t think about being naked with someone, without being reminded of how that felt.

Um—I wasn’t physically naked with him. Again, I hate that that’s something I legitimately need to clarify. Just…naked in every single other sense of the word, to the point that I may as well have been.

And…it’s hard for me sometimes, because it sort of makes me feel like…like I’m not a guy or something. I mean, I know I’m a guy, I just mean…most guys aren’t afraid of sex. Quite the opposite, in fact. You remember I was homeschooled, right? Well, I learned a lot of new things in college. And I learned to pretend like I wasn’t afraid, you know, when the fellas were hanging out and swapping stories, and I’d just sit there, and try to laugh at the appropriate times…

I kind of told Treeso a little bit, since we were close buds. Not about Snoke specifically, but just…that something bad had happened to me when I was a teenager. Treeso was a solid dude, despite presenting like your typical frat bro, and he started taking me to the gym and joked that he was gonna make sure I got jacked so no one could ever hurt me again. I don’t think Snoke would be deterred by my biceps…but I did get a lot more confident.

And more physically attractive. I mean. Come on. I know I look good. I like looking good. But it never changed how I felt about…you know.

So…yeah. I never really worked on addressing this particular little trauma, since A) um…AUGHHHHHHHGHHGHHH and B) it didn’t seem like a problem, since I was so sure I was gonna be single forever. When this whole thing with Fannie started, I thought about it only a little...and part of me was like, hey, maybe she’d be okay with not...really...doing that?

But…that’s kind of a huge ask, isn’t it. It doesn’t make sense to me, but sex is kind of a big deal to most people, huh.

...Who knows. Maybe it would have been to me, too, if I hadn’t been…if Snoke hadn’t…

...I mean...what if this isn't just "how I am"? What if he made me this way, and now there's just a crucial part of my adult self that never got to form, that's broken, that I’ll never experience the same way other people do, that I can never get back, and...that I can never offer her…

...Oh Force. The sparkling water cannot save me. I know I like her. I know I love her. I'm even pretty sure now that I'm in love with her. But everything's all wrong, and I'm all wrong, I'm so screwed up, I'm screwed up in ways I've never fully realized, and probably screwed up in ways I don't even know yet—I mean look at me I’m not even a real man I mean what an absolute loser how can I look so damn good without a shirt but totally freak at the thought of getting in bed?? I'm such a weak kriffing beta failure I freaking hate myself and I bet she’d only end up hating me too and—and—and—okay, calm down, Ben, calm down, keep it chill…

…Okay. So. Clearly, this will not be my last time thinking about this. I am very tempted to throw it out of my brain and never think about it again, but…no. This feels…important to me.

Note to self. Need to buy more sparkling water.

#askbensolo #written #snoke #raisin trauma #ben and sex #i went back and reread some of the snoke arc for this. disgusting. y'all let me get away with that?#story event: an awkward situation 2 #treeso #i got rid of treeso because he was underdeveloped and i didn't find him interesting.#and because I didn’t want to learn to draw Gungans lmao #but the more ben talks about him the more i'm like...aw what a cool guy #I mean. a wholesome frat bro gungan dude who was Ben Solo’s college bestie?#the potential is SO there

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zepskies · 3 months ago

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Lost on You - Part 5

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader

Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.

AN: We’re going deeper and darker on this one, with an ending you might not expect...

Word Count: 5.5K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. TW: attempted sexual assault (not successful), violence, character death, drug use, and a twist.

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Part 5: Eminence Front

Your last conversation with your mother was on a Sunday morning, in hospice.

You sat at her bedside and held her hand. Chris and your father were downstairs in the hospital food court, ordering sandwiches. You hadn’t had much of an appetite for three days.

“I had your father call the whole family so they could watch the music video with you and Soldier Boy,” your mom said. She wore a proud, if weak smile. “He even recorded a few tapes of it. He sent one to your aunt, another to your cousins, and another to our friends Leah and Stan.”

“Pretty sure that’s illegal piracy, Mom,” you said with a laugh.

“I don’t care. You’re my daughter, and you’ve worked incredibly hard to get here,” she said. Her eyes misted over a bit in memory. “We’ve all worked hard.”

You stilled at that. You didn’t know what memories she had filtering through her head, but you were sure your perspective behind the lens was…different.

In your mind’s eye, you saw yourself at twelve years old. Chris had been pestering you all day, as big brothers were wont to do sometimes. With a slap on his arm, you’d screamed at him to leave you alone.

He didn’t speak to you for a whole month. He didn’t go to your piano recital or your choir concert, where you had the best solo. He didn’t talk to you until you touched him again, grabbing his arm, pleading with him.

"Please, whatever I did, I'm sorry. Just talk to me!"

He startled as if he’d woken up from a dream.

Your parents had shared a look, and they’d known then that their gamble had worked.

You remembered being sat down by your mother and told that they had spent their entire life’s savings to make you a hero. So you were going to spend the rest of your young life training to be one.

“We’re investing in your future, but we’re also investing in ours.”

You remembered sleepover invites rejected and summer plans canceled on your behalf. Your mother used her meager retirement fund to sign you up for vocal lessons from a former opera singer. Your high school football coach father drilled you to condition your body like an athlete.

You never had a moment that wasn’t scheduled. You were always exhausted, taking whatever “supplements” your parents gave you to keep you going. (Often it was Adderall, until it started giving you insomnia, among other delightful side effects.)

You were miserable. Then again, you’d be surprised by what you could get used to.

The end goal was always getting into Payback. It was where you’d garner the most fame and make the most money, and therefore, make the most returns on your parents’ investments.

So your father later took out a loan to get you some basic combat training from an ex-Vought employee. Your parents wanted you to be well-rounded and prepared for anything when you got onto the team—and it was always when.

If was not part of the story.

Any small commercials and modelling gigs you landed throughout middle school and high school helped pay for your family’s bills, and later for college, where you double majored in Vocal Performance and Marketing. You would learn how to become your own brand.

Through it all, you always remembered what your mom had said to you on the set of your first commercial. You were crying because the hours were long and you missed your friends, and even your brother.

“Come on, let’s wipe those tears. You don’t want to smudge your makeup,” she’d said. When you couldn’t be consoled, she guided you over to a quieter corner of the set. “Listen, sweetheart. Don’t let them see you upset. You'll get a reputation for being difficult to work with.”

“I don’t care! I don’t want to do this anymore,” you said, sniffling badly as you scrubbed at your eyes. Your mother sighed sharply.

“You’re just starting out. Of course there are going to be growing pains,” she said. “Showbusiness is a cutthroat world, and yes, you’re so young. Maybe too young.”

She wiped your face with gentler hands, then she laid them on your shoulders and made sure you met her eyes.

“But you’re going to be better prepared than most superheroes. You can literally read men. You know what’s in their hearts, and you can control them. As a woman in this world, do you know how damn powerful that is?” she said.

She squeezed your shoulders.

“That’s why you’ll be smarter than any of them, and you’ll only show the world what you want them to see.”

What you want them to see…

“We don’t have to talk about that right now,” you said at last.

Your mom nodded and stroked your hand. Her eyes fell closed in rest. She looked so small and frail in her bed.

“I’m so, so proud of you,” she said. “Always remember that.”

Your lower lip trembled, and your eyes stung. You couldn’t help but feel hollow. What was there to be proud of? You’d failed. All your hard work was meant to give your family a better life, not…this.

“You’re so beautiful and talented,” she continued. “And you’ll get your father out from under these medical bills I put on him, won’t you?”

Deep in your soul, a painful ache twinged.

You ignored it and nodded in agreement.

“I’ll take care of Dad, don’t worry.”

Your mother died the next morning. You wrote a statement about her passing to explain your absence to your fans. It went through Madelyn Stillwell and Arthur before they released the press release and even had it covered in Vought News. Then you spent the next week entrenched in funeral arrangements with your father and brother.

When you eventually returned to Vought Tower after the funeral, it felt like another part of you had chipped off.

Your room was filled with flowers and gifts from your fans, which managed to make you wide-eyed, and even tearfully touched. So this was the power of fame, then?

But there was one vase filled with beautiful scarlet roses. Attatched was a handwritten note:

Welcome home.

