#the boys amazon

[raingems-blog]

Work at Home

Summary: While doing Victoria's laundry, you find something interesting.

Warnings: Blood, implications of murder

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A blazer, some work pants, Zoe's favorite top, another blazer. You sorted through the clothing in the laundry basket as you hummed along to the music playing from your phone. The repetitive actions were almost therapeutic as you separated piles of clothing to be washed and dried. Victoria sat in the other room at the kitchen island as she poured over some work emails while the muffled sounds of Zoe's cartoons could be heard coming from the living room.

Oftentimes, you and Victoria split chores around the home, having a schedule chart that hung on the foyer wall. Today, it's your turn to do laundry, and the melodic singing of Selena Quintanilla blasting from your phone often made tasks much more manageable.

A pair of pants, some underwear, a skirt, Victoria's favorite top, and some work blouse with red stains on it..... a work blouse with red stains?

That immediately pulled you out of your mindless sorting as you began to examine the stained cotton. Small droplets of something red coated the front in an almost splattered pattern, and while it wasn't much, it was noticeable to you, it always was. She always was, Victoria's subtle manipulation, glints in her eyes that often ran shivers down your spine. The way her voice became chillingly soft when she lied or masked, you saw it, you knew it, you ignored it.

You knew that your wife was more than the charming politician or the doting wife and mother that she presented to the public. And while was doting, while she was charming, you knew that Victoria was also something else. Something that you never wished to dig further into for fear of what you may find.

In truth, you knew that she was ruthless. Though it had never been directed to you, you knew what she was capable of. You knew that she had the connections, the wealth, the ability to wipe someone clean off of the map if she had to.

Often, did you turn a blind eye to those things, pretending that she was nothing more than the charming politician and the doting wife and mother who you slept next to every night. Who you kissed and told I love you to first thing in the morning when you woke up and late at night before you went to bed. The woman who checked under Zoe's bed for monsters, read stories too and tucked her in every night, giving Zoe and her stuffed animal a kiss on the forehead.

But you knew. You knew that the stains on the shirt weren't food of any kind or spilled ink. It the small dots of red glared at you, a small indicator of the reality that you refused to face.

Suddenly, you felt sick, and the sounds of your music could no longer distract your mind from the slightly browned color of sparce splotches on the top in your hand. The detergent overwhelmed your senses as your thoughts began to spiral as you considered the reality before they were quieted by your delusions. "Maybe she was hurt. Had a simple nosebleed. Maybe it was hers."

Slowly, you opened the door and put on your best face of indifference as you approached your wife. Each step felt heavier than the last, and the shirt almost burned against the skin of your palm, the soft cotton of the blouse becoming almost overwhelming.

"Hey, did you get hurt or something?" Your voice sounded slightly strained with worry, whether it was for her or the person who possibly stained the shirt, you weren't sure.

Victoria looked up at you before looking at the item in your hand. Her brown eyes zeroed in on the almost imperceptible dots before looking back at you.

"Just a small nosebleed, nothing to worry about." She replied, her mouth forming into a tense smile as that soft, deceptive tone that she used crept into her voice.

You knew she was lying. She knew that you knew she could feel it. Your heart was hammering loudly in your chest as your blood rushed through your veins. You knew. Yet she knew that you'd once again turn a blind eye, pretend that you didn't know. So when you gave a small, unsure nod, she wasn't surprised.

"Okay." You said, your gaze lingering on her before you slowly trudged your way back to the laundry room. Halfway there, you stopped, turned, and said the words that had been clawing their way out. "Victoria, whatever you do, whatever you're doing... make sure that it never comes home with you."

A short but tense silence passed between before Victoria answered. "It won't." Her expression was unreadable as her dark eyes searched yours, a certain coldness briefly settling in her warm browns before it disappeared as you nodded before completing your journey back to the laundry room.

And with that, you began sorting again. A top, some pants, a dress, and a blazer.

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This one was a bit longer than usual. I hope you enjoyed it.

[xoxomilesteller]

just between us

playboy bunny!reader x soldier boy | MDNI

cw: payback era, unprotected p in v (no balloon no goon), cursing, soldier boy, smoking, slight sexual harassment (it’s soldier boy), sir kink, guys im still bad at this

not proofread and def has grammar mistakes!

wc: 2.3k

soldier boy is best friends with the one and only hugh hefner. it’s not uncommon for his self absorbed ass to come into the clubs, demanding for drinks. all the bunnies would be on him, posing and taking pictures with him.

you didn’t mind soldier boy. you just wanted to get your job done. but truth be told, soldier boy is hot. anyone with eyes can see that. and for some reason, you love cocky men. he has every right to be cocky, look at him. he’s one of the world’s first superheroes and is insanely rich.

you were just starting at this brand new job in new york, you were a bit shy. especially around soldier boy. you didn’t want to disrespect or offend him, since he is very generous with his tips— how you get by.

he particularly likes you though. you’re shy, well mannered, and he loves the way you look in that corset and bunny tail.

after being checked by the bunny mother, you went to work. contrary to popular belief, the playboy club is insanely classy. your uniform had to be perfect, you had to look perfect, you have to be perfect. you’re not allowed to date any customers either, if you do, you’re fired. and honestly, it is a very fun job. the club was six stories, tons of famous men come by, soldier boy is here. maybe you developed a tiny little crush on him, but you know the rules, so does he.

soldier boy was obviously in the vip room, where you were staffed to wait. whenever you walk into the room, his eyes traveled hungrily up and down your body, taking his time to savor your body like he hasn’t seen you in this uniform at least 10 times now. hugh gave him special treatment. any other gentleman, after it gets to a certain point of flirting, they get kicked out. soldier boy however, kept on making comments whenever you did the signature lean.

his eyes would carelessly drop down to your tits and he’d lick his lips, imagining what it would be like to titty fuck you and coat them in his cum.

he’d whistle at you, lowly, only the people at his table could hear and of course, you.

he says things like: “lets see you shake that tail doll face”, “the ears will stay on when i fuck you”, “i bet you’re tighter than that bodysuit you have on, aren’t you?”

you didn’t mind. you knew better than to entertain him because of your job. the tips are so good, especially when he comes by. besides, you know you look good. sure soldier boy is a bit too forward, but every single woman in this club looks phenomenal in their uniform, you’re not that special.

soldier boy was joined by black noir, mindstorm, one of those twins you don’t know the name of and the wasp guy, waspo or something like that.

you don’t really care enough for the rest of their names.

when you finish your shift, you place your black fuzzy trench coat over your uniform. you spent way too much money on it, but most of the money came from soldier boy, so you have him to thank for that. you walk out of the club, the cold air nipping at the small areas of exposed skin. you walk over to a spot you recently discovered, it’s just a rooftop but it has one of the most beautiful views of the city.

when you make it all the way up, you see the supe in his green suit. he heard you coming. he heard your heartbeat, your footsteps, but he knew it was you because he had been watching you after work for some days now.

he was just curious is what he told himself when he found himself wanting to know what you did after work, who you did.

