seraph ೀ

𝘣𝘰𝘮𝘣𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵'𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭. › ៸៸ reqs open!

[arianaslyre]

— welcome to my profile !

[ seraph] ! ⚚ multifandom. he/him. 2008. queer. filo.

﹕i've held your projections when you've felt so insecure,

tell me, why is it this way?

why you so hate to see women endure?

⌯⌲ soldierbomb masterlist. amusic. twt.

© decentbits – tutorial by @lovjbini

[male-beauty-gifsets]

[connorwyndham]

Tom Welling as Charlie Baker CHEAPER BY THE DOZEN 2 (2005)

[arianaslyre]

SOLDIER BOY X BOMBSIGHT

thinking about coach!soldier boy giving varsity captain!bombsight a 'classified' ride home from practice...

'i'm just making sure our star player is safe for game day.'

[arianaslyre]

— SOLDIERBOMB MASTERLIST

welcome to my soldierbomb masterlist! — your guide to all of my current and upcoming works featuring ben and robbie, dive in and enjoy the stories! ⤷ my twt

this is a work of fiction. names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination, coincidence or used in a fictitious manner. copyright © 2026 by arianaslyre.

♯ BOTTOMS UP - during one of their seasonal meet-ups, ben and robbie spend the night at an underground gay bar in harlem— with robbie's invitation mixed with ben's hesitation, the two are certainly inseperable. (1.1k)

♯ DECADES - decades of redirected rage and repressed history don't just disappear, following the bunker scene in episode 6— soldier boy and bombsight duel with brute force, right before flying off to god knows where, where no one could interrupt what they were gonna do. (1.5k)

♯ HIDDEN - bombsight takes on the dominant role as he stuffs his team leader into a storage closet, away from the prying eyes of vought. (555)

♯ KEEPING SCORE — AU - soldier boy takes on the role of a strict but protective coach, pushing varsity captain bombsight to his limits—both physically and emotionally. between extra laps and classified rides home, their bond deepens in quiet moments of teasing and care, where the line between mentorship and something more begins to blur. ⤷ EXTRA LAPS - imagines ⤷ CLASSIFIED RIDE - imagines

[arianaslyre]

♯ BOTTOMS UP — a soldierbomb one shot

pairing: soldier boy & bombsight summary: during one of their seasonal meet-ups, ben and robbie spend the night at an underground gay bar in harlem— with robbie's invitation mixed with ben's hesitation, the two are certainly inseperable. (1.1k) content: soldier boy x bombsight, hidden relationship, swear words, alcohol, romantic shipping, prequel, 1980s harlem, underground gay bars, emotional conflict, rough language, drinking, slur use notes: a pretty short one, i'm trying my best to write for yall because i get burnt out (& i'm currently in a writing block lol) very easily when it comes to writing- and as always, i'm open for thoughts! ⤷ my twt

the fog rolling off the harlem river didn't clean the streets; it just trapped the smell of regular life against the concrete.

it was late, the kind of damp 1981 night where the air tasted like cheap gasoline from idling town cars and the thick, low-hanging smoke of burning trash barrels. tucked away past the warehouses, behind an unmarked metal door that looked like an abandoned auto shop, the only giveaway was the low, muffled throb of a bassline vibrating through the wet pavement.

ben pulled the collar of his coat up against the chill, his boots crunching over shattered glass and grease slicks as he stepped into the dark stairwell. it had been decades since the original team had gone their separate ways— thirty years since the uniforms, the press tours, and the neatly packaged lies vought fed to the public had officially unraveled. the world had moved on to synth-pop and glitter, leaving the relics of the fifties to rot in their own corporate retirement.

but some habits were too ugly to break.

for three decades, while the rest of the world thought they were practically strangers living completely separate lives, ben and robbie had been doing this. meeting in back-alley hotels, smoky lounges, and places like this—unmarked, underground holes in the wall where vought’s cameras wouldn't look too closely. It wasn't a romance; it was a lingering sickness, a sort of... mutual refusal to let the past go.

the two men had met up in all sorts of places, he was a party boy, clubs and what not—though gay clubs & bars were always a thing ben hesitated about, but he went anyway. the older man stood in the parking lot, looking at the lowered flickering neon sign at the distance, he let out a gruff groan as he made his way to the hidden establishment. the sound of the bell door jingling clouded the room, ben looked around the space, with some gazes of curiosity and respect being given back to him— the hidden establishment was filled with men & women of all sorts, along with male couples swaying to 'wishing on a star' by rose royce. “son of a...” ben mumbled with slight disgust, though he was interrupted when he finally saw robbie- who was drowning in beers by now, his elbow resting on the bar island as he sat infront of multiple glasses. the bass in the alley club was a jazzy thud that made ben’s teeth ache, but he didn't move from the corner.

he hated the music. he hated the flashing pink neon that cut across the smoky room, and he especially hated the way the city's secret crowd melted together on the floor. it was messy. it was unpolished. but every time he thought about walking out into the cold '81 air, his eyes would lock onto the familiar silhouette near the bar.

