#soldier boy series

[zepskies]

The game begins...

Yes, I'm extra lol. After seeing this lovely music playlist by @venus-haze, she gave me the inspo to do one for Lost on You (Soldier Boy x Supe!Reader).

🎙️ LOST ON YOU PLAYLIST: YOUTUBE || SPOTIFY

But watch out! Here's Side B:

"Interrupt the flow, they better not dare..."

And for those who made it this far, LOY Part 2 drops tomorrow, friends! 💚💜😘

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

New Soldier Boy series teaser! 👀

Don't blame me, love made me crazy If it doesn't you ain't doin' it right Oh Lord take me, my drug is my baby I be using for the rest of my life

[wayward-dreamer]

Far From Innocent - Part 2

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female!Reader

Word count: 2,874

Summary: Y/N's life is quite simple. She's engaged to be married in a few months, she has the easiest job at Vought American, and she stays out of the drama or away from rumors she's heard around the office. An encounter with Soldier Boy, Vought's most respected hero, quickly changes all of that and she soon realizes that there's more to life than what she's settled for. (Set in the 50s)

Warnings: Angst, swearing, degrading language, typical 1950s misogyny, sexual thoughts, thoughts of cheating, actual cheating, drinking, smoking, drug use, implied smut

A/N: I'm so glad y'all enjoyed the first part. Next one will be out in a few days. Happy reading and enjoy! beta'd by my darling @hintsofhoney

A few weeks had passed since Y/N had that brief glimpse into Soldier Boy’s private life. From that day she had done everything she could to avoid seeing him again. She kept her head down and distracted herself with as much work as possible, forwarding any request that had to do with him onto someone else. She had managed to keep to herself and be completely oblivious to what the supes got up to for the two years she had been working there, but suddenly since that moment, it wasn’t so easy anymore. The rumors she thought may not be true, now definitely were especially after what she had witnessed that day and since then.

She had tried so hard to not be anywhere in the vicinity of Soldier Boy, but a late night or two working at the office had their paths crossing. She had noticed him with Tek Knight and two women, trying to sneak into the building from the service elevator to his penthouse on one occasion. The other time he was chatting up a new female supe, one that Vought had been hoping to sign with, but Y/N hadn’t seen her again after that.

Despite it all, there was still an allure and mystery that she was intrigued by. She still found herself wanting to know more, wanting to do more, and do it all with him. She and Jim had tried to be intimate again, but he had of course fallen into the same problem and she was left to take care of herself once he fell asleep.

She wasn’t sure how much more of it she could take.

They hadn’t talked about it, and she wondered whether she should mention it to him, but she had a feeling that wouldn’t be the smartest idea. So she ignored it, pretended like everything was okay as they continued their lunch break tradition, went home together, spent weekends planning for the wedding and avoiding what she knew would be a touchy subject.

She also continued to ignore the forbidden desires she had been having about America’s greatest superhero, only allowing herself to think about those things at the hour of the lonely and dreaming.

“So, the country club is booked and I’m going for my suit fitting…”

Y/N drowned out Jim’s ramblings of the wedding as she continued to stock the coffee and tea cart with napkins, spoons, sugar packets and everything else she had been asked to do. They had been short staffed for the shoot and needed more people to help, so he convinced her and a few others to join. He didn’t tell her what it was for, and she didn’t really care. She just needed to avoid a run-in with Soldier Boy.

“Y/N?” he called out, waving his hand in front of her face and breaking her out of her reverie. “Did you hear me?”

“Yes,” she replied, clearing her throat. “Country club, suit fitting, it’s all settled.”

“And you’re going for your dress fitting with your mom this weekend, right?” he asked, taking her hand and making her face him.

“Yeah,” she sighed, mustering up a smile.

“Well, you better hide it before I come over on Saturday, ‘cause we don’t need any bad luck…” he whispered, leaning in and kissing her lips, softly.

Y/N hummed as she kissed him back, trying to pull away as she wasn’t a fan of public displays like that, but Jim cupped her cheek to keep her from moving. The sound of heavy footsteps reached her ears, causing her eyes to snap open just as a group of suits from advertising walked in, followed by hero management who flanked the star of today’s shoot, Soldier Boy. She pulled away from the kiss, watching as he marched past them, lighting a cigarette as he pushed through.

“S-Soldier Boy’s doing the commercial?” she asked, looking up at Jim.

“Yeah, who else would?” he remarked, shrugging his shoulders.

“You didn’t tell me that,” she murmured, frowning at him.

“So?” he questioned, confusion written on his face. “It’s not a big deal, sweetie. We just needed a couple people to help. He’s not even gonna notice you.”

That might be a good thing she thought to herself as she let out a heavy sigh.

“Don’t be nervous,” he told her, patting her shoulder before he walked away towards the supe.

“I’m not,” she whispered, rolling her eyes as she knew that was a lie.

Y/N stayed by the table as she continued to observe, her eyes never leaving the man in green and gold. He put out the cigarette as one of the assistants handed him the pack of Marlboro for the advert. He had the script in his other hand, throwing it at the assistant just as the director called for people to move out of the shot.

“And we’re rolling,” he announced, glancing behind him at the crew before turning back to Soldier Boy. “Whenever you’re ready, sir.”

Just as Soldier Boy lifted his head to look down the lens, he noticed someone standing further away near the food table. Y/N. He had wondered if he would ever see her around again, especially after he found her in his apartment, watching him. He saw as she stared back at him, her hands clutching nervously as the belt around her waist. His lips pulled up into a smirk, causing a sharp exhale to leave her, her gaze dropping to the floor just as he looked away from her into the camera.

Y/N looked down at her watch, hoping that in another few minutes they could dismiss her, and she could go back to her regular job. She needed to get away as fast as possible. She busied herself with making a pyramid out of the Styrofoam cups, briefly glancing up with every take that the director wanted. She smiled as Jim walked over, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as he kissed her temple, nuzzling his nose into her hair.

“What do you say we sneak outta here and have some fun,” he mumbled into her ear.

“Actually, I think I’m gonna head back up and work,” she stated, shifting away from him.

“Hey, come on, we got some time to kill,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows as he pulled her into his arms.

“Jimmy, I can’t,” she laughed, lightly as she looked up at him. “I have a lot to do-”

“It’s nothing that can’t wait,” he cut her off, pressing his lips to hers.

She squeaked as she pushed at his shoulders, ripping her mouth away from his as she frowned up at him. “It’s my job, Jimmy.”

“I know that-” he started but she had him gulping with the glare she gave him.

“Do you?” she countered, raising an eyebrow.

“Sweetie, let’s not do this here,” he lowered his voice, briefly glancing around to make sure no one was looking at him.

“Oh, but you only wanted to have sex here,” she hissed.

His eyes narrowed as he stared down at her, taking a firm grip of her forearm. “Keep your voice down.”

“Let go of me,” she growled, pulling herself out of his grasp.

With one last scowl, she stalked away from him and stood closer to some of the other employees, all busy with their work. She crossed her arms across her chest as she watched them redress the shot, before the director called action. She moved slowly, standing a few steps behind him, her eyes focused on the supe in front of the camera. Just as he reached the end of the lines, he took out a cigarette from the pack, placed it between his lips and lifted the lighter, lighting the tip. He took a drag, his gaze locking with hers as he did. He blew out a long puff of smoke, their eyes never leaving each other. She felt her thighs quiver, making her press them together in order to keep herself from falling.

“…old fashioned flavor in the new way to smoke,” he recited the end, smirking at the camera as he took another drag.

“Cut!” the director yelled. “That was great, sir. Let’s run it again-”

“Fuck this,” Soldier Boy growled, standing up from the stool so fast it tipped over. “Give me ten…”

“Sir, we should really just keep rolling,” one of the suits interjected, trying to stop him from leaving.

“No, we take ten,” he snapped, his green orbs glaring at the man in front of him. “We square?”

“Y-Yes,” the guy stuttered, a shaky nod accompanying his nervous speech.

“Can we get you anything, sir?” Jim asked, walking over as he saw the situation.

“Jack,” Soldier Boy briefly acknowledged him, dropping his focus and fixing his glove.

“It’s Jim, sir,” he corrected, but the polite smile on his face quickly dropped as the supe turned to him.

Soldier Boy’s face was void of expression, clearly unimpressed. “Whatever. Coffee, iced.”

“On it,” Jim declared, about to step away but he saw the supe had something else to add.

“And uh… have your girl over there deliver it,” Soldier Boy added, nodding towards Y/N as she handed coffees out to some of the employees. His eyes took her in, a small grin on his lips as he slapped Jim’s shoulder, not bothering to look at him. “Thanks, kid.”

Jim sighed deeply as he saw Soldier Boy walk away into one of the small rooms across from the setup. He turned back and spotted Y/N at the snack table, making his way over to her. She quickly glanced up at him before turning her attention back to making a fresh brew.

“Listen, uh… Soldier Boy wants you to bring him an iced coffee,” he explained, scratching the back of his neck. “But I can-”

“No, I’ll do it,” she said, staring up at him blankly. “It’s not like I have anything else to do, right?”

“Y/N,” he breathed, shaking his head but he never got the chance to say anything else.

She strutted away from Jim, nervous to be facing the man she had been having sinful thoughts about for the past few weeks, but relieved to be anywhere but near her fiancé for a few minutes.

Y/N knocked on the door as she took a deep breath, letting it out in a long exhale. She waited for a few seconds, before she rapped her knuckles on the wood again, not wanting a repeat situation of a few weeks ago. She wasn’t sure who could’ve walked into the room while she was out getting Soldier Boy his coffee. A rasped “come in” came from behind the door, and she turned the knob to enter, a sigh of relief leaving her to see him alone. He looked up at her as he wiped under his nose, wiping the surface of the table before he stood up, his signature smirk on his face as he walked around the desk in the small office and she walked over. His helmet was off and sitting on the table, his flippy locks on display and only adding to his charm.

“Here you go, sir,” she mumbled, not meeting his eyes as she handed him his drink.

His gaze never left her as he took a sip from the glass, closing his eyes with a low hum of approval. “Ah, that’s fucking swell. Thanks, sugar.”

“No problem,” she said, nodding slowly. She needed to leave immediately, because there was no way she could survive the way he was looking at her. “Well, I should get back-”

“To that fiancé of yours?” he asked, a pointed look on his face.

She lifted her head to meet his eyes, slightly surprised that he remembered that. She didn’t think someone of his stature would.

“Things seem a little… tense,” he added, leaning back against the desk. “I might’ve noticed.”

She huffed, shaking her head as she clasped her hands in front of her. “That’s putting it mildly.”

“Let me guess… you two did the horizontal tango and he popped it too quick, right?” he prodded, raising an eyebrow.

Her eyes widened as she gasped. She couldn’t speak, far too shocked at what he had just said. Her reaction was enough of an answer for him.

“Anything I can help with?” he asked, his words incredibly suggestive as he kept his intense gaze on her.

She felt her cheeks heat up as she stared back at him, but she tried to remain stoic. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. That-That’s never happened.”

“Oh, come on, doll,” he chuckled, the sound deep and husky as he placed the glass on the desk and looked back at her. “You can’t fucking pretend you didn’t like what you saw that morning. If your guy’s got a problem with his pecker, there’s no way you’re gettin’ what you need.”

She stood frozen in front of him, unable to use her voice to contradict him because she couldn’t. She couldn’t deny the truth.

Soldier Boy took advantage of her stillness, his hand reaching out and slipping a finger under the belt around her waist. He pulled on it, a gasp escaping her as her feet shifted against the carpet, her body instantly pressing into the hard wall of muscle, her hands on his broad shoulders. Their faces were inches apart, his green eyes boring into hers that were wide like saucers, a grin spreading as he caught them glance down at his plump lips.

“And I think we both know what you need,” he whispered, his voice low and gravelly as his breath brushed against her mouth.

A small whimper left her as she stared up at him, breathing heavily at their close proximity. This was the closest she had ever been to him, a brief thought of wanting to be even closer crossed her mind, but she quickly pushed it away.

“What?” she squeaked out.

He laughed lightly, taking in every feature of her face. “To finally act on all the slutty things you’ve been thinking about.”

She let out a shuddered breath as they continued to stare at each other, her eyes still showing a hint of uncertainty, very slowly giving way to a glimpse of confidence.

“Maybe,” she breathed, a small smile pulling at her lips.

“Why don’t we find out for sure,” he suggested, his hands slipping down to rest on her hips. “Tomorrow night.”

“I-I can’t,” she stuttered, shaking her head. She couldn’t do that to Jim.

“I think you can,” he interjected, a cocky grin on his face. “I think you will.”

Just as she opened her mouth, a sharp knock on the door broke them out of their lust-filled haze. Y/N jumped back a few steps, his hands slipping away from her sides as he glared up at their door.

“Sir! We’re ready for you!” a man’s voice yelled from the other side.

“All a bunch of fucking cock blockers,” he muttered under his breath as he picked up his drink.

Y/N brushed down the skirt of her grey dress, adjusting the belt back into place before she looked up at Soldier Boy. He held his helmet under his arm, his drink in the other as he walked over to the door, turning back to her with that smile that made her knees weak.

“9 o’clock, if you change your mind,” he instructed, opening the door. “You know where I’ll be…”

And with that suggestion, she was left alone in the room to contemplate everything he had said.

