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harrysonlylover · 1 year

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Carolina (Part 1)

Summary: Her return to town sparks his interest, why hasn’t he seen her before? And does starting off on the wrong foot hide their attraction to each other?

Trope: Cowboy! H

Word count: 10.3k

Warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption.

The west coast.

A place that citizens fawn over and pay their life savings to visit, some even manage the tiredness of flights and its jet lag just to see a glamorized land that is actually worthless.

She asks herself the same question everyday: “ How did I end up here?”. And every day she comes up with a new answer. For a while she was able to blame the whole planet and the Milky Way but later, she swallowed the hard truth and accepted that her fate was nothing but an influence.

Today she chooses to not think about , it is time to go home and despite it being a short period, she has learned to savor it in a memory that she revisits every morning and night.

The road is half empty as her feet rest against the dashboard, she can feel the northern wind pulling her in ,the farther they get away from Washington.

Oh, what a feeling.

Her friend Maggy is driving, allowing her to enjoy the leisure of doing nothing but enjoying the view as they pass through towns then back to Highways.

According to her all roads will eventually lead home.

Home is a farfetched idea for where they are heading, she isn’t exactly visiting her land, but anyplace in the North is home. Wide fields that stretch for acres of land, the friendly faces that can make a stranger find their roots, the animals that become family members, the fresh air and hard-working citizens that know each other since childhood.

There are many things that she can say about the North but afraid of never stopping she closes her eyes and raises the volume of the radio allowing ‘Edge of Seventeen’ by Stevie Nicks to play loudly.

She heads every month or two to Maggy’s hometown Great Falls in Montana, they have been best friends ever since they can remember. Maggy’s father is an old family friend and despite there being a long distance between the two states but they never missed visiting each other.

When she suggested studying at a university in Washington, Maggy’s jaw dropped to the floor, no one expected her to take that decision. But to be fair neither did she, yet what was she supposed to do when she had a fear of never doing something in her life or being stuck in one place.

Everyone spoke of the west coast’s glory, she had to see it herself, at least she wouldn’t regret any decisions later on.That was two years ago, now she dreads every class and every day spent in Washington. Give her a horse to ride, or a goat to care for, perhaps a dog to play with. Some beer while watching the sunset and sitting on the freshly mown grass, her family preparing dinner while her father and uncle quarrel on who makes the best gravy.

She has a week to spend in Montana before returning to Washington, she will learn to hold on to it before getting her BA in Fine Arts and fleeing away from that godforsaken place.

She wishes she can visit her homeland but it would be a waste of time as her entire family follows her up to Montana whenever she is there, they bring home to her, what else can she ask for?

“Home sweet home baby!” Maggy cheers as her car steps into the town’s entrance.

It is almost 4 in the afternoon but the day is still long, no hour is gone to waste in the North. She quickly puts on her brown leather cowboy boots and urges Maggy to stop the car.

“Where are you going, they’re waiting for us!”

“You go using your car, I’d rather walk all the way.” She gives Maggy no time to object before putting on her cowboy hat and running into the Lopez’s corn field.

Her hair is swaying with the wind, it is caressing her skin and cleansing any toxicity that she gained from living in an unpleasant place. She knows the field well after all everyone here is like her neighbor. The sun is out and about, forming a thin layer of sweat on her uncovered skin.

A smile is stuck on her lips as she walks around nearing the end of the field, another walk would not be a good idea as it is dinner time but maybe she’ll return in the evening with Maggy.

She can see the house clearly and begins to head towards it before a sound catches her attention. It is a horse’s hooves clicking against the ground, as far as she knows the Lopez’s do not have any horses.

The corns are tall and high and she is unable to spot it, what if he’s alone or worse.. injured.

She has no time to look, but she knows how to observe so she listens intently but it keeps getting nearer and nearer and nea-

“Hey girl watch out.” A man screams at her as a warning from the horse he’s riding.

He is late to alarm her but she is quick at ducking rapidly before the horse neighs and stands on his two hind legs, the man on its back holds on to him immediately avoiding a dangerous fall.

“Are you out of your mind?! You could have killed me.” She shouts at him as she stands up, removing some of the soil scattered against her skin. Luckily, she is intact but the edge of a fallen leave did graze her skin.

“Well I’m not the one strolling around in a corn field when I know it’s the easier route for workers to take. With horses might I add!” He stepped off the horse, caressing him gently as he scolded the foolish girl in front of him.

“Oh I’m sorry, how about I check your schedule next time?” She answers in a sarcastic tone at the man who she has never seen before.

Would it be bad to ogle a stranger that almost killed her?

He is wearing a cowboy hat just like her but it’s black instead, paired with his leather boots and low waist denims. She is trying really hard to recognize him but her memory fails her. He is shirtless and his skin is covered in tattoos, his abs are toned and are shining under the Northern sun that reflects the thin layer of sweat over a butterfly tattoo. His jeans are not enough to cover his V line or the tattoos peaking from his hips.

His biceps flex with every stretched movement he makes to pet the horse, his entire arms are also filled with tattoos. She is astonished to see a tatted cowboy, but hey there’s a first for everything.

“Oh you think you’re funny girl. Would ya be laughing right now if you were dead?” His northern accent isn’t very thick, but it is enough to show his anger. He was about to check if she is okay physically before she snapped at him and acted almighty.

“Seriously since when do you ride horses in an open field just to take an easier route, when you know that someone might be passing by.” Her tone is making him more furious by the second along with not recognizing her.

“Do not get sassy with me girl, it’s what we agreed on with the acceptance of field owners, even the cows know that.” He scoffed proudly getting back on his horse and fixing his cowboy hat. The black stallion seems to have calmed down a bit and is ready to be on the move.

“Don’t go around trying to get yourself killed, I don’t have all day to watch clumsy girls.” He tipped his cowboy hat and sped off on his horse in the direction he came from.

She can feel herself boiling with anger, and her entire body is dirty from the soil and corn dust, her hair has leaves in it and her hat gained a mini hole. She doesn’t even know who the hell that guy is but she is sure of one thing and one thing only.

No one talks to her that way at home.

She managed to sneak from the back of the house and climb up to Maggy’s window using a ladder that’s always placed in their ranch. She knocked continuously until her freaked out friend opened with a shriek.

“Why are you using the window and what the hell happened to you?”. She helped her get inside and closed the window again.

“Maggy do you know a guy with tattoos?”

She did not care less if her friend is worried about her. She must know who he is.

“W-what? What are you talking about and why are you covered in soil!” Maggy grabbed a towel for her and sprinted to the bathroom to prepare her a bath.

“He’s like shirtless with a butterfly tattoo on his abs and he has a black stalli-“

“Harry Styles.”

“I was walking in the Lopez’s field and then he jumps up on me with his horse out of nowhere and when I shout at him, he acts all smug. Doesn’t even apologise! And apparently the fields are a short route now!” She rants furiously as she paces around the room, aggressively getting a change of clothes and her shampoo from her duffle bag.

Maggy finally calms down after panicking about her friend, now she holds back a laughter fit knowing how Harry is. “First of all I told you about that decision but you were too busy watching The Office and Harry is nice, he’s my childhood friend.”

“Nice is a huge misunderstanding. He thinks he’s so cool, at least offer a sorry?! And he implied that I’m dumb.” Her body relaxes immediately in the ice-cold tub and the Pumpkin bath bomb melts quickly taking away her problems as well.

“Yeah well that’s Harry but once you get to know him he’s really sweet.” Maggy props up her change of clothes nearby and gives her another bath bomb.

“Plus if he’s your childhood friend how come I don’t know him? He didn’t recognize me too.” It is evident that she will not let it go, she hates unexplained situations and the whole ordeal will probably stay on her mind for a while.

“He left before you and I met, it’s quite funny now that I think about it, they were in Tennessee and visited rarely, they came back a while ago. The Styles’ are not to be messed with.”

“I really couldn’t care less, you should’ve seen the way he looked at me. That man is a dick.” She was scrubbing away the soil from her body with a local made loofah. The sun was beginning to set, and the view from the bathroom window facing the tub helped her nerves to calm down.

“Babe, let’s see what’s up later yeah? I’m starving.” It was as if the family knew of Maggy’s suggestion. The two girls overheard the bickering from downstairs about the mashed potatoes and gravy.

She loves home a lot.

The dining table was filled with homemade meals that feel like heaven after long months of Cafeteria lunches. The bath put her at ease and the pumpkin scent lingered around her skin, bringing home closer to her. Maggy’s father and grandmother hugged her tightly like their own as they welcomed her presence in their house.

Soon enough the obnoxious man faded from her mind and she found herself surrounded with loving people that make her heart burst.

“Literally we kept chasing him for a whole hour, I wouldn’t have been surprised if we reached Carolina!” Teddy, Maggy’s brother was telling the story of when his horse escaped and worried everyone.

“Ugh it’d be a shame if he reached Carolina, I would have had to come down there and bring him myself!” She joked, making everyone let out a laughter fit.

“As if you never returned for sillier excuses before.” Teddy replied making her shrug her shoulders like an innocent girl.

“But to be fair, we couldn’t have gotten him without The Styles’ help.” She dropped her spoon at Teddy’s remark and suddenly the gravy was no longer delightful.

“The Styles’ huh? How come I don’t know about them.” She ignored Maggy’s leg bump and continued to question everyone, despite them being clueless.

“Well I’m surprised you don’t. They own half of Montana and Tennessee.” Maggy’s father answered her between mouthfuls of Turkey.

“Harry Styles was the one who helped me get back Ray. He’s the State’s most famous bachelor and cowboy. He kept chasing Ray and reached him before us, then risked his life by standing in front of him but somehow, he managed to tame him. He’s a very talented man.” Teddy gave her a brief rundown on Harry and the more she learns about him the more she gets irritated.

“Oh how I love that cheeky boy.” Maggy’s grandmother mumbled as everyone around the table agreed.

And he’s loved by everyone. Isn’t it just great?

As the sun began to set, she found herself sitting near the barn with a bottle of beer in her hand, the scarlet colour of the sky reflected in her eyes as she fixed her sight on the burning clouds, even the baby goat in her lap was gazing upwards in awe, the shadow of the sun casted an orange paint against her skin. Just the same as the pumpkin bath bomb melting in the bath tub.

Maggy joined her with an enthusiastic smile, that told her all she needs to know. “I’m guessing Tim invited you for a drink?” She smirked at her friend before taking a sip from her beer.

“Invited us, so C’mon missy get dressed, everyone will be there. Time to get some threads loose.” Tim was Maggy’s crush, and she can tell it goes both ways. His family owns the town’s bar so whenever she’s around, her friend drags her there and honestly it’s not so bad.

“Only if you give me the hat you got from Missoula, that asshole ruined mine.” Her hand caressed the baby goat on her lap that is now dozing off to sleep.

“Oh my god, you are unbelievable. Fine whatever get dressed now.” Maggy groaned at her friend’s cheekiness as she knows that she’s after that hat.

“Oh what would I do without you!” She shouted to Maggy who was heading inside the house, her cheek got a bit sore from smiling and she gently wrapped the lamb in her arms, placing him inside before sipping the last drop from her bottle, thinking about what suits that amazing hat.

The Miller’s bar was packed just the right amount for her, she was able to spot friends and neighbours, familiar faces that put her at ease as she greets Tim. The smell of Whisky was lingering in the air, and the choice of songs was tasteful. She did not need guidance nor Maggy’s company, maybe she would’ve if they were back in Washington, but it is different here.

She got another beer bottle and conversed with an old friend as she stood in a corner, it could be just her tipsy mind or her confidence, but she can see how the girl is eyeing her up and down in a seductive way, and she knows exactly why.

She wore beige shorts that suit her tan and give her booty some acknowledgment along with her favourite white tank top that sits above a lace bralette, holding her cleavage perfectly. Her collarbone was prominent, and she smelled of pumpkins. Perhaps the hat is playing a role as well.

She decided to make a move after the girl got dangerously close but instead a commotion nearby interrupted the moment, she groaned internally knowing that Tim has kindly asked of her to keep her eyes around even though nothing ever happens, but isn’t it just her luck?

The sounds were coming from the other side of the bar where the Miller’s installed an electric bull machine as a monument, but what they didn’t expect is the town’s infatuation with it and their constant use of it. Some even had contests with bets and money involved, all was harmless of course and she hoped that is the case now as she headed there.

A group was gathered in front of the machine, and laughter was echoing around the room. She gently passed between them expecting a worst-case scenario and was instead met with the worst person.

The same man who embarrassed her in the field today and posed a risk to her physical safety was in front of her in all his glory, he was still in the same attire and shirtless, but he seems to have washed up and spent some time getting himself tipsy.

There doesn’t seem to be a contest but somehow he got everyone to gather around him and fix their attention on him. He was riding the bull at the highest speed, something that only real professionals can do, he is not completely conscious as well, no one is at a night in Montana.

His system seemed to work well as he acted the same way a non-tipsy man would. His ring clad hands were not holding on to the rope provided by the machine, instead his thin waist moved around along with the thrust of his hips as he stretched his arms wide as an affirmation and demand for the group to cheer.

Only insane people would not hold on to safety ropes at a high speed, but after her encounter with him, she’s not so sure she’ll ever consider him as sane. No one even acknowledged her presence despite being the princess of the town, not a glance in her direction.

His head was thrown back as he urged on the cheering more, his fingers were flexing in demand to raise the tone higher with a sly smirk on his face. One of the girls in the crowd threw a cowboy hat at him that he caught and placed smoothly on his head.

His continuous rutting against the machine, and hips’ roll allowed a boner to appear, and everyone cheered for him even more, his jeans tightened around his thighs due to the amount of weight and pressure he’s placing on his legs in order to balance.

He spotted her in the crowd, and she could’ve sworn that his smirk got bigger, he winked at her the first time, and when she crossed her arms over her chest with an angry expression on her face, he pointed at her and shouted.

“Hey clumsy girl, you should be careful from this bull coming alive and walking over you.” He was making an effort to speak, his voice overpowered by the music made a vein appear in his neck as he shouted loudly.

Despite no one knowing what he means, they laughed thinking it was some sort of joke which made her even angrier, she did not care anymore if the machine was on high speed or if it will actually come to life, she made her way near it and cut off its source of power.

He stumbled forward due to the sudden stop, and everyone murmured and went silent. He was caught off guard with her act, yet he raised his fist up in the air as his way of controlling the cheering that resumed.

He stepped off the bull smoothly and strolled in her direction, and she could see how tall he is, the cowboy hat was still on his head, with some of his curls peaking from beneath it.

“An eye for an eye girl? Fair. I’ll go find another riding activity.” He winked for the second time in a night, and the longer he stands in front of her the more she feels her blood boil.

“Yeah? I’m guessing you have a kink for throwing people off the bed.” She smirked back at him grabbing a new beer bottle.

“Only if they beg for it.” He leaned in and whispered in her ear, taking the bottle from her and having a long sip down his throat, before placing it back in her hand and walking away with a lazy stroll.

This is going to be a long week for her.

The field work waits for no one, ranchers are up from dawn ready for another day consisting of herding, saddling up the horses, checking on machinery, filling up hay wagons along with countless tasks that are no obstacle against Montana’s mighty cowboys.

There are days where the temperature rises rapidly bringing with it an unbearable heat, the same heat that distinguishes these beloved towns from other parts of the country.

She awoke with a fuzzy brain, having no energy to be angry or employ any type of emotion, today her parents would arrive and not being concentrated is the last thing she wants to be.

A simple breakfast skillet made her feel full and got her mind off things she doesn’t want to think about. She’s glad to have brought her sketching kit with her, so she tip toed around Maggy’s bedroom and fetched what she needed before heading out to the ranch.

The sunrise was a scene that she loved to sketch, a never old drawing that she will stack along with the other sunrise paintings she’s done before. And so she begins mixing all the colours varying from scarlet, fiery red, orange, golden yellow, baby blue, and a subtle white that only the delicate eye can catch.

She can’t tell for how long she sat down in front of her sketch; it could’ve been hours or an eternity, but what’s important is that she managed to lose herself in her art like she always did.

Teddy surprised her from behind making her yelp and clutch her hand at her chest, the young boy fell into a laughter fit as she gently pushed him around for scaring her.

“Can you pretty please help us?” He asked of her after calming down and wiping his tears that resulted from his intense laughter.

“You don’t deserve my help for what you did but maybe you can ask”. She rolled her eyes at him in a dramatic way sending a sly smile that tells him about her payback for his prank soon.

“It’s your vacation, so nothing serious. Take Ray and patrol the field, we’ve been experiencing burglars’ shit from out of town. They’ll just escape if they saw someone out there.” She nodded and packed up her kit, giving it to Teddy who was making funny faces at her.

She saddled up Ray and prepared a basket to pick some fresh onions and potatoes, she had planted them herself the last time she was here, and she believes it is time to see how pretty they have become.

The cowboy hat she ‘stole’ from Maggy is shielding her from the scorching heat that she does not mind. She’s a northern girl after all. On the way she hums a melody her mother used to sing for her back when she was a kid, it soothes her and has become another one of her distraction methods.

Ray appeared to be calm and she began to wonder what idiot Teddy did to let him escape a while ago, but if she thinks about it a bit more, her mind will take her to the man who rescued Ray so she begins humming again.

The field is quiet with no companion but the whistle of the wind, the torment of the sun and the steady soil beneath her. Her task is pretty easy compared to what she has done before so she continues patrolling, occasionally patting Ray’s back who seems to be enjoying their little walk.

She closes her eyes for a moment and allows the northern wind to consume her as she breathes in the scent of home coming from Carolina.

Harry had his head tipped back and eyes set towards the blue sky, it was an attempt at easing his hangover that he now regrets deeply. He is a responsible man, never late for work, and never reckless in matters related to his cowboy life outside of entertainment. He was by no means allowed to taint his family name.

What he did yesterday was nothing but some fun after a working day, his friends had lured him inside that bar when he knew damn well that he should be at home preparing for the day he is about to endure.

He loved a drink or two occasionally, but he loved the crowd and attention even more. Harry Styles is a sucker for the praise and acknowledgment of his neighbours, as well as tourists and strangers that he’ll never see again.

Speaking of strangers, her face has been stuck in his mind ever since he laid his eyes upon her soil covered body after their little incident. She felt like a force, making his way into his daily life, with no intentions but to lay in his daydreams and he’s not so fond of the idea.

Seeing her at the bar may have sobered him a bit, that pout on her lips and the dangerous anger reeking off her gorgeous body. Her boldness and fierceness made him light up on fire, he is yet to know who she is, but he must find out soon.

