#and even though he was older than all my boys I was butchering with him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thecordelialetters · 4 months ago

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Homelander x Vampire! Reader

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Summary: There's nothing that taste better than the blood of the strongest supe in the world. Warning: Fem! reader insert, smut, explicit sex Wc: 1,778

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Since you developed them at the age of 8, your powers were a blessing and a curse. Gifted with an immortal indestructible body, the speed that rivaled A-Trains, and the strength of a thousand men, you had one flaw, your insatiable thirst. As a young girl who knew nothing of control, you tore right through your parents, ripping them limb from limb and sucking them dry. You've gotten a lot better at self-control since then, though the memory still haunts you. Starlight, or Annie as you knew her from her childhood was the sweetest girl you ever met. You had known her since she was a little and babysat her when her mom was away. The ball of sunshine always asked to see your fangs ( not that her mom knew until Annie was older ) and loved riding on your shoulders while you ran. She would ask you to throw her up and down, always falling into a fit of giggles, before making you chase her through the house.

You saw Annie all the way to adulthood being a loyal friend by her side when she joined the Seven and even after she met the boys and her boyfriend Hughie. As much as the spineless man annoyed you with his nerdy tendencies and sweaty smell, he was good to Annie. That's how you end up in the Vought Tower as a double agent. Ashley was the one who found you, she saw some articles about the good deeds you had done a few years back and wondered why with powers such as yours, you had flown under the radar. You could hear her voice in the meeting room introducing you. "Homelander this is Night Crawler, she would make a great member of the team, her abilities include super strength, hearing, and speed." You could smell her blood pumping and her heart rapidly beating under the scrutiny of Homelander's eyes. Pushing the door open with one hand you strode in head held high while looking around the room.

"Hello, I am Night Crawler." Before you could say any more the sweetest aroma hit your nose making you close your eyes and inhale deeply. What is that smell... It was sweet and musky enough to make you feel yourself salavate. When you opened your eyes to look at the direction of the smell your gaze landed on... Homelander.

"Well Night Crawler... what else can you do? Other than the basics." You drew your fangs out and dashed behind him wrapping your hand around his waist. He turned around the retaliate but you were faster and blinked in front of him. "Interesting...very interesting." Homelander hummed while his eyes ran up and down your revealing costume. Your costume consisted of a black spandex suit where the shorts stopped right under your butt and the top had long sleeves with a v cut down the middle. Your leather boots went all the way up your thigh leaving a sliver of skin. It was simple but effective, though Butcher thought you could stand to show more skin. "I've decided. Congrats Nightcrawler, you've made the team." He flashed a dazzling smile showing off his pearly whites. "In fact let me give you a tour of the building, as the Seven's leader it's my job to show around the newbies." Ashley went to object, but her face was met with a large red gloved hand. "Come, Nightcrawler." He commanded. You scurried after him, the scent of his veins luring you closer. Homelander gestures behind him "So as you know back there was the team meeting room, we meet there every now and then to discuss missions, stats, new marketing promos etc." Moving his hand forward, towards the elevator "Each person on the team has their own suite, mine is up here, the biggest one, since I'm the leader." Okay seems like overcompensating but who knows. The two of you stepped into the luxurious surprisingly small space. The air was suffocating; you felt like he was planning something. The ding of elevator made you jump. "Ladies first." paired with that same fake smile. You nodded and walked forward and felt him pressed on your back hard. "Come on little lady, we have lots to see and do." You looked up at him towering over your frame. "Of course sir." As you followed after him you felt your throat run dry. Shit you didn't think this meeting would run so long. You tried to distract yourself with thoughts about anything, counting how many lights where on the wall or clawing your hand at your side. "Did you hear me? Are you even listening?" You could tell Homelander was yapping about something or boasting about his saves and was annoyed that you missed the whole speech. But your mouth was watering and your head was pounding. You looked up into his eyes, gazes met. Homelander furrowed his eyes. Earlier your eyes were a bright green and now they matched those of crimson rubies. You felt your fangs poke your mouth. "Sorry," you blinked rapidly to come back to your senses. "Well then...come on Ill show you your room." He swiftly turned, cape trailing behind him. You felt like you wouldn't last any longer, you needed to get into your stash. You had asked Ashley to fill your fridge with donated blood, all you had to do was wait Homelander out. "This is where you'll be staying." He swayed his arm across as if to say "You've probably never seen a place this nice before". The room was very...stereotypical of what was thought of as vampires. Black and red colors were splattered through the room, it looked as if you stepped into a victorian gothic home. "There better not be a fucking coffin in here." You whispered to yourself. Homelander chuckled at your comment. "Do you do much...sleeping?" He cocked his head to the bedroom, strolling in as if this was HIS place. You could feel your hunger surging, if he didn't get out in the next 2 minutes you where going to go crazy. Next thing you know Homeland is by yourside, hands on your shoulders. "You know, I think I know what might help you rela-" He was cut off when you spun around and jumped onto him, legs wrapped tightly around his mid section. One of your hands wrapped around his jaw, the other one holding his shoulder for balance. You bared your fang and bit. It was the sweetest blood you ever tasted. It was like a delicacy and you couldn't stop, hunger clouded your mind. You kept sucking, relishing the feeling on your tongue. Your legs and hands squeezed tighter as if it would keep the blood coming.

Homelander stiffened, what the actual fuck. Here he was trying to get in the new girl's pants but not she was sucking him off, and not in the way he intended to. But he was getting lightheaded and turned on. The feeling of your lips on his neck, core pressed so close to him. He let out a strangled moan. He felt himself stiffening, suit a little tighter than usual. Eventually satisfied you let go, lapping up any extra spills with your tongue. Realizing what had happened and what position you where in you looked at Homelander ready to apologize. He couldn't help himself and slammed his lips on yours. The feeling of you sucking his neck was euphoric. His hand grazed your side, gentle like a lover. Before grabbing your neck and holding your body out. You hand grabbed his to release the tension. "What the fuck was that." You flashed your fangs towards him. "I need blood to sustain myself. And you have the best kind." Your smile was bloody and sadistic. It opened something up in Homelander. It was what he needed. Someone like him, you wouldn't mind his bloodshed you'd probably embrace it. He liked that you thought his blood was the best. I mean of course it was the best he was the strongest person in the world. He brought you closer to him, letting you stand on the ground.

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Since you developed them at the age of 8, you're powers were a blessing and a curse. Gifted with an immortal indestructible body, the speed that rivaled A-Trains, and the strength of a thousand men, you had one flaw, your insatiable thirst. As a young girl who knew nothing of control, you tore right through your parents, ripping them limb from limb and sucking them dry. You've gotten a lot better at self-control since then, though the memory still haunts you. Starlight, or Annie as you knew her from her childhood was the sweetest girl you ever met. You had known her since she was a little and babysat her when her mom was away. The ball of sunshine always asked to see your fangs ( not that her mom knew until Annie was older ) and loved riding on your shoulders while you ran. She would ask you to throw her up and down, always falling into a fit of giggles, before making you chase her through the house.

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"In that case. Continue." He stepped back slightly to undo the top of his suit and pulled it all the way down, letting his cock spring out for the bottom, slapping against his stomach. You were the worst double agent, but you were doing this for Annie, why not have some fun. You leaned against him, feeling him pressed on this stomach. You kissed his shoulder, opposite hand running down his chest. "So smell so good." His hand gripped your waist harder. You bit into his shoulder as he lifted you once more, legs going around his waist. His cock rubbed up against you, mouth moaning in your ear. You moved towards his neck again and bit the other side. Releasing your lips from his neck you pressed them against his, smothering the red liquid against him. He was such a passionate kisser, way better than any man you've ever dated. You broke the kiss only to shed your suit, blue eyes scanning every inch of your body. It was like you were the perfect specimen, not a flaw in sight, utterly beautiful. "I knew you'd be a great addition to the team." He said. You smirked in retaliation before sauntering to the bedroom. He followed, like a lost puppy and their owner. The bedroom was the same black and red color scheme, black silk sheets covered the bed, surrounded by dark wood furniture. There were red and white spider lily bouquets placed in vases throughout the room. There were way too many ornate vintage lamps. But the details didn't matter to you, not when Homelander was rubbing himself up and down your slit. He kissed your neck in a similar fashion as you, before slamming his hips against yours. There was no need to be soft, you two were the strongest in the world, and the sounds definitely proved it. The best rocked with each moment, the wood creaking from the pressure. He cried out loud as you bit his chest. His cock was pulsing as pushing in and out of you. He slammed into you again, the tension of the bed finally breaking and falling to the ground but that didn't stop him. Your pussy clenched around him. He grunted in your ear speeding up slightly before releasing his hot cum deep in you. He rolled off you and the two of you laid there panting filling the silence. You turned over to him with a smile, fang pushing out the bottom of your lips. "Again?"

#homelander #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander x y/n #homelander x oc #the boys #the boys homelander #smut #fanfic #the boys tv

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thebiggerbear · 7 months ago

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Call My Name - One - Phase One Is A Go

Summary: And so begins Phase 1.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female!Reader

A/N: Without giving anything away, there will be some dark elements in this story. I will absolutely put those warnings when that chapter happens but I just want to give you guys a heads up early on in case.

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Songs for chapter (also listened to while writing): Prison Fight - Tyler Bates; Run For Your Life - The Siege

Series Masterlist

Warnings: sanctioned assassination; violence/blood; implied gore/death/murder; Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy; language; implied sexual imagery; hints of manipulation

Word Count: 8515

Series Taglist: @mostlymarvelgirl; @deangirl96; @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @ej13928; @rieleatiel

SB Taglist: @deans-spinster-witch; @birdiellie; @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @brightlilith

@muhahaha303; @just-levyy; @solacedthistest; @deansimpala; @foxyjwls007

@onlyangel-444

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat

Some days were tough. Some days were harder than most. But here you were, getting through each day with only one goal in mind. Everything you did, every decision you made, every breath you took — it was all leading towards one specific objective.

And that’s why you were here now, at a black op CIA site, watching as they pulled a comatose Soldier Boy out of containment.

“Are you sure about this?” Grace Mallory asked as you both stared down from the observation deck at Vought’s original Supe they had cooked up. It wasn’t too often that Grace showed her soft side; most didn’t even know she had one actually. But right now, out of the corner of your eye, you could see concern mixed with understanding topped off with a bit of careful hesitation. While you hated the concern and appreciated the understanding, you couldn’t blame her on the hesitation. Soldier Boy was basically a nuclear reactor in human form and he hadn’t gone down under the best circumstances, which was putting it lightly. Not only did he not want to go back under for another deep sleep, but Butcher and his team would be in his sights now. And based on what he did to the last team who betrayed him, you all were in for a shitstorm.

You knew this was a terrible idea, that you could very likely die before achieving your goal and you could bring hundreds if not thousands of people with you if you weren’t careful. But you were out of options and just like Butcher and company had arrived at the same decision some months earlier, you had chosen to unearth the strongest weapon you had in your arsenal in the battle between Supes and humans.

Grace had fought you on it of course. The government had strongly agreed with her assessment; Soldier Boy was too much of a risk to allow him to gain consciousness never mind walk around free. And yet they had no answer when you questioned why they didn’t just destroy him and end it, making the world that much safer. You knew why; they wanted to be in possession of that power, that weapon deep within the Supe’s chest. And that you could work with.

The older woman already knew your backstory and when you pressed the right buttons, backed by Butcher of all people, eventually she came around. You had no idea who she spoke to or what favors she had called in, but sure enough, your mission was greenlit with barely any resistance though a ton of uneasiness. Not unexpected and not entirely unfathomable. Funnily enough, President Singer was kept in the dark on this one; he was too close to Vought and by extension, Homelander and Victoria Neuman. You didn’t exactly mind. It was better for you and the mission as a whole if no one knew that Soldier Boy was still alive. How Grace managed to keep his existence under wraps for all of this time, you had no idea, but you were grateful she was on your side. So when you got the go ahead, you and Butcher took the win and hightailed it to the CIA facility before anyone could change their minds, or worse, figure out what you were up to and try to stop you.

There were stipulations as you figured there would be: daily briefings, a carefully selected unit of CIA under Grace’s command would be monitoring your every move closely, they reserved the right to pull the plug at any time and put Soldier Boy back into containment, and while you were in charge of the op, Butcher was who you had to answer to in Grace’s absence. That definitely set your teeth on edge. You and Butcher had different ideas on how to get things done, but you reminded yourself that you both had the same goal and that was all that really mattered. So you begrudgingly agreed and now here you were ordering the staff to begin the process of waking the original Supe up.

You watched as two men in Hazmat suits appeared to be choosing who would pull the figurative straw. You rolled your eyes; they were wasting time. Before you could hit a button and bark out an order, the one on your right seemed to be the one who had lost and warily approached Soldier Boy to remove his mask, practically darting away once he was finished. The staffer on the left was holding a radiation meter in his hand. From your viewpoint, you could see the levels slowly begin to rise. Sure enough, when you flicked your eyes over to the Supe, you could see movement underneath his eyelids, as if he were having an intense dream.

Grace saw it, too, and she ordered the two men out at once. There was no hesitation in following her command. Once they were out, Grace nodded to the staffer on her other side and he stayed at the ready, finger hovering over a button that you assumed would flood the room with Novichok gas within seconds if needed. Another employee darkened the windows in front of you. You could still see out but Soldier Boy wouldn’t be able to see in. A switch was flipped somewhere and the lights went down. The backup power source came on and the room was flooded with a red halo from the emergency lights. An alarm started to sound throughout the facility, as if someone had infiltrated the building, but everyone’s lack of movement and surprise confirmed there were no intruders. Instead, everyone’s focus was on the Supe who was going to open his eyes at any second.

Grace turned back to you. “Are you ready for this?”

You grabbed the gas mask that had been given to you as a contingency. “Butcher and his team ready?”

“Ready and standing by,” someone informed you both.

You gave Grace a nod and turned to leave the room.

“Hey,” she called, stopping you in your tracks. You glanced back over your shoulder to see that concern again, this time framed by the cold steel you’d gotten to know over the last few months. “If it looks like it’s not going to happen…” She let her warning trail off; both of you knew what would happen if things started to go sideways. She’d do her best to get you out before you got killed, but there was a high chance it wouldn’t happen. Then you’d be sealed in with a live nuclear reactor and that would be the end of you, and all of that would be before Soldier Boy could choose to unleash any of his wrath on you.

Giving a curt nod, you swiveled your head back in the direction you were headed in, determination filling your veins no matter the outcome. People cleared the path for you, fear plain as day on their faces. Not fear of you or even for you, but fear of what lay beyond in that chamber. Fear of what you had lobbied hard for to be woken up that would have been better left sleeping, for all eternity if some of them had their way. You didn’t pay them any mind and held your head up higher, a familiar blanket of cold indifference settling over you. You ignored their terrified gasps as you pulled one of your swords out of its sheath and headed for the open door. Once you were past it, after a few feet, you stopped right before the entrance to what could very well be your death, ignoring the sound of the door sealing shut behind you.

You waited to be confronted by a group that had been specifically chosen for this op by Grace and Butcher. You could hear them approaching, talking low amongst themselves and trying to formulate a plan, which from some of their tones you could tell it wouldn’t hold up very well and not even that long even if you weren’t there to stop them. Sure enough, as you knew would happen with a few more footsteps, they rounded the corner, looking for an exit, only to find you.

The group of men had been dressed as security for the facility and the six of them varied in size. The one in front, a big burly guy who appeared to have declared himself as leader, sneered over at you. “Well, what do we have here?”

The way he looked at you, the vibe coming off of him as well as a few of the others… They had been chosen well; you could already feel the urge to wipe them off the map radiating throughout your body. Your thoughts were running rampant and as one of them leered, you could sense an all-too familiar rage attempting to burn brightly within you that you then masterfully directed throughout your body.

You swung your sword in your hand and tensed, getting ready.

The leader laughed, turned to the other five, and ordered, “Get the bitch.”

The corner of your lips lifted in response. This was going to be a fun little workout for you that you could get in right before facing off with the final boss. Three men came charging at you and your sword flew with incredible precision as you spun in a dance you’d practiced a thousand times during training. You sliced open one and cut the other’s throat before either of them could even dream of laying a hand on you. When the third came closer, you made short work of him, and as you were about to injure the leader, he took one of the other two that had been hesitant to engage you, practically cowering, and used him as a human shield. He shoved the lanky man forward, right into your sword. You left it there and pulled your other one, kicking the dying man to the side. The sixth man cursed out loud and began running in the other direction. You pulled one of your knives from your belt and sent it careening into the back of his head, making him fall flat on his face. You then turned towards the one you had purposely saved for last.

“You fucking bitch,” he hissed. “You want some of this? Then come get it!” He pulled your sword out of the guy he’d thrust onto it and began trying to swing at you. You effortlessly dodged each of his blows and you waited for him to lose energy. He wasn’t even worth parrying with. Sure enough, when you saw the arc of his arm begin to slow down, you made your move. You avoided the blade coming for your torso by dropping to your knees and sliding over to him and cutting into his side with your sword. Your movement propelled you forward, cutting deeply, and he let out the loudest yell you’d heard yet. He pathetically tried to point the sword in your direction but you easily sidestepped the movement, watching him begin to bleed everywhere.

He tried to weakly lift the weapon once more as he held a hand over his gaping wound but you stopped him by bringing your blade down on his arm, effectively removing the limb and forcing him to scream out in pain again. It was like music to your ears and you stood there before him, glaring down at the piece of shit who didn’t deserve to be alive to even have come across you. You had a sneaky suspicion that Grace had chosen this one.

“Now you know what they felt,” you snarled quietly.

He scowled back at you and spit blood in your direction, with you stepping back to avoid the spray. “Fuck you, you dumb bitch! Just like all the rest!”

You gave him a nod and lifted your sword, his eyes slightly going wide at the sight. “Like all the rest,” you echoed and brought the blade down, hard.

Though his screams turned piercing, you took him apart piece by piece within seconds, making sure he felt everything before you finally ended him. It was more mercy than he deserved. He was worse than all of the others combined, not that they were angels themselves. Blood coated you and both swords so you used one of the others’ shirts to wipe the red stains from one of the blades. You pushed it into its sheath on your back once you were finished and held the other aloft as you pulled out the security key card Grace had given you. You could hear Soldier Boy’s breathing increase and you knew you had to get into his room and fast.

You made your way to the control panel on the left side of the doors, scanned the card, and tossed it once the green light appeared. The tell-tale sound of the doors opening sounded and you readied yourself, sword in hand.

Once the doors had pulled aside and a low level of smoke cleared which you suspected was gas (perhaps Grace had to keep him subdued while you were meting out justice on that asshole), you saw exactly what you had come for.

There stood Soldier Boy, glaring at you, his chest rising and falling, his hands in fists. Obviously, having just woken up and gotten to his feet, he was still a bit disoriented but not enough that you could take him by surprise and win. You could also see a sheen of yellow beginning to form in the center of his figure and you knew you only had seconds.

You stepped into the room, knowing there was no going back now and that Grace was watching every move from behind the dark glass. The yellow glow started to manifest and you took a quiet breath in. His eyes narrowed and he moved to face off with you, his right fist clenching harder.

You held up your free hand. “I’m not here to fight you. I’m here to break you out.”

He scoffed in disbelief. “You’re with the Reds, aren’t you? You Commie motherfuckers expect me to believe that again?” He roared with a rasp, the color of the light in his chest turning from yellow to a luminous gold with a pinkish haze.

You lifted your sword and placed it into the other waiting sheath on your back. At the action, Soldier Boy tensed further and took a step towards you.

You raised your other hand. “I’m not here to harm you.” He eyed you sharply, disbelief all over his face. “We’re not in Russia. We’re in the US, in upstate New York, at a black op CIA facility. You’ve been here for the past six months and I’m here to get you out.”

His expression didn’t change. “Why?”

“We can talk about it later. Right now, we—”

“Why?” The Supe yelled, fury lacing his tone, and the gold light got even brighter.

Gas suddenly began to flow into the room from vents in the ceiling and another loud alarm sounded, one you hadn’t heard yet. Shit. Grace was getting ready to lock it down. You’d had your shot and it hadn’t worked. You literally had one minute to get the hell out of there. But you were nothing if not stubborn and determined to see this through.

You pulled the gas mask from underneath your thin coat and held it up for him to see. You tossed it over at him and he caught it just like you hoped he would. His eyes snapped up at you, distrust and anger still clearly in his green gaze. You really couldn’t blame him but right now, you didn’t have the time.

“Like I said, I’m here to help. We don’t have time for me to explain right now. So unless you want to go back on ice…” You nodded your head towards the billowing gas making its way rapidly down to him. He glanced back in the direction you indicated and he cursed, quickly slipping the mask on. You noticed the light in his chest didn’t get any brighter but that didn’t mean he wasn’t locked and loaded, able to go off at any moment.