“Fuck,” she huffed out, placing her hands on her hips as her eyes snapped shut.

He knew what she needed and was willing to help her, but there was no way she could take him up on his offer. She was engaged to be married, and even with how much they had been fighting lately and their problems in the bedroom, she loved Jim. She couldn’t do that to him.

Stepping out of the small office, she walked past Soldier Boy as he got back to filming the commercial, looking around others to see where Jim was. She saw no sign of him, sighing heavily as she wondered if he was upset with her. She shouldn’t have been so annoyed with him. She heard voices down the hallway, her heels clacking against the floorboards as she went to investigate. Her lips spread into a smile as she saw her fiancé walk out of the storeroom, fixing his shirt back into his pants and adjusting his tie. She frowned in confusion, but her eyebrows suddenly pulled into her a scowl as a blonde woman came out behind him, reapplying her lipstick. She quickly recognized her as Brenda, an assistant in the advertising department.

Y/N turned on her heel and stalked away before either of them saw her fuming, making a quick beeline for the elevators. She was going back up to the 40th floor, to get back to the job she was actually paid to do, and to continue to think about Soldier Boy’s offer.

All she knew was that Jim just made her decision a lot easier.

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[waynes-multiverse]

Rehab – Chapter 1

Series Summary: Thanks to Soldier Boy, the CIA was able to develop Project Bloom under the fierce leadership of Grace Mallory: a final cure to Compound V and a hopeful end to the supe epidemic three years after the explosive incident at Vought. A secret rehab facility in Upstate New York is supposed to help former heroes find their way back to humanity. The catch, though? Soldier Boy has never fucking agreed to any of this shit and is surely not happy about being powerless for the first time in his goddamn long life.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female!Reader

Warnings: +18, language, angst, homophobic slurs & misogyny à la SB, hints of depression, tw: suicide attempt (not too graphic but pretty obvious)

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: What starts off fun turns dark quickly...

Feedback is my fuel 🖤

<< Prologue || Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

Chapter 1: maybe

“Hey, Derek.” Y/N smiles at one of the nurses as she approaches the reception and leans her elbows on the counter. “How’s the newbie doing?”

It’s been three days since Soldier Boy arrived at the pristine Upstate rehab facility, established by the CIA as Project Bloom and fully funded by the American government to counteract the “superhuman epidemic,” as they call it. Y/N, however, hasn’t seen him since then, the glorified superhero still voluntarily locking himself in his room.

“God, what a prick,” Derek huffs in annoyance and rolls his eyes. “He tried to bite me this morning and then called me a fucking pussy. He’s still not coming out of his room and refusing to eat. Apparently, he thinks going on a hunger strike will get him out of here sooner. I’m inclined to just let him rot in there and die.”

“Well, can you blame him? The food in here sucks,” Y/N jokes lightheartedly.

“Hey, you love the chef’s chocolate chip pancakes,” Derek counters, chuckling.

Y/N laughs, nodding. “Yeah, but it’s not Wednesday yet, is it? Mind if I take a shot?”

“Knock yourself out, girl,” Derek agrees to her proposal. “I need a break from this asshole, anyways.”

“Cool.” Y/N grins mischievously and wiggles her eyebrows. “Can I borrow your car?”

“Fine.” With a deep sigh, Derek fishes out the keys to his Prius from his uniform and throws them at her. “Get me the Happy Hero Meal, alright?”

“Duh.” Y/N winks with a smile, knowing his usual order by heart, and uses her chipped ID card to unlock the rehabilitation center’s doors before heading out.

Maybe she can get the fallen supe to come out with the right incentive.

Taking a deep breath, the sterile air of the clinic fills her lungs. She already misses the smell of fresh rain on green grass and fallen orange leaves outside and the peaceful pitter-patter of small streams that wind themselves through the Catskills. Upstate New York is always the most beautiful in fall, and Y/N considers herself blessed that she’s one of the only patients who’s allowed to leave the facility whenever she wants and is lucky enough to enjoy the outside world for a little while.

Her knuckles softly tap the white door of Room 11, her eyes looking inside the small glass window to see if her new sponsee is anywhere to be found. The bed is empty, as is the rest of the space, but when she hoists herself up on her tiptoes and peers down a bit more, she spies the toes of two socked feet and knows he’s leaning directly against the door, sitting on the cold linoleum.

“Soldier Boy?” Y/N checks carefully, foregoing the use of his real name. Some newcomers don’t like that and want to hold onto their former identity for as long as possible. The greatest superhero on Earth certainly seems to fit that category. “Hey, uh, look, I’m not a nurse or a doctor. I’m a patient here like you, okay? You know, I heard you weren’t eating, and honestly? I can’t blame you. The food in here fucking sucks ass. Chef Matt is an awful cook. His chocolate chip pancakes are pretty decent, though,” she chuckles, hoping to lighten the mood, although there’s still no sound coming from behind the door. “But, uhm, I pulled a few strings and got you something from Vought-a-Burger?”

There’s still no answer coming, so Y/N starts to rustle with the brown paper bag, opening it up enough for the smell of greasy fast food to flow out and find its way to his nose through the thin crack between the door and the floor. She then pulls out a cheeseburger, unwraps it, and takes a big bite from it.

“God, this is good,” she moans loudly, mouth half-full. It’s not even a lie. “You know, sometimes I think a good cheeseburger is better than climaxing. I mean, this feels pretty orgasmic.”

An amused snort can be heard through the thick door, and Y/N’s lips draw a triumphant smile. She’s got him – hook, line, and fucking sinker.

“I’m Y/N, by the way,” she introduces herself, hoping it breaks the ice a little more. “I-, uh, I’ll leave the bag in front of your door, so you can just grab it when I’ve left and lock yourself back in again, alright?”

As Y/N ducks down to place the brown paper bag on the ground, the door abruptly opens a crack and a head peeks through it. She looks up, and their eyes meet. He seems wary of her, but granted, so does she, neither of them sure if they can trust one another. Two lone wolves meeting in the wild.

“Oh, uhm,” she splutters, not expecting he’d actually dare to show himself so soon.

“Are you eating my fucking burger?”

Y/N giggles and straightens on her feet, the top of her bun barely reaching his broad chest as he towers in front of her like the goddamn Rockies. “No, uh, that’s mine, buddy. But there’s four more in there for you,” she says and holds the bag out for him. He observes it reluctantly as if she might’ve poisoned it. God, that guy is paranoid.

“Fries?”

“Duh, of course. I’m not a monster,” Y/N sasses and adds with a smile, “Even got you a chocolate milkshake, so you can dunk.” She then watches him gruffly nod his approval before accepting the bag. “Mind if I come in and join you for a while?”

“Are you gonna talk as much as you have?”

“Oh, I don’t have to talk at all unless you want me to.” She shrugs innocently and casually stuffs a fry into her mouth. “‘Sides, what are you so scared of, big guy? Don’t tell me you’re terrified of a small girl like me. Powers or not, you could probably still crush me with one hand, right? I mean, look at those muscles on your arms… Like, wow.”

Soldier Boy pensively smacks his lips and clicks his tongue, his cheeks blushing the faintest color of red underneath the unkempt beard. “Alright, get in,” he grunts and holds the door open wider for her, glancing down the hallway before quickly closing it behind her again once she has slipped inside. “No fucking chit-chat, though.”

“Fine by me,” Y/N snorts her amusement and raises both palms in surrender. She drops down on the bed with a blissful sigh and makes herself as comfortable as possible, crossing her legs on the bare mattress. He’s not allowed to have sheets and pillows yet, problematic newbies usually being a suicide risk, and just by looking at him, she can tell he definitely seems somewhat depressed over his current circumstance. Who could blame him, though?

Wordlessly, Soldier Boy eventually settles back on the ground, leaning his back against the bed frame directly underneath her spot this time. A gesture that she finds quite odd. A lot of things are strange about him, in fact. Usually, it takes a while before new arrivals start to trust people here, and it isn’t abnormal that they keep their distance. Frankly, he seems quite lonely and in need of some company but still acts too proud to actively seek it. She was the same when she first came here, too – touch-starved, abandoned, and forgotten.

Y/N then spends the rest of her stay quietly eating her burger and playing Candy Crush on her phone, ignoring his curious glances from time to time as best as she can. She knows he doesn’t want her to know that he’s staring, so she lets him believe that she doesn’t. When twilight filters in through the window and dips the silent room midnight blue, she stretches her tired limbs with a big yawn and rises from the bed, sauntering back to the door.

“Where are you going?”

His deep, husky voice startles her, causing her to halt in her fluffy slippers. She hasn’t expected him to speak or even mind if she left. After all, he hasn’t spoken a word to her for over two hours. “Uhm, just going back to my room. Why?”

His Adam’s apple bobs with a thick swallow as his left shoulder twitches upward. “Figured we could hang out more.”

“Nah, sorry. My show’s about to start,” Y/N purposely rejects his offer, although it’s truthfully just a rewatch of X-Files she’s ditching him for. To reel him in, she sends him a sweet as pie smile. “Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow at breakfast, though. You should come. It’s Wednesday, which means pancakes.”

With chapped lips curled into a pout, there’s a slight nod of his head in acknowledgment before she leaves his room and closes the door behind her, smiling to herself. She’s got him exactly where she wants him.

Maybe he’ll show.

The next morning, Y/N sits in the cafeteria in her usual spot by the wall-to-ceiling, sun-flooded window, the clinic’s park outside in full golden bloom, maple trees painted yellow, orange, and red. As she’s poking away at her pancakes, her current choice of literature is propped open next to her plate, although she’s barely concentrating on the words on the page, her eyes curiously darting to the corridor that leads to the bedrooms every couple of seconds.

Will he show up?

And then, an hour before breakfast is officially over, Y/N finally spies him stalking down the hall, insecure juniper eyes warily observing his new surroundings like an antelope carefully stalking through the savannah, watchful of hungry lions hidden in the tall grass.

She fully focuses on her book and food then, observing him inconspicuously from her periphery and trying not to smile as he behaves like a shy toddler on their first day of kindergarten. Pausing for a minute by the cafeteria doorway, he then straightens his sturdy shoulders and, with a brave swallow, grabs a teal tray, marching over to the counter with feigned confidence.

Good boy, Y/N thinks and chuckles inwardly. She’s happy there’s still a bit of a soldier left in him, albeit he’s never truly been much of one, to begin with.

Soon enough, a tall and wide shadow casts over her table and steals her sunshine like an approaching thundercloud, and while he clearly expects her to look up and notice him, she pretends that she doesn’t until he simply takes a seat across from her and obnoxiously clears his throat in an attempt to catch her attention.

That’s when Y/N decides to lift her head from her book and acts her surprise. “Oh, hey, Soldier Boy… You’ve made it,” she says, smiling, and then instantly turns back to her book, hearing him grumble some muffled swears under his breath.

“I’m Ben,” he states with a forced smile, surely expecting a welcoming parade among words of flattery and sheer admiration. Maybe she should fall to her knees and kiss the ground he walks on?

“I know,” Y/N replies with indifference, pretending the book is still more interesting than the company across from her.

Giving up for the moment, Ben then starts to take bites of his pancakes, Y/N feeling his emerald eyes constantly fixed on her, and yet, she still ignores him as best as she can. It’s honestly not as easy as it sounds. While he might be a racist, sexist asshole and a vicious, coldhearted killer, he admittedly is pleasing to look at. No wonder the guy used to be a major womanizer back in the day. The sparkling forest green eyes, the golden freckles on his tanned skin, the muscles that clad his body, the light brown locks that fall into his face, and the bearded, well-defined jaw would surely make a lot of women’s knees weak.

It’s a shame his personality sucks, but Y/N also knows that Compound V, and Vought especially, have a habit of causing people to forget their own humanity, turning them into divine beasts instead. And if anything, Soldier Boy was the very first lab rat, after all – kind of like her. Only time will tell what really lies beneath the hardened shell now that the suit and superpowers are gone.

“You were right, doll. The pancakes are decent enough,” Ben mentions, clearing his throat once more, and Y/N wonders how many times he’ll actually try to earn her heed.

“Told you.”

“What do they serve tomorrow?”

“Well, I hope you like runny scrambled eggs that share the consistency of fucking diarrhea,” Y/N snorts a giggle, hearing him laugh softly, too.

“I don’t,” Ben chuckles and licks his plush lips, his stare intensifying. “But you said you pulled some strings to get me burgers, right? Think you can do that again?”

Y/N briefly glances up from her literature to lift an amused eyebrow. “We’ll see,” she shrugs, the mischief gleaming in her eyes and smile, “Depends on how many favors you wanna owe me.”

Pursing his plump lips, his head bobs as he suppresses a laugh. “You’re spunky. I like that. I’m sure we could come to some sort of a… deal, doll,” Ben notes, the baritone voice laced with a hint of flirtation as his mossy green eyes show a newfound hunger – but certainly not for the food on his plate.

“You wish,” Y/N laughs and is even a little surprised to see her rejection doesn’t bother him all that much.

“Alright, your loss,” he relents and swallows lightly, wiping his palms on his thighs under the table. “So, uh, can you just tell me something?”

“Uhm, sure, I guess so.” She nods encouragingly, noticing his change in demeanor, sadness and fear suddenly festering in his orbs.

