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slut-for-evans-stan · 6 months

Text

Mission Accomplished

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader

Word count: 3.4k+

Summary: Ben and you can't stay in the same room without wanting to rip each other's hearts out. The Boys, tired of dealing with you, decide to take matters into their own hands by tricking you two into completing your most crucial mission yet— resolving your problems. One thing leads to another and you discover that there was an easier, much more enjoyable method to resolve everything between you all along. (I'm sorry I suck at summaries.)

Warnings: SMUT!!!! (18+), Enemies to Lovers, Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy, Dirty talk, oral (m+f rec), fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it fellas), hate fucking!? (kind of), rough sex, swearing, choking, squirting, creampie.

a/n: this is my very first time writing smut. Not proofread, please pardon me for errors if any! I tried my best :')

I'd really appreciate if you could like, comment and/or reblog, it'll make me really happy <3

Being a Supe with extraordinary powers didn't mean you were ready to exploit people for clout, with how things were at Vought. So when Starlight and Hughie learnt that you declined Ashley's offer to have you join the Seven, they convinced you to join hands with The Boys to ensure that the arrogant liars claiming to be "Saviours of the World" got what they deserved. Despite feeling a bit unwelcome at first due to Butcher's distant behaviour, you quickly settled in and felt accepted, and connected to everyone in the team, everyone except the newest member to join forces with you all to help in taking down Homelander and others; Soldier Boy.

In the dimly lit room, stood Soldier Boy in his silk robe, a cigarette in one hand, one leg on the bed, the other supporting his weight on the floor; his back facing the door. Upon hearing a soft knock, he turned around with a smug grin on his face. He began,

"Well, hello there gorgeous! You've sure kept me waiting long enough for someone who made eager promises to choke on my dick."

Unamused, and somewhat disgusted by his comment, you shot him a stern look,

"I'm not here for your entertainment, I need to run a few tests on you. So it'll be nice if you'll please spare a few minutes before you run off to get your dick wet. We need to be sure that you're not going to explode and kill us all."

Soldier Boy's smirk echoed through his room as he eyed you with an amazed expression. Undeterred, he sauntered over to you, leaning in and mistaking your seriousness for a mere challenge.

"Sure. Whatever it is, let's get it over with. Maybe after this, you and I could-"

You cut him off with an icy glare

"Save the charm for someone who cares. I don't have time for this bullshit, we've a mission coming up."

From your very first meeting that started with a misunderstanding, it would've been an understatement to say that Soldier Boy annoyed every living cell in your body. You were both constantly arguing and bickering about something or the other, always at each other's throats.

Soldier Boy's deep, intimidating voice echoed through the room, your comment having hit a nerve.

"You know what, you're insufferable."

"At least I'm not stuck up." he shot back.

What should've been a meeting to discuss the upcoming mission, turned into yet another baseless argument between the two of you. Making your teammates uncomfortable with every passing moment. Hughie, Frankie, Kimiko and others exchanged uneasy glances as the tension thickened. You continued,

"I can't believe I've to be stuck with an unbearable asshole as you. Butcher I think I'm gonna skip this mission. Don't want us to end up in another mess like the last time."

At this point, it seemed like you were both minutes away from strangling each other. Soldier boy chuckled,

"Why, you're so intimidated by a real hero you want to hide away like a pussy?"

Eyebrows raised, you retorted, "Real hero!? More like a reckless liability. I've seen toddlers with better impulse control."

Sensing a storm brewing, Hughie spoke with a shaky voice, attempting to intervene and diffuse the situation. "Can we focus, guys? We have a mission-"

Your gaze never wavered from the supe. "I'll focus when he stops acting like he's better than everyone else. He is not the only one with superpowers here, he might be strong but he doesn't scare or intimidate me in the slightest."

Rolling his eyes, Soldier Boy muttered, "I wouldn't need to if you could follow a plan for once in your life."

Butcher commented shutting you all up "Oi. Enough! No one is backing out. You two should go fuck it out or something, whatever issues you stupid cunts have with each other. Don't need any fuck ups in the mission."

The tension spilled into the supposed battlefield, your bickering a dangerous undertone to the chaos around you. Clashing on missions, your mutual disdain fielding your actions, each vying to outdo the other. Yet beneath the surface, a spark lingered, an undeniable attraction that you both, despised and desired, but neither of you wanted to acknowledge.

On a particularly precarious mission, your incessant bickering almost jeopardized the entire operation.

Amidst the mayhem, you found yourself pinned down by one of the opponents, wounded and unable to use your powers, and Soldier boy reluctantly came to your rescue.

You grunted, "I didn't need your help."

He shot back, "Don't get used to it. I'm saving the mission, not your sorry ass."

Watching the scene unfold from a distance, your teammates exchanged knowing looks. After the mission, they decided they'd have enough, and decided to take matters into their own hands, realising that the unresolved tension between you two threatened not just personal dynamics but the success of missions itself.

On Butcher's suggestion, the team tricked the two of you into thinking there was another mission but instead locking you up in a safe house together,

"Sort this out, or we'll all end up as collateral damage."

warned Hughie before haphazardly shutting the door and leaving, forcing you to confront your issues, facing a choice: either talk and resolve the conflict or risk tearing each other apart. Silence filled the room. However, it was short lived.

Taking a deep breath, you plopped on the sofa across from where he sat and spoke as calmly as you could.

"Great, those little shits tricked us."

Soldier Boy scowled, "This is ridiculous. I don't need couple's therapy, I need a way out of here. I'm gonna beat the shit out of these fucknuts."

This made you roll your eyes and cross your arms. "Maybe if you weren't so intolerable, we wouldn't be stuck in this situation in the first place."

As another argument filled the space, the air in the small living room of the safe house shifted. Soldier Boy's tone somewhat softened, revealing a vulnerability he rarely showed.

"You think I enjoy being like this? Constantly on edge, wondering if I'll turn into a goddamn weapon."

You sighed, your defenses momentarily crumbling.

"I didn't sign up for this either, you know. Being a supe's babysitter wasn't in my job description."

As you bickered, underlying desire simmered beneath the surface. Soldier Boy's gaze lingered a moment too long, making a very visible flush rise in your cheeks.

A smug grin playing on his lips, as he said,

"You can't resist me, can you? Admit it, there's something between us, more serious than all this bickering. You know, I think you want me-"

You cut him off, but your voice wavered. "Keep dreaming, I still can't stand you." This remark gave rise to another banter.

"Don't get over yourself. I was only pulling your leg. You're insufferable."

Accusations started flying like daggers, each word cutting deeper than the last. You walked into the kitchen, grabbing a beer from the fridge, making your way back into the living room, catching him intently staring at you. Frustration morphed into a heated exchange of longing glances.

Tension crackled in the air, and just when it seemed the room might implode, his expression shifted.

He got up from the sofa, walking over to you, cornering you till your back hit the wall. He leaned in, his eyes darkening with a growing desire, his voice dropping to a low, almost conspiratorial tone.

"You know what? Maybe you're right. I can't stand you, because everytime I look at you, this is all I want to do."

You arched an eyebrow, caught off guard. "Wait, what?" But before you could process what was happening, his lips crashed against yours in a passionate kiss, making the beer bottle fall from your hands, effectively silencing any protests. You caught hold of the shirt he was wearing, kissing him back with equal fervour, savoring the moment as if it was a dream that would end all too soon. All your pent up anger and frustration showed up as the two of you desperately tore at each other clothes, never once breaking the kiss. A battle of tongues. He only pulled back for a second, with a sly grin on his face, his eyes dark, pupils dilated with glimmers of lust.

"There, no need to argue when we can do this instead. We should've figured this out sooner." Rubbing you over your panties with two of his fingers, he groaned.

"You're such a slut. So wet already and I haven't even touched you. You want to get railed till you can't walk, don't you?"

Before you had a chance to say anything, he reclaimed your lips in a hunger fuelled kiss. The room once filled with tension, now crackled with a different kind of energy. Pieces of both your clothings flew across the room. Soldier boy lifted you up and carried you to the small table in the kitchen and set you down hurriedly. The two of you continued to kiss while he rid you both of the remaining pieces of clothing. He kissed you like a mad man, biting and marking every inch of your skin he could in his desperate need to be close to you. Starting from your neck, moving to your tits, taking one nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting it while palming and squeezing the other roughly, then switching and doing the same to the other one. He moved back up to place another rough kiss to your lips, both of you moaning and biting each other's tongues and lips, intoxicated with the feeling of being so close. With an animalistic growl he parted, giving you a look so intense, it could scare the bravest of people.

"When you feel the need to scream, moan my name. Scream it as loud as you can."

With that he roughly nudged your legs apart as wide as they could go and dived right in, eating you out like man starved, licking and sucking your most sensitive parts like it was his last meal. You pulled his hair, legs shaking and trembling with pleasure. His gruff beard giving you a delicious burn, that would heal in no time. He started flicking your clit with his tongue and entered two of his fingers inside you, moving them in and out rapidly. When he added two more fingers, you lost it. Screaming his name and cumming all over his face, your legs wrapped around his head, making it impossible for him to move away.

"Fuck. Ben. I can't-"

you tried pulling away but he didn't stop even then, holding you down with his arms, making you cum two more times before finally deciding to let go. You were dazed in pleasure, but still wanted more. Jumping down the table, and on your knees, you made eye contact with him as you slowly took his long, thick and veiny cock in your hand, stroking him and giving a few kitten licks from the base to the tip and sucking off the beads of precum, moaning at the salty taste, making him groan. You then looked up at him, taking him as far as you could before pulling back again and asking him to fuck your face. He hesitated for a second but his resolve crumbled as soon as you opened your mouth, showing him you were waiting for him. He grabbed your head with both his hands and pushed himself into your mouth, roughly thrusting in and out again and again, moaning your name, cussing like a maniac. You could tell he was close, and then he held your head as close as possible, making you gag a little, his eyes closing, his head thrown back, as ropes of his cum shot down your throat.

In ragged breaths, he said "Be a good little slut and swallow it all."

As you did, you opened your mouth with your tongue out, showing no remnants of his release. He chuckled, pulling you up by your arms, surprising you with a softness in his gaze as he asked

"You sure you want to go further? If you don't, we'll stop right here and pretend this never happened-" you cut him off with an aggressive kiss "Fuck me as hard as you can. I won't break. Take all your frustrations out on me."

With that he smirked and rapidly turned you around, bending your back and shoving your face on the table with his hand, setting it for support right by your head. He entered you with one brutal thrust, making the both of you moan and groan loudly, not giving you a second to adjust as he started ramming his cock into you, hard and deep, his hips moving at an inhuman speed.

"That's it. This is what you wanted right? Now take it. I don't think I'm ever going to let you go after this. You feel so good. Gonna make you my personal little fuck toy. Such a perfect fit."

Hearing all the filth leave his mouth made you clench around him, making him throw his head back in pleasure, never once letting his pace falter.

"Ah you love this. I can tell by the way your tight pussy's choking my dick."

At this point, all rational thoughts had left your brain and all you could do was moan and revel in the pleasure he was giving you. One thing you knew for sure was that he had ruined everyone else for you. After a few moments he moved the hand on your back between your legs to rub your clit and you started screaming in pleasure, feeling yourself flying close to the edge. As soon as Ben realised how close you were, he pulled out and turned you around, lifting you on the table and onto your back, swiftly entering you again.

"I know you're close. I wanna see your face when you cum all over me."

He moved his hand back between your legs to rub your clit in circles, while his other hand moved to your neck, choking you, as he went back to thrusting at his original, rough pace. This new angle somehow making him go deeper than before, hitting that one spot that made you see stars.

"Fuck. I don't think I can last long either."

To that, you finally managed to say

"Cum with me."

which sounded more like a moan than a sentence. You both looked into each other's eyes, moaning, grabbing each other, raking your nails all over his gorgeous, broad shoulders, not breaking the eye contact once. After a particularly hard thrust, you felt a funny sensation, one that you have rarely ever felt, only while pleasing yourself and before you knew, you screamed and started squirting your release, coming undone while Ben kept thrusting into you.

"Oh yes. Fuck. That's so hot baby. Cum all over me. I don't think I'll ever get enough of the look on your face right now. I think I've finally managed to shut you up, fucked your brains out. Fuck I'm cumming."

His thrusts grew frantic, and much harder than before, kissing you roughly, your teeth clashing, and he finally slammed his hips into yours one last time, holding your hips so tight, you were sure you would bruise for atleast a few hours, despite your super healing abilities. Groaning and grunting in his deep voice as thick ropes of his cum filled you to the brim, triggering yet another release out of you, making you squirt even more. He collapsed on top of you, careful that he wasn't crushing you with his weight.

The two of you stayed like that, entangled with each other for a few minutes, trying to catch your breath, before he slowly pulled out of you, making you both wince at the sudden loss. As he walked to the living room, "That was it" you thought, a one time rendezvous with Soldier Boy that might have either helped you two or made things worse. He sauntered back in with a towel in hand, towards the sink to wet it, also filling up a glass of water and quietly walking to you, cleaning you up without a word, handing the glass for you to drink. Taking it from him, you looked at him mumbled a soft "thank you", getting down the table, you nudged him to walk out with you, sitting down on the couch and covering yourself with a blanket, while he picked up his surprisingly untorn boxers, putting them on and sitting next to you, making you turn to face him. You both understood you needed to talk about what had just happened.

The shared realisation that the animosity between you two that had led to this impulsively passionate encounter, had somewhere blurred the lines between desire and hate.

Ben began to say "Look, about earlier... I didn't mean half the things I said."

You replied "What? You didn't mean it when you said you want to kiss me and do other filthy things to me everytime you see me?"

Taken aback, with a raised eyebrow and confused express Ben said, "Oh no, no lies there. I've wanted you from the moment I saw you."

You cut him off saying "I know, I was just pulling your leg. I've felt the same way about you. Your reputation preceded you and it made me crazy knowing I still wanted you."

He replied, "I think we let our tempers get the best of us." sighing, he continued "I care about you more than I let on."

Which made you sigh in response. "Then why do you never act like it? Making me think of you as a douche who loves berating me?"

Ben ran his fingers through his hair. "I guess I feel scared. Scared of how much of a hold you have had on me from the very beginning. It made me feel like a fool at times, I thought the only way I could supress these feelings were by acting like an asshole towards you. I'm really sorry."

Your gaze softened, "I'm really sorry too, my behaviour towards you hasn't been any better either." You continued, "I thought we were destined to be enemies. I don't hate you, I never did. I just wanted you to see the person I am beyond the righteous supe everyone else sees."

Ben slowly took your hands in his, making you look into his eyes. "Now I see you more than I ever thought I would. Maybe.. maybe there's something more here."

You replied, "Maybe there is. What happens now?"

To which he said "We talk. Like normal people. No more running away or avoiding things and arguing for no reason. We figure out where we stand, one step at a time, together."

You smiled, nodding your head. "Agreed. No more hiding how we feel. Besides, I guess I like this way of solving our issues much more." Which made him chuckle and pull you into his arms, staring at you intently, pressing his lips to yours.

Back at the Flatiron building, Hughie sat at his table across from Frenchie, fidgeting with his cup. "I'm worried. What do you think? Will they make up or kill each other?"

Butcher entered the room, a smirk plastered over his face "I'm pretty sure they are fucking like rabbits back there." And boy, was he right.

The two of you went multiple rounds, thanks to your super stamina, christening every possible surface of the safe house. From the couch, to the bedroom and the floor, and the shower too. You had both awoken a hunger, only the other could satiate.

"Now that we're not at each other's throats for the wrong reasons, I think maybe, we'd make a good team after all."

Said Ben, holding you close, running smooth circles on along your arms, with the two of you lying on the bed, tired and basking in the afterglow. You smiled, turning to face him. "We'll have to see about that, you might just be right. For now, I can't believe I'm saying this but I need sleep, we both do. You've worn me out completely."

He chuckled, tightening his arms around you, placing a soft kiss to your forehead and lips, and the two of you drifted off to sleep, feeling content in each other's embrace.

It was a start of a connection and understanding that arose from the most unexpected places, even amidst the chaos of a world filled with superhumans and the fight for good. Fiery exchanges and whispered confessions bringing in an unexpected depth to your dynamic, proving that there can be a fragile, pure connection between two polar opposites. Serendipity, often painted as an unusual force, interweaves with fate, guiding people towards love where they're least expecting to find it.

Your story a testament to the unpredicted twists of the heart, proving that even the fiercest adversaries can find redemption in each other's arms.

a/n: Finished watching Season 3 of 'The Boys' just a few days ago and let me just put this out here, Jensen as Soldier Boy is one of the best things to ever happen to this world. Oh! the things I'd let this man do to me-

Been planning this fic for a week now, I really hope y'all enjoyed reading as much as I did writing this.

I'd really appreciate if you'd comment any thoughts, improvements, suggestions or requests that you have! Thank you ^_^

Credits: Banner by @mykento

post divider by @saradika

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gglitch1dd · 2 months

Note

Okay so I know cheating izuku isn’t canon so how would canon izuku deal with the death of his son?

Oh that's a hard one. But... its a beautifully sad one.

Cheating Dilf Izuku X Wifey Reader

Warning: Death of a child, coping with grief, depression, hurt to comfort

"It's been a while, Mr Midoriya."

"Yah, it has."

"So how have you been?"

Izuku sat in the couch opposite his agency's therapist. He sat in front of him. a notebook in his lap as he looked back at the green haired man. Izuku had his arms folded over his chest as he sat there, his large frame supported by the grey couch he sat on. He shrugged. "Fine."

"I've heard you've been very busy with work. How has that been for you?"

Izuku shrugged. "Busy. Crime never stops."

His therapist hummed. "How has life been since the trial?"

The trial... It was suffocating endeavour. He hated every second of it. Having to look as Jigsaw, who was alive and well, taken care on taxpayer money and locked behind bars alive, while his son was nothing but a pile of ashes now.

Izuku swallowed down hard but kept his face emotionless. "Fine."

"He got the death penalty. What do you think about it?"

"It's well deserved." Izuku answered without hesitation, his hands gripping his muscles tighter.

The therapist noted something done for a moment before looking back up at him with a gentle demeanour. "Your wife made an interesting statement during the trial. She said, 'Despite what you did to my son, I know he forgives you and he would want me to forgive you. Although I doubt I can ever find it in my heart to do so, I'll try...' What did you think about her statement?"

Izuku was silent as he remembered that day of the trial. You held yourself as gracefully as ever. Even when the forensic pathologist had said the report on how Shoyo and Sero Kimiko's (Hanta and Mina's youngest daughter) bodies were so badly damaged that he couldn't even identify certain body parts of what remained of them, about how there was quite literally nothing to hold or mourn over because they had to be cremated almost immediately. Even when Jigsaw had time to speak and vividly said how your son had cried out your name, begging for you in his last moments of life.

