This round ends December 31, 2022, but we are opening sign-ups for the remainder of the bingo. So if you'd like to join in on the fun, fill out the sign up form to receive a card.
Be sure to check out our FAQs and Rules for some insight on what the bingo is about.
Don't like following the rules? Then this bingo is for you! Switch tenses with abandon, ignore those grammar rules (with caution, it still needs to be readable 🤣), forget about finding the perfect phrase, use the prompts on your bingo card and write us some BAD fic.
If you have any questions about the bingo, contact @princessmisery666 or @deanwinchesterswitch.
Characters: Female Reader, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester
Word Count: 415
Summary: You’re in a debate with Dean over text message. And auto correct happens.
Warnings: Second hand embarrassment maybe. Otherwise, none.
Bingo Squares Filled: Emoticons in Fic for How Bad Can It Be Bingo? @howbadcanitbebingo
A/N: While this is just plain silly, it was also surprisingly difficult! I now know dialogue is not my strongest skill and had to throw the emojis in at the very end. Please enjoy this nonsensical madness!
You fumbled with the phone, then nearly spilled the coffee down the front of your blouse.
“Everything okay?” Sam asked, concern already showing on his face. His large hands frozen in midair, ready to assist.
You staggered on a response, jaw working uselessly as words seemed to escape you. Apparently, all coherent thought had vanished as soon as you’d read whatever text you’d received.
Before Sam could peer into the screen, you were quickly shoving it into the back pocket of your jeans and rushing to place the Styrofoam cup on the table behind him.
At the same moment, Dean burst through the door, a string of hard no’s being thrown at the ground before the last one was thrust at you as the two of you met in the doorway.
“That’s not what I meant!”
“I figured, it’s fine!”
The wildness in Dean’s eyes and the way you looked at everything in the room but Dean, Sam crossed his arms and tried to piece it together. With a finger pointed in Dean’s direction, he asked:
“Did you…send her a dick pic?” 🤔
“No!” The two of you shouted as one, the embarrassment and outrage doing nothing to quell the laughter bubbling up in Sam’s chest.
“Then what’s going on?”
“Nothing, it’s nothing.” You tried to brush it off and step around Dean to the door.
“It was a typo, that’s all,” Dean continued to plea his case, even as he stepped aside for you, only to then get in your way.
Defeated, you looked up at Dean, your cheeks burning. The two of you seemed to be having a silent conversation, one in which Dean was asking for your understanding and you were willing to, just super embarrassed by it all.
“Can I read it?” Sam finally asked when neither of you actually said anything.
You and Dean looked at Sam and that seemed to break whatever awkwardness there was between you. Because while Dean was about to wave Sam off and dismiss the whole thing, you were already pulling your phone back out and stepping towards Sam.
“Hey,” Dean reached out as if to grab and hold you back but decided against it at the last second. With a grimace, he resigned himself to his fate. 💀
Sam read silently to himself and when his eyebrows shot up, he stared at Dean incredulously.
“Taste her? Wow, man, should I leave?” 💩
“It was supposed to say “tase”!” 😫 Dean grumbled as you and Sam burst into laughter.
Oh, Yvette, that was hilarious. I was trying to figure out what it could be but never imagined that. I could perfectly envision Dean's face as he threw the door open, shouting no. 🤣🤣🤣
Hello, I was just wondering something. On your FAQ post, it says that we can ask about other fandoms. Would I be able to write for Good Omens, in that case?
A/N: I formally pre-apologize for what I’m about to do but I do fix it all in the same fic because I’ve tortured you guys a few times now with making you wait and I really need this to be a one-shot.
Tag lists are through. Please follow @coleslibrary and turn on notifications for updates.
Bob led his girlfriend, Laura, through the meadow, his fingers entwined with hers as he guided them to the picnic spot he’d set up.
“Bob, where are we going?” she asked for the tenth time, her tone getting more and more impatient.
“We’re almost there, honey,” he cooed. He could see the picnic blanket spread under his favorite tree, the one he’d been running to since he was a kid. It was a special place for him; this would only be the second time he shared it with someone.
“I’m tired of walking,” she sighed.
Bob ignored her outburst, knowing that everything would be worth it and forgotten soon enough. “Here we are,” he smiled as he pulled her in front of him, facing her towards the romantic date he’d planned with the help of his best friend, Y/N.
“This is different,” Laura commented as she looked around, seeing her favorite flowers, her favorite champagne, her favorite fruits and vegetables and cheeses.