“How long was I-…” Ben stops, swallows thicker this time, and then tries again, “What-, uhm, what year is it? How long did they put me in that fucking box again?”

Y/N stumps, not expecting that sort of question, and a bit of anger bubbles up inside her chest. She figured the CIA had at least briefed him before throwing him in here. “Oh, uh… not that long,” she shares, sending him a reassuring smile, “Three years. It’s 2025. You haven’t missed that much, except for a few bad movies and even more awful reality TV shows.”

Fucking Mallory… Not telling him after what he’s already been through in Russia just seems downright cruel.

“And apparently, a cure for Compound V,” the infamous hero adds with a joking huff. “So, uhm, what do people do around here all day for some fucking fun?” he inquires and then mutters bitterly, “Except for not trying to fucking hang themselves…”

Y/N chortles at his obvious abhorrence for the clinic. “Well, most patients here go to therapy, group or single,” she informs him. “But I already know you’re not ready for that yet.”

“Try fucking never,” he scoffs his repulsion for mental health.

“Otherwise, there’s, uh, board games, a library, movies and TV shows in the common room... Couple of months ago, we even got a VoughtPlay 5 and some cool video games. There’s also a gym, which you’re not allowed in yet, by the way. And well, there’s even a spa with a pool and an arts and crafts room,” she tells him patiently without looking up from her book, aware neither of those things will pique his interest in the slightest. “I doubt they’ll give you access to scissors right now, though. But hey, there’s still glue and glitter.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“Nope.”

“Why doesn’t that fucking bitch just fucking kill me,” he murmurs under his breath and stabs his pancake with his fork, his jaw locking tight with resentment.

“Who? Grace Mallory?” Y/N checks and finally meets his gaze, having noticed some tension between them when they dropped him off, although she’s not sure if he isn’t just simply blaming the CIA agent for his current status. “No love lost between you two, huh?”

Soldier Boy scoffs darkly, “Yeah, you could say that. That dyke’s still bitter I turned her down for a fuck in the 80s.”

Y/N purses her lips, now wishing he hadn’t opened his mouth at all. “Yeah, uh-huh, why don’t I quite believe you…”

His brow forms angry v-shaped creases at her response, his knuckles turning white around the cutlery in his large fist. “Are you calling me a fucking liar?”

“Kinda the essence of my statement, yes.”

His upper lip twitches in offense, averting his glare to the view outside the clear window. “You’re fucking one of them, aren’t you?”

“Who? A lesbian?” Y/N arches an eyebrow and laughs. “Yo gramps, just because a woman doesn’t wanna ride your wrinkly dick doesn’t make her gay. It just makes her smart.”

“You fucking stupid cunt,” he snaps, nostrils flaring as he brews up a storm in his chest and shows her the monster that slumbers within. She knew it was just a matter of time till it reared its ugly head. “You know, you should be grateful someone like me is even talking to someone as pathetic as you at all. No man would wanna fuck you anyway, princess. You ain’t that fucking pretty.”

“Ouch… Oh no, please don’t hurt my feelings,” Y/N mocks with a sarcastic pout, laughing, and grabs her empty tray, rising from her chair. “I can already see you’re gonna make a lot of friends here. Man, I bet the people in your life always hated you… Guess what? There’s a reason for that. No wonder your own ex and your so-called team sold you out to the fucking Russians,” she huffs harshly, turning to leave. “Now, excuse me. I don’t wanna be late for my backgammon date. Unlike you, people actually like me and are not just pretending to outta fear. Which, by the way, you don’t have that leverage anymore either, so truly good luck. Have fun being alone for the rest of your miserable life, you fucking wimp.”

Maybe he’s just a fucking asshole, a hopeless basket case, after all.

It’s late at night, the full moon standing high and beaming in through her bedroom window when Y/N reaches the last few pages of Virginia Woolf’s To The Lighthouse. Her mind, however, constantly wanders back to Soldier Boy. She knows she overstepped and crossed a line, getting unnecessarily angry with him. She should’ve resisted the urge to stoop to his level. After all, what kind of person does that make her? Who would start an argument with a 106-year-old grandpa? Of course, his views would be bigoted and outdated. It’s like picking a fight with a grave, just screaming meaningless words at a cold headstone.

‘No, she thought, one could say nothing to nobody. The urgency of the moment always missed its mark. Words fluttered sideways and struck the object inches too low.’ – Virginia Woolf.

There’s a reason patience is considered a virtue, and unfortunately, Y/N has always possessed very little of it since she was a child. Blame it on the years of abuse and mistrust she’s suffered. Her defense mechanism is probably as strong as the former hero’s, her heart guarded by razor-sharp barbed wire. She knows all too well that change takes time, and Ben is admittedly experiencing a lot of that right now and really going through it.

For how long has he been a supe? An adored celebrity? An icon? How long has he relied on his powers, his strength, his stamina, and the fact that no one and nothing could hurt him? God, it’s been probably more than 80 years at this point, and while Y/N once had powers of her own, she can barely imagine what that must feel like – to lose something you’ve had and loved for decades and then be reduced to nothing and no one. She never wanted her own abilities to begin with, but Ben did. He chose that life willingly, just like she chose to have a life without.

Moreover, no one in this facility here is innocent. They’re all assholes, addicts, thieves, rapists, and murderers. They’ve all done things they shouldn’t have, made unforgivable mistakes, crossed too many lines, or lived recklessly without regard for others. That’s why they ended up here in the first place. They’re all guilty of something. Every single one of them, including her.

Sighing deeply, Y/N gets off the bed and slips her bare feet into her fluffy slippers. Maybe she should’ve listened to Mallory when that woman told her she’d have her work cut out for herself with this moronic bastard. Maybe she shouldn’t care this much. Maybe she should be the bigger person and take the high road. Maybe he’s wrong and old, but that doesn’t make her right, either. Maybe she should apologize, albeit she doesn’t really mean it.

One minute, two seconds, and three knocks later, she’s waiting for an answer by his door. She takes four deep breaths; it’s still silent. She tries five more times before pulling out her phone, turning the flashlight on, and shining it through the small glass cut-out for six anxious heartbeats.

Orange pill bottle. Pair of scissors. Pool of blood. Maybe he’s gone before she even counts to ten.

Chapter 2: papercuts

Welp, see ya! Happy Easter, folks ✌️🐰 *sneaks off to safehouse*

Tag Lists:

Everything J (Prologue & Chapter 1 only): @extraterrestriali @this-is-me19 @writercole @awkward-and-indecisive @eevvvaa @panicking-outside-the-disco @globetrotter28 @imherefordeanandbones @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @xlynnbbyx @jassackles @maggiegirl17 @perpetualabsurdity @deans-spinster-witch @deandreamernp @foxyjwls007 @roseblue373 @lyarr24 @deanwanddamons @deanwithscissors @mrsjenniferwinchester @justrealizedimmascifygurl @akshi8278 @flamencodiva @chriszgirl92 @wittyboldsoul @djs8891 @leigh70 @snowlovespie @b3autyfuldisast3r @ladysparkles78 @muhahaha303 @mimaria420 @creepzeyecandy @iamsapphine

Rehab Series: @eevvvaa @deans-spinster-witch @iamsapphine @jessjad @suckitands33 @ladysparkles78 @spalady26 @zepskies @syrma-sensei @muchamusedaboutnothing @deansbbyx @stoneyggirl2 @zannemes @foxyjwls007​

Note: Wanna be on the series tag and don’t see yourself yet? Lemme know! Everything J won’t be tagged anymore after Chapter 1.

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Hellooo! Any exciting WIPs?? Hope you’re all goodddd 🥰 Are you excited ab the SB prequel?? I’m so pumped hehe

-🕊️

Hello lovely dove! So nice to see you in my inbox!

I am SO incredibly pumped for Vought Rising!! I think it's going to be epic. It just kills me that we probably won't get it until like early 2026 at best. 😩 In the meantime though, we'll get more Soldier Boy in S5 and more Jensen in Tracker and Countdown. 😍🤩

As to my WIPs, when I'm done my current series Things Learned and Unlearned, I'll be working on finishing my Dean fantasy AU, The Quicksilver Princess, which won the poll for next series to finish. Then after that (in early September) I'll be working on my Soldier Boy series, Let Me See Inside until it's complete.

For one shots, I still have a few requests to tackle, including a fun sexy one about a Stanford era Dean, and another angel!reader x Dean one.

Also, brewing in my filthy brain is a third (and probably final?) installment to complete my Say Thank You and Say Please, Soldier Boy x Reader One Shots. It's called Say You're Sorry. Here's a tiny excerpt:

Ben stared down at Y/N where she kneeled in front of him, and she bit her lip as her stomach lurched in fear. Not of him. Not of what he was going to do to her.

Her fear was that he really couldn't forgive this, that he'd walk away for good.

"I'm sorry." She whispered. "I'm so sorry, Ben. Please."

His gaze was scorching and Y/N couldn't tell if the heat came from his simmering rage or from the rock hard bulge behind his zipper.

"You're sorry?" He reached down to grab her chin in a bruising grip. "Then fucking prove it."

Still working on that one, but hopefully my filthy, trashy muses work their magic. 😁

Thanks so much for the ask! I hope you have a fabulous weekend. 🥰

[dollerinna]

I WANT TO F**K YOU LIKE AN ANIMAL .

( black noir x fem supe!reader )

summary: the not-so-innocent things that go on in noir’s head abt you during The Seven meetings (wc: 1.8k)

warnings: MDNI, dub-con, rough p in v, doggy style, primal play themes, size kink, gagging, sobbing, corruption kink, Homelander being a weirdo at the end… just a lil’

first fic on this blog and I lowkey hate it- ughhh sorry if it’s all over the place!

The morning sun cast its golden glow upon the Manhattan skyline as The Seven assembled in their meeting room.

Homelander paced before them, detailing some new initiative he had conceived, but his words rang as emptily as the void behind his eyes. The Deep hung on his every syllable, eager as ever to prove his ass-kissing self with poorly-timed quips. This earned him nothing but a withering side-eye.

A-Train and Maeve listened with feigned interest, checking out of the conversation all but in body. Noir sat apart, idly fidgeting with a pen as his mind wandered. But his attention was drawn not to the usual faces, for there was a new supe among them—you, the latest fresh-faced recruit to their team.

On the surface, you appeared the absolute picture of attention—eyes forward, laser focused on Homelander as he tiresomely outlined the team's objectives.

It was cute, really, how focused the newbies always strived to be. Yet beneath the facade, you were actually anything but so, not when you felt an unseen gaze assessing you, weighing you.

Flicking your eyes discreetly aside, you confirmed a suspicion you could smell from miles away: Noir watching from across the table, his expression shrouded as ever behind the visor of his helmet.

Ugh, talk about creepy.

A subtle flutter of your eyelids shifted your line of sight, choosing to trust that his thousand-yard stare just so casually happen to drift your way and not an attempt to burn his gaze into your very soul.

Besides, what else could the guy possibly think about? Training, orders from Vought, simple pastimes—usually, such painfully mundane, run-of-the-mill thoughts occupied him.

But little did you know in this moment, as he studied your presence from afar, his mental reflections took a turn less… innocent.

─────────────────

“N-Noir… mmph-… please…”

It wasn’t his doing, he didn’t ask to be plagued with this sickly obsession; but every time he heard your voice, it was as if sweet, smooth-spun sugar had come alive.

An alien lust scorched Noir’s consciousness, catapulting his fevered mind into unfamiliar territory. Try as he might, he couldn’t shake the sinful thoughts that stubbornly stuck to him like glue. Just the mere notion of ever being responsible for those pretty little sounds was enough for arousal to creep through his veins like a nasty virus, sapping what was left of his crumbling self-control.

Your every whine, your every moan, would be a siren's call that beckoned him to claim you, to strip away your composure until you were utterly, helplessly his. All he craved was to watch the light in your eyes dwindle, to witness your breaths dampening into shallow puffs of air that blanketed your gaze in a veil of fog, gradually muffling you into a stillness even quieter than he was.

And truthfully, it wasn’t a matter of whether you liked it or not.

Noir would ensure his touch left no room for refusal, his grasp iron-hard as he positioned your trembling, naked body on the floor to his liking—face pinned down, ass arched up, just as it should be. Yet even as he held you fast with a palm braced against your sweat-slicked spine, his other hand moved with a surprising tenderness, gently teasing loose and brushing apart the knotted strands of hair clung to your ruddied features.

He imagined the merest of touches would set your blood aflame, rumbling up a ripe groan from your core. “…Oh m-my god… fuck…” words fled your mouth on airless breaths, nearly inaudible but still enough for him to catch. In response, he’d slowly lift a finger to your glistening lips, accompanied by a soundless ‘shh’—a signal for you to behave.

After all, good girls should never cuss.

Large, strong hands would then greedily paw at the lush fat of your ass cheeks, the scratchy textured fabric of his gloves leaving blooms of red across your flesh. Spreading you open, he’d admire the way your juicy, moist folds parted slightly, the aching emptiness within your entrance eliciting an involuntary clenching—your muted moans, trapped in your throat, acting as a wordless plea for more of his touch, more of him.

He liked to think you’d be mere putty in his hands, before he was even close to fucking you.