robbie was drunkenly laughing at something the bartender in leather had said. he made his way to the drunk man, who was probably close to falling off on his stool chair. the younger man's drunken eyes lit up when he turned his head with a surprised smile, “well look who it is.” he took a glass and weakly shoved it on ben's chest. “didn't know if you'd actually come, thought it was a shot in the dark, honest.” “fuckin' hate places like this. faggots everywhere.” ben mumbled gruffly only for the other man to hear, putting down the glass robbie shoved in his chest and casually sitting on the stool chair next to the smaller man. “coming from you? please.” with that response, ben gave robbie an irritated look. “c'mooooonnnnn... this is one of the only places we get to uh...” robbie winked, poking ben's bicep teasingly with a drunken chuckle. “i'm wishin' on a staaar~” the younger man raised his hands, swaying his body to the beat in his chair as he sang along to the voice of rose royce. “whiskey. heavy pour. none of that craft crap—give me the stuff that’ll put hair on your chest.” ben nodded at the bartender.

“i'm wishin' on the rainbows- that i see...” robbie sang along to the final lyrics of the song, swaying his body to the beat in his chair as he harmonized to the voice of rose royce. “i'm wishin' on a star ~! to follow where y'are!” ben just looked at the drunk man next to him, a look of disbelief obvious on his face, “how long y'been here for..?” the smaller man facing him slowed his movements, giving ben the same drunken smile he met ben in. “three hours.” the older man let out a scoff with a cocky smile before taking the tall glass of whiskey the bartender slid infront of him. “heh, friggin' chump.” he responded as he took a swig of his drink, leaving a line of subtle foam on his upper lip.

robbie grinned as he swiftly held ben's jaw and kissed him, his tongue purposely going over the man's upper lip. “mnh...” to ben's surprise, he pulled back quickly. “hey!” robbie exclaimed with a subtle whine.

“don't fucking pull that shit and surprise me, jackass.” robbie was about to argue back with his lover, but the dj's song choice intervened- picking a slow ballad— 'say hello, wave goodbye' by soft cell' the young man's eyes lit up, “...i'm gonna let that slide cuz i know you're a little turned off by the place, but we have to dance.” ben scoffed with furrowed brows, wanting to push back on robbie's demands— but he was cut off when the smaller man pulled him out of his chair, forcing him to put his glass of whiskey down on the bar island. “i'm not doin' this bullshit robbi-” “that's enough, y'tough cookie. my song.” robbie raised his hands as he sang along to the lyrics, his hips swaying with no hesitance, keeping eye contact with the larger man as he gave ben a nod. ben reluctantly placed his hands on robbie's hips,

ben’s arms were stiff at first, his body a reluctant statue pressed against the rhythm. but as the bass wrapped around them, the edges of his resistance softened, melting into the warmth of robbie’s warmth beneath his palm.

the neon haze faded, the crowd’s noise dimmed to a distant hum. for a moment, it was just the two of them—two ghosts clinging to a past neither dared to fully let go.

the younger man's breath hitched while he looked up at ben, a tremor in his voice as he whispered, “i’m scared, ben. scared of what comes after all this.”

robbie’s hand tightened on his arm. “we don’t have to keep running.”

ben’s eyes flicked to him, sharp and tired. “running? nah. I’m just too stubborn to quit.” he responded with a subtle grin.

the song ended, but ben didn’t pull away. instead, he muttered, “ah fuck. maybe i’ll stick around a little longer. don’t get used to it.”

robbie grinned, a mix of relief and something softer in his eyes. “that’s all I’m askin’ for.”

outside, the fog rolled thick over the harlem river, but inside, beneath the flickering neon and fading music, two men held onto something fragile—something worth fighting for, even if neither said it out loud.

[arianaslyre]

— SOLDIERBOMB MASTERLIST

welcome to my soldierbomb masterlist! — your guide to all of my current and upcoming works featuring ben and robbie, dive in and enjoy the stories! ⤷ my twt

this is a work of fiction. names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination, coincidence or used in a fictitious manner. copyright © 2026 by arianaslyre.

♯ BOTTOMS UP - during one of their seasonal meet-ups, ben and robbie spend the night at an underground gay bar in harlem— with robbie's invitation mixed with ben's hesitation, the two are certainly inseperable. (1.1k)

♯ DECADES - decades of redirected rage and repressed history don't just disappear, following the bunker scene in episode 6— soldier boy and bombsight duel with brute force, right before flying off to god knows where, where no one could interrupt what they were gonna do. (1.5k)

♯ HIDDEN - bombsight takes on the dominant role as he stuffs his team leader into a storage closet, away from the prying eyes of vought. (555)

♯ KEEPING SCORE — AU - soldier boy takes on the role of a strict but protective coach, pushing varsity captain bombsight to his limits—both physically and emotionally. between extra laps and classified rides home, their bond deepens in quiet moments of teasing and care, where the line between mentorship and something more begins to blur. ⤷ EXTRA LAPS - imagines ⤷ CLASSIFIED RIDE - imagines

[vetckkie]

girl get off that c.ai and embrace the 'x reader'

[arianaslyre]

SOLDIER BOY X BOMBSIGHT

'i'm just making sure our star player is safe for game day.'

thinking about coach!soldier boy giving varsity captain!bombsight a 'classified' ride home from practice...

