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billy-crudup · 2 years
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THE BOYS 2.08 | 3.08
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anakinism · 2 years
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THE BOYS | 3.06 - “Herogasm”
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mpregjamesdiamond · 5 months
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ex0rin · 5 months
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Hughie Campbell | The Boys S01E02: Cherry
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lila-lou · 3 months
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✨Stupid Movie Night✨
Summary: You and Ben had been through a lot lately. A movie night with friends was obviously not a good idea. Or was it?
Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader
Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, anxious Reader, Ben being a huge dick, hurting you - but also a soft little bean, kinda depressing guys
Word Count: 5365
A/N: I've been on this for what feels like forever and I hope you like it. 💙
English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨
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As you and Ben prepared for the movie night with Annie and Hughie, the atmosphere crackled with tension. You busied yourself with selecting an outfit, your excitement palpable as you anticipated spending time with friends. Meanwhile, Ben lounged indifferently on the couch, scrolling through his phone with disdain evident on his face.
"Why do we have to go to this stupid movie night anyway?", Ben grumbled, his annoyance and disdain dripping from every word.
You sighed, your patience wearing thin as you turned to face him. "Because, Ben, we agreed to spend time with our friends."
Ben scoffed. "I don't care about them. I just care about you, babe", he said, his tone dripping with possessiveness.
Your eyes narrowed, your frustration bubbling to the surface. "You know what, stay here and I'll go alone”.
Ben's expression darkened. "You're not going without me", he stated firmly, his tone brooking no argument.
You bristled at his assertion, your resolve hardening. "Watch me", you retorted, storming past him to grab your coat.
A tense silence settled between the two of you as you stood at an impasse, your relationship hanging in the balance. After a moment, Ben's pride gave way to a begrudging acknowledgment of your independence. With a resigned sigh, he followed you out the door, his ego bruised but his desire to keep you by his side outweighing his disdain for socializing with anyone but you.
As you made your way to Hughie and Annie's house, Ben's resentment simmered beneath the surface, his muttering curses punctuating the silence between the two of you.
You glanced over at him, your frustration evident in your furrowed brow. "Could you at least try to be civil?", you snapped, your tone tinged with exasperation.
Ben scoffed, his lips twisting into a sneer. "Why bother? None of these people matter except you, Y/N", he spat.
You shook your head in disbelief. "Ben. We're here to spend time with our friends, whether you like it or not".
Ben rolled his eyes, his disdain palpable. "Fine, but don't expect me to enjoy myself", he muttered darkly.
You sighed, your frustration mounting. "Just try to keep your attitude in check, okay? For my sake, if not for yours".
Ben grunted in response, his resentment simmering just beneath the surface as you arrived at your destination, tensions thickening the air between the two of you.
As you approached Hughie and Annie's house, Ben plastered on a fake smile.
"Welcome to the land of fun and excitement", he muttered under his breath, his tone laced with insincerity.
You shot him a pissed glare. "Benjamin! Behave yourself, damn it!”, you hissed through clenched teeth.
Ben shrugged, his facade slipping slightly as he grudgingly acquiesced. "Sure thing, darling", he replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
You bristled at the nickname. Your annoyance reached its breaking point. "Don't call me that", you snapped, your voice sharp with frustration.
Ben's smirk widened, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as he leaned in closer to you. "What's the matter, sweetheart? Can't handle a little affection?", he taunted.
Your jaw clenched, your temper flaring as you fought to keep your composure. "Stop it, Ben", you warned.
With a dismissive wave of his hand, Ben brushed off your warning, his arrogance unyielding. "Relax, babe", he quipped, his smirk never faltering. "I'm just trying to be friendly."
You let out a frustrated sigh, knowing that arguing with Ben would only escalate the situation further. With a resigned shake of your head, you turned away, steeling yourself for the evening ahead, determined not to let Ben's behavior ruin the evening.
Then the front door finally opened
"Hey, guys! So glad you could make it", Annie exclaimed, pulling you into a tight hug before turning to Ben.
Ben forced another insincere smile, his eyes flickering with annoyance as he exchanged pleasantries with Annie. "Yeah, wouldn't miss it for the world", he muttered under his breath, his sarcasm barely concealed.
You shot him another warning look, your gaze flashing with irritation as you subtly nudged him in the side. "Behave", you hissed through gritted teeth, your frustration palpable.
Ben rolled his eyes, but reluctantly toned down his sarcasm.
As you entered the house, Hughie greeted you warmly, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "Hey, guys! Good to see you both", he said, stepping forward to shake your hands.
Ben's expression remained stoic as he accepted Hughie's greeting, his disdain evident in the way he glanced around the room. When Hughie offered you drinks, Ben's nose wrinkled in disgust as he eyed the selection of beer.
