k1ng-ej

[k1ng-ej]

Happy America day! I will be celebrating even though I don't like where this country is right now

[k1ng-ej]

hes cold, never gets too close, keeps you at arms length. there's fleeting moments of vulnerability and affection, ones that give you hope that maybe you can change him, fix him. but the harsh reality that you can't always hits like a wave, leaving your heart in a dull ache.

there's something alluring about him, always pulling you in and leaving you wanting more. those dark eyes of his, always seeming like they are piercing into your very soul. it sends shivers up your spine, makes your heart flutter in your chest, and leaves a certain warmth pooling in your gut. you can't describe the feeling he gives you, but you know it's addicting and as toxic as your favorite alcoholic beverage.

he knows exactly how to mess with your feelings, he knows the moments where he lightly grazes your hand, or cheek, that your one step closer to the edge. your this close to pulling the hairs from your head, to giving into him and telling he won this sick game. your body aches and yearns for him, it drives you up a wall.

he's sick and twisted, but in all the right ways. anyone would call you insane if you told them your situation, who you were attracted to, who you fantasized about at night.

~~~~

a/n: hey guys, i’m so sorry for my inactivity. family issues have crept up on me, depression has me drowning, and i have a really important interview this week and need to be on my best game, but i’ve been itching to write and post something.

[k1ng-ej]

have a parson spider i found in the bathroom and my fatass cat, my activity has been so low but i promise im still around. ajjdjfejbwbrbf sorry

[k1ng-ej]

ALSO ALSOOI (i warned you)

Reader basically gets tasked with babysitting him and helping him at least SEEM like a better person to the media but they take no shit and when they, somehow, find out that he likes them, they basically tell him to shape up or ship out because they have high standards that his personality doesn’t meet

Would You Be So Kind? (Soldier Boy x Reader .ᐟ)

note: ough this is kinda short, i am suffering from sunburn and a sore body lol, life is being busy but i kind of want to make a pt. 2 to this?

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

...

"That's what I'm talking about! Quit speaking to people like that." You pushed your pointer finger into Soldier Boys chest, gaze sharp. If he wanted anyone to even remotely like him again he would need to get his act together and especially stop talking to people like they were beneath him.

He rolled his eyes. "Like I told you, I don't give a shit what the media thinks of me."

With frustration bubbling in your chest, you stepped back, dragging a hand down your face in exasperation. You were tasked with trying to make Soldier Boy seem like a better person to the media so they weren't at his throat constantly, which wasn't going well. He didn't care if people hated him, and he didn't care how he acted either. It was like trying to teach a toddler manners, maddening. It was always back and forth with him, and just when you thought you were making progress, that glimmer of hope extinguished, leaving only bitter disappointment.

"You should care, everyone thinks you're a threat, and wants you back in a coma and sealed away."

You watched his expression shift, the usual smug look he wore crumbled, replaced by something raw and vulnerable. You noticed the way his nails dug into the palms of his hands, how his brows creased. You wondered what might be going through his head at the moment, if he was frustrated with your constant nagging, or if the mention of being sealed away again struck a nerve. You've spent enough time with Soldier Boy to recognize that he's a complex individual, there was much more to him underneath the surface- pain, doubt, perhaps even longing- but he desperately fought to keep those emotions locked away, hidden from the world and perhaps even from himself.

"I only care what one person thinks of me, sugar." He scoffed, finally meeting your eyes. His piercing green eyes that were normally filled with rage, or disgust, now glinted with something warmer, before you could place your finger on it, it was gone.

"Oh yeah? and who is that?" You raised your brow, hand planted on your hip. You wanted to say Countess, but you knew their relationship wasn't all the greatest and Soldier Boy didn't give a fuck about her.

His eyes narrowed, a silence settling between you. He seemed hesitant to tell you, whether he was embarrassed to admit that he did care what someone thought of him or some other reason, you didn't know. He sucked in a breath and stepped toward you, your body freezing up like a lake in the harsh winters. You had no idea what he was doing, or why he was getting so close, or why your heart suddenly fluttered in your chest.

"I care about your opinion about me." He finally spoke, his voice quiet, eyes flicking to your lips for a split second. What was he doing? Was this an attempt to get you off his ass about becoming a better person by trying to butter you up? You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out when you felt his hand touch your waist, feathery light, testing your reaction.

"You're joking, right?" You snorted, assuming this was just a joke to get you worked up. However, when his expression remained the same, your heart dipped in your chest.

You flinched away from his touch, a surge of conflicted emotions flooding through you as confusion clouded your mind. The lingering warmth where his fingers had pressed against your waist sent an unwelcome shiver up your spine, your heart hammering with anxiety and something else you refused to acknowledge. Soldier boy was handsome, that much was undeniable, but fury bubbled within you at the thought of falling for someone who behaved so childishly and treated others with such contempt. Disgust and pride swelled in your chest, your standards weren't just higher than that, they were galaxies beyond.

"I'm sorry to tell you, lover boy, but your personality isn't quite my type." You admitted with a smirk, hoping this interaction would end to save you from embarrassment, or worse.

"Oh yeah? What's your type then, sweetheart?" He closed the space between you once again, gentle touch grazing your waist and raising goosebumps as emerald eyes gazed into yours.

"Someone who is nice, treats others with respect." You said softly, placing your hand on his chest as you leaned close. "Someone who… is the complete opposite of you, actually." You finished, pushing him back.

He chuckled and shook his head, almost in disbelief that you would say such a thing, like you just offended his entire bloodline. Never in a million years would you think Soldier Boy cared what someone thought of him, let alone harbor real genuine feelings for someone. It shocked you, a wave of confusion washing over you, almost making you think you were still dreaming and slept through your alarm this morning. His personality was far from your type, and he would be the last guy in line that you would give a chance. But, a small part of you, deep down, felt a flutter of curiosity, wanted to explore. You wondered, heart racing slightly at the thought, if Soldier Boy could really change who he was, become a nicer person.