[redneval1160]

I wanted to say I really love all your Soldier bombs post especially this one and I drew them in this AU but I am too shy to post them it would be great if I could send it to you somehow.

[arianaslyre]

wait omg ofc????

[arianaslyre]

SOLDIER BOY X BOMBSIGHT

thinking about coach!soldier boy deliberately making varsity captain!bombsight run extra laps after an already grueling practice until his knees are shaking...

“knees are looking a little soft for a star player.” ben spoke with his signature southern drawl, looking down at the other man- who was practically drowning in sweat, panting heavily. "c'mon robbie, ease up.”

“you've handled things much bigger than this.” he added with a teasing, subtle grin.

[arianaslyre]

♯ DECADES

pairing: soldier boy & bombsight summary: decades of redirected rage and repressed history don't just disappear, following the bunker scene in episode 6— soldier boy and bombsight duel with brute force, right before flying off to god knows where, where no one could interrupt what they were gonna do. (1.5k) content: soldier boy x bombsight, smut, hidden relationship, slurs, m/m, angst (ish), the use of their real names, size difference, age gap, toxic relationship, public sex, older!soldierboy & younger!bombsight notes: SPOILERS for episode 6, the first parts of this fic are what happened in the episode that i added so this doesn't feel like an unarranged mess :3 lmk if you hate it or not ⤷ my twt

after bombsight threw butcher through a wall, he began to make his way back to golden geisha— with a couple gunshots from mm and frenchie to which he undoubtly ignored.

“let's go.” bombsight stated, to which golden geisha gave a nod to— and as he was untying the woman's restraints, kimiko was up once more- ready to give her all to this fight.

bombsight's brows furrowed at the sight, making his way to kimiko with a charged fist— his intentions being disrupted by goldie shielding kimiko, to bombsight's shock. "please, don't.” goldie pleaded in concern.

“they kidnapped you-”

“i don't want anyone else getting hurt because of me.”

the timeworn lovers shared a look, goldie gives a glance to kimiko, her aloof gaze felt as endless as this war, the shielded supe was smiling gratefully— as they gave each other a nod of agreement.

all of this tension was interrupted by direct gunshots to bombsight, sending him back a couple meters.

“hiya, robbie.” soldier boy nodded at him, a grunt look on his face as he gave the outdated supe a scrutinizing gaze.

the air in sage’s bunker tasted like stale copper and desperation, but all bombsight could smell was the goddamn past as he stared at his former team leader while he panted, he got up and adjusted himself— “ben.”

“you know how long i've wanted to smash in that pretty face?” bombsight retorted with a bitter smile on his face.

“buddy, the queen sat on this face.” the older man spat back with a smoldering grin, “it's a national fuckin' treasure.” his voice was a gravelly texan crawl, vibrating with a decade's worth of redirected rage as he looked at the one man who had the audacity to still look like a pin-up girl after years of hiding.

the two brutes wrestle it out, soldier boy obviously having the advantage— after bombsight missed a strike, soldier boy grappled him as he whirled him across the bunker. soldier boy roared as he leaped with his fist to slam at bombsight, to which he successfully hit, “goddamn it...” he groaned, cracking his knuckles.

bombsight caught his breath as he got up, charging at the other man as they clashed forces— and soon exchanged countless jabs at each other. soldier boy broke off a piece of pipe to use as a weapon, swiping his opponent into his huge arms as he stuffed it into bombsight's mouth. to which bombsight struggled, squelching sounds filled the room as he endured the pain. (no gag reflex though)

they fought with their strength, trying to force themself onto the other— though bombsight was able to get a jab at soldier boy's stomach, allowing him to unfurl from the older man's grip as he gasped.

clutching his chest, bombsight ran with a struggle towards the very hole he bursted from in the first place— launching himself from the ground with a frantic snarl and headed towards the exit, though soldier boy was fast enough to grab onto his foot, as they flew off into the distance.

the two crash-landed at nearby field, making a crater on the ground as the smell of dirt filled their noses— and even with the ringing in his ears, soldier boy managed to get up with a grunt, “god-DAMN it i hate flying!” he exclaimed with frustration and anger.

he made his way to bombsight with a scowl on his face, grabbed his chest and threw him on his stomach along the edge of the crater— the same ringing in his ears motivating him as he lunged forward, panting hard, a guttural grunt tearing from his throat as he got on top of bombsight and gripped his neck back like a vice.

“tough skin or not, i can still break your fuckin' neck!” soldier boy growled, “you always were a flighty little bastard. runnin' off to vought, runnin' off to some girl… I'm tired of chasin' you, robbie. i'm real tired.”

the man under him closed his eyes as he let out a breathless rasp, trying to endure the larger man's grip on his jaw— "ben-! stop!”

“please.”

a beat. then soldier boy reluctantly let go of his grip, getting up immediately as he ran his hand through his hair— wiping his mouth, “goddamn it.” he muttered, facing the same man he'd taken over and over decades ago.

both men stood there, panting heavily from the endless fighting they had just done, their gazes filled with decades of... longing? denial? robbie just stared at the older man, sighing as he shifted his gaze down at his feet. “...i can't give the v1 to you.”