“Mhmm,” he hummed, placing a kiss under her ear. “I wanted today to be special. Come on, let’s sit.”
They sat on the blanket and snacked, silence filling the space between them. Bob watched her closely, happy to be in his favorite spot with his girlfriend.
“Hey, Laura,” he said, slipping his hand into his pocket discreetly. “Did I ever tell you what was special about his place?”
“No,” she sighed again, facing him with a blank expression.
“It’s the one place I’ve always found peace. When I needed a break when I was a kid, I’d come here and just sit. Even now, as an adult, I come here when I need to think. But I find peace somewhere else. I find peace with you.” He pulled his hand out of his pocket before continuing. “You make me want to be a better person. I would run out of breath trying to describe all the ways I love you. I could call anywhere home as long as you’re with me. I love you, Laura. Will you marry me?”
Bob held out his hand, a simple diamond ring laying in his palm. Laura was quiet, her face unreadable. The soft smile that had been etched on Bob’s face since he picked her up fell away. He closed his fingers around the ring and pulled his hand back, his heart shattering. He knew her answer.
“Bob, I’m really sorry,” she started.
“Don’t,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I thought we were on the same page. I was so sure you’d say yes.” He started packing up the remaining food, trying to hide his pain by keeping his face down. “I can’t believe I shared my spot with you. Over a year of my life just…”
“I wish there was something I could say,” Laura whispered.
“Yeah, well, there’s nothing,” he snapped.
“I just don’t see a future with you,” she continued.
Bob froze in his actions, hanging his head and squeezing his eyes shut, taking long, even breaths to calm himself. "So why stay as long as you did, Laura?"
"I thought…" she started, pausing when she needed to rethink her words. "I hoped that my instincts were wrong. The day that you approached me I saw it. The way you looked at Y/N. You've never looked at me that way. I just couldn't…I didn't want to be right. I didn't want to let you go."
"How did I look at her?" he whispered, confused and heartbroken.
"Like she's the first drop of rain in a drought, the first gasping breath after you wipe out. The one thing that can save you from dying." Laura's voice wavered and she shuffled, standing and resting her hand on his shoulder. "I do love you, Bob. But I can't compete with her."
Laura strode across the meadow, leaving Bob in his favorite spot, alone, grieving a love he thought was forever and wondering if that girl had been in front of him the whole time.
The clock struck midnight and Y/N rubbed her eyes, slipping the photo strip into her book as a placeholder. She stretched with a groan and stood from her spot in the living room, looking out of the window to see that it had started raining while she was engrossed in the story of childhood friends turned lovers.
Her eyes lingered on the photo sticking out, her and Bob at the arcade, making ridiculous faces. The strip was wildly appropriate to use as a bookmark; she had been friends with Bob since they were in middle school, one of the only people to still call him Robby. Somewhere along the way, she fell in love with him, realizing it shortly after he got serious with Laura.
He proposed to her. Y/N helped him plan everything. Laura was going to accept and she'd help plan the wedding and hide her broken heart as long as she could.
Y/N switched the lamp off and quietly walked towards her bedroom. As she stepped into the short hallway, a pounding sounded through her apartment.
She froze in her spot, completely terrified. Should she try to get her phone and call 911? Call Robby? Check and see who it was?
Did she have a weapon? An escape route?
Another knocking made her jump, her shoulders relaxing slightly when she heard a voice call through the closed door.
"It's Robby. Open up, I need to talk to you."
She breathed a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding, her head a little dizzy with relief. She rushed to the door and unlocked it, throwing it open to see her best friend standing in the rain, alone, the expression on his face unreadable.
"Robby, what are you doing? Get out of the rain," she insisted, gripping his forearm and pulling him inside. "You're soaked. Let me get you a towel."
Bob stared at the spot where her hand had been, turning his arm slightly. The spot she'd wrapped her fingers around was warm, tingling, where the rest of him was shivering from the fall rain.
"Here, dry off," she said when she came back in, two towels in her hands.
Bob lifted his head slowly and met her gaze, his lips parting as if seeing her for the first time. "She was right," he muttered with a scoff.
"Who was right? Robby, what's going on?"
"Laura said no," he told her quietly.
"What?!" she exclaimed. There was no way Laura turned him down. Everything was perfect. He was perfect.
"She said she didn't see a future with me," he continued, "that I wasn't as in love with her as I thought I was."
"That's ridiculous," Y/N scoffed as she unfolded a towel and started drying off his arms. He was obviously upset and hurt and needed her help.
