Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Reader has spent months convincing herself that Ben is just a friend.
Unfortunately, her heart has other ideas.
Between shared routines, stolen glances, and one particularly inconvenient comment from a customer, she finally begins to understand what Ben has become to her.
The answer is both terrifying and wonderfully simple.
He’s home.
And for the first time, neither of them looks away.
Notes:
Inspired by the song Daylight by Taylor Swift.
AO3 link
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
~~~~~~~~~~
For the longest time, you thought Soldier Boy was intimidating.
Not scary. Just… Large.
A very large man with a permanent scowl and the emotional range of an annoyed brick wall.
Then you met Ben.
And everything became complicated.
Because Ben was different.
Ben laughed.
Ben remembered things.
Ben showed up every day pretending he wasn’t showing up every day.
And somewhere between coffee cups and rainy afternoons, you’d stopped seeing him as Soldier Boy altogether.
Now he was just… Ben.
Which should’ve made things easier.
Instead it made everything worse.
Because now you liked him.
A lot.
Embarrassingly so.
The realization arrived on a Tuesday.
Not during some dramatic moment. Not during a life-threatening event.
You were simply rearranging books when a customer walked up.
“Your boyfriend’s outside.”
You blinked.
“My what?”
The woman pointed through the window.
You looked.
And there he was.
Ben.
Standing across the street holding two coffees.
Waiting.
The sight made your heart do something deeply inconvenient.
“Oh.”
The customer smiled.
“Cute.”
You immediately hated her.
Because now you couldn’t stop thinking about it.
Boyfriend.
The word followed you for the rest of the day.
And it became increasingly difficult to ignore.
Especially when Ben walked inside.
Especially when he handed you your favorite coffee without asking.
Especially when he remembered exactly how much sugar you liked.
Again.
Always.
He always remembered.
“You okay?” Ben asked.
You nearly dropped the coffee.
“Why?”
“You’ve been staring at me.”
Oh.
Mortifying.
You looked away immediately.
“Sorry.”
Ben frowned.
“You don’t have to apologize.”
Easy for him to say.
He wasn’t the one realizing he was hopelessly attracted to his best friend.
The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur.
You tried reading. Failed.
Tried working. Failed.
Tried ignoring the fact that Ben existed.
Failed spectacularly.
The problem was that everything reminded you of him.
Every shelf. Every chair. Every corner of the bookstore.
He’d somehow become part of the place.
Part of your routine.
Part of your life.
And when had that happened?
When had seeing him become the highlight of your day?
When had his smile become your favorite thing?
When had you started looking for him every time the bell above the door rang?
You didn’t know.
Only that it had happened.
Quietly.
Completely.
Much like falling asleep.
One moment you’re awake.
The next you’re somewhere else entirely.
That evening, the bookstore closed early.
The sky was painted gold and pink.
The rain from the previous days had finally disappeared.
For once, the city felt peaceful.
You and Ben ended up walking together.
Neither of you in any particular hurry.
The conversation drifted lazily.
Books. Movies. Nothing important.
Everything important.
At one point your hands brushed.
Accidentally.
You felt it immediately.
So did he.
Because both of you abruptly stopped talking.
The silence stretched.
Neither moving away.
Neither moving closer.
Just… Waiting.
The evening light painted everything gold.
Ben looked different in it.
Softer.
Less like a legend. More like a man.
And suddenly you understood something.
For months you’d been looking at him through fear. Through assumptions. Through stories.
But somewhere along the way, all of that had disappeared.
You didn’t see Soldier Boy anymore.
You saw Ben.
The man who brought you coffee. The man who remembered your favorite flower. The man who waited until you locked the bookstore before leaving. The man who smiled when he thought nobody was looking.
And God help you.
You loved him.
The realization hit all at once.
Bright. Warm. Certain.
Like sunlight.
Ben must’ve seen something change in your expression.
Because his eyes softened.
“Hey.”
Your heart skipped.
“Hey.”
Neither of you looked away.
For the first time.
Neither of you hid.
The city faded into the background.
The noise. The traffic. The people.
Gone.
There was only Ben.
And the way he was looking at you.
Like you mattered.
Like you always had.
Slowly—
Carefully—
He reached for your hand.
Giving you every opportunity to pull away.
You didn’t.
His fingers intertwined with yours.
Warm. Steady.
Real.
A breath caught in your throat.
“Ben…”
Your voice came out softer than intended.
His gaze dropped briefly to your lips.
Then returned to your eyes.
A question.
Not a demand. Not an expectation.
A question.
You answered by stepping closer.
That was all it took.
His hand rose carefully to your cheek.
As if you were something precious. Something fragile.
Something worth protecting.
And then he kissed you.
Gentle.
Almost unbelievably gentle.
The complete opposite of everything people assumed about him.
No rush. No desperation. No performance.
Just warmth.
Just Ben.
The kiss lasted only a few seconds.
But when you pulled apart, neither of you moved very far.
Foreheads touching. Breathing the same air.
For a moment, neither of you spoke.
Then Ben laughed quietly.
The sound surprised both of you.
“What?” You asked.
His smile widened.
“Nothing.”
A pause.
Then:
“I think you’re my favorite person.”
Your face immediately burned.
“That’s a terrible line.”
“It worked.”
You laughed.
And standing there beneath the fading sunlight, hand in hand with the man you’d accidentally fallen in love with, you realized something.
For months, you’d been afraid of what Ben was.
A supe. A celebrity. A legend.
But love wasn’t any of those things.
Love was coffee waiting for you in the morning.
Love was remembered conversations.
Love was showing up. Again. And again. And again.
And maybe, just maybe—
You didn’t want to be defined by the things that frightened you anymore.
Maybe you wanted to be defined by this instead.
By him.
By the warmth of his hand in yours.
By the golden light stretching across the city.
By the certainty in your chest.
For the first time, you understood exactly what the future looked like.
After their first kiss, the reader struggles to return to “normal.” Ben keeps showing up, pretending nothing has changed, but his eyes and his actions betray him. The tension grows unbearable until he finally admits the truth: he’s not going anywhere. For the reader, it’s both terrifying and comforting — because love isn’t just a choice anymore. It’s gravity.
Notes:
Inspired by the song Gravity by Sara Bareilles.