“goldie doesn't even wanna take it!” ben spat back with frustration, a fire blazing in his eyes. “then maybe someday i'll find someone else who will!” robbie rasped out, “you were always gonna *fuck it up* with goldie anyway. you could never hold down a girl, it was either a smack needle up yer dick or-”

“...having to stand next to you?” robbie countered as his sanity practically unraveled in front of ben, cutting the man's words off. "i-... after you got with clara i spent YEARS trying to replace you. and now you demand something from me as if i didn't spend COUNTLESS nights in YOUR bed as you did in mine?!” robbie declared with a mournful, conflicted tone— his gaze laying restless.

“you were always the fucking golden boy, everybody loved you- especially clara, i... the rest of the team was never gonna reach anything because it was you who vought wanted.” the younger man confessed, panting heavily as he wiped the sweat off his forehead,

“i *hated* you for it, spent years tryin' to build something that looked just like what you had.” tears of frustration began to build in robbie's eyes, but they didn't dare fall. “...no i wasn't everything clara wanted." ben gave him a hollow gaze, "i couldn't.”

“but you loved her?” the two shared a shaken look, each devoted to one another— all ben did was walk closer to robbie, crowding his space even more as he held a fractured smile, the silence of the field being louder than their previous battle.

“i really fuckin' hate you.” ben responded with vulnerability. "no shit.” robbie nodded, a reluctant smile creeping up his face.

a beat,

“...70 years and you still manage to get a rise out of me, dickweed.” ben grumbled, running a hand through his hair.

“then do something about it, stop hiding behind the medals and the 'national treasure' bullshit and just—” robbie grabbed the collar of ben's suit, pulling him down as he slammed his lips onto his, ben was... undoubtly surprised, but- he melted into it anyway. it was hotter now: deeper, hungrier; all tongue and teeth, the faint taste of nicotine still lingering on ben's lips from a previous cigarette he was smoking before.

“such a... fuckin' pansy.” ben’s hands were everywhere at once. One caught robbie’s hip in a bruising grip; the other tangled deep in his sweaty hair, pulling back just enough to make robbie hiss against his lips. he was... practically glued to robbie, with large hands mapping out the younger man's upper body.

both men didn't fucking care that they were at the edge of a crater, that the nasty smell of earth wasn't forcing itself inside their noses— the larger man practically tore off robbie's dirty jacket, throwing it god knows where in the crater. “yer' getting it.”

robbie let out a surprised grunt the moment ben threw him back down on his stomach, “70 fuckin' years, and we're going all the way in a goddamn crater.” ben muttered, robbie let out a yelp as the larger man looming over him smacked his ass.

“we did it once in maria's office, and that was before you killed her.” robbie muttered, panting heavily. “r'you gonna arch that fuckin' back for me or do i have to do it for you?” ben spat back as he tore off the emblem on his chest for some breathability. his hands shook as he struggled to unbuckle his suit's belt, “does the 'national treasure' know his hands are shaking?”

“shut your mouth 'fore I make you." ben muttered in robbie's ear, before leaving a rough mark on the back of his neck— like he did in back in the day, he swiftly gripped robbie's hips and pulled his ass back onto his throbbing bulge.

could ben barely move in his suit? yeah, did that stop him? fuck no.

he pulled down robbie's old jeans along with his briefs— not even bothering with the belt because he knew damn well he was going to break it anyway. ben pulled his suit's pants down slightly, his throbbing length flopping out like a goddamn jack-in-the-box, immediately grabbing his dick to give it a few pumps. “missed this cock, didn't ya? y' always were a tough little nut to crack, robbie.”

ben rumbled as he teased the thick head on robbie's entrance, “let's see if you're still as tight as you were before they put me on ice.”

ben didn’t wait for a reply, he wasn't the type to ask for permission, and he certainly wasn't about to start with the man who’d been a thorn in his side since the eisenhower administration. he gripped robbie’s hip bone with a force that was going to leave a permanent thumbprint, his other hand shoving robbie's face back down into the grit of the crater as he thrusted in balls deep.

“don't you go gettin' quiet on me now," ben growled, his voice a low, vibrating rumble against robbie’s spine. "you spent all that time talkin' back in the bunker... let's see if you can keep that same energy while I'm breakin' you in.” soldier boy guided his large, large cockhead to the younger man's plump cheeks— watching as it disappeared in between the two globes. "sshiiiiit- fuck ben!"

robbie let out a choked, ragged sound—half-sob, half-laugh—as he felt the staggering size of ben's cock. it wasn't just body heat; it was the slow, rhythmic thrum of radiation, a ticking clock that made the air around them taste like ozone. he dug his fingers into the loose soil, his nails caked with dirt as he arched his back with a whine, a desperate, instinctual movement that only made ben’s grip tighten.