He sighs and balances his feet against the ground then remembers that his work today is in Maggy’s family field. Yesterday the girl was heading towards their house, it’s a long shot but he pushes it to the front of his mind and begins working.

The Northern sun provides no mercy, it penetrates one’s skin, passing through the blood vessels to sicken and weaken the body. How cursed is the sun but how pretty it shines. The residents of Montana welcomed it like their own, but Harry Styles was a different story. It is not evident whether he challenges the sun or loves it, perhaps both.

His Greek God like physique stood proudly against the temperature, salty sweat trickling down his always half naked body. His blessing of muscled biceps contracting with every push of his shovel or grip to the rope. He walks gracefully with his manly hands placed on his bony hips, examining the towns’ fields, any work done would require the strong clenching of his thick abs that feel like stone when pressed on. If you are lucky you’ll observe his back muscles that call for you to touch on.

The sun does not take it easy on him, in fact it envies him for his good looks but when it paints him with sweat, it helps him appear prettier, more angelic, it aids him to be known as Montana’s best cowboy. After all even the sun isn’t immune to his charm.

He wiped the sweat that was already forming on his forehead and took a large gulp of water that trickled from the corners of his mouth down to his collarbone and toned midsection. He could see a figure from afar on a horse, and he rubbed his eyes to make sure it is not his hangover playing games on him.

It was that mysterious stranger.

She was on the back of a familiar horse, her figure perfectly shaped as she guided the horse around. She wore a plaid blue flannel with a tank top beneath it and skimpy shorts revealing her toned legs that dangled perfectly.

He was not ashamed to look at her, he knows for a fact how she ogled him yesterday and he wishes for it to happen again but for now he enjoys gazing at her intently.

She steps off the horse and takes off her shirt, allowing the pretty combination of her bony collarbone and strong arms to appear, the cowboy hat she has on shields her long shiny hair, and her shorts hold her curves in perfect ways that he might crawl to her for worshipping purposes.

She begins to pick a variety of vegetables as she kneels, and Harry could’ve sworn that the sun was reflecting golden rays on her perfect skin making an angelic light surround her figure. Her position had him in a chokehold, it showed her feminine beauty that he was a sucker for. With a certain bend, he was able to catch her lower back dimples that he would die for.

Harry considers himself to be a sensual person, he loves details about every human’s physique whether it be any form they have, he will delve into its beauty and savour it for his dreams that he visits often.

It didn’t take long for her to notice his presence, she was a clever girl after all, and if not for the familiarity of his face she might’ve mistaken him for an intruder.

It seems that luck is not on her side, as she dreads the sight of a man that appears in every corner she walks in. He was away from her by a good distance yet near enough to see his act.

His smirk was shameless as he lazily walked around preparing his kit for work. He was fixing the fence and she can point out some details that will make any man or woman go crazy.

He has his right leg bent upwards against the base of the fence, his cowboy hat is different and seems brand new, with every bang of his hammer she notes the contraction of his biceps and clenching of abs. His rear form is not something that she expected to stare at, but there she was, eyeing a man that is like a forbidden apple to her pride.

He suddenly takes off his hat and for the first time she notices his chocolate curls now drenched from moist and humidity, he tips his head backwards , allowing his Adam’s apple to show.

He then brings both of his arms together and stretches them above his head, she can spot every outline of his muscles, almost feel their thickness, as the sun hugs his godly physique.

Veins along his neck and forearms become prominent with every flex he makes before picking up his hammer again and effortlessly fix the fence in a short period of time.

She managed to collect the vegetables she wanted but not without a quick subtle glance to him every moment, neither did he avoid gazing at her figure.

He dug an area of the field with his personal shovel, and she kept staring at him for a good amount of time before realising that she can watch him work all day in the field just to see the effect of his hard labour on his athletic body.

Who knew a hammer and a shovel can play with one’s hormones.

A shout nearby and the rush of hooves in the field alarmed both of them, he immediately jogged to check out the source, but she appeared to be rather unbothered, happy even.

She mindlessly ran towards a man on a horse before catching up to him as he quickly stepped off and lifted her up in the air. Harry suddenly stopped in his tracks realising that there is no threat at all, and it is only a relative of hers.

But upon another glance, he squinted his eyes and fixed his hands on his hips with an attempt at recognising the stranger. Memories came back to him abruptly, and the more he stared the more he got closer to revealing the mystery girl.

The man spotted Harry and waved, before shouting for him.

“Oi Styles! Come over here. How’s your old man.” The voice of the man brought him back to years ago as he suddenly realised why the girl’s features are familiar to him.

“A Carolina Princess, well I’ll be damned.” He whispered under his breath with a chuckle and passed his tongue on his teeth before approaching his father’s childhood friend.

Her laughter has exceeded the normal limit of a human being, she was above the clouds and on a different energy level than anyone around her. Her parents were home and that was all she needed.

She was sitting in the passenger seat next to her dad who was driving and telling her all about her home. She doesn’t get to see them that often, she feels a piece of her getting restored as he fills her in on everything she has missed.

In her lap lies a bouquet of Blue Stars flowers picked from her garden back in her hometown. It is her favourite type of flowers, one that she adored ever since she was able to differentiate colours and count numbers.

Harry sits in the backseat of her father’s truck upon a heated insistence. For the first time in over a day, she managed to flee away from the web of tangled thoughts surrounding a green eyed cowboy, it didn’t matter if he was right behind her.

Now the roles were reversed and a web in his mind began to form.

He expected everything of her to be but the daughter of a family friend, her face was so familiar yet so far from his knowledge. Her father hugged him like he was his own, and asked of him to ride with them despite not having his work done.

He couldn’t say no, not when it means he can find out more about her, so he eagerly packed up his kit and situated himself behind her.

The enthusiasm on her face when she received the Blue Stars bouquet was priceless. She matched the energy of a little kid, an adorable innocence but deadly stubbornness.

His family left Montana when he was five, what he remembers is nothing but glimpses that he sometimes stretches in front of him for a hint of his past life that he didn’t savour enough.

He mapped his entire brain, recalled Maggy and her family, dinner nights and bull riding contests, barbeque Sundays and Fairs. But her? He remembered her father, and his friendships with the family, almost an unbreakable bond. But no matter how hard he searched, he couldn’t catch a blue star.

Instead of his keenness on going back, he focuses on the present moment and he’s pretty sure he looks like an idiot or a creep even as his eyes never once leave her figure.

Her head was angled towards her dad who was chatting her all the way, she has a dimple on her right cheek that only appeared if she laughed hard. Her hand cups her mouth whenever her laughter gets too loud, and she doesn’t seem to mind the tears that come with it.

He has never seen someone so infatuated with flowers, her eyes lit up like she was offered the whole world, and she kept asking if the bouquet was from Carolina, smiling even more upon the confirmation.

If for a moment the conversation gets lost, she fixates on the road ahead of her and sways left to right gently with the song on the radio that she has never heard of.

He was praying for her father to not question him so that he can sneakily continue studying her in every way. But after checking on his daughter, Harry assumed that he’d talk to him.

“Son, hope we are not ignoring you there. How’s your pops?” Her father spoke as he looked to Harry through the mirror.

His jaw twitched upon her frown and face drop when the spotlight turned to him, she seems to have remembered his existence and for once in his life Harry wanted to be invisible.

“He’s doing great but he misses your contest nights.” He put on a daring smile and restored his charming demeanour.

“Oh boy he better be ready for me then.” Her dad chuckled and began speaking of old times as Harry hummed back to not appear disrespectful, but in fact his green orbs were set on hers that glared back at him through the car side mirror.

Her father and his greeted each other like little kids, it was evident that their bond was strong, and she was gazing in awe at their relationship. On the road, she wiped Harry’s existence so she can delight in her father’s arrival.

No one was able to notice that something was wrong, but they do know that she and Harry are strangers, so what they thought were doing to introduce them to each other was in reality her worst nightmare.

“Hey son, forget about the fence I have a hay delivery from Mr.Lanny , why don’t you pick it up with the lovely girl?” Harry’s father Luke pointed at her, as her own father Eddie agreed with a shrug.

“Go with him sweetie and have fun, I know you like road trips. Mr.Lanny has cats too. When you come back your mother will be here.” Her father kissed her temple and guided her to the truck.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded before hesitantly getting in the passenger seat. Harry’s cologne filled the truck as he entered, and she hoped this ride won’t cause her a headache. She was not in the mood for his cheekiness and high ego.

“Hold on Blue Star, or the truck will make you fall out the window.” He grinned at her as he turned on the ignition making the engine roar.

“Shove your jokes up your ass.” She gritted through her teeth as she looked forward. ‘Your nicely shaped ass’ she thought. He turned on KISS’s music and drove off in a rush as she tried to ignore the way his hands look on the steering wheel.

It was no wonder that she loved road trips, she felt as if they rejuvenate her soul whether it be with the company of the night breeze or the day’s sun.

But hard was her attempt to hide the discomfort oozing from her body, not when he was sitting next to her. What she didn’t know as well is that the place they’re headed to is 45 minutes away, so that’s a hour and a half in the car with the unfathomable Harry Styles.

“You’re too quiet Carolina.” He rasped making her shiver at his deep voice.

“Carolina?” she inquired, feeling quite irritated at the idea of him knowing things about her as simple as her hometown.

“I reckoned you didn’t like clumsy girl so Carolina it is. “He fiddled with a key chain that dangled smoothly between his fingers, hitting his cross tattoo.

“Do you like the cross tattoo on my hand? Some have considered it a necklace bef-“

“Can you stop being annoying for one second. The world does not revolve around you.” She groaned and closed her eyes before pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Actually when I was born the stars-

“Bloody boots I mean it.” She shouted at him and that only made him smirk more as he lifted his hands up in the air like an innocent man.

He chuckled softly before changing the song to ‘Uptown Girl’ by Billy Joel and pulling the window down fully, he continued to spread his legs with one hand mindlessly placed against the steering wheel while the other one was resting on his cowboy hat.

She tried to have subtle glances on details to enjoy. His hat had a ‘Styles’ embroidered on its front and a cross necklace was dangling against his pumped tatted chest. For once in her life she was attracted physically to someone that made her blood boil.

“What brought you here?” He tried to start a conversation knowing that he can’t fathom her silence, he wanted to see her lips move.

“I have a week off from university and it’s a necessity for me to come.” She answers formally with her gaze set on the road.

“Why not Carolina then?” He drums his fingers on the steering wheel as he watches her intently.

“It’s farther than here so that’s two days less from my vacation, besides Maggy is here and all of my family in Carolina comes down to see me.” She ties her hair feeling irritated from it pricking her eyes and he can’t take his sight off her as she styles it into a ponytail.

He can see how she left her plaid flannel in the field as well as the basket and Ray that Teddy will come after. She is left in a tight tank top that is showing her perfect cleavage.

“And you? I heard that you’re from Tennessee.” She caught him off guard as he wasn’t expecting her to actually make small talk with him and thankfully his eyes had shifted from her gorgeous form.

“True I am. We have family business here; I stalled and had some fun in Tennessee before moving here a while ago.” She was now looking at him and not the road and he felt like he scored a victory.

“What are you studying Blue Star?” He kept inquiring as they both tried to not stare at each other.

“Fine Arts in Washington, I love drawing and painting, and you Montana?” Her energy shifted to match his playfulness and he felt like he was back in the game.

“Well well Carolina, we’re both in the art field. I occasionally teach Music at Montana’s elementary and I sing for fun in some events.” He reached a turn and controlled the steering wheel with the edge of his right palm making her unconsciously clench her thighs, as this exact move is her weak spot.

“Maybe I’ll listen to you sometime if you’re not sitting on my nerves.”

“Ehhh, teasing is like my second job.” He mumbled before sending her a wink and holding eye contact with her.

“I have no idea how everyone loves you in this town.”

“Stare a bit more and you’ll figure it out.” He made a devilish grin as she gazed at his face, specially at his emerald irises that change colour upon the contact with the scarlet sun that’s setting.

Little does he know that she’s been trying to find this exact shade of green ever since she began her degree and now under the Montana sun, the company of Billy Joel and an intriguing man she found her inspiration.

“You need to be humbled Harry.” She laughed letting her arm dangle from the window as the wind allowed her to catch a whiff of his tobacco vanilla cologne, and she tried not to squirm around in the seat.

“Have a shot at it Carolina Princess”. He reached his hand to move some of the fallen hair strands on her face, his hand felt so soft yet so cold from his giant rings.

“Now I better not hear your voice, let me enjoy the road.” She kicked her feet on the dashboard with no care if he minds or not, and placed her hat on her face to shield her from the scorching sun.

“What if you’ll have to shut me up.”

“By all means necessary Montana.”

He groaned lowly trying not to show his visible attraction to her, the sexual tension in the car was thick whether it be her ignoring the wetness pooling in her shorts or him who’s regulating his breath to avoid an embarrassing teenage boner.

Her father Eddie was right, Mr.Lanny does have cats. He greeted her with a handshake, immediately knowing who she was as she’s ‘a copy of her father’. She left Harry to do his business and had some playtime with the cats.

Although the kittens were adorable, she didn’t want to miss the chance of checking out the area, so she placed the little munchkins back in their crib and stepped out to the ranch.

What she saw wasn’t what she was expecting, but it was enough to take the sun’s role making her whole body heat up.

Harry was on the top of a stacked hay pyramid; he was already tall as it is but now he looks like a model agencies would fight for. If that was even possible, it seemed as if his abs became more prominent upon the torture of labour and the northern sun.

She swallowed down her throat and watched as he threw heavy stacks of hay in the back of his truck like they weighed nothing. His entire body flexed together in sync, from the veins in his neck, to the tightening in his thighs and from the contraction of his biceps to his back muscles that can be studied.

He pulled out a cloth from his pocket and wiped the sweat from his face with it. There were two options for her: either stare at him like a weirdo (she wouldn’t mind) or help him so they return home faster. So she fixed her hair into a bun and headed towards the hay pyramid.

The next 24 hours were a blur.

After Harry drove them back to town she immediately left his car without a goodbye as she ran to greet her mother, and stacks upon stacks of hay were waiting for him to be delivered.

He didn’t see her for the rest of the day but that didn’t stop her from visiting his dreams, the only place he can feel the delight of life in and now that she’s a character, he may never leave.

When he woke up in the morning he had prepared himself for an encounter with her, but when he moved around town with work all day and didn’t spot her he felt a certain kind of disappointment that made him anxious.

He even took a different route near Maggy’s field just for the odds of bumping into her and even that didn’t work out.

But would it change things for him if he knew that she was like a buzzing bee all day having not seen him?

It wasn’t until she entered the house that she realised how she abandoned him without a goodbye, she was too excited to see her mother that she disrespected his presence.

He seemed to have improved a little bit personality wise, although being full of himself was his entire job but he had some nice things as well. On the way back he insisted on buying her a sandwich with a soft drink, and he came back with a shirt having ‘Carolina Swag’ printed on it.

‘You can now walk around and let everyone know that you’re a Carolina Princess’. He chuckled as he took a long sip from his own drink.

“Now it’s only fair I get you something but I’m not sure anyone sells a ‘I’m a dick’ shirts”. She laughed at him with her legs dangling from the window.

”Ehhh just get me a ‘ Big dick is back in town’ shirt.”

Maggy’s whole house was buzzing with people; members of the family on both her and Maggy’s side as they prepared a huge lunch. But peeling potatoes or feeding the baby lambs seemed to be hard as her mind refused to let go of him, so much that she imagined her sketchbook whispering for her to draw him, his eyes, his body and everything that she saw.

She knew that Harry wasn’t invited to the lunch, she began having thoughts about going down to the bar in hopes of seeing him, but it seemed silly even for her.

Since when does she hang so much hope for a guy that does nothing but tease her.

Maggy could tell something was off, but she didn’t question anything nor the bar incident two days ago, but she knows her friend and knows Harry as well. She can tell how they fit like a piece of puzzle. It is said that opposites attract but both of them are ever changing like tides and Maggy knows well that each of their alterations are equal to the other.

A bonfire night in the North was a tradition that dates back to her grandfather’s generation, there are some things that have changed including her longing for the Carolina bonfires which she cannot attend now.

If you ask her she’d blush as she knows well that she isn’t invited, but how bad could her presence be?

She doesn’t consider herself to be an intruder, but she is not one to miss fun as well. Maggy has been talking her ear off non stop about it, and she thought why spend the night in when she can crash a party.

Technically she wasn’t being rude or disrespectful. Everyone knew everyone in town, she wonders who the party is for and if he is there. She’s been getting a continuous flow of thoughts about him.

What he does in a day when he isn’t working, how his nights are, the other side of his personality. Would he continue his playfulness with her or shift onto something else. She can feel her regret readying itself to come out if she doesn’t go. Better be safe than sorry.

She acted as if it was her first time going out, taking extra time in front of the mirror, attempting to apply some makeup despite having no expertise in it, and rummaging through everyone’s closets till she decided on a white sundress, slightly above her knees. Maggy let out a sigh and recreated a drama scene having restored her cowboy hat.

“My mom’s will look better since I have matching boots.” She mumbled as Maggy made victory dance moves as a form of an inside joke.

Even the whole family could see her enthusiasm that was a bit out of hand, usually she’d be happy to stay in and be cocooned in the cosiness of the northern home, playing with her cousins and telling stories.

She and Maggy agreed to go on foot, knowing that they may be tipsy on the way back. But they didn’t give it further thought, as the town is safe and secure day and night.

It wasn’t far as they can spot the fire, but to her surprise it was in Harry’s own field. She confidently made her way through the grass with Maggy behind her and she can see how everyone turned their heads upon her far figure that is slowly approaching.

“Good evening ladies and Gentlemen.” She smiled in a nonchalant way noticing Harry’s change of body language when she arrived.

She can spot a few familiar faces that she isn’t too close with but can recognise, a girl was sitting next to Harry and laying her body against him.

“Hello Carolina.” He winked at her and motioned to a seat facing him seeing as the ones next to him were occupied.

“And who exactly are you?” The girl next to him mocked as she became too self-aware of Harry’s plastered grin.

“Do I know you?” She replied with a friendly smile, making the girl frown and turn red.

“You’re seriously asking who Carolina is?” Harry replied to the girl without once looking at her. His gaze was set on the Carolina Princess, and the sight of fire reflecting on her bare legs.

He didn’t want to make a fool out of himself and invite her, what if she didn’t want to come and then he’d be disappointed. He considers his ego to be quite delicate but broad.