Noir would take his sweet time exploring you, his curiosity of the human form eclipsing the immediate need to quell a white-hot carnal desire every red-blooded man gets. He was good at rearranging people’s insides, literally, but what if he flipped the script in a much different way?

Experimentally, he’d run the very tip of his gloved finger along the weeping slit of your sex, ghosting ever so lightly over your swollen, hypersensitive clit to collect your slick arousal. Then, without warning, he’d dip an entire digit into your quivering depths, reveling in the way your spongy muscles squeezed and welcomed him in.

Your breath would hitch at the intrusion, skin prickling with a visceral need as you eagerly shoved your rear back against his palm, craving more. However, just as swiftly, he would withdraw his hand, bringing it close to his face to observe it covered in your juices, inspecting how the slimy, milky-white essence connected a trail between his fingers.

Who knew light fondling and agonizing silence was all the foreplay you needed? (or at least, in Noir’s fanciful pornographic depictions of you)

Once done playing with his food, he’d drag his knees closer to your body, his hips flush against your ass, leaving your peripheral vision filled with nothing but his imposing, darkly-clad figure dwarfing your own. Without hesitation, he’d reach down to remove the codpiece off him, freeing his hefty cock which sprang forth in the air, where it stood rock-hard, veiny, and impossibly large.

Wrapping a hand around himself, the thickly-roped, buzzing veins were betrayed by each gritty pull of his glove, drawing a guttural grunt from behind his balaclava. He’d guide his erection between your warm folds, the engorged ridge of his tip prodding against your bundle of nerves, sending electric jolts of pleasure to crackle through your core, before he began to sheathe himself inside you with a push that drove him home.

With a grip possessive and firm around your waist, Noir quickly fell into a steady, almost robotic rhythm of sturdy pushes and pulls. Each punishing collision of your bodies was answered by the lewd, rapid sounds of skin-on-skin, making damn sure you felt every single inch of him as he rutted into you like a man possessed.

He’d only hope to see you struggle taking him all in, envisioning how the sheer scale of his size forced the very air out from your gasping lungs.

“P-Please Noir!… ngh-… my body can’t handle this much,” your once-lovely voice now ragged and frail, scraping sobs grinding your vocal cords near silence as you churned and coiled like a fawn caught in the clutches of a big, bad wolf. “Be gentle, I’m begging you!—-” You choked out weakly, bordering on a soft, pitiful whine.

Expectantly, a weighted silence followed suit from Noir. In his typical, unsparing fashion, he slipped a glove from his hand, jamming it into your mouth and effectively gagging you into silence, as if to say—pipe down, be a good girl, and take my cock like you’re supposed to.

Even without a single word uttered by him, it worked like absolute fucking magic.

Your torso would practically collapse under the onslaught, wobbly limbs giving way as you let Noir use your arched up, offering form like a personal fleshlight. His hips would retract further back in an excruciating slowness, simply marveling at your wetness coating the base of his member like a second skin, only to slam back into you with raw vigor.

Your tight, gummy walls would be offered absolutely no time to adjust to the relentless invasion of his girth, the sheer thickness of his cock forcefully stretching out your cunt to shape him, to the point it felt like he was trying to split you into two.

He’d yank your flexing thighs back to meet his brutal series of thrusts, burying himself into you to the very tilt as the fleshy head of his cock kissed your cervix, igniting a searing white bolt of static to lance through your vision, momentarily fracturing it.

The all-consuming, dizzying sensation hit you like a ton of bricks, toppling your senses and wrenching a strangled sob out from your slack jaw once more. This earned you another biting touch from Noir’s thumbs pressed into your sides, as if seeking to wring every gasp out of your chest, to hear your moans rattle through your ribcage.

However even your rawest cries were swiftly muffled, swallowed by the balled-up glove shoved roughly between your teeth, which reduced you to nothing more than a gagging, pleasure-drunk whore for him to claim.

─────────────────

Meanwhile…

“Welp, that about covers it for today,” Homelander announced with a thunderous clap, loud enough for it to ring through Noir’s ears and bring him back to the present.

Slowly, Noir spun his head back towards Homelander, who had just finished addressing the team while his own thoughts drifted to places where even the pearly gates of heaven wouldn't give him the time of day.

“Now shoo- and no more sloppy behavior. I’ll be keeping an eye on each and every one of you.” Homelander dismissed them with a casual wave and a chuckle laced with another one of his thinly veiled threats.

As everyone, including little-miss-oblivious-you, got up to leave the meeting room, Homelander sauntered over to Noir, heartily slapping a heavy hand onto his back. “Earth to Noir! I know that look—thoughts a million miles away behind that sphinx-like mask of yours,” giving a sly little shrug, he slanted a meaningful look towards Noir’s codpiece. “But methinks, someone here isn’t as impenetrable as I thought…” A thin wry smile played his lips, a subtle hint at his x-ray vision allowing him to see a particular something-something of Noir’s that was currently just as hard as his body armor.

“It might do you good to line that suit with zinc. Wouldn't want any unwanted eyes peeking where they shouldn’t, do we?" An amused exhale, part sigh part snicker, slipped out of Homelander as his gaze swept over Noir once more.

True to form, all he received in turn was Noir’s standard muteness, as soundless as a grave.

Homelander eased the quiet with a huffed laugh, rocking back on his heels as he tilted his head in playful study of Noir. "But don't worry," he added with a knowing smirk, "it happens to the best of us. But do try to keep your head in the game! And not with your other one, ‘kay buddy?” Homelander jested in mock-reproach as he landed one last waggish, firm slap between Noir's shoulders, flashing his gleaming white yet eerily pointed grin.

Noir remained statue still, no hint of feeling betrayed by his rigid posture despite the toe-curling awkwardness of the encounter, or perhaps he'd yet to fully realize Homelander had peered within and seen his aching, raging hard-on behind the suit's facade.

Noir silently watched Homelander shoot two playful finger guns, his cape swirled shut behind him before leaving the room.

-------☆-------

Pssst- Likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated in this household and keep me motivated! <3

-------☆-------

Apologies if there are any grammatical errors here, cuz I’m alr so done with this fic 😭😭😭

[anundyingfidelity]

i stole this meme to post it here and laugh at the rightwings 😹🫵

[thesilmarillionblog]

COME CLOSER

Summary: Reader asks her friend, Soldier Boy to take her virginity.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: +18! (MINORS DNI), virgin reader!, smut, language, rough Soldier Boy, beard kink, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, friends with benefits

Word Count: 4052

A/N: English is not my first language.

You grabbed the gun from Ben's suit and placed it in your bag without even waiting for a response since you knew he wouldn't refuse you. “May I take this?” you said. “Just for safety issues.”

Ben joined the team to kill Homelander months ago, and because you two have been on missions together for so long, you two have kind of gotten to know one another. He frequently teased you, and most of the time he really got on your nerves. Another thing Butcher's wanted from you regarding Ben was to make sure you kept an eye on him while he was high or furious. 

He sighed, “You are already in safe hands,” and then gave you a little push toward the car, where Butcher and the other members of the team were waiting. “You know that you are something different. Trying to protect yourself with a firearm in spite of the fact that you already have three supes with you, me included, who are the strongest and greatest.” 

“After the job is completed, even the biggest dicks become smaller. I wonder if your gigantic ego will ever be smaller one day, Ben.”

“Not mine,” he winked at you in between his laughter before the two of you entered the car. “How on earth does a naive virgin speak like that? I must discipline your dirty mouth at some point.” 

He pushed until you reached the other side of the seat, and you muttered, “Shut up.” Your face flushed. “You leave no space for me.”

“Do I look like your personal driver?” Butcher growled at Hughie to come in too, questioned in a disapproving tone. Then Butcher turned back to Hughie, who was sitting in the passenger seat, and said, “Where the fuck is your girlfriend?”

“She arrived earlier with the others. They were driven there by Frenchie already.”

“Will you shut up and drive?” Ben messed with your hair for a while while ignoring what you said that he was going to ruin it, saying to Butcher in an irritated manner. 

“Good boy gone bad, huh?” Ben ignored you and filled the entire seat between your complaints. Butcher murmured, “Let's fucking have some fun there since we may not be finding any free time soon, Navy girlies.” 

Luckily, Butcher managed to locate a club devoid of supes, but it was still massive and insane, complete with loud music. Hughie's gaze found Annie right away, and Butcher followed after him while he winked at the girl who was staring at him with a chuckle. 

You gave Ben a drink and complained, “Do I have to babysit you?” Even though all of the girls were capturing his attention, he was undoubtedly hearing what you were saying. 

He patted your head and said, "Babysit me?" with a look of astonishment. "Sweetheart, it's me who has been watching you for several months. After all, it's easy for you to get into trouble." 

"Me?" As he messed with your hair, you giggled and attempted to push his hands away. "You're always on the verge of being furious for no reason at all, and I have to keep your ego boosted when you are about to lose it." 

"Or maybe I act it this way to get you even more anxious; what do you think? Your human face looks so funny when you're trying to calm me," he smirked and remarked with arrogance. 

Punching him in the chest, you said, "You're impossible," although your wrist ached. You sighed in agony, "Fuck, Ben," and made sure everything was okay by looking at your hand. Thankfully, there were no physical wounds. 

"Why the fuck have you tried to punch me now? Haven't you still learned I'm built to last?" he complained, gently massaging your hands. 

You muttered, "You're so annoying," while he sighed and released your hands. "I can't imagine why almost nobody likes you." 

"All you do this evening is talk rudely with that lovely mouth of yours and spit poison. Also, you are to blame. How many times do I have to tell you not to try to punch me? Wish to adopt a tough-ass persona? You're just a little sensitive, soft doll," he continued to tease, causing you to flush with rage. 

"Remember the day I gave myself a Temp-V injection? When I really punched you, you seemed rather surprised, and I'm sure it hurt." 

“I didn't think being a temporary Supe could happen, and that was a while ago.” Ben continued to smirk and replied, “Keep that in mind. I was merely trying to comprehend the change in your scent when you unexpectedly struck me and pushed me against the wall. You know, I should have been doing that. Of course, I'm not referring to the punching; rather, I'm speaking to the second one, but more gently.”

Ben flirted with you, giving you a tiny pinch on the chin and a wink. He was perhaps the most flirtatious man ever, but the reason he acted this way was that you told him you were a virgin, and even when he understood you were becoming too shy and a little anxious, he continued to tease you verbally. You didn't feel uncomfortable about it, though. 

“Whatever.” You rushed to end it, fearing he would start talking even more profanely. You tried to silence him by putting your palm over his mouth. “When are you going to shave this beard? It's really lengthy.”

He murmured, “I thought you liked it longer and thicker,” as he combed his facial hair. 

This time, instead of being annoyed, you giggled. “You're impossible.” 

You said, “I'm going to check on Annie and others,” feeling a little guilty for something you didn't even understand when you saw him searching for women who fit his tastes. “So that you can have your fun.”

Ben, who had just bought a drink for himself, approached a redhead who had been staring at him passionately ever since he entered the bar. You led the way to join Annie and the rest of the team, but you were carrying a heavy weight that you couldn't quite explain. You did your best to ignore the stupid ache in your heart and laugh out loud at Butcher's half-made-up stories. It was a rare, heartfelt moment of calm after months, shared by all of you as you briefly watched the redhead woman take Ben's head and lead him to the second floor.

Ben's social batteries ran out after a few hours, and when he got into a fight with Butcher, you volunteered to take him home in your car because you were starting to have headaches too. Annie and Kimiko were dancing in the center; it appeared like they were just getting started. Either their heightened enthusiasm was to blame, or you simply didn't feel like having fun at that particular time. Ben was the source of your annoyance because he preferred to spend his time in the club having fun with other women and left you kind of alone.

You just said, “I will drive Ben back; just stop arguing for once,” and snatched Butcher's keys. “I assume everyone will be arriving home late. It appears that Kimiko and Annie won't be calling it a night anytime soon.” After observing them for some time, they realized you were right. Kimiko was high as fuck.

Ben didn't have a shower in his own room, so he quickly took one in yours once you drove home. Surprisingly, he hasn't complained to Butcher about it in any manner, and you've allowed him to use yours anytime he needs to, even if he occasionally takes a shower a bit too frequently, leading you to believe that he does it on purpose to irritate and enrage you so that you two can argue. But no matter what, his unique word choice never failed to make you chuckle.

As he was taking care of himself in the bathroom, you considered something you had long since ignored: your virginity. You could never go one step beyond, not even if you were in your mid-20s. You just didn't want it to be just one fleeting, pointless act, and you didn't feel anything at all. Perhaps you were a shamefully traditional person who was eagerly awaiting the realization of your real fate.

Ben used to make jokes about your virginity, which you didn't mind, but tonight it kind of got under your skin and made you feel uneasy, like there was something wrong with you. It just didn't seem right at all to be a virgin in your mid-twenties. 

“You appear to be lost in thoughts. What's consuming your mind so much?” Ben queried. 

His long beard and damp hair were pouring over the floor as he emerged from the bathroom, his thick, muscular belly wrapped in a towel. Your eyebrows are raised between your sighs. Though you always knew he was extremely attractive, he seemed even more so at this moment. 