”oh sorry-“ you softly say, “thought i had this place to myself,” you turn around to descend the steps.

”come on doll face,” he smirks to himself when he hears your heartbeat quicken at the pet name, “it’s public property, don’t belong to anyone”

you hesitate, but you find your legs walking towards him before you can even think. he untucks the joint he had behind his ear and searches for a lighter, “nice coat you got on there, shame it covers you up,” he looks at you up and down, sizing you up for the millionth time and inhales his joint, “you get off around this time, doll face?”

you nod, “yeah but it depends on the day, thankfully today wasn’t as packed as it usually it”

he nods, “any plans for the night?”

”not that i know of,” you bite the inside of your cheek

”i’m gonna fuck you”

you laugh, not taking him seriously, “what?”

his face remains serious, “you got anywhere you have to be?”

you look around, as if this is a joke, “no not really..“

”then you’re coming back to the vought tower with me”

you scoff, “that’s against the rules, i’m a bunny, you’re a gentleman-”

he laughs in your face, ”i’m everything but a gentleman. i don’t give a fuck ‘bout the damn rules, not when your tits look that good in that tiny uniform. take that coat off, let me get a better look doll face”

”i was talking about you being a gentleman at the club like gentleman’s club..”

”do as you’re told,” his voice is commanding and impatient.

you did as you were told, since he’s so hot. you slipped off your trench coat, goosebumps rising on your arms as the warmth left them. he takes a few steps closer, the smell of weed and leather filling your nostrils. he places the joint in between your lips and drags his big hands over the cups of the corset, keeping them there, “don’t waste my joint”

you inhale and remove it from your lips to let the weed hit your lungs better. right as you exhale, he starts shaking your upper half side to side, shamelessly watching your tits jiggle with a giant half smirk plastered on his face.

as insane as it sounds, that act alone, was the hottest thing that has ever happened to you. the way he doesn’t care. he’s eye-fucking you like you’re an object, the things he’s said about you are borderline sexual harassment, but he looked damn good while doing it.

”like water,” he mutters, “yeah you’re coming home with me doll face,” he wets his lips with his tongue, “these all yours?”

”yes,” you whisper

he slides his hands down to your ass and gives both cheeks a smack, making you wince, “even fuckin’ better, y’know what?” he looks around, “this a hotel right?”

”yeah,” you nod

he nods, “then let’s fucking go,” he gives your ass a squeeze and your tits one final look for now.

soldier boy practically fights with the poor receptionist to get their best room available and had her kick out a couple that were in the room. the second you two are alone in the room, he pushes you against the wall, the kiss being all teeth and built up desire. he needs to fuck you so bad. his cock strains against his suit at the feeling of you being pressed up against him, of your tits.

God he loves your tits.

he unsnaps the corset and you sigh in relief, his hands immediately massage your breasts, “fuck,” he shakes his head, chuckling, “now these are what i’m talking about”

”sold-“

”sir”

you gulp, “sir,” you step out of the teddy, “how may i help you?”

”lay down on that bed, flat on your back doll face, keep your legs spread”

each step you take closer to the bed, your heart rate quickens and your legs glide easily, with no friction at all.

his cock twitches at the way you delicately lay on the bed, completely the opposite of what he’s about to do to you. he starts imagining what other positions he can have you in but right now, he needs his fix. and right now, he is staring at the wet patch that is growing on your tights. he hovers over you, placing wet kisses on your neck.

you lift up your arms but he quickly pins them down, “don’t touch me doll face”

”yes sir”

”keep those hands to yourself and keep all of this..” he tugs on the waistband of your tights, pulling them up and hitting your clit as you mewl, “on. Cuffs, ears, everything”

you whimper, “yes sir”

”good fuckin’ girl. knew you’d be a sweet thing,” he winks.

his hands slide down to your core and he rips the all fabric apart, making you gasp. hugh does not mess around, he needs his bunnies looking sharp at all times and now you have to pay for new pairs, since as bunnies, you were required to wear two sets of tights.

“sir i have to-“ you cut yourself off when he inserts two of his thick fingers into you.

”fuck me,” he cockily smiles, “so fuckin’ wet and tight, yeah move those hips doll face” he pats the side of your hip, encouraging you to keep fucking yourself on his fingers, “desperate bitch,” he shakes his head, finding you so pathetic but amusing at the same time.

your jaw falls open and his fingers curl up, hitting that sensitive spot that makes your vision go white, “sir-“

he withdraws his fingers, shoving them into your mouth before you can react, “suck them, don’t wanna hear you bitching that i didn’t let you cum”

he places pressure on your tongue until you start actually sucking on his fingers, tasting yourself on his fingers. he wraps his lips around a nipple, sucking and flicking his tongue while you arch your back into his mouth, moaning around his fingers. he grinds his bulge onto your thigh, “next time i’m fucking you in that uniform, don’t know how yet, but you’re gonna look like a banged up bunny doll face,” he deeply mutters against your warm skin and switches nipples.

he groans when you swirl your tongue on his fingers, imagining what it would feel like to have his throbbing cock in your warm, obedient mouth. he can’t take it anymore, he needs to be inside of you.

he removes his fingers from your mouth, wiping them dry on your face and unbuckles his leather belt hastily. when his cock springs out, you look down and see soldier boy in all his glory. his cock is huge and has pre-cum beading at the tip. with his thumb he smears it all over the bright pink head, dropping his jaw slightly at the sensation.

”sir,” you say softly, “please”

his eyes pan down, to your dripping wet cunt, watching it desperately clench around nothing.

in one, painful thrust, he sheaths himself fully inside of you. your head rolls back at his tip hitting your cervix.