AO3 link
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
~~~~~~~~~~
The kiss should have been the climax. The end of the story. The moment everything finally made sense. But instead, it felt like the beginning. Because once you’d kissed Ben, once you’d felt the warmth of his hand against your cheek and the steady weight of his presence, you realized something terrifying. You didn’t want to go back.
The next morning, you woke up earlier than usual. Not because of work. Not because of errands. But because you couldn’t stop replaying the night before. The bookstore. The walk. The golden light. The kiss. It looped endlessly in your mind, each detail sharper than the last. And beneath all of it, one undeniable truth pulsed like a heartbeat. You were in love.
Ben showed up at the bookstore again that afternoon. Of course he did. He always did. But this time, everything was different. Because now you knew. And now he knew you knew.
He walked in carrying two coffees, same as always, but when he handed yours over, his fingers lingered against yours just a fraction longer than usual. It was enough to make your pulse spike. Enough to remind you that last night hadn’t been a dream.
“Morning,” he said. His voice was casual. Too casual. Like he was trying to pretend nothing had changed. But his eyes betrayed him. Because they softened when they landed on you. Because they lingered longer than they should have. Because they carried the weight of someone who had already crossed a line and couldn’t go back.
You tried to act normal. You failed. Spectacularly.
Every time he leaned against the counter, you remembered the way his lips had brushed yours. Every time he smiled, you remembered the way his hand had cupped your cheek. Every time he looked at you, you remembered the way he’d laughed afterward, quiet and unguarded, like he’d finally let himself breathe.
It was unbearable. And wonderful. And terrifying.
The day passed in fragments. Customers came and went. Books were sold. Shelves were rearranged. But none of it mattered. Because every second was defined by Ben. By the way he hovered near you without hovering. By the way he pretended to browse while clearly waiting for you to finish your tasks. By the way he seemed to know exactly when you needed a break, sliding a coffee across the counter without a word.
At one point, you caught him staring. Not casually. Not accidentally. But openly. Like he’d given up pretending.
You froze. He didn’t.
Instead, he tilted his head slightly, as if considering something. Then he smiled. Small. Quiet. Dangerous. Because it made your heart stumble.
“Stop looking at me like that,” you muttered, trying to hide your face behind a stack of books.
“Like what?” he asked, voice low.
“Like…” You struggled for words. “Like you know something I don’t.”
His smile widened. “Maybe I do.”
You hated him. You loved him. You hated that you loved him.
The rest of the week unfolded in the same rhythm. Ben showing up. Ben pretending not to show up. Ben remembering things he shouldn’t remember. Ben making you laugh when you didn’t want to. Ben looking at you like you were the only person in the room.
It was gravity. Unavoidable. Unrelenting. Pulling you closer no matter how hard you tried to resist.
And then came Friday night.
The bookstore was quiet. The city outside was loud. But inside, it was just the two of you.
You were shelving books when Ben appeared beside you. Too close. Always too close.
“Need help?” he asked.
“No,” you said automatically.
Together, you worked in silence. Until suddenly, his hand brushed yours again. Accidentally. Not accidentally.
You froze. He didn’t.
Instead, he leaned closer. So close you could feel the warmth of his breath against your ear.
“You’re terrible at pretending,” he murmured.
Your heart stopped. “What?”
“You keep acting like nothing’s changed.” His voice was steady. “But it has.”
You swallowed hard. “Ben…”
He turned then, fully facing you, eyes sharp and soft all at once.
“I’m not asking for anything,” he said quietly. “I just… I need you to know. I’m not going anywhere.”
The words hit harder than the kiss. Because they weren’t romantic. They weren’t dramatic. They weren’t even particularly eloquent.
But they were certain. And certainty was something you hadn’t felt in a long time.
You stared at him, heart pounding, and realized something else. You believed him.
Which was terrifying. Because believing him meant trusting him. And trusting him meant risking everything.
But when his hand found yours again, steady and warm, you didn’t pull away.
Reader has spent months convincing herself that Ben is just a friend.
Unfortunately, her heart has other ideas.
Between shared routines, stolen glances, and one particularly inconvenient comment from a customer, she finally begins to understand what Ben has become to her.
The answer is both terrifying and wonderfully simple.
He’s home.
And for the first time, neither of them looks away.
Notes:
Inspired by the song Daylight by Taylor Swift.
AO3 link
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
~~~~~~~~~~
For the longest time, you thought Soldier Boy was intimidating.
Not scary. Just… Large.
A very large man with a permanent scowl and the emotional range of an annoyed brick wall.
Then you met Ben.
And everything became complicated.
Because Ben was different.
Ben laughed.
Ben remembered things.
Ben showed up every day pretending he wasn’t showing up every day.
And somewhere between coffee cups and rainy afternoons, you’d stopped seeing him as Soldier Boy altogether.
Now he was just… Ben.
Which should’ve made things easier.
Instead it made everything worse.
Because now you liked him.
A lot.
Embarrassingly so.
The realization arrived on a Tuesday.
Not during some dramatic moment. Not during a life-threatening event.
You were simply rearranging books when a customer walked up.
“Your boyfriend’s outside.”
You blinked.
“My what?”
The woman pointed through the window.
You looked.
And there he was.
Ben.
Standing across the street holding two coffees.
Waiting.
The sight made your heart do something deeply inconvenient.
“Oh.”
The customer smiled.
“Cute.”
You immediately hated her.
Because now you couldn’t stop thinking about it.
Boyfriend.
The word followed you for the rest of the day.
And it became increasingly difficult to ignore.
Especially when Ben walked inside.
Especially when he handed you your favorite coffee without asking.
Especially when he remembered exactly how much sugar you liked.
Again.
Always.
He always remembered.
“You okay?” Ben asked.
You nearly dropped the coffee.
“Why?”
“You’ve been staring at me.”
Oh.
Mortifying.
You looked away immediately.
“Sorry.”
Ben frowned.
“You don’t have to apologize.”
Easy for him to say.
He wasn’t the one realizing he was hopelessly attracted to his best friend.
The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur.
You tried reading. Failed.
Tried working. Failed.
Tried ignoring the fact that Ben existed.
Failed spectacularly.
The problem was that everything reminded you of him.
Every shelf. Every chair. Every corner of the bookstore.
