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#soldier boy fanfiction
You Call It Madness But I Call It Love
Chapter 14: You're All I'm Dreaming Of
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Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Soldier Boy POV
Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter fourteen of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)
Word Count: 5.8K
Warnings: References to sex, Mentions of sex (not really explicit), Self-detrimental thoughts, Cursing, Drinking/Snorting Drugs, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.
Note: This is told from Soldier Boy's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics
Series Masterlist
Masterlist
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Previously:
"Y/f/n Y/l/n?" The dark haired man asks, an accent tilting the ends of his words.
"Who's asking?"
He pulls out a badge, holding it up to the peep hole. "I'm Agent Butcher, this is Agent Campbell. We’re from the CIA, here to ask you a couple of questions about Soldier Boy."
You open the door to look at them. "The rapper?"
"What?" Agent Butcher looks confused.
"The rapper? Soulja Boy-" You arch a brow feigning confusion. "Because honestly I don't understand why the CIA would be asking me about that."
“No.” Agent Butcher holds up a photo.
You keep your face impassive. It’s a photo of Ben and you at a movie premiere the week before he left to go to Nicaragua.
“You’re here to talk to me about my mom?” You flit your eyes back to the two men standing in the doorway, easily slipping into the lie that you and Legend invented.
“Your mom?” Agent Campbell looks confused.
“Yeah. Indigo. Who did you think I meant?" You ask.
*******************************************
Present Day
*Soldier Boy POV*
The longer Ben sat in the motel room the more he thought of you. It wasn’t unusual. Ben was always thinking of you, even before he fucked everything up and before you two became supes, Ben rarely thought about anyone else. He hated that he did that, hated that you were always on his mind because he believed that he shouldn’t care about you as much as he did. Because why would you want someone like him? He was a fuck up before and after the serum and you deserved better. You always had deserved better.
When his cage had finally opened your name had been on his lips. He was ready to see you again, tell you how sorry he was, and how much he loved you. He hoped that it was you finally coming to take him away, but it wasn’t.
Y/n said she never wanted to see you again. Of course it wasn’t her.
He sighs and takes a bite of cheeseburger. His first one in 40 years, that the British fuck had gotten him, but it tastes like sandpaper, because he can't focus on anything but you.
"Well we know a few of your old team members are already dead." Butcher breezes pacing in the dingy motel room. "Countess, Gunpowder, Indigo-"
Ben reaches for his knife to grind up the oxy on the table in front of him, hoping that the pills will bring more relief than the whiskey.
It had been three days since he got out of Russia. Two since he visited Legend, when Legend told him that you were dead and Ben threw Legend's red armchair through the window of his apartment.
When Legend said it, Ben couldn't breathe, couldn't grasp that you were really gone. He didn't want to believe it.
You were all he thought the past 40 years, you were the only reason why he wanted to get the fuck out of Russia. He hated himself for what he had done, felt that he deserved the torture, but it was nothing compared to how he had tortured himself over the years.
The last thing he said to you often replayed in his mind and the way you looked when he said it burned against his eyes at night. He hadn't meant to hurt you, he didn't want to hurt you, never did. You were his oldest friend, the only person he knew that could be honest with him, call him out on all his shit, the only person who knew the real him, and the only person he could trust to be the voice of reason when he lost his temper.
And he threw you away like you meant nothing to him, when you were the only person who meant everything, the one person that he actually gave a fuck about.
Ben thought about your last night together often, remembered the dinner in the little restaurant when you wore a dress the color of his suit and looked more beautiful than he'd ever seen you as you danced to the song that always made him think of you. Remembered how he felt when he finally took you to bed, how each time you cried out his name it made him feel proud that it was him making you feel that way, that you wanted him as much as he had wanted you for so long.
Of course, then the memory of the next morning broke in his mind. When he woke up before you and held you closer than he'd held anyone else, slowly stroking your back and watching the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you slept and allowing himself to feel at peace. He couldn��t stop smiling in that moment because you genuinely wanted him to hold you close to him. When he woke up with you in his arms when you were children he feared that you wouldn’t want him to hold you, so he always pulled away, afraid of the rejection. He felt rejection from his father, but Ben knew that if you ever rejected him he wouldn't recover.
And then I rejected her, like a dumb fuck.
Ben was not a cuddler, he didn't think it was manly, but being there with you the morning after was different, and he believed he could have laid there for eternity listening to the soft beat of your heart where you rested against his chest and watch the gentle rise and fall of your body as you breathed. He had trailed his fingers along your spine as you laid on his chest, happy for the first time in his life.
When you told him that you loved him, he had been stunned. He remembered the soft blush of your cheeks and wide smile as you said it. He had wanted to say it back, to hear you say it once more, and to make love to you again while he said it- because he knew that’s what you had done together. He had fucked a lot of women, but that night with you was different, he cared how you felt, wanted it to be good for you, wanted to be everything you needed.
But the thought of you loving him scared him.
As much as it made him a pussy, Ben understood that it scared him.
You shouldn't love him because he didn't think that he could be what you wanted, that after all these years he couldn't be enough for you, and he believed that he shouldn't care for anyone as much as he did for you, because that meant weakness. That meant that every time you were on a mission together he would have to worry about you more than anything else. And Soldier Boy couldn't be weak.
So he pushed you away and ran to Countess. Ben's jaw tightens.
The psychotic bitch that sold me out. 
It had surprised him, how recently she had died. Butcher hadn't taken responsibility for it as he had for Gunpowder, which made Ben curious as to who had done it.
"Are you sure that Indigo is dead?" Ben asks taking another bite of the hamburger, but it still tastes like nothing.
He wondered if that was because you were gone and then wondered if he'd ever be able to taste anything ever again.
"What?" Hughie looks up from his bag of food. "Why would you think that?"
"Countess. Y/n hated her." Ben takes a swig from the bottle of whiskey on the table to try and dissipate some of the sadness he felt when he thought of you being gone. "Who told you that y/n was dead?"
"Her daughter." Hughie answers.
Ben freezes, his muscles tightening as a sickening feeling rises in the pit of his stomach. "She-she had a kid?" The thought made jealousy burn in his chest. Someone else had loved you, someone else had been man enough to say the thing that kept him up at night.
Of course she had a kid. She said she wanted a family. I was just too fucking stupid and couldn't admit that I wanted to give her that, to give her anything she wanted because I fucking love her. Did I really think she was going to wait for me? After everything I did to her? After everything I said? 
"Yeah-" Butcher shrugs. "Spitting image of her."
"She looks like her?" The thought of seeing you smile again makes something stir in his chest.
But it wouldn't be y/n. Ben reasons to himself. Because she’s gone.
His hand tightens on the bottle of whiskey and he’s surprised it doesn’t shatter in his hand as a wave of sadness comes over him. The memory of you and him at Fairmount Park, when you painted him briefly flashes across his mind and he allows himself to bask in your smile for a few fleeting moments before it’s gone. It makes him feel like he’d taken a knife to the chest at the thought that he’d never see it again and never hear you laugh.
"Yeah. Calls herself the same thing." Butcher continues.
"I want to meet her." Ben states taking one last drag of whiskey from the bottle.
"What?" Hughie chokes on his food.
Ben stands up. "I want to meet her. Where is she?"
"Oi, I don't think that's a good idea. She didn't really seem too keen on seeing you-"
"What do you mean?" Ben spits back, eyes narrowing.
Hughie shifts in his seat uncomfortably and Ben can hear Hughie's heartbeat quicken in fear.
"Don't be a pussy and just tell me." Ben snaps, becoming angry.
"She didn't want to talk too much about her mom. But she did mention how upset her mom was with you." Hughie states.
Ben felt the memories of the past creep up on him again.
Of course she was upset.
He remembered how broken you had looked the night you caught him and Countess. The look on your face forever sealed in his memory. He’d never seen you look so small. Honestly he was surprised that you hadn’t killed Countess that night. If he had walked in on anybody fucking you after the night you shared together, he knew that he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from killing them.
Because you were his.
He thinks about Howard briefly. Ben had almost killed him before you were supes when he called you his at the dance. It was also difficult to walk away when Howard hurt you.
Ben’s thoughts drift back to Countess. Her body had been burned beyond recognition, but her head was no longer attached. It would have taken an extreme amount of force for someone to do that.
Could she still be alive?
Ben thought about your ability. He was the only one who knew what it really was, that you didn't just come back from the dead, that your body was able to take the power of any supe that killed you. It made you incredibly indestructible, more invulnerable than him, even though he didn't want to admit that. He liked the thought that he was stronger than you because it meant that you needed him to protect you. He liked the thought that you needed him.
The day you both figured it out momentarily dances across his mind, making him tighten his jaw.
He remembered the sound of the gun and how you immediately pushed him out of the way to take the bullet for him, because you didn't know he was bulletproof and your gut reaction was to protect him.
Ben remembered how he held you when you took your last breath, watched the fear and pain in your eyes, mirrored in his own body at the thought of losing you, of trying to exist in a world where you weren't there. It was how he felt now.
Purposeless.
He remembered the broken feeling that rose in his chest when he heard your heart beat for the last time and how he begged internally for you to come back to him, because he didn't want to live if it meant losing you. He remembered gently brushing your hair back from your face as relief swelled in his chest when you came back and he clung to you like you had been gone a millennia. Of course after he had yelled at you for being so stupid, for putting yourself in that situation, tried to act like he didn't care as much as he did, but you'd only yelled back and refused to listen to him.
She was just so damn stubborn all the time.
"I don't care. I want to talk to her." Ben grabs the black leather coat that Butcher brought him and changes into a dark t-shirt and a pair of jeans. "Take me to her."
Butcher rolls his eyes. "Well, she did call the other day and say that she had some information for me." Butcher shrugs. "Let's go."
"But-" Hughie interjects.
"Oi Hughie. Calm down."
"She lost her mother. I don't think she wants any reminders of that."
"I promise I'll be gentle, cupcake." Ben rolls his eyes and pushes past Hughie to the door, the thought of seeing you again or just someone who shared your face enough to make him feel something for the first time in forty years.
***************************************************
"Oi, Y/n you in there." Butcher presses the call button on the outside wall of the brick apartment building.
Ben looks up and down the street, noting the people who are walking down the cracked sidewalks. It was weird to be back in New York, to be in a city that he lived in for so long and feel out of place. Hughie had tried to explain some things to him about the new century, but Ben was still confused, and honestly he didn’t care. The only thing he could focus on was you and the possibility of you living here.
Not you. He corrected. But maybe. He still didn't quite believe that you were dead, that you could die.
A minute passes and Ben is tired of waiting. He confidently walks up to the glass front door, and pulls with  enough of his superstrength to break the lock and open it.
"What are you doing?" Hughie whispers following behind him, but Ben ignores the question strutting straight to the stairwell.
"What floor?"
"8th." Butcher says.
When they finally reach your door Ben pauses. He's not sure if he can look you in the eye, not after all of these years, if it really is you. And if it wasn't then what? What would I say to her daughter?
The thought makes the fear that he refuses to acknowledge grip his chest, the fear that you were dead followed by the feeling of purposelessness that seemed to follow him since he heard the news.
If it is her daughter, maybe she’ll tell me if y/n suffered, if she died thinking that I hated her.
The memory of the fight stirs in his chest as Butcher knocks on the door and waits. But nobody answers.
"Must not be home." Hughie shrugs. "We could call her-" He begins to say, but Butcher deftly picks the lock and the door swings open into the darkness.
As soon as Butcher opens the front door of the apartment and Ben steps through, all he smells is you. It's enough to confirm in his heart that it is you and not your daughter. He felt something in his chest stutter to a halt as he inhales the familiar scent of lavender and lemons. It was everywhere, all around him, flooding his senses. 
And for the first time in forty years he felt comfort, at peace. For a moment all thoughts of revenge, rage, and justice fades from his mind and he is left with the memory of you.
Ben immediately is transported back to those quiet moments when he settled into bed next to you after climbing through your window. When you would fall asleep before him and curl against him subconsciously, your hair tickling his cheeks and sending the soft smell over him. The nights when he’d wrap his arm around you as soon as you fell asleep because he was afraid to do it when you were awake, afraid that you would reject him like so many others did. Those nights with you outweighed any other time in his life. He remembered that each time he crawled through your window you smiled up at him, were happy to see him, so different than the home he left behind, where his father wouldn't look at him.
He remembered the nights after you took Compound V, when even after a hard day when he was a dick, you still allowed him into your bed, allowed him to sleep next to you. Those quiet moments in the late hours of the morning when you cuddled into his side and muttered words in your sleep that he couldn’t understand all the while he brushed your hair back from your face stayed with him. As much as he refused to admit to anyone, refused to show any emotion, being there with you, felt more like home than anywhere else.
That's why he asked you to come with him in the first place. He couldn't leave you behind. Maybe that was selfish of him, but he would not pretend to be unselfish, not when it came to you.
He thinks about all the suitors that he scared away before him and you left Philadelphia, all his friends who expressed interest in you only to have him drive them away, and of course the one that wouldn't leave. The one that bought you jewelry and finally asked you to marry him, another reason why Ben convinced you to come with him.
The jealousy was familiar. Ben didn't want to leave you behind, the thought that some other man would possess you or love you made his chest hurt. You were his. No one felt the way about you that he did, never would. No one would know you, care about you or understand you like he did, and no one knew you as long as he did. And although Ben had trouble expressing it, he knew that he loved you, he hated himself for being unable to say it. He couldn’t decide if admitting that he loved you made him a pussy or it was his fear of telling you that made him one.
Ben looks around the apartment, noticing the artwork on the walls, the messy studio table, and smiles. He remembered the way you always had a sketchbook with you, he used to tease you about it,  but you would only roll your eyes at him and continue to draw. He loved watching you sketch, watching how focused you were as you created something so effortlessly. He remembered watching you paint with the watercolors he got you, feeling a swell of pride that he was the one who started that love. Ben had been afraid to give them to you, afraid that it was too thoughtful, but then he remembered how widely you smiled, how happy you had been.
The apartment felt like you.
And by now again he knows that it is you and perhaps that's worse, because now he has to face you and he doesn't know how to fix this, any of it.
You weren’t like him or anyone else. You didn’t bend under easy promises and gifts like the other women he had been with over the years. Your ability to read him and understand him meant that you were special. And you were. You were special to him.
He moves forward towards the darkened hallway.
"Hey wait-" He hears Hughie say behind him, but Ben ignores him.
Ben finds your bedroom easily and the smell grows when he opens the door. He takes in the controlled chaos of the room before his eyes fall on the suitcase on the large bed.
Where was she going?
Ben pulls your supe suit out of the bag and smiles at the memory of the day you first tried it on. You never wore anything form fitting, hid your shape under shirts and pants, but the day he saw you in this for the first time made his breath catch in his chest. He knew that you thought you were fat, but Ben never believed that. He loved every curve of your body, loved to trace them with his eyes when you weren’t looking  and when you finally let him take you to bed, his hands. Seeing you in the suit for the first time was almost enough to push him over the edge, but he kept it together.
He notices the plane ticket on the edge of the bed, beneath the bag, and he pulls out the printed piece of paper, reading the fine print.
She was going to Russia. She was going to come get me even after I-
The emotion that rises in Ben's chest is unfamiliar. He did not like giving in to emotions the same way others did because he believed that made him weak, a lesson his father had ingrained into his mind. But this time he doesn't attempt to push it down. The plane ticket crumples in his hand as his jaw clenches tight. A part of him was relieved, relieved to know that somewhere deep down you still cared about him, maybe that meant that you would be willing to see him.
But he still didn’t know how to fix this. He'd never been good with words or apologizing or, well, love in general. He’d never loved anyone before you. He frowns at the thought of all the meaningless flings he'd had in the past. There was only one relationship with a woman he'd ever been in, with you, and he'd fucked it all up.
He kneels and reaches under your bed, looking for the box he knows will be there. It's a dark rosewood, one from your bedroom when you were a kid, but now it holds a different value. Ben sits on the end of your bed and opens it.
He had caught you with it a few times, usually when you started drinking or on your birthday, always on your birthday. It's why he never let you stay at home, he made sure you came out with him, because your mind would drift when you were alone and Ben didn't like the dark places it took you.
Ben rarely liked leaving you alone. Whenever he was on movie shoots in another country he would call you just to hear your voice, and even when he went to bed with someone else and they fell asleep he would stay up thinking of you, wondering if you missed him as much as he missed you, and wondering if you could sleep without him because he couldn’t sleep without you. Another reason why he pushed you away, believing that it made him weak.
The photo on top is unfamiliar to him, it's newer, and shows you standing with a young brunette woman outside of a college dorm. He traces the lines of your face with his thumb. He hadn't seen a picture of you in forty years, but you were just as beautiful as he remembered. The one that follows is also unfamiliar, you holding a baby wrapped in a pink blanket, the baby’s hand wrapped around your index finger, and you looking down at it like it's your whole world.
The look in your eyes does something to him. He remembered when you looked at him like that, the morning when you woke up next to him and whispered those four little words to him that he always wanted to hear while holding his face tenderly between your palms, "I love you Ben."
When things got bad in Russia he would strain to remember the memory, remember the way you looked at him, the way the words sounded falling from your lips. The words that he always wanted to hear you say. The morning that he wished he could change and the disastrous night he wished never happened.
"We shouldn't be here." Hughie says to Butcher in the living room.
"She ain't home. We'll go when he wants to leave." Ben hears Butcher respond.
But Ben knew that he didn't want to leave, wouldn't want to leave. He had spent the past forty years away from you and he didn't want to spend anymore time apart from you, even if that made him a pussy, he didn't care.
"This isn't a good idea. Y/n didn't want him here-" Hughie tries again
"Oi, look at this. She's looking at flights." Butcher states, when he notices the laptop on the counter.
"What?" Hughie asks.
"If it ain't her, how would she know about Russia?" Butcher says back. Ben hears a rustling like Butcher is going through the trashcan “And take a look at this-“
Ben shuts out their conversation and pulls other photos out, finally pulling out strip of paper from a Photo Booth. It was the day he took you to a baseball game,  before you were supes. You’d never been to one before and Ben had only been to the one his father took him to, when his dad got drunk and forgot Ben was with him. Ben frowns for a second but then looks back at the collection of photos on the strip. It was a good day. He had bought you a ridiculous hat, and you'd sat next to him looking radiant in the sunlight like you always did sketching him. Ben loved it when you drew him, it made him happy to know that when you looked through the pages of your sketchbook later that you were thinking of him. He often wondered if you thought of him as much as he thought of you. You'd both gotten drunk on cheap beer and when a woman yelled at you for being unladylike you flipped her the bird and said some choice words that made the tips of the woman’s ears turn pink.
Ben loved that about you, that you never seemed to care what others thought of you, especially your friendship with him. Everyone you knew had told you to keep a wide berth from him, but you didn’t listen.
Ben traces your young face in the photo with his fingertip.
Maybe she should have.
He turns back and pulls out a yellowed photo of you and your mother. Ben frowns at the expression on your face. You were never happy when she was around. He hated your mother, not just because she hated him, but he hated what she did to you. He hated that she made you feel ugly, when you were the most beautiful woman that he'd ever seen. Even as teenagers, Ben couldn’t help but notice how pretty your figure was and how you filled out the soft dresses you wore when you went with him on adventures through the city. He never thought you were too fat, if anything he liked your curves. The night you were finally together he worshipped them, wanted you to know that you were beautiful, to understand that he saw your beauty, because he knew that you still thought about what your mother said to you. He hated that she had such a hold on your life even though she had been dead for so long.
He hears a rattle along the bottom of the box and when he picks up the source of the noise he immediately wishes he hadn't.  It's a single pearl, and Ben understands what it's from. It's from the necklace he bought you for your birthday, the one that you ripped off your neck when you found him with Countess. He had agonized over whether or not to get it for you, thought that maybe it was too thoughtful or rather was too romantic. But the look on your face when you opened the box made him feel like he’d swallowed the sun.
Ben's teeth clench together as a wave of guilt crashes over him remembering what he yelled at you, remembering what he did to you. He thought that it had been what he needed to do, that he needed to push you away because he didn't want to care about anyone else, at least not the way he cared about you.
He hadn’t thought it would hurt as much to say those things to you, but it had all but ripped his own heart out.
But even before you found them together all Ben felt was guilt. He wasn’t enjoying anything he was doing to Countess, all he wanted was to do those things with you. He thought it was necessary, that by doing those things with her he could somehow clear his head of you, but all it did was make him feel guilty and want you more.
He thinks about the days that followed before his mission in Nicaragua, when he agonized over calling you, over showing up to your apartment, but he couldn't. He couldn't face you.  He hadn't been able to sleep those nights before the mission and wanted desperately for you to be there with him.  Ben couldn't sleep when you weren’t with him. He hated that he'd finally gotten you and then lost you so quickly.
Ben notices a velvet box, and he sighs when he opens it. It's an engagement ring, the engagement ring that you showed him the night he asked you to come with him.
He briefly wonders if you thought that was his version of a proposal. That you believed, turning your back on your family and coming with him meant more.
I’m such a fucking idiot. I should’ve-
“It really is a shitty ring.” He mutters. And it was, it was all wrong for you. Ben knew what you liked and he couldn’t believe that this was what that asshole got you.
Why did she keep it? Because she wanted to remember what her life could have been like if I didn’t ask her to come?
Ben remembers when he asked you if he ruined your life, before everything exploded. He imagined that after that night you changed your answer, because how could you look at him, let alone want to be around him after what he did to you?