”sir,” you pant

”take it,” he grits out.

he places his hands under your tits, his grip so hard it will leave bruises. each thrust of his hips, he pulls your body down with ease, making you take him deeper. your hands grip onto the sheets, tugging at them as he pounds into you mercilessly.

your mind can only think of him and his cock. he feels so good deep inside of you. you feel full, stretched. tears prickle your eyes and your throat is so sore from moaning, that you’re just babbling.

he huskily laughs, “not even trying and i got you cock drunk, i feel that good doll face? hm?” he taunts you

he will never admit when a woman makes him feel good unless she’s on her knees. praising is not his thing, he doesn’t even moan, it’s fucking embarrassing. he can’t even make eye contact with you, so he’s been watching your tits jiggle with every forceful thrust he feeds you. he has never had trouble biting back a moan, but inside of you?

if he weren’t a supe, his lip would be torn open. his brows are scrunched up, twitching at every thrust. his fingernails are digging into your flesh.

you’re so damn tight he feel likes he just might explode. so fucking wet that every time he retracts his hips, he might slip out.

he’d lose his shit if he slipped out mid fuck with you.

he brings a hand down, rubbing your clit vigorously.

”s-sir”

”take it,” he repeats, “fuckin take it”

”please”

the pleasure is too much. the coil in your lower belly is about to snap. you’re sweating, you can’t stay still, you can hardly even moan. each thrust knocks the air out of you. your walls are sealed tight around his cock, causing friction.

”cum doll face,” he nods

at his command, you come undone. you scream and tears come rolling down your face, giving you the most powerful orgasm you’ve ever had. he rides out your orgasm and he pulls out.

he yanks you up by tugging at the hair on the crown of your head and he strokes himself with the same force he was fucking you with. your mouth is open, not to catch his cum, but at the scene in front of you.

the soldier boy is sweating in front of you, jacking off his massive, Godsend cock, with his head tilted back. you watch his cock twitch and shoot out his thick, creamy cum all over your tits. his load is also massive. it came out nonstop.

when he finishes, he is staring up at the ceiling, trying to control his breath.

but you?

you dart your tongue out to clean up the small amount of cum on his tip.

and he— for the first time— moans.

AN: ANOTHER SOLDIER BOY SMUTTTT i hope you enjoyed!

banner by: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

tags: @shadowhunterdownworlderhybrid

[nikredd]

You got a second goddamn chance to actually give a shit. So what you gonna do with it man? - Mother's Milk

[zepskies]

Ooooh my GOD, I'm loving everything about this, Wayne!!!

Losing futuristic devices like this was a big time-traveling no-no. Luckily, Soldier Boy was probably too much of a moron to puzzle it altogether. That might just be history’s saving grace

lmfao yep, I think that's Time Travel 101. 😂

Oof but I don't think she's giving him enough credit for how "street smart intelligent" he can be. (Though we all know he ain't exactly book smart." loll)

And he's so persistent! I mean, kind understand why since she's such an oddity to him. But he did not need to hit her with the "C’mon, you can’t do this to me.”" *cue charming smile* 🫠🫠

And my God, he seemed sincere! No wonder he had gotten attention from women like a goddamn bunny in a petting zoo.

“Oh, uhm, I’m sorry,” you apologized quickly and forced a smile. “You just looked like a soldier, I guess.” His cheeks reddened even more as he bashfully averted his eyes to the snowy pavement and scratched the back of his neck. “Well, uh, thank you.” He clearly took it as a compliment that he already looked the part of a hero. Nice save, you praised yourself.

Lmfaooo got 'im! 🤣 I still love this bit and I'm loving her sass, her inner strength as she tries to figure out this truly fucked situation, all while getting a front row seat to Ben's little "dinner and a show." 😝

He might not be Soldier Boy yet, but he's still a fuckboi with daddy's money to get him anything he wants (he thinks). I snorted every time he tried to impress her -- be it his flashy car or with his charm, and she shot him down most of the time. I very much respect her for it, and it's also easier for her to resist his charms knowing what he becomes in the future. 😅

“Uh… Cindy,” you replied quickly, not wanting to give him your real name and share too much. It was smarter to be careful.

Gotta say, I LOVE all the Cindy Lauper references throughout this. I'm such an 80s girlie, and not only does "Time After Time" go so well with this story, it's also cool in the sense that Cindy was such an icon for female singers--it adds some levels of female empowerment to go along with the commentary on feminism through the reader here. 💗

Exhibit A lol:

“Huh.” He stumped for a beat. “You know a lot of technical things for a woman.”

Ugh. Benjamin. 🙄🙄 It is understandable that he'd think that way, considering the times though. 🙃

“Don’t darling me, Benjamin, after you’ve been two-timing me with that tramp Betty Vanderbilt!” the girl yelled loud enough for the whole diner to hear.

Oooh sorry for this nerd alert lol, but is this referencing the Vanderbilt family who built up the railroads in the U.S.? It would be a cool connection since the Vanderbilts built mansions on Fifth Avenue. 🤓

“Are you, uhm, running from someone?” he asked, with not only concern but also determination to fight whoever was after you gleaming in his eyes. Ironic, you thought since you were running from him.

Aghhh, this is kinda heartbreaking in a way. 😭 SB is literally her tormentor in the present, to then be faced with this version of him that just wants to help her, even if he is intrigued by her and what she's doing there.

I also love how you're pacing this so far, especially with that last line (🤣😅)! With so much rich historical detail, the complicated web of this plot, and how you're drawing these two together, I have a feeling this might be one of your best series ever, my friend! 👏🏽👏🏽💛

Time After Time – Chapter 2

Summary: Unable to control your abilities, you’re stuck in the present with Billy Butcher, his team, and America’s first asshole. At this point, you’ve become Soldier Boy’s personal punching bag. But when an accident leaves you stranded in 1942, you run into a familiar face and suddenly rely on your future tormentor’s help as your only hope.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x supe!Reader

Warnings: 18+ for language, angst, humor, reader is a supe with chronokinesis (time manipulation), 1942 says hi, fluff if you squint, SB being a nice and kind human

Word Count: 4.8k

Posted on Patreon March 8, 2025

A/N: Welcome to Bizarro World, where Soldier Boy is somewhat OOC (but still a sly dog). Have fun snooping through his life, folks! Big thank you to everyone for your overwhelming support on Part 1 and kudos to all of you who figured out the little time travel theory we're going with here 🤓🩵

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 2: Is This the 40s?