"So, if you want me to like you, in any way, I suggest you shape up."

[k1ng-ej]

hey yall!! just got back from my weekend vacation! ^^ it was awesome, i am sunburnt and sore as hell but i will work on requests and other things asap! happy to be back :)

[k1ng-ej]

Angel!Dean x reader 𓆩♡𓆪

note: hihi, been kind of a tiring week so far, cant promise ill post after this, im going on vacation this weekend!! so enjoy this little smth. also im aware its not entirely lore accurate, i dont rlly care

ʚ ɞ Angel!Dean who doesn't seem like an angel at all with his foul language and flirty personality

ʚ ɞ Angel!Dean who plucked you from hell for no particular reason but he thought you were cute, why was a person like you rotting in hell?

ʚ ɞ Angel!Dean who scares the living crap out of you by showing up out of nowhere, even during the wrong times while you are working a job

ʚ ɞ Angel!Dean who uses the 'I'm your angel' excuse for everything, even just to mess with you and get in your way

ʚ ɞ Angel!Dean who is possessive and overprotective, arm securely around your waist and demanding you be more careful when fighting demons

ʚ ɞ Angel!Dean who's wings are broken and damaged, he refuses to tell you why

ʚ ɞ Angel!Dean who disobeys orders from the man upstairs and often gets in trouble for it. but somehow never becomes a fallen angel

ʚ ɞ Angel!Dean who fits the demon vibe more than he does angel with his choice of style and sinful activites

ʚ ɞ Angel!Dean who doesn't agree with the way angels do things, and isn't an asshole like the rest of them

ʚ ɞ Angel!Dean who looks like he yearns to be a normal human, the way he watches two siblings play at the park stings your heart

ʚ ɞ Angel!Dean who only opens up to you in pieces about what's happened to him, tells you how his brother was brutally killed by demons, and no matter what he did he could never get him back

ʚ ɞ Angel!Dean who misses the hunts, the late night drives, the stupid pranks on Sam, the cheap motels, and his car

ʚ ɞ Angel!Dean who says he hates that he's important and wants to be human again, but you can tell he secretly likes the power he has

ʚ ɞ Angel!Dean who eventually learns why you were in hell in the first place, a deal to save your family, and often reminds you not to beat yourself up over it

ʚ ɞ Angel!Dean who secretly enjoys that his handprint is forever marked on your shoulder and makes dirty jokes about it

[k1ng-ej]

Change PT. 2 (Soldier boy x reader)

The days had blurred together, an endless sea of uncertainty as you lost track of time, unsure even of the day. Each night, you'd return to your cramped, dilapidated apartment, barely scraping by, flinging yourself onto the worn, sagging mattress, letting the tears flow freely. A wave of self-loathing crashed over you, feeling so pathetically weak for being so shaken by the events of Herogasm. You were a liability now, useless to The Boys, freezing up in the field and nearly costing someone their life. Butcher's disappointment hung thick in the air as he reluctantly benched you, until you could get your mind right.

The weight of your situation pressed down relentlessly. Where to begin? Therapy was out of reach financially. Your college friends were off starting their own lives, leaving your desperate texts unanswered. The days blurred together, each one as suffocating as the last. You picked up shifts at your unfulfilling part-time job, just scraping by on the rent, then returned home to drown your sorrows. No amount of distraction or alcohol could alleviate the crushing pressure that bore down on you daily. Paranoia set in- would someone from The Seven come knocking? Even if they did, you had no fight left to give. You felt profoundly alone and lost, adrift in a sea of your own despair.

Your once-tidy apartment now lay in shambles, laundry strewn haphazardly, dishes piled high in the sink, a veritable mountain of protein bar wrappers consuming the coffee table. You, too, had become a depressing spectacle- sprawled lifelessly across the couch, eyes glazed as they mindlessly absorbed the flickering television. Hour after hour ticked by, yet you mustered not the will to rise, to do something, anything, productive. You were mired in a fog of despair, unable to shake its oppressive grip.

Three sharp knocks sounded from your door, startling you from your daydreaming. You wracked your brain for who it could possibly be, but ultimately no answers came up. You pulled yourself from the couch, the weight of the universe almost making it impossible, and padding to your front door. Rubbing the tiredness from your eyes, you undid the locks.

You were shocked at the sight before you, Soldier boy stood in a casual blue T-shirt and sweats, hair slightly tousled as if he just rolled out of bed. He met your eyes, something softening in his expression, a sight you've never seen before.

Without a word, he let himself in, like a stray puppy seeking shelter from a storm. To say you were embarrassed was an understatement, you studied him as he looked around your living quarter, his eyes sweeping the room like searchlights, mentally soaking up the mess that sprawled like a battlefield. Part of you was expecting him to say The Boys needed you back, or tell you that you were being too sensitive, words that would cut like shards of glass. Your heart thumped wildly in your chest like a caged bird as you waited for the words to escape from his lips.

"I know how you feel." His gruff voice cut through the silence like a knife through butter, his back to you was his way of putting up an emotional wall as he spoke.

Was he trying to make you feel better? Offer you a shoulder to cry on? No offense, but Soldier Boy's shoulder would be the last you would cry on, as inviting as a bed of nails. You remembered his gesture from the last time you two had been together, hanging between you like an unspoken promise, and wondered if he thought that was enough to let him in your pants. Most of your interactions with him were filled with his inappropriate and perverted comments, which you usually brushed off smoothly.

"Do you?" You asked, skeptical of him, was he just going to use your emotional vulnerability against you? He was a stranger in your home, in your personal space, trying to connect with you through the supposed feelings you shared. You didn't believe that he knew how you felt, that he had been through something similar, he was Soldier Boy after all. He was stuck up, he used to be Americas baby, he was spoiled.

"I do," He turned to face you, a crease between his brows. "I cant say I know every part of it, but I have been in your place before. Being Voughts puppet… came with a price."