Ben examines the ring again allowing the memory of the night you showed it to him push its way into his mind. He remembered being scared, of course he’d never admit that, he wasn’t a pussy, but he acutely remembered the moment you showed it to him. The fear of losing you that struck him when he noticed it on your finger, as the weight of what it represented settled on his shoulders. He knew that the asshole who proposed would quickly turn you against him, and this time you’d believe it because you loved that dick or-
Ben reconsidered. She didn’t love him because she came with you. She loved you.
He remembers again what it was like to be with you in  bed, when you whispered those words so tenderly to him and is struck with guilt all over again.
You had looked almost sheepish when you showed me the ring, like you were afraid to tell me-
Of course she was afraid to tell you. She wanted you to propose but you didn’t instead you fucking ruined her life and strung her along for 40 fucking years-
He never understood how you did that. Survived all those years with him while he fucked his way through everything that crossed his path. How you continued to stand by him when he was a dick to you and so many others. And yet you never let any other man into your life.
He remembers the night after you got between him and Noir, remembers asking you if you wanted to marry Howard, but you said no. The other things you said struck something within him. When you said you wanted someone to come home to, someone who would love you, a family. He remembers how you looked the night of your birthday in the restaurant, how you watched the couples around your table and smiled. He knew what you were thinking, and he had tried to show you that he could be that for you by taking your hand where it rested on the table even though it went against every instinct he had. He wanted so badly to give you those things, to make you happy. Ben didn’t want you to find that with anyone else. He would have loved to have a family with you, to be with you always the way you were always there for him, or were until he fucked it all up. He remembers asking you to marry him, apart of it had been a joke, just to gauge your reaction, but deep down he was curious. He hadn't expected it to hurt so much when you laughed him off.
Ben sighs. When you spoke about leaving Payback he was worried, worried that it meant you would leave him too and then who would he have? No one. It’s why he spent so many nights in your bed, with you curled up beside him. He didn’t want to be anywhere else.
He shuts the ring box with a snap and throws it back inside. The memory of the night you spent together is just on the edge begging to be let in. Ben indulged in that memory many times over the years, letting it strengthen him. Remembered every detail. It was the first time that he actually cared what someone else wanted in bed. He remembered how your cheeks blushed when you told him that you’d never had sex before and how you said that you wanted it to be him. He never imagined that you would want him the same way that he’d wanted you all those years.The exact reason why he drowned himself in so many other women, because he thought that’s what he needed to do. Because you deserved someone better than him, you always had.
The thought is immediately followed by what he yelled at you in the bathroom at the premiere, when he turned something that you believed to be special, one of the happiest nights of his life, into a cheap fuck.
He remembered the broken expression on your face. He'd never seen you look so small. Ben always admired how strong you were, but as soon as he said those things to you, he watched you crumble when he broke your heart.
Worse still was when he grabbed you. He fights the shudder, remembering how he grabbed onto your arms. As many times as you’d stood between him and the source of his anger, he’d never laid a hand on you but that night, he was just so damn frustrated. You were looking at him with those big eyes of yours that always saw through him, understood him, and he was frustrated because he wanted to tell you that he loved you that he always had loved you but he couldn’t. He couldn’t admit it because he was a man and damn it a man didn’t show emotions and he was Soldier Boy he didn’t need anyone-
His jaw clenches together so tight that he hears the click of his teeth.
But he did. He knew that all he needed was you.
I’m such a fucking asshole. Y/n doesn’t need me and I don’t deserve her-
Ben raises his head to look at your bedroom door as he hears the front door of your apartment swing open. And he freezes.
Because why would you want to see him? He had ruined your life.
***************************************
A/N: Alright everybody we made it to the chapter right before the reunion!!! What will happen? Will she forgive him? Who knows?! Even me, honestly. 😂
Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to my taglist, please let me know. :)
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zepskies · 5 hours
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hi ♡ can i request Soldier Boy finding out female!reader had something with Frenchie? Like years before meeting him 👀
You requested this a million years ago (July), but I was finally able to get to this one. Look out for a new Soldier Boy imagine in the near future! 😉
Imagine: Ben getting jealous over your past relationship with Frenchie.
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Coming soon...
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soldirboy · 1 day
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PROTECT ME FROM WHAT I WANT
Summary: You're working with Butcher and his team since your sister has died in a plane crash caused by Homelander and months later, you met Soldier Boy. Drown between hatred and your desire to have your vengence, you have to face your feelings for Soldier Boy eventually.
Pairing: Soldier Boy / Female!Reader
Warnings: Angst, Hurt, Language, Soldier Boy being an asshole, grief, family issues, mention of death, cursing, mention of drugs, unrequited love
Word Count: 2113
A/N: English is not my first language. *We die like men*
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Chapter 1: Don’t try to fight the storm, you’ll tumble overboard
Its been a year since the greatest supe ever known of America has woken from his 40 years of sleep and it did not even took a big amount of time your thoughts to revolve around him only. Oppressed with grief, your life was consuming you inside since your sister has died in a plane crash caused by Homelander. It changed many things. It made Butcher and his team to found you, turned you into something you couldn't name it anymore. Each passing day was the same. You were and all alone with despair when darkness took over the daylight; you knew you did not even mourn properly for your sister. What's worse was that you had a fought just before the flight. Funny, that was the only time you two had a fight in twenty three years and it was over for nothing. Time heals, they say. They are all wrong. It won't heal a shit till it kills and throws you away with one last heavy strike.
The day you rescued Soldier Boy was definitely a hard day to forget. He looked like an unleashed savage confused animal freed from a cage. Actually, he was literally something like that. Ben was so hard to control. Besides, the worst thing about himself was not his character; it was his erratic nuclear muscled chest ready to blow up anytime. It was a hidden menace under his thick skin.
At first, you weren't so sure if Homelander or Ben was worse. Probably both were pure supe evils in their own unique way. After all, intentionally or unintentionally, they both hurt many people.
All things aside, at least you were certain about one thing you truly craved for. The only thing. Homelander must die.
Walking on tiptoe, your heart was beating fast and it was not the first time. Your palm was sweaty around the pistol and your knuckles probably turned white. No need to be humble, you were a good shooter, a very good one, but you weren't sure if you could aim right to the eyes of the supe you were looking for when the right time comes. Ben gave you the big eye, almost chuckled. You knew his senses as a supe were highly developed and that made things embarrassing for you. In addition, the house being so silent and dark was another problem.
You did not know when that all these things started; when he made you feel such things. Maybe it was just a silly and temporary crush to disappear sooner or later. However, as time passed, the way you react around him just grew irrevocably stronger. It was getting out of hand or already did. You hated that feeling, but loved it, also despised it and obsessed with it. He was hard to ignore in every way, especially when he was that heart wrenchingly handsome.
“Hey,” he said mockinly. “Why so excited suddenly?”
You were both grateful and angry to Butcher for leaving you alone with Ben in such a place like this. You were chosen to work with Ben most of time since he broke Hughie's arm, got a fight with Annie, Frenchie and threw Butcher to the tree,-lucky of him he was on Compound V- so, no one wanted to spend a single second with him. Especially Hughie was scared as fuck of him.
The only one who did not have a fight with Ben was Kimiko as she never said a word at all that could make him mad in any way. Though you knew Kimiko was even more savage talking to Ben with sign language, you never dared or needed to translate her words directly.
Checking around nervously you took a deep breath. “I am not excited.”
“Don't worry, it's not a big deal,” he continued ignoring what you've just said. “I am used to such things.”
“What things?”
“You know,” he sighed. “Knowing that the strongest supe in the world with you right now in this house and all alone got you wet. I’m sure your clit is flickring with such exciment you might cum any moment..”
Judging by the look on his face as he went on acting his fingers obcenely and not stopping talking in an unappropiate way, he was amused. You just wanted to shut his voice completely down. He was not familiar with embarrassment at all. Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes waiting for him to finish his pornographic ted talk.
Taking back some steps from him “Have you totally lost your mind? Every single thing you say is so gross and nasty,” you finally said. “You're so delusional you should have been an author.”
It wasn't the first time he teased you. His choice of words was getting more obscene each time even though you never took them seriously. The things he said caused pathetic butterflies to punch your stomach hard. But you knew Ben was being like this to everyone. It was in his nature after all.
“Say delusional one more time and see what happens.” His sharpened eyes were fixed on you.
Fuck Butcher.
“Ben,” you whispered nervously. You got closer to him and touched his chest hesitantly.It would be a terrible idea to get on Ben's sensitive nerves. It would be easier if Butcher was there. “Are you on coke?”
“Course I am.”
Pushing your hands away from his chest with a rough move, Ben looked around cautiously searching for any sign of the supe.
You followed his footsteps. “Do you hear anything?”
“No.”
Stopping for a moment, you sighed. You did not want to push his buttons any further. “Is it true that this Supe can play with memories? Does she change them? Like mind control?”
“Worse.”
You felt his posture suddenly got serious.
“How?”
“The slut has a strange talent that can make you see stupid things, things you desire the most. They’re all fake and all made up stuff. Total bullshit.”
“What happens if you see them though?”
“It’s impossible to wake up if you are a little pussy. You'd trap like a rat driven by pathetic fake scenarios just because your little brain is a weak shithole and you’re just too scared to face the reality. That’s it."
The way he sounded made you even more curious.
“You sound like you experienced it,” you said raising your eyebrows.
Judging by the way sounded, you were sure he experienced every single thing he mentioned. But what could be Soldier Boy's nightmare or dream? You were dying to know what he desired the most. What on earth would be his dream? He always looked so confident and sure of himself, it was like there would be nothing in the world he would ever desire. Of course It would be Crimson Cuntess. Remembering the way he looked at her with disappointment made your stomach crumble in pain and despair.
“Absolutely nothing,” he insisted. “Only pussies desire things they can't get, right? I am smart and I can get whatever I want, sweetheart.”
“I thought it would be Crimson Countess,” you murmered hoping he would not get mad. You needed him to deny it so bad.
Looking at him with pleading eyes and waiting patiently, he looked genuinely lost in thoughts for a moment.
“Jealous?”
Looking away, you said “Why on earth would I be jealous?” You would make him believe you easily if you did not sound that needy and wasn't flushed. You could never be completely honest with him. How could you?
Putting his left hand on your chin sofly, he murmured. “You’re so obvious.. Do you really think I’m not aware the way you look at me?”
With a heavy heart, you looked up at him with beseeching eyes.
“I dont understand what you mean at all.”
“You do,” he insisted indifferently. “I know, you wish you were her, I know you’re so envious of her that you would even let me fuck you as I like it if I made a move, right?” he paused and snickered. Your heartbeat skipped at his harsh words.
You made a move to get away from him, but his grip on your chin tightened hard enough to hurt, so you stopped moving surrending his cruelty for a moment to catch your breath and let him do whatever he had on his mind.
Despite his roughness, you put your hand on his daring one softly, savoring his touch unintentionally as you try to push him away with helpless and meaningless attempts, hoping to show your affection for him. He didn’t make a move. Getting even closer, his broad chest touched yours ungently. Ben curled his lips into a mischievous smile and lowered his hand to where your heart is. When you felt his forearm touched your nipple, you gasped for breath and struggled determinedly not to melt into his warm touch.
Knowing his hand could easily rip your heart from your chest in a second should have been enough to take him out from your heart and mind right there, but it was always easier to blame destiny and the others for what happened and is about to happen. Moreover, him being that dominant, confident and powerful made your stomach curl in excitement.
“You’re wrong, Ben,” you denied.
You were angry at yourself for being like this, feeling that way. Between all things..your sister and everything happened in the last few months, you let your thoughts to be driven into something you should stay away from in the very first place. Coming to your senses and accepting the truth about yourself hurt more than Ben’s words. You could never be at his level, but you let your fantasies to took over your logic.
As you struggled not melting into his touch, you tried harder to get away from him and hoping it convince him, you mumbled “You’re hurting me.”
His grasp was indeed firm, but it did not hurt at all. You just wanted to save yourself from intensity of his seductive presence since you did not know if you could resist this irresistible pull one more minute.
He pulled away his hands on you, but remained still.
“How you fucking normals can endure being that weak, huh? You know I could kill you without even using half my strength, right? It must be taking a great energy and luck to survive.” he said mockingly.
You wanted to say he was nothing without Compound V in his veins, that he wasn’t naturally the strongest, but a made up product. However, it wouldn’t be smart at all to say such thing. Supes were not known with reasonable conversations and handling criticism. Maybe, Supes were physically the strongest breed whose emotional and narcissistic fragility suppressed under their thick skin. And Ben’s short temper wasn’t something you’d want to face with.
You both jumped when a noise coming from the second floor filled the house. Ben’s eyes were down. He was probably nervous considering potentially to being put in long sleep by the Supe. Unlike Ben, you took a step right to the stairs, tightning your grasp on the pistol and holding your breath.
“Be fucking slow,” he warned you, but it was more like he meant to threaten you.
You turned to him and whispered “Hey, who’s being a pussy right now?”
“Don’t fucking provoke me.”
“Hey,” you gave him a playful wink. “I’ll always protect you.”
Just before he say something, you’ve seen the Supe’s dark figure behind Ben. Your eyes fixed on each other. His body tensed with anger as his patience grew thin. He was about to lose his temper knowing he should kill her without meeting the eye of the fucking bitch. He simply just did not know how to do. Before he turned around, you shot at the darkness randomly, trying to stir panic in the supe. Darkness of the room was in your favor until you met the heinous eyes of the supe just before Ben caught and slammed her on the floor with a furious growling.
A/N: I'm not built for this.
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syrma-sensei · 7 months
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→ Hot Under The Helmet.
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gif credit
pairing: soldier boy/ben x wife!reader.
rating: explicit.
warning: ben's pov, horny and angry ben, dom/sub undertones, aggressive sex, piv, fingering, oral (female receiving), breeding kink, glove kink, eventual fluff, antiquated mentality...
word count: 2.2k
summary: fucking his wife is the best way to ease his mind.
taglist: @zepskies, @deansbbyx, @kaleldobrev, @k-slla, @deanbrainrotwritings, @deans-spinster-witch, @homosexualferret...
→ masterlist | ao3
Soldier Boy didn't head back to his quarters in Vought's tower when the damned mission was over. He didn't want to spend another minute with his pathetic excuse of a fucking team nor did he want to be in the tower. He scoffed. A bunch of fucking clowns in a fucking circus. Sometimes he wondered if Vought picked them on purpose for the sake of insulting him and his legacy.
Instead, Soldier Boy made his way straight back home. He'd been on duty for a couple of weeks, accompanied with his teammates and other government soldiers as a backup to their mission — not that he needed either but protocols and marketing and Vought's bullshit.
Long story short, and as expected, The Twins fucked up, Noir tried to be the hero of the day, Swatto a fucking idiot, Mind Storm and Gunpowder fucking useless, Countess a fucking bitch. He had to handle it all by himself and fix everything his teammates dicked with. And he was pissed. Fuming. Raging. All he was seeing was red. And he could do nothing about it.
When Vought promised him a team to lead, he expected to have seasoned soldiers who knew how shit was done. Warriors who respected the missions and honoured their duty and privileged their country. Instead, he got fucking spoiled children to babysit. He wasn't in charge. The irony. His fucking helmet of forty years of dedication and service for this country granted him no say at the matter. It was fine, he'd tried to convince himself. He took it upon himself to train them and mould them into formidable soldiers like he was but to no avail. The fucking idiots thought the job was only to wave their hands and pose for fucking cameras at movie premieres!
Soldier Boy grumbled when he stepped inside one of his many properties. The one he shared with his wife. Their penthouse; their home. His pretty, little wife. He let a small smile slip into his lips when a mix of aromatic whiffs permeated his nostrils, his superhuman sense of smell enhanced the savoury scent. His stomach grumbled. Fuck did he really miss his wife's delicious cooking. Suddenly, his fury began to cease. Soldier Boy clicked his helmet off of his head absent-mindedly and set his shield aside before his lips quirked into a wicked grin.
It'd been a fucking fortnight since he saw her. Touched her. Fucked her. He was surrounded by dicks for far too long, and he craved pussy. Her pussy. He was consumed by the urge of destroying her cunt. And she'd love it. She'd always had. She liked it rough. She liked him ruining her, and leaving her unable to sit right for days. And she even dared to chide him when he went easy on her at the beginning of their relationship.
“I'm not fucking fragile, Ben. Don't you hold back.” She'd told him.
He smirked. She had no idea what he had in store for her tonight.
With many many years of experience under his belt, Soldier Boy stealthed his way to the kitchen where his wife was swaying her hips and humming a song as she bent over to check on the ribs she was roasting in the oven. Ben smiled proudly. He never let her do that job. The grilling. It was a man's job, the husband's job. So, to accommodate his wishes, she came up with this idea. To cook that kinda food in other ways. And being the expert cook she was, she did it extraordinarily.
His dulled eyes came to life with a lick of lust swirling within the green of his eyes when he traced the curve of her perfect ass. Fuck, his trousers began to feel too tight to his liking. Little did she know that she had a stirred brute standing behind her, waiting for the right moment to pounce on his prey.
Turning on her heels gracefully, a surprised gasp escaped her throat when her dilated eyes landed on her beloved husband. He was still in his supe gear except for his helmet and shield.
“Ben!” She trilled with a big smile, trying to balance herself from the surprise; he was hours early, “Welcome back, honey! Didn't think you'd be early—”
He cut her off with a burning kiss. Hungry and possessive. How he could cross the kitchen to her in such agility was still behind her. He smelled like earth and dust, blood and sweat. He smelled like a man should. Like a soldier should. Her core throbbed at his virile odour. His stubble grew bigger, and she liked how it brushed coarsely against her palms when she cupped his cheeks to kiss him back. She giggled against his mouth when his strong hands grasped her waist and lifted her up effortlessly and sat her at the countertop.
She clung to his neck, their kiss nourishing with vigour. His lips left hers temporarily to loosen her apron and toss it aside, then he removed her blouse and unclasped her bra. Ben crushed her lips again, his rough-padded hands kneading her tits, thumbs aggressively flicking her hardening nipples. His thumbnails grazing crescents on her darkening areolas. Ben's lips split mischievously when she let a wanton moan. His grin widened when the smell of her arousal reached his nose. Fuck. He loved it. He could already taste that on his tongue.
“Fuck, Ben!” She groaned when one of his hands trailed down to her shorts and slipped beneath her panties. He smirked when she instantly smeared his fingertips wet with her arousal. He let his gloves on; he knew she loved it when his gloved fingers fucked her relentlessly. She liked it when they were knuckles-deep inside of her, with the rims of his fingerless gloves grazing her clit. The little slut. She also liked when he fucked her in his supe suit. She took pleasure in submitting to his power. To him. He was a man worth submitting to after all, and he'd earned hers.
“Hmh, those fourteen days were rough on you, weren't they, baby girl?” He mocked, thick fingers spreading her folds open roughly. He loved to tease her and turn her into a mess. He relished in it.
She nodded hastily. It took a measured press of his thumb on her clit to turn her into putty in his hand. “Use your words, baby.”
“Y-Yes, Sir,” She whined, legs parting wider for him, “They were brutal.” She sobbed, burying her face in his powerful neck when he twisted his finger just right, her ankle snapped. He added another finger and she mewled.
“Ben, Ben! Sir, please!” She shrieked in delight, hands clutching at his gear. She gushed on his fingers and he fucked her through her high. He felt the tremble of legs. He was going to force another one from her. She should have asked for permission. She wasn't in control. He was.
She gasped when he didn't stop, “Ben, please don't—!” She squeezed her thighs shut, an attempt to cease the searing pleasure between her legs. His fingers were raw against her flesh. It brought tears to her eyes.
“Now you want me to stop?” He sneered with a drawl, curling a finger inside, her walls tightened in response. “Your pretty pussy doesn't.”
Her teeth sank into her lower lip, before she gazed up at him through half-hooded eyes, moaning, “Don't stop!”
Fuck, that shouldn't have surprised him. But it did. Fuck. She was really a slut. His pretty slut. She was practically inviting him to break her. Oh, he would. Deliciously so.
She squealed when he coaxed another orgasm from her. Begging him to fuck her more like a bitch in a heat.
“Holy fuck, baby, your pussy is squeezing my fingers tight!” He chuckled maliciously as he curled his knuckles again then pulled out.
With pearlescent tears adorning her eyes, she took his thumb into her mouth when he pressed it to her lips. Fuck, the way she twirled her tongue around his digit made him half-tempted to fuck her throat. He could do that later. Now, all he wanted was to fuck that needy, slutty pussy raw.
Ben shifted her up and flipped her on her stomach, her hot breasts squeezing against the cold marble. Shoving her shorts and panties down, he took in the sight of her ruined pussy. She was soaking, her arousal oozed from her opening down to her thighs in small rivulets. Unabashedly inviting him to feast on it. And how could he reject such an invitation? In a moment, he was on his knees, mouth wrapped around her slit, sipping from the sweet honey she had to offer. Seemed the act surprised her as she jerked in stupor with a squawk.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Her knuckles went white when she grabbed on the edges of the countertop as he ate her out like a man starved.
The new gruff hairs on his face burned deliciously against her skin as his tongue flicked assiduously against her swollen clit. He lapped her heat with a flattened tongue before invading her sensitive drawers, slurping her through the mess of her dew and his spit.
“Ben…I'm cumming again!” She tried to utter, but all that came out of her mouth was a broken whisper.
Smirking again, he unbridled the wonders his tongue could do, and she was undone again; his soddend beard was a proof of what he could do to her.