"I thought so too, at first." His eyes never left her face as she patted the towel around his hands. "But she said that I was in love with someone else. And I still didn't believe it once she said it. I sat there for hours under that tree. Did you know it started raining about two hours ago?"
"It's been raining that long? I've been sucked into the latest story I'm reading. But back up," she said, "Laura thinks you're in love with someone else?"
"Yeah," he confirmed. "And she's right."
"She is? Who?"
Bob slipped his hand around her neck and pulled her close, his lips finding hers with a roughness borne from years of pent up longing and passion. His arm slipped around her waist, pulling her close, molding her body to his.
She melted against him, the rainwater seeping through her clothes ignored as she pressed herself against him, her arms wrapping around his neck. The towel dropped to the floor as Bob turned them, pressing her back against the wall and swiping his tongue across her bottom lip.
She moaned quietly as she parted her lips, allowing him to deepen the kiss. The heady sensation buckled her knees and her head spun, overwhelmed with the sensation of his chest pressed against hers, keeping her from falling to the floor.
The painful burning in their lungs forced them apart, their eyes fluttering open as their heaving breaths mingled in the miniscule space between their lips.
“I -” she started.
“Wow,” he interrupted with a whisper.
“Please don’t be a dream,” she begged, “I can’t bear it if it’s just a dream.”
“It’s not a dream,” he promised as his hand cupped her cheek, “it’s real. It’s you. It’s always been you. I was just too stupid to see it.”
“Are you enlightened, then?” she teased as her fingers played with the ends of his hair, goosebumps erupting on his neck.
“I’m the wisest man on Earth,” he smirked as he dipped his head down, capturing her lips once again.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Title: Blame it on me [or blame it on you]
Rating: Explicit
Ships: Steddie
Tags/Warnings: first meeting, get together, first time, AU, no Upside Down, abuse of pop music, happy ending massage
Description: AU in which Steve is trying to go into politics and he's terribly stressed, so his mother forces him to go to a spa, where he meets beautician! Eddie and his life will never be the same.
Extra notes: it's the 'Crack taken seriously' square from the 'How bad can it be' Bingo
Length: Less than 5k
Thank you @howbadcanitbebingo for organizing this!!
Hi All, just a quick check in to say hope the muses are being kind to you all.
Myself and Kym have been busy with life and following our own muses so we feel we may have neglected the bingo a little.
I've searched the tag - #Howbadcanitbebingo to make sure we've reblogged all entry's so far, but if you have posted and we haven't reblogged please let us know.
Reminder - we have a discord server, there is no pressure to interact but makes it easier to share links to ensure Tumblr doesn't miss anything in the tags🙂just let us know and we can send an invite.
A/N: Story got inspired by this ask.👇 Thank you tiktok anon. 🥰😍
Title: Emergency daddy style
Square Filled for @howbadcanitbebingo: Overly dramatic (character or entire fic)
Summary: Dean lost something important.
Rating: Teen
Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader
Characters: Sam Winchester
Warnings: angst, scared Dean, a hint of crack!fic, fluff, daddy!Dean
Wordcount: 700+
Divider @firefly-graphics
Multifandom Bingos & Special Collections
“No, no! Not good! Red alert Sammy! RED ALERT!” Dean panics. “SAMMY! HELP ME! THEY ARE GONE!” He freaks out.
“Where is the fire!” Sam runs into the library, shotgun in his hands, ready to attack any enemy who managed to slip inside the bunker. “What’s wrong? Where is the intruder?”
Summary: When her shop is trashed and robbed, Y/n is scared to go to work. Fortunately, a superhero offers help and protection. But those services aren’t free. And one day, he reclaims his payment.
Word Count: 4238
Pairing: Soldier Boy x F!Reader
Warning: SMUT, dub-con, p in v, unprotected sex, manipulation, coercion, grooming, Soldier Boy being an asshole very full of himself, break in, robbery, toxic masculinity
A/n: Hello everyone! So this fic was requested by @lifeissomethingelse! I really wanted to set up this fic in the 1980, but then, historically, it wouldn’t work. There wasn’t really any pastry shop back then, let alone owned by a woman. So for the purpose of this fic and the bingo how bad can it be, I decided… Fuck it! Enjoy, and let me know your thoughts about it! This was also for @writercole millennial challenge with the song (You drive me) Crazy by Britney Spears!
