#soldier boy x gender neutral reader

[writeshite]

How would Thor/Homelander/Soldier boy react to them accidently hurting (emotionally or physically) their bf?

Thor:

Probably the only one here with some emotional intelligence, and yeah, he used to be arrogant, but he's a sweetheart, an absolute angel. Thor is most likely very in tune with how you convey emotions, I mean he worships the ground you walk on.

If he hurts you physically, and you end up scared of him, I can see two things that could happen, he either distances himself from you for a while to work through the mental breakdown that probably hits him. Second option is he hovers; I mean, the man can summon thunder and control lightning - regardless of what species you are (Kree, Human, Asgardian, Elf, Skrull, etc.) - he's gonna be concerned cause I mean, he could maybe indirectly stop your heart, or crush your internal organs, or just hurt you brutally and painfully in any other way.

If he hurts you emotionally, he's groveling; he's doing everything in his power to show how sorry he is and how much he loves you. He'll probably ask you what you want, if you want distance he'll give it to you, he'll stay away until you call back and hopes it doesn't lead to a breakup.

Homelander:

Like father like son, I guess. Sort of. I think with all the time he's spent around people and getting high of approval, he at least has some sort of knowledge on emotions, but not like in a healthy normal way, more in a 'I've been around people crying and whining before I know enough to be able to speedrun the crying stage and get to the forgiveness part' if that makes sense.

Also, I feel like it would also depend on how your relationship is; if you and Homelander have a genuine thing going on, then he'd probably put in effort cause he doesn't want to lose the only source of actual genuine affection in his life. So you'd probably get an apology, some gifts, anything Homelander thinks will get him back in your good graces. And then cuddles.

If your relationship is a fling of some kind or fake relationship to hype the masses with no romantic feelings of any kind involved on his end, then you ain't getting no apology honey 💀, because I mean, he likes to embarrass people who he perceives have wronged him, so even if he's the one at fault for hurting you physically or mentally, it'll somehow become your fault, so he'll probably bring the fight out into the public, use Vought to paint you as the one in the wrong, if you don't want that to happen then you should apologize, you're the one who's wrong here.

Soldier Boy:

I love Ben, I do, but I know this man has like the emotional bandwidth of a rock like he's probably still trying to process being attracted to not only women while also trying to unpack his goofy ass douchebaggery.

I don't think Ben would notice at first if he hurt you emotionally, or if he does, he'd probably think you'd get over it and then be shocked if/when you don't. He'd feel bad and experience the wonderful world of guilt.

If he hurt you physically, he'd notice a lot quicker, and probably feel worse, I feel like he's the kind of guy who takes physical injuries/pain more seriously than emotional and mental.

[cainsau]

A Game of Updog || The Boys Imagine

(Platonic) Soldier Boy x GN!Reader Featuring: Butcher, Hughie

Summary: Set in S3E7. The car ride to Mindstorm is too quiet for your liking. You decide to spice things up by trying out the updog trick on good ol' Soldier Boy.

Warning: None, just silly stuff

"Do you smell that?"

Soldier Boy, who's sitting next to you in the passenger seat, looks at you weird and starts smelling the car, "What?"

Hughie does the same in the front seat, "I don't smell anything."

"Really? 'Cause it smells a lot like updog in here."

Hughie manages to keep himself from smiling, not that you can see it, but he knows exactly what you're trying to do and will not mess it up for you. Soldier Boy, on the other hand, squints at you in confusion, "What's-"

"Oh, for fuck's sake." Butcher interrupts, also aware of your trick, and is trying to stop it. "We are NOT on a fucking road trip to the Dolomites. Can i just have a tiny bit of peace while i'm driving?"

Soldier Boy raises his eyebrows at Butcher. He seemed fine with you and Soldier Boy talking just an hour ago.

"Sorry," you tell him, "It's just... i'm bored, and the car smells like updog."

There it is again, the word he doesn't understand. Hughie was kind enough to explain new words like bluetooth and internet, so maybe this is another new thing... or it's a sensitive topic to Butcher, judging by how aggressively he reacted. Soldier Boy opens his mouth to speak, but Butcher beat him to it again.

"Fine!" Butcher rolls his eyes, "If you can't shut up, why don't we talk about Mindstorm, hm?"

"Okay." You sigh, leaning back into your seat, then turns to face Soldier Boy. "Do tell us about him."

"Well, he can read your mind." He says, matter-of-factly.

You look at him, waiting for him to continue, but he doesn't say anything else. "Is that it?" You ask.

"What, don't you know him?"

"Nope," You shake your head, "I don't know much about him, or you, or any of Payback to be honest."

Soldier Boy seems surprised. He thought that his former team was popular. Perhaps the times have changed and the younger people are no longer taught about the predecessors of The Seven.

"Oh, but it's because i used to be indifferent about these things, not because you're not famous." You assure him. "You heard it yourself, the things Homelander say about you."

"Right. Anyway," He shrugs it off, "Mindstorm can get inside your head too, so don't look him in the eye."

"Where am i supposed to look, then?"

"Anywhere but his eyes." He answers with a cheeky smile.

"Okay."

"And he's also kinda strong."

"Is he as strong as updog?"

"What's updog?"

"I don't know, what's up with you?"

Finally! The moment you've been waiting for! Your eyes sparkle with delight as you grin from ear to ear, celebrating the success of your little game.

Soldier Boy only stares at you, eyes furrowed and speechless, trying to process what just happened. Hughie is looking outside the window, failing to hide a little laughter. Next to him, Butcher groans loudly, mumbling curses under his breath.

[delusional-fantasising]

I Do Love You (Soldier Boy x GN reader)

Summary: Reader tells him 'I love you' and he gets overwhelmed and shuts off.

Warnings: Soldier Boy kinda being an asshole/biggot, angst no happy ending, trauma, sexual undertone at one moment, slight misogyny, self hatred and emotional shut off

Word Count: 1176 words

The night was young, Soldier Boy had agreed dating you during his time with your team, The Boys. But one thing was obvious, under his brave and dominant bravado he was scared of loving ever again. He didn’t want another betrayal, another heart break, it just wouldn’t let him sleep to the idea of ever loving again. He was terrified of the thought that you, the one person he had slowly began to trust without any benefits could love him.

Every woman’s words rang out in his ears whenever you smiled at him;

“They don’t and they never have. The woman are either humouring you or they’re scared of you. But none of them like you.”

“I didn’t love you, I hated you. We all did.”

Soldier Boy was sitting near you with an arms reach of you, sure there was a part that did somewhat loved you but another part of him was sabotaging himself, ‘They don’t love you. They are afraid of you.’

He wasn’t looking in your direction, he was watching a documentary with you about all the years he missed. It was hard for him to watch to learn everything that changed and forced to change so fast. He had slowly gotten used to the race change not that he had too big of an issue, sorta. He just couldn’t wrap his mind around the gender roles, he found it absurd that men were no longer expected too much to have an income but more rather be expected to be emotionally available, talk things out when things get hard, respect boundaries, and empathy.

“Phht back in my day I never had to do that, women where at home and I would give them pleasure and necessities,” He scoffed as he listened to the feminist rallies that happened. You almost choked on your drink when he mentioned the whole pleasure thing, it was no joke and there was rumours from past lovers of his that his only green flag was that he was the one to go for pleasure.

“Soldier Boy, you can’t be saying that!” You laughed with very much flushed cheeks, he rolled his eyes at you telling him what to do. He wasn’t a big fan of being bossed around, he had to be in control not someone else. But then you say something that made him freeze, his hands gripping the couch arm till his knuckles went white.

“You are so lucky I love you enough to let that slide for now but you seriously got to get with the times. Women don’t want just pleasure, they want emotional connection.”

I love you…

Love.

Soldier Boy just looks away without responding to what you said initially, he was focusing on what his therapist says whenever he feels like he’s going to have a PTSD episode. (The boys forced him to go)

Breath in for four seconds

Hold it in for four seconds

Exhale for four seconds

Hold it in for four seconds

Repeat

Once he felt himself mostly calmed down he just gave a rude snarky response, his tone sarcastic, “Love. That’s a pretty big word, isn’t it? Especially for someone who barely knows me.”

“What? C’mon we have been dating for a month, you have told me some deep stuff. I just want to express some of my love for you,” You chuckled sounding confused at his sarcastic outburst but not taking it to heart since you knew that he sometimes does this to cope. You didn’t know you hit a trigger since the only one you knew about was nothing Russian around him especially the song ‘Escape’ as it triggered one of his worst episodes of exploding. Soldier Boy snapped at you and laughs with a mocking gesture as he waves his hand, “Oh so I opened up a few times and now you know me. This is crap and everyone now and days just throw that around with no meaning. I’m not some person who you can google and get all the real information about me, you don’t know anything about me besides what I want you to know.”

The bitter tone, the sharp cold glare as you could tell he was closing himself off emotionally off from you again. Trying to get distance to avoid a pain you never wish to bestow him.

“Benjamin, I want to know you then. I can’t do this if you just shut me out, I want you to feel safe around me. I really do love you,” You begin, bringing his real legal name to show how serious this conversation was. To show honesty to him and not some fake love that he has gotten in the past by a certain woman.

“Save it, I heard it all well too many times before, ‘I love you, Benjamin.’ Then follows is a knife to my back after you kick me down,” Soldier Boy spat the look of hurt in his eyes and his lip quivered slightly as he wasn’t ready for hearing someone say that to him ever again. “Benjamin I’m not Crimson Countess, I’m not going to hurt you like she did.”

“You can’t promise anything, no one can. Love is just a word, a filthy fucking lie people tell themselves to make them feel better. It doesn’t and will never mean anything to me!” He spat getting up from the couch to pace angrily not looking you in the eye anymore. His eyes getting watery at the thought of going back in the box.

The box

THAT FUCKING BOX

“That’s not true. Love means everything to me and Ben I mean it when I say I love you. Every little imperfection, even when you can being a raging asshole and slightly biggoted you have been changing for the better and I’m proud of you for it.”

Proud, he stopped in his tracks. His trembling hands at his sides turning into fists. He felt his walls of defense cracking at how much he wanted to believe your words but he just ended up muttering, “I used to believe that but love’s just a precursor to disappointment, it’s something to avoid the harsh reality of the real world… I don’t want to lead you on to disappointment”

He was avoiding being vulnerable but it was hard keeping everything bottled up. A tear was slowly building up threatening to spill, his muscles tensing up. Maybe a joke or another witty comment to brush off the stupid feelings. The feelings that made him weak.

“Ben, you won’t disappoint me.”

“Shut up. Just shut up,” Soldier Boy grumbled trying not to set off any alarms with you since he wasn’t facing you, he didn’t want you to see him cry, see him weak.

He isn’t in control

His feelings were going rampant.

You got up, sensing those tears practically going up to him softly cupping his face to make him face you. There was so much emotional turmoil brewing underneath the cold hard wall he placed up. He was scared.

Scared of you.

[all-alone-he-turns-to-stone]

10 Seconds to Remember

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Summary: When Payback gave him to the Russian like he was only a lab rat to be tortured and tested on, it wasn’t the worst they did. They also killed the love of his life right in front of his eyes. Now that he’s back, Soldier Boy is more than ready for revenge. Everything goes according to plan until he meets you again.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x GN!Reader

Word Count: 4137

Warning: lots of angst, slight graphic violence, feels, memory loss

Rating: everyone

A/n: So it’s been a while, i’ve been so busy!! With Comiccon coming and my panel to write and plan, and work being hell... Anyway, this was requested by an anon, I don’t know if they are still around cause it’s been more than a year, but here you go!

It’d been a couple of weeks since he was freed, but it still felt like he was there.

Only weeks since he was freed from his personal hell, left Russia and joined The Boys.

And they had a deal. He would kill Homelander for them if they helped him find his old team that betrayed him. They put him there in the first place, they gave him to the Russians like some sort of rat they could experience on. But that wasn’t the worst Payback did.

He could still hear them. The screams. They were haunting his nights, they haunted him when he was frozen for so many years in that box, and now that he was awake… It was even worse.

He couldn’t even remember who those screams belonged to. He remembered the pain he felt when he saw it happen. He remembered the red filling his sight when the hands destroyed the only person he ever loved. He remembered the bones breaking like fragile branches.

He remembered now. The screams were his as he was forced to watch you be tortured.

You couldn’t possibly speak when it happened, not with all the blood flowing through your mouth as Black Noir hit you in the guts. You couldn’t even make a sound when Crimson Countess broke your bones one by one. All you could do was look at him and hope he wouldn't get the same faith.

It was with the last remaining forces that you did it. As life slowly got ripped apart from you, your lips parted and formed silent words. 

Close your eyes, count to ten.

That was before he was sent to Russia. His team killed you before they attacked him and placed a mask over his mouth that sent him into a deep sleep. He always thought it was to anger him that they killed you first. Because even he, Soldier Boy, was unable to think correctly under a strong wave of rage. And it worked.

Turned out, seeing the love of his life getting brutally killed in front of him was traumatizing enough to leave a mark.

Weeks had gone by and so far, Soldier Boy had managed to get revenge on the Countess and the TNT Twins. He thought it would relieve some of his pain, to kill those who took away his love and betrayed him. But the more he slaughtered and let himself go to his rage, the more anger was added inside of him. Like a boiling tornado, it kept expanding inside of his chest, burning painfully. And when it exploded…

It destroyed everything around him.

Finding Mindstorm was harder and longer than planned, so of course, Soldier Boy was getting frustrated. It was not going like he wanted. There was no time to lose there, he thought Butcher and the other nerd could help him for fuck sake. Stuck in too much anger, he decided it was enough and left the house he was supposed to stay in to wander into the city.

There were not many clothes he could wear out without attracting attention, so he had to borrow some from the bearded guy. Even then, everything ran small, so he was left with only one choice… It wasn’t too bad, but still, Soldier Boy cringed more than once at the Hawaiian shirt he had to wear as he walked through the quiet roads of the city. He was still complaining about it when he suddenly stopped dead in tracks. 

Stuck in the middle of the road, he stayed motionless. Some people complained he was blocking the path, but he didn’t move. Something here… seemed familiar. A scent, a feeling, the sight of something from the corner of his eyes…

Soldier Boy blinked. Once, twice, then closed his eyes and pressed his fingers on his lids hard enough to see colors appearing. He counted to 10 and breathed slowly. And when he opened them, it was like he was back in time.

