wayward-dreamer

[wayward-dreamer]

Just had a blog follow me that was very bold to put the fact that they’re 17 in their bio.

I clearly need to reiterate that this is a strictly 18+ NSFW blog, despite the fact that it is already stated on my bio and pinned post. I will gladly accept new followers if they’re 18 and older, but as a PSA to those younger and who might be lurking, please know you will be blocked if you’re younger than 18. That’s just how it’s got to be until you’re old enough to be here and read my fics.

Thanks.

[wayward-dreamer]

PEDRO PASCAL as Marcus Acacius in GLADIATOR II 2024 — dir. Ridley Scott

[wayward-dreamer]

To my American friends and followers, I’m so sorry. I cannot imagine how scary this must be for you all and I just want you all to know that I am holding your hand and hugging you from across the ocean right now 🧡

[wayward-dreamer]

[wayward-dreamer]

Old Flame

Part 2 to New Blood

Square/s filled: "is that right?" @anyfandomkinkbingo (prompt in bold)|

Pairing: Soldier Boy x F!Supe!Reader

Word count: 5,229

Summary: Y/N never expected that a knock at her door late at night would result in a reunion with Soldier Boy, someone she long thought to be dead. The meeting gets off to a rocky start, but when certain truths come to light, some unexpected feelings come along with them.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, smut: dirty talk, unprotected sex (wrap it up people), I think that's it lol

A/N: I'm so excited to finally bring this to you guys! I just realised I posted the first part a year ago, so it's about time lol... beta'd my loves @hintsofhoney and @makeadealwithdean

Get the job done.

In all his tenure as Soldier Boy, that’s what he had learnt and kept faith in. He had tried to instill that in his team continuously for so long, but along the way he lost his grip on them, enough that they had taken action against him and given him up to the Russians.

The only credit he could give them was that he never saw it coming. Noir was always crafty that way, which was why he had no doubt Stan Edgar had put him up to it.

The last few days had been a complete whirlwind.

He had been released from a chamber in Russia, confronted by the modern world, burned Countess and the Twins to a crisp, all while running with two guys propositioning him to kill the “new” him, Homelander. Who he found out was his son, right before he caved Mindstorm’s face in with his shield. They were still on the search for Noir, but they were close. He had conflicting feelings about Homelander given the revelations, but if he was prepared to do what needs to be done.

He sipped his whiskey, reclined in the wrinkled leather armchair of The Legend’s office in his home upstate. He continued this nightly routine, contemplating the old days compared to this new world he had found himself in. He recalled the golden years, the nights of endless parties, alcohol, drugs, beautiful women, being in the pocket of so many of Hollywood’s elite and notable political figures. He remembered the Vought events, Herogasm in its prime and not the pathetic mess he had witnessed days ago. He thought back to those last few weeks before they left for Nicaragua, that shareholders party that ended up being his last. The night he met Y/N. Ember.

“Everyone knows Noir’s the only valuable player for Vought. The rest of you… you’re gonna end up C-listers, with crummy deals at amusement parks and running Herogasm into the fucking ground.”

He scoffed as he sipped the amber liquid. She had been right, of course. That was exactly what happened, and she had the foresight about Payback’s fate before any of them did. She may have tried to push his buttons, but he couldn’t help but let his mind wander to the result of it. The sex was pretty fucking great; no matter how much he hated her attitude, he had to admit that fact.

“And as for you…You know they’re all just humoring you, right? Countess, the twins. I mean fuck, even Edgar just gives you shit to do so he doesn’t actually have to deal with you. He’s probably got a replacement lined up for you already.”

Just as the memories of her body against his plagued him, her words echoed in his head once more. Words that had broken his last resolve, that had him pushing her against the wall, that had fuelled their rageful lust for each other. Slowly, he stood up from the chair, replaying them in his mind. Yet again, she had prophesied something that he wouldn’t know the truth about until now.

So how the fuck did she know? She may not have been part of the team back then, but she sure as fuck knew something. Did she have something to do with the plot to get rid of him, too? Did she and Noir make the plan together?

She had voiced her desire to join Payback, going as far as telling him she’d talk to Stan after they had fucked and broken several pieces of furniture in his penthouse apartment.

He needed to know where she was so he could pay her a little visit like he had with the rest of his team.

-x-

Y/N settled in for the evening, laid back against the couch with a glass of whiskey on the coffee table and a joint resting in the ashtray next to it. The light of the television flashed against her face as some shitty daytime show was almost finished, ready to give way to the 6pm news. She had briefly seen something about an explosion in Midtown Manhattan a few days ago, followed by another in Montpelier, Vermont, but she didn’t pay much attention to it.

Sliding down against the cushions as the headlines started, she reached for the joint and brought it to her lips, clicking her fingers and lighting the end of it from the small flame. She inhaled, blowing out a large puff of smoke as she drew her knees up. With one hand, she reached for her foot and rubbed her thumb along her toes, firmly. She grimaced at the dull ache that had developed over the years, before stretching her leg out and hearing her bones click loudly. One of the many things Vought took from her; her physicality. She may not have aged a day thanks to the Compound V, but that didn’t mean the years of service to that fucked up place hadn’t taken a toll on her.

Taking another pull from the joint, Y/N glanced at the TV as a new headline came up. Her eyes narrowed in confusion as old images of Soldier Boy flashed across the screen, with the words SOLDIER BOY ALIVE? appeared over them. She jolted up from the couch, reaching for the remote and pressing hard on the volume button, making it louder than it had been. An instagram video with the supe she recognized as Starlight came after the pictures, her words ringing in Y/N’s ears.

“It’s been five days, and still nothing but lies from Vought. Soldier Boy is still out there, and Maeve is still missing, and you know what? More people are just going to die before they admit to what’s going on.”

Her eyes widened as the report continued, piecing the last few days and events together.

“As you heard Starlight there, it’s been five days since the events in Montpelier, Vermont where seven supes were killed, and several more injured. This comes a few days after the explosion in Midtown, with the prime suspect being Soldier Boy, Vought’s most respected supe. Long thought dead for the last 3 decades, which now leads us to believe: what has else Vought been hiding? Stay tuned-”

Y/N shut the TV off, the house eerily silent. She breathed heavily as she tried to understand what was happening. Was he really alive? After all this time? Had he really killed all those people? In an explosion no less. She knew his violent nature but was he really capable of something like this? Midtown was close to The Legend’s penthouse. Had Ben gone after him too?

While the reality of lives lost made her blood boil, the only thing that made her happy was the thought that Vought was probably running around with their heads cut off trying to fix this mess. She’d love to be in that building again and witness it, but she had never been so glad to be out of that life.

She knew that if there were casualties in Vermont, then it was definitely at Herogasm. The TNT twins were no doubt a part of those numbers, which meant Ben was going after all of the team. She had lost contact with Countess decades ago, which was she relieved about considering everything she and the rest of the team had put her through. Y/N had left Payback almost thirty years ago; crime fighting nearly twenty years ago, and she had never looked back. She had refused appearances at Godolkin and any Vought events over the years, and when they finally stopped reaching out she felt free of their hold on her.

There was no word on Countess, the twins were most likely dead; The Legend too, probably. That meant Noir and Mindstorm were next, and then Ben would no doubt be coming for her. If he was alive, then he had clearly learnt of her appointment to Payback, something they had argued over that fateful night, even if it did result in really great sex.

She stood up from the couch and rushed into her bedroom, knowing there was only one thing she could do at that moment. She needed to leave before he found her.

She pulled out her small suitcase, dumped it on the bed and began filling it with whatever she needed for a few days at least. That news report had put the fear of every God into her and she knew that she needed to pack quickly. She had never met Starlight, but after hearing who was responsible… she knew something was up even if she didn’t want to believe it. He couldn’t be alive. Not after all this time.

She couldn’t take any chances of him finding her and killing her too. Especially after that night, in his penthouse at the old Vought American building, when she said all those horrible things to him. Things that she had regretted the moment she found out he was gone in that nuclear blast. Was that how he was alive now and had managed to wipe out nearly everyone at Herogasm?

She pondered everything in her mind, shaking her head as the thoughts continued in a reel, continuing to put her things together as she moved on auto-pilot. She zipped up the bag, grabbed her passport from one of the drawers in her dresser and shoved it into her handbag. The Legend lived close by, and she just hoped and prayed that he wasn’t dead already. She needed his help to make her disappear for a while, because he was the only one she still trusted. She pushed the clothes in her closet to either side of the rack, reaching forward to the safe in the wall. Turning the dial a few times, it clicked open from the right combination and allowed her to take out a few bundles of cash that she had.

Just as she decided to change into jeans and t-shirt from her nightie and robe, a sudden knock on the door broke through the silence, stunting her in place. She felt a shiver run down her back as the ominous quiet stretched on. Slowly, she wrapped her robe around her body and tied it, walking out of her room. She stared at the front door, wondering if she just imagined it. Another knock sounded on the solid wood, and she flinched, gasping softly. Shaking her head, she rolled her shoulders as she straightened up, psyching herself up as she took leisured steps towards the entrance. She lightly wiggled her fingers to make small embers light up the tips, just as she reached for the doorknob. She twisted it slowly, opening the door wide to see no one there on her porch.

“What the fuck?” she whispered, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Just as her hand reached for the porch light switch next to the frame, her eyes widened at the familiar face they stepped in front of her, paralyzing her in her place. It was the face of a ghost, or at least, he should’ve been. She staggered back as heavy footfalls moved slowly towards her, his green eyes staring into hers as his face remained stoic, the door hinges creaking as he shut the door behind him.

“Ben,” she gulped, squaring her shoulders as she stood her ground. She wasn’t going to let him intimidate her. “H-How are you alive?”

His blank facial expression gave way to a slow, sinister smirk. “Well you and the team handing me to the fucking Reds didn’t work out the way you planned.”

She frowned, shaking her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

In one swift motion, Soldier Boy’s hand wrapped around her neck, turning her around and slamming her against the wall. She gasped as his fingers curled over her throat, her body trapped by his shield pressed against her. She tried to push it away with her free hands, but his strength was too much for her.

“Don’t lie to me,” he snarled, glaring down at her. “I could snap this little neck like a fucking toothpick and you know it, sugar.”

“I-I’m not,” she choked, slapping at his arm.

“You seemed pretty confident about what was gonna happen to all of them,” he recalled, squeezing harder on her neck. “Countess, the twins. So you’re gonna tell me the fucking truth.”

“Or what? You’re really gonna kill me like you did the others?” she gulped around her words.

“Depends on your fucking answer,” he replied.

Her lungs burned as took a harsh breath once he released his hold on her. Her chest heaved as she looked up at him, still trapped between the wall and his shield. Her eyes darkened with rage, her jaw clenching as her nostrils flared the longer they remained in defiant silence. With the little strength she could muster, she raised her arms and pushed against his chest, pushing him back a few paces. His shield slipped out of his grip as he braced himself, his upper lip twitching as he glared at her. Her hands glowed with tiny embers that grew as she stepped towards him.

“Anything I say isn’t gonna matter to you,” she stated, wiggling her fingers around and causing small flames to ignite her palms.

“It all fucking happened, Y/N,” he husked, his stance changing into fight mode as glanced between her face and her hands. “Exactly the way you said. I mean, fuck, they probably replaced me with fucking Homelander - my son - because you told them to!”

“S-Son?” she stuttered, her eyes widening.

He chuckled, smugly. “Come on, doll. It’s hard to believe you had nothing to do with any of this. So what was it, huh? Getting rid of me as some kind of initiation from Noir and the rest of them? You were the final fucking puzzle piece in his plan?”