Appealing for Protection-Chapter 11 ~ @writercole. Author's Summary: Y/N is the CEO of one of the planet’s largest video game development companies. When she starts receiving death threats frequently, her CFO demands she has a bodyguard. Can the two work through their mutual hatred of one another in time to save her life?
Christmas on Parole ~ @winchester-girl67. Author's Summary: Just when the reader thought she would never see Dean Winchester again, he comes strolling back into town stirring up all sorts of old feelings. But will that be enough to get him a second chance with her or will she hang onto the anger she’s had for the past ten years.
Cock-A-Doodle-Doo ~ @winchester-girl67. Author's Summary: The reader has an earache and takes matters into her own hands when the boys leave her behind on a hunt. Things take a wild turn when they return to the bunker and Dean tries to comfort her when the pain becomes too much.
Dream a little dream of me ~ @holylulusworld. Author's Summary: It’s your birthday and one of your favorite fantasies comes true.
Drowning in Silence ~ @justagirlinafandomworld. Author's Summary: Silence feeds the insecurities deep within. You can either drown in it, or break it.
Finished ~ @idreamofplaid. Author's Summary: Sam’s life has taken a decisive turn.
Kiss Me At Midnight ~ winchester-girl67. Author's Summary: The reader finds herself stuck in an elevator with her boss, Dean Smith, on New Year’s Eve.
Stupid Cupid ~ @winchester-girl67. Author's Summary: Dean’s upset when a Cupid marks him with an arrow but not his soulmate, or so he thinks. As he struggles to come to terms, he calls her everything other than her actual name, though maybe that’s just a part of getting struck by true love.
The New Neighbor ~ @holylulusworld. Author's Summary: A new neighbor moved to town.
Without a Stitch ~ @raidens-realm. Author's Summary: While Dean’s on a hunt, Sam stays behind with a cold. The Bunker seems bent on ridding him of far more than a virus and only when he gets the situation under control does he begin to glean it’s true intent.
The Boys
When Reality is Worse than the Lies they told Me ~ @kickingitwithkirk. Author’s Summary: The Boys have come to hide out with you
Hello! I had a question. Or maybe two. So in the rules, it says the fandoms we can write for and some other rules. In the fandoms, it's not written we can write for The Boys or Ten Inch Hero, but I've seen fanfics for those too. Can we write for those? (asking for a friend cough cough ok it's for me)
Also, in the rules, it says no RPF, but again, I saw a fanfic written with an actor.
I'm just asking to know if perhaps the rules have changed?
I ask before posting a fic that's why! Just wanted to make sure :)
Thank you! Have a nice day!
Hello. Thank you for asking before posting your fic(s). Initially, we had limited the fandoms as there are some that neither of us read. However, we have posted that if you want to write for a fandom that is not listed, to ask first. We’re pretty flexible and are okay with fics for The Boys and Ten Inch Hero.
Regarding RPF, we know we messed up accepting that one, and we apologize. We prefer no RPF, but if the fic involves other characters and is not solely focused on the actor, we will accept it. If you’re unsure about your fic, feel free to contact @deanwinchesterswitch or @princessmisery666 before posting it. <3
Squares: OOC @howbadcanitbebingo // Dom!Priestley - Priestley Custom bingo // Mechanic AU TMAS Bingo @supernatural-jackles // Choking @writing-in-the-dark-bingo // Face Fucking @j3bingo
Words: 1113
Warnings: 18+. Oral (m receiving), degradation, rough sex, choking, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), sass
A/N: This is dropping a little early because I’m going to be on vacation when it was supposed to drop! Enjoy. Divider by the fabulous @firefly-graphics
The deep growl of the motorcycle cut through the quiet night as it sped into the gated lot. The rider kicked the thin bar down and propped the bike up before removing their helmet and shaking their head, fluffing up their hair before swinging their leg over their leg over the bike and strutting into the office.
“Hey, chicka,” Jen called from her computer as the rider walked into the building.
“Hey,” Y/N grunted as she hung her leather jacket on the hook near the door.
“Oh, no. I know that tone,” Jen said, turning around in her chair. “What happened?”
“Just a shitty day with shittier people and now my bike has a shimmy,” Y/N grumbled.
“Priestley is still here,” Jen informed her as she grabbed her jacket and walked to the door, throwing a sly smile over her shoulder as she stepped out.