He met your eyes again and you inclined your head back towards the doors that were just beginning to close. “I suggest you come with me,” you threw at him and then spun on your heel, making your way out of the room. You walked a few feet and stopped, glancing back over your shoulder, hoping like hell he would follow you.

Right before the doors could close the last few feet, Soldier Boy slipped past them and came to a stop in front of you. He yanked the gas mask off but held onto it, breathing deeply of the clean air. You had made it out of the room, gotten him out of it — you’d survived the first phase of the plan and now you just needed to get through the next.

His eyes roamed over the remnants of the scene you both were standing in, seeing the bodies and blood everywhere, and landed on the mask in his hand. His gaze snapped up to you and his expression hardened, his tone dark and dangerous. “Why are you helping me?”

“Because,” you took a step towards him, staring into his eyes, pretending not to notice him tense in preparation for a fight. “I need your help.”

He huffed out a chuckle that was lacking any amusement. “Always a fucking catch. What do you want?”

You took another step towards him and you observed his jaw tightening. “We can talk about it later but right now, we really need to keep m—”

“What do you want?” He repeated.

“I need your help to take someone out.”

“Based on your handiwork,” He gestured to the scene around you with a hand. “I’d say you don’t need any help there, doll.”

Your own jaw clenched. “It’s a Supe.”

His eyes flashed and you knew that he was now aware of just who you were talking about. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together, you knew that. There was only one Supe in existence that Soldier Boy had been made to go up against before; the only one that had been as strong as him and he had been evenly matched with; the only one that he would be woken out of a Novichok coma like King Kong and sent to go fight Godzilla. “Homelander,” he spoke through gritted teeth.

You gave a nod of confirmation.

He watched you for a moment and then scrubbed a hand at his jaw. “Why the fuck would I help you?”

You lifted your chin. “He’s always been a problem but he’s only gotten more dangerous and more unstable since you were put under.”

“Not my problem.”

You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes but trying to keep the rage boiling within you in check. “Actually, it is your problem. He wouldn’t even exist if you hadn’t given Vogelbaum a sample of your DNA to work with.”

He approached you quickly, the fury radiating off of him and the rose gold pulsing in his chest. You stood your ground. “I didn’t know that Vought would make a fucking kid with it!” He roared.

You wanted to ask just what he thought the mad doctor would do with his sperm but you kept that thought to yourself, knowing this wasn’t the time. You never broke eye contact and you watched as he panted harshly, his hands in fists again, the gas mask dangling from one. You remained quiet, waiting to see what would transpire. One wrong move here and you’d be toast, gone before you could even begin the most important mission of your life. One you were determined to see through no matter the cost.

Seeing that you weren’t going to respond or react in any way, the gold light dimmed slightly and his hands slowly relaxed. “I didn’t ask for them to betray me and hand me over to the Reds where I was tortured every goddamn day for years. I didn’t ask for them to whip up some wannabe replacement behind my back. I didn’t ask to be forgotten,” he hissed.

You were a little surprised when you noticed the hurt and betrayal shadowing his gaze, but it was gone just as quickly as it had appeared. You watched as he turned to glance behind him, presumably to glare back at the room he’d been held in. But you knew he was also attempting to mask the tiny piece of vulnerability that had unexpectedly come through. You’d seen the videos of the torture he’d endured back in Russia, read his file back to back, sat through his crappy films, and you’d been fully briefed by Grace, Butcher, and the rest of the team who had exclusive dealings with him the first time he’d returned to the States six months ago. You’d also delved deep into Payback’s history and studied up on each and every one of its members. You knew about his PTSD, how he tended to self-medicate with booze, drugs, and women though he was in denial about having the disorder. You also knew that while some of his toxic beliefs and archaic attitudes were still in place, he was not entirely the same person he’d been before he was strapped to a table and Russian scientists proceeded to check off a list of several hundred different ways to try to kill him. The cocky swagger that had come so naturally to him before that was no longer the real deal. If anything, he overcompensated to try to make people believe he was the same Supe he’d been and just as dangerous as ever, with the added bonus of a nuclear threat sitting inside his chest.

“Maybe not,” you agreed quietly. He turned back towards you. “I can make it worth your while.”

A sly smile began to form on his face as his gaze roved over you. “Appreciate the offer, sweetheart, but you’re not my type. I like ‘em a little older. Although, I will say the swords and the blood, you walking in there like some goddamn avenging angel…kinda hot.”

You fought not to roll your eyes. “That’s not what I was talking about.”

“Well then, unless you’ve got some fucktastic pussy waiting for me to wreck it along with some Bennies and grade A reefer, we’ve got nothing to talk about.” He lifted the mask up in a gesture of thanks and turned to slip down the hallway past you.

Watching him step barefoot in the blood, you waited until he had made it a few feet before saying, “Your freedom.”

He froze at that, turning his head slightly to the side, listening.

You walked up to him, only stopping a foot or so away. “You help me with Homelander, and you get your freedom. No more Vought, no more government, no more pulling of your strings. You’ll be free.”

He slowly turned to face you, his expression hardened though you didn’t miss the tiny glimmer of hope carefully hidden away in his gaze. “Bullshit. You don’t have that kind of pull no matter how you found me and got me out.”

“You’re right, I don’t. Grace Mallory does.”

“Who the fuck is Grace Mallory?”

You took a step closer, noting how this time he didn’t tense in preparation. In his mind, he had already dismissed you as someone he needed to worry about. While that was a good development for your plan, it irked you a little. You may not be Homelander, but you were certainly no weakling. And with this guy, guaranteed he automatically dismissed you as a threat because he saw you as weaker than him, and also because you were a woman. “Someone who does have that kind of pull.” You took yet another step towards him, confirming your theory when he only glared down at you. “You should know, you’ve met her before.”

At his knitted brow, you supplied, “Nicaragua, 1984.”

You watched as he searched through his memories, realization dawning on his features when he found the right one, his brows arching in slight surprise. “Captain Lesbo?”

You gave him a scowl that would have made a lesser man curl up in a ball. Grace and Hughie had warned you about his outdated and toxic takes on the world around him.

That sly smile was back on his face. “She was gorgeous back then. I bet she’s aged like a real fine wine by now.” His tongue ran along his bottom lip and you felt queasy at his obvious lustful thoughts of the older woman. Right. Butcher and Hughie had given you a heads up on that, too.

Before he could get too lost in that fantasy, you made sure to interrupt with “She’s got the pull. So, are you in?”

He eyed you sharply, thinking over the offer. You also knew that he was thinking over how to secure the freedom you had dangled in front of him without having to deal with you or Grace. The sound of approaching security had you both snapping your gazes towards the noise. This was a group you couldn’t dispatch as easily as you had the first considering they were the real deal. Well, you could but you wouldn’t. You snuck a glance at his chest, seeing the gold beginning to shimmer underneath his skin once more. You had to get him out of here before the guards showed up.

He glanced back at you. “What do you get out of this?”

“I told you. Homelander dead.”

“No,” he ground out, taking a step towards you, his eyes burning into you and the light in his chest shining a golden halo on your face from his close proximity. This time, you were the one tensing, preparing to defend yourself. “What do you get?”

“My freedom as well,” you informed him, never breaking eye contact or stepping away. You were telling him the truth. Once the strongest Supe on the planet was no more, you would be free, in a way. He didn’t need to know how, though.

His eyes roved over you and he let out a disgusted huff. “You’re a Supe.”

You didn’t respond; you didn’t need to. “So, do we have a deal?” You both could hear the men getting closer. “Tick tock,” you reminded him.

The anger never faded from his expression but the light in his chest began to grow a little brighter. “How about I blow this place to hell instead and you come with me? I could do with a little entertainment after being locked away in this shithole.” He let his gaze roam over you appreciatively and you could see just what kind of entertainment he had in mind.

You squared your jaw, not at all in the mood for his womanizing machismo bullshit. “If you blow this place up, the deal is off the table. Mallory won’t stand for it and considering my freedom is on the line, neither will I. I don’t need a bunch of CIA crawling up my ass while I go after Soldier Boy Junior. As for entertainment, now’s a good time for you to get reacquainted with your right hand because there’s no way you’re getting any of that from me,” you snarled. “So either take the deal or I leave you to be hunted down by every single agency and military across the globe once word gets out that you’re still alive. And it will get out.”

You both continued glaring at one another but he didn’t say a word. The men were getting closer.

“Best of luck with that,” you snapped, and turned to slip past him, intent on leaving him behind. Your anger wasn’t feigned; you were pissed. You knew he would be stubborn, mistrustful even, given what he’d been through, but this was just beyond irritating. You didn’t have time to stop and hammer out details; you were now on the run for Christ’s sake.

You headed in the opposite direction of the guards, pulling one of your swords, readying yourself for the sprint to the exit you’d planned for. Grace must be pissing her pants right about now; she’d given you both plenty of time to get out of the building. And if she was pissing her pants, you knew Butcher and his team were crapping theirs. Soldier Boy was awake and now it was up to Grace and the CIA to put him back under, your plan a complete failure. It wasn’t your fault that the Supe was indeed the most idiotic one as Grace had stated him to be. You’d given it your best shot.

You surged forward, planning to keep casualties as low as possible should you come across anyone. A hand gripped your shoulder, hard, and turned you to face one very pissed off Soldier Boy. You got ready to start the battle of your life, knowing you were most likely going to lose, but you stopped when you noticed his chest was no longer glowing.

“You got a way out of here?”

You arched a brow up at him. “You’re taking the deal?”

He snorted and released you, his eyes flicking back towards the opposite end of the hallway you were in before returning to you. “You get us out of here, get me some food and the shit I ask for, and we’ll talk.”

“No deal, no dice.”

You went to move past him when he stopped you again, his hand gripping your upper arm. You could feel the superior strength behind it; if he wanted to, he could snap your arm like a twig, exerting very little pressure. But thankfully, he seemed more focused on getting you to listen to him rather than harming you. “You want me to help you kill Homelander?” At your nod, he let out an angry breath. “Done. I would have hunted down that sniveling pussy on my own, anyway. But after you give me what I just asked for. And then I get my freedom,” he dictated.

“We both do,” you tacked on, still shocked that you had managed to get him to agree.

His eyes roamed over your face and then he gave you a nod, letting you go. “So which way to the fucking exit?”

Just then, the guards broke through the door and spilled out into the hallway, spotting you and shouting at one another to take you both down. Soldier Boy turned a ferocious glare on them and began to step around you to take them on when you grabbed his bicep. The action prompted him to glance down at your hand, his gaze then lifting to yours. “This way,” you urged, and began to run. Thankfully, he fell in step right behind you. Bullets were suddenly being fired in your direction and you had to practically fly out of there. Those bullets might ricochet off Soldier Boy but they wouldn’t bounce so easily off of you.

As you were passing a small vehicle that you’d seen security guards traversing in on your last visit, he picked it up and launched it at the guards pursuing you. You heard the sickening sounds of machinery crunching flesh and you could only hope no one had died or had life threatening injuries. Instead, all you could manage to do now was to distract the Supe and get him out of there.

“Through here,” you called back to him. Relief pooled in your chest when you glanced back to find his attention on you. He hurried over towards you and you punched in the code Grace had given you to memorize. The door opened and you ducked as you pushed past it, hearing the sounds of more bullets flying your way. Soldier Boy was right behind you and you hit the button to close the door. Once it was shut you used your strength to punch the control panel and destroy it so the guards couldn’t follow.

You turned to find Soldier Boy’s brows arched at you in surprise before a leering smirk appeared on his face. “Well, that answers that.”

You let out a quiet scoff and slipped your sword back into the empty sheath on your back. “Like I said, that’s not happening.”

“A shame,” he practically purred at you, amusement clear as day in his eyes alongside a fire you hadn’t seen there before. It became quickly apparent just what that fire was. The image of you both tangled up in one another, the blood still on your skin, and him slamming into you up against the walls of the hallway you were now in made the queasiness from earlier reappear. It got even worse when the image transformed into one of you emerging into the room he’d been held in and him taking you right on the gurney he’d been laid out on, neither of you caring who showed up, who watched, or who ended up dying when he was finished. The queasiness had become full blown nausea at this point, and you forced it back down. You had a job to do after all.

You ignored his eyes roaming over your body and lifted your chin. “Time to go.”

You marched past him and continued on the route you and Grace had planned. Thankfully, he followed and the images began to peter out the closer you got to the outside. You were beyond grateful for that; you could only see his face contorted in pleasure as he rutted into you so many times before you would actually throw up. Not for the first time since you’d been turned, you cursed this gift you had been given.

“I take it Captain Lesbo gave you the code back there?” He asked.

“Who do you think told me where to find you?” You countered.

You led the way through another tunnel until you came to a heavy door that supposedly led to the parking lot outside. You yanked out both swords, pulled your hood up, and flicked your gaze over to the Supe. “Ready?”

You watched as his hands clenched into fists once more. “Lead the way.”

You tested the door. It swung open and suddenly both of you were engulfed in the bright light of the sun. You scanned the parking lot when you noticed the office supplies van parked about three hundred feet away, right where Grace said it would be. “It’s a short run but we’ve got to make it fast. She’ll only be able to get us a blind spot from the cameras for a few minutes. We’re headed for that van over there.” You gestured in the vehicle’s direction. “So when I say go, we run like hell.”

The man gave you a curt nod and held a hand over his eyes, looking over the lot as well.

You waited, tensed and prepared for a fight, hoping it wouldn’t be a long one. Grace should have eyes on you by now and Team B should be ready to engage you the moment you both stepped out further. You really wished you had an earpiece for this part but due to Soldier Boy’s extra sharp hearing, it had been decided across the board that it was too much to risk. You would just have to keep trusting in the timing of the plan you had come up with. You could hear the rumbling of a motor coming closer, picking up speed and gaining momentum. You held up a hand near the Supe and began to manually count down from 5.

A box truck was about to pass by as you got to 2, signaling to you that Phase 3 was a go, when suddenly everything went to hell. Soldier Boy stepped out in front of the vehicle, unflinching as it made impact with his body. To your absolute amazement, you silently watched as his feet stayed stationary and the truck began to wrap itself around the Supe, the object needing to go somewhere, and split right down the middle. You could hear the loud screeching of the metal and the terrified yell of the driver before it was abruptly cut off. Your brain barely had time to process what you were seeing when Soldier Boy picked up one half of the sliced truck and launched it in the air as if it were a football. It was aimed at a location where you knew reinforcements were waiting to rush out and engage you from. You heard the tell-tale screams and ensuing splat. Mallory was going to be pissed.

The Supe then turned a glower back onto you. “No need to run now.” You could see that though he had been attracted to you a few minutes ago, had mostly agreed to your deal, and you had broken him out, he still didn’t trust you completely. You could understand that, respect it even. But you couldn’t have him going off script like this if your plan was to succeed. And the plan could not fail. Something you would make clear to him once you were both far away from here.

Truthfully, you should have anticipated something like this. Soldier Boy was volatile, unpredictable at best, but once you had gotten him to switch off the nuke in his chest, you had naively thought you could get him out with a low body count. That certainly wasn’t the case now. You were grateful that you were already mid-op because you knew if you weren’t, Mallory would have immediately shut you down. No way in hell was that happening.

That last thought spurred you into action. You nodded and sheathed both of your swords, heading towards the van. A strong hand on your shoulder stopped you.

“Choose something else,” he ordered.

You shot him an irritated glare. “That’s the vehicle they have set up for us. Which means there’s keys, gas — the works.”

“It also means they can track us.” You were slightly surprised but you kept it off of your features. “Butcher and his cumguzzler thought I wasn’t listening to their bitchfests when they were tracking down my old team for me.” His eyes snapped to yours. “I was.”

Of course he had been. You could see now that this was something everyone had missed when dealing with him in the past, his most recent foray into the modern world included. Butcher and his team had been so focused on the danger the Supe presented and his lethality, that they hadn’t realized just how closely he had been listening and watching. Several examples of this behavior flickered through his mind quickly and you saw every single one which had always turned things to his advantage while turning badly (sometimes deadly) for others. Butcher and Hughie had easily dismissed him as a fossil who didn’t know what a smartphone was. Even Mallory had said he was the most idiotic of all the Supes to ever exist. And he had let them. He let them think he was the Soldier Boy they had seen on their TV screens once upon a time, in old newspaper clippings, and what had been jotted down in his file over the years he had been active with Vought: the public persona and the demanding celebrity personality behind all of that. But this Soldier Boy…this one was far more clever, calculating, and you knew then that this was where the real danger resided. A quick flash of a woman you recognized as Crimson Countess bound to a chair in a double wide followed by an explosion and another image of her charred corpse afterwards confirmed your suspicions.

Right now, any other person having realized what you just did, they might have turned back. Or they would get him to the next location and bow out, let Butcher and Mallory handle it from there on out. But you weren’t that person and you were fully in this. You had started this and you were committed to see it all the way through. And see it through you would, come hell or high water or murderous Supes. There was no other option; there never had been from the moment you woke up with a foreign chemical running through your veins, enhanced abilities, and fine-tuned senses. What you just discovered about the Supe currently glaring you down could only help the plan in the long run while also ensuring you were even more careful than you already planned to be.

You turned to face him fully and stared into his eyes. “Understood.” You wanted him to know that you knew, even if he didn’t know how yet, and that despite that, you were still sticking to the plan which included him.

He studied you for a moment and you could see that while he was still unsure about you, he was deciding to trust you…for now. He released your shoulder and slightly relaxed his stance.

“Any ideas?” Since he had changed this part of the plan, you figured he could offer up an alternative.

“Don’t care as long as it runs.” He glanced towards the lot filled with other heavy duty vehicles.

“Agreed. But we still need to move. We don’t have long before the cameras turn back on.” You immediately made your way towards a dark blue SUV sitting parked near a curb. You had a feeling this may have belonged to some of the agents he had just killed, but it only meant three things to you: keys, gas, and a working car that could handle the speed and damage you would need to get out of here. You tried the back door, finding it unlocked, and you immediately knew you had been right. No one was coming to reclaim this vehicle, not for a while anyway.

You quickly removed the scabbard from your back and slipped it into the backseat before jumping behind the wheel. Soldier Boy hopped in next to you, watching you as you turned the engine over. You didn’t bother mentioning that once Mallory and Butcher figured out you were in this vehicle, they could track it as well; that would only be counterproductive to the plan and make him more suspicious of you.

You pulled away from the curb and sped out of the lot. When you got near the security booth, a platoon of armed guards tried to flag you down. This was one of the reasons why the office supplies van had been selected. You could have removed your gear and passed yourself off as a delivery driver; Mallory had already greenlit that part of the plan. This…well, you would need to improvise.

You glanced over at Soldier Boy who was scowling in their direction. “Hang on,” you warned. Not that he needed to; he’d already proven that nothing could damage or even dent that super strong body of his. You, on the other hand, had to duck down as you pressed the gas pedal to the floor, gunning it. Bullets began flying towards your car but you didn’t let up, not even when you presumably hit a couple of the guards in your bid to escape. You felt Soldier Boy’s hand roughly push you down further in your seat and his other hand land next to yours on the wheel. A few more sickening thuds, pings from bullets, and wet crunches when the car jumped up slightly as your wheels mowed over those who hadn’t moved, and then you were scot free.

“We’re clear,” Soldier Boy gruffed out next to you, releasing you and moving back into his seat.

You lifted up and glanced in your sideview mirror, seeing the destruction you had just caused getting further and further away. You tried to feel remorse about it, you really did, but that emotion — any emotion — was the gateway to weakness and you couldn’t afford that. Especially not now.

“You injured?”

You weren’t but you slid your hood back and automatically glanced down at yourself to double check. “Nope. You?”

You looked up at him and as expected, his bare muscular chest was smooth, free of any injuries. His arms and face contained barely a shadow of a bruise, never mind an actual wound. He noticed your perusal of him and his lips twisted into a cocky smirk. An image of him railing you in the backseat had you turning back to the road, trying to mask your disgust.

“I’m good, doll,” he assured you. “Real good. Fucking horny as shit, though. It’s been a while. Think you can find us a place to pull over and let me fuck you quick?”

This was going to be a long ride. “Seems to me your right hand is free.”

Instead of being annoyed at your answer, he only smirked wider. “Is that your way of telling me you’d like me to start us off by jerking it while you look for a place?”

“No,” You met his gaze head on. “That’s my way of telling you not to let your wrist cramp up on this mission because you’re going to be jerking it quite a bit.”

He seemed completely unbothered by your words. “You want to see my dick?”

You scoffed in disgust and focused back on the road.

“I’m fully hard right now and let me tell you, it is a fucking sight to behold. Extra strength wasn’t the only thing the V gave me.” His teeth dug into his bottom lip as he continued trying to convince you. “Women love my dick. There isn’t a woman I’ve fucked that has ever walked right again.”

“Wow,” you quipped. “Quite the selling point.”

He ignored your snarkiness. “You see it for yourself, dollface, and I guarantee you’ll be changing your mind. All I’ve gotta do is pull it out, right here, right now, and you’ll be begging for me to slip it inside you.”