Seeing how she is here tells him all he needs to know, even If he met her once he can see how she’d prefer being with her family right now. So why come to a bonfire with no invitation.

She indulged herself in a conversation Maggy was having with an old friend, as Harry continued to entertain the girl sitting next to him who was now brushing herself against him on purpose.

He was not sure of what he was thinking, why did he want to make her jealous when she was right in front of him?

He whispered nothings in the girl’s ear, things he can say out loud, but every once in a while he got the attention he wanted and he smirked knowingly.

Except that his fun didn’t last long as a guy sat next to Carolina and began chatting her, it was now obvious to the companion next to him who stomped her foot and left with a huff.

Harry watched the guy intently, he knew him well and he knows how much of a nice guy he is, he’s just her type and Harry felt his jaw twitch at the thought. The beer bottle in his hand was now empty as he consumed it quickly.

He lazily walked over to her side making both hers and the guy’s head turn upward.

“Hey man can you give us a minute? I want to talk with her” Harry rasped as he looked down at her unbothered figure, allowing his eyes to linger a bit on her collarbone and neck.

“Sure yeah.” The guy got up with a nod and smile making Harry sigh as it was a confirmation that his intentions were friendly.

“Did you actually think I didn’t notice your little glances.” She smirked as Harry situated himself next to her.

“I was hoping you would actually.” He whispered in a deep voice as he got himself dangerously close to her.

“Yeah?” she grinned at him.

“Uh huh.”

The fire was reflecting on both of their faces, and he couldn’t give two fucks if it he was being obvious, he needed to stare. Needed.

The dress hugged her body perfectly and the lily odour was reeking off her heavily that he wanted to bury his face in her neck.

Her neck that is adorned by a flower necklace that he will later on recall how it was a blue star, when he dreams about her.

Her legs stretched in front of her, made him realise that he was about to ask her if she wants to lay them on him. But maybe that was too straightforward even for him.

“I see that your little friend left, I hope I was not a bother.”

“She did? I didn’t notice.” He lied as he looked around pretending to look for the girl.

She rolled her eyes and laughed before bending her forearms backwards against the wooden seat. They both know how dangerously close they are but thankfully everyone seems to be preoccupied.

He is not shirtless, she noticed that. He is wearing a white flannel with a leather jacket adorning his muscles in every right way.

“You don’t have a drink in your hand, why so?” He asked as he pointed for the box of random drinks.

“Not feeling it honestly.” Her position and the way her arms are stretched backwards made her cleavage more prominent and Harry was about to choke on his beer.

“You know, down on the west coast they got a sayin’ , if you’re not drinking then you’re not playing. You should know all about it.” He grinned at her trying to take in all of her expressions.

“Fuck the west coast.” She rolled her eyes in a dramatic way.

“Hmm why so? You’re studying there.” He inquired.

“I just do not belong to that area, i’m a Northern girl.” She shrugged cutting her answer short.

“I reckon that you’re not staying there after the graduation?” He was leading the conversation somewhere unknown, why does he care where she’ll live or what she’ll do?

“Definitely not. The last time I was in Carolina my Nana said that I better swim before I drown” she smiled covering her face from embarrassment.

The fire was crackling and the conversation of other people died around them as they delighted in each other’s company, and tiny secrets. She found out shocking things about Montana’s beloved boy and he the same , where her traits were taken in as perfection.

“She’s right, Carolina is like no other.” Any information he had on Carolina, was being pushed to the front of his brain. Anything to impress Blue Star.

“Yeah? What do you know about it? Actually it’s a bit far from Montana but you remind me of home.” Her smile was genuine and the corners of her mouth were stretching with every word. Her soft hair cascaded on her face and the despite the fire that’s lit next to them, shivers and goosebumps went through their bodies.

“I remind you of home?” He felt his heart flutter at her words even though he’s not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad one, but at least it means he’s been on her mind.

“Hmm I feel so far away and I can’t always visit, it’s frustrating. But you’re like that distant memory one goes back to for a hint of Nostalgia, it’s kind of hard to decode.” An expression of interest covered her face, as if she was explaining some sort of mathematical equation to him and not a complicated feeling.

“I do know that, your face feels distant yet familiar too.” He muttered then immediately continued rearing the end of their conversation.

“When my pops used to take me to Carolina, we’d stop by an ice cream shop, his name was Uncle Pe-“

“Uncle Peter?!” She cut him off in excitement and playfully gripped his bicep upon his confirmation.

He has never seen someone get excited this much for an ice cream shop, but again no one ever told him that he reminded them of home or made him feel like wanting to be attached to their hip all day long.

“There’s no way.. I- , that was like my childhood shop. I escaped classes in middle school once to spend an afternoon there and eat the Uncle Peter’s special flavour.” She had her hand on his as she excitedly told him about her childhood. Her laughter was echoing without a care to anyone around them.

“Was it the Vanilla strawberry cheesecake?!” Harry’s eyes gleamed with hope.

“Yes!!” They both held on to each other from the amount of laughing they let out.

“You know you’re such a –“ he stopped mid sentence with his rosy lips parted.

“A what Harry?” She whispered as she shamelessly stared at his mouth.

A true Blue star and I don’t want to sound like a creep but we would’ve met even if both of us didn’t return here at the same time.

“Nothing. Erm would you like a beer?” He cleared his throat and got up to grab a bottle.

“Yeah why not? For the west coast I guess.” She made herself more comfortable and kicked off her boots, trying not to think about what he was about to say.

“Sure for the shitty west coast.”

They stayed up till 1 in the morning, sharing tales on everything and nothing, she told him why the North means a lot to her and why she is studying in Washington, her first pony and that one time she got mad at Maggy and cut her hair.

He listened intently, and If he could write them down he would. He didn’t care if he had work in the morning or if his eyelids were betraying him, he must listen.

He told her about the family business, about Tennessee and his passion for music, how the kids at school love it. But he tried not to share a lot, not because he’s a closed book but to allow her to indulge in the moment.

Gaze at her lips as they move, get a whiff of her lily scent when she gets too close, notice her expressions as she tells different stories and which one means the most. Listen to to her angelic voice and try not to coo when she says his name.

Her soft skin that’s touching his made it hard for him to not imagine her back against his chest at night, touching him however and whenever she pleases, yes he would, he would surrender his body to her.

After all his own body is betraying him with the need for her touch.

“I think I’ll just head home, it’s late.” He noted the soft blush in her cheeks that he wanted to kiss.

“Okay I’ll give you a ride.” He didn’t give her time to object before getting up and fishing his truck’s keys from his pockets.

She followed him after letting her friend know where she’s headed and saw him waiting patiently in the car.

The road home took almost ten minutes, in which he playfully teased her grand entrance to the bonfire.

“It’s not like you minded my presence.” Her feet were yet again kicked up against the dashboard.

“Maybe, maybe not.” He let out a lie that none of them believed.

When they reached the front porch of her house, she straightened her posture and grabbed her purse from the backseat, he had his sight fixed on her as she thanked him and reached for the truck door.

“Hey Carolina?” she looked back at him before he gently reached for her chin, and brought it closer to his face, their breaths were heavy as they both had their eyes fixed on their lips.

His mouth hovered over hers, as his brain was already savouring the small details like the curve of her upper lip and her minted breath.

The front porch suddenly lit up with several lamps making both of them jolt backward in shock and confusion.

“Hey Styles , My boy!” her dad shouted and waved for Harry who was cursing himself for stalling the kiss.

He looked at her shocked figure who smiled almost immediately offering him a toothy grin, as she stepped out of the car sending him a flying kiss.

And for the first time, she winked before him.

——————————————————

Dividers from @firefly-graphics

A/n: Part 2 will be posted this week and it’s very very steamy…🥵🥴 Please send asks or comment to give me your opinion xx

Taglist: @prettythingsworld @slut4marvelmenn @fullofstyles @cherrycokeslay @wandas-lawyer @tbsloneely @theroosterswife24 @missmielyhoran @harryssideboob @harrysficreblog @sagcas-latte @itslottiehere @hsonlyangelxo @gem1712 @adachhi @tpwkkkkk @grapejuicebluesrry @summertime-pills @lhhrryismyhome @marzhshaim @harrystylessslut @keepdrivingkisses @rideeonstyles @swiftmendeshoran @matildasatellite @a-strange-familiar @cherryscinema @greivingfortheliving @babyyangel111 @victoria-styles @skysladylazarus

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ghcstao3 · 3 months

Note

Im currently watching brave and it’s given me brain worms hehe

It’s to do with the will o’ the wisp!

Either soaps been seeing them his whole life guiding him to the task force or after a rough mission, totally lost/injured and with no way to contact anyone they guide his way back to ghost :D

Thanks for everything you write it genuinely makes my day to read all your works!!

ooh i really like this. also- apparently will o' the wisps are actually Not good in folklore so i wrote a little twist to fix that ;)

Throughout his life, Soap's nan had always liked to tell him stories about the many malevolent creatures he should hope to never have the misfortune of encountering—kelpies, redcaps, sluaghs; just about everything that existed in his homeland's folklore.

A little cruel in retrospect, Soap thinks, but for a while he'd just understood it as his nan's way of ensuring her grandson was to behave. They were myths, old tales and explanations for the unexplainable, and he can appreciate the determination to share tradition.

But now, as Soap is stranded in thick woods after an operation gone awry, blood sticky on his temple and a bullet stuck in his leg, he's not so sure they were just stories. Not as he's currently staring down an unnatural wisp of light in the darkness, hovering just a few feet away from where he'd collapsed against the thick, gnarled trunk of a tree.

Will o' the wisp, his mind supplies. Omens of death, his nan had told him, like many other creatures and spirits. They appear to the weary and lost like himself, flickers of glowing blue light almost hopeful as they guide one along a seemingly nonsensical path—but instead of leading someone to safety, they lure people to their doom.

The wisp just floats, unmoving, as Soap sits frozen. He tries his radio to no avail, and realizes with a great dread that he only has two options: attempt to find his own way back to his team, to anyone, anywhere, with the great risk of only getting more lost—or follow the wisp in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, it may actually lead him somewhere useful, no matter how bad the destination. Soap could only hope that doom is something he can fend off with a gun.

His decision is made rather easily because... he supposes it doesn't really make a difference, does it?

So he pushes himself away from the tree and toward the light—it vanishes as soon as he steps toward it, but with another step forward, another wisp appears.

Soap limps along, following the wisps. They weave him through trees and take sharp, sudden turns, disappearing and reappearing endlessly as Soap pursues the trail they leave. His head is on a swivel with every sound that isn't the crunch of branches beneath his own boots, with every flash of movement in his periphery.

He feels like he’d been walking forever by the time the forest has grown less dense and the wisps fade away for good—and that's when Soap sees it.

The large, imposing silhouette. The hulking figure cloaked in black. The glimpse of a skull in the sliver of moonlight that had managed to break through the forest's canopy.

Soap swallows a laugh. The will o' the wisps must have led him to Ghost, not realizing doom would have only been certain for Soap had he been the enemy.

Funny.

Ghost spots him and raises his gun, pauses, then after a moment lowers the barrel.

"Johnny?" Ghost grunts. "Where the fuck've you been?"

Soap shrugs a shoulder, wincing as he steps closer. "Lost my way running from the facility. Comms were dead." He flashes a crooked grin. "Worked out though, aye?"

Ghost snorts. "Aye," he echoes. "C'mon, then. Exfil's waiting. Save your explanations 'til then."

Soap gladly follows, relief nearly exalting.

But as they walk shoulder-to-shoulder, Soap can’t help but cast one last glance back at the trees from where he had emerged.

He wonders if the wisps had really made a mistake. He wonders if maybe they hadn't been done leading him, but Ghost had gotten in the way.

Questions he'll likely never find the answers for.

But regardless, now in safe hands—Soap thinks he had better refresh himself on his nan's stories as soon as he gets the chance.

He doesn't know now, whenever they might come in handy.

#ask #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghostsoap #ghost x soap #ghoap #writing

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deanbrainrotwritings · 11 months

Text

— JUMP ON INTO THE FIRE

SUMMARY : ben liked her more than he thought he did, more than he’d ever admit to her or himself.

PAIRING : soldier boy x supe!reader (f.)

CHARACTERS : hughie campbell, billy butcher

WARNINGS/TAGS : nsfw (18+), smut, implied misogyny, breeding kink, angst, feelings?, drug/alcohol use

WORD COUNT : 4.4k

A/N : title from a song by radio company. I keep procrastinating on posting, but a bunch of inspirational posts keep popping up telling me to JUST POST. so, I’m being brave and posting, heheh x

Ben had been restless all day.

He stared at Y/N, but she focused on whatever Butcher was saying. She usually repeated what Butcher had said when Ben asked her and no one really cared that he doesn’t listen to the stuff in between. As long as he had orders he wanted to follow through with, they seemed fine with him being the way he was.

He took advantage of it.

He took advantage of a lot of things. For example, he took advantage of the fact that Y/N was attracted to him and that she was a quiet fuck. Still, the afterglow of her orgasm remained for a few hours, nearly giving away what they’d secretly been up to. Her glassy eyes and flushed cheeks, her swollen lips and the way she was relaxed when she’d been uptight and wound up all day from trying to come up with ways to bring down Homelander.

She was also a supe, which he thought was great for the intensity of the sex they had. She could handle him and could take more of what he wanted than a human would have been able to. He just didn’t like it when she used her powers to control him and stop him from initiating anything with the boys around.

He got the hint. He rolled his eyes at her when he stood behind her, pressing himself against her ass, humming as if he were listening to a word Hughie said. Hughie was complaining to Butcher about something, and usually, everyone jumped in to say their piece and that’s when he’d make his intentions clear to her. He’d feel a tightening sensation around his chest and he’d huff out in annoyance, knowing it was her that was telling him to stop.

He grabbed a pack of cigarettes and started to smoke one. He knew she hated when he did that and she narrowed her eyes at him when he puffed a little white cloud against the side of her face. Her eyes began shining a golden colour and an invisible shield stopped the second puff of smoke from blowing against her face, and he smirked at her, walking away to smoke by the window.

He hoped the boys would leave soon and that when they did, they’d make Y/N stay with him so he could finally bury himself inside her. He didn’t like keeping it a secret that they were fucking, but she always recoiled from his touch, so much so that he heard Hughie asking her if she was uncomfortable with him.

She brushed it off as Ben being himself and wanting to fuck all living creatures with tits. She even had the audacity to say that Ben preferred saggy grannies over someone as young and tight as herself. Hughie blushed at her obscene words, so flustered by her smirk that his mouth just opened and closed hilariously.

Ben spanked her for that when they finally fucked, her cute little ass was red and hurting from the sting of his hands. Unfortunately, she’d healed from that quickly, but it was enjoyable in the moment, for both of them. Even if she didn’t say it, even if she whined about it, he knew she liked it.

On his second advance, he’d passed by in front of her. He could have just walked behind her, but he moved in front of her, squeezing her ass while everyone argued for the second time about their approach. It was really unnecessary on his part, but the glare she shot at him made him laugh, deep and genuine that he was almost scared for feeling happiness and maybe a little something else that he wouldn’t admit to himself.

So, he went to his room with the intention of jerking off, but he found himself unable to go past the edge of his orgasm. Instead, he decided to suit up. He figured they’d leave again at some point because they had been discussing who should or shouldn’t go. And after about an hour and a half, they all left without telling him anything.

It irritated him, but once he stopped hearing them, he abandoned the computer where he was watching porn—hoping to get himself in the mood for a quick wank, but he just couldn’t and just stared blankly at it—feeling horny, but unable to cum. He grabbed another cigarette, smoked it on his way out of his room, looking for a sign that someone was still here. But, truthfully, he was just hoping to find Y/N still here.

He could smell food, his stomach growled upon catching a whiff of it and he walked towards the kitchen, and found just who he was looking for. He smirked, “finally, a woman in the kitchen without having to be told.” He knew it would get a rise out of her to say that, and he enjoyed her attitude when he made comments like that.

He put his cigarette in the ashtray, making sure it went out all the way so she wouldn’t tell him off before he sat down at the table. His legs were wide open and his arm was on the wooden surface, his eyes tracing the curves of her body in the tight sweater and jeans.

“Fuck off, I’m not here for your pleasure, I’m hungry,” she told him, looking over her shoulder to glare at him with irritation. He laughed loudly, wiping his mouth with his thumb to which she rolled her eyes. She turned the stove off and started to serve herself some of the food she made: waffles, bacon, and scrambled eggs.

“Breakfast for dinner?” He asked, raising a brow.

“Cravings,” she shrugged, putting too much strawberry jam on her waffles and an equal amount of whipped cream. He perked up a little at the word, his cock stirring in his suit at the idea of having gotten her pregnant. She started to put raspberries and strawberries on them, then laughed softly to herself when she finished.

“Cravings?” He asked, clearing his throat.

She moaned softly when she took a bite and he palmed his stiff cock, nearly growling at the sounds she was making. He was only getting harder with the hope that he somehow got her pregnant in at least one of the occasions in which they fucked.

“So fucking good,” she moaned, just like she’d say when he fucked her. “Want some?” She asked, finally turning around and licking away some whipped cream from her lip, sucking on her fingers. He stopped touching himself immediately and acted casually when he pulled his gloves off his hands.

“Yours are too sweet,” he grumbled, his eyes dropped down to her breast. Her nipples poked the soft, grey cotton, the zipper as low as Starlight’s suit so he could see her cleavage.

“I’ll serve you some, but you’re putting whatever you want on them. I’m not your mother,” she said seriously, grabbing a plate for him from the cabinets. He bit his lip, the sweater rising up to reveal the smooth skin on her back. She returned to the stove, serving him the last two waffles and the last of the bacon and eggs.

She put his plate in front of him and brought him all the toppings, ignoring him the rest of the time, to eat her waffles at the counter.

“You’re not gonna sit?” He asked casually, but his voice had a hint of disapproval in it. She easily caught the tone and turned to look at him, rolling her eyes. She grabbed her plate and sat down on the chair closest to him.

“Happy?” She asked, digging into her food when he huffed in response rather than answering with his words. He stared at her with raised brows, watched how slowly she ate and how she enjoyed every overly-sweet bite of her meal. “What?” She asked, pouting at him unintentionally.

He smiled and shook his head, “you’re eating like a pregnant woman,” he commented offhandedly, adding the toppings he wanted. She kicked his leg, despite not being offended by it. She told herself she was just annoyed by everything he said, but deep down she knew she cared about him. He glared at her. “I didn’t mean it in an offensive way,” he defended himself.