People were walking around him, all wearing more formal clothes. Old, beautiful cars were parked on either side of the road. And to his right, a shop. There was a big bay window up front so he could easily see inside. It was filled with even older things, books, mostly. And in the middle of all that history and paper, there was you.

Soldier Boy blinked again, getting back to the present. Impatient people were complaining to him. Ugly cars took all the place on the damaged road. It wasn’t the same anymore, not after all the years he lost. Time had ruined everything, ate the vegetation, destroyed life itself. But when he turned his head to look at where you used to work…

His breath caught in his throat. It had to be a dream. Soldier Boy turned his body completely towards the shop, and without him controlling his limbs, walked inside. The bell chimed when he opened the door, announcing a new customer.

And with the brightest smile, the person behind the counter welcomed him.

“Hello! Welcome. Please, take a look around. I’m here if you have any questions!”

If he wasn’t so steady and strong, Ben would have fallen to his knees. He could feel his legs shaking as he walked closer to the counter where you were.

It was like time had no reach to the shop. It was the same as what he remembered. The outside was ruined by time and human choices, but the inside…

It felt warm. Cozy. Comfortable. The smell of old paper reigned there, it was almost overwhelming, but he knew it didn’t bother you. There were so many books on the shelves, piled on the tables and stacked in boxes that it was impossible to count them all. Behind the glass at the entrance, old newspaper, comic books, furniture and typewriters. Even the cash register was old school.

And then, there was you.

“Y/n…?”

If he had doubts this was real, Soldier Boy had the confirmation when you turned your head to the sound of your name. And when he saw what you were wearing around your neck, the last doubt left his mind.

“Yes? How do you know my name?”

Pain.

Simply.

His visions got blurred, his head spinning.

Hope pressed down heavily in his guts when you said those words. Gravity pushed down on his whole body, he felt crushed under it, like every single one of his bones were breaking, unable to support him anymore.

And inside of him, his heart was shattering in a thousand pieces.

You clearly didn’t remember him… If it was really you.

He had so many questions, so many thoughts running through his head. Doubts. He wanted to scream at you to tell the truth. What was going on? What happened? How was this possible? 

Was it really you?

But nothing.

His mouth opened, but only silence could be heard. It was the first time Soldier Boy felt inevitably weak. He felt desperately human. Ben felt powerless.

“Can I help you?” You worried, walking around the counter to stop right next to him. Green eyes followed your movements to finally dive into your gaze. God, he always loved your eyes. They were so pretty and filled with raw emotions, you could never hide how you were truly feeling. And right now, your brows slightly raised as you kept staring at him told him how worried and anxious you were. But it was when you gently placed your hand on his shoulder that he truly broke.

“You don’t remember me?” He asked and hated how his voice shook with every word he uttered.

Worry turned into confusion in your eyes. “Sorry… I get a lot of customers, even though recently I have quite a really good memory.” You shrugged and smiled. The way your lips curled up, trying to cheer him up, comfort him, it sent another painful memory in Ben’s guts. “I don’t think I saw you before. What’s your name?”

Ben slowly took a step back, even if all he wanted was to get impossibly closer to you. Take you in his arms and squeeze you until you remember him. It had to be you. There was no doubt in his mind. At first, he thought that maybe you were one of Y/n’s grandchildren and just happened to look exactly like the one he lost. But there were too many similarities. How you styled your hair was the same. The way you spoke. The little moles were even at the same spots. And your eyes. They couldn’t lie. You were an open book.

And there was the pendant around your neck.

“Ben,” he said simply. If he thought hearing his name would bring back some sense into you, another sharp pain pierced his chest when you only nodded and politely smiled. “It’s Ben, don’t you remember? Ben, Soldier Boy!” 

It had to happen one way or another. There were simply too many emotions running through him, it was bound to spiral out of control. Pain caused sadness and in sadness, Soldier Boy always turned to anger. That was the reason he avoided anything that could remind him of you. So of course, when no matter what he did, you still couldn’t remember him, he turned to anger. 

This was all a set up. And he was out of patience.

Two steps and he was right in front of you, both his hands on your shoulders. His voice raised when he spoke the next words, shaking you under his strong hold. Asking questions one after the other that would make everyone looking at the scene think he was losing his mind. 

It took only one sound from you to stop him. As quickly as anger exploded inside of him, the fire died. The smallest whimper of pain reached his ears and he was back behind the wheel. 

He was hurting you.

“Fuck, shit,” he muttered, taking a step back, immediately releasing you. Your head was down, your gaze avoiding his. But even if you were not looking at him, he knew, he could feel the pain and the tears running down your cheeks like the water was on his skin. “Hey, hey, Y/n, please, don’t cry, I- I’m sorry,” he tried to get closer again, he couldn’t let you cry, he couldn’t support it, but the moment he tried to approach you, you flinched.

“Please, leave…”

Your voice was barely a whisper. Shaking. Scared. You were so scared. Of him.

His heart broke even more. Never before did he hurt you. He could kill thousands of people in the war. Torture the enemy for information. But see you in pain? See you cry? Be the reason behind your tears?

“It’s okay, Y/n, please. It’s okay. Close your eyes.”

It got out on its own. He didn’t know why, but it felt like the right thing to say. The last thing you told him, not even with words, before you died. 

It was always a comfort for him somehow, when he felt like it was the end… When he felt like he was losing control. He closed his eyes and counted.

“What?”

He thought you wouldn’t listen to him anymore, not after what he did. But to his surprise, you were receptive to his words.

“Close your eyes. Count to 10.”

When Ben did this, it always had the same effect. When he opened his eyes after counting to 10, he remembered. Remembered your words, your face, how to breathe, and immediately felt better. Calmer. Even back in Russia, even after the torture, if he closed his eyes and counted to 10, hell seemed a bit more bearable.

Ben didn’t think you would do it. But you did, closed your eyes and counted to 10 slowly, taking a deep breath to every number you murmured.

When you opened your eyes, it was like an entirely different person was in front of him. You had the same bright beautiful eyes, but now, they were shining with something new. Something different. Something he hoped he would see the moment he saw you in the shop.

“Oh my god…”

You recognized him.

“Ben!”

It didn’t even take a second for you to jump in his arms and hug him like tomorrow would never come. You held him tight, close to you, your feet not even touching the floor, and Ben held you as tight as possible. The embrace was strong, but he controlled his strength. He refused to hurt you again.

“Thank God,” Ben muttered, half laughing half crying. It was the one and only time he would ever allow himself to cry. No tears were shed when he lost you, or all those years he got tortured. But now that he had you again, he could let himself go to his emotions. “I thought I lost you.”

“I thought I lost you too, I-” Even if all he wanted was to keep you close to him, you stepped back to look at him. Both hands on his cheeks, you detailed his features. “You haven’t changed, haven’t aged-”

“You neither,” Ben frowned as he caressed your face as well. “Y/n… You have to tell me, is it really you? This isn’t a dream or a trick, right?” Just thinking about it had his hands clenched and you could feel him tense.

“It’s…” You smiled, tears flowing down your cheeks as well. “Quite the long story actually, I uhm…” Looking around, noticing there was no customer inside, you quickly walked to the door to lock it and turn the sign to closed. Then, you walked back to Ben, took his hand and dragged him to the back of the store to the break room where there was a couch. 

Ben sat down next to you, not letting go of your hand. “I have all the time in the world,” he said. He had to know. Now. “I thought you were dead, Y/n…”

You sighed. “I was.” Ben tensed once again so you placed your other hand on his. “They killed me. Or thought I was dead. But I wasn’t. It was Black Noir’s idea.” Like a movie was playing behind your lids, you closed your eyes and started shaking slightly. “58 minutes later, when everyone was gone, including you, he brought me to Vought to the last floor. Begged Stan Edgar to do something. Though… Black Noir wasn’t talking, something was wrong with his face. It was burnt and bleeding.” Opening your eyes, you looked at him and smiled again. “Looks like you got him good…”

“How…” Ben sniffled and tilted his head, frowning. He knew that part, he lived it. He remembered it. But with that much detail? “How do you remember so clearly…”

He watched you reach out to your necklace and held it tightly. The rest was harder to say, he could feel it. “They gave me Compound V.” You stopped for a couple of seconds to let the words go through his brain and glanced to watch his reaction. Ben was not moving, like he had doubts that was how you made it without aging. He wasn’t surprised and was waiting for you to continue. “It saved me, but I was in a coma for 10 years. When I woke up, they did a bunch of tests on me and concluded that besides not aging, I had no powers so they let me go.” At that, you chuckled sarcastically. “They were wrong.”

Ben nodded, encouraging you to continue. You removed your necklace and placed it in the palm of his hand. 

“This is…” He started as you incited him to open the pendant. A picture of you in black and white on the left side was smiling at him. On the right side, a picture of him with his suit and helmet on.

“I wandered a lot, went almost everywhere. I couldn’t stay too long at one place after all, it's kind of weird to see your neighbor not aging. But in the end, I… Finished my journey back here.” You looked at the place with a sad smile. “It was familiar, and I felt safe, so I stayed. I started to read more and more and ended up noticing something… Weird. I could clearly remember everything that I read, heard or saw. I had the perfect memory. Could learn languages in one sitting. Don’t know how to cook? No problem. Give me 20 minutes. My brain has an insane facility to learn anything… That was the power Compound V gave me.”

“But if you have a good memory, why didn’t you remember me?”

Everything you said so far made sense. The way you remembered everything so clearly. Why you haven't aged. The necklace he gave you back then, necklace you still had. But there were still so many questions left…

Sadness filled up your eyes even more and you sighed. “I have a super memory, but I have a normal brain capacity… I started forgetting more and more memories of my past. I thought it was normal, but I was only in denial. The morning I woke up and forgot you was the day I knew something was wrong.” You offered him a sad smile. “I could never forget my love…” You took back the pendant and closed it. “I went to Vought and they declared it was not their problem. Side effects of a superpower are not unknown after all, and there was nothing to do. The memories I made everyday would end up burying the oldest ones I have. After that day, I decided to wear the necklace all the time and write in a journal what I did during those days. But then, I forgot I had a journal. And I forgot you.”

Ben clenched his jaw and closed his eyes. His hatred for Vought only grew then. They gave you those powers, and when you asked for help, they shrugged it off, not our problem? Anger was building up inside of him, he could feel his insides heating up painfully, rage was overtaking him. But then, a soft touch. Warmth on his skin. Calm voice speaking words.

“Open your eyes,” you asked and he obeyed immediately. Green eyes got lost in yours as he remembered that the last thing you told him was to close his eyes. Like somehow, everything had come full circle. “You’re there now. If you stay, I won’t ever forget you.” A bright smile was now on your lips, it was so warm, all he wanted to do was snuggle against you and live through your smile. “And I sure won’t forget that ugly Hawaiian shirt,” you laughed.

God, he missed your laugh.

Ben wanted to say yes. God, he was about to say yes, stay with you here forever, but you mentioned the shirt he was wearing. Butcher’s. And the whole reason for his presence came back to him.

“I have something to do before,” he said, taking your hands in his to kiss it softly. 

Panic quickly rose on your face. “Wait, no, please, stay?” You seemed pressed, like time was running out.

“It’ll be quick, I promise. I’ll be back before you notice I'm gone.” Ben smiled to reassure you and then got back on his feet. He could do it. Finish what he started, kill the remaining member of his team and then Homelander, and be back here before dinner. He could do it. 

Soldier Boy was so sure of himself when he said his goodbye, kissing you softly on the lips, that he didn’t notice the sheer terror on your face. But it was too late, he was already gone. 

-

Only 3 days had passed.

It was so short.

It happened so fast.

When he came back to the headquarters, they had found Mindstorm’s location. The fight was not easy, the skinny guy tried to save him, but at the end, Soldier Boy had his head. Then, it was Black Noir. The moment he entered the Seven’s tower, he knew something had happened. 

Black Noir was already dead.

Too bad.

Then, there was Homelander. That turned out to be harder than planned, but with Butcher’s new power and Maeve’s help, they did it. They exploded a whole floor in the process, but they got him.

Homelander was no more.

A lot happened in those three days, but for him, it happened so fast it was like he left for 3 hours. 

Once everything was settled, Soldier Boy ran back to your store. He didn’t even bother changing, he bursted through the door in full uniform, ignoring everyone staring at him and asking him for pictures and autographs. 

Scanning through the shop, he searched for you. You were not behind the counter, so he checked in every corner of the book store. Then, he headed to the back, the place where you told him everything that had happened to you. 

“Y/n!” 

As he opened the door, he knew you would be there. Turning your head towards him, you smiled.

“Y/n, I’m back, like I promised. I’m there. I did it.”

Your smile grew bigger on your lips, your eyes shining with so much light, it felt warm inside of him again.

He felt alive.

“Oh my god, is it really true?”

Soldier Boy nodded, a smile as bright as yours on his lips. “Yeah! Like I said.”

“Is it really you, you’re Soldier Boy!”

Wait.

Wait no.

No.

His smile stayed on. But inside, he was screaming.

“No, I mean yes,” he stepped closer to you, watching your face filled with joy. But even if everything told him the real reason why you were so in awe and happy to see him, he refused to believe it. “Y/n… I…Close your eyes.”

Giggling, you put your book on the couch, stood up and did as he said.

“Count to ten.”

Please.

It had to work.

Counting out loud, your smile stayed on.

“Now, open your eyes.”

It worked last time. It worked. You remembered him after all these years. Even if your memory was very bad right now, that your power was eating your past, it'd only been 3 days. 

Your beautiful eyes met his sad gaze again.

He knew without you saying a word.

There was no glint. No shine. Nothing except the excitement of meeting a hero… for the first time. And around your neck, the pendant was missing.

You even forgot to put it on.

“So, do I win something?” 

The earth itself couldn’t support his weight and he had to sit down. Ben sat down on the couch, placing his face against his hands. Trying to hide. Trying to go back in time. Now, he could see it. Could remember it. The panic you had when he told you he was leaving. You were scared, scared to forget him. 