The man before you that you've always known to be an asshole was letting down all the walls he had built securely around his heart, you believed he was incapable of it, but he keeps taking you by surprise. The bond you shared was unspoken, and uncertain. You tried not to pay Soldier boy great attention when he around, or engage in arguments with him, since it was only pouring more into his already massive ego. He never treated you differently from the rest, he always made unneeded comments towards you which never received any acknowledgment.

"Whatever Vought ordered, I had to do, even if it meant taking the lives of innocent people." He continued upon noticing you had no words to offer to him. "I know how it feels to have someone's blood on your hands. But, what happened at Herogasm wasn't your fault, don't beat yourself up over it."

Although you assumed he was trying to sound comforting, it came off as him scolding you, you couldn't help the tug of your lips. It had been a while since you genuinely smiled or laughed at something, the feeling ignited something warm in your chest. Soldier boy was offering you a piece of him that came from underneath all the hard and tough exterior he put on, he was letting down his guard with you.

"I appreciate that you're doing this for me." You finally managed to say, forcing yourself to move from the spot you had planted yourself in when he first arrived. "It's nice to know you've been in my shoes. And… I'm sorry about what Vought did to you.

He dismissed you with a wave of his hand and a faint smirk drawn on his lips, "Don't worry 'bout it. Just try focusing on you, 'kay? Don't worry about getting back to The Boys, they've got it all covered." He strolled into your kitchen as if he was familiar with your space, he ignored the state that it was in and helped himself to a drink, pouring you one as well.

It felt surreal, Soldier boy was wearing casual attire and was in your kitchen, drinking your wine. Something pulled at your heart strings, it was gentle and light, you wanted to deny it, but deep down some part of you might've started tolerating him a bit more.

Taking your glass from him, you slowly sipped your wine, the smooth liquid lighting up your taste buds in sweetness with a pinch of something sharper. It wasn't the most expensive wine out there, but it was good quality and left an aftertaste that always had you wanting more.

"How 'bout you have a seat while i tidy up a bit, hm?" Soldier boy gestured to your couch, the same couch you had been practically rotting on for the past few days. "Clean space is a clean mind, no?"

You chuckled at that, you've only rarely heard that saying, knowing that it wasn't fully true. No matter how clean someone's home could be, they could still be going through emotional turmoil. However, you had to admit that a clean apartment would feel refreshing.

"You? Cleaning? Am I dreaming?" You snickered as you strolled over and plopped on the couch, careful not to spill your drink while kicking your feet up on the coffee table.

"Hey, I don't have to help you at all." He glared at from the kitchen, one hand on his hip. He reminded you of a mother scolding a child, earning another chuckle from you.

"I'm just sayin', I never took you as the type to clean." Sipping from your glass, you watched him begin to clean your dishes.

"I'm not." He huffed from your kitchen sink, shaking his head to himself. He looked so unnatural hunching over dirty dishes and scrubbing them clean, it was a sight you wouldn't get out of your head for a while.

His company was unexpectedly sweet, and his help was something you didn't know you would need. You tried to imagine how long you would've been in your slump for if he hadn't shown up, his presence and words were already helping lift your spirit. He was right, you shouldn't have to blame yourself for the events that occurred at Herogasm, there wasn't anything you could've done to prevent them. Even if you so badly wanted to save the lives that were lost from that day, you knew you eventually had to come to terms that you weren't at fault.

It was difficult, for sure, even more so because you had no support. Soldier boy was the only person who really knew what to say to you, the only one who went out of his way to come and check on you, even clean your apartment for you.

Once he finished with the dishes and wiping down your counters, he dug through your closet to find your vacuum. You offered to show him where it was but he told you to 'keep your ass seated'. What a guy he was. You remained in your position, leisurely drinking your second glass when he approached with the vacuum. Before you could move your legs out of his path, his hands touched your ankles, lifting them as he swiftly vacuumed between the couch and coffee table. A blush crept on your cheeks at the contact, goosebumps rising on your skin like silent waves of longing. As much as you wanted to hate Soldier boy for the person he's been, deep down you also knew he was just a broken man, manipulated and betrayed. Is that why he was doing this for you? because you're one of the only people he could relate to?

His touch whispered across your skin like autumn leaves, his calloused hands unexpectedly tender as petals after rain. Your heart fluttered traitorously in your chest, a caged bird seeking freedom. What madness had possessed you? This was Soldier Boy—dangerous, unpredictable, forbidden. You frantically banished the intoxicating thoughts from your mind, your soul aching with conflicted desire. You needed him gone—his presence a flame too close to your carefully constructed walls, threatening to reduce your defenses to smoldering ash as forbidden thoughts bloomed like dark flowers in the garden of your mind.

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

tags: @mochminnie

[k1ng-ej]

Also for Soldier Boy my beloved,

A s/o that doesn’t like fighting or arguing or anything along those lines but has a really destructive power? Could be something like pyrokinesis or dematerialization or whatever you’d like? Basically a pacifist that’s twice as powerful/strong as him

note: tbh didnt know what power to go with without it being way over the top, im a nerd about superpowers so reality warping was as down to earth as i could get while still making it stronger than soldier boy (maybe not in physical strength but you get what i mean) :)

Stronger? Nah (Soldier Boy x Powerful!Reader) ⭑.ᐟ

𓂃۶ৎ Soldier boy is skeptical when you reveal your ability. He thinks you're bluffing and insists he wont believe it until he sees proof. You're not helping your case when you explain to him the consequences of warping reality, even explain that you could erase him from existence if you really wanted to.

𓂃۶ৎ He would try to push you to use your ability, you refused every time, telling him again, there are consequences, and you don't like getting your hands dirty. Originally he thinks you're weak, you're always sitting out missions with The Boys, you never do real work for them, he says.