You thought you recognized the scrawl. A small smile graced your lips.

You gave into the desire to venture up to the penthouse floor, and knock on Ben’s door. He opened it himself. He was dressed down for once in the afternoon, in a normal sweater rolled up to his elbows and tucked into his slacks. Once he saw you, he was a little surprised.

You held up the note for his view. “Was this you?”

He smiled slightly, but he didn’t answer you. He just welcomed you inside. You followed him into the living room area and sat heavily on the couch. An album was playing on his record player. You recognized Sinatra’s smooth voice singing “My Way.”

“You want a drink?” Ben asked.

“Whiskey, neat,” you replied. He rose a brow, but he fulfilled your request.

While he was busy, you grabbed his forgotten half a blunt from the ashtray on the coffee table, and you lit up. You didn’t often partake in drugs because you didn’t like being out of your lucid mind. You preferred being in control.

Today was different. You needed a distraction. Maybe that was why you were here to begin with.

You accepted the glass he handed to you and took a generous sip, though you coughed at the burn on the way down. And you took a puff, the smoke irritating your throat even more. You practically coughed up half a lung, until he sat down beside you and reached out his hand. You passed the blunt back to him. You two traded off hits until it was more than halfway down to the roach, and he eventually put it out on the ashtray.

“My offer still stands, you know,” he said.

You turned to him. Even in your “enlightened” state, you could feel his intentions. The way he roamed your body with his eyes was unmistakable, but just then, you had a moment of clarity. You couldn’t be bothered to play this game, or hide your true thoughts for that matter. You smiled to yourself, and you stood.

Ben got up with you, trying to gauge your reaction.

“Thank you,” you said, “for finally showing me who you really are.”

His lips slowly pulled into a frown. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“My mom died,” you said. “I know you knew that, but you couldn’t even muster up a basic ‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ or whatever the fuck.”

You even laughed through the spark of tears. You wiped at your face. “This place is exactly what I thought it would be.”

The man was silent while you finished the drink in one long gulp. You slammed the glass on his counter, and you left his apartment.

It wasn’t the first time Ben watched you walk away from him, but despite his outward stoicism, it was the first time he felt the sting of it.

You knew it would be difficult at Vought, but you were finding it more and more challenging to keep focused as the months went by.

On one mission, Ben threw a man out of a three-story apartment. He lived, by some miracle, but shattered almost every bone in his body.

On another, Black Noir choke-slammed an escaped convict so hard, her esophagus caved in. And it was a good day if the TNT Twins even zapped the right culprit.

You were increasingly wary of the collateral damage and violence you were being complicit in, just by being there. You had to keep reminding yourself of why you were here. You needed to take care of your father, who was still swimming in your mother’s medical bills and funeral costs. You needed to prove to yourself that you could do this, with or without Ben’s help.

Even so, a day you were called to a full team mission made you more anxious than excited.

It was a drug ring that the police had been trying to dismantle for nearly a decade: Los Reyes. They were the "kings of cocaine," and they were brutal in their retaliations, locked in a turf war with one of the Italian mafias. As Stan Edgar had explained, the police were grateful for any help that Payback could provide.

You guys were sent to a warehouse in Hell’s Kitchen. According to law enforcement intel, it was the base of the Reyes gang's operations.

Infiltrating it was the easy part. Countess blasted right through the front doors, revealing your entire team to the group of men huddled around entire tables and crates filled with product.

When a man aimed a gun at you, Ben threw his shield. It hit the man, who then crashed into a support beam and broke his back in half. Your eyes went wide in horror at seeing his lifeless ones. You gaped up at Ben.

“Was that really necessary?” you asked in alarm.

"Would you rather get shot?” he said coolly.

The others picked off a few men in the room, but the rest of the gang scattered into other rooms within the large building. Ben barked commands for who should go in which direction.

“Sirena, you’re with Swatto. Head east towards the alley and cut off any rats,” he commanded.

You wanted to take issue with being partnered with Swatto. You glanced over at him. After how you compelled him a few months ago, he still had a grudge against you as well. But you two knew better than to argue with Soldier Boy on a mission.

You and your partner ducked out the east side into the alley. Sure enough, you saw blood splatters on the wall from a handprint, and drips of blood leading down the concrete path. After sharing a nod, you and Swatto followed the line of blood.

You turned the corner into a dusty construction site, where a new skyscraper was only partially built. Some walls were up along with the foundation, but it was mostly dirt, bare concrete walls, and piles of brick.

When you turned a corner, you and Swatto stopped short as bullets rained your way.

“Oh, fuck!” Swatto shouted. He pulled out his gun and decided to fly above. You heard more shots and men screaming, and then, it was quiet. You cocked your own gun, though you hoped you didn’t have to use it. The problem with your powers was you needed to be close enough to touch someone to actually compel them, man or woman.

Your last resort was your actual siren song, a power you rarely used. Mainly because it was lethal to any man who heard it. For that reason, it had to be your in case of emergency break glass tactic.

So you crept around the corner to see what Swatto had done. You were surprised to find that he fought well. He managed to kill a few of them, but one large man was still alive. He was on his knees in the dirt with his hands folded behind his head.

“See? Ain’t so fuckin’ tough now, huh?” Swatto taunted. “Get ready to get fucked in the ass in jail, Paco.”

You grimaced in disgust. “All right, that’s enough. Just—”

Before you could realize what was happening, the man raised up from the ground and swept the gun from Swatto’s hands. It flew across the clearing and hit the wall, setting the gun off. A bullet ricocheted and grazed Swatto in the side.

“Aw, fuck! I’m fucking hit!” he yelled in alarm. His wings expanded from his back, and he raised off the ground in flight. Your eyes widened.

“Where the hell are you going?” you shouted.

“I’m hit! I need a hospital!” His voice grew smaller as he flew away like a fucking coward.

It left you alone with a man twice your size. He seized you up with a smirk.

“Hey, baby,” he said. “You’re the new one, right?”

You raised your gun and fired, but you were too late. He evaded and grabbed the gun from your hands. You held your ground after the first punch, but the second and third made your legs shake. You were more durable than the average human, and you were well trained. Unfortunately, you didn’t have super strength like most of your teammates.

You blocked when you could and gave blows of your own, but this man was large enough that it didn’t slow him for long. He wore a sweatshirt with long sleeves, so you couldn’t easily compel him with a touch.

Okay, this warrants an emergency, you thought in alarm. When you opened your mouth to sing, he shot out a sharp blow to your throat. Maybe he thought you were going to scream for help, but it had its intended effect of choking you into silence.

He grabbed you and proceeded to beat you down, until you felt the sharp breaking of ribs and blood and dirt in your mouth. Every time you tried to slip away or get to your feet and escape, he knocked you back down. He was toying with you, and having fun with it too. You could sense his sick enjoyment.

But then, you felt his intentions shift. Darker, and more carnal. A more intense fear coiled in your stomach, rising up into your throat. A gasp got stuck there as you tried harder to crawl away.

He grabbed your ankle and dragged you back towards him. He took your wrists when you tried to claw at his eyes, or even just touch his face to try and enforce your power over his.

Just a scrap of skin. That’s all you need.

A whimper escaped you as you struggled, but you kneed him hard between the legs. That managed to stop him for a moment as he grunted and cursed. He got a hold of a meaty hand around your neck. Your eyes glowed in desperation.

Suddenly, the man’s weight lifted off you.

You panted for breath and raised yourself up on your elbow. You watched with wide eyes as Ben slammed your attacker’s face into the dirt until he couldn’t breathe. Ben glanced at you, taking in the sight of your bloody face and cut lip, your arm wrapped around your battered ribs.

His frown deepening in displeasure, he bent the man’s arm until it broke in at least two places. His howls of pain echoed into the night. Ben cut it off by twisting the man’s neck, until it released a loud crack.

He threw the body to the ground in disgust. He barely even wiped his gloves before he stood straighter. Then he went back to you.

“You all right?” he asked gruffly.

You stared up at him with tears shining in your eyes. You tried to answer, but it hurt your throat. It was also painful for you to move your body. You tasted blood in your mouth and knew it had dribbled down your chin.