Y/N shook her head as her fingers tightened into fists, and before she realized her actions, she lifted the right and punched him across the face. The flesh of cheek singed by the embers healed quickly as he looked back at her, grabbing her by her arms and flinging her aside. Her back hit the wall hard, photo frames from the mantel above the fireplace falling off and shattering on the floor. She rolled her shoulders as pushed off the wall, some of the drywall stuck to the back of her silky robe. She tried to strike him again, but as he ducked away, he gripped her waist and turned her around, caging her in by his strong arms. She elbowed him but he didn’t budge; a complete wall of immovable muscle against her. She reached back, her fingers scraping against his cheek, a painful grunt escaping him as she burned his skin long enough for him to let go of her.

“Bitch,” he growled.

Soldier Boy wiped his fingers along his face, the flesh reforming before any blood was drawn. He moved towards her, but she bent down and quickly pulled the blade from his holster, coming back up as she flicked the blade around, slicing his palm through his glove. Once again he was unaffected as gripped her wrist, forcing her backwards and slamming her into the wall. She shrieked as her head hit the hard surface, the sound growing more desperate as she tried to free her hand from his hold. The deja vu of the whole situation wasn’t lost on either of them, as they found themselves in a similar position as that night, but she wasn’t going to let that distract her. As his other hand moved over her throat again, he hit her fist against the wall in an effort to get her to drop the knife. Just as the grip fell from her fingertips and before he could get the upper hand once more, she grabbed him by his kevlar vest, kneeing him in the stomach as hard as she could with her waning strength. A grunt, more of surprise than pain left him as he let go of her, slightly hunched as he collected himself.

“I got the gig 6 weeks after you were gone,” she blurted out. Before this escalated more than it already had, she was going to tell him what really happened.

He glared at her, straightening up slowly. “What?”

“Whenever you were taken… I only got into the team once Vought handled that whole situation,” she added, trying to catch her breath as she moved towards him, slowly. “Which they did a fucking piss poor job of considering I never believed for a second you were dead in a nuclear explosion.”

With a heavy exhale he watched her carefully, looking for any tells that she was lying. She knew exactly what he was trying to do, from the way his shoulders tensed and his eyes narrowed. She shook her head, scoffing as mentally told herself to “fuck it” because if she had to die defending herself, then so be it. At least she’d go out with some integrity.

“I had nothing to do with the plot to hand you over, okay? I didn’t know about Noir’s plan!” she exclaimed, stepping closer to him. “Though, if you ask me, those orders probably came from Stan ‘cause he’s the only one smart and sneaky enough to think of it. So no, it wasn’t an initiation. Trust me, that process was far worse.”

A bitter chuckle fell from her lips as she met his eyes again. His eyebrows furrowed, taking her in properly for the first time since he stepped into her house. Apart from the lines around her eyes she looked exactly the same, but something behind her eyes told him she wasn’t the pistol of a woman he had a fiery twenty minutes with all those years ago. He wasn’t about to ask her, because fuck feelings and all that gooey shit, but considering his own experiences in that Russian lab he realized he wasn’t the only tortured one in the room.

Y/N couldn’t decipher his silence. The longer he didn’t say a word, the angrier she got and that was dangerous in that precarious moment. She couldn’t stop herself, however, so before she realized what she was doing, she pushed him. It didn’t matter to her that he was a brick wall, her rage was consuming her and it needed to be unleashed in any way she could find. She hated to be called a liar, and there was no way he was going to get away with it. 

“No matter how much anyone asked for the truth about you it was always the same fucking answer!” she yelled, shoving him again. “The same lies they sold to the public were the same ones they gave us!”

Another push.

“Y/N-”

He stepped back, trying to move out of her way as he reached for her hands, but she was quick as they pressed into his chest again and forced him back, harder this time. 

“So, no! I had no fucking idea that you got taken by the Russians! No fucking idea the team did that to you! I joined Payback to look after my family, not to get rid of you!”

She jostled him again, her palms suddenly engulfed with large embers as she reached up and slapped him across the face. A pained groan escaped him this time, but as he tried to recover she used her other hand across the other side of his face. The skin singed before it healed quickly, but she kept coming at him, kept slapping and shoving, her teeth gritting as she screamed at him. He grunted as he reached for her, his fists closing tight around her wrists as she tried to pull out his grip, scowling at him as her fingers blazed.

“Y/N, stop!” he roared, his gaze far more menacing than hers.

But she didn’t back down. It was too late now.

“I asked about you, you son of a bitch! I tried to find out where you were! You wanted the truth? There it is!”

Her continuous attempt to free herself from his grasp failed, groaning in frustration as she tried to move away, but there was no use.

“Let me go,” she hissed, glaring up at him.

His hands tightened around her wrists causing her to gasp in pain.

“L-Let me fucking go and get the fuck out of my house!”

Soldier Boy remained stoic as she struggled, his heated gaze on her causing her stop. Their eyes locked on each other, and for the first time since he stepped through the door Y/N saw something else behind the intensity of his green orbs. What it was, she wasn’t sure and he probably had no idea what he was feeling either, but before she could understand what was happening, he dropped her wrists and roughly cupped her face as his lips fused with hers. A surprised moan escaped her as he grabbed her so quickly, but her hands instantly moved into his hair, pushing herself up on her tip-toes to get closer to him.

There was nothing gentle about the embrace. Their lips moved harshly against each other’s as her frenzied grasp tugged at his vest. She pulled away, gasping for air as she made quick work of opening the buckles and pushing the kevlar up, allowing him to pull it over his head and throw it aside. He pulled her close as they met in another frantic kiss, stumbling towards the living area as they dodged furniture. He reached for the tie on her silk robe, pulling it free and practically tearing off her before she tossed it somewhere in the room, stripping her of the short silk nightie she had been wearing just as fast. The back of her calf hit the corner of the coffee table, causing her to lose balance as she hit the floor, pulling him down on top of her. Luckily the thick rug softened the fall, but neither of them noticed as he stared down at her, completely naked in front of his still-clothed frame. Her frenetic grasp on his suit as she yanked at the gathered collar and pulled the zip down caused an amused expression to grace his features.

“Someone’s fucking eager,” he chuckled.

She scoffed, hastily sitting up and pushing the sleeves down his biceps before reaching for his pants. “Please, your dick just happens to be the only one in the vicinity.”

“Is that right?” he asked, briefly halting her urgency as he held her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “‘Cause if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you got a thing for me, doll.”

“You kissed me first,” she retorted, one eyebrow cocked as she looked up at him, her fingers deftly unzipping his pants. “What’s that say about you?”

“That I’m the one in charge,” he husked, taking her hands in his and pinning her down on the rug once more.

“Then shut up and fuck me,” she smirked.

He grinned as his face hovered above hers, breath mingling as their lips were inches apart. Without wasting any more time, he tugged the waistband of his pants down and took hold of his cock, hard and pulsing in his hand. He lined himself up to her entrance, and in one swift tilt of his hips, he was sheathed by her walls. Her mouth fell open at the familiar stretch, her eyes squeezing shut as she moaned loudly. She grabbed onto his broad, muscular shoulders, pulling him as close as their bodies could press together. He set a brutal pace to his thrusts, his pelvis smacking against her as she wrapped her legs around him, the heels of her feet resting under the curve of his ass. The threads of the carpet under her scraped her back, but she couldn’t have cared less at that point. Everything about that moment felt the same as all those years ago, and yet, completely different.

His touch was as harsh as before and so was the way he pounded into her. Something lingered under the surface, however, something that was unfamiliar to her and that she had never experienced with any of the men she had slept with. Just as she had with the others, she pushed it aside and tugged the hair at the back of his head, their lips fused together in a rough kiss.

“Fuck,” he husked, his mouth brushing against hers. “So fucking tight for me…”

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up and fuck me?” she taunted.

He glared down at her, taking in the rapid rise and fall of her chest. “What? This isn’t enough for you?”

“Looks like you’re fucking out of practice, old man,” she snickered.

The scornful laugh died quickly as he took her words as a challenge, slamming into her even harder. The shrieking moan that ripped from her throat had her regretting her words, her eyes closing as stars appeared behind them. Her grip on his shoulders tightened, the pads of her fingers digging into his skin as her nails left crescent marks behind.

It was his turn to mock her, chuckling as he stared down at her. “That’s what I fucking thought… only way to put bratty sluts like you in their place.”

She cried out, half in rage at what he called her and the other half ashamed that it had an effect on her, her walls clenching around him as she felt the familiar heat in her core. She hadn’t felt like this in a long time, well… since the last time she was with him. She tried not to think about how pathetic that was.

“Shit,” she hissed, pressing her lips together.

“Suddenly speechless,” he smirked.

“Fuck you.”

A boisterous laugh left him as he continued to move within her, his hips unrelenting. Her fingers squeezed down harder on his skin, the embers that appeared under them beginning to burn his flesh. He broke eye contact with her as his head dropped down, his shoulders heaving under her painful touch. He closed his eyes, squeezing them as his hips began to falter, causing her to frown. It was unexpected, and she had no idea what was happening to him, especially as a pool of light glowed on his chest.

“Ben…” she whispered, her hands instantly cupping his face and forcing him to look at her.

Just as the light scorches dissipated on his skin as it healed, so did the strange light that looked as if it would erupt from his chest. She gazed up at him, watching as his eyes finally focused on hers.

“What the fuck was-”

He cut the question off as he kissed her hard, his thrusts picking up pace once more. She moaned into his mouth, the confusion as to what had just happened disappearing as he pushed her towards her release. Her walls tightened around him, the intense sensation in her core too much of her to take.

“Fucking cum, Y/N,” he breathed against her lips, his gaze locked on hers. “Be a good girl and cum for me…”

A loud whimper left her as she threw her head back, her hands moving up the back of his neck and into his hair, gripping the locks between her fingers. Her eyes closed tightly as her vision turned white behind them, just as the coil snapped and she felt her wetness cover his cock. His own release came just a few seconds later, a deep growl escaping him as he dropped his head down, his seed coating her walls.

They breathed heavily as they came down from their euphoric high, but it didn’t last long as Ben pulled out of her, sitting on the floor and leaning back against the couch. Y/N sat up, reaching for her robe and pulling it on, tying it around her. The silence was awkward and she wasn’t sure how to break it as she heard him reaching for her lighter and the joint she hadn’t finished. He lit it again, bringing it to his pouty lips and taking a long pull.

“So… when did you find out about Homelander being your son?” she asked, not knowing if that was the best way to start but it was better than addressing what happened just a couple of minutes ago.

“A few days ago,” he replied, the smoke blowing out between his words. “Long story.”

She nodded, unsure of what to say next.

“Ben, what happened-”

“We’re not fucking talking about it, doll,” he snarled, pinning her with an intense glare. “Mention it and I can slit that little throat of yours so fast.”

“I’d like to see you try,” she challenged.

She shifted closer to him, her neck craned back, taunting him. She looked at him with hooded lids, biting her lip to keep her from cackling in his face. She plucked the joint from between his fingers and brought it to her mouth, taking a drag. She dropped her head to meet his gaze, blowing the puff of smoke out directly into his face. She knew she was pushing it, but she also knew he was all talk. When it came to her; if he really wanted to cause her harm he would’ve done it that night.

“Don’t you have another Payback member to kill?” she asked, nonchalant.

His jaw clenched the longer he sat in front of her and saw that she wasn’t giving him the satisfaction he would’ve had if she was scared. He stood up quickly, finding his suit around the room and putting each piece back on. As he picked his shield and walked to the door, she followed behind him, a mischievous grin pulling at her lips as she raised an eyebrow in question.

“Raincheck on that long story?”

“Sure you don’t wanna admit you want me first?” he grinned.