𓂃۶ৎ It takes time for him to warm up to you, and understand that you don't like fighting or having blood on your hands. He still thinks it's weird, you have such a powerful ability, why not use it?

𓂃۶ৎ Although he would never confess it, the fact that he's the weaker partner in the relationships stings his pride. Everyone would always look to you for help, even though the chances of you actually helping are slim. He hates it. He hates that he's not the first option when it comes down to business.

𓂃۶ৎ Maybe he despises you a little bit for it, he snaps at you in team meetings. He will turn to you and ask why you can't just "do funky shit and help them take down Vought", or "Why are you being so useless?"

𓂃۶ৎ It stings, it destroys your relationship, it pushes you away. You never argue back with him, instead you lock yourself away in the bedroom of the small apartment you share.

𓂃۶ৎ He doesn't notice for days, he wonders why you're avoiding him. It finally clicks in his head that maybe he did or said something wrong, and he confronts you. Knowing him, you were expecting an argument, for him to get annoyed and tell you to stop being so sensitive. You didn't want to argue with him, so you tried to tell him everything was fine but he could see right through you. He was your boyfriend, after all, he knew when something might be up.

𓂃۶ৎ So, when you finally tell him what's wrong, he surprises you. He actually…apologizes? He tells you it's okay that you don't want to use your ability, and even makes a small comment about how it's okay that you might be the stronger one out of the two of you. You could see it bugged him that you had such a destructive power, that you could change reality as you know it.

𓂃۶ৎ He won't let his ego get too hurt, though. If anything, he treats you like a damsel in distress during any minor inconvenience. He thinks he's coming to your rescue, even if it means having to do a quick food run for you while you're nose deep in articles about Vought. He likes to think he's saving you, and you let him think that, because what would you do without him?

𓂃۶ৎ There are still times when he tries to coax you into using your power, even if it's for something minor, something fun. He will butter you up, kisses, praising you, sweet nothings spilling from those plush lips of his. You hate that it almost works on you, that you're tempted to play around with your power a little bit. But, you never give in, even if it disappoints him, even if he tries to pout at you, which honestly looks so unnatural for him, it never works.

𓂃۶ৎ However, when you finally do show him the extent of your power, he is in awe, perhaps afraid if he can even feel that. He isn't usually one to give compliments so easily, but that day he praises the very ground you stand on.

[k1ng-ej]

Waves ||Part 2|| Dean winchester x reader

Days turned into weeks, and weeks transitioned into months without a word from Dean. Despite your numerous texts and voicemails, silence echoed back. A dull ache has made itself comfortable in your chest, one you try to wash down with the buzz of your favorite wine. This feeling was one you were all too familiar with, coming home to a space one filled with warmth now reduced to a hollow shell. What used to be a home with Dean had become just a building where you slept and ate. The harsh reminder of his absence every day was a stake to the heart. His mug that sat in your kitchen, collecting dust. His clothes that got mixed with yours in the laundry, the stereo that hasn't been used since he left. The four little walls in your bedroom felt like they were caving in, the reality that Dean might not return plagued your mind.

Weeks passed before you found the strength to gather his clothes and tuck them away in the darkest corners of your closet. Yet, even then, you would stumbled upon a shirt of his occasionally, his scent still haunting the fabric. The idea of donating or selling his belongings felt unbearable, the pain was too fresh. After two months, you finally parted with his stereo and CDs, selling them to an excited teenager who truly loved music. While it comforted you to know they were going to a kind soul, the act still stung deeply.

Eventually, the abyss in your chest took control of you. You took home just about any guy who even remotely showed interest in you, your judgment was clouded by the alcohol in your system, a habit you wished you didn't develop. You couldn't remember a moment where you were purely sober, the lack of Dean's companionship becoming something you couldn't quite cope with.

For five long months, you had been merely surviving, drowning your sorrows in fleeting encounters and empty connections. You hoped these strangers might ease the ache of your loneliness, but their presence was only a brief distraction. Tonight was no different as you stumbled through your front door, lips entwined with a man whose name escaped you. His hands roamed your body, pulling you close, squeezing your waist while planting kisses down your neck. Yet, they weren't Dean's familiar touch or his gentle kisses. He pressed you against the wall, a soft groan slipping from your lips.

If you kept your eyes closed long enough you could imagine it was Dean, right? That it was Dean's hands all over your body, his lips and mouth that were marking your body, his hair your hands were entangled in. It wasn't until your shirt was lifted up and over your head did you hear the door open. Your immediate thought was someone was here to take your jewels and expensive belongings.

Your gaze landed on the figure standing in your doorway, the green eyes that looked at you in shock, and hurt. Your heart dipped in your chest, and you shoved the stranger away from you. You remembered you never had your locks changed, Dean had spare keys for when he would come home in the middle of the night. It was like seeing a ghost, he hadn't changed a bit, his hair was still short, he wore his signature jacket, face still shaven like you preferred. You didn't know how to feel in the moment, angry? happy? confused?

"Shit," You muttered, scrambling to cover yourself all while pushing the stranger in your home toward the front door. "You need to leave, I'm so sorry."

He tried to protest, asking who the hell was walking into your house, he thought you were single, and that you were just getting started. You ignored him, rushing him out of the front door and slamming it behind him. You were left in a tense silence, Dean was standing awkwardly, like he didn't belong here, he looked ready to run out with his tail tucked between his legs. What were you supposed to say? Was he expecting you to stay loyal to him when he hasn't said a single word to you in months? The buzz you were feeling made your head fuzzy, you almost wanted to think you were just imagining him here.

"I see you're moving on." He finally broke the silence, hands sliding into his pockets. He avoided eye contact with you, instead wandering around, inspecting items that weren't here before.