You were composed, other than a few stray tears and an emotionless voice.

"My wife is a better person than me." Izuku stated, remembering his own statement about how the only thing protecting Jigsaw's life was the fact that Izuku had his quirk cancelled for every trial date.

"Speaking of which, how is your Mrs Midoriya?"

For the first time since walking into the room, Izuku seemed to ease just slightly. His eyes fell down. How were you? In total honest, Izuku wasn't sure. When last had he even looked at you? Izuku didn't even take time off to mourn after the trial. He went straight into work.

When last had he seen you? This morning? What did you make for breakfast? What were you wearing?

"I..." He started, his voice unsure. "I think she's fine."

"You think?" His therapist asked softly. "You aren't sure, Mr Midoriya?"

Izuku looked down away from the man that sat across from him. He didn’t answer that question because he wasn’t sure how you were. At some point he wasn’t even sure you left the bed at all after the funeral, but then at some point he knew you were up and around.

“When last did you speak to your wife?”

“This morn-”

“Honestly speak to your wife?” That question had him frozen. “When last did you ask her how her day was, or how has she been coping?”

Izuku knew that his therapist knew that answer. You had been coming to see a therapist as well, a mandatory thing that the commission expected from the both of you but also one you bot probably needed direly. Izuku looked away as his eyebrows furrowed. “Not for a while.” He answered simply.

“Do you not care about her anymore?”

Green eyes flicked up to the psychologist that sat across from him. His eyes were dark and deadly, one that held brewing anger beneath the surface. “You know that’s not true.” Izuku answered back lowly.

“Do I?” His therapist asked with a shrug. The man looked down at the notebook he had, flipping through his pages. “In not one of our sessions have you willingly spoken about your wife or children and when asked, all you state is a simple ‘fine’. It leaves anyone thinking that you find work more important than your family right now.”

“I’m a busy man, I’m the number one hero, I don’t have time to-”

“To have a five-minute conversation with your wife and kids?”

Izuku froze for a second. He let out a scoff as he stood up. “I don’t have to listen to this.” He stated as he moved to exit out of the room.

“Mr Midoriya, when you first started seeing me, you told me that I should be harsh and frank with you.” That made the large hero paused. “You told me that if you were going to be sitting here for an hour at a time, I should make it worth your time. So here I am.” His therapist responded calmly as he crossed his legs leaning back in his chair. “You leave out of that door right now, I will have no choice but to inform the commission that you are unfit and unwell to continue your job as a hero and have you suspended of all hero work until I deem you fit enough to do so.” Izuku turned to look back at the man who sat rather unbothered. He smiled as he motioned for Izuku to sit back where he was before.

Izuku let out a sigh, knowing that he should stay. He walked to sit back down where he was, falling back with a sigh as he said nothing more to that.

His therapist smiled. “Thank you, Mr Midoriya. Often than not, the first step to getting better is knowing that you need help and then accepting it.” He reminded the green haired hero. “Now… how are the boys?”

Izuku didn’t answer immediately. When last did he talk to the boys? When last did he see the boys? The last vivid time he remembered his sons’ faces was at the funeral, everything after that felt like a blur. Were they already back at school? “They’re… fine.”

His therapist let out a hum as he noted down something in his notebook. “And how are you?”

“Me? I’m fine.”

His therapist looked at him through his lenses before letting out a sigh. He leaned forward. “Mr Midoriya, you entered the scene where your son had been brutally murdered.” He started off, getting to the cusp of it. “You have, unjusticely, been at the cusp of some media frenzy of them saying that you weren’t fast enough or good enough or still in your prime to have saved your son. You have been working like a dog, day and night and by the reports of your office hours, I doubt you even get more than three hours of sleep. You are out there breaking yourself in half, trying to atone for something that isn’t your fault and you are leaving your family behind. Your wife is currently at home with your children, trying to keep it all together while you are out there when you should be spending time with your family. Mr Midoriya, I’ll ask you one more time… how are you?”

The front door opened as Izuku entered his house. The first thing that caught his eye was the candle next to the photo of the smiling five year old boy who had hair too wild and free and a smile so bright and lovely. Inko had said that Shoyo was a direct copy and paste (minus a few of your genetics) of Izuku. Staring at him now was still painful and yet Izuku gave him a small smile.

He slipped off his shoes and entered the house. Just as he did so, he noticed that there wasn’t the sound of playing in the living room or the sound of boys giggling outside. It was mostly silent. It had been silent for a while now and Izuku wasn’t surprised.

Izuku hated the silence.

Walking out of the kitchen with a glass of orange juice was Toshinori, headphones blasting in his ears as he kept one hand in his grey sweats as he manoeuvred out of the kitchen. At the sight of his father, his eyes widened as he jumped, dropping his glass of juice. Before Izuku could react, suddenly dark green tendrils wrapped around the glass.

Izuku’s eyebrows furrowed, knowing he didn’t activate One for All yet. Being carried just a few inches off the ground was Toshinori’s cup of juice with blackwhip coming from his knuckles. Toshinori’s eyes moved to his father. He carefully bent down to pick up his cup before slipping off his headphones, pausing the music. “Afternoon, dad.” He greeted. “You’re back early.” He let out unsure, knowing that normally when- if, his father came home, it would be late at night when he was far too asleep to notice.

Izuku nodded. “I am.” His eyes moved down to blackwhip that slowly retracted itself into Toshinori’s knuckles. He tilted his head confused, pointing towards Toshinori’s left hand. “Since when could you use blackwhip?”

Toshinori looked down at his hand before looking back up at his father. “Since a week ago. Nearly dropped a wine bottle but luckily I caught it just in time.”

“Wine?”

“I cooked dinner.”

“Since when did you cook dinner?”

“Since mom wasn’t able to cook dinner.”

“Since when was mom unable to cook dinner?”

“Depends on the day. Some days are harder for her than others.” He shrugged. Izuku’s eyebrows furrowed at that, a pang of guilt seeping into his chest. Toshinori looked to the side for a moment before forcing a smile to his face as he headed towards the staircase. “I’ve got a paper to finish and I need to make sure Asahi is doing his homework-”

“Toshinori.” Izuku put a hand on his eldest son’s shoulder. Toshinori paused as he turned to look at his dad. Izuku was slow as he walked closer to Toshinori. He took Toshinori’s cup of juice, putting it on the side table. The teenager’s looked confused before his eyes widened as he was pulled into a hug against his will. He froze in his father’s embrace, eyes wide and his body stiff. “I’m sorry.” Izuku whispered. Slowly he felt his son ease into his hold, slumping against him. “You did good, but I’ve gotta tap you out now. You should rest.”

Toshinori didn’t say a word but he nodded his head, a shaky sigh leaving his throat as he buried his head in the crook of his father’s neck. His hands gripped onto Izuku’s back painfully hard but Izuku didn’t push him away.

After that Izuku went up to his and your room where Toshinori said you would be. Izuku entered the room, to find you sitting there with Koda. Koda had his head in your lap, fast asleep. You looked away from the show about a blue dog on the TV, and to your husband. Your eyes widened in surprise. You checked the time on your phone before looking back at him surprised. There were bags under your eyes and you looked drained. You all looked drained, besides Koda who seemed to be enjoying his nap with his little knitted blanket you made for him when he was a baby, over him.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you straightened up. “Izuku… you’re here.” You whispered to him.

“I am.” He affirmed. He looked down at his youngest son. The both of you had consciously pulled him out of kindergarten despite him only being there for a few short months. After Shoyo, the both of you had wordlessly expressed your fear of losing another little sprout. Izuku walked over to you, he picked up Koda effortlessly.

Your eyes widened as you weakly reached up to stop him. “It’s okay, I-”

Izuku shook his head, silently taking your youngest son to his own room. Izuku barely remembered the last time he held Koda like this. The little boy, although asleep like a log, moved to wrap his arms around Izuku’s neck comfortingly putting his head of green hair to rest on him. Izuku swallowed down a sob and fought a frown as he carefully laid Koda to bed, drawing the blinds and leaving him for an afternoon nap.

You were still seated where Izuku had left you when he came back. He closed the door behind him but stood there, keeping space between you and him. Neither of you said anything. This was the most time Izuku had spent in your presence in the past three months that wasn’t him asleep or just passing by.

“How was your day?” You let out quietly, scared of the usual answer he would give you. He would dismiss you without second thought. He didn’t answer, affirming that your question was once again given in vain.

“I…” You looked up at him. His eyes were down casted. “I saw the shrink.”

Your eyebrows twitched up in surprise that he was telling you something about his day that wasn’t just a simple ‘fine’. “And… how did it go?” You asked softly.

He didn’t answer immediately again. You saw your husband’s head drop for a moment. His hands balled into fists and you saw he was trembling. You saw tears fall down his cheeks as he seemed to be biting back a sob. You don’t know with what strength nor from where but you stood up and walked over to him. Right before you could even touch him, your husband crumbled on the floor.

“I’m sorry.” You heard weakly from him.

You went down on your knees joining him on the ground. “Izuku…”

“I failed you.” His voice cracked as he held his hands to his face, trembling in front of you. “I failed the boys, I failed Shoyo. If only I was there just two minutes earlier-”

“It’s not your fault.” You reminded him as you moved your hands onto him, touching him for the first time in months. “You couldn’t have known or have been any faster than you were. You didn’t fail me, or the boys or him.”

Izuku shook his head as he looked up at you with red eyes. “Y/N. I can’t… I…” He fought back a sob as he stopped for a second. “I’m tired. I’m so tired. And- and I’m so sorry I left you all alone.” You stilled at that. You looked away from him fighting your own tears as you tried your best to be the comforting good wife he needed you to be when you felt like anything but. “I’ve been a horrible husband. I haven’t been here for you.”

You scowled as you tried to fight the tears. “You haven’t.” You affirmed softly.

“I know you needed me.”

“I did.” You looked at him, with a mix of anger and disappointment but mostly sadness. You gasped as you let the tears fall. “And you weren’t here.”

He shook his head with a sad smile. “I wasn’t.” You didn’t look at him as you looked down at your lap. “But…” You felt one of his hands move you to look up at him. “I’m here now.”

There was a knock at the door. “Mom I-” Entering the room was Toshinori who paused. Lying there in bed, with his arms around you was Izuku. The both of you were dead asleep, bags under your eyes and faces puffy but you were both asleep. Together.

Toshinori eased. He gave a small smile as he decided he’ll let the both of you sleep.

-Glitch1d

#izuku midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #mha x y/n #bnha #deku x reader #dilf midoriya #dilf deku #dilf izuku midoriya #dilf izuku x reader #izuku angst #midoriya izuku angst #midoriya x reader #midoriya x you #mha #kirishima x reader #izuku x reader angst

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zepskies · 1 month

Text

Imagine: Soldier Boy Getting Jealous...

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Reader || (past Frenchie x F. Reader)

Request: Soldier Boy finding out you had something with Frenchie, years before meeting him.

Word Count: 1K

Tags/Warnings: Jealousy lol (With a hint of spice.~)

Imagine: Ben getting jealous over your past relationship with Frenchie.

He doesn't care.

Because he doesn't care...

When you sit him down in the living room of your apartment and tell him you used to date Frenchie, Ben's reaction is mild at best. To the point where it kind of concerns you.

Ben raises a brow and gives a deep hum.

"Oh, really? That limey bastard?" he remarks. He takes a sip from his tumbler of whiskey. You give him a weary sigh.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't call him that," you reply. You and Frenchie are still friends. Your "entanglement" was years ago, before he even started hooking up with Cherie.

But you still want to be honest with Ben. You two have been dating for a few months now, and it's actually serious. No one's more surprised than you by that fact, but...you're happy. You think he is too.

At your response, however, Ben rolls his eyes and continues drinking. You tilt your head in suspicion.

"So you're chill?" you ask.

"Chill?" he quirks a brow at you. Your lips form a smile.

"You're okay with this," you amend.

Ben shrugs and turns on the TV, trying to navigate the streaming apps. You’d put him on to Game of Thrones. Even three seasons into his binge-watching, he doesn’t want to admit that he’s hooked.

"You're fucking a real man now, sweetheart. No skin off my nose," he says.

It's your turn to roll your eyes, despite a warm blush stinging your cheeks.

But the next time you all go out together to a club in the city, Ben watches you leave his side to say hello to your friends: Annie, Hughie, Frenchie and Kimiko. Frenchie takes your hands and makes a show of looking you up and down.

"Well, well. She shoots to kill tonight, eh?" Frenchie says. When he leans in to kiss your cheek, he whispers, "Ah, black leather. My old favorite."

"Stop," you warn with a smile, hitting his shoulder. He's absolutely shameless. "You're too much."

"And you are just enough," Frenchie returns. He whistles playfully as he raises your hand to twirl you around, showing you off in your little black dress and red-bottom heels.

You laugh, but you bump into Ben when you twirl for the second time. Your laughter cuts off abruptly when you see the flinty look on his face, though he's clinging to stoicism.

Frenchie’s eyes widen as he seems to realize the very real danger he's put himself in. He wisely lets go of your hand, pivots on his heel and goes with Kimiko over to the dance floor.

Meanwhile, you move back to Ben's side and try to placate him by looping your arm through his. He responds by wrapping a strong arm around your waist. His eyes bore into the back of Frenchie's head so hard, you almost expect laser beams to come out of them.

"Come on, let's get a drink," you suggest, patting a hand on Ben's chest. He looks good tonight in a burgundy button-down shirt tucked into his slacks.

Ben wordlessly agrees to your suggestion, but he grabs a stool and drags it close to his own seat. He does help you by the hand onto the stool, but then his arm wraps back around your waist, pulling you in snugly, possessively to his side.

You try not to smile in amusement. It's a caveman's display, but at least you know the root cause this time.

...Okay, maybe you feel the tiniest bit complicit, but really, you think Ben's overreacting.

After he flags down the bartender and orders his bourbon and your martini, you tap against his bearded cheek, earning his green-eyed attention.

"You okay?" you ask knowingly.

"Just fine," he deadpans.

"Oh, well that's convincing," you say with a smile. "Do I need to remind you that I'm here with you?"

Ben's gaze hardens. "I don't know. You were pretty happy to let that French whore put his fucking hands all over you—"

"All right. Calm down, Rambo," you say, trying not to laugh as you rub his arm. "Sorry, baby. That's just how we've always cut up. It doesn't mean anything."

Ben scoffs in derision. "Yeah? Fuck if I care."

You frown at that, sparking with annoyance. Somehow, now you actually do feel guilty. You and Frenchie have bounced off each other like Derek and Garcia for so long, you didn't even realize how it might look...or how it might make your boyfriend feel.

Because even with all that ego and injured pride, you have a feeling there's a real sting of hurt under there.

"Hey," you say, squeezing Ben's wrist. His gaze remains stubbornly on the bartender making your drinks.

You decide to take matters more firmly into your hands.

Reaching up for his chin, you guide Ben's face toward yours and press a kiss to his lips. It's slow at first, but it soon gains in passion. His teeth graze your bottom lip, before his tongue demands entrance into your mouth with claiming purpose.

It elicits a hint of a moan from you, your fingers clenching in his hair. Your nails drag against his scalp, almost making him shudder.

Your supple lips eventually pull away from his, nice and slow.

"Your hands are the only hands I care about touching me," you say. Your expression twinkles with mischief as you toy with the zipper on the side of your dress.

"As a matter of fact, I need your help," you add. "This zipper keeps catching on something. I think it's stuck."

Quite possibly because someone got a little handsy in the cab on the way here.

Ben smirks, though he claims your lips in one more slightly rough kiss before he answers.

"Well that is a problem," he says. His eyes roam down your face, taking in your thoroughly kissed lips, and the cleavage peeking out at him from the neckline of your dress.

"Think I can give you a hand," he says, as his actual hand slips down your leg. His fingers brush along the inside of your thigh, tingling across your skin. His half-lidded gaze once again meeting yours. "Better take you out back and fix you up."

You laugh, despite the return of your blush. You cling to his shoulders, while his fingers burn a tantalizing trail upwards.

"Oh, yeah. Save me, Soldier Boy!" you tease.

He snorts in response, but he helps guide you out of your seat.

Moments later, all your friends find at the bar are two forgotten drinks and a couple of empty stools.

AN: Ah, jealous Ben. It's fun to imagine. 😂

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

SB Tag List (Part 1):

@melancholictearz @spnwoman @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions

@samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @anticxrrupt @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky

@teehxk @midnightmadwoman @iprobablyshipit91 @agalliasi @venicesem

@deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees

@xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @mimaria420 @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley

@sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @skyesthebomb @this-is-me19

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007

@wincastifer @emily-winchester @tearsfortheyouth @solo-pitstop-vibes @dope-trope-105

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@iamsapphine @roseblue373 @lacilou @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waynes-multiverse

#Imagine: Ben getting jealous #reader request #Soldier Boy imagine #soldier boy x reader #Frenchie #soldier boy #the boys #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x you #the boys tv #the boys amazon #soldier boy fanfiction #jensen ackles characters #jensen ackles #jealousy #hint of spice #zepskies writes

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magicalqueennightmare · 7 months

Text

Not Exactly Lying

Butcher pushes about what exactly happened when he left you to watch after Ben....uh Soldier Boy (Reminder that reader has a nickname/supe name of Blaze due to her power being pyrokinesis)

Part 2 to Not Exactly Babysitting

Cursing, Violence, Alcohol Consumption, lewd acts, NSFW, angry sex, angst (I think that's all)

You were having a hard time keeping up with the news where Annie and Ben were concerned. Every other channel had something containing Starlight or Soldier Boy. You were just trying to stay off the radar. You would text Kimiko or Frenchie when they checked in with you but besides that you hadn't had much contact with any of the boys. Well Butcher had called quite a few times but you always managed to dodge his calls.

You'd been hotel hopping, paying in cash and staying anywhere you could for the simple fact Homelander knew you ran with the boys if he got it into his head that you could be used against any of them? Well you weren't taking the chance. You were supposed to meet Maeve for a drop of cash, she'd been helping you but when she texted instead to tell you she'd dropped the envelope off with Butcher at the office you almost decided to take your chances getting money out of the bank instead.

You walked up the stairs slowly, praying that maybe anyone else would be there also. You would kill to see MM or Frenchie hell even Hughie who you knew would never do anything besides listen to Butcher. You stopped just outside the door and took a deep breath before pushing it open. There was two lamps on so the room was mainly in shadows, Butcher was sitting on the leather couch in front of one of the tall windows working on a bottle of bourbon.