She scoffed. “And inflate that ego of yours even more? No fucking way.”

He growled as he reached up and grabbed the front of her neck, leaning in and kissing her roughly. She snickered slightly as her lips moved against his, pulling away before she could let herself fall further into his strange yet intense hold on her.

Ben pulled away from the kiss, and with a wink and suggestive wiggle of his brow he turned the doorknob, walking out onto the porch and into the night. She closed the door, leaning back against it as she took in the state of her living room. She didn’t get the answers she wanted, hell she barely asked the questions she needed to, but considering she never expected this to happen, for him to actually be alive, she supposed they had time to reveal truths and secrets that had been kept for so long.

Something had changed between them, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t help but dwell on it. If their next encounter was going to be anything like it was moments ago, then how could she not? He was a brute and she couldn’t stand him, but fuck it, the sex was worth it.

And that alone was the reason she could learn to tolerate him.

[wayward-dreamer]

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Do you prefer editing as you write, or waiting until it’s finished? 

What part of the writing process do you enjoy the most? (Brainstorming, outlining, writing, editing, etc) 

Does anyone in your personal life know you write fic? if not, would you tell anyone?

Have you had a writer you admire comment on your fic? What was that like?

Why do you continue writing fics?

Thoughts on cliffhangers?

Something you hate to see in smut.

Something you love to see in smut.

Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

How do you deal with writing pressure (ie. pressure to update, negative comments, deadlines, etc.)?

Do you prefer prompts and challenges, or completely independent ideas?

What, if anything, do you do for inspiration?

What work of yours, if any, are you the most embarrassed about existing?

When asked, are you embarrassed or enthusiastic to tell people that you write?

When it comes to more complicated narratives, how do you keep track of outlines, characters, development, timeline, ect.?

What order do you write in? front of book to back? chronological? favorite scenes first? something else?

What do you think makes your writing stand out from other works?

You’ve posted a fic anonymously. How would someone be able to guess that you’d written it?

What scene in [Fanfic Name] took the longest to write? What was difficult about it? 

Did you have any ideas that didn’t make the final cut of [Fanfic Name]? 

Do you have a favorite scene you’ve written from [Fanfic Name] story/chapter? 

[wayward-dreamer]

Captain America: Brave New World Cast Panel at SDCC - July 27, 2024

[wayward-dreamer]

Do you really think he’s going to show up? Yes, undoubtedly, knowing my luck. He may be a cowboy, but I know the breed. His word is his word.

THE MUMMY (1999) dir. Stephen Sommers

[wayward-dreamer]

10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU (1999) dir. Gil Junger

[wayward-dreamer]

Because only Emma can get poetic while writing porn

Pretty sure I died several times reading this and you will too but you also won’t be disappointed 🥰

for the love of a drug - harringroveson

pairing: metalsandwich (steve harrington x billy hargrove x eddie munson)

words: 7k

a/n: right, so this is my first fic this year (how embarrassing), but i've been working on this off and on since january. it's also my first threesome fic, so that's exciting! anyway, lmk what you think please!

warnings/tags: smut (18+ only! minors dni, i will scream), pwp, threesome (yayyy), dom/sub vibes, oral sex, anal, light daddy kink (it's said a total of one [1] time) dom!eddie, sub!steve, switch!billy

“You staying in the car?” Billy asked gruffly. 

 Steve looked at him from the passenger seat with that little soft smile. Smirk, more like it. Billy was more than familiar with that look. It was the look Steve always gave him whenever Billy requested something of him, Steve knew what he wanted him to say, and yet, he was about to say the exact opposite. Billy preemptively groaned inwardly

 Sure enough, Steve hummed in that light, airy tone of his, “No, that’s okay. I’ll come in with you.”

 Billy rolled his eyes, but knew it was pointless trying to argue with him. Steve loved for his boyfriend to boss him around in the bedroom, but when it came to scenarios that were less…sexual, Steve much preferred to make his own decisions and did. 

 Billy swung himself out of the camaro and rounded the front. He opened the passenger side door, extending his hand to his pretty boy in the seat, who had been waiting for just that. 

 “Alright, c’mon, princess,” Billy gave him an extremely brief and obviously fake smile, to which Steve just laughed, and took his hand, climbing delicately out of the lower seat. 

 Billy closed the car door after his lanky boyfriend and stepped in front of him, still reaching backwards to keep Steve’s hand intertwined with his, leading him towards the entrance of the trailer sitting in front of them. It was dark, but the park was dimly lit, and the trailer itself had warm light shining from the windows. 

 Billy marched them both up the steps of the trailer and rapped sharply on the door. He could feel Steve standing one step below him, but pressed against his back, keeping close as always. He almost smiled at the thought.    Just as he was about to raise his hand to knock again, the door flew open. Eddie Munson stood on the other side, hand on the door knob, and gestured them in with a weird mix between a bow and a curtsy. He greeted Billy with his signature jester-like smirk and an unsurprised, “Hargrove.”

 Only when Billy stepped forward to come in, guiding Steve along with him, did Munson even seem to notice Billy wasn’t alone. He made an exaggerated expression of surprise, pressing his hand over his chest, “It couldn’t be!” Eddie gasped dramatically. “Steve Harrington? Thee King Steve is standing in my living room?” He swept his arm out wide in another odd bow of sorts and reached for Steve’s unoccupied hand, taking it in his own and inclining his forehead towards the brunette. 

 Billy’s boyfriend just blinked down at the metalhead, whose hand was encircling his fingers as if Steve were the belle of the ball, and…wait, was Steve blushing? Billy gritted his teeth, “Munson…” The word came out lower than Billy had even intended it to; his voice held an obvious warning.

 Eddie dropped Steve’s hand and stood up straight, even held his hands up in a gesture of peace, but his smirk told Billy that he really wasn’t fazed in the slightest. Fucker.

 “So,” Munson said, clapping his hands together, “what can I do for you boys?”

 “Need some weed,” Billy told him, and if he was still gripping Steve’s hand possessively, well, that was his own business. “For both of us.”

 “No problem,” Eddie held up a finger in a “one moment” gesture and ducked down a hallway, probably to his bedroom. He returned a few seconds later, holding that metal lunchbox he carried around school all the time. He flopped down on the couch and gestured for Billy and Steve to sit as he undid the box’s clasp. Billy opted to remain standing, arms crossed over his chest, but Steve perched delicately on the arm of the couch, peering curiously in Eddie’s box, with his hand wrapped gently around Billy’s inner thigh. Not sexually, but more in a way of keeping him near. Billy smiled inwardly at the thought.

 “Right,” Eddie finished rifling through his stash and produced a plastic baggie, decently full. “Half ounce should last you long enough. Let’s say…$40?”

 Billy cleared his throat, “About that. Look, I won’t get paid for another week, but Steve and I really need it now. We were hoping you’d wanna front, just the once?” 

Billy wasn’t one for begging, was hardly even one for asking nicely, but Steve had, in fact begged him, with those annoyingly irresistible puppy eyes, no less, to get them some. He’d even offered to pay for it himself, but Billy had refused that, too. Forced Steve to leave his wallet at home even. Billy might be a massive asshole, but to Steve exclusively, he’d resolved to be a gentleman…at least, as much as possible. Over his dead body would his pretty boy be paying for Billy’s drugs, even if Steve was partaking as well.

Eddie was shaking his head though, “Nope, sorry, I don’t do any type of loans, or transactions where you ‘owe’ me. S’not that I don’t trust you, though…” he waved his hand dismissively as if chasing away the implication that he, in fact, did not trust them, “just not how I roll. Gotta pay up front, or it’s no deal.” He snapped his box shut with a metallic clunk.

Billy sighed, and Steve tugged on his arm, giving him the biggest puppy dog eyes imaginable, “Please, I really need some nowwww.” Billy sighed again.

“C’mon, Munson, really?” He gestured helplessly towards Steve, who was now directing his big sad-eyed gaze at Eddie.

“Aww, looks like your Stevie needs his drugs bad,” Eddie cooed before returning to his normal voice. “Sorry boys. I don’t front, not even to Hawkins royalty.” He directed a two-fingered salute and a smirk towards Steve, another nod to “King Steve,” of course. “Although…” Eddie pondered aloud, pausing and grinning wickedly as his tone dripped with insinuation, “I do accept alternative forms of payment.”

Billy’s eyes widened and then narrowed, like he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard, but also, he was pissed about it. Steve put his hand on Billy’s forearm though, and Billy felt the surge of anger melt away to mild annoyance, and a little bit of surprise at the metalhead’s audacity. “No. Not gonna happen,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes.

Steve tugged on his arm though, and forced him to lean down so he could whisper, lips brushing gently on his ear, “Please, please, Bills. I really want his weed, and also…” Steve hesitated as if he wasn’t sure continuing was a good idea or not. “Also, he’s not ugly,” he finally decided. 

Billy glared at him sideways. He definitely wasn’t thrilled about that admission, but he knew Steve loved him, and he couldn’t even pretend to be mad when Steve looked like that, eyes like a baby deer, and god, he was blushing. Billy loved when Steve got all flustered. He clenched his jaw, and gritted out, “Fine, what is it that you want, Munson?”

Eddie’s eyebrows raised in surprise, probably surprise that Billy hadn’t just punched him on the spot, but Eddie stood anyway— he seemed taller now somehow to Billy— and took a step towards the blond, who held his ground. Eddie was staring him down, but Billy didn’t get flustered easily. He stared back, but to his credit, Eddie didn’t seem fazed either. Actually, he seemed fucking amused. He wasn’t smiling, not even a smirk, but there was some kind of twinkle in his brown eyes that got on Billy’s nerves. “What I want,” Eddie said slowly, emphasizing the “t” in want so hard that Billy blinked, “is for you to drop the fucking attitude.”

Billy’s brain glitched.

Steve’s jaw dropped. He looked back and forth between his boyfriend and Eddie, a clear expression of “oh-my-god-Billy’s-gonna-kill-him” written all over his pretty face.

Eddie kept his eyes locked on Billy’s, staring him down, making it really fucking clear exactly who was in charge here.

And Billy?

Well, Billy was still absolutely dumbfounded. He blinked hard, trying to clear the fog that had settled around his brain since Eddie had opened his mouth. It didn’t clear much, just enough to make him aware of the pressure now building below his beltline. He swallowed hard, frowning, and opened his mouth to tell Munson, that no one, repeat, no one, bossed him around like that, but Eddie tilted his chin up further before Billy could even begin to get the words out.

“Ah, ah,” Eddie tutted, looking down his nose at the blond who was now very slightly shrinking before him. “I know you weren’t about to argue with me, Billy, now were you?”

Billy wanted to shrug, feign indifference, act entirely unaffected. Though secretly he was thinking that Steve was a little bit right about one thing. Munson wasn’t ugly. And if he was honest with himself, letting the metalhead boss him around wasn’t the worst thing in the world. In fact, his dick seemed to like the idea a little more than Billy himself was comfortable with, and he was worried it was starting to show. His power stance might’ve wavered just slightly.

With Steve, Billy was always the one in charge. That’s just the way they both liked it…but. But maybe he’d also enjoy…not being in charge for once? Steve had seen the soft sides of him before, and he’d trust his Stevie with his life, and yet…the fucking wild stallion that was his stubbornness bucked at the idea of Steve seeing him as anything other than in charge. 

But–

But Steve wanted the weed badly.

But Munson wasn’t that ugly.

But Steve was okay with this, and Billy’s own dick was more than okay with this.

And Eddie was staring him down, still waiting for his response. Waiting for him to deny that he’d had the urge to fucking argue. Waiting for him to…submit?