"still a squirmy little bitch," ben muttered, his texan drawl thick with a dark, satisfied edge. He didn't use any finesse. He was a blunt instrument, a relic of a time when 'tough love' was just an excuse for a beating. he pressed forward, the friction raw and unforgiving, forcing himself into robbie’s insides with the same relentless momentum he used to level buildings.

robbie’s breath hitched, a sharp, pained gasp catching in his throat. It felt like being hit by a freight train—classic soldier boy. no prep, no gentleness, just the sheer, overwhelming weight of his lover pinning him to the earth. “god... benji—” the sounds of skin to skin slapping against each other was all they could hear, aside from ben's grunts.

“that's right,” ben grunted, his pace picking up, steady and punishing. he was sweating now, the salt dripping onto robbie’s back, marking him just as thoroughly as the bruises. “remember who’s leadin' this shit. remember who you're lookin' for every time you close your eyes at night.”

he leaned down, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of robbie’s shoulder, right over an old scar. “you wanted to replace me? you wanted to build a life that looked like mine? look at ya, robbie. you’re right back where you started— under my boot. squirmin' and moanin' on my cock.” with a beastly pace, he gave the man beneath him a pounding he deserved.

robbie couldn't even retort. the world was shrinking down to the sound of ben's heavy breathing, the smell of soil, and the terrifying, beautiful heat radiating from the man above him. he was being dismantled, piece by piece, seventy years of longing and hatred being burnt away by a nuclear reactor in a suit.

ben's pace was bristling, hard and fast as he used his free hand to pull back robbie's sweaty hair- with a trembling exhale, he muttered in the smaller man's ear; “beg for it. beg for my fuckin' jizz.”

gasping into the dirt, fingers clawing at the loose earth “ben... god, ben, please. i can'tmmmngh—i can't take any more of this just ugh fuck... do it. finish it~...” with a ragged pant, ben choked robbie from behind— gripping his neck as he pounded the smaller man.

his voice a jagged, texan snarl as he leaned down, his breath a hot, nicotine-laced rasp against robbie’s ear— “fuckin' punk.... gah... yeah you look fuckin' pathetic. you askin' for a mercy kill, son? or are you just finally admittin' you can't handle the real thing no more?”

robbie's arms thrashed beneath ben as he let out a breathless rasp, without caring for the soil getting him dirty. “i'm admitting i'm yours! just... please. n-now~... now!, ben F-FUCK!”

with a final, savage thrust, ben buried himself balls deep inside robbie's quivering heat— his pulsing shaft erupted, painting the younger man's insides white with thick, hot ropes of his potent cum, ben's entire body shuddered and jerked as he pumped spurt after spurt of cum into his lover's hungry hole.

he gripped robbie's wrists with bruising force, holding himself impossibly deep as he emptied every last drop inside the man beneath him. “MN-MNHAH~!” robbie exclaimed with a breathless rasp.

ben rode out his high with a few more harsh thrusts, gritting his teeth with the sheer amount of pleasure his body just experienced.

“son... son of a bitch...” he panted with a shuddering exhale, his grip loosening on the man beneath him— to which he eventually let go of, pushing robbie back down.

robbie was... obviously- completely spent, just laying on the soil- panting heavily as his asshole quivered around ben's thick cock.

“look at you,” ben whispered, his voice wrecked as he collapsed against robbie’s back, his lips pressed against the smaller man's ear. “still breathin'. guess you’re tougher than you look, fag.”

from a far distance, in the trees;

lowering his binoculars slowly, his face a mask of pure, unadulterated disgust- “well... that’s just bloody poetic, innit? here i was, hopin' the two prehistoric cunts would knock each other's blocks off, and instead, we’re treated to a front-row seat of the 'greatest generation' havin' a go at it in the mud like fockin' chimpanzees.”

OKAAYYYY!! long fic i'm kinda nervous on how yall will take this but #blessed, okayyy moving onto the blurbs i posted on twitter! expect some in a couple days since i'm doing summer classes xo

[cursed-carmine]

✴︎ REBLOG BANNER

ﾉ Please reblog & credit if you use!

Feel free to recolor these as necessary but still give credit!!

SUCCULENTS

FOREST

MOON BLUE

OCEAN

PURPLE HAZE

[deanwinchesterkiss]

MDNI/ rich sugar daddy ben x fem reader

𑣲⋆ soldier boy who gives you a few 100 dollar bills bundled up in silk as soon as you get into his car whenever he is picking you up. you whisper yell at him "ben you're making me look like a damn hooker infront of my friends!" he hands them to you with a smug grin "isn't that what you initially are sugarpuss?" you furrow your eyebrows at him "christ, untwist your panties, they all know you're financially dependent on me, doll"

𑣲⋆ soldier boy who always has his weird way of comforting you whenever you are in a bad mood. his free hand massages your tense shoulder blade while the other one is on the wheel "you are so tense doll. rough day huh?" you huffed out and massaged your temples "it's been such a rough week, everyone was testing me, so help me god" he mocked your pout "awww it's okay baby, daddy is gonna fuck you silly at home till' you're gonna forget about your blues. maybe you should just give up college, you're too dumb for it sweetheart. you are meant to be a housewife"