Ben looked down. Defeated. His hands gripped his hair hard and he cursed himself. Why did he leave? Why?! Now it was too late!

As he stared at the floor, something caught his eyes. Reaching down, he cupped the object in his palm and stared.

The pendant.

“Is everything okay?”

Your voice was the same.

You were the same.

The one he lost.

The one that forgot him.

And now, it was too late.

“I saw you on TV, you’re the new leader of the Seven, right? It must be so hard working for Vought.”

Even if you didn’t remember him, you were still so kind. Considerate. You had a hero in front of you and were more concerned about his well being than a fucking picture or an autograph.

“Yeah. Working for Vought is not easy,” he replied, staring absentmindedly at the necklace.

You sat down next to him. “I’m sorry you feel that way. Having a job you don’t like really sucks. I hope that, as the new leader, you’ll be able to find yourself a reason to keep going. And maybe help a lot of people, who knows?”

To that, Soldier Boy could only nod.

“I am the new leader, yeah. And changes need to be done.”

Just like that, the hero got up and left. Something slipped from his gloved hand and fell on the floor. As you picked it up, you tried to catch up to him, but he was already gone. “Damn it,” you muttered and looked at the pendant. Curious, you opened it and looked at the two pictures inside of it. You slowly caressed the picture to the left. “It was probably very important to him… Someone he really loved.”

You kept the pendant and placed it around your neck. Maybe one day, the hero would come back and you could give it back to him.

Forever taglist: @nitnat6245​ @b3autyfuldisast3r-blog​ @eevvvaa​ @fictional-affairs​ @wickedinspirations​ @awkward-and-indecisive​  @peachyaliien​ @katbratsupernaturalwhore​  

Soldier Boy Taglist: @akshi8278​

[theangelssing]

Painting

Ben being Ben, gender neutral!reader, third pov, Ben & reader are a couple, Reader is friend with The Boys

warnings: physical touch (romantic way), fluff & soft mostly, domestic fluff

a/n: this imagine will have a next part, mention of The Boys, only based on the tv show! forget everything about the end of the boys and let’s pretend the boys and soldier boy are friends <3

prompt: You thought Ben was the kind of guy who doesn’t remember anything their partner talk about. But You were wrong, Ben actually does remember everything you’re talking about. Here’s the proof with a painting you absolutely loved.

“Luv, where did you see the painting you were talking about the other day?”

You looked at him with big round eyes.

“Can you repeat, please?” you asked.

He only entered the room but was surprised to see you looking at him like that.

“Uh,, I was asking you about the painting you were talking about the other day. Where did you see it?”

“You mean, the painting?”

“Well, I think so, yeah,” he answered, kind of disturbed by how you were acting. “Doll, you sure you’re okay?”

You didn’t reply straight away, you were trying to understand how he could’ve remembered this small detail.

“We’re both talking about the painting from the small gallery on the street the boys are staying?”

“I guess, yeah, I think so, why?” Ben was slowly starting to worry.

“I barely mentioned it, never thought it was that important for you.”

It was Ben’s turn to look at you with big round eyes.

“Luv, you were really excited to go there only for that painting. ‘course I remember it.”

“Well, true, but it wasn’t the most important thing we did the other day.”

“You said you wanted it in your house. It was important.”

You looked at each other, you still shocked and him still amazed by how you could imagine he wouldn’t have remembered that detail.”

“Anyway, I asked because the exhibition ends today and the owner wants to sell it. Do you still want it?”

You blinked before pinching yourself.

“Luv why are you doing that?”

“Who told you about that? I didn’t mention it!”

“Not to me but you talked about it with Hughie. I was there y’know, still have functional hearing. And a brain.”

“Yeah, right,, sorry. Just didn’t think you would remember that.”

“C’mon, let’s ask the owner so you can have your painting.”

You lowered your eyes, looking at the floor. Ben took your hands, he didn’t understand your brutal change of behavior.

“As sweet as it is from you to propose that, I can’t afford buying the painting,” you sadly said.

“Who said you will buy the painting?”

For the second time you blinked and looked at Ben with big round eyes. You stayed speechless while Ben was grinning.

“Doll, don’t forget who am I, please.”

“I don’t but,,”

“No but, you let me offer you that painting.”

He was strict but sweet as the same time. You still could make your own choice, of course, but you knew he was sincere so it wasn’t difficult.

“You sure? I don’t wanna,,”

“I’m sure luv, if I tell ya,” he replied softly.

You finally nodded and Ben knew it was your answer. A bright smile took place on his lips.

“Right, let’s get ready then.”

He kissed you and you only murmured a ‘thank you’.

“Of course luv, anything for you.”

Ben was hard sometimes, but with you he was gentle, patient. You were happy to be with him, and thankful to the boys for letting you be with him.

[1-800-local-slut]

Intro :)

Hi! I'm Jenny! I'm a black woman and I started this blog because there are a lot of fandoms that don't write for black people. I'm bisexual, and I write for men and women. I write for any fandoms that I'm in (Supernatural, Demon Slayer, etc.,) and I also take request! Thanks for reading <3

[phsychobanana]

In your eyes

Pairing: Zuko x Firebender!reader

Summary: When Zuko falls for a member of the gaang, he fears that his mistakes may ruin his chances with them.

Word count: 2.3k

A/n~ I think this is gender neutral? I don't remember putting any specific pronouns, but correct me if i'm wrong. Enjoy!

Funnily enough, the first time you met Zuko was at the northern water tribe. Two fire benders surrounded by waterbenders during a full moon. Not exactly an ideal situation for any firebender, but you were welcome, whereas Zuko was not.

You were running as fast as you could, your legs carrying you in a speed you didn't know was even possible. Katara was in trouble and the moon was slowly disappearing from the sky, fire nation soldiers were everywhere, the water benders were struggling with the loss of the moon and you were terrified.

"Katara!" You yell to her as you get closer to the girl. She was fighting a boy you had never seen before.

You jump on the boy's back and hold your hand to his throat, heating your palm up slowly.

"I would choose my next move carefully if I were you." You say as Katara puts her own hands to her neck and moves them around trying to mimic an explosion.

Suddenly, the boy moves his hands to your face and you feel a burning swipe across your eyebrow. You let go of him and move your hands to your face, a searing pain on your eyebrow almost making you drop to your knees. Katara rushes to your side in a panic,

You see the boy grab Aang and run off before you could do anything.

"Who was that?" You ask Katara angrily.

"Zuko."

***

Zuko followed you and the gaang around for weeks, those weeks turning into months. And the more he saw you, the more he wanted to see you again.

Unfortunately for him, the more you saw him, the more you wanted to smash his head through a window. But every couple has their problems.

You held a very strong grudge towards him, seeing as your eyebrow had scarred and you now had a line going through your eyebrow and over your eye. It made you angry every time you looked in the mirror.

Unbeknownst to you, Zuko felt absolutely terrible for what he had done. He didn't mean to scar you, he would never wish his fate on anyone. Not even his greatest enemy, which lamentably, happened to be you at the moment.

***

The next memorable time that you saw Zuko was in the crystal cave. You had both been thrown in there as a punishment and you were freaking out. Aang, Katara, and Sokka needed you.

You started hitting the walls, throwing as much fire power at it as possible, you even broke a crystal into one big sharp shard and slammed it against the door repeatedly, but it was no use.

"There's no point in doing that." Zuko says, looking at you with his blazing golden eyes. "We aren't getting out until they want us out."

You just scoff in response, unsure of why he was even talking to you in the first place.

He looks at you when he hears your scoff, "You don't have to be rude."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I hurt your feelings by being mean?" You mock him in a baby voice, causing him to roll his eyes.

"What's your problem?" Zuko asks, looking you up and down with pinched eyebrows.

"What is my problem? You're my problem, Zuko. You've been hunting my friends and I for months, you've hurt us -or attempted to- more times than I can count, you gave me this," You point to your scar, making him flinch, "And you have the nerve to ask me what my problem is?" You let out another scoff and turn around, giving him your back.

Zuko looks down at his hands, not knowing what to say. He watches as you light each one of your fingers up like a candle to keep yourself distracted.

He walks over and sits next to you, doing the same with his fingers.

You look at him and roll your eyes.

He smiles softly to himself. You haven't moved away from him, yet.

***

If there had ever been even a sliver of you that had liked him in that cave, it was completely gone now. He had betrayed you that night in the cave and it hurt you.

It was the day of the eclipse and you were running through the underground tunnels, looking for Sokka. As you were running you bumped into something, falling hard to the ground.

"Ow!" A familiar voice huffed as the other person made contact with the ground.

"Zuko?"

He looks up, his hair falling into his eyes. You notice his eyes widen and light up, but just as he goes to say something you lunge at him.

With your hands around his neck, you yell at him through gritted teeth. "I trusted you!"

"I know, I'm sorry." He barely gets the words out, gasping and clawing at your hands.

You let go of him and slam him into the ground hard.

"I swear to the spirits, if you ever try to hurt my friends again I will kill you with my own two hands. No bending, no help, just me and you." You say and walk away to go find Sokka.

Zuko sits there for a moment replaying what you said in his head over again. A small smile spreads across his face and he jumps up, running after you.

***

"You have got to be kidding me!" You yell at your friends. They were letting Zuko, the guy that had tried to kill you and capture Aang on more occasions than you could count, into the group.

"Everyone deserves a second.....or 100th chance, Y/n." Aang says, placing a hand on your shoulder as Zuko takes a step towards you.

You clench your fist defensively, making him put his hands up in defense as he takes another step forward.

"I get why you wouldn't trust me, but I've changed." He says, taking one of your hands in his. You pull away with a hollow laugh and walk away.

"Fine, let this psycho join us. I don't care." You say as you disappear behind a wall.

Zuko looks down with a sigh. "Challenge accepted..." He says under his breath as he thinks of ways to win you over.

***

Two days after Zuko joined the gaang, you were attacked. A pack of firebenders found you, attacking the group. You all paired together, Sokka with Toph, Katara with Aang, and you with Zuko. You had begged Toph to pair with you but Sokka stole her, leaving you with the one person you did not want.

You were back to back, fighting off the soldiers when another fleet arrived. The gaang chose to run, not wanting to be captured. You stayed behind to fight off the rest of the soldiers so the others could get away.

"Y/n come on! Hurry!" Sokka yelled for you as you were running after Appa. A soldier dived at you and their hand grabbed at your ankle, making you tumble to the ground.

"Go!" You yell and Aang pulls Appa out of there. You kick your foot back at the soldier, successfully kicking them in the face. You run off into the forest, You can hear the soldiers running after you as you twist through the trees.

You feel something grab your arm and pull you toward them. Looking up, you see Zuko. He's not looking at you, instead looking at the soldiers running around looking for you. You notice that he pulled you into a clearing hidden by trees and bushes. He places his hand over you mouth as you go to say something.

His adams apple bobs as he swallows harshly, listening and watching for any signs that the soldiers might be headed towards the two of you. After no signs, he looks down at you, finally making eye contact.

His golden eyes shine as he looks at you and he smiles softly.

"Thank you." You say quietly, not wanting to be too loud.

He nods.

"Do you still hate me?" He asks with a barely there smirk.

You shake your head. "I don't think I ever really hated you." He smiles at you. "I just strongly disliked you. It was a very strong dislike. Very strong."

"Okay, I get it."

You laugh softly at his dismissiveness of the subject.

"Do you think I'm still a bad guy?" His voice is quiet. Barely a whisper, but you hear it.

You look at him, he's looking down at the grass, his fingers are playing with each other out of habit, his hair is fallen over his face and covering his eyes. You never quite realized how pretty he was.

"Of course not-" You begin to tell him your answer, but your words are interrupted by yelling.

The two of you turn your heads in the direction of the noises and see your friends running to you.

"There they are!" Katara calls to the others as she makes eye contact with you.

Zuko lets out a frustrated breath at the interruption, but he gets up and dusts off his clothes, offering you his hand.

***

The days after that moment in the woods would replay in your mind every night before you would sleep, every morning when you'd awake, every meal, every training session with Aang and Zuko, every group meeting, every day all day.

You had started watching Zuko more than you would care to admit. The way he tried to make up for all of his past mistakes always seemed to put a smile on your face. He helped Katara in the kitchen when he could, he always made time to talk about weapons with Sokka, he always played games with Toph and Aang, and he was especially trying to make it up to you. Though you didn't notice that part.

He always pulled your chairs out for you, he helped teach you how to control the lightning within you, he even got you flowers one time. Unfortunately the flowers backfired and Appa ended up eating them, sneezing petals for a week.

You were currently training Aang on the beach with Zuko. The sun was blazing down on your back and your cotton shirt was absorbing all of the heat, making you sweat more than you would normally.

You walk over to where Katara, Toph, Sokka, and Suki are sitting, sipping their little coconut drinks as they watch you and Zuko beat the arrows off of Aang.

You take both ends of your shirt and pull it over your head, leaving you in your shorts and bathing suit top. When you walk back over to the boys you notice how red Zuko's face is.

"You alright over there, Z?" You ask, worried that he might be overworking himself in the heat.

His head snaps to look you in the eyes, his face going an even deeper red.

"Y-yeah, heh. Why wouldn't I be?" He looks around, avoiding looking at you with everything in him.

You decide to ignore his weird reaction to your words and go back to teaching Aang.

"This one is a partner move. So, I'll demonstrate with Zuko and then when you understand how to do it, you can try with him." You explain as you walk over to the spluttering and red as a beet, boy.

You move his hand to your waist and his other in yours, your own face heating up a bit at this position. You then kick his own foot out from underneath him and flip him over your shoulder. You light your hand ablaze and put it near Zuko's neck like one would a sword.

"I thought you said this was a partner move," Zuko groans out.

"Yeah, good guy and bad guy. Partners." You say with a smirk.

"You can do that, right Aang?"

Aang nods his head excitedly.

After another hour or two of flipping Zuko over your shoulders, you all sit down around a camp fire on the beach for dinner. You and Zuko offer to collect the plates and take them back up to the house.

"You did good in training today." He says as he takes the plates from your hands and places them on the counter.

You let out a small laugh.

"Well I would assume I did considering the amount of times I was able to flip you."

He rolls his eyes and you take this moment to admire him.