With a rough exhale through his nose, Ben lowered down and slid his hands underneath your body. You cringed and cried out when he moved you, but you were grateful. You were embarrassed. And you were exhausted.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you folded your arms over your battered middle. You couldn't help but lay your head against his chest.

The rest of the team was waiting at the other end of the clearing, except for Swatto. Even Countess was quiet as she watched Ben carry you out of the construction site.

You spent a couple of days in the hospital. There you were surrounded by Vought security fielding off any journalists or tabloids, and you were accompanied by your dad and brother.

Chris especially was angry for you, not to mention worried, but you tried to hide your pain and reassure them that you would be okay. This was just par for the course when taking down the bad guys.

Yeah, that one sounded hollow, even to you.

You were grateful when you got out of the hospital and were sent back to the Tower. Even so, the doctor had you mostly on bedrest until your ribs healed up. You weren’t proud of it, but you wallowed in your embarrassment and a bit of self-pity while you watched a marathon of Cheers and ate from a box of assorted chocolates. You dug around for your favorites, but you kept getting the weird shitty filling ones.

“Sometimes you wanna go where everybody knows your name, and they’re always glad you came,” sang the TV show theme song. “You wanna be where you can see, our troubles are all the same. You wanna be where everybody knows your name…”

“Bullshit,” you muttered aloud. Such was your grouchiness that you had half a mind to change the channel. This godforsaken sitcom was too damn cheery, no matter how much you loved Ted Danson’s fine, rugged ass.

God. Maybe I do have a type.

That was when a knock at the door threatened to disrupt your solitude.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me.”

You’d now recognize that smooth, deep voice anywhere. Sighing, you closed the box of chocolates and hid them under your pillow before you turned off the TV.

“Come in,” you said.

Ben stepped into your apartment and soon found you in your room. It was the first time he’d ever been in here, and he took a subtle look around. He wore his suit and tactical gear.

“Just come from a mission?” you asked.

He nodded and approached your bed. He smiled slightly.

“Eating your feelings in Whitman’s, huh?” he teased, tapping his nose. He could probably smell the chocolate.

You blushed and crossed your arms on reflex, but you grimaced when the motion made your ribs twinge sharply. You made a sound of discomfort and lowered your arms back to your sides. You shifted in the bed as slowly as you could. You’d been in this position for a while.

“How’re you holding up?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m peachy,” you groused. When you looked up at him though, you realized that he hadn't needed to come visit you. He was here of his own free will…and there was something you had yet to say to him. You sighed and met him with sincerity.

“Look…thank you, for saving me,” you said.

Ben inclined his head. He lowered down and sat beside you on the edge of your bed.

“You may not like how I run things here, but this is the way of it,” he said, holding your gaze. “This is the real fucking world. If you’re going to stay here, you need to get with that program, or this place is going to chew you up and spit you out.”

That fell between you two for a moment. The more you turned his words over in your mind, the more you realized that he was right, to a point. If you stayed, this was your life. You couldn’t keep handwringing. You had to be smarter.

“I’m sorry, I’m not looking very camera ready,” you said eventually. You meant it to be joking, but your voice was heavy. “I wouldn’t blame you for averting your eyes.”

You half expected him to make a joke about your black eye and torn lip. But to your surprise, Ben picked up your hand with a kind of gentleness. He raised the back of it up to his lips for a kiss. He gave you a reserved smile.

“Rest up,” he said.

He got up and strode out of your apartment. Not for the first time, he left you feeling unbalanced…and this time warm.

It took a few weeks for you to fully heal. You agreed to do an interview with Jason Carver, the anchor of Vought News. It was a bit intimidating being in yet another studio, and this was live.

The cameras aren’t there. This is just a stage like any other. You’re just…having a conversation, you coached yourself. You sat in an uncomfortable leather chair across from Jason at his desk.

When he got the green light from the producer, he kicked off the show by introducing you as his special guest.

“Can I just say, Sirena, we’re all very glad to see you’re all right,” he said, with a very convincing note of sincerity. Your abilities allowed you to read the truth.

Only show them what you want them to see.

You gave him a grateful smile.

“Thanks, Jason. I appreciate that. It’s just…hazards of the job description, you know?” you said. “But I’m doing much better, and I’m very thankful that my team was there to support me.”

“Yes, the rest of Payback really stepped up to not only apprehend your attacker, but round up the entire Reyes gang. Is that right?” he said.

You nodded, reading the teleprompter. You were meant to go on a mini monologue about how great your team was, and how grateful you were to be a part of it. It was a script approved by Madelyn, and even Stan Edgar.

You paused, glancing over to where Arthur and Madelyn stood in the dark with the rest of the crew. They were both looking at you encouragingly, but expectant.

You took a steadying breath, and you decided to go a bit off-script.

“Well, actually, it was Soldier Boy who saved me,” you said. Jason’s brows rose at your shift in direction, but he reacted with all due interest.

“Really?” he prodded.

“Yes, he did,” you said. The memories of that night filtered through your mind with harrowing detail, including the way Ben stepped in and brutally handled that man. “He didn’t even hesitate. He just threw himself into the fray…and when it was over, he carried me to the hospital himself.”

That part wasn’t exactly true. He’d carried you over to a Vought-owned SUV, and the director of the camera crew drove you over to the hospital. You decided to gloss over that detail, and many others.

“Wow,” Jason said. He shook his head in wonder. “He truly lives up to the legend, doesn’t he?”

You smiled. “He’s more than that. Believe it or not, Soldier Boy was the first one to take me under his wing. He knew I was new to the city, so he guided me all over New York to see the sights like a tourist. Stuff I’m sure he’s seen millions of times, like Top of the Rock and Times Square. Oh, and he was also very gracious when my nephew came to visit. Got me some major brownie points for ‘Best Aunt in the World.’”

That earned you a congenial smile from your host. Your expression faded with a kind of weight in your heart.

“Ever since I got here, he’s been the one to tell it like it is, with that deep, authoritative voice of his,” you said, laughing a little when you tried to imitate Ben’s voice. It got you a laugh, even from those in the studio. “In a way, he’s the one who’s looked out for me the most. I’m very grateful for Soldier Boy, and of course for the rest of my team.”

When you finished, Jason nodded and clapped along with everyone else in the studio.

“Well, that’s just wonderful. Well said,” he said, and he looked straight into the camera with two fingers poised at his temple. “Soldier Boy, if you’re watching, we all appreciate you. And we salute you.”

Ben watched the clip from his living room with a small, incredulous smile on his face.

He wiped the remnants of white powder from his nose and sneezed. Blinking the bleariness out of his eyes, he refocused on the screen while you talked about him. He knew you had to be playing it up for Jason and the cameras, but you also seemed so sincere.

“He’s more than that.”

After the segment was over, he enjoyed the climax of his high while sitting back on his plush sofa. He tossed up an old baseball from his collection up towards the ceiling, this one signed by Babe Ruth. He caught it when gravity pulled it back down towards his face.

That was how Donna found him when she let herself into his apartment. She was out of her suit and wearing a little red dress, one of his old favorites. She graced him with a sultry smile.

“Busy?” she asked.

“Evidently,” he said.

She pouted, almost like a little girl. She went to him and curled herself under his arm and against his chest, draping a smooth thigh over his.

“I miss you,” she purred.

He smiled wryly and turned off the TV.

“Really now?” he drawled. “Because by my calculations it’s been…what, a few months since we’ve fucked?”

Donna paused, the smile slipping from her face.

“And I’m not counting that hand job a couple weeks back. That shit was pitiful, and a little chafing,” he said.

For the past few months, he’d been wracking his brain to remember what it was that had attracted him to this woman, besides the obvious outer packaging. He knew the difference now.

In the beginning, she idolized him. Worshipped him. Loved him. These days, she only came to him when she wanted something, and he had gotten bored. Bored of her.

As if sensing his shift, Donna moved her leg off his lap and sat up with a frown.

“Well, then let me fix it,” she said, as she slid a hand up his thigh. Suddenly she was all too willing to use those red-painted lips to service him.

Ben couldn’t help but envision those lips as yours, a sinful red, while your mouth did sinful things. He’d gotten off more than once to the thought of it alone, ever since he shot that goddamn music video with you.