No one else was in the room and you felt your stomach knot. He glanced up at you and half smiled "Hello Luv. I'm guessing you're here for what Maeve dropped off?" You nodded, walking past the empty desks to come to stand in front of him "You, Annie and Ben are making headlines. I don't need that asshole deciding I'm worth going after again" he cut his eyes up at your words. The metal of the pendant he wore was a stark contrast to the black button up shirt he had on.

----------------

Your eyes flicked down to his chest, taking in the expanse of chest that was visible. Butcher was a lot of things, unattractive was not one of them. "Ben, huh?" You realized your slip up but shrugged nonchalantly "Him and Annie both kind of have Homelander staying on his toes" he nodded, raising his eyes to meet yours "I never did ask how you and him passed the time when I got you to watch after him"

You refused to let yourself squirm under his harsh gaze, you'd faced worse than an interrogation by Billy Butcher. His hazel eyes studied your face and you knew he was looking for the slightest of slip as to if you were lying to him. You reached for his glass which he let you take, quickly downing the rest of the bourbon. "I read a few books, he watched a few movies. We went through like six takeout place menus and then I took the bed and he took the couch"

-----------

He nodded before standing up. You tracked his movements the entire time, stepping back a half step to give a bit of room between the two of you. The height difference and the way your stomach flipped at the look in his eyes made an entirely different face flash through your memory. "Can I ask one thing then Blaze" you raised an eye at him calling you Blaze instead of your name or a simple Luv or sweetheart. "Ask Butch"

He took a step towards you and you forced your feet to remain in place. You weren't in any actual danger from Billy, you knew that for a fact. He was standing over you, your faces mere inches from each other as he asked "Why was there scorch marks on the bed?"

You knew your features were schooled but your mind raced. Damn Ben had promised he'd make a believable lie. "Don't know, must have had a nightmare" he nodded "That's what he said too" you shrugged "See? So what's your issue here Billy? What's the attitude and the whole sitting in a darkened room waiting on me to show up?" He took a deep breath "Did he hurt you?"

--------------

You felt yourself deflate, the anger you'd felt building quickly dissolved. That was why he'd called you so much, why he had others checking in so much. You shook your head "No Billy. Ben didn't hurt me" He nodded slowly "Did ya fuck that cunt?" Damn, that anger of yours managed to flare right back up in that instant "What?"

He took another step towards you, close enough you weren't sure if the bourbon you tasted was on your own tongue or if it was from his breath. You felt your power threaten to flow out and it took everything in you to reign it in as you said "So let me get this straight, you haven't sought me out face to face in weeks then you sit here all melodramatic and acting like you care if I'd been hurt just to in turn ask me if I fucked him?"

He gave you a slight smirk "I do care about you luv. That's why I asked if he hurt ya. But I know ya too, if ya hadn't fucked him you would've already swung on me" your hands were practically trembling with how angry you were, flames began to dance across your fingertips. "Since when is it any of your business what I do Billy? As long as I answer when you call that's all you give a damn about right?"

He grabbed your hand and you started to snatch away, despite your anger you didn't want to hurt him but the flames weren't effecting him even as they danced over his skin. Your eyes went from your hand to his face "What the fuck did you do?" "Give us an edge over Homelander. Make sure that bastard burns for what he did to Becca, what he did to you"

You snatched away from him finally, shaking your head "You took that temp v shit Annie told me about" He smiled "It works" You shoved him back with both hands on his chest, he slid backwards but not as much as he should've had he not been using that shit. He was a supe, temp or not. Never thought you'd see the day.

"That shit is experimental, you don't know what the fuck it could be doing to your insides! Billy it could fucking kill you!" The bastard had the nerve to shrug one shoulder and throw your own words back at you "Since when is it any of your business what I do?"

Without thinking you swung on him and connected a hard punch to his jaw. He stumbled just slightly and rubbed a hand over his jaw "Damn I'm glad I've never pissed you off bad enough before, would've broke my damn jaw" "I should break your fucking jaw! God dammit Butcher you know better than to fuck around with bullshit from Vought!"

--------------

He smirked "I don't know I've been fucking around with you for a while now" you started to swing on him again but he caught your wrist. You stared him down and noticed how his eyes flicked down towards your lips, was this turning the asshole on?

"That what the issue is here isn't it Butch?" He raised an eyebrow in question so you pushed "You're not mad I fucked Ben, you could give a damn less as long as it was consensual. You're mad I fucked him and turned you down when you got back that day. You're mad that had you kissed me you would've been tasting Ben's cock" considering he still had your wrist you decided to see how far you could push him.

You used your free hand to slip around his neck, pulling him closer to you "That the problem Billy? Do you want to fuck me so bad that you'd go through all the dramatics instead of just asking for a fuck? Or are you worried I'll be comparing you to Ben, thinking about his cock while yours is inside of me"

A sinister grin slipped onto his face "Luv I'd fuck the thought of good old soldier boy right out of ya" "Don't think you're man enough for the job" you raised an eyebrow as you taunted him.

He dropped your wrist in favor of slipping an arm around your waist, pulling you to his chest "Say what you want here Blaze" you pulled him down to where your lips were almost touching "At the moment? I want you" he smirked slightly before his lips crashed against yours in a searing kiss.

---------------

He groaned into your mouth when you tugged roughly at the hair at the back of his head, deepening the kiss. Both of his hands went to your hips pulling a gasp from you when he slipped them under your ass and easily lifted you into his arms. Billy had always been strong as hell but the temp v made it where lifting you was as easy as lifting a feather. You wrapped your legs around his waist, never breaking the kiss as he walked backwards to the couch he'd been sitting on and dropped you roughly onto the cushions.

You pulled him down with you, fumbling for the buttons on his shirt while he found the hem of yours. The two of you broke away from each other long enough for Billy to toss his shirt across the room then pull yours over your head and toss it as well. The look in his eyes darkened even more as he looked down at you, the chain around his neck dangling as he left another kiss against your lips before then across your jaw to attack your neck, kissing and biting across the sensitive skin there in a way that had your hips bucking up against his.

"Easy luv. Don't want ya screaming my name just yet" he muttered against your skin and you swallowed twice before biting back "Don't flatter yourself Butch" when his lips found your clothed breast he bit down harshly on one of them causing you to bite into your bottom lip in an effort to not make any sound yet.

He glanced up at you as he pushed the cloth down off your breast, exposing the skin to his lips. He gingerly kissed the area he'd bit maintaining eye contact with you "I know you better than that cunt ever could. I know everything you like and just how to get you off" You moved your hips impatiently "Less talking" he chuckled darkly as he kissed down your stomach stopping just shy of the waistband of your jeans.

---------------

He unbuttoned your jeans and tapped your hips so you would raise them off the couch far enough he could slip your jeans off along with your panties. He gave you one of those smiles you'd always hated and loved from him before he lowered his mouth to your core.

The first lick was tentative, teasing but when the bastard managed to pull a whimper from your lips he gripped your hips roughly, holding them down to the couch and effectively keeping them spread. "Easy Butch. You have supe strength" you reminded him breathlessly and his grip loosened just a bit before he attacked your clit, licking and sucking the spot that made your eyes roll back into your head.

You moaned his name as he worked you closer to that edge and damn him when that building tension finally burst and your legs began to shake he didn't slow his movements any. Before you could come down fully from one orgasm he slipped two fingers in along with his tongue and found that spot deep inside of you, curling his fingers to tease over it.

"Fuck Billy" you moaned, pleasure making your vision go soft around the edges as another orgasm washed over you. You felt flames flicker to life on your fingertips but Billy simply moved his hands from your hips to your hands, smothering the flames with his skin as he worked you through your orgasm then finally broke away from your body.

---------------

You stared down at him feeling your entire lower half quivering from his touch "God damn you Butcher" he ran his thumbs over your hands, a slight smile slipping onto his face "You are always such a sweet talker Y/N"

You groaned flipping your hands up to grip his wrist "You want sweet talk? Get your pants off and fuck me like you mean it" he didn't say another word, simply leaned up far enough to kick his pants off then was moving back up your body to catch your lips in a rough kiss that was all teeth and tongue.

You felt his hard cock pressing against your thigh and reached down between your bodies to run your fingers across him, he broke away from your lips to bury his face into your neck "Like that luv"

You wrapped your hand around him, lining him up with your opening "Fuck me Billy" when he pushed into you a low moan escaped you both "Feel fucking amazing" he cursed as he started to roll his hips against yours, testing to see if you were ready for him to move. When your response was to wrap your legs around his waist that must have been the go ahead he needed because he pulled almost all the way out just to slam back into you.

---------------

He gave you a few hard thrusts but when he moved his hips just right the angle meant the head of his cock had found that spot inside of you. He bit down on your neck as he groaned "There's no way you're coming again" you couldn't exactly form a coherent response so you simply moaned "Fuck, just don't stop Butch"

You were so damn close, that familiar knot began to build in your stomach and when Billy slipped a hand between you to rub tight circles onto your clit your vision went white as another orgasm washed over you.

He fucked you through that orgasm and when your head cleared you could feel that he was holding back. You reached a hand up to cup the side of his face, nails grazing his beard "Fuck me harder Billy. You know me, I'm not gonna fucking break. I want you to come"

"Tell me if it's too much?" He asked through gritted teeth and you nodded. His thrusts got harder and deeper, he hooked your legs over his arms giving himself an even better angle. You knew he was close by how his thrusts began to stutter and could feel yourself heading for another orgasm.

When he finally came, burying himself deep inside of you the feeling of him finding his release was enough to shove you over that edge a fourth time.

---------------

He was holding his weight on his arms and your lower half to avoid crushing you as both of you worked to catch your breath. He leaned down to press another kiss to your lips before pulling out. You groaned at the loss of contact but gave yourself a few breaths before you sat up looking around for your clothes.

Billy watched you as you gathered your clothes and headed for the bathroom. You weren't expecting meaningful conversation but neither of you spoke a word.

---------------

Once you were cleaned up and fully dressed down to your boots you walked back out of the bathroom to find Billy standing just outside the door. He had a big envelope in his hand and held it out "I care enough that I don't like the thought of someone hurting you. We may need you when this all comes to a head" You took the envelope and nodded "If Ben's certain he can burn the compound v out that asshole it would be my pleasure to be there when he dies"

He nodded and stepped closer to you "Watch your back and if you need anything call" You half smiled "Is this where I'm supposed to believe you'd answer?" A look of almost guilt passed through his eyes "Am I that bad you think I wouldn't help you if you needed it?"

You shook your head "No Billy. I just know if it comes to vengeance for Becca or helping me I come second. We all know that and have for years. I don't take it to heart Billy. It just is what it is" you kissed his cheek before turning to walk out.

You heard him call himself a cunt under his breath but kept walking. You needed a shower and some sleep.

The next night you were nearly asleep when your phone started ringing. You fumbled for it half expecting to see Frenchie or MM's caller id. When you didn't recognize the number you answered it with a cautious "Hello?"

Ben's voice hit your ears "Y/N, we need to talk" you swallowed hard "Face to face or over the phone good?" You asked and he said "Can you meet me at Butchers office?" You nodded then thought about the fact that you were on the phone "Yeah. Meet ya in twenty" then hung up

--------------

You hadn't expected Ben to look so damn normal. He was wearing jeans, a black t-shirt under a leather jacket with boots. He was leaning against the doorway and pushed off when he saw you "Thanks for coming" you nodded then motioned at the door "I have a key if you wanna go in?" He shook his head "I found something out and it only seemed right to tell you"

You nodded "What is it?" He seemed almost nervous? Which was weird in itself. "They did a lot of experiments on me, took samples of everything. I didn't know what it was for until me, Butcher and Hughie went after Mindstorm" "ok?" You asked and he took a deep breath "He's my kid" "Who?" You started to ask but stopped dead in your tracks, the icy realization hitting you hard.

You stumbled a few steps back from him "That son of a bitch is your son?" He reached for your arm but flames flicked up it, your powers trying to protect you without you even trying "Blaze I'm not going to hurt you" you shook your head "Your kid already hurt me enough. Are you turning on Butcher? On all of us? Are you gonna go save your rapist son?"

He shook his head "Hell no. For one, I'm a man of my word, I said I'd help take him down and I will. For two, I've seen the scars of what he did to you. I'm going to kill him son or not but I wanted you to know" "Why?" You asked concentrating on snuffing the flames out on your skin as he shrugged "Just felt like I should" you nodded slowly "What now?"

"I'm headed back to the hotel I'm crashing at. Are you safe to get back to yours?" You nodded "Yeah" he reached for your arm and this time you let him. When his fingers closed around your arm he used the other hand to brush your hair back out of your face "You'll see him dead. I promise" you finally met his gaze, those green eyes holding you in place "I'll hold you to it" he almost smiled at your words "I wouldn't expect any less out of you"

@deans-spinster-witch

@what-the-hellamidoing

#billy butcher x you #billy butcher x female reader #billy butcher x reader #the boys fanfic #the boys fandom #previous #soldier boy x female reader

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afro-hispwriter · 3 months

Text

The Diamond Queen

Soldier Boy/Ben x f!supe!reader

Summary- you loved Soldier Boy, but he almost killed your brother which made you erase him completely from your life… until he pops back up

Warning- A LOT OF DIALOGUE, ooc ben(slighty), mentions of 9/11

wc- 1.5k+

"I think I know who can help us find this weapon." Says Annie and everyone turns to her.

"Who?" Asks MM.

"Diamond Queen."

"Noir's twin sister?" Butcher asks and takes a step forward while squinting his eyes. "Nobody's heard from her since 9/11 when she redirected the plane that was intended to hit the Pentagon."

"Yeah, she is a national hero for that b-but im sorry what does she have to do with Soldier Boy? I mean Noir is her brother and all so she had to have met him at some point but I don't see how she could help." Says Hughie.

"She can help us because she was Soldier Boy's fiancé." Maeve's voice pierces through the air and they all look at her.

"What about Crimson Countess?" Asks Frenchie.

"All an act by Vought, just like when me and Homelander were together," Maeve responds.

"This is huge why are we just finding out about this?" Hughie asks in complete shock. MM sighs and cracks his knuckles.

"Because. Don't think the world or really Vought wanted to see the Golden Son with a black woman, even if she is a supe."

"Vought doesn't mess with her, they give her what she wants and leave her alone, in turn, she won't mind control all of them and tell them to jump off a building." Maeve finishes and Kimiko taps Frenchies shoulder and signs,

Who's Diamond Queen?

"Oh yes. Uh her name is Y/n L/n, her skin turns to Diamonds so it makes makes her impenetrable. But when she isn't diamonds her skin is like Translucents. Her telepathy is dangerous, it's even rumored that she could control every mind in New York and make them do her bidding. As for her telekinesis, it's strong enough to stop a crashing plane coming at full speed." Frenchie whispers to Kimiko and she takes in every word.

They knew they needed the weapon that killed Soldier Boy but they were underpowered and getting desperate. So they all collectively agreed that Diamond Girl was their best chance.

"Now let's go pay the telepath a visit?"

You sensed a large group of people the second they stepped foot on your property. You had a nice house on your own property, a courtesy from Vought

Three were normal, two were supes, and one who you couldn't get a grip of what you were sensing. Their thoughts were loud.

What if she's dead?

What if she doesn't even want to hear us out and makes us slit our throats for even asking? It wouldn't be the first time.

What if she wasn't engaged to Soldier Boy?

The mention of your old lover made you drop the dish you were washing. There was no way they could know about that. You felt like you couldn't move like you were trapped in your mind. You were brought out of it due to the loud banging on your door. You wiped your hands on your pants and shakily walked to the door.

You opened the door and the man you instantly knew as William Butcher appeared.

"William Butcher." You looked at him and them behind him. "Hugh Campbell. Marvin Milk. Starlight. I've seen you all on TV but I don't know your names." You pointed at the man and the Asian girl, with the slightest twitch of your eye. You smiled. "Serge, or Frenchie, and you are Kimiko."

"Fascinating." Says Frenchie and crosses his arms.

"What do you want?" You ask and swallow, already knowing the answer.

"We need your help," Hughie says and you bit your inner cheek.

"You don't need me." You say and start to close the door but Butcher stops it

"We have a plan to take down Homelander." At the mention of the man's name, your breath hitches.

"Nobody can kill Homelander."

"That's the same thing they said about your fiancé's love." You froze and your jaw slacked.

"H-How did y-you-."

"I know a lot do things, just like I know that you know your lover didn't just die from a nuclear bomb." You glare at the Australian before opening the door and walking away. They took the invitation to come in and all piled in your house. You sat down and looked at the kitchen and swirled your fingers. Everyone watched a tray lift and cups move out of the cupboard. From there the refrigerator opened and a water filter came out and started filling up the cups.

"Why do you want from me?"

"We need you to work your magic and get us to Russia." Says Butcher and a small tray with a teakettle a cup and an assortment of teas floated towards him.

"What's in Russia?" There was a deep breath that came from Annie.

"The weapon that killed Soldier Boy."

"I can find minds, not weapons." The tray of cups of water set itself on the coffee table and everyone grabbed one, besides Butcher.

"We need your mind magic and get us to Russia." MM chimes in.

"How?"

"There is a woman who I have a history with. Bad history. She can get us a plane to Russia but she is proving to be a bit difficult." Frenchie responds.

"What's in it for me?"

"Justice for your former future hubby." You let out a loud scoff before chuckling, confusing everyone there.

"You think I want justice for that son of a bitch after what he did?" They all looked at each other not knowing what to think. "I'll do this to help you kill Homelander, me and Noir talk so I know what he does. But not for Soldier Boy."

"Well just as long as it gets done, I don't care who you're doing it for."

You got 'Little Nina' to arrange a plane for 'The Boys' as they have been calling themselves.

You kept this deal away from your brother, making sure that he wouldn't find out about Butcher or the others being at your house.

After Noir's 'accident' and he lost his ability to talk. You had built a connection between the two of you so you could communicate wherever you were(as long as both of you were in an acceptable range) and whenever.

Quite literal Twin Telepathy.

You watched The Boys begin to board the plane. You had to make sure everything went smoothly with Little Nina's men. But just as you were about to leave, Hughie stopped you.

"Hey Diamond Queen, can I ask you a personal question?"

"Oh, Hughie please don't call me that, that name and life is behind me. And no you may not but I know you are regardless."

"Oh sorry. Well, I just wanted to know what Soldier Boy did to you that made you hate him so much?" You crossed your arms and swallowed.

"He did something unforgivable and after he disappeared, sure I was sad but it opened my eyes to see how much of a dick he really was. Good luck to you all."