𑣲⋆ soldier boy who makes you dance and walk around the room in lingerie while he watches. he always picks out the skimpiest lingerie and makes you walk around in tall heels so that you struggle. he even went so far as to buying a stripper pole in his mansion so that you can dance for him "feels real nice havin' my own private whore. you're doing so well baby" his tone drops "now get on your knees and start slobbering on my balls, bitch. daddy is goin' to pay you real good if you do a good job"

𑣲⋆soldier boy who takes you out in public whenever you get drunk. you cover your face and giggle every time you stumble. his hand is holding onto your waist tightly "look at you bein' such a messed up slut, depending on your old man"

[arianaslyre]

♯ BOTTOMS UP — a soldierbomb one shot

pairing: soldier boy & bombsight summary: during one of their seasonal meet-ups, ben and robbie spend the night at an underground gay bar in harlem— with robbie's invitation mixed with ben's hesitation, the two are certainly inseperable. (1.1k) content: soldier boy x bombsight, hidden relationship, swear words, alcohol, romantic shipping, prequel, 1980s harlem, underground gay bars, emotional conflict, rough language, drinking, slur use notes: a pretty short one, i'm trying my best to write for yall because i get burnt out (& i'm currently in a writing block lol) very easily when it comes to writing- and as always, i'm open for thoughts! ⤷ my twt

the fog rolling off the harlem river didn't clean the streets; it just trapped the smell of regular life against the concrete.

it was late, the kind of damp 1981 night where the air tasted like cheap gasoline from idling town cars and the thick, low-hanging smoke of burning trash barrels. tucked away past the warehouses, behind an unmarked metal door that looked like an abandoned auto shop, the only giveaway was the low, muffled throb of a bassline vibrating through the wet pavement.

ben pulled the collar of his coat up against the chill, his boots crunching over shattered glass and grease slicks as he stepped into the dark stairwell. it had been decades since the original team had gone their separate ways— thirty years since the uniforms, the press tours, and the neatly packaged lies vought fed to the public had officially unraveled. the world had moved on to synth-pop and glitter, leaving the relics of the fifties to rot in their own corporate retirement.

but some habits were too ugly to break.

for three decades, while the rest of the world thought they were practically strangers living completely separate lives, ben and robbie had been doing this. meeting in back-alley hotels, smoky lounges, and places like this—unmarked, underground holes in the wall where vought’s cameras wouldn't look too closely. It wasn't a romance; it was a lingering sickness, a sort of... mutual refusal to let the past go.

the two men had met up in all sorts of places, he was a party boy, clubs and what not—though gay clubs & bars were always a thing ben hesitated about, but he went anyway. the older man stood in the parking lot, looking at the lowered flickering neon sign at the distance, he let out a gruff groan as he made his way to the hidden establishment. the sound of the bell door jingling clouded the room, ben looked around the space, with some gazes of curiosity and respect being given back to him— the hidden establishment was filled with men & women of all sorts, along with male couples swaying to 'wishing on a star' by rose royce. “son of a...” ben mumbled with slight disgust, though he was interrupted when he finally saw robbie- who was drowning in beers by now, his elbow resting on the bar island as he sat infront of multiple glasses. the bass in the alley club was a jazzy thud that made ben’s teeth ache, but he didn't move from the corner.

he hated the music. he hated the flashing pink neon that cut across the smoky room, and he especially hated the way the city's secret crowd melted together on the floor. it was messy. it was unpolished. but every time he thought about walking out into the cold '81 air, his eyes would lock onto the familiar silhouette near the bar.

robbie was drunkenly laughing at something the bartender in leather had said. he made his way to the drunk man, who was probably close to falling off on his stool chair. the younger man's drunken eyes lit up when he turned his head with a surprised smile, “well look who it is.” he took a glass and weakly shoved it on ben's chest. “didn't know if you'd actually come, thought it was a shot in the dark, honest.” “fuckin' hate places like this. faggots everywhere.” ben mumbled gruffly only for the other man to hear, putting down the glass robbie shoved in his chest and casually sitting on the stool chair next to the smaller man. “coming from you? please.” with that response, ben gave robbie an irritated look. “c'mooooonnnnn... this is one of the only places we get to uh...” robbie winked, poking ben's bicep teasingly with a drunken chuckle. “i'm wishin' on a staaar~” the younger man raised his hands, swaying his body to the beat in his chair as he sang along to the voice of rose royce. “whiskey. heavy pour. none of that craft crap—give me the stuff that’ll put hair on your chest.” ben nodded at the bartender.

“i'm wishin' on the rainbows- that i see...” robbie sang along to the final lyrics of the song, swaying his body to the beat in his chair as he harmonized to the voice of rose royce. “i'm wishin' on a star ~! to follow where y'are!” ben just looked at the drunk man next to him, a look of disbelief obvious on his face, “how long y'been here for..?” the smaller man facing him slowed his movements, giving ben the same drunken smile he met ben in. “three hours.” the older man let out a scoff with a cocky smile before taking the tall glass of whiskey the bartender slid infront of him. “heh, friggin' chump.” he responded as he took a swig of his drink, leaving a line of subtle foam on his upper lip.

robbie grinned as he swiftly held ben's jaw and kissed him, his tongue purposely going over the man's upper lip. “mnh...” to ben's surprise, he pulled back quickly. “hey!” robbie exclaimed with a subtle whine.