So he grabbed Donna’s wandering hand and looked at her coolly.

“Look, for whatever reason, I know you’re not happy,” he said, waving dismissively with his other hand. “Neither of us are. So let’s just stop wasting time.”

Her eyes widened. “What’re you saying?”

Ben’s brows furrowed. “Am I speaking fucking English? It’s time to call it quits, sweetheart.”

Donna’s jaw worked as she fought to keep herself under control. He had a feeling she’d be angry. She always was a little spitfire.

Her body was coiled like a spring when she withdrew her hand from his and got to her feet. She gave him an icy look.

“This isn’t going to last,” she claimed, with a prideful tilt of her chin. “In a month, a week, you’ll get tired of her. And you’ll remember that I’m the one who looks best by your side.”

Ben huffed in amusement before he laid back again. He continued to toss up his baseball.

“Keep telling yourself that,” he said dismissively.

Donna let loose an aggravated breath, but she kept most of her reaction inside. She turned on her heel, prideful as ever, and left his apartment.

When her fingers landed on the doorknob, however, she turned back for just a moment. Silence greeted her.

It wasn’t until then that her tears finally bubbled over.

Days later, a knock on your door drew your attention out of pulling on some jeans. You were intending to go on a walk through the city, take some time to get out of the Tower and just be you for a change.

That had better not be Madelyn at the door again. She had chastised you for going off-script at the studio twice already. She made the point that she and Stan had gone over those talking points for weeks, and agreed that framing your rescue as a team effort would cover Swatto as well.

He was still laid up with a broken leg, long after the scrape of the bullet had healed. He was tight-lipped about how he’d broken said leg, but you’d heard from Tommy that he’d shattered it…somehow.

Arthur had smoothed things over about your adlib though. He pointed out that talking positively about Soldier Boy helped the whole team. He was the leader, after all.

So yeah, you hoped this visit wasn’t another passive aggressive dress down from the head of PR. You sighed and went over to get the door. You were thoroughly surprised to see Ben.

And a Ben that was wearing a regular suit, for that matter. He looked like he’d stepped out of a Hugo Boss catalogue, steeped in charcoal gray with a long black coat draped over his arm. Your mouth parted in soft shock, especially when he produced a single rose from behind his back.

You took it with tentative fingers and a blush rising hotly in your cheeks.

“Okay, what—”

“Let me take you out,” he said. “One night. You’ll get to see what it’s like to be with the most famous man in the world.”

What an opening line that was. You sensed he was in full Charm City mode, complete with a suave smile. Yours was more amused, even though you twisted the flower's soft petals lightly on your chin in contemplation.

After a few seconds to think, you gave him a patient look.

“Ben, nothing’s changed for me. I told you, I–”

“Countess and I are done, for real this time,” he said.

Once again, you were taken by surprise—mostly because he was telling the truth. You felt it.

Your brows knitted together in confusion. “When did this happen?”

“Recently,” he shrugged. “But like I said, it hasn’t been working for a while. It was a mutual thing.”

You weren’t so sure about that, but…

This is what I wanted, you reminded yourself. In fact, it had been half what you’d hoped for when you went off-script. You just couldn’t believe it had worked this well, so soon. As much as you probably shouldn’t, part of you began to feel bad for manipulating him. For lying to him.

But it’ll be good for my career.

“…Okay,” you agreed, glancing down at your plain shirt and jeans. “Just give me some time to change.”

He raised a brow. “How much time?”

You gave him a slightly cheeky smile. “An hour, and I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

He sighed, but he agreed.

“Just don’t keep me waiting all fucking day,” he said.

“Come on. What’s a little delayed gratification?” you teased. Then you gave him a more sincere smile. “I’ll see you later.”

Ben nodded, with some added charm in the look he gave you in return.

You slipped back into your apartment and shut the door. You paused there when a thought struck you.

Shit, now what am I going to wear?

AN: Did you see that one coming?

A lot of darker angst and drama in this one, sorry for that. But I think you may like what's coming up...

Next Time:

You slid your hand over his on the table. You felt him stiffen slightly, his body tensing up at your touch. You frowned when you saw the glint of wariness cross his face.

“I won’t compel you again, Ben. I promise,” you said. As long as you don’t give me a reason to.

Your hand traveled up his arm, soothing along his neck, your palm finally resting against his cheek. His green eyes stared into yours.

Soon enough, his wariness bled away into desire.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 6

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Series Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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If you would like to follow along as I post each chapter, please follow my side blog @zepskieswrites with notifications on so you don't miss out. 💚

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@stoneyggirl2 @sl33pylilbunny @spnfamily-j2 @mostlymarvelgirl @artemys-ackles

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year ago

Text

double check

kinktober, day twenty-three

warnings: dark!professor!ben solo x student!reader, smut, dubcon/noncon, manipulation, power imbalance, accidentally sending your teacher a sex tape, flashing, stripping, masturbation, altogether just toxic and terrible and so so wrong behaviour but it's also a kinda hot fantasy pick a struggle

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023

If only you had double checked. If only you had not been in a hurry and sent your professor the wrong file, the worst possible file ever, then you wouldn’t have been in this situation.

Your boyfriend went to a college across the country, so in attempts to combate the daunting reality that was a long-distance relationship, the two of you had made a habit of leaning on technology and such to help fill in the holes and make it feel less excruciating to be apart.

One of those holes conveniently came in the form of a video of you, in bed before classes, sunrays bathing your form as you got yourself off for him.

If only that hadn’t been the video you had accidentally sent to your professor instead of the 5 minute tape he had asked you to turn in, proving that you had learned enough so far in the course to be able to talk freely about it.

“Show me,” professor Solo simply said, leaning back in his chair.

“Excuse me, sir?” you fiddled with the sleeve of your cardigan, wishing that you had just sat down and not awkwardly continued to stand in the middle of his office.

“You just told me that you didn’t wanna fail the class, correct?”

“Yes,” you answered apprehensively.

“And that you’d do anything to make that so?”

“Yes, but Mr Solo, I was thinking more in the lines of extra credit or-“

“You’ve already given me more than a peek, this is nothing compared to that,” he coldly cut you off as his eyes shamelessly wandered, “or you could just walk out that door and fail this class, choice is yours.”

Feeling your heart all the way in your throat, you pondered, “…you just want me to flash you, nothing else?”

“I’m not gonna touch you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Utterly mystified as to how he could be so composed while asking you such things, you continued, “…and if I do, then you won’t fail me in this class?”

“Might even fudge the numbers a bit and have you come out on top,” he shrugged, piecing gaze never straying far.

Staring up at the dark ceiling, you took a deep breath and uttered, “…alright,” before your fingers nervously began to fiddle with your cardigan, slowly peeling it off and hooking it in the crook of your elbow for safekeeping as you then lifted your shirt up just enough for him to peek at your soft bra.

“You can do better than that,” he scoffed, his eyes practically burning holes in your brassiere, “turn around and bend over, let me see what you’ve got under that skirt.”

You needed this class to graduate… so like a stubborn pill, you turned around and braced on the chair behind you. Squeezing your eyes shut as you arched your back, feeling the crisp air hit your bottom. Your eyes swiftly snapped open once more as the sound of a zipper resonated throughout the room, “what are you doing?” you spun back around, skirt twirling around your thighs, “I thought you said-”

Hand down his pants, he nearly rolled his eyes, “I said I wouldn’t touch you, not that I wouldn’t make the most of this, now get back to it.”

#lea’s writing #kinktober 2023 #star wars smut #ben solo smut #kylo ren smut #ben solo x reader #ben solo x you #ben solo x y/n #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren x y/n #kylo ren fanfic #kylo ren au #kylo ren imagine #ben solo fanfic #ben solo imagine #professor!ben solo #professor!kylo ren

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inklore · 1 year ago

Text

garage rooftop

premise: the lines of friendship or something more grow more blurry the longer your eyes move from each mole, his cheek bones, his dark eyes, his lips. and you really don't understand why the two of you hadn't become something more ages ago.

pairing: ben solo x (f)reader

word count: 1k

contents: college au, fluff like this is nothing but fluff with one sexual innuendo and that's it, friends to lovers, quick mention of han being a lackluster dad sorry it's for the plot.

note: let's ignore that i actually wrote this back in april and just never got around to editing it but now that i'm in my driver era i had to come back to it. the title is from this song that i highly rec listening to while reading <3

The way his face morphs into something that was once joyful and silly—the blissed high that paints your cheeks red from laughing too hard over being overheated from how weightless it feels to be laying on the roof of your apartment building. The space decked out with rugs, blankets, and cushions from past and current tenants, mostly college kids like yourselves.