*Do not read if you find anything offensive-triggering about/on/from The Boys series
Warnings: cursing, verbal arguments, loads of marajuna, cursing, sexist Supe, more cursing, physical altercations, knife wielding, still cursing, outdated slang, toxic male attitudes, lots of cursing, reader has a secret, Soldier Boy thinking he’s the man
*additional tags to be added in next parts
Square Filled: @howbadcanitbebingo -OOC to the max
A/N: I’m using season 3 as a template for this so it will contain spoilers from the series mixed with original ideas
A/N II: this was originally a one shot but have so many notes/ideas jotted down it’ll now be multi-part, just not sure how many
*gif credit to creator
Part I
2:54 AM
There is a surreal picture happening in front of you.
Three duffel bags, a brass colored, eagle emblemed shield are sitting on the floor, Hughie and Butcher are arguing about something as Soldier Boy is casually leaning against a door-jam lighting up a ginormous joint.
“Butcher, please explain why a fucking dead man is standing in my living room smoking Sasquatch's doobie and does you being here have anything to do with that shitshow in Vermont?”
“Yeah, sorry about this love,” Butcher says, “our little trip turned into a cock up in a tin hat and was hoping you’re in a position to help us out..”
“This is bullshit!” The Supe interrupted, “there’s got to be better places than this,” pointedly waves the joint, “middle of bumfuck nowhere..” he continues ranting and you detect something new laced through his deep voice that wasn’t there before.
“Oi, tosser, show the lady some respect. If you'd kept your prick in your pants instead of the help, Legend wouldn't have given us the boot.”
“Wow..talk about recycling.”
Soldier Boy sneers at your comment.
“Look Granny Fucker, I still don’t give two shits about your tiff with Payback but you best remember..I gave your radioactive arse Crimsom Countess and TNT Twins on a fucking platter and how’d you repay it? By loosing your shit and blowing up fucking Herogasm! So if I say we’re laying low for a bit longer..”
Butcher continues running his mouth then does the universal dumbass maneuver men can’t stop themselves from doing..getting right up in the Supes grill. You knew this had to be stopped before the Supe lost his shit and destroyed your home too.
“Godfuckingdammit you dillholes knock the macho man bullshit off!”
Soldier Boy's eyes are suddenly locked on you, darkening into a fierce viridian color as a rage bubbles up that wasn’t there seconds ago, making Butcher step back holding up his hands when Hughie suddenly disappears.
You felt a continuous current skittering over your skin as if the oxygen is being drawn out of the room when it dawns on you; you’re perceiving his new abilities from the decades of torturous experimentations done by the Russians when something behind you snapped his concentration.
Unsheathing the blade you always kept on your person whip around when Butcher grabs your wrist..how the fuck did he just stop your death blow to..Hughie?
A very naked, guilty looking Hughie quickly covers his junk.
“Kitchen Now!!!”
Slamming the pocket doors dividing the rooms shut does nothing to muffle your yelling.
“Fucking hell Butcher, you dumbfucks are shooting Temp V! How is it possible you motherfucking cunts have gotten even more stupid and for what..to get Homelander? You’d risk permanently fucking yourself up with that untested shit and take Hughie down too? I don’t know where to..and Soldier Boy..you’ve gone off the rails with that one. Goddamn it..you better start thinking with that lump three feet above your ass ‘cause this path..it’s gonna get us all dead you arrogant sonuvabitch!”
“If you’re done running that fucking mouth I can explain..”
Hughie quickly redressed and pressed his ear against the door trying to hear the now subdued conversation while Soldier Boy made himself comfortable kicking back in the oversized recliner.
“Take a load off kid, they’re gonna be at it awhile. So, how do you know?” He gestures toward the doors.
“Y/N..she was one of the original members Mallory recruited.”
“Hmm, gotta hand it to Captain Lesbos, she sure knew how’ta pick’em.” He lights up another joint, “that one there, grade A choice piece of ass.”
Hughie gaped at him, “what? You can’t tell me you haven’t rubbed one out fantasizing about that sweet pussy.”
“My god, you really need to get up to speed on how women are treated today because that attitude..”
“Fuck, you guys nowadays, really have lost your balls,” the Supe took a long drag, “don’t sweat it kid, stick with me and you’ll grow them back. Look at Butcher, he’s old school so he’ll set her straight.”
“What the hell does that mean-set her straight?”
“In my day when a woman got her feathers ruffled, you had to pacify them.”
“Pacify them?”
“You know..soothe the waters by using a bit of flattery, sweet talk them if you need to, remind them they needn't to worry their pretty heads about anything but looking good for you. And if that didn’t work, get a bit rough, remind them what a man’s for.”