"Move- I'm sorry, moving on?" Your brows knitted together, heart hammering in your chest as you looked at him for the first time, really looked at him. Dark circles kissed his eyes, he looked like he hasn't slept in days. "You ghosted me, Dean. Don't act so surprised."

His mouth opened and closed as he tried to figure out what to say to you, how to apologize, how to explain himself.

"I'm sorry. I am sorry I never reached out. Just- Relationships aren't my thing, I'm not good at them." He sighed, leaned against the doorway to your kitchen. "You know what I do… you know I'm out there saving lives. You're one of the only people I've told what i really do and you've never looked at me funny, never called me a freak or nuts."

You found yourself stepping closer, wanting to reach out and take his hand into yours. But you held back, you couldn't.

"If you can't do this, I understand." He finished, finally meeting your eyes. Something in his gaze told you his feelings haven't changed for you, he still looked at you like you were the most attractive person he's ever seen. And despite the fact you were doing a poor job and shielding yourself with your shirt, he never once looked.

You wanted to resolve things with Dean and navigate any obstacles together. However, you felt uncertain about whether you could truly move past this. You admired Dean for his unconventional approach to saving lives and appreciated his refusal to conform to a typical lifestyle. Yet, it became clear that you couldn't keep pace with him. Despite your previous requests to accompany him and Sam in their endeavors, he had swiftly dismissed the idea, citing the dangers involved. The thought of issuing an ultimatum made you uneasy, as you would hate to force him to choose between his passion and a life with you.

"I-… I don't know what to say." Your voice came out just above a whisper, warm tears prickling the edges of your vision. "I don't know how to work this out. Dean… it's so lonely when you're gone."

Your voice wavered , and the dam of emotions you had tried to restrain finally broke. The alcohol swirling in your system made it nearly impossible to maintain control. Dean watched you closely, concern etched on his face, and without hesitation, he stepped forward, enveloping you in his strong embrace. A part of you wanted to resist, to shove him away. You were still overwhelmed with hurt and anger over his betrayal, desperate to despise him for abandoning you.

In that moment, you surrendered to his embrace, melting into his arms as you sank slowly to your knees, overwhelmed by tears. It had been ages since you cried like this- your sobs wracked your body, leaving streaks of snot on his shirt, yet he remained unfazed. With a gentle hand, he rubbed your back, providing comfort as he quietly soothed you. You longed for this connection, to feel the warmth of his body enveloping yours once again. Yet, even in this comforting embrace, the pain still lingered, and the ache in your chest was still a palpable reminder of your heartache.

"Shh, baby. It's alright, I'm here." He mumbled into your ear, hot breath fanning the side of your face as his arms squeezed around you tighter.

Seconds stretched into eternity before you finally felt like you could collect yourself, the tears slowed, and your mind wasn't fogged by the heartbreak. You were clutching onto Dean like he was your lifeline, if you let go you were afraid you would stop breathing right there. Slowly, you lifted your face from his shoulder.

"If you want to make this work, you have to let me come with you on your jobs."

Deans body stiffened, and you could tell he was fighting the urge to run away from you again.

"I know what you're going to say, it's dangerous, I know. But, please, please. I am begging you." You pleaded, hands resting on his cheeks, which he instinctively melted into, eyes shutting.

"I don't know, sweetheart." He whispered, eyes fluttering open to look at you again. Dean hated the way his chest constricted painfully when the thought of you accompanying him crossed, the images of you, dead, flashing in his head. He would never want to put you in harms way, he would never want you to go through the horrors that he did.

"Either you let me do this, or we are done." Your tone came off harsher than you intended, immediately you bit your lip, apologetically looking at him through your lashes.

"Fine, you got me there." His lips tugged into a smirk, canines barely visible. You hated to admit that look could bring you to your knees. "I'd hate to lose a gem like you, baby."

You smiled before he caught your lips in a tender kiss, his hands finding the back of your head to try and pull you as close as possible to him. You missed this, the faint taste of alcohol on his lips, the smell of the cheap cologne he always wore, you craved it for months and now it's finally in your grasp.

[k1ng-ej]

For one of my manyyyg husbands, Soldier Boy/Ben >:)

Can you do him with an s/o that is the very definition of ‘girly’ and hyper feminine (constantly wears pink, frilly clothing, hair and makeup is always done, etc.) and just adores him? Like, even knowing everything about him and his past, she basically acts like he’s the sweetest thing ever

˖ ֹ੭୧ Soldier Boy with a girly S/O! ⊹ ࣪ ⑅

Note: hihi, thank you for all the requests haha, i absolutely love every single one! soldier boy is a softie here, i hope this is up to your expectations :)!

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ At first, Soldier Boy couldn't quite grasp your essence, your style and personality stood out starkly from everyone else's. Your pink outfits, adorable makeup that made you look like a porcelain doll, and your perfectly styled hair captivated him daily. He found it impossible to think of anything else. You were distinct, and he appreciated that. Although your bubbly attitude and perpetual cheeriness could get on his nerves at times, he welcomed it because your smile was something he never wanted to fade.

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ Soldier boy tried to hide his past from you, reluctant to reveal the circumstances that shaped him into who he became. With you, he yearned to be his best version— a stark departure from his usual attitude, because he was quite okay with the way he was. He didn't care if people thought he was a raging asshole, or a jerk, they could suck it up. But, eventually, he let you in. He was vulnerable. He was showing you a softer layer. You knew you would probably never get another moment like this, you were gentle with him, you listened intently to what he told you about his past. You were nothing but the sweetest with him and treating him with the upmost care, something he hadn't received in a long time. He would show you his appreciation through affectionate gestures, peppering kisses on your jawline, carefully fixing your hair if even one strand was tousled. He knew he didn't deserve such a kind soul like yours, he was so afraid of screwing up. However, any time he did, you forgave him-- a sweet smile spread across your rosy lips, your kind eyes gazing lovingly into his. He would've thought he was the best man on earth, no flaws, no fuck ups, he would've thought he was perfect from the way you treated him.