His hair falls in perfect strands across his forehead, his golden eyes reflect the light of the setting sun peeping through the window, his skin is soft as you place your hand on his.

He looks at you confused when he feels your touch.

"You did good, too." You say softly.

He smiles at this, looking down at your hand that was still on his.

"How do you see me?" He asks, breaking the peaceful silence.

"What do you mean?"

"What am I in your eyes?"

You think for a moment, pondering how your answer.

"You're a person who has made many mistakes." You begin, making his shoulders droop a little bit. "But you are also a person trying to make up for all of those mistakes. You're a kid, a kid who has been through a lot. Yet, you're still sweet and funny and kind and loyal. You try to hide how you feel, but I can still see every emotion you have in your actions. You're trying. And for that, I think you are amazing. That is who you are in my eyes."

He doesn't say anything for a moment, making you feel nervous about how he would react.

With a million thoughts racing through his mind, he decides not to say anything. You said that his actions meant more, so he spoke with an action.

He gently placed his hand on your cheek and leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull away at any second. But you don't.

His lips meet yours in a soft kiss, his hair tickling your cheek. You smile into his kiss making him smile as well. Your arms wrap around his neck and you pull him closer as he pulls away from the kiss. You rest you foreheads against each other, catching your breath.

"I think I like you." He says, making you laugh.

"Oh shut up." You say and lean in for another kiss.

[n0tamused]

Jiyaaaan request coming your way~

While training his soldiers, one of them accidentally calls him 'Dad'. This leads to the reader teasing them but Jiyan teases back by calling them 'Mom' (or the gender neutral for it?)

(Was reading tv tropes and Jiyan had the 'A Father to his Men' tropes in his character tab lol)

A/n: Anon this request was so sweet, thank you sm for sending it in! Jiyan the father of an army fr.. I do hope I executed it well. Enjoy!

Content: Jiyan x F!Reader, fluff and playful stuff, nothing more

The morning sun had long since shifted its axis towards the center of the sky, blazing down through cotton clouds that sailed the azure skies. Below them, in the open fields, west of the main base cacophony sounded, consisting of commands, groans and other sounds of effort as the Midnight Ranger performed their training. And today Jiyan had come to overlook the session himself, although it wouldn’t be the first time. He was often so preoccupied with tasks at the front lines that he didn’t have the time to be leading drills too frequently, but when he did get the chance to do so he would take it. While it wasn’t a full reprieve from the battle, it was still a stark contrast to the grotesque and twisted fates he’d see daily on the battlefield.

Jiyan was noticeably more disheveled by the end, hair messy and hanging in strands and clinging to his sweaty forehead, hands on his hips as his voice rose to meet all ears present. You have just been passing by, helping carry supplies that just came in, and loading old and empty boxes back to be refilled in the city. For once there was no rush that would make your legs ache or your lungs hurt, allowing you all the precious time to bask in the views, the soft chatter and, of course, your dear lover.

The sun caught his figure and formed a golden aura around him, his skin glistening, and you couldn’t help but take a seat at one of many big boxes at the side of the training grounds after you had finished your task. In passing you caught a few looks, and a few smiles of the soldiers you knew from before. They looked much  more lively, despite the rigorous training they just went through. It made your heart warm seeing them in better spirits, wishing nothing more than to see them prevail and be happy. And just as you had recognized a bunch of familiar faces did Jiyan conclude his small speech, about to dismiss everyone with advice of rest hanging on every word. He had spotted you from the start, when you were going by with supplies in arms and soon he’d have a chance to speak to you too, he thought.

“General Jiyan! General Jiyan, a word or two- if I may?” 

It was a voice of one of the new recruits, Jiyan noted as he gazed at the face of the youth, a boy of twenty or so years by the looks of it, and eyes full of curiosity and admiration. He had come up to Jiyan just as he had turned towards you, prompting him to stay rooted in his spot a little longer. A few more young rangers came up behind the recruit, sharing the same curiosity but also being aware of whatever the recruit had on his mind.

“Yes? Is there something you need?” Jiyan questioned, looking at the young man. From his peripheral vision he spotted you moving down from the boxes and joining his side, staying quiet after a short word of greeting towards his Rangers, but your presence felt like a cool breeze under this sun, and he appreciated it all the more.

“I just wanted to say how great today’s training session was, we learned so much more than we did with our drill sergeant” he praised, smiling up at Jiyan all the while, “And I just wanted to ask whether or not you’ll be leading our training session tomorrow as well? Or any other day that is, we would really benefit from your teaching. I mean, you've seen it all for yourself at the front lines!"

The other few with him nodded along, prompting a small smile of pride to form on your face from seeing their fascination with Jiyan. To them he was everything they aspired to be - strong, enduring, tough but not lacking kindness or knowledge. There were times where they were scared to approach him, not knowing how he’d react to their questions, but from observing his interactions with others they warmed up to the idea and plucked all their courage. 

A polite smile curled up on Jiyan’s face as he regarded the youth with gentle golden eyes. His presence as the drill sergeant today wasn’t due to his availability, but a simple coincidence and necessity to fill the shoes of their drill sergeant that had been injured due to Tacet Discords, and Jiyan just happened to be able to be there. “Ah, you have my thanks, rangers. If a replacement for your drill sergeant does not arrive tomorrow and I am not required to be at the front lines, then I will be leading your training tomorrow as well” he told them, which pleased them greatly to hear.  “Although I’m sure Sargent Jin’xi has much more to teach you, something much more important for your sound development in this profession. You cannot take his method lightly. He has seen everything I have, as well. His knowledge is as valuable to your growth, and even more so than mine. You need the good foundation he can give you” He was aware of how confusing or hard it could be to listen to Jin’xi, as the sergeant had quite the eye for details and slow progress in lessons due to his meticulous nature - but that also made him all the better for his station. He was observant and could pluck out bad behavior and mistakes like weeds, and that is better to be done here, than in the middle of battle.

“We know, general, but sergeant Jin’xi is just so hard on us.. sometimes it really seems like he has no limit” one of the women standing behind voiced, earning a look from Jiyan that spoke of his understanding but also his disagreement with the subtle message they were trying to send - please, replace sergeant Jin’xi, or, save us.

“Yeah! One time I accidentally mixed up the weapons in the storage room and he had me do everything on my own again, saying how such mistakes can’t happen on the front lines, how it all means life or death” the first young man said, brushing his fingers through his hair and sighing. “I understand it, but we just got here..” he added and looked at his comrades. 

What was supposed to be a short chit-chat turned swiftly into a gossip galore about Jin’xi. Had Jiyan been any different from the man he was currently, he would’ve scolded them, taken offense at how they spoke about his colleague, but he was in their shoes once, always on edge around the higher ups, and he wished not to bring that same unease to them. He didn’t fail to remind them to not speak like this in front of everyone, and to respect sergeant Jin’xi when he does eventually return, and they gave him their word.

The first young man that approached looked at Jiyan after their discussion, both hands on his hips and looking more relaxed. “We won’t forget that, I promise on my last name! Still, we appreciate your kindness, and one more thing dad- I MEAN- GENERAL!” His entire face crumbled into a look of terror, and all eyes of the group shot to him, looks of surprise and amusement appearing before several of them erupted into laughter after taking a wary glance at Jiyan - who was not offended.

“General Jiyan! Oh god- I apologize, general, I don’t know where that came from-” he stammered, shaking his head and his hands, face flushed from sheer embarrassment. More choked words tumbled out of his mouth, desperate to excuse himself and forget about this. 

Jiyan can’t help but chuckle, the corners of his lips twitching in a failed attempt to hold back his smile. “At ease, recruit. You have not done any crime” he nods at the other, his eyes softening and not showing any sign that he’s about to dish out some punishment - that’d be ridiculous. 

You can’t help but crack a laugh too, covering your lips with your hand as to stifle the sound, but your mirth was evident in your eyes. “Have I missed a chapter? I didn’t know you had kids, general Jiyan” you teased, earning a few shocked but heavily amused looks from the group. Giggles erupted once more, all stifled as they waited for Jiyan to respond to the quip.

Jiyan turns his head to look at you, his eyes boring into yours and questioning your intentions - you can read the thoughts going through your head and your smile only widens in a silent call to a challenge of wits. He didn’t expect you to say something like that, but he could only huff, hiding his amusement under an abrupt guise of confusion.

“Kids?.. Why, I had hoped you’d recognize your own kids, Miss (L/N)” he shot back instantly, making your jaw drop at his rebuttal, a gasp flying past your mouth. “General” you said, accusations plenty heard in your tone as the atmosphere melted into one of jest and play.

Many eyes flickered between you and him, taking in the easy way you conversed with one another.

“Yes? What’s the surprise for? The recruits look up to you too, if you fail to notice. You can confirm with them right now” he is shifting the spotlight to you, and the recruits are quick to jump in too. “It is right, miss. Personally I haven’t been around you for long, no longer than I interacted with the General, but you two are alike, you treat us new ones with a firm but kind hand” a young woman said, smiling at you, and you feel your heart climb into your throat. 

“Can we really be surprised, they’re always together too-” "Aren't they married?" Whispering is heard amidst the group, and Jiyan looks amidst the faces to catch the one that said that but fails to do so, or refuses to weed out the individuals, and his eyes go back to you to catch your response. It’d be a lie to say your relationship with him was a secret, everyone knew there was something deeper between the two of you, something you didn’t show in public due to the war and status, but it was undeniably there. Still, hearing it loud and clear like this was like a splash of cold water. Despite their chatter, the group remained respectful, sweet in their musings.

“Ah, quiet, I do not want to hear it. This is about you, General”

“Ah, don’t run from it now. You’re the one that started this” he commented, rolling his eyes as he folded his arms over his chest. “Anyway, you’re all dismissed. I have a word with.. mother over here. Off you all go. I will see you all in the morning for another training drill. Get some rest” he speaks to the group, gazing upon their faces, only to see how they looked at him with some sort of childhood wonder, and that’s when he realized he must be flushed too. A sheepish smile bloomed on his face. 

“Alright! Awesome-” “Yes, sir!"

“Have a good day, General! And you too, Miss!” 

He watched them leave, bidding them all farewell, and when he turned to face you again he saw you pinching the bridge of your nose, hiding away the biggest smile of the day, the apples of your cheeks redder than before. The Midnight Rangers were undeniably close in connection, having spent so many nights and days huddled together for warmth or laughs or protection, and this small exchange only warmed Jiyan’s heart, to witness how positively they felt around him - and you. 

“Didn’t think we’d become parents so soon. Have we gotten that old already?” Jiyan commented, tone softer in a way he only addressed you when you were alone, and there was no one near the training grounds to hear you.

“Oh, shut up, Jiyan-” you playfully snapped, biting your lip as you looked up at him, stifling a giggle. “You are unbelievable!”

“Hm? Did you expect me to stay quiet today or ignore your quips?” he smiled bigger and you have to admire the little dimples in his cheeks as the smile reaches his eyes, making them squint at you softly.

“I don’t know what I expected, but your response was certainly the last thing I expected” you replied and shook your head, as if that would shake off the redness tinting your skin, imitating him now by crossing your arms. The two of you were looking at each other, wordlessly admiring your red faces while throwing these little quips at one another. 

“Ah.. you’ll get used to it, dearest wife”

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || 141 x reader

[ Chapter 6 ] || [ Chapter 8 ]

Pairing: Price x gn!Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.8K~ cw: SMUT, SMUT, SMUT. oral (m!receiving). sex (protected). Unspecified age gap. John is a little selfish. Also: the boys aren't very happy. Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: tried my best to keep the smut as gender neutral as possible!

Chapter 7: Getting Laid!!

Last night, you and John stumbled in the door of your flat with your lips pressed together.

You swore that was something only happened in romcoms, when the main character and her rival/best-friend/ex/a stranger met at the bar, got drunk, and somehow stumbled in the door and did it right on the kitchen table or whatever.

Nope.

Nope. It happened.

He had his arms wrapped around your torso, one snugly around your hip/lower waist, the other running up over your spine, with his hand sinking into your hair.

He tossed his foot back, knocking the door closed with a donkey kick as your hands struggled to untuck his stupid maroon button-up.

Instead of fumbling with the buttons, he ripped it off himself, a few of the buttons popping off and being sent flying around the room. He shrugged it off himself before guiding you over the living room sofa.

The flat was a mess, you had tried to tell him, because you weren’t expecting to bring him (or anyone, ever) back here. But that wasn’t a concern at that moment.

John fell on top of you on the couch, his hands already ripping your shirt off and throwing it somewhere it wouldn’t get in the way (you’d come to find it behind your flatscreen tv).

His fingers kneaded and caressed your torso, squeezing at your waist as his mouth slide away from yours, over your jaw, and down to your neck, biting down onto it and sucking at the skin like it was his to mark.

Your hands found the back of his white crewneck and you pulled it off, momentarily getting him tangled in it, before you tossed it on the floor. 

You barely had a moment to feast your eyes on the sight of his bare torso before he was slipping your boots off and then dragging your jeans off your legs… Like a rabid animal, primal and hungry. 

You caught glimpses of his figure as he raised your leg and peppered kisses from your ankle, wet tongue jotting out to lick up your thigh toward your underwear.

He’s strong but soft, the owner of large pecks and a warm belly, both covered in thick, dark, coarse hair, that disappear in a happy trail under his jeans.

You pull his face toward yours, locking your lips into a deep kiss again, your tongues finding each other as he holds himself up over you. Pulling away from the kiss, you looked at him. “Flip over…” You whispered.

He didn’t need to be told twice, grabbing you around the waist again and hurling you up as he shifted to sit down on the couch, thighs spread to accommodate the growing bulge in his jeans.

You knelt between his legs, nimble fingers undoing his belt and immediately tugging the dark fabric away from his thick thighs. He groaned in relief as he watched you struggle with his boots for a moment before you succeeded in getting it all off him.

His hand palmed at his hardened cock, eyelids droopy as your hands ran up his legs, feeling the hair in them, and sometimes catching the little bumps and scars of past injuries, some of them discreet, some of them obvious and particularly gnarly. Some of them could rival some of his Simon’s.