Deep breaths, you reminded yourself as you squatted in a puddle of mud in an abandoned alley, throbbing and roaring head in your hands. If you could only manage to control your jittering, fragile nerves, maybe you’d find your way back.

Come on, come on, come on…

“Miss?”

Fuck.

Your gaze lifted to the tall, shadowy figure by the mouth of the alley, already recognizing the unmistakeable deep timbres of Soldier Boy before he stepped into the light.

“I believe I told you to leave me alone,” you muttered, annoyed.

An idiot like Soldier Boy would not be history’s downfall. You had to ensure the timeline stayed intact. The less interaction you had with him, the better.

“I know. I’m-… I’m sorry, miss,” he apologized once more to you.

If you hadn’t heard it with your own ears, you wouldn’t have thought apologies were even part of his vocabulary, hearing him say the word twice was almost mind-boggling. Then your eyes fixed on the little black box tightly clasped in his left hand and widened in horror – your phone.

Losing futuristic devices like this was a big time-traveling no-no.

Luckily, Soldier Boy was probably too much of a moron to puzzle it altogether. That might just be history’s saving grace.

“You-, uh, you lost this. Just wanted to return it,” he said and tentatively held the phone out to you.

With an exhaustive sigh, you jumped to your feet and ripped the device out of his hand. “Give that to me!”

You huffed a ‘thank you’ and stomped down the alley, back towards the busy street. All you needed was a quiet and warm place to figure this out and return to your own time. But Soldier Boy was still hot on your tail, following you with a swift pace.

“Miss, wait! Wait a second! Hey!”

With a few long strides of his bow legs, he had flagged you down before you’d even reached the main street. But that didn’t halt your feet completely, although he’d slowed you down significantly.

“What? I told you to stay away. Stop following me,” you snapped.

“I’m just trying to ensure you’re alright,” he insisted, attempting to appear as harmless as possible.

At this point, you thought you were beginning to hallucinate because your mind tried to convince you there was actual, legitimate worry gleaming in his forest green eyes. In reality, he was probably just acting to save the damsel in distress, so he could warm her up at his penthouse and slip something into her drink.

Not fucking happening. 

“I’m fine.” You gritted a smile and opted to ignore him as you scurried past the first crowd of people on the sidewalk.

“No offense, miss, but you don’t seem fine,” he insisted and ran in front of you, blocking your way. With a frustrated groan, you finally stopped and sent him a glare, but he only met you with a sincere look. “Let me help you, alright? I promise I mean no harm or ill-intention if that is what you’re worried about.”

Ha! 

Internally, you snorted. But he raised his open palms again as if to prove his words, his eyes boring intensely into yours. He might as well have been fucking Mindstorm.

“Listen, you look like someone who’s used to getting what he wants all the time, but no means no. Stop following me, okay?”

You hoped you had finally drilled the message into his thick skull and he’d leave you alone after this, but alas he wouldn’t be Soldier Boy if he listened to you. One step past him, and a hand grabbed your arm.

Ready to fend him off, you were surprised to find his grip wasn’t strong by any means. It was barely a brush before he dropped his hand again and looked at you remorsefully.

“I’m sorry! I just-… Please let me help you,” he reiterated with imploring green eyes. “Look, you clearly seem lost. Just tell me where you live, and I can get you home safely, okay? C’mon, you can’t do this to me.” He tried to loosen you up with a charming smile and a puppy dog look. “If you leave like this, I’m going to be up all night, worrying you’ve died of hypothermia out here.”

And my God, he seemed sincere! No wonder he had gotten attention from women like a goddamn bunny in a petting zoo.

Musingly, you then chewed on your lower lip and assessed the man in front of you. The people who strolled by you threw you the occasional weird looks – you’d chosen a bad day to wear a Led Zeppelin t-shirt and ripped jeans.

Admittedly, you could use a little help here. Maybe if you were being careful with the timeline – and him – you could risk it.

You exhaled a hesitant breath, but your head nodded slightly. “Just-, uh, just get me to Fifth Avenue. I can find my way from there, alright?”

It was a simple request, but his brows drew together as if you’d just asked him something insane.

“Fifth Avenue as in New York City?” he questioned.

Oh no, you didn’t like where this was going.

“Yes?”

He clicked his tongue, scratching the nape of his neck where the collar of his coat ended. “Well, uh, I guess I could take you there tomorrow. It’s about a four hour car ride in this weather. I mean, if we took the train, we’d be a little faster.”

Four hours?! 

“Where-, uh… What, uh, what city am-, am I?”

He clicked his tongue again. This time, a little smirk twitched on his lips too, but he tried his best to hide his amusement. “Uh, Philadelphia. You know, Pennsylvania?”

“Yeah, no, I know geography, thank you.”

“Are you sure?”

Curling your lips, you tilted your head at him, your cheeks catching heat, even though you were practically freezing. Oh, he was trying to be clever now, wasn’t he?

Sheepishly, he met your eyes and smiled innocently.

But when that little fascinating moment had passed, you realized you were still stuck here, and the panic set back in. Your gaze flickered around – there was nowhere you could go. However, you then noticed something else – no one was staring at Soldier Boy, even though he was supposed to be America’s greatest hero. Was he in a disguise? Was that what he did back then?

“So, uhm… is this the 40s?”

There was beat of silence as he licked his lips. “Yeah, uh, this is the 40s, sweetheart.” He laughed heartily, throwing his head back. “You know, I’ve had some bad hangovers and woke up someplace, not knowing where I was, but I’ve never forgotten the year before.”

No surprise, you thought wryly and then swallowed, glancing back up at him.

“So, uhm, what year is this?”

“It’s January 24, 1942,” he replied patiently, his eyes watching you closely.

And then, it began to dawn on you.

“And what d’you do? Are you, uhm–“ Soldier Boy? “–a soldier?”

He laughed again, his cheeks slightly blushing in the cold. He adjusted the flat cap on his head. “Uh, no. Well, not yet anyways. I actually just came from the office downtown and enlisted when I ran into you.”

Holy fucking shit.