He’d somehow become part of the place.
Part of your routine.
Part of your life.
And when had that happened?
When had seeing him become the highlight of your day?
When had his smile become your favorite thing?
When had you started looking for him every time the bell above the door rang?
You didn’t know.
Only that it had happened.
Quietly.
Completely.
Much like falling asleep.
One moment you’re awake.
The next you’re somewhere else entirely.
That evening, the bookstore closed early.
The sky was painted gold and pink.
The rain from the previous days had finally disappeared.
For once, the city felt peaceful.
You and Ben ended up walking together.
Neither of you in any particular hurry.
The conversation drifted lazily.
Books. Movies. Nothing important.
Everything important.
At one point your hands brushed.
Accidentally.
You felt it immediately.
So did he.
Because both of you abruptly stopped talking.
The silence stretched.
Neither moving away.
Neither moving closer.
Just… Waiting.
The evening light painted everything gold.
Ben looked different in it.
Softer.
Less like a legend. More like a man.
And suddenly you understood something.
For months you’d been looking at him through fear. Through assumptions. Through stories.
But somewhere along the way, all of that had disappeared.
You didn’t see Soldier Boy anymore.
You saw Ben.
The man who brought you coffee. The man who remembered your favorite flower. The man who waited until you locked the bookstore before leaving. The man who smiled when he thought nobody was looking.
And God help you.
You loved him.
The realization hit all at once.
Bright. Warm. Certain.
Like sunlight.
Ben must’ve seen something change in your expression.
Because his eyes softened.
“Hey.”
Your heart skipped.
“Hey.”
Neither of you looked away.
For the first time.
Neither of you hid.
The city faded into the background.
The noise. The traffic. The people.
Gone.
There was only Ben.
And the way he was looking at you.
Like you mattered.
Like you always had.
Slowly—
Carefully—
He reached for your hand.
Giving you every opportunity to pull away.
You didn’t.
His fingers intertwined with yours.
Warm. Steady.
Real.
A breath caught in your throat.
“Ben…”
Your voice came out softer than intended.
His gaze dropped briefly to your lips.
Then returned to your eyes.
A question.
Not a demand. Not an expectation.
A question.
You answered by stepping closer.
That was all it took.
His hand rose carefully to your cheek.
As if you were something precious. Something fragile.
Something worth protecting.
And then he kissed you.
Gentle.
Almost unbelievably gentle.
The complete opposite of everything people assumed about him.
No rush. No desperation. No performance.
Just warmth.
Just Ben.
The kiss lasted only a few seconds.
But when you pulled apart, neither of you moved very far.
Foreheads touching. Breathing the same air.
For a moment, neither of you spoke.
Then Ben laughed quietly.
The sound surprised both of you.
“What?” You asked.
His smile widened.
“Nothing.”
A pause.
Then:
“I think you’re my favorite person.”
Your face immediately burned.
“That’s a terrible line.”
“It worked.”
You laughed.
And standing there beneath the fading sunlight, hand in hand with the man you’d accidentally fallen in love with, you realized something.
For months, you’d been afraid of what Ben was.
A supe. A celebrity. A legend.
But love wasn’t any of those things.
Love was coffee waiting for you in the morning.
Love was remembered conversations.
Love was showing up. Again. And again. And again.
And maybe, just maybe—
You didn’t want to be defined by the things that frightened you anymore.
Maybe you wanted to be defined by this instead.
By him.
By the warmth of his hand in yours.
By the golden light stretching across the city.
By the certainty in your chest.
For the first time, you understood exactly what the future looked like.
Ben’s biggest mistake isn’t falling in love.
It’s letting someone notice.
When a routine visit to Vought Tower turns into an encounter with Homelander and The Seven, Ben quickly discovers that his growing attachment isn’t nearly as private as he thought.
And Homelander has never been known for respecting boundaries.
Unfortunately for everyone involved, neither has Soldier Boy.
Notes:
Inspired by the song Adore You by Harry Styles.
AO3 link
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
~~~~~~~~~~
The first person to notice was Homelander. Which was unfortunate. Because Homelander noticed everything.
Especially weaknesses.
The conference room at Vought Tower felt exactly the same as it always had. Too cold. Too expensive. Filled with people Ben disliked.
Across the table sat Homelander. Smiling.
Which immediately made Ben suspicious.
Around him were members of The Seven. A collection of egos, liabilities, and walking public-relations disasters.
Ben wanted to leave.
Homelander wanted something.
Which was somehow worse.
“So.” Homelander leaned back. “How’s the bookstore?”
Ben froze.
Only for half a second.
But Homelander saw it.
Of course he did.
The smile widened.
“Interesting.”
Across the room, The Deep immediately looked nervous.
Because he’d witnessed enough Soldier Boy and Homelander arguments to recognize the warning signs.
“Don’t.” Ben said.
Homelander ignored him.
Naturally.
“I didn’t know you read.”
“I don’t.”
“Then why spend so much time there?”
Silence.
The room suddenly became very interested in literally anything else.
Even A-Train looked uncomfortable.
Homelander’s grin sharpened.
“There she is, right?”
Ben stood.
The chair scraped loudly across the floor.
Instant silence.
“You got something to say?”
Homelander rose too.
Neither man looked away.
The atmosphere changed immediately.
Everyone felt it.
Because whenever Homelander and Soldier Boy occupied the same space, it felt less like a meeting and more like a bomb waiting to explode.
“You know,” Homelander said casually, “Ryan talks about his favorite people the same way.”
Ben’s jaw tightened.
“Careful.”
“Oh, come on.” Homelander laughed. “You practically glow whenever her name comes up.”
The room collectively decided not to exist.
A survival instinct.
Ben took one step forward.
Homelander took one step forward.
Neither willing to yield.
Neither willing to blink.
“Keep talking.” Ben said.
The smile vanished from Homelander’s face.
Dangerous.
“Or what?”
For a moment, nobody moved.
Then the lights flickered.
The air pressure shifted.
And every member of The Seven immediately backed away from both men.
Because they’d seen this before.
Two apex predators.
One room.
One bad decision.
Homelander’s eyes glowed red.
Ben’s fists clenched.
“Try me.” Ben said quietly.
The windows rattled.
Across the room, The Deep muttered:
“Oh, we’re gonna die.”