You tugged down his boxers briefs, allowing his cock to spring free. It’s uncut, long and decently thick, and his hair is neatly trimmed. The head peeks out just a bit, showing how red and angry it is, the whole length throbbing, needy for your touch.

Your eyes locked onto his, spotting that it wasn’t just his cock that was needy. He looked at you like a starved man about to have a meal. Barely restrained, his jaw clenched, fists tightened shut, the muscles on his thighs taut with anticipation.

You ran your tongue over your palm before wrapping it around his cock, hearing him hiss and throw his head back as you started stroking it. Your other hand slowly, carefully, pulled back the hood of his cock before you wrapped your lips and tongue around it, gingerly sliding it further into your mouth.

You could’ve sworn John was going to have an aneurysm. “Fuckin’ hell… That’s it…” He grunted and huffed consecutively as he tensed up a bit, bucking his hips upward to meet your mouth.

“F-Fuck… That’s it…” He grumbled under his breath as he looked down at you. John had been with plenty of people, but something about the way you looked on your knees with his cock steadily slipping down your throat, got him in a way no one else did.

“Jesus… Fuckin’... Christ…” He dipped his head back as your tongue drew circles around him before you swallowed him deeper, breathing steadily through your nose so as to not choke.

“God… Been… B-Been a while since I got… Christ-” He grunted again, one hand shooting up to grip the back of your neck as he slowly rocked his cock into your mouth, beads of precum drooling over your tongue.

“C’mere.” He demanded as he pulled you back from his cock and up to your feet. He grabbed hold of his jeans from the floor, in search of his wallet and pulled out a whole sheet of condoms which was folded neatly inside, He stuck them between his lips before he stood.

Grabbing hold of you, he walked you across your flat, making use of the sitting room lights to navigate the hall into the bedroom, and dropped you onto your bed. He tossed the condoms aside and his lips crashed into yours, lips parted so that your tongues found each other.

His hands grabbed hold of your underwear and tugged it off, sending it flying across the room while he grabbed hold of the condoms and ripped off one, rough fingers search struggling to open the foil, before he finally succeeded and slipped it on.

“You good?” He checked on you, eyes locked on yours as he slotted himself between your legs, kneeling in front of you and adjusting you to fit him. One leg wrapped around his waist, the other over the bend of his elbow to keep you spread open for him.

“Yeah.” You replied, immediately feeling him rub the leaking head of his cock against your entrance, allowing the lube of the condom to lubricate you just a bit.

It had been ages since you had last gotten laid, a miserable consequence of your ex-boyfriend, Ethan, and one of the main reasons you had broken up. Sex with him, much like your relationship, was dead and unfulfilling.

You felt John push his way inside, slotting himself in the warmth and snugness of your body as you squealed, your head falling back onto the bed. He grunted some incoherent praise, or what you assume was praise, his fingers digging into the extra fat on your legs to keep him steady enough.

He leaned over you, one closed fist on either side of your head, curling you onto yourself and allowing him easier access to thrust into you. Slow, torturously slowly, his cock stretching you and forcing you to accomodate him.

“Fuckin’ hell… So fuckin’ good…” He groaned, eyes closing and mouth falling open as he threw his hips down against yours. It was slow and considerate, but the way he huffed and grunted told you it was already too much for him.

But John was a man of focus. He uncurled his fists in order to grip your bed covers and squeeze them tight as his hips bounced off yours, his weeping girth always burying itself to the hilt before he pulled back again, making sure to bottom out every time.

You whimpered and moaned, eyes screwed closed and a shiver running down your spine every time the bouncy cock plunged into you, the upward tilt of it making sure to drag dangerously slowly across the one spot in your body that caused your mind to go blank, stars prickling in the corners of your eyes.

“F-Fuck… John…” You sighed as he kept the torturously slow pace, somehow driving you crazy just as much as he would while pounding you into oblivion.

“Yeah… that’s it. Moan my name, love.” He ordered as he leaned closer.

“J-John…” You cried out softly as his hips stuttered lightly, causing him to bury himself deep twice in a row.

“I know, darling. I know.” He grumbled. “You haven’t gotten properly shagged in a while, have you?” He taunted a bit. “Haven’t either, sweet thing…” He added.

His hands grabbed your jaw on either side, his thumbs hooked onto your cheeks, the remaining fingers slipping under and around your ears, nails digging lightly into your scalp.

“I’ll make sure to make it last as long as possible, hm?” He added as he kissed at your lips, sucking your bottom lip between his lightly.

-

John was in a much better mood when he sat down for breakfast at the mess hall with Ghost, Gaz and Soap. He actually greeted them with a ‘Good morning’, his tray was piled high with food and his hair was wet from a recent shower.

The other three were looking at him with raised brows and intrigued glances, even if Ghost was trying to be discreet about them. They could read between the lines to know he had gotten lucky with you the night before, so they didn’t need to ask questions they knew the answers to.

Instead, they exchanged glances and kept eating their breakfasts… All except for Simon, who was simply drinkin a cup of breakfast tea.

“I don’t think it’s fair.” Soap ended up saying as Price was halfway through shoveling a hash brown into his mouth.

“What isn’t, Soap?” Price asked, eyes narrowed in confusion, and brows scrunched.

“We all matched ‘em on Tinder and didn’t get more than a ‘I’ll think about meetin’ up with you’.” The younger sergeant explained halfway through chewing his bite of sausage. “You meet with ‘em, get a shag… And we did all the work for it.” He added. “But when it comes to us ourselves, they don’t want us.” He complained.

“What are we gonna do?” Gaz complained. “Maybe they just like older men…” He said with a shrug. “Sucks but there’s other people out there.” He adds while drinking his orange juice.

“Are you seriously going to call dibs on the fact you saw ‘em before Price?” Ghost said in surprise.

“I’m just saying!” Soap grunted and shoveled some more scrambled eggs into his mouth.

“Learn to take rejection with class, MacTavish. It’s going to happen to you more and more often as you get older.” Ghost quipped.

“Awa' an' bile yer heid!” Soap scoffed and flipped the middle finger at Ghost.

Meanwhile, the Captain was giving them all a look, while staying silent, seeming amused by their antics and a little by their jealousy. He could tell that despite the fact Gaz and Ghost had disagreed with Soap, their eyebrows were also furrowed in contemplation.

So, he simply turned off to the side and drank from his own tea with a smug smirk on his lips.

taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @zombie-freak , @wittleespur , @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago

[librababe99]

Hi Loves! This will be my first time EVER participating in Kinktober and honestly i'm so excited to do this🤭 Below I will be posting my lineup.

❥・All of these stories will be "Character x Reader" and I promise there won't be any use of Y/N.

❥・Female Reader or Gender Neutral Reader will be featured.

❥・ If you'd like, you can comment your choices below and I will tag you OR use this link: CLICK HERE

Logan Howlett x Reader: Knife Play (ft. Claws)

Scott Summers x Reader: Sensory Deprivation

Old Man!Logan x Fem!Reader: Pregnancy kink

Young!Charles Xavier x Fem!Reader: Face sitting

Remy Lebeau x Virgin! Reader: Praise kink

Young!Erik Lensherr x Fem!Reader: Threesome (Ft. Charles)

Hank McCoy x Fem!Reader: Cunnilingus

Wade Wilson x Reader: Dom/Sub, Lingerie

Piotr Rasputin (Colossus) x Reader: Thigh Riding

Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader: Breeding

Tony Stark x Fem!Reader: Infidelity

Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader: Breast worship, titty fucking

Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader: Period Sex

Loki x Fem! Reader: Seduction, Body Worship, Collaring

Victor Von Doom (RDJs vers.) x Reader: Corruption

Peter Parker x Reader (Andrew Garfield's vers.): Bondage

Johnny Storm x Reader: Wax play, temperature play

Reed Richards x Reader: Sex Pollen

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader: Mirror Sex

Dick Grayson x Fem!Reader: Shower sex, deep throating

Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader: bimbofication

Clark Kent x Reader: Breath play, choking

Hal Jordan x Reader: Drunk / anonymous sex

Billy Butcher x Fem!Reader: Brat Taming

Soldier Boy x Fem!Reader: BDSM, Sadism/masochism

Homelander x Reader: Somnophilia (Sleep sex)

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader: Edging, orgasm denial

Javier Peña x Fem!Reader: Lap dances, Rough sex

Jack Reacher (Alan Ritchson's vers.) x Fem! Reader: Size kink, overstimulation, creampie

Old Man! Logan x Fem! Reader: Food play (ft. Whipped Cream)

Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader: Roleplay, Hunter/Prey

[pyrodolls]

superfan! and stalker! yandere boys x reader hcs (but they're animal hybrids)

✰ warnings: obsessiveness, sfw, murder, mentions of corpses, just overall unhealthy behavior cuz they're yanderes. (i do not condone yanderes irl and this is for writing purposes) gender neutral reader, no use of y/n.

✰ a/n: guys idk why i havent updated in so long. ig i just havent had much motivation?? anyways ummm i'm still super busy right now and i have 400 assignments due in 3 days but i don't wanna do them soooooo how about i write some short and cute headcanons for y'all? 😁

if bayani was a puppy hybrid...

clingy clingy CLINGY

bros going wherever you go. even if u gotta take a piss he's gonna hold your hand. wait, you don't want him in the bathroom with you? at least let him sit outside!

he is very easy to distract, though. if you ever want to be alone for a while but he just won't leave your side, throw a tennis ball somewhere and it should keep him busy for a solid 10 minutes.

loves snuggling with you. he literally distracts you and takes up at LEAST one hour every morning trying to keep you in bed with him. if you leave him alone in bed, he'll be whining until you come back.

he's also very talkative, and always yapping your ear off about random nonsense, until you tell him to shut up. problem is, if you tell him to shut up, he isn't going to open his mouth again for a few days. he'll be very sulky about it and look up at you with those big puppy dog eyes of his, silently hoping you'll allow him to speak again. as much as he loves hearing you yell at him, he still doesn't want you to be mad at him for long periods of time.

he'll eat anything you cook. you could be the worst cook in the world and burn your dish to a crisp, and he'd still eat it up like it's nobody's business. he doesn't even notice if it's well cooked or not, he sees anything you create as a masterpiece.

but this also means he's like a guard dog! even though he is quite small and his face isn't very intimidating, he tries! he goes to the gym frequently so he can be stronger for you. he wants to be able to defend you if anything goes wrong.

he is very patient. if you have any work or assignments you need to get done, he'll sit and wait however long you need him to. he'll even bring you beverages and snacks so you can keep working without getting up.

overall, he has some similar traits to a puppy, but he's still the same optimistic (and obsessive) bayani.

if victor was a cat hybrid...

LMFAOOO good luck getting away from him.

bros a silent killer. he watches from afar. if you happen to feel his eyes staring at the back of your head, and you look to see if your feeling is correct, he'll snap his head the other direction so you don't suspect a thing.

he follows you around, but unlike bayani, he wouldn't stop if you asked him to. and he isn't in your personal space, he is much farther away so it's harder to tell when he's tailing after you.

and like a cat, he proudly brings you dead things and is convinced that you would like it. usually he kills anyone that seems to be too close to you, and shows it off like a trophy of his affection and strength.

victor would kill someone and be like: "this week's new corpse looks awesome. they'll totally love this, i gotta show them!" (you did not, in fact, love seeing the rotting corpse of your friend on your doorstep.)

he guards your house as if he's a soldier at war. if he sees anyone break in, or if it's an insect that happened to fly in through your vents, he'll eliminate the threat before you even notice it.

he's also quite moody. sometimes he's affectionate and kind to you, then the next minute he'll act like a brat and expect you to cook and clean for him.

and if you called him out on his behavior, he'll act all pouty and mutter: "i don't do that.." then he'd get up and silently do some chores around the house as an apology. if you brought up his acts of service, he'll get flustered and say you were "too lazy to do it yourself" or something along those lines.

overall, he's quiet, moody, and does things his own way. unlike bayani, victor doesn't do anything you ask him to do, but he still shows his affection for you in his own subtle ways.

[killerpancakeburger]

Breaking point (2/2)

SUMMARY: Civilian!Reader, who works as Price's assistant, has a breakdown at work. Soap+Ghost help the best they can. Hurt/comfort. Can be read as platonic or romantic. Gender Neutral Reader.

PAIRINGS: Soap x GN!Reader

Ghost's version (1/2) Soap's part 2. Soap's part 3.

TAGS: Hurt/comfort. Military inaccuracies (I make shit up for the sake of the plot). Soap is tooth-rotting sweet.

WARNINGS: Mention of relative in the hospital, suicide ideation, depressive thoughts, swearing.

WORD COUNT: 4.3k

A/N: Very self-indulgent, Reader is going through it and so am I. 🙃Soap is Prince Fucking Charming (very cliché romance tropes). Yours truly suggest to listen to "Strong For Somebody Else" by Citizen Soldier to set the mood. (Song includes suicide ideation and depressive thoughts too, so listen at your own risk).

This bad good boy gave me a harder time than expected lol.

After ending the call, you put down your phone on your desk in a daze, hand shaking.

The news you’ve just been told cannot be real. Life could not possibly be that cruel. What did I do to deserve this? you wonder helplessly. It’s like every time you get back up, life knocks you down again, sending you tumbling on the cold, hard ground.

Clenching your fists, you stare into space, a thousand thoughts disorderly swirling inside your brain, all bursting with anguish, until a burning tear running down your cheek brings you back to the present. You’re at work, your boss is in the next room; a breakdown is a luxury you cannot afford right now. Better bite your tongue hard enough to draw blood than be caught sobbing. 

Inhaling a shaky breath, you take your head between your hands, shoving your fingers into your hair, trying to convince yourself to postpone your nervous collapse. Only one hour left, and you’ll be free to cry your eyes out at your flat. Or on the way home, even. It’s not like the other passengers ever paid you attention the other times you’ve cried on the bus.

But somehow your attempts have the opposite effect, and more tears roll down your face, staining the papers beneath it. As you furiously wipe your face with your sleeve, with a blend of frustration and despair, pissed at yourself, and wanting to get rid of the evidence of your fragile state as fast as possible, the unmistakable sound of your office’s door opening makes you look up.

Of freaking course of all bloody people that could have walked in on you, it had to be Soap fucking Mactavish. Only the most gorgeous man on base - according to you, that is.