Making it the perfect place to get high and look up at the sky at night. The city lights outshine the stars, but the clouds—and the strain of ganja Poe recently snagged from his dealer—give the same ethereal effect.

“Why haven’t we ever...”

“Ever what, Solo? Dated?” There’s a pause between your words, and a slow, sly smirk moves across your lips as you look over at him. “Fucked?”

The blush painting his cheeks quickly moves down to his neck as he shakes his head in laughter, biting his lower lip to hide whatever feelings are currently making him look like a shy schoolboy—something he was far from.

It’s the “both. Why haven’t we done any of it?” That makes you both fall silent. That makes the joyfulness fade and something else fill the air the longer the silence spreads between the two of you.

And it’s not the weirdest question or the wildest thing that’s come out of either of your mouths.

It’s a question that makes you wonder, why? Seriously why? With the longer you stare at him, the more you take in the nervous tick of his chiseled jaw. The way his dark hair falls into his face each time he laughs and he has to continuously push it out of his eyes. How the crook of his nose looks oddly kissable and more attractive than you’ve noticed it before when it’s this close to your face.

When the haze from the weed is making your body feel limitless and swoony.

It’s a feeling that has you turning on your side. Putting a hand under your head shifts your body closer to Ben’s. Smiling when he doesn’t act phased in mirroring you, his body moving in the same motions and position as yours. Now putting the two of you so close that you can feel his breath hit your face, and the space between your legs barely exists without some part of him touching it.

The two of you had been friends for forever, it seemed. Stuck in the woes of academia, making your parents proud does that to you. Makes you lose track of time and forget how the two of you became friends after getting into an argument over a Hamlet book in the library.

A fight Finn quickly broke up, but Poe enthusiastically cheered on.

The lot of you—Rose and Rey included—became inseparable after that day. Something that didn’t have a timestamp or expiration in your mind. It just happened.

And now you have four best friends, and you’re coming to the conclusion that you’ve possibly liked one more than that. The lines of friendship or something more growing more and more blurry the longer your eyes moved from each mole, each scar, and each strand of hair. His cheek bones, his dark eyes, his lips. And you really don't understand why the two of you hadn’t become something more ages ago.

“Have you wanted to?”

“The fact that you’re asking me tells me that you’ve never noticed. I’m not that subtle.”

“Nose stuck in a book at all times, Ben, not subtle?” You make a sarcastic face, “yeah, who would ever think you’re subtle?”

His knee nudges your thigh as his cheeks rise in that smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the edges. “You think I’d let Poe or Rey borrow my stuff? Steal my takeout from the fridge—which I know you do—without consequence?”

“In their defense, Poe and Rey have three late library books from two years ago and only you and I like the takeout you get from the bodega on the corner, so…it’s not really a fair asses-”

The squeal that comes from his fingers digging into your sides, pinching the skin at your hip and rib bones, fills the air and knocks the wind out of you all at the same time as you realize the position the two of you have wrestled yourselves in.

Strands of dark hair moving against your forehead, your fingers instinctively reach up to brush the strands from both of your faces. Ben’s lips so close to yours that all it would take is a heavy breath and you’d be kissing. The relaxing rhythm of your heart now feeling like a hammer in your chest.

Ben’s fingers run along your jawline, resting at your chin.

“What if we did?” He asks. Searches your face for any reaction or indication that the subject should be changed. That he should stop asking, and the two of you should move away and pretend like this never happened. Go back to how things were—which was clearly not subtle and most definitely screaming ‘I’m in love with my best friend’.

“Why have you never asked until now?” You answer with a question.

“Losing my best friend is not the traumatic life experience I’d like to put on my resume beside divorced parents and an absent father.” He jokes, his smile playful, as the pad of his thumb draws small circles against the skin of your jaw.

“No wonder you’re unemployed.” The two of you laugh, breaths mingling in the joys of this moment. Of the jokes that come easy and the touches that seem to come even easier. But then there's silence, and you’re leaning closer to him, a feathering touch of your lips against his as you murmur, “maybe you should stop being so afraid, Ben Solo. And have me.”

And if you’ve ever felt like there was something missing—some cataclysmic event in your life that could rewire your nervous system and make you feel like you’ve been barely making it, your heart barely beating and keeping you alive: Ben’s mouth is the puzzle piece as he brings your mouths together in a bruising kiss.

#ben solo x reader #ben solo fluff #ben solo x y/n #ben solo imagine #adam driver fanfiction #ben solo fanfic #ben solo x you #adam driver x reader #star wars fanfiction #ben solo #ben solo one shot #kylo ren fluff #adam driver fluff #ben solo fic #kylo ren x reader

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pinkcottonlatte · 2 years ago

Text

ＢＥＯＭＧＹＵᵳᵢ𝓬 ᵣₑ𝓬ₛ

[part 1]

⦾ Ｓｅｒｉｅｓ

⁃ Lover = Lo$er by @wildernessuntothemselves (complete, sub!beomgyu, dom!reader, virgin shaming, degradation, slut shaming, foodplay, mommy kink, breeding kink)

⁃ You are my queen now by @wildernessuntothemselves (complete, switch!beomgyu, switch!reader, dry humping, cumming in pants, dirty talk, unrequited love, non con, extremely unhealthy relationship dynamics, manipulative characters, mentions of and justifications of rape, mentions of miscarriages, spanking, cheating, fingering, cunnilingus, dirty talk, orgasm denial)

⁃ Love affair by @yvesjun (complete, alcohol consumption, swearing, smut (drunk sex, fem. oral receiving, slight degradation, orgasm denial)

⁃ here I come by @ijhyo (complete, horror, swearing ,injuries, character death, mentions of blood, stabbing, knives)

⁃ run by @loveliestfelix (complete, angst, best friends to strangers)

⁃ ghosting by @jjunis (on going, swearing, family issues, abusive parents, mentions of domestic violence , mentions of some light injuries, anxiety ,depression, insecurities)

⁃ stranger things!beomgyu by @bb-eilish (mentions of death, sex, rough sex, dirty talk, pet names, dom!gyu, sub!reader,mutual pining, condom use)

⁃ ugly district by @jjuxii (on going, enemies to lovers, bullying, cursing)

⁃ bj!ben by @minnieves (on going, camboy!beomgyu, mutual masturbation, fingering)

⁃ fuck you series by @fairyofshampgyu (complete, nsfw, sub! beomgyu, dom! reader, enemies to lovers, degrading & slut shaming, smut)

⁃ live now! Series by @fairyofshampgyu (on going, camboy, sub! beomgyu, dom! reader, solo beomgyu, anal, smut)

⁃ anti-romantic by @tokkibbang00 (on going, college!au, strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, humor, ex! hyunjin, best friend! yeonjun, indie band! txt, cursing, alcohol consumption, mentions of sex)

⁃ one way by @rosewould (on-going, hate sex, mean!gyu, slut shaming, breath play, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, post orgasm torture, dubcon, blood, pain play, breast play, biting, hair pulling, choking, spitting, unrequited crush, failed confession)

⦾ Ｏｎｅｓｈｏｔｓ

⁃ honeymoon by @beomsight (edging, clothed sex, subspace, unestablished dom/sub roles, top!bg, he’s loud, mutual masturbation, drooling, biting, marks, crying)

⁃ needy thing by @beomsight (afab! reader, use of pet name, protected sex, hand job, oral)

⁃ surprise! by @beomsight (subby!bg, voyeurism, edging)

⁃ good boy by @beomsight (strap on, hand job, nipple play, softdom!reader

⁃ rude awakening by @beomsight (afab!reader, smacking, mention of temperature play, sleeping naked, tummy hickeys)