The man before you wasn’t a supe yet. He wasn’t Soldier Boy yet. He was just a normal human, and you felt like you were staring through the looking-glass and seeing Wonderland.

And if your math was correct, it also meant the guy in front of you was no more than 23 years old.

Holy fucking shit.

“But, uh, I also work at my father’s office,” he added after you hadn’t said anything. “Why are-, why are you looking at me like that?” he then asked with a flustered chuckle, and you realized you were still staring at him.

“Oh, uhm, I’m sorry,” you apologized quickly and forced a smile. “You just looked like a soldier, I guess.”

His cheeks reddened even more as he bashfully averted his eyes to the snowy pavement and scratched the back of his neck. “Well, uh, thank you.”

He clearly took it as a compliment that he already looked the part of a hero. Nice save, you praised yourself.

“Why-, uh, why don’t we get you warmed up a little, huh?” he suggested kindly and finally dared to step closer. Swiftly, he took off his coat and draped it over your shoulders and bare arms. “Here, take my coat. You poor thing must be freezing. Look at you, you’re shaking.”

His smile was friendly and reassuring as he adjusted the collar around your neck. Uncomfortably, you rolled your shoulders, though, and backed away from his touch.

“Alright, uhm, just please don’t touch me,” you said, your voice meek and barely audible. You knew technically it wasn’t the same guy who had abused, tortured, harassed, and bullied you for months on end, but you still didn’t want his hands anywhere near you.

“Okay, yeah, sure,” he resigned and raised his palms again before gesturing down the street, trying his hardest not to lay a hand on the small of your back and lead you there himself. “There’s a diner a few blocks from here. Would that be okay?”

Reluctantly, you nodded, wrapping the thick coat, which smelled like his cologne and cigars, tighter around you as you followed him.

Fortunately, the diner was quaint and dimly lit. The bell above the door jingled as you entered with your unwanted sidekick. He made sure to always stay one step behind you, and you didn’t know if it was because it was polite to let the lady go first, or if he just wanted to keep a watchful eye on you in case you’d make a run for it again.

You passed a row of customers sitting hunched over at the counter before Soldier Boy – or not Soldier Boy yet – then picked a table in a quiet corner, away from everyone else as if he knew you’d appreciate the privacy. The less people saw and noticed you, the better. You knew you had to get home fast before messing up the intricate fabric of time too much.

“So, uh, what’s your name?” he asked as the waitress placed down his simple black coffee and your Earl Grey, your cold hands quickly grasping onto the hot mug and warming against the ceramic.

“Uh… Cindy,” you replied quickly, not wanting to give him your real name and share too much. It was smarter to be careful.

“Cindy, huh?” The name rolled off his tongue with a subtle smirk as if he liked the sound of it. “Does that come with a last name?”

“Uh, yes… Lauper,” you replied and bit your lip hard. “I’m, uh, from the Lauper’s of Upstate New York, you know? From a small town called, uh… Flatiron.”

“Huh. Interesting…” he mused, pursing his lips. “Never heard of it.”

“Yeah, well, like I said, it’s a small town…” you deflected and sipped on your drink.

“Well, uhm, I’m Benjamin Brooks,” he introduced himself with a suave smile. “But, uh, most people just call me Ben.”

When you only gave him a disinterested nod, he licked his lips, his fingers tapping against the coffee mug in his hold before he looked at you again and cleared his throat.

“You’ve, uh, probably heard of the name. My father owns half the steel mills in the state,” he said with a bragging grin, which lost its energy when you still didn’t give him the time of day.

“Uh-huh…”

“Brooks Steel Company? You’ve never heard of it?”

“Nope.”

“Huh.” Somewhat defeated, he pursed his lips, his fingers tapping on the table this time. Then, a soft smile formed as he leaned back in his seat. “So, uh, what about you? What brings you here to Philadelphia?”

“Uhm… business,” you said as if you were answering a customs question at the airport.

“Really? What kind of business?”

“You ask a lot of questions…”

He chuckled slightly, his cheeks blushing. “Well, uh, excuse my curiosity, please. It’s just-… well, the clothes you’re wearing and the, uh, weird black box you’re carrying… What is it, anyway?”

Shit. 

“Uh, it’s a… flashlight,” you replied, thinking of the most basic function of your phone.

“Flashlight?”

“Yes, it’s a… prototype. Uses lithium-ion batteries instead of the carbon-zinc ones you find in flashlights at this… current time… right now,” you explained in a careful stammer and only realized you might have said too much when his brow raised.

“Huh.” He stumped for a beat. “You know a lot of technical things for a woman.”

Internally, you wanted to groan at the sexist remark, but considering it was 1942, you had to admit he was probably right. Even in the 21st century, it was still a rarity to find a woman in a STEM field.

“Yes, uh, well, my father taught me some stuff,” you lied. As a matter of fact, your father was a drunk loser, who couldn’t change a single lightbulb even if you turned it into a joke. “You know, just small… simple things. God knows I could barely understand what he was saying half the time.”

Your silly giggle at the end was the cherry on top of your sales pitch.

“Ah, that makes sense,” Ben bought it, chuckling.

Jesus fuck, shoot me…

“Where did you get it?”

“Huh?”

“The flashlight.”

“Oh…” Think fast. “I-, uh, I built it, yeah… To sell, you know? It’s an experiment, but it failed, so you can forget about it, okay?”

That was believable, right? Wozniak got nothing on you. And technically, you had already swapped out the broken screen glass of your vPhone multiple times – by yourself. It wasn’t so far-fetched if you really thought about it…

“Alright.” Ben nodded, a smile playing on his lips as he took a sip of coffee. “And, uh, is that why you’re wearing those clothes? Are you a mad scientist or farmhand or–“

Your eyebrows drew together. “A farmhand?”

He laughed lightly, shaking his head. “I promise I don’t mean any offense, sweetheart. It’s just women… people usually don’t really run around wearing… well, that,” he explained and gestured a hand up and down your frame.

Uncomfortably, you wrapped his wool coat tighter around you, the small, pleased twitch of his lips at your action sending a shiver down your spine. As you let your glance wander through the small establishment, you noted the tight dresses and skirts with tailored waists all women were wearing. You definitely looked odd and out of place compared to all the Mrs. Maisels around you.

Most of them were even wearing hats, too. Hats. Wide-brimmed ones and pillboxes and snoods and berets. Fucking berets.