You haven't heard anything from any of The Boys since they left and it's already been a couple of days. You couldn't deny that getting brought back to anything Ben-related gave you memories. The good and the bad.

You had almost nothing left from Ben from your time together. Just a small box of pictures and tickets from events you had gone to together. Anything else that was his was given to The Legend, including your engagement ring.

Queenie, your Sphinx cat jumped onto the couch with you and crawled onto your lap. She purred and stretched, digging her nails into your thigh. You brought your hand behind her ears and started to scratch them, letting her blue eyes slowly close.

"Ben would've hated you." You said with a smile.

You're not sure how you missed someone walking onto your property. The knocking on your door startled you. You sent Queenie to her hiding spot and walked up to the door and peeked through the peephole.

It was just Hughie and Butcher. You let out a sigh of relief and opened the door.

"Hey, what's-."

"Hey, beautiful." The voice that interrupted you made you freeze. You slowly turned your head to the man and your jaw tightened.

“Ben?” Hughie and Butcher stepped back as Ben stepped forward. You looked up at him and your eyes started going glossy. “How are you here?”

“Those guys.” Ben pointed over to the two men who were off to the side. “I thought about you every day. I was worried you were gone after all this time and holy hell baby you’re still as beautiful as the day I lost you.” Ben’s hands found themselves on your face and his thumbs wiped away your tears. You let out a shuddering breath and your hands found themselves on his chest.

Ben started to lean in but he felt his body get launched back. He went through the porch railings and tumbled through the grass until he hit a tree.

“WHAT THE FUCK.”

A/n- omg everyone I actually WROTE AND FINISHED SOMETHING😭

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x you #ben x reader #the boys

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daughterofcain-67 · 4 months

Text

𝙾𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝙾𝚞𝚛 𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎 (𝚙𝚝.1)

(Soldier Boy / Ben x Female Reader)

(masterlist)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : Butcher, Hughie and their band of vigilantes are dead set on finding the weapon that killed Soldier Boy. With the help of Starlight they find you, a retired supe, and they seek your help although the help isn’t quite what they expected. And this was more than what you had anticipated for an ordinary afternoon on a weekday.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : Minor spoilers to The Boys season three. Nothing major.

Butcher, Hughie, M.M., Frenchie and Kimiko were all waiting on some sort of file that Annie was supposed to get.

They had a new plan after all. Now that they’ve figured that the weapon that killed off the legendary Soldier Boy is still out there, there has to be some way to find out how to obtain it to kill Homelander. One step closer, right?

“I still can’t believe we’re trustin’ ‘her. She’s just another supe. What if she gives us the wrong bloody file?” Butcher asked.

“Really? You’re still caught up on the fact that she’s a supe? She’s helped us through a hell of a lot last year. We couldn’t have done a lot of things without her.” Hughie defended his girlfriend, not much to anyone’s surprise.

“You know the kid’s right, Butcher. We do owe her a lot.” M. M. Stated.

“How do we know that she’ll find anything concrete? Especially since she’s practically in a den of wolves?”

“You’ll just have to trust her, alright?” Hughie reminded the man and that was when he started to hear his phone ringing from his pocket.

“Speaking of…. Hey, Annie.”

Butcher rolled his eyes and he leaned his back against the chair. He was so tired of doing everything by the book like he had been stuck doing for the past year. He was just glad Hughie was finally seeing things his way and realizing that he was right all along. Took him long enough to realize it.

He glanced up at the kid on the phone and he looked like he was in some sort of disbelief.

“Really? And you’ve got her address? H-Holy shit! That’s a lead! You’re coming with us, right?”

“I take it she found something?” Frenchie asked after he made some sort of sandwich.

“Oy! What’s the verdict, Mate?” Butcher said when Hughie finally picked up the phone.

“Well.. Annie said that there’s a file on someone named Y/N L/N. She has a limited history with Vought and evidently Soldier Boy himself even though she wasn’t on his team. Maybe she knows about the weapon that killed him, or at least she might know of some sort of way to weaken him.” The kid said.

“Excellent! Does she know where Y/N lives?” Frenchie asked.

“She’s sending the address as we speak.”

Butcher watched as Kimiko was using her sign language to communicate with Frenchie. She still hadn’t been able to speak but at least Frenchie was learning to communicate with her over this past year, so that made things a hell of a lot easier to figure out what she’s trying to say.

“Kimiko wants to know if Annie is coming with us this time.” Frenchie translated, but Hughie shook his head.

“Not this time. Annie said she has her hands full with some kind of television show to choose the next supe going in the Seven.” He explained and Kimiko nodded in understanding.

“You don’t think we’ll actually need to take any guns or anything like that, do you? She has to be an older supe now right? Retired.” M.M said and Butcher shrugged a little.

“With these guys, it’s hard to be sure of what they’re capable of when they’re older. Supes will keep you on your toes no matter how old they are, Mate.”

“Annie said based on the file she’s neger had a violent history. In fact she’s probably had the least amount of accidental casualties in her career even today.” Hugie explained.

“Yeah.. I guess that’s fair. But let’s be smart about this, yeah? We don’t want to go in guns-blazing or anything like that. At the same time we don’t want to go empty handed either.” M.M reminded and he grabbed whatever he needed. He was always the voice of reason.

And with that, the guys made their way out but Kimiko stayed behind for whatever her reasons were, Butcher didn’t pry when they had bigger matters to deal with.

Then, after several hours of drive time, they finally made it to some cabin in the woods.

“Not bad for a retired supe.” M.M said when he looked at the place and they got out of the van that they all travelled in.

“Do you think she’ll actually know much of anything?” Hughie asked.

“Honestly, who knows. If she does, then great. But if not, then I guess we’re at some kind of loss unless we dig somewhere else.”

The group all made it to the door and Butcher was the one that walked up onto the porch and knocked on the door. They waited a few moments before the door finally opened. What they expected to be a somewhat elderly woman was not what was on the other side of the door. Instead, they saw someone that was quite young for her age, a lot like the Stormfront situation.

It was like you hadn’t aged a day since you retired and you still looked as young as you did as most of your posters.

“Um… can I help you boys?” They heard you ask.

“Yes Ma’am. You see, we’re a part of the FBI and we’re on an investigation. If you don’t mind, we’d like to ask you a few questions.” Butcher said, which honestly surprised the rest of the group how calm he sounded.

“FBI, huh? Could I see your badges, please?” You asked, quite politely to Butcher’s surprise. He thought you’d be another cocky hero that he’d like to punch.

Still, he’s learned over the years never to trust a supe no matter how friendly they are. Starlight has probably come closest to that exception. But not quite.

When Butcher gave the group the ‘okay’ they all pulled out their badges and showed you what they had. You took a look and then you nodded a little before you opened your door wider and allowed them to come into your home.

Your day had started out quiet, peaceful.

You had your own, nice, little cabin in the woods where you got a beautiful view of the mountains and there was even a creek below you that you would visit once in a while. But then, much to your surprise, you had some unexpected company.

At your door there was a tall, burley man with a beard and an accent. With him, there was a lanky looking man that was clearly trying to prove himself worthy of something, an African American man that you could tell was on the side of good and he just wanted to get back to his family, and finally there was a French man that looked high off his ass but he had good intentions.

Now they were all in your house drinking your coffee, tea for the man with the accent, and they were all in your living room staring at you with some sort of bewilderment in their eyes.

“So… what brings you folks here? I don’t believe I actually got any actual introductions from you other than the fact that you’re FBI and have some questions for me.” You said.

“Actually, Miss, my name’s Billy Butcher. This ‘ere is Hugie, Frenchie, and Marvin - we call ‘im M.M.” Butcher said and you swore you’ve heard that name before. Then it hit you.

“Aren’t you the idiot that blew up Stillwell?” You asked, honestly kind of impressed that he wasn’t still in hiding or something.

“She was already dead when I lit up the joint.”

“Uh huh… Good for you though. She seemed like a bitch on television.” You admitted.

“Wouldn’t know much about that one, Love.” Butcher continued and you shrugged.

“Anyways, an we get on with business? We don’t have a lot of time.” M.M. reminded all of the guys there and you sat down in your recliner and set your coffee mug on the nightstand.

“Well you see, Miss L/N…” Hughie trailed off.

“Ah, don’t make me feel so ancient. Just call me Y/N. For the sake of my own sanity.” You said and Hughie grinned.

“Okay, Y/N. The truth is that we’ve come across your file. And we know of your brief history with Vought, Miss Quake.” The very name of the industry made you feel sick to your stomach because of what the place has become.

Yes, you were a retired supe. You went by the name Quake because of your ability to manipulate the earth, take chunks of the ground up and toss them around, you could cause buildings to fall and well… cause Earthquakes.

You didn’t associate yourself with Vought any longer and you were glad that your numbers weren’t high enough to have that much popularity amongst citizens. That’s all it boiled down to nowadays; popularity and money.

“Yes I have a history but that was literal decades ago. I’m retired now and I like the fact that no one’s found me or knew who I was up until this point. How did you find me?” You began to question.

“That doesn’t matter. What matters is that we know you had a history with Soldier Boy for a brief moment. We need to know about the weapon that killed him.” Butcher cut in and you looked down at your mug, still sitting on the stand.

“Do you even know what killed him?” You shook your head.

“I was never a part of Soldier Boy’s team. My numbers weren’t high enough to be on the team and they didn’t consider me an asset. Plus I didn’t even want to be on his team. You see what that kind of power does to people. Look at Homelander and the Seven.” You reminded.

“So what was your history with him?”

“A complicated one. He had his relationship with Crimson Countess, and he had his relationships with other girls, whether they were regulars or one-night-stands.” You sighed then you looked at Hughie.

“Never meet your heroes, kid. They’re likely just a bunch of money hungry womanizers with some kind of need of approval because they never got the attention they needed from a certain parent or set of parents.” You rolled your eyes.

“You want to know how he got killed? Ask one of his former team members. There’s Crimson Countess, obviously. Then there’s Black Noir, Mindstorm, Gunpowder, Swatto, and the TnT Twins. You never know, maybe the sidekick will be more than happy to let you know how he died. They never liked their team leader much. Hell, I bet you that lady that formed your little group knows. Oh what’s her name… Malice? Malicious? Oh that’s right, Mallory.”

“Grace? How the bloody Hell do you know her?” Butcher said, and you were finding out quickly that he was sort of the unhinged type of man.

“When I retired from Vought, I gave some information on the super to her. Things she needed before she founded your little group. She knows a Hell of a lot more than she lets on. I’m surprised she’s not dead yet just because of how much she knows and what she keeps tabs on. You admitted.

The group got up and you did as well, “I’m sorry that I couldn’t be more help. I’m honestly glad that you’re doing something about Vought. I wish you all the luck on that because you’re going to need it.” You insisted.

“Why didn’t you want to be more involved with Vought? Didn’t you like the money that came with it and everything?” Frenchie asked and you shrugged.

“Kid, everyone likes money. But what would you do to get it? Are you really going to be so reckless and stupid, kill a few innocents here and there because you know some big corporation will cover your ass on it? It would weigh too much on my conscience. And I never thought a girl like Starlight would be wrapped up in that shit.”

“Well… we’re sorry to bother you, Ma’am. Thank you for talking with us.” Hughie said yet again.

“When you do talk to Grace… ask her about Nicaragua. She’ll know what happened there.” You insisted and you saw a certain look on Butcher’s face. You were shocked that Mallory hadn’t told them anything about this.

Then you looked over at M.M, who had been quiet almost the whole time. You carefully placed a hand on his shoulder, “I’m so, so sorry about your family.”

“How did you-“

“You and your little team haven’t exactly been discreet over the past couple of years. You’ve been on the news a couple of times and I got curious about your group. The internet is a really useful place.” You said and he gave a slight grin,

“I know what Soldier Boy did, and I hate that he did it. But I also know that once you jump into this rabbit hole of vengeance, it’s awful hard to climb out and get back to the people that are still alive who love you.”

“Thank you.. But I think I’ve come a little too far to turn around now.” The man said and he started to join his group.

You watched as the band of vigilantes made it to their van while you stood at the front door. As they drove off in the distance, you pulled out a necklace from your shirt and you looked down at. You stared at the pendant and remembered the very day that it was given to you.

1984…

“I’m really getting a bad feeling about this, Ben. Maybe you shouldn’t go.” You said as you looked up into his eyes.

Ben was dressed in his uniform, all but his helmet and shield which were both set beside the door. He caressed your cheek with his gloved hand and he looked down at you.

“Y/N, what kind of a man would I be if I didn’t serve my county. I have to do this, and you know it.”

“You’d be a man taking a stand against some company that’s just in the business for the money rather than actually serving the county. You know that.”

“They’re doing this to show the military that we can be useful in battle. We can give our own troops the advantage here if we get involved. That can change the future of our military, change it for the better. Our country needs us out there.” He said, trying his best to persuade you.

“And what happens if something goes wrong? You know your little team somehow always gets you into some kind of trouble with Edgar.” You said while you looked away from him, the feeling in your stomach clearly not going away anytime soon.

“Hun, I know how to whip my team into shape. They know not to double cross me or to get us in any kind of trouble.” He told you, using his hand to make you look up and face him so he could get a good look at you.

“Now, why don’t you and I have a little quickie before I hit the road, hmm?” He asked with a cheeky grin and you rolled your eyes.

“Ben, I’ve already told you. I’m not doing anything with you until you break things off with Countess. I have some standards, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah… You have to be some kind of goody two-shoes.” He joked.

“Well no, I just don’t want to be just a side hooker. You have plenty of those and you can call me selfish, but I don’t exactly want to share.” You said and placed your hands on your hips.

“Uh huh. I just think you’re playing hard to get.” He smiled down at you and you shrugged a little.

“But you know that I can’t just break things off publicly without Vought’s say so.” He reminded you, causing you to let out a sigh.

“I’m starting to get that picture a little too well.”

Ben frowned when you looked away from him yet again. He knew that if the two of you ever did have a relationship one day, you wanted it to be one where you had him all to yourself. And he wanted that too, more than anything. And he was planning to break things off with Crimson Countess after the trip out of the country. That way the two of you could finally be together the way that you want to be together.

He let go of your face before he reached into one of his pockets and he handed you a little box and placed it in the palm of your hand.

“Just promise me that you’ll wait for me until I come home. This will be that reminder that I’ll always come back to you.”

You looked in the palm of your hand and saw the little box but that was when there was a knocking at your door, it was his teammates calling Soldier Boy.

When you looked up at him, you spoke yet again, “I really don’t think you should do this.”

“I have to go. It’s my job. I’ll be okay and I’ll be back for you.” Ben promised before he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. Then you turned around and watched him leave out of your front door.

That was the last time you had ever gotten to see Soldier Boy alive.

You fiddled with the pendant that was around your neck, admiring the fact that it looked exactly like Ben’s shield. You wore that necklace every day since he left and up until he was presumed dead, you held onto the hope that he really would come back to you one day.

You never knew exactly how he felt about you back then because in the public, he would always dote on Countess. He would say how much he loved her and how he’d do anything for you, and you wondered just how much of that was for show. You remembered how many other women that he had on the side as well and back then you wondered if he’d really give all of that up for you when you were just another low class supe.

Yet anytime you would have those doubts, you could still remember the way he would come and visit you after a tough job. There were nights where he would just sit there and hold you while the both of you would just talk. He would talk about the fact that he wanted kids one day, you would point out that he probably already did have a few kids scattered around the states. He would just laugh. But then he would say that if he were to have the family that he always wanted, you would always be in that picture. Not Countess.

Of course, you weren’t totally sure if he meant that. Especially since you saw less and less of him after you retired. But a girl could dream, right?

The day that Vought announced Ben’s death, that was the day your little world shattered. You should have tried harder to convince him to stay behind with you. His team could show the military they could be involved without him. You should have done more when you had those feelings that something would go wrong.

You tucked the necklace back into your shirt and walked away from the door, then you made your way into your little office room. There, you saw a little chest and you pulled it out from under your desk before setting it on the top of your desk. Inside of this chest were envelopes of letters you’ve written over the decades.

Each one of the letters were addressed to Ben. There must’ve been at least two hundred letters that you’ve sent over the years.

You didn’t know why you decided to write letters to a dead man. You knew how morbid it seemed but for some reason, it helped you cope. You would write on the holidays, his birthday, your birthday, and any other moment that you would think about him. You thought about him often over the years.

Since that group of men came to see you, you started thinking about Soldier Boy yet again. So you grabbed your sheets of paper, your ink pen, and an envelope before you set them on the flat surface and took your seat.

My Dearest Ben,

It started off as just another day for me. Then these men came by.

They seemed like an odd bunch of people, not necessarily men by your standards, though you are a bit of a traditionalist, aren’t you? Butcher would probably be the closest to your expectations of a man. But they were looking for the weapon that killed you. I have a hunch that they may want to use it on the hero Homelander. I told them that I wasn’t in Nicaragua. That whatever the weapon was must’ve been in Russia.

I told you that you shouldn’t have gone there. I wish you would have listened and stayed behind with me. We could have gone away and you could have retired from all of the mess Vought insisted you get into. You could have finally broken things off with Countess and you and I could have finally been together…

I miss you every day and I wish things could have been different. I wish that I could see your cocky-ass smile again, tell you to watch your mouth whenever you’d say something wildly inappropriate. I wish that I could hug you again and just be in your arms again.

Ben, sometimes I wonder if there’s any hope that you’re still out there. You’re the strongest man I’ve ever knwon and there’s no way that you could have been killed so easily. I know it’s ridiculous and there’s more than likely no way for you to be alive. Yet I still can’t help but have that hope.

You promised me that you’d always come home. I still wear the necklace you gave me every day. I’ll wear it until the day I die - if that day ever comes.

Always yours…

Y/N

After you folded the paper and put it in the envelope, you wrote the date on the front of the envelope beneath Ben’s name then put the letter in the chest amongst the others. Then you shut the chest and ran your fingers through your hair.

Whatever those men were looking for, you wondered if they would ever find it. You wondered if the weapon that killed Soldier Boy was even real or if those poor guys were just going on some wild, international goose chase if they would really end up going to Russia. You didn’t even know if Homelander would even be killable.

Whatever Butcher and his group of friends were trying to do, you hoped they would be successful. And hopefully they’d find whatever it was they’re looking for.

All you wanted was closure as to how exactly Ben died.