A-Train nodded.
“Yep.”
For three terrible seconds, it looked like the tower might lose an entire floor.
Then Homelander laughed.
The tension snapped.
Just like that.
“Relax.” He smiled. “I was teasing.”
Ben didn’t smile back.
Because Homelander wasn’t teasing.
Homelander was probing.
Testing.
Looking for vulnerabilities.
And apparently he’d found one.
Three days later, Ben was back at the bookstore.
Where he actually wanted to be.
You were sitting on a ladder reorganizing a shelf.
Completely unaware that you’d almost caused a superhuman civil war.
“Hey.” You smiled.
The irritation he’d carried all week vanished immediately.
Just like that.
Gone.
Which was deeply annoying.
Because it proved Homelander right.
And Ben hated when Homelander was right.
“You okay?” You asked.
“Fine.”
“You look like you punched a wall.”
“I did.”
A pause.
“…Ben.”
“What?”
“You can’t say things like that casually.”
“Why?”
You stared.
He stared back.
Neither understanding the other.
Then you laughed.
And once again the tension disappeared.
Every damn time.
Ben watched you climb down from the ladder.
Watched you tuck your hair behind your ear.
Watched you smile.
And suddenly something unpleasant occurred to him.
Homelander wasn’t the only one who could see it.
Anyone paying attention could.
How often he looked at you.
How quickly his mood changed around you.
How much he cared.
The realization settled heavily in his chest.
Not because he was ashamed.
Because people ruined things.
And if there was one thing Ben had learned in a century of living—
It was that the moment the world discovered something precious… The world tried to take it.
The next time he saw Homelander, it happened in a hallway.
No audience. No cameras. No Seven.
Just the two of them.
Which somehow made it worse.
Homelander smiled.
Ben immediately considered violence.
“You know.” Homelander said. “I’ve never seen you like this.”
“Like what?”
“Happy.”
The word hit harder than any punch.
Because Ben couldn’t remember the last time someone had called him that.
Homelander tilted his head.
“She must be special.”
The hallway cracked.
A thin fracture racing across the marble floor beneath Ben’s boots.
The smile vanished from Homelander’s face.
Because suddenly this wasn’t funny anymore.
“Listen carefully.”
Ben said.
Quietly.
Dangerously.
“You stay away from her.”
For the first time all conversation, Homelander looked serious.
Then—
Something unexpected happened.
He laughed.
Not mockingly.
Almost knowingly.
“You really adore her.”
Silence.
Ben should’ve denied it.
Should’ve lied.
Should’ve walked away.
Instead he said nothing.
And somehow that answer was worse.
Because Homelander’s expression changed.
Not amusement.
Not ridicule.
Recognition.
The look of someone who understood exactly what it was like to need affection. To crave it. To build your entire world around it.
For one brief moment, they understood each other.
Then it passed.
“Wow.” Homelander whispered.
Ben hated the sound of it.
Because it sounded like discovery.
Like realization.
Like someone opening a door that should’ve remained locked.
And as Homelander walked away, Ben found himself thinking something he’d never considered before.
Loving you wasn’t the dangerous part.
The dangerous part was how much he was willing to do to keep you safe.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
A rainy afternoon. A powerless bookstore. A jealous Soldier Boy.
Ben is beginning to realize that seeing you every day isn’t a habit anymore.
It’s a necessity.
Notes:
Inspired by the song Best Part by Daniel Caesar feat. H.E.R.
AO3 link
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
~~~~~~~~~~
The first sign something was wrong was that Soldier Boy started smiling. Not often. Not enough for most people to notice. But you noticed.
You noticed because it usually happened around you.
The realization came one rainy Thursday afternoon. The bookstore was empty. The weather had driven away customers, leaving only the soft sound of rain against the windows. And Ben. As usual.
He was sitting in the corner armchair pretending to read. Pretending being the important word. Because he’d been staring at the same page for fifteen minutes.
“You gonna turn that page?” You asked.
His eyes immediately lifted. Caught.
“What?”
“The book.”
“What about it?”
“You’ve been reading the same paragraph since I made coffee.”
A pause.
“You timing me?”
You grinned.
“You wish.”
The corner of his mouth twitched.
And there it was again. That smile. Small. Rare. Almost shy.
You’d never expected Soldier Boy of all people to be shy.
Yet somehow Ben was.
Not all the time. Just around things that mattered.
That thought lingered with you far longer than it should have.
Across the room, Ben finally turned the page. Immediately upside down.
You burst out laughing.
“Jesus Christ.”
“What?”
“It’s upside down.”
He looked down.
Silence.
Then:
“Yeah.”
“You didn’t notice?”
“No.”
“You weren’t reading it.”
“No.”
The confession came so easily that it caught both of you off guard.
You blinked.
Ben blinked.
Then suddenly he looked very interested in the rain outside.
And your smile softened.
Because you knew.
Not exactly what he was feeling. But enough.
Enough to understand that the reason he kept showing up wasn’t because of books.
It was you.
The dangerous thing was… You weren’t sure you minded.
Later that afternoon, the power went out.
The bookstore plunged into darkness.
You sighed.
“Perfect.”
Ben barely reacted.
“Thought humans used electricity because they liked suffering.”
“You are literally a hundred years old.”
“Close enough.”
You threw a bookmark at him.
He caught it effortlessly.
Without even looking.
Show-off.
The rain continued. The lights remained out. The city became gray and quiet beyond the windows.
And somehow neither of you left.
Instead you sat together behind the counter drinking coffee.
Talking.
Nothing important. Everything important.
Favorite movies. Worst jobs. Childhood memories.
The conversation drifted naturally. Easy. Comfortable.
At one point you laughed so hard coffee nearly came out your nose.
Ben looked horrified.
“You okay?”
You nodded. Still laughing.
And for a second he simply stared.
Not at your face.
At your happiness.
As if he was memorizing it.
As if it was something precious.
Something rare.
Something worth protecting.
The look disappeared quickly. Too quickly.
But you noticed.
Because lately you noticed everything about him.
The way his voice softened around you. The way he always waited until you locked the store before leaving. The way he somehow remembered every random thing you ever mentioned.
Even things you forgot.
Especially things you forgot.
“You said your favorite flower was lavender.”
You looked up.
“What?”