“don't fucking pull that shit and surprise me, jackass.” robbie was about to argue back with his lover, but the dj's song choice intervened- picking a slow ballad— 'say hello, wave goodbye' by soft cell' the young man's eyes lit up, “...i'm gonna let that slide cuz i know you're a little turned off by the place, but we have to dance.” ben scoffed with furrowed brows, wanting to push back on robbie's demands— but he was cut off when the smaller man pulled him out of his chair, forcing him to put his glass of whiskey down on the bar island. “i'm not doin' this bullshit robbi-” “that's enough, y'tough cookie. my song.” robbie raised his hands as he sang along to the lyrics, his hips swaying with no hesitance, keeping eye contact with the larger man as he gave ben a nod. ben reluctantly placed his hands on robbie's hips,

ben’s arms were stiff at first, his body a reluctant statue pressed against the rhythm. but as the bass wrapped around them, the edges of his resistance softened, melting into the warmth of robbie’s warmth beneath his palm.

the neon haze faded, the crowd’s noise dimmed to a distant hum. for a moment, it was just the two of them—two ghosts clinging to a past neither dared to fully let go.

the younger man's breath hitched while he looked up at ben, a tremor in his voice as he whispered, “i’m scared, ben. scared of what comes after all this.”

robbie’s hand tightened on his arm. “we don’t have to keep running.”

ben’s eyes flicked to him, sharp and tired. “running? nah. I’m just too stubborn to quit.” he responded with a subtle grin.

the song ended, but ben didn’t pull away. instead, he muttered, “ah fuck. maybe i’ll stick around a little longer. don’t get used to it.”

robbie grinned, a mix of relief and something softer in his eyes. “that’s all I’m askin’ for.”

outside, the fog rolled thick over the harlem river, but inside, beneath the flickering neon and fading music, two men held onto something fragile—something worth fighting for, even if neither said it out loud.

[arianaslyre]

♯ BOTTOMS UP — a soldierbomb one shot

pairing: soldier boy & bombsight summary: during one of their seasonal meet-ups, ben and robbie spend the night at an underground gay bar in harlem— with robbie's invitation mixed with ben's hesitation, the two are certainly inseperable. (1.1k) content: soldier boy x bombsight, hidden relationship, swear words, alcohol, romantic shipping, prequel, 1980s harlem, underground gay bars, emotional conflict, rough language, drinking, slur use notes: a pretty short one, i'm trying my best to write for yall because i get burnt out (& i'm currently in a writing block lol) very easily when it comes to writing- and as always, i'm open for thoughts! ⤷ my twt

the fog rolling off the harlem river didn't clean the streets; it just trapped the smell of regular life against the concrete.

it was late, the kind of damp 1981 night where the air tasted like cheap gasoline from idling town cars and the thick, low-hanging smoke of burning trash barrels. tucked away past the warehouses, behind an unmarked metal door that looked like an abandoned auto shop, the only giveaway was the low, muffled throb of a bassline vibrating through the wet pavement.

ben pulled the collar of his coat up against the chill, his boots crunching over shattered glass and grease slicks as he stepped into the dark stairwell. it had been decades since the original team had gone their separate ways— thirty years since the uniforms, the press tours, and the neatly packaged lies vought fed to the public had officially unraveled. the world had moved on to synth-pop and glitter, leaving the relics of the fifties to rot in their own corporate retirement.

but some habits were too ugly to break.

for three decades, while the rest of the world thought they were practically strangers living completely separate lives, ben and robbie had been doing this. meeting in back-alley hotels, smoky lounges, and places like this—unmarked, underground holes in the wall where vought’s cameras wouldn't look too closely. It wasn't a romance; it was a lingering sickness, a sort of... mutual refusal to let the past go.

the two men had met up in all sorts of places, he was a party boy, clubs and what not—though gay clubs & bars were always a thing ben hesitated about, but he went anyway. the older man stood in the parking lot, looking at the lowered flickering neon sign at the distance, he let out a gruff groan as he made his way to the hidden establishment. the sound of the bell door jingling clouded the room, ben looked around the space, with some gazes of curiosity and respect being given back to him— the hidden establishment was filled with men & women of all sorts, along with male couples swaying to 'wishing on a star' by rose royce. “son of a...” ben mumbled with slight disgust, though he was interrupted when he finally saw robbie- who was drowning in beers by now, his elbow resting on the bar island as he sat infront of multiple glasses. the bass in the alley club was a jazzy thud that made ben’s teeth ache, but he didn't move from the corner.

he hated the music. he hated the flashing pink neon that cut across the smoky room, and he especially hated the way the city's secret crowd melted together on the floor. it was messy. it was unpolished. but every time he thought about walking out into the cold '81 air, his eyes would lock onto the familiar silhouette near the bar.