⁃ (blood) lust by @beomsight (afab!reader, lots of mentions of blood, hand jobs, fingering, slight dubcon, penetration, creampie, no protection, light choking, marking, biting, feeding, bloodplay, teasing, slight teasing

⁃ be sweet (I wanna believe in you) by @beomsight (angst, crying, mentions of insomnia, arguments, debilitating anxiety)

⁃ endorphins by @beomsight (poly! Featuring Taehyun, scratching, unprotected sex, creampie, oral)

⁃ control by @beomsight ( ot5, fem!reader, subspace, voyeurism, spanking, orgasm denial, crying, manhandling, fingering, oral), attempt at double penetration (no anal), nipple play,degradation, pet names)

⁃ rush by @idollemon (best friends to lovers, dirty talk, foreplay, no actual intercourse)

⁃ boyfriend by @hyewka (sub!beomgyu, harddom!reader, degradation, slight mommy kink, overstim, dacryphilia, nipple play (m receiving), titty sucking, bed humping, praise kink, dumbification )

⁃ puppy hybrid thought by @hyewka (smut, sub!dog hybrid beomgyu, corruption kink)

⁃ yandere!beomgyu thought by @hyewka (18+, smut, toxic behaviour)

⁃ perv bestfriend!gyu thought by @hyewka (smut)

⁃ gamer!beomgyu by @cheolhub (smut)

⁃ how to get the girl by @ijhyo (college au, strangers to friends to lovers, swearing, lots of food mentions, two small mention of a creepy teacher, making out/kissing, drinking, social anxiety)

⁃ then I’ll be yours by @loveliestfelix (fluff, angst, best friends to lovers)

⁃ take me where your heart is by @loveliestfelix (fluff, some angst, friends to lovers)

⁃ movie night by @loveliestfelix (fluff)

⁃ the best thing that I got by @jjunis (some pining, fluff, college!au, best friends to lovers)

⁃ for worse and for better by @jjunis (angsty fluff, cursing, slight mention of sex, mentions of a breakup, mentions of mental and emotional struggles)

⁃ all one shots of @wildernessuntothemselves (smut mostly)

⁃ stalker!beomgyu by @clubeomgyu (Stalker!Beomgyu, Dom!Beomgyu, Psycho!Beomgyu, Possessive!Beomgyu, Sub!reader, stalking, mentions of murder, mentions of blood, drinking, jealousy, dirty talk, praise, body worship, panty kink, crying kink, overstimulation, orgasm control, forced orgasm, fingering, oral, choking, degradation)

⁃ gyu + incubus!fem reader by @clubeomgyu (intentional lowercase, vouyerism, wet dreams, masturbating)

⁃ sub!gyu & dom!reader by @clubeomgyu (Best friend AU, swearing, use of viagra, masturbation, teasing, praising, degrading)

⁃ beomgyu fingers you in public by @bb-eilish (public fingering, beomgyu cums in his pants, lingerie, changing room, pet names, established relationship, praise, cum eating, licking)

⁃ mini skirt by @gyuubear (Dacryphilia, rough sex, hair pulling, dom!beomgyu, spanking/hitting, public sex, oral, bent over, orgasm denial/edging, degradation, explicit language/pet names, choking, deepthroating, humiliation kink, creampie, MDNI)

⁃ adrenaline rush by @sugarcherriess (Dark themes, noncon, manipulation, use of force and fear, sadism, mind break, piece of shit gyu, use of toys, pussy slapping, lots of internal conflict, cream pie, cum play)

⁃ all one shots of @minnieves (smut mostly)

⁃ all one shots of @fairyofshampgyu (smut mostly)

⁃ dom!gyu x sex tapes of @bangchanswolfpelt

⁃ hey emo boy! by @koqabear (friends to lovers, fluff, smut, lots of piercings, needles, nipple piercings, snake bites and a tongue piercing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of food, cursing)

⁃ only you, darling by @koqabear (featuring yeonjun, yandere au!, cursing, mentions of food/alcohol, unrequited love, pining, possessiveness, overprotectiveness, jealousy, mc is oblivious/trusting, hacking, stalking/harassment, toxic relationships, infidelity, lying, manipulation, brief sickness, nausea, tracking, panic attacks, paranoia and anxiety , threats, arguing, violence, weapons, blood, injuries, MCD, subspace (not explicitly named), unhealthy coping mechanisms, power imbalance, recurring nightmares, hallucinations, PTSD, forced isolation, Stockholm syndrome, guilt tripping, use of collars, brief starvation, choking, guns, vomiting)

⁃ take it! by @koqabear (fluff, angst, smut, featuring Taehyun, constant teasing)

⁃ traces you left by @koqabear (hurt/comfort, Angst, MCD, implied non-verbal characters, mentions of panic attacks, grieving, coping mechanisms, mentions of weight loss/eating disorders, mentions of depression, brief mentions of suicidal thoughts, brief mentions animal death/animal surgery)

⁃ all one shots of @bugsbinnie (some are smut)

⁃ brat by @rosewould (smut, fluff, non idol au, virgin!reader, corruption kink)

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j0eyj0rdis0n · 1 year ago

Note

Senario: walking in after a mission/spree and finding their partner dancing and singing to music while cleaning. (Bro made peace with being kidnapped LMAO)

Maybe BEN, Jeff, Toby and Eyeless Jack?

I absolutely love this!! Send in more scenarios!! I hope you enjoy 🖤

CREEPS COMING HOME TO YOU DANCING/SINGING

JEFF THE KILLER:

He felt the atmosphere was different as he was walking towards the front door, it was odd, a feeling he wasn’t used to when coming home

It was happy, the air was lighter, it made his skin crawl

When he pushed open the door, there you were. Happily rocking out to the cd in the radio

He didn’t expect you to like the music he did, especially something as heavy as this

He didn’t realize you’d like the cd’s that we’re thrown about the house, but hell did he like it

He watched from the door as you jammed out, playing air guitar over the solo

A smile spread over his face, his scabbed cuts breaking and beginning to bleed

He could get used to this.

BEN DROWNED:

He was happy you were finally getting used to being around here

He knew it was hard to adjust but he tried to make the transition as easy as possible

When he realized music was your thing he supplied you with any sort of access to it

So when he came home to you dancing he was more than happy to see that you were adjusting alright

He watched silently with a stupid grin on his face

As he watched all he could think of was how much he loved you. How glad he was to have you here.

Eventually he let you know he was home, assuring you not to stop just because he was there

When you wouldn’t start back up he joined in, starting the dancing session once more

EYELESS JACK:

Music had always been an escape for Jack when he was human. When he was in college he was always swamped with hard homework and studies, so taking time to relax with music was a big thing for him

But ever since his sacrifice he’s dreaded music. It reminds him of the life he never got to have. What was ripped from him.

When he heard music from inside he felt anger bubble up in his chest. How did you get your hands on anything of the sort? He swore he burned all of his cd’s.

He walked in rather angrily, his steps heavy and his brows furrowed. When he heard your sweet voice singing along all of that anger subsided instantly

He felt guilty…

How could he take something that was so dear to him while he was human away from an actual human…

He felt his heart ache, he was confused, conflicted… He couldn’t be mad at the one he loved. Especially for trying to make yourself feel more at home…

He let his hand slip from the handle, turning around and walking away to ponder his thoughts alone

TIM/MASKY:

It had been a rough day… The mission was long, and awfully bloody. He just wanted to have dinner on the table and lay in bed with you after. No matter what protest you put up

He was about to call the same thing he did every time he walked in the door “honey! I’m home!” but the faint music stopped him

He followed the soft sound through the house, quieting his heavy boots until he made it to the kitchen.

The heavenly smell of roast hit his nose as he peaked around the corner. There you were, dancing and singing quietly as you plated dinner

He felt his heart melt as he watched you. He’d wanted a domestic life just like this…

He knew it had been difficult for you to adjust to his wants and needs… And seeing you so happy made him happy. That’s all he wanted was a happy domestic family…

Seeing you adjusting happily was like his wildest dreams come true

He snuck up behind you, placing his large hands on your waist as you set the plate down on the table. “Smells great honey.”