Yep, he’d bet the money he didn’t have that that’s exactly what Eddie was waiting for him to do. He’d also bet that it had something to do with his own popularity bowing to the freak’s…obvious lack of that. He wanted to tell him to fuck off, wanted to growl at him to find somebody else to get off to, but.

But his legs had decided differently, apparently. Or more accurately, his fucking knees.

The next thing Billy knew, he was kneeling, sitting back on his heels, in the middle of Munson’s living room. He blinked, cause when the hell had he made the decision to do that? Fuck it, it happened. Mortified and probably beet red, but determined not to show it, he forced himself to look up at the freak, who looked shocked for a second, looked at Steve, who was still perched on the edge of the couch, and then, looking back at the boy knelt for him, stepped forward so that Billy was properly at his feet. 

Billy waited— for what, he wasn’t sure exactly. Munson looked like he was about to let out one of those signature obnoxious victory cries, probably to further humiliate him, but instead, Eddie just grinned wickedly. As Billy watched, he raised his ring-clad hand to rest briefly on top of the head of golden curls before forcing it down so that Billy was staring down at his own denim-wrapped thighs. 

Fuck. Munson wanted his head bowed too? The clear show of dominance would’ve made his cock kick in his jeans if it’d had the room to move even the slightest. As it was, he felt like it was being restricted, strangled even, and he hated the desperation it gave away. Billy wanted so badly to press the heel of his hand to the tent in his jeans, to readjust, anything really. But he had the feeling that wouldn’t go over well with the lanky metalhead towering over him.

Billy felt like he was vibrating out of his skin, fighting for air trying to anticipate Munson’s next move. But Eddie just stepped back a bit, and Billy could just barely see him gesturing towards Steve out of his periphery. He looked up just barely and watched as Eddie looked at Steve, raising his eyebrows and flicking his gaze and his hand down towards the floor where Billy was kneeling. Billy hurriedly looked back to his thighs, because apparently, he gave a shit whether or not Eddie found him in the position he’d just placed him in.

He heard Eddie snap his fingers once, and within seconds, Billy felt an arm brush his shoulder as his Stevie knelt delicately beside him. He nudged Billy’s shoulder, and Billy chanced a look at him. His brown doe-eyes were relaxed and happy; he nodded, and the tiny reassuring smile on his face was enough to make Billy feel like he could breathe again. 

It’s okay. Steve’s okay. This is okay… to feel.

Billy returned Steve’s nod and exhaled the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in. Steve smiled at him again, satisfied that he wasn’t silently freaking out, and bowed his head, resting in the same position that Eddie had placed Billy in a minute ago. The same position that Billy usually liked Steve to assume when he knelt for him. 

Steve’s comfort and familiarity with the position was evident in his limbs. He looked soft and relaxed. Pliant. Maybe not as pliant as he usually looked, Billy thought. That was reserved for Billy, and Billy alone. But comfortable enough that Billy would bet that Munson could sense their usual dynamic— if he hadn’t already picked up on it from how on guard Billy was when it came to people interacting with Steve. 

Munson stepped back forward, standing in front of them equally, and ran a hand through each of their hair. 

“Mm,” he hummed thoughtfully, tugging slightly, tilting Billy’s head up first, then Steve’s. He turned their heads gently one at a time, inspecting their faces as if they were newly acquired toys. “Such pretty boys,” Billy nearly bristled at his own phrase coming out of Eddie’s mouth, “and who knew such royalty could kneel like this? For little ol’ me? I’m blushing.”

But he wasn’t blushing, at all. 

If anything, he snarled the words, still with that smug-ass smirk that normally would’ve made Billy want to punch him, given any other scenario. His grip tightened on their hair, and Billy suppressed a groan at the sudden pleasure-pain that bloomed through his scalp. He might’ve knelt on his own accord, sort of, but he wasn’t about to truly give in that easily. Contrary to the tiny wet patch that darkened the crotch of his jeans, Billy wasn’t that fucking easy. He wasn’t.

Steve, however, was always beautifully reactive, especially to having his hair pulled. Billy knew this, and yet still, he almost choked at the sound that escaped Steve’s throat. The prettiest type of moan, light and airy almost, and so perfectly Steve.

Eddie clearly appreciated the sound as well. He chuckled darkly, drawling, “Steve Harrington. Why am I not surprised you like having your hair pulled? I always knew you were a little slut.” His gaze fell back on Billy. “See, Hargrove? Harrington here knows what he’s doing. I want you to let me hear you, got it?”

Billy nodded.

All he got in return was an eyebrow raise and a stern “answer me.”

“Yes,” Billy rasped, his throat dry.

“Yes, sir,” Eddie corrected him, with no room for argument in his tone. 

Billy shook his head. He could kneel, he could moan, but that phrase— it made his skin crawl with memories he’d rather forget. He was worried that Munson would insist, but Eddie seemed to sense that this wasn’t just Billy being defiant. He looked down at him, as Billy pleaded with his eyes. I can’t say that, I can’t say that, I can’t—

“Yes, Eddie, then. That work for you, Hargrove?” His words sounded casual, but something in his eyes was softer, like he was concerned. But, thank god, he didn’t press the issue.

Billy nodded, thanking him mentally, “Yes, Eddie.”

Munson nodded tersely, satisfied. “And for you, Harrington?”

Steve straightened just a bit, “Yes, sir?”

Munson smirked, his air of dominance returning, “Good boy. C’mere.” He motioned him forward to where he’d stepped back to give Billy space, and Steve obediently shuffled forward on his knees until his nose was just inches away from brushing against Eddie’s waistline. Billy saw Steve’s tongue dart out to wet his lips, and by his reaction, Eddie hadn’t missed it either.

“You like what you see, Stevie?” he chuckled, and Billy watched as his boyfriend leaned forward and nuzzled the bulge that tented the front of Eddie’s jeans. Billy’s breath caught in his throat. He’d been in Eddie’s position with Steve more times than he could count, and yet whenever he found himself there, he felt that same surge of protectiveness, possessiveness too, over and over again. 

But this was different. He wasn’t in Munson’s position. He should feel jealous, angry probably, and in any other situation, he probably would’ve. He would’ve pulled Steve behind him, cussed Munson (or whoever) out, and then kicked their ass just for good measure. But knowing they’d all agreed to this beforehand was making him see Steve with another man as…fucking hot.

And Steve’s whisper echoed in his mind, he’s not ugly. 

No, he’s not. Billy’s traitorous brain agreed again.

Suddenly, Billy could pinpoint this feeling that was washing over him, this urge to do something. This urge to join Steve, not to pull him away. 

Again, Billy’s body acted on its own accord, just as it had knelt before, and a whine escaped Billy’s throat. 

Billy himself was just as shocked as Steve and Eddie, who both halted their movements and turned to look at the source of the noise. Munson’s left hand stopped carding through Steve’s hair and extended towards Billy, his other hand still resting on Steve’s shoulder as if to keep him in place.

“Aw, baby,” Eddie teased. “Are you feeling left out?”

Billy nodded, blushing furiously, and mentally cursing himself for showing…weakness? No, longing. Billy Hargrove didn’t need shit, and he certainly didn’t long for anything.

But–but Eddie wasn’t scolding him, wasn’t making fun of him— not in a mean way anyway— wasn’t upset that his moment with Steve had been interrupted. In fact, he seemed pleased to hear something out of Billy.

“C’mere then, sweetheart,” Eddie’s fingers fluttered, urging him forward, but definitely letting him choose whether or not to close the gap between them. “I’m sure Stevie would be happy to share with you.”

Billy forced his knees to walk him forward, until he was once again right next to Steve, who turned to brush his nose against Billy’s cheek, a simple gesture of affection. One that clearly said, It’s okay. I love you. Do this with me.

Billy settled a bit at Steve’s reassurance, and allowed Eddie to run his ring-clad fingers through his hair, purring, “That’sa boy.” When he didn’t tense up at the touch, Munson seemed to take that as the okay to continue once more. His fingers tightened in the golden curls, and he gently forced Billy’s head to tip back until those blue eyes looked up at him expectantly.

Eddie smirked at the open look that must’ve been on his face, “You wanna take ‘em off?” he gestured towards the handcuff belt clasped around his waist, and Billy did. He wanted to so badly all of the sudden. Fucking Munson and his stupid tattoos that were definitely making him harder to resist. 

Billy nodded in response, and the metalhead cocked his stupid eyebrow, waiting. 

Oh, that’s right, Billy remembered. Out loud, he said, “Yes, Eddie.”

Eddie nodded once, smiling like Billy had said the secret password that made him open his legs, and gestured again, “Go ahead then, baby.”

Baby.

Billy’s mind was reeling a little at that. He was a lot of things, but he was rarely ever “baby.” Even to Steve. Mostly because, between the two of them, Steve was undeniably “baby.” But hearing the word drip from Eddie’s lips, he couldn’t help the pleasant tingle up his spine as he reached forward to obey.

The metal was cool against his hands as he flicked the latch to unfasten the belt. It clinked as it fell open, bouncing against Eddie’s thighs as he started on the button of his jeans. They flicked open easily, and when he looked up, Munson gave him another nod, so he tugged the denim down his thighs until the only thing keeping his cock from smacking Billy’s face was a pair of tenting plaid boxers. He tugged those down too after exactly 0.5 seconds of hesitation, and Eddie’s length sprang free.

Fuck. It was…bigger than he expected. By a lot. Shit, it really is always the fucking skinny-ass dudes that are packing. He shook off his brief stupor and prayed that Eddie didn’t catch him drooling as he dragged the fabric down to Munson’s ankles for him to step out of. He kicked it to the side and yanked his shirt off too, those fucking tattoos now on full display.

Billy swallowed hard, but he might have let out a whimper if the wicked grin on Eddie’s face was anything to go by. With a hand each laced into Billy and Steve’s hair, he dragged them both face first towards his crotch, chuckling deeply, “Let’s see what you boys got.”

His musk was overwhelming at first, but Billy couldn’t help but want more of it, instantly burying his nose into the coarse patch of hair right next to his cock. It was Steve that moaned immediately on getting his mouth on the target velvety skin. He lapped at the tip, eager for a taste of the salty bead gathering over and over again at Eddie’s slit. It was exactly what he did for Billy when allowed to. Steve loved sucking cock, and Billy had always considered himself lucky for it, but watching his partner lap up another man��s pre-cum was…really doing it for him.

Billy might’ve whined again, shuffling forward even more so that Eddie’s foot was in between his parted knees, his cock straining against the denim of his jeans. He ached to let it out, to let it rub up against Munson’s shin, anything to relieve the pressure, to gain a little much-needed friction.

But Eddie hadn’t allowed it yet.

So he parted his lips to let his tongue dangle out and dragged it along the underside of Eddie’s cock, right along that thick, sensitive vein in the middle. 

“Fuck,” Eddie moaned, and Billy instantly wanted to hear more of it. Steve, ceding to Billy as always, ducked down and angled his head to suck at Eddie’s balls, giving Billy free reign to be the cause of that sound again. 

 Eddie let out a strangled choking noise as Billy took him fully in his mouth. He wrapped his fist around the base, just as he liked for Steve to do for him (and he did for Steve), squeezing slightly, and the man above him groaned in response. Billy pulled off and spat, spreading it over the surface, before shoving him back in, and in reward, fingers scratched against his scalp.

 “Christ, Hargrove,” Munson’s head was thrown back in pleasure. “That’s it, baby. Justtt like that.”

 Steve moaned at the sound of the pleasure his boyfriend was giving away and licked a strip up Eddie’s ballsack, earning himself some attention. “Mm, Stevie— good boy, honey. C’mere,” he commanded, his fingers beckoning. Steve pulled off and shuffled forward, not wholly sure what he wanted from him, placing his chin in Eddie’s waiting hand. 