And here you sat – with a messy bun that you hadn’t even bothered to brush once after rolling out of bed this morning.

“No, I-, uh, I just grabbed what I found,” you answered him quickly then but could see his lips parting with another question. Luckily, you were interrupted this time.

“Benjamin Brooks! You rat bastard!”

Ben’s green eyes widened almost comically as he shared a brief look with you before turning his head to the young, furious woman who stormed into the diner, heels clicking on the floor.

Ah yes, finally a more familiar side of the man you recognized from the future.

“Grace, darling!” Flustered, he rose from his seat with an awkward laugh, and you could tell he was trying to keep the drama on the down-low for your benefit.

The harsh slap across his cheek he instantly received, however, echoed loudly through the quiet diner. A few heads turned as cutlery clinked against tableware, but no one dared to say anything. You buried your face in your tea and tried to stifle your laugh.

Man, you would love to slap the human version of him, too.

“Don’t darling me, Benjamin, after you’ve been two-timing me with that tramp Betty Vanderbilt!” the girl yelled loud enough for the whole diner to hear.

Sheepishly and with a bit of charm, Ben scratched the back of his neck. “Well, to be fair, I thought you knew about Betty. We weren’t exactly exclus–“

He barely got the word out before another slap rang through the diner as her hand came down hard on his cheek once more. It was turning crimson red rather quickly and was a sight to behold. You had to admit you liked that girl.

“Not exclusive?! We’re engaged, you dog!”

Holy shit! Soldier Boy used to have a fiancée? Well, you’re not surprised that didn’t work out…

“I already forgave you once for sleeping with Sheila! I can’t believe you did this to me again!”

As much as you enjoyed the show, you appreciated the distraction and saw it as a perfect opportunity to sneak away and finally get rid of him. Stealthily, you rose from your chair and crept by the arguing couple to the exit.

You were warmed up enough to find shelter on your own and hoped the timeline wasn’t too cracked when you’d return. Mostly, though, you hoped Soldier Boy was too self-centered to remember someone like you.

You had made it all the way to the sidewalk again before his voice reached your ears. You sighed your frustration but kept on walking, ignoring his calls.

“Cindy! Hey, uh, wait!”

Shit.

Why was he so fucking fast? He wasn’t even a supe yet.

Once more, he came to a stop in front of you and blocked your way. “Why-, uh, why did you leave? I mean, I know this looked really bad, but–“

“Look, uh, thank you for everything,” you interrupted his beginning of an excuse with as much patience as you could find within yourself. “I know you’re trying to be nice and all, and you’ve been super kind… But I’ve got it from here, alright? Just forget you ever met me, okay?”

Amused, he snorted. “Well, kinda hard to forget someone like you, sweetheart.”

Fucking fuck.

“What d’you mean? I’m completely normal.” You tried to shrug it off, but you’d never been the best actress – another thing the two of you had in common.

“No, you’re not.” A smirk rose on his lips that he tried to bite back. “I mean, sure, you’re exceptionally beautiful, but you’re also kind of… mysterious. Guess that’s what intrigues me.”

Fuck. In all your effort to get rid of him and save the timeline, you had actually attracted his attention more. It seemed like your dismissiveness and aggression had only piqued his interest instead of deterring it. Your fallacy was thinking he’d back off from a strong, rude, and unruly woman like you.

You probably should’ve acted more like Grace, Betty, and Sheila – be forgettable.

“Alright, out of curiosity, does this little routine usually work for you?” you challenged, arching a brow. A smile played across your lips as you watched his reaction.

“What routine?”

“Oh, you know… Turning up the charming smile and being nice, while also dropping your rich daddy’s name and how much money you’ve got,” you retorted. “I mean, I guess it must work, right? Surely worked for Grace, Betty, and Sheila so far.”

Bobbing his head, he pursed his lips for a moment while you enjoyed your win. But with a smack of his lips, he found your eyes, the little smirk on his lips not fully vanished yet.

“Alright, I know how this looks, okay? But it’s not what you think,” he started.

“Oh, so you didn’t sleep with all of these women?”

“Well, uhm…”

Complacently, you threw him a smile. “Goodbye, Benjamin.”

“No, wait! Why don’t you come back inside with me where it’s warm and let me explain everything?” he proposed and then sent you that charmingly cute smile again. “I’m kinda starting to freeze here, you know? You’re still wearing my coat, sweetheart.”

“Oh, uh… Sorry.” Your brow knitted as you stared down at the warm, long clothing item around you. Flustered, your cheeks blushed, but as you began to take it off with the intent to hand it back to him, he stopped you.

“No, uh, please keep it. I can find another one,” he said, laughing softly. “Besides, it looks better on you.”

God, you wanted to slap him like Grace.

“Well, uhm, thank you, but I’m still not coming back in there with you again, alright?” you said firmly. “I have to get going now. Don’t follow me anymore.”

You tried to push past him, but of course, he still wasn’t listening to you.

“Wait! Just wait a second!”

And you knew if you didn’t stop, he would just keep following you till you both died of hypothermia. So, you spun to face him with a deeply impatient frown.

“Do you even know where you’re going? Do you have a place to stay?”

“Yes.”

“Where? In New York? You know, you’re not going to make it there on foot today. Especially during this weather,” he noted with a bit of playfulness in his voice. “Unless, you’re planing on stealing a car.” He chuckled but then lifted a brow at you. “You’re not, are you?”

“No, of course not!”

Well, not the worst idea…

“Alright, look, my parents are out of town for a month. Got the the whole mansion to myself. Just stay at my place for the night, and we can figure out how to get you to New York in the morning, alright?”

“You do know what that sounds like, right? Are you even hearing yourself?” you questioned, causing him to laugh again. It was still weird to hear it without undertones of viciousness in it – like a temporal whiplash.

“The house is big enough, and I promise you’ll have your own bedroom. Not mine, alright?” he clarified but tried to hide a smile. “Unless–“

“Nope.”

“Alright, well, uh, the point is, it’s big enough, so you don’t even have to see me if you don’t want to,” he added with an innocently imploring look. “Just let me help you, please.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, your brow only creasing more. “Why do you wanna help me so badly, huh? I don’t understand. I mean, are you really doing this out of the sheer goodness of your heart of gold? What’s your angle here, soldier boy?”