Ben shrugged.
“A month ago.”
“A month ago?”
“Yeah.”
Your eyes narrowed.
“Why do you remember that?”
His answer came immediately.
“Because you said it.”
Silence.
A strange warmth settled in your chest.
Because it wasn’t the answer itself.
It was how obvious it seemed to him.
As if of course he remembered. As if forgetting was never an option.
Outside, the rain intensified.
Inside, the bookstore felt smaller somehow.
Warmer.
Safer.
Your gaze drifted toward the window.
“Think it’s gonna stop?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“How?”
Ben looked amused.
Then he pointed.
Across the street.
Three people were opening umbrellas.
You frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“Means it’ll rain another hour.”
“…That’s your evidence?”
“Been alive a long time.”
You laughed.
And Ben felt something inside his chest tighten.
Not painfully.
The opposite.
Dangerously.
Because he was beginning to realize something.
Something he probably should’ve realized weeks ago.
This wasn’t just attraction.
Wasn’t curiosity.
Wasn’t a crush.
You had become part of his day.
The first thing he looked forward to every morning.
The last thing he thought about every night.
And the terrifying part?
He couldn’t remember when it happened.
Only that it had.
Quietly.
Completely.
The bookstore door suddenly opened.
A man stepped inside.
Young. Confident. Handsome.
Ben instantly disliked him.
For absolutely no reason.
The man smiled at you.
You smiled back.
And something ugly twisted in Ben’s stomach.
“Hey.” The stranger said.
“Hey!” You brightened.
You knew him.
Ben’s mood immediately worsened.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Because apparently there were still new ways for Soldier Boy to suffer.
The man approached the counter.
You chatted casually. Asked about his job. His family. His weekend plans.
Normal conversation. Completely harmless.
Ben hated every second of it.
Not because the guy was doing anything wrong.
Because your attention wasn’t on him.
The realization struck hard.
Possessive.
Embarrassing.
Pathetic.
And yet.
When you laughed at something the man said, Ben found himself staring.
Not at him.
At you.
At how easy your smile came.
At how bright you looked.
At how much he liked being the reason for it.
The stranger eventually left.
The bell above the door chimed.
And suddenly the bookstore felt normal again.
You looked over.
Ben was staring into his coffee.
“Everything okay?”
His eyes lifted.
For a second, you could’ve sworn something intense flashed across his face.
Gone before you could identify it.
“Yeah.”
“You look annoyed.”
“I’m not.”
“You absolutely are.”
“I’m not.”
A beat.
Then:
“You seem to know him.”
Your smile widened.
“Oh my God.”
Ben immediately regretted speaking.
“You were jealous.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were.”
The grin you gave him was positively criminal.
And for the first time all afternoon, Ben laughed.
A real laugh. Deep. Warm.
The sound filled the bookstore.
And suddenly neither of you were looking away.
The rain continued outside. The lights remained out. The world carried on.
But for one quiet moment, sitting together in the dim bookstore, neither of you seemed in any hurry to be anywhere else.
And though Ben would never admit it aloud, not even to himself—You had become his favorite part of the day.
Ben is beginning to realize that loving someone and grieving them can feel alarmingly similar.
The problem is, you’re still standing right in front of him.
Notes:
Inspired by the song The Night We Met by Lord Huron.
AO3 link
Chapter 1
~~~~~~~~~~
The strange thing about happiness was that Soldier Boy never trusted it. Not when it lasted. Not when it felt real. And especially not when it came from you.
Three weeks after your conversation in the bookstore, he found himself developing routines. A dangerous thing. Routines became habits. Habits became attachments. Attachments became weaknesses.
Yet every afternoon, around four o’clock, he somehow ended up standing outside your bookstore. Every single day.
He’d tell himself he was just walking. Exploring the city. Killing time. Anything but the truth.
The truth was embarrassingly simple. He liked seeing you.
You’d smile when he walked through the door. A small smile. Nothing dramatic. Nothing life-changing.
And somehow it became the best part of his day.
Pathetic.
If his old teammates could see him now, they’d never let him live it down. America’s greatest hero reduced to looking forward to bookstore conversations.
You were shelving books when he arrived one evening. The bell above the door chimed. You looked up. Smiled.
And there it was. That stupid feeling again.
“Hey, Ben.”
Not Soldier Boy. Ben. Always Ben.
His chest tightened.
“Hey.”
You pointed toward a cardboard box. “Help.”
“That’s not a greeting.”
“It’s a request.”
“Demand.”
“Demand.”
You grinned. He hated how much he liked making you laugh.
The worst part was how natural it felt.
As if you’d known each other longer than a few weeks. As if he’d always been here.
As if there had never been a version of his life without you in it.
The thought followed him home that night.
And lingered.
Because Soldier Boy remembered every version of his life. Every decade. Every city. Every war.
And not one of them had included this.
Not one of them had included someone waiting for him.
Someone happy to see him.
Someone who looked at him without wanting something.
The realization should have comforted him. Instead it filled him with dread.
Because good things didn’t stay.
They never had.
His mother. Gone. His team. Gone. His reputation. Gone. His century. Gone.
Everyone eventually left. Or died. Or betrayed him.
So why should you be different?
That night he sat on the roof of his apartment building. The city stretched endlessly beneath him. Lights glowing in distant windows. Lives continuing without him.
And for the first time in a long time, he felt old.
Not physically. Never physically.
But tired.
Tired in the way only someone who had lived too long could be.
His phone buzzed.
A text.
From you.
His heart stopped.
Actually stopped.
Ben, you left your jacket.
A second message arrived.
I know you’re pretending you forgot it.
A third.
You can come get it tomorrow, idiot.
Soldier Boy stared at the screen.
Then laughed.
A real laugh. Not the public one. Not the television one. Not the Soldier Boy one.
Just Ben.
For a few precious seconds, he felt lighter.
Then the fear returned.
Because the more he cared, the more he had to lose.
And he was beginning to care far too much.
The next afternoon, he returned for his jacket.
You handed it over immediately.
“There.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
Neither of you moved.
The bookstore was empty. Quiet. Warm.
Outside, rain tapped softly against the windows.
Inside, time seemed slower somehow.
You leaned against the counter.
He leaned against the bookshelf.
And for a moment, neither of you spoke.