Ben glanced at your short dress too, seeing that you were staring at him as your lips parted slightly in a hint of yearning. He smirked, conceited, seeing your legs pushed together. 

“I think I can make a guess.” He walked over to sit on the bed next to you and mumbled. 

You hesitantly said, “I was thinking something,” not quite sure what to say exactly. 

“About?”

You abruptly asked, trying not to flush too much as you moved the bed and fully turned your body to face him. “Would you take my virginity?” 

Ben exclaimed, “What?” with his lips parted in wonder as he tried to understand what you meant and raised an eyebrow. 

“You already heard me.” 

Ben laughed and ignored your request, saying, “Are you drunk or do you need to jerk off? You're going to be a good nun when you grow up.”

“I'm serious here,” you said, blushing red from embarrassment and rage at the fact that the fact that he didn't take you seriously at all.

Ben's mocking expression changed to one of confusion as he realized you were serious. “I thought you were waiting for the love of your life or something. Why did you change your mind all of a sudden?”

“I wasn't waiting for someone,” you denied right away. “I decided being like this bothers me, and I want to change it.”

You continued, “We have known each other for months, and I think we kind of formed a good friendship during this time,” before he said anything, you added, “It must be okay to ask your friend for help, and it's better than to be with a total stranger, right?”

“I'm not the right person to share something like that.” Ben said in a serious tone, “I don't know why you made this decision so quickly, but you'll regret it tomorrow, I promise. If you are horny, I can give fingerfuck you, though.” It was clear that he was not hearing you clearly. 

“It's not really that significant, is it? I didn't wait for someone right away, as I had said. If I knew I would regret saying it, I wouldn't have said it in the first place. What's the purpose of friends?”

Hesitantly, you reached out to touch his damp arms to gauge his reaction while also conveying your concern. You felt your small confidence begin to fade as you noticed he was staring at you with the same expression, so you brought your hands back to yourself. “Well, of course I won't try to convince you to take my virginity if you don't want to get into such an intimate interaction with me,” you said, trying not to seem offended or disappointed. “It's a different issue.”

Your heart raced under your thin dress as you anxiously awaited his response. 

“I would fuck you with pleasure; it's not that I don't want it,” he added, examining your bare legs and breasts as they rose and fell in time with your heavy breaths. He whispered, placing his rough palms on your chin. “But I can't promise it won't hurt, and I don't want it to be just a one-time thing.”

You muttered, “I know it's going to hurt,” and at last he relaxed and seemed to agree. 

He smirked and continued, “I'll fuck your cunt whenever I want,” staring right into your eyes and making you tremble at the sensation. “You'll spread your legs for me and beg me to fuck you.”

“It's better,” you said as his hand lowered to your throat, causing you to become even more thrilled. You chuckled awkwardly and murmured, “Practice makes perfect, right?”

Your lips parted in ecstasy as his thumb massaged your hardened nipple, and he gently pinched it between his fingers through your dress. He didn't even slightly break eye contact with you, as if he wanted to watch every move you made. 

Ben mumbled, “I wonder if you're dripping under there already,” as he climbed on top of you. Feeling uncertain about what action to take, you placed your quivering hands on his large chest. 

His palm stroked your pussy through your underpants, and you clenched around nothing, murmuring, “I feel like it.” You were already embarrassingly drenched; you knew that. 

“Ben,” you murmured quickly, and his hand instantly froze there. He stared at you, confused, not knowing if you wanted to stop or not. You grabbed his wrist and stopped him just as he was about to return his hand to himself. “Can you do the entire job for tonight” you said in a hesitant manner. “I have absolutely no idea what to do.”

Ben surprised you with a kiss on the forehead and said, “Of course I'll do the entire job. You just lay down and relax. I'm going to take care of you well, okay?”

You nodded quickly, trusting that Ben knew what to do when he started to rub your pussy through your underwear again. Your hips rose higher to meet his movements as he played with your clit with a gentle thumb. “Let's get rid of your dress, huh?” he said, helping you to remove it from your body. You were lying under him naked, except for your underwear.

You wanted to hide your body with your hands because you felt a little shy, but you forced yourself to look at him with courage because you wanted this to be good. Even if he was already erect under the towel, he ignored his own needs to give you the pleasure you needed first.

Then he pinched your nipples once more and added, “You have such lovely tits.” Before you could respond, he put his warm lips on one of your tits and started sucking, giving you very light bites. You were a little scared that he could harm you because you had a big power imbalance since he was a supe, but you chose to put your trust in him because you knew he had experience having intercourse with normal people just like you.

As he continued licking both of your nipples, you placed your hands behind his hair and pulled. You pushed his head to your tit as you raised your hip to match his movement, but you moaned loudly when he ripped off your panties and inserted one of his meaty fingers inside of you slowly, even though you were trying really hard not to scream. It was difficult to take even one finger, so tears welled up in your eyes, but you didn't want to ruin the moment.

Groaning, “Fuck, you are tighter than I expected,” he lifted his head.

When he noticed your pained expression, he began to gently massage your clit with his thumb once again. Thankfully, this helped you feel better, and after a while, you began to slowly tighten around his finger.

He asked in a rough voice, “Do you like me fingering you?” and continued to push his finger in and out. “Your pussy is so adorable and swollen. You so desperately need me to fuck you raw.”

He commanded, “Tell me it's just for me,” tensing up his motions as you continued to tighten around his finger.

You said, “Just for you,” and he attempted to press another finger, but you were simply too tense to take it. You said, “Ben, be slow,” in a panic.

“In order for you to take me easier, we need to properly prepare your little pussy. Now spread your legs and don't cover that adorable cunt,” he gave another command. It was then that you realized you were attempting to press your legs together.

You spread your legs so he could see you as per the directions he gave. You let out a loud cry of pleasure and agony as he carefully inserted another finger. Ben swallowed your groans and stretched you with two fingers, his warm lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss.

You were moaning inside his mouth while his tongue and fingers dominated you. Ben felt your wetness on his fingers, your hips rising to match his rhythm, and he felt like he might come without even touching himself.

With a harsh voice, he commanded, “Cum on my fingers,” and proceeded to fuck you while your walls tensed up. With a loud moan and his name between your lips, you nailed his biceps while he watched you orgasm under his touch. “Good girl. You are so easy to make cum. Fuck, you're a needy one.”

You continued orgasming and wetting them while Ben held your fingers within. Even though your pussy felt extremely sensitive, he continued to finger you without giving you a minute's break after your climax had passed.

“Ben, it feels sensitive.”

“Fucking take it,” he growled. “You'll come as much as I want you to.”

You muttered, “I don't think I can,” as your legs continued to shake uncontrollably.

“You can and you will,” Ben responded, and he proceeded to fuck you even more forcefully than before.

The bedroom was filled with obscene noises, and your eyes welled up with tears of pleasure.

“Cum to me,” he commanded again, and you instantly clenched around his fingers. Putting your hands over his head, you kissed him, pressing your lips to his in an attempt to stop your moans.

As you orgasmed, you sensed him grinning slightly against your lips throughout the kiss. He whispered, “You're so fucking tight, you're almost going to lock me inside your pussy,” as you calmed down after your climax subsided. “I guess you're ready now.”

Your eyes widened with fear and dread as he removed the towel from his belly and threw it to the ground, revealing his firm cock. Ben began to give himself brief strokes while spreading your legs apart. Aware of your discomfort, he smiled slightly at you. “I'll do my best to be gentle. You're enough soaked already.”

You nodded to him, waiting tensely as you watched him pump himself between his rough hands. You tensed up abruptly as the tip of his cock touched your entrance, and he took himself in hand after giving it enough strokes.

He said, “Relax,” and kept pushing the tip inside. “Fuck, take it already.”

You attempted to let him in, your legs trembling with desire and dread, but you couldn't stop clenching.

You whimpered, your eyes welling with tears, as he thrust his cock inside with a forceful move. You also pulled his hair around his neck. Your hips were being held in place by his hands, preventing you from moving them. You were certain that it would bruise badly.

You cried out in fear, “Ben,” as he persisted in pushing. Tears fell from the corner of your eyes onto the covers when you were nailing his arms.

He groaned, “Calm down,” and gave you some time to relax. “It's just the head.”

“Sorry,” you said, ashamed that you weren't able to bear pain and adding unnecessary difficulty to the procedure.

His eyes widened at the sight of your face, and he planted a gentle kiss on your forehead. He whispered, “Hey, it's okay. You take me so good, so warm,” in between kisses and proceeded to place his cock inside of you once more. You knew it was a major step for you when you felt like he broke your hymen. This time, his hands gently remained on your hips as he sensed a change in your feelings.

Thank goodness, you relaxed between his kisses and compliments, and your wetness allowed him to enter at last. Ben gave you time to get used to his size after his cock completely filled your insides.

After planting another hard kiss on your lips, he asked, “Are you okay now?” and stroked your cheeks. 

You responded, “I'm okay,” as the agony lessened and you began to get pleasure from his cock pulsing inside of you. 

Ben put his hands on the sheets, and as he started to move slowly inside of you, you locked your legs around his hip. 

He groaned, “You're so tight around me,” as he began to move faster. “I should have fucked you sooner.”

He gave you quick kisses, and his bushy beard tickled your chin as he began to fuck you quickly and roughly. “I'll turn this little cunt addicted to my cock.”

As you continued to moan beneath him, he gave another order: “Tell me you want me to fuck you hard.”

You murmured, “Please,” and he slowed down. 

Ben wrapped his hand around your neck and said, “Beg me properly,” but he wasn't using force against you. 

You sighed, “Fuck me hard, please, Ben.” You moaned as you saw his mucsles stretching as he continued to penetrate you quickly and roughly. Your hands nailed his chest and broad abdomen. 

He put your legs on his shoulders and stated, “I'm going to fuck you every day; make you my little cumslut. Do you enjoy having your friend fuck you? Does this turn you on?”

When he kept talking filth, you couldn’t stop clenching around his cock.

He moaned, “Fuck,” in between hard strokes. “Look at this pussy clench. You really get turned on by it.”

Ben intensified his movements as your legs trembled with pleasure around his hips, and you felt your climax strike with a loud moan and a cunning sneer on his face. You tried biting your lip to muffle the moans, but it was difficult as Ben fucked you raw, on top of you, dominating your whole body. 

He whispered, “I'm going to fuck your face another time,” and put his thumb inside your mouth. “Suck it. Prove to me how much you crave my cock inside your mouth.”

You groaned in displeasure as he slowed. Ben strictly said, “Suck it, show me how badly you want my cock inside your mouth, and I'll fuck you as you need,” when you lifted your hips to get him to return to his previous rhythm. 

With the expectation that he would like it, you put your lips around his thumb and started to lick it with your tongue. 

He mumbled, “Fuck yes, gonna cum inside that mouth,” and started fucking you quickly and roughly once more. 

He muttered, “Almost there,” and continued to fuck you while staring at your bouncing tits. 

His hardness continued to throb inside of you as you tightened around him one more time and orgasmed. He moaned and spilled inside of you, filling you with his thick and warm ropes. 

Ben continued to fill your pussy as your climax subsided. You felt incredibly satisfied because you felt so full of his seed. 

When he was finished, he carefully pulled out his cock, exposing the blood at the tip. Ben gave you a long, hard kiss on the lips when he noticed you were staring at it. 

You offered him a tiny smile as he whispered, “Come closer,” and he embraced you with his large arms. “Are you alright?” 

You continued to stroke his beard while responding, “Yes.” Actually, you've never felt better.

You can check my MASTERLIST for more.

[torncolourfultights]

kimiko miyashiro

[thelirofnorthlands]

A little appreciation post for these divine men … In my humble opinion-Gods gift to humanity 🫠🫠🫠

These two can call me in the middle of the night asking me to hide a body … and dear god I’ll dig the hole myself… naked 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

With season 4 around the corner let us all brave women and men brace ourselves for some Fanny flutters from these two fine not so gentlemen.

Further more .. a lil fun for the masses

(I do not own any of the photos or gifs) Credit to original creators ❤️❤️❤️🫡

[zepskies]

Hi Zep! For the WIP game, can I ask about Lost on You?

Of course, Battie! Thank you for asking. 💜😘

Lost on You (Soldier Boy x Supe!Reader) is an idea I've developed and expanded on from this Soldier Boy imagine:

Soldier Boy dating a supe with siren abilities. 🧜‍♀️ He underestimates you. You give him a reason to think twice.

I've written Soldier Boy/Ben paired with a normal human in Break Me Down, which is set in the "present," or post-season 3. You're so very good at writing Soldier Boy in the past (40s and 80s), but for me, I thought it would be an even harder challenge to write something set in the '80s -- 1983 in this case.

He's still in his prime as alpha male supe at Vought, at the height of his glory, so to speak, with all the assholery and debauchery that's gonna entail. 😂

Here's some more detail on the premise:

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

Song Inspo: “Lost on You” by the Cubaneros (originally by LP)

(Speaking of music inspo lol^) And because I'm extra, I created the thumbnail before I've even finished writing the outline, also for inspo:

(I'm still working on the outline for this one, so I don't have a release date yet. But I'll keep you guys updated when I'm ready to start posting!)