 Billy kept his steady up and down rhythm, but watched as Eddie pushed Steve’s hair back from his face almost…lovingly? and dropped his hand to the collar of Steve’s clothes. He tugged gently, murmuring, “Off with it.” 

 “Yes sir,” Steve scrambled to obey his quiet demand. He yanked his shirt off and his shoes too. His jeans followed until Billy’s pretty boy was in nothing but his underwear.

 Eddie pulled Billy off his dick by his hair and turned him fully to watch as he said to Steve with a predatory grin, “Lose those too, Harrington.”

 Steve’s eyes flicked to Billy for a second, as if double, triple-checking that Billy was still okay with it. Billy gave him a tiny nod, all that Eddie’s grip would allow, and he swore he saw Steve suppressing a tiny smile as he wiggled out of the fabric. Steve’s dick stood at attention as he looked expectantly up at Eddie, awaiting further instructions.

 “Perfect,” Eddie praised him, and Steve preened under his gaze. “Your turn now, baby. Everything off while your pretty boyfriend sucks my cock for you.”

 Billy groaned out a feeble “Yes, Eddie” as he watched Steve take him in his mouth. Billy shucked off his shirt and boots, listening to the obscene, yet familiar, sound of Steve taking cock down his throat. By the time Billy sat back to tug off his skin tight jeans, Steve was gagging around Munson, his nose pressed into that dark patch of hair that Billy’d found so alluring. 

 Eddie threw his head back with a loud groan as Steve probably pulled one of those mind-blowingly good moves with his tongue that never failed to make Billy’s nuts seize up. He pulled Steve off of his cock by the roots of his ruffled hair and stepped backwards with a breathy, incredulous laugh, “Jesus, Stevie. Who taught you how to suck cock like that?” He made his way to the couch, leaving Billy’s pretty boy on his knees, and plopped down as dramatically as if Steve himself had pushed him.

 Billy couldn’t help it. He snorted and then failed to wipe the subsequent smirk off his face fast enough. Munson’s eyes flicked to where he still knelt on the floor.

 “That funny to you, Hargrove?”

 “Yes, Eddie.”

 “Huh. Well, tell you what. Down that hallway–” he tipped his head onto the back of the couch, eyes closed, and gestured off to Billy’s left “–there’s a bottle of lube on the bedside table. Be a good boy, and fetch it for me, hm?”

 Billy’s cheeks flushed at that last sentence. Much as Steve’s always did when Billy collared and leashed him. He’d never admit it, but he saw the appeal. He fucking got it. That particular phrasing Munson had used on him, like he was a dog… he got it now. It was like the burning in his cheeks went straight to his cock, which kicked like Eddie had tied a string to it and pulled. Thank God his eyes were still closed, waiting for Billy’s response.

 “Yes, Eddie,” he began standing when Munson opened his eyes and called for Steve as Billy made his way down the hall into what he assumed was Eddie’s bedroom. He heard Eddie pat his thigh and tell Steve to straddle him, and Billy knew Steve had done just that when he heard them both groan softly.

 The room was entirely a mess, shit everywhere, like someone (a tornado) had gone digging through a dresser. But Billy was uninterested. The bottle of lube sat on the table by the bed, and he snatched it, before heading back down the hall. 

Immediately, he was met with the sight of Steve in Eddie’s lap, back hunching, as he ground his length against Eddie’s. Those ring-covered hands sat lightly on the skin above Steve’s pale hip bones, stabilizing him as Steve panted, open-mouthed, their sticky foreheads almost touching as he stared down to where their cocks met.

 Billy went to bite back a moan as he reentered the room, but remembering Munson’s order from before, he allowed himself the noise. Eddie looked up from watching Steve grind on him with a cocky grin, licking his lips before gesturing for Billy to come stand behind Steve. 

 All it took was Billy’s touch on his boyfriend’s shoulders for Steve to groan “Billy–” and lean back until his cool, sweaty back was pressed against Billy’s front. He tipped his head back to find Billy with the biggest bambi eyes, the kind he got when he was begging Billy to let him come, “Look– fuck– so close alreadyy,” he whined out, gasping.

 Billy’s hands went automatically to Steve’s chest, fingers immediately finding and toying with his boy’s pebbled nipples, if only to hear him moan louder. His hands pawed at Billy’s forearms as Billy hummed in answer to Steve’s babbling, “Oh, I know, baby. I see, poor, sweet thing. So hard for Eddie an’ me, aren’t ya? Tell him, baby. Ask nicely now.”

 “Eddie,” he hiccuped, hips still bucking, constantly seeking his dealer’s touch, “Sir, getting close! Please, I need–”

 “Hargrove’s cock?” Munson suggested. Steve moaned his agreement instantly, and Billy’s cock concurred, probably leaving a wet smear down Steve’s back even as Munson’s grip on his hips tightened, restricting Steve’s movement and successfully gaining the brunette’s attention back. “How’s this, sweetheart? Hargove’s gonna kneel and open you up nice and pretty. And then, he’s gonna fuck you, and you’re gonna finish sucking me off, m’kay?”

 Steve nodded frantically, earnestly, “Yes, sir, yes, please.”

 “Good boy,” Munson smiled at him, probably just as unable to resist that gaze as Billy was, and gently bumped Steve’s jawline with the back of two fingers– tender, but so quick that Steve didn’t even have the time to lean into him. “Now, baby, you got that lube, right?” Billy nodded. “So perfect for me, Billy,” Eddie snapped his fingers once, pointing down, and Billy dropped to his knees instantly, his chest now about level with Steve’s pretty ass. 

 Munson opened his legs a little further, forcing the boy on his lap to spread a bit for Billy. He pursed his lips and blew cool air gently onto Steve’s winking hole, eliciting a quiet whimper from him. Eddie shushed him gently and pulled him forward, granting Billy even better access and also simultaneously distracting Steve with kisses pressed to his jaw and neck. Billy snapped open the lube as his pretty boy writhed happily in Eddie’s lap and drizzled a good amount onto his fingers. He murmured, “Gonna be cold, baby,” and began circling Steve’s rim, even as the boy wriggled impatiently.

 Steve hissed at the coolness of the gel, but recovered quickly, hips swiveling as if trying to capture Billy’s finger where he wanted it most. At the first press against his entrance, Steve let out a loud moan, eyes closed, his head dropping down towards his chest. This was apparently unacceptable to Eddie, who grabbed Steve’s jaw and lightly shook once, until Steve’s eyes blinked back open, still hazy with pleasure. “Eyes on me, baby,” Eddie commanded. “I wanna watch your face as he opens you up.”

 “Yes, sir,” Steve panted, already out of breath just from Billy’s single touch. Billy pushed his finger in up to the knuckle, and Steve keened, keeping eye contact with Eddie as requested, even as his mouth fell open.

 “That’s it, Hargrove. Give our Stevie what he wants now,” Munson said. Billy took that as a demand to finish prepping him and began to move his finger until Steve’s body relaxed enough for him to add another, and then a third. By the time Billy had three fingers buried in Steve, his pretty boy was almost in tears. Billy could hear it in his voice when he begged Eddie, “Please? Ready now– Want it… please.”

 “Good boy, baby. Ready to let me watch you take Hargrove’s cock up that pretty ass of yours?” Eddie punctuated his question with a slap to the pretty ass in question, and Steve gasped out a wet “Yes, sir.”

 Munson smiled that wicked grin again, but took Steve’s hands with a surprising gentleness. “Alright then, I want you kneeling between my legs, so I can fuck your face while Billy fucks your ass, good?”

 Steve nodded eagerly, and Eddie helped him into position, before leaning back into the couch cushions, smirking, “Okay, Hargrove. Time to impress us,” waving his hand in a “please proceed” gesture that made Billy want to roll his eyes before thinking better of it. 

 Billy turned his attention back to Steve, and for a moment, as he rested his forehead on Steve’s shoulder and his hands on Steve’s waist, it was just them two. The moment was grounding, and any remaining nerves that might’ve been lingering melted away. One hand dragged up Steve’s torso and came to rest on the delicate skin in between his shoulder blades. Billy pressed forward, bending him over slightly, and Eddie groaned as Steve breath brushed over his cock. Steve went willingly, even arching his back to give Billy better access, and Billy’s cock jumped at the sight of his glistening entrance.

 Steve’s hips bucked slightly in anticipation as Billy flicked open the cap on the lube and slicked Steve and himself up. His thumb spread Steve open even more as he lined up and began to press in slowly, giving his boy plenty of time to adjust.

 That didn’t stop Steve from gasping out “God, Billy!” even though Billy was less than halfway in. Eddie cradled Steve’s face in his hands as he panted, soothing him and murmuring, “That’s a good boy, baby. Look at you taking him so well, hm?” 

Billy was willing to bet there were tears in Steve’s eyes, if not already spilling down his cheeks, and Eddie waited until Billy was fully inside of him before guiding Steve’s head down toward his aching and swollen dick. He pressed his thumb down gently on Steve’s lower lip until his mouth dropped open, and Eddie slipped himself inside. Steve had always done well with something in his mouth to occupy him, so Billy wasn’t surprised when he immediately began to suck and moan around Munson’s length.

Munson looked at Billy over Steve and smirked, “Let’s see what you got, Hargrove.”

Billy obeyed instantly. Something about another man telling him how to fuck his own boyfriend shouldn’t have been doing what it was doing to him, but then again, really Steve shouldn’t be sucking off Billy’s dealer, and Billy found that hot too, so it was probably too late for redemption. At Billy’s first thrust, Steve choked around Eddie, who moaned, head dropping backwards. Billy pulled back and thrusted again, forcing Steve further onto Munson’s cock. A steady rhythm caused a cacophony of obscene noises from both Steve and Eddie. If Steve was any less good with his mouth, Billy might’ve been concerned with how much he was gagging around Eddie, but if there was anything Steve could do better than anyone Billy had ever met, it was suck cock, and Eddie seemed to love every contraction of Steve’s throat around him.

As Steve began to get tighter around Billy and closer to his own completion, Billy wondered if he’d have to revert to his old trick of naming basketball players in his head to prevent himself from busting a nut too soon. As if Steve himself wasn't enough to make Billy come (he was), this entire scene had Billy hurtling towards the edge faster than he had during puberty.

Billy gritted his teeth and screwed his eyes shut as he pumped into Steve’s wet heat. Someone was moaning and grunting, and he realized it was himself. Eddie’s eyes bored into him with surprising clarity, considering Steve was practically fucking his own mouth on Munson’s dick, “Hargrove, you better not fucking come until I say. Understand me?”

Billy groaned because holy fuck, that tone was not helping him hold off his orgasm, but he forced himself to choke out “Yes. Eddie.”

“That’s right, baby. You like being told what to do, I know. You’re lucky I’m even letting you come with that attitude you had with me earlier. Showing up at my door, demanding shit from me. Who’s demanding shit now, hm?”

Billy thought he was just taunting him, demeaning him, but Munson stared at him until he said, “You, Eddie.”

“Mmm, good, baby,” Eddie was thrusting his hips up into Steve’s mouth now, timing it with Billy’s own hips pounding into Steve from behind. “Always knew you could be tamed, Hargrove. Should’ve known it’d have to be me to do it.”

Steve screwed up tight around Billy at Eddie’s words, and Billy knew it was the casual dominance that was getting to him, and he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t affecting him the same way. He was certain now he’d have to come soon, like within the next couple minutes, and he was determined to get Steve there first. He angled himself just right, finding Steve’s prostate in the first few thrusts. Steve jerked violently, and Billy couldn't help but smirk, despite his own disheveled state. The reaction he got from hitting his boy’s prostate was one of his favorite things in the world. Even Eddie groaned, running his fingers through Steve’s hair as Steve bore down, aimed at getting Eddie off, like now.