“I know,” she shrugged indifferently, “I just think you’re annoying.”

He continued to glare at her, watched her eat her bacon and eggs while completely ignoring him and the glare he was shooting at her. Had he been Homelander, she’d be cut in half; bloody and dead. He grabbed the leg of her chair to pull her closer and wrapped his arms around her waist to move her onto his thigh.

“I think you need to be fucked,” he said gruffly. His free hand began zipping her sweater down to reveal her naked chest to him. She grunted, annoyed by his blunt words, turning around in his lap when wiggling free wasn’t an option. She brought her plate closer and started to eat, finishing up with her waffle when he started to unbutton her jeans.

“This isn’t an invitation,” she said, smacking his hand away. “I made food, eat it,” she ordered, getting off his lap, and this time he let her go. He blinked at her, his eyes glued to her every movement, narrowing when she started to wash her plate, which she then placed in the dishwasher.

“Don’t order me around, Y/N,” he said, his voice deep and beautiful. It still had an effect on her that both aroused her and made her want to punch him. He crossed his arms over his chest and she rolled her eyes for the thousandth time today, and all the times it was because of him. “And stop rolling your eyes at me.”

She turned to face him again, unzipped her jeans and pulled them down, stepping out of them and leaving them in the middle of the kitchen with her sweater right on top of them. She stood in front of him, naked, except for the light blue underwear she was wearing and her grey socks.

“Please, eat my food, Ben,” she said sweetly, but he knew she was pretending, mocking him, teasing him. “And after, I’ll let you fuck me,” she used the same tone, stepping between his legs. Her hands held his face, silky and warm like the waffles she made, they moved until she buried her fingers in his soft hair.

“And if I want to fuck you first?” He asked, hooking his fingers on her underwear and tugging them down her legs. She let him do it, leaned down to kiss him hungrily, the taste of sugar on her tongue made him moan, but before he could get the upper hand and deepen the kiss, she pulled away.

“The food will get cold,” she stated with an infuriating amount of calmness. He hesitantly pulled away from her and started to eat his food. She grinned at him triumphantly and picked up her clothes from the floor, his eyes on her ass the whole time.

“Where are you going?”

“Just putting this in my room, I’ll wait for you there,” she told him, a little confused.

“No, you’ll come back down and I’ll fuck you on the table,” he told her casually. She stared at the table and he could tell she was imagining all the possibilities. After taking his request—or his order, really—into consideration, she smiled at him and nodded, making her way out of the kitchen completely naked. “Shit;” he murmured, shaking his head.

She really was something.

By the time she returned, he’d nearly finished. He may have eaten a little too fast, but she didn’t make a comment about it, just leaned against the doorframe as if she wasn’t a walking temptation. When he finished, he pushed the plate aside and she inspected it, as if he would leave any food when he had been starving before he came into the kitchen.

She smirked at him, a sparkle of mischief in her eyes made him suspicious about her intentions when she took his plate. She walked to the sink to wash it too, slowly. He rolled his eyes, started to remove most of his armour, the vest, utility belt, until he was only in the zipped-up shirt, boots, and his pants.

She dried her hands with a towel and smirked at him, “why’d you put all that on, anyway?” She asked, looking to the side where the curtain was drawn, the orange sunlight from the sunset leaking through. She covered her chest and made her way over to close it.

“Leave it,” he told her. His gruff voice made her lick her lips. She smiled to herself before turning around to face him. He stood behind her, glancing over her shoulder at the neighbourhood and turned her back around to face it. He slapped her ass hard, revelling in her little gasp, and massaging the flesh gently. “You’re so fucking hot,” he praised, watching the neighbors go about their day.

Ben hoped someone would look at her when one of his hands cupped her warm breast, pinching her already tightened nipple. He was rough with her, squeezing her chest roughly, his other hand had travelled down her tummy, where he wanted to fill her up and make her pregnant. His hand kept going lower, her back arched against his chest, her head rested on his shoulder, panting already with her eyes closed.

“Little whore,” he murmured, the sound vibrating through his chest and against her back. She puffed out an irritated breath, but when his fingers found her entrance, the lubrication of her pussy coating his fingers, she moaned with him. His fingers slid freely through her folds and he found her clit just as he watched the guy he had a quick chat with the other day—Clark, who was married—walk by the window about to close the curtains to his home.

Instead, Clark watched. At first, surprised at what he was seeing but when he saw Ben, fear made him close the curtains quickly. Ben chuckled, satisfied with the reaction, nearly missing Y/N’s sweet moans and the way she squirmed in his arms. He removed his hand from between her legs, licked his fingers clean and started to walk her to the table, but first, he wanted some payback.

He sat down with her in his lap, watched her shift a little to look at him over her shoulder with a puzzled expression on her face. She still looked forward, waiting patiently for what he was going to do to her. He hummed softly at her submission, kissed her shoulder tenderly, appreciative of the way she shivered.

He smoothed his hands up and down her sides, spread her legs with his own, but completely neglected her pussy to resume playing with her breasts. She could feel his warm breath by her ear, tickling her skin, with his fingers rolling her nipples between his fingertips, pinching them almost harshly, but mostly it felt good. So good, she started to squirm in his lap.

“I know what you’re doing, Ben,” she whispered, moving her hands from her thighs to rest above his hands.

“Getting you warmed up?” He asked, playing innocent. She took one of his hands and moved it down between her legs where it was before.

“Teasing me, you asshole,” she chuckled, tipping her head back on his shoulder to kiss his cheek. He laughed, humouring her by bringing his fingers down to her soppy cunt, gathering her arousal and unhurriedly brushing his fingers up and down her clit. She groaned in annoyance, her calves wrapping around his own. She moved a little, her torso twisting carefully to look him in the eyes. “I hate you,” she huffed, squirming in his lap and he tightened his grip around her so she wouldn’t fall out of his lap.

“Doesn’t feel like it,” he muttered, smirking at her. She chose to ignore him and snickered to herself, letting her eyes fall shut to enjoy the slow pace of his fingers keeping her on the edge. He purposely began to avoid her clit, feeling the new wave of wetness from her entrance, circling, teasing.

He cupped her pussy, slid two fingers into her soaked cunt and started to push them in and out of her. Languidly, he curled his fingers inside her, let his palm massage her clit so slowly the only thing that kept her on the edge was the fact that it was him touching her. Had it been anyone else, she would’ve been drier than sandpaper and she’d be sitting there in complete and utter boredom.

“Ben,” she panted, reaching out to grip the table in front of her. She slowly began fucking herself against his fingers, moaned his name softly, wondering in the back of her mind if Ben would even let her cum like this. It felt good, his fingers brushed against her g-spot in this position, and he started to grind his palm against her clit the faster she went.

He let her cum this time, her walls pulsed around his fingers, and her hips slowly came to a stop. She didn’t bother catching her breath when she moved off his lap and turned around to face him. She bit her lip, watched him sit back in the chair, a curious look on his face, waiting for her to do something if she had anything in mind.

She wrapped her fingers around his wrist, lifted his cum-soaked fingers up to his lips and he happily took them into his mouth. While he licked his fingers clean, she zipped his suit down, her lips immediately pressed against his exposed skin, marking his warm body, as her hands worshipped him. He gazed down at her, casually brushing her hair out of her face, his teeth digging into his plump lip.

He lifted his hips off the chair when she tugged his pants and boxers down his hips. Her eyes were on his for a few seconds, full of lust and excitement. He expected her mouth on his dick, but instead she stood up to sit in his lap and she leaned forward to kiss him breathless.

Her fingers slipped through his soft hair and she shimmied her hips forward impatiently, grinding her soaked pussy over his cock. He groaned against her mouth, kissed her back with equal force and passion. One of his hands tangled in her hair and the other grabbed her waist to pull her closer, stopping her from moving her hips against his just to lift her up.

Without breaking the kiss, he stood up from the chair, stopping when his thighs hit the wooden table. He sat her down on it, pulled away from her lips, breathless and hungry for her. He wrapped his hand around his cock and slid the soft weeping head through her folds teasingly. “You’re mine,” he murmured, just taking her in. Her eyebrows went up slightly at his words, but she didn’t mind the sentiment.

“Yours…” she mumbled in agreement, finding that she liked the way that sounded. Her fingers tightened in his long hair, just to hear him grunt. Her head tipped back and her lips parted when he focused his teasing on her clit. He latched his lips to her exposed throat, teeth grazing her skin, mouth sucking gently, his tongue soothing the marks he left behind.

“Gonna finish inside you again,” he murmured against her neck.

She chuckled, “why?” She spread her legs anyway, the throbbing of her clit becoming intense with each teasing stroke of his cock. He didn’t answer, he just lifted his face from her neck and smirked at her as he guided his cockhead to her entrance.

“Don’t you like it?” He asked with a grin, pushing in and almost pulling out of her all the way slowly. He stared into her eyes, biting his lip seductively.

“Your cum inside me?” She smirked, squirming a little before wrapping her legs around his slim waist. “Why do you like it?” He pulled his hips back and pushed back into her, he went slow, considered her words and debated on whether to tell her or not. But when she pulled his hair with one hand and grasped his chin with the other, roughly bringing him in for a kiss, he stopped thinking so much about what to answer.

“To have a fucking baby with you,” he grunted against her lips.

She pulled away from the kiss, completely breathless, and blinked up at him in surprise. He didn’t give her much time to let it sink in. He gently pushed her back on the table, and her hands released his face. He watched her lips part, ready to respond, but he grabbed her hips to stop her and thrusted into her harshly.

She dug her fingernails into his arm, gasping at the pace and the force of his thrusts that shook the table beneath her. She laughed breathlessly anyway, her walls clamped down on his cock as punishment, a long moan slipping past his lips at the feeling. Her legs remained wrapped around his hips and he smirked down at her still, seeing a defiant sparkle in her eyes that he couldn’t kill, no matter how many times he reprimanded her.

“Why me?” She raised a brow, licking her dry lips.

“I like you,” he shrugged, not wasting a single second to think.

She blushed, felt a little flattered for once as he fucked her. He treated it like it was nothing, but her silence showed him that it revealed a little too much, so he brought his thumb to her clit to take her attention away from his words.

He rolled his hips against hers, kept his thrusts sharp and deep, expertly brushing against her g-spot until she was arching her back off the table. Her legs squeezed his waist, a strangled moan tore from her throat, and her walls clamped down on him. He continued to rub her clit, drawing quick circles at first, her fingers tightening on his forearms as her walls pulsed.

The fire in his own stomach boiled over until he spilled inside her, cursing softly under his breath and muttering her name at the way her orgasm triggered his. Warmth spread through her walls, and he slowed both the thrust of his hips and the circles on her clit until her muscles relaxed on the table. He stood above her, let go of her hip to admire the way she shined so prettily after her orgasm.

“You think I’m annoying,” she murmured, trying to catch her breath. He chuckled, his eyes wrinkling at the corners in such a lovely way, he almost didn’t seem so intimidating and big anymore.

“Just be mine, angel,” he smiled down at her, his eyes glittering earnestly. It pulled at her heart, her stomach clenched, and he seemed so human.

“If that’s what you’re into…” she trailed off, trying to brush his words off, but inwardly, she was swooning. She pushed him away instead of being open and giving him the same vulnerability, hurt crossed over his face, but she was too busy avoiding his eyes to notice.

When he slipped out of her, he watched his cum start to ooze out of her, but this time, he was too caught up in his hurt to be aroused at the thought of getting her pregnant. She was behind her for the hand towel to clean herself up and he didn’t say anything, he just quietly lifted his pants and helped her down the table once she’d finished cleaning herself.

He took her face in his hands, in an attempt to make things less awkward, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips that was meant to be heated, but it ended up being a gentle one. A gentle kiss that she reciprocated for a heartbeat or two before she pulled away after regaining her wits to brush past him casually with the towel in one hand to wash it herself.

He blinked at the back of her head, a bunch of emotions bubbling up his chest, giving him whiplash and overwhelming him. He let his hands fall from where they were still holding the ghost of her face, a scowl replacing the peaceful expression that had been on his face.

“Forgot to tell ya,” she turned around to face him and he forced a smile. “They’re going after the TNT Twins in a few days, so.. be ready for that,” she informed him casually. “Herogasm,” she feigned enthusiasm, and turned away from him to go to her room upstairs.

“Fuck,” he groaned angrily, sliding a hand down his face.

He looked around the kitchen with irritation, found the drugs he kept hidden in the cabinet wall and took the best bottle of bourbon hidden in another cabinet. He opened the pill bottle, dumped a few on the table where he’d fucked her, and took his knife from the floor, using the eagle head to crush the pills to dust.

He kicked the chair forward with a foot to sit in it. Once he was lined up in front of the white power on the table, he leaned down and sniffed a long line of the crushed pills. He sighed in relief, cleaned his nose of traces of white powder before he opened the bourbon. He stared at it, swirled the golden liquid in the bottle as he thought about what he’d said to her. I like you? He scoffed with a shake of his head, be mine?

He felt more anger towards himself than he felt for her. Heat crawled up his face, shame and embarrassment made his hot cheek twitch and he downed about half the bottle for saying what he said. He replayed the look on her face, hated himself for feeling hurt by her indifference, but could he blame her?

➥ all i wanna do

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waynes-multiverse · 28 days

Text

Rehab – Epilogue

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.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female!Reader

Warnings: +18, language, some crack, a bit of fluff and angst, hard decisions, a lot of goodbyes & all the feels

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: We're here, babes! End of the road! Thank you guys so much for everything. This was a wild ride, and I'm glad I had you in my passenger's seat 💚

Feedback is my fuel 🖤

<< Chapter 8 || Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

Epilogue: twin flame

You’re gonna be nowhere The loneliest kind of lonely It may be rough goin’ Just to do your thing’s the hardest thing to do…

“Morning.” Y/N smiles brightly as he stirs and slowly wakes. “Wakey, wakey, sunshine.”

Blue eyes flutter open and fearfully widen, his brow scrunches in confusion as he looks around and scans his environment. He tries to wiggle free of the handcuffs around his wrists, keeping him tied to the metal bed frame.

Not that it matters – he can’t leave either way.

She turns off the radio with a blissful sigh. “You know, that was one of his favorite songs. Your father’s,” she clarifies. “He sang it all the time. It was fucking annoying.”

“Why the hell can’t I move? Get me the fuck out of here,” the man in a sky-blue hospital gown demands and lifts his head off the mattress, only a few inches, attempting to get up.

Needless to say, that attempt is futile and fails miserably.

“Don’t strain yourself, John, or you might shit the bed. And I ain’t cleaning that mess… You’ve been in a coma for three weeks,” Y/N tells him with an amused smile. “Oh, and you can’t move because you’re paralyzed from the waist down. I even doubt that meager dick’s still working.”

His nostrils flare and let out a huff. “It’s Homelander, you bitch. No one calls me by that name.”

“Yeah, not anymore.” Y/N twitches her shoulders in mock apology. Her mouth curves into a Machiavellian grin. “Scared yet?”

“Where the fuck am I?” he growls through gritted teeth, upset by her blatant disrespect.

“You’re at a rehab facility for former supes. I mean, it’s discontinued. Abandoned, really. It’s just you and me,” she replies flatly and then forces a customer-service smile to her lips. “So, guess I’ll be your nurse for the day. How are we doing, you–”

Her brow furrows as she tries to remember the exact words, pensively pursing her lips.

“Wait…” She holds up a finger to stop him from interrupting her as she fishes out a crumpled piece of paper from her jeans pocket. She squints her eyes in concentration as she skims over its content.

“Ah yes!” With a smile, she clears her throat and reads from her paper. “So, how are you doing, you bootlicking… carpet-munching… cockboy?”

Homelander frowns at the insults. Y/N does too, but for a different reason as she shakes her head.

“Jesus fucking Christ, your dad’s handwriting is an atrocity,” she mutters as she tilts her head with narrowed eyes at the paper in her hands.

The blond man’s eyes narrow in both shock and confusion. “How do you know my father?”

“Oh, uhm, I’m his wife,” Y/N says and smiles complacently. “Which technically makes me your step-mommy, but let’s not go there, you–… Wait.” She peeks once more at the paper in her hands. “You cumguzzling… cowfucking… cuck fluffer.” Her brow draws up, impressed. “Huh, nice. Little alliteration going on there. Guess all those books paid off…”

“Can we skip to the part where you tell me what the fuck you’re doing here?” Homelander snaps impatiently, annoyed with the shenanigans.

“Alright, your dad sent me here to, you know… gloat,” Y/N says simply and shrugs, flashing him an easy smile. “He wanted you to know that he’s the one that put you into this damn bed. Funnily enough, he once woke up in this very room, tied to a bed. Not in a kinky way, though. Although, he probably would’ve loved that…” She chuckles fondly. “This place really changed him, but I doubt it’ll do the same for you.”

“And why the fuck isn’t he here telling me this, huh?” John asks with a challenging look. “I didn’t reckon him for a fucking coward.”

Y/N’s facade cracks a little at his words, a vicious smile tugging at her lips. “Oh, he was not a coward. He was the bravest man I’ve ever known. He was and is a fucking hero and surely getting celebrated as one.”

Y/N leans back in her chair and grabs the remote from the bedside table, switching on the TV. A news report flickers across the screen. It’s a recording from a few weeks ago, but Homelander doesn’t know that. It shows a row of celebratory parades held all over the country. A statue of Soldier Boy is being erected next to the Statue of Liberty.

Homelander finally defeated. Soldier Boy dies a hero in fierce combat. America breathes a sigh of relief.

Homelander watches the news and reads the taglines as they scroll in front of his eyes. His mouth is agape in bewilderment before Y/N switches the television off again.

“Everyone loves him… and fucking hates you. Like spit-on-your-grave hate,” she summarizes and watches his face darken. She rises from her seat and smiles down at him. “Have a nice life chained to that bed till you rot to death, you dickfaced, inbred, garbage-eating fascist.”

With a wide smirk, she then leans down and whispers into his ear, “Those were my insults, by the way.”

“Well, he’s dead, and I’m fucking alive, which means I won,” Homelander snarls from the bed with a contrivedly triumphant sneer, rattling with his handcuffs. He’s close to an explosion, she can tell.

“Yeah, you’d be telling yourself that if it makes you feel better…”

With a roll of her eyes, Y/N turns her back. As she marches out of the room, Homelander’s furious screams of agony haunt the clinic’s empty hallways, but there is no one here to hear them anymore.