You weren't proud of it, but you had a crush on him since you arrived, six months ago. His piercing cerulean eyes, rugged good looks and outgoing personality wouldn’t let you know peace. The mere sight of him was enough to bring a goofy smile to your face, and every conversation between the two of you left you blushing and elated.

You initially thought that this silly, juvenile infatuation would fade away soon enough. Ok, he was beautiful, and he had eyes to damn yourself for, so what? Surely with enough time and exposure, he'd feel mundane. But things didn’t go that way at all.

On top of looking stunning, he just had to be friendly. He made you feel welcome when you arrived. He made efforts to include you in conversations, asking questions to get to know you. He relieved you of the burden of small talk, appeasing your social anxiety, by happily keeping the conversation going on his own, never taking offense when you had nothing to say. He chose to spend some of his free time with you, escorting you back from the archives or dropping by your office.

He was even flirty at times. Flirty. With you.

You could have still disregarded all this; tell yourself he was like this with everyone, that it was just his personality; imagining things would only end up with you hurt in the end.

But then, during a meeting, you witnessed his sincere concern for civilian lives. His righteous anger against unjust orders, when you had fully expected a soldier to obey mindlessly.

This had been your undoing; the moment you knew you were a goner. A severe fondness for him had sunk its claws deep inside your chest and had no intent to let go. It didn’t mean you had any intention to declare your feelings though; you never entertained the thought that he could return them, therefore there was no need for any confession.

For him to be the one to have caught you in this state, it was downright humiliating. Especially since his good heart would make him feel obligated to care.

He was still wearing his leather, fingerless gloves, and some dirt lingered on the contour of his face, like he tossed his weapons and his flak jacket to the side right out of the heli bringing him back to base, and rushed here.

“Hiya hen, brought you the- Shite, what happened?”

His booming voice and cheerful tone fade away as his eyes widen with concern. He briefly freezes at the door in shock before closing the distance to your desk with great strides. You lower your eyes in shame, avoiding his gaze.

“Nothing. Nothing happened. Everything's fine.”

“No offense, bonnie, but yer not very good at lying.”

You bit your lip, forcing yourself to look at him. Staring at your own lap is only going to make you seem more suspicious.

You grit your teeth and lie some more, trying to sound carefree.

“It's nothing, really. I'm just being a crybaby.”

Crybaby.

Soap turns the word over in his mind, unconvinced.

He still remembers that one time when you showed up thirty minutes late to a meeting with the Task Force, panting, leaning on the threshold, the front of your clothes soaked in blood.

 “Sorry I’m late,” you started.

“‘Sorry’ isn’t going to cut it,” Price interrupted before laying eyes on you. “Bloody hell, what happened to you?”

You explained how Private what's-his-name bled out in the break room after carelessly reopening his stitches and you had to stop the hemorrhage with your bare hands and a bunch of paper towels while shouting yourself hoarse for help. Yet when Price ordered you to take the rest of the day off, you insisted on going on as usual, forcing their captain to make it clear that it wasn’t a mere suggestion.

You and him had a different definition of “crybaby”.

Clinging to what's familiar, you focus on the stack of papers under his arm.

“You have the latest reports? Give it here.”

You hold out your hand expectantly. Instead of giving them to you, he sets them down on the opposite side of your desk, out of your reach.

“Paperwork can wait.”

You blink in astonishment at him.

“No it cannot…?”

You roll your eyes at his behavior and get up to seize the reports, but he snatches them from you. You can feel your composure snap like a twig.

“Johnny, what the hell?!” you yell, throwing your hands in the air.

You could remember exactly the first time you called him Johnny, only because it had been such an embarrassment. You couldn’t get used to his alias; sure you had been warned beforehand that some of them were… original, but somehow "Soap" was the one that stood out as the most ridiculous. You briefly entertained the idea of using his first name, except that for you “John” already referred to Captain Price. Only once you tried to call him Mr Mactavish, and as a result Gaz and him guffawed so hard they almost fell off their chairs. Even Ghost let out a cough that was most definitely a concealed laugh. You were running out of options until you heard the lieutenant call him Johnny; you instantly liked it. It just… fitted him. 

From that moment on you used the nickname, but only in your mind. You didn’t have any of the liberties Ghost had and you wouldn’t take them, out of respect, and shyness. Or at least this had been the plan until you fumbled and called him that to his face. The ensuing silence felt deafening as you were realizing what you’ve just done, and you apologized immediately, mortified. 

He just laughed it off; said you could keep calling him that. True, he had appeared more surprised than irritated, but you didn’t want to take the risk of him simply being polite. This too, had been your plan, until he ruined it merily. 

Somehow he must have noticed your efforts to not slip up again because he teased you about it. 

“Not Johnny today? Did ah dae something wrong?”

You went back to “Johnny” quickly - anything to put an end to the mischievous glint in his eye and the rascally smirk on his lips aimed at you. Being the target of his undivided attention sent a pang in your chest and knots in your stomach. Those sensations weren't exactly unpleasant, but it led to an ominous feeling that this was too good to be true, and that at any second this vision would shatter to reveal the cruel reality; so you'd just grant him a timid smile to confirm he did amuse you, but then proceed to look away.

It's the first time you’re pronouncing “Johnny” with anger; real, raw annoyance, as well as animosity, instead of the fond frustration you usually display when he messes around.

To your utter disbelief, he smiles in response to your outburst. 

“There we go, talk tae me. Even if it’s just tae scream at me.”

The remark pacifies you instantly; you lower your arms, defeated.

“I'm not gonna… I don't want to scream at you.”

You sigh and sit back, setting down your elbows on your desk to take your head between your hands, overburdened.

“The hell you want me to tell you? That my mom's on the brink of death out of nowhere? That when she's gone I'll be all alone in this world?”

You swear, aggravated, as tears sting your eyes again, and this time you ignore if you'll be capable of holding back the flood.

Nevertheless you can still hear Soap curse under his breath, Scottish accent growing thicker, before moving to get on your side of the desk, to reach you, dispensing soft-spoken, soothing words along the way. You pivot to face him, your burning eyes and the sensation of dried tears on your face making you painfully aware that you must look as pathetic as you feel.

Your eyes widen in surprise when you see him kneeling at your feet. His hands reach for your face, slowly enough to give you time to back away if you wanted to.

“A'm sorry, ah didnae mean tae mak' ye cry, a'm a bloody eejit. …Can I?”

His fingers stopped a breath away from your tear-stained cheeks. 

At that exact moment you can’t quite believe what he's about to do, yet you nod your head in agreement - not trusting your voice to not break - all the same, the gaping void in your chest aching for any kind of contact he'd be willing to provide.

His warm fingers cup your cheeks as the pad of his thumbs gently, almost reverently, wipe the underside of your eyes.

“There we go,” he cajoles, meticulously drying any wet spot on your skin.

“A'm ‘ere whether ye want tae talk or not, aye? A'm not going anywhere.”

You stare at him in silence, thunderstruck by the scene unfolding in front of you. Never in your wildest dreams you would have expected to have this man at your feet. He sets his hands down on your knees, squeezing them softly, and is looking right at you, encouraging smile and tender gaze, reassurance radiating from his expression. The position allows you to greedily take in every little detail: the white line of the scar on his chin, the breathtaking shades of blue in his eyes, the gap in his left eyebrow.

As you lose yourself into the work of art that are his features, he keeps conversing.

“We should take yer mind aff things. We could play board games in tha rec room. Or ye could let aff some steam wi’ tha punching bag in tha training room! Ah could teach ye how tae shoot on tha shooting range-”

You open your eyes wide as his suggestions turn progressively more violent.

“I have a bus to catch, and that's overlooking the fact that I haven't done anything in my last hour of work today…”

“If anyone gives you trouble, just say ah forced you.”

You chuckle at the idea.

“You'd never compel me to do anything.”

You can’t repress a loving smile. Johnny just feels that safe to you.

He smirks mischievously at that.

“Na, but they'll believe ah dragged ye intae mah evil schemes.”

He punctuates his statement by a roguish wink that wrests a laughter from you.

“You should take my bed,” he declares suddenly, serious again.

As the silence between you two stretches and your smile is replaced by a mix of shock, confusion, and worry, he realizes how this may sound. Flustered, he starts rambling to defuse the situation.

“Wait, no- steamin’ jesus - Ah didnae mean it like that! I’d take the couch in the rec room, ‘f course. Ye shouldn't go through tonight alone.” 

“Oh my god, Johnny, I could never take your bed from you. You must already sleep on the floor so often for missions…” 

“Exactly, hen. This is nothing for me. The couch is a hotel compared to that.”

You open your mouth to argue more, but then he makes an expression that can only be described as sad puppy eyes, even going as far as slightly tilting his head to the side to perfect the impression. You gulp in response, stricken straight through the heart, and knowing pertinently that you could already hardly refuse him anything, so if he begins to gaze at you like that… 

“Pretty please?” 

Oh no. Not that line.

He's now excessively batting his eyelashes at you, which, while not exactly alluring, is both comical and endearing. Hell, who are you even kidding? You’re so smitten with this blue-eyed creature, is there any act from him you wouldn’t find endearing?

“Are you… pouting?” 

“Depends. Is it working?”

You sigh, aware it's a losing battle, and look away, a futile attempt to hide the ridiculously potent effect he has on you, or to at least shield yourself from his influence, if only momentarily.

“I think you know the answer to that.”

“Maybe ah just wantae hear ye say aye tae me.”

Your cheeks catch fire at the suggestiveness of the words. As if the regular rasp of his voice, that felt like an exquisite caress along your spine, wasn’t already making it incredibly difficult to keep your face at a reasonnable temperature.

“You're gonna get me fired, Johnny.”

“Over my dead body,” he retorted with surprising determination, solemnly pressing a hand over his heart.

You scoff indulgently. Coming from anyone else, the hastily taken oath would be preposterous, but Soap has always proved himself trustworthy.

“Let's go. Your knees must be sore,” you mumble, trying to sound casual.

“Wanna make a joke aboot mah stamina when kneeling but ah will keep it fur next time,” he slips as he stands up, way too smugly for your own good, so you pretend you didn’t hear anything. As if you needed any more incitement into picturing him on his knees in a different context. 

You get up quickly after, but he does not get out of your way. You rise a quizzical eyebrow, his close proximity triggering alarm bells inside your head. If he remains near enough for you to feel his body heat, you’re going to get dizzy.

He simply grins.

“Want a hug?”

You blink at the unexpected question. Yes, implores your touchstarved mind. YES, cries out your sensitive, enamored heart. 

No way, rebuffs your cautious brain. It will only hurt more knowing what you  can’t have.

He opens his muscled arms, smile genuine, almost blinding, like a tacit invitation, and all your reluctance seems to evaporate with that simple gesture. Before you can linger any more on the harmful consequences this lack of restraint will eventually cause, you throw yourself into his embrace. It feels like falling and flying all at once.

Your hands close on the back of his shirt, near his shoulder blades, and, pressing your face into his shoulder to make the world disappear for a moment, you cling to him like he could rescue you from the sinking ship that was your sick mind. One of his arms close around your waist while his free hand rubs your back, leaving trails of fire in its wake, but bringing you much-appreciated comfort nonetheless.

“You're too nice to me. I feel like I'm taking advantage of your kindness.”

He remains silent a drawn-out second, and you're terrified you just screwed everything up.

“Yer givin me too much credit, lass “ he finally says. “Ah don't go ‘round base comforting every person I find.”

His tone isn’t angry, per se, but it lacks its previous joviality.

Soap tilts his head back, biting his lips, thanking the universe that with your face laying against his chest, you can’t perceive his embarrassment.

He can’t tell you. Not yet. Not now.

He can’t tell you that he used to consider writing reports as the worst part of the job until you came along; until you awarded him a heartfelt, radiant smile when he gave you his; that he noticed how little you smiled outside of artificial ones you fabricate for work purposes; that when he manages to make you smile or laugh genuinely, it feels like a prize, that only he is privy to.

Months ago, he took the resolve to make you smile more; for a while now he started doing his reports more seriously, or even did the ones of Gaz and Ghost, just to have an excuse to see you, to behold the way your face lightens up when he brings you necessary paperwork before you even demand it.

And he certainly can’t tell you about that one time where he handed over his reports in advance, but you weren't there, so he left, heart heavy with disappointment, dragging his feet, until he heard your voice coming from the room he just left.

“What are those?” you questionned your coworker.

“Soap just dropped them.”

“But… I didn't even ask him to yet?”

Perplexity combines with glee in your voice.

“He's a good boy, isn’t he?” prompted your colleague.

You let out a fond, wistful sigh, before responding, half-joking.

“I know! Such a good boy for me.”

Getting to hear you beaming over his benevolent action was already a treat, but witnessing that compromising exchange? To be called a “good boy” by you short-circuited him. He swore - “Steamin jesus” -, ears burning, face on fire, covering it with one hand. He needed to leave badly. Seek refuge in his room, where he could be free to replay that tantalizing line on loop in his mind. “Such a good boy for me.”

Your heart beats a bit faster than usual as you obediently follow Soap through corridors you’ve never been in before. You trust him with all your heart, but that doesn't change the fact that what you’re doing is against the rules; and those rules aren't high school's, but the ones of a military base.

You flinch hard as a familiar voice screams in your direction.

“SERGEANT MACTAVISH!”

Oops, you think. That's Captain Price, your supervisor, and he sounds pissed. You never witnessed him calling Soap by his last name before, but that being said, you never saw him deal with a kidnapped assistant either.

You've been caught red-handed. 

Your mind begins to come up with plans to lessen the punishments that are without doubt about to descend upon you two, but Johnny grabbing your hand brings you back to reality. 

You lift your gaze to him. He doesn't seem worried at all, if anything… is that a spark of delight in his eye?

He only pronounces one word.

“Run.”

So you run, carried away half by adrenaline, and half by the sergeant dragging you. Thankfully Soap is aware that there's no way you can keep up with him and his training, so he comes to a halt a minute later.

Panting hard, you double over, hands clenching your knees for support, heart thumping in your chest, blood throbbing in your ears.