Hello everyone! I hope you enjoyed Part 1 of this story! I’m not sure how long it will be but this first part was definitely enjoyable to write and I hope that the rest of this story will turn out to be good! I’m glad to finally start writing about Soldier Boy 😁

Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373 @fanfic-n-tabulous @chriszgirl92 @hobby27 @nancymcl @globetrotter28 @jackles010378

#soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy jensen #jensen the boys #the boys #the boys amazon #jensen ackles soldier boy #jensen ackles #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x y/n

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eclecticqueennerd · 7 months

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Bad Idea Right?

youtube

*inspired by the song ‘Bad Idea Right?’ by Olivia Rodrigo.

*Language, smut, violence, breakup, alcohol consumption* Billy Butcher x reader

It’s been a few months since you left the boys. The direction Butcher was leading the group was a surefire plan to get you all killed and you wanted nothing to do with it. Convincing Butcher to take a moment to mull plans over instead of going in guns blazing was a tall order, one that ultimately made you decide that a relationship with him was not worth your life. You tried to convince the rest of the gang to leave but all that got you was a bunch of noes and a broken heart. Butcher, even with all his asshole ways, held your heart in his hand and it hurt to walk away from him. At least you have Annie keeping you company.

-Wyd 2nite?

Tearing your eyes away from the TV as you lounged on the dingy bed of your motel room Grace Mallory stashed you in, you typed out your response to Annie.

-nm, u?

-wanna meet up w Kimiko n go out?

-yass!

You and Annie meet up with Kimiko just outside of a nightclub. After you gather and exchange hugs, you go in and begin drinking and dancing to the heavy bass playing on the stereo. Multicolored lights flash all around you as you allow yourself to succumb to the party atmosphere. After the song ends, the three of you spot a booth off in the corner of the club and make your way there, stopping at the bar to refill your drinks. The three of you catch up. Annie was still in Vought Tower, Kimiko still working with Frenchie and The Boys. Kimiko gives a recount of how everyone else was doing in the group, including Butcher.

‘He really misses you.’ Kimiko signs. ‘We all really miss you. You should come back.’ You shake your head.

“No, I think it’s better for me to stay away. Butchers gonna get someone killed.” You could feel vibration coming from your phone in the pocket of your dress. Lifting it in front of your blurry eyes you blink a few times to clear them. You try to make out the name but it’s an unknown number, you declined the call.

“Besides, he probably hates me now.” Vibration came from your phone again. *Decline* Another call from the unknown number.

“He doesn’t hate you, y/n. I don’t think-” Annie begins to say but then you interject,

“I’m sorry, I gotta take this. This asshole keeps calling me.” Walking out of the club, you answer the call and before you can talk, you hear a gruff voice on the other line,

“Y/n?” You’d recognize that voice from anywhere. The last time you heard him speak was four months ago when you told him you were breaking up with him.

“Y/n, you there?”

“Butcher?”

“I need your help.”

“What happened?”

“I’m hurting real bad. I need you to come help me.”

“If you’re really that hurt-”

“Y/n, please.” You hear the desperation in his voice. He never begs for anything; he must be down bad. You let out an exasperated sigh and then *click*.

“Butcher? Billy?” You look at the phone screen and see that the call has ended. *ping* An address pops up on your phone. You sigh again. Tapping the edge of your phone on your forehead in frustration, you make your decision. You meet up with Annie and Kimiko and tell them that you’ll catch up with them later, you’ve got something you have to deal with. Rather, someone. But you didn’t dare tell them that.

Hailing a cab and telling the driver the address, you kept thinking this was not a good idea. From what you heard from the gang; Butcher did not take the breakup well. He broke things, drank more, and pushed everyone to their breaking point. MM had to leave the group to regain his sanity, only to return shortly after leaving. Kimiko recounted that Butcher was better when you were around. So why the hell was he calling you if you caused him so much pain? Watching the progression of your map marker reach its destination on Google Maps, your heart began to beat harder in your chest. The car stopped outside of a tall brick building. Tipping the cab driver you made your way in, texting Butcher and asking which level and unit he was in.

Trekking up the steps, heart pounding in your chest, the blurriness in your eyes from the booze now cleared, you made your way to his door. *knock, knock, knock* The door swung open, and across the threshold was Billy Butcher. Still the same handsome man you turned to putty for not too long ago. He stood before you shirtless, clad in green sweatpants. Your mouth went dry, and the screaming thoughts in your brain telling you to march right back down those steps ceased. The two of you just stood there, staring at each other.

“You uhh… gonna let me in or what?” Butcher blinks and then makes an opening for you to slip through. Hearing the soft click of the door shut behind you, you take in the emptiness of his studio apartment. The only furniture in the room was a pull-out bed with tangled sheets, coffee table covered in empty alcohol bottles and a box TV on a beat-up nightstand. You feel guilty for a moment as when the two of you were together, the apartment you lived in never got to this state.

“You said you were hurt?” You said as you turned around to face Butcher. He just stands there, holding a sweating beer bottle in his hand, eyes scanning you up and down. His eyes settle on your cleavage. You snap your fingers to get his attention. It works.

“What did you need help with?” Butcher explains that he needed to be patched up on his back. Turning him around you see that it’s scratches with some gravel lodged in the deeper lacerations. Most of the wounds were superficial, and none of them needed sutures.

“Jesus what did you do tonight, Butcher?”

“Got in a tussle. You gon help me or not?”

“Yeah, turn around.” As you begin cleaning the wounds on Butcher's back, your thoughts then return telling you that you should not be here and you should have gotten MM to clean his back up. After using a tweezer to pull out the small bits of gravel from his back, you grabbed a paper towel and doused it with hydrogen peroxide.

“This is gonna sting.” Before you got a reply out of him, Butcher hissed at the light dabbing you placed on his wounds with the paper towel. As he hissed, you saw the muscles in Butcher's back tense, reminding you of the times he had you on your back and was fucking up into you, head cradled in the crook of your neck, giving you a perfect view of his shoulders and back. You shake your head.

“Okay all done. Be more careful next time.” Throwing the used items in the trash bag and make your way to the bathroom to wash your hands in the bathroom sink. Splashing cold water on your face, makeup be damned, attempting to slow down the growing desire in your core. Walking out of the bathroom, you spot a Hawaiian shirt on the floor, torn and bloody. You look down to inspect it.

“Aw man, this was the shirt I gave you for your birthday. It’s fucked.” You see Butcher pouring two glasses of amber-colored liquor, and he offers you a glass.

“My favorite shirt.” He replies. You shake your head to decline the drink, but Butcher, being who he is, insists. Yanking the glass out of his hand and downing the amber liquid in one gulp, you set the glass down on the counter. You give him a brief goodbye and walk toward the door. Butcher grabs your wrist; you turn and see a silent plea in his eyes. Your brain screaming at you to fly down those steps and out of the building, your heart telling you to be in his arms again. He’s not good for you, he’ll get you killed.

Fuck it, it's fine. You pull Butcher down into a feverish kiss. His mouth met yours with as much passion. You both shuffle to the edge of the pull-out bed, and you push Butcher backward. He falls back easily, letting you take the lead. You go to remove your dress when Butcher places his hands on yours and assists you in pulling it over your head. Once the garment was removed, you straddle Butcher and continue kissing him with the same fiery passion as before, his hands roaming all over your exposed form. You sit up and rock your hips against his, generating some friction for your needy core. Locking eyes with him, you see that Butcher's hazel iris is now covered by his pupils, eyes entirely covered in black. After a few more hip gyrations, Butcher pulls you back down to kiss you. He poured everything into the kiss, tongues, and teeth clashing. You pull away from Butcher and help him lower his sweatpants. Once free, you grab ahold of his throbbing cock and pump it a few times then line it up to your core, rubbing the tip along your slit. Butcher moans. As you sank down on him, you feel your cunt stretch to take all of him in. Once at full hilt, you take a moment to pause to get used to feeling him inside you again. Butcher sat up and rubbed your cheek with his thumb, wiping a few tears you didn’t realize were falling.

“I’ve missed you luv.” Butcher said as he stared into your eyes. It was as if he was looking into your soul, searching for something. You leaned forward and gave him a soft kiss on his lips as you began moving yourself on his cock. Butcher groaned, wrapping one hand around the back of your head and wrapped the other around your waist. The two of you moved in sync, you grind your hips to meet his light thrusts, gasps and moans filling the apartment. You feel the coil in your belly begin to tighten, Butcher felt it too. He then flips the two of you over to where you’re lying on your back and he’s positioned above you, grabbing your legs to wrap around his waist. He buried his head in the crook of your neck as he began to quicken his pace.

“Billy, don’t’ stop… I’m close.” You pant. Butcher takes his right hand and begins to rub circles around your clit, which pushed you over the edge. Butcher follows shortly after, spilling his cum into you with a roar. The two of you lay on the bed, fighting to catch your breath. After a few moments, you get up from the bed to get dressed. Looking for your dress under the bed, Butcher reaches his hand out and gently places it on top of yours. You look up at him and he says,

“Stay with me.” The internal struggle was real at this moment. Your brain tells you to leave, that this man was no good, but you loved Butcher. In the end, your heart won the battle, and you climbed in next to Butcher, snuggling up next to his side. Butcher whispered sweet nothings into your ear, promising you all the things that he said he would do from now on, and that he loved you. Silence fell between you. Just before Butcher fell asleep, you said,

“You know, Annie was proud of me for getting out. She’s gonna be pissed to hear that we’re back together.” Butcher turns his head to look at you.

“What’re you gonna tell her?”

“Oh, I dunno… maybe that I tripped and fell into your bed.” the two of you chuckle before falling into a restful sleep.

#the boys #billy butcher #the boys amazon #karl urban #billy butcher x reader #mothers milk #kimiko the boys #the boys series #william butcher #annie january #billy butcher fanfic #billy butcher x you #billy butcher imagine #billy butcher x y/n #Youtube

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aspureasamelody · 1 month

Note

Not Kimiko killing that poor plant

It never stood a chance, I fear.

My theories for each of the plants:

Clay: He's done a perfect job tending to his, no notes. Probably has a specially developed orchid fertilizer he makes after looking up the specific nutritional needs for it and a very regular schedule for watering and checking the soil. It's going to be the first to blossom. It's going to maintain the biggest, most robust flowers, the thickest stem, the most rubbery, strong leaves, the greenest green. Clay keeps taking care of his even after the growing exercise is over, and it becomes a well-maintained part of the greenhouse for years to come.

Raimundo: His plant looks shriveled, wrinkled and limp, especially the brittle-looking leaves as opposed to the round, full ones on the blooming orchids. It's definitely chronically underwatered. He probably hasn't been paying much attention to it, since he said the exercise is boring, so he only occasionally watered it when Master Fung prodded him about it. His is still salvageable with some misting and high humidity though, he probably saves it after the lessons he learns in this episode and it probably eventually recovers, and maybe flowers, just much later and much less vibrantly than Clay's or Omi's.

Kimiko: Not a leaf in sight, and a stem so weak and lifeless it can't stand under its own weight, whole thing looks mushy... Yeah, this one's not gonna make it, I fear. I think she's been genuinely trying, but overcorrecting when she makes a mistake and doesn't want to ask the others for advice. It probably started out as the plant experiencing shock from temperature fluctuations because Kimiko initially had it under too much sun and too much dry heat, she tries to fix it with cold and overwatering, it got root rot. It's past the point of being salvageable. Hopefully Master Fung gives her a new one to start over. If not, I'm sure Clay will give her a seed from his once it blooms.

Omi: His looks like it's growing relatively fine, just slow. He's probably not giving it the proper balance of fertilizer that Clay's using. I also imagine Omi's is slightly overwatered, which is also making it harder to take up as many nutrients as Clay's, but Omi definitely isn't letting it get to the point of root rot or anything. It'll be the second to eventually blossom, after Clay's.

#xiaolin showdown #clay bailey #omi #kimiko tohomiko #master fung #raimundo pedrosa

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speedycoffeedelight · 6 days

Text

An Animalistic Disaster

Masterlist

A.n : So I reached my main goal of the beginning!!!! 1k in both Wattpad and Ao3 !!! Lessgoo!!!!! ✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧

Thank you everyone who read and liked this story and gave votes and kudos!! You guys inspire me to keep on writing!!!

As for the promised QnA. I think I'll do that once all the harem characters have joined. This type of thing won't happen much after all.

Also I promise I'm working on the next chapter. (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠) till it comes, here's some songs that goes with the story/ reminds me of them. Warning, I'm shit with love songs.

I'm not going to release the full playlist yet since it contains heavy spoilers. Same thing with the Oc's.

(Y/n)'s playlist

- Fictional by khloe rose.

(The feelings the reader had since she was little. Also the type of song that inspired me to write this self insert fanfic.)

- Rat by Penelope Scott

(This describes the relationship between the reader and her dad. How she feels deep inside. Also, I dunno if this counts much as a spoiler, but her dad is an engineer, so yeah. )

- W.I.T.C.H by Devon cole

(Wether someone calls her a witch or an ogre, she doesn't care. She can handle herself and that's all that matters.

And we stan a strong queen in this household)

Alastor x (Y/n)

-Never ever getting rid of me by Kimiko gleen

(You made him fall in love, so be prepared to deal with him 24/7.

Cause he ain't going anywhere honey)

Charlie x (Y/n)

- Adore by Mindy gleehill

( And here she goes, singing again. But this time it's directed towards the reader.

Poor girl can't control her heart around you. )

Vaggie x (Y/n)

- Boyfriend by Dove Cameron

(She knows she can treat you better then any man can.

And she's going to prove it )

Cherri Bomb x ( Y/n)

- Favourite by Isabel Larosa

(She's quite jealous of all the others stealing your attention. So can you really blame her for wanting to be your favourite?)

Pentious x (Y/n)

- Honeypie by Jawny

(He is determined to make you his and he won't stop till he does that.

He also can't get enough of your sweetness<3 )

Lucifer x (Y/n) [this is considering he gets chosen as a love interest]

- Checklist by Max

( What do you need? He's got it covered. He's going to spoil you rotten to have you all to himself.

The ruler of hell doesn't slack off in this area )

Husk x (Y/n)

- Older by lsabell Larosa

( I HAD to put this song here. Besides who wouldn't like an older man you could easily rely on?

This is basically reader's feelings about him.)

Angel x (Y/n)

- New side of me by Blake Roman

( He can't help but feel soft inside when he thinks about you. And it scares him.

He's never had anyone love him like you before.)

Niffty and (Y/n) [platonic]

- Sweet little psycho

(She's your very own sweet but psycho puppy.

Anyone disturbs you too much? Release her over them. :) )

Vox x (Y/n) [Will come in future]

-Criminal by Brittney spears

(He's our pathetic lovable criminal. You know you shouldn't fall for him, but what can you say?)

Adam x (Y/n) [ Will come in future]

- Genius by LSD

( Don't be fooled, he's no genius no matter what he might say. But he did make the correct call by falling for someone like you.

Someone who can manhandle and keep him in line.)

Lute x ( Y/n ) [Will come in future]

- Love like you

(She doesn't understand how she of all people managed to fall for you. This feeling should be a sin.

Yet, when she gets close to you, she can't regret it. )

An Animalistic Disaster playlist

- Can't sleep love by pentatonix

(I can just imagine the reader and Melody talking in phone like this. The reader can't decide what to do with all these feelings since all her fictional crushes have actually come to life AND living with her. She can't decide if she should act on it or not. Melody is already done with her shit and telling her to go back to sleep.)

- Bang bang by K'naan

( Okay, this is for my own brain rot. This is for everyone in the harem x reader. I can see the animation meme happening clearly in my head.

Every line is sang by different characters and when the 'bang' parts comes, a animal turns into human after getting hit by reader's love shot :)

Like-

She was walking around with a loaded shotgun - Angel

Ready to fire me a hot one - Cherri

It went- Charlie

*Sheep Charlie* BANG *human Charlie*

*Squirrel Cherri* BANG * Human Cherri*

*Deer Alastor* BANG * *Human Alastor*

Straight through my heart - Alastor

Maybe one day, if I learn to do animation. I'll make something like this. )

Tag list: @legostars @glowinthedarkbones1150 @darifes @aria-tempest @rainbowcake1212 @luxylucylou

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #charlie x reader #vaggie x reader #angel dust x reader #husk x reader #cherri bomb x reader #sir pentious x reader #vox x reader #lucifer x reader #adam x reader #lute x reader #hazbin hotel playlist

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666writingcafe · 8 months

Text

Solomon: A Horror Movie

Inspired by the following reblog from @kimiko-dear: Solomon appears in front of people with a special dish he made just for them--the horror doesn't end after the jump scare.

Not gonna lie, kinda ran away with this concept.

It was his greatest experiment yet. He bought a bunch of ingredients that many people--even the cashier at the grocery store--warned him to not mix together. Ever the scientist, he wanted to know why he received such warnings and what would happen if he disregarded them. As it turns out, the ingredients in question had magical qualities that, when combined, came out in cursed ways. Thankfully, no one died from Solomon's experiment, but he made sure to record the results of each of his test subjects (or victims, depending on who you ask).

Since MC is his beloved apprentice, he spared them from his diabolical experiment, although he made sure to tell them all about it in great detail (which makes MC quite uneasy).

He also does not perform this experiment on Luke: a, because he's the angel equivalent of a child; and b, because Solomon knows Simeon would do unspeakable things to him if he hurt Luke in any way (things that would make him wish he was dead).

Speaking of Simeon, the angel is Solomon's first subject/victim. The sorcerer prepares what appears to be a simple sandwich and presents it to his roommate by sneaking up on him as he's in the middle of writing. The sandwich causes Simeon to experience random chills.

Barbatos knows that this is coming from a mile away and tries everything in his power to avoid Solomon. In the end, though, the butler finds himself trapped in the castle's kitchen and has no choice but to consume the paella thrust in front of him. He starts developing spots all over his body.

Solomon sneaks Belphie's cursed enchilada to him while he's sleeping in the attic. MC tries to warn the youngest brother to not eat the enchilada, but by the time they get to him, it's too late: Belphie is now a talking toad.

You know that one character in a horror movie that's screaming their ass off as the villain is chasing them? That's Mammon as soon as he hears Solomon's footsteps. Only the two of them know how the calzone ended up in his mouth, but the entire House (and possibly anyone within a 100 mile radius) hears him screeching that he's developed elephant ears.

There are times where Asmo is sharp as a whip and other times where he's a huge airhead. Unfortunately for him, Solomon catches him in one of his ditzy moods, and he happily accepts the chimichanga that the sorcerer prepared for him. Like Mammon, his screams echo throughout the House as he discovers that his nose has turned into a snout (and not a cute one, either).

Solomon almost gives into the urge to prepare a dish for Diavolo but ultimately decides against it. As soon as MC hears about this, they practically sprint to the castle and into Diavolo's room. Not only does MC need a break from the insanity unfolding around them, but they absolutely intend on punishing Solomon for his actions and wants the demon prince's help in making sure justice is served.