"Seriously? This is the best you've got?", Ben muttered under his breath, his arrogance seeping into his tone as he looked at the array of beers with disdain.
You looked at him, silently urging him to keep his complaints to himself, but Ben ignored you. "I'll take a whiskey, if you have one", he said.
"Sure", Annie muttered, before heading to the kitchen.
As Annie returned with a glass of whiskey for Ben, the group settled in for the evening. Despite Bens abrasive personality, Hughie and Annie welcomed him with open arms, knowing that beneath his tough exterior, Ben was still an integral part of their circle of friends.
As the evening progressed, the group settled into a comfortable rhythm, catching up on each other's lives and sharing stories over drinks. While Hughie and Annie chatted animatedly with you, Ben remained mostly silent, nursing his whiskey as he watched a football game playing on the TV in the background.
Occasionally, he'd interject with a comment or two about the game, his attention focused solely on the screen in front of him. Despite his disinterest in the conversation swirling around him, Hughie and Annie tried to include him, tossing the occasional glance his way and asking his opinion on various topics.
Ben responded with characteristic indifference, offering brief, monosyllabic answers before returning his focus to the game. You shot him a concerned glance, silently urging him to engage more with your friends, but Ben brushed off your concern with a dismissive wave of his hand, his attention firmly fixed on the TV.
As Annie started the movie, Ben couldn't help but roll his eyes, irritated at being pulled away from the football game. He begrudgingly shifted his attention to the screen, his annoyance evident in the way he crossed his arms and leaned back on the couch.
Beside him, you snuggled closer, seeking comfort in his embrace as Annie did with Hughie. Ben's initial instinct was to push you away, his pride and image as America's strongest Supe overriding his desire for affection. He shot you a brief, irritated glance, silently warning you to keep your distance, but you seemed oblivious to his discomfort as you nestled against him, seeking warmth and reassurance.
Ben's frustration grew as he struggled to maintain his facade of invincibility, torn between his need for affection and his fear of appearing vulnerable. He loved you, of that there was no doubt, but he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that allowing himself to indulge in moments of intimacy would only weaken his carefully constructed image.
As you rested your head on his chest, you couldn't shake the feeling of discomfort radiating from Ben. His tense posture and the subtle stiffness in his embrace leaving you feeling confused and hurt. You glanced up at him, searching his eyes for some semblance of reassurance, but found only a distant look that sent a shiver of unease down your spine.
"Is everything okay, Ben?", you whispered, your voice barely above a murmur as you tried to quell the rising panic in your chest.
Ben hesitated, torn between his desire to maintain his tough exterior and his fear of hurting you. He opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat, his pride warring with his guilt.
Your heart sank as you watched him struggle, your mind racing with self-doubt and insecurity. Did you pushed him too far with bringing him here? Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over as you fought to keep her emotions in check.
Things really haven't been going well between you in the last few weeks, so your nerves have been frayed and your feelings are completely confused
"I'm sorry", you choked out, your voice trembling with emotion. "I didn't mean to... I just wanted to be close to you".
Ben's heart clenched at the sight of your tears: With a heavy sigh, he wrapped his arms around you more tightly, pulling you into a tight hug.
"No, Y/N, it's not you", he murmured, his voice soft with sincerity.
You buried your face against his chest, your tears mingling with the fabric of his shirt as you clung to him desperately, relieved to hear his words of reassurance.
As you buried your face in Ben's chest, Annie's super hearing caught the quiet exchange between you, her expression darkening with anger at Ben's apparent callousness. She shot him a piercing glare, her eyes narrowing with disapproval, but chose to remain silent, not wanting to escalate the situation further.
Ben met Annie's gaze with a sense of unease, realizing the weight of his actions and the hurt he had caused you.
Feeling the weight of Annie's silent judgment, Ben tightened his embrace around you. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering in a silent apology as he whispered words of love.
With a deep breath, Ben glanced over at Annie, his expression contrite as he silently acknowledged her disapproval.
Despite the tension in the room, you found solace in Ben's touch as he gently caressed your lower back, a silent gesture of affection and apology. You leaned into his touch, allowing yourself to relax into his embrace.
You knew that beneath his tough exterior lay a man who loved you deeply.
With each tender stroke of his hand against your back, you felt a surge of warmth and reassurance.
As the movie ended and the credits rolled, Hughie and Annie turned to you with smiles, eager to discuss the film.
"So, what do you think?", Hughie asked.
You glanced over at Ben, who was engrossed in his phone, before turning back to Hughie and Annie with a forced smile. "It was... interesting", you replied diplomatically, your tone tinged with uncertainty.
Annie raised an eyebrow, exchanging a knowing glance with Hughie. "Interesting?", she echoed, a playful smirk playing at her lips. "That's one way to put it".