He licked her clean, and her overstimulated cunt shivered every time his tongue made contact with her flesh. She was trying to catch her breath up there, but he couldn't let her. He wasn't done with her yet. He had yet to be satisfied.
He heard her hum as she turned her face to make eye contact with him. A satiated look in her eyes as she smiled weakly at him.
“Ain't fair tho,” She croaked playfully.
He raised an eyebrow, “Hmm?”
Supporting herself with her arms, she managed to turn her body to face him, eyes immediately perching on the conspicuous bulge between his legs before her teeth dragged her lower lip inside her mouth.
“I'm naked, you're not.” Her hands trailed from his chest down to his zipper.
“Thought you liked me fucking you in this shit.” He drawled thickly as her nimble fingers undid his pants and freed his cock.
“God, you're so hard,” She giggled gleefully, “I do,” Her eyes flitted up to his face, “I like what kinda authority this suit holds. It's like fucking a god.”
His dick twitched painfully at her words. She was so good at this. He liked that about her. How she could tickle and caress his massive ego so easily. How good she made him feel so damn good about himself though he'd never admit that out loud. A god she wanted to fuck, then a god she would fuck.
His large hand roughly seized her jaws, her yelp was swallowed by his mouth. His dick was too eager to feel the warmth and wetness of her cunt as he plunged it inside of her.
“Oh, God!” She sang, her arms encircling his neck as he snapped his hips into her. Her hands fisted his short hair.
“No god, only me.” He groaned.
She cried his name as he bottomed out, he was fucking every ounce of anger out of his system on her. And she liked it. Her walls sucked him deeply, wanting more, and more he gave her.
He grumbled, “Gonna put a baby in you.” He wasn't asking. He was telling.
“Yes, Yes! Please make me a mommy!” Pride sprouted in his chest, and the immense feeling bolted down his spine and made his cock spring his load into her.
He didn't pull out right away, he waited for a few minutes. He didn't want his seed to spill out of her as much as appealing that would be to watch.
“You okay?” He asked her with concern.
“A bit thirsty, but I'm aces,” She blinked, sighing dreamily, “That was fucking sexy by the way.
He chuckled amusedly, reaching for the pot of water next to them and pouring her a glass, “The part you called me a god?”
She rolled her eyes as she gobbled down the water.
He arched his brow before whispering into her ear, “Roll your eyes at me like that again and I won't be letting you cum for a month.”
She choked on the water and he laughed deeply at her reddened face.
Suddenly, he became aware of the burning smell coming from the oven. She picked up on him sniffing and they looked at each other and say in unison, “The ribs!”
Her quiver didn't go unnoticed when he pulled out of her to let her check on the food cooking in the oven while he adjusted his clothes. He appreciated her nakedness in the kitchen, maybe he should ask her to wear nothing but an apron when she cooked. She'd look fucking sexy. His cock twitched at the idea.
His wife groaned in disappointment when she saw the ribs.
“Is it bad?” He asked, crouching next to her.
“It's way crispier than I intended.” A hand pressed to her forehead.
“I can handle crispier.”
“But, Ben, I wanted it to be perfect for you,” She whimpered and he smiled, “I know how much you like it.”
“Well, in your defence, happened when you were pretty busy serving me desserts before the main dish,” He winked.
She shook her head with a smile, “Y'know, you're surprisingly cheeky sometimes.”
“With you, I am.”
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julesthequirky · 5 months
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The Choice
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All my work is purely aimed at those 18+ so minors kindly, DNI.
Summary: You find three of your favourite characters in your home. It shouldn’t be possible, but there they are. In the flesh. How the hell did they get there? And surely there’s a way to get them back? But as you get close to each one, the thought of sending them back proves difficult to comprehend.
Characters/Pairings: Reader x Dean, Reader x Beau Arlen, Reader x Soldier Boy, OC mother, antique salesman
Warnings: (Warnings will be updated when chapters are released) Language, typical SB behaviour, smut, asshole mom.
W/C: 19,348 (so far)
A/N: All spicy chapters will be symbolised with a chilli pepper.
The Choice now has a Spotify playlist, which will be linked here.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven 🌶
Chapter Twelve
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anundyingfidelity · 1 month
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BLOOD, SWEAT & TEARS — Billy Butcher, Soldier Boy
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Summary: A normal night where Butcher and his new pal, Soldier Boy, fuck just their stress out with a new toy, you.
Pairing: Billy Butcher x female reader x Soldier Boy
Word count: 1.5k.
Warnings: porn without plot, dom!butcher, dom!ben, one thought of dub-con but not really, double penetration, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, rough sex, vaginal sex, anal sex, unsafe sex (creampie and switching holes basically don't do it, this is just porn), squirting, dirty talk, blowjobs, facial, degradation (usage of whore, slut, etc.), cumplay, some dacryphilia, choking, hair pulling, blood, mentions of violence, Ben and Butcher being kinda jerks, normal misogyny coming from SB, some ego competition, hints to aftercare.
Notes: You already know english is not my main language, not betad and barely revised, lol sorry for the mistakes in here. The amount of horniness I have for these two I swear is not fucking normal. Normally I'd apologize for writing this, but I'm ovulating.
the boys/jackles tags: @k-slla
☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !
GEN MASTERLIST!
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A pair of rough hands held your legs open. Your empty pussy was throbing as Butcher knelt between your thighs rubbing the tip of his cock against your cunt.
You gasped, the man behind you spreading you further for his new team mate to get better access while he fucked your ass senseless. His cock reaching all the right spots. You moaned loudly, almost screaming when Butcher finally pushed inside you. Soldier Boy never seemed to cease his insane thrusts from behind.
"Luv, you're so fucking tight," Butcher grinned, your walls engulfing him perfectly.
They both soon set up a rhythm, one pushing in while the other almost slide out of your hole. Each stroke of their massive cocks inside you exploded something you never felt before. It was a new kind of spark eliciting from the deepest places, and you wanted to come undone there, over and over, forever, between their strong bodies.
"Oh, fuck! Yes right there, god!" you growled, screamed, and cried out incoherences as the two men continued fucking you to bliss.
A layer of sweat covered your skin and you rolled your eyes back, the familiar knot on your belly building up yet again. You didn't have an idea of how much time had passed since you arrived back to the dirty motel. All three of you arrived covered in blood, dirt and the weight of murder, and you still let them take you and you welcomed them the same way. You let them have fun with you however they pleased.
The last thing you remembered from that night was coming back from a mission. Your aching body begging for a shower and good sleep, but Butcher and the new supe found other ways to take their own stress out. You doubted at first. Of course you didn't know it could feel this good. They left bite marks all over your neck, nipped your tits, spanked your thighs open for their mouths to devour you while the other fucked your throat until tears streamed down your cheeks.
They continued bruising and marking your skin. Like a canvas, they left their prints, covering your flesh with different colors all over and used your mouth and pussy as they fucking wanted, granting access to the other, spreading your legs, manhandling you all over the disgusting, shitty room. Then Soldier Boy had the idea of using your ass, just for him, and at first, you were fucking scared. It was all too much. But once he had you ready and stretched enough with his fingers, you quickly fell for his rough touch and his dick, which was as huge as his ego. He was fucking addictive. Both were, in fact, fucking you amazingly hard.
One of Ben's hand wrapped around your neck, climax reaching its peak as Butcher rubbed your clit with his thumb. Your walls clenched around both of them and the vulgar sound of your pussy filled the place along with their skin hitting yours.
"Little slut, gonna cum for us?" Ben said, voice full of lust, pressing your back against his bare chest. You clenched again, his dark chuckle enhanced heaven down your cunt.
Wetness increased between your legs, and you moaned. Louder than ever. The whole place might already know what was happening in the room, but neither Ben or Billy made you shut up. In fact, they wanted you to scream your lungs out.
"Oh, she's definitely gonna cum," Butcher followed, a smirk on his lips. "C'mon sweetheart, don't be shy. Give us one more."
"I-I feel like- fuck!" with a loud cry you squirted all over them, their dicks sliding out of your holes. Shit, that was the harderst you came for the night.
Immediately you tried to close your shaky legs, but Butcher's hands held you in place, pussy clenching around nothing as your fluids coated their hard lenghts and thighs.
"Fucking hell. I'm gonna break you, sugar," Ben hissed, taking your legs and fixing your position on top of him, sliding you down his dick, but this time he claimed your pussy, pistoning in and out of you without any mercy. Even if your body still trembled and you were so fucking overstimulated. You moaned.
Butcher tskd as he watched you, tears streaming down your face and lost in pleassure. "That was mine, pal."
"Yeah, I don't give a fuck- Jesus, she's fucking tight!" Ben hoarsed.
He didn't care about Butcher, he just wanted to fuck you until you passed out and his name was the only thing on your mind.
You whimpered softly. "Please, please," you were getting there again, under the brunette man's dark eyes as the soldier fucked you insane.
But before you reached that sweet peak again, Ben pulled out of you. His strenght forced you to bend over the matress on your hands and knees, Butcher positioned himself right in front of your face. It was so fast and they moved quickly, like a dance already choreographed between them to take advantage of all you got to give.
"Open wide, baby" Butcher ordered. You complied happily, letting his cock touch the back of your throat smoothly.
Ben's rough hands gripped your hips, down your ass, giving a spank on one of your cheeks, making you jump slightly. He grabbed your ass cheeks spreading them to expose your hole, the tip of his cock teased your ass until he slid in a swift motion. You whimpered with your mouth stuffed. He filled you up perfectly and you fucking loved it.
"Such a good cumslut, taking my cock so fucking well," Ben praised, voice husky. He roughly gripped your hair, forcing yourself down more around Butcher's shaft. You gagged, he smirked. "Might just keep you around as my little, personal fuckdoll."
"Fuck- easy there, mate," Butcher warned, as you worked your tongue and lips on his cock as much as you could. "We have another deal, remember?"
Ben smirked cockily at him as you clenched around his cock. You let out a moan muffled by Butcher fucking your mouth. Both their thrusts harder than ever. "Still, I don't give a shit."
Ben's gaze admired you, hands on your hips, as he watched himself shoving into your hole. "You're gonna fucking cum again, you dirty little bitch," he ordered.
"Mmm..." You nodded as best as you could with the twitching cock on your mouth.
Butcher suddenly pulled out of your mouth, a string of saliva leaked down your lips to the tip of his cock. He kept your head in place as much as he could and jerked himself off with his other hand. He came with a hard groan all over your pretty face. His white seed painted your cheeks, lips and your tongue sticking out as you shut your eyes.
"Bloody hell, don't you look ravishing," Butcher whispered darkly. His thumb collected his cum, now mixed with your tears and a small stain of dry blood on your face. He dragged it to your lips so you could taste it. Your plump lips closed around his finger with a moan.
"Insatiable slut, just how I like them," Ben hissed, pulling out of your asshole, making you whimper. "Now, I'm gonna cum inside this pretty little pussy."
He rubbed the tip of his dick on your slit and entered slowly. You felt every inch stretching you out and he slammed into you brutally, he was so fucking close. You could feel it. It surprised you how much they actually endured, their stamina was endless and you lost count of how many times they made you cum already. And yet, you felt that precious sensation anew, soft walls clenching repeatedly around him.
"C'mon whore," Ben gripped on your hair, pulling your back against his muscular chest, taking both your wrists with his other hand. "Cum around my cock."
Your cunt pulsed, he grunted. And you came, again, with shaky legs, shaky breath and the sight of a naked Butcher, who already had taken a seat on the couch in front of the bed. Your orgasm triggered Ben's, and he filled you up completely. You cried out when his fingers found your clit, the grip on your hair long gone now. He continued fucking his cum inside you, balls deep, until he started to soften inside you. His thrusts slowed down little by little.
Ben finally pulled out, letting go of your wrists and you collapsed on your hands and knees on the mattress. He spread out your pussy with his fingers and admired his white cum dripping out of you.
"Well, that was a fucking ride," he smiled. His middle finger wiped his seed and forced it back inside your pulsing cunt. "Fuck, where do you find these kind of women?"
Butcher shrugged. "I have my contacts."
"I'm still here, y'know," you breathed out, rolling on your back.
Ben hovered over your tired figure. Messy hair, cheeks stained with Butcher's cum, teary eyes, and some dry blood spots decorated your face. They did break you and put you back into pieces. He was damn proud of that. He leaned down and sucked into the skin of your neck. You moaned, your fingers tangled on his scalp as his lips carressed your neck, his beard burning on your soft skin.
"Ben, I'm tired," you said, and he stopped his kisses. He shared a suspicious look with Butcher and then locked his lustful green eyes with yours.
The supe winked at you. "Later, doll."
You rolled your eyes and heard Butcher standing up.
"Gonna prepare you a bath, luv," he said as he disappeared inside the bathroom. "Have to take good care of ya."
377 notes · View notes
hanasnx · 4 months
Text
MINORS DNI 18+
“And what is Noir’s girl doin’ out here?” SOLDIER BOY questions, grabbing your attention from behind you. With a condescending and chastising raise of his brows, he dips his chin to lower his voice. “Didn’t’cha hear it ain’t safe?”
You steel yourself against his intimidation tactics. You’ve never known Ben to be easy going, especially from Black Noir’s perspective. You swallow, and stand up a little straighter. “I can take care of myself.” As you talk, he saunters closer.
“Oh, I’m sure you can, princess.” he replies, but you’re unconvinced of his conviction, taking a wary and minute step back. Your tongue darts out to moisten your lips, and he notes it with his mesmerizing eyes. The kind of green you get lost in. You know he’s no good, that he’s probably a piece of shit, but you can’t help it. The heart in your chest threatens to bang right out of it, and not because you’re scared of danger. You’re scared of what you might do. He’s allowed to approach you, and he doesn’t stop until he’s right in front of you. Two tender fingers raise to your temple, and you eye them cautiously. He doesn’t care about your trepidation, brushing a lock of your hair behind your ear, and tracing your jawline to flick your chin up. He inclines in to ask you in a low whisper, “Wanna show me?”
You never imagined you’d get fucked in the barracks. If you did, it would’ve been with Noir—
“Don’t think about him, you look at me.” Soldier Boy orders, and you fucking listen. Your eyes glazed over from guilt towards a now ex-lover sharpen from his demand, honing in on him as he sinks into you over and over. You’re nothing to him, light in his hands, picked up and propped up against some boxes of equipment while he’s lodging his cock all up in your insides. “Yeah, yeah,” he commends, a grin breaking out onto his face. One of pride. “That’s right. That’s a good girl. Yeah, you look at me when I fuck you.” For good measure, to keep your focus where it should be, he shows you he can hold you up with an arm, and takes the other hand to grasp your jaw. He pins the back of your head, and your brows upturn, panting through your nose. “Yeah, you want what I’ve got, don’t’cha? Noir can’t give to you this good, ah? Say it.”
You squeeze your eyes shut for a second, fighting off your impending orgasm while supe-cock bruises your cervix. The hem of his suit brushes past your clit in a delicious sting, you don’t know how much more you can take before you burst.
“Ah, ah.” he chides, jostling you by his harsh grip on your chin. “Lemme see them eyes.” You obey, peeling them open one by one as pleasure weighs them down. “Yeah, princess, let me see those pretty eyes.” His glove digs into the flesh of your thigh, you can tell he’s getting close, hips stuttering. “Now, tell me what I wanna hear. You wanna finish all over this cock? Tell me your little boyfriend can’t fuck his bitch like I can.”
358 notes · View notes
wayward-dreamer · 6 months
Note
Hi, I was wondering if you could write a story where soilder boy is dating Y/n, and they start talking, and he asks her if she thinks he would be a good dad. Which leads to them talking about starting a family together. And then one of them says something along the lines of "Why don't we try now?" Then it turns into smut. If not it's okay, thanks!
Father Material
Pairing: Soldier Boy x F!Reader
Word count: 1,468
Summary: Curiosity from the public and media has Ben expressing his dream to be a father. Y/N wants to make his dream a reality.
Warnings: Swearing, some angst, mentions of SB's nefarious actions, smut: dirty talk, rough sex, breeding kink.
A/N: This request has been in my inbox forever, so I apologise for long it took! I hope you like it Layla! Happy reading! :) Thanks to my besties/betas @hintsofhoney and @makeadealwithdean for looking over this. Sorry not sorry for killing you hehe
also there's plenty more Soldier Boy content on the way because apparently I've become an SB smut dealer lmaooo
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“Do you think I’d make a good father?”
That was the question that sparked the sex marathon they had been in for hours now. Given that he was a supe, Soldier Boy had the stamina for withstanding just about anything, and if he had it his way he could probably last well into the night. She on the other hand was flagging quickly, the downside of being 100% human, but she really couldn’t bring herself to tell him to stop. Not when he always knew just how to make her toes curl and her body quake with euphoric bliss. He may have known what buttons to push to get her going, but that didn’t mean their encounters were predictable. They were far from it, and that day was no exception.
The day started out like any other. He had meetings with hero management, followed by filming a commercial for Cracker Jack, which then led to interviews with different channels. She finally stepped out of their penthouse that night to join him on The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson, draped in an emerald green dress to match his suit, complete with gold accessories. Usually interviews weren’t really her favorite thing to do, but being America’s golden couple meant that they needed to be seen in public in order to keep that status. So they did what they always did. They laughed and joked with quick-witted Carson, charmed the audience and made the nation fall deeper for them with each caress of a hand or sweet kiss. Some may have thought it was just for the cameras, those cynical spectators that didn’t have any business commenting on what goes on behind closed doors, but they both knew the truth about their relationship.
They were in love. They had been since the moment he propositioned her in the elevator of the Vought American building, leading to one of the wildest nights she had ever had. Most would call it lust, but when you understood someone on a deeper level like they both did, it was most definitely love. A warped, messed up kind of love, but nonetheless, that’s what it was. She wasn’t stupid; she knew the kind of man he was, what he had to do during the war, and in Vought’s name since he joined their roster. She knew there were some off the books black ops missions he had gone on, even if she didn’t know the details. She heard the rumors about Dealey Plaza, too. She knew that he was fucked up despite his God fearing, all-American persona for the public, but she didn’t care.
In order to love someone like that, she had to be a little fucked up too. Well, more than a little.
Despite distracting everyone with their incredible charisma, questions of settling down and starting a family came up, and she knew she had to think of an answer fast when she saw Ben’s face go blank. With her biggest grin, she turned to Carson and said “Well, if anything happens Johnny, you’ll be the first to know!” They covered it up with hearty laughs as the audience joined in, along with the host, before he thanked them for their time to raucous applause.
The drive back to the Vought building was quiet, her concern growing for him until his words: “Do you think I’d make a good father?” broke the silence.
“Why do you ask?” she questioned in return, softly as to not scare him from broaching the subject.
“That fucking Carson,” he muttered, staring out the window at the bright lights. “I just… I guess he got me thinkin’, that’s all. Forget it.”
She wasn’t going to. She knew there was something he wanted to tell her, something he wanted of her, and she needed to know what it was.
“Thinking about what?”
“Thinkin’ about… about how I’d do it better than my father ever did,” he confessed. “We’d make some perfect fucking kids, that’s for damn sure.”
She smiled softly, her hand curling over his as she slid across the backseat and pressed herself against his side. She nuzzled her nose along his jaw, leaving small kisses along his stubble as she reached his ear, her breath fanning against the shell as she whispered her own desire to do the same.
“Then let’s start right now.”
And that was how they found themselves in their bedroom twenty minutes later, with her holding herself up on her quivering hands and knees as he pounded into her from behind, his fingers digging into her skin with a bruising hold as his pelvis smacked against the curve of her ass. He had contorted her into every position possible since then for the last couple of hours, with barely a few minutes to breathe between each romp in the sheets. She had lost track of how many positions, and she was about to lose count of how many times he had spilled inside her, both of them getting closer to that release once more.
“Oh god, oh god!” she moaned wantonly, her forehead pressed against the mattress as her hands fisted the sheets. She was completely unbothered about how loud she was and the fact that people had probably heard them by now.
“No need to bring him into this, doll,” he chuckled, the sound broken up by his groans of pleasure. “Just me and you here…”
“You’re so fucking cheesy,” she mumbled, a guttural whimper escaping her at a particularly angled thrust against her g-spot.
“You fucking love it,” he countered, smirking as he suddenly pulled out of her.
Ignoring her whine of protest, Soldier Boy flipped her over onto her back and grabbed her legs, bending her in half as her calves rested on his shoulders, sliding back into her tight heat with a quick, hard thrust. The sounds that left them were nothing short of pornographic, as he began to pick up the pace with each push of his hips against her. He squeezed his eyes shut as her walls clenched around his throbbing cock, both of them balancing on the edge of their blissful climax, ready to go over at any minute.
“So fucking good, so fucking perfect, Y/N,” he growled, their faces close as he leaned over her. “You love the way I fuck you, don’t ya?”
“Yes!” she cried out, nodding frantically as she stared up into his green orbs. “Love the way you fuck me… you fuck me so good, Ben. So deep, and hard, wanna feel it for days.”
“Oh you will, sugar,” he groaned, between rough kisses against her lips. “Gonna fill you up, make you feel so full, make you full and round with my babies. You want that?”
“Yeah,” she breathed.
“Fuck, yeah you do,” he husked. “Tell me, tell me you want it.”
“I want it, I want it so bad, Ben,” she whimpered, the sound practically a sob with how desperate she was to finally let go. “I want you to fill me up, give it to me.”
“Cum for me, doll, soak my cock,” he said, looking deep into her eyes.