Project Bloom has been disbanded. There’s only a handful of CIA nurses left, tasked to take care of Homelander until his hopefully slow and painful death. If someone decides to hold a pillow over his head at any point, she supposes she wouldn’t be that mad about it either.

Homelander is history. Soldier Boy is dead. And Ben is at rest.

Finally, Y/N can leave this godforsaken place behind her.

Y/N slides into the driver’s seat of her Prius, her head falling back as she exhales a long, exhaustive breath and rubs her temples. That damn brat gave her a fucking migraine with his whiny bitching.

“Finally,” it huffs from the backseat. “Took you long enough. How the fuck did it go?”

Y/N blinks into the rearview mirror and catches a set of expectant green eyes. Her hand drops from her temples as she chuckles.

“Your handwriting is horrible,” she says as a response and pulls out the paper, pointing at a word. “What the hell is that one?”

Ben leans forward between the seats and squints his eyes. “Mmh, pube flosser,” he supplies and frowns. “You didn’t use that one?”

Y/N sighs. “I think he’s got the gist without it.”

“Yeah, but that was a good one,” Ben mumbles and sighs disappointedly. “Did you play him the song?”

“Yes, I did. I played him the song and did everything else you wanted me to do,” she confirms patiently. “You know, you’ve got a weird knack for torture.”

“Thank you. It’s a gift.” Ben blushes and adjusts his baseball cap. “Did you sell it properly? You know, acting is a skill. The most important thing is to–”

“Ben! For the love of God, shut up or I’ll run you over with my car,” Y/N snaps. If he gives her one more acting lesson, she swears she’ll turn herself a widow.

“Fine.” Ben scoffs and rolls his eyes back. “Did he fucking buy it?”

“Yup, he surely thinks you’re dead. Like the rest of the world,” Y/N says and shoots him a smile over her shoulder.

He matches it and scratches his shaved chin, letting himself fall back into the seat. “Good. So, we’re done, right?”

“Yeah, he was the last stop on our list,” she replies quietly, her smile mixing with sadness. “How’s the arm?”

“Good, good…” He nods, his head bobbing thoughtfully as he clutches the scar on his right bicep. “Healing nicely. Finally got a real war wound. Always wanted one.”

“Okay, then… Let’s go, I guess.” With a heavy swallow, Y/N turns the ignition and starts the car.

“You know, I’d really love to kiss you now,” Ben notes, heartache swinging in his voice, and finds her eyes in the rearview mirror.

Y/N bites down on her lip and nods. “Yeah, wouldn’t that be nice…”

Three weeks ago…

A guard gestures down the hallway to the restrooms, but as soon as Y/N rounds the corner and is out of sight, she takes a turn in the opposite direction.

The good thing about a super secret government facility that’s not supposed to exist is that it only comes with the necessary manpower. There’s no abundance of guards at every corner. It’s quiet and desolate.

Moreover, no one expects a silly and weak human to cause any trouble. It surely has its advantages to be constantly underestimated.

Y/N finds the lab she’s passed on their way in, where she spied a glass fridge with vials of different colors. It’s guarded, but only by one person. It’s sloppy, honestly.

A flirty ambush, a stab to the neck with a dull pocket knife, a stolen keycard, and she’s inside. She drags the body in, too, leaving no trace of her crime behind.

Her fingers rummage through differently labeled flasks. There’s plenty of blue and yellow, but not the poisonous green she’s looking for.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon…” she mutters to herself as she desperately searches every drawer, every goddamn cabinet of the laboratory.

Out of breath, she stops and grips her temples, shoulders slumping as her mind spins. She wants to curse and scream, but that would draw too much attention. She knows she’s running out of time. No one takes that long to fucking pee. Decisions have to be made quickly.

She grabs a blue vial.

Rolling down her sleeves, she walks nervously back into the control room. Neither Mallory nor Edgar pays her any mind. Everyone’s eyes are glued to Soldier Boy and Homelander. Father and son. It’s biblical.

It’s as if she isn’t even there.

Her veins twitch, her blood boils. It’s tingling in her fingertips.

“Little help would be fucking appreciated!” Ben yells as he wrangles with a defunct Homelander.

Stan Edgar’s smile. So vicious. So cold. So calculating.

She knows the air in the room is about to shift. Her hands ball into fists by her side, gather their energy.

He gives his command. She screams.

“No! That wasn’t the fucking deal!”

Edgar doesn’t even look at her fully. A sideways glance is all she’s worth. “Take her out, too.”

Mallory sees it first, her eyes widening when she realizes what’s going on. It’s too late to warn anyone, however, her cries for help unheard as the acid rots her throat.

Edgar and two guards are next, metal weapons melt and mix with a puddle of human soup on the ground. Then, she goes after the one that got away.

The third guard hurries inside the prison cell, but Y/N slips through the crack of the door before it slams shut. The first gunshot goes clean through Homelander’s spine, but the second is deterred and only strikes Ben’s arm as the guard bubbles to a pond, a hot spring in the concrete.

Ben clutches his bleeding wound with a hiss before his green eyes lock with hers. They widen, and it takes him a moment to make sense of it all.

“Y/N, what–”

He takes a step forward. She takes a step back.

“Don’t come near me,” she orders him with panic blinking in her eyes like a flashing alarm. Her chest rises and falls with every anxious breath.

He holds his palms up high, surrendering. “It’s okay.”

Ben carefully walks around her and steps over the bubbling human puddle on the floor. He peeks outside the door, purses his lips, and nods in impressed satisfaction.

“Those little blobs outside–”

Y/N bobs her head at his unfinished question. “Mallory and Edgar plus two guards,” she replies.

“Nice job.” He whistles lowly and shoots her a devilish grin, taking a step closer. “Gotta say, I’ve never been more turned on by you. I’m getting fucking hard.”

“Ben!” Y/N scolds and backs away from him until she’s pressed against the wall. “I told you, don’t touch me,” she warns him again.

Ben’s smile fades as he recognizes her fear. His features soften, the jokes disappear. “Hey, it’s alright. Twenty-four hours and you’ll be fine again. Just gotta get through it.”

Y/N shakes her head, tears welling in her eyes. Ben’s brow knits in confusion, his face stern.

“What-… Why are you shaking your head?”

A tear escapes and streaks her cheek. “It won’t go away in twenty-four hours,” she chokes out. “They were out of Temp V.”

Ben’s face drops at the realization. “No, no, no… Tell me you didn’t fucking do this!” he yells.

“They were going to kill you! What was I supposed to do?” Y/N explains tearfully.

“Die, Y/N! You were supposed to let me fucking die!” Ben’s jaw tightens as anger surges through his body.

“I didn’t let you die the first time! What made you think I would let you fucking die right now, huh?” Y/N cries through gritted teeth, her hands balling into fists. “Stop trying to kill yourself. You fucking promised me!”

Licking his lips, Ben swallows. He’s quiet, running a palm over his face while his mind races a mile a minute. “Okay… alright,” he says finally, his voice significantly calmer now. “Where did you get the Compound V from?”

“There’s a lab here,” she replies in the same calm manner.

“They got more?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Ben nods and finds her eyes. “Show me.”

Y/N presses her lips into a thin line, shaking her head once more. “No.”

His anger returns, nostrils flaring as his brow creases. “What d’you mean no?”

She swallows thickly. “Look, if you really wanna do this, then I won’t stop you,” she says, a pleading glimmer haunting her eyes. “But you finally got a chance. You can live the normal, boring life. You can go on road trips, see Mount Rushmore… I know you want to.”

Ben swipes his tongue over his teeth and averts his gaze. He pinches the bridge of his freckled nose, and Y/N can see that she’s right.

“I’m not even sure if I want powers,” she continues after a pause. “But at least this time it was my choice. And I don’t regret it if it means I got to save you, okay?”

When Ben finally looks at her, it breaks her heart. “I don’t wanna be alone.”

Y/N gives him a sad smile. “I know… And you won’t be. I promise.”

Their attention is then temporarily drawn to a groan on the ground. Y/N’s brow furrows as she looks at Homelander’s body and notices his fingers twitching.

“Is he still alive?”

“Looks like it,” Ben replies. But as Y/N gets ready to take care of the problem, he stops her, holding out his flat palm. “Wait, wait, wait… Judging by the wound, he’s gonna be a fucking vegetable. It’s a waste of a kill.” He then grins mischievously at her. “I’ve got a better fucking idea. The other question is: how the fuck do we get outta this place… alive?”

Y/N’s mouth opens, but she doesn’t have an answer aside from a helpless shrug for him. This is as far as she has planned. Actually, she hasn’t planned any of this at all.

“I might be able to help with that,” a woman’s voice sounds behind her.

Y/N’s eyes widen as she recognizes the newcomer, her mouth parting anew in both surprise and shock. Ben, on the other hand, furrows his brow and glares at the stranger as if she had just spoken Russian.

“Who the fuck are you?” Ben prompts and then leans closer to Y/N, whispering in her ear, “Kill her.”

Y/N frowns, but her eyes are glued to the young woman in front of her, the familiarity sinking in. “I can’t,” she grits through her teeth.

“Why the fuck not?” Ben asks now loud enough for everyone to hear, including their guest.

“Because I’m the president,” the woman replies, smiling complacently. “And an old friend.”

Ben’s brow creases even more. “President of what? Cunt-town?”

“The United States, Ben,” Y/N tells him flatly. If she could kick his leg right now, she would. Leave it to her husband to get them both killed.

“Wait, a skirt is president?” Ben arches an eyebrow and mutters, “No wonder this country’s going to shit…”

“Charming,” Victoria Neuman says with a small sigh, but seemingly unbothered by the old-school views. Much like Y/N, she ignores the comment and doesn’t take offense to it. “I can see why you married him,” she adds wryly, looking at Y/N.

“Technically, she wasn’t elected. She was Vice President till President Singer died… accidentally,” Y/N explains, knowing Ben only reads the paper for the sports section and the comic strip. She swallows the thick lump in her throat, her heart thrashing wildly in her chest.

“Ah, I know what that’s code for.” Ben smirks coolly. “Bold move. I can fucking respect that.”

“Yeah, God knows some old fuck’s approval is what I’m looking for,” Neuman taunts, the sarcasm dripping from her red-painted lips.

Ben’s face drops as a bit of anger bubbles up inside of him. That bitch is lucky he’s V-free. He forces a tight-lipped smile. “I’m just saying I would’ve done the same thing, okay?”

“No offense, but you’re too much of a moron for that,” Neuman replies dryly.

Ben’s nostrils flare as he grits, “Offense fucking taken.”

“Okay!” Y/N tries to cut the tension with a nervous chuckle, pushing herself between Neuman and Ben. “How about you just tell us what we have to do to get out of this one?”

“See? She’s smart,” Neuman says and smirks at Ben. “I’ve always liked you, Y/N. You know, when Stan and Grace told me their plan of getting you two involved, I warned them. But they just wouldn’t listen. Everyone always underestimates the orphan. I should know, and so do you. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

“Yeah, guess we’re MVP, after all, Nadia,” Y/N says and makes it a point to emphasize her real name.

Victoria just smiles in response. “So, since you took care of two problems for me, one in here and one out there, I have a proposal for you.”

“What is it?” Y/N knows she’s really out of choices. Either she agrees, or Ben and her will spend the afterlife together.

“I need a new Chief of Staff. I want you to do it. You’re smart, driven, and I know you wanna change shit around here. You wanna make a difference? This is your chance,” Neuman proposes. “You can’t take the cure again. It’s going to kill you. Trust me, we’ve done studies, and the results are not pretty.”

Y/N thinks for a few breaths. “What about Ben?”

“I guess he can live. It’s not like he’s a threat to anyone,” Neuman says and almost sounds bored. “Hell, for all I care, we can even make Soldier Boy a reformed hero for dealing with Homelander. He dies heroically in battle and quietly lives out his retirement in fucking Florida or some shit. We get him a big fucking statue. It’s good publicity.”

Y/N shares a look with Ben. “What d’you think?”

Thoughtfully, Ben clicks his tongue. He supposes it’s the best deal they can get, and declining it would probably get them nowhere, although he hates everything about it.

Swallowing, the former supe nods. “Alright, let’s fucking do this,” he agrees and states his conditions, “But for the record, I’m not moving to shit-ass Florida. I want a nice lake house in Minnesota.”

Victoria rolls her eyes. “Fine, whatever. Minnesota it is.”

“You okay? You ready?” Y/N checks as Ben has made it up the stone steps and halts in front of the big, red door.

“I don’t know. You really think this is a good idea? I’m not sure I can do this,” Ben says and insecurely eyes the entrance.

“You’ll do great, alright?” Y/N smiles encouragingly. “I believe in you.”

“I don’t wanna do this alone. What if I fuck up?” Ben asks.

Amused, Y/N chuckles. “Oh, you’re for sure gonna fuck up.”

The green-eyed man scowls. “That’s fucking reassuring. Thanks.”

“Look, this way you won’t be alone. I’ll wire you money every month and check in as much as I can, alright? You can always call me. This isn’t the end,” Y/N soothes his worries. “Maybe one day there’s a cure that’ll work, and we can be together again for real.”

She forces a weak smile to her lips, although she doesn’t believe her own words. But as long as Ben believes them, it’s enough.

“Okay.” Ben nods and takes a deep breath – in through his nose and out through his mouth. “I think I’m ready now.”

“Good.” Y/N sends him a smile. “You thought of a new name yet?”

“I’m still marinating on it,” Ben grumbles.

“Well, marinate faster. I have to introduce you.”

As they enter the orphanage, Y/N checks them in at the reception and fills out all necessary forms. Ben taps his foot nervously and scratches the back of his neck as they wait before one of Y/N’s former colleagues walks in with a little boy in hand, who’s no older than five.

Ben tries to smile but isn’t sure if it looks creepy, so he stops and opts for a more neutral expression. Y/N, however, immediately kneels down to the young boy and smiles brightly at him. It causes Ben’s heart to ache. She deserved to have all of this, but instead, she gave it all up for him.

“Hey, Benny,” she greets the boy. “You ready to meet your new adoptive parent?”

The boy scrunches his brow in careful suspicion as he eyes his future father-to-be. “I guess so,” he says. “Is that him? He looks like he drives a fucking minivan and offers candy to kids. Are you sure he’s not a pedo, Ms. Y/N?”

Ben purses his lips, biting the insides of his cheeks. The initial smile was definitely a mistake. They’re not off to a good start.

Y/N presses her lips together to muffle her snort. “Yes, Benny, I’m sure,” she replies patiently. “He’s cool, trust me.”

“Fine, whatever.” The kid rolls his eyes. “As long as he’s not fucking vegan like Ms. Teresa. They’re the worst.”

“Ugh, agreed! Do I look like a fucking plant-shitter to you?” Ben asks the boy rhetorically.

“No, you look like a fucking pedo to me,” the boy retorts.

Ben grins broadly at Y/N. “I like the kid. I think I get what you mean now. I see the resemblance.”

“Well, great. Glad you two are hitting it off… I think,” Y/N says with a crinkled brow, although a part of her is doubting her idea. Honestly, it’s wild she’s trusting him with a child. A year ago she would’ve thought that it was insane. “Alright, uh, Benny, this is, uhm–”

“Sam,” Ben proudly introduces himself with his fake name and shakes the kid’s hand. He then notices Y/N’s strange look. “What?”

“Nothing, just… you don’t really strike me as a Sam. That’s all,” she tells him in a whisper-tone, shrugging.

“Oh, really? Well, I don’t give a fuck. I love it,” Ben quips, grinning rather smugly.

“Fine.” Y/N sighs. She turns back to little Ben with a smile. “You guys ready to hit the road?”

“Where are we going?” Benny asks curiously and promptly takes Ben’s hand, dragging the older man through the doors. He’s been waiting to get out of the orphanage for a while, the excitement of finally being able to leave visible in every step he takes.

It’s a fresh start for both of them.

“Uh, Mount Rushmore,” Ben answers.

“Cool! Can we get burgers on the way there? I’m starving.”

“Sure can, kid.”

Y/N can see Ben’s initial hesitance until he eventually accepts it and eases into the situation, holding the boy’s hand tightly. He helps the kid into the car, even puts the seatbelt on, and shuts the door behind him.

Her heart twinges as she watches the two, wishing she could go with them if things were different. However, she knows the risk is too big. She would never forgive herself if she hurt either of them. She doesn’t trust herself enough yet. Maybe someday she can.

“You okay?” Ben asks as he sees the unshed tears brimming in her eyes. He’d dreaded this day for the past few weeks, hoping she’d still change her mind. He hates that this is goodbye, but he supposes he has to set her free now.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Y/N says with a forced smile, but a tear escapes and rolls down her cheek.

“C’mere.”

Y/N protests as Ben slings his arms around her and pulls her flush against him, holding her tightly. He hasn’t touched her since that night, but he doesn’t care anymore. He presses his lips against hers and tastes her one last time.

Breathlessly, Y/N withdraws and sniffles. “Are you fucking insane? I could kill you.”

Ben simply smiles at her. “Hey, if I die kissing you, then that’s a fucking great way to go out. ‘Sides, insanity is contagious,” he quips and sends her a wink. “Thank you… for everything, you know?”

“You’re welcome,” she says quietly and swallows harshly as the tears fall freely now. Not every film has a happy ending. “I guess I’ve done my job as your sponsor. You’ve been successfully rehabilitated.”

Ben snorts. “If by that you mean I’m fucking boring and responsible now then yeah, you’ve done your job.”

“You won’t be bored for long. The kid’s already trying to hotwire the car,” Y/N tells him, laughing.

“Wha–” Ben spins around and points a warning finger at the boy. “Ay! Hands in your fucking lap!”

The kid raises his palms in surrender and yells, “Hurry the fuck up!”

With a shaking head, Ben turns back to her. “Gotta watch that kid like an eagle,” he mutters. He exhales a dreaded breath and licks his lips. “So, I guess this is goodbye, huh?”

Y/N smiles softly, the corners of her mouth reaching her dimples. “Maybe.”