He chuckled, his cheeks warming with a flush. “Gotta say, kind of like that nickname.”

“I bet you do,” you muttered wryly. “So, why? Why are you helping me?”

Ben scratched his jaw and took a step closer to you. The air shifted, a part of you wondering if he’d finally drop his mask. He kept his deep voice low as he spoke.

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on here, but I know you’ve been serving me a lot of bullshit today.” Your heart stopped, but when you glanced at him, he wasn’t angry. He was… worried. “I don’t mind, okay? You just-… you look like someone who’s in a bit of trouble, and I guess I can relate, so let me help you, alright?”

“I-… I don’t know,” you replied honestly this time, both hesitation and caution shimmering in your eyes as your teeth clawed into your bottom lip. “What if I say no, you’re gonna hand me over to the cops? The asylum people?”

“Is that where you broke out from?”

A bit offended, you gasped. “The asylum?!”

Granted, you were acting a little crazy – for the time period. You were perfectly ordinary and sane in your own century.

Oh God, was that how Soldier Boy felt in your time? Always displaced and out-of-touch? What a horrible feeling…

“No, jail,” he said then, which caused your brow to raise in surprise.

“Oh.”

He cocked an eyebrow at you. “Wait, did you break out of jail?”

“No!”

“Alright, uhm…” Ben laughed and rubbed his palms together, probably to keep himself warm. His sandy-blond hair had collected quite a bit of snow. He must’ve forgotten his cap inside the diner. “Listen, I’m not going to call anyone. I promise you can trust me, okay?”

That seemed like a trap, right? A demon tricking you into making a deal for your soul.

“Are you, uhm, running from someone?” he asked, with not only concern but also determination to fight whoever was after you gleaming in his eyes.

Ironic, you thought since you were running from him.

“Uh, no, not really,” you replied hesitantly.

“Were you held somewhere?” he asked next, carefully licking his lips. “You know, against your will?”

Yes, by you, you wanted to scream.

“Kinda, yeah,” you admitted softly. And in a way, it felt weirdly therapeutic to confess that to the Dr. Jekyll version of your future Hyde.

“Okay, uhm…” He swallowed subtly, nodding. Then, his eyes bored so sincerely into yours you really thought you’d fallen down the rabbit hole. “Well, you don’t have to be scared. You’re safe with me, alright?”

Fuck. You were fucking screwed, weren’t you?

“So? You’re finally gonna let me help you?”

You exhaled a deep breath as you assessed the man in front you once more. You had no place to go, it was cold, and the sun was beginning to set. Your powers, on the other hand, still seemed to be dormant.

“Fine,” you caved at last. “One night. And you better not crawl into my bed, alright?”

Placatingly, he raised his hands again but there was a broad smile on his freckled face this time. “Understood, loud and clear. I heard you earlier – no means no.”

Wow. You began to wonder what really happened to the guy in the following 80 years to shape him into the toxic piece of shit you have to deal with on a daily basis.

“You sure your fiancée won’t mind if you take another woman home? I don’t wanna get burned at the stake again,” you quipped, but there was wariness behind it. Grace’s slaps looked pretty painful. You’d rather avoid it if you could.

“Again?”

“Long story,” you sighed. When you first had told Soldier Boy about your past, he’d been kind and understanding. He’d said it was a good thing that all those people who tried to burn you were dead now – which was about the nicest thing a guy like him could’ve said.

Then he turned around and made fun of you for months on end.

“Well, uhm, I can assure you she won’t kill you. It’s not like that, alright? She’s not my fiancée. Trust me,” Ben said, amused.

“That’s not what she said,” you pointed out. You were definitely believing that woman over him. He was a fucking dog – as Grace put it. You were sure that personality trait was the same at any point in time.

“Technicality.” He shrugged it off. You arched a brow. He smirked. “It’s a long story, too.”

You rolled your eyes, sighing. “Alright, fine.”

Ben’s smile twitched eagerly to rise higher by the heartbeat. “Okay, uhm, my car’s over there.”

He gestured down the street past the diner and let you pass, only walking closely next to you but careful not to touch as his arm only hovered protectively behind your back.

“Still no touching there, alright, Romeo?” you reminded him with a stern finger.

“I know,” he sang, chuckling. “Just trying to be proactive here. There’s a lotta ice, you know? Wouldn’t want you to slip in your basketball shoes.”

For reference, you were wearing a simple pair of black Chucks.

“Fine, I’ll allow it.”

“You allow it, huh?” he teased with a boyish grin.

“Yeah, I’ll allow you to protectively guard me from a distance,” you retorted. “You’re not supposed to enjoy it, though.”

“Oh, I don’t think that was the deal we made, sweetheart.” His grin grew even wider now.

“Don’t make me regret this already,” you sighed.

“Well, uh, too late. We’re already here,” he then said and stopped, motioning to a deep emerald green, elegant, sleek car with a beige convertible roof. “That’s it. It’s a Cadillac 75. What d’you think?”

“I don’t know enough about cars to be impressed,” you told him.

He laughed, rubbing his chin. “Well, worth a shot.”

Ben then opened the door for you and waited till you were safely seated inside (or trapped) before rounding the vehicle and sliding into the driver’s seat.

And as the two of you drove down the snowy streets of Philadelphia, you wondered if you had just gotten into a car with Clarence or with the fucking devil himself.

▶️ Chapter 3: I'm Going To Be a Lady If It Kills Me – APRIL 11

Ah, yes... Wouldn't we all love to slap him like Grace in the future? 😂 What do you think of young Ben so far? While he seems nicer and kinder than his alter ego, there are surely some core personality traits present 😜

Coming Up:

Reluctantly, you stepped into the hallway, unsure of how to ask, but the need to find something – anything – took over. It wasn’t like you could just wander around in a towel, although you were sure your host would probably appreciate the sight.

“Uhm, Ben?” you called softly, your tone a little shakier than you'd intended.

A few moments passed before his voice answered from down the hall, a bit too loud, as though he’d been waiting for this. “Yeah?”

“I-, uh, I don’t have... anything to wear,” you said quietly and swallowed, your gaze drifting to your bare feet on the floorboards.