[k-slla]

So I just totally binged the whole series for the first time when I saw that last time stamp notification and I absolutely LOVED it. Everything about it. It is really amazing and I recommend it to anyone who hasn't yet read it. 💕

Thunder In Our Hearts Masterlist

Summary: While attempting to break out of the facility she’s been trapped in, the reader discovers Soldier Boy, knowing he’s her only way out alive. After an explosive escape, the pair strike a deal. He kills who she wants, she finds the location of who he wants dead while helping him get used to the modern world. But the pair have more in common than they’d like to admit and forced proximity has a way of making even assholes seem like they aren’t the bad guy…

Pairing: Soldier Boy x reader

Word Count: 28.5K

Warnings: language, nudity, violence, drug/abuse/sexual assault/torture mentions, male masturbation, smut

A/N: There will be spoilers for Season 3 of The Boys in this one. It picks up about a week after the end of Season 3. This series is complete!…

_______

Part 1

Part 2 

Part 3 

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

He Knows Timestamp

You’re Losing Me Timestamp

[wayward-dreamer]

Far From Innocent - Part 1

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female!Reader

Word count: 3,976

Summary: Y/N's life is quite simple. She's engaged to be married in a few months, she has the easiest job at Vought American, and she stays out of the drama or away from rumors she's heard around the office. An encounter with Soldier Boy, Vought's most respected hero, quickly changes all of that and she soon realizes that there's more to life than what she's settled for. (Set in the 50s)

Warnings: Angst, swearing, degrading language, typical 1950s misogyny, sexual thoughts, thoughts of cheating, drinking, smoking, drug use, smut (not with reader): threesome, ffm, p in v, oral sex (female receiving), voyeurism

A/N: This was all incredibly fun to write, to the point where it kept getting longer, and therefore I decided to split it up. Next part will be out in a few days. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it and happy reading! beta'd by my darling @hintsofhoney

The myriad of champagne and soft jazz was the only thing keeping Y/N entertained.

Her eyes drifted away from the band at the opposite end of the large foyer, over the guests that were in attendance at whatever gala it was, before they landed on her drink. Picking up the coupe glass, she threw back the remainder of the bubbly liquid as she looked at the bar, longing for something stronger. She wasn’t sure if she should, knowing that her fiancé didn’t like it when she overdid things, but considering he had gone off to smoke cigars with his co-workers, she figured it didn’t really matter. Leaving her glass behind on the table for a waiter to take away, she picked up her purse and made her way across the room, excusing herself as she pushed past some of the guests.

She reached the bar and waited as the bartender served a few other people, opening her purse, taking out her silver cigarette case and holder. She fit the cigarette into the holder and placed it in her mouth, digging through her purse as she tried to find her lighter.

“What can I get you, ma’am?” the bartender asked, as he approached her across the ledge.

Ma’am? What did she look like, 50? “Miss,” she corrected, mumbling around the holder in her mouth, “and an Old Fashioned, please.”

“Sure thing,” he replied, with a firm nod.

“God damnit,” she cursed under her breath as she peered inside her purse, seeing no lighter.

“Make that two,” she heard a rough, deep voice say as it stood beside her.

“Yes sir,” the bartender said, working on the drinks.

She lifted her head to see who had joined her at the bar, and the cigarette holder nearly fell as her mouth hung open. Her eyes widened briefly as she took in green and gold encasing strong muscles, her gaze meeting the green orbs that stared back at her. She cleared her throat as she took the holder from between her lips, smiling widely at the incredible presence in front of her.

“Soldier Boy,” she gasped, laughing lightly as she held her hand out. “It’s a pleasure, sir.”

“It sure can be, sugar,” he smirked, holding up a lighter for her.

She wasn’t completely sure what he was implying, but she felt her cheeks heat up, nonetheless. She leaned forward, letting the small flame burn the tip of the cigarette as she inhaled, blowing out a large puff as she glanced back at him.

“Thank you,” she said, only briefly meeting his gaze. His green eyes were intense as he stared at her, leaning against the dark mahogany of the bar, his own cigarette resting between his fingers.

“A beautiful woman like yourself shouldn’t be getting a drink alone,” he stated, the smirk still present on his unbelievably handsome face. His eyes wandered down her figure, admiring the deep red, off-shoulder pencil dress, the draping cinched in at the waist with a thin belt. “That’s quite a dress.”

“I’m-I’m not alone,” she sighed, the words sounding false considering she didn’t know where fiancé was.

Soldier Boy glanced around and behind her, before meeting her eyes again. “I don’t see anyone else here with ya, doll.”

“I-”

“Y/N!” she heard her name being called just as she was about to give an excuse.

She turned her attention away from the supe for a brief moment, smiling softly as her fiancé walked over to her, a new drink in one hand and a half-smoked cigar in the other. He stepped up beside her, pressing a small kiss to her cheek, just as her eyes quickly flicked up to the other man still standing in front of them.

“Sir, this is-” she began but her fiancé cut her off, offering his hand to Soldier Boy.

“Soldier Boy, it’s an honor sir,” he said, waiting for the supe to give him some sort of acknowledgement. “I’m Jim Nelson, from the Vought production office, we worked on The Soldier Boy Story together.”

“Of course,” he nodded, finally placing his hand in Jim’s, shaking it firmly. “Thanks for all the great work, kid.”

Y/N watched on as Jim touched around his wrist; clearly the handshake had been harder than he expected. She looked between the two men, noting that Soldier Boy’s face was stoic, void of any kind of emotion towards Jim. She took a long drag from the cigarette holder, blowing it out slowly as remained silent, observing as she always did. That’s when you learn the most about people.

“This is Y/N, my fiancée,” Jim finally introduced her, even though she and the superhero were already semi-acquainted. “She works in administration. She just moved up to your floor, actually.”

“Really?” Soldier Boy’s full attention was suddenly on her. He didn’t even bother to hide his delight in learning that fact, the smile returning to his features. “Well, I certainly won’t forget a face as pretty as yours.”

Their eyes met once more, his green orbs still burning with intensity, causing her face to heat up. She felt it move down her neck and into her limbs, the feeling settling low in her belly. She had only felt something like it once before, and it was during a moment of weakness she would rather forget. In that moment, she ignored whatever it was, taking a sip of the amber liquid she still hadn’t touched.

“She is gorgeous, isn’t she?” Jim commented, wrapping his arm tightly around her waist, and pulling her close, looking between the supe and her.

“She is,” Soldier Boy agreed, but he didn’t look towards the other man at all. “I’m glad we’ll be seeing more of each other.”

Her knees almost buckled under his penetrating stare, the warmth continuing to simmer. She didn’t understand why she was feeling this way, especially around someone who wasn’t the man she was marrying in two months’ time. It didn’t make any sense. She suddenly felt Jim’s hand pressing more firmly into her hip, making her look up at his face. He smiled but she could see he wasn’t happy with the attention she had received from Vought’s most respected.

“Well, we really should be going,” he announced, glancing down at her before he looked back at Soldier Boy. “Gotta be back here bright and early tomorrow.”

Soldier Boy said nothing as he sipped his drink, his gaze shifting between both of them. Y/N dropped her eyes to her own drink, barely sipped, but she put it down on the bar knowing that they needed to leave. She fixed her long, white cocktail gloves, picked up her purse and finally looked back at the supe, her arm around her fiancé’s.

“Goodnight, sir,” she said, softly.

He gave her a small nod, watching them make their way towards the exit. They stopped at one of the tables, allowing her to pick up her white shawl and drape it around her exposed shoulders, before they continued towards the other end of the room. Just as they stepped through the archway, Y/N turned her head, their eyes meeting even with the distance between. He lifted up her drink in a salute to her, throwing it back in one shot.

Soon, her vision was blocked by the wall as they continued down the hallway, but her mind was still reeling from the chance meeting of the supe she had always admired.

The car pulled up to the three-storey townhouse, the engine cutting out just as Jim turned to Y/N. She smiled as he leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers in a soft, slow kiss. His hand gently cupped her cheek, his thumb stroking across her skin, just the kiss deepened. A low moan escaped her, but she had a brief thought that she hoped things weren’t leading somewhere. She didn’t want to give in again like she did the last time they were together, just a few weeks ago. It was their first time being intimate, and she really wished they had waited like any other couple would have.

Jim’s hand slipped down the back of her red dress, landing on her waist as he pressed himself closer to her. She breathed in deep as their lips were still fused together, cupping her hands under his jaw, as she pulled away quickly.

“I should really go up, my parents are probably wondering where I am,” she said, glancing behind him at the lights on in the windows.

“Don’t you… wanna do it again?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow as he pecked her lips.

She huffed a small laugh, shaking her head. “I really can’t.”

“Come on, honey,” he insisted, planting small kisses along her cheek, her jaw and down to her neck.

“Jimmy,” she sighed, pressing her hands into his suit-covered chest. “Jimmy, please-”

He groaned as he shifted back, a scowl pulling at his features. “We already have once, what’s the big deal?”

She was taken aback by his sudden change in demeanor, seeming genuinely upset that she didn’t want to do anything. She frowned, their eyes on each other as he waited for her to say something that he would consider a good enough excuse.

“Well, it’s like you said,” she muttered, offering him a smile, “bright and early tomorrow, right?”

“Jesus, Y/N,” he whispered, shaking his head in annoyance.

Because it wasn’t good, that’s why she thought as she only admitted the truth of that night to herself. It had started fine, the arousal that had built in their relationship causing things to become heated quickly, their kisses and touches frantic as they laid in the back of his car that night. The steam faded just as quick, however, as it was over before it really even got going. After the initial discomfort, just as she was enjoying herself, Jim was done well before she was. So yeah, it wasn’t good, and she didn’t have the heart to tell him that.

She wondered if things would be better once they were married. She had heard from her friends that their sex lives were incredible, and she had to hope that it all wasn’t one great, big lie. She wanted to experience something overwhelming. All consuming. She wanted fireworks.

And so far… there were none.

“I have to go,” she stated, picking up her purse and reaching for the door.

“Wait, wait,” he mumbled, taking her hand in his just as she turned to face him again. He leaned down and kissed her knuckles. “I’m sorry.”

She sighed, heavily just as their eyes locked. She nodded slowly, quickly moving in to softly kiss his lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He kissed her once more before he let go of her hand, allowing her to reach for the car door again. She stepped out and shut the door, her heels clicking against the concrete as she made her to the steps outside the building. She turned once she reached the top, giving Jimmy a small wave before she took out her keys, opening the door just as his car drove away.

As much as she loved him, loved spending her time with him in and outside of work, she really hoped that the next day was busy enough that she didn’t need to see him.

Sometimes she just needed a break.

The work day started like it always did. There was a quick meeting with all the administration staff on what needed to be done for the day, followed by a morning round of coffee and then onto the tasks at hand. Y/N had phone duties and sorting contracts from floor to floor for each of the supes currently in the Vought American payroll. She had already dealt with some of the newcomers in the morning; calling them to sign on the dotted line and seal their fate with the company for as long as it was specified on their deal. Simple as that.

Y/N knew she had the easiest job of the whole administration team. When she wasn’t on phones and contract delivery between hero management and the heroes, she would usually be handling correspondence and ordering supplies, and that was the extent of her duties. She heard rumors of what other employees had to deal with, but she was never sure what the level of truth was to them. Some people gossiped but she wasn’t one to get involved or listen, choosing instead to keep her head down and do the work. She was only one of three secretaries on the 40th floor; in the grand scheme of the company, she had the least high-profile role and she was glad about that.

Around midday, everything was a little less hectic after the mad, morning rush. The phone rang obnoxiously loud, cutting through the silence as she sorted through different files, her manicured fingers quickly picked up the receiver as she continued to glance over the words on the paper.

“Vought American, thank you for your call,” Y/N recited, her usual greeting like second nature at this point. “How may I help you?”

“Uh, yeah this is Mike from hero management. Listen, we’re tryna reach Soldier Boy, but he ain’t answering his phone,” the voice on the end of the line replied. “We need someone to check in at his loft, make sure he’s even there.”

“Well, someone else is going to have to handle that,” Y/N stated, looking down at the time on her watch. “I’m about to take my lunch break-”

“Look, toots, just get a hold of him and send him down to 38, okay? Then you can chow down on your PB&J all you want,” Mike snapped, cutting the call immediately after his words.

She glared at the receiver as the engaged tone beeped repeatedly, rolling her eyes as slammed it back on the holder and caused the dial to chime from the force. The days she didn’t have to deal with corporate assholes were the best, but now thanks to just one the day had the potential of getting worse if she had any more phone calls like that. And now she had to deal with Soldier Boy, something she had never done before, considering he had an assistant who kept tabs on him. So where the hell was she?

Y/N brushed her light blue skirt down as she stood up and pushed her chair under the desk, her heels clicking against the marble floors as she made her way towards the heroes’ apartments. She had only ever been as far as Liberty’s penthouse, never having dealt with the last supe that lived at the end of the hallway. As she reached the door, her eyes wandered over the words “Soldier Boy” written in gold letters, a shaky breath escaping her as she lifted her fist and knocked. She waited a moment as she tried to listen for footsteps, but she heard nothing.

