#soldier boy fic

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 14: You're All I'm Dreaming Of

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Soldier Boy POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter fourteen of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 5.8K

Warnings: References to sex, Mentions of sex (not really explicit), Self-detrimental thoughts, Cursing, Drinking/Snorting Drugs, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

Note: This is told from Soldier Boy's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

********************************************

Previously:

"Y/f/n Y/l/n?" The dark haired man asks, an accent tilting the ends of his words.

"Who's asking?"

He pulls out a badge, holding it up to the peep hole. "I'm Agent Butcher, this is Agent Campbell. We’re from the CIA, here to ask you a couple of questions about Soldier Boy."

You open the door to look at them. "The rapper?"

"What?" Agent Butcher looks confused.

"The rapper? Soulja Boy-" You arch a brow feigning confusion. "Because honestly I don't understand why the CIA would be asking me about that."

“No.” Agent Butcher holds up a photo.

You keep your face impassive. It’s a photo of Ben and you at a movie premiere the week before he left to go to Nicaragua.

“You’re here to talk to me about my mom?” You flit your eyes back to the two men standing in the doorway, easily slipping into the lie that you and Legend invented.

“Your mom?” Agent Campbell looks confused.

“Yeah. Indigo. Who did you think I meant?" You ask.

*******************************************

Present Day

*Soldier Boy POV*

The longer Ben sat in the motel room the more he thought of you. It wasn’t unusual. Ben was always thinking of you, even before he fucked everything up and before you two became supes, Ben rarely thought about anyone else. He hated that he did that, hated that you were always on his mind because he believed that he shouldn’t care about you as much as he did. Because why would you want someone like him? He was a fuck up before and after the serum and you deserved better. You always had deserved better.

When his cage had finally opened your name had been on his lips. He was ready to see you again, tell you how sorry he was, and how much he loved you. He hoped that it was you finally coming to take him away, but it wasn’t.

Y/n said she never wanted to see you again. Of course it wasn’t her.

He sighs and takes a bite of cheeseburger. His first one in 40 years, that the British fuck had gotten him, but it tastes like sandpaper, because he can't focus on anything but you.

"Well we know a few of your old team members are already dead." Butcher breezes pacing in the dingy motel room. "Countess, Gunpowder, Indigo-"

Ben reaches for his knife to grind up the oxy on the table in front of him, hoping that the pills will bring more relief than the whiskey.

It had been three days since he got out of Russia. Two since he visited Legend, when Legend told him that you were dead and Ben threw Legend's red armchair through the window of his apartment.

When Legend said it, Ben couldn't breathe, couldn't grasp that you were really gone. He didn't want to believe it.

You were all he thought the past 40 years, you were the only reason why he wanted to get the fuck out of Russia. He hated himself for what he had done, felt that he deserved the torture, but it was nothing compared to how he had tortured himself over the years.

The last thing he said to you often replayed in his mind and the way you looked when he said it burned against his eyes at night. He hadn't meant to hurt you, he didn't want to hurt you, never did. You were his oldest friend, the only person he knew that could be honest with him, call him out on all his shit, the only person who knew the real him, and the only person he could trust to be the voice of reason when he lost his temper.

And he threw you away like you meant nothing to him, when you were the only person who meant everything, the one person that he actually gave a fuck about.

Ben thought about your last night together often, remembered the dinner in the little restaurant when you wore a dress the color of his suit and looked more beautiful than he'd ever seen you as you danced to the song that always made him think of you. Remembered how he felt when he finally took you to bed, how each time you cried out his name it made him feel proud that it was him making you feel that way, that you wanted him as much as he had wanted you for so long.

Of course, then the memory of the next morning broke in his mind. When he woke up before you and held you closer than he'd held anyone else, slowly stroking your back and watching the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you slept and allowing himself to feel at peace. He couldn’t stop smiling in that moment because you genuinely wanted him to hold you close to him. When he woke up with you in his arms when you were children he feared that you wouldn’t want him to hold you, so he always pulled away, afraid of the rejection. He felt rejection from his father, but Ben knew that if you ever rejected him he wouldn't recover.

And then I rejected her, like a dumb fuck.

Ben was not a cuddler, he didn't think it was manly, but being there with you the morning after was different, and he believed he could have laid there for eternity listening to the soft beat of your heart where you rested against his chest and watch the gentle rise and fall of your body as you breathed. He had trailed his fingers along your spine as you laid on his chest, happy for the first time in his life.

When you told him that you loved him, he had been stunned. He remembered the soft blush of your cheeks and wide smile as you said it. He had wanted to say it back, to hear you say it once more, and to make love to you again while he said it- because he knew that’s what you had done together. He had fucked a lot of women, but that night with you was different, he cared how you felt, wanted it to be good for you, wanted to be everything you needed.

But the thought of you loving him scared him.

As much as it made him a pussy, Ben understood that it scared him.

You shouldn't love him because he didn't think that he could be what you wanted, that after all these years he couldn't be enough for you, and he believed that he shouldn't care for anyone as much as he did for you, because that meant weakness. That meant that every time you were on a mission together he would have to worry about you more than anything else. And Soldier Boy couldn't be weak.

So he pushed you away and ran to Countess. Ben's jaw tightens.

The psychotic bitch that sold me out. 

It had surprised him, how recently she had died. Butcher hadn't taken responsibility for it as he had for Gunpowder, which made Ben curious as to who had done it.

"Are you sure that Indigo is dead?" Ben asks taking another bite of the hamburger, but it still tastes like nothing.

He wondered if that was because you were gone and then wondered if he'd ever be able to taste anything ever again.

"What?" Hughie looks up from his bag of food. "Why would you think that?"

"Countess. Y/n hated her." Ben takes a swig from the bottle of whiskey on the table to try and dissipate some of the sadness he felt when he thought of you being gone. "Who told you that y/n was dead?"

"Her daughter." Hughie answers.

Ben freezes, his muscles tightening as a sickening feeling rises in the pit of his stomach. "She-she had a kid?" The thought made jealousy burn in his chest. Someone else had loved you, someone else had been man enough to say the thing that kept him up at night.

Of course she had a kid. She said she wanted a family. I was just too fucking stupid and couldn't admit that I wanted to give her that, to give her anything she wanted because I fucking love her. Did I really think she was going to wait for me? After everything I did to her? After everything I said? 

"Yeah-" Butcher shrugs. "Spitting image of her."

"She looks like her?" The thought of seeing you smile again makes something stir in his chest.

But it wouldn't be y/n. Ben reasons to himself. Because she’s gone.

His hand tightens on the bottle of whiskey and he’s surprised it doesn’t shatter in his hand as a wave of sadness comes over him. The memory of you and him at Fairmount Park, when you painted him briefly flashes across his mind and he allows himself to bask in your smile for a few fleeting moments before it’s gone. It makes him feel like he’d taken a knife to the chest at the thought that he’d never see it again and never hear you laugh.

"Yeah. Calls herself the same thing." Butcher continues.

"I want to meet her." Ben states taking one last drag of whiskey from the bottle.

"What?" Hughie chokes on his food.

Ben stands up. "I want to meet her. Where is she?"

"Oi, I don't think that's a good idea. She didn't really seem too keen on seeing you-"

"What do you mean?" Ben spits back, eyes narrowing.

Hughie shifts in his seat uncomfortably and Ben can hear Hughie's heartbeat quicken in fear.

"Don't be a pussy and just tell me." Ben snaps, becoming angry.

"She didn't want to talk too much about her mom. But she did mention how upset her mom was with you." Hughie states.

Ben felt the memories of the past creep up on him again.

Of course she was upset.

He remembered how broken you had looked the night you caught him and Countess. The look on your face forever sealed in his memory. He’d never seen you look so small. Honestly he was surprised that you hadn’t killed Countess that night. If he had walked in on anybody fucking you after the night you shared together, he knew that he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from killing them.

Because you were his.

He thinks about Howard briefly. Ben had almost killed him before you were supes when he called you his at the dance. It was also difficult to walk away when Howard hurt you.

Ben’s thoughts drift back to Countess. Her body had been burned beyond recognition, but her head was no longer attached. It would have taken an extreme amount of force for someone to do that.

Could she still be alive?

Ben thought about your ability. He was the only one who knew what it really was, that you didn't just come back from the dead, that your body was able to take the power of any supe that killed you. It made you incredibly indestructible, more invulnerable than him, even though he didn't want to admit that. He liked the thought that he was stronger than you because it meant that you needed him to protect you. He liked the thought that you needed him.

The day you both figured it out momentarily dances across his mind, making him tighten his jaw.

He remembered the sound of the gun and how you immediately pushed him out of the way to take the bullet for him, because you didn't know he was bulletproof and your gut reaction was to protect him.

Ben remembered how he held you when you took your last breath, watched the fear and pain in your eyes, mirrored in his own body at the thought of losing you, of trying to exist in a world where you weren't there. It was how he felt now.

Purposeless.

He remembered the broken feeling that rose in his chest when he heard your heart beat for the last time and how he begged internally for you to come back to him, because he didn't want to live if it meant losing you. He remembered gently brushing your hair back from your face as relief swelled in his chest when you came back and he clung to you like you had been gone a millennia. Of course after he had yelled at you for being so stupid, for putting yourself in that situation, tried to act like he didn't care as much as he did, but you'd only yelled back and refused to listen to him.

She was just so damn stubborn all the time.

"I don't care. I want to talk to her." Ben grabs the black leather coat that Butcher brought him and changes into a dark t-shirt and a pair of jeans. "Take me to her."

Butcher rolls his eyes. "Well, she did call the other day and say that she had some information for me." Butcher shrugs. "Let's go."

"But-" Hughie interjects.

"Oi Hughie. Calm down."

"She lost her mother. I don't think she wants any reminders of that."

"I promise I'll be gentle, cupcake." Ben rolls his eyes and pushes past Hughie to the door, the thought of seeing you again or just someone who shared your face enough to make him feel something for the first time in forty years.

***************************************************

"Oi, Y/n you in there." Butcher presses the call button on the outside wall of the brick apartment building.

Ben looks up and down the street, noting the people who are walking down the cracked sidewalks. It was weird to be back in New York, to be in a city that he lived in for so long and feel out of place. Hughie had tried to explain some things to him about the new century, but Ben was still confused, and honestly he didn’t care. The only thing he could focus on was you and the possibility of you living here.

Not you. He corrected. But maybe. He still didn't quite believe that you were dead, that you could die.

A minute passes and Ben is tired of waiting. He confidently walks up to the glass front door, and pulls with  enough of his superstrength to break the lock and open it.

"What are you doing?" Hughie whispers following behind him, but Ben ignores the question strutting straight to the stairwell.

"What floor?"

"8th." Butcher says.

When they finally reach your door Ben pauses. He's not sure if he can look you in the eye, not after all of these years, if it really is you. And if it wasn't then what? What would I say to her daughter?

The thought makes the fear that he refuses to acknowledge grip his chest, the fear that you were dead followed by the feeling of purposelessness that seemed to follow him since he heard the news.

If it is her daughter, maybe she’ll tell me if y/n suffered, if she died thinking that I hated her.

The memory of the fight stirs in his chest as Butcher knocks on the door and waits. But nobody answers.

"Must not be home." Hughie shrugs. "We could call her-" He begins to say, but Butcher deftly picks the lock and the door swings open into the darkness.

As soon as Butcher opens the front door of the apartment and Ben steps through, all he smells is you. It's enough to confirm in his heart that it is you and not your daughter. He felt something in his chest stutter to a halt as he inhales the familiar scent of lavender and lemons. It was everywhere, all around him, flooding his senses. 

And for the first time in forty years he felt comfort, at peace. For a moment all thoughts of revenge, rage, and justice fades from his mind and he is left with the memory of you.

Ben immediately is transported back to those quiet moments when he settled into bed next to you after climbing through your window. When you would fall asleep before him and curl against him subconsciously, your hair tickling his cheeks and sending the soft smell over him. The nights when he’d wrap his arm around you as soon as you fell asleep because he was afraid to do it when you were awake, afraid that you would reject him like so many others did. Those nights with you outweighed any other time in his life. He remembered that each time he crawled through your window you smiled up at him, were happy to see him, so different than the home he left behind, where his father wouldn't look at him.

He remembered the nights after you took Compound V, when even after a hard day when he was a dick, you still allowed him into your bed, allowed him to sleep next to you. Those quiet moments in the late hours of the morning when you cuddled into his side and muttered words in your sleep that he couldn’t understand all the while he brushed your hair back from your face stayed with him. As much as he refused to admit to anyone, refused to show any emotion, being there with you, felt more like home than anywhere else.

That's why he asked you to come with him in the first place. He couldn't leave you behind. Maybe that was selfish of him, but he would not pretend to be unselfish, not when it came to you.

He thinks about all the suitors that he scared away before him and you left Philadelphia, all his friends who expressed interest in you only to have him drive them away, and of course the one that wouldn't leave. The one that bought you jewelry and finally asked you to marry him, another reason why Ben convinced you to come with him.

The jealousy was familiar. Ben didn't want to leave you behind, the thought that some other man would possess you or love you made his chest hurt. You were his. No one felt the way about you that he did, never would. No one would know you, care about you or understand you like he did, and no one knew you as long as he did. And although Ben had trouble expressing it, he knew that he loved you, he hated himself for being unable to say it. He couldn’t decide if admitting that he loved you made him a pussy or it was his fear of telling you that made him one.

Ben looks around the apartment, noticing the artwork on the walls, the messy studio table, and smiles. He remembered the way you always had a sketchbook with you, he used to tease you about it,  but you would only roll your eyes at him and continue to draw. He loved watching you sketch, watching how focused you were as you created something so effortlessly. He remembered watching you paint with the watercolors he got you, feeling a swell of pride that he was the one who started that love. Ben had been afraid to give them to you, afraid that it was too thoughtful, but then he remembered how widely you smiled, how happy you had been.

The apartment felt like you.

And by now again he knows that it is you and perhaps that's worse, because now he has to face you and he doesn't know how to fix this, any of it.

You weren’t like him or anyone else. You didn’t bend under easy promises and gifts like the other women he had been with over the years. Your ability to read him and understand him meant that you were special. And you were. You were special to him.

He moves forward towards the darkened hallway.

"Hey wait-" He hears Hughie say behind him, but Ben ignores him.

Ben finds your bedroom easily and the smell grows when he opens the door. He takes in the controlled chaos of the room before his eyes fall on the suitcase on the large bed.

Where was she going?

Ben pulls your supe suit out of the bag and smiles at the memory of the day you first tried it on. You never wore anything form fitting, hid your shape under shirts and pants, but the day he saw you in this for the first time made his breath catch in his chest. He knew that you thought you were fat, but Ben never believed that. He loved every curve of your body, loved to trace them with his eyes when you weren’t looking  and when you finally let him take you to bed, his hands. Seeing you in the suit for the first time was almost enough to push him over the edge, but he kept it together.

He notices the plane ticket on the edge of the bed, beneath the bag, and he pulls out the printed piece of paper, reading the fine print.

She was going to Russia. She was going to come get me even after I-

The emotion that rises in Ben's chest is unfamiliar. He did not like giving in to emotions the same way others did because he believed that made him weak, a lesson his father had ingrained into his mind. But this time he doesn't attempt to push it down. The plane ticket crumples in his hand as his jaw clenches tight. A part of him was relieved, relieved to know that somewhere deep down you still cared about him, maybe that meant that you would be willing to see him.

But he still didn’t know how to fix this. He'd never been good with words or apologizing or, well, love in general. He’d never loved anyone before you. He frowns at the thought of all the meaningless flings he'd had in the past. There was only one relationship with a woman he'd ever been in, with you, and he'd fucked it all up.

He kneels and reaches under your bed, looking for the box he knows will be there. It's a dark rosewood, one from your bedroom when you were a kid, but now it holds a different value. Ben sits on the end of your bed and opens it.

He had caught you with it a few times, usually when you started drinking or on your birthday, always on your birthday. It's why he never let you stay at home, he made sure you came out with him, because your mind would drift when you were alone and Ben didn't like the dark places it took you.

Ben rarely liked leaving you alone. Whenever he was on movie shoots in another country he would call you just to hear your voice, and even when he went to bed with someone else and they fell asleep he would stay up thinking of you, wondering if you missed him as much as he missed you, and wondering if you could sleep without him because he couldn’t sleep without you. Another reason why he pushed you away, believing that it made him weak.

The photo on top is unfamiliar to him, it's newer, and shows you standing with a young brunette woman outside of a college dorm. He traces the lines of your face with his thumb. He hadn't seen a picture of you in forty years, but you were just as beautiful as he remembered. The one that follows is also unfamiliar, you holding a baby wrapped in a pink blanket, the baby’s hand wrapped around your index finger, and you looking down at it like it's your whole world.

The look in your eyes does something to him. He remembered when you looked at him like that, the morning when you woke up next to him and whispered those four little words to him that he always wanted to hear while holding his face tenderly between your palms, "I love you Ben."

When things got bad in Russia he would strain to remember the memory, remember the way you looked at him, the way the words sounded falling from your lips. The words that he always wanted to hear you say. The morning that he wished he could change and the disastrous night he wished never happened.

"We shouldn't be here." Hughie says to Butcher in the living room.

"She ain't home. We'll go when he wants to leave." Ben hears Butcher respond.

But Ben knew that he didn't want to leave, wouldn't want to leave. He had spent the past forty years away from you and he didn't want to spend anymore time apart from you, even if that made him a pussy, he didn't care.

"This isn't a good idea. Y/n didn't want him here-" Hughie tries again

"Oi, look at this. She's looking at flights." Butcher states, when he notices the laptop on the counter.

"What?" Hughie asks.

"If it ain't her, how would she know about Russia?" Butcher says back. Ben hears a rustling like Butcher is going through the trashcan “And take a look at this-“

Ben shuts out their conversation and pulls other photos out, finally pulling out strip of paper from a Photo Booth. It was the day he took you to a baseball game,  before you were supes. You’d never been to one before and Ben had only been to the one his father took him to, when his dad got drunk and forgot Ben was with him. Ben frowns for a second but then looks back at the collection of photos on the strip. It was a good day. He had bought you a ridiculous hat, and you'd sat next to him looking radiant in the sunlight like you always did sketching him. Ben loved it when you drew him, it made him happy to know that when you looked through the pages of your sketchbook later that you were thinking of him. He often wondered if you thought of him as much as he thought of you. You'd both gotten drunk on cheap beer and when a woman yelled at you for being unladylike you flipped her the bird and said some choice words that made the tips of the woman’s ears turn pink.

Ben loved that about you, that you never seemed to care what others thought of you, especially your friendship with him. Everyone you knew had told you to keep a wide berth from him, but you didn’t listen.

Ben traces your young face in the photo with his fingertip.

Maybe she should have.

He turns back and pulls out a yellowed photo of you and your mother. Ben frowns at the expression on your face. You were never happy when she was around. He hated your mother, not just because she hated him, but he hated what she did to you. He hated that she made you feel ugly, when you were the most beautiful woman that he'd ever seen. Even as teenagers, Ben couldn’t help but notice how pretty your figure was and how you filled out the soft dresses you wore when you went with him on adventures through the city. He never thought you were too fat, if anything he liked your curves. The night you were finally together he worshipped them, wanted you to know that you were beautiful, to understand that he saw your beauty, because he knew that you still thought about what your mother said to you. He hated that she had such a hold on your life even though she had been dead for so long.

He hears a rattle along the bottom of the box and when he picks up the source of the noise he immediately wishes he hadn't.  It's a single pearl, and Ben understands what it's from. It's from the necklace he bought you for your birthday, the one that you ripped off your neck when you found him with Countess. He had agonized over whether or not to get it for you, thought that maybe it was too thoughtful or rather was too romantic. But the look on your face when you opened the box made him feel like he’d swallowed the sun.

Ben's teeth clench together as a wave of guilt crashes over him remembering what he yelled at you, remembering what he did to you. He thought that it had been what he needed to do, that he needed to push you away because he didn't want to care about anyone else, at least not the way he cared about you.

He hadn’t thought it would hurt as much to say those things to you, but it had all but ripped his own heart out.

But even before you found them together all Ben felt was guilt. He wasn’t enjoying anything he was doing to Countess, all he wanted was to do those things with you. He thought it was necessary, that by doing those things with her he could somehow clear his head of you, but all it did was make him feel guilty and want you more.

He thinks about the days that followed before his mission in Nicaragua, when he agonized over calling you, over showing up to your apartment, but he couldn't. He couldn't face you.  He hadn't been able to sleep those nights before the mission and wanted desperately for you to be there with him.  Ben couldn't sleep when you weren’t with him. He hated that he'd finally gotten you and then lost you so quickly.

Ben notices a velvet box, and he sighs when he opens it. It's an engagement ring, the engagement ring that you showed him the night he asked you to come with him.

He briefly wonders if you thought that was his version of a proposal. That you believed, turning your back on your family and coming with him meant more.

I’m such a fucking idiot. I should’ve-

“It really is a shitty ring.” He mutters. And it was, it was all wrong for you. Ben knew what you liked and he couldn’t believe that this was what that asshole got you.

Why did she keep it? Because she wanted to remember what her life could have been like if I didn’t ask her to come?

Ben remembers when he asked you if he ruined your life, before everything exploded. He imagined that after that night you changed your answer, because how could you look at him, let alone want to be around him after what he did to you?

Ben examines the ring again allowing the memory of the night you showed it to him push its way into his mind. He remembered being scared, of course he’d never admit that, he wasn’t a pussy, but he acutely remembered the moment you showed it to him. The fear of losing you that struck him when he noticed it on your finger, as the weight of what it represented settled on his shoulders. He knew that the asshole who proposed would quickly turn you against him, and this time you’d believe it because you loved that dick or-

Ben reconsidered. She didn’t love him because she came with you. She loved you.

He remembers again what it was like to be with you in  bed, when you whispered those words so tenderly to him and is struck with guilt all over again.

You had looked almost sheepish when you showed me the ring, like you were afraid to tell me-

Of course she was afraid to tell you. She wanted you to propose but you didn’t instead you fucking ruined her life and strung her along for 40 fucking years-

He never understood how you did that. Survived all those years with him while he fucked his way through everything that crossed his path. How you continued to stand by him when he was a dick to you and so many others. And yet you never let any other man into your life.

He remembers the night after you got between him and Noir, remembers asking you if you wanted to marry Howard, but you said no. The other things you said struck something within him. When you said you wanted someone to come home to, someone who would love you, a family. He remembers how you looked the night of your birthday in the restaurant, how you watched the couples around your table and smiled. He knew what you were thinking, and he had tried to show you that he could be that for you by taking your hand where it rested on the table even though it went against every instinct he had. He wanted so badly to give you those things, to make you happy. Ben didn’t want you to find that with anyone else. He would have loved to have a family with you, to be with you always the way you were always there for him, or were until he fucked it all up. He remembers asking you to marry him, apart of it had been a joke, just to gauge your reaction, but deep down he was curious. He hadn't expected it to hurt so much when you laughed him off.

Ben sighs. When you spoke about leaving Payback he was worried, worried that it meant you would leave him too and then who would he have? No one. It’s why he spent so many nights in your bed, with you curled up beside him. He didn’t want to be anywhere else.

He shuts the ring box with a snap and throws it back inside. The memory of the night you spent together is just on the edge begging to be let in. Ben indulged in that memory many times over the years, letting it strengthen him. Remembered every detail. It was the first time that he actually cared what someone else wanted in bed. He remembered how your cheeks blushed when you told him that you’d never had sex before and how you said that you wanted it to be him. He never imagined that you would want him the same way that he’d wanted you all those years.The exact reason why he drowned himself in so many other women, because he thought that’s what he needed to do. Because you deserved someone better than him, you always had.

The thought is immediately followed by what he yelled at you in the bathroom at the premiere, when he turned something that you believed to be special, one of the happiest nights of his life, into a cheap fuck.

He remembered the broken expression on your face. He'd never seen you look so small. Ben always admired how strong you were, but as soon as he said those things to you, he watched you crumble when he broke your heart.

Worse still was when he grabbed you. He fights the shudder, remembering how he grabbed onto your arms. As many times as you’d stood between him and the source of his anger, he’d never laid a hand on you but that night, he was just so damn frustrated. You were looking at him with those big eyes of yours that always saw through him, understood him, and he was frustrated because he wanted to tell you that he loved you that he always had loved you but he couldn’t. He couldn’t admit it because he was a man and damn it a man didn’t show emotions and he was Soldier Boy he didn’t need anyone-

His jaw clenches together so tight that he hears the click of his teeth.

But he did. He knew that all he needed was you.