You had noticed the bugle in his sweats out of the corner of your eye before you turned away just before; you knew he was telling you the truth. He was horny, hard, and literally about to whip it out. Not unless you shut him down hard. You may not be able to keep him from pleasuring himself right there next to you, but at least he would know there was no way in hell you were going anywhere near his supposedly legendary manhood. You wished you could tell that he was lying but you could only see images of women worshiping him and his body as he thought back over his vast amount of conquests. When you saw his hand reaching into his sweats from your peripherals, you decided the time to make your firm boundaries on this subject known was now.

“I’m never having sex with you so don’t even bother. I’m here to do a job and that job isn’t you, as much as you might like it to be. When we get to the motel, if you want to find an old lady willing to help you with your problem, fine by me. But this,” you gestured between the two of you. “Is never happening.”

He snickered next to you. “You say that now but I’m telling you, doll, one peek at my dick might change your mind. Or when you hear how fucking good I’m giving it to some other gal.” He turned another filthy smile on you. “But just know that when I’m wrecking that pussy, I’ll be thinking of you and how good I know you’d feel squeezing around me.”

The images of you in the throes of pleasure returned and you tensed, your jaw tightening, but you forced yourself to think only of the plan. “What every girl hopes to hear,” you muttered. You glanced in the rearview mirror and very far back, you noticed Butcher’s vehicle following you. You weren’t surprised; Mallory had never really turned the cameras off and it’s not like you hadn’t left a big blinking neon sign back there to get her attention on where you had exited the compound.

Soldier Boy’s hand rubbed over the bulge in his pants a few times before he chuckled under his breath and went to look out his window. “So, you know who I am, you know my name… I don’t know yours. Why don’t you tell me?”

You clenched your fingers on the wheel and held your breath, focusing your vision on the rearview.

A moment later, Soldier Boy turned to look at you, smirking. You subtly let out your breath and relaxed your grip on the wheel, placing your eyes back on the road. “I bet it’s a real pretty one. Come on, tell me.”

You could hear him dialing up the flirtation, switching from being direct to now trying to charm you. “Name’s Persephone.”

“Persephone? That is pretty but it sounds like a Supe name.”

You briefly glanced over at him. “It is.”

He seemed to think it over, nodding after a moment in approval. “What’s your real name?”

“Nope.” You shook your head.

“You’re not going to tell me?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

You met his eyes once more. “Because you haven’t earned that yet.” You waited another moment before finally breaking away from his intense gaze.

You could see as he took you in, how his eyes roamed over you hungrily, and you knew the moment he decided to accept the challenge he was determined that you presented. Another chuckle escaped him and he looked out his window again. “Alright, doll. We’ll play it your way, for now. Besides, it’s really my name that matters in this situation here.”

Your brows began to furrow and you did your best to get a read on him. What was he talking about? “How so?”

You watched as he turned to look at you and you could feel the rush of desire that immediately ran through him as images of you screaming, begging, and moaning “Ben! Oh my god, Ben! Ben, don’t ever stop fucking me, please! Fuck, Ben! Fucking give it to me! Oh fuck, right there!” floated to the forefront of his mind. You knew what his words would be before he even said them. “Because you’ll be screaming it before long.”

The nausea from earlier was back but you tamped it down and waited until he turned away from you again. Your eyes flickered to the rearview mirror and relief consumed you when you noticed Butcher’s vehicle was no longer anywhere to be seen. Not only had you successfully distracted the Supe but the moment Soldier Boy became interested in the topic of you, Phase 4 of the overall plan began. Now you only had to get him to the motel, get him rested and recharged, and then your work could truly begin. Leading you all down the path to the only thing that mattered: the eradication of Vought, and the end of Homelander once and for all.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy fanfiction #call my name chapter 1 #call my name #thebiggerbear writes

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make-me-imagine · 11 months ago

Text

Valentines Headcanons {OPLA}

Headcanons: How the Straw Hats + Others surprise you on Valentines Day

Pairings: Zoro x Gn!Reader; Sanji x Gn!Reader; Luffy x Gn!Reader; Nami x Gn!Reader; Usopp x Gn!Reader; Mihawk x Gn!Reader; Buggy x Gn!Reader; Shanks x Gn!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of food/eating in most headcanon sections.

A/n's: I wanted to write something for Valentines Day, and opla has been rotating in my mind so I wrote this! No idea if its good or not, but I hope you like it! Straw Hats ages are not mentioned in this, but I think of them as older than 18 when writing for them, so imagine this takes place later in the series/timeline.

Words: 1,312

Zoro

Zoro tries to be romantic, but comes across a bit awkward. Though he is still very sweet with his words when he wants.

On Valentines Day he told you he made a reservation at a nice restaurant on the island you were currently on.

But unfortunately, neither of you made it as you decided to follow Zoro there.

So naturally, you got lost.

"I swear it was on this road, I was just here yesterday."

"Unless you made a reservation at a butcher shop we aren't in the right area."

After wandering for an hour and trying not to laugh as Zoro got more and more frustrated, you found yourself in a cute park surrounded by trees and markets.

Making a new plan, the two of you went to the market, bought some food and drinks, and had a spontaneous picnic in the park.

Zoro secretly bought you a bouquet of flowers, and was very proud of himself when he surprised you with them.

The picnic ended up being very relaxing and sweet, and you couldn't have asked for anything better.

Sanji

Sanji, the classic and hopeless romantic he is, would of course cook you a special dinner complete with all of your favorite dishes.

After a cute and surprisingly simple breakfast and a cozy mid-day, complete with the two of you exchanging flowers and chocolates, he shut himself in the kitchen telling you he had a surprise for you.

He spent the next few hours recreating all of your favorite dishes with so much devotion that one look towards Luffy when he tried to sneak in sent the poor boy running.

Did he make way too much food? Yes. Was he worried? No.

Because after you had your fill he did have every intention of letting the others take what they wanted (mainly Luffy as an apology for the death-glare)

I think Sanji is totally the type to propose on Valentines Day as well.

So later in your relationship, do not be shocked if he surprises you with a ring after dinner.

Luffy

Luffy wanted to surprise you, but hes not exactly subtle.

"What's your favorite flower?" "What's your favorite chocolate?"

"Why?"

"No Reason!"

You of course were not surprised when he did surprise you with a bundle of your favorite flowers, and some chocolates.

Some of the chocolates looked a bit...odd.

It didn't take long before he boasted about having Sanji teach him how to make the chocolates himself.

You also gave him chocolates, which he was very grateful for. Because even though he ate many chocolates while making them, he could always eat more.

Especially if you gave them to him.

He also had Sanji teach him how to prepare your favorite meal for dinner.

It wasn't the best food, but it was the thought that counted, and if Luffy was anything, he was thoughtful.

Nami:

You are Nami's first serious partner.

So she wasn't really sure how to celebrate the holiday with you.

But the two of you decided to figure out something together that you could both enjoy.

In the end, you decided to wander around the town of the most recent island you ended up on.

The two of you ended up having a great time as you found a market, which was very lively and had a lot of food, music and activities going on.

You bought Nami a necklace as a present, and she got you a bracelet.

The day passed quickly as you enjoyed your time together.

You ended the night lying on the beach, drinks and snacks in hand as you watched the sunset fade and the stars come out.

Nami knew that she loved you, but being this comfortable and happy with you, truly made her appreciate it more.

Usopp:

Usopp is a nervous mess on Valentines Day.

He greets you with a bouquet of handpicked flowers, chocolates and a shaky voice.

Even though you two have been together for a short time he is still gets nervous around you.

You find it endearing of course, and kiss him on the cheek in thanks.

Usopp is shocked and touched when you surprise him with a gift as well.

He proceeds to become more confident because of this and goes off on a tangent about your relationship and his feelings.

It is adorable and only makes you fall for him even more.

After this, he tells you he has a surprise for you, and he takes you to a restaurant to surprise you with dinner.

He needed a reservation and didn't have one, but somehow smooth talks your way in. To both of your surprise.

Mihawk

Mihawk loves you and shows it in various, almost mysterious ways. Most of which you've gotten used too.

But something you did not expect was for him to celebrate something like Valentines Day.

You figured he wasn't even aware the holiday was near.

So when it came to the day of, you didn't expect anything.

But much to your surprise, you found a large, very out of place bouquet of flowers.

Seeing a note, you checked it to find a simple, yet beautiful message.

"To my soul, whom I would be incomplete without."

Mihawk would be watching your reaction secretly, and smiled in pride seeing the grin on your face.

When you saw him next, he acted nonchalant about it, not showing any real reaction.

But you caught the small tug of his lips and knew he enjoyed how his surprise made you feel.

The two of you would also have a slightly fancier and more expensive dinner than normal, which he also didn't seem to to take real notice of.

But had obviously planned it for you on purpose.

Buggy

Buggy is extra with everything.

So of course he is going to go nuts with his Valentines Day surprise for you.

He planned a show just for you to enjoy, using all of your favorite tricks and things to make you laugh.

At the end of the show he surprises you with an abundance of gifts.

Flowers, desserts, chocolates, jewelry, money, the list goes on.

It was a bit overwhelming but you knew he was just trying to spoil you and make you feel special.

If you try to reject any of it, he will be bummed.

You surprise him with a few of your own tailored gifts and he is overjoyed and thankful.

His final surprise is a buffet like dinner with all the food you could imagine eating.

Buggy is a lot, but if anything, he will never bore you.

And he will spoil you and treat you like royalty.

Shanks

Shanks is a casual romantic.

He loves to do various simple, yet sweet things to make you happy.

On Valentines Day, he gets you flowers, and set's up a picnic on the beach.

You have an abundance of snack foods and drinks, and the two of you relax together for hours just soaking each other in.

He tells you stories of his adventures, and you listen with awe, even if you had heard them before.

You talk about all of the adventures and trips the two of you will go on together.

You watch the sunset together while lying with your head in his lap.

Shanks takes the time to tell you everything he loves about you, and how much he desires to spend the rest of his life with you, no matter where it takes you.

His final gift to you is a small compass on a chain. It had been designed to open as a locket, and inside was a small lock of his hair.

He said that no matter what happens, the compass will always bring you back to him.

You don't really understand how, but he was right, it really did always lead you back to him.

xx End xx

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @imaginesfire, @rexit-mo, @onuen, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry

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parasolemn · 10 months ago

Note

doodle of Authority? it is my fav skill...

ehe. whoopsies! sorry anon it's been. A Month. and no end in sight

anyways images for you

you can probably already tell some of these are. Older. but yea. there was a lot of "well it's just a doodle I don't need to go super hard on these" and then "this is awful we need to start over" so. there's. a lot of images. most I've drawn this freak ever actually

deserved though. big thanks to my New Buddy who made me see the light like two months ago. he [LONG RAMBLE I DELETED] 🤨 UUGHHH I can't go off on a ramble about authority rn I'm unnormal about him sadly but I have so many words in my brain about him and all the other skills ue ue ue

i should post images...

i did some doodles in my book too when i was working but. eeeh? wasn't really sure if this was what you were after either... also I always take an opportunity to draw encyclopedia hi ency hi. i love throwing ency at the other skills i love thinking about skill interactions

don't mind the date on the last image I accidentally dated it 1st jan instead of 1st feb and couldn't be fucked to fix it. as I said, Old (can i even say stuff is old if it's a month old. uhm. wll i changed my art style so it counts)

parcark: nobody else is autistic about DE skills like you are they won't want to see them blorbified in an ooc but funny way. also parcark:

this was not worth a month's wait. oops.

COUGHCOUGH BY THE WAY . volition design is from @tubrasko (this wasnt the image i asked you abt btw i'm doing a larger one than this RN!!!! grins) suggestion design is from @vesli1 sorry for butchering your boy a bit I only had a pen my pencil broke 💔 empathyyy i stole from @trialofasphodel waves at you Hi ! i know both of u have seen these imgs b4 btw srry for re @ ing you the auth and drama designs are froommmm spilledkaleidoscope I won't @ that's scary.cough

love him. ok bye anon !! i hope you don't mind i know these aren't the best quality o7

#i'm not really happy with any of this but if i don't post this now this ask will never get responded to so. shrugs. mh #i'll probably redeem myself some day when i get to auth for skill-quote-on-quote-tober. some day...#i'm going to punch myself in the face #parcark art tag #undescribed #disco elysium #doodle requests #art dump #de skills #disco elysium skills #<- which tag do you guys usually use for this ?? ive seen both...#This has been sitting in my drafts for so long I'm just going to post it and then crawl up into a ball and perishFUUUCK !!!!!

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mollywog · 6 months ago

Text

Complicated

They've finally made it to a place where they’re stable enough that he doesn’t need to spend every Sunday out in the woods. The girls have stopped outgrowing their clothes and with the spring, Katniss’s morning hauls bring what they need for the week. He still loves it beyond the fence, but after years in the mines, six days a week, even a favorite pastime can make a man weary. So lately he’s forgone his hunts for time on the porch rocker.

But this morning he’s back in the woods at his wife’s insistence. She’d said she was worried about Katniss in an unusually cryptic way that suggested she wanted him to judge for himself. Katniss and Ruth are both headstrong, two peas in a pod, though he knows better than to speak it to either aloud. As a result, the tough conversations come better from him.

He’s paid particular attention all morning, but can’t seem to pinpoint the source of his wife’s anxiety. Though she has only just turned eighteen, Katniss seems to have grown into a woman overnight. Or maybe this has been a long time coming and he’s missed it in the dim light of evening. If anything, she seems to be alight from within.

It isn’t until it’s time to dress their kills that he understands his wife’s concern. Katniss’s glow vanishes, replaced by a palid green hue before she loses her breakfast behind a bush.

Shit.

He crouches beside her, his water flask in hand, “let’s sit down and talk Catkin.”

“Do we have to?”

“I don’t need the particulars, just a few questions,” Where her mother would lecture and fret, he knows there’s no use in the would’ve/should've - what’s done is done. “How far along?”

“Not long, but I’m keeping it, if that’s what you’re after,” she says, clutching her midsection protectively.

He nods, “and you know who the father is?”

“Of course,” she snaps and he’s glad to see she’s still got fire despite her exhaustion.

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t realize you had a boy. Does he know?”

“Not yet.” He lets his silence speak for itself. “It’s complicated,” she adds defensively.

“Is he free?”

“One final reaping. Same as me.”

“That’s not what I meant. Is he free?”

She scowls, “No papa, he’s not married nor bound.”

He tisks, “Then I can’t figure what could be so complicated about it. Unless you don’t think he’ll do what’s right? Or maybe you don’t want him?”

She sighs, “it’s not that either,” she rubs her eyes, “I’m gonna tell him, but if I do it now he won’t want to wait to get married and that would ruin things for him.”

“Hmm, Is he a fool?”

“What? No!”

“If you trust him, you should tell him. If he respects you, he’ll heed your concerns. You’re a smart girl, I’m sure you can figure it all out. If not, you'll always have a home with your mother and I.” He means it, but he feels ten years older than he had just this morning, with the thought of their present security gone.

“Thanks papa,” she says, and he smiles despite his concerns. “I’ll think on it.”

Their trip to town is made in silence as he tries to imagine the man and the circumstance but comes up blank; not even a guess.

Their first stop is the Mayor’s, then Cray’s, then the butcher’s. He stands back and watches Katniss handle the trades. It fills him with pride.

When they arrive at the bakery, she falls in step behind him, and he takes the hint to lead. He’d bet she’s looking for a buffer if the baker’s witch of a wife is around, but fortunately for them one of the sons answers today; the youngest if he recalls. “Is your father in?” he asks.

The boy straightens, “Yes sir, but I’ll be handling trades from now on. Come summer, I’ll be the new baker.” The kid’s eyes flit to his daughter then back to him, “I just got word that my loan was approved. I close on the bakery July 5.”

“Really?!” Katniss’s voice catches him off guard and he turns to find her open delight at this seemingly trivial piece of town news, before she drops her eyes to her bag. He looks back at the boy who’s still beaming at his daughter and the pieces fall into place.

‘It’s complicated’ - hadn’t that been what Ruthie’d told him all those years ago when he’d asked her to marry him? He supposes it might have been even more so if her parents had been considering selling her the business and she’s been expecting his child.

The pair regain their composure enough to complete the trade, though neither quite successful at hiding their giddiness.

“Complicated huh?” He says as they walk back towards the Seam, “let me guess, a little less complicated come July 5?”

“Maybe so.”

He hums, “just don’t wait till then to tell him.”

What If?

#And it could be true now couldn't it?#everlark fanfiction #everlark drabble #canon divergence #unplanned pregnancy #katniss everdeen #mr everdeen #peeta mellark #this would have happened anyway

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cheynovak · 1 year ago

Text

A new beginning

Reader x Misha Collins

Warnings: 16+ Sex, fluff, trauma, commitment issues, jealousy, Age difference...

Side note: English isn’t my first language.

Words: 6172

Y/N and Misha became friends after Jensen introduced the two of you at his birthday party. Even though Y/N is a lot younger than Misha, Jensen saw a perfect match between you two. But... will Y/N and Misha feel the same way?

*not my GIF*

-----------------------

“There he is!” Y/N said smiling while walking up to Jensen with his gift. “Sorry had no time to wrap it. Happy Birthday buddy!” She kissed him on his cheek. “Thank! I’m glad you made it.” He said. “Well, Jack and Karl are here already, somewhere.” “Don’t worry I’ll find them.” She winked at him before leaving him in the hands of the guest who arrived after you.

Y/N was the newest member of “the boys” cast, she plays an old love interest of soldier boy who became a villain after Soldier boy chose Crimson Countess, the type of supe Butcher loves to manipulate to fight for him. The crew and cast made you feel at home right away even though you just started to film. Y/N became quite quickly friends with Jensen and Karl, and of course they found out that Y/N was a supernatural fan growing up. In a couple of months, she would turn 28 but whenever interviewers talked about how Jensen feels working with such a young girl on the show, he always said the same thing. “She is younger, but a very mature person, would even say and old soul.” And that is exactly how she felt, an old soul in a young body. She always had a better connection with people who were a little older.

After a few hours, food and drinks Jensen made his way towards you and the guys. “This must be so surreal for Y/N.” Jack said. You all looked at his with a confused look. ”Didn’t she once admit being a supernatural fan? And all the actors are standing, what, 3 feet away.” Y/N shook her head while smiling and slightly blushing. “Who is your favourite?” Karl decided to at oil to the fire. “Oh no, we are not going down that road!” Y/N said. “Ah come on!” Jensen bumped your shoulder. “Was it Dean?” He asked teasingly. “I think she is more of a Sam girl.” Jack teased. “No, no actually I was a Dean girl.” Y/N admitted “Until season 4.” She looked at Jensen, who thought about that for a second. “CASTIEL!” He said very surprised but seem to like your answer. She smiled shyly.

Later that night Y/N decided to head back to the hotel, she had to take her fight back to LA in the morning. So, she asked Danneel where Jay was before leaving without saying a word. Y/N placed her hand on his shoulder. “Hey buddy I’m heading out. Got a flight tomorrow.” “Oh no, wait one second, I want you to meet someone.” Jensen said while taking her wrist and walking her trough the crowed. And before she could see or say anything she hears Jensen: “Mish! Meet Y/N, Y/N Misha... She really likes you.” He said with a grin wide smile before leaving you standing in front of him with eyes wide open. Looking nervous, like a fangirl at ComiCon meeting her hero. “I eh, hi.” Y/N managed to say giving him a hand. ”Hi...” “This is awkward, isn’t it?” Y/N smiled shyly. “A little... But It’s ok.” He smiled friendly. ”Eh, how do you know Jensen?” “The Boys.” Y/N answered shortly. The two of you started to talk and surprisingly the awkwardness quickly disappeared. But as much as you liked the conversation, that had you staying there for another 90 minutes, you had to get some hours of sleep before getting on the plane.

The next morning

Y/N was sitting at the gate with her hoody and headphones on, listening to music while looking at other people in the airport, sipping her coffee trying to stay awake. That night she didn’t had much sleep thinking about the conversation she had with Misha, he did seem really nice, she could see why he was still friends with Jensen. But most of all Y/N wished she had given him her number. As she was scanning the crowd, she noticed someone familiar, Misha, he was sitting at the same gate as her, sunglasses, coffee and hoodie. Even though they had talked the night before she was nervous to go and talk to him. The voice on the intercom announced that they while start boarding now and Misha got up and quickly moved in line. Y/N could see his broad shoulders, how amazing would it be if they would end up sitting next to each other, but he probably flies first-class she thought.

But to her surprise he didn’t, he sat a couple of rows ahead of her, she had to pass him for going to her seat. Misha recognised her, “Y/N! Hi, what a coincidence!” He got up quickly hugged her before she held back the people behind her. “I know right! Have a good fight!” She said way to enthusiastic. During boarding Misha kept looking back to see where she was seated noticing the seats next to her were empty. Once in the air Y/N started to read a book to make sure she wouldn’t be looking at Misha every two seconds.