MC receives text updates from Solomon about his next three victims. Beel ate chili that made him shoot up three feet, Satan's sushi performed a gender swap on him, and the cake Levi consumed turned him into a living, mute statue.

And then MC gets a call from Lucifer that makes them see red. You see, Solomon prepared the eldest brother some soup and left it in his office with a note forged in MC's handwriting. Lucifer was just tired enough to not question it too much and consequently ate the soup; now, he's hallucinating. You see, due to the trauma that Lucifer has gone through during his existence, anything he hallucinates turns nightmarish real quickly, and so he's basically sobbing as he's relaying to MC what he's seeing.

Diavolo has to physically stop MC from hunting Solomon down and tearing him limb to limb. While the demon prince thinks that MC's fury is completely justified, he believes that the sorcerer deserves a more drawn-out punishment where everyone that consumed his abominations gets their due revenge.

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bowieandqueen11 · 2 years

Text

Looking After A Sick Billy Butcher Would Include...

Request: I love your Billy Butcher headcanons so much! 🥰 If you are looking for another Billy Butcher idea i think either 'Looking after a Sick Billy Butcher' or 'Billy Butcher with a Plus Size reader' would be adorable, as your Steven Grant ones are so beautifully written 💕 thank you for all your incredible writing, you are truly amazing 💐

Oh thank you so much @missscarlettangel!!! You’re always the loveliest and kindest

Warning: a little strong language and slight NSFW!

(I do not own The Boys or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @9thblogboyz.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Billy Butcher is such a dramatic ass hoe when’s sick dearie me. If you think he’s an annoying git before this, just wait until the sniffles start settling in, the man could annoy a saint to high heaven.

The man will not stay in bed. At all. You came into the home base to immediately be greeted with a near-crying Hughie and near-fuming Kimiko trying to wrestle the a**hole down onto his bed. Naturally, this ended with Hughie flying back and landing ass over tea cup through the bed side table and half off the wall, and Kimiko releasing her failing grip on his arm in shock. As soon as Billy spots you standing there, he comes swaggering out from the room, clad in his black jumper and jeans and pretending that he’s ‘alright, love. Me ‘ead is just a bit unda the weather today, that’s all.’ Even with his slick words, you can tell by how sweaty his forehead is that the man is about to keel over. He’s so damn stubborn - too prideful to admit that he could ever have a fault, but deep down, he’s also scared stricken to think he has an exploitable weakness when he’s supposed to be the big mad Charcuter. He’ll only let you touch him: and so you do, wrapping an arm past the buckles of his belt and holding onto the thick muscles around his hip. He jauntily wraps an arm around your shoulder, pretending to be as cocky as ever as you stroll him towards the living area.

‘Thanks darlin’, he whispers against the tip of your ear with a ragged breath. ‘I couldn’t take the yammering of them two cunts in my face any more. I’m glad you’re back now, we got a new job-’. He lets go of you, fisting his hand and hacking a cough against it until you push him down on the sofa to make him nap.

He’s literally that knackered that he passes out pretty much straight away. You sigh, squatting down near the window to pull off his boots and leave them resting under the perch. You wave at Hughie as he sneaks out on his tip toes like he’s in ‘Scooby Doo’ towards the door and mouths exaggeratedly at you that he’s ‘going to get some soup’. Once you’re done smiling him out, you lift Butcher’s head and wiggle onto the sofa underneath him, gently squishing his cheek back down onto your lap. For once you’re overjoyed that M.M. and Frenchie are busy arguing as they stand in front of a makeshift cork board in the safe, or Billy would never let you hear the end of it for making look like such a sap. You’re stuck there for a while: Billy whimpers in his sleep, his arms ending up at some point wrapping around your knees and sticking you in place under his thick biceps.

The man is still clambering all over you as soon as he wakes up though. It could be the literal raining hell fire of the end of days washing down on the two of you and Billy Butcher would still be trying to climb over you like a tree. Not even in a fully sexual way - he adores you more than anything in this world, and needs some kind of constant touch when he’s feeling unsure as a reassurance that you’re still real. That you haven’t left him yet too. That he hasn’t destroyed you. You could be be sitting cross legged on the sofa next to him, huffing as you pull the blanket back up his shoulders every time Billy grumbles and pulls it off again. Dropping the cup of tea he was sipping, he uses his large fingers to quickly grab yours and pound them both down on the table. The desperation is evident in every sharp movement: the way he’s straight to grabbing your waist and pulling you onto his lap till you’re straddling his thick thighs, the pressure of his chin as his stubble scratches the curve of your neck, right under your earlobe. By the smirk you can feel, you know he’s doing it just to tease you, knowing it drives you wild. His arms wrap like an iron vice as he peppers languid, unrushed kisses up your pulse point. Like I’m sorry but can you imagine those coarse, rough, devoting hands running up your shoulders? Those harsh thumbs gripping the back of your head tightly and pulling you back until he’s angled you perfectly? You’re putty in his grasp, and as he grinds his midriff up against you and hears the pained whine fall from your lips, he knows it. He wets his lips, attacking your chin, and then the corner of your mouth - and then he ends up sneezing before his desperate mouth can rove any further.

The problem is, he sneezes exactly as M.M. is walking past; the poor man is just holding a cup of coffee, minding his own business as he goes to read his file in his desk chair. After a moment of standing there in confusion, he runs off to shower and makes Frenchie and Annie hose down his clothes outside for half an hour straight. He spends the rest of the day glaring at Butcher from his desk, taking out antiseptic wipes every ten minutes and spraying a can of air freshener out in his direction with a disgusted frown.

You know better than to try and feed Billy. The man would literally snap your fingers off. Sadly, Frenchie was still under the illusion that he could just... skirt around this lesson, and came waddling happily towards Butcher with Hughie’s broth in one arm and a holding a spoon with the other. Once the airplane noises start, and the whooshing spoon through the air... well, let’s just say that it is a very lucky coincidence that there was so much traffic down fifth avenue today and the broth was tepid by the time Hughie got back. Two hours later, Frenchie is still running around with wet trousers, picking pieces of celery out of his pants and running after M.M. every time he calls him ‘pee pee boy’.

Billy always acts as if everyone’s annoying the heck out of him, but in reality, he just wants to be left alone with you for a while. By ten o’clock he’s so fed up of Hughie throwing him pity looks, and Frenchie pecking like a mother hen in his face, that he gets up and locks himself in the bathroom just to breathe for a damn minute. When you hesitantly knock twice on the door, and he unlocks it, on the floor is where you find him: curled up with his back to the wall and his knees drawn up to his chest, trying to drown out the memories of how similar the withdrawals from compound V felt as they pound through his brain. You’ll have to sit by his side, huddled up with your arm looped through his stiff one and spreading your fingers out over his kneecap, massaging it. Although he doesn’t like too much physical touch when he’s so withdrawn as he is, if your fingers leave his knee for one second he’ll start whining like a kicked puppy.

You do get to help him change out of his jumper at the end of the night though hm hm (even though he’s bloody perfectly well enough to do it himself and you both know it.) He has that shit eating smirk on his face when he sees you back in his doorway, and he holds his hands out to you, beckoning you towards him. He takes a few steps back once he feels your fingers latch onto the pads of his own, his face lighting into a smile as you draw them down to tug at the hem of the rugged material. Before you can lift it though, he brings his sock round to kick the back of your heel and has you tumbling over the edge of the bed to lie on top of his chest.

And then... *ahem*... well let’s just say that all the clothes came off pretty quickly shall we?

By the way Hughie is literally sinking his face into the cereal bowl the next morning: the way Frenchie is trying to hide his spurts of laughter from where he’s playing cards with Kimiko: how M.M. rolls his eyes and lifts his newspaper to cover his face when the two of you come dandering out of his room, you didn’t manage to be as discrete as a *sick* Billy Butcher believes himself to be. His pair of undies swinging from the ceiling fan all but confirms it.

#the boys #the boys imagine #billy butcher #billy butcher imagine #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher headcanons #karl urban #the boys x reader #the boys headcanons #billy the boys #billy the boys imagine #billy butcher the boys #billy butcher the boys imagine #mm #mothers milk #frenchie #annie january #hughie campbell #kimiko

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theredofoctober · 10 months

Text

TWO TIME- BILLY BUTCHER X READER FIC

Crossposted from AO3

Synopsis: Reader is a double agent, struggling with the guilt of informing on the Boys' movements to Homelander. Butcher gets suspicious, and corners Reader in the office to get to the bottom of his feelings...

Reader's gender is not specified

TW: noncon/dubcon, threat, idk Billy is his own warning

Story after the cut, keep reading

It's dark when you return to base, the night swallowing the city like a pothole as you edge furtively through the front door, hoping to pass through it unseen.

You hate coming here. The precarious balance of risk, an asp-coil of danger; you loathe every aspect of your employment, yet you are bound to it through your need to do what's right. Through your loyalty to each member of the operation, who consider you one of them, now.

Even him.

Billy Butcher's rough voice lunges out of the the gloom like a jumping spider, all grinding catankerous gravel.

"What bloody time do you call this?"

He's been waiting for you for hours, must have been, broiling in a stew of his own temper.

"Uh, I don't think it's that late, sir," you stammer. "It's only 9.30..."

"Cunt o'clock, is what it is."

The boss watches you remove your coat, his every motion electric with distrust. One eye squints, a swollen pomegranate ripened by some stranger's fist, and there is blood under the black scruff of beard along his jawline. It scares you how often Butcher seeks out an uneven fight, a masochist, for all his posturing ego.

From across the room you smell him: the musk of sweat, stale cologne, the fug of beer. Rancid.

"You were due in at seven," Butcher gripes. "Been snuggling up to your pet Supe Homelander all night, have you?"

Primly, you hang up your hat and scarf on the wall hooks, each layer seeming to unearth a new vulnerability.

"Yes, I've been spending time with him," you say. "On your orders, sir."

You hate that Butcher holds this over you, the jig you're forced to dance between him and the tyrannical leader of the Seven. By day, you're the Homelander's latest fling, gleaning intel and private dirt from every interaction. By night, you belong to the Boys, although not entirely, nor could you ever be when the most powerful man in the world scents, on your skin, wherever you go, and who with.

Homelander lets you come here. He seems to thoroughly enjoy whatever game it is he's playing with these lesser beings, their fumbling attempts to end his monstrous reign.

If Butcher ever knew of this particular truth you suspect that you'd be dead. A traitor's end, luridly bloody in the manner of all things pertaining to this man and his hard justice.

"Sometimes I think you stretch my orders to the bloody limit," Butcher complains.

He can't let go of his resentment; more prodding comes, like devilish clockwork, quick, and cutting, and predictable.

"Sleepovers with Supertwat weren't on the fucking schedule. I'm starting to think you like the bastard."

"No," you murmur, placatingly. "Of course not. How could I? He's horrible."

Still, you don't meet the boss's eye as you hand him the folder you've been carrying under one arm, only linger, fidgeting, as he rifles through your painstakingly typed-out notes.

Of the rest of the team only two others are present: the Female, Kimiko, hunching low over a desk, and Frenchie, who watches you with an unhappy empathy, his arms wrapped tightly around his thin knees. They both look tired, strung out, as keen to leave as you are.

"At least Starlight had an excuse to fratsernise with Homelander," sneers Butcher, warming to his theme. "I don't like all this extracurricular you're putting in, alright?"

Tiring of the conversation, you mumble, timidly, "If Homelander asks me to stay late with him, then I have to do it. He gets so agitated; at any second he could hurt me, kill me. If he gets suspicious—"

"Always an excuse, eh, Two-Time?"

At this you physically flinch.

"Please don't call me that."

"Everyone gets a name here, treacle," says Butcher, grinning widely, proud to have struck a nerve. "Cheer up; least I haven't called you a cunt."

"Not yet," Frenchie mutters, and the boss looks up sharply.

"Got something to say, have you?"

The smaller man turns up the collar of his jacket and shrinks away into it.

"Nothing, nothing, mon ami."

Kimiko glances up from the table and signs quickly at Frenchie. You only know a smattering of the language, but one particular phrase you do understand, and tighten your lips against a laugh. You can't afford to rankle Butcher any further, who is clearly looking to start a fight with everyone, anyone, and no one in particular.

Attempting to placate him, you say, "Butcher, please. I think I'm starting to gain Homelander's trust. He tells me things about his feelings. He's very insecure. If we use that, we have a way in. To take him down."

Butcher merely grumbles under his breath, engrossed in your notes again. There is more to his mood than suspicion: a seething, reluctant jealousy, threatened by your proximity to Homelander, with whom he shares a vicious rivalry. Neither man can stand to have his authority shaken, but at times you almost fear Butcher more for his sheer lack of limitations.

Sensing the ugliness of his mood, you persist with your attempts to soothe him, aware, as you do so, of how low your self-respect has sunk.

"I'm sorry that I wasn't back on time," you rasp. "I'll do better. I didn't mean to undermine you, sir."

"Should fucking hope not."

Butcher's mood recedes slightly, and in the corner of your eye you see Frenchie shaking his head. He knows how to grovel better than anyone; you've heard it whispered that he's knelt to many men and women, and taken pleasure in it, as well as suffering.

Has Frenchie ever been on his knees for Butcher in this way?

Perhaps. Perhaps not. The thin line of Frenchie's mouth suggests that even he disapproves of your weakness.

Ashamed, you twist away, glancing longingly at your coat again.

"I... I should go," you falter. "Everything I got out of Homelander today is in that file. I'll see you tomorrow, I guess."

"Stay right there," says Butcher, sharply. "You and me are gonna have a private natter, one to one."

You blood runs like Arctic water, and you sense Frenchie's tension, Kimiko's mutinous stare.

"Is something wrong, sir?" you ask, quietly.

Butcher shrugs, a dangerous smile playing on his lips.

"You tell me," he says. "If you're as squeaky clean as you claim to be then you've got nothing to worry about, have you, love?"

He claps his rough hands together, and you almost jump out of your skin.

"Come on, then. Let's get it over with."

You scamper at his heels, your gut churning with nerves.

Butcher swaggers into a seldom used office and sits behind the desk, swinging his boots up onto its surface.

"Shut the door," he says. "Don't want them two lovebirds earwigging."

With quivering hands you obey, your eyes cast downwards, anywhere away from him.

"Got any idea what you're doing here?" asks Butcher, straight to business.

You shake your head with a perhaps telling quickness.

"No, I don't, sir."

Butcher groans softly.

"Fucking listen to ya. Like butter wouldn't melt. Makes a difference from the usual cuntery I have to put up with."

You don't reply, only shift from foot to foot like a student pulled up before the headteacher.

"Here's the thing," says Butcher. "I think there's a lot more to you than meets the eye. By which I mean to say, I reckon that you're a fucking liar."

Fear makes rigid every tendon in your body, and you shrink into yourself, your gaze still fixed on the floor, picking out every speck of dust and groove in the boards.

"I— I haven't lied about anything," you murmur, tremulously.

But as Butcher's mouth twists upwards like the grimace of a Halloween mask you regret the words, a stupid falsehood.

"Your report's lacking in some serious detail," Butcher announces. "You haven't said one piddly word about what Homelander has to say about me, and believe me, I know he's said something. Thinks about me like a school girl who's been sent a Valentines' card, the creepy fucker."

"He... he hasn't mentioned you to me lately," you say, clinging to bland denial. "We're close, but there's still a lot of stuff he won't talk about. This is what I was trying to tell you, I need more time—"

"Nah."

Butcher brings his boots down from the desk and leans towards you, his head at a predatory angle.

"You're hiding something."

Your mouth clicks dryly, robbed of its saliva.

"Sir, I—"

"'Sir' my left bollock. Wanna guess how I know there's something up?"

He's been following you, or some unknown party has ratted you out, or else Homelander himself has stopped by to gloat, and make you look the fool.

Perspiration gathers at the back of your neck, and you don't dare reach up to wipe it away.

Butcher says, "I can tell there's something wrong 'cause you can never look me in the fucking eye."

You glance up, unable to shield your surprise.

"Oh. That— that isn't because of Homelander. It's— I—"

Your voice is small, a humiliating wisp.

You can't look at him because you're afraid of him, and would be even if you were not guilty.

A new emotion blooms in Butcher's black eyes, something cruel, and clever, and gleeful. It boils your core with a nervous anticipation of what he may do to you, what you've long imagined him doing, in the sweating darkness of your bedroom, in the night.

"What was that, darlin'?" asks Butcher "You went a bit quiet there."

He stands up from the desk and prowls towards you, and you realise, with a start, how tall he is, his stature—draped in clashing shirt and black overcoat—of the the kind that might engulf you with a mere embrace.

You feel small, so very small, exhilarated, and afraid.

"Oi," says Butcher. "Look at me."

With effort you raise your eyes to his. He seems to like what he sees there, for some of his aggression narrows away, or else morphs into a more playful version of itself.

"Butcher," you almost-whisper, and he lists over you, holding your stare for so long that you wish you'd thought to drop the report and run.

"Nervy little thing, ain'tcha?" he says, mockingly. "Scared shitless. Think I'm gonna hurt you?"

You nod, incapable of speech.

"Aww," says Butcher, and pats your cheek mockingly. "Don't be stupid. You ain't a Supe; I got no reason to smack you about unless you give me one."

A current of anticipation sparks through you, and you nod again, swallowing a filmy clot of spit.

"That's the ticket," Butcher growls, and tilts back your head with a coarse gentleness, admiring your mouth, your throat, your body under the many layers of clothes.

It's cold in New York, and you've dressed for it, although you suspect that this measure won't last long.

"I wanna see you prove that you're my soldier," says Butcher, slyly. "Dedicated to the bloody cause."

You dither, feeling stupid and clumsy and eager, at pains not to make a greater fool of yourself.

"I... do you want me to..."

Your eyes dart about madly, resting, finally, at the buckle of Butcher's belt, thinking of Homelander, the usual manner of settling his temper.

Butcher notices the path of your gaze, and revels in it.

"Go on," he urges. "Don't be shy."

He's grinning ear to ear, observing your flustered glances and desperate want to please him. When you reach out shaking fingers to the front of his trousers and touch his groin you find it hard, and wonder how long it's been so.

"Fucking hell," Butcher breathes.

He watches you with remarkable restraint as you undo his belt buckle and zipper, releasing his rigid heat into your palm. Guilt thrums in a sickly undercurrent as you work your hand along him, thinking how quickly Butcher would turn if he knew all the nastiness Homelander has spilled into your ear about him. All the admiration, the hatred, and the love.