I’m such a fucking asshole. Y/n doesn’t need me and I don’t deserve her-

Ben raises his head to look at your bedroom door as he hears the front door of your apartment swing open. And he freezes.

Because why would you want to see him? He had ruined your life.

***************************************

A/N: Alright everybody we made it to the chapter right before the reunion!!! What will happen? Will she forgive him? Who knows?! Even me, honestly. 😂

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#soldier boy x you #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy x female reader #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy #soldier boy/ben #the boys #jensen ackles #soldier boy fic #billy butcher #the boys amazon #hughie campbell #the boys fanfic #jackles #the boys season 3 #the boys series #the boys tv #the boys s3

[syrma-sensei]

→ Hot Under The Helmet.

gif credit

pairing: soldier boy/ben x wife!reader.

rating: explicit.

warning: ben's pov, horny and angry ben, dom/sub undertones, aggressive sex, piv, fingering, oral (female receiving), breeding kink, glove kink, eventual fluff, antiquated mentality...

word count: 2.2k

summary: fucking his wife is the best way to ease his mind.

taglist: @zepskies, @deansbbyx, @kaleldobrev, @k-slla, @deanbrainrotwritings, @deans-spinster-witch, @homosexualferret...

→ masterlist | ao3

Soldier Boy didn't head back to his quarters in Vought's tower when the damned mission was over. He didn't want to spend another minute with his pathetic excuse of a fucking team nor did he want to be in the tower. He scoffed. A bunch of fucking clowns in a fucking circus. Sometimes he wondered if Vought picked them on purpose for the sake of insulting him and his legacy.

Instead, Soldier Boy made his way straight back home. He'd been on duty for a couple of weeks, accompanied with his teammates and other government soldiers as a backup to their mission — not that he needed either but protocols and marketing and Vought's bullshit.

Long story short, and as expected, The Twins fucked up, Noir tried to be the hero of the day, Swatto a fucking idiot, Mind Storm and Gunpowder fucking useless, Countess a fucking bitch. He had to handle it all by himself and fix everything his teammates dicked with. And he was pissed. Fuming. Raging. All he was seeing was red. And he could do nothing about it.

When Vought promised him a team to lead, he expected to have seasoned soldiers who knew how shit was done. Warriors who respected the missions and honoured their duty and privileged their country. Instead, he got fucking spoiled children to babysit. He wasn't in charge. The irony. His fucking helmet of forty years of dedication and service for this country granted him no say at the matter. It was fine, he'd tried to convince himself. He took it upon himself to train them and mould them into formidable soldiers like he was but to no avail. The fucking idiots thought the job was only to wave their hands and pose for fucking cameras at movie premieres!

Soldier Boy grumbled when he stepped inside one of his many properties. The one he shared with his wife. Their penthouse; their home. His pretty, little wife. He let a small smile slip into his lips when a mix of aromatic whiffs permeated his nostrils, his superhuman sense of smell enhanced the savoury scent. His stomach grumbled. Fuck did he really miss his wife's delicious cooking. Suddenly, his fury began to cease. Soldier Boy clicked his helmet off of his head absent-mindedly and set his shield aside before his lips quirked into a wicked grin.

It'd been a fucking fortnight since he saw her. Touched her. Fucked her. He was surrounded by dicks for far too long, and he craved pussy. Her pussy. He was consumed by the urge of destroying her cunt. And she'd love it. She'd always had. She liked it rough. She liked him ruining her, and leaving her unable to sit right for days. And she even dared to chide him when he went easy on her at the beginning of their relationship.

“I'm not fucking fragile, Ben. Don't you hold back.” She'd told him.

He smirked. She had no idea what he had in store for her tonight.

With many many years of experience under his belt, Soldier Boy stealthed his way to the kitchen where his wife was swaying her hips and humming a song as she bent over to check on the ribs she was roasting in the oven. Ben smiled proudly. He never let her do that job. The grilling. It was a man's job, the husband's job. So, to accommodate his wishes, she came up with this idea. To cook that kinda food in other ways. And being the expert cook she was, she did it extraordinarily.

His dulled eyes came to life with a lick of lust swirling within the green of his eyes when he traced the curve of her perfect ass. Fuck, his trousers began to feel too tight to his liking. Little did she know that she had a stirred brute standing behind her, waiting for the right moment to pounce on his prey.

Turning on her heels gracefully, a surprised gasp escaped her throat when her dilated eyes landed on her beloved husband. He was still in his supe gear except for his helmet and shield.

“Ben!” She trilled with a big smile, trying to balance herself from the surprise; he was hours early, “Welcome back, honey! Didn't think you'd be early—”

He cut her off with a burning kiss. Hungry and possessive. How he could cross the kitchen to her in such agility was still behind her. He smelled like earth and dust, blood and sweat. He smelled like a man should. Like a soldier should. Her core throbbed at his virile odour. His stubble grew bigger, and she liked how it brushed coarsely against her palms when she cupped his cheeks to kiss him back. She giggled against his mouth when his strong hands grasped her waist and lifted her up effortlessly and sat her at the countertop.

She clung to his neck, their kiss nourishing with vigour. His lips left hers temporarily to loosen her apron and toss it aside, then he removed her blouse and unclasped her bra. Ben crushed her lips again, his rough-padded hands kneading her tits, thumbs aggressively flicking her hardening nipples. His thumbnails grazing crescents on her darkening areolas. Ben's lips split mischievously when she let a wanton moan. His grin widened when the smell of her arousal reached his nose. Fuck. He loved it. He could already taste that on his tongue.

“Fuck, Ben!” She groaned when one of his hands trailed down to her shorts and slipped beneath her panties. He smirked when she instantly smeared his fingertips wet with her arousal. He let his gloves on; he knew she loved it when his gloved fingers fucked her relentlessly. She liked it when they were knuckles-deep inside of her, with the rims of his fingerless gloves grazing her clit. The little slut. She also liked when he fucked her in his supe suit. She took pleasure in submitting to his power. To him. He was a man worth submitting to after all, and he'd earned hers.

“Hmh, those fourteen days were rough on you, weren't they, baby girl?” He mocked, thick fingers spreading her folds open roughly. He loved to tease her and turn her into a mess. He relished in it.

She nodded hastily. It took a measured press of his thumb on her clit to turn her into putty in his hand. “Use your words, baby.”

“Y-Yes, Sir,” She whined, legs parting wider for him, “They were brutal.” She sobbed, burying her face in his powerful neck when he twisted his finger just right, her ankle snapped. He added another finger and she mewled.

“Ben, Ben! Sir, please!” She shrieked in delight, hands clutching at his gear. She gushed on his fingers and he fucked her through her high. He felt the tremble of legs. He was going to force another one from her. She should have asked for permission. She wasn't in control. He was.

She gasped when he didn't stop, “Ben, please don't—!” She squeezed her thighs shut, an attempt to cease the searing pleasure between her legs. His fingers were raw against her flesh. It brought tears to her eyes.

“Now you want me to stop?” He sneered with a drawl, curling a finger inside, her walls tightened in response. “Your pretty pussy doesn't.”

Her teeth sank into her lower lip, before she gazed up at him through half-hooded eyes, moaning, “Don't stop!”

Fuck, that shouldn't have surprised him. But it did. Fuck. She was really a slut. His pretty slut. She was practically inviting him to break her. Oh, he would. Deliciously so.

She squealed when he coaxed another orgasm from her. Begging him to fuck her more like a bitch in a heat.

“Holy fuck, baby, your pussy is squeezing my fingers tight!” He chuckled maliciously as he curled his knuckles again then pulled out.

With pearlescent tears adorning her eyes, she took his thumb into her mouth when he pressed it to her lips. Fuck, the way she twirled her tongue around his digit made him half-tempted to fuck her throat. He could do that later. Now, all he wanted was to fuck that needy, slutty pussy raw.

Ben shifted her up and flipped her on her stomach, her hot breasts squeezing against the cold marble. Shoving her shorts and panties down, he took in the sight of her ruined pussy. She was soaking, her arousal oozed from her opening down to her thighs in small rivulets. Unabashedly inviting him to feast on it. And how could he reject such an invitation? In a moment, he was on his knees, mouth wrapped around her slit, sipping from the sweet honey she had to offer. Seemed the act surprised her as she jerked in stupor with a squawk.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Her knuckles went white when she grabbed on the edges of the countertop as he ate her out like a man starved.

The new gruff hairs on his face burned deliciously against her skin as his tongue flicked assiduously against her swollen clit. He lapped her heat with a flattened tongue before invading her sensitive drawers, slurping her through the mess of her dew and his spit.

“Ben…I'm cumming again!” She tried to utter, but all that came out of her mouth was a broken whisper.

Smirking again, he unbridled the wonders his tongue could do, and she was undone again; his soddend beard was a proof of what he could do to her.

He licked her clean, and her overstimulated cunt shivered every time his tongue made contact with her flesh. She was trying to catch her breath up there, but he couldn't let her. He wasn't done with her yet. He had yet to be satisfied.

He heard her hum as she turned her face to make eye contact with him. A satiated look in her eyes as she smiled weakly at him.

“Ain't fair tho,” She croaked playfully.

He raised an eyebrow, “Hmm?”

Supporting herself with her arms, she managed to turn her body to face him, eyes immediately perching on the conspicuous bulge between his legs before her teeth dragged her lower lip inside her mouth.

“I'm naked, you're not.” Her hands trailed from his chest down to his zipper.

“Thought you liked me fucking you in this shit.” He drawled thickly as her nimble fingers undid his pants and freed his cock.

“God, you're so hard,” She giggled gleefully, “I do,” Her eyes flitted up to his face, “I like what kinda authority this suit holds. It's like fucking a god.”

His dick twitched painfully at her words. She was so good at this. He liked that about her. How she could tickle and caress his massive ego so easily. How good she made him feel so damn good about himself though he'd never admit that out loud. A god she wanted to fuck, then a god she would fuck.

His large hand roughly seized her jaws, her yelp was swallowed by his mouth. His dick was too eager to feel the warmth and wetness of her cunt as he plunged it inside of her.

“Oh, God!” She sang, her arms encircling his neck as he snapped his hips into her. Her hands fisted his short hair.

“No god, only me.” He groaned.

She cried his name as he bottomed out, he was fucking every ounce of anger out of his system on her. And she liked it. Her walls sucked him deeply, wanting more, and more he gave her.

He grumbled, “Gonna put a baby in you.” He wasn't asking. He was telling.

“Yes, Yes! Please make me a mommy!” Pride sprouted in his chest, and the immense feeling bolted down his spine and made his cock spring his load into her.

He didn't pull out right away, he waited for a few minutes. He didn't want his seed to spill out of her as much as appealing that would be to watch.

“You okay?” He asked her with concern.

“A bit thirsty, but I'm aces,” She blinked, sighing dreamily, “That was fucking sexy by the way.

He chuckled amusedly, reaching for the pot of water next to them and pouring her a glass, “The part you called me a god?”

She rolled her eyes as she gobbled down the water.

He arched his brow before whispering into her ear, “Roll your eyes at me like that again and I won't be letting you cum for a month.”

She choked on the water and he laughed deeply at her reddened face.

Suddenly, he became aware of the burning smell coming from the oven. She picked up on him sniffing and they looked at each other and say in unison, “The ribs!”

Her quiver didn't go unnoticed when he pulled out of her to let her check on the food cooking in the oven while he adjusted his clothes. He appreciated her nakedness in the kitchen, maybe he should ask her to wear nothing but an apron when she cooked. She'd look fucking sexy. His cock twitched at the idea.

His wife groaned in disappointment when she saw the ribs.

“Is it bad?” He asked, crouching next to her.

“It's way crispier than I intended.” A hand pressed to her forehead.

“I can handle crispier.”

“But, Ben, I wanted it to be perfect for you,” She whimpered and he smiled, “I know how much you like it.”

“Well, in your defence, happened when you were pretty busy serving me desserts before the main dish,” He winked.

She shook her head with a smile, “Y'know, you're surprisingly cheeky sometimes.”

“With you, I am.”

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #the boys #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy imagine #soldier boy smut #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy #soldier boy fic #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy the boys #soldier boy/ben x reader #the boys amazon #the boys smut

[tom-whore-dleston]

Side Effects of Soldier Boy

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x f. reader

Word Count: 391

This fic contains: smut, literally PWP, drug use, unprotected sex, dirty talk, swearing, degradation, Soldier Boy doesn't pull out

Summary: Soldier Boy tries to keep you quiet during sex.

Notes: Wake up babes, Jordan discovered a new hottie to write about lmaoo Anyways, I know Soldier Boy is a walking red flag but unfortunately, I see the world through rose colored glasses hadshghsdl This is another submission for @flashfictionfridayofficial's prompt no. 239: Seal it Tight. Lowkey, I've been on a role with these quick fics, I don't want it to stop.

Sex with Soldier Boy was addicting. You would say it was more addicting than the cocaine that coursed your system. The blow was essentially the gateway drug to Ben.

The side effects: uncontrolled moans and orgasms that made your soul leave your body.

The two of you found yourselves in a rundown motel room, where Ben plowed you into the mattress at superhuman speed. His strong hand clasped over your mouth, in hopes to seal your cries of pleasure from the outside world. Considering how cocky of a bastard he is, it was bold of him to assume that simply covering your mouth would keep you quiet.

“Mmm, baby, those moans are so pretty, but so loud.” The supe grunted through clenched teeth. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as Ben’s pulsing cock stretched your walls. You gushed around him, causing each thrust to echo through the dainty room.

“God damn, even this pussy is loud,” Soldier Boy chuckled, making you throb. “Think you want the neighbors to hear me fuck the shit out of you, huh?” 

His dirty talk was no help to hushing your moans. Yet, it did push you closer to that sweet release you craved. With Ben being the instigator he is, he knew damn well what he was doing. 

The pit in your stomach was growing and it was only a matter of time before it exploded. You pumped your hips up to meet his and he took this as a signal to deepen his strokes until his balls slapped your ass. You were one step away from the edge when Ben removed his hand from your mouth to throw both of your legs over his shoulders.

“Fuck it, let the neighbors hear you. Let ‘em know how much of a slut you are for me.”

That euphoric bliss finally washed over you like a crisp ocean wave. You could have drowned under the wave but a kiss from Ben brought you back to shore. The handsome supe slammed into you one last time before filling you with his seed. He crashed onto the empty side of the bed, fingers lazily tangling between yours. The two of you laid there, staring at the cracked ceiling while catching your breaths. Just as you were coming down your high, you already itched for another hit.

Navigation | Fanfic Masterlist | Soldier Boy Masterlist

header credit: @saradika | divider credit: @firefly-in-darkness

#flash fiction friday #fff239 #soldier boy #the boys #the boys series #jensen ackles #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy smut #soldier boy fic #soldier boy fan fic #soldier boy imagine #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x female!reader #jensen ackles fic #jensen ackles fanfiction #the boys fanfic #the boys fic

[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+

“And what is Noir’s girl doin’ out here?” SOLDIER BOY questions, grabbing your attention from behind you. With a condescending and chastising raise of his brows, he dips his chin to lower his voice. “Didn’t’cha hear it ain’t safe?”

You steel yourself against his intimidation tactics. You’ve never known Ben to be easy going, especially from Black Noir’s perspective. You swallow, and stand up a little straighter. “I can take care of myself.” As you talk, he saunters closer.

“Oh, I’m sure you can, princess.” he replies, but you’re unconvinced of his conviction, taking a wary and minute step back. Your tongue darts out to moisten your lips, and he notes it with his mesmerizing eyes. The kind of green you get lost in. You know he’s no good, that he’s probably a piece of shit, but you can’t help it. The heart in your chest threatens to bang right out of it, and not because you’re scared of danger. You’re scared of what you might do. He’s allowed to approach you, and he doesn’t stop until he’s right in front of you. Two tender fingers raise to your temple, and you eye them cautiously. He doesn’t care about your trepidation, brushing a lock of your hair behind your ear, and tracing your jawline to flick your chin up. He inclines in to ask you in a low whisper, “Wanna show me?”

You never imagined you’d get fucked in the barracks. If you did, it would’ve been with Noir—

“Don’t think about him, you look at me.” Soldier Boy orders, and you fucking listen. Your eyes glazed over from guilt towards a now ex-lover sharpen from his demand, honing in on him as he sinks into you over and over. You’re nothing to him, light in his hands, picked up and propped up against some boxes of equipment while he’s lodging his cock all up in your insides. “Yeah, yeah,” he commends, a grin breaking out onto his face. One of pride. “That’s right. That’s a good girl. Yeah, you look at me when I fuck you.” For good measure, to keep your focus where it should be, he shows you he can hold you up with an arm, and takes the other hand to grasp your jaw. He pins the back of your head, and your brows upturn, panting through your nose. “Yeah, you want what I’ve got, don’t’cha? Noir can’t give to you this good, ah? Say it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut for a second, fighting off your impending orgasm while supe-cock bruises your cervix. The hem of his suit brushes past your clit in a delicious sting, you don’t know how much more you can take before you burst.

“Ah, ah.” he chides, jostling you by his harsh grip on your chin. “Lemme see them eyes.” You obey, peeling them open one by one as pleasure weighs them down. “Yeah, princess, let me see those pretty eyes.” His glove digs into the flesh of your thigh, you can tell he’s getting close, hips stuttering. “Now, tell me what I wanna hear. You wanna finish all over this cock? Tell me your little boyfriend can’t fuck his bitch like I can.”

#tw infidelity #indy: drabbles #ch: ben #soldier boy drabble #soldier boy smut #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy imagine #soldier boy fic #soldier boy fanfiction #the boys smut #the boys x reader #the boys x you #the boys x y/n #the boys imagine #the boys fic #the boys fanfic #reader insert

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

Trust

main masterlist | the boys masterlist

summary: soldier boy doesn’t realize just how scared of him you truly are

pairing: soldier boy x female reader

rating: R for language, mature themes

word count: 5.2k

warnings: please read! language, mentions of sexual assault, attempted sexual assault, drugging, violence, forced purging (to prevent possible death), briefly mentioned nudity (not in a smutty way), much darker than anything i’ve published before

author’s note: this started out as a small idea but i got really carried away lol.

another note: sorry for kinda ghosting after uploading the last fic, my brain hates me 🙃 i can’t promise i won’t “disappear” again like immediately after uploading this so thank you in advance for any/all feedback/comments 💞💞

It was late at night (more like early morning) when you were arguing with Butcher at the door. 

“Don’t you dare leave me here alone with him!” you seethed.

“C’mon, love, the old cunt’s gonna be asleep the whole time I’m gone.”

Your teeth clenched at the idea of being alone in the house with Soldier Boy, but if Billy didn’t go now to “run an errand” he’d probably have to go later that day anyway.

“Fine,” you sighed. “But if ‘the old cunt’ lays a fucking finger on me I swear to god Butcher!”

“I’ll be back by nine.”

**

A loud knock on your door woke you up.

“Hey! Sweetheart!” Soldier Boy’s voice shouted from the other side. “You up?”

“I am now,” you mumbled to yourself angrily. 7:26 your clock read.

“I heard that,” Soldier Boy said. 

Shit, you thought. “What do you want?” 

“The stupid TV isn’t fuckin’ working, I need you to come and work your magic for me.”

You sighed. You couldn’t ignore him at this point, that’d most likely just anger him further. If he wanted to he’d just break down the door and drag you out to the living room.

“C’mon toots, don’t be a bitch about it,” he exclaimed.

“Screw you,” you mumbled.

“Hey!” Soldier Boy exclaimed. “What’d I just fuckin’ say!” He tried opening the door but you’d obviously locked it. 

“I-I’ll be out in a second,” you told him. 

“That’s more like it,” he mumbled back.

You quickly got out of bed (whole outfit still on, just in case Soldier Boy had tried something in the night) and hurried to the door before you opened it. There he stood, the strongest man alive. You gulped nervously as he didn’t move and stayed blocking your way out. 

He eyed you up and down obnoxiously, smirking at the sight and making your heart beat faster.

“Same outfit as last night, I see,” he said. 

“S-So?” you asked, trying to mask the pure fear this man instilled in you. “I just like these clothes, is all.” He didn’t say anything, just kept smirking at you. “You’re wearing the same clothes as yesterday, too, you know!”

“So you have been checking me out.” He nodded a little, the smirk still on his face.

“Did you want me to help you with the TV or did you just wake me up to be a dick?”

“TV,” he grumbled, “but would it kill you to be polite once in a while?”

“Would it kill you to move out of the way so I can head downstairs?”

He furrowed his brows before he rolled his eyes and stepped to the side; “After you, princess,” he mocked. You left your bedroom and he followed you downstairs to where the perfectly functioning TV hung on the wall.

You hated the way Soldier Boy eyed you as you took the remote out from the cabinet beside the TV and turned it on.

“It seems to be working fine?” you said, wanting to take his attention off of your ass. “What were you trying to watch?”

“Uh…how bout you pick something for us?” he offered.

“Excuse me?” you practically scoffed.

“C’mon, sit down and watch with me,” he said. You turned around, expecting to see him sitting on the couch, but he was now standing about a yard away from you. “Butcher seems to be gone…” He took a step towards you. “We’ve got the whole house to ourselves…” Another step. “Why don’t we have some fun?” He reached out and lightly touched your cheek, traced down the side of your face, and tilted your chin up to look him in the eyes.

“Soldier Boy—”

“I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me,” he interrupted you. “I know your heart starts racing when I walk into a room, I know it beats even faster when I get close. I know you want me, don’t even try to fuckin’ deny it.”

“P-Please—”

“Oh, I like a woman who knows when to beg,” he chuckled lowly as he bent down to kiss you.

“Please don’t hurt me, please,” you said quickly, tears stinging your eyes as they threatened to fall. “I-I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch to you, I-I didn’t mean it! Please don’t kill me!”

“Kill you?” He stood up straight, pulling his hand up off your face and putting it up in defense. “Kill you?” There was a moment of silence as he intensely looked at your reaction to him getting so close. “You…You’re scared of me, aren’t you?”

You nodded slightly, worried you might upset him as his face fell. He seemed almost saddened by the fact you didn’t want him near you.

“But…I’m a hero,” he scoffed slightly. “Why would you be scared of me?”

“Please don’t take it personally,” you said. “Just let me set up the TV for you and go back to my room…please?”

“You’re fuckin’ terrified right now, aren’t you?” he asked and again you nodded, again he scoffed.

“Can you blame me?” you asked. “I-If I rub you the wrong way you could snap my neck like a chicken bone without breaking a sweat.”

“But I…” He continued looking at you with confusion that seemed to be laced with curiosity. “I wouldn’t. I mean, I know I get angry sometimes but I’d never hurt you?”

“You wouldn’t be the first hero to turn on me,” you told him quietly. Soldier Boy paused and thought about what to do next. He’d never been in a situation like this before; standing alone with someone who was genuinely scared of him, someone that didn’t trust a hero like himself.

“Just uh… Just turn on a movie and you can go,” he said before he took a seat on the couch. “Another one from my time, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure,” you said; a small, forced smile on your lips. You found a movie you thought he’d like and pressed play for him before tossing the remote on the couch and leaving.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he called out, making you stop in your tracks. “I’m sorry you don’t trust me, but I need you to know that I’d never hurt you.”

“O-Okay, Soldier Boy,” you said before you hurried out of the room, up the stairs, and back into your room. “Billy Butcher I am going to fucking strangle you,” you mumbled to yourself.

**

“You’re up before noon,” Butcher remarked, seeing Soldier Boy in the living room. “And you got the TV workin’ on your own! Atta boy, gov’.”

“Actually, Y/n set it up for me,” Soldier Boy said.

Butcher sighed at that, “So, you’ve talked to her today then, huh?”

“Yeah, why?” the Supe asked before Butcher left to see you. 

He knocked lightly on your door before you opened it. 

“Hello—” Butcher started but a swift slap to the face shut him up pretty quickly.

“Fuck you, Butcher!”

“Did he hurt you?” Butcher asked, holding his cheek.

“No, but he almost fucking did, asshole! How dare you leave me alone with him like that!”

“Oh come off it! If you’re still in one piece then all’s well that ends well, am I right?” he said with a smirk and a shrug. 

“You ever do something like that again and I swear to god William!” You stared daggers at him.

“My ‘errand’ didn’t go as planned anyways, love,” he told you. “I’ve gotta figure out another way to find where they’re hiding Homelander.”

“Or whatever’s left of him,” you mumbled.

**

“Alright, I’m off,” Butcher announced, a full duffle bag in his hand as he headed to the door.

“What?” you exclaimed from the kitchen as you hurried to get between him and his destination. “What’re you talking about?”