Reaching for the doorknob, she was surprised to find it unlocked as she turned it and opened the door. She peered inside, her eyes widened as she took in the extensive space. Black marble floors with dark wood panels on the walls, black leather sofas in the living area that extended to a large wooden dining table and chairs, and a long, black marble ledge with a bar behind it. The colors of his super suit were in the décor, like the dark green cushions, rug and curtains, gold doorknobs and the huge gold bust of a Bald Eagle with its wings spread, kept on a stand near the shelves of liquor. Slowly, Y/N stepped into the apartment, shutting the door quietly behind her.

As she walked in cautiously, she saw no signs that Soldier Boy was there. She frowned as she passed by the coffee table, remnants of white powder dusted across the black marble, shaking her head in confusion. Her ears perked up as a sudden groan cut through the silence, her gaze landing on the sliding doors at the other end of the room that were left slightly open in the middle. She took a few steps forward, soft moans echoing through causing her to stop in her tracks. She knew what those sounds were. She had made them herself, even if they weren’t quite as lustful as the ones she was hearing.

The moans and whimpers continued to increase in volume but also in number, almost like they were happening at the same time. Y/N knew she should’ve turned around and ran out the door, but she found herself moving towards the room, feeling her heart beating rapidly in her chest. As she reached the small opening between the doors, her eyes widened at the scene in front of her, a tingling sensation running through her whole body and down to her core.

Soldier Boy stood at the side of his bed, a light sheen of sweat across his torso, his hands gripping tight into the flesh of a brunette woman’s hips fully bent over in front of him. He was completely naked as his pelvis smacked the curve of her ass, his muscles flexing as he pounded into her. Y/N’s gaze continued down the woman’s back, shock and something else she couldn’t really decipher coursing through her as she saw her head buried between another woman’s legs, the latter on her back as she cupped her breasts, pinching her nipples. Y/N couldn’t see the brunette’s face, but considering the supe’s assistant had the same hair color, she assumed that Sherry was the one in the middle.

Y/N wasn’t sure how much time had passed with her standing there, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave. Everything seemed to be moving slower, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip, her thighs squeezing together under her skirt the longer she watched. She gulped as she saw the way Soldier Boy moved, his touch hard and rough as his hand tugged at the roots of her hair and pulled her up. Her eyes squeezed shut as his other hand slid around her waist and between her legs, a shrill cry falling from her lips as her head fell back against his shoulder. The blonde woman on the bed sat up, leaning forward and letting her tongue roam over Sherry’s skin, softly sucking at the hard, rosy buds.

The longer Y/N stood there, the more she wished she could find herself in a similar scenario. The position was intricate, intimate but it was far from innocent, and lately… that was exactly what she wanted but had never admitted to anyone but herself.

Soldier Boy grunted as his pace sped up, his eyes on the women in front of him but they briefly drifted away. His gaze focused on the doors directly ahead of him, catching the glimpse of blue he could see through the crack in the door. His eyes met Y/N’s, causing her to gasp as she had finally been caught. As he thrusted into the woman in front of him, her moans getting louder with each one, he ignored her as he continued to keep his eyes locked on Y/N. His lips pulled up into a grin, unaware of how long she had been standing there, but enjoying the attention. He winked at her as a deep, husky chuckle left him, his stare unwavering.

Y/N jumped back, her brain finally snapping back into action. Her heel squeaked against the marble as she turned quickly, her shoes clacking against the floor as she rushed out the door and slammed it behind her. She ran down the hallway, halting to a stop as she got to the corner, walking to the desks at a normal pace as she tried to calm her racing heart. There was no way to unsee what she just witnessed, and in some way she didn’t want to. Just as she reached her desk, Jim walked down the opposite hallway, beaming once he saw her.

“Hey,” he greeted, kissing her cheek as he reached her. “Ready for lunch?”

“Uh…” she cleared her throat, nodding quickly as she glanced at her watch. “Yeah, yeah, let’s get outta here.”

He frowned, cupping her cheek as she looked up at him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she breathed, smiling softly. “I’m good.” She wasn’t, but what else was she supposed to say after what just happened?

“Alright,” he said, offering her his arm. “Let’s eat.”

Y/N picked up her purse, looped her arm through the top handle as she pulled on her white gloves, checking the buttons on her matching blue jacket before she turned to her fiancé. She hooked her arm around his and let him lead the way towards the elevator.

She was glad that she had something for balance, her mind far too preoccupied with everything she had seen.

Y/N sat in front of the mirror at her dresser, staring blankly as she brushed her hair in leisured strokes. Her brain hadn’t been able to focus for the rest of the day at work, and on the walk home from the subway she missed her street and kept walking, eventually realizing and turning back. Flashes of him with those women kept tormenting her, teasing her with things she hadn’t thought she wanted until she saw it right in front of her. She loved Jim, and she had to believe that things would get better in the bedroom once they were married, so she really had no right thinking about what she saw Soldier Boy doing with Sherry and the other woman.

And yet, it had been hours since it had happened, and she still couldn’t stop thinking about it. She couldn’t stop thinking about how rough he had been, how his muscles rippled with every move, how hard he was thrusting into her…

She shook herself out of her trance, putting her hairbrush down and pulling her curlers in front of her. Having mastered rolling her hair within twenty minutes, she was done within that time and tied a scarf around her head to keep them in place overnight. She applied cream to her face and stood up, climbed under the covers of her bed and turned off the lamp on the nightstand. She adjusted her head against the pillow as best as she could with the curlers, staring up at the ceiling through the darkness in the room. As she closed her eyes, hoping to drift off into a deep slumber, images of Soldier Boy began to flash through her memory.

She groaned as her eyes snapped open. She turned her head, looking up at the phone on her nightstand. She bit her lip as she wondered whether she should call Jim, hoping that talking to him might help her forget what happened that morning. She shook her head and closed her eyes once more, knowing it was quite late to be calling. Her mind continued to torture her, but instead of ignoring it, she let herself be swept away.

The exhilaration she felt with seeing him in the act, it was far better than whatever she had felt when she and Jim had succumbed to their desires. No matter how much she told herself it would get better after marriage, there was a part of her that knew it wasn’t true. No matter what she felt from her fiancé, there was no way he was capable of what Soldier Boy was.

She wanted to know what it felt like, to experience that kind of intensity and passion. That should’ve scared her, but it didn’t. What actually scared her was the fact that she didn’t want those things with her fiancé.

She wanted those things with Soldier Boy.

Join my taglist(s)! If you’re crossed out I couldn’t tag you :(

Forevers: @hintsofhoney // @makeadealwithdean // @writercole // @flamencodiva // @440mxs-wife // @sexyvixen7 // @foxyjwls007 // @maliburenee // @waynes-multiverse // @weepingwillowphoenix // @kyjey // @leigh70 // @savagemickey03 // @lunarmoon8 // @stoneyggirl2 // @hobby27 // @sweetcyanidemilkshake // @envyaurora95 // @jassackles //

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[waynes-multiverse]

Rehab – Prologue

Series Summary: Thanks to Soldier Boy, the CIA was able to develop Project Bloom under the fierce leadership of Grace Mallory: a final cure to Compound V and a hopeful end to the supe epidemic three years after the explosive incident at Vought. A secret rehab facility in Upstate New York is supposed to help former heroes find their way back to humanity. The catch, though? Soldier Boy has never fucking agreed to any of this shit and is surely not happy about being powerless for the first time in his goddamn long life.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female!Reader

Warnings: +18, language, general angst

Word Count: 778

A/N: Welcome, friends! I’ve missed writing for Soldier Boy, and I’m so happy to have this dirty, ol’ gramps back. Be aware, tho, that some topics are of a darker nature and it doesn’t necessarily have the happy ending y’all are imagining 😉 That being said, enjoy this prologue and lemme know if you wanna be on the series tag list for this story!

Feedback is my fuel 🖤

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

Prologue: rehab

“How are his latest test results?”

“Looking good, ma’am. His body is behaving exactly like we wanted it to. The Compound V is gone from his system after the third dose, and he’s recovering as expected. His vitals look very promising.”

“Good, good.” Grace Mallory nods at the young doctor in a white lab coat, a smirk playing across her thin lips as she looks at the unconscious fallen hero through the glass of his cryopod. “Wake him up and move him to the facility Upstate with the others,” she orders.

And so it happened that Soldier Boy was no longer a threat, the once most dangerous bomb on the planet defused, rendered harmless and impotent. These days, the former venomous snake was no more frightening than a toothless blindworm.

Y/N’s head lifts from the backgammon board in front of her and drifts to the commotion streaming in from the hall as the high-security metal entrance doors of the facility fly wide open. Curiously, she rises from her lounge chair, abandoning her winning match against her companion, and stalks closer, leaning against a concrete column. Three CIA agents hold down and wrangle with a furiously screaming man – broad-shouldered, longer sandy-blond hair, and neatly trimmed beard. They push him inside with all the strength they can muster while the guy in agony fights tooth and nail against the restraining arms around him.

“LET ME GO! I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU ALL! NO! NO! GET ME THE FUCK OUTTA HERE! YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME! NOOOO! DON’T YOU KNOW WHO THE FUCK I AM?! YOU FUCKING BITCH! I’LL FUCKING END YOU FOR WHAT YOU’VE DONE TO ME!”

Y/N, however, is not so surprised by that circumstance. After all, the guy’s not the first person that has ever tried to fight his way out of supe rehab. It happens all the time. In fact, she might be one of the few that actually came here willingly. Her brow significantly raises, though, as Grace Mallory strolls in behind the four men. Officially retired from the CIA but still in charge of Project Bloom, she only comes along for the special cases, the big fish, and as Y/N squints her eyes and takes a closer look at the newest arrival, her heart completely stops and drops to her slippers on the ivory linoleum.

“Is that–” She stumps, not daring to say the supe’s name aloud.

“Ben, yes,” Mallory nods and smiles, enjoying the struggle a little too much, her eyes practically fixated on the green-eyed man. “Of course, you might know him only as Soldier Boy.”

Y/N’s breath hitches in her throat. So it really is him. The sole reason why she’s here, the greatest superhero that ever lived who was captured and brainwashed by the commies – or so Vought claims. She’s never met him personally before today, but Soldier Boy’s surely been on the news a lot in recent years – the radioactive hero and his killing sprees. Whispered rumors among supes even say he fathered Homelander, which, if true, is just a blatant crime against humanity in and of itself.

“Do me a favor, Y/N? You’re our most experienced patient here – take him under your wing, make sure he adjusts and stays out of trouble,” Mallory says, albeit it’s unmistakably meant as an order. The CIA doesn’t do nicely phrased requests.

“Alright,” Y/N nods resolutely, hoping the former CIA deputy director doesn’t notice the thick swallow that drips down her throat. Her eyes swerve back to the man in question, one of the doctors forcefully ramming a needle into his jugular as the hero screams at the top of his lungs before his bowed legs give in. The violent green eyes lose their fight and close, and he succumbs to the linoleum with a loud thud worthy of his massive stature. “Is that really necessary?”

Y/N always hates when they sedate someone. After all, the clinic is supposed to help people, not necessarily torture them, albeit the CIA often shares a different view than her.

Mallory just scoffs darkly. “It is. Trust me. He’s a handful,” she notes condescendingly and rolls her eyes. “You have your work cut out for you with this moronic bastard. Don’t fall for his charm, and if he becomes dangerous, shoot him in the head. I trust your judgment.”

Y/N’s stomach churns at her words, watching as the former hero’s lifeless body gets dragged down the hallway into a room, the door locking behind him. And while she knows Soldier Boy is no innocent angel, she can’t help the sympathy that permeates her heart.

What do you see when you look at me? Don't cover my scars, let them bleed

Chapter 1: maybe

Mallory’s clearly not a Soldier Boy stan like us 😂 Hope you enjoyed this little intro, peeps! 🖤

Tag Lists:

Everything J (Prologue & Chapter 1 only): @extraterrestriali @this-is-me19 @writercole @awkward-and-indecisive @eevvvaa @panicking-outside-the-disco @globetrotter28 @imherefordeanandbones @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @xlynnbbyx @jassackles @maggiegirl17 @perpetualabsurdity @deans-spinster-witch @deandreamernp @foxyjwls007 @roseblue373 @lyarr24 @deanwanddamons @deanwithscissors @mrsjenniferwinchester @justrealizedimmascifygurl @akshi8278 @flamencodiva @chriszgirl92 @wittyboldsoul @djs8891 @leigh70 @snowlovespie @b3autyfuldisast3r @ladysparkles78 @muhahaha303 @mimaria420 @creepzeyecandy @iamsapphine

Rehab Series: @eevvvaa @deans-spinster-witch @iamsapphine @jessjad @suckitands33 @ladysparkles78 @spalady26 @zepskies @syrma-sensei @muchamusedaboutnothing​

Note: Wanna be on the series tag and don’t see yourself yet? Lemme know! Everything J won’t be tagged anymore after Chapter 1.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Pairing: Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Tropes: Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn

Song Inspiration For The Series: You Call It Madness But I Call It Love By Russ Columbo

Series Playlist (Spotify)🥀

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters fluctuate between past and present, beginning in 1934. SPOILERS FOR THE BOYS S3

Chapter 1: You Shouldn't Have Answered the Door

Chapter 2: Late Night Visitor

Chapter 3: Summer Has to End Someday

Chapter 4: It's My Party and I'll Eat Cake If I Want To

Chapter 5: The Man, The Myth, The Legend

Chapter 6: Batter Up

Chapter 7: Are We Old Friends Or Old Enemies?