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ He did horrible things, and you did think he could be a jerk, but he was charming in his own way. Whenever you wore a short, ruffled dress around him you were entering dangerous territory, his gaze lingering on your thighs as you wore thigh high socks that adorned bows, or his large hands squeezing your waist as he pulled you against him. He was not ashamed to tell you how stunning and beautiful you were, or show the world that you were his. He would encourage you to give him personalized fashion shows, instructing you to twirl for him after each dress you would try on or outfit you put together. He would shamelessly stare, taking in every inch of your body, appreciating how your style complimented you immaculately.

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ He would gladly let you adorn his hair with bows or tie ribbons around his arms, caring only about your happiness. But it came with a price. In return, he would pull you in for passionate, fervent kisses, leaving traces of smeared lipstick on his lips, which he welcomed. One hand would weave through your hair, giving a playful tug, while the other rested on your lower back, drawing you nearer.

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ Ben was a different man with you, he was much nicer with you. His demeanor would shift completely during your conversations, his tone softening and his choice of words became more refined. The Boys would stare at you two like you had grown extra heads, they were baffled by your relationship, but more shocked that Ben actually had a nicer side to him. Of course, they were concerned that something bad was happening behind the scenes, but when you confirmed multiple times that you were in a happy, healthy relationship with Ben, they supported you.

[k1ng-ej]

Waves (Dean winchester x reader)

angst, dean is kinda cold and distant lol.

Orange, summery rays of the early morning spilled in through the curtains, gently pulling you from your rest. The soft blanket that was draped lazily over your body and the strong arms wrapped snugly around your waist was an irresistible invitation to return to sleeping. The sleeping figure next to you that began stirring was enough to pull you from your sleepy state.

Dean groaned, his arms pulling you flush against his chest as he planted sleepy kisses on the back of your shoulder.

"Mornin' sleepyhead." You giggled, twisted around in his arms to face him.

"Good morning." His lips curled into a smile, eyes fluttering open to meet your gaze. "Sleep good?"

"Slept amazing." You returned the smile, your hands finding their way to the side of his face, thumb gently caressing his cheek. It was moments like these where you learned to live in the moment, soak up the warmth of Deans body, kiss him one too many times.

The sudden ring of his phone broke the silence, your heart dipped in your chest. The warm arms that embraced you disappeared quicker than you liked, instinctively you tried to snuggle up to his side, but he in the process of sitting up.

Who knew someone's company could be so cold? The bed felt oddly chilly now that Dean was standing, the muscles on his back flexing each time he moved. This routine was exhausting, you knew what you were getting into when you fell head over heels for him, and you were willing to endure the pain and distance that came with dating him, but that little sting you felt in your chest each time his cursed phone would ring was going to send you over the edge.

It felt like riding waves with Dean, all the ups and downs, with his line of work you had no idea when the next time he would be sleeping in your bed was. Sometimes he would be gone for a couple days, other times you wouldn't see him for weeks. At night, when the bed was empty, when there was no Dean to keep you warm, you couldn't help the tears that would slip. He would act so cool, like he didn't miss you one bit when he was out on a job.

"Alright, babe. I've gotta head out." He hung up his call, spinning around to face you and leaning down to place a tender kiss on the crown of your head. While the gesture was sweet, enough to make you melt right then and there, your chest ached.

"Already? It's hardly been a week." The words came out before you could even think, your tone was sharp, and you instantly regretted opening your mouth.

A flash of hurt and guilt glinted in his green eyes, and he quickly averted his gaze. "You know I have to."

"I know, Dean. But, god, it hurts." You were already sitting up in the bed as the words left your mouth, anger and built up resentment was boiling over.

"I- you knew it would be this way when we got together, I warned you." He said, his tone was even, soft maybe. He didn't want to argue with you, and if you wanted to leave the door was wide open.

"I feel like I am just a one night stand for you, I mean… you never give me a call when you're away, you don't check up on me." You sighed, lip trembling despite your best efforts to stop it. "Are you really in for this, Dean? or am I just here when it's convenient for you?"

A thick silence hung in the air, one that weighed too heavy on your heart. You began question how Dean really felt about you, if he would keep putting his life on the line for his job, if he would keep throwing his life away for it.

"Christ, Dean… do you even give a damn about me?" Your voice cracked, eyes stinging with tears. Having this conversation has always been in the back of your mind, you went over all the possibilities of how it would go, if Dean would stay back for you. As you sat in front of him now, dressed in his clothes, watching his expression for anything that might signify how he was feeling, it wasn't how you pictured.

"I do, babe. I do." He rounded the bed, taking a seat in front of you. These were the words you longed to hear, but now as they left his mouth, you couldn't believe them. His hand was placed on your thigh, giving a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

"Then why do you leave me high and dry?"

There was that look again, that look of guilt, and his gaze landed on the floor. You watched his mouth open, then shut. You wondered what was going through his mind right now, if the thought of staying with you even crossed his mind. Did he realize how much you were hurting? How much his distant personality really affected you?

Then, the warmth on your thigh vanished. He leaned away from you, like you were a drunk hitting on him at the bar that he wanted to get away from. A pang in your chest, then a warm tear down your cheek. He couldn't even meet your eyes as he stood, dusting his pants off and began dressing. You have never felt more alone in a relationship, your supposed boyfriend was hardly ever around and when he was… he wasn't all there. You know what he goes through on the job, he's sat you down and told you the horrible things he's experienced, told you how he developed nasty habits to cope.