“Everything okay?” Soldier Boy asked from the couch near the TV.

“Everything’s fine, gov’, you keep watching your movie,” Butcher said.

“Can I talk to you outside for a minute?” you asked Butcher, you didn’t want Soldier Boy to hear what you were about to say. 

“After you then, love,” Butcher obliged.

The second the door closed behind the two of you, you let him have it.

“Don’t you fucking dare leave me here alone with him again, I cannot fucking take it!”

“It’ll only be for a little while, you’ll be fine!” Butcher said.

“Then let me come with you!”

“What, and leave the cunt here alone? He’ll burn the house down trying to make himself a fuckin’ sandwich,” Butcher exclaimed. “He needs a fuckin’ babysitter and that’s you.”

“Why me? Why can’t you call Hughie? Or Frenchie? Or, better than all of us combined, Kimiko?” you asked.

“Hughie’s outta state, Frenchie and Kimiko are both knee-deep in shit sussing out another lead on Homelander’s whereabouts.”

You sighed heavily, you saw his point but the thought of being trapped again made your stomach hurt; “Please don’t leave me alone with him, Butcher. You know how much he fucking terrifies me, and you know exactly why.”

“I’m sorry I gotta do this to you, love, but you know he’s our only shot at killin’ Homelander once and fucking for all.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“Only a day or two.”

You again conceded, against your better judgment, and let Butcher leave you with Soldier Boy.

“What was that all about?” the Supe asked when you walked back into the house and locked the door. 

You forced a smile; “Nothing, Soldier Boy,” you said, “dinner will be ready soon.”

You didn’t know Soldier Boy heard everything you and Butcher had said.

**

“Looks great, toots.” Soldier Boy walked up behind you in the kitchen, not missing the flinch you threw when he got a little too close. 

“Thanks,” you mumbled. 

“You still that scared of me?” he asked, leaning on the counter and trying to get you to look up at him.

“If you can hear my heart, I’m sure you’ve got something that can smell my fear too.”

“I know I make your heart race, your breathing becomes slightly quicker when I get close, and I’ve noticed your pupils tend to change when you notice I’m next to you.”

“So why is my fear such a fuckin’ surprise, then?” you scoffed.

“I guess I didn’t realize it was fear making your heart race and your pupils dilate slightly.”

“What, you thought I was into you or something?” you asked half-heartedly before you looked over at him and realized that was exactly what he had thought. “Oh.”

“So, yeah, I was surprised when I realized you didn’t like havin’ me around,” he admitted. You almost felt guilty for a moment but it quickly disappeared as you remembered why you were scared of him in the first place. “Can you at least tell me why, though?” he asked as you shoveled his food onto a plate. “Why are you so scared of me? I get that I’m stronger than you but, no offense, isn’t Butcher too? Isn’t like… almost every man out there?”

“One, I trust Butcher. I’ve known him for years and he’s been nothing but good; he’s an asshole, sure, but he’s good when it counts. And two, I don’t spend time alone with ‘almost every man out there’ so that does not help your case at all.” You handed him the plate. “Here’s your food.”

“Thanks, dollface.” He took it from you and you started getting your own plate ready. He watched your every move and his brows knitted with confusion as he did so. 

“You can go sit down,” you told him. “You don’t need to watch me like a hawk.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just still tryin’ to figure you out I guess.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you scoffed.

“You know I’m a hero, right? I’m a superhero, and I would never hurt you?”

“Look, no offense, but the last time I trusted a Supe it really didn’t turn out well and I’m not gonna let myself give you even an inch of trust because you are even stronger than the last guy.”

“What happened? What’d he do?” Soldier Boy asked and you didn’t respond. “C’mon, you owe me that much! I’ve been nothing but good to you, yet you’re treating me like I did whatever this other Supe did to you!”

“I don’t owe you shit, Soldier Boy,” you snapped and you could’ve sworn you saw genuine hurt flash over his features. “If you must know, it was The Deep. I trusted him, let him be good to me, and it all blew up in my face in the most awful way I could’ve imagined.”

“I’m sorry, honey.” He reached out to touch your shoulder but you flinched away from him.

“Please, don’t touch me. I get that you’re trying to be sweet or whatever but please don’t. It’s not doing what you think it’s doing, Soldier Boy.”

He nodded and backed away slightly.

“My name’s Ben,” he told you. You looked at him with a sense of shock. “My real name’s Ben, you don’t have to say ‘Soldier Boy’ all the time, you can just say ‘Ben’.”

“Okay, Ben, while we’re on the topic of names, you could ease up on the ‘toot’s and ‘doll’s and ‘dollface’s and ‘honey’s and ‘sweetheart’s you know. Or at the very least stick to one pet name.”

He smiled at your honesty, hoping it was a sign you might be scared of him just a tad less.

“Think I’ll just stick to callin’ you sweetheart, then,” he replied.

“Thank god, I was really starting to hate dolls.”

That made him laugh deeply before he walked to the table and took his seat.

Don’t you fucking dare, you thought to yourself when you felt a feeling of almost-not-absolute-fear-and-disgust wash over you for a split second. 

**

“Look, I’m sorry, but—”

“You’re sorry?” you scoffed into the phone. “Butcher get the fucking hell back here!”

“I can’t, I’ve gotta spend another night over here. Apparently—”

“I don’t give a rat's ass why you have to stay, I am begging you to please get back here now!” Tears were stinging your eyes as your voice cracked.

“I’m sorry—”

“If he does anything to me, anything at all, I’ll never fucking forgive you for leaving me alone with him, Butcher. You understand me, William? Never!”

“He’s not gonna hurt you,” Butcher sighed. “Just keep your distance and be nice to him. He does have a bit of a temper, maybe he just needs to relieve some tension…”

“That’s not funny!” You gritted your teeth as a few tears slipped down your cheeks. “When are you getting back here?”

“A few more days,” he replied. 

Before he said another word you hung up on him, furious that he thought it was okay to leave you alone with Soldier Boy.

Though the Supe was in his own room upstairs, he still heard every word you said. He’d never admit it, but his heart clenched at the thought of how scared you were right now. 

**

It had been over a week since you’d seen him when Butcher finally got back with some new information on Homelander’s location. He had a plan to find the exact coordinates and he wasn’t going to let his morals get in the way.

“Well, well, you clean up nice,” Butcher commented when you stepped out of the bathroom.

“Shut up,” you grumbled. You were wearing a short royal blue dress with a deep v-neckline and almost no back, the silver heels and necklace tied the otherwise seemingly plain outfit together nicely. “If this stupid plan of yours gets me killed I’m gonna come back and haunt you for the rest of your fuckin’ life.”

“Wow,” Ben beamed when he walked out of his room and saw you standing in the hall with Butcher. “You look incredible, sweetheart.”

“I look like a damn hooker,” you said. 

“That’s the idea, love.” Butcher smirked.

**

A high-ranking Vought employee had been seen at a certain bar almost every night for the last two months and it was now your job to get him to trust you. If he trusted you enough, he would take you back to his place and you could find out any and all information he had on Homelander. 

The plan seemed simple enough, yet Ben seemed more anxious about the situation than you were. 

“Are you sure this is safe?” Soldier Boy asked when you were all seated in the van outside the bar.

“No, but if this helps us get Homelander then it’s safe enough,” you told him. 

“Besides, you’ll be in there with her,” Butcher reminded him. “And if you stay focused on keeping her safe, then I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

“How ‘bout we come up with a code word or something?” Ben suggested as he put in the earpiece Butcher handed him. 

“How about ‘Soldier Boy’?” you said, Ben shook his head.

“And what happens if you need to say ‘Soldier Boy’ but you don’t need help?” he countered.

“How about…Ben?” You smiled a little when he nodded.

“I’ll be listening closely to the whole conversation, if you say ‘Ben’ I’ll come and get you outta there.”

“Sounds good.” 

“Alright,” Butcher interrupted, “Soldier Boy keep me updated and if all goes well, Y/n, we won’t be seeing you again til later tonight.” He winked obnoxiously.

“If this guy genuinely tries to sleep with me I’ll break his fuckin’ nose,” you said flatly. “Info or no info, I ain’t letting him see me naked.”

**

Ben had gone in about a minute before you did and found a nice spot near where he knew you’d be sitting with the target. The second you walked in his eyes were glued. He stayed true to his word and listened to every word you and the target said.

“This seat taken, handsome?” you asked the man who then smirked at you. 

“It is now,” he said. “And what’s your name, gorgeous?”

“Goldie,” you lied as you took your seat. “What’s yours?”

“Steven. Let me buy you a drink?” he offered and called the bartender over when you nodded. 

“Vodka martini,” you ordered. “So Steven, what do you do for work?”

“I work for Vought,” he said and you faked an impressed look. 

“No way!” you gasped. “Oh my god, do you know The Seven?”

“I do,” he said with a nod, clearly full of himself. 

“That is so cool,” you continued stroking his ego. You nodded in thanks when the bartender handed you your drink and you took a sip. “I’ve never met someone so important!”

“You wanna know a secret?” he asked, you nodded enthusiastically. He leaned over so he could whisper into your ear; “I’m actually in The Deep’s close, personal circle.”

Your eyes went wide for a split second before you got a hold of yourself and whispered back; “Really?”

“Uh-huh,” he said. “I could introduce you if you’d like.” You pulled away from him slightly but still tried your best to keep yourself calm.

“Oh, that’s alright,” you shook your head, “I’m sure he’s too busy for little old me.”

“I’m never too busy.” The voice behind you made your whole body tense up and Ben could tell you were in trouble. You hadn’t said the code word though and he knew both you and Butcher would be mad if he screwed up the mission.

“Butcher,” Ben said into the intercom attached to his jacket, “Deep’s here.”

Butcher paused for a moment before he answered; “Don’t freak out. Y/n can handle herself and unless she says ‘Ben’ you don’t make a move, you understand Soldier Boy?”

“Understood,” he replied.

“You know,” The Deep said, still standing behind you, “I’ve had my eye on you since you walked in here, gorgeous.”

“Y-You have?” you asked, wondering if he recognized you or if your face just blurred together with all the other women he had assaulted. You took another sip of the drink in your hand and continued to keep a close eye on it to make sure it didn’t get spiked.

“I have,” he replied. “Now, why don’t you let my friend Steven here show you a nice time, then take you back to my place at Vought Tower?”

“S-Sounds good,” you trembled. “I-I’ll see you later tonight then, Deep.” You took another, smaller sip.

“Wonderful,” he said before he bent down and placed a kiss on your cheek. “Can’t wait to see this dress on my floor.” With that, he walked away and you let out a sigh of relief.

“Fish fucker’s left the building,” Ben told Butcher. “You gonna tail him or are we still focusing on Steven?”

“Stay focused on Steven, we can kill fish fucker another day,” Butcher said.

“So, you want another drink?” Steven asked you. “Or would you rather head over to the tower?”

“You know, I’d rather spend the night at your place, Steven.” You faked a sweet smile. 

“Really?” He raised a brow as a smirk returned to his face. “So, another drink, then?”

“How about I just let you take me home?” The moment you stood up you knew something was wrong. You instantly felt dizzy and sat back down. “Ben, help,” you whispered when you realized exactly what was happening. 

“Looks like we’re heading to the tower, Goldie,” Steven said. “Thanks as always, Pat.” He handed a couple hundreds to the bartender.

Ben came up behind Steven and pinned him against the bar with one hand, his other hand resting on the bar itself a few inches from where you were now slouched over.

“What the hell did you do to her, fuckface?” Ben seethed.

“I didn’t do anything! What’s your problem?” Steven yelled, drawing attention to the scene unfolding.

Ben took the back of the man’s head and brought it up half a foot before he slammed it back down onto the wood. 

“Tell me what you fuckin’ did or I’ll squish you like a bug,” Ben yelled as he applied more and more pressure to Steven’s head.

“Roofie!” Steven yelled. “Ask the bartender!”

“Ben don’t kill him,” Butcher told him through the earpiece. 

“He deserves to fuckin’ die, Butcher,” Ben replied.

“Yes he does but he still has information that we need. If you’ve gotta kill someone, kill the bartender who spiked the fuckin’ drink!”

Ben looked up from gravely injured Steven and saw the bartender cowering in the corner.

“Ben,” you whispered and reached out to touch the hand he still had on the counter. “Ben get me outta here.” His angered expression slowly faded as he looked down into your hooded eyes. “Please?”

“Yeah, I’ve got you,” Soldier Boy said before he quickly scooped you up in his arms and carefully kept your head resting on his shoulder. “Hey, barkeep,” he shouted and the man looked over at him. “Mark my words; no matter where you go or what you do I will find you and tear you limb from fucking limb for hurting her. Your days are fucking numbered.”

Ben hurried you out to the truck and sat you down on the seat next to his so you could lean on him if you wanted, or alternatively, you could lean against the window if you still didn’t want him touching you.

“Stay with her, I’m gonna go figure out how much they gave her and if we need to take her to the hospital,” Butcher told Soldier Boy before leaving.

“Ben,” you slurred, still barely able to open your eyes, “Ben what—what’d you do to me?”

“God fuckin’ damn it, Butcher,” he mumbled under his breath. He blamed Billy entirely for the operation going sideways and for you ending up in danger. “Fuck, you need to purge, sweetheart.” He positioned you so your head was hanging out the side door and stuck his fingers down your throat, ignoring your angered hits to his arms. “This is for your own good, stop fighting me.”

You hurled out the side door, Ben held onto you tightly and made sure you didn’t fall out or get hurt. 

“Please just let me go,” you whispered when he took his fingers out, satisfied with the amount of possibly deadly alcohol you were able to get out of your system.

“I know you’re scared right now, but I can’t let you go,” he told you. “I’m sorry.”

Butcher got back to the car pretty quickly, a worried expression on his face.

“How much did they give her?” Ben asked.

“Too fuckin’ much,” Butcher replied. “We’ve gotta make her puke it all up or she might not make it.”

**

You woke up on the couch to the sound of Butcher and Ben arguing in the kitchen, a splitting headache quickly made itself known when you opened your eyes fully.

“This is your fault, Butcher,” Soldier Boy yelled, “you and your stupid obsession to find Homelander. How dare you put her life at risk like that!”

“Hey I had the strongest man alive in there backing her up, so how the hell did you screw up so badly?”

There was a pause as you kept listing, a part of you was scared you’d start to hear punches being thrown.

Ben shook his head as he looked at his ‘boss’; “You’re a fuckin’ asshole, you know that? She’s been scared outta her fuckin’ mind and yet you just keep on pushin’ her and pushin’ her. And for what? To kill a Supe that’s probably dead already? You know Homelander ain’t a threat since I fuckin’ burned him, yet you still put someone you say you care about in danger.”

“‘Scared outta her fuckin’ mind’?” Butcher scoffed. “What’re you on about?”

“I know she’s terrified of me,” Ben admitted. “I know that you know she is, too. And yet you keep leaving her alone with me, why? Just to make her life worse? To make her feel less safe than she already does?”

“You sayin’ she’s got a reason to be scared of you, then?” Butcher asked. “Thought you were supposed to be some kinda hero?”

“Of course I’d never hurt her! But I’m still a Supe and I know you hate Supe’s. There’s no way in hell you trust me at all or you wouldn’t have her babysitting me every time you leave the fuckin’ house. What I don’t get is why you’re so comfortable leaving her here with the strongest man in the world when you think I’m a fucking monster.” Ben walked over to the fridge and took a bottled water out before he grabbed a cup and left the kitchen.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said quietly as he entered the living room. “I know you’re up, do you want some water?”

“What happened?” you asked as he squatted on the floor in front of the couch and made eye contact with you.  

“We can fill you in later, you should probably drink,” he said and held out the two items in his hands. “Would you rather the bottle or a cup?”

“Bottle’s fine,” you replied and you slowly sat up, putting a hand to your head before you took the water from him.

“You need some Aspirin or something?” he asked. 

“I’m sure Butcher ‘ll bring me some,” you said, making Ben’s brows furrow a little before he nodded with realization.

“You still don’t trust me much, do you?”

“Sorry,” you mumbled before beginning to drink the water. “What am I wearing, by the way?” you asked and gestured to the dirty, large black tee you had on over the blue dress.

“Oh, uh,” he scratched the back of his neck nervously, “it was on the car floor, I think it’s Butcher’s. I put it on you when uh, when you were kinda out of it and… your boob might’ve kinda… popped outta your dress.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “I didn't… like I didn’t look or anything, I just saw the shirt and immediately put it over you.”

“Sure.” You nodded before you continued downing the bottled water.

“I’ll go get Butcher to bring you some painkillers,” Ben said before leaving the room.

**

You’d just gotten out of the shower and put on a new set of clean clothes when Butcher stopped you in the hall.

“How’s your head?” he asked.

“Better,” you replied flatly, still pretty frustrated with him.

“I’m sorry I was such an idiot,” he sighed, “I shoulda told Soldier Boy to get you hell outta there the second the fish fucker showed his ugly mug.”

“We needed intel on Homelander,” you reminded him. “My safety was just the price we had to pay.”

“And that was a fucked up currency for me to gamble with,” he said. “I’m sorry I’ve been so obsessed and I’m sorry for leaving you alone with Soldier Boy so much the past couple of weeks.”

You shrugged a little; “It’s no big deal.”

“I want you to know I’m done tryin’ to find Homelander.”

“Seriously?” Your eyes went wide and you furrowed your brows. 

“The cunt’s most likely down for the count anyway thanks to granny fucker downstairs and there are other Supes that are much bigger threats right now anyway. Like The Deep, for example, and the number of people he’s paying to help him get away with assaults like last night. I’ve been talking with Hughie and as it turns out, he’s already had his eye on a handful of other bartenders workin’ for fish dick.”

“So…what? You’re saying you’re gonna go back to your old job at Supe affairs and start hunting down these assholes in a more mentally-healthy way?” you asked.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

**

When you entered the living room you noticed Ben readjusting his position on the couch, as if to try and make himself appear less threatening.

“Hey,” you said quietly, a small smile on your lips as you sat down about two feet from him on the same couch.

“Hey,” he replied. “How’re you feeling?”

“Better.” You nodded. “You need help with the TV?” you asked, picking up the remote from where it sat on the coffee table in front of you.

“Yeah, thanks,” he replied. He watched you intently as you ‘worked your magic’ on the electronic contraption.

“I know I was completely at your mercy last night, Ben,” you said, focused on the TV and not looking over at him. “And I know you could’ve easily taken advantage of the fact I was out of it.”

“But I didn’t.”

“I know that, too.”

“But you still don’t trust me?”

“I want to,” you said. You reached out your left hand and gently placed it on his right one. He looked down at where your hands were touching and smiled softly. “I want to trust you, I just need time to get to know you.”

“You sayin’ you wanna get to know me?” he asked with a bit of a smirk before you nodded. The two of you stayed like that for a moment before Soldier Boy broke the silence; “So, where do we go from here?”

“How about we watch something together?” you suggested. 

“That sounds great, sweetheart.”

#the boys #soldier boy x reader #the boys x y/n #the boys x you #the boys tv #the boys fanfic #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy fic #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy fanfic #by jean #by mind empty just fictional people

[deanbrainrotwritings]

—  HERO OF THE HALF-TRUTH

SUMMARY : “I'm a hoe for Soldier Boy (I'm past hiding it😅) so I thought maybe you write one smut fic where he seemingly picks up reader from a bar, where he is at some promo event or something like that, and they go for a quickie behind a bar and after when she wants to go home, he forces her to sit through rest of the evening with his cum dripping down her legs, and if you're comfortable with it- there could be some degrading, hair pulling, roughness, choking?” — @k-slla 

PAIRING : soldier boy (ben) x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

TAGS/WARNINGS : explicit(18+), tiny canon divergence, depression, trauma, ptsd, degradation, i made soldier boy a sad little puppy, hair pulling, roughness, choking, unprotected p in v, cum kink

WORD COUNT : 3.7k

A/N :  title from an august burns red song. this fills the secret relationship square on my @jacklesversebingo card. I almost forgot to post this lmao 

Soldier Boy, he can’t seem to escape Vought. 

Even breaking every rule Stan Edgar enforced didn’t get him released of the steel strings keeping him from doing whatever the fuck he wanted. 

After being tortured for forty fucking years, it was the least he thought he deserved. He was old as fuck, he could feel the heaviness of it every morning when his eyes opened up to the bright sunlight. He was exhausted and everything looked dead. 

On top of everything, there was a dull ache that remained attached to him like a parasite from the betrayal of his teammates. Even though they’re all dead, even though they didn’t matter to him as he ended their lives—or even before that—his life layers around the hurt and pain left behind by the Crimson Countess. 

There was an emptiness that pressed into his soul like a black hole that no amount of drugs, sex, and alcohol could fill. It got sucked up like it was nothing, unseen, forgotten. It’s how he felt, too. Like nothing, forgotten, thrown away like a useless piece of trash by the very company that struggled to keep him under their thumb now, once again.

He had dreams and hopes before everything that happened. He could have had it all, but all of that evaporated in the same way he had eviscerated his old lover, the Crimson Countess. 

More often than he liked, Ben woke up to nothing, to no one—completely alone, unloved, unimportant. Forgotten. 

Still, here he was, at a ridiculously expensive bar for a promo event. Rich assholes surrounded him, faking smiles and faking laughter, shaking hands and making stupid small talk. They wore expensive suits and held glasses of alcohol that they hardly drank from the whole night. 

Don’t even get him started on the Supes that were on their best behaviour for the night. Pretending to be the good guys. Ben thought they were worse than him. Every single one of them were pathetic, useless, and weak. He didn’t like a single one, but he smiled, too, faking for the night knowing all the annoying cameras that were snapping shots of everyone at any given moment, and that irritating journalists were eavesdropping on every conversation to get the juiciest stories. 

He rolled his eyes as soon as he was able to get away from a journalist who refused to take his ‘no comment’ for an answer. Instead, she was hounded by the Deep who was told which people to talk to in order to continue rewriting his image. 

Ben grunted when he sat on the barstool and the bartender greeted him with a flirtatious, red-lipped grin. He wasn’t in the mood for anything tonight, but he mustered a smile when he ordered a whiskey. But otherwise, he stared into the golden liquid after taking a small sip, ignoring the woman when she brushed her fingers with his. 

Life went by around him; pop music played in the background, people’s voices made a hundred symphonies from laughing and conversation. And the bartender took Ben’s rejection with pride and continued to speak to patrons, reporters, and other Supes. 

His attention drifted away from the glass containing golden liquor when his skin prickled, a shiver running up his spine. He looked to the one side and then the other, there’s only one person who could make him feel that. 

And there she was, sitting on a barstool at the edge of the bar top laughing it up with A-Train, rather awkwardly. It’s like she called to him, somehow, without words. Not a single look had been exchanged just yet. His body felt her before he even laid eyes on her beauty, or touched the softness of her, or caught a whiff of her floral scent. 

Ben stood up to make his way to her. A-Train left instantly when Ben stood behind her with a scowl on his face. He watched her shiver with a tiny smirk, her sentence halfway complete by the time A-Train made it halfway across the room. 

Casually, she spun around in the stool to face him. Her expression was guarded—to everyone else, they were strangers. 

“Hey,” he grunted, deciding to take a seat next to her.

“What are you doing?” She asked quietly, looking away from him to drink the sweet Cosmo she ordered for herself. 

“I should be asking you that,” he shook his head and gave her a sideways glance. He caught the tiny smile on her face for being caught and bit his lip to stop himself from mirroring it. 

She paused and took a slow, short sip of her drink. He resisted the urge to look at her for taking so long to respond. He could feel her hesitation and her quiet sigh made his smile drop slightly.

“I haven’t seen you all week,” she murmured, finally admitting what had driven her to see him in a place filled with people he was hoping to keep from entering her life. They had no privacy now with all the Supes and Stan Edgar around, and he wanted to be angry at her for risking their… relationship, but most importantly her safety. 

He kept her from Vought, from Supes, from anyone who could hurt her or use her to get to him.  

He felt bad. Even though he had good intentions. He couldn’t deny that he was neglecting her. Making her wait for him as Vought dragged him here and there either to play hero or to do shit like this. Promo events. Fucking movies, songs, advertisements. 

It was exhausting to pretend so much. 

He wished he could see her more often. 

If he could, he’d like to return home to her. To lay in bed with her while she runs her fingers through his hair and while they watch another important movie he missed while he was… yeah. 

He just wanted to settle down with her, but Vought was a danger to his dream with her. 

Ben drowned the whiskey in one gulp and pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth, inhaling softly. He could feel her watching him, and he eyes subtly followed as he stood up and stomped away from the bar to get outside.