Little did she know that he did look at her a few times, hoping she would look at him. But after a while he got up and moved to sit next to her. Y/N was a little surprised, “Would you mind if I sit next to you?” “No! Of course not!” - “So, LA? What are the plans?” He asked casually. “Home, I rent a house there. Just a little break between projects. You?” “For now, home. We’re trying to sell the house, but I live there for now.” Y/N knew he and his wife had split up, she, like all the other fans had read his poems, but she decided not to get into detail about that.

Misha and Y/N started to talk some more. “So, Jensen said you liked me? What did he mean?” Misha asked with an innocent smile. “They asked me who my favourite SPN character was... I said Castiel.” “Aaah, I get it. So, you don’t like me me ... You like Cas me.” he laughed. “Yeah, I’m so terribly sorry.” Y/N joked. Y/N and Misha soon found out that they had a few similar interests, both loved to read, music and art. Y/N painted in her spare time while Misha wrote poetry, one couldn't do what the other did but, admired the art form of the other. Y/N showed him drawings and paintings of her own, While Misha read some of his drafts. The plane seemed to land way to fast, neither of them wanted to end the conversation but when they were safe and sound on the ground and got their luggage, they said goodbye. “Well, I see that my cap is here.” Misha said, “It was nice to talk to you again!” Y/N nodded “Likewise!” Misha hugged her and turned to the taxi driver. “Oh, Misha! Before I forget.” Y/N yelled. “Here is my number.” She wrote it on a small piece of paper she had in her jacket. “If you, I don’t know, want to talk or hang out sometimes, I would like that.”

Misha got in the taxi, thinking whether he should call her, she seemed nice, but he was afraid he would expect more of him than he could offer. Especially now, even though he and Vicky had been separated for a while he wasn’t ready to date. He needed to focus on being a dad, actor and healing his mental wounds.

Y/N noticed Misha’s face when she gave him her number, he looked scared, maybe even a little hurt. She hoped she didn’t offened him by doing so. It was days later when she got a text from him, Y/N thought she wouldn’t hear from him again.

Mish: “Free this afternoon?”

Y/N: “Jup, why?”

Mish:”Lunch? 1 pm?”

Y/N:” Count me in!”

Y/N googled the place he had suggested, and decided to dress casually, but catches herself taking a little more afford in her hair and make-up than she would usually do.

Misha noticed her walking in, long summer dress, sunglasses, matching bag, she smiled when she noticed him. “Hi again.” she said while giving him a hug and kiss on the cheek. “You look great! I feel underdressed.” Misha said. “Nonsense, by the way this place looks amazing!” Y/N answered looking around. After they both ordered Y/N decided to ask him about his reaction at the airport. ”Misha, maybe it’s not my place or question to ask, and if so, please let me know but, I couldn't help but notice the panic in your eyes when I gave you my number. Did I do something wrong?” Misha let out a breath before answering. “Well, I don’t know how much you know about my personal life. But I am recently divorced, and I didn’t want to give you the wrong impression. Because I am far, far from ready to date.” Y/N nodded very understanding still listening, “And Jensen wanted me to meet you for quit sometime now, I had no idea what he said to you before introducing so, I panicked a little.” “I see, it was never my intention to date you, I just like that we get along.” She smiled.

“Great, because I could use a friend who isn’t connected to my marriage, especially here, closer to home. That’s what happens when you’ve been together since school, your friends become her friends and vice versa.” “I understand and consider me your new friend.” Y/N smiled “But eh, Jay talked about me?” “Yes, days before the party, said you were an amazing woman, who I might like... You know a friend trying to help.” “Is that so...” Y/N got up from her chair, “Let’s send him a thank you for our new friendship texted.” Squatting next to Misha holding your phone to take a selfie. “What are you going to say?” He asked taking a sip of his drink.

“Thanks Jay. Found myself a new friend... No worries won’t replace you... Yet 😉 Xx."

Y/N send the picture to Misha as well.

Once home Misha opened the DM from Y/N and truly looked at it for the first time. He liked that his smile was genuine but couldn’t help to notice that she was a lot younger than he was. What are you worrying about, he thought, you just told her to be friends nothing more.

+ 10 months later

Y/N and Misha grew closer in the near year they known each other now, at first hanging out whenever his kids weren’t with him and when they didn’t have project to work on. Later they met her and started to call her aunty Y/N. And of course, they supported each other.

Misha and Jensen had a convention to go to. Some die-hard fans had noticed Misha hanging out with Y/N in public and seem to have question about that. Both men told the story the way it was. Met each other and became friends. But one fan had a question that lingered in Misha’s mind. “Jensen, you and Y/N have a, let’s call it spicy scene together, what was it like to film something like that, and Misha since you are their friend, have you seen it, and what were your thoughts?”

Jensen answered the question first. Saying filming something like that is always awkward, but that because they became friends, they had their fair share of laughs that day. Misha had to be honest he hadn’t seen the latest season yet. Realising he never talked to Y/N about it, while she seemed up to date with his projects, supporting him, wishing him luck. So, he decided to watch the season at home. Mid-season the scene the fans talked about played, Misha noticed a strange feeling seeing Y/N getting al hot and heavy with Jensen, well he knew it was Soldier boy and her character but still. He felt a knot in his stomach, could it be jealousy? Not a second later he received a text.

Y/N: “Made dinner... way too much... Hungry?”

Mish: “Be there in 20?”

Y/N: ”Perrrrrrfect!”

“I’m sorry, I'm already in my comfy clothes.” She said answering the door in her short shorts and tank top with fluffy slippers. “So, what were you up to today?” Y/N asked while walking Misha to the kitchen. ” Not much, started watching the boys.” He said drawing out her reaction. “Really! What season?” Y/N answered enthusiast - “The last one.” - ”Oooh, you seen me naked yet?” she said teasingly wiggling her brows. - “Actually, the second before you texted.” He admitted laughing at the face she made. Y/N looked dramatic like he just had a kick to the balls. “I am so sorry for that traumatic experience.” - “Yeah, could have giving me a heads up.” he smirked - ”Hey, if you would have told me you were watching it, I might have. Or better would watch it with you just to see your face.” She said smiling turning to the oven to get the last dish out. While she bent over Misha couldn’t help but staring at her curves, feeling busted like a teenager when she turned around.

After dinner Misha helped her with the dishes, “Why did you start to watch the boys?” Y/N asked out of the blue. “Really didn’t think that was your thing.” Looking over her shoulder while Misha placed a dried plate on the clean table. “It isn’t, but I figured, you follow me and compliment me on everything I do. As a friend I could at least watch your work.” Y/N hummed in response. “I appreciate that.” she answered with a little tear in her eye.

Little did Misha know Y/N just had a date that went terrible. Some rude new rising star her age. The first and last thing that came out of his mouth was how much slimmer Y/N seemed in the boys and in pictures. How he thought she could lose weight if she trained with him and that she better not wear high heels, making her taller than him... after that night Y/N really didn’t want to be alone, and could use a familiar face.

“Are you crying?” Misha notice. “It’s nothing.” She answered quickly before turning back to the dishes. “Did I do something wrong?” He asked really worried, “Oh no, really, it’s nothing... I just had a really bad date.” Misha’s heart dropped... “Date? I didn’t know you were dating.” He tried to sound as an interested friend. “Yeah, one of my friends set me up.” She said still cleaning the same dish. “All he did was talking about my weight and height.” Y/N turned to Misha. “I mean, I know I’m taller than the average woman but fat? I worked day and night at the gym before shooting the boys, I weight more then with muscles than now.” Misha felt sorry for her. “Oh honey”, he pulled her in is arms holding one hand on her hair and the other between her shoulders. “You are perfect. And if that boy can’t see it... then you need to find yourself a man who can.”

Y/N looked up at Misha, seeing his worried blue eyes looking at her, like she seen them so many times before, but there was something more to them now. Before she knew it Y/N stood on her toes and kissed his lips, brushing her lips softly over his, when she moved away, Misha’s lips followed hers. Holding his hands on her neck and cheeks, after the kiss he kept his eyes closed a little longer, Y/N waited for his reaction. He opened his eyes, but instead of being relieved Y/N noticed the same panic she saw at the airport. “I’m sorry... I have to go.”

“Misha, wait!” Y/N followed him to the door. “Please, I’m sorry I should have never... But please, I really don’t want to be alone tonight.” She noticed he was thinking about her words without looking at her. “I’m sorry I promise I won’t try and kiss you again. I’m just afraid...” “Why?” He turned around. “I’m afraid if you walk out that door, I might lose my best friend. Please let me prove to you that this doesn’t have to be complicated.” Misha looked at his feet. “Y/N, it’s already complicated, I kissed you back. I wanted to kiss you for so long, I would love nothing more than kissing you every time I’m with you.” - “Why didn’t you?” “You, me... us...The age difference...” He shook his head.

“ Age? That is what’s holding you back? I don’t care about age Mish.”

“Maybe not now, but in 10 or 20 years maybe. I’m not settling for less. I don’t want my kids to go through something like the divorce again.” Y/N was surprised “Neither do I, you think I will settle down for les? Misha soon I’m going to be 30, no husband no family...” But he didn’t let her finish “Family, another thing, I have kids, you want kids of your own, you said that before. I’m too old to have another baby. You want to get married, I’m not sure I want to, again.” - “So, basically you made a decision for me of what I want, without talking to me about it?” Y/N said frustrated and hurt. “Maybe I’m willing to give some things up, or we could find another solution.” “Y/N, I don’t want you to give up anything for me.” He hugged her “I talk to you soon.” And left through the door.

It had been two weeks, Y/N and Misha didn’t meet up or called each other. Y/N had texted him a few times, but his response was short and cold. Her calls stayed unanswered.

Y/N:” Are you still mad at me?”

Mish:”Never was.”

Y/N: ”Can we talk?”

Mish:”No time.”

Y/N: “Mish please, I miss you...”

Jensen saw the texted messages between them, he had noticed Misha being less happy off stage than he was the last couple of months. And whenever there was a question about Y/N he kept his mouth shut. “Dude, I’m serious, pick up your phone and call her!” - “And tell her what? I’m sorry I've been avoiding you?” - “For starters, yes. I don’t get it, you like her, she likes you. You both live in the same town, when you talk about her, we all see the Misha we’ve been missing the months before, during and after your divorce.” Jensen added. “There is more to it than liking each other.” Misha answered his friend. “Like, my kids, the age difference.” Jensen rolled his eyes. “Age difference... Stop pretending she is underaged, Misha she turned 28 last month. Y/N clearly doesn’t care, and your kids love her! Listen, all we want is for you to be happy.” He placed his hand on Misha’s shoulder. “And you are happy when you are with her.” But even then, he shakes his head no, he couldn’t believe Y/N loved him that much.

Y/N’s phone buzzed, like a teenager she ran towards it, a text from Jensen. Y/N sighs while opening the message.

Jay:“I tried to talk to him. He is stubborn.”

Y/N:” You know? What did he say?”

Jay:”He didn’t say much, but I’m not blind, he needs time to see that what he feels isn’t a bad thing.”

Y/N: ”I just what my friend back Jay. If he doesn’t want more that is fine for me.”

Jay:”I'm not giving up yet.”

Y/N: “Thanks Xx.”

Another week radio silent. Y/N had tried to call him a couple of times, but he never answered.

Misha was desperately trying to hold on to the thought that if he stayed away for long enough, she would find someone, fall in love and be happy. Then they could both move on. But Jensen’s words lingered in his mind, and he was right. His kids love Y/N, she made them laugh, played in the garden with them and even took them to the carnival when Misha had to work from home. She took care of him and his kids while he wasn’t his best.

After thinking and doubting he took is phone to call her. But instead, he saw a notification of TMZ first with the headline. “ Y/N Y/L/N/ single no more?” Misha felt his stomach turn, the first thing he saw was a picture of Y/N with Karl walking out of a restaurant, and other one laughing, having a few beers at a pub in London, her face close to his while he was saying something to her. She seemed to have a great time with him. He opened the article to read.

Last night Y/N Y/L/N (28) and Karl Urban (51) were spotted having a romantic time in downtown London.

Both actors were spotted at a restaurant and later in a pub having a few drinks clearly enjoying each other's company. An inside source told us that the young actress is enjoying her single life even though she is ready to settle down with the right man.

In her latest interview Y/N told LAD bible she didn’t care about age, is this her way of proving her words? Maybe she was referring to Karl all along!

The actress clearly likes her man slightly older, let us not forget she has been seen often with Misha Collins (49) in LA, although they confirmed their relationship to be strictly friendship, Urban and Y/L/N haven’t confirmed nor denied the rumours yet. But the chemistry between the two is inevitable, as you can see in the interview with both actors down below.

Misha closed his phone, feeling bad, he thought seeing her moving on would make it easier for him to let her go. But instead, he felt awful.

And to top it all off, Karl posted a week later a recap of the press tour they did, on Instagram. Misha scrolled through the pictures stopping when he saw one were Y/N and Karl were holding each other in a side hug, and another one, were Karl stood behind her, he had his arm around her neck, Y/N sticking her tongue out, they lifted their middle finger and winked at the camera. With the caption Love this city – Y/N had reacted ... Love these people.

When he clicked on to her page, she had also posted pictures with the cast. And another one with Karl, laughing extremely hard a little blurry and the “good picture” were they posed on the red carpet in front of the boys logo, with the caption: No one will ever be as entertained by us as us with a little red heart. Karl’s comment: Admit it... Life would be boring without me. Misha noticed all the reactions from fans how much they loved her, how cute they were. It was too much to see.

Y/N got back to LA, really glad she decided to go on press tour, she told Karl about what happened, and as a good friend he made sure she forgot about Misha every now and then. But once home her feelings came running back, she got tired of him ignoring her, if he really didn’t want to see or hear her again, he at least has to have the balls to tell her in her face. Today she had a quiet day, she took her car and drove up to Misha’s house, he wasn’t home, but she had time. Y/N waited at the front door, she could see his car parked outside on the driveway, so he wasn’t far away.

Misha returned all sweaty from his run, being surprised when he saw Y/N sitting on the steps. “What are you doing here?” He asked out of breath. “Well, seems like my best friend is hiding from me, though I come and find him.” She answered trying to sound happy. “I don’t think I’m the one hiding things.” He said walking inside. “What do you mean?” Y/N followed. “Checked TMZ yet?” He asked while handing her his phone with the article. “Seriously Mish? Is that why you have been avoiding me? First off, Karl is a friend, a good one trying to lift me up when you were acting all weird.” Y/N said, “And second how could I have been able to explain this or keep you up to date if you don’t answer your phone?! And since when do you believe TMZ?”

“I am so sorry Y/N, I feel like an idiot.” Misha said when he saw that Y/N’s reaction was honest, “Well, you should.” Y/N answered trying not to smile. “You were jealous, weren’t you?” He didn’t answer that question. “I’m sweaty, that’s what I am. And in about 15 minutes will West and Maison be here from school, and I still haven't showered or prepared food yet.” Y/N nodded. “Go take a shower, I’ll prepare a snack for them.” She took the towel slapping his ass with it playfully.

After the shower Misha came down in his sweatpants and t-shirt, hearing his kids arrive, they were thrilled to see her again. “Your dad is taking a shower, are pancakes ok?” Of course, he didn’t think they would say no to that! “So how was your day?” Y/N asked not noticing Misha was looking at them in the kitchen. Maison wanted to help Y/N, while West was telling her about his day. Like a pro Y/N multitasked her way through baking, listening and watching Maison not getting burned. It felt like a dream to him. Maybe she does belong here with us.

After a while Y/N noticed Misha watching, she winked at him which brought him back to earth. “Pancakes?” She asked while he greeted his kids who were already sitting at the table. After dinner Y/N helped with the dishes while the kids were doing their homework. “Well, I better get going.” She said while folding the towel. Before Misha could change his mind, he pulled her into a hug. “Thank you for today, I’m glad we talked.” Y/N wrapped her arms around him, answering his affection. “Thanks for listening to me.” Misha let go “You know, you don’t have to leave.” Y/N looked at him not fully understanding what he meant. “The kids need to get to bed soon, but maybe, if you like, we can watch a movie together like old times?” “I would love that.”

All four of them watched a show the kids loved to watch, and even though Maison wanted to act like a big grown girl around her father, she asked Y/N to cuddle on the couch. Misha noticed how his little girl placed her head on Y/N’s lap while she moved her fingers through Maison’s hair and still be focussed on the screen. Misha didn’t want to move his kids, but it was way past bedtime. “Come on guys, time to go to bed.” With a little whining they left, West gave Y/N a good night hug before following his dad up the stairs. “Good night, buddy.” He heard her say.

“Dad, I like it when Y/N is here.” West told him while he tucked him in. “She makes you happy. Misha smiled at his son not knowing how to react. Before he went down, he dropped by his daughter's room. “All set? Ready to go to bed?” She hummed agreeing. He kissed her good night and went down trying not to rush himself. “Oh, great your back.” Y/N said while walking out of the kitchen, holding a bowl of popcorn. “What movie were you thinking about?” “Comedy?” he asked her approval before taking his seat next to her. “Great!”

While watching the movie Misha noticed Y/N curling up against him and shiver. “Cold?” he asked her, “Yeah, actually a little.” “Wait.” he paused the movie “Let me grab a blanked.” throwing it over them. Not long after he noticed Y/N’s head lowering on his shoulder, she fell asleep. He moved his arm so that her head would rest on his chest. Y/N woke up startled.” Oh my god Mish, I’m so sorry.” She said embarrassed. “Come here.” He still pulled her in close, kissing the temple of her head, moving his hand over her shoulder and arm. His touch felt good, soft yet strong, but most of all safe. Y/N could hear his heart beating faster, she looked up at him locking eyes with his soft blue gaze. Slowly Misha closed the space between them, holding her cheek with one hand, his lips finding hers. He gave them a soft peck, looking for any hesitation from her. Y/N’s eyes had this little glister in them. She kissed him back with the same softness, she smiled moving a little closer, placing her head back on to his chest, so that they both sat comfortably watching the movie. The last thing she wants was to rush things, scaring Misha away again.

Y/N felt Misha’s hand slip under the blanket, stroking her side and hip, his thumb accidently touching the side of her breast a few times. She looked up at him, it was clearly not his intention, he was still focussed on the tv. But little did he know that those small touches made her burn up. All she wanted was more of his hands over her, kissing those perfect lips. So, to control herself she buried her face a little more in his shirt, letting out a deep breath. Misha noticed her hand clenching the fabric of his shirt, it took him a second to realise what he was doing, so he held his hand still. But hearing her deep breaths turned him more on than he would have thought.

He couldn’t focus anymore, he started to daydream about her moans if he would actually touch her. So, he became a little bolder and stroke the side of her breast again, this time watching her reaction while kissing her head. Y/N looked up again to see his blue eyes darkened this time with lust. He kissed her lips with more passion, his tongue asking permission to enter her mouth. Her tongue following his. And when she pulled back for air, he lifted her on his lap. Her body on his, her knees straddling him but still covered under the warmth of the blanked. His hands moved to her back crawling under her shirt meeting her soft skin.

Her hands lingered on his shoulders, moving one slowly up his neck into his hair, without losing touch of the kisses they shared. Misha’s hand moved down to her bottom, kneading over her jeans making her whimper silently. His lips found their way to her neck, Y/N tilted her head giving him all the space to kiss and softly nip. Misha felt like a teen again, one who was so full of hormones and love drunk making out with his girl in the back of his car. But fully aware he was at home, giving in to the pleasures he wanted to taste all those months ago. And it felt good, even the smallest touch.

Y/N felt his erection growing and even though she was desperately trying not to move to fast, to wait for his lead she couldn’t help but grind against his hips, she wanted more friction. Misha growled against her ear holding her hips, pushing her closer asking her with his touch to do it again. So, she did, Y/N started to move slowly, both could hear their breaths getting heavier, filling the room with soft moans that were silenced with their kisses. Misha’s hands moved up over her thighs to her shirt, pulling it over her head, leaving his hands on her breast, kneading softly. He looked at her through his lashed while he kissed them all over, before his hand undid her bra. He looked at her like a man possessed, his lips and tongue found her hardened nipple, toying her with his other hand still kneading her right breast.

“Oh Mish....” She moaned holding his head, her fingers twisted in his hair. Y/N moved her hand down over his body, moving it in between them, finding his erection palming it over his trainers. Misha let go of her breast while he moaned against her. “Fuck...” He breathed out. Y/N let herself slip in between his legs, pulling his pants and underwear down. Her hands moved back up over his thighs, wrapping her hand around the shaft pumping slow, while her lips left kisses around his pelvis. Making him moan and growl her name, wanting to feel more of her. Y/N first kissed the tip of his dick, tasting his precum on her lips. She slowly lowered her head over him licking the tip. Misha’s breath hitched feeling her warm lips working their way down.