BRIAN/HOODIE:

Brian had always been quiet when coming in the door. All he ever did was take off his boots, pull up his mask, and give you a kiss before continuing with whatever he had to do for the night

Honestly he thought of letting you go, he felt pretty damn bad that you were so unhappy

He didn’t like how you two fought, the yelling, the screaming. And he just couldn’t bring himself to kill you…

As he was coming home from a mission he almost dreaded walking in the door…

He tried to take anything dangerous from you, but he didn’t know what you’d get your hands on and what you’d do with it…

So when he walked in the door to you singing to the radio he couldn’t help but smile. He couldn’t express how happy he was that you were finally beginning to get adjusted

He wasn’t exactly a fan of your music taste but he was happy that you were happy

He made his way over to you, pulling up his mask just halfway for you to see his gapped smile before he gave you a tender kiss

“TICCI” TOBY:

Toby had always been a music guy

Just like Jeff he had an abundance of cd’s scattered around the house and he knew it was only a matter of time before you found something you liked

Which honestly he hoped for. He wanted to be able to spend time talking about music and enjoying it together

Coming home to his love singing along to the music in the cd player was just what he had been waiting for

“Found something y-you like?” He’d ask, taking the cd case from you and looking it over. “G-good choice. One of my f-favorites.”

At first you’d be embarrassed that he caught you, trying to put on that same persona that you hated it here and you wanted to go home

But as the music continued playing and Toby began singing along as well, you couldn’t help but get comfortable

“F-find more you like! It’s date night!”

#creepypasta #marble hornets #creepypasta headcannons #creepypasta requests #creepypasta hcs #creepypasta x reader #jeff the killer headcanons #ben drowned headcanons #ben drowned #eyeless jack headcannons #eyeless jack #tim wright headcanons #masky headcanons #brian thomas headcannons #hoodie headcanons #ticci toby headcanons #toby rodgers

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gredandforgeweatherby · 1 year ago

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All the Way Across the Country?

Ben Gross x reader

WC: 825 Warnings: None, just fluff. Nothing romantic between Devi and Ben has happened for the sake of this fic (dw I'm team Benvi 100% :)) I do not own any of the dialogue from Never Have I Ever, I am just writing about Ben Gross because no one else will, please do not sue me.

A/N: This is not proofread, and the ending kinda sucks, but I really couldn't figure out how to end it. I hope you still enjoy <3

It was the night before you and all your friends left for college. Last night, you, Fabiola, and Eleanor had what was supposed to be your last hurrah, but Devi's grandmother invited you guys to her wedding the next night. She actually invited all of Devi's friends. You were excited you were going to have one last night with your friends before everyone left, though there was one person missing: Ben.

Ben left for an internship in New York right after graduation, and while you were happy that he got the opportunity, you wished you had been able to see him again before he left.

While Devi and Ben's relationship was based on academic validation and rivalry, your and Ben's relationship differed. You and Ben were friendly with each other through Devi and Ben's rivalry, (sometimes bothering Devi in the process. "You're supposed to be my right-hand girl not canoodling with my nemesis!). Though Devi and Ben often time butt heads, that somehow never got in between your and Ben's friendship. Eventually, your feeling turned into more than platonic, and you could never tell if Ben felt the same. The two of you would kiss, but neither of you would bring it up ever again. You because you were afraid of ruining the friendship and making it awkward, and he because he was afraid you would reject him.

The two of you had never been great at talking about your feelings.

¤•¤•¤•¤•¤•¤•¤•¤•¤•¤•¤

You and all your friends, sans Devi, were sitting at a table playing a game of never have I ever.

Alright, never have I ever hooked up in my bestie's bed." Eleanor said, her gaze directed at Fabiola.

She and Fabiola met each other's gaze, and Fabiola's mouth hung wide open, a look of faux betrayal on her face.

"Fabiola you better pick up that damn cup," Eleanor said, her eyes narrowed at the girl in question.

Fabiola obliged.

Everyone gasped in surprise while you spoke up.

"Woah, woah, woah, whose bed?" You questioned, hoping that your name didn't fall from her mouth.

"Remember that party Devi had where she two-timed Paxton and he got hit by a car and his swimming career was over?" Fabiola questioned.

Chuckling a bit, you nodded. "Yup, everyone remembers that. How could you not?"

"Me and Eve had a make-out session on her bed."

Yours, Aneesa's, and Paxton's mouths dropped in surprise, while Eleanor and Trent looked at each other excitedly.

"Wow."

"Damn."

"You think she'd be mad if she found out?" Fabiola questioned.

"Well, I guess I should also drink," Trent spoke up. Paxton questioned why.

"I definitely had a couple of solo seshes on your futon." This, once again, made everyone gasp in surprise (and probably a bit of disgust).

While Trent and Paxton were talking about Trent's "solo seshes", Devi came over to you.

"Hey Y/N, I need your help with something in my room."

Thinking it was another way for your friends to sneak alcohol like you, Fab, Eleanor, and Devi did earlier, you didn't question it. You followed her to her room while she was talking nonsense the whole time. As the two of you were rounding the corner to her room, you felt her hands on your back give you a push into her room. Confused, you turned around to question her when you noticed someone in there.

"Ben?" You questioned. "What are you doing here?"

He was standing by Devi's window in a sweatshirt and jeans looking a bit bewildered.

"Uh, yeah, it's weird," he began, " Uh, well, I was in New York, and Devi mentioned that her pati invited all of us to her wedding and all of a sudden, I got this feeling that I needed to tell you that I... like you."

You chuckled lightly. "You flew all across the country to tell me you like me?"

"Well, yeah. Uh," he seemed conflicted with what to say next. "Actually," he chuckled, "I think I love you, y/n."

You stood there, not quite believing this was happening. "What?" You breathed out.

"I love you."

Hearing those words fall from his mouth made you realize this was real. This was Ben Gross, who hoped on a cross-country flight the night before you left for school to tell you he loved you.

"I love you too Ben."

The two of you smiled at each other before he suggested you guys left. You grabbed your things, (that were luckily in Devi's house and not in the tent,) and guided him to your car, driving to his house. The two of you made it to his room before your lips met.

¤•¤•¤•¤•¤•¤•¤•¤•¤•¤•¤

You and Ben spent the night together, deciding to try and date during the semester. You were both going to be in New York-- him obviously at Columbia and you at Cornell, you guys could totally make it work.

And the two of you certainly did.

#never have i ever #never have i ever netflix #netflix #ben gross #devi vishwakumar #ben gross x reader #ben gross x you #never have i ever x reader #paxton hall yoshida #benvi

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readingreylo · 2 years ago

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The best Reylo Fanfics I read in 2022

(Not necessarily written in 2022)

My 2021 wrap up was such a hit I thought I would do another one! While I didn't read nearly as many fanfics this year, I did discover a few new authors whose bodies of work are just *chef kiss*.

(Don't forget to check out my All Time Favourite Fic list and my pinned post with all my rec lists!)

And in no particular order...

Similar Creatures by quamquam20 | @quamquam20 | Explicit | 36k | Complete | Historical AU | 1700s | Venice | Pretty Woman retelling | Sex worker!Rey | Mafioso/enforcer!Ben | "no kissing on the mouth" | Angst | HEA | Multi POV | "As the Hammer of the Medici, Benjamin Solatti has a lot of practice crushing dreams and wringing every coin from nearly empty pockets. Sent to Venice to collect on a debt, he doesn’t have time for pleasure. Nobody knows the winding alleys and canals of Venice quite like someone who works them. So when street-smart Rey notices a lost Florentine noble, she’s more than happy to offer her services. Worlds apart, they lead very different lives. Brought together by chance and an irresistible proposition, those same differences might be what tear them apart when their time runs out."

Happenchance by PurpleSugarQuills | @purplesugarquills | Explicit | 5k | Oneshot | Modern AU | Office Party | Mistaken Indentity | Mention of sex work | Rey POV | "When Rose hires an escort to be Rey’s date for their company’s fundraising event, Rey’s livid. Until… Well, until she spots him in the hotel’s lobby. Tall and gorgeous, with dark hair nearly brushing the collar of the suit he fills out sinfully well. Maybe Rey doesn’t hate Rose. Maybe she should write Rose a thank you note. Or, Rey thinks Ben is an escort. Ben is not an escort."