You chuckled weakly, your discomfort evident as you tried to navigate the conversation without drawing attention to Ben's lack of engagement. "Well, you know how it is. Different strokes for different folks", you said with a nervous laugh.
Hughie and Annie nodded in understanding, sensing your discomfort and choosing to drop the subject for now. Instead, they launched into a discussion about their plans for the upcoming weekend, eager to shift the focus away from the awkwardness that hung in the air.
You breathed a silent sigh of relief, grateful for your friends' understanding as you joined in the conversation, your mind still lingering on Ben's distant demeanor. You knew that the two of you had a lot to talk about once you were alone, but for now, you were content to bask in the warmth of your friends' company, thankful for the distractions they provided.
As the conversation continued and you were just about to get some snacks from the kitchen with Annie, you felt a sudden tug on your arm, causing you to wince in pain. You turned to see Ben gripping your arm with more force than necessary, his expression clouded with frustration.
"Where do you think you're going?", he muttered, his voice low and harsh as he tightened his grip on your arm.
Your eyes widened in surprise at the sudden change in Ben's demeanor, your heart racing with a mixture of fear and confusion. "I was just going to get some snacks from the kitchen", you replied hesitantly, trying to keep your voice steady despite the fear bubbling in your chest.
Ben's grip on your arm loosened slightly, but his expression remained cold and distant. "Well, hurry up then", he snapped, releasing your arm with a rough shove.
You recoiled at the rough treatment, your arm throbbing with pain as you scrambled to your feet, eager to escape the uncomfortable situation. You shot Ben a wary glance, but his attention was already back on his phone, his indifference like a barrier between you.
Feeling shaken and unsettled, you quickly made your way to the kitchen, your mind racing with questions and doubts. You knew that something was off with Ben tonight, but you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in your stomach as you tried to make sense of his sudden change in behavior.
In the safety of the kitchen, Annie’s concerned expression softened as she approached you, her voice barely above a whisper as she spoke. “Hey, are you okay?”, she asked, her tone laced with genuine concern. You forced a tight smile, your nerves still on edge. “Yeah, I’m fine”, you replied, your voice strained as you tried to downplay the situation. Annie’s eyes narrowed slightly, sensing that something was amiss. “You don’t seem fine”, she remarked quietly, her gaze searching your face for any sign of distress. You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal to your friend. “It’s just… Ben’s been acting strange tonight”, you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper as you glanced back towards the living room, where Ben sat lost in his own world. Annie’s expression darkened with understanding as she placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry, Y/N. You don’t deserve to be treated like that”, she said softly, her voice filled with sympathy.
“I just… he’s usually not like this, well, at least not to me”, you sighed. “I thought things were going well between us again, but tonight… he’s always got some bad days, but today, it’s worse”.
Annie listened attentively. She reached out, pulling you into a gentle hug, offering comfort and solace in the face of uncertainty.
"I'm sorry you're going through this", Annie murmured, her voice soft and soothing. "But you're not responsible for Ben's actions, especially if he's dealing with his own demons".
You leaned into the embrace, finding solace in Annie's warmth and understanding. "I just wish he would open up to me more", you whispered, your voice tinged with sadness. "I want to help him, but he pushes me away whenever I try".
As Ben continued to scroll through his phone in the living room, his attention drifted momentarily from the screen as he caught snippets of conversation drifting in from the kitchen. Despite his best efforts to tune them out, his super hearing picked up on Annie and your hushed discussion.
His heart clenched with a mixture of guilt and frustration as he heard your voice tremble with emotion. A pang of regret washed over him as he realized the impact his behavior had on you, the weight of his actions heavy on his conscience.
Part of him wanted to storm into the kitchen, to confront you and demand forgiveness, but another part held him back, his pride and fear of vulnerability holding him captive. He felt a surge of shame wash over him as he listened to Annie's comforting words, knowing that he didn't deserve your love and understanding.
As the conversation faded into the background, Ben was left alone with his thoughts, grappling with the harsh reality of his own shortcomings. He knew that he had a lot of work to do if he wanted to salvage his relationship with you, but deep down, he feared that he may have already pushed you too far away.
As the conversation in the kitchen drew to a close, you and Annie returned to the living room, your expressions softened by the private exchange. You approached Ben, a small smile tugging at your lips as you handed him his favorite beer, the one you had brought with from home.
Ben glanced up from his phone, surprise flickering in his eyes as he took the beer from you, his fingers brushing against yours in a fleeting moment of connection. He caught the subtle warmth in your smile, a silent acknowledgment of your shared history and the unspoken understanding between the two of you.