After she made him moan her name more than a few times she got up. Undressed in front of him, she would see the fire in his eyes burn. Knowing that if he wasn’t so turned on, he would feel embarrassed to stare at her, but his eyes took in every inch of her body while taking of his own shirt. Their naked bodies found each other again, Y/N again straddling his hips, but before she could lower herself on him, he stroked his hands between her thighs, feeling her wetness on her upper thigh close to her slit. He hummed delighted to know he cost it. His fingers toying her, making her head fall back, he entered her, first one finger then two slowly pumping, curling to find that one spot that would drive her crazy, she couldn’t help but to move her hips with him in rhythm, making him touch take soft spot inside her. “Oh Misha... although this feels.... Oh, so good... I need... More.” She managed to say between moans and breaths.

Misha let go of her, Y/N grinded against him a few more times, making sure his dick was coated before entering her. He lined himself up against her, locking eyes. He wanted to see her face while he bottomed out. “So beautiful.” He said while watching her expression. Kissing her collarbone while she slowly started to move up and down. She placed her hands behind him on the couch while his hands were guiding her, kneading the flesh of her bottom. Their lips not leaving each other's. The air was filled with moans and the sound of their bodies moving together.

Misha noticed the coil in his stomach building, he turned her around, and placed her on her back. Hovering above her naked body, taking her wrists in his hand moving them above her head. Kissing her neck again before re-entering her soaking core. Y/N could feel his trusts getting harder, stroking along that one spot inside. Not long after she started to tighten around his dick, moaning and whining his name is his ear, trying to keep quiet, unable to hold him close to her. Misha thrusted through her orgasm trying to make it last as long as possible. But he felt his own coming up again faster than anticipated he came inside her with one last thrust.

Misha lifted himself a little, letting go of her wrists, but still hovering over her. Softy and passioned kissing her lips before locking eyes with her. Neither said a word but enjoyed each other’s touch and company. “Mish... as much as I love cuddling with you. I really need to use the bathroom now.” Y/N said a little embarrassed. “Oh yeah sure, you know where it is right?” Y/N got quickly up put on her panties and a shirt to refresh herself, when she came back Misha had already put on his pants. He was folding the blanket. “I was thinking we best head upstairs, the bed lays better.” He said while walking up to her giving Y/N a kiss. She hummed “Well and I don’t want to fall asleep here and getting waked by the kids in the morning... seeing me half naked.” She laughed

Once in bed Misha held Y/N in his arms. “Please tell me you won’t regret this.” Y/N asked him, hoping this was the start of something and not a one-time thing. “I’ve been thinking about you, us for so long now, letting you close to me, was a calculated move.” He kissed her head letting out a chuckle. “But I had no idea it would get so hot and heavy so quick.” They both started laughing trying to stay quiet, not to wake the kids. “But no, I won’t regret this.”

“Good because I’m not planning on letting you run off again.” She said.

If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

#fanfic #fluff #smut #spn #supernatural #misha collins #spn smut #spnedit #lovers #y/n #x reader #jensen ackles #karl urban #the boys amazon

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deanoheartspie · 2 years ago

Text

SOMETHING RED 4

Pairings: Reader x Soldier Boy (Ben)

Warnings: fluff, angst.

Summary: you knew soldier boy since you were young until the man had gotten tested he had become a whole different person. So when he comes back after Crimson and other supes send him away, it makes him angry

A/n: Sorry for the late update!

“Why do I have to wear a suit?” you ask with a frown, picking at the tight gold and white super suit and tugging it off your ass when you hear a low won't whistle. You didn't understand why you had to pretend to be starlight.

“Well look what we have here, is it my birthday or something,” Ben says with a shit-eating grin on his face as he grabs your waist spinning you around.

You huff with a cute pout on your face, which always seemed to make Ben fold no matter how mad or upset he was.

“Don't look at me with that face sweetheart” He bites down on his lip, looking at you like you were the most gorgeous woman in the whole world. If only he had said it more in the past maybe you'd believe it.

Glancing away, you walk towards Butcher with your arms crossed. “They know who I am, they aren't stupid,” you grumbled out, pissed off that you were going to be used as bait.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Once Ben had found out the reason you were wearing the super suit, he didn't like the sound of it. As much of a dick he was, he did have his overprotective moments which you had to admit... You kinda loved it showed he cared.

“Y/n... Y/n. I don't want you doing this.” Soldier boy grabbed your arm, tugging you back. The audacity of this man to think he gets to tell you what you can and cannot do.

So why you might continue this you might be asking? Petty. Ben hated pettiness and stubbornness, especially from you.

“Quit it. I'll be fine, Soldier boy~” You sang out, as you walked through the allys, not understanding why the man even bothered following he didn't care before so why now?

“You look like a hooker in a costume, am I supposed to just leave you here to be murdered by this cheap blonde knock-off me?” Without another word, the next thing you knew you were being tossed over a shoulder.

“We are getting you food and we'll figure out another plan.” He stated not allowing you to protest, oh boy... Butcher is gonna be pissed

“Can we at least get some normal clothes then? Wait! We can get you new clothes too, we both know how much you love to shop” you smirk, as you tease him skipping off to a store. Honestly, you were excited to see him in a nice outfit rather than the super suit or a baseball jersey even though he looked hot in both.

With racks and Racks of clothing, Ben looked stressed as ever rubbing his temple insulting shirts that men nowadays we're and how they were such pussys and blah blah.

Luckily enough, you were able to find something that suited dinner. A nice brown jacket with a white button-up, even though there were a few complaints Ben had to admit he cleaned up nice.

“Your turn sweet cheeks. Unless you want to wear that all night, I can't complain I get a nice view of your a-” You immediately cut him off, as the store owner was judging you and him from the moment the both of you stepped in.

Ben looked over seeing the old greyish-hard woman, sure he liked older women since he'd be around the same age as them. Oddly enough though, he didn't understand why you didn't age...yet his attraction for you never left.

He found a lacy black long skirt with long sleeved shirt so you wouldn't get cold. “You look beautiful...”

°•••••••••••••••••°

Dinner. Laughing. Olds times.

It was weird, the way Ben tossed his head back while he laughed and mentioned old memories and how great life was when they were young with no worries... It was like the old part of him was still there and you wanted to cling to it just for a little while longer.

Holding hands, while walking through the streets the nice cold breeze hitting your face thankfully hiding your blush.

Stupidly enough you mention Crimson... His breath hitches and he pulls away from you.

“Ben... I'm sorry I didn't mean to bring it up”

Before you knew it you were being tossed onto a wall, hitting your head on the brick wall. You see what you can muster out Ben being surrounded by cars, and Butcher's voice...

Trying your best to keep your eyes open... You just couldn't anymore.

“Y/n! Y/n!!”

•••••••••••••••••••••••

Tag list: @kat-nee @globetrotter28 @hobby27

#jensen ackles #soldier boy x reader #the boys #soldier boy x female reader #dean winchester #supernatural #dean x reader #dean x y/n #soldier boy #soldier boy imagine #soldier boy oneshot #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy smut

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5eraphim · 2 years ago

Note

The vampire Demo Engie, Heavy, and Medic with a vampire hunter s/o was so good! You wrote it so well and like I imagined 🥰🥰🥰 could I politely ask u to finish with vampire Sniper, Spy, and Scout? Thank you so much ur work literally rots my brain 🥰🥰🥰🥰

Im so glad you enjoyed- it was so fun to write🌻🥺 for the sake of consistency, i decided to keep the reader gender neutral, also i apologize that Scout and Sniper's sections are kinda short, Sniper's always been weirdly hard for me to write tbh, but i really hope he feels "in character" enough, and I could only come up with a few ideas for vampire Scout- but that aside, thank you for the request!

LINK TO PART 1 🦇🗡️⚰️

Characters: Scout 🐇, Sniper 🦘, and Spy 🐍

Rating: M (MINORS DNI, THIS ISN'T FOR YOU)

Content Warnings: yandere, smut, exophilia, mind break, toxic relationship, hypnosis, primal kink, kidnapping/captivity, possessive behavior, stalking, bad ending, graphic depiction of gore (all of them really- but Spy's is probably the worst RIP)

Word Count: 4.4k

MASTER LIST

TIP JAR

(Song Inspo- Hunter's Moon, Ghost)

Scout, the Lost Boy

If there were any of the vampire mercenaries who would outright try to antagonize vampire hunters for the thrill of it, Scout would be the prime suspect. As a vampire, Scout would likely live much like the Lost Boys. Sleep all day, party all night; as far as he cares, the immortality granted to him is nothing but endless time to party and enjoy his eternal youth. So what if some hunters wanted to join the party? It's not like Scout was afraid they could really put an end to his fun.

Trying to poach Scout would be a more laborious challenge than you initially thought. On the outside, he might not look like he could put up much of a fight compared to the older vampires, the other mercs. While this may be true, Scout is far from helpless, and even if he's content to spend eternity partying and having a good time, he can be merciless like any creature of the night.

Scout has a territory he's claimed, a little spot his family once lived he holds onto. It's not much to outsiders, but it's sentimental to him, and Scout fights hard to maintain it. Though that doesn't mean he wants to stay in the same place forever and sees this more as a "home base" rather than a permanent estate. He likes to keep active and is also frequently on the move, endlessly looking for his next high, the next part, or his next meal; because of this, Scout's hard to predict, and trying to track him down and get a hit on him won't be easy.

While he's the youngest of the vampires, he's pretty social and likely heard about you butchering other vampires he knew before you decided to start hunting him. He might even begin to stay on the lookout for you to see if he can spot you before you catch him first. There's a decent chance he's never actually killed a vampire hunter, and he can't help but hope you'll be his first. Strangely the idea of being the one to end your life gives him just as much grief as exhilaration.

Vampires and hunters come and go quickly, given the bloody and violent nature of their lives, but even without really meeting you, Scout can't help but feel attached, and he can't stop wondering why he's so scared to think about you leaving without a trace like so many other hunters before. When you eventually decide to start pursuing him, Scout's more than excited to finally meet you in person, much to your confusion. A little nervous, but in a good way, like the feeling of reaching the top of a roller coaster before the rapid descent.

His excitement to meet you goes without saying, but maybe he also feels flattered to think you consider him dangerous enough to try and hunt down. Feeling like he's finally one of the "big bad" vampires now that hunters are going after him. Before the encounter, he'd been extra savage in the night, leaving bloody carcasses within the perimeter of his dwelling, hoping they would help lead you closer to him.

You knew he was arrogant and a show off from what you'd heard from other hunters. So when he came bounding over to you, effortlessly dodging your projectiles and bullets, telling you how excited he was to finally meet you after all this time, you were speechless. You saw him as nothing but a little easy target practice, a lightweight; you had no idea he'd become obsessed with you like this. Before now, you never thought of yourself as a professional-tier hunter, and the idea other vampires could pass your information along amongst themselves made you want to take out Scout all the more.

But as mentioned before, he's not so easy to take out, and the more time you spend fighting, you can't help but wonder if it's all worth it after all. The relationship after this would be a bizarre hunter-and-prey role reversal; the hunter, you, now forced to try and hide and escape from the vampire. However, with Scout's now supernaturally boosted speed and enhanced senses, you're further out of your depths than expected. The depth of the situation only really sinks in when you try to abort your hunt and flee his territory. Scout learned your hunting schedule quickly, immediately noticing when you didn't show up to your usual spot near his turf to hunt.

It wouldn't take long for Scout to begin to assume the worst here, thinking he was no longer good enough for you, thinking you'd run off to replace him with some other vampire. He couldn't bear the thought of it.

Once he managed to find you, Scout made himself known. You knew better than to let him get any closer. Scout's attacks were most effective when he could get right up in your face, so you cleared the area as fast as possible, thinking you narrowly managed to escape. Only to discover your home's shattered windows and a raw human heart on your doorstep, topped with a messily scrawled note letting you know exactly who your "surprise" visitor was. As well as warning you against going after any other vampires.

From then on, you were forced to constantly watch your back when stepping out of the house, afraid he could be hiding around the corner at any time, waiting to rush you by surprise. He might not be able to get in without being invited, but Scout would force you to live in endless paranoia. He was drawing closer only moments away from striking you again. And you both knew you couldn't hide forever.

Sniper, the Apex Predator

If Scout was a tricky vampire to hunt down because of his unpredictable nature and evasiveness, Sniper was even harder to hunt, though for entirely different reasons. Unlike the loudmouthed speedster, Sniper was an altogether different breed. He managed to elude hunters and stay on the prowl for his next kill by hunting from the shadows. Able to disappear without a trace on command, invisible to any other human or vampire. Sniper only went out in the dead of night and remained out of sight until the second he was ready to pounce, attacking with a predator's decisiveness ending the life of another in a matter of seconds.

To call him territorial would be an understatement. Sniper's land was his alone, and he didn't allow any to trespass. His dwelling held such a reputation for death most thought the ground itself was simply cursed; the idea of an individual, supernatural or not, was inconceivable.

Sniper genuinely was one of those once-in-a-lifetime apex predators. Able to extinguish the life of another with one bite, an attack so silent and sudden none of his prey lived to tell the tale. He was nothing less than the stuff of legends. A kind of beast with a legendary legacy of bloodshed, a traceless reputation, and a propensity for leaving behind no living witnesses. The idea of such a mythic vampire continuing to walk the face of the Earth on this day was too much for most to believe. No one knew how old Sniper was as a vampire, but no one knew much of anything about him, and he liked it that way. You must have been looking for a lot of trouble the day you decided to try and hunt him down.

Sniper might have been just an urban legend to some, but even if he wasn't precisely "believed in" by modern humans, people knew to stay away from his hunting grounds because of the superstition, the supposed "bad luck" striking all who stepped foot there. He was so used to having the hunting ground all to himself that the idea of another hunter out that night stalking him from behind never even crossed his mind. He couldn't remember the last time anyone managed to go undetected by him; if you were to handle such a feat, he'd never seen anything like that before. Sniper might have sensed something was a bit off that night but wouldn't investigate the area. His intuition didn't warn him of a human, and he reasoned if something did manage to get close, he would know by now. So when he caught you out of the corner of his eye, he froze for just a second. But just long enough for you to flee, disappearing from his land in the blink of an eye without a trace.

The following night, he'd be on high alert, wondering if you would return. He felt restless, Sniper was addicted to the isolation in a way, but you changed that, and he no longer felt at rest. Like you altered his home in a way he couldn't quite understand. Sniper couldn't tell if he never wanted you to step foot on his land again or if he needed you back right away to fix what you disrupted. He would wonder why you didn't return because you had your own land to protect and were a recluse like himself. Odd behavior for a human, but you evidently weren't quite a "regular human" yourself.

Surprisingly, Sniper would be more unnerved, almost curious rather than angry or hostile with you. Despite the brevity of the encounter, you still managed to get closer than any other living thing, and you seemed to awaken his need for companionship, his desire which lay dormant for so long and memories of life with family-other living intelligent creatures he thought he'd forgotten.

He could tell you were something like himself, something he'd felt for no prey before. A hunter, a slaughterer, yet He couldn't understand why you didn't rush him for the kill that night? The idea that you somehow were taken by him and spared him because of some illogical attraction made him blush for a moment before he forced himself to be realistic. You must've heard stories of how he could end the life of another in seconds, and he couldn't ignore the irritating disappointment as he realized you were likely only interested in saving yourself.

An eternity of looking over his shoulder, protecting his homeland, awaiting the moment other hunters would foolishly come along and try to sink their claws or teeth into him was all he knew for so long. Could he be blamed for hoping it didn't have to be like this forever? The only positive memories Sniper managed to hold on to despite how long ago it had been of the family he once knew a lifetime ago; it couldn't be a coincidence you awakened these memories. He needed you back, and he needed it before some other predator, someone below his caliber, came along and took you from him.

Unlike all the other vampires, he wouldn't be captivated by your humanity or the life within you; Sniper sees you as something different entirely. Something so like himself, you weren't suited to being human; if he could turn you into a vampire, he could give you the life you deserved, life as his companion. He would protect you forever if only you would let him.

While you weren't technically a monster like he was, you were still a murderer, an animal, and it was fate that brought the two of you together. His destiny is to turn you into a creature of the night, and yours to remain by his side until the end of time. He didn't usually step foot on his land, but he did so with a clear mission in mind the night he set out to track you down.

A sniper would stalk you, observing from afar, remaining invisible, undetectable while watching, doing everything in his power to keep his emotions from revealing himself. Sniper attached this image of a better future to you, becoming fixated, thinking you were meant to be his mate. What was the point of being the king of the land without someone to rule over and protect? Vampires didn't go through the circle of life like humans as they didn't age, Sniper would believe his time as a lone wolf was ending, and you were meant to become his mate, metamorphosing his lonely life into something better than before.

Spy, the Mastermind

It wasn't often a hunter would make the mistake of trying to hunt down and kill a vampire as powerful as Spy. While he might not have a reputation for lethality like Sniper, Spy was endowed with different abilities upon becoming a creature of the night, yet certainly not abilities any less powerful. Spy's gifts were almost all psychologically fueled as a vampire, and while his physical skills weren't too humble either, he hardly needed to use physical brawn when killing. Spy could make you see things, take control of your mind, and force himself inside your consciousness until you were nothing but a backseat passenger in your own body. Depending on the target, he could get a peak into their memories and use them to show the victim their greatest fear; nothing made a meal more appetizing to Spy than adrenaline and fear in the blood before he feasted.

Sometimes, victims weren't even fortunate enough to hold onto any self-awareness when he manipulated their minds. When he's really feeling spiteful, he will pick on the unlucky souls of those who happen to cross his path, getting inside of their minds and compelling them to carry out his will, manipulating their bodies like a puppet on strings. No one knows what happens to the victim's mind after Spy takes complete control, but the morbid carcasses on the sidewalks discovered the following day covered in gore keep most from wanting to know more.

If he wanted to, Spy could kill off his prey in seconds, keep his hands clean and remain undetectable. And when it came to no menial everyday feeding, this would sometimes be his method of execution; he might be on the thinner side, but given his immense power, he required a great deal of blood to sustain himself and couldn't go long without human's blood before weakness began to set in. But he was too proud and merciless a killer to deny himself a bloody spectacle every now and then.

Spy resented humans and any vampire he deemed weaker than himself, as in virtually all of them. He saw them as the kind of beings which clung to the coattails of stronger predators to stay alive, nothing but leeches and parasites before lions such as himself. He was relentlessly diligent and efficient when killing off hunters and wanted their deaths to be a mortifying ordeal.

Spy would leave his victims not only horrifically gored and splattered to stain the streets for days to come, but he would cruelly torment his prey by leaving their corpses in such a fashion the cause of death often appeared to be suicide or accident. As though they and their blood weren't even edible to him, good to mix with the dirt in the streets and nothing more. Only the most skilled hunters could parse through the carnage and viscera to identify his handiwork, a task far too grim for most. But not for you, though you had a greater motive to study and track Spy than most.

You were exactly the type of prey Spy found to be the least appetizing. You weren't a highborn socialite; you didn't have any kind of generational wealth or inheritance, possessing little more than the clothes on your back. Even to other humans, your type wasn't paid much attention, and neither were their corpses left in the streets in pools of their own blood, flies, and maggots already riddling the bodies. But even though you lacked money or culture, you made up for it with loyalty and grit, and you weren't about to sit by and let this monster get away with taking the lives of those you loved.

Even if Spy didn't know who you were or that it was your friend's blood he painted the streets with, you were patient, and your vendetta gave you all the focus you needed to study him like a hawk. To remain vigilant until you're ready to go in for the kill and fight to avenge all the lives of the "scum of the streets" taken by the vile monster.

Knowing his attacks were psychologically centered, you honed your defenses the best you could, making your mind impenetrable. Snatching up every protective item you could use to get any possible advantage in the fight. By now, you were motivated by your hatred for Spy, he was a petty coward, fighting from a distance, lurking in the night, finding it more rewarding to watch his victims hurt themselves than shed their blood with his own hands, but you didn't dare underestimate him.

When you confronted him for the first time, he was taken back to discover he couldn't actually manage to get inside your head as he often could. You trained with humans you knew to be psychically adept, and though you were technically powerless, your training was about to pay off, giving you a shield from his prime mode of offense. Because of this strategy, the fight was painfully prolonged, you were better defended than any other, but your attack was far from as potent. As a result, neither your nor Spy's offensive attacks did much good against the other and were forced to exchange blows, waiting to see whose stamina would give out first.

Likely the looming threat of the rising sun would cause Spy to force himself to retreat, using the last of his strength to escape and recoup his stamina until he was ready to take you on again. While your vendetta gave you the power to fight, Spy fought back primarily because of his bruised ego. Who were you to come and challenge him like this? Some low-born nobody is trying to make a mockery of him! Someone needed to put you in your place, and Spy knew he needed to be the one to do it. If you thought you were so tough to put up a fight against a real vampire, he would need to make your fear overtake your hatred. While Spy couldn't get inside your head as he could with most prey, he could still easily detect your loathing, and for a patient such as yourself, he couldn't help but find it quite enticing. Perhaps he could work up an appetite for a street rat like you after all.