Dean wasn't perfect, but he was charming, he was flirty, and funny. You liked him, you loved him. You wished he could return those feelings. Your eyes followed him as he dressed into jeans and a gray shirt that was probably one size too small for him. You admired the way the sleeves hugged his arms, his muscle more noticeable. Even despite the way you were feeling now, the pit in your stomach and the aching of your heart, you found him beautiful. How could such a hurtful man be so beautiful.

"I'm sorry."

You barely caught his apology, it was so quiet, said under his breath, you had to strain your ears to hear it. He didn't look at you, he didn't walk over and give you a long, passionate kiss before he left like he always did. Instead, he grabbed his keys and phone, paused in the doorway as if realizing he forgot something, and then he disappeared down the hallway. You so badly want to jump up and stop him from leaving, take his hand into yours, apologize for your sudden outburst. But you sat paralyzed on the bed, all of the hurt you had been feeling keeping you in place, coldness taking over your heart. His footsteps faded away, the door opened, then shut seconds after.

The house was quiet, empty. Cold. There was no rock music blaring over the stereo system you got Dean for his birthday. The house didn't smell of fresh pancakes or bacon, it smelt faintly of his cologne. It was a cheap fragrance, probably bought from a corner store, a hint of something crisp, but there was a woody scent to it. The questioned wormed its way into your mind quicker than you wanted it to. Would Dean even come back after this? Would he ever call to apologize? Was that the last time you would see him?

[k1ng-ej]

Change (Soldier Boy x reader)

Images flashed through your mind. Blood. Lifeless eyes. Bodies. Your chest rose and fell in quick breaths, the world around you fading away as the events from last night played on loop in your head. It was supposed to be a simple mission, make sure Soldier Boy is kept under control while he speaks to The Twins about who gave him away to the russians. Butcher put you in charge of being his babysitter because of your ability. You were basically a copy cat, any Supe you touched with your hand, you could copy their power. Maybe not down to the T, but for Butcher, he believed that was good enough. Soldier Boy had one of his episodes while confronting The Twins, several Supes died at Herogasm and the house was in pieces.

You were almost another body added to the pile had you not jumped behind Soldier Boy.

The entire mission went sideways. Homelander showed up and you were expected to fight him while Butcher was out of comission. It almost costed your life. You haven't been working with the team very long, you often tried to stay as far from Supe drama as possible. But now you were in the middle of it, all because Butcher dug up your past and blackmailed you with it.

You thought you'd never have another persons blood on your hands, but you realized if you were working against Vought and Homelander then lives would be lost. That was a reality you had trouble grasping.

You could still hear the screams and cries of those caught in the crossfire of Soldier Boys outburst. You could still vividly see the bloodied and scorched bodies. You could smell the burnt flesh. You didn't know how long you had been sitting on this couch, how long your fingers had been gripping the cushion that your knuckles were white. When did you start crying?

You barely acknowledged when Hughie came around to check on you, he tried to be comforting and place a hand on your shoulder, but you jumped away like his hand was a flame that burnt you. You didn't even notice the hurt and worry behind his eyes as he walked away. No one knew how to comfort you, or what to say. So they let you sit on the couch, for hours, for a day now. You haven't eaten or had anything to drink. You could slowly start feeling the affects of fatigue creeping up on you, dark circles under your eyes, your eyelids growing heavy. But anytime you closed your eyes, all you could see was the massacre that you had a part in.

Your ears barely picked up the footsteps approaching, something green entered your vision, and then you felt the cushion next to you dip as the person took a seat. You recognized that suit all too well, and you were expecting a rude comment, telling you to suck it up and move on. But it never came. It was quiet, the only sounds cutting through the silence were your shaky breaths.

A warm sensation brushed against your knee, jolting you from your trance. You glanced down at the leg connecting with yours, then hesitantly let your gaze travel up his form, your own body trembling with each inch you approached his face. Stopping just at his chin, you hesitated, wary of the emotions that might wash over you when you met those piercing green eyes. His leg nudged against yours, a gentle reassurance that you didn't have to look up if you weren't ready. You never imagined Soldier Boy to be the type to offer comfort-his interactions had never resembled this before. Could he understand what you were feeling? Had he ever been in your place?

You never cared to look into Soldier Boys past, you hoped once Homelander was dead you'd be able to go back home and not speak to anyone in this group again. But you were beginning to rethink that.

Your gaze dropped to the floor once more, and you felt your body finally begin to relax. You hadn't realized just how tense your muscles had become, but a sensation of lightness gradually enveloped you. Leaning back into the couch, your shoulder brushed against his, and you braced yourself for him to move away or get up. Yet, he remained still. The warmth of another human being, someone alive, anchored you in the moment. The haunting images began to fade, allowing you to focus solely on the gentle pressure against your leg and arm, coupled with the warmth radiating from Soldier Boy. This closeness was deliberate, the couch had ample space for three, ensuring you weren't crammed against each other. His presence was the last thing you anticipated, yet it was comforting. You appreciated that he didn't attempt to offer words of consolation. you were certain that if he spoke, he would only make matters worse. His way with words was far from graceful, every utterance was like an insult. He barely knew what kindness was.

It was comforting to think about, in a really messed up way. Americas former greatest hero, also the biggest jerk you've ever met, sitting next to you and trying to be as comforting as his cold and hateful personality would let him. Maybe there was something softer beneath the surface, something warmer and more relatable.