robbie was drunkenly laughing at something the bartender in leather had said. he made his way to the drunk man, who was probably close to falling off on his stool chair. the younger man's drunken eyes lit up when he turned his head with a surprised smile, “well look who it is.” he took a glass and weakly shoved it on ben's chest. “didn't know if you'd actually come, thought it was a shot in the dark, honest.” “fuckin' hate places like this. faggots everywhere.” ben mumbled gruffly only for the other man to hear, putting down the glass robbie shoved in his chest and casually sitting on the stool chair next to the smaller man. “coming from you? please.” with that response, ben gave robbie an irritated look. “c'mooooonnnnn... this is one of the only places we get to uh...” robbie winked, poking ben's bicep teasingly with a drunken chuckle. “i'm wishin' on a staaar~” the younger man raised his hands, swaying his body to the beat in his chair as he sang along to the voice of rose royce. “whiskey. heavy pour. none of that craft crap—give me the stuff that’ll put hair on your chest.” ben nodded at the bartender.

“i'm wishin' on the rainbows- that i see...” robbie sang along to the final lyrics of the song, swaying his body to the beat in his chair as he harmonized to the voice of rose royce. “i'm wishin' on a star ~! to follow where y'are!” ben just looked at the drunk man next to him, a look of disbelief obvious on his face, “how long y'been here for..?” the smaller man facing him slowed his movements, giving ben the same drunken smile he met ben in. “three hours.” the older man let out a scoff with a cocky smile before taking the tall glass of whiskey the bartender slid infront of him. “heh, friggin' chump.” he responded as he took a swig of his drink, leaving a line of subtle foam on his upper lip.

robbie grinned as he swiftly held ben's jaw and kissed him, his tongue purposely going over the man's upper lip. “mnh...” to ben's surprise, he pulled back quickly. “hey!” robbie exclaimed with a subtle whine.

“don't fucking pull that shit and surprise me, jackass.” robbie was about to argue back with his lover, but the dj's song choice intervened- picking a slow ballad— 'say hello, wave goodbye' by soft cell' the young man's eyes lit up, “...i'm gonna let that slide cuz i know you're a little turned off by the place, but we have to dance.” ben scoffed with furrowed brows, wanting to push back on robbie's demands— but he was cut off when the smaller man pulled him out of his chair, forcing him to put his glass of whiskey down on the bar island. “i'm not doin' this bullshit robbi-” “that's enough, y'tough cookie. my song.” robbie raised his hands as he sang along to the lyrics, his hips swaying with no hesitance, keeping eye contact with the larger man as he gave ben a nod. ben reluctantly placed his hands on robbie's hips,

ben’s arms were stiff at first, his body a reluctant statue pressed against the rhythm. but as the bass wrapped around them, the edges of his resistance softened, melting into the warmth of robbie’s warmth beneath his palm.

the neon haze faded, the crowd’s noise dimmed to a distant hum. for a moment, it was just the two of them—two ghosts clinging to a past neither dared to fully let go.

the younger man's breath hitched while he looked up at ben, a tremor in his voice as he whispered, “i’m scared, ben. scared of what comes after all this.”

robbie’s hand tightened on his arm. “we don’t have to keep running.”

ben’s eyes flicked to him, sharp and tired. “running? nah. I’m just too stubborn to quit.” he responded with a subtle grin.

the song ended, but ben didn’t pull away. instead, he muttered, “ah fuck. maybe i’ll stick around a little longer. don’t get used to it.”

robbie grinned, a mix of relief and something softer in his eyes. “that’s all I’m askin’ for.”

outside, the fog rolled thick over the harlem river, but inside, beneath the flickering neon and fading music, two men held onto something fragile—something worth fighting for, even if neither said it out loud.

[godjustkys]

top!sam winchester x male reader drabble . . . (size diff kink, smaller!reader)

“..shhh..” sam cooed softly, his big hand holding you down almost effortlessly. well, it wasn’t like you were trying to move away willingly. he was just so big. all over. “you’re okay.. you can take it.” he spoke softly, his voice a murmur. you squirmed again, the stretch starting to feel unbearable — it was fucking obscene. with a small, helpless whine you shifted your hips and sam tutted in response. “stay.”

that one word had your entire body locking up, heat rushing to your cheeks, your cock twitching untouched between your stomach and his. sam’s free hand slid up your ribs to your chest, pressing down just enough to keep you still. sam pushed in an inch and he groaned like it hurt to hold back. “you’re squeezing me so tight, baby.” he breathed and you gasped under him, your fingers curling in the sheets. “s— sam..”

“i know.” he hushed you again, leaning down to kiss your forehead, your cheek, then the corner of your mouth. “i’ve got you. let me make you feel good.” his every word settled deep in your spine and every roll of his hips forced you to feel just how big he was. he could easily ruin you; but he didn’t. he always took his time, worshipped you with every filthy, slow grind, every groaned praise in your ear.

“that’s it..” sam whispered as he bottomed out, fully inside of you. “just look at you.. taking all of me. such a good boy. so full.” you were already shaking under him, panting, whimpering — and he hadn’t really started. “gonna fuck you real slow.” he cooed softly, his words a promise. “gonna make you feel every inch. you’re so pretty, baby.”

[arianaslyre]

7 soldierbomb drafts... i'm hyperventilating