He hoped no one would follow him, except her. 

The night was dark, and cool enough that the sky was clear and the stars fought to shine against dark blue-violet skies despite the bright city lights. There was no breeze, the air didn’t bite at his skin and made his cheeks and nose turn red. 

It was perfect.

As perfect as the back of a bar could look during the evening. Cars zoomed by at the very end of the alley and colourful graffiti covered posters of Supes in the wall. Slander and hatred were sprayed against the walls, against Vought, a majority of the Supes. Others wanted Maeve back or defended Starlight, or Homelander. 

People were twisted. Cruel. Pathetic. Hypocritical. As they always were. They never changed, from what he remembers. Not really. They always think they are right, that they know better-

“What?” He heard the heavy door slam against the wall. The door shut slowly behind her when Ben turned around to see colourful pink and blue lights from inside form a shape around her body. 

She crossed her arms over her chest, her face was sadder, but still careful. She knew better than to drop her guard. That fearful glint in her eyes told him that she knew better than to think she was safe. Or that he wasn’t being watched.

That didn’t stop Ben from wanting to hold her. To kiss away her doubts, to smooth the worry lines on her forehead with his fingers, to melt away the tension from her muscles. 

“Sorry,” he whispered instead, his fingers twitching before clenching into a fist. He stepped towards her once the door clicked shut behind her, but she stood where she was as if her feet had grown roots, preventing her from reaching him. “You know I’d like to go everywhere with you in my arms, but-”

“You don’t need to explain it to me again,” she interrupted him softly, rubbing her hands up and down her arms to make herself warm. She looked down at the intricate designs on his suit rather than looking into his big, pleading, green eyes. “Did you miss me… At least?” She blurted out, embarrassment blazing up her face for needing that reassurance, for asking it out loud.

Ben took the final steps to close the distance between them and cupped her cheek. He pressed his lips to her forehead and brushed her cheekbone with his thumb. “I did, you know I did,” he mumbled softly against her.

Ben could feel her relax in his arms. She breathed out slowly and he wrapped his arm around her waist to bring her as close as possible. She clung to the buckles on his vest and closed her eyes as the sounds of the city at night faded into nothing around the two of them.

Part of Ben still felt guilty. Probably more now that he was holding her than before.

Here she was, all dolled up and glamorous for him. Because she missed him. Sure, he thought of her way too much the entire week, but she doesn’t know that. He was so overwhelmed with his job and doing what was expected of him, reshoots and interviews, so many things that came with his contract with Vought. 

If he trusted the damned company, he’d include her and her safety when it gets renewed. He’d request a meeting tomorrow, or tonight, to have it changed. So he wouldn’t have to sneak around with her. He’d like to quit to have all that without being under Vought, but he wouldn’t feel safe, and therefore, she wouldn’t be safe either. 

If he could, he’d fake his death and run away with her. But unlike him, a man who simply doesn’t belong in this time, she was the tree at the centre of a garden that everyone loved to gaze at and be around. He couldn’t just uproot her and leave an empty space where she once was in everyone’s lives. She was loved for who she was—genuine, kind, feisty. But Ben was just liked for his looks, for what he was good for—except for her, he loved him as he was, for all that he was.

Every ugly part. Every bad part. And there was a lot of that. He was an asshole and he was insecure, he already knew that. Who was he kidding besides the people who seemingly adored him? Fans?

“Come on,” she whispered, pulling away to kiss him on his bearded jaw, “let’s get back inside so I don’t freeze out here.” Ben’s fingers dug firmly into her hips to keep her in place.

“What makes you think I’m letting you leave so quickly?” His rough voice caused a shiver to run up her spine. She smiled softly against his mouth and pushed up on her toes to wrap her arms around his neck. “I missed you and you look gorgeous. And now that I have you here… I’m going to make a mess of you with the time I have.”

She inhaled sharply, excitement speeding up her heartbeat. Ben walked her backwards until her back hit the cold wall and she gasped softly once she was pressed against the painted bricks. Her flushed skin made her more sensitive to the cold surrounding her and almost instantly, before his luscious mouth even landed on hers, she felt a tingle of excitement followed by a flood of wetness between her legs.

“Are we really gonna fuck here?” She whispered against his lips. His beard tickled the soft skin of her chin when he hummed a ‘yes’ against her lips, pressing softly at first. “What if someone sees us?” She asked, burying her fingers into his soft, brown hair. 

Ben smirked, his tongue teasing the seam of her lipstick-painted lips. The dull flavour of lipstick hit his taste buds, but his mouth still watered. Her lips parted just slightly, her shaky breath made his lips tingle. “You should know better than to think that would stop me.” 

“Fuck,” she exhaled, his voice alone was enough to make her moan. His fingers clenched her dress, slowly dragging it up her legs, slowly pressing his knee between her legs. To tease, his knee grazed her clit, their mingled breaths made his mind hazy with arousal.

“Now, be a good little slut and give me your panties,” he ordered, releasing her dress to smack her ass with both of his hands. She moaned softly and brought his lips down to hers for a deeper, sensual kiss. 

His fingers tangled in her hair and he tilted her head to slide his tongue into her mouth, licking, sucking, desperately looking for a way to fuse himself with her. Her fingers blindly pulled and tugged at the buckles around his hips and then she whined uselessly when she couldn’t get a single one undone. 

He stopped kissing her to laugh softly, “I told you to focus on you.” 

“Please,” she laughed shyly, pecking his lips. She cupped his cock over his trousers and he gasped, rolling his hips against her hand. 

“We have to make this quick,” he told her, stepping back to work quickly on the buckles. He was faster, pulling out straps expertly, habitually, from years of practice. He didn’t even have to glance away from her flustered face, but unlike him, she clumsily dragged her seamless panties down her legs.  

He hadn’t removed anything, not enough for her to see how hard he was, and he wasn’t giving her a chance to. “I’m keeping these, doll,” he grinned, snatching her underwear and shoving them inside his armour vest, right where his heart thundered against thick metal. 

“Can I keep anything of yours?” She pouted. 

“You can keep my cum?” He offered with a smug smirk, his hands moved from where they were to grasp her hips and spin her around faster than she could process. 

“Okay,” she replied with a smile, hesitantly setting her hands and cheek against the wall. He laughed against her shoulder and hiked up her dress again, his fingers trailing up her sides. 

“You just love being a fucking cum-dump for me, dontcha?” He teased, his voice dripping over her like honey, deep and hot. She moaned softly in response and wiggled her hips impatiently. 

“Fuck.. anything for you, Ben.” He sank his teeth into her neck and guided his cock to her dripping entrance. The tip of his cock circled her entrance and slid through her wet folds slowly. The feeling of her bare heat against his skin made his grip tighten painfully around her hip.  

“Christ, you’re so fucking wet already,” he groaned, the length of his dick teasing her clit with every back and forth, “and I’ve barely even touched you.” He slowly pushed himself into her, shuddering at her delicious warmth wrapped around him. Her walls fluttered around him and she pushed her hips back into him, adjusting to the size of him. “That’s my needy little whore,” he praised degradingly, dragging his calloused hands up the front of her dress to palm her breasts. 

She moaned softly and reached back to thread her fingers through his hair, pulling at the strands until he groaned deeply against her back. The sound shook through her body like an earthquake and sent ripples of pleasure to her clit and pulsing walls. 

“Beg for my cock, needy little slut, show me how much you missed me,” he whispered into her neck with a smirk. He was all smug and sexy, hard and firm, and each touch woke something in her that she would have otherwise been too embarrassed to show anyone else.

“Please, fuck me,” she begged pathetically, pulling harder at his hair if she couldn’t convince him with her pleas. He wrapped his fingers around her wrist and pressed his fingers into her palm until she relaxed her grip. “God, please, Ben… I need you so bad,” she whispered needily, extending her hands back to grip onto any part of him that she could easily reach when he let her hand fall.

“Come on, let me hear you,” he panted, slowly thrusting into her. He bit his lip, digging his fingertips harder into her hips. She gasped at the pain and squirmed, but a tingle of pleasure began to bloom as he bruised her skin and dragged his cock slowly through her walls. “My pretty little slut,” he growled, smoothing his hands up her sides to bend her forward slightly.

“Please, Ben! I need you!” She whined, allowing him to roughly pull her up again against his chest. He pressed a hard kiss to her jaw, snapping his hips forward once as he groped her chest. Ben pulled the top of her dress down and didn’t hold back with the painful pinch of her nipples between his fingers. He ground his cock into her, driving himself deeper as she moaned and squeezed him. 

Her toes curled inside her heels and her breath hitched, but Ben continued to mouth at her cheek and her shoulder, his breath as uneven as hers. She could feel the grin on his face, the tickle of his beard fueled her arousal and she was dripping around his cock like a desperate whore.

“Please! I-I can’t take it!” She cried, pulling hard on Ben’s hair to make him move faster. He growled against her flushed skin and delivered another rough thrust in response. 

Ben’s teeth grazed her jawline and he grunted softly with each unhurried, deep, hard thrust. Her soft pleas and loud moans echoed against concrete walls, carried into the dark nothingness of the city. Her pussy clenched tighter around him and he was almost out of breath from how amazing she felt.

She clung to him as best as she could and his large hand ended up wrapped around her throat. He was waiting for her to finally fall apart and beg him to make her come. All she could do was ride along the tiny edge of her orgasm, so close to toppling over, but never having that pleasure wash over her.

“Faster, Ben! Let me come... Please… make me come!” She cried out, trying to move her hips to desperately meet his deep, slow pace. He squeezed her throat, pressing his fingers around her throat until her vision turned nearly all the way black.

“Christ, you’re perfect when you beg for my cock,” he chuckled. Be  relaxed his grip and she inhaled sharply, her brain getting fuzzier, like static. A moan slipped from between her lips and Ben finally began thrusting into her faster, sharper, precisely. Short quick gasps made their way past her swollen lips and his name hung in the air when it was stuttered lovingly. 

She found it easier to hold onto the wall, bending herself over once again as her knees became weak and her heels became difficult to stand in. Her mind evaporated from her skull, all she could feel was him, Ben. His suit brushed against her sensitive skin, hard armour pressing into her soft body. His beard scraped against her flushed neck, causing her to shudder and clench around him.

His lips were wet and warm against her skin, his breath adding to the heat to combat the cold that engulfed them. His hands touched and grabbed at what he could reach before tangling in her hair. He gripped her hair in one hand to breathe clearly into her ear, and he pulled at the strands so she stood up straight and couldn’t move away from him again.

Her scalp stung at occasional harsh tugs but his fingers on her clit distracted her enough to find more pleasure than pain. “You always do the stupidest fucking things for my cock,” he grunted in her ear, and despite how irritated she was from being edged she couldn’t help being amused.

Maybe it was all the pleasure that put her in a good mood or maybe it’s that she was finally where she wanted to be, with Ben. The man behind Soldier Boy. 

Her body had a pin-point focus on all the pleasure induced by everything he did to her. Taking her ability to breath with his grip tight around her throat, holding her to him with her hair wrapped around his fist. She felt like an overfilled balloon, overwhelmed with pleasure, love. She missed him more than anything and he was intoxicating.

She felt her orgasm wash over her, a scream of Ben’s name that he was partially able to muffle with his hand squeezing the side of her neck. She gasped, strained and strangled sounds that could barely move past his tight grip and then he let go before he could finish.

She was cold and empty for a few moments, her pussy clenched sound nothing and then a breath was punched out of her chest when he pressed her back into the wall. She was up in his arms, back to moaning and shaking when he slammed back into her.

A few quick thrusts with rough kisses pressed against her lips before warmth bloomed inside her from spurts of his release. Warm cum trickled down between her thighs and Ben laughed huskily against her shoulder when she held him tighter. 

“I missed you,” she whispered breathlessly, slightly disappointed when he pulled his cock out of her and set her back down. She leaned against the wall to catch her breath and recompose herself. She closed her eyes when he dipped down to kiss her cheek.

“Me too,” he murmured, his lips ghosting across her flushed cheeks. She fixed her clothes and tried to keep her focus on him, but she felt exhausted. Weak. “Tell you what,” he began, pulling her back in to keep her warm, “Sit like this through the night and I’ll take you home with me,” he proposed, smirking at the laughter that shook her body. “That’s what you’re good for, keeping my cum safe inside that needy little cunt of yours,” he brushed his lips against hers, collecting sticky strings of their release with his fingers to smear them across her painted lips. He bit his lip and watched her lick her mouth clean. 

“Yes, sir, Soldier Boy,” she smiled, entranced by the lascivious way he sucked on his fingers. 

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#soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy smut #soldier boy fic

[wildwestdean]

sweet and sour

summary: when you get back home after drinking a little too much, a sweeter side of ben slips out to take care of you. though you quickly learn that with him, you can't have any sweet without a little sour

pairing: soldier boy x female reader

word count: 3.2k+

warnings: some (mainly) ooc ben, swearing, depictions of alcohol consumption, drunk reader, angst, mentions of drug use, allusions to past sexual behaviours, fluff, hurt/comfort, nicknames/pet names

a/n: okay so i haven't actually made it to soldier boy's appearance in the boys yet, but i had a burning desire to write for him anyway. so yeah just don't judge pls lol

“What the fuck are you doing?” boomed a voice from behind you. 

You jumped slightly at the sudden noise, but turned with a grin upon recognizing whose voice it was. 

“Ben!” you giggled, meeting his confused gaze with bright eyes as you slightly swayed on your feet. “What’re you doing?”

He raised an eyebrow at you, trying to fight off the smirk forming on his lips as he ignored your question. “Looks like you had a good time out, huh, sweetheart?”

You couldn’t help the heat that rose to your cheeks at the term of endearment, or the string of giggles that left your lips. It wasn’t anything you weren’t used to, but it never failed to make you giddy - especially now. “I did!” you announced, before a frown suddenly took over your face as you remembered why you were in the kitchen “But now I want another drink, and I can’t find anythin’.” 

Ben just stared at you for a moment, taking in your rosey cheeks and glossy eyes; but most importantly, the frown that currently adorned your adorable face. He would never admit it, not even to himself, but he suddenly wanted nothing more than for that frown to disappear. 

“Alright,” he sighed, heading over to you. “What do you want?” 

You watched as he approached, taking in his more casual appearance of a t-shirt and sweats - and, you noticed with a shy grin, a pair of old man slippers. He came to a stop just before you, and you paused as you stared up at his stoic face while he towered over you. You didn’t even hear his question, too distracted by his overwhelming everything to even realize he asked something. 

He softly called your name to rouse you from your stupor, repeating it a little more gruffly when it didn’t work the first time. “What?” you asked, blinking up at his annoyed yet smirking face. 

“I asked you what you wanted,” he murmured. 

“Oh,” you said, your face scrunching together as you thought about it for a few moments. “I dunno,” you determined with a shrug. 

“And you expect me to find something for you?” he asked curtly, his brows rising in disbelief.  

Your brow unfurrowed as you grinned up at him. “Yes, please!” you declared eagerly, oblivious to the fact that he did not want to cater to you. 

He clenched his jaw, extremely irritated with his urge to smile at the sight of your cheesy grin. “Fucking-” he started, before he cut himself off with a long sigh, rolling his eyes. “Alright, fine. Just go sit down or something.”  

“Why?” you asked sadly, the frown taking over your face again. 

“Why?” he echoed incredulously. “When I came in, you were trying to find a drink while just staring at the fucking glassware for over a minute. That’s why.”

“Were you watchin’ me?” you asked smugly, smirking up at him. “Besides, that doesn’t mean I can’t help find a drink!” you argued, completely missing his point. 

His blank expression faltered for a second, a flash of colour fleeting across his face so quick it may as well have never been there. Then he simply barked a laugh, which only deepened your frown. “I bet you wish I was, huh? And you know, that's actually exactly what it means, dollface,” he chuckled darkly, tracing his knuckles along your cheek before suddenly grabbing you by the waist and hoisting you up onto the counter. “So sit this one out,” he said, ignoring your shriek of shock and protest. 

“Fine,” you grumbled, completely bewildered by the ease in which he manoeuvred you; as if it cost him zero effort. Which, of course, you knew to be true. 

“Good,” he said, smiling in satisfaction before ghosting a kiss against your forehead. “Now don’t fuckin’ fall off,” he warned as he walked over to the coffee machine. 

You watched him in confusion, your swirling brain trying to figure out why he was suddenly so much more affectionate with you. You were used to him teasing you, or returning your flirtations and banter, though this felt like more than that. Maybe he was just being extra nice since you were drunk. Or maybe you only thought he was being extra nice because, well, you were drunk. 

“Okay, knock it off,” he demanded, glancing over at you. “Why are you so frowny? I thought you liked your stupid girls’ night thing,” he added, leaning against the island with his arms crossed. 

“I do like my girls' nights! And I’m not frowny” you grumbled, almost offended he would suggest otherwise. 

“No?” he challenged, arching a brow as he took a few steps towards you. “‘Cause last I checked, this wasn’t your pretty smile,” he teased, tracing a thumb against your persistently downturned lips. Your smile naturally grew at that, and he beamed in response. “There’s my girl.” 

Your eyes widened at his words, and your reaction must have made Ben realize what he was doing. With slightly widened eyes of his own, he dropped his hand from your face as if burned and turned away from you once more, busying himself with making your coffee - exactly the way you liked it. 

You watched in silence, your feet softly swaying against the lower cabinets as your mind drifted in and out. “You don’t have any company tonight?” you found yourself asking suddenly.

“Think I’d be in here doing this if I had fucking company?” he asked hotly. “And I’m pretty sure you know when the last time I had company was,” he added bitterly. 

Through all the months of you living with Ben, you had noticed when his parade of bed warmers had started to dwindle down; and you had definitely noticed when it stopped altogether. Part of you likes to wish you had something to do with it, while the other part knew that was insane.

“Okay, grouchy,” you scolded with a chuckle. “Don’t act like it’s my fault.” 

“When the fuck did I act like it was your fault?” he snapped, growing exasperated. 

“Are you almost done?” you asked brazenly, ignoring his question. “I’m thirsty.”

“Coming right up, princess,” he sneered. 

You knew it was meant in a derogatory way based on his tone, yet you couldn’t help the warm tingle that spread through you anyway. 

“Here,” he grunted after a few minutes, nearly shoving the mug at you. He raised his eyebrows impatiently when all you did was stare down at it. “I better not have made this for nothing,” he warned. 

You gingerly took it from his hands, staring at it as if it was a foreign object; because, with a fluttering heart, you realized that he gave you your favourite mug - though you knew it was probably just a coincidence. 

“Thank you,” you said quietly, grinning softly at him before taking a sip. 

“Whatever,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes as he hastily turned his back on you once more. 

“You seem extra grumpy tonight,” you pointed out, watching him intently as you happily sipped away. 

“Who fucking cares?” he grumbled, keeping his attention off you as he made himself a drink - a strong one. He had a sinking feeling that if he looked at you he’d feel all warm inside again, and he refused to let that happen. “Besides. Maybe me being extra grumpy has to do with the drunk girl currently sitting on my counter.” 

“Oh,” you said meekly. “I’m bothering you?”

“You always fucking bother me,” he mumbled, slamming the bottle down. 

“I don’t mean to,” you assured quietly, your vision growing blurry with unshed tears. “I thought we’ve been getting along,” you added sadly. 

“Me putting up with you isn’t us getting along, dollface,” he sneered. 

You inhaled sharply at his declaration, your tears finally breaking loose and running down your face. “I can just leave you alone, then,” you offered, your voice a mere whisper. 

Ben made the mistake of glancing over at you, and the pang of guilt he felt inside his chest really pissed him off. He begrudgingly made his way over to you, standing between your swaying legs as he tried to meet your gaze - but you refused to acknowledge his presence. 

“Look at me,” he ordered, placing a hand on your chin to force your gaze on him. 

“No,” you said, closing your eyes. 

He let out an honest chuckle at your stubbornness, and if you had been able to see him, you would’ve noticed his eyes sparkle with affection. “Look at me,” he said again, much softer this time as his thumbs wiped away your tears. 

You let out a resigned breath, slowly looking up at him. 

“There she is,” he cooed, a small smile growing on his face. “Hey, darlin’.” 

“Hi,” you replied solemnly, your face scrunching ever so slightly in confusion over the interaction.

He didn’t speak for a while. Instead he just stood there, staring at you with your face in his hands as he tried to figure out what the hell to say next. 

“Look, just- stop crying, alright?” he said awkwardly, almost nervously. 

“Is that your idea of being comforting?” you asked dejectedly, almost laughing in disbelief. 

His grip on your cheeks tightened ever so slightly for a fraction of a second, before loosening again. “You and I both know that offering comfort isn’t my thing.” 

“You could at least try,” you muttered snidely. “I’m tired of being the only one of us who tries.” 

“What the fuck does that mean?” he snapped, letting you go and taking a step back in order to glare at you. 

You scoffed, frustratingly swiping away angry tears that began to stream down your face. “It doesn’t matter.” 

A heavy silence blanketed the two of you, and you picked up your mug to idly sip at it once more as he stared you down. He suddenly let out a frustrated huff, swearing and muttering under his breath as he turned away from you and grabbed his glass. With disbelieving eyes, you watched as he left the kitchen without a second glance. You weren’t a stranger to arguments with Ben, but this time, it felt different.

You stayed where you were perched, silently finishing your coffee and trying to make sense of everything that happened. You worked yourself back up into another frenzy as you thought everything over, and by the time your mug was empty you slammed it onto the counter with so much force you were surprised it didn’t break. Hopping off the counter, you began to stumble your way to your bedroom while angrily grumbling to yourself. A new inferno was set alight within you when along the way you came across Ben, nonchalantly lounging in the den as if nothing ever even happened. 

“How many fucking times do I have to tell you not to do that inside?” you snapped, watching in growing contemptment as he merely glanced in your direction before turning his attention elsewhere, smoke billowing over his face.  

“Tell you what, princess,” he muttered, taking another long drag from the joint he held. “I’ll stop smokin’ inside, as soon as you start payin’ for this fucking place.”

Without so much as giving it a second thought, you marched over to him and ripped the joint from his hands. He raised an eyebrow as he watched you with curiosity, a smirk already forming on his lips.

“I said,” you seethed, grabbing the ashtray from the side table as you stared him down. “Stop.”

He stayed silent, watching as you crushed the joint in the tray before tossing it back on the table with a clang. The corners of his mouth twitched as he fought back an amused grin before he steeled himself. 

“I’ll go ahead and give you ten seconds to leave,” he announced calmly, though you knew him well enough by now to notice the hint of warning in his tone. 

“Or what?” you challenged, stubbornly crossing your arms. 

Normally, you knew when to stop trying to push his buttons, but you had just enough alcohol still coursing through you to keep on going this time. 

He leaned forward, his presence completely imposing despite the fact he was sitting and you were standing over him. “Do you really want to find out?”

You shifted nervously as you took in his expression, and you knew he was both pissed off and annoyed; then again, it was rare that he wasn’t. 

“Whatever,” you finally muttered, turning away to leave. 

It wasn’t due to you being afraid of him - yes, he was intimidating as all hell, but he had never once actually physically hurt you. Despite the many times the urge struck him, and no matter how much he despised it, he quickly learned that you’re the one person he could never lay a harmful hand on. No, you simply left because you were growing exhausted over this whole night, and you just wanted some peace and quiet. 

“Thought so,” he grumbled behind your back, snickering as you momentarily stopped in your tracks. 

“Oh, just go to hell, Benjamin!” you exclaimed, whipping the closest thing you could grab towards his head. 

He caught it easily, laughing heartily when he realized what it was. “Thanks, doll. This is just what I needed,” he teased with a grin, rattling the pill bottle as he held it in the air for you to see. “It’s the only way I can fuckin’ put up with you.”

You stared at him carefully, and you could tell just by the look in his eyes that he only said it to get another rise out of you, but you couldn’t help the way your bottom lip trembled as you fought back more tears. 

His face instantly fell as he noticed your reaction, and while it was his intention, he instantly regretted it. With a heavy sigh, he tossed the bottle aside and stood up. 

“What are you-” you began to ask as he made his way over to you, but he cut you off. 

“Just shut up for once,” he muttered, a trace of a lighthearted chuckle in his voice as he shook his head. 

You opened your mouth to fire off more insults when he shocked all the words out of your vocabulary by wrapping his arms around you. He rested his chin on the top of your head, and even though you felt insurmountable anger towards him, you quickly found yourself melting into his touch, your arms tightening around his torso. A few moments passed by before he let out a small sigh, his fingers tracing a feather-light pattern along your back; a gentleness neither of you knew he was even capable of. 