Hughie’s eyebrows shot up, “holy mother of god, you really are a chauvinistic dinosaur,” he’s remarking as the doors reopened, “better than being a pussyboy,” the Supe shot back.
Butcher enters with a cat that ate the cream expression, “told ya,” the Supe crowed.
You shot the Supe a dirty look, “While you’re staying here, there’s a few ground rules: do not enter any room that’s locked. Also, I’m not a maid so clean up after yourselves and at mealtimes, y'all help out or do without.”
As you continue Butcher grabs his duffel and tossed Hughie his, “you guys have the second floor, pick whatever room you want. Oh, and don’t touch any of the decor, just assume it’s lethal because most of it is.”
“And Hughie, next time you jump around me, you’d better have figured out how to keep your pants on or,” pointedly peering down at his crotch, “Annie’s gonna be referring to you as her ex-girlfriend.”
Hughie’s blanching made Butcher bark out a laugh, pushing him towards the stairs, “no worries love, he’ll mind his P’s, Q’s and knickers.”
Once they're out of earshot you turn to face the Supe who’s haunted your memories for decades and who’s now made himself quite comfortable in your favorite chair.
“You awaiting an engraved invitation, your hindass.”
“That’s quite a mouth you’ve got on you.”
“Been told I'm a talented..”
“Oralator?”
“Let’s get a few things straight jag off. I overheard what you said and those antiquated beliefs of yours don’t rattle me, I’m no shrinking violet.”
It’s taken a chance but you place your hands on the chair arms leaning towards him, “I won’t tolerate any of your bullshit. Man, the stuff I’ve heard about what you did to your teammates when you thought they were gonna upstage..”
You didn’t finish because your breath is momentarily interrupted from hitting the wall across the room felt him vibrating with anger and his knife against your jugular.
“SHUT UP YOU STUPID MOTHERFUCKING BITCH ASS CUNT!”
“BLOW IT OUT YOUR BARRACKS BAG!”
“Oi..do we have a problem?”
Butchers standing halfway down the stairs glowering over the rail at the knife wielding Supe so you plaster on your sweetest, fake ass smile, “no problem, just a misunderstanding we’re getting sorted..right?”
The Supe resheathed his knife, “yeah..we’re good.”
It’s easy to see Butcher doesn’t believe either of you but doesn’t push it goes back upstairs then the Supe slapped both his hands flat on the wall by your shoulders boxing you between them.
The fierceness in Soldier Boys eyes is dissipating, he’s now unabashedly checking out your body, biting on his bottom lip.
These switches in demeanor are given you whiplash.
“Nobody’s said that to me since WWII. Makes me curious,” his voice becoming gentler as he slowly lowered his head, “where’d a foxy thing like you pick up that slang?”
Popping the top buttons off your sleep shirt he slips the loosened material over a shoulder buries his face into the curve of your neck inhaling your scent. His breath shifts, coming out in warm puffs on your skin, “why do you smell so fucking good?”
His beard is softer than you would’ve imagined as it brushes over your skin as his full lips glide over your neck, “getting me all worked up here baby,” rolls his hardening length against your thigh.
The rush of arousal coursing through you is interrupted by a deep, almost cramp like sensation that snaps you out of your hormone laden stuper.
You place both hands against his Kevlar, “okay big boy, need to shift it back into neutral.”
He pulls back genuinely baffled, “just because you know how to flip a girl's switch doesn’t mean she’s ready to drop her knickers.”
The heat in his eyes blew out and his expression turned sour.
“Cocktease.”
You grip the Kevlar chest piece and spun him into the storage door under the stairs splintering it.
“While you’re a guest in my home, I expect to be treated with decency and respect.”
Taking a calculated risk, you release the still shocked Supe but don't put any distance between you.
“There’s a difference between being a man, I’m not talking about what’s being sold today, but a genuine one, who’s not only strong but earns and reciprocates the respect of others.”
Soldier Boy opens his mouth to shoot out one of his retorts when you can’t suppress the flinch of pain crossing your features stops him short and, once again, shifts gears, a concerned look crosses his perfect features as he sniffs the air confused, “are you alright?”
“Being woken up before the butt crack of dawn never agrees with me,” you smart off, hoping he’ll buy the ruse. “Well, this has been stimulating but I need my beauty sleep.”
You turn heading for your room at the back of the house feeling his eyes watching you, trying to suss out what just happened between you two.
Pausing at your bedroom door, turn to look back at him.
“You’re not the lost cause they think you are Ben.”
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