Several more thrusts and Steve started trembling, high pitched moans escaping around Eddie’s cock. 

“Eddie,” Billy panted, “he’s getting close.” 

Eddie pulled on Steve’s hair just enough to look him in the eyes. He spoke to Billy though when he said “Me too. Can he come untouched?”

Steve’s eyes rolled back, probably over being talked about like he wasn’t even there, and Billy nodded, “He can. And will,” he panted through the effort of keeping his rhythm steady, “if I keep nailing his prostate.”

Eddie nodded, “Do it. Once he makes me come, he can, and once he comes, I’ll let you.”

“Yes, Eddie,” Billy looked down at Steve’s sweaty back and messy hair and focused on hitting that precise spot that made Steve shake. Steve doubled down too, taking Eddie deep and pumping him with his hand. 

Eddie let out an “Oh, fuck” at Steve’s efforts. “That’s right, baby. You’re gonna make me– I’m gonna come down King Steve’s throat, shit. Just like that, Stevie.” His hips bucked wildly, and his rhythm began to falter. Steve moaned around him, and Eddie pushed his head down and shuddered with a deep groan, spilling into his mouth. Steve whined and eagerly swallowed down everything Munson had to give him as big, hot tears rolled down his cheeks.

Eddie stilled, breathing hard still, wiped the tears from Steve’s cheeks, and asked him, “You ready to come now, sweet thing?” Steve nodded and sobbed in relief, “Yes, sir.”

Eddie nodded at Billy, who picked back up from where he’d slowed down to watch Munson come in his boy’s mouth. Within half a minute, Steve was already blubbering and begging to come, his mouth finally not occupied. Steve was usually loud in bed, but he must've really been desperate now, because Billy had hardly ever seen him so frantic. 

Maybe out of habit, Steve looked over his shoulder, and directed his question towards Billy, crying “Please, daddy— I needa,” he gasped for air, “I need to come now, can I? Please?”

Billy grabbed his face and kissed him for being such a good boy, but nodded at Eddie, “You know who to ask, baby.”

Eddie watched their interaction almost in awe, and when Steve looked at him with tearful, pleading eyes, he caved instantly, “Yes, sweetheart, you’ve done so well. Come for Billy and me now.”

Steve obeyed instantly, falling forward into Eddie's lap and painting the front of his couch with white. Billy groaned as he watched his baby fall apart on his cock, and it was everything he could do to stop himself from coming right that second. Luckily, he didn’t have to wait long before Eddie looked at him with dark eyes.

“Your turn, baby. Come now, Billy.”

Something overwhelmed Billy in that moment, whether it was Steve still trembling on him, or Eddie saying his name like that, or both. He thrusted deep into Steve and shattered, one or both of their names falling off his lips. He collapsed onto Steve’s back, pressing his face into Steve’s skin, suddenly utterly exhausted.

“Such good boys,” Eddie whispered to them both, like he was afraid of startling them. “You both did so good for me. I guess, you’ve earned a reward then,” he sighed, satisfied. 

Eddie let them sit for a minute to come down from their highs and then murmured, “Come sit up here on the couch,” patting the cushion next to him. Billy’s legs felt wobbly, but he managed to get himself and Steve up off the floor and onto the couch. Once they were settled more or less, Eddie said, “Be right back,” and disappeared down the hallway.

Billy looked down at Steve laying on his chest, eyes closed, but he wasn’t asleep. At least, not yet anyway. Billy pushed the usually-perfect hair off his boy’s forehead and placed a soft kiss where it had been. Steve's lips quirked up in a soft smile, and Billy sighed into Steve’s hair.

Before long, Eddie waltzed back into the room, cleaned up and wearing just his boxers. He grabbed his lunch box from where he’d left it and sat next to them on the couch. He handed Billy a warm washcloth. “Can’t let you go home sticky, not after that.” He smiled a genuine smile this time, not the mischievous smirk Billy’d seen before.

“Thanks,” Billy muttered. He cleaned Steve off and then himself, not sure if he was feeling comfortable or not, considering he and Steve were still butt-ass naked in Munson’s living room. When he was finished, he handed Steve his clothes and got dressed as well. While they were doing so, Eddie had portioned a more than generous amount of weed out for them. More than Billy was hoping for in the first place.

He handed it over with a simple “You earned it.” Billy nodded his thanks and pocketed the plastic baggie. He grabbed Steve’s hand and turned to go.

“Bye, Eddie,” Steve said softly as Billy led him to the door.

“See ya around, Stevie.”

a/n: again thank you so much for reading! and please consider leaving me a comment and reblogging. it helps so much!! tagging some people i think might be interested! <3

@lovebillyhargrove @dragonflylady77 @shieldofiron

Forevers: @hintsofhoney  @deanwanddamons @katelyn--renee @lassie-bird @jensengirl83 @superfanficnatural @wayward-dreamer @that-one-gay-girl @writercole @flamencodiva @elenavampire21

Harringrove: @rosecentury @elenavampire21 @safi03

[wayward-dreamer]

Old Flame

Part 2 to New Blood

Square/s filled: "is that right?" @anyfandomkinkbingo (prompt in bold)|

Pairing: Soldier Boy x F!Supe!Reader

Word count: 5,229

Summary: Y/N never expected that a knock at her door late at night would result in a reunion with Soldier Boy, someone she long thought to be dead. The meeting gets off to a rocky start, but when certain truths come to light, some unexpected feelings come along with them.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, smut: dirty talk, unprotected sex (wrap it up people), I think that's it lol

A/N: I'm so excited to finally bring this to you guys! I just realised I posted the first part a year ago, so it's about time lol... beta'd my loves @hintsofhoney and @makeadealwithdean

Get the job done.

In all his tenure as Soldier Boy, that’s what he had learnt and kept faith in. He had tried to instill that in his team continuously for so long, but along the way he lost his grip on them, enough that they had taken action against him and given him up to the Russians.

The only credit he could give them was that he never saw it coming. Noir was always crafty that way, which was why he had no doubt Stan Edgar had put him up to it.

The last few days had been a complete whirlwind.

He had been released from a chamber in Russia, confronted by the modern world, burned Countess and the Twins to a crisp, all while running with two guys propositioning him to kill the “new” him, Homelander. Who he found out was his son, right before he caved Mindstorm’s face in with his shield. They were still on the search for Noir, but they were close. He had conflicting feelings about Homelander given the revelations, but if he was prepared to do what needs to be done.

He sipped his whiskey, reclined in the wrinkled leather armchair of The Legend’s office in his home upstate. He continued this nightly routine, contemplating the old days compared to this new world he had found himself in. He recalled the golden years, the nights of endless parties, alcohol, drugs, beautiful women, being in the pocket of so many of Hollywood’s elite and notable political figures. He remembered the Vought events, Herogasm in its prime and not the pathetic mess he had witnessed days ago. He thought back to those last few weeks before they left for Nicaragua, that shareholders party that ended up being his last. The night he met Y/N. Ember.

“Everyone knows Noir’s the only valuable player for Vought. The rest of you… you’re gonna end up C-listers, with crummy deals at amusement parks and running Herogasm into the fucking ground.”

He scoffed as he sipped the amber liquid. She had been right, of course. That was exactly what happened, and she had the foresight about Payback’s fate before any of them did. She may have tried to push his buttons, but he couldn’t help but let his mind wander to the result of it. The sex was pretty fucking great; no matter how much he hated her attitude, he had to admit that fact.

“And as for you…You know they’re all just humoring you, right? Countess, the twins. I mean fuck, even Edgar just gives you shit to do so he doesn’t actually have to deal with you. He’s probably got a replacement lined up for you already.”

Just as the memories of her body against his plagued him, her words echoed in his head once more. Words that had broken his last resolve, that had him pushing her against the wall, that had fuelled their rageful lust for each other. Slowly, he stood up from the chair, replaying them in his mind. Yet again, she had prophesied something that he wouldn’t know the truth about until now.

So how the fuck did she know? She may not have been part of the team back then, but she sure as fuck knew something. Did she have something to do with the plot to get rid of him, too? Did she and Noir make the plan together?

She had voiced her desire to join Payback, going as far as telling him she’d talk to Stan after they had fucked and broken several pieces of furniture in his penthouse apartment.

He needed to know where she was so he could pay her a little visit like he had with the rest of his team.

-x-

Y/N settled in for the evening, laid back against the couch with a glass of whiskey on the coffee table and a joint resting in the ashtray next to it. The light of the television flashed against her face as some shitty daytime show was almost finished, ready to give way to the 6pm news. She had briefly seen something about an explosion in Midtown Manhattan a few days ago, followed by another in Montpelier, Vermont, but she didn’t pay much attention to it.

Sliding down against the cushions as the headlines started, she reached for the joint and brought it to her lips, clicking her fingers and lighting the end of it from the small flame. She inhaled, blowing out a large puff of smoke as she drew her knees up. With one hand, she reached for her foot and rubbed her thumb along her toes, firmly. She grimaced at the dull ache that had developed over the years, before stretching her leg out and hearing her bones click loudly. One of the many things Vought took from her; her physicality. She may not have aged a day thanks to the Compound V, but that didn’t mean the years of service to that fucked up place hadn’t taken a toll on her.

Taking another pull from the joint, Y/N glanced at the TV as a new headline came up. Her eyes narrowed in confusion as old images of Soldier Boy flashed across the screen, with the words SOLDIER BOY ALIVE? appeared over them. She jolted up from the couch, reaching for the remote and pressing hard on the volume button, making it louder than it had been. An instagram video with the supe she recognized as Starlight came after the pictures, her words ringing in Y/N’s ears.

“It’s been five days, and still nothing but lies from Vought. Soldier Boy is still out there, and Maeve is still missing, and you know what? More people are just going to die before they admit to what’s going on.”

Her eyes widened as the report continued, piecing the last few days and events together.

“As you heard Starlight there, it’s been five days since the events in Montpelier, Vermont where seven supes were killed, and several more injured. This comes a few days after the explosion in Midtown, with the prime suspect being Soldier Boy, Vought’s most respected supe. Long thought dead for the last 3 decades, which now leads us to believe: what has else Vought been hiding? Stay tuned-”

Y/N shut the TV off, the house eerily silent. She breathed heavily as she tried to understand what was happening. Was he really alive? After all this time? Had he really killed all those people? In an explosion no less. She knew his violent nature but was he really capable of something like this? Midtown was close to The Legend’s penthouse. Had Ben gone after him too?

While the reality of lives lost made her blood boil, the only thing that made her happy was the thought that Vought was probably running around with their heads cut off trying to fix this mess. She’d love to be in that building again and witness it, but she had never been so glad to be out of that life.

She knew that if there were casualties in Vermont, then it was definitely at Herogasm. The TNT twins were no doubt a part of those numbers, which meant Ben was going after all of the team. She had lost contact with Countess decades ago, which was she relieved about considering everything she and the rest of the team had put her through. Y/N had left Payback almost thirty years ago; crime fighting nearly twenty years ago, and she had never looked back. She had refused appearances at Godolkin and any Vought events over the years, and when they finally stopped reaching out she felt free of their hold on her.

There was no word on Countess, the twins were most likely dead; The Legend too, probably. That meant Noir and Mindstorm were next, and then Ben would no doubt be coming for her. If he was alive, then he had clearly learnt of her appointment to Payback, something they had argued over that fateful night, even if it did result in really great sex.