“Look, I-... I didn’t… mean it,” he finally said. His tone was tight and awkward, and you knew it was a near impossible thing for him to actually admit. Honestly, hearing those words from him was nothing short of a miracle. 

“Thank you,” you said quietly, knowing this was the closest you would ever get to an apology from him. 

“How about we get you to bed, huh?” he asked lightly, trying to diffuse the situation. 

“Yeah,” you said, pulling away from him. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

You quickly left before he could respond, making it to your bedroom and locking yourself away in the bathroom to get ready. You took your time, carefully scrubbing away all the traces of the club, and the rest of the night, that you could before slipping into your night clothes. 

The first thing your bleary eyes noticed when you reentered your bedroom was Ben, paused in the middle of your room with a glass of water in his hand. 

“What are you doing?” you asked curiously, rubbing at your tired eyes. 

He let out a heavy exhale, looking at you with an expression you’ve never seen on him before. “Was just… bringing this to leave for you."

“Thanks,” you replied awkwardly, meeting him halfway to take the glass from him.

He stared at you for a moment, watching as you made your way to the bed and under the covers. He wanted to say something, but he wasn’t sure what. 

“I’ve been trying, you know,” he suddenly grumbled, unable to take the tense silence any longer. 

“What?” you wondered aloud, glancing over at him. 

His face was scrunched in concentration as he stared at something straight ahead, unable to bring himself to meet your gaze. “With you. To be… I don’t know… better.”

His words took you by surprise, and you felt a little guilty for making him think you never noticed. “I know that,” you admitted softly. 

“I don’t think you do,” he quipped, his voice more aggressive than he meant it to be. “You bother me all the fucking time.” 

“You know-” you began to argue, anger starting to simmer deep within your bones again. 

“Stop,” he all but growled, holding up a hand. “Just fucking listen for once.”

You glowered at him, folding your arms as you sank further under the covers, as if seeking some kind of protection, while waiting for him to continue. 

It took him a while to speak up again, and you almost thought he’d never continue, but he hesitantly explained himself. “You bother me… because you make me different.” 

“What do you mean?” you asked tentatively. 

“I don’t know,” he admitted, chuckling humourlessly. “I’m a dick. I don’t care that I’m a dick. But you- I’m around you, and I want to be less…” he trailed off with a sigh, unsure of how to go on. 

“Less dickish?” you offered, fighting off a smile. 

“Yeah,” he agreed, awkwardly clearing his throat. “Yeah, I guess so.”

You hummed thoughtfully, thinking over your response. “In case you haven’t noticed, you don’t exactly send me running for the hills, Ben.”

“I know that,” he said passively. “I just… I don’t know. Don’t think that I don’t try.”

He finally turned to look at you, and you could see the pleading in his eyes; the hurt. You sighed in defeat, sitting up and gesturing for him to take up the space beside you. He hesitated, raising a brow in contemplation before making his way over. You peeled back the covers for him, and he carefully slid in; cautious, as though he thought it was a trap. 

Neither of you were sure what to do next, and after a few minutes of awkward silence, you laid down to settle in for some sleep. Ben followed suit, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you in close; you instinctively nestled against him, relishing in the warmth he provided.  

“I hope you don’t think I’m drunk enough to forget that you were actually sweet tonight,” you said suddenly, your voice a playful whisper. 

He let out a chuckle, his chest rumbling beneath your cheek and forcing a small giggle from you. 

“Just don’t expect it all the time,” he declared, a playful undertone in his voice as well. “I’m mostly sour.” 

Though despite his declaration, his grip tightened to pull you in a little closer. 

“Well,” you said, closing your eyes and relaxing against him. “Sweet and sour does happen to be my favourite combination.” 

“And thank Christ for that,” he muttered, more to himself than anything. 

You smiled to yourself, hearing his words despite them sounding far away. You had a fleeting intent to respond, but your mind grew too heavy, and you quickly fell asleep to the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your head - though, not before you felt him placing a lingering kiss to your hairline, paired with a murmured goodnight, sweetheart.

tagging: @roseblue373

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy fic #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy fluff #soldier boy angst #jensen ackles #jensen ackles soldier boy #the boys tv #the boys #the boys series #soldier boy the boys

[jackles010378]

"SUPE"R Flexible

(Soldier Boy x You)

Billy Butcher forces you to babysit Soldier Boy. Ben doesn't know you're a supe, until one night you have a nightmare and things get quite heated between you both 🔥❤️‍🔥

Warnings : Contains SMUT (of course it does, it is soldier boy 😆😜)

(I laughed so hard at one of the lines I came up with {sad I know} let's see if you guys can figure out which one it is 😂🤭)

When Billy Butcher showed up at y/n's door, it was like a bomb going off in her quiet life. He had Soldier Boy in tow, a weathered and battle-worn soldier with a haunted look in his eyes. With his gruff voice and rough exterior, Butcher asked her without any pleasantries to keep an eye on Soldier Boy for him. Bewildered and taken aback, y/n reluctantly agreed, uncertain of what she had gotten herself into. "Don't worry sweet cheeks, you won't even realise I'm here" Soldier Boy commented as he pushed past her and plopped himself down on her sofa.

In just under an hour, Butcher had a few things delivered for Soldier Boy, which mainly consisted of booze, drugs and pornos. She turned a blind eye to all that. She knew what Soldier Boy had endured before he was put in that chamber over 40 years ago. As long as he didn't trash the place she left him to it. She only occasionally got annoyed with him when he wouldn't clean up after himself, or that he would just decide to walk around the apartment naked most of the time. Although she really didn't mind the latter part, he was easy on the eye after all.

The first few days after Butcher left seemed like an eternity. Y/n and Ben, which she now called him after a much heated argument, her telling him she wasn't gonna keep shouting Soldier Boy all the time. They managed to avoid each other as much as possible, their interactions limited to awkward greetings and fleeting glances. Y/n couldn't help but feel a mix of curiosity and unease whenever she caught glimpses of the man she was now responsible for. "Why don't you take a picture doll face, it will last longer" Ben said to her as he could feel her stare at him. Smiling to herself, she got her phone out and took it. He glared back at her as he heard the camera go off. He yanked the phone out of her hand "hey, you break it you will buy me a new one".

She watched in amusement as Ben studied the object in his hand. She knew she had to teach him about all the changes that had happened over the last 40 years he'd been "asleep".

He agreed reluctantly to let her show him all the new things like how smart TVs work, a laptop and obviously a mobile phone. He wasn't going to let on that he was enjoying spending time with her. Ben still had a lot of trust issues, he was let down by what was supposed to be 'his' team. Something in the back of his mind was telling him that he could trust y/n though.

Butcher had failed to mention to Soldier Boy that y/n was a supe just like him. Though to look at her you wouldn't tell she was one. Her frame was tiny although she was quite tall and she didn't have the muscle structure he had. Her powers were more to do with flexibility. If needed, y/n could squeeze herself into any small space or through the tiniest of gaps no one else could. Her bones were like elastic, making her able to bend into any shape she needed to.

Y/n, like Ben had been through a rough time. When Butcher found her she was so close to death he thought she would never make it. He didn't know of her powers until he took her to the hospital and they did all sorts of tests on her. Telling him she shouldn't have survived what she had endured and that it was a miracle she'd survived at all. It was then he asked starlight to do a little digging. He sent her a photo of y/n and asked if she could get info on her. Starlight found y/n's file at Vought HQ and told Butcher she was made into a supe. She was supposed to be a part of Homelander's team but she refused. Resulting in him torturing her endlessly till she caved, but she never did.

Nights were the hardest for y/n. Filled with restless sleep and vivid nightmares, she found herself tossing and turning, unable to find solace. And then one night, Ben heard her screams of distress. His instincts kicked in, and he rushed to her thinking she was being harmed.

Ben shook y/n awake, some concern etched on his weary face. Startled awake, she went into attack mode to begin with, but as soon as she realised it was Ben and looked into his eyes, in that moment something shifted. There was a connection between them, a spark that ignited a passion deep inside of her that she had never felt before.

Ben backed away from her as she regained her senses and breathing pattern. He stood in her doorway, staring at her. "Why don't you take a picture it will last longer" she shouted out at him making him laugh loudly. "What's so fucking funny Ben, You never seen someone having a nightmare before" she shouts at him, getting up from the bed ready to have yet another argument with the stubborn supe.

The air was thick with anticipation as Ben and Y/N exchanged smouldering glances across the room. What happened next surprised y/n. With only a couple of steps, Ben was right in front of her. His chest heaving as he tried to decide whether he wanted to fight her or kiss her. "What the fuck are you doing......." Before she could finish, his lips were attacking hers with a force that knocked her off her feet. His arms instinctively wrapped around her waist as she tried to fight the kiss. As much as she tried, she felt herself melting in his arms, kissing him back with as much force and passion he was giving to her.

The apartment became their steamy playground, each corner serving as a canvas for their passionate encounter. The living room became a shrine to their love, with every piece of furniture playing a role in their fiery dance. He practically threw her over the arm of the sofa, taking her from behind. Every drag of his cock sliding in and out of her pussy made her moan. Her walls pulsating and squeezing his penis tight.

After he finished with her on the sofa, y/n found herself pushed against the wall, her breath catching in her chest as Ben's hands roamed her body with urgency. His touch was electric, igniting a wildfire within her. She surrendered to him completely, allowing him to conquer her body in the most untamed ways. He grabbed her ass and lifted her up, her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, his erection thrusting into her hard and fast once again.

They moved them from one room to another, fuelled by a fierce hunger that knew no boundaries. The kitchen countertops bore witness to their unbridled passion, as ingredients and utensils were forgotten in favour of more sensual indulgences. Y/n took Ben in her mouth, sucking and licking the underside of his dick, taking him fully in her mouth almost gagging as he thrust deep into her throat, making his cum shoot down her esophagus.

The bathroom became a sanctuary of pleasure, steam masking their fervent exclamations. Water cascaded over their entwined bodies as they abandoned themselves to a raw desire, their moans echoing through the apartment like a symphony of ecstasy. Ben sunk to his knees, his face buried deep in her pussy, licking and sucking at her clit, his tongue plunging into her core.

With the bedroom as their final destination, their union intensified. The sheets twisted beneath their weight as they moved with a primal rhythm. The room became an arena for their love, sweat-slicked bodies colliding in a chorus of gasps and cries. With one final thrust and an orgasm that he thought would nearly kill her, Ben collapsed beside y/n. He looked over at y/n noticing the satiated look on her face "well, you've surprised me doll, didn't think you'd be able to take all of what I just did to you. I'm impressed" he said quite smugly.

Y/n rolled her eyes at him. She got out of the bed and tied her robe around herself "I see Butcher didn't tell you everything about me then" she said whilst not looking at him. Ben quirked an eyebrow at her as she turned round to face him. "I'm just like you Ben, I'm a supe". Ben shot up in the bed and crawled over to the side y/n was standing grabbing her waist "well yeah he kinda failed to mention that. Why didn't you tell me". He seemed annoyed and a little angry. Y/n's hand caressed his cheek pulling him in for a kiss "well you know now".

He pulled her back onto the bed and hovered over her "so, what's your super power then" he asked as he nipped at her neck and collarbone, "let's just say, I'm very, very flexible" Ben's head shot up to look at her face, a small smirk playing on her lips. "How flexible are we talking" he asked with a look on his face that gave y/n shivers "oh honey, you could bend me like a pretzel and it wouldn't hurt me" Ben growled at that comment and was ripping the robe from her body "shall we put it to the test then". For the rest of the night and into the early hours of the morning Ben had had y/n in every imaginable position he could think of.

TAGLIST: @k-slla @cevansbaby-dove @kaleldobrev @janineb86 @deans-daydream @alternativeprincess94 @nescavaneck @angelbabyyy99 @deadlydivergentgirl

#jensen ackles #jackles #jensen ross ackles #soldier boy #soldier boy fic #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy smut #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy fan fic #soldier boy fanfic

[k-slla]

With You At Last

A/N: so I wrote this last night after work. I just had one song on repeat for the whole day and for some reason it made me think of Ben.

Song used for inspiration

Word Count : ~690

Pairing : Soldier Boy x Supe!Reader

Warnings: angst, language

All mistakes are mine. Feedback is appreciated 🤍

My Masterlist

You were there in Nicaragua, in 1984. You were there when Ben was taken from you. You were there when he was betrayed by your own team.

Actually, you couldn't say that they were your team, considering how Edgar kept you fighting from the sidelines, not putting you on the team. He did admit that you were and had always been very useful to them; you just didn't have…a certain appearance to be part of the official Payback team.

Those were his words to Ben, when he tried to get you on the team, to fight beside him. And as answer to Ben's boldness to question him and threaten to bring you to limelight, he spitefully coerced him to date the Countess for the tabloids. For showing his attitude.

And that fucking hurt. Seeing him with her on the covers of every magazine. Knowing that behind the closed doors he was yours, didn't help at all.

You knew that simple bullets couldn’t hurt him, but then again you didn’t know what could. So when you saw Ben being dragged away from the field, you assumed the absolute worst.

Everything around you collapsed. You were kneeling on the ground, completely shattered as you saw the rest of the team fleeing from the scene, clearly unbothered by the loss of their leader. All but Swatto, but even his death meant nothing to them, as long as they got rid of Soldier Boy. Or so at least it seemed to you.

Ben always hated the fact that you were kept in secrecy. He hated that you couldn't get the recognition that you deserved, just based on your looks.

"Who the fuck cares about our looks? " He had tried to reason with Edgar, who still wouldn’t budge, even after admitting your value to the team.

You had the power to manipulate people's perception. You were present on every battlefield beside Payback, helping them in the most useful ways with your ability. While Payback attacked, you deprived them from their physical awareness, so Ben and others could fight them without getting injured. To him, you were the one who made Payback’s conquests possible.

Ben honestly didn’t know what the fuck had happened that day. Everything went to shit in a split second. Mallory’s base was under attack and you were nowhere to be seen. And then there was nothing.

Until he woke up, restrained to some table, and about to be experimented on. For almost 40 years they held him there.

And all that kept him borderline sane during that time was you. And planning the payback for his former team. But all that was secondary next to you.

He had never thought that he’d ever find someone who would make him want to have something meaningful in his life. Something real. Something that no one would be able to take away from him. He just wanted you.

He wasn't even sure how he was capable of loving you as much as he did. He never received any love or affection from his father. Ben was abandoned, and had been alone since childhood. But he knew he loved you, otherwise he would have forgotten you. Otherwise he would’ve already given up on everything.

He waited for the day he’d finally be free. He knew it was coming and he’d be ready for that.

Still, his hope had started to waver, and he lost himself to loneliness. Hopelessness of seeing you ever again started to take power over his love for you in his mind. And he couldn't fight back to it.

After years of imprisonment and torture, Ben was certain that they had managed to kill him somehow. Or that he’d finally lost his sanity. He wasn't even sure which he would've preferred.

The air was knocked out of him when he saw you standing there in front of him. Even when you held him in your arms after all the years of being separated, he had a hard time believing that it was real. One kiss from you was all it took to convince him. It was real. You were real.

Finally, you had found him and he was not alone.

Taglist: @jackles010378 @cevansbaby-dove @deanwinchestersgirl87 @il0vebeingdelulu @alternativeprincess94

#soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy imagine #soldier boy fic #ben x reader #x reader #x you #ben x you #jensen ackles #jensen ross ackles #the boys #the boys fanfic #the boys one shot #Spotify

[zepskies]

Break Me Down - Part 8

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: Thank you guys so much for all the wonderful feedback on the last chapter! It made my week. 🥰 I truly thrive on hearing back from all of you — it gives me the fuel I need to finish this story!

(And it's rapidly becoming a beast lol.)

Word Count: 6,000 Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, mentions of past domestic abuse/trauma, PTSD, hurt/comfort, fluff, and a (small) cliffhanger.  

Part 8: Something In the Way…

It was three more rounds before he finally let you sleep. 

Or rather, you couldn’t help but drift off. Ben had said he would help you sleep, and in his words, a promise is a fucking promise.

After you’d scarcely recovered from the first round, he’d taken you from behind in your bed. You’d repaid the favor by dropping to your knees for him in the shower, after which he’d propped you up against the bathroom counter and ate you out with his talented tongue until you really did see fucking stars. 

But he’d gotten what he wanted; your voice reverberated his name off the bathroom walls with superior acoustics…  

And when you next woke up, to your surprise, Ben was still there. He was sitting up against the headboard and watching a nearly silent TV while he smoked a blunt.

“What time is it?” you muttered. 

“Around 6 a.m.,” he replied.

For God’s sake. He had to be tired by now. 

You rubbed at your bleary eyes and turned onto your side. For a moment, you just stared at his profile, wondering what the hell you were going to do if Butcher and the rest of your team actually found you. 

“Go back to sleep,” Ben said. He glanced over at you after blowing some smoke. A smirk started to curve his lips. “Thought you’d be knocked out until noon.” 

You too, if you were honest. Your insides felt like warm jelly. 

“What keeps you up if even last night can’t tire you out?” you asked. Ben didn’t answer you. He faced the TV again and took a long drag of his blunt.

Slowly you sat up, wincing at the soreness in your muscles, in your legs, arms, and between your thighs. Your entire body felt like a bag of stones, but it was a good ache. A thoroughly sated one.

You managed to sit up next to him and reach over to lay a tentative hand on his chest. It was warm, even with the ceiling fan and AC on full blast above you. He briefly looked down at your hand, then at your face. 

“What’s it really like?” you asked, before your inner filter could catch up with your brain. “The new power the Russians gave you.”

His expression changed from relaxed to tightening around the edges. 

“They didn’t give me anything,” he said, puffing away. 

You read between the lines of that statement, surprised that he was even that honest about what he went through in Siberia.

They carved it into him, you realized. Like a wound he couldn’t heal from. Without wanting to, you remembered the CIA files you’d studied about his imprisonment. 

“Did it hurt?” you asked, moving your hand down to the center of his chest. The corner of Ben’s mouth twitched humorlessly. 

“Nothing fucking hurts me,” he said. His voice was flat, and matter-of-fact. But he didn’t even look at you. 

Maybe he didn’t want you to catch the lie in his eyes. But as curious as you were, you didn’t want to push too hard. Not for the first time since you got here, you realized that you weren’t really sure what you were doing. 

During the day, the two of you had your own lives. You swam in the pool, trained yourself in the gym, and read in the garden. You played cards with Loco and Saul when they had time for a break (from whatever it was Soldier Boy had them doing). 

And over dinner one evening, Frank even told you that his daughter was fifteen going on sixteen, and sweet as pie, but she could get an attitude real quick.

“You remind me of her sometimes,” Frank remarked.

You scoffed. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Frank’s answer was merely a wry raise of his brow. 

You just rolled your eyes and carved into your steak. Simone’s cooking was in rare form tonight.

And at night, Ben invaded your room like it was his own.

You couldn’t help but let him in, and into your bed. You were frankly surprised that he hadn’t gotten bored of you now that he’d gotten what he wanted. 

But apparently, he felt the same way as you…that one taste was just not enough. 

Like now, while the radio played on the nightstand. And he had you naked and writhing beneath him on the bed. 

One of his hands rested below your ribs, holding you down while his head was caged between your thighs. Your knees were squeezing his head like a grape, but of course, all he felt was encouraged.

Your moans were getting higher, more keening as his tongue worked inside your hot core. Meanwhile, his thumb circled and pressed at your clit relentlessly.  

Your grip threatened to pull out a chunk of his hair, your leg wrapping tighter around his neck. “Ben…goddamn it…”

“A little busy right now, sweetheart,” he teased, taking a beat to nip hard at the inside of your thigh. It had you bucking against his chin with a gasp. His gaze raised up to yours, dark and filled with desire between your legs. Sweaty locks of his brown hair were falling over his brow. 

Though you were panting for breath, you managed to sweep his hair away from his dewy forehead. His eyes traced the path of your hand, but he stared back up at you again. 

“Tell me what you want while I’m still feeling generous,” he demanded. Two of his fingers found their way into your entrance, a placeholder for his mouth. “I’ll fucking finish you just like this, have you coming apart on my tongue—”

You were surprised he was giving you a choice at first. But you saw his intentions in his eyes—he wanted to fill you up regardless. His dick was straining hard against your thigh, and your core was pulsing with need anyway.

“Want you inside me,” you panted, though not without a cheeky smile of your own. “Almost as much as you wanna be in me.”

Ben smirked and wiped at his mouth and chin. “Yeah, fucking right. You know how hard you’re squeezing my goddamn fingers right now?”

He twisted said fingers inside you, making you utter a strangled sound. His smirk deepened, but he withdrew them just long enough to line himself into your entrance and slide right in, with little resistance as he bottomed out.

You clung to his shoulders as you shuddered at being entirely filled to the brim. You still weren’t used to that feeling—of being consumed from the inside out. 

“Jesus fuck,” he muttered, “so fucking tight.” 

You squeezed around his hips with your legs, digging your heels into his ass. Your hold was desperate, but Ben just braced himself above you.

“For god’s sake,” you blurted. “What’re you waiting for?”

Even he was breathing harder now, maybe more from restraint than exertion. His smirk was devilish though. “What’s the magic word, baby doll?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?” 

Ben rocked against you a little, but not enough to give you what you wanted. Just enough to drive you insane. On some level, you had to admire his restraint.

“Fucking say it,” he said, his gaze firming. “Unless you want me to leave that pretty pussy on fire.”

You had a hard time believing that one, considering he was the one who couldn’t seem to go twenty-four hours without getting some. But you were just desperate enough in this moment to oblige his demands. 

You hooked a hand behind his neck and pulled him down to crash your lips into his. You licked into his mouth and bit sensuously on his bottom lip. He rumbled a deep, pleased sound that you felt in your chest.

And you felt his hand spanning the small of your back. Your fingers once again dove into his hair. 

Eventually you spoke against his lips, “Please. I fucking need you…”

His lips twitched in satisfaction. But he read the sheer wanting in your eyes, and the bit of vulnerability in your voice. Like you hadn’t been taken apart quite like this before. Or maybe it had really been that long for you. 

Whatever it was, this seemed to matter to you. The way you responded to his every touch, the way you demanded from him, was incredibly fucking hot.

So he was more than willing to help you make up for lost time. 

Ben licked his already wet lips and guided you back down. He actually put his all into fucking you. Not only were you the hottest piece of ass he’d had in a long time, but it was a point of pride for him. 

He wanted to be the only one you remembered—the one who’d turned you inside out and made you forget that you were supposed to hate him. 

Because yeah, he was that fucking good. And you were worth the effort. 

He held you tight enough to bruise as your release hit you in waves, sending hot tingles all over your body and making you freaking light-headed. Your tightening inner walls around his cock brought him along with you, and he spilled into you with a straining grunt. 

Once he’d pulled out and slid onto the bed next to you, an exhausted sigh fell from between your lips. But Ben turned to you with an almost boyish grin. 

“You mentioned something about the new Bond movie,” he said. 

You blinked at him, for a moment uncomprehending. Then you had to laugh. “Yeah, I said that an hour ago. Then you all but tackled me onto the bed.” 

He shrugged and turned on your TV. 

“Put it on while I wash up,” he said, tossing you the remote. You had a feeling it was because he still hadn’t gotten the hang of the apps on smart TVs. You sent him a narrowed look, but you found Skyfall on Netflix. 

“It’s not new, exactly. New to you, maybe,” you quipped. 

“I already know it’s not gonna be as good as Connery, but I’ll give this British asshole a try,” he said from inside the bathroom.  

“You will, huh?” you asked with a grin. “Didn’t think you were into that sort of thing.”

“What?” 

He finally came back out, still buck naked, and returned to your side on the bed. He gave you a quirking brow. 

“Never mind,” you said with a chuckle. You went to the bathroom to clean yourself up too, then dragged on a large shirt over a pair of underwear. By the time you returned to the bed, Ben had gotten a bowl of popcorn and, of course, a large blunt.

You knew he was self-medicating. According to Butcher and Hughie, the guy had been suffering from PTSD big time…well, you hadn’t needed them to tell you that.

Even though your interactions with him before now had been somewhat limited, you knew that he couldn’t sleep. He boozed and drugged hard, from what you’d seen of his hangovers in the morning. 

The rest of it, he tried to keep a tight lid on. A byproduct of the bygone “never share your honest man feelings” era. Butcher was another one. But you were perceptive enough to see that Ben was hiding.

You were still curious though; still wanted to know what it was he hid behind stoicism and lust.  And what then?

“I’ll give Hollywood one thing. The stunts and effects are fucking incredible now,” Ben said. He was glued to the car chase on the TV screen. He was almost like a little kid, his eyes lighting up with every explosion and seemingly impossible move James Bond made to evade his enemies.