Y/N finally felt the dam breaking as a loud, shrieking moan escaped her, her walls contracting around his shaft as her arousal spread over him. He grunted loudly, his hips snapping harder against her, as he tried to hold himself back. His eyes fluttered, about to close, but her hands on his face stopped him, making him pay attention to her as their gazes locked. As she had with each time he had reached his peak that night, she stroked her thumbs along his jaw, slowly nodding her encouragement and desire to feel his seed deep inside her.
“S-Say it,” he stuttered, his neck straining as he held on just a little longer. “Fuckkk, s-say it-”
She bit her lip, knowing how it drove him crazy, before she parted them and uttered the words that sent him over the edge at the end of round that night.
“You’re gonna be a great dad… better than your own.”
Soldier Boy threw his head back, the veins in his neck pressing against his skin as he let out a guttural moan, his cock pulsing deep inside her tight canal. She moaned softly as she felt the warm spurts of his cum coat her walls, filling her up as he had done several times that night already. They both breathed heavily, trying to calm their racing hearts, neither of them wanting to move away from the other. He buried his face in her neck, planting soft pecks along her pulse point, bringing a smile to her face as they basked in the afterglow.
Both of them hoped that it wouldn’t be too much longer before their dream became a reality.
465 notes · View notes
Trust
main masterlist | the boys masterlist
summary: soldier boy doesn’t realize just how scared of him you truly are
pairing: soldier boy x female reader
rating: R for language, mature themes
word count: 5.2k
warnings: please read! language, mentions of sexual assault, attempted sexual assault, drugging, violence, forced purging (to prevent possible death), briefly mentioned nudity (not in a smutty way), much darker than anything i’ve published before
author’s note: this started out as a small idea but i got really carried away lol.
another note: sorry for kinda ghosting after uploading the last fic, my brain hates me 🙃 i can’t promise i won’t “disappear” again like immediately after uploading this so thank you in advance for any/all feedback/comments 💞💞
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It was late at night (more like early morning) when you were arguing with Butcher at the door. 
“Don’t you dare leave me here alone with him!” you seethed.
“C’mon, love, the old cunt’s gonna be asleep the whole time I’m gone.”
Your teeth clenched at the idea of being alone in the house with Soldier Boy, but if Billy didn’t go now to “run an errand” he’d probably have to go later that day anyway.
“Fine,” you sighed. “But if ‘the old cunt’ lays a fucking finger on me I swear to god Butcher!”
“I’ll be back by nine.”
**
A loud knock on your door woke you up.
“Hey! Sweetheart!” Soldier Boy’s voice shouted from the other side. “You up?”
“I am now,” you mumbled to yourself angrily. 7:26 your clock read.
“I heard that,” Soldier Boy said. 
Shit, you thought. “What do you want?” 
“The stupid TV isn’t fuckin’ working, I need you to come and work your magic for me.”
You sighed. You couldn’t ignore him at this point, that’d most likely just anger him further. If he wanted to he’d just break down the door and drag you out to the living room.
“C’mon toots, don’t be a bitch about it,” he exclaimed.
“Screw you,” you mumbled.
“Hey!” Soldier Boy exclaimed. “What’d I just fuckin’ say!” He tried opening the door but you’d obviously locked it. 
“I-I’ll be out in a second,” you told him. 
“That’s more like it,” he mumbled back.
You quickly got out of bed (whole outfit still on, just in case Soldier Boy had tried something in the night) and hurried to the door before you opened it. There he stood, the strongest man alive. You gulped nervously as he didn’t move and stayed blocking your way out. 
He eyed you up and down obnoxiously, smirking at the sight and making your heart beat faster.
“Same outfit as last night, I see,” he said. 
“S-So?” you asked, trying to mask the pure fear this man instilled in you. “I just like these clothes, is all.” He didn’t say anything, just kept smirking at you. “You’re wearing the same clothes as yesterday, too, you know!”
“So you have been checking me out.” He nodded a little, the smirk still on his face.
“Did you want me to help you with the TV or did you just wake me up to be a dick?”
“TV,” he grumbled, “but would it kill you to be polite once in a while?”
“Would it kill you to move out of the way so I can head downstairs?”
He furrowed his brows before he rolled his eyes and stepped to the side; “After you, princess,” he mocked. You left your bedroom and he followed you downstairs to where the perfectly functioning TV hung on the wall.
You hated the way Soldier Boy eyed you as you took the remote out from the cabinet beside the TV and turned it on.
“It seems to be working fine?” you said, wanting to take his attention off of your ass. “What were you trying to watch?”
“Uh…how bout you pick something for us?” he offered.
“Excuse me?” you practically scoffed.
“C’mon, sit down and watch with me,” he said. You turned around, expecting to see him sitting on the couch, but he was now standing about a yard away from you. “Butcher seems to be gone…” He took a step towards you. “We’ve got the whole house to ourselves…” Another step. “Why don’t we have some fun?” He reached out and lightly touched your cheek, traced down the side of your face, and tilted your chin up to look him in the eyes.
“Soldier Boy—”
“I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me,” he interrupted you. “I know your heart starts racing when I walk into a room, I know it beats even faster when I get close. I know you want me, don’t even try to fuckin’ deny it.”
“P-Please—”
“Oh, I like a woman who knows when to beg,” he chuckled lowly as he bent down to kiss you.
“Please don’t hurt me, please,” you said quickly, tears stinging your eyes as they threatened to fall. “I-I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch to you, I-I didn’t mean it! Please don’t kill me!”
“Kill you?” He stood up straight, pulling his hand up off your face and putting it up in defense. “Kill you?” There was a moment of silence as he intensely looked at your reaction to him getting so close. “You…You’re scared of me, aren’t you?”
You nodded slightly, worried you might upset him as his face fell. He seemed almost saddened by the fact you didn’t want him near you.
“But…I’m a hero,” he scoffed slightly. “Why would you be scared of me?”
“Please don’t take it personally,” you said. “Just let me set up the TV for you and go back to my room…please?”
“You’re fuckin’ terrified right now, aren’t you?” he asked and again you nodded, again he scoffed.
“Can you blame me?” you asked. “I-If I rub you the wrong way you could snap my neck like a chicken bone without breaking a sweat.”
“But I…” He continued looking at you with confusion that seemed to be laced with curiosity. “I wouldn’t. I mean, I know I get angry sometimes but I’d never hurt you?”
“You wouldn’t be the first hero to turn on me,” you told him quietly. Soldier Boy paused and thought about what to do next. He’d never been in a situation like this before; standing alone with someone who was genuinely scared of him, someone that didn’t trust a hero like himself.
“Just uh… Just turn on a movie and you can go,” he said before he took a seat on the couch. “Another one from my time, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure,” you said; a small, forced smile on your lips. You found a movie you thought he’d like and pressed play for him before tossing the remote on the couch and leaving.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he called out, making you stop in your tracks. “I’m sorry you don’t trust me, but I need you to know that I’d never hurt you.”
“O-Okay, Soldier Boy,” you said before you hurried out of the room, up the stairs, and back into your room. “Billy Butcher I am going to fucking strangle you,” you mumbled to yourself.
**
“You’re up before noon,” Butcher remarked, seeing Soldier Boy in the living room. “And you got the TV workin’ on your own! Atta boy, gov’.”
“Actually, Y/n set it up for me,” Soldier Boy said.
Butcher sighed at that, “So, you’ve talked to her today then, huh?”
“Yeah, why?” the Supe asked before Butcher left to see you. 
He knocked lightly on your door before you opened it. 
“Hello—” Butcher started but a swift slap to the face shut him up pretty quickly.
“Fuck you, Butcher!”
“Did he hurt you?” Butcher asked, holding his cheek.
“No, but he almost fucking did, asshole! How dare you leave me alone with him like that!”
“Oh come off it! If you’re still in one piece then all’s well that ends well, am I right?” he said with a smirk and a shrug. 
“You ever do something like that again and I swear to god William!” You stared daggers at him.
“My ‘errand’ didn’t go as planned anyways, love,” he told you. “I’ve gotta figure out another way to find where they’re hiding Homelander.”
“Or whatever’s left of him,” you mumbled.
**
“Alright, I’m off,” Butcher announced, a full duffle bag in his hand as he headed to the door.
“What?” you exclaimed from the kitchen as you hurried to get between him and his destination. “What’re you talking about?”
“Everything okay?” Soldier Boy asked from the couch near the TV.
“Everything’s fine, gov’, you keep watching your movie,” Butcher said.
“Can I talk to you outside for a minute?” you asked Butcher, you didn’t want Soldier Boy to hear what you were about to say. 
“After you then, love,” Butcher obliged.
The second the door closed behind the two of you, you let him have it.
“Don’t you fucking dare leave me here alone with him again, I cannot fucking take it!”
“It’ll only be for a little while, you’ll be fine!” Butcher said.
“Then let me come with you!”
“What, and leave the cunt here alone? He’ll burn the house down trying to make himself a fuckin’ sandwich,” Butcher exclaimed. “He needs a fuckin’ babysitter and that’s you.”
“Why me? Why can’t you call Hughie? Or Frenchie? Or, better than all of us combined, Kimiko?” you asked.
“Hughie’s outta state, Frenchie and Kimiko are both knee-deep in shit sussing out another lead on Homelander’s whereabouts.”
You sighed heavily, you saw his point but the thought of being trapped again made your stomach hurt; “Please don’t leave me alone with him, Butcher. You know how much he fucking terrifies me, and you know exactly why.”
“I’m sorry I gotta do this to you, love, but you know he’s our only shot at killin’ Homelander once and fucking for all.”
“How long will you be gone?”
“Only a day or two.”
You again conceded, against your better judgment, and let Butcher leave you with Soldier Boy.
“What was that all about?” the Supe asked when you walked back into the house and locked the door. 
You forced a smile; “Nothing, Soldier Boy,” you said, “dinner will be ready soon.”
You didn’t know Soldier Boy heard everything you and Butcher had said.
**
“Looks great, toots.” Soldier Boy walked up behind you in the kitchen, not missing the flinch you threw when he got a little too close. 
“Thanks,” you mumbled. 
“You still that scared of me?” he asked, leaning on the counter and trying to get you to look up at him.
“If you can hear my heart, I’m sure you’ve got something that can smell my fear too.”
“I know I make your heart race, your breathing becomes slightly quicker when I get close, and I’ve noticed your pupils tend to change when you notice I’m next to you.”
“So why is my fear such a fuckin’ surprise, then?” you scoffed.
“I guess I didn’t realize it was fear making your heart race and your pupils dilate slightly.”
“What, you thought I was into you or something?” you asked half-heartedly before you looked over at him and realized that was exactly what he had thought. “Oh.”
“So, yeah, I was surprised when I realized you didn’t like havin’ me around,” he admitted. You almost felt guilty for a moment but it quickly disappeared as you remembered why you were scared of him in the first place. “Can you at least tell me why, though?” he asked as you shoveled his food onto a plate. “Why are you so scared of me? I get that I’m stronger than you but, no offense, isn’t Butcher too? Isn’t like… almost every man out there?”
“One, I trust Butcher. I’ve known him for years and he’s been nothing but good; he’s an asshole, sure, but he’s good when it counts. And two, I don’t spend time alone with ‘almost every man out there’ so that does not help your case at all.” You handed him the plate. “Here’s your food.”
“Thanks, dollface.” He took it from you and you started getting your own plate ready. He watched your every move and his brows knitted with confusion as he did so. 
“You can go sit down,” you told him. “You don’t need to watch me like a hawk.”
“I’m sorry, I’m just still tryin’ to figure you out I guess.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you scoffed.
“You know I’m a hero, right? I’m a superhero, and I would never hurt you?”
“Look, no offense, but the last time I trusted a Supe it really didn’t turn out well and I’m not gonna let myself give you even an inch of trust because you are even stronger than the last guy.”
“What happened? What’d he do?” Soldier Boy asked and you didn’t respond. “C’mon, you owe me that much! I’ve been nothing but good to you, yet you’re treating me like I did whatever this other Supe did to you!”
“I don’t owe you shit, Soldier Boy,” you snapped and you could’ve sworn you saw genuine hurt flash over his features. “If you must know, it was The Deep. I trusted him, let him be good to me, and it all blew up in my face in the most awful way I could’ve imagined.”
“I’m sorry, honey.” He reached out to touch your shoulder but you flinched away from him.
“Please, don’t touch me. I get that you’re trying to be sweet or whatever but please don’t. It’s not doing what you think it’s doing, Soldier Boy.”
He nodded and backed away slightly.
“My name’s Ben,” he told you. You looked at him with a sense of shock. “My real name’s Ben, you don’t have to say ‘Soldier Boy’ all the time, you can just say ‘Ben’.”
“Okay, Ben, while we’re on the topic of names, you could ease up on the ‘toot’s and ‘doll’s and ‘dollface’s and ‘honey’s and ‘sweetheart’s you know. Or at the very least stick to one pet name.”
He smiled at your honesty, hoping it was a sign you might be scared of him just a tad less.
“Think I’ll just stick to callin’ you sweetheart, then,” he replied.
“Thank god, I was really starting to hate dolls.”
That made him laugh deeply before he walked to the table and took his seat.
Don’t you fucking dare, you thought to yourself when you felt a feeling of almost-not-absolute-fear-and-disgust wash over you for a split second. 
**
“Look, I’m sorry, but—”
“You’re sorry?” you scoffed into the phone. “Butcher get the fucking hell back here!”
“I can’t, I’ve gotta spend another night over here. Apparently—”
“I don’t give a rat's ass why you have to stay, I am begging you to please get back here now!” Tears were stinging your eyes as your voice cracked.
“I’m sorry—”
“If he does anything to me, anything at all, I’ll never fucking forgive you for leaving me alone with him, Butcher. You understand me, William? Never!”
“He’s not gonna hurt you,” Butcher sighed. “Just keep your distance and be nice to him. He does have a bit of a temper, maybe he just needs to relieve some tension…”
“That’s not funny!” You gritted your teeth as a few tears slipped down your cheeks. “When are you getting back here?”
“A few more days,” he replied. 
Before he said another word you hung up on him, furious that he thought it was okay to leave you alone with Soldier Boy.
Though the Supe was in his own room upstairs, he still heard every word you said. He’d never admit it, but his heart clenched at the thought of how scared you were right now. 
**
It had been over a week since you’d seen him when Butcher finally got back with some new information on Homelander’s location. He had a plan to find the exact coordinates and he wasn’t going to let his morals get in the way.
“Well, well, you clean up nice,” Butcher commented when you stepped out of the bathroom.
“Shut up,” you grumbled. You were wearing a short royal blue dress with a deep v-neckline and almost no back, the silver heels and necklace tied the otherwise seemingly plain outfit together nicely. “If this stupid plan of yours gets me killed I’m gonna come back and haunt you for the rest of your fuckin’ life.”
“Wow,” Ben beamed when he walked out of his room and saw you standing in the hall with Butcher. “You look incredible, sweetheart.”
“I look like a damn hooker,” you said. 
“That’s the idea, love.” Butcher smirked.
**
A high-ranking Vought employee had been seen at a certain bar almost every night for the last two months and it was now your job to get him to trust you. If he trusted you enough, he would take you back to his place and you could find out any and all information he had on Homelander. 
The plan seemed simple enough, yet Ben seemed more anxious about the situation than you were. 
“Are you sure this is safe?” Soldier Boy asked when you were all seated in the van outside the bar.
“No, but if this helps us get Homelander then it’s safe enough,” you told him. 
“Besides, you’ll be in there with her,” Butcher reminded him. “And if you stay focused on keeping her safe, then I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
“How ‘bout we come up with a code word or something?” Ben suggested as he put in the earpiece Butcher handed him. 
“How about ‘Soldier Boy’?” you said, Ben shook his head.
“And what happens if you need to say ‘Soldier Boy’ but you don’t need help?” he countered.
“How about…Ben?” You smiled a little when he nodded.
“I’ll be listening closely to the whole conversation, if you say ‘Ben’ I’ll come and get you outta there.”
“Sounds good.” 
“Alright,” Butcher interrupted, “Soldier Boy keep me updated and if all goes well, Y/n, we won’t be seeing you again til later tonight.” He winked obnoxiously.
“If this guy genuinely tries to sleep with me I’ll break his fuckin’ nose,” you said flatly. “Info or no info, I ain’t letting him see me naked.”
**
Ben had gone in about a minute before you did and found a nice spot near where he knew you’d be sitting with the target. The second you walked in his eyes were glued. He stayed true to his word and listened to every word you and the target said.
“This seat taken, handsome?” you asked the man who then smirked at you. 
“It is now,” he said. “And what’s your name, gorgeous?”
“Goldie,” you lied as you took your seat. “What’s yours?”
“Steven. Let me buy you a drink?” he offered and called the bartender over when you nodded. 
“Vodka martini,” you ordered. “So Steven, what do you do for work?”
“I work for Vought,” he said and you faked an impressed look. 
“No way!” you gasped. “Oh my god, do you know The Seven?”
“I do,” he said with a nod, clearly full of himself. 
“That is so cool,” you continued stroking his ego. You nodded in thanks when the bartender handed you your drink and you took a sip. “I’ve never met someone so important!”
“You wanna know a secret?” he asked, you nodded enthusiastically. He leaned over so he could whisper into your ear; “I’m actually in The Deep’s close, personal circle.”
Your eyes went wide for a split second before you got a hold of yourself and whispered back; “Really?”
“Uh-huh,” he said. “I could introduce you if you’d like.” You pulled away from him slightly but still tried your best to keep yourself calm.
“Oh, that’s alright,” you shook your head, “I’m sure he’s too busy for little old me.”
“I’m never too busy.” The voice behind you made your whole body tense up and Ben could tell you were in trouble. You hadn’t said the code word though and he knew both you and Butcher would be mad if he screwed up the mission.
“Butcher,” Ben said into the intercom attached to his jacket, “Deep’s here.”
Butcher paused for a moment before he answered; “Don’t freak out. Y/n can handle herself and unless she says ‘Ben’ you don’t make a move, you understand Soldier Boy?”
“Understood,” he replied.
“You know,” The Deep said, still standing behind you, “I’ve had my eye on you since you walked in here, gorgeous.”
“Y-You have?” you asked, wondering if he recognized you or if your face just blurred together with all the other women he had assaulted. You took another sip of the drink in your hand and continued to keep a close eye on it to make sure it didn’t get spiked.
“I have,” he replied. “Now, why don’t you let my friend Steven here show you a nice time, then take you back to my place at Vought Tower?”
“S-Sounds good,” you trembled. “I-I’ll see you later tonight then, Deep.” You took another, smaller sip.
“Wonderful,” he said before he bent down and placed a kiss on your cheek. “Can’t wait to see this dress on my floor.” With that, he walked away and you let out a sigh of relief.
“Fish fucker’s left the building,” Ben told Butcher. “You gonna tail him or are we still focusing on Steven?”
“Stay focused on Steven, we can kill fish fucker another day,” Butcher said.
“So, you want another drink?” Steven asked you. “Or would you rather head over to the tower?”
“You know, I’d rather spend the night at your place, Steven.” You faked a sweet smile. 
“Really?” He raised a brow as a smirk returned to his face. “So, another drink, then?”
“How about I just let you take me home?” The moment you stood up you knew something was wrong. You instantly felt dizzy and sat back down. “Ben, help,” you whispered when you realized exactly what was happening. 
“Looks like we’re heading to the tower, Goldie,” Steven said. “Thanks as always, Pat.” He handed a couple hundreds to the bartender.
Ben came up behind Steven and pinned him against the bar with one hand, his other hand resting on the bar itself a few inches from where you were now slouched over.
“What the hell did you do to her, fuckface?” Ben seethed.
“I didn’t do anything! What’s your problem?” Steven yelled, drawing attention to the scene unfolding.
Ben took the back of the man’s head and brought it up half a foot before he slammed it back down onto the wood. 
“Tell me what you fuckin’ did or I’ll squish you like a bug,” Ben yelled as he applied more and more pressure to Steven’s head.
“Roofie!” Steven yelled. “Ask the bartender!”
“Ben don’t kill him,” Butcher told him through the earpiece. 
“He deserves to fuckin’ die, Butcher,” Ben replied.
“Yes he does but he still has information that we need. If you’ve gotta kill someone, kill the bartender who spiked the fuckin’ drink!”
Ben looked up from gravely injured Steven and saw the bartender cowering in the corner.
“Ben,” you whispered and reached out to touch the hand he still had on the counter. “Ben get me outta here.” His angered expression slowly faded as he looked down into your hooded eyes. “Please?”
“Yeah, I’ve got you,” Soldier Boy said before he quickly scooped you up in his arms and carefully kept your head resting on his shoulder. “Hey, barkeep,” he shouted and the man looked over at him. “Mark my words; no matter where you go or what you do I will find you and tear you limb from fucking limb for hurting her. Your days are fucking numbered.”
Ben hurried you out to the truck and sat you down on the seat next to his so you could lean on him if you wanted, or alternatively, you could lean against the window if you still didn’t want him touching you.
“Stay with her, I’m gonna go figure out how much they gave her and if we need to take her to the hospital,” Butcher told Soldier Boy before leaving.
“Ben,” you slurred, still barely able to open your eyes, “Ben what—what’d you do to me?”
“God fuckin’ damn it, Butcher,” he mumbled under his breath. He blamed Billy entirely for the operation going sideways and for you ending up in danger. “Fuck, you need to purge, sweetheart.” He positioned you so your head was hanging out the side door and stuck his fingers down your throat, ignoring your angered hits to his arms. “This is for your own good, stop fighting me.”