Little Ben gets me every time 😂 Alright, now you may yell and complain, but I love this bittersweet ending 🥲 (But of course, you're welcome to send in requests. Whether it's deleted scenes, bonus shots of a potential future, or some fun Big Ben/Little Ben drabbles)

Thank you so much for reading, for your gifs and comments! It's so appreciated! Without them, this would only be half the fun 🤍

I'll announce future plans soon. The final five of Plastic Hearts will probably be next up. Get ready 'cause it's another wild one! 🌟

Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey @deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies @agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @imsapphine @globetrotter28

Series Tags: @nancymcl @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @sparkydonugh

#rehab #soldier boy #the boys #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy reader insert #the boys reader insert #the boys x reader #the boys amazon #the boys season 3 #the boys fanfic #soldier boy fanfic

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zepskies · 1 year

Text

Break Me Down - Part 2

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: Surprise Sunday update! I was able to put the finishing touches on Part 2 a bit early. 😉

Song used in this chapter is “If I Didn’t Care” by The Ink Spots (but more like Amy Adams' version). Song inspiration for this chapter (and the song title) is “All My Livin Time” by Radio Company (Jensen’s band with Steve Carlson).

Word Count: 4,500 Warnings: 18+ only! Willful seduction, kidnapping, SB being himself lol.

Part 2: You Move Me, Baby

This next mission was going to be a bit more…hands on.

It was a gentlemen’s club, styled like a 1920s speakeasy, of all things. If nothing else, Soldier Boy was predictable.

Through a crack in the dressing room door, you didn’t see any gentlemen here. You saw a bunch of skeevy bastards.

For the record, you didn’t like this plan. But as Butcher once again pointed out, Soldier Boy’s less likely to fuckin’ recognize you than any of us.

And you certainly couldn’t (wouldn’t) imagine Butcher in rhinestone nipple tassels.

Right now, you were waiting to be assigned an outfit. Hopefully, you could just blend into the background of whatever performance act the stage manager wanted to slip you into. And you really hoped you wouldn’t have to striptease on stage.

In the meantime, you sat on a stool in a black lace bra, matching panties, and sheer pantyhose, while Annie was helping you with your stage makeup. Years as a pageant child had taught her well. You felt like Sandra Bullock in Miss Congeniality, fending off getting hairspray up her ass.

Sure, you had gone undercover several times, but this was slightly out of your wheelhouse. You bit your lip, forgetting that you were already wearing several coats of scarlet red lipstick.

Annie slapped your hand. “Stop it. You’re smudging my paint job.”

You had Butcher and M.M. to thank for arranging this little detail.

May they both rot in hell, you silently simmered.

“Oh, stop pouting. You look great,” Annie said. You caught the little smirk she was trying to taper down.

Then the manager’s head popped into the dressing room. When he verified that all the young women had at least their underwear on, he stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

“All right, listen up,” he said in Spanish. You understood just enough to follow what he was saying. “Angelica got food poisoning.”

You grimaced. Angelica was the main act. She had a whole burlesque-style routine with the rest of the women—for which you were meant to step in for one of the girls in the ensemble. Hopefully in the back.

“Daniela, you’re filling in,” said the manager, pointing to a busty brunette.

“What about the second act?” asked another girl. If you remembered right, her name was Raquel. “Dani can’t sing like Angelica to save her fucking life.”

“Excuse me, bitch. I sing better than you,” Daniela snapped back.

The manager rolled his eyes and clapped his hands harshly to end the bickering.

“Okay. Which one of you bitches can actually sing?” he asked, first in Spanish, then in English, you noticed as he glanced at you.

Annie looked at you with raised brows. You glared back at her.

Damn you for telling her about your childhood church choir days. You were sure your religious mother never thought you’d be using those talents like this.

“No,” you said firmly. Annie just smiled and waved the manager over.

That was how the two of them ended up all but pushing you on stage—after Annie had wrangled you into a shimmering red gown over your underwear and pantyhose. It was overlayed with delicate beading in intricate patterns. And it was easily the most beautiful thing you’d ever had on your body.

However, you did take issue with how long the slit was, running all the way up to your hip bone.

Not really ‘20s style, now is it? you thought sourly.

Annie just slapped your ass and guided you forward.

You shot back one last look at her—one that swore you’d have your revenge.

Then the curtain slid open.

Fuck me, you thought nervously. This was really happening!

The lights blinded you for a moment, and you blinked the glare out of your eyes. They soon adjusted as you forced yourself to move towards the microphone at the right-hand side of the stage, close to the live band. The pianist shot you a smile and a wink as he started to play in dulcet tones.

Steeling yourself, you grabbed the microphone with a slight tremor in your hands. You stared out into the crowd as the rest of the band joined in, slow and jazzy.

You’d informed the manager that you really only knew one song by heart.

“Eh, that is too slow,” he’d replied to you in English.

“It’s that, or Dani belts out in her best soprano,” you informed him. He sighed and waved a resigned hand.

“Get her the red one,” he told Raquel. She then handed you the dress on a hanger.

Now, you held the microphone between both hands and started the song your grandmother used to sing to you when you were a kid.

“If I didn’t care, more than words can say,” you began. “If I didn’t care, would I feel this way?”

You took in an unsteady breath. With each note, your voice was getting stronger, more confident.

“If this isn’t love, then why do I thrill? And what makes my head go round and round, while my heart…stands…still…”

As you eased into the rest of the song, you remembered your mission.

You scanned the dark room, rows of men of all ages, women serving drinks and food and their own bodies. You weren’t finding your target.

But this intel was good. The source was the girl you’d replaced in the show, and M.M. had already worked out her safe exit out of the city for a while.

There. You finally saw it.

Or rather, you saw him.

Towards the back, Soldier Boy sat at a large exclusive booth. He had a long joint propped between his fingers, and a working woman from the club already propositioning to service him. Her manicured hand eased down his chest.

He also seemed to have hired men sitting at a table nearby.

Your voice nearly hitched at the sight of him, but you forced yourself to take a calming breath during a musical interlude.

You knew Annie and the rest of the team were here in the club somewhere, to back you up. But Soldier Boy knew Butcher and his team were onto him. the bastard would recognize them. You were the distraction here.

And if he went away with that escort, he could easily disappear upstairs and hop out the window again, gone like a coil of weed smoke.

Somehow, you needed to keep his ass in his seat.

So your voice came back in strong for the final verse.

“If I didn’t care, would it be the same? Would my every prayer begin and end…with just your name?”

You watched Soldier Boy’s gaze drift toward the stage. Your lips curved as you held his eyes for a moment…but then, you coyly slid your gaze away.

Okay, what’s going to grab his attention…

You shifted on the stage, letting the curve of your hip and ass sway to one side. You raised your other foot on the tips of your toes. And the slit running up your leg slid open, revealing your tall silver heels and a smooth leg, all the way up to the inside of your thigh.

Unfortunately, you hadn’t been able to fit your gun holster this time.

“And would I be sure that this is love beyond compare…” Your voice rang out on the high note; at that climactic point, the music reached a crescendo.

You turned your head and looked directly into Soldier Boy’s eyes, and his mouth slid into a grin.

He was watching you.

Good.

“Would all this be true,” you sang, “if I didn’t care for you…”

As the final notes reverberated from the piano, applause and male whoops erupted from the crowd.

You slowly released the microphone, breaking off eye contact with your target.

Then you turned around, trying to hide the nervous tremor in your legs. You pressed a discreet hand to the communicator in your ear after the curtain fell behind you, and you told the team.

“He’s here.”

Annie was no longer backstage.

“Good job, crooner,” M.M. said on the comm.

“Watch him ‘til he’s ready to leave,” Butcher said to everyone.

You agreed and dodged the manager so you could slip to the back room within the dressing room.

You were about to change into your real clothes (and grab your gun), when you were stopped by a Latino man. Though he clearly wasn’t a local or a tourist. He looked ex-military, complete with a crew cut and dark beard.

“Soldier Boy would like to meet you,” he said in lightly accented English. You affected some doe-eyed shock, even though some of your surprise was genuine.

You’d just wanted to keep him watching the show. You hadn’t expected him to take the bait this much.

“Oh, wow…where? Now?” you asked.

“Now,” he confirmed. “Upstairs.”

He couldn’t even pick me up himself? Lazy, you wanted to tsk.

You spied the stage manager over by the doorway. He gave you a stern nod that told you that you had no choice but to accept.

Not that you ever intended to decline. Though of fucking course the manager had known Soldier Boy was here. He was probably a damn regular.

You gave Soldier Boy’s man a charming smile. “Lead the way.”

This wasn’t the plan, exactly. You decided it was even better though. Just infinitely more dangerous.

Even though you had years of training, honing your body and your mind in a fight, you weren’t a supe. You were, in fact, exceedingly breakable.

“Are you crazy, cherie?” Frenchie said on the comm.

You also thought you heard M.M. mutter an, “Aw shit.”

“She don’t got a choice now,” Butcher said. “But it’s a good play to get him alone. Slip her one of them hockey pucks.”

You heard M.M., Annie, Butcher, and Frenchie’s continued twittering back and forth about the change of plan. Meanwhile, you were being escorted upstairs.

Kimiko managed to maneuver into your path from the opposite direction, and she slipped a small disk into your hand as she passed you.

You gave her a grateful wink and discreetly placed the device into your bra while your escort wasn’t looking.

It wasn’t a dose of Novichok, but it was something that might keep Soldier Boy occupied for a moment. You intended to use it if he got too fucking handsy.

You were let into a room on the third floor. With the lavish way it was furnished, complete with a king-sized bed, it almost looked like a hotel room.

Yeah, Hotel California, you thought wryly, as the door shut behind you.

Soldier Boy sat at a table by the far wall, gazing out the window with yet another joint (or perhaps the same one?) and a generous pour of whiskey in his hand.

Even you could admit, he cut an attractive figure. He was dressed in light brown slacks, a matching suit jacket and a white dress shirt with the top buttons left open. A simple ensemble, but well-tailored and suited to the golden tan he’d developed here in South America. His beard was neatly trimmed, his short hair styled back in its familiar sweep on both sides.

Even seated, his posture was casual, yet controlled as his head turned to meet your gaze. A smile started to curve his lips.

Show time, you told yourself.

“You’re new,” he said. You tilted your head, a bit of flirtation in your smile.

“What makes you say that?” you asked.

He gave you an oh please look. With the hand that held his whiskey, he gestured with a curling finger.

“Come ‘ere. Don’t be shy,” he said. It was an order rather than a request, but you hid your instinctive annoyance.

You subtly took in a steadying breath. And you moved farther into the room. You didn’t stop until you were sitting opposite him at the window, crossing your legs beneath the table.

You could tell he’d expected you to take a seat in his lap, but to a degree, you didn’t want to do what he expected. He was likely paying the club well for this time. You didn’t want to make it easy.

You wanted him to be enticed. Invested in this moment.

And distracted, for as long as he let you.

You watched him glance down with interest at your bare leg peeking out. At your strappy silver heel shining along with your dress in the soft lamplight, which casted shadows across his profile.

“Want a drink?” he asked.

You were surprised he was offering you anything. You’d half-expected him to order you onto your knees already. Upon which, he would’ve received the gift currently residing in your bra a bit early.

You didn't want to take any drink you hadn't poured yourself, but you also needed to keep this act going...

"I'm not gonna fucking drug you," he said, reading the look in your eyes. "What would be the fucking point of that?"

Hmph. smart-ass motherfucker, you thought. But you didn't detect a lie.

You quirked your head and took the proffered sip from his glass. You wanted to play it cool, but maybe you also needed a little liquid courage.

“All right, easy on the booze. Get his guard down,” Butcher said in your ear. You resisted the urge to frown.

Could Butcher see you somehow too? Or was he just hearing the ice clinking in the glass as you gulped it down.

“Did you enjoy my performance?” you asked Soldier Boy.

“Still am, doll face,” he said with a smirk. You raised a brow.

“I’m not that new,” you replied, biting indelicately on a dark cherry. Your heeled foot slowly slid against the inside of his thigh.

It was his turn to raise brow. His head tilted with his smirk.

You didn’t know if he was more amused than turned on, but his gaze roamed openly over your legs, the cleavage on display, your dark red lips.

“Are you enjoying your stay in Medellin?” you asked, trying to keep the conversation going.

“Oh, yeah. I’m having a fuckin’ ball,” he said wryly. He dabbed some ash off his blunt with a finger.

There was something off there, and you didn’t miss it.

“You sound bored,” you said. Soldier Boy considered you with a lustful, challenging gaze.

“Maybe. You gonna help me with that, sweetheart?”

A flutter of nerves churned in your belly, but you used it, letting the feeling prickle awareness across your skin.

“Depends,” you said coyly.

Both his brows rose this time, as if he was surprised you were actually pretending to resist him.

“On?”

You subtly leaned forward when you gave him back his glass, allowing him to spy a bit more down your dress. You stared into his deep green eyes, and tried not to get lost yourself. He was an attractive man, but he was also your target. A job you intended to finish.

A smile played at your lips.

“On what excites you,” you replied.

By the way his eyes darkened, his smile curving, you thought he liked that answer.

Then his hand extended toward you, a silent command in his gaze. Steeling yourself, you tried your best to be graceful and sensuous when you took his hand. He playfully jerked you forward, making you fall into his lap.

You waved some dank weed smoke out of your face as you looked down at his amused one.

He was nearly down to the roach on his joint. Meanwhile, his free heavy hand slid up your bare leg, disappearing beneath your dress and making goosebumps spread across your skin. Your breath hitched, though you disguised it with a smile.

“You afraid of me, sweetheart?” he cooed.

Yes, if you were honest with yourself.

There was a false sense of security in his deep voice. You looked down into his eyes, very green and intensely focused on you, despite his air of nonchalance.

“Not really,” you replied. “Only that you might get ash on my dress.”

He chuckled, smoke blowing out his nose. He put out the joint in the ashtray and took another sip of his whiskey, likely to drown out the cotton taste in his mouth. You laid a hand on his chest, fingers spreading between the open buttons, and felt his warm skin.

He glanced up at you with another challenging tilt to his head. What are you gonna do now?

You met that challenge, boldly leaning down to press a kiss against his lips. You held his face, delving your fingers into his soft hair.

Soldier Boy grabbed your hips with a bruising force. It made you wince, instinctively biting into his lower lip. He uttered a pleased sound, guttural in this throat. You braced yourself against the wall behind him for leverage as his chair started to tip back.

Before either of you could fall, he lifted you effortlessly by the waist and pivoted, pinning you against that wall. Your legs wrapped around his waist as his tongue invaded your mouth, devouring you with hot and heavy hands holding you in place.

His fingers pressed into the flesh of your thighs, and you knew you couldn’t easily escape if you needed to.

This is getting out of hand…

He was busy kissing a wet and sloppy line down your neck, his beard scraping against your skin. It actually felt so fucking good to be touched. You hadn’t experienced it in so long, it almost startled you when your heated core pulsed with the friction you were feeling against the hardness in his slacks.

You would never admit it, but it wasn’t an act when you moaned into his ear. Fuck…

But when his hand again slipped under your dress and crept up your inner thigh, alarm bells triggered in your mind as panic started to set in. You panted for breath.

With him seemingly distracted, you reached down into your bra and grabbed the metal disk.

You gasped as Soldier Boy grabbed your wrist, tight as a vice. He looked down at you with a sly grin.

“You were fuckable in black, but red’s my favorite so far,” he said.

Your eyes widened. When the hell did he see me in black?

And then you remembered. You’d worn a black dress at the last club, where you got groped on the dance floor and found Soldier Boy’s latest note…

Had he hung around after all, watching you and the team pick up his clues?

And you realized, he knew exactly who you were.

Soldier Boy glanced down at your lips, then at the tops of your breasts heaving as you caught your breath. His eyes shone with mischief and lust.

“It’s a real shame. You’re probably a good fuck too,” he remarked. It sparked your irate disgust like a wildfire.

Then you smirked. “You can fuck this.”

You activated the disk in your hand and flicked it at him. He instinctively grabbed at his face, releasing you. The device attached to his cheek and electrified enough volts through his body to drop an elephant.

Maybe five. The CIA weapons specialist hadn’t been too sure.

And a star bolt shot Soldier Boy in the chest, shoving him away before he could grab at you.

You jumped back and continued to put several feet of distance between you and Soldier Boy, while Annie and the rest of your team poured into the room. They were poised for a fight, once Soldier Boy ripped the device off his face with a grunt. It probably hadn’t hurt him much, but he looked pissed now.

He rolled the kinks out of his neck and surveyed the room with a slow gait. He spared you a fleeting glance. You were now at the safety of Kimiko’s side, and Frenchie handed you a gun.

“Ah, the Scooby Gang,” Soldier Boy remarked. He nodded at Butcher. “This is how you repay me for taking care of Homelander? My own son.”

“He weren’t your fucking son,” Butcher replied. “I’d reckon you know that best of all.”

Soldier Boy’s lips twitched. Whether at a smile or a frown, you couldn’t tell.

“You found me, remember? So what, you got buyer’s remorse?” he said.

“See, the problem is, supes like you are what we call,” said Butcher, “a menace to fucking society.”

Soldier Boy’s lips pulled down into a frown. He looked a cross between annoyed and impatient.

“I fought for my country. I saved lives—”

“You took just as many as you might’ve saved,” M.M. interrupted. “And not just that building you burnt the fuck up last year.”

Soldier Boy hesitated at that. “You really wanna do this?”

You all really want to die? his eyes said. He got determined silence from all of you. He rolled his shoulders and adjusted his blazer.

“All right,” he shrugged.

Then all hell broke loose. You ducked for cover as Soldier Boy deflected the giant flare gun M.M. shot at him. With his bare hand.

Hired security then poured into the room—you assumed hired by Soldier Boy. And you protected Hughie from getting his neck snapped by shooting a man between the eyes.

You and M.M. continued to fight them off. Meanwhile, Kimiko and Annie tried to give Butcher and Frenchie a chance to get close with the Novichok gas on Soldier Boy.

You took care of three more men before you heard a low buzzing sound. You turned around, and a gasp fell from your lips when you saw Soldier Boy’s chest lighting up.

You knew what came next.

And so did Annie. She poured her all into her next star bolt—which managed to shove Soldier Boy through the window. She and Kimiko flew or otherwise ran out the window to follow him. While Butcher, Frenchie, and M.M. helped you fight off the last of the hired guns.

Finally, you covered Hughie as the five of you left the normal, human way, and ran down the stairs to exit the club. By the time you were able to join Annie and Kimiko, however, Soldier Boy had disappeared.

You glared down the dark, busy streets of Medellin.

Damn it!

You returned to the hotel disappointed and angry beyond fucking belief. Mostly at yourself.

After all the work you did, having to seduce and make out with that bastard, only to discover he’d made you long before you took the stage at the club.

Fucking hell, you thought angrily as you kicked at your suitcase. It sent your clothes tumbling across the dirty carpet, but right now you didn’t give a fuck. Damn cocky bastard.