“Why… are we… running…!?” you manage to exhale. “It's only… gonna make… things worse…”

By your side, he's standing fresh as a daisy, barely ruffled by your flight. The sight would be infuriating if his eyes weren't glinting with amusement and he wasn’t offering you a dazzling smile.

“Because it's fun,” he affirms like it's evident.

Little by little, you catch your breath, throwing Johnny a look that's half in earnest, half in jest.

“More fun for you than for me.”

He doesn't get flustered by your moderate reprimand.

“Is it selfish o' me tae wantae spend more time wi' ye? Didnae want us tae git interrupted yet.”

The line feels like a punch to the chest, stealing the breath you just recovered and leaving you agape.

He takes your hand again with the natural of a well earned habit.

“C'm'on, ah have more than one trick up mah sleeve.”

You're unsure which of the views unfurling under your eyes is the most magnificent; the sunset in front of you that's painting the sky in shades of pink and orange, or the striking man by your side whose eyes could rival the most astounding sights.

Nibbling on the dinner Soap smuggled out of the cafeteria with too much ease for it to be his first time, you regularly sneak glances at him as he fills the silence with tales of his adventures - the parts that aren't top secret, at least. You two totally did not break onto the roof moments ago, no sir.

Goosebumps travel along your arms and any exposed skin as the night falls and the sun takes away the warmth with him. You furiously brush the outside of your arms for heat, and you're about to suggest finishing this inside, when a jacket lands on your shoulders.

It is still warm with his owner's bodyheat, deliciously so. You curl up and drag it closer, your face on fire. Realizing that Soap gave you his jacket without you even having to ask or complain about the cold… you’re conflicted between obsessing over this like a giggling schoolgirl, and feeling apologetic.

Once you more or less got your blushing under control, you turn to him, displaying a contrite expression.

“I don't want to take your jacket on top of your bed, Johnny.” you pout.

“A'm a bloody furnace. Wanna check?”

He asks, cheekily, even adding a wink for good measure. As if there was any more artifice needed to make you putty in his hands.

He presents you his bare arm for the taking, all golden skin, bulging muscles and a constellation of white scars.

You indulge him and lay a hand on his bicep, knowing he won't relent otherwise; that is definitly the only reason; it has absolutely nothing to do with your own desires.

Indeed, he's burning. As you envy and bask in the heat provided by his body, forgetting that your touch is lingering too long for someone who is just a coworker, he chooses that moment to flex shamelessly, showing off the impressive circumference of his muscle. You feel obligated to squeeze it in response, a way to finally meet him head-on instead of passively enduring his quips, and it feels like reinforced concrete under your fingers.

You fail to hold back your laughter at his facetious demeanor. 

“You're ridiculous.”

The comment holds no bite, a smile brimming with tenderness stretching your lips.

“I'll be the most ridiculous man on the planet if it makes you laugh.”

He's leaning back, hands propped on the ground behind him, head slightly tilted to gaze at you, and the earnestness on his face could almost make you believe his words.

Almost.

But instead a sharp pang pierces your chest, right between your lungs, at heart's level. The smile you return him in spite of yourself oscillates between content and heartbroken, before opting for the latter. 

Tomorrow you will ask him, maybe even plead; tomorrow you'll ask him to put an end to the flirting. You cannot bear it. 

But just tonight, you'll indulge it. You'll pretend to be normal, a well-adjusted human being, instead of a broken shell; you'll act like an adult for who flirting is a regular event and not the mental equivalent of a nuclear bomb.

You abruptly stand up, dusting yourself off, purposely ignoring the newfound lack of understanding on Soap's face and how his mouth opened for a question.

“It's getting late,” you state, not nearly as casually as you'd like. “I'm beat!”

You're running away and you know it; but you never claimed to be brave. Really, it is the best solution for everyone involved, or at least it's how it has always seemed to be your whole life.

He escorts you to his room - of course he does. Even if he already picked up his things earlier to crash on the couch, already showed the place to you.

As you awkwardly face him on the doorstep after saying your goodbyes and your thanks, unable to look away yet incapable of making eye contact, pain flares in your torso thinking of him, somehow intertwined with joy and gratefulness for his existence. Maybe your inner struggle shows on your face because next thing you know, he cups your cheek, forcing you to look up, but as the deranged idea that he's about to kiss you manifests in a remote corner of your mind, your brain swiftly shuts off as his lips make contact with your forehead.

The touch is light yet your entire being seems gathered on that point of contact.

“G'night, bonnie,” he half-whispers, as if to make sure his words exist only for you.

He grants you one last smile, small but so sweet you feel your heart tightens.

“Good night, Johnny,” you manage to articulate before sheltering in his bedroom. The room smells like him.

The moment the door shuts behind you, you rest against it, tilting your head back, letting out a deep sigh. Morbid curiosity pushes you to glance in the adjacent bathroom's mirror, if only to see what you look after this evening. A flustered mess? A sorrowful wreck?

Catching your reflection's eye makes you grimace as you realize an incriminating detail.

You forgot to give Soap his jacket back.

[erinfern0]

cutting the cord

spencer reid x explosives specialist!gn!reader

— gender-neutral nicknames, gender-neutral anatomy, only pronouns used are you, they, etc.

summary: the team struggles with a group who planned to plant a bomb in a town hall to spread awareness of their cause. as the only technicians available in the area are busy with another emergency, Spencer finds himself calling you, the closest off-duty technician he knew, despite how much he hates the idea.

warnings: emotional, angst(?), some swearing, love confession, and obviously stress, anxiety and fear for your life, etc. cliffhanger

a/n: this was highly inspired by episode 'hero worship' from season 10 of Criminal Minds. I haven't written anything besides smut for such a long time I wanted to give something like this a try. Itt's also over like 2,5k words long--- (I'm so sorry i don't even know how i wrote it)

Doomsday Prophets - The group they were tracking started off small, with a bunch of troubled, unsupervised teenagers led by their online guru, who believed the system was too flawed to even try to repair it. They spent their first months spreading their agenda with countless flayers and graffiti murals all over the most popular places in the city. No one knew his real name, just the internet alias of doomsking130. Even the great Garcia couldn't track him in time before one of his sidekicks got brutally beaten for trying to leave.

Countless informants, and hours spent in interrogation rooms with lower-ranked members and the injured boy, lead them to the leader struggling with psychosis and an overwhelming god complex. He believed the only way to get people's attention was to set a bomb in a nearby town hall in the early morning hours, showing even the government can't protect people from the truth, at least that's what the team thought.

He never even thought there might be security guards waiting for him, informed about his plans by the FBI. As soon as they saw him entering the building via security cameras, they called no other than SSA Hotchner, who had warned them earlier that something like this might happen soon. His team quickly moved into action, hoping they could stop him before he set up the bomb, just to avoid getting help from Bomb Techs.

“Dave, you and I go from the staff-only entry on the left, Morgan and Jareau take the right window, the security guard who called left it open,” said Agent Hotchner, pointing the right directions to his team, watching them split. “Reid and Callahan, you enter the front and look for any worker left in the building.”

Everyone nodded in understanding, splitting and running to their destinations with their guns in their hands. Dr. Reid could feel a tiny drop of sweat running down his brow as he pointed another person toward the front door. People ran away in fear but kept their mouths closed not to alarm the criminals' leader.

Some time passed, leading the team to the building's basement, where the leader set up his life's biggest achievement. A small-looking detonator, connected to two canisters of gasoline, was set next to the power outlet. The arrest was quick, he didn't try any games or to run away, he simply allowed Agent Rossi to cuff him, because the damage was done.

Or was about to be done.

The bomb was already set, giving the team one and a half hours to deal with it as the unsub refused to help. He screamed about how the government tries to control the youngest of all to be their mindless little soldiers. How the system was set to manipulate the youth into dying for the country that didn't care about them. He laughed as Agent Morgan inspected the bomb from a distance.

“Y'all are a part of their games, agents,” he spat as agent Rossi guided him to the door. “All I spread is the truth, you're just too blind to see them using you. My kids won't stop opening people's eyes, even when you take me away! The Doomsday will come as they realize they'd been lied to...”

“Aren't you even worse?” Asked Morgan, crossing his arms with a displeased look on his face.

"How so?" Asked the man, suspiciously calm and smug as he raised his head proudly.

"Well, technically speaking even if what you're saying is true, the government uses us to help other people who can't protect themselves from people like you," said Reid, staring at the man as if he were trying to look at his soul. "You on the other hand pressure troubled teens into doing your dirty work to feed your ever-growing god complex, which almost led one of them to death."

The unsub seemed to be confused, that little frown on his brows, mindlessly staring into the wall behind Dr. Reid as he parted his lips as if he was about to speak.

"Seems like you used up your limit," taunted Callahan, smirking at him as he opened his mouth again.

He started trashing his arms around in Rossi's grip, spitting something out in some Slavic language they couldn't understand.

“That's enough,” murmured Rossi, tightening his grip and taking the criminal outside, leading him to the car parked in front of the building alongside Callahan.

“I'll call the Techs,” said Hotchner, heading outside to get his phone.

Some minutes later he came back with his arms crossed and that strange, disappointed look.

"And?" Asked Morgan, looking around the room, kneeling beside the bomb, and inspecting it closer.

"They might or may not be here in an hour, there was another emergency, supposedly done by the Dooms Prophets," said Agent Hotchner, looking at all of his people who stayed inside.

"He planned this better than we thought," whispered Jennifer, looking at him with concern. "The kids must have lied..."

"Or he didn't trust all of them, the ones we got to speak with were younger, less devoted. He wouldn't trust them with that information," added Reid, standing beside Morgan.

"Yeah, but if he really treated them like prophets for the close-minded folks, he wouldn't change his mind from a long-lasting plan to something so quick," murmured Derek, looking up at his teammates.

"This was his plan all along, he knew he'd be caught. He just hoped his Prophets would continue his work without him," Reid chimed in, looking around to only see his teammates confused faces. "His nickname was 'doomsking130'… The bomb was set to an hour and a half," he added, looking at his watch, then the device. "I think the attack and the emergency wasn't his idea, it's his followers who tried to continue his work on their own."

They all stared at one another, nodding in agreement while processing his words, following up on the idea of their Boy Genius.

Morgan turned his head slightly to look at the messy-haired doctor. "This shit is too complicated, nothin' I've seen yet, this guy is a smart one," he whispered, shaking his head softly. "I can't deal with this... I'm sorry."

"Not your fault, Derek. We'll wait for the Techs," assured Hotchner, patting his agent's back as he stood up away from the bomb.

"There is no time," said Jareau, turning her head to her team. "You said they 'may or may not' be here in an hour, and we already lost a few minutes, they might be too late."

The atmosphere in the room felt heavier as Agent Rossi came back to the room, saying he got the local police to drag the leader to the station, while Kate called her family to inform them she'd be late. He felt as disappointed and worried as everyone, making sure to keep the pregnant agent safe, away from the building as the rest searched for a solution for a few more minutes.

"Reid," started Morgan, turning to face his friend. "Doesn't your lovebird know how to deal with those?"

"Um, yeah, they worked in the bomb disposal department, but decided to take a break from this a while back," he answered, already frowning his brows at the dreadful idea.

"Would they be able to disarm it?" joined Hotchner, crossing his arms as he listened.

"I think so..." he said unsurely, his hands shaking slightly at scenarios running through his head. "It wouldn't be exactly legal to bring them here, just for your information."

"Would be quicker than the actual technicians," noticed Jareau, looking at Spencer with a soft, understanding look on her face. She knew exactly how much it had to scare him, but like everyone else — she couldn't see another way.

"If they don't feel like doing it, we'll just have to wait for the Bomb Techs, as a civilian now, they shouldn't feel pressured into risking so much," reminded Hotchner, looking at Dr. Reid with a glimpse of sympathy.

"But saving some time would be nice," said Morgan unapologetically, moving closer to Reid. "They live only a few blocks away, local police could escort them and secure the area."

Jennifer came up to Spencer, slowly wrapping an arm around him, soothing his tense muscles. She saw the distress in his eyes, but just like the doctor, she didn't like the idea.

"I'll call," decided Spencer, closing his eyes to calm down. "They live around eight minutes away from here, but-"

"It's up to them," assured Hotchner, nodding his head in understanding. "I'll make some calls, to make sure they won't get into any trouble if they decide to come."

Getting a call from Spencer so early in the morning was usual, so you left your book on the side of the couch, paying your full attention to his words. He spoke quickly, almost too quickly as he tried to summarize everything in the shortest amount of time possible, making it hard for you to interrupt him. Just the tiredness and distress in his voice made you melt, gathering your kit before he could even finish his ramble.

You didn't hesitate, jumping into the police car he talked about that escorted you right to the town hall, passing the barrier blocks and reporters who tried to talk to you. You covered your face with your hood, knowing too well not to talk to them, especially that you weren't there exactly legally. Passing agents Rossi and Callahan, you waved at them, getting polite nods as they watched you disappear into the building.

You walked as quickly as possible, guided by the deputy that drove you there. Something felt different, deep inside of you as you ran downstairs to the basement. It wasn't the first time you got an urgent call to help disarm a bomb, that was your entire life for the past few years, but just reminding yourself of Spencer's voice made your heart beat a little faster.

"SSA Aaron Hotchner," said the tall man who stood in the middle of the room, nodding his head as he shook your hand. He was the only member of the team you didn't have the chance to meet. You introduced yourself. Just hearing your own specialist title fall from your lips felt so distant as you were on a break for the past few months.

You nodded to everyone, only locking eyes with Spencer, who got closer as if just his presence was meant to protect you. "Agent Hotchner," you started, looking away from your boyfriend to kneel beside the device, opening your kit of tools in a hurry. "Evacuate the building and the area, I'll do my best but with devices like this..."

"I understand," he assured, letting Morgan and Jareau leave the room. There was only one more person who didn't budge beside him. "Reid?"

You looked to your side, watching Spencer shake his head and roll his sleeves up. "I'd like to stay," he said as if it was nothing, not even looking at his superior.

"It's your call," said Hotchner, looking at him with worry, but he left the basement. You knew if you weren't so important to Spencer he'd never allow this kind of behavior, but you could feel your blood boil at just the idea of him staying.

"Leave," you said simply, knowing how dangerous it was for him. At that moment, you didn't even care for yourself, you've done this a million times, but risking his life...