Comfortable silence.
The kind he wasn’t used to.
The kind he didn’t realize he’d missed.
Then you looked at him. Really looked.
And asked softly: “Why do you always seem sad?”
The question hit harder than any punch.
Because nobody was supposed to notice.
Soldier Boy immediately looked away.
“I’m not sad.”
You raised an eyebrow.
“Right.”
“I ain’t.”
“Ben.”
His name sounded different when you said it. Gentler.
“Everybody’s sad about something.”
The bookstore suddenly felt too small.
Too bright.
Too honest.
Because the answer wasn’t complicated.
He was sad because he already missed you.
Even when you were standing right in front of him.
He missed future versions of you. Future conversations. Future smiles. Future days that hadn’t happened yet.
Because some part of him was convinced they would eventually be taken away.
That one day you’d learn who he really was. What he’d done. What kind of man existed beneath the shield.
And you’d leave.
Everyone always left.
The terrifying thing wasn’t that he expected it.
The terrifying thing was that he didn’t know how he’d survive it this time.
You were still watching him. Waiting.
Patient.
Finally, he forced a smile.
“Just thinking.”
“About what?”
His eyes met yours.
For one brief second, honesty almost escaped.
About how I’m already afraid of losing you. About how I haven’t even had you yet. About how I can still remember the night we met, and somehow that memory already feels like something I’ll miss.
Instead, he shrugged.
“Nothing important.”
You didn’t look convinced.
But you let it go.
And later, after you’d gone home and the bookstore lights were dark, Soldier Boy remained standing across the street. Watching the empty windows. Listening to the rain.
Thinking about the first day he’d seen you.
Thinking about the impossible future he wanted.
Thinking about all the ways it could disappear.
And for the first time in years, Soldier Boy found himself wishing he could go backward. Not decades. Not centuries. Just a few weeks. Back to the night he met you. Back before he knew what your smile could do to him. Back before losing you became something to fear. Because loving you—even quietly, even from a distance—already felt a little like grief.
He’s Soldier Boy—the legendary supe, America’s golden weapon, a man who’s survived wars, betrayals, and decades of being worshipped like a god.
So why can’t he stop watching you?
It starts small. Coincidences. Familiar faces in crowds. A presence you can’t quite explain but always feel lingering at the edge of your life.
Then it becomes impossible to ignore.
Because Soldier Boy doesn’t just admire you.
He studies you.
Knows you.
And when you finally look back at him without fear—just curiosity—something in him shifts.
Something dangerous.
Something starved.
Suddenly, the strongest man in the world is learning what it means to want someone so badly it feels like hunger. Like religion. Like decay.
And the worst part?
He’s starting to think you might actually see him too.
Not Soldier Boy.
Not the myth.
But Ben.
And that terrifies him more than any war ever has.
⸻
“Would you ever love someone like me?”
Notes:
Inspired by the song Dracula (JENNIE Remix) by Tame Impala & JENNIE.
AO3 link
~~~~~~~~~~
Soldier Boy had never cared what people thought of him. That was the lie. The biggest lie. The one he’d been telling himself for nearly a century.
The truth was much uglier. He cared too much. Always had. His father had cared. The military had cared. Vought had cared. The public had cared. Everyone always expected something. Strength. Perfection. Invincibility. The great Soldier Boy. America’s favorite hero.
And Ben spent decades pretending to be him.
Then he met you.
You worked at a tiny bookstore tucked between a laundromat and a flower shop. The kind of place nobody noticed. The kind of place Soldier Boy would’ve walked past a hundred times without seeing. Except one rainy evening, he did.
You weren’t looking at him. That was the first strange thing. Most people did. Most people stared. Asked for photos. Whispered. Pointed. You didn’t. You were balancing a stack of books while arguing with an elderly customer about late fees.
Soldier Boy stood frozen outside the window. Watching.
The customer eventually left. You sighed. Dropped into a chair. And buried your face in your hands.
For some reason, that made him smile.
Because it looked real. Not rehearsed. Not performed. Just human.
The next day he came back. And the next. And the next.
Eventually you noticed. Of course you did. A six-foot-plus superhuman lurking around the same bookstore every afternoon wasn’t exactly subtle.
“You gonna buy something?” You asked.
Soldier Boy glanced up from a book he’d been holding upside down.
“…Maybe.”
You laughed. Actually laughed. And for some reason that felt better than every cheer he’d ever received from a stadium crowd.
After that, talking to you became easy. Dangerously easy.
He learned your favorite author. Your favorite coffee. The movies you secretly cried during. The way you tucked your hair behind your ear when you were concentrating.
And slowly… He started looking forward to seeing you.
Which was a problem.
Because Soldier Boy didn’t do attachment.
Attachment got people killed. Attachment made you weak. Attachment made you care.
Yet every day he found himself returning.
One afternoon, you were sitting together in the bookstore after closing. Rain tapped softly against the windows. The city glowed beyond the glass.
You looked over at him. Smiled. And asked the question that ruined everything.
“What were you like before all this?”
Soldier Boy froze.
Before all this.
Before the fame. Before Vought. Before the legend. Before the posters. Before the lies.
Ben.
Nobody asked about Ben. They asked about Soldier Boy. The costume. The shield. The myth.
You wanted the man underneath.
And suddenly he felt exposed.
Like sunlight touching a vampire.
His stomach twisted.
Because what if you saw him? Really saw him?
The angry parts. The selfish parts. The ugly parts. The insecure little boy who spent his entire life trying to earn approval from people who never gave it.
What if you realized he wasn’t worth loving?
“Ben?”
Your voice pulled him back.
He forced a grin. The same grin he’d worn for decades.
The mask.
“Sweetheart, you don’t wanna hear about that guy.”
You frowned.
“Why not?”
Because he hated that guy.
Because that guy wasn’t enough.
Because Soldier Boy only existed because Ben wasn’t worth keeping.
But he couldn’t say that.
So he shrugged.
“Trust me.”
You stared at him for a long moment. Then quietly said:
“I think I’d like him.”
Everything stopped.
The rain. The city. The noise in his head.
All of it.
You think you’d like him.
Not Soldier Boy. Not the hero. Not the celebrity. Not the legend.
Ben.
The man nobody had ever chosen.