~~~

should i make a part 2?

[k1ng-ej]

Are u still only taking rqs for michael and vincent?

as of rn yes!

[k1ng-ej]

Are ur rqs open? Ur asks say open but ur post says on hold so i want check before i send anything

hello hello! you can send a request in if youd like! but please be patient with me as i am just getting back into writing after a bit so im rusty and may be slow to getting around to it!!

[k1ng-ej]

not long ago i had asked for fanfic writing servers, i went ahead and made my own.

its for writers and readers, you can share fics, updates, take requests, ask for advice, do writing prints, and talk with others within your fandoms. keep in mind i just made it so its small, but feel free to join if you are interested! :)

i am hoping to see you there!

[k1ng-ej]

I got you for Michael >:) Can you pls do Michael with a fem or gn s/o that is just unabashedly clingy? Like always wants to be around him, hugging him, and is honestly flattered by him following them around everywhere?

Myers with a clingy s/o

Note: ive never done posts in this kind of format, i usually write full on oneshots so this is very different for me. im sorry if its short or lacking

Michael would probably be confused at first, doesn't understand why you constantly want to be around him.

He isn't used to physical affection, so don't expect him to reciprocate. He would push you away at first.

Eventually he will get used to you always hugging him, and will only give you a half hug back. Physical affection isn't his strong suit and he isn't used to it.

Michael is usually the one who follows people around, so when you always end up places he is and you're trailing behind him with a look of curiosity in your eye, there is probably just the smallest blush beneath that horrifying mask, you're either very brave or just stupid for keeping so close to a man who has committed several murders. Either way, he's flattered that you seem to like being around him so much.

If you try to follow him when he goes out he will give you a stern stare and push you back into the house. You're not allowed to follow him when he goes on his sprees. His way of protecting you.

On the rare occasion he sits on the couch with you he will let you lean on him or rest your head in his lap. A lot of the affection is one sided and he doesn't show any discomfort nor like towards your clinginess. He's neutral about it and lets you do what makes you happy.

Overall he is chill, but confused and maybe a little charmed, even though he won't show it.

also my writing discord is still up ^^ join here

[k1ng-ej]

hello! I randomly came across your post about a writing server you've made and I'd be interested in joining, but I can't seem to accept the invite for some reason. Would it be difficult to send me directly an invite please? Hope you have a good day :)

hey! not sure why the link wont work :(

heres a new one