It had been a while since you’d seen this movie, but then it dawned on you that there was a certain erotic-ish scene between Bond and the villain, Raoul Silva, that you weren't sure of how Ben would react.

You shook your head. Another consequence of him being from a much different time, along with his outdated views on gender roles, among other things. 

No matter how frustrating he could be, you reminded yourself of the night he helped you cook. And the night he saved you. 

He could change, you reasoned. Maybe. With the proper motivation—

A shootout with a machine gun on the screen jolted you a bit, interrupting your thoughts. You reached over to the bowl of popcorn in Ben’s lap and grabbed a handful. But when you heard his breathing shallow, you glanced at him and frowned in concern. 

His gaze was on the TV, but his eyes were glazed over, slightly dilated. He was sitting very still, and he looked pale. 

“Ben,” you tried, with a tentative hand on his bare chest. His skin was hot to the touch, and clammy with sweat. 

“Hmm, what?” He turned his head towards you, but you he wasn’t really hearing you. His gaze ran through you, and above your head.

“Ben,” you said, more firmly. You kneeled next to him, grabbing his shoulder for leverage, and grabbed his face to turn it towards you. He blinked down at you. 

Your name fell from his lips, almost like a question. He wasn’t able to focus on you though. You called his name again and took his face with both hands. 

“Wherever you are in your mind right now, you’re here with me. Stay with me!” You raised your voice. His skin was getting really hot. 

You gasped and had to let go of him when it threatened to burn you.  

His chest started to glow and hum. Your eyes widened, and finally, so did his. 

Ben pushed you away from him and knocked you clean off the bed. He managed to angle himself with his chest upwards, just in time for the nuclear power in his chest to carve a huge hole into the ceiling, through the entire roof of the mansion, and up into the sky. 

Afterwards, Ben slumped, taking in ragged breaths and wiping sweat from his face. But then his eyes widened with realization. He looked over and saw you prone on the floor. 

He slid off the bed and went to you, dropping a knee at your side and reaching a hand to your cheek. He called your name once, then twice. When you didn’t wake up, his hand hesitated, then moved to feel your pulse. 

He felt it thrum beneath the pads of his fingers. You were alive, just knocked the fuck out for a bit…

So he eased you into his arms and slid your hair away from your face, unwilling to admit, even to himself, that he was worried. 

Not until you roused in his arms did he let out a subtle, relieved breath.

He gave you a crooked smile. “Hey, sweetheart.”

You groaned. “What the hell…”

Your beautiful eyes opened and met his. 

“You with me?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” though you winced at a nod. Your gaze shifted behind him and a soft gasp fell from your lips. Ben glanced over his shoulder, and the two of you looked up at the giant hole in the ceiling that was letting the bright glow of the moon into your bedroom. 

There was a mess of debris and wood and plaster all over the room. Even you and Ben were covered in a fine layer of it. He was avoiding your gaze now.

But you couldn’t find it in yourself to be mad at him. 

You just sighed and offered him a smile.

“At least now I have a window in here,” you joked. “Was getting stuffy as hell."

That night, you slept in his room. You practically drowned in his large, plush bed that smelled like his cologne and aftershave. 

Though you hoped he didn’t expect you to stay here from now on. As much as you were starting to like him (and you still didn’t want to admit that fact), there were times when you needed your privacy. 

By the time you woke and started your day, however, Ben led you to a new room. It was bigger, with nicer furnishings, including a king-sized bed instead of a queen. It was bigger than your entire apartment back home in New York.

“Wow,” you said, turning to him with a smile. “Thank you.”

Though at that point, you knew Stockholm syndrome was real. 

Ben shrugged, returning your smile a bit. “Got twenty more of these. No big deal.”

“Right.” You raised a brow, then turned to survey your surroundings with your hands on your hips.

He’d insisted on carrying all your things himself (likely due to an old-fashioned sense of machismo-backed chivalry), even though the room was on the same floor as your old one. It was much closer to his, you noticed.  

Then you felt his hands snaking down your sides from behind, molding to the curve of your waist. You felt the warmth of his chest through his clothing as he pressed against your back. 

“Time to break it in,” he said, with the deepening turn of his voice that too often made your insides quiver and melt into goo. 

“Do you ever get tired of fucking?” you quipped. Though it lost its effect somewhat when you leaned against him, all too willing. 

Ben chuckled into your ear. “Take it as a fucking compliment, sweetheart. Your pussy is the sweetest I’ve had since before I went under.”

That made you pause. You turned in his arms and looked up at his face with a challenging brow. You wondered if he was just sweet-talking you (his version of it, anyway), or if he really meant that shit. 

“Don’t believe me?” he asked. 

“You’ve been plowing through hookers and escorts for months. Professionals,” you pointed out. “You don’t have to lie to me just to butter me up.”

“Why the fuck would I lie about some stupid shit like that?” he retorted. You frowned at him.

“Because it’s not stupid,” you said.

You pushed his hands from you and turned away, but he held you fast by your wrist, pulling you back toward him. You frowned in annoyance at his manhandling.

“What’s the real reason you hadn’t fucked anyone in three years?” he asked. Though it was more a demand than a question. 

“Why’re you so hung up on that?” you asked. “It’s no big deal.”

“Why are you so shocked by what I said?” he countered. He was giving you a choice: answer one question, or the other. 

You let out a frustrated breath and waved your arms in exasperation.  

“I was busy, okay?” you said. “Vought had me on tough hours and shitty details. I didn’t have time for a life.”

And after the things you’d seen, you didn’t much feel like interacting with people, be they supes or normal humans. 

“That’s not the real reason,” Ben said. His fingers held your chin so you couldn’t look away. In the deep green of his eyes, you saw the same curiosity that plagued you.

Maybe…maybe if you gave him an inch, he’d give you one. 

Metaphorically speaking.

“I didn’t like who I was,” you confessed at last. “I just…I don’t know. Nothing felt right back then. It just took me a while to finally do something about it.” 

He seemed to consider that, and you.

You took the opportunity of his distraction to extricate yourself from his grip, and you ventured further into your new room. Your eyes lit up when you found an old record player sitting on a dresser, and a basket full of vinyl on the floor next to it. 

“Wow, seriously retro,” you said with a chuckle. But you knelt down and started flipping through the collection. Ben followed you. With his arms crossed, he looked over your shoulder at the record you fished out. Abbey Road by the Beatles, 1969. You placed the record and set the needle at a specific song.

The drums kicked off into a familiar electric guitar melody. Then John Lennon’s voice echoed through the room. 

“Something in the way she moves, attracts me like no other lover…”

Nostalgia flooded through both of you, albeit for different reasons. For you, it reminded you of your grandpa (on your mother’s side). He’d dedicated this song, “Something,” to your grandma on their 50th anniversary. He’d made sure you played it again a year later, at her funeral. 

Meanwhile, this song always reminded Ben of fingerfucking Farrah Fawcett at a Beatles concert. Ah, the ‘70s. A wild fucking time.

“Good choice,” he remarked. 

You flashed him a smile. 

And with a sigh, you turned to sit against the dresser while the record played. You pat the ground next to you, and while Ben looked reluctant, he eventually sat down beside you. It seemed he had nothing better to do.

“I dabbled in music myself, you know?” he told you, with a smug raise of his brow. “Had a few hits on the charts.”

You grinned in amusement. “Yeah, I had to muck through every one of your cheesy-ass music videos.”

“Hey, every one of those fucking singles were gold.” He shot you an indignant look. “What, had to?”

“When I was researching you,” you said with a chuckle. He raised a brow at that. 

“Oh, yeah?” He rubbed a hand over his beard and met you with a critical eye. “What else did you dig into?” 

You met his eyes, and you knew he had some idea of what you were thinking. 

Ben let out a breath through his nose, craving some reefer. 

“Ah. That, huh?” he said. After a moment to gather your courage, you took a breath.

“Ben—”

“It’s not worth fucking talking about,” he said, a bit of grit edging in his voice. 

“It is if you’re still blowing craters into ceilings, Ben,” you replied sharply. “Do you even remember what happened yesterday?”

His steely silence was all you needed to know. 

“Look, I’ve gone through some shit too,” you said. “But forty years? …I know I’ll never completely understand what you went through, but—”

“You don’t have a fucking clue,” he said. His eyes were sharp, but also guarded. 

You couldn’t help it. The footage you watched was playing inside your mind in perfect scenes. You remembered the sound of his desperation, his struggle. And it had been all-too familiar to you.

“Maybe,” you agreed. “But I do get having shit that flashes behind your eyes, like a bad movie. Things you can’t forget. Things that won’t even do you the mercy of letting you sleep.”

Ben was reluctant to meet your eyes, as if even that small thing would be an admission of weakness. But when he did, you knew he would see a kindred spirit.

“Things that clog up the works,” you continued. You wet your dry lips, swallowing past a tendril of nerves. “And things that should be easy get…complicated. Like watching a movie, or…”

You had to take in a somewhat shaking breath, turning your face away. 

It allowed Ben to look at you a fraction softer. His mind was able to flash away from some of the past, to a more recent memory: the first time you’d pulled him into your room and let him into your bed. 

You’d pleasantly surprised him a few times that night, but there was one moment where he hadn’t known what to do next. 

When he saw panic instead of pleasure take over, and however briefly, he’d wondered if he truly was the monster everyone seemed to think he was.

So now, Ben couldn’t help but reach out to you. The back of his hand touched your neck. Your eyes widened a fraction when his thumb brushed down the column of your throat. 

“What happened to you?” he finally asked. He seemed more than just curious. There was more behind his eyes, and enough earnestness for you to consider trusting him with this part of you…

But still, you were reluctant to give him that big of an inch. 

“It’s only fair,” he pointed out. “The CIA gave you the full low down on me.”

Once again, you sighed. Can’t argue with fair. 

You rested you head back against the wooden dresser as “Oh! Darling” started to play from the record. Now didn’t feel like a particularly good time for a doo-wop, but such was your reality.

“I told you about my dad, right?” you said. Ben inclined his head.

“Something about the family business.”

You nodded. “He trained me. How to read people, how to fight…but he was the first one we had to defend ourselves from.”

Ben considered that with a deepening frown. He’d had an idea this story was going that way, but hearing you come out and say it (even without really being able to say it) just made him angry. His hands clenched into fists where they rested at his sides, on the ground. Until something you said called his attention.

“We?” he repeated. You nodded again. 

“My mom, and my younger sister,” you said, with a tremulous breath. “He was a drunken bastard for most of my childhood. I was about thirteen when he put my mom in the hospital, and it was…bad.” 

You swallowed past a lump of emotion in your throat—mostly at the guilt. If it hadn’t been for you, and your weakness, your mom wouldn’t have needed to intervene. She wouldn’t have had to try to protect you…

“From there, my grandparents got us out of that house,” you said, with a suspect sniff. “Mom finally divorced him.”

Unfortunately, the story didn’t end there.

By the time you were in high school, your father had gotten through his court-ordered rehab and managed to get his life back together. He built his P.I. firm back up, and by all appearances, he seemed to turn his life around. 

He convinced your mother of it enough that she let you work for him after school.

You hadn’t wanted to, but your father had a way of manipulating you too. He reminded you that your grades were shit (I fucking wonder why?). You had little chance of making it to college, so at least he could teach you a trade. 

“I’ll even pay you,” he’d said. And you’d taken the bait. 

He’d been unrelenting in your training, as he was in most respects. As a former Marine, he was rigid in his discipline, demanding perfection from you. 

However, when he felt his lessons weren’t being drilled into your head, he reinforced them with his calloused hands. 

And when Vought came to him, offering him a contract, he negotiated one for you too, without even asking if that was what you wanted. But you went along with it…until you couldn’t anymore.

“I finally broke contact with him when I left to join Supe Affairs,” you finished, quickly wiping a tear from your cheek. You glanced over at your captive audience with slight hesitation.

Ben looked stoic on the surface, calm even. But you didn’t know that it had taken every cell of self-restraint in him to stay quiet. Your red, shining eyes, the way you’d had to stop a few times to collect yourself—it all grated on him in the worst way. 

“Christ on a cross,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his mouth and chin. “Why the fuck did you work with him?” 

“I told you. I was a kid—”

“No, I mean when he got the fucking deal from Vought,” he said tersely. “You could’ve split. Found yourself a husband, got your own life. Why the fuck would you sell yourself out like that?”

Your lips pursed. “First of all, I don’t need a husband to have my own life. Second, I’m not the only one here who worked for Vought.”

Ben huffed. He wanted to call you a fucking idiot. He wanted to say, See? This is why you need a real fucking man in your life. 

But with daddy issues this bad, you’d probably fuck that up too. 

“Answer the goddamn question,” he said instead, though none too gently. 

You gave him a soft glare. Didn’t he realize how hard it was for you to say all of this aloud, let alone confide in him?

But now that he did know, maybe he’d be more likely to open up to you. You would be able to understand him better, and maybe…maybe one day, you could convince him to let you go. 

So you felt you had no choice but to answer his real question. 

Why the fuck did you follow your father to Vought?

The truth was, that man had a way of getting into your head, living in your skin, and making it crawl.

“He’s a manipulative bastard,” you said. 

He knew how to work you, just like your mom. And your mother was…well, damaged. You knew you couldn’t rule yourself out of that one either. 

However, the thought did spark your own curiosity. 

“What were your parents like?” you asked. 

The question seemed to surprise him. His frustration with you melted into a more uncertain frown. You bumped his shoulder with yours.

“Come on. It’s only fair,” you teased. A smile lifted his lips, but his eyes became rueful.

“She was a good woman,” he replied, speaking of his mother. “Quiet maybe, unlike you.”

You smiled in amusement at that. 

“But elegant,” Ben said. The softening edges of his smile told you volumes.

“She didn’t grow up with much, so when she married my father, she learned how to live in his world," he said. "But she still cooked and cleaned and pretty much ran the house, even though we had people to do that shit.”

“How did she meet your dad?” you asked. You knew his father’s family was from old money. He’d inherited his empire from his father before him.

Ben glanced at you. “She sang at this club…a nice one though, not some fucking dive. She wasn’t the star or anything, but my father noticed her. Said she was the only one who could pull off red lipstick without looking like a whore.”

That made you roll your eyes, which provoked an amused grin out of Ben.

“Charming,” you remarked. It must’ve really upset the old apple cart when his father married his mother. You wondered how she’d felt about Ben becoming Soldier Boy…

“Doesn’t sound familiar?” he asked. "Pretty girl in red, croonin' for a bunch of assholes in a musty fucking club?"

At first, you were confused.

And then, you realized the reason for his not-so-subtle grin. With an incredulous blush, you supposed that you and Ben had met in much the same way as his parents. 

Well, that’s not creepy at all, said the more rational part of your brain.

…Or maybe, weirdly romantic, whispered the other part. The part that had probably caved after you watched Ben try and fail to chop onions for the first time.  

“What was your favorite thing about her?” you asked. 

“You know, all my pictures of her are in black in white…I don’t even remember what color her eyes were,” he admitted. “But I remember her voice. Smooth as warm butter. She’d hum with the radio whenever she cooked. If Dad wasn’t there, she’d belt out a tune or two. I’d sit in the kitchen and watch.”

Imagining that scene made you smile softly. 

“Her captive audience,” you teased. Ben took it with a quirk of his mouth. 

“What about your dad?” you asked. He turned to you with a knowing look. You both knew what the man had thought of Ben. But you wanted to hear it in his own words.

“My father was a stern man,” he said. The softness was gone, and your smile fell. “This kind of larger-than-life force when I was a kid… Of course, when I became a man, he didn’t consider me worth the fucking effort. Not even when I became a hero, and everybody in the fucking world knew my name, he couldn’t admit that I’d fucking surpassed him.”

You sighed. More than anyone, you understood the underlying resentment in Ben’s tone. The kind of young recklessness that pushed him into becoming Soldier Boy, trying to prove his father wrong. 

“He thought you cut corners to do it. And while he wasn’t wrong,” you said, as gentle as possible. You held your ground when Ben looked sharply at you. “You didn’t deserve to be ignored either.”

Ben scoffed at that, as if he didn’t give two shits one way or the other. You knew better. 

So the two of you kept talking, sitting there on the floor long after the record finished. You traded stories and bickered as you often did.

But when you managed make him laugh, genuine, hand-on-chest, and almost boyish, you had to try and stem off a blush as you felt a pleasant flutter in your belly.

“It’s been two fucking months since you lost him in Colombia, and what do you have to show for it?” Grace Mallory said into the screen of her cell phone. FaceTime was only glitching slightly, at least. 

On the other side of the looking glass, Butcher was annoyed.

“He’s like a coil of smoke,” he said. “Pulled a motherfucking Houdini act. I have half a mind to think he’s gettin’ some help. Other than the ex-military cunts he recruited on the road.” 

Grace thought for a moment. “Give me five minutes.”

Butcher hung up before she did. With a purse of her lips, she searched for another number in her contacts. Some personal assistant answered the line.

“Get me Stan Edgar,” she said. 

“Well, he’s actually in a meeting right now—”

“Now,” Grace snapped. “Unless you want a CIA squad storming the tower for withholding evidence.”

In less than thirty seconds, Stan’s familiar monotone greeted her.

“Good afternoon, Grace,” he said. “How can I help you?”

“You fucked up, Stan,” she replied, resting back in her office chair. “This doesn’t bode well for you.”

“To what matter are you referring?”

“You know exactly what. I’m going to ask you this once,” she said. “If I don’t get a straight fucking answer, I’ll have no other recourse but to rake through your records all over again. And we both remember how pleasant that was.”

“We’ve done nothing but comply with the government’s demands.”

“Right,” Grace scoffed. “Listen to me. If I find out that you’ve withheld information about Soldier Boy’s location—or even so far as helping him evade my grasp—I will dig so far up your ass, you won’t be able to fucking breathe.”

There was a pause on the other line. 

Eventually, however, the little toad spoke. 

“You’ll have the coordinates shortly.”

Grace’s mouth curved with a grim smile, and she hung up. 

Meanwhile, in his office at Vought Tower, Stan sighed and turned to his Chief of Security, Jon.

“Should we send them the comprehensive list of Soldier Boy’s safe houses?” he asked.

“No. Just the one in Colombia,” Stan said. “But Jonathan, it is time for our contingency plan.”

Jon met Stan’s gaze with a nod. 

“I’ll give the order.”

AN: 😬 Welp, things are going to start getting bumpy from here lol.

Next Time:

His frown deepened the moment he saw you, which you didn’t quite understand.

“Ben,” you said, even though it was an effort to do so. Every breath was like a hot knife cutting deeper into your side.

Your eyes closed at the pain, and at tears that burned down your cheeks. It also cut through the brain fog enough for you to realize this was bad.

It was very bad.

Keep Reading: PART 9

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @pallographsunspot @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @syrma-sensei @muhahaha303 @123passwort @xoxovienna @magnificentnightmarehadi @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @yvonneeeee @fckinel

@secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022 @waters-2567 @emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow @buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @karnellius @kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun @lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2 @spnfamily-j2 @redqueenoffalconcrest

#something in the way #soldier boy #the boys #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #the boys season 3 #soldier boy/ben x reader #the boys au #enemies to lovers #frenemies to lovers #private investigator!reader #the boys amazon #soldier boy fic #soldier boy smut #break me down #Part 8 #zepskies writes

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters fluctuate between past and present, beginning in 1934. SPOILERS FOR THE BOYS S3

Chapter 1: You Shouldn't Have Answered the Door

Chapter 2: Late Night Visitor

Chapter 3: Summer Has to End Someday

Chapter 4: It's My Party and I'll Eat Cake If I Want To

Chapter 5: The Man, The Myth, The Legend

Chapter 6: Batter Up

Chapter 7: Are We Old Friends Or Old Enemies?

Chapter 8: Jealousy Doesn't Look Good On Anybody Except...

Chapter 9: Wedding Bells or Gong of Destruction?

Chapter 10: How Did It End Up Like This?

Chapter 11: I Can't Think With You Yelling At Me!

Chapter 12: My Heart Is Beating For You Constantly

Chapter 13: You Made A Plaything Out of Romance

Chapter 14: You're All I'm Dreaming Of

Chapter 15: Coming Soon!

Last Updated: 04/24/2024

***************************************

If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series let me know :)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303 @deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs @bughill126, @simplyfixated @sleepjam, @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts,@onlyangel-444 @lov3vivian @mxltifxnd0m @mayafatimakhan @marvel-mistress @my-obsession-spn @lifeonawhim @soldirboy @liuope @brynanna

(Photos on mood board from Pinterest)

#jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x female reader #the boys fanfic #the boys series #soldier boy #soldier boy fanfiction #the boys amazon #jensen ackles #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy fic #the boys season 3 #jackles #billy butcher #homelander #hughie campbell #the boys #the boys s3

[syrma-sensei]

→ Home.

gif credit.

pairing: soldier boy/ben x wife!reader.

rating: fluff, implied smut.

warning: bens's pov, very soft ben, implied pregnant sex, praising, horny reader, antiquated mentality....

word count: 2.4k

summary: ben's discovering new life affairs while expecting his first baby.

tagging: @zepskies

→ masterlist | ao3

Soldier Boy guzzled down his third raw drink before he decided to call it a day and go home. He took off his supe gear and changed into more casual clothes in the dressing room in his quarters at Vought's tower after he took a quick shower. He shook his head with a sneer when he tugged the shirt above his head, remembering her telling him —bossing him— that he wasn't to come home stinking with blood and cigars and whiskey and Vought. Soldier Boy didn't take shit from anyone, but he found himself helpless against her wishes—orders. He was grinning though, amusedly so. Sometimes he wondered where his obedient and good wife went. He liked that version of her, nonetheless.

Though he liked to think that his baby was igniting her wild spirit, his pretty wife seemed to have gotten quite sensitive to strong scents, and her stomach grew weak ever since he got her pregnant with their first child four months ago. It was chiselled in his mind; the memory of her hoping onto his chest with happy shrieks when he returned from work affirming the news.

He had been sensing the baby's presence for a week thanks to his superhuman senses before that, and he'd told her that night to go check on it with a doctor. They were eagerly trying to have a baby so it was of no surprise, but it still pulled a huge smile on his lips and made pride swell in his chest. He was going to be a father in nine months. The thing he wanted to be the most.

But as it turned out, pregnancy wasn't as magical as his mind fantasised to be. It wasn't all fuzzy and beautiful like he imagined. He cursed the damn commercials for that. Fucking marketing.

The first couple of months were rough. Morning sickness, vomiting, ungodly cravings at ungodly hours, horrendous mood swings, and worst of all; minimum intimacy. She'd become fragile unlike her nature. And she got overly concerned that he might hurt the baby whenever he suggested penetrative sex. Orals were, certainly, out of the equation. It was both frustrating and maddening to say the least. He was a fucking man and had needs. The best he could get was quick and not so enthusiastic handies from time to time when she could provide. Long story short, he was growing blue balls from the ordeal. Fuck, he used to make fun of men who couldn't get laid properly. The irony had such an impact on his ego; his pride of being a fucking man.

It was not easy for someone like him to stay faithful to his partner. He rarely recognised commitment before he met her, and being surrounded by blatant temptations all the time didn't make things any better. He could have anyone at any time, ladies would eagerly kneel and suck him off without a question if he wanted them to. But he'd be damned if he wasn't in charge of his own self. He'd be damned if he dared to break her heart. He'd be damned if he ruined his family, a family he never thought he'd ever have, for such vagaries.

In time, however, pregnancy did prove itself to be the most beautiful of all affairs. Surprisingly so. Whenever he spooned her up hugging her from behind, he found odd tranquillity of hearing hers and the babe's rhythmical heartbeats, or when he caressed her bumping tummy, feeling his child's life forming inside of her body, a creature they both made, lack of sex seemed to be durable and trivial at some point. Something he himself wouldn't believe before. But here he was. His disgust and appal from what pregnancy entailed gradually dissipated and were replaced with zeal and thrill. And most certainly, he enjoyed the changes of her body the most. Ben just loved the way her boobs were swelling up with milk, and the way her stomach was flourishing with his child. Boob massage was something he greatly took pleasure in. Kneading her sore breasts while hearing her moans of relief. He'd come to learn that intimacy could be found in many other things than sex.

Ben noticed he'd come to hating every moment he spent away from them. His temper got much worse, his teammates observed. And he became more aggressive than he already was when fighting crime. The happiest moment of his day was when he dropped the shield and took the helmet off to head home, where his beautiful wife would be eagerly waiting to have dinner with him even though most of the nights he'd come home and find her dozing off on the couch where she'd been waiting for him. He'd carry her to their bedroom and have dinner by himself — he skipped that very often — then slip right behind her on the bed holding her close to his body. The concept of coming back home to someone was so much alluring to him. He felt his life was complete. Real.