Here's to more amazing fics in 2023!🥂

#reylo #reylo fanfiction #reylo au #reylo fic rec #jess made something

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butdaddyilovehim99 · 29 days ago

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5 Boring Facts About Me

Tagged by @hogans-heroes, @onyxsboxes, and @aust-een

1. I’m a big Star Wars nerd since I grew up in a Star Wars household. I have a ton of Lego Star Wars sets and own Kylo Ren and Ben Solo lightsabers.

2. I am left handed. Actually all of my traits are recessive; blonde hair, blue eyes, freckles and the list goes on.

3. I broke my right foot two years in a row in college and had surgery the second time (I also attended the same college as Gale Cleven, yes that is a flex)

4. My favorite Disney Princess movie is Sleeping Beauty. The art style is just perfect beautiful and I’ve always adored it.

5. I keep every card I’ve ever receive since I was about 12. They’re in a huge boot box now as I have so many. I have cards from my birth and my first birthday from both of my great grandmas (they always make me cry)

No pressure tagging @wayrad @evlia @trashbag-baby666 @avonne-writes @sleepy-hyperfixations

#i’m loving these random facts about everyone #tag game #but daddy i’m on my bullshit

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askbensolo · 3 months ago

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Ben, did you ever eat bugs when you were younger? Y'know like you were channeling your inner Anakin

Yes. Yes I did. As well as other things. Truly wonderful, the mind of a child is. I don’t know why I did that, but hey, the heart wants what it wants…

Oh my gosh. Dude. Wanna hear a college story? ‘Cause I ate a live bug in college. In fact, I ate five of them.

I’ll set the scene. Good ol’ UNaboo. Junior year. My first year, actually, since I transferred in. A fall semester party. The Osk Trill Osk frat house. Enter Ben Solo, twenty years old, tall but scrawny, still in his ugly sweater era, dragged into the tableau by a twenty-one-year-old Treeso Wonga, his new friend from NHS 101: Introduction to Nonhuman Studies.

“I don’t think my mom would want me here,” Ben says, fear in his eyes, a college junior with a freshman soul. “Is it like in the holofilms? Are people gonna be, like…doing stuff?”

“Relax, Solo,” says Treeso, pushing him forward with a solid hand to the back. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. We’re here to have fun!”

Osk Trill Osk is a co-ed, mostly-Gungan fraternity. Ben, at this time, has mostly only ever interacted with humans and near-human species, and even those he has barely interacted with. We’re looking at a guy who was homeschooled from age five, practically lived in his bedroom till nineteen, and can count all the friends he’s ever had on one hand. And now he’s standing awkwardly in the middle of a loud and crowded room with a bunch of eighteen-to-twenty-two-year-olds, but he feels like he’s twelve.

The others are friendly enough. They offer him drinks and they offer him things that aren’t drinks and one girl who’s maybe already had a bit too much to drink thinks he’s cute and offers him something else. But the looming threat of Leia Organa-Solo hovers over the boy, along with his own anxious inhibitions and fairly cautious nature, and he declines them all.

“I’m, uh, not twenty-one yet,” he says, naively thinking the excuse is watertight, but a rousing chorus of “neither are we!” shatters the illusion at once.

“I mean, I like following rules,” he says instead, with eyes so big you could read the humiliation in them from a lightyear away—but no one else in the room is in a state to be that observant. Nor are they in a state to spend even one of the brain cells they’re all trying to kill off on thinking about what a loser Ben is. But Ben, however, now has many brain cells that have devoted themselves entirely to this purpose, and he spends the next hour stressed-out and sober, thinking about what a loser he is, and how he can prove he’s not.

Enter the blue slug-beetles, which someone suddenly brings in a crate of, much in the same way one would bring in a six-pack of beer. There is a series of cheers from the Gungans in the room.

The slug-beetle is a bright blue insect about the size of the palm of your hand, and has the curious distinction of being native to both Naboo and Tatooine, with the ability to thrive in both wetland and desert. On Naboo, they are found in the eastern swamps, crawling in the mud amidst the roots of the pelote trees. They are a Gungan delicacy, and Gungans, with their strong teeth and long tongues, are well-suited to cracking the beetles’ hard shells and slurping up the juices. Treeso and several other Gungans begin to do so immediately, while some of the non-Gungan guests look on, some with fascination, some with disgust.

Ben Solo is not a Gungan. He is, however, an absolute freaking idiot. Through some insane inspiration, he decides that he is going to prove how cool he is by being the first human to eat a blue slug-beetle. He puts his hand in the crate.

It’s alive, first of all. These slug-beetles have been prepped for consumption by the removal of their wings, the stubs of which are clipped off in straight lines and flitter nervously as the beetles struggle vainly to survive another day. But even without flight, Ben’s beetle squirms in his hands, its several legs tickling his palms as he tries to prevent its escape.

This moron, frantic not to embarrass himself by having to chase a slug-beetle around the room, finally gives up on figuring out how to eat it. He settles for slapping his palm against his mouth, throwing back the beetle like a handful of pills. The legs tickle his tongue instead of his hands. In a panic, he champs down on it to end its life, and swallows it, the hard fragments of shell scraping the insides of his throat on the way down.

And guess what? Nobody freaking saw.

Damn.

So then. Of course. What other conclusion is there? He has to do it again. Reluctantly, he reaches once more into the crate of crawling beetles.

Mind you, this buffoon is fully sober. He has nothing and no one to blame for his stupid decisions. He’s just…like that.

He picks up the second bug. Probably, he should have stopped and waved and said something like, “Hey, guys, watch me eat this bug!” (though in retrospect, I’m kind of glad he didn’t), but this dude had pretty bad social anxiety at the time, and such a prospect was unthinkable.

So…Ben Solo eats his second slug-beetle. And again. Nobody freaking sees him do it. Although it does go down a little smoother.

Well. Now he’s committed to the bit. Committed enough to grab a t-h-i-r-d slug-beetle, but for some reason not committed enough to say “hey guys watch me eat this bug” because that would involve calling attention to himself, which is exactly what he’s attempting to do, except no, he doesn’t want to make himself noticed, he just wants to be noticed.

Third slug-beetle goes down—similarly unseen. It’s looking like Ben prayed too hard at the beginning of the party for people not to look at him, because, yeah, that’s exactly what’s happening right now. Sure, he could just call it there and shrug it off and laugh at himself for eating three slug-beetles for nothing, but…you know? The sunk-cost fallacy is one hell of a drug.

He’s getting the hang of it. Down goes the fourth beetle. One of the Gungans looks at the crate and goes, hey, where’d all the beetles go? They went fast, huh? And Ben Solo’s like, oh, someone’s looking, now’s my chance. He grabs the fifth bug and puts it in his mouth and imagines the sweet, sweet taste of notoriety.

Well, he was getting the hang of it. But at this point, this stupid neophyte college boy is sweaty and dehydrated and has nothing in his stomach but hydrochloric acid and five blue slug-beetles and a bunch of social anxiety and his body decides, yeah, okay, show’s over, we’re done here. Pack it up, boys.

So, everyone’s watching when Ben Solo slaps his hands over his mouth and stumbles over to a conveniently-placed garbage can and keels over and…you know, un-eats all the bugs.

“Yooo, I thought you said you weren’t gonna drink!” says Treeso, pulling back my hair while I freaking die, and someone else says they can see why I don’t drink, since we’ve only been there an hour and I’m already losing my guts. And from that point on everyone thinks I’m just, like, the worst lightweight ever.

And? To this day? No one will kriffing believe me that I ate five bugs. Like…seriously?? If I was gonna lie about myself for clout, you really think that that’s what I’d be going with?? Ben Solo, the bug-eater???

Anyway…yeah. I present myself before you. Ben Solo, eater of bugs.

#askbensolo #written #anakin eats live bugs #university of naboo #treeso #ben tells a story #this is the funniest thing i've written in a while omg #ben solo #gungan #naboo #Star Wars #star wars fanfiction #wow we really missed out on college ben huh

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