The next time the two of you met, you couldn't ignore how he clung to the shadows far tighter than before. Spy sulked just out of sight and maneuvered silently rather than facing your head, you forced yourself to ignore the sound of his voice inside your head, but now that you couldn't hear it, you felt far less prepared. Moments when you could listen to his voice, it sounded nothing like before; his gruff, confident voice softened into an almost gentle purr, sounding almost lullaby-like rather than hypnotically attractive.

He would croon to you, "I can fight you like this forever; you know your defeat is guaranteed; why don't you be a good little human and sit still while I slit your throat? I can give you such a painless, swift death. Doesn't that sound good?"

Hearing him uncharacteristically faking compassion felt like a calculated attack you couldn't decipher. Nevertheless, you reminded yourself not to listen but to keep your face up, hand close to the level of your eye, ready to strike. Though at moments like this, when you could feel all your muscles almost painfully strained, prepared to attack, the silence felt all the worse. The silence was harder to deal with, but you knew it was a thousand times better than letting him get inside your head.

But Spy was ready to up the ante. Earlier, he remained out of sight, silent and like a ghost, but he grew bolder, making fleeting contact with you while your back was turned. Not enough to actually hurt you, but enough to send your paranoia through the roof.

His fingers brushed up against the back of your knee; you whipped around but saw nothing there, only to feel your heart sink and skin crawl as you felt his hands draw higher, no matter how you tried to wriggle free and turn to see behind you, he was faster.

A palm to the side of your thigh, his knuckle skimming the curve of your waist, you could even swear you felt breath against the back of your neck, altogether invasively close yet still out of sight. The juxtaposition made you whimper in fear. Your despair was rising considerably as you caught your reflection through the glass of a window only to see no one behind and a fear you hardly recognized etched across your own face.

You felt so small, alone, and terrified, like nothing more than a child wandering out at night, afraid the boogeyman was about to get you. But his attacks were relentless; while you were stable enough to keep him from controlling your mind, he tortured you, showing you all the dead bodies of your friends slaughtered before now, their final screams echoing through the silent streets. The sound of his wicked laughter around seemingly every corner as you ran in circles. No matter how hard you mentally screamed, none of it was real; the fear took control all the same.

Out of the corner of your eye, you passed a corpse, identical to yourself, under a street light, Spy standing motionless over the carnage. You couldn't help but freeze up, unable to look away from the sight before you, retching at the view. Your body was twisted grotesquely, blood leaking from deep gashes, hunks of skin separated from the rest of you, some detached entirely, yet some clung to your mangled corpse stubbornly. Your clothes were mostly torn off, hanging off your body in ribbons, dampened by your blood, and unable to conceal the entrails which peaked through the holes in your flesh and clothes. All the while, Spy merely stared back at you, smiling, bearing his fearsomely sharp teeth, his hands, and the bottom of his face coated in your blood which caught the light of the streetlamp.

He extended a land in your direction, as cordially as a dancer inviting his partner to a pas de deux, bowing slightly as he beckoned you closer, arm still outstretched, but the sight of him drawing closer, no matter how subtly, was precisely what you needed to force your legs to work again and tear yourself away from the view before you.

Before, you were so blinded by hatred having every confidence it was enough to carry you through the fight, but as you tore through the dark alleyways, you felt utterly helpless. You didn't even consider falling victim to your own fear, but after a few more agonizing hours of this cat-and-mouse game, you could fight no longer and were about to flee. Exactly as Spy planned.

There was nothing in your mind but fear, and it was all too easy for Spy to corner you, pinning you to a wall, your wrists in his, forced with crushing strength to remain fixed in place to the wall behind. Spy regarded the sight before him with malicious pride, the once fearsome, resilient vampire hunter shaking as you wept, "Don't hurt me, I don't want to die! Please don't kill me!" Tears rolled down your cheeks through your squeezed-shut eyes, your breath choppy, broken up by coughs and messy sobs. Yet, despite everything, Spy felt his heart throb slightly as he looked at you, so helpless and powerless, your fear more delectable than anything he'd encountered before tonight.

Spy released your wrists, and you instantly hugged yourself tightly, not daring to try and run, and for just a moment, he allowed you to catch your breath, enjoying your cute whimpers and struggling to regulate your frantic breathing. Then, he took your face in his palms, forcing you to look into the depths of his eyes, thumbs wiping away a few tears as he worked his hypnotic charm against your mind.

"You're all right now, don't cry. No one will hurt you, not while I'm here. You're safe, so long as you obey me, understand? You've been out all alone all night. Are you ready to come home, pet?"

At some point, your eyes drifted from his eyes to his lips as he spoke, your anxieties lifting as you could think of nothing but the sound of his voice, nodding in agreement as you listened intently to everything he said. Allowing your mind to go blank, unable to think of anything but the man before you. All you needed to do was obey. Obedience would keep you safe, or rather he would keep you safe. Nothing in the world mattered other than following Spy home.

Spy knew he couldn't let you go after you managed to get away once before, and even if he did kill you upon the second encounter, it was still too risky. For all he knew, you were out telling all your little low-born friends how you managed to escape, how to keep his mind games at bay, and strategizing to fight as a pack the next time around, and he couldn't risk others gathering the courage to rise up against him like that. Still, he knew death was no fitting end for someone like you; he had something more intimate in mind for your demise.

From that night on, you were kept in his estate, a possession forbidden from leaving the castle grounds. You wore a collar around your neck, and your mind kept in a totally broken state. Forced to demean yourself and live out the rest of your eternity as an immortal servant to the undead demon you once hated more than anything in life. You were kept like his own little lap dog to amuse himself as well as his guests. Spy felt so proud of you; now there was finally something to show all of the lowly human hunters who tried to fight off vampires how to find a way to be useful after all. All while you smiled and fed from the palm of his hand.

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survivalist-anon · 8 months ago

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Log 13: Concerning Wolves

Sitting in Jame's office is a strange mix between having a candid conversation with an older friend and being in trouble I'm the principal's office.

"Young lady, I trust you know that you're about to embark on a rather tumultuous experience right?", his drawl was a bit more serious than usual. "This ain't like the movies where you know how things will turn out either.....things can go so far down south right into hell now that the Astartes are involved."

Remembering what had happened the night before, the circumstances of Grandpa's murder, and what I've seen, I had no excuses to ignore the dangers. "Yeah, I can see...... listen if it's about Jeff....and Fjord tossing the patrol car, he was trying to protect me. I didn't ask him to throw the car at Jeff a-", Jame's eyebrows arched up.

"He did what?", apparently he hadn't been told about that.

"Fuk. Well anyway....Jeff pulled his gun on me thinking I was someone trying to attack on him or something and Fjord reacted to protect. He was just doing his duty.", I could tell James was already going to reiterate the responsibility. A heavy sigh slide through his lips once more.

"It's ok, however Fjord's going to have to be kept on a tight leash and control himself around folks or he's gonna have to stay home. Do you understand me?", his tone felt like there was something else underneath.

"Ok...I understand sir....also....how....long you've known about all of this?", I ask only of curiosity...if he wasn't willing to tell me than that fine too.

James relaxed his seriousness and mellowed abit, taking out a photo album. "They've been here far longer than I have kid, in fact Aldercon was my great grandfather's Astartes. Way back when folks had come here for free land. He told me that Aldercon had come from the sky, landed squarely in the heart of the Wyoming wilderness. He was shellshocked, covered head to toe in blood and dirt....I remember stories of my grandfather and Aldercon, as wild as the tales of Paul Bunyan and Babe. The two had become folk legends out in the ol' West."

He opened the book to show me the first page, it was a collection of aged, photos from the late 1800's. One of the pictures was of Jame's grandfather, he really did come from an American lineage of cowboys. He was far more rugged than James however... I glanced at the tall, stockier man in a much more humble looking uniform, same black fist on his pauldron too. "Holy shit, this can't be him...for one he's smiling, and second, I thought -", I could see James giving me a look that said 'but you didn't '.

I could see a tiny difference between him from this photo and now. I can tell his hair was darker, I can definitely see that thousand yard stare of a man who's seen war, and his armor was slightly different from the Marines back at the fort.

James turned the page, this was one was a genuine surprise. "Even your great grandfather, had one.", next to him was a man fresh off the boat from Eastern Europe, my Great grandfather, dad for some reason or another was reluctant to tell me his real name...he kept calling him "Big George", after the Butcher Boy George from Hungarian folk lore. Then right next to him, probably helped bag a rather ominous looking bear, was Sten. That white stripe on his head wasn't present, he didn't change as much as Aldercon. This picture was even more older than James's granddad's photo.

"You see Lorey, they've been around for a while now....lord knows for how long though.". He began to reminisce about the past.

The implications of these Marines having been around is giving my inner history buff a massive concern. "Well....it would be extremely stupid to try to bargain the fact I thought they joking, but I'm starting to see...I take it this will be more complicated?".

He looks up at me, "Yes ... because just like with basic folks like us, there are bad folks....that big black one your grandpa wasn't lucky with....is one of them...there seems to be at least five or so kinds out there based on my sources.....one of them is out there right now reeking havoc near highly populated campsites..... Aldercon told me Sten and Toke will be in disposed of for the next week.... meanwhile have Fjord keep a sharp nose out for that one...it's the fastest I've seen of these ones....I'm not too familiar with the either...so I'm giving you a very special assignment. I need you to put your research training to go use."

He handed me a small leather bound journal.

"Keep track of them, now....let's go have some grub.", he gets up from his chair and pats my shoulder.

I sat there feeling something complex in me, I'm....going to catalog them? I open the journal and I SWEAR James has been screwing with me at least to this point....this journal aestheticly looked a DnD character sheet of it focused on identifying and profiling. I place it in my inner jacket pocket. "What the shit....", I still wasn't too sure of my role in all of this....I could understand why now.

I'm just part of a lineage of....marine handlers? I don't know.....

As I leave the room, I see the Fjord was getting a lesson in paper football from one of the volunteers.

James takes the desk bell and rings it to call the attention of everyone in the center. "Ladies, Gentlemen and folks. I would like to make an announcement, as of now. Be on high alert for any unusual activity. Anything and everything in regards to disappearances of livestock and or people, property damage of unexplained or unusual nature, and any purported sightings of creatures of unknown origin...I.e...NOT BIG FOOT.... We'll have to be reported to me, Lorey and Ronnie for the time being.

I figured Ronnie also got the information, I look at him and he was a little more on edge than I was.

Fjord, definitely knew what this whole deal was about.

With a ringing of the doorbell to the nursery, Shelly has brought in some new little guests.

"Oh guys come and see! The babies are opening their eyes!", Shelly, Ronnie and I have been researching the local wolf packs in the area and monitoring their behavior. One of the females under our care have recently gave birth a few days ago.

I check in the box as Shelly laid it on the table, 5 beautiful cubs. In their state, they're roughly two to three weeks old. As helpless as human babies. "Fjord, would you like to see them?"

He was a little curious, he walked over to see the five cubs. ".... they're so....small.... they're...just wee little things...".

I could see he was trying to piece together something....not certain what, but from my perspective he was wonder struck.

As the cubs peeped and whimpered, as all cubs do, one has just opened it's eyes. Showing a pair of smokey blue irises. Than, Fjord did something I wasn't expecting him to do. He gently placed his hand next to one of the cubs. "... interesting...."

"Oh careful please, they're fragile little ones.", Shelly had all the right to worry. These may have been wild animals, but even young wild animals need to be treated carefully.

His finger alone dwarfed the cub, he was so still and so focused. By this point I completely lost in what could he be possibly thinking. A little cub wiggled right on top of his finger, using it as a heated pillow.

Fjord, let out a soft but eerily convincing howl, low enough that it could be considered an indoor voice, but it was very real. All the cubs let out their first howls, right there, all with varying skill and ability. But every single one had howled for the first time in their lives.

The room was quite, understandably, this was extremely weird for everyone.

Anderson decided to break the moment, "ugh...yeah I'd like to report something.".

"Anderson hush.", James to the rescue. "Fjord seems to understand these pups pretty well.

Shelly was mesmerized, "Oh my gosh, they all just did that at the same time. In all my years here, I have never seen something so amazing before."

I kept looking at Fjord, if I could read minds, this would be a great time to use it.

After a few hours of everyone enjoying their food, drink and few games. I sat with Fjord in the back of the room.

I sipped the last of my ginger ale, I still couldn't get his expression out of my mind. "Fjord. That thing you did with the howl ....can...you explain that to me?"

He sat there, lips wrapped around a rib bone. "Oh, that....it just...why are yeh wolves so small? I mean, I seen some out there in the forest and yonder ....I'm use to the wolves back home. Ferocious and mighty beasts, equivalent to Astartes! Strong enough to bare us and ride into battle. The cubs from thosd wolves are just a wee bit smaller than your fully grown ones. They're born with their teeth already out. These ones.... they're.... just wee bairns...".

I still didn't really get it. "Ugh, you mean...you're confused on why they're small.....?", I ask.

He takes out the bone from his mouth, "I mean....why do they remind me of mortal children? Small, helpless.... fragile...".

The tone he took had felt familiar, it was the same tone I used when my expectations would be challenged. "Wait...are you telling me you're disappointed by our wolves?", I satirically question him.

"No lass, it's just.....they remind me of....well....me... before I became an Astartes. The wee one ....it had blue eyes....I ....use to have the same eyes.", that last comment took me a little to figure out he was actually feeling.

It was self reflection. I just gave this guy a massive 'thing' to think about.

"well, all wolf pups have blue eyes when they're born, than as they grow, they change colors... mostly to yellow, amber or green.", looked to the room watching everyone enjoying themselves.

I suddenly felt him gently pull the side of my jaw, making me face him directly.

"Interesting....you have green eyes.", he bluntly stated.

I could feel my heart pounding by this point, we just both intensely looked into each other's eyes. I didn't know what it was, but something about the way he kept looking at me, just burning into my soul, felt strange...yet I liked it...it wasn't human either....

"ugh....this feels a little bit....um.", I didn't want to be mean about the situation by calling it 'cheesy' or 'corny'.

"----Hey you guys want t-", Jonas broke the tension for the both of us. "oooooh you two were?", she gave a cheeky grin.

"Jonas! You scared me.", again I had no idea what to say but hey it was something.

Fjord snapped out of his stare and looked to Jonas, "oh hey lass, to do what?"

Jonas chuckled a little, "it's almost time to close up the station and let the night crew in. We're heading down to the bar tonight actually. Why don't you bring your kegs too, Franky doesn't mind it."

I had completely forgotten about those two kegs, if Fjord sticks to the. He could save me a little of money.

"Ah I could use a drink, I've been parched for some for a little while lass.", he looks to me as a way of asking for approval by this point.

"ok fine.", I lean in to whisper in his ear. "Please behave yourself, Aldercon's orders."

He looks at me was a smoldering look, leans into my ear, "I'll do my best.".

I have no idea why, but the way he whispered into my ear shot the best feeling in the pit of my being.

End of log 13

@kit-williams @barn-anon @egrets-not-regrets

@gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @walking-natural-disaster

@squishyowl

@starfrost740

#space marine husbandry #warhammer 40k #space marine #survival log #space marines #space marine husbandry sentience #space wolves

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shurisu · 8 months ago

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Idk if you had already talk about this but i read your recent ask about the ship shurisu and I'm truly interested to read about the potential Shun and Alice had, individually and together, but with your POV

I've got so much to say about this topic that I don't know where to start.

To be honest, I liked them both the moment i first saw them but getting to know these characters what solidified my love .

For example Shun may seem like the classic silent guy at first glance but when you get to know him you will see that he's actually a heavily traumatized boy.Before his mother's death he still seemed to be a "demure" type, but you can also see he was happy for doing what he likes with his friends.After his mother passed away, he holds onto the only thing his mother left for him, Skyress, because he doesn't know how to deal with it.And because of how broken he is, he avoids bonding with people, which i belive, stems from his fear of losing them and going through the same feelings again.That's why he refused to be part of the team and even considered leaving almost half the season.S1 had done a fairly good job with his characterization, you could see that he was trying his best to be as stoic as possible but people who knows him(Dan,Skyress,his mother) or someone who can observe people really well(Alice) could see through him easily, afterall he was just a little boy.

If bakugan was targeted to an older audience and they gave importance to the plot , I believe we wouldn't get the Shun we had in NV and onwards. I get their biggest concern was to introduce more bakugans (=sell more toys) and to do that, they also had to introduce newer characters.Of course there's no problem with new characters but they just couldn't give them spotlight without butchering the older ones.Since the target audience is little boys,the girls got written off and Shun got to stay.But because of the reasons i said above, it costed him to his characterization being butchered, and he actually turned into the silent guy arche type.He used to be the best brawler in the world , and the moment he gets dethroned by Masquerade it was easily acceptable, because he is also one of the best (well,imo the best) brawlers ever existed. Of course, it would be no fun if he were to win all the time, and new characters need to shine as well, but BB Shun and NV onwards Shun are like different brawlers. BB Bakugan was more of battle of wits; through Shun and Masquerade, Dan learned that power alone wasn't enough and he needed to know how to yield it.It was also no surprise that the best brawlers were also the best strategists. But after 1st season, gimmicks like Bakugan traps were a huge cross out on everything S1 standed for.So looking back at Shun,what happens to a character if you took away the area he shines the most?If we got to see his evolution both as a brawler&as a character,I believe he would contribute greatly to the show,even more than he did.

Ooh boy it already got this long, and I didn't even get to mention Alice.I believe just like Shun, Alice is also a MC worthy character. Of course whole "Masquerade" situation gives her some extra points.I am not a writer but i can only think of countless scenarios a writer could benefit from a character with split personality; the deeds she's done unwillingly haunting her,and eventually facing herself and healing period.But if I had to talk about Bakugan only, my thoughts on her and Shun are similar since both of them were quite alike as brawlers.Alice got to short end of the stick in two matters though, for reasons:

1) She's a girl in a shounen anime (a genre which is very rare for a woman to get to shine, or even be useful)

2)She would be OP as a brawler, so including her would require more complex writing:

Their decision was to conclude her character arc after she became one with Masquerade.We know that she was already brilliant as a strategist and now we see that she's far more confident as a brawler, so that would be basically Masquerade being back in his original appearance and i don't think there's anything should be holding back her at that state.Even today most of people rightfully don't accept how she's lost in her NV battle, because of how great brawler Alice/Masquerade is and how it didn't make any sense plot wise.She's imo even more MC worthy character now and still could grow as a character but as i said before,the creators were focused more on commercial success instead.

So long story short, Shun and Alice could've been doing much better if Bakugan didn't change so drastically (as in game logic) , because they would be needed more.And them being active would probably helped a lot to their team mates as well since they are both supposedly the "demure" and "observant" members of the team which really helped in group dynamics, understanding what kind of rival they're against and how should they approach them.

If we were lucky enough and actually got to see them end up together, i believe they would have a solid relationship. Their personalities are compatible so they could evolve into a really beautiful couple.Since we know Shun is a man of few words and bottles up his emotions most of the time, Alice would quickly become "that" person for him, the one who truly understands him the most. It's not even my hc, we already saw how she can see through him, but with them becoming a couple she would probably take that to another level and of course become the dearest person for him ever.Alice is also is healing from her past traumas, and being a loner just like Shun would make her understand him a lot more.But the difference is unlike Shun, she wants to bond with people more so being with her would change Shun on that matter .I can definitely see him being a lot more comfortable with expressing himself.Since he's also an observant person, he also would be the same with Alice as she's with him,so he would try his best at supporting her at anything.

To sum it up, they are striking me as a kind of couple who would be each other's rock and kind of couple who would bring the best in each other. Maybe that's why i always dreamed of them being MCs of their own show with a story about them.And I know that would be fire since they have some of the best fics of their own out there.

#bakugan #bakugan new vestroia #shun kazami #alice gehabich #masquerade #masquerade bakugan

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hughiecampbelle · 4 months ago

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The Boys Preference: Being Becca and Butchers Child

Requested: Firstly HAPPY BIRTHDAY GIRL!!!!!! ﾟ+.ヽ(≧▽≦)ﾉ.+ﾟ. Secondly, could u write like some headcanon about being Butcher's child (like who is two years older than Ryan) and how other members from the boys (+ maybe Soldier boy, cause of season 3 and how he would interact with them :3) - anon

A/N: Thank you my love!!! In the headcanon I made reader 10+ years older so they'd be at least 18 by the time they found out about Becca and Ryan, I hope you don't mind!! That way they can be part of The Boys and grow up with them, if that makes sense? I also had a very similar request of a headcanon so I'm basing it off that so there's some background :) I love this request!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Headcanon Pt. 1 / Headcanon Pt. 2

Butcher knew he couldn't take care of you. He was getting drunk every night, picking fights at bars, searching the city for your mom. Your perfect grades were slipping, you were getting into fights at school, you were emulating him. He knew how dangerous that was. First with your Aunt, then your Great Aunt, until you tracked him down all these years later. He still has a picture of you in his wallet, a baby picture that's creased and faded. You and Becca. You've grown up since then, though. And you're angry. He insist you go back to Judy, pretend you never saw or heard what you did, but you refuse. You want to pick a fight with him. You want to yell and scream and get out eight years worth of grief. He understands where you're coming from, he does. He never wanted to be like his father and yet, in so many ways, that's exactly who he was. Your relationship will never be what it is. That's not possible anymore. You have to learn to deal with one another now, in the present, instead of the happy kid you used to be, instead of the dad he used to be. It hurts you both to think about the past, who you could have been instead of who you are.