Ben arrived at their penthouse, assuming he'd find her soundly sleeping while she stayed awaiting him. He didn't announce his return loudly as he used to do before the pregnancy. He didn't want to wake her up. But much to his surprise — and delight, Ben found the place dimly lit with scented candles, sensuous silence prevailing within the air.

Ben's eyes glimmered, and an instant wolfish grin slipped into his lips when his eyes landed on his wife's figure as she clambered down the stairs. A thin, short gown with a raunchy red colour hugged her frame, its fabric was so thin that he could see her skin glowing through the red. Her breasts were full, putting her cleavage on more display. Whereas the bump of her belly was deliciously visible. Her hair was neatly styled and spruced up and her pretty face was elegantly painted with make-up.

“Welcome home, Ben,” She warbled with a smile, eyes filled with sultry desire as she strolled down to him. He was dazzled by her appearance, he was practically eating her with his eyes. Fuck, pregnancy did make her much prettier. “Hope you didn't have dinner yet 'cause I made you something special tonight.”

Her palm grazed his stubbled cheek. Ben leaned into her touch, pressing a gentle kiss to her palm, a grin gracing his mouth. “'Course I didn't. Why the fuck would I eat outside when I have a capable wife like you at home?”

She giggled gleefully at his statement as he pulled her flush against his body. He eyed her with a hazed gaze. Her mouth was luring him in, deliciously so. He liked that lipstick shade on her lips so much. He couldn't but to give in to the utter temptation. Ben tilted his head down and captured them in a burning kiss. An instant moan escaped her throat as his mouth passionately pressed to hers. Her arms encircled his neck, hands combing through his brown hair. He synced their heads for a better angle, and deepened the kiss, tongue slipping into her warm mouth. His hands brushed her sides then her ass.

He broke the kiss momentarily and she gasped vehemently. He could hear the rapid pace of her heart and the gushing blood through her vein, pooling down in her groin. He crushed her lips again, hands travelling up to remove the dress but she squealed and pulled back.

“Benjamin, dinner's gonna get cold!” She laughed again when he buried his face in her neck, kissing her skin softly.

“Is that really what you're fucking concerned about now?” He grumbles in a teasing tone.

She giggled, “Should I be concerned about something else—woah!” Ben grabbed her hips and lifted her effortlessly, heading to the living room with her pretty legs around his hips. His lips plundering hers again all the way until they reached the couch where he sat with her straddling his lap. The kiss went wild once they settled comfortably on the couch. His big hands stroked her thighs ardently. They trailed up to her ass giving it a firm squeeze and she moaned in his mouth, plucking the rim of her satin panties. He smirked into the kiss, fingers tracing down to her core. His grin widened when he met her bare cunt.

“Oh, baby,” He rasps when she rolls her hips slowly, pressing her cunt on his clothed cock, “Aren't you a pretty fucking tease?” He tugged at the lip of the crotchless panties, a mischievous grin playing on his mouth.

She guffawed with a coquettish tilt of her head, and his cock twitched in an immediate response. However, the innocent look on her face opposed the tortuous pace of her hips. She was fucking tantalising him with those hips. And he fucking liked it despite the screaming urge growing in his chest to flip her over and fuck her raw. Oh, she did like it rough, the little slut. She liked to be beneath him and beg him to go harder and faster, to yank her hair and make her choke on his dick. She loved how he manhandled her with his superhuman strength despite being only a human, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't take great pleasure in it too. Ben's nothing if doesn't live to be in charge. He'd been shocked that a tiny woman like her could handle him as such. But he was quick to remember that she was with his fucking child. He couldn't go rough on her like he used to do even if they both craved it.

She didn't stop her torment as her delicate hands rested on his shoulders for support. He could smell the sweet scent of her arousal soaking his crotch and he growled, “Holy fuck, you gonna let me fuck that pretty pussy of yours, or you planning on making me cream my pants?”

Her lips twisted wickedly, “Depends,”

“On fucking what?” He grunted, brows furrowed, puzzled. He was way too hard and drunk by her scent to clearly think or read between her lines, “Baby, you're fucking killing me here.”

“Aw, am I to seal the greatest era of America's history?” She giggled again, “What an honour.”

Then it clicked. The fucking slut. She was tempting him to ravish her. Maybe he should, but again, he worried about her and the child. Because honestly, he wasn't so sure if he could restrain himself if he unbridled that side of his.

Then his mouth splitted in a huge grin, brushing his cheek to hers to grumble in her ear, “The only honour you're gonna get is milking my cock empty in that slutty pussy of yours.” He chuckled triumphantly when he sensed her shivering in delight. Leaning his head backward, he saw her chewing on her lower lip adorably with a cute pinkish red dusting across her face, whereas her eyes were searing with covetousness. Ben pecked her nose and lifted her up again, gently. She trilled a series of choppy laughters and playfully kicked her legs when he carried her to their bedroom.

Needless to say, she took whatever honour he bestowed upon her like a champ.

He was craving a whiff of a cigar. He used to smoke after a good fuck in bed, she'd even share him a couple of drags sometimes. But since it was off the table — temporarily — he focused on and enjoyed her fingers running on his chest.

Fuck, pregnant sex did feel amazing. He gotta admit. He did hear from here and there that a woman with child, at some point of her pregnancy, would be touched by sudden and high libidinousness. But fuck, didn't that catch him off guard. And fuck, if he didn't enjoy it down to the last minute detail. And dare he say, it was the best sex he ever had. It was perfect; she was perfect.

Never did he think that he'd find home, his real home in a simple elementary school teacher he met on one of his tours throughout the country. A beautiful and smart woman who always kept him on his toes and had him wrapped around her pretty fingers.

Ben smiled and kissed the crown of her head, and slowly, it turned into a trail of kisses down her face. Then he captured her lips, and soon enough, they were engaging in a heated make-out session.

“Ben,” She whispered as she gazed at him, voice a bit hoarse from screaming and crying beneath him for hours.

His hand was rubbing circles on her ass languidly, “What is it, dollface?” He drawls with a thick voice.

“Sorry for not being a good wife for you the last couple of months.” She said meekly, bringing his hands to cradle them in hers, while he just frowned at her words, “They were tough times on me, on us.” She sighed, pressing light kisses on his rough hands, “But everything's gonna be set right again, I promise.”

Ben's frown only got deeper when he noticed the lick of fear and desperation in her eyes and voice. Fuck, she was scared shitless. Fuck, fuck, fuck. His wife was scared if he was screwing around on her because of her lack of attention due to the pregnancy, for she used to shower him with doting and devotion as a good wife did. Fuck, did he, by any mean, do anything wrong to arise such qualms in her? He certainly did not. Then he fucking remembered that nasty reputation of his that proceeded him.

Fuck, gotta reassure her and chill her the fuck down. He can't have her in such a position. He can't have his home in such a precarious, dark place. Not after what the two of them had done to build what they had up. He wouldn't allow it.

“Hey,” He passed rough-padded thumbs under the lines of her eyes, palms caressing her cheeks, “Nothing went fucking wrong to set back right, sweetheart,” Then he gave her belly tender strokes, “You're an amazing wife,”

She was; everyday she woke up, five in the morning, to prepare him a delicious-ass breakfast. She took it upon herself to be his barber and shaved his beard almost everyday and trimmed his hair every now and then. She was patient when he wasn't. She embraced him when he was practically a walking ticking bomb. She patched him up — when needed — at night when he'd return to her roughed up from fighting crimes. She soothed him down when frustrated and angry. She took his bad temper and relieved it thoroughly. She was everything. She was home.

Ben's finger flicked her nose playfully, “As I'm fucking sure yer gonna be an amazing hot momma,”

Ah, here it was, the sheepish smile that reached her eyes. He'd fucking cherish it forever.

He kissed her forehead, “You're perfect; my perfect wife, my perfect home.”

#soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy fic #soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy smut #soldier boy x fem reader #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy x you #soldier boy imagine #the boys smut #the boys imagine #the boys soldier boy

[tom-whore-dleston]

Denial and Devotion

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x f. reader

Word Count: 880

This fic contains: preludes to smut, implied smut, amnesia, mentions of squirting and fingering, reader was a Soldier Boy fangirl (like me fr xD), toxic celebrity culture?

Summary: You are in denial that you slept with the Supe you used to crush on.

Notes: I'm just a girl that writes Soldier Boy fanfic at 2am knowing damn well I have work at 9am flksdghk this gif replays in my brain every waking moment of the day I literally hate how hot he is >:( This is my weekly contribution to @flashfictionfridayofficial’s prompt no. 241: Hour of Denial

The moment you rose from your slumber, you knew something was wrong. First off, you woke up in a room that you did not recognize. Then, you realized the cotton sheets of the unfamiliar bed clung close to your bare skin as if you had slept in it before. 

You attempted to lift yourself out the bed, but your muscles were weak, soreness more prominent in your hips and thighs. As you winced in discomfort, your eyes widened upon the discolored love bites scattered over your body. Your eyes finally glanced to the opposite side of the bed, only to discover the person occupying it was none other than Soldier Boy.

When you were younger, Soldier Boy was your first crush. At the time, he was presumed dead, but your father would tell you stories about how he was one of the greatest superheroes to ever live. Your childhood room was covered in Soldier Boy posters and you had a doll of him that never left the box. As you got older, you conducted more research on the man you worshiped, but eventually learned that he was a monster in a superhero costume. As a result, you ripped the posters to shreds and finessed some cash off the doll in hopes to erase any trace of your Soldier Boy phase. 

You stared in disbelief at the same man that lay peacefully asleep. Your mind raced with questions. The only logical answer to all of them was that you were dreaming. To test the theory, you pinched your forearm as hard as you could. After cursing from the pain, you tried another method by poking Soldier Boy in his meaty bicep. Without fluttering his eyes open, he grunted in annoyance and rolled over. 

If your head wasn’t already spinning, it definitely was at this very moment. You slithered out of the bed, making sure not to disturb the sleeping man, and frantically searched for your clothes. In a hurried attempt, you shimmied back into your little black dress from the night before. Regardless of whether this was all a dream or not, you silently vowed that you are remaining sober for the rest of the month. 

“Where you going so fast, sweetheart?” You turned toward the groggy voice that belonged to Soldier Boy, who was propped up against the bed frame with his muscular torso in view. It felt as if no time had passed since the beginning stages of your devotion to Soldier Boy. Your eyes scanned over his physique with a hunger that only he could satisfy. Heat radiated your body and you stood paralyzed in your unzipped dress, leaving enough uncovered for his imagination to run wild.

As Soldier Boy hopped out of bed, you swiftly turned away as his thick cock unveiled from the thin sheets. He began walking towards you, but you ignored him by fiddling with the zipper on your back. You grew frustrated with the zipper’s defiance the closer the beefy supe inched towards you. His intense stare begged for your attention until he took matters into his own hands by lifting your chin up to his gaze. Your heart pounded against your chest as his green eyes studied your face. Except there was no studying necessary.

“I’m a little embarrassed by this,” you laughed nervously, “but I don’t remember anything from last night.”

Soldier Boy smirked. “Want me to give you a reminder?”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary.” You paused. You may not have been as infatuated with the supe as much as you once were, but you didn’t want to come off as rude. “I mean…I’m sure last night was great but I shouldn’t impose-“

“Great? Well if you define squirting on my fingers and cock until you begged me to stop as great then maybe I gotta fuck you harder.” 

You were about to let out a moan, but quickly masked it with a sigh. Every part of you wanted to hate him but the ache in between your legs betrayed your voice of reason.

“You can play the ex-fangirl game all you want, but you and I know you never truly get over your first crush.” There wasn’t a more pathetic feeling than regressing back into that naive girl who treated a flawed superhero like a god. 

Suddenly, your back hit the wall and Soldier Boy towered over you, his arm the only thing keeping him from pressing you against the wall to grind into your core. His free hand hooked under the strap of your dress, slowly pulling it off your shoulder. As the dress pooled around your feet, he lightly kissed the crook of your neck, electricity coursing your blood as his beard pricked your skin.

His hot breath fanned over your ear. “There’s no need to deny me anymore, sweetheart. I’m here for you to worship and fulfill all your pretty little fantasies.”

Fuck it.

All your common sense flew out the window as you desperately smashed your lips against his. Gripping your wrists, he pinned you against the wall before grinding his semi hard cock against your wet pussy. 

Soldier Boy may have been the biggest pain in your ass, literally and figuratively, but he was right about you never fully recovering from your first crush.

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header credit: @saradika | divider credit: @firefly-in-darkness

#flash fiction friday #fff241 #soldier boy #the boys #the boys series #jensen ackles #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy smut #soldier boy fic #soldier boy fan fic #soldier boy imagine #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x female!reader #jensen ackles fic #jensen ackles fanfiction #the boys fanfic #the boys fic

[daughterofcain-67]

𝙾𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝙾𝚞𝚛 𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎 (𝚙𝚝.6)

(Soldier Boy x Female Reader)

(masterlist)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Butcher finally located Mindstorm and you decide that you’d take a back seat on this one, let Ben go on his own with the boys to get Mindstorm so he’d get one step closer to his goal. But what happens when America’s hero get’s his hands on you?

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THOSE WHO HAVE NOT SEEN THE SHOW!!! Based on S3E7. If you have not seen the episode I strongly encourage you to watch it so nothing will be spoiled for you. Again, not everything in this is executed quite like the show so it’s not accurate but the implication at the end of the episode is the same.

Several days went by and you realized you were in bed with Soldier Boy.

You glanced over and heard him sleeping so peacefully and you smiled before you gently turned on your side to admire his features. It had been nearly a week since Ben came back to your life and it still felt like it was a dream. After so many decades of being without him, you didn’t think you would ever get over the surrealism of it all.

With a cautious hand, you reached up and moved a stray hair away from his face, only to notice a smirk appear on his face.

“You’ve been up for a while.” He spoke, his voice low and raspy enough to make your stomach flip.

“I thought you were still sleeping.” You commented before you moved around and through your leg over his torso so now you were on top of Ben and he let out a chuckle as his hands went to your hips to keep you steady.

“You do tend to move a lot when you start to wake up.” Ben replied and you playfully rolled your eyes before you leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his lips.

When you were about to pull away, Ben placed a hand on the back of your neck to keep you there just for a moment longer. You smiled against his lips at his actions, then you placed a hand on his cheek. The kiss grew a little deeper but it was still tender and sweet. You loved these morning kisses with him more than you thought you would.

When you finally pulled away and looked at him, he smiled up at you. He didn’t exactly look pleased when you pulled away from the kiss sooner than he wanted.

“I’m going to go into town this morning. Need to pick up some groceries, sort of a way to thank Legend for letting us crash here unexpectedly.” You said.

“Can’t that wait?”

“It can, but we’ve been in this place for several days lying low and I need to get out for a bit.” You replied.

“Why don’t you let me go with you?”

“Because you’re sort of a wanted man by Homelander himself. And you need to be here when Butcher comes back and tells you and Hughie where to find Mindstorm.” You reminded, Ben rolled his eyes.

“They won’t find him before we come back.”

“Well even if they don’t, I still don’t want to take any chances. If you get caught you won’t be able to get the revenge you want and you won’t finish your goal.” You reminded and Ben grunted, his brows narrowing and you chuckled at how grumpy he could be sometimes when you were right about something.

You leaned down and pecked his lips once more before you got off of him.

“You know you can always send someone else to go get some groceries, like Hughie or something.” Ben said as he sat up, leaning his back against the headboard as the blankets fell from his bare chest. You haven’t gotten used to the sight even if the two of you have… entertained yourselves plenty the past several days.

You pulled on a pair of pants and you looked through some of the shirts you had before you decided on one of them, pulling it over your head and straightening it out, “I’m still going.”

You heard the way Ben sighed and you grinned a little before you put your shoes on and glanced over at him, “Is there anything you want while I’m gone?”

“I guess some Jack. Ran out sometime last night.” Ben replied and you nodded a little as you put on a jacket and grabbed your backpack.

“Be careful out there, will you? You’re so worried about me going out, but Homelander fought you too. You don’t know who might be looking for you.” Ben said, you nodded so he’d know you were heeding the caution.

“I’ll be back soon.” You promised before you walked out of the door.

You saw Hughie was in the living room drinking some coffee and he smiled at you, “Morning, Quake. Where are you off to?”

That name… it still felt weird when Hughie and Butcher called you that. You hadn’t used the supe name in so long, you had forgotten what it felt like.

“Just the store. Thought we could restock the house for Legend since we’ve kind of gone through a lot of his stuff.” You replied and Hughie chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah, I guess that’s fair. Do you want some company?”

“No thanks. You should be here with Soldier Boy whenever Butcher comes back and finds Mindstorm. How’s that coming along, by the way?” You asked.

“We found out Mindstorm’s not crazy. Just bipolar. So we’re checking some local pharmacies that are handing out that kind of medicine and we’re hoping to find one that’s close by one of the cabins we haven’t checked yet.” He answered.

“Sounds like you’re onto something. Your idea?” He nodded at the question.

“Nice one. I’m impressed.” You smiled, “Oh, before I leave, do you want anything from the store?”

“Not really. Think I’m good, but thanks for the offer.” Hughie insisted.

“Shoot me a text if you find Mindstorm before I come back. I just want to be in the loop, but you don’t have to wait for me to come back to head out. I know you and Butcher are a little pressed for time.” You said.

“Are you sure? I can always figure out some way to convince Butcher to stay a few extra minutes.”

“I’d rather Soldier Boy get a step closer to his goal so he can help you two end Homelander now than have to wait on a milk-run.” You insisted and Hughie nodded.

“Alright, if you say so. But what do I tell Soldier Boy?”

“Just tell him I’ll be here when you come back.” You replied before you placed your hand on the door handle, then you remembered something.

“Hey… tell Butcher to find some weed. Maybe that can help Ben not blow up any buildings. I think his PTSD is what’s causing him to lose that control.” You admitted.

“He has PTSD?”

“Wouldn’t you have it if you were poked and prodded and injected with shit you didn’t want then locked up for several decades?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’ll let him know and we’ll see if it helps.”

You nodded a little before you turned the doorknob and walked through the opened door so you could head out to the store.

You decided to go by foot since the store wasn’t too far from where you land the rest of your little group had been staying. It would do you some good to get some exercise after all. But when you noticed some tvs on the screen you saw a familiar face on the news.

“Starlight?” You muttered.

You saw the news station was playing her previous livestream and that was when you found out she quit The Seven. She was talking about how Homelander was lying to everyone and so was the whole industry. But the one thing that irked you the most what she was saying about Ben.

“Soldier Boy is back. I know I sound insane, but Soldier Boy does not care about protecting the country. He doesn’t care about protecting the people and he probably never did. Homelander is the same way. None of them care.”

Your jaw tightened when you heard her say that Soldier Boy didn’t care. You knew he was a flawed man, but this Annie January didn’t know a damned thing about Ben. To think, she was the one that taped the picture to your very front door. It’s funny just how quickly things can change.

But then you started to think.

Annie and Hughie were dating. They’ve broken up for whatever reason, you assumed it was because Hughie chose to stand by Butcher and Soldier Boy. M.M. you knew was out of the group, Butcher didn’t seem to know where he was but he said they didn’t exactly see eye-to-eye either. So what if, your gut was starting to tell you, what if MM and Starlight were working together?

What if they wanted Ben dead?

Your stomach was in knots at the thought of it all. You hoped you were imagining it and that you were reading too deeply into something. But you’ve been around long enough to know that this may not be something you’re over thinking. You didn’t have evidence to back it up, but you knew something wasn’t right.

Then you realized Annie was talking about how Homelander did something to Queen Maeve. You blinked at the screen and your mind instantly went to Ben. What all would they do to him if they found him again? Would they start to experiment on him and see what could kill him like they did in Russia?

Just as you were starting to change your mind about going to the store so you could go talk to Hughie, you realized something was thrown over your head and you were being carried off.

Well, flown off actually.

Homelander.

Ben was sitting on the mattress going through your chest of letters you had written to him over the years that he’s been away. He’s read about a dozen and it hadn’t even left a dent in your chest.

In the letters, he found more about your thoughts about technology and how a lot of things were changing. How much you didn’t like it and how much you knew he’d hate it. You were right, that he hated all these changes anyway. But he was adjusting for the most part.

He was smiling as he was reading one of your letters from the early 2000’s. 2004 specifically.

Dear Ben.

Nothing special has been going on today, I’ve just been thinking about you a lot. More than usual lately.

I’ve stopped writing those articles about how Vought is behind your disappearance. Not because I’ve lost the hope that you’re still alive, but because I’ve run into a wall. I can’t get past the lack of evidence. Mallory is supposed to help me, but I think she may have given up or she’d holding something back from me. I don’t know.

But I know that it’s getting harder for me to keep digging into your files. It gets harder for me to look at those files now because it just hurts to know that you’re gone.

Instead, I’ve just been listening to a lot of music and reading books. A lot of the music nowadays isn’t as good as what you and I are used to. But there is this one artist I’m beginning to like, and I know for a fact you’d make fun of me for it, but she’s really good. Celine Dion.

Now I know you wouldn’t like her, so I’d never force you to listen because her genre is most certainly not your taste. She’s nothing like Elvis Presley, Jerry Lewis, or even Teresa Brewer and Brenda Lee. Or even some of the classic rock bands you used to like in the seventies and early eighties before your…

Anyway, the closest sound she could have that you might recognize is maybe Cher? Not that you listened to her much. You may remember her from the seventies. But Celine Dion’s love songs are sweet.

I know, I know. You would be cringing and rolling your eyes at me if you end up reading this letter one day.

Anyways, one of her newest songs I’m really liking is called The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face.

Yeah, you may be cringing at the title too.

I know you and I didn’t get off on the right foot when we first met. You were kind of arrogant if I recall so you can’t exactly blame me. As much as I love you, you could be a pain in my neck. But the song talks about the first time she ever met her lover, then their first kisses. It’s sweet and sometimes I still think of the first time I realized I loved you.

It was December in 1976. I know, twenty years give or take nice we’ve met is a long time. But Vought was hosting some New Years Party. You and I had already been civil with each other for several years, since ‘54 really. So it’s not like you were as much of a pain then. But you and I were being friendly with each other, just having a conversation.

I have to admit, the previous two years before ‘76 I had already developed some sort of silly little crush on you. But that New Year Party, things changed.

You were in your uniform, naturally, but your helmet was off and everything. You looked incredibly handsome and I was always trying to catch little glimpses of you when I wasn’t talking to other supes, or Edgar, or whoever else was at that party. You were talking up some women, trying your hand at flirting with them and they were just flattering you I suppose because you didn’t exactly get anywhere. You seem to have bad luck with some women, well the ones you wanted to go after anyway.

I remember walking up to you and we started talking just about how far we’ve come since we ran into each other when Liberty wanted me to be introduced to Edgar, how nasty the first impressions were. We laughed about it when we thought about it. That year I noticed you skipped your little Herogasm thing, which was an odd thing for you to do and when I asked you about it, you acted like it wasn’t much of a big deal.

You said something about wanting something a little more intimate with someone. You just hadn’t found that one yet. I cannot tell you just how desperately I wanted to tell you then that I could be that one woman. But I encouraged you, knowing you wouldn’t give up that easily anyway. The right one was bound to be out there somewhere even if it wasn’t me, right?

You offered to buy me a drink and you and I went to Vought’s little bar and we started talking a bit more. You talked about how much you wanted a proper family. You told me about why you wanted to be a hero in the first place, how excited you were when you went back home, only to get a less than ideal reaction from family members. You told me you wanted kids one day, you wanted to be a better father than your old man was, and I knew you could be.

But I remember you sounding a little discouraged as you talked about it so we decided to go outside and get some fresh air. Little did we know that it was almost midnight. When we were outside we talked about where we thought our careers would go since it didn’t seem like either of us were out of our prime. Then before we knew it, people inside were cheering so loudly and we heard fireworks.

You looked down at me and smiled that smile which made my heart soar and you wished me a happy new year. Then you actually thanked me for being there your you, someone to listen to. I don’t know what was going through your head but I wondered if you were thinking about the part of the conversation when we talked about your family. It’s rare for you to open up like that, but before I could ask…. I remembered you kissing me.

Ben, that was the very first time you kissed me. I swear I thought the world stopped and time stood still. I wanted to stay in that moment forever, but Edgar pulled you aside to talk about something. So it was cut short. But I still think about that kiss to this day.