You hurled out the side door, Ben held onto you tightly and made sure you didn’t fall out or get hurt. 
“Please just let me go,” you whispered when he took his fingers out, satisfied with the amount of possibly deadly alcohol you were able to get out of your system.
“I know you’re scared right now, but I can’t let you go,” he told you. “I’m sorry.”
Butcher got back to the car pretty quickly, a worried expression on his face.
“How much did they give her?” Ben asked.
“Too fuckin’ much,” Butcher replied. “We’ve gotta make her puke it all up or she might not make it.”
**
You woke up on the couch to the sound of Butcher and Ben arguing in the kitchen, a splitting headache quickly made itself known when you opened your eyes fully.
“This is your fault, Butcher,” Soldier Boy yelled, “you and your stupid obsession to find Homelander. How dare you put her life at risk like that!”
“Hey I had the strongest man alive in there backing her up, so how the hell did you screw up so badly?”
There was a pause as you kept listing, a part of you was scared you’d start to hear punches being thrown.
Ben shook his head as he looked at his ‘boss’; “You’re a fuckin’ asshole, you know that? She’s been scared outta her fuckin’ mind and yet you just keep on pushin’ her and pushin’ her. And for what? To kill a Supe that’s probably dead already? You know Homelander ain’t a threat since I fuckin’ burned him, yet you still put someone you say you care about in danger.”
“‘Scared outta her fuckin’ mind’?” Butcher scoffed. “What’re you on about?”
“I know she’s terrified of me,” Ben admitted. “I know that you know she is, too. And yet you keep leaving her alone with me, why? Just to make her life worse? To make her feel less safe than she already does?”
“You sayin’ she’s got a reason to be scared of you, then?” Butcher asked. “Thought you were supposed to be some kinda hero?”
“Of course I’d never hurt her! But I’m still a Supe and I know you hate Supe’s. There’s no way in hell you trust me at all or you wouldn’t have her babysitting me every time you leave the fuckin’ house. What I don’t get is why you’re so comfortable leaving her here with the strongest man in the world when you think I’m a fucking monster.” Ben walked over to the fridge and took a bottled water out before he grabbed a cup and left the kitchen.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he said quietly as he entered the living room. “I know you’re up, do you want some water?”
“What happened?” you asked as he squatted on the floor in front of the couch and made eye contact with you.  
“We can fill you in later, you should probably drink,” he said and held out the two items in his hands. “Would you rather the bottle or a cup?”
“Bottle’s fine,” you replied and you slowly sat up, putting a hand to your head before you took the water from him.
“You need some Aspirin or something?” he asked. 
“I’m sure Butcher ‘ll bring me some,” you said, making Ben’s brows furrow a little before he nodded with realization.
“You still don’t trust me much, do you?”
“Sorry,” you mumbled before beginning to drink the water. “What am I wearing, by the way?” you asked and gestured to the dirty, large black tee you had on over the blue dress.
“Oh, uh,” he scratched the back of his neck nervously, “it was on the car floor, I think it’s Butcher’s. I put it on you when uh, when you were kinda out of it and… your boob might’ve kinda… popped outta your dress.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” he mumbled. “I didn't… like I didn’t look or anything, I just saw the shirt and immediately put it over you.”
“Sure.” You nodded before you continued downing the bottled water.
“I’ll go get Butcher to bring you some painkillers,” Ben said before leaving the room.
**
You’d just gotten out of the shower and put on a new set of clean clothes when Butcher stopped you in the hall.
“How’s your head?” he asked.
“Better,” you replied flatly, still pretty frustrated with him.
“I’m sorry I was such an idiot,” he sighed, “I shoulda told Soldier Boy to get you hell outta there the second the fish fucker showed his ugly mug.”
“We needed intel on Homelander,” you reminded him. “My safety was just the price we had to pay.”
“And that was a fucked up currency for me to gamble with,” he said. “I’m sorry I’ve been so obsessed and I’m sorry for leaving you alone with Soldier Boy so much the past couple of weeks.”
You shrugged a little; “It’s no big deal.”
“I want you to know I’m done tryin’ to find Homelander.”
“Seriously?” Your eyes went wide and you furrowed your brows. 
“The cunt’s most likely down for the count anyway thanks to granny fucker downstairs and there are other Supes that are much bigger threats right now anyway. Like The Deep, for example, and the number of people he’s paying to help him get away with assaults like last night. I’ve been talking with Hughie and as it turns out, he’s already had his eye on a handful of other bartenders workin’ for fish dick.”
“So…what? You’re saying you’re gonna go back to your old job at Supe affairs and start hunting down these assholes in a more mentally-healthy way?” you asked.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
**
When you entered the living room you noticed Ben readjusting his position on the couch, as if to try and make himself appear less threatening.
“Hey,” you said quietly, a small smile on your lips as you sat down about two feet from him on the same couch.
“Hey,” he replied. “How’re you feeling?”
“Better.” You nodded. “You need help with the TV?” you asked, picking up the remote from where it sat on the coffee table in front of you.
“Yeah, thanks,” he replied. He watched you intently as you ‘worked your magic’ on the electronic contraption.
“I know I was completely at your mercy last night, Ben,” you said, focused on the TV and not looking over at him. “And I know you could’ve easily taken advantage of the fact I was out of it.”
“But I didn’t.”
“I know that, too.”
“But you still don’t trust me?”
“I want to,” you said. You reached out your left hand and gently placed it on his right one. He looked down at where your hands were touching and smiled softly. “I want to trust you, I just need time to get to know you.”
“You sayin’ you wanna get to know me?” he asked with a bit of a smirk before you nodded. The two of you stayed like that for a moment before Soldier Boy broke the silence; “So, where do we go from here?”
“How about we watch something together?” you suggested. 
“That sounds great, sweetheart.”
273 notes · View notes
deanbrainrotwritings · 3 months
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—  HERO OF THE HALF-TRUTH
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SUMMARY : “I'm a hoe for Soldier Boy (I'm past hiding it😅) so I thought maybe you write one smut fic where he seemingly picks up reader from a bar, where he is at some promo event or something like that, and they go for a quickie behind a bar and after when she wants to go home, he forces her to sit through rest of the evening with his cum dripping down her legs, and if you're comfortable with it- there could be some degrading, hair pulling, roughness, choking?” — @k-slla 
PAIRING : soldier boy (ben) x fem!reader
CHARACTERS : none
TAGS/WARNINGS : explicit(18+), tiny canon divergence, depression, trauma, ptsd, degradation, i made soldier boy a sad little puppy, hair pulling, roughness, choking, unprotected p in v, cum kink
WORD COUNT : 3.7k
A/N :  title from an august burns red song. this fills the secret relationship square on my @jacklesversebingo card. I almost forgot to post this lmao 
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Soldier Boy, he can’t seem to escape Vought. 
Even breaking every rule Stan Edgar enforced didn’t get him released of the steel strings keeping him from doing whatever the fuck he wanted. 
After being tortured for forty fucking years, it was the least he thought he deserved. He was old as fuck, he could feel the heaviness of it every morning when his eyes opened up to the bright sunlight. He was exhausted and everything looked dead. 
On top of everything, there was a dull ache that remained attached to him like a parasite from the betrayal of his teammates. Even though they’re all dead, even though they didn’t matter to him as he ended their lives—or even before that—his life layers around the hurt and pain left behind by the Crimson Countess. 
There was an emptiness that pressed into his soul like a black hole that no amount of drugs, sex, and alcohol could fill. It got sucked up like it was nothing, unseen, forgotten. It’s how he felt, too. Like nothing, forgotten, thrown away like a useless piece of trash by the very company that struggled to keep him under their thumb now, once again.
He had dreams and hopes before everything that happened. He could have had it all, but all of that evaporated in the same way he had eviscerated his old lover, the Crimson Countess. 
More often than he liked, Ben woke up to nothing, to no one—completely alone, unloved, unimportant. Forgotten. 
Still, here he was, at a ridiculously expensive bar for a promo event. Rich assholes surrounded him, faking smiles and faking laughter, shaking hands and making stupid small talk. They wore expensive suits and held glasses of alcohol that they hardly drank from the whole night. 
Don’t even get him started on the Supes that were on their best behaviour for the night. Pretending to be the good guys. Ben thought they were worse than him. Every single one of them were pathetic, useless, and weak. He didn’t like a single one, but he smiled, too, faking for the night knowing all the annoying cameras that were snapping shots of everyone at any given moment, and that irritating journalists were eavesdropping on every conversation to get the juiciest stories. 
He rolled his eyes as soon as he was able to get away from a journalist who refused to take his ‘no comment’ for an answer. Instead, she was hounded by the Deep who was told which people to talk to in order to continue rewriting his image. 
Ben grunted when he sat on the barstool and the bartender greeted him with a flirtatious, red-lipped grin. He wasn’t in the mood for anything tonight, but he mustered a smile when he ordered a whiskey. But otherwise, he stared into the golden liquid after taking a small sip, ignoring the woman when she brushed her fingers with his. 
Life went by around him; pop music played in the background, people’s voices made a hundred symphonies from laughing and conversation. And the bartender took Ben’s rejection with pride and continued to speak to patrons, reporters, and other Supes. 
His attention drifted away from the glass containing golden liquor when his skin prickled, a shiver running up his spine. He looked to the one side and then the other, there’s only one person who could make him feel that. 
And there she was, sitting on a barstool at the edge of the bar top laughing it up with A-Train, rather awkwardly. It’s like she called to him, somehow, without words. Not a single look had been exchanged just yet. His body felt her before he even laid eyes on her beauty, or touched the softness of her, or caught a whiff of her floral scent. 
Ben stood up to make his way to her. A-Train left instantly when Ben stood behind her with a scowl on his face. He watched her shiver with a tiny smirk, her sentence halfway complete by the time A-Train made it halfway across the room. 
Casually, she spun around in the stool to face him. Her expression was guarded—to everyone else, they were strangers. 
“Hey,” he grunted, deciding to take a seat next to her.
“What are you doing?” She asked quietly, looking away from him to drink the sweet Cosmo she ordered for herself. 
“I should be asking you that,” he shook his head and gave her a sideways glance. He caught the tiny smile on her face for being caught and bit his lip to stop himself from mirroring it. 
She paused and took a slow, short sip of her drink. He resisted the urge to look at her for taking so long to respond. He could feel her hesitation and her quiet sigh made his smile drop slightly.
“I haven’t seen you all week,” she murmured, finally admitting what had driven her to see him in a place filled with people he was hoping to keep from entering her life. They had no privacy now with all the Supes and Stan Edgar around, and he wanted to be angry at her for risking their… relationship, but most importantly her safety. 
He kept her from Vought, from Supes, from anyone who could hurt her or use her to get to him.  
He felt bad. Even though he had good intentions. He couldn’t deny that he was neglecting her. Making her wait for him as Vought dragged him here and there either to play hero or to do shit like this. Promo events. Fucking movies, songs, advertisements. 
It was exhausting to pretend so much. 
He wished he could see her more often. 
If he could, he’d like to return home to her. To lay in bed with her while she runs her fingers through his hair and while they watch another important movie he missed while he was… yeah. 
He just wanted to settle down with her, but Vought was a danger to his dream with her. 
Ben drowned the whiskey in one gulp and pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth, inhaling softly. He could feel her watching him, and he eyes subtly followed as he stood up and stomped away from the bar to get outside.
He hoped no one would follow him, except her. 
The night was dark, and cool enough that the sky was clear and the stars fought to shine against dark blue-violet skies despite the bright city lights. There was no breeze, the air didn’t bite at his skin and made his cheeks and nose turn red. 
It was perfect.
As perfect as the back of a bar could look during the evening. Cars zoomed by at the very end of the alley and colourful graffiti covered posters of Supes in the wall. Slander and hatred were sprayed against the walls, against Vought, a majority of the Supes. Others wanted Maeve back or defended Starlight, or Homelander. 
People were twisted. Cruel. Pathetic. Hypocritical. As they always were. They never changed, from what he remembers. Not really. They always think they are right, that they know better-
“What?” He heard the heavy door slam against the wall. The door shut slowly behind her when Ben turned around to see colourful pink and blue lights from inside form a shape around her body. 
She crossed her arms over her chest, her face was sadder, but still careful. She knew better than to drop her guard. That fearful glint in her eyes told him that she knew better than to think she was safe. Or that he wasn’t being watched.
That didn’t stop Ben from wanting to hold her. To kiss away her doubts, to smooth the worry lines on her forehead with his fingers, to melt away the tension from her muscles. 
“Sorry,” he whispered instead, his fingers twitching before clenching into a fist. He stepped towards her once the door clicked shut behind her, but she stood where she was as if her feet had grown roots, preventing her from reaching him. “You know I’d like to go everywhere with you in my arms, but-”
“You don’t need to explain it to me again,” she interrupted him softly, rubbing her hands up and down her arms to make herself warm. She looked down at the intricate designs on his suit rather than looking into his big, pleading, green eyes. “Did you miss me… At least?” She blurted out, embarrassment blazing up her face for needing that reassurance, for asking it out loud.
Ben took the final steps to close the distance between them and cupped her cheek. He pressed his lips to her forehead and brushed her cheekbone with his thumb. “I did, you know I did,” he mumbled softly against her.
Ben could feel her relax in his arms. She breathed out slowly and he wrapped his arm around her waist to bring her as close as possible. She clung to the buckles on his vest and closed her eyes as the sounds of the city at night faded into nothing around the two of them.
Part of Ben still felt guilty. Probably more now that he was holding her than before.
Here she was, all dolled up and glamorous for him. Because she missed him. Sure, he thought of her way too much the entire week, but she doesn’t know that. He was so overwhelmed with his job and doing what was expected of him, reshoots and interviews, so many things that came with his contract with Vought. 
If he trusted the damned company, he’d include her and her safety when it gets renewed. He’d request a meeting tomorrow, or tonight, to have it changed. So he wouldn’t have to sneak around with her. He’d like to quit to have all that without being under Vought, but he wouldn’t feel safe, and therefore, she wouldn’t be safe either. 
If he could, he’d fake his death and run away with her. But unlike him, a man who simply doesn’t belong in this time, she was the tree at the centre of a garden that everyone loved to gaze at and be around. He couldn’t just uproot her and leave an empty space where she once was in everyone’s lives. She was loved for who she was—genuine, kind, feisty. But Ben was just liked for his looks, for what he was good for—except for her, he loved him as he was, for all that he was.
Every ugly part. Every bad part. And there was a lot of that. He was an asshole and he was insecure, he already knew that. Who was he kidding besides the people who seemingly adored him? Fans?
“Come on,” she whispered, pulling away to kiss him on his bearded jaw, “let’s get back inside so I don’t freeze out here.” Ben’s fingers dug firmly into her hips to keep her in place.
“What makes you think I’m letting you leave so quickly?” His rough voice caused a shiver to run up her spine. She smiled softly against his mouth and pushed up on her toes to wrap her arms around his neck. “I missed you and you look gorgeous. And now that I have you here… I’m going to make a mess of you with the time I have.”
She inhaled sharply, excitement speeding up her heartbeat. Ben walked her backwards until her back hit the cold wall and she gasped softly once she was pressed against the painted bricks. Her flushed skin made her more sensitive to the cold surrounding her and almost instantly, before his luscious mouth even landed on hers, she felt a tingle of excitement followed by a flood of wetness between her legs.
“Are we really gonna fuck here?” She whispered against his lips. His beard tickled the soft skin of her chin when he hummed a ‘yes’ against her lips, pressing softly at first. “What if someone sees us?” She asked, burying her fingers into his soft, brown hair. 
Ben smirked, his tongue teasing the seam of her lipstick-painted lips. The dull flavour of lipstick hit his taste buds, but his mouth still watered. Her lips parted just slightly, her shaky breath made his lips tingle. “You should know better than to think that would stop me.” 
“Fuck,” she exhaled, his voice alone was enough to make her moan. His fingers clenched her dress, slowly dragging it up her legs, slowly pressing his knee between her legs. To tease, his knee grazed her clit, their mingled breaths made his mind hazy with arousal.
“Now, be a good little slut and give me your panties,” he ordered, releasing her dress to smack her ass with both of his hands. She moaned softly and brought his lips down to hers for a deeper, sensual kiss. 
His fingers tangled in her hair and he tilted her head to slide his tongue into her mouth, licking, sucking, desperately looking for a way to fuse himself with her. Her fingers blindly pulled and tugged at the buckles around his hips and then she whined uselessly when she couldn’t get a single one undone. 
He stopped kissing her to laugh softly, “I told you to focus on you.” 
“Please,” she laughed shyly, pecking his lips. She cupped his cock over his trousers and he gasped, rolling his hips against her hand. 
“We have to make this quick,” he told her, stepping back to work quickly on the buckles. He was faster, pulling out straps expertly, habitually, from years of practice. He didn’t even have to glance away from her flustered face, but unlike him, she clumsily dragged her seamless panties down her legs.  
He hadn’t removed anything, not enough for her to see how hard he was, and he wasn’t giving her a chance to. “I’m keeping these, doll,” he grinned, snatching her underwear and shoving them inside his armour vest, right where his heart thundered against thick metal. 
“Can I keep anything of yours?” She pouted. 
“You can keep my cum?” He offered with a smug smirk, his hands moved from where they were to grasp her hips and spin her around faster than she could process. 
“Okay,” she replied with a smile, hesitantly setting her hands and cheek against the wall. He laughed against her shoulder and hiked up her dress again, his fingers trailing up her sides. 
“You just love being a fucking cum-dump for me, dontcha?” He teased, his voice dripping over her like honey, deep and hot. She moaned softly in response and wiggled her hips impatiently. 
“Fuck.. anything for you, Ben.” He sank his teeth into her neck and guided his cock to her dripping entrance. The tip of his cock circled her entrance and slid through her wet folds slowly. The feeling of her bare heat against his skin made his grip tighten painfully around her hip.  
“Christ, you’re so fucking wet already,” he groaned, the length of his dick teasing her clit with every back and forth, “and I’ve barely even touched you.” He slowly pushed himself into her, shuddering at her delicious warmth wrapped around him. Her walls fluttered around him and she pushed her hips back into him, adjusting to the size of him. “That’s my needy little whore,” he praised degradingly, dragging his calloused hands up the front of her dress to palm her breasts. 
She moaned softly and reached back to thread her fingers through his hair, pulling at the strands until he groaned deeply against her back. The sound shook through her body like an earthquake and sent ripples of pleasure to her clit and pulsing walls. 
“Beg for my cock, needy little slut, show me how much you missed me,” he whispered into her neck with a smirk. He was all smug and sexy, hard and firm, and each touch woke something in her that she would have otherwise been too embarrassed to show anyone else.
“Please, fuck me,” she begged pathetically, pulling harder at his hair if she couldn’t convince him with her pleas. He wrapped his fingers around her wrist and pressed his fingers into her palm until she relaxed her grip. “God, please, Ben… I need you so bad,” she whispered needily, extending her hands back to grip onto any part of him that she could easily reach when he let her hand fall.
“Come on, let me hear you,” he panted, slowly thrusting into her. He bit his lip, digging his fingertips harder into her hips. She gasped at the pain and squirmed, but a tingle of pleasure began to bloom as he bruised her skin and dragged his cock slowly through her walls. “My pretty little slut,” he growled, smoothing his hands up her sides to bend her forward slightly.
“Please, Ben! I need you!” She whined, allowing him to roughly pull her up again against his chest. He pressed a hard kiss to her jaw, snapping his hips forward once as he groped her chest. Ben pulled the top of her dress down and didn’t hold back with the painful pinch of her nipples between his fingers. He ground his cock into her, driving himself deeper as she moaned and squeezed him. 
Her toes curled inside her heels and her breath hitched, but Ben continued to mouth at her cheek and her shoulder, his breath as uneven as hers. She could feel the grin on his face, the tickle of his beard fueled her arousal and she was dripping around his cock like a desperate whore.
“Please! I-I can’t take it!” She cried, pulling hard on Ben’s hair to make him move faster. He growled against her flushed skin and delivered another rough thrust in response. 
Ben’s teeth grazed her jawline and he grunted softly with each unhurried, deep, hard thrust. Her soft pleas and loud moans echoed against concrete walls, carried into the dark nothingness of the city. Her pussy clenched tighter around him and he was almost out of breath from how amazing she felt.
She clung to him as best as she could and his large hand ended up wrapped around her throat. He was waiting for her to finally fall apart and beg him to make her come. All she could do was ride along the tiny edge of her orgasm, so close to toppling over, but never having that pleasure wash over her.
“Faster, Ben! Let me come... Please… make me come!” She cried out, trying to move her hips to desperately meet his deep, slow pace. He squeezed her throat, pressing his fingers around her throat until her vision turned nearly all the way black.
“Christ, you’re perfect when you beg for my cock,” he chuckled. Be  relaxed his grip and she inhaled sharply, her brain getting fuzzier, like static. A moan slipped from between her lips and Ben finally began thrusting into her faster, sharper, precisely. Short quick gasps made their way past her swollen lips and his name hung in the air when it was stuttered lovingly. 
She found it easier to hold onto the wall, bending herself over once again as her knees became weak and her heels became difficult to stand in. Her mind evaporated from her skull, all she could feel was him, Ben. His suit brushed against her sensitive skin, hard armour pressing into her soft body. His beard scraped against her flushed neck, causing her to shudder and clench around him.