In the bathroom, you kicked off your heels in relief. You looked yourself over in the mirror and found various cuts and bruises from the fight. Your softly curled hair was a shambles, along with your makeup.

Parts of your dress were torn, along with your pantyhose. Which was probably Soldier Boy’s doing, if you thought about it. You sighed.

You were about to start undressing, but then you heard something. A small sound, like a thump.

Your gun was on the table in the main room. Frowning in suspicion, you left the bathroom cautiously. Before your hand could close around your gun, a gloved hand grabbed your wrist.

You aimed a punch with your free one and caught a man directly in the jaw. He reeled back, but was quick to recover and try to grab you again.

While the guy was strong, you could feel that he wasn’t a supe. A human, you could deal with. He wore a mask over his face, but you could see he had shoulder-length brown hair. He was tall and lean, and one of his boots was strangely larger than the other.

You didn’t have time to focus on it. You redirected his following blow and used his strength against him, flipping him over your shoulder. Unfortunately, he landed on the table that held your poor laptop.

“Aw, shit,” you snapped with a grimace. You searched for your gun in the wreckage.

While you were somewhat distracted, he aimed a kick that caught you in the face, sending you onto your back with a pained cry. You quickly rolled over and got to your feet, just as your attacker threw out fist after fist.

You dodged and shoved away most of them, until he grabbed your arm and managed to crack his elbow into your temple.

You went down and hit your head hard against the bedframe.

And it was lights out.

You slowly, painfully woke up in a moving car.

You were suffering the cottony taste of a gag in your mouth and a musty bag over your head. Your wrists were tied in front of you, and it felt like you were shoved into the backseat. The car was quiet, save for the radio playing Latin pop on low volume.

You never would’ve thought Shakira would be the background track of your kidnapping, but here you were.

The car eventually stopped and you were dragged out, forced onto your feet on a cobblestone driveway. Then into a house.

…Well, this fucking sucks.

The thought rattled through your mind as you were led down a hallway, across a cold expanse of tile floor. You couldn’t see where you were going with this stuffy bag over your head, but you knew it was tile. Your bare feet all but scraped across it as they dragged you.

Whoever held your arms in a vice grip eventually forced you to sit in a rickety wooden chair. They pulled your wrists behind the chair and bound them together with a zip tie.

You felt the slit on your dress sliding open, so you crossed your legs, for whatever good that would do you. At the very least, it would give the impression that you were sitting here casually, and not (figuratively) shitting yourself with fear.

“What the hell is this?” a deep, familiar voice asked.

“A gift.” You knew this voice as well. Neither one instilled you with calm.

Then the bag finally came off your head. The gag did not, however. You knew your red dress was in unfortunate tatters. You knew you were bruised and scratched, and overall worse for wear.

But when your gaze found your kidnapper, you glared up at him with a stubborn tilt to your chin. Antonio, Señor Groping Bastard from the club, was smirking back at you.

What the fuck.

Then you noticed him.

Soldier Boy stared back at you with raised brows, and instant recognition in his eyes. His lips curved into a smirk.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

AN: 😬 So we finally made it to the prologue opener! Was it everything you thought it would be? How did you like her attempt at "undercover?" 🤭

And are you ready for what's coming next?

To keep reading: Part 3

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lila-lou · 19 hours

Text

✨ His only exception - Pt. 24/? ✨

Summary: 12 months ago, Butcher went above and beyond to have you join his team. You had a simple office job at Supe Affairs. The same thing every day, working from 9 to 5 and watching Butcher and his team defeat one renegade after another. One evening, however, something changed.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, angst, hurt, VERY soft Ben, Ben gets hurt

Word Count: 7322

A/N: This is part 24 of “His only exception”.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

Butcher leaned forward, his gaze fixed on Hughie as he spoke. "There's still no word from Soldier Boy or (y/n)", he growled, his frustration evident in his tone. "It's been too quiet. By now, Soldier Boy should have made a move, tried to take out the team. It´s been over a week. There's something off about this".

Annie paced back and forth, her expression troubled. "Maybe they're planning something", she suggested, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "Or maybe they're waiting for the right moment".

Butcher shook his head, his jaw clenched in frustration. "I don't buy it", he muttered, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "We need to find out what they're up to, and fast".

Annie sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "Let's face it, Butcher", she said resignedly. "If Soldier Boy wants us dead, we're as good as dead. We don't stand a chance against him".

Butcher's jaw tightened, his frustration evident as he slammed his fist against the table. "We can't just sit around waiting to die", he growled, his voice edged with determination. "We need to find out what they're planning and stop them before it's too late".

Hughie shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his gaze darting between Butcher and Annie. "I just… I can't believe (y/n) would betray us like that", he muttered, his voice tinged with disbelief.

Annie raised an eyebrow, her expression skeptical. "Did you forget that we all lied to her for weeks?", she pointed out. "She has every reason to be angry with us".

Butcher grunted in agreement. "Doesn't mean she'd side with Soldier Boy", he interjected, his voice gruff. "But we can't rule anything out. We need to be prepared for anything".

Annie let out a sarcastic laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. "Do you still not get it, Butcher?", she groaned, frustration evident in her tone. "Soldier Boy and (y/n) are head over heels for each other, and they're just too stubborn to admit it. But trust me, they'd die for each other".

Butcher's expression darkened at Annie's words. "Doesn't mean we have to accept it", he grumbled. "We need to find a way to stop them before they do something stupid".

You glanced over at Ben, concern etched on your features as you sat in the passenger seat of the car. "Are you sure about this?", you asked, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

Ben met your gaze, his expression resolute as he nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure", he replied, his voice firm.

With a deep exhale, you settled back into your seat, trusting Ben's decision despite your lingering doubts. As the car pulled away from the hotel, you couldn't help but feel a sense of apprehension about what lay ahead.

The news of Annie and A-Train taking over Vought in Homelander's absence sent shockwaves through the media, dominating headlines for days. Reports of Ashley's dismissal only added to the turmoil surrounding the company, leaving many speculating about the future of Vought and the Seven.

As you and Ben drove through the city, the chatter on the radio and the buzz of conversations around you were filled with speculation and uncertainty. Even after all those months. It was clear that the power dynamics within Vought were shifting, and the implications of Annie and A-Train's rise to prominence were yet to be fully realized.

So when Ben entered the bustling lobby of Vought Tower, clad in his imposing supe suit, a hush fell over the crowd. People stopped in their tracks, their eyes widening in disbelief and fear at the sight of him. The front desk staff immediately sprang into action, frantically dialing Starlight and A-Train, hoping to quell whatever disturbance Ben's presence might herald.

But Ben remained unfazed by the commotion around him, his gaze fixed on his destination as he strode purposefully through the crowd towards the elevators. The air crackled with tension as he passed, his mere presence casting a shadow over the bustling lobby.

As you waited in the car, a sense of anxiety gnawed at your insides. You watched the chaos unfolding through the windshield, your heart pounding in your chest as you wondered what Ben was up to inside the building.

Despite the order to stay put, you couldn't help but feel a surge of worry for Ben's safety. You fidgeted in your seat, torn between the urge to rush inside and the knowledge that Ben had instructed you to stay in the car for your own protection.

As Ben entered the top floor, Annie and A-Train stood with arms crossed, their expressions guarded. Butcher and the rest of the team stood nearby, tension thick in the air.

Ben's arrival caused a momentary pause in the commotion, all eyes turning to him. With a wry grin, he addressed Butcher.

"Did you miss me?", he quipped, his voice laced with amusement despite the underlying tension.

As Ben strode past them, his presence commanding attention, Butcher tensed, ready for a confrontation. However, Hughie's restraining hand on his arm halted his advance, a silent plea for patience.

Meanwhile, Ben found his place at the head of the table in the meeting room of the seven, legs crossed casually as he leaned back in his chair. With a commanding tone, he addressed the room, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife.

"Sit down", he ordered, his gaze sweeping over each member of the assembled group, his authority leaving no room for argument.

With a flash of his glowing chest, Ben's voice took on a more aggressive tone, his patience wearing thin as he bellowed, "I said sit the fuck down!".

His words echoed through the room. Slowly, the members of the group complied, taking their seats with wary glances exchanged among them.

With that, Ben stood up again and paced back and forth behind their chairs. "Now fucking look at you all", he remarked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "A bunch of good little pussies, sitting here like obedient lapdogs".

As he approached Butcher, his footsteps echoed ominously in the silence of the room. With deliberate intent, he placed both hands firmly on Butcher's shoulders, exerting just enough pressure to convey his dominance.

"Now, listen up", he began, his voice low and commanding. "We've got some serious shit to discuss, and I won't tolerate any bullshit. You fucking hear me?".

Ben's grip tightened slightly on Butcher's shoulders as he continued his speech.

"Now, first things first", he declared, his tone firm and unwavering. "You're all still breathing thanks to your friend, (Y/N). She convinced me not to rip each and every one of you to shreds". It wasn´t a lie. The two of you talked about it over and over again.

There was a hint of begrudging respect in his words, an acknowledgment of your influence over him in that crucial moment.

Ben's steps echoed across the polished floor as he made his way back towards the head of the table, his arms folded across his chest in a display of dominance. His gaze swept over the assembled group, each member tensing under his piercing stare.

"But here's the thing", he continued, his voice low and dangerous. "One fucking wrong move, and not even her pretty little mouth will be able to stop me from ripping each and every one of your cocksucking heads off".

His words hung heavy in the air, a warning of the consequences they would face if they dared to cross him again. The room fell silent, the tension palpable as everyone processed the gravity of his threat.

Ben's smirk widened into a self-assured grin as he delivered his next words with unmistakable confidence.

"So how about welcoming the new fucking head of Vought?", he declared. "America's first supe. Myself. I'm fucking America now".

His proclamation sent shockwaves through the room, the implications of his statement sinking in as everyone processed the magnitude of what Ben had just declared.

As Butcher began to rise from his seat, Ben swiftly raised a finger, shaking his head in a warning gesture.

"Uh-uh", he grinned.

Then, his voice rose to a thunderous roar, echoing through the room as he bellowed, "You sit the fuck down!".

Ben´s eyes starting to glow which left everyone breathless and frozen in place, cowed by the sheer force of his power.

"You know, actually, you did something good with capturing me", he admitted, his eyes no longer glowing with anger. "Leaving me alone with just my thoughts and my body I couldn´t fucking move, bringing my head pretty much back to russia… I discovered some stuff about myself".

He paused for a moment, looking at his hands as he continued, "Seems like the Russians actually gave me some strong updates, you know, all that radioactive energy. I can channeling it".

As he spoke, his hands began to emit a faint glow, a tangible manifestation of the power coursing through him.

What Ben didn't mention, however, was the difficulties he still had in controlling his power and himself.

"So since none of you got a fucking complaint", he declared, his tone firm, "I'll wait until 8 tonight to make this shit official. We will discuss everything else then".

His words hung in the air. "And now, leave the fucking building!".

The team began to file out, not wanting to escalate the situation further.

As everyone left, Ben texted you to come up. Just as you stepped into the elevator, your heart skipped a beat when you were met with Jay standing there. His presence sent a jolt of surprise and uncertainty coursing through you, momentarily stealing your breath.

"Jay…", you uttered his name, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jay's expression was a mix of concern and frustration as he spoke, his words tumbling out in a rush as he struggled to articulate his thoughts. "I haven't heard from you in two weeks", he began, his voice tinged with worry. "What's going on?".

You swallowed hard, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you as you met Jay's gaze. "It's… complicated", you murmured, your voice barely audible above the hum of the elevator.

Jay's expression softened slightly as he stepped closer to you, his eyes searching yours for answers. "Where have you been?", he asked, his tone filled with genuine concern. "I've been worried sick".

As the elevator came to a stop at the top floor, you struggled to find the right words, but Ben's footsteps echoed already towards the elevator, his expression darkening as he caught sight of you speaking to some guy.

"Who the fuck is this little bitch?", Ben's voice cut through the tension, his eyes narrowing as they locked onto Jay. His jaw clenched at the sight of another man talking to you.

Feeling the weight of Ben's intense gaze, you struggled to find the right words. You turned to Ben, a pleading look in your eyes.

"Ben, can you give us a few minutes?", you asked, your voice trembling slightly. Despite the urgency of the situation, you needed a moment to compose yourself and figure out how to navigate the delicate balance between your past with Jay and your present with Ben.

Meanwhile, Jay took a step back, his expression wary as he sized up the situation. He could sense the tension radiating from Ben and wisely chose to give you space to handle it.

Ben's brows furrowed deeper, his expression hardening as he regarded you with suspicion. "What for?", he demanded, his voice low. He wasn't about to entertain any delays or distractions, especially not when another man was involved.

You groaned in frustration, realizing that revealing the truth about your relationship with Jay would only escalate the situation further. But still, you had to be honest. Knowing Ben, he wouldn't give up so easily. With a heavy sigh, you mumbled, "This is Jay… We… dated".

Jay raised an eyebrow at your choice of words, his expression shifting to one of confusion. "Dated? Past tense?", he questioned, his tone betraying his uncertainty. "Since… you never broke up with me".

As Ben's anger flared, his eyes narrowed dangerously at Jay. He didn't take well to the revelation of your relationship, feeling betrayed that you hadn't mentioned any other man before. That you fucking dated someone while he was gone.

He was about to advance towards Jay, his intent clear in his demeanor, but you sensed the impending danger. With a quick movement, you stepped between them, desperation evident in your pleading gaze as you looked up at Ben.

"Ben, please", you pleaded, your voice trembling with urgency. "Don't do this".

It took a few moments before Ben roughly pulled you out of the elevator by your upper arm, pressed the exit button, and watched as Jay stood in the elevator and the door closed.

Turning towards you, Ben's gaze bore into yours, a mixture of anger, hurt, and frustration evident in his eyes. His jaw clenched even more as he struggled to contain the swirling emotions within him.

"You didn't tell me someone", Ben growled. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me about him?".

You winced at his tight grip, feeling the bruises already forming beneath his fingers. But actually Ben held back for your sake. Usually your arm would be broken by now.

"I-I wanted to, but…", you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper as you met his intense gaze. "I thought you were dead, Ben. I didn't think I would ever see you again".

"And you moved on that fucking quickly?", he snapped, his grip on your arm tightening momentarily before he released you. "You thought I was dead, so you just found someone else?".

You took a step back, feeling the weight of his words bearing down on you. "No, Ben, it wasn't like that", you protested, your voice tinged with regret as you rubbed your upper arm. "I thought I had lost you forever. I was lost and alone, and Jay was there for me".

His expression twisted with a mixture of disgust and disappointment. The sight of it made your heart clench in anguish.

Ben´s his hands clenching into fists as he watched you with intensity. Even though he didn't want to hear it, he knew he had to confront the question burning in his mind.

"Did he fuck you?", he demanded, his voice low and harsh, his eyes boring into yours with a mixture of fury and hurt.

As you didn’t answer right away, Ben pushed you back against the wall, his frustration boiling over into anger. His voice rose to a yell as he demanded an answer.

"I asked you a fucking question!", he roared, his tone laced with desperation and rage. "Did he fuck you?".

Your heart skipped a beat, torn between fear of Ben's state and your own rising anger. Without thinking, you reacted, lashing out and punching him in the face, the impact breaking your wrist in the process.

"F-fuck, he didn't!", you cried out, your voice trembling with pain and frustration. "Of course he fucking didn't!".

You cradled your injured wrist, wincing as the pain shot through you, a physical reminder of the chaos unfolding between you and Ben.

Ben staggered back, his hand flying to his cheek where you had struck him. Shock flashed across his face, mingling with the anger still burning in his eyes.

"You fucking punched me", he exclaimed, his voice incredulous as he stared at you in disbelief. "Are you out of your fucking mind?".

Despite the pain radiating from your broken wrist, you met his gaze defiantly, your jaw set with determination.

"I'm not going to let you treat me like this", you yelled, your voice quivering with a mixture of pain and anger. "I'm not just some bimbo you can push around whenever you feel like it. And if you ever lay a hand on me again, I swear, I'll fucking leave you!".

Your words hung in the air between you, heavy with the weight of their implications. Despite the intensity of the moment, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness at only the thought of walking away from the man you loved.

Ben pressed his lips together and tried to calm himself down. Losing you was the worst thing that could happen to him. He took a deep, very deep breath, before he placed a hand on your lower back and guided you towards the office kitchen.

You shot him a glare, your eyes flashing with defiance, but he merely rolled his eyes in response.

"Stop bitching around", Ben muttered under his breath, his voice laced with frustration. Despite your attempts to pull away, he maintained a firm grip on your lower back, refusing to let you slip from his grasp.

In the kitchen he fumbled out a bandage from the first aid kit.

"You brought this on yourself, you know", Ben mumbled, his tone tinged with sarcasm as he carefully wrapped the bandage around your throbbing wrist. "Trying to take a swing at me like that. That's the price you pay for trying to hurt the big bad supe".

Despite the pain in your wrist, you couldn't help but roll your eyes at his remark.

After a moment, Ben cupped your cheek, a conflicted expression crossed his face. His gaze softened as he looked into your eyes, a silent apology lingering in the depths of his stare. Despite his pride, he knew deep down that he had overreacted, but his stubbornness prevented him from vocalizing his regret.

For a moment, the tension between you seemed to melt away as you gazed at each other, the weight of unspoken apologies hanging in the air.

As the tension eased between you, Ben leaned in, pressing his lips gently against yours. The kiss was tender, a silent reassurance of his feelings despite the what just had happened.

With a swift motion, Ben lifted you onto the kitchen counter, his hands firmly gripping your ass cheeks as he positioned himself between your legs without breaking the kiss. The intensity of his touch sent shivers down your spine.

Your healthy hand wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, your lips moving in sync with his in a desperate need for connection.

As the kiss deepened, Ben's hands roamed over your body, tracing the curves of your hips and thighs with a possessive urgency.

With each caress, you felt yourself melting into his embrace, your desire for him growing with every passing moment. His lips moved hungrily against yours.

Unable to resist any longer, you arched your back, pressing your body closer to his as the heat between you intensified.

As Ben's lips moved against yours, a low, guttural groan escaped from deep within his chest. "You're mine", he murmured between kisses, his voice rough with desire. "No one else is supposed to touch you like this".

His hands roamed up your thighs, pushing up your skirt roughly as he pulled you closer to the edge of the counter. The urgency in his touch spoke volumes, conveying the depth of his need for you in that moment.