There was a long pause before he appeared in the doorway, his face flushed. “Right. Well, I-... I can get you something,” he said. His eyes flicked to the floor for a moment before meeting yours again, the awkwardness hanging between you like a palpable thing that you could reach out and touch with your fingers. “I–” His voice dropped lower as he turned away for a second, his hand on the doorframe. He then gave a brief chuckle, almost self-conscious. “I don’t usually keep spare clothes for, uh, guests. But I’m sure I can find something that fits you. One second.”

You felt tethered to the ground as he disappeared down the hall, unsure whether to laugh or fucking scream. He came back a few moments later with a shirt and pants, an outfit clearly meant for a man, and you were pretty sure they were his own. The fit would be loose, but better than nothing.

“Here,” he said, offering it to you. His gaze lingered on you a second longer than was probably polite before he turned away again, his cheeks tinged pink.

Yeah, you had to get rid of the towel. You didn’t want to give him any ideas – or more, for that matter. He’d already seen you naked various times in the future. You knew privacy was an alien concept to that man.

🚀 Read up to 4 chapters ahead on Patreon now

Tag List Pt 1.:

@alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey

@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

@lori19 @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444

@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @yoobusgoobus @jessjad @dayhsdreaming

@hunter-or-the-hunted @k-slla @just-levyy @mrsjenniferwinchester @illicithallways

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@nesnejwritings @samslvrgirl @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @fromcaintodean @barewithme02

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@lamentationsofalonelypotato @supernotnatural2005 @stoneyggirl2 @kr804573 @m0e0v0v

[monlerfu]

Hello everyone, tumblr! How are you feeling? I brought you a HOT man here.

Be careful, don’t get burned

[muldermuse]

crawling towards billy whilst he’s naked and touching himself on the sofa 💕

kissing his hairy thighs and getting closer and closer to his cock 💕

[transatlantictoast]

Okay here's how I think it's gonna go.

Homelander opens soldier boys tube thing and soldier boy says "fuck you fuck nuts you're a fucking pussy, I'm gonna visit an old... Friend" soldier boy then runs out of the big military building they keep him in (still naked btw) and then he knocks out a guard wearing jeans and a work shirt over a grey t shirt and steals his clothes and shaves so they can't tell it's him, he then runs to the parking garage where all the government agents park for work and put of every car he breaks into and hotwires a black 67 impala.

When he turns on the radio it's playing carry on wayward son by Kansas and then he drives to wherever Misha's character lives and when he gets there he knocks on the door all nervous and Misha opens the door wearing a trenchcoat over a suit with a blue tie before saying in a very raspy voice "hello dean" revealing that soldier boys real name is Dean they then lock eyes for a second before making out and having hot passionate gay sex for the rest of the episode until in the last 30 seconds Jared walks in and says "hey so get this, according to the lore"

[cyrranka]

A Star Is Born

[dollerinna]

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

( black noir x fem supe!reader )

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ugh, talk about creepy.

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

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

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

─────────────────

“N-Noir… mmph-… please…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

After all, good girls should never cuss.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

─────────────────

Meanwhile…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[nijigasakilove]

Oh the woman you were.. you deserved so much better

[raingems-blog]

Hers

Summary: Victoria Neuman often protects what's hers

Warnings: age gap relationship, light mentions of trauma and manipulation, very light mention of murder

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

There weren't many things in this world that Victoria wanted to protect, and their were even fewer people. But somehow, you had wormed your way into the artic desert that resided in her chest. Your affection traversing the snowy tundra and scaling the defenses that she built as Nadia before finally finding refuge within the warm depths of her heart before you nested beside the heat of the blazing inferno that was her love.

Victoria's love was nothing if not intense and all consuming. Once you became hers, it was hard for her to let you go. Her very being warped to protect you, often putting you first before herself despite her manipulative and selfish tendencies.

The truth is, Victoria was a lover. She wanted to love, and she had affection that knew very little bounds. But it was Nadia that truly craved it, Nadia, that reached out and grasped onto those who she loved. She had lost so much at a tender age and clung to the ones present for fear of losing them to. Victoria was the protective shell that had formed around her true, most vulnerable self. Stan had made sure of it, and Victoria followed.

Oftentimes, when Victoria looked at her daughter Zoe, she reminded her of herself. She looked just like her when Victoria had been her age, and the need to protect her wasn't just maternal, but the need to protect her the way no one had before Stan. Everything she did was to prevent Zoe from having the same fate that was thrust upon her when she was simply so tender, so young and unequivocally vulnerable.

You had been a broke college graduate when Victoria had met you. You were vulnerable but determined. Your passion and desire for success drove you. With an ambition that rivaled her own, you had peaked her interest, and Victoria found herself willing to poke and prod at the depths of your mind. She had initially been driven by her desire to mold and manipulate, to see what use you would provide her, but what she hadn't anticipated was how disarming your charm and smile would be.

You were young, but you were smart. Clearly molded by your experiences that pushed you; nay forced you to grow. You had worked for everything that you had, and Victoria liked that. She hadn't meant to fall for you, especially when she was almost ten years your senior, but it happened.

There was controversy, of course there was. Victoria Neuman dating a twenty something was prime material for the hungry sharks in the water that had smelled blood. Victoria could handle it. A little blowback from her rivals and opportunistic journalists alike was the least of her concerns when she had had many more scathing articles written about her before.

It was you that she worried for. You weren't used to this, to having all eyes on you, especially in such an aggressive and frankly invasive manner. All of your socials had been privated out of necessity, and you had been hounded at your place of work before you were forced to hole yourself off in an attempt to protect yourself from the relentless onslaught of attention your relationship brought.

Victoria had her ways and connections and forced the noise to stop, grinding everything to a halt by having a significantly more scandalous thing be coincidentally leaked about a political rival that the journalists ate up. Her relationship had become stale in the ever turning, ever churning machine of the rumor mill. Now, the claws of the scavengers sunk into flesh much more delectable, leaving you able to finally breathe the fresh air uninterrupted and mostly unbothered.

You were hers, and Victoria would protect what was hers, even if she had to pop a few heads and uproot a few lives to do it.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

[faunshiii]

tysm for all the love on my other starlight drawings!!!!! here's some more fanart, featuring other characters this time :DD

[ghostinthemach1ne]

currently mourning homelander’s season 1 hair

[isaacthedruid]

imagining solider boy calling misha’s character “angel” or something stupid to reference spn right now but in that bitchy way he always says shit

[cyrusthedragon]