His lips were wet and warm against her skin, his breath adding to the heat to combat the cold that engulfed them. His hands touched and grabbed at what he could reach before tangling in her hair. He gripped her hair in one hand to breathe clearly into her ear, and he pulled at the strands so she stood up straight and couldn’t move away from him again.
Her scalp stung at occasional harsh tugs but his fingers on her clit distracted her enough to find more pleasure than pain. “You always do the stupidest fucking things for my cock,” he grunted in her ear, and despite how irritated she was from being edged she couldn’t help being amused.
Maybe it was all the pleasure that put her in a good mood or maybe it’s that she was finally where she wanted to be, with Ben. The man behind Soldier Boy. 
Her body had a pin-point focus on all the pleasure induced by everything he did to her. Taking her ability to breath with his grip tight around her throat, holding her to him with her hair wrapped around his fist. She felt like an overfilled balloon, overwhelmed with pleasure, love. She missed him more than anything and he was intoxicating.
She felt her orgasm wash over her, a scream of Ben’s name that he was partially able to muffle with his hand squeezing the side of her neck. She gasped, strained and strangled sounds that could barely move past his tight grip and then he let go before he could finish.
She was cold and empty for a few moments, her pussy clenched sound nothing and then a breath was punched out of her chest when he pressed her back into the wall. She was up in his arms, back to moaning and shaking when he slammed back into her.
A few quick thrusts with rough kisses pressed against her lips before warmth bloomed inside her from spurts of his release. Warm cum trickled down between her thighs and Ben laughed huskily against her shoulder when she held him tighter. 
“I missed you,” she whispered breathlessly, slightly disappointed when he pulled his cock out of her and set her back down. She leaned against the wall to catch her breath and recompose herself. She closed her eyes when he dipped down to kiss her cheek.
“Me too,” he murmured, his lips ghosting across her flushed cheeks. She fixed her clothes and tried to keep her focus on him, but she felt exhausted. Weak. “Tell you what,” he began, pulling her back in to keep her warm, “Sit like this through the night and I’ll take you home with me,” he proposed, smirking at the laughter that shook her body. “That’s what you’re good for, keeping my cum safe inside that needy little cunt of yours,” he brushed his lips against hers, collecting sticky strings of their release with his fingers to smear them across her painted lips. He bit his lip and watched her lick her mouth clean. 
“Yes, sir, Soldier Boy,” she smiled, entranced by the lascivious way he sucked on his fingers. 
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You Call It Madness But I Call It Love
Series Masterlist
Pairing: Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV
Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters fluctuate between past and present, beginning in 1934. SPOILERS FOR THE BOYS S3
Chapter 1: You Shouldn't Have Answered the Door
Chapter 2: Late Night Visitor
Chapter 3: Summer Has to End Someday
Chapter 4: It's My Party and I'll Eat Cake If I Want To
Chapter 5: The Man, The Myth, The Legend
Chapter 6: Batter Up
Chapter 7: Are We Old Friends Or Old Enemies?
Chapter 8: Jealousy Doesn't Look Good On Anybody Except...
Chapter 9: Wedding Bells or Gong of Destruction?
Chapter 10: How Did It End Up Like This?
Chapter 11: I Can't Think With You Yelling At Me!
Chapter 12: My Heart Is Beating For You Constantly
Chapter 13: You Made A Plaything Out of Romance
Chapter 14: You're All I'm Dreaming Of
Chapter 15: Coming Soon!
Last Updated: 04/24/2024
***************************************
If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series let me know :)
Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303 @deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs @bughill126, @simplyfixated @sleepjam, @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts,@onlyangel-444 @lov3vivian @mxltifxnd0m @mayafatimakhan @marvel-mistress @my-obsession-spn @lifeonawhim @soldirboy @liuope @brynanna
(Photos on mood board from Pinterest)
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zepskies · 8 days
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Calculated Risks
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Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader
Summary: You and Ben argue about your commitment to being a working mom. When a rogue supe gets loose at Supe Affairs, mayhem ensues, putting not only your life at risk, but your daughter’s as well.
AN: Welcome back to the BMD-verse, friends! Did you miss these two as much as I did? Plus, get ready for a heavy dose of fan-favorite Frank. (And Lila, of course!)
Word Count: 7K
Tags/Warnings: Familiar bickering, a mission gone awry, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff.
Catch up on the BMD-verse. ⤵️
💚 Break Me Down Masterlist
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In four years of marriage, one thing that had never changed between you and Ben was this.
“All right, you’re being a little too much right now,” you said in irritation. “Of course I’m not sitting this one out. I’m the one who found us the damn lead in the first place.”
The man was following you from the adjoining bathroom and back into your shared bedroom, where you began getting dressed for work in the blouse and pencil skirt you’d laid out for yourself.
Your husband had already donned his supe suit, sans helmet. He stood just behind you with his arms crossed, a familiar surly frown on his face. When you turned around, he hadn’t moved an inch.
“I’m being too much? You’re the one who’s not being fucking reasonable,” he said.
You rolled your eyes and moved past him to find your shoes. For this skirt, you really needed heels. Your most comfortable black pumps would do. You grabbed the closet doorknob for balance as you slipped them on, giving him a look of exasperation.
Ben held firm on his stance, but inside, he had a feeling you’d chosen this outfit on purpose. You knew he liked this whole sexcretary look on you, with your hair let down around your shoulders. The skirt and heels just brought his eyes to the delectable curve of your ass.
But again, he was holding firm.
He’d been called in on this case partly because Annie was on maternity leave. She was due in just a few weeks. Which meant “Soldier Boy” was definitely needed to help out Butcher and his merry band of assholes. By now, Ben had gotten used to them.  
“Look,” you said, “Slingshot has been causing a lot of havoc, and the police haven’t been able to catch him. You heard Grace. This is an ‘all hands on deck’ situation.”
“She always says that shit. Doesn’t make it true,” Ben retorted.
“This time it is,” you said. “I’ve already put in tons of man hours on surveillance for this guy. I want to get him off the street.”
Ben held you by your arms. “That’s exactly my point. You’ve been putting in way too many hours.”
You shook your head. He just didn’t get it.
“If I hadn’t, we wouldn’t have this opening now,” you said. You gave him a smile to try and lighten him. “Now he’s all teed up for you and the guys. This should be in and out. Practically a milk run for you.”
“Yeah, but not for you,” he pointed out. “And not for Lila. You’re stretching yourself too damn thin. It’s not like we need the money.”
Ahh, now we get to it, you thought. Yet again, he was bringing this up. In his mind, you should’ve cut your hours at Supe Affairs after Lila was born.
You did take an extended maternity leave of an entire year and a half, which was much more than women usually got from their jobs. However, because of your relationship with Grace and the entire team, you’d been allowed to come back whenever you felt ready. 
Ben had often felt it necessary to point out that with his money, you didn’t have to work at all. 
He knew very well that for you, this work was more than a job. 
“I’m not the first working mom in existence, Ben,” you said, pushing out of his hold. “And I’ll remind you that Supe Affairs has a great daycare program. Lila’s very happy there.”
Plus, she was almost three and a half years old. In less than a year, Lila would be off to preschool.
“And look, it’s not about the money,” you added. “I told you before Lila was born. I am a mother, and I’m your wife. But I’m still me.”
Ben processed that for a moment, meeting your gaze.
“The situation’s changed,” he replied. He grasped your hips this time. His thumb gently brushed over your belly, which had a small bump under your high-waisted skirt. 
You were finally pregnant again. Three months, in fact, and you were having a boy. You knew that Ben had several reasons to be more protective than usual…but still. You thought you were already taking every precaution to keep you and your children safe, even with the occasionally extensive hours of your job.
“These cases can be long and difficult, not to mention dangerous,” said Ben. His green eyes met yours as he looked down at you through furrowed brows. “You’re putting yourself at risk.”
You blew out a breath and tried to placate him, soothing a hand over his chest. 
“I’ve stopped doing field missions,” you pointed out. “And Supe Affairs is the most secure building in the city. Do you think I would bring Lila there if it wasn’t?”
The security team at the S.A. was bar none, not only because Loco was a part of that team. Frank was also your personal bodyguard; Ben hired him back when you found out you were pregnant with Lila.
In fact, Frank was coming to the house in a few minutes to pick you all up.
Ben frowned. “I think you’re being stubborn just to be fucking stubborn.”
That sparked at your temper. Again, you withdrew from his arms and crossed yours.
“I think you need to face the fact that I’m protected as well as I can be,” you said. “I also think that you’re trying to use this as a way to shoehorn me into some antiquated idea of what you still think a wife should be. I’m gonna tell you right now. That’s not me! It’s never been me. And you know that.”
He opened his mouth to give an angry retort, but you beat him to it.
“It’s like you don’t even care about what I want,” you snapped. “Just what you think is right—for me to be here waiting for you to come home, quite literally barefoot and pregnant, ready to rub your balls!”
Cliché as it might’ve been to say, if the shoe fit, then you were certainly not going to be the one to wear it.
“You know what, you can accuse me of being stuck in the fucking past all you want,” Ben said, raising a finger, as well as his voice. “But the problem here isn’t me. It’s that what you want is goddamn idiotic!”
Your mouth fell agape. “Excuse me?! I can’t even believe you right now!”
Ben fairly loomed above you when he shouted back.
“Well, that makes fucking two of us!”
His voice was loud enough to reverberate on the walls. You even flinched, but you held your ground with a glare…
Until you heard a whimper.
You and Ben paused, and turned to find Lila. The three-year-old was cowering a bit in the doorway to your bedroom. Her eyes welled up with tears, and she began to cry.
Your heart broke.
“Oh, honey,” you breathed. You were both apologetic and mortified as you quickly went to her.
Ben was close behind you, but while Lila was quick to melt into your arms when you picked her up, she shied away from his attempt to reach out to her. What would’ve been a placating hand on her head, turned into him pausing in surprise when she ducked.
“Lila?” he prodded.
He tried to mask how put out he was by his daughter hiding her face from him, burrowing into your neck instead. She was usually a daddy’s girl, through and through.
You shot him a knowing frown, while rubbing her back in comfort.
“It’s okay, baby,” you told her. “Your dad and I were just…talking. He didn’t mean to shout.”
When Lila only whimpered in response, Ben’s gaze dimmed in understanding. His lips pursed.
You saw that look on his face, and you wanted to sigh. Part of you felt bad for him, at the way Lila had flinched away from her father. In a way though, maybe it was a lesson he needed to learn.
Frank arrived a few minutes later in a black SUV, like he did every weekday morning to bring you all to work. Ben was quiet and taciturn climbing into the backseat on one side, and you clipped Lila into her car seat from the other side. He still made sure that she was strapped in correctly, and even tried to earn his daughter’s gaze.
She snuck a glance at him a couple of times, but quickly lowered it to play with one of her favorite stuffed animal toys (a little German shepherd that he had gotten for her).
Ben let out a long breath through his nose. He gave Frank a nod through the rearview mirror, and the other man peeled away from the house.
The four of you rode in silence away from your house in Scarsdale, towards New York City.
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Ben’s mood remained grim, even when you all got to Supe Affairs. Frank held back while you and Ben stopped in the hallway with Lila. You were carrying her, and she was holding onto you and her stuffed animal like a lifeline instead of looking anywhere else—namely at Ben.
You sighed and tried to pull her back enough to see her face.
“Daddy’s gotta go to work now. Want to say goodbye?” you encouraged.
All Lila could manage was a shy look in his direction. Ben laid a gentle hand on her head, over her dark hair.
“Bye, sweetheart,” he said.
Lila didn’t answer him. She just bit her lip and stayed withdrawn.
You and Ben shared a glance. He was hiding it well behind his usual stoicism, but this was hurting him. There wasn’t much either of you could do about it now, however. You both had work to do, and the mission would have to come first.
“I’ll be online in a bit,” you told him. 
First, you needed to take Lila up to daycare before Frank accompanied you to your office. There you’d be able to join the mission from your computer and put your headset on. Aside from surveillance, you were their virtual eyes on missions. 
So Ben tacitly agreed, and the two of you parted ways.
You went up to the second floor to drop Lila off at daycare, where you set her onto her feet. You could see that she was quiet and almost sad, not as bright and talkative as usual. And she was clinging to your hand. You bent down the best you could in your skirt, so you could meet her eyes.
“Are you still upset with your dad?” you asked. 
After a moment, Lila replied, “Daddy’s loud.”
You couldn’t help a rueful smile. 
“Yeah, he can be,” you nodded. “But he’s gonna work on that, okay? He loves you very much.”
She finally smiled a little when you pressed a few sweet kisses to her cheeks. You felt a little better about leaving her with Sarah, the woman who ran the daycare center. She was kind, but well-organized, and good at her job of wrangling fifteen or so toddlers on a daily basis.
And she was hovering off to the side with a smile, waiting to shepherd Lila over to where the rest of the group were starting at the arts and crafts table.
“Okay, baby. I love you. I’m just downstairs if you need me,” you said, caressing Lila’s cheeks, brushing her hair away from her face.
She nodded and waved goodbye. Sarah then stepped in and guided the girl over to the crafts table. The other kids were already drawing and coloring with crayons and markers.
With a sigh, you knew you had to get to work. You joined Frank out in the hall.
“Did something happen this morning?” he asked. You gave him a weary look.
“Something always happens. I’ll fill you in when we hit the elevator,” you said.
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“Kids are resilient. She’ll bounce back,” said Frank, when you two got off the elevator down to the basement, under the first floor. This was where the “heavy stuff” happened at the S.A.
“That’s not the point, Frank. He hasn’t snapped at me like that in a long time, and he really scared her. That’s not fucking okay,” you said. “He needs to learn to control his goddamn temper.”
He sent you a knowing glance. You rolled your eyes.
“Okay, I know I don’t always help. But in this case, I was justified,” you said. “Ben was being an ass.”
“Right,” Frank nodded. “It’s not at all that he’s worried about you.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “Whose side are you on?”
The man remained silent, but his stoic face wasn’t fooling you. He’d been your friend for much too long, and he knew Ben just as well…which was why you found yourself reconsidering what happened this morning.
“You really think he has a point?” you asked. “Am I working too much?”
Frank shook his head and opened the door for you into the Surveillance Department. The two of you ventured to your office, where your quadruple monitor setup was waiting for you. He also had a desk for himself, since he often spent the long hours of your day with you.
“When you were pregnant with Lila, you were on maternity leave by now,” he pointed out.
“Because we had no idea what was going to happen,” you countered. You went to your desk and started up your computer. “I had to meet with Tonya once a week, ultrasounds and blood tests all the time, making sure Lila was healthy, that I was healthy. This time around, we have a better idea of what to expect.”
For example, you were experiencing bouts of super strength once again, but it was still intermittent. Although, you pretty much never needed coffee. Maybe the supe genes coursing through your system, thanks to your unborn son, was part of the reason why you’d been able to go such long hours for these cases.
He's already brightening up my life, you thought with a little smile, holding a hand over your lower belly.
“It’s your choice,” Frank said at last. “But it is possible that Ben cares about more than just making you a suburban housewife.”
At that, you sighed. There was nothing wrong with being a housewife, you knew. It just wasn’t…you.
Once your computer and monitors were booted up, you connected to the right channels and put on your headset.
Already you could hear M.M. bitching about keeping the weapons trunk organized, not just tossing things in haphazardly. 
“It’s a simple fucking system, Frenchie. You can at least abide by it,” M.M. said. “We don’t have time to be scratching our asses while you try to find a—”
“Hey, Bert and Ernie. Would you shut the fuck up already?” Ben groused.
Your mouth twitched at his grumpiness.
“A little testy this morning, ey guv?” Butcher remarked.
“Gargle my ball sack,” Ben replied, with an even grouchier deadpan than usual.
“Do you kiss your child with that mouth?” Frenchie teased. 
“Nah, just your mother’s French hole,” Ben slung back. You rolled your eyes. 
“All right, all right. Put the measuring tapes away,” you interrupted. “I’m online, locked on your GPS.”
“Well, if it ain’t Mrs. America herself,” Butcher drawled. “Got a lock on Slingshot’s location for us?” 
“You know it,” you replied. “Sending to the group chat now. Slingshot’s been spotted entering a strip club in Chinatown.” 
“Jeez. A little early for tits and booze. It’s 10:00 a.m. on a Tuesday,” said Hughie.
You heard Ben huff in amusement. “It’s never too early.”
You snorted at that.
“Right. I’ll remember that next time you fall asleep watching Family Feud,” you clipped back.
You heard the other guys trying not to laugh as they got into Butcher’s van. Part of you felt bad for teasing Ben, knowing he was already in a bad mood, but you were feeling a bit petty about what happened this morning.
You had to bite your lip against a smile, as you could picture the ill-tempered face your man was likely sporting.
And we’re off.
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Lila wasn’t having a good day. 
She didn’t feel like coloring, and the toys just weren’t fun today.
She just didn’t want to be here. The other kids smelled like old Cheetos and feet (especially the boys).
She missed you. And though she hadn’t wanted to admit it to you, she missed Daddy too.
Lila wanted to go home…she wanted her mom. 
“I’m just downstairs if you need me,” you’d said.
Lila had a kind of plan percolating in her mind, all through the morning, and even through lunch time. She didn’t want to get in trouble, but when she’d asked Miss Sarah if she could go see you, she’d said you were at work and couldn’t come get Lila until later. 
But that’s not what Mommy said, Lila thought.  
After lunch, she laid on the napping mat with her pillow and blanket, even though she was wide awake. She didn’t want to nap with the other kids, even though Miss Sarah told her it was time to sleep. 
Again, Lila didn’t want to be bad. She didn’t want to get in trouble either, but she really, really just wanted to see you.
And you’d said it was okay to go downstairs if she needed you, right?
Lila closed her eyes while Miss Sarah was looking, but she waited until the teacher went into her office to answer a call. Then, Lila carefully put Charlie, her stuffed dog, against her pillow, tucking the blanket up to his neck. 
She crawled off her mat and snuck over to the door while Miss Sarah was distracted on her phone. Lila reached up and was just tall enough to twist the doorknob. It led her out of the room, and out into the empty hall. She then looked both ways for a clue on where to go. 
She heard a ding, and looked over at a nearby pair of elevators.
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The mission went more or less according to plan. Slingshot’s abilities allowed him to stretch every part of his body like elastic. It not only made him hard to catch, but even harder to maim without collateral damage. 
A whole block in Chinatown was wrecked in the takedown, but your idea of ripping the cables from a nearby utility pole to electrocute him let Ben finally subdue the elastic supe. Kimiko knocked him out, and Butcher slapped some tight-ass cuffs on him and dragged him into the van. They returned with the rogue supe in custody. 
You were mentally exhausted from helping them track down routes to pin down Slingshot, but you were relieved to be done. You were also satisfied that another danger to society was neutralized, for now.
You took pride in your work, and you didn’t think Ben saw that, or thought it was important. You supposed that was what upset you the most about that fight with him.
Sometimes, you wondered if he would ever truly change.
You grabbed your purse and made sure to slip in your gun and taser. You left your office and greeted Frank, who had just finished making his rounds in the building with Loco’s team. Frank joined you on the way to the elevator.
“I meant to ask you, how’s Alana doing?” you asked. Alana was his daughter, who was now in college.
“She’s changed her major yet again,” he said wryly. “This time to philosophy.”
“Philosophy? That’s interesting. What does she want to do with that?” you asked.
“No fucking clue,” he replied, hitting the button for the first floor. “I just hope she gets bored and picks something practical. Like…teaching, or dentistry.”
You shot him a bemused look. “Dentistry?”
“As much money as I put into that girl’s braces, it’d be good for her to pay it forward,” Frank said, in a surly tone that reminded you of Ben. You had to laugh.
You and Frank exited the elevator and started down the hall.
You planned to touch base with Grace Mallory on the safety measures of Slingshot’s containment before he was put into custody. The idea was to house him in a prison cell that could actually hold him until he went through the legal process. 
But you’d only gotten halfway down the hall before the supe in question literally stretched past you on unnaturally long legs—in a blur of his white and blue supe suit. Your eyes widened on a gasp as you watched him head toward the elevator you’d just come off of. 
“Fuckin’ hell, we’ve got a runner!” Butcher shouted from down the hall. He along with Ben, M.M., Frenchie, Hughie, and Kimiko were rushing your way. 
It all happened so fast. 
You registered Frank shooting out a protective arm in front of you. You turned back to see the elevator doors had opened back up, and Slingshot rushed inside. He made eye contact with you.
Then his arms shot out like rubber bands. One of them knocked Frank into the far wall. You gasped and froze on reflex. 
Ben shouted your name; he was running towards you, getting closer. You were able to meet his wide eyes for a brief moment. He reached out for you, but those stretching arms closed around you first. You gasped when they slung you backwards.
You cried out in shock when your back met a surprisingly solid chest.
Meanwhile, Ben barreled the rest of the way down the hall as the elevators closed just short of his angrily furrowed face.
The stretched arms holding you were tight around your torso, making your grit your teeth as you tried to pull away. They twisted you around so you could face your captor. Or so he could see you.
His natural height was around Butcher’s—dark hair, blue eyes, angular features. He gave you what was probably meant to be a suave smile as those baby blues dragged down your body.
“Hey, baby. Nice heels,” he said. You rolled your eyes.
“So that’s why they call you Slingshot,” you said, still a bit breathless. The elevator started to move. He’d chosen the top floor. “Where do you think you’re gonna go?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” he snarked. “Anywhere but here. And you’re gonna help me.”