You moaned softly in response, the sensation of his hands on your skin sending shivers down your spine.

As Ben struggled with his supe suit, his hands trembling with need, you steadied yourself on his biceps, your fingers gripping the fabric of his suit.

With careful movements, you avoided putting too much pressure on your injured wrist, mindful of the pain it still caused you. Despite the discomfort, the urgency of the moment spurred you on.

As his belt finally gave way under his fingers, he let out a low growl of satisfaction, his gaze locking with yours as he stepped even closer, the heat of his body radiating against your skin.

With a smirk, Ben pulled out his throbbing dick, his gaze dark with desire as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties, pulling them aside.

"You're always wet for me", he teased, his voice husky with arousal. "I don't even need to check".

His words sent a shiver down your spine, anticipation building as you felt the heat of his breath against your skin.

You couldn't help but voice your concern as Ben positioned himself between your legs, ready to thrust inside you.

"What if someone walks in?", you asked, a hint of worry in your voice.

Ben chuckled, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Let them walk in. I want everyone to see how badly you need me".

His words sent a shiver down your spine as you realized just how possessive and dominant he could be.

As Ben bottomed out with the first rough thrust, a gasp escaped your lips, your breath hitching in response to the sudden, overwhelming pleasure.

His lips curled into a smirk as he felt your body respond to him. "That's it, sweetheart", he murmured. "No one else can make you feel this good, can they? Only me".

As Ben began to move, his thrusts becoming urgent and desperate, you surrendered completely to the pleasure he offered.

Your head fell back, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you surrendered to the sensation of being filled by him once again. The wet sound of your pussy echoed in the room, mixing with the rhythm of his movements as he pushed himself deeper with each thrust.

Every minute without him had felt like an eternity, but now that he was here, buried inside you, you couldn't get enough of him.

Ben's gaze was fixed on you, his intense stare capturing every small movement and reaction as he thrust into you. He was completely focused on the sweet sounds you made with each movement of his hips, savoring every gasp, moan, and whimper that escaped your lips.

With a low growl of satisfaction, he leaned in closer. "You sound so fucking good, sweetheart. I could listen to you all day".

With his words, your body tensed around him, your inner muscles clenching tightly around his throbbing length. The sensation was enough to send Ben over the edge, his own release crashing over him in powerful waves.

With a guttural groan, he spilled himself deep inside you, his hot seed flooding your core as he continued to thrust into you.

Ben collapsed against you, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as you both savored the intimacy of the moment.

He savored the intoxicating scent of your skin mingled with the faint trace of your perfume. He couldn't help but feel a surge of desire coursing through him. The heady mix of his powerful presence, the tight confines of his supe suit, and the vulnerability he allowed himself to feel in that moment sent another wave of heat straight to your core.

You couldn't suppress a gasp as you felt the familiar throbbing sensation between your legs, your body responding instinctively to his proximity. Ben groaned softly against your skin, his breath hot against your neck as he too felt the undeniable pull of desire.

Lost in the moment, you pressed yourself closer to him, craving the feel of his strong arms around you and the electric connection between your bodies.

Ben carefully pulled out of you, his movements deliberate as he made sure none of his seed spilled. With practiced ease, he helped you adjust your clothing, pulling your panties back up your body.

"There", he murmured, his voice laced with a mixture of satisfaction and tenderness. "All taken care of".

“Keep it inside”, Ben ordered.

You raised an eyebrow at him, a hint of amusement dancing in your eyes. "Again?".

Ben chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leaned in closer. "Yes, again”, he whispered huskily. "It turns me on knowing you're filled with me".

You couldn't help but blush at his boldness, feeling a surge of arousal at his words.

You hesitated for a moment, the thought of Ben's cum still inside you was both thrilling and slightly nerve-wracking. But the intensity of his gaze and the desire evident in his voice left you unable to resist.

"Keep it inside until tonight", he mumbled, his voice commanding yet tinged with a hint of anticipation. "I want you to sit through the meeting with me, knowing that my cum is creaming your sweet little pussy".

You swallowed hard but nodded.

After a few minutes of making sure you can stand on your own feet again, Ben made his way downstairs, his presence commanded attention, and the heads of departments from Vought fell into line, their expressions a mixture of surprise and apprehension. Standing before them, Ben wasted no time asserting his authority, making it clear that he was the one in charge now.

"I'm calling the shots from now on", he declared firmly, his voice carrying authority as he addressed the assembled group. "Any orders come from me, and you follow them without fucking question. Understood?".

His words left no room for dissent, and the heads of departments nodded in acknowledgment, knowing better than to defy Soldier Boy.

With his position as the new leader firmly established, Ben wasted no time in outlining his expectations and directives for the future of Vought. He laid out plans for expansion, innovation, and increased profitability, his vision for the company clear and ambitious.

As the meeting progressed, Ben's confidence and decisiveness left a strong impression on those in attendance. Despite initial skepticism, many began to see the potential for growth and success under his leadership.

after what felt like an eternity, Ben entered his office , his eyes locked onto you sitting on the couch, a mixture of pride and possessiveness evident in his gaze. He made his way over to you.

"You look good there", he remarked. "That's where you belong, by my side".

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his slightly misogynistic comment, but a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips nonetheless.

Ben reached out to gently pull you to your feet, being careful of your injured wrist.

"Everything went according to plan", he mumbled. "I made it clear who's in charge now".

You nodded, relieved to hear that everything went smoothly. "That's good to hear", you said, a sense of pride in your voice.

Ben pulled you close against his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, he began to pepper kisses along your neck.

"You know", he murmured teasingly against your skin, "you're getting fucked by the strongest and mightiest being on the planet".

You couldn't help but chuckle at his teasing tone, a playful glint in your eyes as you tilted your head to give him better access to your neck.

"And here I thought I was just getting fucked by an arrogant, egotistical supe on coke", you teased back, a smirk playing on your lips.

Ben let out a low growl, his grip tightening around you as he nipped lightly at your skin. "Watch your mouth, sweetheart", he warned, his voice husky with desire. "Or I might have to remind you who's really in fucking charge here".

"Ooh, I'm scared", you mocked. "What are you gonna do? Spank me?".

Ben's lips curled into a wicked grin, his warm breath ghosting over your skin. "Maybe I will", he murmured, his voice low and seductive.

Your heart raced at the promise in his words, a thrill of anticipation coursing through you as you pressed closer to him, eager for whatever he had in store.

Ben's gloved fingers slipped under your skirt and into your panties. You gasped at the sudden sensation.

"You're really eager to check, aren't you?", you teased, a smirk playing on your lips as you met his heated gaze. "Can't get enough of your own handiwork?".

Ben chuckled as he traced his fingers along the delicate folds of your pussy. "I just want to make sure you're still full of me", he murmured. "And if not, I'll just have to fill you up again".

With a sly grin, Ben brought his hand back from beneath your skirt, his middle finger glistening with a mixture of his and your cum. Holding it up to your lips, he teased you with the intoxicating scent, his gaze smoldering with desire.

"Open up", he commanded softly, his voice thick with arousal as he watched you intently.

Your heart raced as you obediently parted your lips, welcoming his finger inside your mouth. The taste of your combined essence flooded your senses, igniting a fiery hunger within you as you sucked his finger greedily.

Ben's smirk deepened as he watched your eager response, his own desire mounting with each passing moment. With a satisfied hum, he slowly withdrew his finger from your mouth, his eyes dark with lust as he gazed down at you.

"Look what you do to me", Ben commanded. His hand guided yours towards the prominent bulge beneath his suit.

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the undeniable evidence of his arousal pressing against the fabric, the heat of his desire palpable against your hand. With a mixture of excitement and anticipation, you eagerly traced the contours of his bulge, reveling in the power you held over him.

Ben's grip tightened on your hand as he watched you. "You like that, don't you?", he murmured. "You like knowing how much you turn me on".

You could only nod in response, your own desire mounting with each passing second. With a hungry growl, Ben captured your lips in a searing kiss, his need for you burning hotter than before.

With the sound of footsteps approaching, Ben reluctantly pulled away from you, his lips lingering for a moment before he stepped back, adjusting his supe suit.

"I would love to continue this", he murmured, "but business is calling".

You nodded softly, your own pulse still racing with excitement. As Butcher and the rest of the team entered the room, Ben straightened, his demeanor shifting back to his authoritative self.

Butcher's sarcastic tone cut through the tension in the room as he asked, "So, you two bloody lovebirds ready?".

Annie's gaze shifted between you and Ben, her expression unreadable. You cleared your throat, trying to regain your composure as you followed Ben towards the office of the Seven.

As Ben pulled back the chair for you, he gestured for you to take a seat at the head of the table. Meanwhile, he positioned himself slightly behind you, standing in front of the window.

"Alright, listen up", Ben began, his voice commanding attention. "Here's the plan: you lot are the new Seven. Not because I like you, but because I need to keep you under fucking control".

His words were firm as he laid out his intentions for the future of the team.

Butcher's expression hardened as he crossed his arms, clearly not thrilled with Ben's plan. "And why the bloody hell should we listen to you?", he challenged, his tone defiant.

Ben's jaw tightened as he met Butcher's gaze head-on. "Because if you don't, you'll regret it", he replied firmly. "And I'm not asking for your fucking approval, Butcher. I'm telling you how it's going to be".

A-Train spoke up, his voice tinged with skepticism. "And what if we don't fall in line?", he asked, his tone challenging.

Ben's lips curled into a smirk, his gaze shifting to A-Train with an air of superiority. "Oh, you think I'll kill you if you don't?", he retorted. "No, A-Train. I won't kill you. But I'll make your life a living hell until you wish you were fucking dead".

Fortunately, no one made any major moves. Probably because no one wanted to escalate the situation. At least not at this moment

Ben dismissed the team and they filed out of the room, he turned to you with a determined look in his eyes.

He reached out, gently cupping your cheek in his gloved hand, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the intensity of the moment.

"I need to make some preparations for tonight", he said. "Will you be okay here on your own for a while?".

You nodded, offering him a reassuring smile. "Of course, Ben. I'll be fine. Just take care of what you need to do".

Ben's lips curved into a faint smile at your reassurance. "Good", he murmured, his gaze softening as he looked into your eyes. "After all this, I have a little surprise for you".

Your eyebrows lifted in curiosity at his words, a hint of excitement bubbling within you. "A surprise?", you echoed, unable to suppress the smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Ben leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead before pulling away. "Yeah", he replied cryptically, his voice tinged with anticipation. "But you'll have to wait and see".

With that, he turned and left the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the promise of something special to come.

Two hours later, amidst a throng of flashing cameras and eager reporters, Ben stood tall and confident as he addressed the gathered media.

"I am pleased to announce that I have taken over Vought Industries", he declared, his voice projecting authority and assurance. "I am committed to working closely with the government to ensure the safety and well-being of our citizens, and to restore trust in our heroes".

The reporters clamored to ask questions, but Ben remained composed, his answers measured and deliberate as he outlined his vision for the future of Vought and its role in society.

As the press conference came to a close, Ben stepped away from the podium, a sense of accomplishment evident in his demeanor. He knew that this was just the beginning.

Despite the limited number of questions he answered, the media seemed satisfied with Ben's brief appearance and his vague yet promising statements. After all, as Soldier Boy, he wasn't an unknown figure, and his sudden rise to power at Vought was sure to generate headlines and speculation for days to come.

As you wandered through the top floor of Vought, your thoughts swirled with the events of the past year, from the tumultuous ups and downs to the unexpected twists and turns. Lost in contemplation, you were startled when Ben suddenly appeared before you.

"Hey", Ben murmured softly as he closed the distance between you, his warm smile melting away the tension that had built up within you. "There you are".

His voice held a hint of relief, as if seeing you had eased some invisible burden from his shoulders.

"Are you ready to head out?", Ben inquired, his gaze lingering on yours as he awaited your response.

You nodded softly.

As Ben placed his hand on your lower back and guided you towards the elevators, you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort and security in his presence.

As Ben drove out of the city after getting some takeaway, you couldn't help but feel curious about your destination.

"Where are we going?", you asked, your voice betraying your fatigue.

Ben grinned mischievously. "I told you it´s a surprise", he replied, his eyes twinkling with excitement.

You sighed, leaning back in your seat. "I hope it's worth the mystery".

"Trust me, it'll be worth it", Ben assured you, his gaze fixed on the road ahead.

As Ben parked the car in front of a cozy house surrounded by beautiful nature, you couldn't help but feel a sense of tranquility wash over you.

"Is this… where we're staying?", you asked, a hint of surprise in your voice.

Ben nodded, a pleased smile spreading across his face. "Yep, this is it", he replied, his eyes scanning the surroundings with contentment.

You glanced around, taking in the peaceful scenery. "It's beautiful", you remarked, feeling a sense of relaxation settle over you.

Ben grinned. "I'm glad you like it", he said, his voice soft with affection.

With a smile, you leaned over to give him a quick kiss before stepping out of the car, excited to explore your temporary retreat in the midst of nature.

With the takeaway food in hand, you followed Ben to the front door. He turned the key and pushed the door open, ushering you inside.

As you stepped into the cozy interior, you glanced around, taking in the warm and inviting atmosphere of the house. The soft glow of the lamps cast a comforting light over the living room, and you noticed a crackling fireplace in the corner, filling the space with a cozy ambiance.

“This place is amazing”, you remarked, a smile playing at your lips as you set the food down on the nearby table.

Ben´s grin widend, pleased by your reaction. “Fucking glad you think so”, he replied, closing the door behind you.

As Ben rubbed his neck nervously, he took a deep breath before speaking. "Cause… I actually bought this place", he confessed, his gaze flickering to yours.

Your eyes widened in astonishment, and for a moment, you were rendered speechless by his revelation.

Sensing your surprise, Ben hesitated, his nerves palpable as he continued. "I know it's sudden, but… I was thinking, maybe you'd like to… stay here with me?", he asked tentatively, his words hanging in the air as he awaited your response.

Ben was nervous. Fucking nervous. You've never seen him like this before.

You cleared your throat, feeling the weight of his question hanging in the air. Hesitantly, you met his gaze and quietly asked, "Are you asking me to move in with you?".

Ben's heart raced, his vulnerability making him feel somewhat exposed. He took a deep breath before meeting your eyes again. "I just want to know you're safe, that's all".

As Ben's words sank in, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of warmth in your chest, but at the same time, a twinge of disappointment lingered. Despite all you've been through together, he still hadn't asked you to be his girlfriend or shown any clear commitment.

Biting your lip, you tried to hide the subtle sadness that crept into your expression, unsure of how to respond.

"I appreciate that, Ben", you said softly, forcing a small smile despite the conflicting emotions swirling inside you. "And I feel safe with you too. But…", you trailed off, unable to find the right words to express your thoughts.

As Ben sensed your sadness, he stepped closer and placed both of his hands on your lower back, pulling you gently towards him.

"But what?", he asked softly, his gaze searching yours with concern.

Ben's heart raced with apprehension, his usual confidence faltering in the face of vulnerability. He feared your rejection, uncertain of how to navigate this unfamiliar territory.

As tears welled up in your eyes, Ben's heart clenched with regret. This wasn't how he envisioned this moment. He had hoped that buying the house for the two of you would bring you joy, not tears.

With gentle hands, Ben lifted your chin, his touch tender as he looked into your eyes, searching for answers.

"Baby, what's wrong?", he asked. "Talk to me".

With a hesitant breath, you finally voiced the question that had been weighing on your mind for months.

"Where do we stand, Ben?", you whispered softly, your voice barely audible as you searched his eyes for an answer.

Ben's heart raced faster, his mind scrambling for the right words to say. He wasn't prepared for this conversation, not ready to confront his own feelings and desires.

"I don't know", he finally admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty as he looked into your eyes. "I care about you, more than I can put into words. But I'm not sure where we stand".

Feeling your heart shatter, more tears gathered in your eyes. With trembling hands, you pulled back from Ben's touch. The uncertainty in his words cut deeper than you expected, leaving you feeling vulnerable and exposed.

"I understand", you whispered, your voice barely audible as you fought to keep your emotions in check. "I… I need some time to… to think".

Your words hung heavy in the air, the weight of the moment pressing down on both of you as you grappled with the uncertainty of your relationship.

Ben sighed heavily, his hand reaching out to gently grasp your arm. "Please", he said softly, his voice tinged with desperation. "Let me explain".

But you couldn't bear the thought of more uncertainty, the hurt too raw and overwhelming. Pulling away from his touch, you shook your head, unable to find the words to express the depth of your pain.

"No. I… I need to be alone right now", you mumbled, turning towards the door to leave.

You told him you loved him and he just couldn't bring himself to tell you how he felt about you. After all, he was the first man you had confessed your feelings to. You just felt so stupid. Maybe he just didn't love you the way you loved him?

Ben sighed again, his heart heavy with regret as he watched your tears fall. "Let me at least drive you to the next hotel. I can't stand the thought of leaving you like this".

You hesitated, torn between your desire to be with Ben and your need for clarity in your relationship. Finally, you nodded reluctantly, wiping away your tears with the back of your hand.

"Okay", you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. "Take me to the hotel".

With a heavy heart, Ben led you back to the car, his mind consumed with thoughts of how he could make things right with you.

He knew that if he forced you to stay with him at that moment, he would only hurt you more. If there's one thing he's learned by now, it's to let you go your own way every now and then and not force yours on you. Even if every fiber of his body resisted. Even though he hated not having you around.

As Ben parked the car in front of the hotel, he turned to you, his eyes reflecting the turmoil in his heart. Without saying a word, he reached out, taking your hand in his.

"You won't leave me, will you?", he asked, his voice filled with vulnerability. The fear of losing you weighed heavily on him, and he couldn't bear the thought of being without you forever.

Feeling the weight of your silence, Ben watched helplessly as you stepped out of the car without another word. He clenched his fists, his mind racing with a whirlwind of emotions, but he knew better than to push you further. With a heavy heart, he remained in the car, allowing you the space you needed.

———————————

A/N: ._. down we go. Please let me know what you think.🥰

Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch@mimaria420@kaz11283@uncle-eggy@jackles010378@vxnilla-hxrddrugs @meowmeowyoongles@sarahgracej @zemosdarling228 @leila22rogers @mostlymarvelgirl@emily-winchester @blacknoirr @onlyangel-444@seasonofthenerd@staple-your-mouth@artemys-ackles@selfdestructionandrhum@mystic-mara @kat-nee

#jensen ackles #soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x y/n #the boys #billy butcher #smut

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