The man nobody had ever wanted.
For the first time in years, Soldier Boy didn’t know what to say.
And that terrified him.
Because fighting enemies was easy. Explosions were easy. War was easy.
This?
Sitting across from a woman who might actually care about him?
Impossible.
That night he couldn’t sleep.
He sat alone in his apartment overlooking the city. Watching lights flicker in distant windows.
Thinking about you.
About the way you smiled. The way you looked at him. The way you never seemed impressed by Soldier Boy.
Only interested.
Interested in Ben.
The thought scared him more than any battle ever had.
Because suddenly he understood something.
He didn’t want you to love Soldier Boy.
He wanted you to love the man underneath.
And for someone like him… That was far more frightening.
Because if you rejected Soldier Boy, he’d survive. He always had.
But if you rejected Ben?
The lonely little boy still trapped inside the legend?
That might finally break him.
And sitting alone in the dark, Soldier Boy found himself wondering something he’d never dared ask before. Something small. Something vulnerable. Something painfully human.
It all started innocently enough. Caustic, ever the scientist, was concocting a new "tactical gas" variant in the shared armory. He swore up and down it wouldn't be noxious, just create a mildly distracting... disco effect. Mirage, ever the prankster, saw an opportunity.
"Disco gas, eh? Sounds like a party!" Mirage whooped, snatching a canister. Before Caustic could splutter a protest, Mirage yeeted it through the doorway.
The target? Octane's makeshift "training course" – a haphazard sprawl of jump pads and cargo containers in the firing range. Octane, mid-launch with stim coursing through his veins, rocketed straight into the shimmering disco cloud.
The effect was...interesting. Octane emerged, hair looking like a neon explosion, bouncing off walls with the grace of a sugar-high toddler at a rave. He shrieked, a high-pitched warble that could only be described as "rave Octane."
Wraith, ever the pragmatist, sighed. "Great. Now we have a hyper disco demolition ball."
Gibraltar, ever the optimist, boomed, "Well, at least the party's started! Who needs music when you have Octane bouncing off things?"
Caustic, predictably, was fuming. "This is a travesty! I spent hours calibrating the-"
He was cut off by Pathfinder, who somehow managed to attach a disco ball to his grappling hook and was now swinging around, showering everyone in glitter. Bloodhound, ever the tracker, sniffed the air with a confused frown. "Metal... lubricant... and... glitter? Is this some new IMC tactic?"
The scene devolved into glorious chaos. Mirage, emboldened, launched more disco canisters, turning the firing range into a technicolor nightmare. Bangalore, ever the soldier, tried (and failed) to maintain order. Crypto, uncharacteristically amused, hid behind a crate, recording the entire thing on his drone.
Finally, Lifeline, ever the voice of reason, managed to wrestle the last canister away from Mirage. "Alright, party animals, enough! Caustic needs to neutralize this... abomination."
As Caustic grumbled and tinkered, Octane, still bouncing with a manic grin, declared, "This is the best training ever! Makes those jump pads way more trippy!"
Gibraltar, covered in glitter and sporting a makeshift disco crown (courtesy of Mirage), chuckled. "Just another day in the Apex Games."
Wraith, with a resigned sigh, simply shook her head and muttered, "Let's just hope Blisk doesn't see this."
The tension in the Avengers Tower common room was thicker than Thor's celebratory stew. Steve Rogers, ever the leader, shuffled a deck of cards. "Alright team, time for a different kind of mission. Tonight, we play Avalon."
Iron Man scoffed. "Avalon? You think chitauri diplomacy translates to a social deduction game?"
Black Widow smirked. "Let's see if Stark can tell the truth for five minutes straight, shall we?"
The game began. Steve, ever trusting, drew five cards, revealing himself as a loyal Servant of Arthur. Thor, predictably enthusiastic, slammed his fist on the table. "I too am a loyal servant! We shall crush the forces of Mordred!"
Bruce Banner, ever cautious, drew his cards with a grimace. "Uh, I'm not sure what I am..."
Suddenly, Loki, the resident trickster, cackled. "Excellent! A new pawn for my schemes!" He winked at Steve, clearly lying.
Steve, ever the optimist, beamed. "Don't worry, Loki. We'll see through any deceptions!"
The game devolved into glorious chaos. Black Widow, a proven strategist, played flawlessly, her stoic expression never betraying her role. Hawkeye, ever competitive, accused everyone (including Captain America) of being Mordred's minion.
The highlight came during a quest. Thor, chosen as leader, confidently picked Iron Man and Bruce as his companions. "Together, we shall vanquish the darkness!"
Iron Man grumbled. "Great. Just what I need, babysitting Banner."
"Wait!" Bruce interjected. "My card says I'm a Morgana supporter! I can't go!"
Thor's face fell. "But... but we need your science! And Stark's snarky commentary!"
"This is a disaster!" Captain America declared, trying to maintain order.
Loki, meanwhile, was rolling on the floor, tears streaming down his face. "Oh, the glorious dysfunction! This is better than any alien invasion!"
Somehow, through sheer luck and a surprising amount of teamwork (mostly to spite Loki), the good guys won the first round.
"See, Stark?" Steve grinned. "We can work together... even with a mischievous trickster in our midst."
Loki, still wiping away tears, bowed dramatically. "Oh, Captain Rogers, your faith is so touching. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a reputation for utter chaos to uphold!"
The Avengers, despite the near-meltdown, found themselves laughing. Maybe this social deduction game wasn't so bad after all. It was certainly more entertaining than facing Thanos, even if the stakes were much lower. As the game continued, accusations flew, alliances shifted, and Loki continued to revel in the glorious mess he'd helped create. In the end, it wasn't about winning or losing, it was about the hilarious journey of earth's mightiest heroes trying to decipher truth from lies... with a healthy dose of friendly bickering, of course.
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author when will you update sensitive but fuckable?
Hi! Thank you for your interest in one of my stories. As of now, been really busy with work lately, but don’t worry, I’m writing the future chapters, just couldn’t find the proper timing and inspiration right now. 😊
hi dear writer! i just read the consigliere and i loved it, just wanted to know if you have any schedule for the updates.