“How? Being a human shield?”
“For a start,” he smirked down at you. He backed up a step just to take another proper look at you, and he whistled lowly. He took your chin between his sweaty fingers, making you grimace when he stroked your cheek. 
“Down boy,” you said warily. “Trust me, you really don’t want to do this.”
This jackass hadn’t even realized you had a small, but noticeable baby bump.
“Why not, babe?” he grinned. “You’ve got the whole sexy librarian thing going on.” 
You heard a loud creaking sound outside the elevator doors. The compartment itself came to an abrupt stop, making the lights flicker. 
“What the fuck?” Slingshot muttered. His hold around you loosened. 
You had an idea of what just happened, with grim satisfaction. You also took advantage of his distraction and managed to slip a hand into your purse.
You pulled out your taser. Slingshot noticed and tried to grab you again, but the elevator somehow started to move in reverse, about a foot a time. It made both of you lose your balance and utter sounds of surprise.  
As soon as you regained your footing, you aimed the taser at the most sensitive place you could think of—the supe’s dick and balls.
His howls of pain were loud enough to reach Ben, Frank, and the rest of the team on the third floor. Ben’s face became edged with a smirk. 
He kept pulling the elevator cables down until the compartment’s doors were in reach. There he grabbed the doors and pulled them open with his bare hands, crunching metal under his fingers. The moment he saw you, the relief in your eyes, he grabbed your hand and pulled you out, into his arms. 
Slingshot was angry, though he managed to recover, rip off the taser’s metal prongs and wires, and evade Kimiko, M.M., and even Butcher when he slithered his way out of the elevator and around their guns. The bullets ricocheted off the walls, and off his body as they followed him down the hall.
Ben focused on you. He brushed his half-gloved hands over your shoulders and sides while he quickly looked you over. There was worry in his eyes, disguised as anger. You caught your breath and held a protective hand over your lower belly out of reflex. 
“You okay?” he said, but you were already nodding before he asked.
“I’m fine,” you replied. “Just get him. I’ll get Lila.” 
Ben nodded. He shot one last firm look at Frank, who was back at your side. Frank laid a hand on your shoulder as Ben took off down the hall to find Slingshot. 
“The stairs are safer at this point,” Frank said. 
“I would have to agree,” you said, steeling yourself with a breath. 
While you and Frank went downstairs to the second floor, you didn’t see the second elevator ding, its doors opening to your daughter, who ambled out alone. She looked one way down the hall, but hearing her father’s voice carrying down the opposite way, she started venturing in that direction.
If she couldn’t find you, then she’d find her dad. 
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“What the hell do you mean you lost her?” you shouted at Sarah, the woman who was supposed to be looking after your daughter. “How do you lose a three-year-old at nap time? What kind of incompetent fuck are you?”
Yes, Ben had unfortunately rubbed off on you. 
Sarah was in tears by the time you were not even halfway done, but Frank calmed you down with another touch to your shoulder. You had tears of panic stinging in your eyes when you met his gaze, your mouth trembling.
“I just radioed in and put Loco and the rest of the security team on looking for Lila. She can’t have gotten far,” he said. 
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“Come on! Keep up with me, old man,” Slingshot taunted at Ben. His super flexibility allowed him to keep several steps ahead, dodging any attempts to grab him and any weapons fired with easy dips and playful deflection. 
“When I get my hands on you, you flaccid fuck, you won’t know your ass from your ball sack,” Ben growled. 
But he crashed into the wall when he took a corner too hard trying to tackle the other supe. He picked himself up from the debris of crumbled wall and plaster, ignoring Kimiko’s offer of a helping hand. 
“Big fucking talk from the walking AARP commercial,” Slingshot snorted. He turned around and once again prepared to run. “Try not to shatter a hip, asshole!”
He took off down another bend in the hallway. Meanwhile, Ben shook himself off and joined the others in running after this cocksucker. Ben looked over at Butcher.
“What’s your fucking plan?” he grated out. 
Butcher seemed to have an idea growing in his mind. “What’d she do to him in that elevator?”
“Tased his dick, by the sound of it,” Ben replied. He knew what weapons you kept in your purse, and that you'd know better than to fire a gun in an enclosed elevator. Butcher snapped his fingers.
“Electricity. Bloody brilliant,” he said. He pointed at Hughie and grabbed Frenchie by the collar. “You, with me. I’ve got an idea. The rest of ya, get him pinned down.”
“Easier said than done, motherfucker,” M.M. grumbled. But he followed Ben and Kimiko to find their errant supe. 
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Slingshot played a cocky game, but inside, there was fear. 
They’d caught him once, and now, this building was crawling with security, let alone the assholes chasing him.
He was panting for breath when he nearly ran straight into…a kid? 
She was wandering around, trying to open a locked door. He skidded to a stop in front of her, and she looked up at him wide-eyed. He tilted his head. She was a cute little thing with brown hair and green eyes. She wore a blouse with cartoon ducks on it over her jeans and sunshine-yellow shoes. 
“Hey, cutie. Where you going?” asked Slingshot. “Are you lost?”
“Looking for my mom,” she answered, a bit timidly. The supe gave her an easy smile; inside, he knew he’d just found his collateral, and his ticket out of here. 
“Okay. What’s your name?” he asked. 
“L…Lila,” she said. 
“Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he said, with all due charm. He struck a pose, with his fists held up to his waist. “I can help you, Lila. I’m a superhero.”
Her eyes widened. “Really? Like Daddy?”
“Oh, yeah. Your dad and I are friends.” Never mind that he had no fucking clue who her daddy was. He offered her his hand. 
Now, Lila knew not to talk to strangers, but if he knew her dad… 
After a moment of reluctant indecision, she took his hand. Slingshot tapered a smirk into a more friendly smile. 
“Let’s go find him.”  
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Ben was ahead of the pack, but he soon came to an abrupt stop with wider eyes. He finally found Slingshot, except he had Ben’s daughter by the hand. Slingshot wore a cocky grin as he took the child up into his arms. 
“Hey, guys. Who’s this little peanut belong to?” he asked. “Said she was looking for her daddy.” 
Ben’s breath turned to lead in his lungs. Lila’s eyes lit up with recognition when she saw him. 
“Daddy!”
Ben’s softer gaze shifted from her, hardening once it reached the other supe. 
“Let her go,” he growled lowly. 
Slingshot’s grin deepened incredulously as he laughed.
“Oh shit, she’s yours?” he exclaimed. “This’s just too fucking perfect.”
“Lila!” your shout came from behind Ben, and you stepped around M.M. and Kimiko.
Ben held out a hand to keep you at bay. He kept his eyes on Slingshot, but Ben heard your gasp. His stomach dipped, knowing your worry had to be reaching new heights as you took in the situation.
“Ben,” you uttered. 
“I’ve got this,” he said to you.
“You don’t got shit, old man,” Slingshot snapped. He shot you a smirk next. “She’s your bitch? Figures.”
“Just let her go,” you implored. You had tears brimming in your eyes. “We can negotiate your release if you promise to be more responsible.”
Ben shot you a glance then. He didn’t intend for this fucker to live, let alone walk the streets of New York again. But he supposed any bluff was worth it at this point.
Meanwhile, seeing the distress on her parents’ faces made Lila begin to break down into tears. She whined, pushing against the supe holding her, wanting to be let go. 
“It’s okay, sweetie,” Slingshot cooed. “You’re just gonna take a little trip with me.”
“No!” a ragged shout tore from your throat when he took a few backward steps down the hall. 
Ben held you back from following him, all while he tensed with rage. M.M. and Kimiko were also poised to try and stop the supe. But Slingshot tightened his hold on Lila in warning.
“Back the fuck off,” he demanded. “Once I get to JFK and get my ass on a plane, maybe, maybe you see your daughter aga—”
He had to stop short, as he sensed something just outside of his peripheral vision.
It was Butcher, coming at him to swing a baseball bat at the supe’s head.
You screamed in protest, but Butcher was relying on the supe’s reflexes to dodge the bat. He wasn’t disappointed. Slingshot dodged. Though in his distraction, it gave Ben the opening he needed to step into his orbit and land a solid punch across Slingshot’s face.
It not only cracked his jaw, but also caught him off guard enough for his grip on the child to loosen. Ben grabbed his daughter and turned her away in a protective embrace.
Then Frenchie brought Slingshot down with the prongs of a massive taser clipping onto his nipples. He jolted and screamed—and went down hard on the tile floor. 
While Hughie and M.M. ushered in the rest of the security team to swarm in and take the supe into custody, you raced forward to Ben and Lila in tears.
Lila was also crying and clinging to Ben’s neck, shaking like a leaf.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” he said quietly, so only she could hear. Lila whimpered and burrowed tighter against his neck.
Tears streamed down your face, but you tried to breathe through it. You rubbed her back and checked her over, making sure she wasn’t hurt. 
For Ben, the force of his relief was pounding in his ears. He briefly closed his eyes as he held his daughter closer. 
When he opened them again, he met your gaze. You couldn’t speak. All you could do was grab onto his wrist for support. He gave that to you, wrapping his free arm around your waist and pulling you into his side. 
“Frank,” he said. His voice was a sharp command. The other man was ready to carry out whatever Ben asked. He also looked relieved to see that Lila was all right.
“Pull the car around,” said Ben. Frank nodded, and went to do just that.
Ben turned to watch in satisfaction when Frenchie and M.M. hauled up a still twitching Slingshot. Butcher slapped a pair of electroshock handcuffs on him that would keep him better contained this time—courtesy of the S.A. armory. He nodded over at Ben, and the latter returned the gesture. 
You missed it all, as you were preoccupied with comforting your daughter.
“It’s okay, honey. We’re going home,” you gently whispered to Lila, who was still hiding her face in Ben’s neck. You shared a look with him, and he gave you a short nod. His hand moved to the small of your back, both protective and possessive as the three of you moved towards the garage exit. 
There Frank waited with the car that would take your family home.
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You watched Ben with the beginning of tears brimming in your eyes. You managed to hold them at bay while he set Lila down in her bed. You’d just finished giving her a bath and helping her get into her pajamas after a quiet, somewhat tense dinner. 
Lila still seemed upset in her unusually quiet mood, which you knew was understandable. Ben sat at her bedside and soothed a hand over her head, brushing her cheek with his thumb. 
“You’ve had a crazy friggin’ day, huh?” he asked. Lila didn’t want to look at him, but he encouraged it with gentle fingers brushing her chin, teasing the tip of her nose. She hinted at a smile and finally met his eyes. He smiled back at her, if more reserved. But his expression turned serious again.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. He could see it. She had been more or less fine throughout dinner, but now she’d turned quiet and withdrawn again. She only got like that when she was upset about something.
Lila toyed with the ear of her stuffed animal, Charlie. Frank had retrieved it for her from the daycare.
“Sorry I talked to strangers,” Lila mumbled.
You had to bite the inside of your lip so you wouldn’t cry. You came over to sit on the other side of her bed. You sniffed and shook your head, but Ben beat you to what you wanted to say. 
“You’re not in trouble, all right? We’re not mad,” he said. 
Lila’s lower lip wobbled. Ben sighed and picked her up, plopping her down in his lap. She hugged him as tight as she could and he held her back, warm and secure.  
“You know I’m always gonna be there to keep you safe. You never have to worry or be afraid,” he said. 
You carded your fingers through Lila’s hair so she knew you were there too. Usually, the roles were reversed, where you were doing the comforting and Ben was the solid support. Right now though, you just didn’t have the words. Not when guilt was eating you from the inside out.
Fortunately, your husband did have the words, after he heaved a sigh. 
“I might raise my voice, sometimes, but uh…you never have to be afraid of me either. Okay?” he said.
"Mhmm," Lila agreed.
You laid hand on Ben's arm, gently squeezing. He met your gaze, and knew what you were prodding with just that look in your eyes.
Briefly, he hesitated before he looked back down at his daughter.
"I'm sorry I scared you," he said.
Lila nodded against his chest. “It's okay.”
“Good,” he said, laying a kiss on her forehead. “All right, you ready to go to bed?”
She clung to him and made a sound of refusal. 
You were finally able to crack a smile. You leaned down by her ear. 
“You want Daddy to read you a story first?” you asked. 
Ben shot you a look at the way you volunteered him for that. He was tired and drained. 
But one hopeful, shiny look from his daughter, and he folded like a deck of cards.
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Later, when Lila was asleep, you tucked her in one last time and Ben turned out the light. He kept the door cracked open, just in case she called for either one of you tonight.
Then, somehow, you and Ben ended up in the kitchen instead of the bedroom. As exhausted as both of you were, you needed this moment to decompress, with one of your old favorite pastimes…
He broke out the whiskey while you found an appropriate midnight snack, and then a seat with him at the breakfast bar. The two of you shared a companionable silence, as well as a large bag of sea salt and vinegar chips. 
That was sort of how you felt inside.
“Today can’t happen again,” Ben said, breaking the silence. 
You looked over at him, but he was looking beyond you. Maybe so he didn’t have to show you how deeply he’d been rattled. You knew him far too well for that. 
“Of course not,” you replied. And you released a sigh. “So here’s what I’m thinking. From now on I’ll work from home, so I can watch Lila until she goes to preschool.”
Ben got ready to argue, but you held up a hand. The other went to rest over your belly. You had scheduled an ultrasound with Dr. Tonya Baker tomorrow, just to make sure all was well after this ordeal.
“I already plan to take my maternity leave when this guy rolls into town,” you said with a smile. “Then, when I’m ready, and if it’s feasible, I can continue to work from home until all the kids are in school.”
Ben’s lips twitched humorlessly. He should’ve known you’d continue making this a negotiation. He set down his glass, and he reached out to slide a hand over yours, across your belly. He took in a deep breath. But when he let it go, you sensed you still hadn’t convinced him.
“Listen, I know you don’t want me to work—” you began.
“It’s not that,” he said. He made sure you looked him in the eyes when he said it. “It’s not.”
Despite yourself, you read the sincerity in his words. It had you pausing, waiting for him to continue.
“You know damn well…that just being around me is dangerous,” he said. “To you, and to Lila. But you being connected with Supe Affairs, working these missions, even from behind a desk, it’s a fucking risk. It’ll always be a risk.”
You considered that with new understanding. You took his hand with both of yours.
“Ben, this life, this work…it’s the same for me as it is for you. It’s all I know how to do. It’s what I’m wired for. So that’s why it’s hard for me to turn down that dial,” you explained. “But look, I understand what you’re saying. Believe me, I do. And today…today was…”
Your breath hitched as tears stung in your eyes. Ben shook his head and tugged you closer.
“Come ‘ere,” he said.
You left your chair to go to him. You stood between his long legs while he pulled you into a warm embrace. Logically, you knew that what happened today wasn’t your fault. However, part of you still felt like a failure of a mother for underestimating the risks of having your daughter at the S.A.  
You should’ve known better, you berated yourself. And yet, it was Ben’s words that stopped your train of thought.
“Today wasn't on you,” he said. "Get that thought outta your head."
He knew you well too, and this was one of those times. You wept harder against him, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. He held you, comforted you until you began to calm down.
“Take your maternity leave early,” he said. His deep voice was a rumble. “You’re going to have your hands full with Lila when I’m not here. Unless we hire someone to help you.”
It was an idea you could consider, but who could you trust? That was the question. 
Maybe your mother? you thought. You knew she was thinking of retiring from her job in a couple of years anyway.
You sighed and slipped your fingers through Ben’s hair. Your hand came to rest on the back of his neck as you leaned against him.
When Lila came into your lives, you had been so excited to start a family that you hadn’t considered the non-physical side effects. Namely, the sacrifices you would have to make in order to keep your family safe. 
Before you met Ben, your job was your life. But today reminded you that your daughter…and your unborn son, were more important to you than your job. No matter how important that job might be for the rest of the world. 
“Let’s talk about this more tomorrow,” you said, shaking your head. “I can’t think anymore.”
After a beat of hesitation, he agreed with a nod. Like so many battles before, whatever compromise you and Ben finally reached would be hard won. His hand found your cheek and caressed your skin.
“You still try my fucking patience, you know that?” he muttered.
You smiled tiredly. “Did you really expect that to change?”
He scoffed. Even so, he guided you off his shoulder so that he could claim your lips. His kiss tasted like the burn of whiskey. You met his demanding lips in kind, though you were the first one to part from him slowly. 
“I love you,” you whispered a reminder. 
Ben nodded and pressed a kiss to your forehead. He lingered there for a moment, as if he could pause the world for a while. 
He eventually let out a breath through his nose and allowed himself to be honest.
“I love you too,” he said.
With that shared understanding, he stood from his seat. He drained the last of his glass before he bent to gather you up into his arms. You yelped in surprise, clinging to his shoulders.
“Time for some rest,” Ben said. There was a certain smile on his face, gentler than usual.
He forged a path towards the bedroom. You sighed and laid your head against his chest. 
For once, you didn’t argue with him.  
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AN: I've been wanting to put this one out for a while now. 💚💚 I so hope you enjoyed this chapter of the BMD verse! Do you like how their little family is evolving? 😘
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soldirboy · 26 days
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yeah i don't care..
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syrma-sensei · 7 months
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→ Home.
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gif credit.
pairing: soldier boy/ben x wife!reader.
rating: fluff, implied smut.
warning: bens's pov, very soft ben, implied pregnant sex, praising, horny reader, antiquated mentality....
word count: 2.4k
summary: ben's discovering new life affairs while expecting his first baby.
tagging: @zepskies
→ masterlist | ao3
Soldier Boy guzzled down his third raw drink before he decided to call it a day and go home. He took off his supe gear and changed into more casual clothes in the dressing room in his quarters at Vought's tower after he took a quick shower. He shook his head with a sneer when he tugged the shirt above his head, remembering her telling him —bossing him— that he wasn't to come home stinking with blood and cigars and whiskey and Vought. Soldier Boy didn't take shit from anyone, but he found himself helpless against her wishes—orders. He was grinning though, amusedly so. Sometimes he wondered where his obedient and good wife went. He liked that version of her, nonetheless.
Though he liked to think that his baby was igniting her wild spirit, his pretty wife seemed to have gotten quite sensitive to strong scents, and her stomach grew weak ever since he got her pregnant with their first child four months ago. It was chiselled in his mind; the memory of her hoping onto his chest with happy shrieks when he returned from work affirming the news.
He had been sensing the baby's presence for a week thanks to his superhuman senses before that, and he'd told her that night to go check on it with a doctor. They were eagerly trying to have a baby so it was of no surprise, but it still pulled a huge smile on his lips and made pride swell in his chest. He was going to be a father in nine months. The thing he wanted to be the most.
But as it turned out, pregnancy wasn't as magical as his mind fantasised to be. It wasn't all fuzzy and beautiful like he imagined. He cursed the damn commercials for that. Fucking marketing.
The first couple of months were rough. Morning sickness, vomiting, ungodly cravings at ungodly hours, horrendous mood swings, and worst of all; minimum intimacy. She'd become fragile unlike her nature. And she got overly concerned that he might hurt the baby whenever he suggested penetrative sex. Orals were, certainly, out of the equation. It was both frustrating and maddening to say the least. He was a fucking man and had needs. The best he could get was quick and not so enthusiastic handies from time to time when she could provide. Long story short, he was growing blue balls from the ordeal. Fuck, he used to make fun of men who couldn't get laid properly. The irony had such an impact on his ego; his pride of being a fucking man.
It was not easy for someone like him to stay faithful to his partner. He rarely recognised commitment before he met her, and being surrounded by blatant temptations all the time didn't make things any better. He could have anyone at any time, ladies would eagerly kneel and suck him off without a question if he wanted them to. But he'd be damned if he wasn't in charge of his own self. He'd be damned if he dared to break her heart. He'd be damned if he ruined his family, a family he never thought he'd ever have, for such vagaries.
In time, however, pregnancy did prove itself to be the most beautiful of all affairs. Surprisingly so. Whenever he spooned her up hugging her from behind, he found odd tranquillity of hearing hers and the babe's rhythmical heartbeats, or when he caressed her bumping tummy, feeling his child's life forming inside of her body, a creature they both made, lack of sex seemed to be durable and trivial at some point. Something he himself wouldn't believe before. But here he was. His disgust and appal from what pregnancy entailed gradually dissipated and were replaced with zeal and thrill. And most certainly, he enjoyed the changes of her body the most. Ben just loved the way her boobs were swelling up with milk, and the way her stomach was flourishing with his child. Boob massage was something he greatly took pleasure in. Kneading her sore breasts while hearing her moans of relief. He'd come to learn that intimacy could be found in many other things than sex.
Ben noticed he'd come to hating every moment he spent away from them. His temper got much worse, his teammates observed. And he became more aggressive than he already was when fighting crime. The happiest moment of his day was when he dropped the shield and took the helmet off to head home, where his beautiful wife would be eagerly waiting to have dinner with him even though most of the nights he'd come home and find her dozing off on the couch where she'd been waiting for him. He'd carry her to their bedroom and have dinner by himself — he skipped that very often — then slip right behind her on the bed holding her close to his body. The concept of coming back home to someone was so much alluring to him. He felt his life was complete. Real.
Ben arrived at their penthouse, assuming he'd find her soundly sleeping while she stayed awaiting him. He didn't announce his return loudly as he used to do before the pregnancy. He didn't want to wake her up. But much to his surprise — and delight, Ben found the place dimly lit with scented candles, sensuous silence prevailing within the air.