Butcher jerks your face upright again, giving you a little shake of warning.

"If I wanted to stare at the back of your head I'd fuck you over the desk. Keep looking at me, love."

With your fist still around his cock Butcher kisses you, forcefully, but not without a certain affection. It takes you aback, having assumed, through his relentless taunting, that he despises you.

Now you're not so sure.

"Get on your knees, Two-Time" Butcher says, softly, and although you wince at the moniker you lower yourself down with murmured assent.

"Yes, sir."

"Sir," Butcher repeats, and laughs. "Where did that even come from, eh?"

Still, you can tell he loves the submission in your voice, the fumbling quickness with which you scramble down onto the floor to take him. He's big, suffocating you with his girth as he rocks into your throat, one large hand coming to the back of your head to force you, struggling, against him.

You pull back, gasping a whooping breath.

"Please, Butcher..."

"Too rough for you, darlin'?"

You think he'll shove you back down again, but he pets your hair coarsely and leers.

"Look at them fucking puppy eyes. Can't say no to that, can I? There you go, then. Do the work yourself."

He releases you, allowing you to take his arousal at your own pace. You lap at his shaft, feeling stupid and unskilled and still so wanting of his praise. Yet you don't even need him to speak: every grunt and mutter and clash of his teeth feeds you with the knowing that he adores every second of the attention.

"Been thinking about doing this for months," he rasps. "I could have been fucking you all over the place, and I waited this long..."

Butcher tugs himself free of your throat on a stream of glittering drool and leers as you wait wordlessly for his command.

"I'm gonna fuck you silly," he says, "and when I'm finished you'll thank me for such a lovely time."

Then he barks, abruptly, "Oi! Where are you going?"

This added as you scramble up, towards the door, caught in a sudden crisis of conscience and common sense.

"We— we can't do this," you stammer. "I can't. Homelander—"

"He can go fuck himself," snaps Butcher. "You're mine, not his. He can fight me for you."

"He—"

"You gonna keep arguing with me, sunshine?"

You stand, one hand pressed to your slick mouth in horror of what you've allowed to go so far. All too easy to envision Homelander boiling your core to acid with a bolt of his stare, breaking your skull as simply as shattering a tea cup.

Butcher clearly reads these thoughts in your expression, for he says, in a slightly gentler tone, "He won't hurt you, alright? I won't let him. Trust the boss."

Unconvinced, you only dither, and the softness in Butcher skids away.

"You want this," he grinds out, "or you would've buggered off out of here already. Wouldn't ya?"

You hold your silence, shaking so violently that you catch a fragment of your tongue between your teeth and taste the salt tang of blood. In some sideways fashion Butcher is giving you the opportunity to flee, and yet you remain, shackled by your coward's yearning to appease him.

A shuddering breath escapes you, and Butcher twitches his head irritably.

"Say somethin', will you?" he grumbles.

His length is a stone in his fist, and you sense that he holds himself back from you only to preserve some unspoken rule, waiting for permission with the trembling violence of an attack dog, which, with a word, might be called down.

"I—" you start, and cough, your voice so thin that there is no substance to it.

Moistening your lips, you try again.

"I, uh, I want to follow orders, sir."

Butcher looks at you sideways, and you feel want roll off him with the heaviness of a dream.

"Well, it's your lucky day, darlin', 'cause I've got one for you. See that cabinet over there? I want you stood, facing it, your hands on the doors. No moving about, no noise; don't want them nosy cunts in the other room asking questions."

Nodding, you cross the room and stand as you've been asked, shuddering gently as Butcher steps up behind you, his hot breath upon your neck. You know, both of you, that this is a very bad decision, and proves nothing but that each of you are prey to individual weakness.

Butcher is so still that you wonder if it is he, now, that's changing his mind, but then one vast hand pushes at your back, thrusting you flat against against the cabinet with a tinny jingle.

"Get your fucking legs apart," he growls, and you almost slip in your rush to acquiesce. "That's it. Nice and wide."

His fingers rip at your clothes with a black bear's savagery, baring your skin to him, the space between your thighs he's thought about, before now, in derisive and idle lust. Again he pauses, only to thrust two broad fingers into your mouth. You dare not think of the likelihood of them being unclean.

"Get 'em wet for me," says Butcher, and presses his knuckles to your tongue until they come away dripping with spittle.

You hear him snarl a coarse breath as he blunts his fingers inside you, as taken up by your plaintive moans as with your tightness. His hardness is like a switchblade against your thigh, and you remember, acutely, that you fear this man as much as you desire him. He knows it; you feel the smugness of it in his rough kisses on your neck and mouth as he ruts against you.

One palm cups the back of your skull, flattening your cheek to the filing cabinet as, in a ragged motion, he enters your yearning heat. He's so big that you cry out, the wounded whimper of a trapped coyote.

"Keep it down, I said," Butcher reminds you, but you hear the grin in his voice, endure, through his rough strokes, the madness of his appetite.

And you— you're afloat in pleasure and submission, inebriated with it, like some God of drink and sex. Every curse and demand from Butcher lures another butterfly of sensation through you, and in the thicket of feeling you forget Homelander, forget that the man fucking you now is bad, and exploiting you for what you've so feebly offered up to him.

You've wanted, achingly, the freedom of being controlled, the pathetic thrill of degradation. The coarseness of it all is cheap, and filthy, and necessary.

Butcher twists you about so that your back is against the cabinet, your legs a knot about his waist. He juts his face close to yours, and with a start of terror you realise that you're looking him in the eye, unable to escape their directness.

"Tell me who fucking owns you," says Butcher, and his possession coils about you like a strangling weed. "Say it."

He still thrusts within you, but slowly, brutally, until you have to ball your fists to prevent yourself from grasping him for support.

"Start talking. Who do you fucking belong to?"

"You!" you blurt out, at last. "You, not him, not Homelander—"

Butcher's mouth crushes yours in a grappling kiss, and there is a desperation in it as well as conceit. The pitiful nature of it somehow only strengthens your arousal, and as his strokes resume their previous force you slip into a quick and stunning ecstasy.

Butcher's eyes glaze, and you think, again, of some stupid, brutish animal, spirit of athirst, wild and thoughtless. He comes so hard that, in a slip of teeth, he bites your lip, and that slip of authority awakens, in you, an endless wonder.

"Shit," mutters Butcher.

He lets you down from him almost gently, then turns away, scrubbing your blood from his chin. Suddenly he is all shifting agitation, but if he regrets what he's done then he does not show it, smoothing away his inner thoughts with bluster.

"Glad we could clear the air, Two-Time. You get yourself cleaned up, then go home and write up that report the way you should have done the first time. I want it back here tomorrow. No pissing about."

Stuffing yourself back into your clothes you make conversation with the floor again.

"No, sir. I mean, yes, I'll do that. Of course."

You touch your lip gingerly, and Butcher has enough reluctant grace to acknowledge it.

"Better put something on that, love. Don't wanna spoil that pretty little face."

The compliment—a mockery, but a compliment, still—flowers a dim flush across your features. Butcher reaches up to pinch your cheek playfully as he saunters past you on his way to the door, his thumb grazing your warmth.

"Night, then."

It's only when Butcher is gone and you're standing alone, loose-limbed and quaking with exertion, that you think of Homelander again.

Fuck. What is he going to do to you when he finds out what you've done?

#billy Butcher #ao3 writer #thenightsibling #dark fic #dark!fic #tw noncon #dubcon #dubious consent #cw dubious consent #billy butcher x reader #the boys fic #homelander

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zepskies · 10 months

Text

Break Me Down - Part 17

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

AN: *Gives you a box of virtual tissues.* Just in case. 😘

Word Count: 6,000 Tags/Warnings: Macho angst ahead, hurt/comfort, major, major fluff…

Part 17: More Than Words Can Say

Mount Sinai Hospital was one of the largest private hospitals in the city.

Fortunately, it was also the closest to Vought Tower, or what once had been the focal point of the superhero industry. It had been reduced to mere rubble and whatever dilapidated parts still stood.

All the news outlets were covering the tower’s collapse, and speculating on what could’ve created the blast that made the entire city tremble—not unlike last year’s incident, when Soldier Boy killed the most powerful supe in the world.

In the hospital, M.M. walked through the Emergency Department until he found Yvette and her son, Devon. They sat beside each other on a single cot, now joined by Yvette’s husband Chris while she signed her discharge papers. She’d gotten off with a minor concussion and a bandage over her temple.

“Just checking in on you guys,” M.M. said. Yvette smiled, but she asked about you.

“She’s in surgery,” he told her.

Yvette nodded, though tears welled up in her eyes. Chris rubbed her back and held his son’s shoulder.��

“Please call me with any news on her,” Yvette asked.

“You got it,” M.M. said.

“And please,” she said, holding her son. “Thank Soldier Boy for us.”

M.M. paused at that.

Seeing the family was well in hand, he returned to the trauma wing. There in the waiting room sat the whole team, minus Butcher, who’d been admitted to the hospital as well after the ED doctors didn’t like what they’d found on his lab reports. (But M.M. would look into that later. Hughie was with him now anyway.)

That left Frenchie, Kimiko, and Annie to wait for any news on you. Even Grace had arrived an hour ago.

But M.M.’s attention was drawn to the dusty motherfucker standing near the hallway.

Soldier Boy leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. The collar of his supe suit was undone to give his neck and chest some breathing room. He’d removed his gloves, and an empty gallon jug of water lied at his feet.

He was covered in a fine layer of soot and grime, though he’d since washed his hands and face to the best of his ability. He was also flanked by his two hired men, Frank Cardoza and Lorenzo Rivales.

Grace had run a quick background check on both, and as M.M. had learned, they were ex-Marines Soldier Boy had picked up in Colombia, while he was busy infiltrating a drug cartel.

Fucking figures, M.M. thought, shaking his head as he watched the man. Grace stood and joined him.

“He’s not just gonna fuck off back to South America,” he told her. “You realize that right?”

She considered that with a tilt of her head. “Let’s just see what happens here.”

As if right on cue, your surgeon made his way down the hall and over to the waiting group. Ben pushed off the wall and went to meet him, as did Grace, Annie, and M.M.

Annie and Ben eyed each other with mistrust and annoyance, respectively, but then he ignored her to regard the surgeon with a terse, expectant gaze.

The doctor was a graying man in his fifties. He seemed to internally brace himself before he spoke, glancing at Ben first before the others.

“We’ve repaired the damaged muscle around her right leg. The femur is broken. We also addressed the wound near her shoulder,” he said. “However, the rebar did nick her heart. She’ll need additional surgery to repair it.”

Ben sensed a but coming. He crossed his arms. “Okay, what’s the problem?”

The doctor gave a nod and a short sigh.

“She’s lost a lot of blood,” he explained. “We’ve given her a transfusion, of course, but she’s in a delicate state right now.”

“So why’re you wasting time? Do your fucking job,” Ben snapped. Grace shot him a glance, but addressed the doctor herself.

“What are her odds, doctor?” she asked. Ben eyed her with a glare. She ignored him for the time being.

“She needs this now. But, there is a chance she won’t make it out of surgery at this stage,” the surgeon replied. “The OR will be available in thirty minutes…so this would be the time to be with her, just in case she’s unable to get through this.”

“Excuse me?” Ben said.

His tone was dark and deep with grit, and the doctor stepped back. No one dared attempt to hold Ben back, but Grace quickly thanked the doctor and urged him to move forward with prepping you for surgery.

Loco shared a saddened look with Frank, who watched their boss with a deepening frown.

Annie turned to Ben with a measure of sympathy, hidden underneath her irritation at his attitude and her worry for you. You were still her friend, and she felt guilty for how cold she’d been treating you lately. And she could see, at the very least, that this man cared about you.

“Look, can you just calm down a bit? We’re all here hoping she pulls through,” Annie said.

M.M. stood behind her, silent, supportive. But Ben just ignored her, and everyone else for that matter.

He stalked down the hallway. And when he turned a corner, out of eyeshot, he growled and punched a hole deep into the closest wall.

Hughie perked up when Butcher finally started to rouse in his hospital bed. They had him on a hefty dose of morphine.

He blinked his weary eyes, his head rolling over on the pillow. His lips quirked when he noticed Hughie, who was glaring at him.

“Watching me sleep now?” Butcher remarked. “Pretty fuckin’ creepy, Hugh.”

“You’re such an asshole,” Hughie said.

That was something Butcher couldn’t refute. He nodded. “I see they told you.”

“When were you gonna say something?” Hughie said. “When you fucking dropped dead?”

“Probably not even then,” Butcher teased. But when he took in the younger man’s face, all he saw was his little brother, Lenny. Butcher sighed.

“Ain’t nothing any of us can do about it.”

“Fucking cancer?” Hughie said incredulously. “You could’ve gotten treatment.”

“Would’ve bought me a few more months, maybe,” Butcher admitted. That fell between them for a moment with stony silence.

“It’s all right,” he added. “I’ve had my fucking time. Got to see the life drain from that golden cunt’s eyes…got to let my girl rest easy.”

Hughie didn’t buy that. Or maybe, he just didn’t want to. His eyes burned, both with emotion and determination. He stood from his seat and set out to find Grace. If there was anything that could help Butcher, she would know.

While the others went down to the cafeteria for a bite to eat, Frank sat in the waiting room with Loco beside him and Dr. Baker’s briefcase on his lap.

He was sorting through its contents while Loco sat with crossed arms and slumping shoulders. He looked over at Frank’s stoic profile with a frown.

He was older, but not by much. They’d gone through one fresh hell after another together, and somehow, Frank always managed to pull their asses out of the wringer. It seemed Frank was trying to do the same for their boss.

It was funny, actually. Soldier Boy wasn’t their first contractor. You were their first kidnapping though. Neither he or Frank had felt good about it when Antonio brought you back to the mansion in Medellin, but they’d agreed to do a job. Guarding you became part of that job.

And yet, you had somehow reminded both Frank and Loco that they used to be respectable members of society. They used to have families, friends. They had once been soldiers. Good men. Maybe that was why they’d grown fond of you over the past few months.

And Frank…well, Loco knew the man had his reasons for wanting to be done with this work. Loco couldn’t blame him; he was feeling tired himself.

“Found anything good?” Loco asked in Spanish. Frank’s dark brows had drawn together in new interest.

“More than good,” he said. He looked up, but didn’t find Soldier Boy in the waiting room. “Where the hell did he go?”

Loco pointed to the reception desk. “Try asking someone.”

With a sharp sigh, Frank gave Loco the briefcase. “Guard that with your fucking life. Don’t let anyone from the CIA take it from you.”

Loco gave him a look of offense. “It’s like you don’t know me at all, bro. Fucking hurts.”

Rolling his eyes, Frank got up and went over to the reception desk.

“Excuse me,” he said. There seemed to be no one at the reception desk. Granted, it was late at night, and they technically weren’t supposed to be there. Grace Mallory had worked out an agreement with the hospital to allow them all to stay overnight.

He didn’t have to wait too long though, as an on-duty nurse came over with a clipboard in hand. Her red hair caught his eye, along with her pretty smile.

“Hi there. Can I help you?” she asked.

Frank faltered, just for a moment. But he cleared his throat and met her eyes.

“Did you happen to see which way Soldier Boy went?” he asked.

She gave him a wan smile and pointed down the hall, to the left. “That ‘a way. Think he had an argument with the wall over there.”

Frank followed her gaze and caught sight of the hole in the wall. He frowned.

“Sorry about that,” he said.

The nurse gave him a sideways look. “No worries, hun. It’s not your fisticuff outline in the wall, now is it?”

Once again, Frank didn’t know quite what to say to her slightly teasing smile. But he returned it, more reserved, but genuine.

“Thank you,” he said, with a nod. Then he remembered then what he needed to do.

And he took off brusquely down the hall.

It took him a few minutes to pull his head together, but Ben eventually worked up his nerve to go and see you.

You were still drugged out asleep, of course. He stood outside the large window of your private room in the Intensive Care Unit. He wouldn’t go in though. Part of him refused to believe it had gotten to this.

And the reality, that this was his fault. He’d caused the blast that destroyed the tower. His fault he hadn’t gotten to you sooner.

“You are the reason I needed saving,” you’d told him once.

You were right then, and it still held up now.

So, no…he wouldn’t go in there, into your room. The truth was, he couldn’t.

But Ben’s awareness prickled before he noticed, Frank had joined him. Ben tolerated it. While he wanted to be alone, maybe part of him (one he wouldn’t acknowledge) craved some kind of company.

“You’ll get paid, don’t you fucking worry,” he said dryly.

“That’s not the only reason I’m here,” Frank said.

It felt like a confession. Ben didn’t reply though; he was focused on your pale face, covered by the breathing mask. Shallow puffs of air fogged the inside of it while your heart monitor clipped on.

“There’s another solution here,” Frank said.

Ben gave him a cursory side glance. “She wouldn’t take Compound V. Not even to save her fucking life.”

“That didn’t stop you before,” Frank mentioned.

Ben didn’t answer, but he’d been internally debating it ever since he’d spoken with the surgeon.

“All right, get it over here,” he said. “The temporary stuff.”

Frank rose a brow. He’d been curious enough to try testing the man. But now, he frowned.

“She won’t forgive you,” he pointed out.

“What’re you, devil’s fucking advocate? She’ll get the fuck over it,” Ben snapped.

But after his initial anger subsided…he knew his subordinate was right.

“She’ll be alive to hate me,” he said, more honestly.

Frank inclined his head. “There could be another way.”

Ben glanced over at him.

“She lost a lot of blood,” Frank said. Ben frowned.

“They’ve given her fucking blood transfusions—”

“Yeah, normal blood. A supe’s blood is stronger. Yours could probably heal her,” Frank said. “But, the only one who can break your skin is you.”

Ben eyed him in suspicion. “Who told you that?”

“Read it somewhere,” Frank said evasively.

Ben huffed in response, but as that realization truly sunk into his mind, his lips pressed together in new determination. He left Frank to start a brusque pace down the hall.

He ignored the red-headed nurse calling at him at the reception desk when he shoved through a locked security door, into the OR unit. He searched until he found your surgeon and pulled him from the sink he was washing his hands in.

The man gasped with fright, though he tried to hide it looking up at Ben. “What the hell’re you doing?”

“I’m making a donation,” said Ben. He raised a blunt nail to his wrist. “You better hurry the fuck up, because I’m about to open a vein.”

It was morning by the time another doctor returned to deliver an update on your progress: the “treatment” was working. Your wounds had knitted closed within an hour following the blood transfusion, and you no longer needed surgery. They had also x-rayed your leg and found that the bone was whole once again. Even your broken ribs had healed.