Chapter 8: Jealousy Doesn't Look Good On Anybody Except...

Chapter 9: Wedding Bells or Gong of Destruction?

Chapter 10: How Did It End Up Like This?

Chapter 11: I Can't Think With You Yelling At Me!

Chapter 12: My Heart Is Beating For You Constantly

Chapter 13: You Made A Plaything Out of Romance

Chapter 14: You're All I'm Dreaming Of

Chapter 15: What Do You Know About Love?

Chapter 16: Please Come Back To Me

Chapter 17: How Could I Ever Forget?

Chapter 18: First Impressions Are Often Correct

Chapter 19: I Know Who You Are

Chapter 20: You Were There

Chapter 21: Try To Understand

Chapter 22: I May Be Right Or I May Be Crazy

Chapter 23: Extreme Makeover Backyard Edition

Chapter 24: What The Past Held

Chapter 25: Are Family Reunions Always This Awkward?

Chapter 26: I Hate You, I Love You

Chapter 27: Take Me Back To The Beginning

Epilogue: True Love Is Hard To Find

Last Updated: 10/08/2024 (Series Complete)

One Shots: COMING SOON!

[Extras]

Chapter 7.5: The Only Escape (Unused)

Happy Halloween! (Takes Place After Main Series)

If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series let me know :)

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303

@deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs

@bughill126 @simplyfixated  @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts @onlyangel-444

@lov3vivian @mxltifxnd0m @mayafatimakhan @marvel-mistress @my-obsession-spn

@lifeonawhim  @liuope @brynanna @carpenterswife

@xxannyxx

 @babyinatrench-coat1 @the-gentle-spirit @valryomen @cassieriddle713 @shaggzthatsnottheworm

 @lil-soup @ej13928 @topstory21 @boywivlove

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@vivre-dans-la-nuit @megara0224 @daisy-the-quake @thesilmarillionblog @samanddeaninatrenchcoat

@livya99 @peachhiz @tinydancer40 @tinystarfishgalaxy

@jvanilly

@lunaticgurly @i-am-typing @52ndstreeet

@anna6307

@pixviee @soldiergrimes @ladysparkles78 @ahoytothestorm

@octoazzy @modiddys-blog @marmie-noir @practicallylivesonline @impala67stellawinchester

@everlove @dangerousgardenchild

(Photos on mood board from Pinterest)

[dollerinna]

WOULD YOU LIKE AN ALMOND JOY .ᐣ

( black noir x gn!crime analyst reader )

summary: after a long day of work, you try to unwind by watching your comfort show, but your solitude is interrupted by yet another visit from noir, who seems to be finding more and more excuses to spend time with you… (includes a C.AI bot as part 2 below!)

wordcount: 2k

tags: brief mention of NSFW pop-up ads, nerdy n’ socially awkward reader, noir’s disdain for almond joys but he makes up for it at the end <3

It had been a long day at the crime analytics office in Vought. As the sun began to set, exhaustion crept over you after reviewing incident report after report. Your eyes strained from the blue glare of your computer screen. You knew you had promised your boss you would organize the ever-growing database, but the tiny voice of procrastination was pleading for rest before your overworked brain turned into a pile of mush.

Rather than more paperwork—you, being the slacker of all slackers in this department, decided a well-deserved break was in order. And what better way to recharge than turning off the noggin and filling it with good ol’ fashioned mindless entertainment?

With a few tired clicks of your mouse, you booted up your go-to streaming site, which was none other than 123movies. Scrolling through the options, your cursor hovered over the play button of your favorite trashy drama. The kind of cheesy, perfectly predictable melodrama spun from the worst of amateur YA plots. It was practically comfort food for your fatigued mind, just what you needed to loosen up after the mental marathon that was this long day.

As the opening credits began to roll, your computer began to whir and hiss like an overtaxed engine, emitting gusts of unusually hot air from the vents. Suddenly, its screen slowed to a sluggish crawl, cluttered with a barrage of not-so-savory pop-up ads. Barely a minute in, the pixels already scrambled to form images better to left unseen—half naked women in risqué yet tacky mermaid-like attire, claiming they were ‘just around the corner and ready for a good aquatic fuck.’

First of all, what the absolute living hell is an “aquatic fuck”??

Did you even want to know? And most importantly, what happened to the ad blocker you installed just the other day? Judging by the contents, you had a sneaking suspicion that slimy, sea-dwelling degenerate, The Deep, had tampered with your computer… yet again.

“For the love of-… what’s with all these pop-up ads?” you muttered under your breath as excessively explicit ads crowded out the episode. Your eyes darted furtively around the room to check for wandering glances, hoping against hope that none of your coworkers had noticed the unwanted filth invading your screen. Heart pounding, you squeezed your chair closer to your monitor into a makeshift barricade, shielding the display as best you could while hastily clicking away at the intrusive ads.

As you hurriedly closed the remaining windows, an ominous shadow fell across the screen. Dreading what—or who—might be behind you, you slowly swiveled your chair around to find Black Noir's stoic stare boring into your own.

You stifled a yelp as you instinctively clutched the armrests, catching yourself on the edge of your seat before an ungainly spill to the floor. Noir had a way of materializing without warning, and it never failed to unnerve.

“N-Noir!” you managed, inwardly cringing as your voice broke on his name. “Fancy seeing you in these parts. I was just taking a quick break and y’know- stretching ‘em brain cells.” You tried for a lighthearted chuckle, but it emerged as more of a strained squeak that faded into an anxious hum.

With a jerky flurry of clicks and the browser minimized from view, whatever dignity you still retained disappearing along with it. All that did remain was you praying to the heavens above that he hadn't noticed its questionable contents (even if he most definitely had and simply chose not to comment)

When Noir offered no response, you of course charmingly barreled ahead in your frazzled daze. “But anyways, s-sorry about that… how uh, can I help you today?” your words tumbled out in a breathless rush, punctuated by a shrill laugh you hoped disguised the mortification simmering beneath.

Noir cocked his head, observing you with that same silent intensity. You fidgeted, hands twisting in knotted discomfort, the heat in your ears now engulfing your entire face. Was it the invasive pop-ups that had you squirming in your seat? Or the fact he could snuff out your existence faster than you can say “workers’ comp”?

Either way, beneath the weight of his stare, you already felt as if you were some peculiar, freakish creature pinned for study, rather than some bumbling employee just trying to unwind and watch their comfort show.

And to him, you indeed were a fascinating, bizarre little human.

Mercifully, Noir chose to extend a folder toward you, putting an end to your somewhat pathetic withering. You accepted it with a wordless nod, nearly sagging in your chair as tension drained from your shoulders.

Whirling towards the familiar clutter of your desk once more, you pretended absorption in the folder’s material, hoping this signaled Noir’s leave. After all, has anyone seen the state of you? It certainly wasn’t a flattering one. Yet from the corner of your eye, you detected no movement, no receding footsteps—his shadowy form remained statuesquely in place.

Believe it or not, this has been becoming a thing, a growing habit of late—and a suspicious one at that. Lately his breaks had grown longer, minutes lengthening to quarters of an hour, all spent hovering at your desk as you worked. However, his focus was solely on watching and observing you. He never exhibited a hint of thought or motive for his reason there, only leaving you with questions that seemed to multiply by each and every visit.

Noir, on the other hand, was somehow utterly convinced that you and him were two peas in a tightly-knit pod. He swore you two were best of buds for life—even if "life" so far had only amounted to the past two weeks' worth of half-hour stretches where he silently observed your work from the corner.

Ironically, you didn’t have the slightest inkling of how he really felt. Instead, you always assumed that he, like most supes, regarded you as little more than a puny mortal—a fragile, near-useless sack of flesh and bones whose skull he was one misstep away from caving in with bare hands.

But nope, Noir was simply here to bless you, the nerdy but cute crime analyst, with his presence—his rather… unsettling presence.

The familiar hush settled as you reluctantly returned focus to the task at hand. Hocus-pocus-focus, you chanted mentally, peeling away the last shreds of stray thoughts to tap into the zone of productivity. Unfurling the dossier Noir provided, you began sifting through documents for insight on his purpose in approaching you. Meanwhile, a flick of movement in the edge of your vision revealed Noir's attention veer off course, the almond joy perched beside your keyboard capturing his notice.

You tensed, hocus-pocus-focus breaking, all too aware of past disappearances of snacks in these briefings. Sure enough, his hand drifted noiselessly toward the candy bar, no doubt spurred by ingrained impulse to dispose of it per his usual custom. But you'd grown wise to his methods by now.

Not again, you sighed inwardly, snatching the almond joy and cradling it protectively as if it were your dear, beloved child.

Noir made no move to withdraw, palm outstretched expectantly. You frowned, struggling to keep frustration at bay. "Please, come on- not this time!.. It's my last one for the day." Brows pinching, your tone threatened to rise before steadying with a slow and calm inhale. No use losing composure over candy, no matter the principle. So all you could do was peer beseechingly at Noir in silent appeal, legs jittering restlessly under your desk in building apprehension.

Unfortunately, you found no signs of leniency in his obscured face—only his hand beckoning relentlessly for the almond joy. You plea was once again met with stony resolve, as if he was internally distressed by the mere presence of it. What was he? Deathly allergic to almond joys or something?

With a resigned breath, you delivered the almond joy towards Noir's waiting glove, unable to hide the disappointment dimming your features. Your lips curled into a slight pout, gaze sinking heavy into your lap at being parted from the treat. Though Noir was never one for words, it really didn’t take a rocket scientist to see you felt bullied into submission by his demands. At the end of the day, what power did a measly analyst like yourself hold against one of the Seven? As your fingers uncurled, releasing the candy into Noir's grasp, you couldn't help but feel a bit put upon, even if that wasn’t his intention at all.

Noir was well aware of the upset feelings his request had caused, so in an attempt to remedy the situation, his arm was sent in a backwards reach for the notepad he often used to communicate. However, he found himself at a loss as words eluded him, his thoughts swirling in frustrating circles of “What should I even say?”—muddled and incoherent. For a moment he stared at you, mask betraying no emotion as he grappled to find the right words, despite the prick of guilt nibbling at his conscience. Then, lacking any better option, he simply tossed the offending candy into the trash, perhaps with more force than intended.

Clearly, socializing was not Noir’s strong suit.

With no further acknowledgment, Noir spun on his heel and marched away. You watched his retreating, rigid form with discomfort clenching your insides, eyes falling onto the lonely candy discarded in the trash, its colorful wrapper mocking your current disheartened state.

Wearily, you turned away from the almond joy, redirecting your attention toward the computer as a means to divert your now soured mood. Maximizing the browser, you hoped that your planned show may have had time to load during the interaction. But upon inspecting the screen, you found the video remained stubbornly stalled, stuck on buffering dots and refusing to roll despite the minutes passed.

Just. Peachy.

One (super)human encounter had sucked the very life source out of your dog-tired body, and now this. It was really shaping up to be one of those days.

Thoroughly worn out, you gently laid your head down onto the desk, pillowing it against the crook of your folded arms as eyelids slid shut. All you craved was to simply sleep away the remaining time until you could finally escape this wretched shift and retreat to the sanctuary of your home sweet home.

─────────────────

As your shift wound down to its end, you were finally stirring from your slumber. Rubbing the sleep from your bleary eyes, your blurred vision sharpened to show your colleagues had long since departed while you were snoozing away.

Rising and squaring your shoulders, you began to gather your belongings in preparation to leave as well. Once you had collected everything and lifted to your feet, something in the far corner of your desk caught your eye. Approaching for a closer look in the dim lighting, the fuzzy outline gradually came into focus—a cluttered collection of Hershey's Kisses, their jumbled placement grouped to form the shape of a heart.

You blinked in bewilderment, rubbing your eyes once more to ensure you weren't imagining things. Stepping closer, you spotted a sticky note nestled within the heart of chocolates, scrawled upon in a crude, blocky hand. At first, you assumed it was some silly prank from one of your coworkers, but you knew you recognized the handwriting anywhere—it was Noir's.

Gingerly, you plucked the sticky note from the desk, lifting it to your line of sight to read the message. “Kisses taste better than almond joys…Sorry.” you read softly, your voice trailing off as confusion crept in.

Designed as a very apparent flirty gesture, the intent behind the note and chocolates still managed to whoosh straight over your head. As always seemed the case, even the most painfully obvious social cues could so easily evade your understanding—this proving no exception.

You slipped the sticky note into your pocket, then selected a foil-wrapped Kiss from the pile. Gently rolling the chocolate between your fingers, you unwrapped it and popped one into your mouth. You took time to savor its light cream filling beneath a smooth outer shell, face crinkling in thought and head tilting as you considered your verdict. “Eh… I’d beg to differ.” you mused with a shrug, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you took your leave from the office.

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Pssst- likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated in this household and keep me motivated! <3

-------☆-------

a C.AI bot as your very own part 2 where you thank Noir the following day:

a/n: saw somewhere that kisses don’t contain nuts but then I also saw someone else say they actually do??? So let’s just pretend the kisses Noir chose are completely nut-free for the sake of the plot 😭

also, the reader is very much based off Anika if it wasn’t obvious enough haha! She’s so y/n coded 😤💗

♡ divider credits: @/ianrkives