Ben's eyes glimmered, and an instant wolfish grin slipped into his lips when his eyes landed on his wife's figure as she clambered down the stairs. A thin, short gown with a raunchy red colour hugged her frame, its fabric was so thin that he could see her skin glowing through the red. Her breasts were full, putting her cleavage on more display. Whereas the bump of her belly was deliciously visible. Her hair was neatly styled and spruced up and her pretty face was elegantly painted with make-up.
“Welcome home, Ben,” She warbled with a smile, eyes filled with sultry desire as she strolled down to him. He was dazzled by her appearance, he was practically eating her with his eyes. Fuck, pregnancy did make her much prettier. “Hope you didn't have dinner yet 'cause I made you something special tonight.”
Her palm grazed his stubbled cheek. Ben leaned into her touch, pressing a gentle kiss to her palm, a grin gracing his mouth. “'Course I didn't. Why the fuck would I eat outside when I have a capable wife like you at home?”
She giggled gleefully at his statement as he pulled her flush against his body. He eyed her with a hazed gaze. Her mouth was luring him in, deliciously so. He liked that lipstick shade on her lips so much. He couldn't but to give in to the utter temptation. Ben tilted his head down and captured them in a burning kiss. An instant moan escaped her throat as his mouth passionately pressed to hers. Her arms encircled his neck, hands combing through his brown hair. He synced their heads for a better angle, and deepened the kiss, tongue slipping into her warm mouth. His hands brushed her sides then her ass.
He broke the kiss momentarily and she gasped vehemently. He could hear the rapid pace of her heart and the gushing blood through her vein, pooling down in her groin. He crushed her lips again, hands travelling up to remove the dress but she squealed and pulled back.
“Benjamin, dinner's gonna get cold!” She laughed again when he buried his face in her neck, kissing her skin softly.
“Is that really what you're fucking concerned about now?” He grumbles in a teasing tone.
She giggled, “Should I be concerned about something else—woah!” Ben grabbed her hips and lifted her effortlessly, heading to the living room with her pretty legs around his hips. His lips plundering hers again all the way until they reached the couch where he sat with her straddling his lap. The kiss went wild once they settled comfortably on the couch. His big hands stroked her thighs ardently. They trailed up to her ass giving it a firm squeeze and she moaned in his mouth, plucking the rim of her satin panties. He smirked into the kiss, fingers tracing down to her core. His grin widened when he met her bare cunt.
“Oh, baby,” He rasps when she rolls her hips slowly, pressing her cunt on his clothed cock, “Aren't you a pretty fucking tease?” He tugged at the lip of the crotchless panties, a mischievous grin playing on his mouth.
She guffawed with a coquettish tilt of her head, and his cock twitched in an immediate response. However, the innocent look on her face opposed the tortuous pace of her hips. She was fucking tantalising him with those hips. And he fucking liked it despite the screaming urge growing in his chest to flip her over and fuck her raw. Oh, she did like it rough, the little slut. She liked to be beneath him and beg him to go harder and faster, to yank her hair and make her choke on his dick. She loved how he manhandled her with his superhuman strength despite being only a human, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't take great pleasure in it too. Ben's nothing if doesn't live to be in charge. He'd been shocked that a tiny woman like her could handle him as such. But he was quick to remember that she was with his fucking child. He couldn't go rough on her like he used to do even if they both craved it.
She didn't stop her torment as her delicate hands rested on his shoulders for support. He could smell the sweet scent of her arousal soaking his crotch and he growled, “Holy fuck, you gonna let me fuck that pretty pussy of yours, or you planning on making me cream my pants?”
Her lips twisted wickedly, “Depends,”
“On fucking what?” He grunted, brows furrowed, puzzled. He was way too hard and drunk by her scent to clearly think or read between her lines, “Baby, you're fucking killing me here.”
“Aw, am I to seal the greatest era of America's history?” She giggled again, “What an honour.”
Then it clicked. The fucking slut. She was tempting him to ravish her. Maybe he should, but again, he worried about her and the child. Because honestly, he wasn't so sure if he could restrain himself if he unbridled that side of his.
Then his mouth splitted in a huge grin, brushing his cheek to hers to grumble in her ear, “The only honour you're gonna get is milking my cock empty in that slutty pussy of yours.” He chuckled triumphantly when he sensed her shivering in delight. Leaning his head backward, he saw her chewing on her lower lip adorably with a cute pinkish red dusting across her face, whereas her eyes were searing with covetousness. Ben pecked her nose and lifted her up again, gently. She trilled a series of choppy laughters and playfully kicked her legs when he carried her to their bedroom.
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Needless to say, she took whatever honour he bestowed upon her like a champ.
He was craving a whiff of a cigar. He used to smoke after a good fuck in bed, she'd even share him a couple of drags sometimes. But since it was off the table — temporarily — he focused on and enjoyed her fingers running on his chest.
Fuck, pregnant sex did feel amazing. He gotta admit. He did hear from here and there that a woman with child, at some point of her pregnancy, would be touched by sudden and high libidinousness. But fuck, didn't that catch him off guard. And fuck, if he didn't enjoy it down to the last minute detail. And dare he say, it was the best sex he ever had. It was perfect; she was perfect.
Never did he think that he'd find home, his real home in a simple elementary school teacher he met on one of his tours throughout the country. A beautiful and smart woman who always kept him on his toes and had him wrapped around her pretty fingers.
Ben smiled and kissed the crown of her head, and slowly, it turned into a trail of kisses down her face. Then he captured her lips, and soon enough, they were engaging in a heated make-out session.
“Ben,” She whispered as she gazed at him, voice a bit hoarse from screaming and crying beneath him for hours.
His hand was rubbing circles on her ass languidly, “What is it, dollface?” He drawls with a thick voice.
“Sorry for not being a good wife for you the last couple of months.” She said meekly, bringing his hands to cradle them in hers, while he just frowned at her words, “They were tough times on me, on us.” She sighed, pressing light kisses on his rough hands, “But everything's gonna be set right again, I promise.”
Ben's frown only got deeper when he noticed the lick of fear and desperation in her eyes and voice. Fuck, she was scared shitless. Fuck, fuck, fuck. His wife was scared if he was screwing around on her because of her lack of attention due to the pregnancy, for she used to shower him with doting and devotion as a good wife did. Fuck, did he, by any mean, do anything wrong to arise such qualms in her? He certainly did not. Then he fucking remembered that nasty reputation of his that proceeded him.
Fuck, gotta reassure her and chill her the fuck down. He can't have her in such a position. He can't have his home in such a precarious, dark place. Not after what the two of them had done to build what they had up. He wouldn't allow it.
“Hey,” He passed rough-padded thumbs under the lines of her eyes, palms caressing her cheeks, “Nothing went fucking wrong to set back right, sweetheart,” Then he gave her belly tender strokes, “You're an amazing wife,”
She was; everyday she woke up, five in the morning, to prepare him a delicious-ass breakfast. She took it upon herself to be his barber and shaved his beard almost everyday and trimmed his hair every now and then. She was patient when he wasn't. She embraced him when he was practically a walking ticking bomb. She patched him up — when needed — at night when he'd return to her roughed up from fighting crimes. She soothed him down when frustrated and angry. She took his bad temper and relieved it thoroughly. She was everything. She was home.
Ben's finger flicked her nose playfully, “As I'm fucking sure yer gonna be an amazing hot momma,”
Ah, here it was, the sheepish smile that reached her eyes. He'd fucking cherish it forever.
He kissed her forehead, “You're perfect; my perfect wife, my perfect home.”
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thebiggerbear · 4 months
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Soldier Boy x Reader - Prompt Response - "I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that."
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Summary: You're pissed that he put himself at risk yet again.
A/N: Prompt from @creativepromptsforwriting (#941). This was too much fun to play with. Soldier Boy is something, that's for sure lol. Hope this is alright.
Thank you to my beta Em for her services. You rock, girl!
Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female!Reader; Soldier Boy x Female!Supe!Reader
Warnings: mentions of violence; mentions of sex; implied sex; Soldier Boy being himself; language (I guess?)
Word Count: 1881
SB Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @brightlilith
"I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that."
Beau version | Dean version | Jenny version | Jason version | Tom version | CJ version | Rachel version | Anael version | SDV Leah version | Alec version
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You stormed into the suite you and Soldier Boy shared in Vought Tower. The supe strolled in after you, a scowl on his face as he shut the door behind him.
You waved around your hand and suddenly, a glass flew out of the cabinet, landing on the counter. A bottle of the finest whiskey you owned made its way from the bar as ice cubes from the fridge settled softly into the glass. Once the whiskey was poured and the bottle was safely settled beside it, you held out your hand and the drink slowly fit itself into your palm. You took a sip, letting the liquid travel down to the pit of your stomach, and relished the fire it stoked; it was a fire that had already started during your mission.
“Got one of those for me, doll?”
You scoffed and walked away from the kitchen—away from him. “You’ve got working limbs. Use them and make it yourself.” You didn’t need to turn around to know that that response pissed him off. Well, too damn bad; you were pissed as well.
You headed into the bedroom and, heaving a deep breath, you began to take off your gear. Soldier Boy came in behind you, but you refused to turn around.
“Come on, you’re making a big deal over nothing.”
“Nothing?” You spun on your heel, glaring at him. “You could have been killed, Ben!”
He was glaring right back at you. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t. I did what I had to do to take that fascist fuck down.” 
You let out a frustrated huff as you slammed your gloves down onto the dresser next to you. “You are the most stubborn, pig-headed jackass I’ve ever met! You just refuse to hear what I’m saying to you!”
Hands grabbed onto your hips and spun you around, bringing you face to face with a very turned on Ben. Of course. You knew he loved it when you would get angry since he could “fuck it right out of you,” as he’d once told you when you’d asked why he enjoyed riling you up so much. “Best fucking ride I get to take,” were his exact words. He’d given you a salacious grin and then that deep laugh when you’d smacked his bare shoulder. The action didn’t, and wouldn’t, hurt him in the slightest; in fact, he’d pulled you closer and you had taken the opportunity to run your fingers through his sweaty locks.
Ben leaned in to kiss you, thinking things were about to pop off once again (he was pretty sure he’d never seen you this pissed off before and he wanted to skip the yelling altogether, get right to the fun part), but you prevented him from doing so. The impatient frown you’d expected was in place and you cupped his cheeks to meet his eyes. He knew this was a sign that you wanted him to really listen to you.
“Ben, you can’t keep doing things like this,” you told him in a softer tone but laced with as much firmness as before. “You’re not invincible, you know that.”
His lips lifted up into a smirk. “Pretty damn close, though.”
You let out a sigh of frustration and decided you’d had enough. A bluish white haze came over your vision and you saw Ben’s eyes widen as your palms began to glow. You showed him your perspective of the day’s events: how you’d watched the missile launched by the townspeople, heading straight towards the building he was in; how you’d been unable to stop it but still slowed it down enough so that more people could get out of there; how everyone had been clear except him and the asshole dictator and their regime that he’d been ordered to kill; how you’d screamed for him to get clear because you couldn’t hold it back much longer; how you’d finally collapsed because you had no juice left, only able to helplessly watch as the weapon slammed into the building. You let him feel your heartbreak, your grief, your pain from thinking he was dead. And then you shared with him the massive relief you felt once he managed to dig his way out, dirty but unscathed nonetheless—and then your anger once he told you he’d heard you yell for him but he had to take down the dictator. He chose to stay inside, knowing he could very well die, and he was okay with that. He simply snorted at the idea that he should run for cover, for safety, and that enraged you.
You ended this viewing with memories you swore you’d never show him (but would if that’s what it took to get your point across). You both watched as you first met—your apparent disgust towards him; your perception of him changing over time; the first time you’d let him into your bed, how you two grew closer; the look on his face when you demanded exclusivity or you’d walk after you’d found him with a receptionist from the 28th floor willingly on her knees; the contentment you felt being partners with him both inside the job and out of it; your worry for him each time he separated from you on a mission; the threats you’d made to Stan Edgar if he ever tried to have another Nicaragua happen again and the hell you’d unleash if he did; the tenderness you watched him with as he slept after having more nightmares; your compassion for him the one time he’d mentioned his father to you; the enjoyment of spending time with him watching things from the past and watching him laugh or enthusiastically tell you about that time, and finally, the kicker — the love you’d started to feel for him. You moved your hands away, the glow disappearing as did your haze, and you turned away from him. You hadn’t meant to show him that last part or let him in that deeply. You had been waiting for the right time, which you were pretty sure would be never, but when your emotions ran high like they did today, it was harder to keep everything behind the wall you usually kept in place.
Instead, you quietly cleared your throat and decided to act as if he hadn’t just heard those last thoughts. “You get it now? How dangerous that was? How dangerous it is every time you do some stupid crap like that?”
He gripped your chin and forced you to meet his gaze again. 
“Ben, you can’t keep—”
He cut you off by leaning in and kissing you. Instead of turning it dirty like he usually did or ramping it up, he pulled back after a minute and stared into your eyes. “I do, too, you know,” he murmured.
You were afraid to ask. Still, you had to know. “Yeah?”
He ran his thumb tenderly over your bottom lip. “Yeah.” You studied him as he studied you in return. For once, you didn’t see any hint of amusement, bullshit, or even lust. He was telling you the truth.
You lifted a hand to run your fingers through his hair, which made him shut his eyes halfway; you knew he liked it when you did that. “Then you can’t keep doing things like this.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and he lowered his forehead onto yours. “I thought you were dead today,” you let out in a broken whisper. He had really scared the shit out of you… You had been beyond devastated for those few minutes.
“I’m right here in front of you, sweetheart,” he reassured you, giving you a sweet smile that you only saw when it was just the two of you. 
“But what if—”
“I’ll be more careful from now on,” he promised, kissing you once more. He then grinned wolfishly. “So, do those magic hands of yours work both ways?”   
You knew they did but you’d never told him that. He’d only seen you use them to insert images sometimes into your targets to paralyze them or make them vulnerable, but you’d never actually used them on him before. “They can,” you answered carefully. “But I don’t usually do that. I don’t like reading someone’s thoughts without their consent.”
“So all this time we’ve been rolling around, you’ve never once tuned in?”
“No,” you insisted, offended and moving away from him. “I can only imagine the jizz-soaked apocalyptic ride through unforgettable hell that would be. There probably isn’t enough alcohol in the world to try and wipe those memories from my mind.”
He caught your wrist and gently placed your hand against his bearded cheek. “Read mine now.”
“Ben,” you pleaded. “Please don’t make—”
“Trust me.” He leaned in closer. “Read ‘em.”
You weren’t sure you wouldn’t be retching after this. He’d literally just learned you loved him and he implied he felt the same, so if he showed you the highlights of his glory days, you swore you’d nut punch him after you got sick and then force him to relive your own highlights and how much you very much still enjoyed those from time to time. Usually, of course, when you were alone in the shower.
You took a deep breath and opened the connection. You were suddenly flooded with images of your greatest hits: him going to town on you and being merciless, making you cry out his name in passion; the furniture you’d broken during your escapades and the walls you’d cracked, even one floor you’d broken through (right into the middle of a table being used for a board meeting but that didn’t stop either of you—if anything, Ben enjoyed everyone watching him give it to you and making you almost feral in chasing your high); you taking charge and putting him on his back, your eyes having a bluish white glow as you smirked wickedly down at him before taking what was yours and truthfully had been yours since you’d said you wanted him all to yourself. You could hear your cries and moans echoing in your ears along with his grunts and yells and dirty talk you both loved. You could hear other sounds too—sounds that made your cheeks warm—and you could feel the lust and heat rising within you as that same bluish white haze settled upon your vision.
You suddenly broke the connection. His brow furrowed in confusion before you growled out, “Suit off. Now.”
His typical smirk returned as he began to undo his chest plate.
“Not fast enough.” You waved your hand and Ben’s suit undid itself at the same time yours did. The shield planted itself in the corner where it usually sat while the clothes situated themselves beside it. Both of you were stark naked but that wasn’t enough. You flicked a finger and Ben was immediately shoved back onto the bed, right where you wanted him. You clambered up on top of him and positioned yourself, his hands on your hips to help you, when you leaned down to look into his eyes.
“I hate you.”
His grin was wide, knowing you definitely didn’t mean it. “You have a weird way of showing that.”
You snorted and kissed him, taking what you now knew was undoubtedly yours.
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anundyingfidelity · 1 month
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AFFECTION — Soldier Boy
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Summary: During a mission, Soldier Boy receives a hug from you unexpectedly. He likes it.
Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female supe!reader.
Word count: 0.9k
Warnings: canon violence and language, reader is kinda hurted, descriptions of blood and stuff, AU where Ben is working with the team on missions (which is what should've happened on the show btw), Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy lmao, Ben and reader are totally opposites and I live for that. Based on this post.
Note: soooo I'm still making some arrangements to my Soldier Boy long fic and instead I have this short drabble in the meantime. Hope you enjoy it hehe.
the boys/jackles tags: @k-slla
(if anyone would like to be added to my tags just tell me^^)
☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !
GEN MASTERLIST!
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You groanned, feeling the hard wall hit against your back. It was hard to believe but you thought probably you wouldn't go out of this alive. Your body ached and not even your strenght could stop this guy.
Fucking Butcher, why did you have to follow him to suicide again? Just a couple of cunts, he said. But he forgot to mention they had a weird improved dosis of V injected.
You fell to the ground as the man walked towards you. He was extremely tall and well-buff. No sense the Compound V on his system made him better, or at least that's what he thought. He was tossed to the ground by your side, and you crawled to the corner of the small room.
The distance was not enough to let you run away. You stayed there, watching Soldier Boy's big frame over the man. He used his shield, beting him to death and destroying his face and neck during the process. You were so damn sure his loud groans of pain would remain on your mind at least for a couple of days.
"Fucking pussy," the old man said, wipping some blood off his face. He got on his feet ungracefully and grabbed his shield back. He turned to look at you, still sitting on the floor. "You okay?"
You nodded. "Yeah."
He held you a bloody hand, which you took to stand up. There was an akward silence as you and Ben left the small room, you followed him around the dirty basement, filled with lifeless bodies and fluids on the ground, to meet with Butcher and Hughie.
"Guess those were all," Butcher announced.
"I have the remaining dosis," you took the tube from the pocket of your pants and showed them with a smile on your face. "Was the last one."
"Excellent," Butcher grabbed it and tossed it to Hughie, who saved the tube on a bag.
"We made it out, huh," you mumbled.
"Well, we're still down here, so," Hughie shrugged and three pairs of eyes narrowed at him. "What?"
"Just think positively, for once," you pleaded with a fake sharp tone. "Isn't that hard, y'know."
Ben rolled his eyes.
"We're on a fucking shithole, the kid's right. Let's go now before any of you fuck this up," he ordered and passed by between Butcher and Hughie, hitting his shoulder intentionally in the process.
You quickly followed behind his long soldier strides. "Wait!"
Soldier Boy scoffed and closed his eyes slowly only to open them again. You stood on his way with a big smile and wide eyes. Bruises and blood adorned your face and neck, your clothes were also splattered with dry blood and dirt after killing those clandestine stupid supes on an undercover mission at night, and still you acted like nothing had happened. He stood in place, with Hughie and Butcher standing behind expecting what the fuck you'd be doing this time. Sometimes he thought you were so fucking annoying.
"The fuck you want?"
You opened your lips to say something but nothing came out. Once you closed them, you beamed again and closed the distance between him and you. You wrapped your arms around his strong waist and rested your grubby check against his chest. He tensed visibly under your hug and after a moment you pulled away, your hands behind your back with a shy smile. Hughie and Butcher were clearly holding back a good laugh. They knew better not to mock Soldier Boy, not yet though.
Ben blinked a couple of times, trying to process what happened.
"What the fuck was that?"
You giggled. "Affection."
He wrinkled his nose. "Disgusting."
You gasped and faked sadness on your voice. "Why? I was just saying 'thank you for saving my ass'."
"It's fucking nothing," he rolled his eyes and started to walk again to guide the team outside, with the other two men with playful smirks on their faces following behind.
"Ben!" you quickly caught his pace to stand by his side. "Thank you, okay? Probably you don't like physical contact but I do. And this is how I show others that I care about them and that I'm thankful. I also give hugs because I like them and–"
"Shh!" Ben raised his hand, suddenly stopping his tracks by the end of the stairs that'd lead you outside. He turned and looked at you with that grumpy face of his. "I said you're welcome, sweetheart. Now we need to go, you can talk to me about your hugs shit later."
He pointed to Hughie and Butcher. "Now, you, cocksuckers, go up."
Butcher grinned, going first. "Sure, cap."
"You shut up," Soldier Boy warned, Hughie gulped and nodded, and made his way up on the stairs.
You stood there, with a smile on your lips. Always that fucking, idiotic, stupid smile, even after hard missions like the one you just had. It was like if you were the only one who didn't seem scared of him or anything else. Sure, you were a supe and a smart asset on the team. But still, a very peculiar lady through his eyes.
He sighed and rolled his eyes. Once Butcher and Hughie were out of sight he finally talked.
"Do it again."
"Excuse me?"
"The stupid hug, do it again."
You raised your eyebrows, eyes bright as you realized his request. "Really?!"
"God, woman. Do I need to fucking repeat my—?"
His words were cut by your strong hug. You crashed against his frame so hard he lost balance for a bit. He was certainly surprised by how warm your hug it actually felt. You angled your eyes to see his face.
"Thanks!"
You let him go and got up the stairs. He barely curved his lips at how happy you climbed them. Yeah, well he actually liked your stupid hugs.
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soldier boy / reader
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