Hughie isn't really sure what to do with you. There's no doubt you're Butcher's kid. He's still relatively new to the team, so he just assumed this was something else Butcher hadn't shared with him. When he realizes no one knew about your existence, he's shocked. You, like your father, gravitate towards Hughie for reasons you can't put into words. You'll let him sit next to you when you're watching TV and maybe even talk to him if you're in the right mood. You don't shoot daggers at him like you try with everyone else. Similar to a cat, he's someone you can stand to be around. He comes to your defense a lot, especially when you stumble in drunk and pass out for the day. He's sure if any of them had been raised by Butcher, or at least the outside relatives, they would have turned out exactly like you. He can't blame you for being angry, or pissed, or hurt. He can see the hurt better than anyone else no matter how much you try to hide it. He thinks you just need some time and empathy to get straightened out. The least they can do is offer that, right?

Annie has no idea what to do with you. She tried smiling and talking to you, but you didn't want anything to do with her. She reminds you too much of your Aunt. She always said you should be happier, bubblier, that you were so smiley as a kid. You couldn't live in the past like her, with her. Too much had changed. Hughie assures her it's nothing against her, you're just getting used to things. She thinks it's sweet how you're attracted to Hughie. He's the only one you mildly respect and even, once in a blue moon, listens to. She doesn't take it too personally considering you're ready to rip your fathers head off. It could be a lot worse. Over time you see that Annie and Hughie are together and that definitely earns her some points. Annie can't imagine what your life must have looked like, all those years mourning your mother and father, all those years spent with relatives just doing their best. She understood why you were so angry all the time, so cagey and spiky. She doesn't hold it against you.

M.M. feels conflicted. Betrayed isn't the right word, but it's the closest thing he can come up with. He never 100% trusted Butcher. He was always going behind everyone's backs, doing what he wanted despite the good of the team, etc. He was destructive, combative, and spiteful. But, he thought they knew each other better than that. When he met you he couldn't deny you were Butcher's. Your mannerisms, the crazed look in your eye when you were upset, it all matched your father. He can't help but see you like how he sees Janine, even if you're much older: a victim of Vought. A generational curse. You're stubborn, and angry, and distant all because of what's been done to you, all because of Homelander. If your mom had been around, if Homelander had never done what he'd done, you'd still have your perfect family. He feels this need to protect you the same way he does with your father, even if you both fight him on it, even if you don't want or deserve it. He can't help it.

Frenchie doesn't trust you the same way he doesn't trust your father. He especially doesn't like that you and Kimiko are so close. She doesn't tell him anything about your conversations, knowing it would completely break your trust if she did. He believes Butcher would hide something as big and important as a child. He knows what your family can be like. Lying, drunken, selfish, vengeful. You're only a few of those things, not that he can tell the difference. You know Frenchie isn't your biggest fan, so you love messing with him, teasing him, rubbing it in his face that you and Kimiko are close. Similar to your father, Frenchie thinks this isn't the kind of place for you. You have no idea what you're getting yourself into. M.M. might feel fatherly towards you, but Frenchie sees you as a Mini Butcher, just another handful no one on the team can deal with. You yell and scream and fight and drink. That proves to him you're still a child despite it all.

Kimiko adores you. Despite the difference in circumstances, she sees a lot of herself in you. Ripped from your family, angry and hostile and doing everything in your power not to get hurt again. Besides Hughie, you'd warm up to her second. You're actually incredibly smart despite never applying yourself and pick up the signs pretty quickly. Whatever you can't sign, you write to her, wanting your conversations to stay secret. You show her the pictures of your mom that you kept all these years, telling her all about the good times you had before she disappeared. When you see Butcher you instantly grow hostile, angry all over again, and the person she saw, the person she was just talking to who was kind, and thoughtful, and smart totally disappears. When you blast your angry music she never minds. In fact, she quite likes it, adding it to her own playlist. She doesn't look at you like you need fixing or, worse, need to get out of here.

Bonus! Homelander always knew about you. Becca was more than willing to talk about you and Billy to co-workers. He even remembers taking that picture with you that one Christmas. He's kept an eye on you through the years, but you never seemed like the vengeful type. You never knew what happened after your father abandoned you. He does, however, use it as leverage against Becca. Remember the kid you left behind? Seems like she's got favorites. Becca agonizes over leaving you, but she was caught between a rock and a hard place. He uses you to keep her there, in her place. He gives her updates, usually to make her feel bad. You're kid drinks way too much, did you know that? Of course you didn't. He loves to tell her that Butcher abandoned you all those years ago. He loves to see that it absolutely kills her. He's not worried about you coming after him. You've got to work through your issues before you get to him and therapy for a lifetime couldn't get you an Butcher on the same page.

Bonus! Soldier Boy would actually get along with you. I think you'd have a Worst Dad Competition and though you're close, you definitely think you win. You two share a drink and you tell him all about your dear old dad. "No wonder you turned out like this." Ben says, pouring you more. Hughie urges you to slow down, but you have a high tolerance. Ben, to piss of Butcher, will always take your side in arguments and uses what you told him against him. "You dumped them off and never looked back. Now you're parenting?" Butcher absolutely hates it. You tell him about your mom, how much she loved you, how she was killed. You don't mention Ryan though, knowing Ben's go to answer would be to seek revenge. You have a lot of complicated feelings around your brother, but you still have a burning Hatred for Homelander. You make Ben promise he'll kill him. He does, even if it means killing his son. You two bond really fast. Neither Hughie nor Butcher trusts it or him, but you do.

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londonmaribelbridge · 9 months ago

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My Friend,

Nobody ever asks the butcher why he’s covered in blood. It’s easy to explain away a splotch here or there as a remnant of the job. A splatter across the throat not washed away is, of course, just a mistake. He simply must have missed a spot when bathing, or brushed a dirty hand across his face. It’s blood from a pig or cow; the color is the same after all. How would someone know; who would question? There is no reason for anyone to wonder about a myth that couldn’t possibly exist. Who would ever guess that the butcher was a vampire?

It’s good for all of us honestly, that I do the job I do. The humans around me never fear me beyond their own proclivity to ignore someone who kills for a living. They may have issues making eye contact with me when I have a cleaver in hand, but it is easy to understand why the chopping of flesh and breaking of bone could be off-putting. I have a conscience myself, contrary to popular belief. No vampire has the excuse to call themselves a mindless killer. We’re no different from you. We used to be you. Saying a vampire has only a mindless drive to kill, or is a sociopath, is ridiculous. Vampirism is not an excuse for having a fetish for death and blood. Yes we eat you, drink you really, but that doesn’t mean we have to love what we do. I know I have always had trouble with who I am, with who I’ve killed. I was human once, not unlike you, my dear reader. My story is not quite so sad though. After all, time makes everything easier, even death.

Michal, my father, was a butcher before me, a man who immigrated to this country from Poland many years before I was born. He relocated to New England, where many other Polish men and families had settled. Michal Erzak was in and of himself an uninteresting man, and when he moved to Chicopee, Massachusetts in 1893, the factory town paid him no mind. He charged fair prices and was a good man, so it was no surprise that he soon found himself prepared to take a wife. My mother, on the other hand, was not a fan of my father, for no real reason other than he existed. Elise Brenah was a bit of a snob, you see.

Not unlike many young working class women of her time, my mother had a job in a local factory. It was hard work over long hours, but as she had no family of her own, and was working only to support herself. She was self-sufficient in every way a woman of her time could be, and because of that she felt she should have a choice in her own love life. Nowadays we may very well agree that everyone should have that choice, but at the time people were less accepting of a woman with no ties to a man, not even a brother or distant cousin. My father was traditional, my mother was not, and therein was their issue. Whenever my mother had enough money to buy fresh meat she would go to my father, and my father would flirt or give her extra portions for her attentions. She consistently gave him no such concessions. Eventually, however, their little arguments began to turn more charming, as their small town bred close contact. Soon enough, the very traits they once found detestable in each other were sweetened with time. Within a year Elise Brenah became Elise Erzlak, and I was born in 1896 in a small town in New England.

I was a child of my time, raised in expectations of a good Catholic boy and a citizen of the town. As I grew older, I went from the only child to the eldest son, the one who would inherit my father’s trade. Both of my younger sisters on the other hand, learned from our mother. They were strong girls and good workers. I imagine that if they were still alive today they would be able to do so much with the opportunities that would be available to them. But, as it was in 1915, everyday was the same for us. We woke up at dawn, my mother and sisters cooked breakfast, and my father and I prepared fresh cuts of meat for the customers that day. It was a simple life, monotonous and repeating, but fulfilling. Our family lived well in those years; that is of course, until the world began to change.

The United States was shifting. Immigrants were pouring into the country as factory and industry blossomed in the country. It was a time of great wealth for many, as the American Dream was high in everyone’s minds. My family, settled for more than 20 years in the area, soon found that our Americanization made us a prime example for the incoming immigrants. We were who they wanted to be. My father never struggled to pay for anything and my mother could stay out of work and in the latest fashions. It was during that year, when I was only 19 years old, that I began to become very close with another young man in the area.

He was an odd boy, only a year my senior, but he always seemed much older. Bogdan Slevchenko had, like my father, come to the United States, both for hope of a better life and to flee Austro-Hungarian rule. Bogdan himself hailed from modern day Ukraine and had left Europe just in time to beat the start of World War 1. He didn’t like to talk about it much, and I thought that perhaps he might have left family behind when he fled his home country. His eyes always drifted unfocused when I dared to bring up the topic. Nevertheless, we became good friends as he settled down near me, happy to work in the factories for his wages.

Our schedules were very much the same, though we worked such different jobs. Both of us woke at the crack of dawn to start our days and ended late into the evening. However, it was always at night when he came to visit me, and together, the two of us would drift across town, occasionally finding our way into bars. Bogdan and I had the most wild of nights together, drinking and singing, rehashing childhood mishaps and other such stories along the way. When the evenings ended though, Bogdan seemed to always drunkenly slip away with a young lady underarm, and tell me he would call upon me soon. I never seemed to have the luck he did, it was as if he could stare into a girl’s eyes and she would melt for him.

This is where my story truly begins. You see, I was young and wild, high on life and adventure, but I wanted more. Bogdan was a charmer, older than his years, and devilishly handsome. So, one night when he left me, escorting another girl away for the evening, I followed him out into the alley behind the bar. It was then that I saw the most horrific and yet beautiful sight of my life. There in that darkened alley, Bogdan held his mouth to the girl’s throat, drinking from it. I could see the blood trickling down his mouth and chin, but the girl looked so happy, blissful even. If I were not so sure of my own eyes gazing upon the wound in her throat, I would have thought they were just another young couple caught in the throes of passion. This was not passion like I had ever seen before.

I stared transfixed at the both of them, lost in panic and fascination. Then, almost as soon as it had begun, Bogdan finished drinking. He leaned down against the girl’s ear, whispered something to her, and let her walk off into the night as if nothing happened. “I was wondering when you would finally come out to see me, my dear friend,” he had laughed out, turning to me. “There is a gift I have been so desperately waiting to give you, and I hope you will appreciate it as much as I have.”

I don’t remember much after that moment, just glimpses of pain and flashes of light. All I know is that several days later I woke up thirstier than I had ever been before. The thought had barely crossed my mind when Bogdan reappeared. My senses had grown so heightened, that as soon as he entered the room, I smelled the prize he carried for me. That poor child he brought before me that day was the first person I ever killed. She had looked so sweet, so delicious; I couldn’t help myself. I had to take a bite.

You know, I’ve been taking little bites here and there ever since. Sometimes I even finish them off if I’ve gotten hungry enough. Usually; however, I can sustain myself on the blood of the animals I prepare, but I’m not always perfect. Each cut of meat I put for sale represents a meal for me. I am a butcher after all; it’s so easy to get the blood I need. And yet, it’s never quite enough. The blood of a cow or pig can only sustain me for so long. It does little to really slake my hunger, which is why I have become rather famous in this city. It’s hard having the fame that I do, knowing people are more wary of when I’ll strike next. Personally, I think that just makes it all more fun. If the police are trying to catch me, if everyone knows I exist then it only makes the hunt more thrilling.

Perhaps a vampire should fear the infamy, be wary of letting out our little secret, but I’ve never felt that way. I want people to know, I want them to guess. All the sweet, innocent humans walking home alone at night, clutching mace in fear I might show up simply adds to their flavor. Adrenalin pumping through their veins as I suck them dry is the tastiest of all. Some may call me crazy, wild, or a monster, but I’m simply a new predator, higher up on the food chain. I’m a butcher, you see, a man who prepares meat for a living. You just happen to be my new prey.

After all, The Butcher is an excellent name for a serial killer. You should know; you gave it to me so lovingly. Whenever you write your little newspaper, claiming to know me, to know my methods, you’ve never really known the truth. You made me famous, made me who I am. Everyone in this city, in the world even, who knows me, is all because of you. So thank you. Perhaps I should give you a gift in return. However, there is one more thing I must tell you before I go. Earlier, I mentioned that time makes everything easier, even death. What I should have said is that time makes everything easier, even killing. You’ll have to forgive me for such a dire mistake. I’m afraid it’s going to cost you your life.

#short story #short stories #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing #creative writing #vampires #vampire #supernatural #london writes

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stitchthesewords · 2 years ago

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Stitch I am literally so normal about your heroes au but what did you do to my mossy man??? I saw what you did to my bois Scar, Grian, Mumbai Jumbolio (concussed idiot), and Iskall but what did you do to my moss ball HM???? I’m so normal about this I swear

WELL I'm glad you asked.

So what I'm thinking is that Bdubs....well he's had a rough time methinks. Imagine feeling vines burst from your body all over the place for the first time - that's gonna hurt. AND - technically - the NHO can't talk to each other. They aren't supposed to know one another. Sure, they get around that by communicating with hidden messages in their weapons and figuring out which cameras don't work or sometimes going to Doc to just speak, but - well. Bdubs is alone for the most part. Alone to deal with the pain, the new powers, and suddenly being one of the most important heroes in Boatem.

And he's good at it too. Sure, he'll downplay how good he is, but once he gets a hang of things he's on par with some of the other top heroes in the city, past and present. But I don't think he likes it. I think he's got like a month of trying desperately to convince himself that this is so COOL and he's BADASS before he probably falls into a depression at how much he risks his life nearly every day for 60k and health insurance and he doesn't even get to see his boyfriends. Well - his- his friends. Its not like they're dating or anything and Bdubs has only ever seen Doc's face and-

Yeah he's a mess.

RELATED - I do imagine they will get out of the lab and I've actually uh. WRITTEN something for this so the taglist and story are below the cut

Doc’s eye gave a lot more information than Etho’s own, but it was older. It wasn’t designed solely for field work. The fact that it broke, and Doc couldn’t be the one to fiddle with it had Etho feeling ill, but he’d manage. He felt weirdly exposed, sitting in a room with the three of them and yet entirely out of The Lab’s reach. Their escape was a miracle and Etho certainly wasn’t about to go asking any questions.

No one removed their disguises unless Doc’s eye counted as one. The creeper hybrid laid at Etho’s feet ,the bald and mottle skin around his bad eye on clear display. Etho huffed as he struggled with a screw that didn’t want to come loose. In the background, he could still hear Bdubs fighting back pained whimpers.

“Someone’s going to have to go first,” Beef said. “And – You already know my name. So.” He caught Etho’s attention, the man barely lifting an eyebrow as his head snapped to attention. Where Bdubs’s laid on a rinkydink little mattress, he was watching too.

Beef reached up and pressed a button on the underside of the mask. There was a mechanical hiss sound that Etho couldn’t help but associate with something breaking, but he watched with rapt attention anyway as the two pieces came apart and Beef discarded them on the ground. He hadn’t actually looked at Etho or Bdubs proper yet, too preoccupied with smashing the mask underneath his foot with a glare, but Etho couldn’t help but feel like his face fit his voice.

He was glad his mask hid most of his face as he felt his cheeks heat up slightly. Beef was…handsome to say the least. Etho liked the beard. He watched Beef kick the remains of what was his mask across the room, and they skittered on the tile. He looked up at Bdubs first and then to Etho proper, smiling a little and coming to sit beside him. Or, well, lean on the boxes Etho was leaning on too.

“That feels better,” he said, watching Etho’s hands as if they were moving at all.

The spy cleared his throat and went back to fighting with a screw. “For someone named the Butcher you’re a lot prettier than I expected,” he said, not looking in Beef’s direction. Beef laughed, though it cut itself off when Bdubs winced again, partially sitting up.

“I’ll go next, since everyone’s so keen-“ he said with another wince. Etho had glimpsed parts of his face, but never all of it. Never enough to get the full picture. He felt his throat going a little dry. Bdubs was…special. Important. It felt wrong to play favorites, and Etho’s brain argued that he wasn’t, not really. But Bdubs was the one who underwent the procedure. He was the one who was in pain when none of them could hold him. Someone should be holding him now.

His reveal was a little easier, since all he had to do was flip up the veil. Or pull the hood down, though as Etho understood it, the hood was a part of him now. Still, the suddenness of the motion might’ve knocked Etho off his feet if he wasn’t being supported. Beef laughed at the look in Etho’s eyes, though he was also clearly taken with Bdubs at the moment.

He was…breathtaking felt like the right word. Etho was pretty sure between Beef and Bdubs he wasn’t getting enough oxygen. His face was so soft, even as he refused to look either of them in the eyes. He winced again and fell back on the mattress and Beef snapped to attention, crouching next to Bdubs as the veil fell back into place. Etho wanted it gone. He heard Beef say something soft to him and Bdubs say something back, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying over the sound of the blood rushing around his ears.

“Etho?” that was Doc’s voice. It snapped Etho’s attention down to the floor. The creeper hybrid had an almost snarl on his face, though it was not directed towards Etho but the eye in his hand. “The damn thing broke again, huh,” he said.

Etho swallowed and nodded because he didn’t think he could get words out at the moment. Doc’s good eye squinted to see around the room and reminded Etho of his task. Doc needed to be able to see.

Beef looked up as Doc started squirming to sit up and he smiled a little. “Ah! Oh good, Doc, you’re awake,” he said. With one hand he dragged the mattress Bdubs was laying on over to where Etho and Doc were, though Bdubs protested the motion (“I’m fine! I’m only a few feet away! Stop it!”). Doc froze as he realized, it seemed, that he was seeing Beef’s face, and his hands reached out. Beef laughed and he sat on the floor in front of Doc and the two had a very quiet moment of Doc simply holding his face and staring.

“Of all the times for my eye to be broken-“ he complained.

“I’m working on it,” Etho said, waving the screwdriver around and trying to not make it so obvious that he was too busy watching everyone else. They were safe, they’d gotten away.

For now.

“Etho still hasn’t taken that mask off, so you haven’t missed everything,” Beef explaining, looking up at the only other man in the room who really knew what he was doing with Doc’s eye. He blinked, once again pausing on trying to get the screw loose.

“Ah, my face is nothing special. I’m working,” he said. A shaky hand readjusted on the screwdriver as he pointedly ignored everyone in the room looking at him.

“Etho.” He wasn’t sure who spoke. His brain really only registered that someone said his name.

“It’s true. I look like every other white-haired guy with a red eye,” he said, trying to make it come out as a laugh. He flipped the device in his hands over and worked on a different screw. He didn’t register the vines moving to peel his toy away until it was too late to stop Bdubs, who winced but did it anyway. Even though the veil, he could see where Bdubs was trying not to be too grossed out by the fact that he was technically holding Doc’s eye.

Etho huffed and smoothed his bare fingers over his shirt. The gloves protected most of his hand from most sensation, so it was nice to remind himself he could fully feel something. Grounding, like the mask. When he looked up again, Bdubs’s vines were holding his screwdriver and Doc’s eye far out of reach, and everyone was still looking at him.

“You’re going to have to give that back. Doc needs to be able to see,” Etho said, crossing his arms. He felt very put on, still standing while everyone else sat around him. It felt like he was on a stage. Like he was being devoured by eyes.

“Etho, we want you to show us your face too,” Bdubs said. Etho registered in the back of his head that the veil was gone. He swallowed, finding it difficult to even look away from Bdubs.

He cleared his throat and managed to turn his head anyway, and with a deep breath he reached up to pull it down. Taking it all the way off felt like too much. Even now, he liked what little anonymity the mask gave him, and he knew he’d probably pull it back up after they saw their fill. He moved to sit down with them before turning back to look at them.