You and I never talked about it until you were already dating Crimson Countess and Payback was formed several years later, but I knew that New Year, that I loved you.

Alright… I guess that’s enough of the sweet stuff. I feel like I’m in some Danielle Steel novel just writing about this so I guess I should end this letter already.

I still miss you every day, Ben. You’re still my world.

Your Y/N.

Ben smiled fondly at the letter as he neatly folded it up before putting it int he envelope once more. He remembered that party all too well. He remembered skipping that Herogasm too, mostly because something hadn’t felt quite right that year. He was starting to develop something for you too back then, which was why he supposed he kissed you at the party.

You were his ideal partner in crime rather than Gunpowder, but he knew you’d never accept that role. He tried to move on because the two of you never talked about that first kiss. So now, Ben supposed that was why he had some sort of feelings for Crimson Countess before the two of you started having your secret affair, if you could even call it an affair since you never touched him when he dated Countess.

While he was reaching towards your chest to pull out another letter, the door opened. He glanced over and saw Butcher and Hughie there in the doorway.

“You got something for me?” Ben asked.

“We’ve found Mindstorm. Gear up so we can head out.” Butcher said.

“Quake’s not back yet. We need to wait for her.” Ben said as he got up from the bed.

“Actually, when she left this morning, she told me that she wanted us to get a head start. She said the sooner we get to Mindstorm the better off we’ll be.” Hughie summarized.

Ben was a little skeptical but he knew you would want him to go off as long as he was careful. He wished you could be there though, that way Ben would make sure nothing would happen to you.

“She said that she’ll be back by the time we come back.” Hughie continued.

Ben sighed a little as he looked over at his uniform that was neatly folded on the dresser, “Fine. Give me ten minutes.”

And with that, the three men headed off and after a while they made it to the supposed area Mindstorm was supposed to be.

“So, what is it exactly that we’re walking into?” Hughie asked as Butcher shut the trunk.

“The one thing you need to remember is don’t make any sort of eye contact with the paranoid fuck. And you’ll be good to go.” Ben replied as he lifted the cigarette to his lips. Surprisingly, he felt a little more mellowed out. Not by much though.

Anyway, when Ben started walking off he continued to smoke and he started to think about everything. He started to think about his team members and how each one of them betrayed him. He started to remember the way they’d always mumble to themselves and keep him out of whatever loop.

“Motherfuckers…” He muttered to himself before he looked over at the two he was traveling with, seeing that they were wrapping up whatever they were doing. Probably shooting themselves up with whatever green substance they had.

“You two ready to hit the road? We’re wasting fucking daylight.” He said and the two of them started walking behind him as Ben took off to find Mindstorm’s cabin.

As they were walking, Ben swore he heard the two of them talking the same way that his team did. But they denied ever saying anything.

What was going on with him? He could have sworn they said something. There was even a couple of times when he was alone in a room with you and he swore he heard something, and you would always have to tell him there was nothing there. He couldn’t be going crazy. He was supposed to be sharp at all times.

But now wasn’t the time to be having any doubts of his own sanity. They had a task to do, Ben had a name to cross off that way he could get back home to you. Well, not home, but it was close enough for the time being until this was all over.

As Ben was walking, trying to keep his thoughts collected, he felt something tugging at his ankle and when he looked down, he noticed a wire.

“Sonofa-“

Then there was an explosion, causing him to fly a couple feet away and summersault. As he tried to catch his breath and regain composure, he saw Mindstorm was already hovering over Butcher before slipping away.

“That sick freak.” Ben muttered and he walked over to Butcher as Hughie rushed over to try and wake him up.

“Butcher? Come on, wake up! Come on, Man, we have a job to do, wake up!” Hughie said and started trying to shake him awake.

“No use, Kid. He’s trapped in an endless nightmare.” Ben said, having seen Mindstorm’s work thousands of times over the years.

“We have to get him up somehow.”

“Mindstorm got him into that mess, and he can get him out. But Mindstorm’s about to be dead so-“

“Wait, what?! You’re willing just to let Butcher die just because you want to hurry up and kill him?” Hughie said and Ben lifted a brow. Did he not understand any concept of war at all? You lose people once in a while.

“Hey, the sooner we get Mindstorm dead, the sooner we can get Homelander’s head on a silver platter for you, remember? Now let’s fucking get moving.” Ben said.

“Well why can’t we get Mindstorm to wake Butcher and then you can kill him! You can go to town on him and do whatever you want to him, I don’t care what you do but we have to help Butcher.” Hughie rambled on and Ben rolled his eyes.

“Oh stop acting hysterical unless you want me to slap the ever-living fuck out of you.” Ben said and Hughie went quiet.

“Now, chin up, kid. A deal’s a deal and I’m still going to kill Homelander. Unless you want to end up like Butcher, you’ll buck up and come with me. Butcher would drop anything to kill Homelander in a heartbeat and we’re almost there anyway.” Ben continued.

Then Ben started walking off. When he stopped and glanced behind him and noticed Hughie was putting a bag underneath Butcher’s head. Ben rolled his eyes a little but he turned around and walked off so he could focus on finding the cabin.

Somebody had to keep their head on straight after all.

The bag was finally lifted from your head and you saw you were in a white room with some sort of thick wall of glass. Your feet were placed on the ground before you looked up at Homelander who had his hands on his hips.

“What do you want?” You asked, glaring at him.

“Just to ask you a few questions. Is that so wrong of me?”

“It is when you put a bag over my head and take me up in the air without my consent.” You seethed and Homelander shrugged it off before moving along with the conversation.

“You know Soldier Boy is a menace to society. You know that better than anyone. He killed all of those people at Herogasm.” Homelander told you and you didn’t like where this was heading. You had a bad feeling about this.

“Don’t look at me, you’re the one hiding everything from the public and playing it off as it’s some conspiracy in Starlight’s head.” You replied.

“Oh, well… you and I both know that’s just to prevent a panic amongst the crowd. He’s dangerous and we don’t want him to kill anymore people. So you’re going to tell us where he is, where he’s going.” Homelander said.

You could see some sort of darkness in Homelander’s once bright blue eyes. But you also saw the one thing he refused to show anyone. Fear.

“You’re scared.” You said with a smirk.

“What?”

“The infamous, brave and courageous Homelander is scared of his predecessor.” You replied with a chuckle.

“Predecessor? Well I’m not scared of him. I’m better than him. I’m the upgrade after all and there’s no way he can beat me.” He said and you could hear the way he was mostly trying to convince himself of that idea.

“Just because you can fly and you have laser vision, it doesn’t mean you are better than Soldier Boy.” You reminded and the hero glared at you before you continued to speak.

“Soldier Boy has faced much more than you could ever have imagined in your short lifetime. And what makes it even better? That’s not even considering his new abilities.” You said and Homelander lifted a brow.

“That’s right, boy. When Soldier Boy was in Russia, he ended up gaining more abilities. Those energy blasts? He couldn’t do that before. He’s killed many supes and rendered his survivors completely powerless. He can take your powers too, you know.” You said and you could see the fear increase.

“You’re lying. He can’t take powers away. That’s not possible.”

“Oh yes it is. He can take your abilities, everything that makes you special and so loved by the country. And he can make you just an ordinary, pathetic man that’s so starved for attention.” You seethed.

“Are you implying that I’m pathetic?” Homelander challenged and you stood your ground.

“Oh I’m not implying anything, I’m stating a fact. I think that deep down, you’re weak. You are nothing compared to the man that Soldier Boy is. And he is more powerful than ever. He’s unkillable, unbelievably strong, and he will kill anyone and anything that stands in the way of getting the revenge he wants, the revenge he deserves to take for himself after your people took him away.” You glared.

“You think we were behind him going away?”

“Oh sweetheart, I don’t think it. I know it.” You said and you crossed your arms over your chest.

“You’re nothing but just another conspiracy theorist who’s in love with a psychopathic, narcissistic murderer. He’s a mindless killing machine with PTSD and one day he could even turn on you.” Homelander said and tried to turn the tables and you rolled your eyes at the weak attempt.

“Say what you want, but deep down you know that I’m right. And I know that you’re not going to let me go. So I’ll sit here and wait.” You said and you took a seat in the corner of the white room.

“You’re taking this kidnapping surprisingly well…”

“Oh, well… That’s only because I know that Soldier Boy is almost done crossing the names off his personal kill list. I think he has one or two left. And you’re the last one on it. The one he’s saving his best for.” You said with a smirk.

“And when he finds out you’ve taken me? You’re going to be in a world of trouble.”

Homelander seemed to laugh in disbelief and he shook his head before he looked down at you while you sat there.

“I don’t know who you think you are, Quake. But no one respects you anymore. You’re nothing but a conspirator now who should have just stayed in the shadows believing that Soldier Boy died all those years ago. You would have been so much better off. Now tell me where the fuck Soldier Boy is.”

“I don’t know. I’m sure he’s left his hiding place by now to go somewhere else.” You replied.

Homelander’s gaze darkened once more and he pulled you up by the neck so you were no longer sitting down. You could feel your feet dangling from the ground and the air was starting to escape you, but you could tell Homelander wouldn’t kill you until he got what he wanted.

“Where the fuck is he headed?”

“Is that the best you can do? I’ve been through a hell of a lot worse. Ask Edgar. Oh wait - you were involved in getting him out of the picture.” You seethed.

That was when Homelander slung you around again and your back and head hit the wall. You knew you could use your power to bring this room down on Homelander’s head, but you knew you would need to save your energy, save whatever was left of your power.

You knew that with Butcher’s relentless desire for Homelander’s death, Ben would come for you. And you knew something was coming, and it was coming soon. You wanted to be ready for when that time would come.

Ben and Hughie continued to walk and Ben continued to smoke the weed cigarette he had.

“God, I can’t believe this shit is actually legal now. I’ve lost count of how many people I’ve arrested back in the day. Whose idea was this?” Ben asked.

“To… make it legal or bring it along?” Hughie asked, needing clarification.

“Oh don’t get smart with me.” Ben said and Hughie shrugged.

“California was the first state to make it legal in ‘96. Not all states say it’s legal though. But Quake said to bring it along for you to try it out and see if it helps you any.” Hughie continued.

“Huh… Wonder if she’s tried it.” Ben said but that was when he stopped walking and looked around then he looked at Hughie.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

“Literally nothing?” Hughie asked but Ben caught the way Hughie glanced behind him and Ben rolled his eyes.

“Christ on a cross, kid. You and Butcher are really attached at the dicks aren’t you?” Ben asked and he shook his head at how pathetic Hughie seemed to be.

“What? Look, why does everything you say have to be so disgusting? Do you talk to Quake like this?”

“Y/N has nothing to do with this. You and I are on a mission and we need to focus on the task at hand, alright? Butcher knows that, hell I bet even Y/N would know that and she’d probably tell you the same fucking thing.” Ben said, growing stern with the boy.

“Oh yeah? And when Y/N got herself hurt with Homelander after you killed those twins and all of those people, it’s perfectly okay for you to get her and make sure she was okay instead of leaving her behind exactly like you’re doing to Butcher?” Hughie questioned and Ben was starting to get ticked off, it was taking everything in him not to smack this kid around a few times.

“I know what Mindstorm is capable of and I know what Quake is capable of so I knew she’d be okay, and I know Butcher won’t be. So quit being so fucking naive, Kid, because you can’t save everyone. There’s not a fucking thing you can do about it sometimes.” Ben continued.

“You can’t save everyone.. right. But for some reason because you think it’s fair in your mind, you think you can save Quake and not save Butcher? You’re nothing but a hypocritical son of a-“

Hughie was interrupted by Ben punching Hughie in the mouth. Hughie clasped a hand over his mouth before he looked at his palm and saw he was bleeding and he looked up at Ben again, “What the fuck, Man?”

“I warned you not to be hysterical.” Ben said coldly before he walked off to continue the hunt for the cabin.

After a mishap with a nun and a priest which ended in the two of them taking bullet wounds to their heads, they finally made it.

Mindstorm’s cabin.

Ben thought he’d never get there. But he and Hughie continued to walk cautiously and Ben could hear the sound of the wind chimes. He wasn’t really surprised that he collected them. When Ben made it to a shed and he crowched down, he pulled out his gun and he glanced around carefully to keep an eye out for Mindstorm.

Ben finally caught a glimpse of him in one of the mirrors that was in the shed and he motioned for Hughie, who had been behind Ben, to take a look so he’d know where he was at too.

Then, Ben lifted his shield up and tried to calm the racing of his heart. He always felt some sort of adrenaline when it came to the battlefield. It was natural. He took in a deep breath before he quietly exhaled and lifted the gun, continuing to peer over the to of his shield as he slowly started to walk forward.

That was when things went wrong.

Ben heard something and looked behind him only to see a pile of clothes behind himself. When Ben turned to look at the mirror he saw that Hughie had taken Mindstorm and teleported.

Ben walked out and looked around to see if his eyes were deceiving him in the mirror, but there was no sign of Hughie or Mindstorm.

“Fuck!” He exclaimed with frustration but he knew exactly where the little runt was taking Ben’s target.

“Butcher…”

Ben rushed out of the cabin and started to retrace his steps back to Butcher’s body.

“Pansy-ass motherfucker. Can’t get the job done.” He muttered.

“Don’t smack him around, Ben, she said. You can’t get anything done like that, she said. Why I outta teach him a thing or two about war myself.” he rambled grumpily, remembering how you were telling him the other day that it was wrong of him to smack some common sense into his teammates like he used to as he made his way through the woods and backtracked.

Sooner or later, Ben found Hughie trying to negotiate with Mindstorm to get Butcher awake. He heard the way the little runt was talking shit about him, saying that he was full of shit and he wasn’t really that brave.

Fuck him.

Instead of interrupting, Ben waited to see if Mindstorm would actually take the deal Hughie was making. The next thing Ben knew, Butcher was awake.

“Alright, show’s over.” He muttered to himself as he grabbed one of his knives and he threw it at Mindstorm with such accuracy that he sometimes surprised himself and he could hear the screams and cries Mindstorm let out.

Ben rushed over, pulled the knife out of the man’s eye. After all, he may need that later. He tossed a bag over the man’s head so he’d avoid being trapped in his own nightmares as he tackled Mindstorm to the ground. He pinned the man down while Mindstorm was trying to fight him off, failing miserably.

Ben punched Mindstorm and he heard Hughie trying to convince him to stop. Ben stood up and without saying a word, he walked over to Hughie and punched the ever living shit out of him and sent him flying.Then, Ben saw the way Butcher stood up and saw the way his eyes were starting to glow.

Naturally, Ben wasn’t really phased by the threat Butcher was trying to make. Ben just wanted to get a point across before he went back to Mindstorm. He knelt over the man and grabbed him by the shirt.

“Hiya, Dan. Long time no see.” Ben said coldly.

“I’It wasn’t my idea. You have to believe me. Please, let me go, I’ll do anything!”

“Oh I know it wasn’t you. It was Noir. But who the fuck gave him the idea to stab me in the fucking back, huh? He can’t even take a fucking shit without Vought giving him the okay. Now spit it the fuck out!”

“Okay okay! They told him to! Vogelbaum had a-a-a replacement for you. T-They wanted you out of the picture. They said it was someone stronger than you. S-Someone who can e-even fly.”

When Mindstorm gave Ben more information, everything was starting to come to his recollection, how that could have happened. But that must’ve been impossible! There was no way something like this could have happened.

Trembling with so many emotions, thoughts, and adrenaline, Ben lifted his shield and started repeatedly smashing it against Dan. Over and over again he would beat him and blood was getting on his shield and on his uniform until there was no sign of life from the former supe. His entire skull was smashed in and you could even see his brain seeping through the bag that was over what once used to be his head.

After that, Ben quietly got up and walked past both Butcher and Hughie.

“Hey! What did he say?” Butcher asked, and Ben said nothing.

On the car ride, Ben was completely quiet.

A replacement… a son….

Homelander.

Ben had always wanted children, but this was never the way he had intended it to happen. He wanted to be the one to raise whatever children he had. He wanted children with you.

That very idea was all that kept him at peace when he was in Russia. Having a future with you in it, where you two could finally be alone in retirement, happy. You two could have a couple of boys that Ben could raise to be ideal men instead of what the country’s been raising nowadays. That was his happy place for all of those years.

He didn’t want it to be this way. He could have even given the mantle to his son, but instead Vought would have rather been cruel and shipped him off to Russia and kill him off like he was nothing.

He remembered the day Vought called him to go to the lab. Something about a genetic experiment. He was a fool to have gone in and listened. But he was a father in 1981 and he never knew about it. How the fuck could they have not told him?

And now Butcher expects him to turn around and kill his own son?

Things were growing more and more complicated and he needed someone to vent to. He couldn’t wait to get back to Legend’s and tell you everything.

Soon enough they made it back and Ben was expecting to find you there waiting for him. He really needed you to talk to, maybe you can help him figure out what to make of all of the news.

But something was off and everything was quiet in the house. Ben looked over at Hughie and Butcher, and they seemed to think things were a little off too.

“Y/N?” Ben called out for you and he started to go to the bedroom you’ve been staying in. You were nowhere to be found.

Several red flags were going up in Ben’s mind.

Black Noir was still out there and he was Ben’s last target. What if he got to you so he could get to Ben in a way? What if someone from Vought got a hold of you? He knew you would never leave him alone like everyone else in his life has, what if something serious happened to you.

Then his worst fears came into mind.

If Vought got you, what if they found the records from ‘83 and they were putting you through that kind of Hell all over again?

Ben walked out of the bedroom and saw Hughie and Butcher had just come in from the rest of the house.

“No sign of ‘er.” Butcher said.

“And you looked everywhere?” Ben said and both of them nodded.

“I don’t think she ever made it from the store.” Hughie admitted, remembering that was where you were headed that morning anyway.

Ben ran a hand through his hair. His mind was going everywhere and he looked at his shield. If anything happened to you because he had to get the revenge he wanted, he would never forgive himself.

He looked at both Butcher and Hughie again, “Get whatever the fuck the both of you need to get.”

“What?”

“We’re going to Vought and taking the fight to them.”

Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373 @nancymcl @jackles010378 @hobby27 @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @prettyinplaid94 @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @capricxnt @k-slla @david-tennant-obsessed-blog @deangirl96 @mimaria420 @ashdoctor @muhahaha303 @angelbabyyy99

#jensen ackles #soldier boy #soldier boy ff #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy jensen #soldier boy x you #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy fic #jensen ackles the boys #the boys #jensen the boys #the boys amazon

[theangelssing]

Good Morning

Ben being Ben, neutral!reader, Ben and Reader are engaged, third pov, spoiler free (only mention is soldier boy’s story)

warnings: physical touch (romantic way), fluff & soft mostly, domestic fluff

a/n: this imagine doesn’t take place during The Boys’ events, I just took Soldier Boy’s story and did the imagine, only based on the tv show! I wrote that one at midnight, sorry if there’s any error, please do tell me. as always, if you want more, feel free to ask!

prompt: what if Soldier Boy was free from the Russian by you a long time ago? You and Ben living an happy romantic life.

The sun was hitting through the open windows while the curtains were moving slowly because of the wind. It was a peaceful summer morning. The light woke you up. It was still early and you were still sleepy. The body against yours didn’t move when you tried to come closer, you just heard a grunt. You kissed one of your boyfriend’s cheek. Only after that you finally felt an arm around your own body, making you giggle.

Ben and you bought a cosy house far away from the city. You always wanted to live in a cottage and he made sure your dream comes true. You spent many months working together so the house could become your little nest. You were proud of you, and at the end of the renovations Ben asked you to be his spouse and you said yes without any doubts.

As a young engaged couple, you were always watching your ring a lot. Ben chose the perfect one. This morning didn’t escape your routine. You tried to remove your arm from Ben’s and you watched the little ring shining on your finger. It made you smile. You felt and saw Ben’s hand on yours, intertwining your fingers.

“Already awake sweetheart?” he asked while kissing your forehead.

“Mmhmmh,” you muttered.

A small smile appeared on his lips and he started to slowly stroke your hand with his. You really liked the cute Ben, you always liked everything about him, except his misogyny – even though he was doing his best to actually change the way he’s acting as he doesn’t live in 1940 anymore.

“What are you thinking about?” he wondered, as you were staring at your intertwined fingers without moving.

“I wish we could make breakfast together, today,” you replied while moving your head to meet his eyes. He was looking right at you, with his usual lovely morning expression.

“Right, what d’you wanna eat?”

You were kinda surprised he accepted that fast so you didn’t answered right away. You were too lost in his glance anyway.

“Baby? What do you want for breakfast?”

“I want some pancakes! Oh and can we make some cookies too?! Not for breakfast but i really want cookies. With orange juice. Or apple juice! Wait wait, with milk, it’s better with milk.”

You heard him laughing before kissing you.

“Sweetheart, you can eat whatever you want y’know,” he said then kissed your forehead for the second time this morning.

“I know but.. It’s breakfast..”

“Well, let’s have some pancakes with milk for breakfast then we do your cookies while drinking apple and orange juices.”

Oh how you loved this man. He was always there for you whatever you needed or wanted.

“Are you sure you want to make pancakes and cookies with me?” you asked, not so sure of you though.

“Of course, as long as it makes you happy,” he replied with his eyes in yours, the green meeting something deep in your soul, you could feel it.

You muttered a thank you and before being able to understand what was going on, you were in his arms and out of bed.

“Ben!” you yelled as he was holding you on his shoulder. He sure was laughing, proud of him, and you couldn’t help but laugh with him as he was heading to the kitchen.

“I’ll land your majesty on the counter, if that’s good for your majesty.” You just nodded as an answer.

He gave you a little squeeze on your thigh before you felt the wood under you.

“What do we do first?” he asked you.

“We find the ingredients, a bowl and a frypan.”

“Don’t move, I do it.”

You contained your laugh while watching him struggling to find everything. This poor man didn’t know his own kitchen that well.

“Want some help?”

“Uh.. No. You stay on the counter,” he replied, not so sure of himself.

After some minutes Ben finally found a bowl and a frypan. But he was clueless looking in the fridge.

“Do you even know what are the ingredients?” you finally asked him as he was closing the fridge’s door.

“Well.. I never made pancakes y’know..”

“That’s what I thought,” you laughed and get down off the counter. “Let me explain.”

Ben wasn’t the best, you knew about his past, but you were both in love with each other and nothing else mattered during those soft moments. You knew he still had a lot to learn if he wanted to fit in today’s society but you always promised to be there for him. Of course you also knew Soldier Boy would always be Soldier Boy, but for you he was Ben, the man who asked you to become his only spouse. He still was making mistakes but he was so careful with you.

#the boys series #the boys #the boys fanfic #the boys tv #the boys fandom #the boys fic #soldier boy fanfic #soldier boy #soldier boy fic #jensen ackles #fluff #soldier boy x reader #ben x reader #ben (soldier boy) #domestic fluff #soft fanfic #soft fic #soldier boy imagine #the boys imagine #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy x you #neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral fanfic #soft soldier boy #the boys season 3 #the boys s3

[waynes-multiverse]

Rehab – Series Masterlist

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F!Reader

Series Summary: Thanks to Soldier Boy, the CIA was able to develop Project Bloom under the fierce leadership of Grace Mallory: a final cure to Compound V and a hopeful end to the supe epidemic three years after the explosive incident at Vought. A secret rehab facility in Upstate New York is supposed to help former heroes find their way back to humanity. The catch, though? Soldier Boy has never fucking agreed to any of this shit and is surely not happy about being powerless for the first time in his goddamn long life.

Series Warnings: +18, enemies to friends to lovers (?), smut (a mix of rough, sweet, and dirty), tw: suicide attempt & sexual assault, violence, lots of drugs & drinking, strong language & derogatory terms, SB being his charming self at times, human!Soldier Boy aka soft!Ben, more warnings in individual chapters

A/N: Very excited to share this series with y’all! It’s a bit dark and rough in certain places while it’s hilarious and sweet in others. And weirdly, this series was inspired by MGK songs (see chapter titles). Don’t judge, tho. The lyrics and vibes fit, and I can’t control the muse, okay? 😝

Main Masterlist || Soldier Boy Masterlist

Prologue: rehab

Chapter 1: maybe

Chapter 2: papercuts

Chapter 3: why are you here

Chapter 4: 9 lives

Chapter 5: jawbreaker

Chapter 6: bad things

Chapter 7: make up sex

Chapter 8: sid & nancy

Epilogue: twin flame

C O M P L E T E

#rehab masterlist #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy series #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy fic #the boys fic #soldier boy fanfiction #the boys fanfiction #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy x you #soldier boy fanfic #soldier boy reader insert