"Not a chance," he replied, reaching for your flashlight to help you. You could see the way his hands started shaking then he lifted it and it started to break your heart.

"You can't do this, Spence," you whispered breathlessly, focusing your eyes on the device. Two detachable components connected only by a few wires, a wide panel to control the bomb was already turned off the moment the time was set and two big canisters of gasoline beside just to make the explosion more dangerous.

"I can and I will," he said firmly, watching your skilled fingers run over the bomb to carefully detach the two parts.

"For fucks sake, Spencer," you sighed, already feeling the way your lip quivered with every word. "I can't promise you anything, I can't do this to you..."

"I'm not leaving," he repeated through gritted teeth, looking up at you from under his messy hair, covering most of his face as he spoke. "And stop trying to convince me otherwise."

You wiped the tears that spilled from your eyes as they followed one wire after another, watching the way they split and connected to find the one to cut. There were way more than in a usual device and just from the look of it, you knew some of them were just decoys, not really connected to any part, not activating anything, just being there to fuck with the mind of the person who dared to try defusing it.

"I can't focus when all I can think of is this killing you," you whispered, your voice breaking with every passing second. "Leave me here, I need to do this alone... I can't risk your life like this. You mean too much not only to me but to your team, your mom, the people who will need the help of an actual genius, so please, just spare me the talking and get out when you still have the chance. It's so selfish to even think..."

His calm and soft voice stopped you in the middle of your monologue. Tears kept falling down your face as you recognized the words he spoke. The stubborn bastard couldn't even fathom the idea of leaving you to this by yourself. Despite how scared he was inside, he kept his cool, reciting one of your favorite books from memory.

You inhaled deeply, feeling yourself growing more steady and calm, your muscles relaxing with every paragraph. Despite biting into your lip harshly, you didn't feel the pain, the tears were gone and the annoyingly fast heartbeat eased.

Spencer kept his eyes glued to your fingers as he took breaths in between each sentence, only glimpsing up a you for a second every time you cut another decoy wire to clear your way to the actual ones.

The time seemed to stop despite the timer showing you almost an hour passed already, leaving you with only a few minutes to neutralize the threat. You wiped your face in your hoodie, getting rid of sweat and tears as you cut through the last decoy, leading you to analyze the actual device.

You caught the cord you thought was the right one with your scissors, swallowing harshly at just the idea of you being wrong. You reached your free hand to the side, mindlessly searching for his. Doing this was not only risking the lives of you and Spencer but potentially unaware people who happened to be close by. Your heart sped up drastically as you made the decision.

Looking up, you saw Spencer who stopped mid-sentence. A look of worry passed through his face as he intertwined your fingers, his other hand resting on the back of your head, soothing you by slowly moving his fingers through your hair.

"Spencer," you whispered breathlessly, a stray tear running down your cheek, leaving him to quickly wipe it off with a soft smile."I love you..."

His smile only grew bigger as looked at you, that familiar sparkle in his eye shining brightly at you. His eyes were teary, but he didn't let any tears spill as he nodded. Those puppy eyes stared at you with the most love you've ever seen.

"I know," he whispered back, his voice cracking as he looked down at your hands.

You felt like the whole world crushed over you as he didn't say those words back, unlike he did a million times before. Your heart sank but you just looked down, brows frowned as you focused not to lose all composure you had left.

For a split second, the basement was filled with eerie silence as you pushed down on the scissors, cutting the cord in half.

masterlist | request info

[delusional-fantasising]

I Do Love You P2 (Soldier Boy x GN reader)

Okay this originally wasn't supposed to have a part 2 so it's may seem a bit clunky. The first part was just supposed to be how I see Soldier Boy's healing process and how it should go if he were to get a new love interest since I don't believe he would be able to move on from his traumas. I wrote something that I'm not the most proud of but if I wrote it the way I do want and envision I would have to write a multi chapter fanfic. Something I don't got the motivation to do since I am writing a few at the same time for other fandoms.

Summary: Reader tells him 'I love you' weeks ago and after a therapy session he decides to make the first few steps to overcome his trauma

Warnings: Mentioning of trauma, PTSD, clunky writing, and a different view on Soldier Boy (More vulnerable and softer version)

Word Count: 1181

________________________________________

“Benjamin, I want you to explain how you feel this way. Explain what happens.”

Soldier Boy was quiet as he tried thinking of all the feelings coursed through his brain when you told him ‘I love you’

His therapist was trying to help him find solutions to cope with his trauma of the betrayal that led to 40 years of torture. The supe was lying on his back staring up at the ceiling, a calculated stare that was emotionally distant. It’s been a month since the incident.

“I just feel… overwhelmed like when I’m going to have an episode. I- this is stupid,” He said as he got up and grabbed his coat, his therapist asked, “Do you love them too or is this a way of you avoiding your problems? If you do this you may distance yourself to try helping them but you will hurt them if you try pushing them away.”

Soldier Boy froze, his hand hovering above the door knob. Close enough to leaving but he remembered how much The Boys were making him go to therapy to cope with trauma in ‘healthy’ ways instead of just getting stoned all the time.

“Just after Crimson Countess, after her I don’t feel safe in a romantic space anymore…” He muttered, lowering his hand turning away from the door. Forcing himself to look in the eyes of the therapist. They questioned as they scribes notes about how Soldier Boy felt, “If you are so scared of loving or being loved why are you dating then? Do you think it’s a good idea leading someone on if you don’t love them?”

“No! It’s not that I don’t l-l0- you know the L-word. It’s just that what if they betray me like-”

“But they aren’t Crimson Countess though. Why not give them the benefit of the doubt, let them in. Talking about how you feel to loved ones helps many people,” His therapist spoke calmly, making him think of the possibility of opening up to you but he didn’t like being vulnerable not again. But he had to remind himself that you are your own person, you are nothing like Crimson Countess.

…

You were baking a surprise for Soldier Boy as a way to apologise for triggering him, you felt like you crossed one of his boundaries with the whole ‘I love you’ incident. Remembering how much he complains that the Apple Pecan pies today are too sweet and back in his day they tasted amazing, you did some research and found a recipe that was made around the time he was a teenager. The pie was almost down, you were squatting down in front of the oven watching through the window at the rising pie. The smell filling the air, making your stomach twist and growl. It was that strong urge to take the first slice made you feel guilty to want to indulge. Self control…

Soldier Boy entered the base not expecting the sweet smell of pie, freshly baked and he had stopped by a small flower shop to get a few of your favourite flowers while rehearsing a phrase over and over again in his head for you. His therapist told him that if he wants to show you how much he cares and likes you romantically he can’t be avoiding the 3 big words. He entered the kitchen and he froze when he saw you. You were sitting on your haunches staring at the pie slowly yet eventually rising like how he used to when he was younger before all the trauma. The immature unbridled joy in your eyes as you still haven’t notice him watching you till he let out a cough into his fist.

“OH!” You yelped as you spun around to face him, you start rambling and going on but he wasn’t paying attention he was in his own world. The world where he spent time just staring at every small feature like it was going to be the last time he will ever see you. His gaze unusually soft and he knew that this was no longer time to be stuck in the past but explore whatever the present and future throws at him because you were never anything like Countess.

“I just want to say what I said awhile back was going over a boundary and I am sorry. I understand if you hate me-”

“I don’t hate you though,” He stated abruptly as he knew what he had to do, he walked over. The sound of the plastic covering on the flowers crinkled as he tightened his grip. He never wanted you to hate him, ever since what happened to him he became more aware that if he gives a person a reason they will abandon him or stab him in the back.

Paranoia and the muscle tension going taut coming it’s to the peak till acceptance came over.

“Benjamin I just know that I want too far though and you probably felt rushed at the time. I understand what she did to you and I know that you are still struggling with that trauma,” You rambled, fidgeting with your fingers and your eyes dropping to your floor. He set the flowers onto the counter, grabbing your hands standing close to you. “It’s alright, I just want you to listen to what I need to say. Please…”

You went quiet to listen whatever he needed to say. The look of vulnerability peaking through, something rare that he has never done in awhile ever since an altercation with his son before the death of his only son.

“I know I can be an asshole. I know that I say shit that may hurt you or my actions hurt you but I don’t want to hurt you. I didn’t mean to come off that way when you told me what you did… but I don’t hate you. It’s hard for me to love you but I do, I do love you but I need time. I need time to go slow,” Soldier Boy blurted out as his voice quivered when he admitted his feelings for once as if finally coming to terms. His eyes refusing to meet yours for the whole confession till the silence hung in the room for a painfully long time.

The silence was cut by the egg timer.

…

Soldier Boy is a man of his word…

-

Most of the time.

Billy and Hughie came back from a tiring mission, Hughie smelled pie and followed the scent. The kitchen was playing some old tunes from the 1940’s, he stands and pauses in the doorway wondering if he should just come back later.

Soldier Boy had his arm wrapped around your waist and his lips pressed against your forehead, slow dancing with you in the middle of the kitchen while the pie was cooling from being taken out of the over a few minutes ago. The soft swaying and him talking to you lovingly like how couples in old movies spoke to each other.

In love.

______________________________

@spnfamily-j2 @red22wolf

[vhaos-chaotic-writing]

🌌💗💜MOONSTORM'S BACK BOYIE!!🫶🫶 With another request of part 2 of my last request Yandere ALL tfp characters x super shy reader, the same ever reader, the whole thing being an scenario how the Autobots, even Ratchet, come back from an mission to find thare beloved SUPER innocent🥺 reader upset, sad or happy with Jack, Miko and Raf trying to chear tham up?💜💗🌌😘

MOON IS BACK!!! \(@^0^@)/

(TFP) Yandere!Autobots w/ Shy Cybertronian!Reader Pt. 2 - "The sun to my sunflower"

WARNINGS: Yandere behaviour, yandere harem, typical violence from the series and a little bit more, Reader is gender neutral and in the Autobot faction. Cliffjumper ain't here - boy is dead af. Reader has PTSD and has an anxiety attack.

Every day, like clockwork, sunflowers wake up and bend toward the sun, following its path from east to west - no matter how soft or harsh the sun is feeling that day, the always follow it until it sets.

Their optics always follow you, loving everything about you - it brings them peace in the middle of the war. They love to see you interacting with, well, anything! They love the way you express, talk, think - and while they would rather have you happy all the time, your negative emotions always remind them the reason why they love you and protect you.

Of course - their favorite emotion to see painted on your faceplate is happiness.

Your soft and lively laugh makes Bumblebee, Wheeljack and Ultra Magnus turn their helms, forgetting what they were doing for the sake of burning inside of their memory softwares the sound of your laugh and smile. Finding you laughing as Miko shows you those silly cat videos of them sleeping in funny positions, making funny noises or doing just something with their owners! Your laugh makes their sparks sigh and burn, and it brings them peace. While Ultra Magnus would stand back to keep admiring you, Bee and Wheeljack would get closer and ask you what were you laughing about, loving to hear you explain them with such joy the origin of your present contentment.

A small whine or defeated hum would make Smokescreen and Bulkhead turn their helms in the blink of an optic. To see you frown and with an annoyed expressiong makes their spark shout a 'No! No! Wrong! Sweetspark should not be annoyed!' and make their engines work quickly to fix the problem! The two mechs are quick to ask you what is the problem? Why are you upset? Are you okay? Do you need help? How can they help you? They can't stand not see you happy and pleased! When you express your frustration of having heard Jack is stressed with his studies and haven't thought how to cheer up the teenager after seeing him so down, it broke your spark. Bulkhead and Smokescreen are so relieved that you are okay, making them melt at how you keep the well being of the human children close to your spark.

Oh, but when a soft sob or the beginning of a sparkbreaking wail reaches their audials - every single one of them feels something in their spark twist and wail back. A couple of weeks ago, Raf had got you an amethust geode since you seemed to find so fascinating the minerals from earth. You were enamoured with it, thanking Raf for nearly a whole week. The team knew how much you cared for that small gift - it brought them happiness and knew how that object brought you some kind of support whenever you were anxious or nervous.

Just when Optimus and Arcee were arriving back from a mission and being welcomed back by Ratchet, the sound of a fragile crystal is heard, followed by a desperate inhale. The leader, the medic and the soldier are quick to run to your recharging room and when they enter, the sight breaks their sparks. The geode was now in pieces on the floor, with you kneeling and seemed to be holding a couple of said pieces in your servos - you must had accidentally added to much pressure as you held the mineral against your chestplate to find the comfort in order to control your anxiety attack. Alas, the moment you heard the crack and saw the pieces escaping from your servos, you broke down just as the painful memories of the beginning of the war attacked you. Ratchet and Arcee are quick to reach you, trying to calm you down, holding your servos and let you cry on either chestplate.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry!" You cry, your helm held against Arcee's chestplate, the fembot hugging you closely as Ratchet holds one of your servos, the medic and the soldier whispering to you supportive words. When Optimus finally moves, the medic and the soldier slowly move away but don't stop touching you until you are in Optimus' hug. The Prime holds you and when you hug him back to sob against his chestplate, Ratchet and Arcee place one of their servos on your backplates. It pains them to see you like this, crying and with tears in your precious optics. They'll end this war so you never cry again.

Like a sunflower, all of them turn their helms towards you, as you are the sun to their universe. The precious, bright and gracious sun.

Shyly asking you if you want to be mutuals... (/ω＼*)……… (/ω•＼*) Vhaos out!

[theangelssing]

Soldier Boy/Ben

hi I’m Dem! shorter for demon (:

here’s my Soldier Boy masterlist! I wanted to start a series of imagines with Soldier Boy. I really want to write more about him and I’ve some ideas and some won’t be only one part so I guess it’s time for me to make a special masterlist only for Soldier Boy so you can find each imagine (and their next parts) easier. And my big masterlist won’t be too messy! Mostly soft and fluffy, some spoiler free and some not, no smut, I’ll write what I want and like.

please please if you have any idea you want me to write, feel free to ask!! enjoy the imagines <3

I’m not used to this stuff but if you want me to tag you on my next imagines just reply under this post (my post aren’t scheduled so don’t expect to be tagged every day nor every week)

also, you can find me on twitter under @/_theangelssing

Good Morning

Painting