There was a soft and collective inhale, and Bdubs’s face broke out in a smile. “I knew it! Beef owes me five bucks!” he shouted, and Beef smacked him on the shoulder while Etho looked on, confused.

“I – What?” he asked.

“The scar! It goes all the way down your neck. Beef thought it ended on your cheek,” Bdubs said, clearly very proud of himself. “I knew that couldn’t be true because there’s a little bit of it that peeks out from under the button on the neck part-“

Beef smacked his shoulder again while Etho’s face burned, though frankly it was probably better than one of them waxing poetic about his features or thinking he was ugly. He could handle a bet for now and pulled his mask back up.

Doc didn’t say anything, but Etho could tell when the hybrid was cocking an eyebrow at him. He didn’t have eyebrows, but that wasn’t important. It was being cocked. “…I like the mask,” Etho said quietly, holding out his hand for Doc’s eye back.

@atherix @braxiatel @greatbridge @ellalily @lesbianwilby @em-mermaid @loombarrow @sparksnevadas @aceofthefandoms

#Asks #Anonymous #Superhero AU #NHO #Hermitshipping #technically speaking

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chernayawidow · 1 year ago

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“It was Christmas Eve, and your boyfriend was late.” — BOYFRIEND!! BOYFRIEND!! BOYFRIEND!! WOOHOOOOOO!!!! It’s so satisfying to see!

“It was the first Christmas you and Ben were spending together since he’d started working with, instead of against Supe Affairs and the CIA.” — Omg so he’s working with the Boys now? That’s awesome! I’m assuming that’s a condition of him being able to remain in America.

“While he’d been gone, you went all out in decorating the apartment: red and white candles, stockings, various ornaments, multicolored string lights, and poinsettias.” — That’s just like my mum, she goes ALL OUT for Christmas and the house always looks amazing.

““Don’t give me that face, baby doll.” Ben quirked a smile at your concerned frown, and he propped a gentle fist under your chin. You crossed your arms.” — AWH THEY’RE SO FRICKEN CUTE!!!

“But you pulled him down for a searing kiss. If you weren’t going to see his handsome face for a while, then you were going to make the most of this moment.” — No stop it because I don’t know if I’m prepared for the amount of pure romantic cuteness that they’ll have in this fic, especially since they’re officially together here 😭💖

““Oi! Sid and fuckin’ Nancy,” Butcher called from down the hall. “Got a fucking job to do. Today, if you don’t mind.”” — I’m so curious as to what dynamic Ben has with The Boys when he’s an official part of the team. It’s not too hard to guess where he’d stand with Butcher, but in regards to everyone else, it’s a curious thought.

“…your hand might just “slip” while pouring yourself a rum-filled eggnog, so you wouldn’t be held liable for your actions when you inevitably snapped on the bitch.” — I support this message 1000%! Christmas on the piss is the best and there’s no other way to be! Now I’d love to see how she acts when she’s drunk though 🤣

““Ben!” You paused your movie and bounded over to greet him with a warm hug and a deep kiss. He brushed your hair back and allowed himself to revel in the familiarity of you in his arms. “Aren’t you a fucking sight,” he murmured.” — His softness towards her, especially here, really feels like he’s finally finding some peace, maybe he’ll finally simmer down 🤣. He’s got a home with his Pookie, and that’s a step in the direction of building a potential life together and it’s melting my heart!

“Ben was still getting used to having someone to come home to, but it was grounding. This place was his home now, mostly because you were in it.” — This warms me up, the way he thinks about her and thinks of her as his home 😭🫶

“You tugged him by the hand and all but pushed him into the hall that led to your shared bedroom. Ben wasn’t one to be manhandled though. He dug his heels in obstinately.” — I love that even though they’re together now, they still have that dynamic between them 🤣

“You knew that face. That was his, I’ll do this for you, but I’m not gonna fucking like it—face.” — He’s such a man child about everything 🤣

““What am I, a damn kid?” he said. But you knew his griping had no real weight. Already he was humming deep with pleasure as your fingers carded through his soft brown hair. You let your nails drag lightly over his scalp, massaging his head. Your free hand stroked his cheek.” — They’re an even cuter couple than I ever imagined 😭 he’s a big, strong Supe and here he is, cuddled up in her lap and getting his hair stroked 🥹

“His gaze trailed beyond you, lost in faded memories. They played in his mind like a reel, wordless, but bright and warm.” — I love it when you add depth to Ben’s background 😩 it humanises him so much more and it’s always so interesting to read!

“Ben raised a brow at your choice of “favorite.” If nothing else, he noted your type for older men.” — LMAOOOOOO!!! I’m surprised he didn’t verbalise this thought 🤣

“He took your hand from his shoulder and pressed the back of it to his lips. You blinked down at him, and you warmed with a smile at seeing his more relaxed face. He kept your hand on his chest, his thumb drawing back and forth over your wrist.” — CUTENESS OVERLOAD HAPPENING RIGHT NOW!!!

“Shit, you thought, but your grin was soft. Oh, whatever. Sleep is overrated.” — You know it’s love when you give up sleep for them…

“And you whispered in his ear, “Merry Christmas, Ben.”” — They’ve come so far together, who would’ve guessed that Ben’s happy ending would be with his kidnapping victim? 🤣💖

This fic makes me even more excited to see how the rest of the main series unfolds, I’m so keen to see what makes Grace even CONSIDER retracting her condition that Ben wouldn’t be allowed in the states again, let alone working with Supe Affairs! Beautiful work as usual, it maintains the essence that the series has and it really does feel like an extension of that 🫶

Love Actually

Paring: Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader

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

AN: Here’s my last entry for the TGWRC: Christmas in July event! It’s set in the same world as “Break Me Down,” and set before “Checkerboard.” But this can be read as a stand-alone! Hope you enjoy…

Theme: Christmas movies Prompt: “That’s a poor excuse for a tree.”

Word Count: 3,100 Tags/Warnings: SB being himself, wee bit of angst, potential fluff overload!

He was late.

It was Christmas Eve, and your boyfriend was late.

With a large bowl of popcorn in your lap, you sunk further into your favorite corner of the couch, drumming your nails on its arm.

Your favorite Christmas movie played on the ridiculously large flatscreen Ben had insisted on when you two moved into this apartment. But you couldn’t get into the story like you normally would.

It was the first Christmas you and Ben were spending together since he’d started working with, instead of against Supe Affairs and the CIA. In fact, he was on an extended mission—hunting down a rogue supe in Idaho, of all places.

Freakin’ Idaho. Goddamn potatoes, you thought irrationally, shoving another handful of popcorn into your mouth.

While he’d been gone, you went all out in decorating the apartment: red and white candles, stockings, various ornaments, multicolored string lights, and poinsettias. You’d even found a nice little tree that fit in the only free corner of the living room.

Well, you’d had to rearrange some furniture to make that happen, but in the end you’d succeeded. It felt like you were living at the bottom of a snow globe.

You hadn’t heard from Ben at all in over two weeks. The day he left you outside your office in the Surveillance department replayed often in your mind.

Two weeks ago…

“Don’t give me that face, baby doll.”

Ben quirked a smile at your concerned frown, and he propped a gentle fist under your chin. You crossed your arms.

You knew he had to go. Butcher and the rest of the guys were waiting outside the S.A. office. And you were proud of him for what he was doing, genuinely trying to put in the work on this “hero” thing. But you didn’t have to like the timing. It was only two weeks until Christmas.

“Fine,” you agreed. “Just get this guy quick. I don’t want to hear my aunt’s shady-ass sniping. Every time I show up to a family gathering by myself, she starts plotting my arranged marriage to her fucking pediatrist, her divorce attorney—mind the irony there—or even the guy who packages meat at the grocery store—”

“All right, Christ. I’ll be back in fucking time,” said Ben. He grabbed your arms to stop your verbal flapping. Then with a grin, his hands moved to the curve of your waist, down to get a healthy grip of your ass.

“’Sides, I’m the only one flingin’ meat around here,” he said with a deepening smirk.

You rolled your eyes, but a smile threatened to take over your frown as he pulled you flush against him, trapping your hands against his broad chest. You found purchase on the hard fabric of his uniform.

“You’re so gross,” you said. But you pulled him down for a searing kiss. If you weren’t going to see his handsome face for a while, then you were going to make the most of this moment.

And it seemed your boyfriend felt the same way; his arms wrapped around your frame like steel bands. Your fingers swept through his hair as your tongue slipped into his mouth, making his grip on you tighten with a pleased hum.

“Oi! Sid and fuckin’ Nancy,” Butcher called from down the hall. “Got a fucking job to do. Today, if you don’t mind.”

Ben broke away from you, just enough to frown in irritation over your head.

“Calm your fucking tits, Churchill. I’ll leave when I’m good and damn ready.”

You couldn’t help but giggle into his chest.

Now, it was quite literally hours away from Christmas Day.

You would be seeing your family tomorrow, regardless. You and Ben were supposed to go to your mother’s house for dinner. But you were starting to think that he might not make it tonight, let alone tomorrow.

And if you had to deal with your aunt nosing into your personal business again, your hand might just “slip” while pouring yourself a rum-filled eggnog, so you wouldn’t be held liable for your actions when you inevitably snapped on the bitch.

Sighing, you continued munching on some popcorn while you focused on one of your favorite parts of Love Actually. Hugh Grant was shaking his ass to “Jump In” by the Pointer Sisters.

The music was infectious, and you found yourself doing a little shimmy yourself on the couch in time with one of your favorite rom-com Brits.

With the TV volume as loud as it was, not even the door of your apartment unlocking could stop your mini-jam session.

And the door soon opened, revealing a dusty, soot-covered Benjamin, still in his supe suit and tactical gear. He took a small step back when the gaudy Christmas décor assaulted his eyes, but he blinked through it as he turned his head.

His lips curved at the familiar sight of you—bundled up in your pajamas and a fuzzy blanket on the couch, bopping to the beat of some shitty ‘80s song he actually recognized. You were alternatively mouthing the words and eating fistfuls of popcorn.

Shaking his head, Ben stepped into the apartment and shut the door with some force. You finally perked up at the sound, your smile alight with happiness when you realized he was home. That alone made him soften a bit.

“Ben!” You paused your movie and bounded over to greet him with a warm hug and a deep kiss.

He brushed your hair back and allowed himself to revel in the familiarity of you in his arms.

“Aren’t you a fucking sight,” he murmured.

Ben was still getting used to having someone to come home to, but it was grounding. This place was his home now, mostly because you were in it.

“You okay? How did it go?” you asked, wiping off some soot from his cheek.

“Who do you think you’re talking to?” Ben offered you a cocky smile. “We smoked that pyro bitch.”

Your eyes narrowed. “You what?”

“Relax, the supe’s alive,” he said, rolling his eyes, as if it grated him to admit it. He wouldn’t tell you that the supe had two broken arms and probably a crack in his skull. “Being shipped off to prison as we speak.”

You nodded with a smile. “Good. I’m proud of you.”

His lips pulled at a grin. But then you took his face between your hands with a hard slap (though it didn’t even sting, the point was made in your annoyed frown).

“You’re late,” you said. Ben raised a brow.

“Excuse me?” he said.

“You heard me. You’re fucking late,” you repeated. “Go take a shower. I already started the first movie without you.”

You tugged him by the hand and all but pushed him into the hall that led to your shared bedroom.

Ben wasn’t one to be manhandled though. He dug his heels in obstinately.

“Christ, I just got home. All I want to do is sleep…unless you want to give me a proper fucking welcome.”

He glanced at you over his shoulder with a more than suggestive smirk. He turned around and pulled you into his firm chest. His hands smoothed down your back and squeezed your hips, with his thumbs dragging under the hem of your pajama top.

While your lips threatened a smile, you had to wonder how he had enough energy for reunion sex, but not enough to watch a simple movie.

Still, his offer was all-too tempting, making heat prickle along your skin wherever he touched. Nonetheless, you managed to remain stubborn and pushed gently against his chest.

“Down, boy,” you said. “If I let you get your hands on me now, I’ll never get through my list.”

First it was Love Actually, then Christmas Vacation, followed swiftly by Home Alone and its sequel, Lost In New York.

Ben frowned at you. “So? Watch ‘em tomorrow.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, it’s Christmas Eve.”

You gestured to all your hard work in the form of the decorated apartment.

“Tomorrow, we have dinner at my mom’s house. So tonight, you’re gonna go shower," you said, pointing at him. "I’m going to make some more hot chocolate, and we’re watching all manner of cheesy, romantic, and downright silly Christmas movies until your Grinch-ass gets some holiday spirit.”

Ben released a tired sigh and dropped his hands away from you.

“I haven’t slept in three fucking days," he said. "I’m not staying up all night again for some corny bullshit.”

You frowned in disappointment.

“Ben, come on. Please?” you tried, but he just waved a dismissive hand and continued his way to the bedroom.

For a moment, you watched him go in disbelief. Was he really going to be like that?

With a flash of hot annoyance, you huffed and decided that you weren’t going to let him ruin the night for you.

So you went into the kitchen and whipped up some hot cocoa, breaking out the actual Godiva chocolate bars you bought just for this moment. You poured out one mug initially. But you listened to the old water pipes working, knowing that Ben must’ve been taking a shower.

You knew he wasn’t just tired. He didn’t seem to be looking forward to tomorrow either, and was going along with it for your sake. Which, to be fair, could just mean he still wasn’t totally comfortable around your family. (Your sister Luisa still hadn’t totally warmed up to him.)

You also had a feeling that he just wasn’t into Christmas.

The question was why…

But you poured a mug for him anyway, adding some mini marshmallows into each one. You brought both mugs with you back to the living room and set them down on the coffee table.

Getting comfortable on the couch again, complete with your blanket, mug, and the popcorn bowl, you pressed “play” and continued watching the movie…even though you felt just a bit lonelier.

But then, a weight dropped on the other end of the couch. You flinched and looked over at your now clean and pajama-clad boyfriend, who eyed you begrudgingly with his arms crossed over a soft plain shirt.

You smiled at him warmly. “Hey, baby.”

His grouchy face was the very picture of “humbug.” Biting your lip, you set down the popcorn on the coffee table and handed him the spare cup of hot chocolate.

“I made some for you,” you said. He gave you a brief nod and took a dutiful sip. But not even rich, chocolatey goodness could curb his sour mood as he stared blandly at the screen.

You knew that face. That was his, I’ll do this for you, but I’m not gonna fucking like it—face.

When he stifled a yawn, you knew that he hadn’t been lying. He really was tired. Sometimes you forgot that while Ben was all but indestructible, even he had his limits. Chasing that rogue supe across the country must’ve taken it out of him, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

So you reached over and plucked the mug out of his hand. His brows knit together as he watched you set it down on the coffee table with yours. Then you grabbed his hand.

“Come ‘ere,” you said, tugging him toward you.

“What now?” he groused.

“Just come on. Don’t bitch,” you teased. You guided him to lay across the couch, with his head pillowed in your lap. You grabbed an extra throw blanket off the back of the couch and draped it over him, making sure that it covered him up to his chest.

“What am I, a damn kid?” he said. But you knew his griping had no real weight. Already he was humming deep with pleasure as your fingers carded through his soft brown hair. You let your nails drag lightly over his scalp, massaging his head. Your free hand stroked his cheek.

Ben closed his eyes for a moment and let out a sigh through his nose. The movie continued to play, but you were no longer paying much attention. This was more important.

When he opened his eyes again, they were drawn to the small, four-foot Christmas tree in the corner of the room, next to the TV.

“That’s a poor fucking excuse for a tree,” he said.

You frowned and followed his gaze.

“I think it’s adorable,” you replied. And it was the only one you thought would fit in this cozy, but very narrow apartment.

Ben’s arms crossed over his blanket.

“I’ll go tomorrow, find us a real fucking tree,” he said.

Your frown deepened a little. “But I already decorated this one. All by myself, I might add.”

He eyed you then, a bit softer.

“All right, we’ll get a second one for the dining room,” he grumbled. “Getting the tree up is a man’s job anyway.”

You rolled your eyes at that. But you tried to see if there was anything deeper to read in his words. Not for the first time, you wondered how he’d spent his holidays in the past. No doubt with a lot of fanfare and celebrity parties during his hay day as Soldier Boy. You were more interested in his life before that.

“I remember, my mom would run the show at Christmas,” Ben said.

You blinked down at him in surprise. Without knowing, he’d opened up on your exact curiosity.

Or maybe he just knew you better than you thought.

“She’d have all the help in a damn tear around the house. Cooking, decorating, the whole nine yards. It was a perfect scene, like something out of a catalogue,” said Ben. “But getting the tree was always my dad’s job. His only job, really.”

You smiled and continued to listen with rapt attention. Your thumb continued to stroke along his neck.

“One year, he got this massive one. Must’ve been…I don’t know, twenty feet. I don’t even know how he got it through the door, but he was mighty fucking proud of himself,” Ben said.

His gaze trailed beyond you, lost in faded memories. They played in his mind like a reel, wordless, but bright and warm.

“Who decorated it?” you asked. Your voice drew his attention back.

“Me and him,” Ben admitted, surprising you yet again. “Meanwhile, Mom baked up a storm for the Christmas party they threw every year…”

It was a rare moment where Ben recalled what seemed to be a nice memory of his father. But soon enough, the nostalgia dimmed from his eyes.

He cleared his throat and swiped a hand over his mouth, as if that could erase his moment of vulnerability.

Then he turned to face the TV screen.

“So what’s even happening here? Seems like there’s four goddamn movies playing at once.”

You cracked a smile and continued brushing your fingers through his hair. You also rewinded the movie so he could actually follow the story.

“Yeah, that’s what makes this movie so classic. See, there’s Emma Thompson and Alan Rickman. They’re married, kids, the perfect life, right? But he’s actually cheating on her with a younger, sluttier woman.”

“…And this is a fucking Christmas movie?”

“Yeah, you’ll see. Then there’s Liam Neeson.”

Ben perked up at that. “The Taken guy?”

You nodded. “Yep! He’s a widower, but he has a stepson who’s got a sweet little crush. So he’s gonna try and help the kid impress the girl by helping him learn the drums.”

Your boyfriend nodded.

“Musicians get plenty of pussy, that’s for damn sure,” he said. And with a knowing grin, “Actors get more though.”

You snorted and pointed to Hugh Grant next. “He’s my favorite. He’s playing the Prime Minister, who falls in love with his assistant, Natalie. That’s her right there.”

Ben raised a brow at your choice of “favorite.” If nothing else, he noted your type for older men.

But he smirked when Natalie kept verbally fumbling in Hugh’s presence, then stared along with the Prime Minister at the woman’s ass when she walked away at the end of the scene.

“Hmm, I’ll admit. She’s got a juicy peach,” Ben remarked. You laughed and hit his shoulder playfully. It worked an amused smile onto his face.

He took your hand from his shoulder and pressed the back of it to his lips. You blinked down at him, and you warmed with a smile at seeing his more relaxed face.

He kept your hand on his chest, his thumb drawing back and forth over your wrist.

So you proceeded to explain the various angles of the movie until he was all caught up.

You two watched the rest of it together. Like always, you cried when Colin Firth poured his heart out to his housekeeper, Aurélia, half in his mangled Portuguese and half in English. You cried again when Emma’s character finally confronted her cheating bastard husband.

And you held your breath when Hugh and Natalie kissed as the stage curtain fell down, revealing their relationship to the world.

By the time the credits rolled, you were an emotional mess. You were happy though. Typically you’d watch this movie with your sister, but it was nice to share the holidays with someone…

Someone who loved you enough to curb his Grinch attitude about cheesy romantic things, like tree decorating and watching rom-coms with hot cocoa.

You glanced down, and sure enough, Ben was asleep. He had turned onto his stomach. His head still rested in your lap, his cheek pillowed by your thigh, and he had a hand curled around your leg. Your big, growling bear of a man had a gooey center that sometimes surprised even you.

For one mischievous moment, you considered sticking a piece of popcorn up his nose.

He looked so damn peaceful that you didn’t want to ruin it…yet now you couldn’t get up either.

Shit, you thought, but your grin was soft. Oh, whatever. Sleep is overrated.

You queued up Chevy Chase’s Christmas Vacation next in your movie marathon and settled in. You laid a gentle hand on Ben’s back, between his broad shoulders.

And his story about his parents returned to the forefront of your mind.

Maybe he didn’t hate Christmas. Maybe it was just difficult for him to remember the genuinely good ones. Maybe he missed his parents; both of them, despite how contentious it had been between him and his father.

You could certainly understand that. But now, you would make sure he would remember this one for the “good” column.

You only startled a little when your cell phone chimed on the coffee table. The screen read 12:00 a.m. It was officially December 25th.

You then felt Ben’s warm hand squeeze your leg. His eyes were still shut though, his breathing deep and even in sleep.

With a smile, you leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

And you whispered in his ear, “Merry Christmas, Ben.”

AN: Yay! I hope you liked this fluffy one for SB. Thus concludes my foray into Christmas in July! 🎄❤️

Did you like Ben's little day trip down memory lane? Let me know in the comments! 😘

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