She stood up from the couch and rushed into her bedroom, knowing there was only one thing she could do at that moment. She needed to leave before he found her.

She pulled out her small suitcase, dumped it on the bed and began filling it with whatever she needed for a few days at least. That news report had put the fear of every God into her and she knew that she needed to pack quickly. She had never met Starlight, but after hearing who was responsible… she knew something was up even if she didn’t want to believe it. He couldn’t be alive. Not after all this time.

She couldn’t take any chances of him finding her and killing her too. Especially after that night, in his penthouse at the old Vought American building, when she said all those horrible things to him. Things that she had regretted the moment she found out he was gone in that nuclear blast. Was that how he was alive now and had managed to wipe out nearly everyone at Herogasm?

She pondered everything in her mind, shaking her head as the thoughts continued in a reel, continuing to put her things together as she moved on auto-pilot. She zipped up the bag, grabbed her passport from one of the drawers in her dresser and shoved it into her handbag. The Legend lived close by, and she just hoped and prayed that he wasn’t dead already. She needed his help to make her disappear for a while, because he was the only one she still trusted. She pushed the clothes in her closet to either side of the rack, reaching forward to the safe in the wall. Turning the dial a few times, it clicked open from the right combination and allowed her to take out a few bundles of cash that she had.

Just as she decided to change into jeans and t-shirt from her nightie and robe, a sudden knock on the door broke through the silence, stunting her in place. She felt a shiver run down her back as the ominous quiet stretched on. Slowly, she wrapped her robe around her body and tied it, walking out of her room. She stared at the front door, wondering if she just imagined it. Another knock sounded on the solid wood, and she flinched, gasping softly. Shaking her head, she rolled her shoulders as she straightened up, psyching herself up as she took leisured steps towards the entrance. She lightly wiggled her fingers to make small embers light up the tips, just as she reached for the doorknob. She twisted it slowly, opening the door wide to see no one there on her porch.

“What the fuck?” she whispered, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Just as her hand reached for the porch light switch next to the frame, her eyes widened at the familiar face they stepped in front of her, paralyzing her in her place. It was the face of a ghost, or at least, he should’ve been. She staggered back as heavy footfalls moved slowly towards her, his green eyes staring into hers as his face remained stoic, the door hinges creaking as he shut the door behind him.

“Ben,” she gulped, squaring her shoulders as she stood her ground. She wasn’t going to let him intimidate her. “H-How are you alive?”

His blank facial expression gave way to a slow, sinister smirk. “Well you and the team handing me to the fucking Reds didn’t work out the way you planned.”

She frowned, shaking her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

In one swift motion, Soldier Boy’s hand wrapped around her neck, turning her around and slamming her against the wall. She gasped as his fingers curled over her throat, her body trapped by his shield pressed against her. She tried to push it away with her free hands, but his strength was too much for her.

“Don’t lie to me,” he snarled, glaring down at her. “I could snap this little neck like a fucking toothpick and you know it, sugar.”

“I-I’m not,” she choked, slapping at his arm.

“You seemed pretty confident about what was gonna happen to all of them,” he recalled, squeezing harder on her neck. “Countess, the twins. So you’re gonna tell me the fucking truth.”

“Or what? You’re really gonna kill me like you did the others?” she gulped around her words.

“Depends on your fucking answer,” he replied.

Her lungs burned as took a harsh breath once he released his hold on her. Her chest heaved as she looked up at him, still trapped between the wall and his shield. Her eyes darkened with rage, her jaw clenching as her nostrils flared the longer they remained in defiant silence. With the little strength she could muster, she raised her arms and pushed against his chest, pushing him back a few paces. His shield slipped out of his grip as he braced himself, his upper lip twitching as he glared at her. Her hands glowed with tiny embers that grew as she stepped towards him.

“Anything I say isn’t gonna matter to you,” she stated, wiggling her fingers around and causing small flames to ignite her palms.

“It all fucking happened, Y/N,” he husked, his stance changing into fight mode as glanced between her face and her hands. “Exactly the way you said. I mean, fuck, they probably replaced me with fucking Homelander - my son - because you told them to!”

“S-Son?” she stuttered, her eyes widening.

He chuckled, smugly. “Come on, doll. It’s hard to believe you had nothing to do with any of this. So what was it, huh? Getting rid of me as some kind of initiation from Noir and the rest of them? You were the final fucking puzzle piece in his plan?”

Y/N shook her head as her fingers tightened into fists, and before she realized her actions, she lifted the right and punched him across the face. The flesh of cheek singed by the embers healed quickly as he looked back at her, grabbing her by her arms and flinging her aside. Her back hit the wall hard, photo frames from the mantel above the fireplace falling off and shattering on the floor. She rolled her shoulders as pushed off the wall, some of the drywall stuck to the back of her silky robe. She tried to strike him again, but as he ducked away, he gripped her waist and turned her around, caging her in by his strong arms. She elbowed him but he didn’t budge; a complete wall of immovable muscle against her. She reached back, her fingers scraping against his cheek, a painful grunt escaping him as she burned his skin long enough for him to let go of her.

“Bitch,” he growled.

Soldier Boy wiped his fingers along his face, the flesh reforming before any blood was drawn. He moved towards her, but she bent down and quickly pulled the blade from his holster, coming back up as she flicked the blade around, slicing his palm through his glove. Once again he was unaffected as gripped her wrist, forcing her backwards and slamming her into the wall. She shrieked as her head hit the hard surface, the sound growing more desperate as she tried to free her hand from his hold. The deja vu of the whole situation wasn’t lost on either of them, as they found themselves in a similar position as that night, but she wasn’t going to let that distract her. As his other hand moved over her throat again, he hit her fist against the wall in an effort to get her to drop the knife. Just as the grip fell from her fingertips and before he could get the upper hand once more, she grabbed him by his kevlar vest, kneeing him in the stomach as hard as she could with her waning strength. A grunt, more of surprise than pain left him as he let go of her, slightly hunched as he collected himself.

“I got the gig 6 weeks after you were gone,” she blurted out. Before this escalated more than it already had, she was going to tell him what really happened.

He glared at her, straightening up slowly. “What?”

“Whenever you were taken… I only got into the team once Vought handled that whole situation,” she added, trying to catch her breath as she moved towards him, slowly. “Which they did a fucking piss poor job of considering I never believed for a second you were dead in a nuclear explosion.”

With a heavy exhale he watched her carefully, looking for any tells that she was lying. She knew exactly what he was trying to do, from the way his shoulders tensed and his eyes narrowed. She shook her head, scoffing as mentally told herself to “fuck it” because if she had to die defending herself, then so be it. At least she’d go out with some integrity.

“I had nothing to do with the plot to hand you over, okay? I didn’t know about Noir’s plan!” she exclaimed, stepping closer to him. “Though, if you ask me, those orders probably came from Stan ‘cause he’s the only one smart and sneaky enough to think of it. So no, it wasn’t an initiation. Trust me, that process was far worse.”

A bitter chuckle fell from her lips as she met his eyes again. His eyebrows furrowed, taking her in properly for the first time since he stepped into her house. Apart from the lines around her eyes she looked exactly the same, but something behind her eyes told him she wasn’t the pistol of a woman he had a fiery twenty minutes with all those years ago. He wasn’t about to ask her, because fuck feelings and all that gooey shit, but considering his own experiences in that Russian lab he realized he wasn’t the only tortured one in the room.

Y/N couldn’t decipher his silence. The longer he didn’t say a word, the angrier she got and that was dangerous in that precarious moment. She couldn’t stop herself, however, so before she realized what she was doing, she pushed him. It didn’t matter to her that he was a brick wall, her rage was consuming her and it needed to be unleashed in any way she could find. She hated to be called a liar, and there was no way he was going to get away with it. 

“No matter how much anyone asked for the truth about you it was always the same fucking answer!” she yelled, shoving him again. “The same lies they sold to the public were the same ones they gave us!”

Another push.

“Y/N-”

He stepped back, trying to move out of her way as he reached for her hands, but she was quick as they pressed into his chest again and forced him back, harder this time. 

“So, no! I had no fucking idea that you got taken by the Russians! No fucking idea the team did that to you! I joined Payback to look after my family, not to get rid of you!”

She jostled him again, her palms suddenly engulfed with large embers as she reached up and slapped him across the face. A pained groan escaped him this time, but as he tried to recover she used her other hand across the other side of his face. The skin singed before it healed quickly, but she kept coming at him, kept slapping and shoving, her teeth gritting as she screamed at him. He grunted as he reached for her, his fists closing tight around her wrists as she tried to pull out his grip, scowling at him as her fingers blazed.

“Y/N, stop!” he roared, his gaze far more menacing than hers.

But she didn’t back down. It was too late now.

“I asked about you, you son of a bitch! I tried to find out where you were! You wanted the truth? There it is!”

Her continuous attempt to free herself from his grasp failed, groaning in frustration as she tried to move away, but there was no use.

“Let me go,” she hissed, glaring up at him.

His hands tightened around her wrists causing her to gasp in pain.

“L-Let me fucking go and get the fuck out of my house!”

Soldier Boy remained stoic as she struggled, his heated gaze on her causing her stop. Their eyes locked on each other, and for the first time since he stepped through the door Y/N saw something else behind the intensity of his green orbs. What it was, she wasn’t sure and he probably had no idea what he was feeling either, but before she could understand what was happening, he dropped her wrists and roughly cupped her face as his lips fused with hers. A surprised moan escaped her as he grabbed her so quickly, but her hands instantly moved into his hair, pushing herself up on her tip-toes to get closer to him.

There was nothing gentle about the embrace. Their lips moved harshly against each other’s as her frenzied grasp tugged at his vest. She pulled away, gasping for air as she made quick work of opening the buckles and pushing the kevlar up, allowing him to pull it over his head and throw it aside. He pulled her close as they met in another frantic kiss, stumbling towards the living area as they dodged furniture. He reached for the tie on her silk robe, pulling it free and practically tearing off her before she tossed it somewhere in the room, stripping her of the short silk nightie she had been wearing just as fast. The back of her calf hit the corner of the coffee table, causing her to lose balance as she hit the floor, pulling him down on top of her. Luckily the thick rug softened the fall, but neither of them noticed as he stared down at her, completely naked in front of his still-clothed frame. Her frenetic grasp on his suit as she yanked at the gathered collar and pulled the zip down caused an amused expression to grace his features.

“Someone’s fucking eager,” he chuckled.

She scoffed, hastily sitting up and pushing the sleeves down his biceps before reaching for his pants. “Please, your dick just happens to be the only one in the vicinity.”

“Is that right?” he asked, briefly halting her urgency as he held her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “‘Cause if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you got a thing for me, doll.”

“You kissed me first,” she retorted, one eyebrow cocked as she looked up at him, her fingers deftly unzipping his pants. “What’s that say about you?”

“That I’m the one in charge,” he husked, taking her hands in his and pinning her down on the rug once more.

“Then shut up and fuck me,” she smirked.

He grinned as his face hovered above hers, breath mingling as their lips were inches apart. Without wasting any more time, he tugged the waistband of his pants down and took hold of his cock, hard and pulsing in his hand. He lined himself up to her entrance, and in one swift tilt of his hips, he was sheathed by her walls. Her mouth fell open at the familiar stretch, her eyes squeezing shut as she moaned loudly. She grabbed onto his broad, muscular shoulders, pulling him as close as their bodies could press together. He set a brutal pace to his thrusts, his pelvis smacking against her as she wrapped her legs around him, the heels of her feet resting under the curve of his ass. The threads of the carpet under her scraped her back, but she couldn’t have cared less at that point. Everything about that moment felt the same as all those years ago, and yet, completely different.