Ben nodded at the news. He didn’t respond, and just started walking down the hall. Grace, Annie, and M.M. stared after him with mixed reactions of confusion and curiosity.

“Where are you going?” Annie asked. She was exhausted; all of them were.

The supe ignored her though. M.M. shared a look with her before he decided to follow the man.

Meanwhile, Ben once again stopped in the middle of the hallway when he was out of view. He took in a slow, steadying breath of relief, his fists clenching at his sides.

“Congratulations. After today, you’re gonna get your statue put back up,” M.M. said.

Ben turned around to stare back at the man, schooling his face into a stoic frown.

“Yvette and her son are going to be fine, by the way,” M.M. added, as he crossed his arms.

Ben paused slightly at that, filing that information away with secret satisfaction.

To M.M., he merely raised a brow. “You got something to say, or are you going to keep wasting my fucking time?”

“You think saving one black kid makes you a hero?” M.M. asked, point blank. “Taking down Vought. Saving her. What does that all mean to you?”

Ben frowned in irritation. “Why the fuck do you care?”

“Just answer the question. Be honest for once in your motherfuckin’ life,” M.M. said. “Do you really think you’re a hero?”

Silence fell between them.

Ben didn’t know what it was about this guy. Maybe it was his persistence, or the fact that he’d pulled you out of the rubble and got you to a hospital in time to save your life.

But Ben actually considered the question.

Killing Stan Edgar and Black Noir. Saving you. He’d done it all for selfish reasons. The kid…that was something else. His face stuck in Ben’s mind, how he’d trusted the superhero, like dumb kids were supposed to do.

But in that moment, carrying the tower on his back and knowing he was the only barrier between a mountain of hot rubble and this one kid…Ben hadn’t wanted to fail.

And still. You are the reason I needed saving…

It wasn’t really saving the fucking day if he started it, was it?

Ben’s lips turned on a humorless smile. Still, he had saved the kid. And his mom. And you. For now, that was enough.

“Looks like I am,” said Ben.

But he met M.M.’s stare, briefly allowing him to glimpse beyond a wall of arrogance and pride.

And Ben walked away. M.M. watched him go in silent contemplation.

Grace intercepted Ben before he could visit you in the ICU.

Christ. What the fuck now? he thought sourly.

She gestured for a word, and with an annoyed look, he followed her down the hall.

“I’ll get to the point,” she said. “Butcher is sharing a floor with your girlfriend, down in Oncology.”

Ben raised a brow. That prick had cancer? Par for the fucking course, if he said so himself.

“So?” he remarked.

Grace sighed. She’d expected that reaction. “They’ve given him weeks, but the way he’s been pushing himself, more likely it’s days. Taking the untested Temp V long-term has had its adverse side effects…if you were to make another blood donation, I’ll make it worth your while.”

So now his blood was some fucking wonder drug? Hell no, Ben thought.

“You’re asking me to save the guy who’s double-crossed me, tried to hunt me down, tried to end me?” he said, with a dark, incredulous chuckle. “You can fuck right off, sweetheart.”

She grated at the sweetheart remark, but Grace leveled him with steely blue eyes.

“If it weren’t for me, you’d be on ice right now,” she pointed out.

Ben’s lips pursed. He’d really like to snap this bitch’s fucking neck on principle…but then he thought about it. He could work this into his favor.

“You know what. I’m having a good day, so maybe I’m feeling fucking generous,” he said. His mouth edged into a smirk. “But I think it’s time we renegotiated our contract. Don’t you?”

Grace stared up at him, and she inhaled a deep breath.

“Fine.”

You slowly woke up in a hospital room, in a paper gown with an IV drip and a heart monitor. Which made sense, as the events of yesterday came back to you in a rush.

But beyond feeling relieved to be alive, you also felt extremely well-rested. You didn’t feel like a building fell on you.

What kind of masterful drugs are they giving me? You tried to read your chart on the wall, but you didn’t see any pain medication on there.

Annie popped into your private recovery room. Her face brightened when she saw that you were awake.

“Hey, hun! How do you feel?” she asked, lowering into a chair at your bedside. You wouldn’t know that this chair had been occupied by various members of the team over the past few hours, including M.M., Frenchie, Frank, and even Grace.

“Great, actually,” you replied. But now you frowned. “I shouldn’t feel great.”

You remembered nearly being crushed under a pile of rubble. You remembered falling on a piece of rebar, and unable to move your crushed leg. You remembered the worry in Ben’s eyes…

And panic stung at yours.

“Did they give me Compound V?” your voice shook when you asked. Annie calmed you down with a shake of her head and a reassuring hand on your arm.

The door to your room opened once again. Ben’s frame filled up the doorway. When his eyes met yours, your breath caught in your throat. He was still in his supe suit, and with his hands resting on his belt, he strutted inside the room.

M.M., Frenchie, Frank, Loco, and Kimiko came in behind him and at least looked showered. Ben looked like he hadn’t even done that much, nor slept all night.

“It wasn’t the V,” he said at last. “Just a little blood donation. Seemed to work like a charm.”

His resulting grin had a bit of charm in it as well. Your head tilted in confusion.

"Whose blood?" you asked.

"Mine," he said. His expression faded, slightly more serious.

You found yourself slowly smiling, though your brows still furrowed in surprise. He gave me his blood…instead of Compound V.

While you tried to wrap your mind around the gravity of that, you reached for the pitcher of water on the rolling tray beside you. You grasped the pitcher, but the plastic actually crunched in your hand. You gasped and moved your hand over so the water inside wouldn’t spill all over you.

Ben raised a brow.

The room fell silent as all eyes stared at you. When the water finished pouring out onto the floor, you gently set it back down on the tray.

“Seems you got some of his strength in the deal,” Annie remarked.

“Great, there’s two of them,” Hughie quipped with a grin.

“Well, that’s probably just temporary,” M.M. sighed. “Hopefully.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, and it brought a slight grin to Ben’s lips.

After a bit of well wishing, everyone cleared out of your room to let you rest up…except for Ben, Frank, and Loco.

“What are you guys going to do now?” you asked of the latter two. Loco cracked his knuckles.

“Got another job lined up in private security,” he revealed. “I’ve lost the taste for drug running. Nearly lost a damn toe on the last one.”

You laughed. “Well, thanks for doing one more job here.”

“Anything for el Capitán,” Loco said, giving Ben a respectful nod. “He pays exceedingly well.”

You raised a brow at Ben, who shrugged with a cocky grin. Smiling, you turned to Frank, who was sitting in the chair beside your bed.

“And you?” you asked. Frank gave you a rare smile.

“Going home,” he said. “To my daughter.”

Your eyes began to sting, but you tried to blink away the beginnings of tears. You nodded and squeezed his arm.

“Give her a big hug for me. And thank you again…for everything,” you said, even though you realized that thanking your former guard keep was strange. Still, there had been no part of your kidnapping that was normal in the least.

Frank hesitated, but he covered your hand with his.

Though he caught the way Ben’s face tightened, and Frank let go of you. He stood with Loco, giving you and Ben a final nod. Then the two men left your room and disappeared down the hall.

Part of you felt melancholy, like chapters of your life were closing. But you also felt like new ones were waiting in the wings.

Your gaze turned to Ben, who stood near your bed.

He was looking over your chart to see if the doctors needed anything else before you were discharged. But your soft voice called to him, earning his attention. You beckoned him closer.

He went over and sat down on the edge of your bed, laying a hand on your thigh. You reached out for his arm.

“Thank you,” you said.

Ben scoffed, though a hint of humor glinted in his eyes. “For what? Saving your reckless ass for the millionth time?”

“For saving Yvette and her son,” you replied with a smile. “And yeah, all that other stuff.”

Your hand slid down his arm and slipped into his hand. Your fingers curled around his palm.

“Really. Thank you…”

Tears welled up in your eyes again. You still couldn’t fucking believe he opened up one of his own veins and gave you his blood. He gave a public hospital his blood in order to save you.

He could’ve easily slipped you V24 again, or worse, the permanent stuff. But he didn’t just save you. He’d respected your wishes.

What you wanted to say next got stuck in your throat.

Ben had something hiding behind his eyes, like he was reluctant to show you his real emotions. But when he focused on your face, his hand tightened on yours. His jaw clenched, but he didn’t speak. He only let go of your hand to brush a falling tear from your cheek. His lips twitched at a smile.

“Come on now, baby doll. You’re tougher than that.”

You choked on a laugh as more of your tears slipped down your warming cheeks. “Nope. I’m actually not.”

“Hmm. Could’ve fooled me,” Ben said. You matched his grin with a beaming smile of your own.

Slowly, you pushed yourself up and took his dirty face in your hands. You guided him down to you, and you pressed your lips to his.

He allowed it with his usual demanding, fervent kiss. But then it slowed. He held your wrist to keep your hand in place on his cheek, and his thumb drew bath and forth over your skin.

You parted from him, pulling back enough to see his face. There was so much you wanted to say…but maybe right now, it was too much.

You met him with another tearful kiss.

Before you were officially discharged from the hospital, you had one more visitor.

Grace was once again there to debrief you. This time though, Ben sat at your side on the bed, a silent statue who regarded the woman coolly. He seemed to be tolerating her presence with more ease than usual, and you wondered why.

“You’re going on medical leave,” she informed you. “For three months, and then a psychiatrist will need to clear you for duty.”

Part of you wanted to argue, considering you were completely healed of your injuries. But you knew you needed a break from the S.A.—from all of this.

“Your mother and sister will be brought out of witness protection soon, after we determine that the threat is sufficiently neutralized,” she said. “You can return home today as well.”

You could finally go back to your apartment…though the thought didn’t call to you as much as it should have. You glanced over at Ben.

“Is this the part where you try to ship him back to Colombia?” you asked.

“That was the agreement,” Grace said wryly. You frowned, trying to blink away the tears forming once again in your eyes.

You didn’t want to lose him, but you also didn’t want to give up your life here. You didn’t want to leave the S.A., or your family, or your friends. Ben put you out of your misery, however.

“We renegotiated,” he said.

Your eyes widened. “What?”

Grace explained, “In exchange for his assistance in another case, he can stay in the U.S. on a trial basis. As long as he agrees to live within the law.”

You didn’t entirely trust Grace. Ben would be watched at every moment. That was a given, but considering he still didn’t have full control over his nuclear power, you were surprised Grace would allow him free roam within U.S. borders.

“And, provided, he agrees to a relocation. Preferably not in a densely populated area,” Grace added.

There it is, you frowned. You shared a look with him, and you could see he wasn’t entirely on board with this. You had no doubt he’d agreed to her demands by lying through his teeth.

You turned back to Grace.

“What if he becomes a contractor for Supe Affairs,” you proposed. “There may be some fallout after Vought’s collapse, and more of their records to go through. Other labs to clear out. Ben would be a lot of help, if he’s willing.”

You glanced at Ben again. He met your eyes, then Grace’s, and he nodded marginally. He was getting bored of the heat in South America anyway.

Grace heaved a sigh. Ben’s lips formed a smirk.

“Oh, relax. I just ended Vought. You’d be an idiot not to cash in on that PR,” he pointed out.

“Need I remind you that you caused the tower’s collapse?” Grace said tersely. “And you did not end Vought. There will be repercussions to this, believe me.”

Ben’s face tightened, but you grasped his hand.

“But he fulfilled the mission,” you said. “He took out Black Noir…and Stan Edgar in the process.”

“The idea was to arrest him, but I get your point,” Grace said. Her hand raised to cover her mouth as she thought about your proposal.

Eventually, she spoke. “If you can play by our rules, then we’ll contract with you. But until you get that atomic bomb under control, you can’t remain the city. Upstate is the best I can do.”

Ben chafed at being told what he couldn’t do. What the fuck was he going to do in Upstate New York? Slowly rot to death in dusty-ass suburbia?

You shot him a knowing look, raising a brow.

“It’s a fair offer, Ben,” you pointed out. His lips pursed in annoyance. But he glanced at your hand in his.

Then he looked up at Grace. “Fine. But first, unfreeze my fucking bank accounts.”

Ben later led you out of the hospital. There was a car waiting outside, and he got in to drive, despite you offering. He must’ve been going on very little sleep, if any over the past two days.

And of course, he’d refused to be seen at all medically, saying he was fine. You were still concerned about that destabilizing gun Black Noir had shot him with.

“I’m fine,” Ben had claimed. “Just need some sleep, that’s all.”

You watched his profile for a moment, and a smile started to raise your lips…until you finally remembered something that felt like a heavy stone in your stomach.

“Um…” you said, earning Ben’s attention. You looked up at him. “My father’s dead…”

Good fucking riddance, was Ben’s initial reaction. Followed by a frown, as he now realized he would never get the pleasure of choking the shit out of Jon himself.

Ben had been fucking livid to learn from Frank that you’d been left alone in the Tower with your father while it was coming down (and Ben was petty enough to dock that little slip up from Frank’s pay). Had that asshole lived, Ben wouldn’t have put it past him to try and take you with him after escaping the building. The mere thought grated on him.

“Black Noir killed him,” you said, heaving a shaky breath.

That cut through Ben’s thoughts. He glanced over, watching you fight some conflicting emotions.

“…Punched a hole straight through his chest,” you added.

Ben hummed in acknowledgement. You turned to him with a raised brow and glassy eyes. When he realized you were expecting a bit more from him, his lips pursed.

“Well, he got a quick death,” he said. “Better than he fucking deserved, far as I’m concerned.”

You sighed and leaned your head back on the head rest. Your eyes closed.

“Goddamn it, Ben.”

Ben eyed you with a deepening frown. “What the fuck do you expect me to say?”

“How about some decency?” you asked, as a tear fell down your cheek. “He tried to apologize. But I wouldn’t let him.”

He paused at that. While he thought you were being unreasonable, it begrudgingly dawned on him what you wanted, and maybe, what you needed. He sighed through his nose. Even now, you were a handful.

Ben reached over, taking your hand from your lap. He pressed the back of it to his lips, earning your mild surprise.

“That’s not your fault,” he said. And he briefly took his eyes off the road to look into yours. “None of it was. You understand me?”

Your face softened. Though you tried to blink away your tears, a few of them still fell. You wiped at them with your free hand, while the other squeezed around his fingers, resting against your thigh. Despite how you were fracturing inside, warmth still kept you afloat.

So you looked up at Ben, and you nodded. He seemed satisfied by your answer. He turned back fully to the road, but you kept a tight hold of his hand. He allowed it.

“We’ll have to go to the safe house to get our stuff,” you said eventually, with a small sniffle.

“No need,” Ben said. “That’s taken care of.”

That confused you. Was he taking you to your apartment then?

But instead, he drove you out of the city, and an hour upstate into Scarsdale. You’d never been there, but you knew it by reputation—as one of the most affluent towns in the state.

You were even more confused when he drove down a street flanked by tall hedges within a private community. He pulled into a circular driveway in front of an immense white house, with a red brick roof, colonial architecture, a manicured lawn, complete with matching fountains lining the front door.

Ben parked the car and encouraged you to get out with him. You followed him up to the front porch, expecting an old billionaire to pop out of the tall bushes at any moment to chase you away.

“What’re we doing here?” you asked. His hands fell to the belt of his supe suit as he surveyed the stood, the door, and the walls for anything amiss.

“I’m looking into buying it,” he revealed, as if he’d just told you, It’s pretty fucking sunny today, huh?

“Our stuff is ready to be shipped out when the deal closes with the owner,” he added.

Your eyes flew wide. “What? When did you have time to scope out houses?”

You’d only been discharged about an hour after the conversation with Grace.

“I had Frank look into some shit. He found this one,” Ben shrugged. “Could use some work, but not bad.”

Our stuff, you repeated in your mind. This house…was he trying to recreate what the two of you had in Medellin?

And more importantly, was this his way of asking you to move in with him?

Well, there’s not too much asking going on, you thought in annoyance. And yet, you blushed; the sentiment in itself was enough to warm you.

You brought Ben back down to Earth by grasping his hands, earning his attention from the old grout in the tile.

“Ben, this place is amazing,” you said. “But I don’t know if I’ll be comfortable living like this.”

He frowned down at you. “What the hell do you mean? You could have anything you want here. It’s safe. Got plenty of room—”

“A bit too much room,” you said, holding up your thumb and forefinger a couple inches apart.

He looked adorably grumpy. You smiled and squeezed his hand.

“Did you really feel cozy and at home in that mansion with fifty rooms and nobody in ‘em?” you asked.

He didn’t answer you, and he didn’t seem happy either. You didn’t want him to take this as a rejection.

“If we’re going to do this,” you said, “then can we start a little smaller? Somewhere that feels like home to both of us?”

Ben stared back at you in annoyance. “You need to broaden your palate.”

You just managed to stop yourself from laughing.

“You haven’t had a normal home in a long time, Ben,” you replied. Maybe ever, you realized. “How about you trust me?”

He gave you a dubious frown.

“What about this,” you tried. “Let’s pick it out together! If in a few months you still hate the new place, we’ll try it your way.”

“You’re assuming we’re gonna make it that long.” Ben was starting to wonder if this was going to work after all. The two of you were from very different worlds.

You offered a cheeky smile. “I’m optimistic.”

He huffed. “Sure.”

You reached up on your toes, and gripped the front of his suit when you leaned up to kiss him. His hands rose naturally to hold you, resting on your jean-clad hips. He followed your languid kiss, his furrowed brows relaxing when you touched his cheek.

When you broke from his lips, his eyes opened to find yours.

“I am, Ben,” you said more seriously. “I’m not playing games. This is real to me, and I want to be with you.”

But then you hesitated. You lowered back down to your feet.

“But if it’s not to you…if you’re just passing time with me, until you get bored,” you said, “tell me now. Please.”

It was Ben’s turn to hesitate. It was the please that got to him, along with your downturned gaze. He captured your chin between his fingers and raised your face up to him.

“I’m not fucking around,” he said. “I want you to live with me.”

Your smile was soft and bright when you took his hand. Ben wouldn’t admit it, but something in his chest stuttered to life then.

“Okay,” you said with a nod. “Let’s do it.”

AN: *squeals* It's happening! We've really gotten here, folks. How'd you like how it all wrapped up with Grace, M.M., and even Butcher?

But we're not quite there with these two yet...

Next Time:

“Why’re you nagging me like a goddamn wife?” he snapped.

“Wife?” you scoffed, crossing your arms. “You don’t even call me your girlfriend.”

But God forbid another man even smile in your direction. Ben was possessive, protective, and claimed with all but words that you were his. And yet, he wouldn’t say it.

You shouldn’t have been surprised that he was afraid of commitment, but you’d been living together for six damn months.

Keep reading: THE EPILOGUE

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