Hello there, reader! I'm glad you enjoyed it! For the time being, I don't have a consistent schedule for the chapters because I've been very busy with work, but don't worry, I'll try to update every month. Thank you! 😊
So this was how your life was going to turn out now? You’d never gotten to be the center of attention, but now, here you were. Trapped inside a house full of people who all looked at you as an object – property, property, property. It was disgusting. It made you sick.
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
“What?” You were taken aback by the question.
You blinked at him, unsure of what to say; there was so much you wanted to tell him but your mouth wouldn't form words.
He chuckled as he continued. “I asked you what’s your story?” Still holding your chin in his hand, he turned your head towards him and looked into your eyes intently. He didn't look like he believed that you'd be able to answer his question.
You were furious that this man had the audacity to ask something like that! Your jaw clenched tightly as you tried to hold back tears that threatened to spill from your eyes. How dare he! The nerve of him! After everything you'd been through – how could someone like him even ask such a thing?!
You closed your eyes for a few moments before opening them again and looking up at him. You couldn't believe that he was still standing here, staring at you like he thought you were going to answer the question. That wasn't your intention at all. Why the hell would you ever willingly tell him about yourself? It was too painful to think about! But, now that it was out there, you couldn't take it back. So, you figured, why not just get it over with?
With an annoyed sigh, you finally answered his question. “My story is rather simple actually. In case you weren’t informed, I have been threatened, kidnapped, and betrayed by the very person I thought I could trust.” You paused for a moment, letting those three facts sink in.
Once they did, it seemed as though you’d broken some sort of barrier between the two of you. The tension left you, and you took a small step back as you looked down at the ground. You were afraid that you'd just made things worse.
A sudden burst of laughter escaped him and you snapped your attention up to see what was so amusing. He was doubled over, trying desperately to stop himself from laughing. You felt your face flush with embarrassment; it hadn’t been funny at all, in fact, it had only served to make matters worse.
When he realized he was no longer able to contain himself any longer, he straightened himself up and wiped the tears from his eyes. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have laughed... I'm really sorry. It's just... that expression on your face when you said that, it's priceless!"
He began to laugh again and you stared blankly at him, unsure of exactly what was happening. What the fuck?! Did you seriously just have a conversation with this bastard? Were you losing your goddamn mind? Was this some kind of weird fever dream? Did you somehow wake up from some kind of nightmare?
As if reading your thoughts, he gave you one last grin before turning around and walking out the door, “come, let me give you a tour since you’ll be living here from now on.” He waved a dismissive hand behind him. He called over his shoulder. “Don’t keep me waiting!”
You shook your head and slowly walked through the door after him. This guy… this fucking weirdo!
“So, where should we begin?” He questioned, gesturing around him in mock contemplation as he walked backwards, away from you.
You watched silently, unable to find the strength in you to reply, but that didn’t stopped him from touring the entire mansion. His voice echoed through your ears, and you wondered if this was some kind of bizarre hallucination brought about by sleep deprivation.
You knew he was distracted, and so you did what a sane person would do; you ran the opposite direction from him. As you rounded the corner of the hallway, you almost ran into another body, forcing you to jerk forward, barely missing collision.
Your eyes flickered to the figure who had bumped into you, then shot back up to his face.
Kim Seokjin.
He was dressed in a loose black shirt tucked in neatly, and his slacks hugged his legs in perfect fashion as he stood there, hands clasped behind his back. He raised an eyebrow at you and tilted his head to the side slightly.
You felt your cheeks heat up under his scrutiny, but you kept your silence. Not that that was really an option considering the way your heart seemed to pound in your chest.
After several long seconds, Seokjin spoke. “Are you okay, pet? Jimin not taking care of you? Kind of irresponsible of him letting you run around the halls.” He smirked at you. You glared daggers into his smug features and he sighed theatrically. “Fine. You don’t need to respond. I understand that you aren’t happy with being here. You must want nothing more than to be far away from this place as soon as possible.” He stepped closer to you. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t have fun while you’re here. Right?”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “What are you talking about?” You snapped.
“Oh, good! You found her.” A voice suddenly filled the hallway. “She’s a flighty thing.”
You spun around to see Jimin striding towards you.
Jimin grinned widely at you as he came to a halt beside you. He clapped his hands together before grabbing your elbow and guiding you off the hall.
Seokjin followed closely behind him. “Now, behave or we’re giving you to Taehyung.”
You glanced over at the man trailing behind the pair of you. He was standing close enough for you to hear his every word.
He caught your gaze and sent you a smirk. You glared at him and he chuckled. You noticed that your fingers instinctively curled into fists as you fought back the urge to punch him.
So this was how your life was going to turn out now? You’d never gotten to be the center of attention, but now, here you were. Trapped inside a house full of people who all looked at you as an object – property, property, property. It was disgusting. It made you sick.
You wanted nothing more than to leave this place. You couldn’t live like this. There had to be some kind of escape plan that you could come up with.
There just had to be.
~~~
“I heard you tried to escape.” Ji Hye commented nonchalantly as she took a bite out of the fruit in her hand. She chewed slowly and swallowed before continuing. “I told you to behave.”
You rolled your eyes. Of course you tried to escape. Who wouldn't? You didn't know any better! What else was there to do in this situation? Besides running, which you already knew from experience wasn't a good idea.
It took a second before you decided to speak. “What am I supposed to do, anyway? Just sit here and play nice like a damn dog? If anything, I should be escaping right now.”
Her eyes narrowed into slits. “No, I’ve thought of a better job for you.” Her expression remained cold as she continued on without pausing. “You’re coming with us at the club tonight.”
You scrunched up your nose at her statement. “Excuse me?”
She nodded her head. “We’re having our weekly meeting with some client, and you'll be joining.”
You opened your mouth in disbelief. “Are you kidding me?! Why me?”
Her lips quirked upward slightly as she smiled at you. “Because you seem to be quite the troublemaker.”
So I recently won an extremely rare Apex pack. What are the odds?! I can finally purchase Wattson an heirloom. 🫰🏻
I apologized to my readers who are looking forward to the future installments of my writings. I'm just too busy playing Apex Legends. If you play Apex Legends, send me your username and I'll add you. I can't promise I'm good. Don't worry, my stories are being updated.
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Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
I love the consigliere series!! It’s a very interesting plot. DoesJi-Hye have any romantic interest in reader? And is she just a business partner with bang tan 👀