His touch was as harsh as before and so was the way he pounded into her. Something lingered under the surface, however, something that was unfamiliar to her and that she had never experienced with any of the men she had slept with. Just as she had with the others, she pushed it aside and tugged the hair at the back of his head, their lips fused together in a rough kiss.

“Fuck,” he husked, his mouth brushing against hers. “So fucking tight for me…”

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up and fuck me?” she taunted.

He glared down at her, taking in the rapid rise and fall of her chest. “What? This isn’t enough for you?”

“Looks like you’re fucking out of practice, old man,” she snickered.

The scornful laugh died quickly as he took her words as a challenge, slamming into her even harder. The shrieking moan that ripped from her throat had her regretting her words, her eyes closing as stars appeared behind them. Her grip on his shoulders tightened, the pads of her fingers digging into his skin as her nails left crescent marks behind.

It was his turn to mock her, chuckling as he stared down at her. “That’s what I fucking thought… only way to put bratty sluts like you in their place.”

She cried out, half in rage at what he called her and the other half ashamed that it had an effect on her, her walls clenching around him as she felt the familiar heat in her core. She hadn’t felt like this in a long time, well… since the last time she was with him. She tried not to think about how pathetic that was.

“Shit,” she hissed, pressing her lips together.

“Suddenly speechless,” he smirked.

“Fuck you.”

A boisterous laugh left him as he continued to move within her, his hips unrelenting. Her fingers squeezed down harder on his skin, the embers that appeared under them beginning to burn his flesh. He broke eye contact with her as his head dropped down, his shoulders heaving under her painful touch. He closed his eyes, squeezing them as his hips began to falter, causing her to frown. It was unexpected, and she had no idea what was happening to him, especially as a pool of light glowed on his chest.

“Ben…” she whispered, her hands instantly cupping his face and forcing him to look at her.

Just as the light scorches dissipated on his skin as it healed, so did the strange light that looked as if it would erupt from his chest. She gazed up at him, watching as his eyes finally focused on hers.

“What the fuck was-”

He cut the question off as he kissed her hard, his thrusts picking up pace once more. She moaned into his mouth, the confusion as to what had just happened disappearing as he pushed her towards her release. Her walls tightened around him, the intense sensation in her core too much of her to take.

“Fucking cum, Y/N,” he breathed against her lips, his gaze locked on hers. “Be a good girl and cum for me…”

A loud whimper left her as she threw her head back, her hands moving up the back of his neck and into his hair, gripping the locks between her fingers. Her eyes closed tightly as her vision turned white behind them, just as the coil snapped and she felt her wetness cover his cock. His own release came just a few seconds later, a deep growl escaping him as he dropped his head down, his seed coating her walls.

They breathed heavily as they came down from their euphoric high, but it didn’t last long as Ben pulled out of her, sitting on the floor and leaning back against the couch. Y/N sat up, reaching for her robe and pulling it on, tying it around her. The silence was awkward and she wasn’t sure how to break it as she heard him reaching for her lighter and the joint she hadn’t finished. He lit it again, bringing it to his pouty lips and taking a long pull.

“So… when did you find out about Homelander being your son?” she asked, not knowing if that was the best way to start but it was better than addressing what happened just a couple of minutes ago.

“A few days ago,” he replied, the smoke blowing out between his words. “Long story.”

She nodded, unsure of what to say next.

“Ben, what happened-”

“We’re not fucking talking about it, doll,” he snarled, pinning her with an intense glare. “Mention it and I can slit that little throat of yours so fast.”

“I’d like to see you try,” she challenged.

She shifted closer to him, her neck craned back, taunting him. She looked at him with hooded lids, biting her lip to keep her from cackling in his face. She plucked the joint from between his fingers and brought it to her mouth, taking a drag. She dropped her head to meet his gaze, blowing the puff of smoke out directly into his face. She knew she was pushing it, but she also knew he was all talk. When it came to her; if he really wanted to cause her harm he would’ve done it that night.

“Don’t you have another Payback member to kill?” she asked, nonchalant.

His jaw clenched the longer he sat in front of her and saw that she wasn’t giving him the satisfaction he would’ve had if she was scared. He stood up quickly, finding his suit around the room and putting each piece back on. As he picked his shield and walked to the door, she followed behind him, a mischievous grin pulling at her lips as she raised an eyebrow in question.

“Raincheck on that long story?”

“Sure you don’t wanna admit you want me first?” he grinned.

She scoffed. “And inflate that ego of yours even more? No fucking way.”

He growled as he reached up and grabbed the front of her neck, leaning in and kissing her roughly. She snickered slightly as her lips moved against his, pulling away before she could let herself fall further into his strange yet intense hold on her.

Ben pulled away from the kiss, and with a wink and suggestive wiggle of his brow he turned the doorknob, walking out onto the porch and into the night. She closed the door, leaning back against it as she took in the state of her living room. She didn’t get the answers she wanted, hell she barely asked the questions she needed to, but considering she never expected this to happen, for him to actually be alive, she supposed they had time to reveal truths and secrets that had been kept for so long.

Something had changed between them, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t help but dwell on it. If their next encounter was going to be anything like it was moments ago, then how could she not? He was a brute and she couldn’t stand him, but fuck it, the sex was worth it.

And that alone was the reason she could learn to tolerate him.

[wayward-dreamer]

Just shamelessly plugging my Soldier Boy Masterlist 😂

Fic recs?

Does anyone have any fic recs for the following?

Russell Shaw x reader (Tracker)

Colter Shaw x reader (Tracker)

Soldier Boy x reader (The Boys)

Whumpy Dean Winchester x reader (Supernatural)

Endverse!Dean x reader

Cozy fall Dean x reader fics

I’ll make up a post from all the suggestions I get in case anyone else is interested too!

[wayward-dreamer]

Jackles Verse Bingo Round 1 - Masterlist

Better Late Than Never (FREE) - Dean x F!Reader

Just For Tonight (Touching under the table) - Jensen x F!Reader

Impatient (Orgasm denial) - Jensen x F!Reader

[wayward-dreamer]

Who deals better with snakes? Indy or Thaddeus Ross?

[wayward-dreamer]

source https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGe3ru13K/

[wayward-dreamer]

How do I get into screenwriting as a beginner

Hi anon, this is a great question! One that also has a bit of a long answer lol

There's honestly a lot of ways you get your start into screenwriting, there definitely isn't one traditional way. The first one is of course through formal study at film school. This is beneficial because you get the knowledge of how to start off writing, what the fundamentals of the craft are, basic genre conventions of whatever you plan to write, script structure etc. You also get industry knowledge from experts, i.e. what producers are looking for when they read a script and why that's important to know when you're writing. You also get to collaborate with your fellow students and really get inspiration from each other firsthand. Naturally, this option isn't always feasible, so you can try a few other things (that said, I'm sure there's great programs and scholarships or something, I'm not really sure how the US system works, assuming that's where you're from!)

YouTube is your best friend! You can definitely type in "how to become a screenwriter" and get a lot of videos on how to start, the basic structure of scripts e.g. film vs TV formatting. You even have a lot of YouTubers that discuss film and how genre conventions inform the writing.

There's also great resources on The Script Lab and Screencraft on how to start and how to keep momentum on what you're working on. There's also ScreenwritingU which does free Zoom classes every now and then, this however you do need to come to it with basic knowledge of scripts and genre before you do this, because these classes are really more about how to further yourself and capitalise on your craft. They do courses as well, like 10 week courses on a specific topic with modules, but these can be quite expensive. That said, they have payment plans if you feel you can do it down the road.

There's plenty of podcasts and books to read as well. I think definitely give The Anatomy of Story and The Anatomy of Genres by John Truby a read, it's good information to keep handy and check in with when you're unsure if you're on the right track. Story: Style, Structure, Substance, and the Principles of Screenwriting by Robert McKee is also pretty essential. You could give Save The Cat a flick through for the absolute basics, but it's not really a big deal like some people make it out to be.

ALSO - read as many scripts of movies and shows you love! There's plenty that are available after a quick google search!

So it really doesn't matter whether you go to film school or you're self taught, as long as you keep up with your writing and load yourself with the knowledge of the genres you want to write for.

Feel free to ask me any other questions you have!

Best of luck and happy writing! :)

[wayward-dreamer]

Hi anon! This is a great question which requires a lengthy answer so we're probably going to be here a while, but I'll try my best to be concise! (Thanks for the tag, Cole! 😘)

So first off, I think you need define what "successful" and "well known" means to you. If you're wanting to become a screenwriter to make money, then unfortunately I have to say it might not happen. It can happen down the road once you've worked for several years and made good money, but it's not going to happen overnight or as soon as you get the first job. Even writers like Vince Gilligan or Aaron Sorkin took several years to become big names. Even if your first project is for a major studio/network/streamer, there's a chance that your next one might not be, or even more probable is the fact that you might be waiting for a long time for whatever the next thing is. If last year's writers strike has taught us one thing, it's that there's a lot of waiting in this business, waiting for the next project/next paycheck etc. and that you really have to be prepared for the down periods as much as you're prepared to hit the ground running when you do get a project.

I don't mean for this to sound like a doom and gloom situation, because this can be a feasible option if you've got your priorities in order. Screenwriting isn't the easy way into this, us writers are in fact probably the most disrespected part of the industry because we're seen as easy targets to take advantage of. If you want to do this - then it has to be to build your career and your passion for writing. You really have to love writing to do this. I myself can't imagine doing anything else, and that's why I've stuck with it for so long. I haven't broken in yet, and it may still be a while, but that's my reality and weirdly enough, I enjoy the challenge.

So, if your priority is your love for the craft and wanting to tell stories in this particular way, then yes. You can make a living, it just might not look like the success of a big shot screenwriter (like the ones mentioned above). It will take years to get to that point, but I think we all secretly hope for that in the back of our minds lol

Here's a few things you can do to figure out if this is what you really want:

I'm going to go ahead and assume you've already written a script or two, so just keep writing. There's nothing wrong with constant practice.

As you write, find your voice. This is the most important thing, because when you do hopefully have your work sent out this is what they'll judge you on amongst other things (high concept, story structure, good dialogue, marketability - keep these in mind too!!). They really want to know you and who you are as a writer, so really make those scripts sing with your unique voice.

Go to the Screencraft and The Script Lab websites. They have great resources for everything on writing, and when you get to that stage, how to sell yourself as a writer.

Try and get as much feedback as you can, whether it's just friends that read your work for an audience perspective, or a proper script consultant for a professional perspective. Those sites have the ability to submit your work to be read, but it does come with a cost. I also do script consultancy as a job, so I'm happy to help you out!

Watch as many TV shows and movies as you can, or have access to. This sounds easy but it really isn't, but you especially should try and watch across several genres. You don't know what kind of show you'll be staffed on, or what movie assignment you'll get, so you've got to be prepared to write for anything.

And like I said above, define what you mean by "success" and "well known" for yourself. This is more so that you're prepared for this shit storm of an industry and have realistic expectations. If you want to make money quickly, this is not the career for you. If you want to eventually get to a comfortable spot after years of the grind, and have enough to make a nice yet modest life yourself, it can absolutely happen.

I'm sure there's so much more I need to say, but I'll leave it there for now. If you have any questions, don't be afraid to send an ask in my inbox, or even DM me if you prefer. I hope this hasn't come across as mean or trying to scare you away, but I really just want everyone to be prepared for what this career actually means.

Best of luck with everything, and happy writing! :)

I really want to become a screenwriter for television or film (I’m not pretty enough to be an actress) and I don’t know if it’s a feasible option or one that would actually work? How do people make a living in it or become successful and well known?

That is a question for @wayward-dreamer! She's doing this exact thing :)