For a moment, the weight of your earlier conversation hung heavy in the air, but Ben found himself at a loss for words. He wanted to apologize, to express his remorse for his earlier behavior, but the words caught in his throat, his pride holding him back.
Instead, he met your gaze with a tentative smile of his own, silently thanking you for the gesture.
You didn't say a word as you returned to your seat beside him, but the warmth of your smile and the gentle touch of your hand on his arm spoke volumes.
As the evening drew to a close, the group made their way towards the door. Ben and you stepped outside into the cool night air, the tension from earlier still lingering between you. You glanced up at Ben, your expression softening with a mixture of affection and concern. "Are you okay?", you asked gently, reaching out to touch his arm.
Ben's reserved demeanor didn't go unnoticed by you. You withdrew your hand, wrapping your arms around yourself as a chill swept through the night air.
"Ben, please", you pleaded softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I hate when we're like this".
"Just… let's go home", he muttered, his tone curt and dismissive.
Your heart sank at his response, hurt flickering in your eyes as you recoiled from his coldness. You bit your lip, fighting back the sting of tears as you struggled to make sense of his abrupt dismissal.
"Fine", you said quietly, your voice tinged with resignation. "Let's go".
As you walked home in silence, the tension between you hung heavy in the air, the weight of Ben's words lingering like a bitter aftertaste.
At Home you quickly made your way to the bathroom, getting rid of your clothes and bracing yourself on the sink. Tears already streaming down your face. It was too much for you. Everything.
That’s when you felt your boyfriend behind you.
As Ben caught sight of your tear-streaked reflection in the mirror, his heart clenched with a pang of guilt and regret. He stepped closer to you, his own reflection looming large behind yours, his movements hesitant yet determined.
Without a word, Ben wrapped his arms around your naked body, pulling you close to him as he held you tightly against his chest. He watched your reflection in the mirror.
Your sobs echoed in the small space, your brokenness palpable as you leaned into Ben's embrace. "Do you... do you really love me?", you whispered, your voice fragile with uncertainty.
Ben's heart stuttered at your words, his own turmoil bubbling to the surface. He struggled to find the right words, his pride and emotional distance warring with his desire to comfort you.
"Of course I do", he replied finally, his voice strained but sincere. "But you know how I am, Y/N. I'm not good with... with all this emotional stuff".
Your shoulders shook with silent sobs as you buried your face against Ben's chest, your heart breaking with the weight of his words. You knew that he struggled to express his emotions, but the pain of his indifference cut deeper than you cared to admit.
Ben held you tighter, his own emotions roiling beneath the surface as he grappled with the realization of how deeply he had hurt you. Again. He wanted to reassure you, to promise you that he would do better, but the words caught in his throat, his pride and stubbornness holding him back.
In the end, all he could do was hold you close, hoping that his actions spoke louder than his words
As you trembled in his arms, Ben’s heart twisted at the sight of your pain. He cursed himself for causing you such distress, his stomach churning with guilt. With a heavy sigh, he tightened his embrace.
“Let me show you just how much I love you”, he mumbled.  
“Ben”, you whispered brokenly, your voice barely above a whisper as you looked up at him, your eyes shimmering with tears.
Without another word, Ben lifted you effortlessly into his arms, your weight feeling insignificant against his strength. He cradled you close to his chest, your head resting against his shoulder as he carried you out of the bathroom and into your bedroom. He lays your naked form on the bed, hovering over you.  
As Ben tenderly kissed away your tears, he felt your body relax beneath him, your sobs gradually giving way to soft giggles. He smiled against your skin, the sound of your laughter like music to his ears.
"Sorry about the beard", he murmured, his voice gentle as he continued to pepper your face with featherlight kisses. "I promise I'll shave tomorrow".
You shook your head, your laughter mingling with your tears as you reached up to caress his cheek. "I don't mind", you whispered, your voice filled with love and affection. "I love your beard".
With a soft chuckle, Ben leaned down to capture your lips in a slow, tender kiss, savoring the taste of you against his own. He felt you respond eagerly, your body arching against his
As Ben continued to caress your skin with tenderness and care, he couldn’t shake the feeling of unworthiness that gnawed at him. He knew deep down that he didn’t deserve your love, not after the way he had treated you earlier. But in this moment, with you wrapped in his arms, your laughter and affection washing over him like a balm for his wounded soul, he couldn’t help but feel a glimmer of hope. He wanted to make things right, to show you just how much you meant to him, even if it meant stepping out of his comfort zone.
As you carefully pulled off Ben's shirt, he couldn't help but his instincts screamed at him to assert dominance, to remind you of his strength and power. But as he looked into your eyes, filled with nothing but love and tenderness, he knew he had to suppress those urges.
"Easy there", he muttered.
Your hands paused for a moment, a flicker of hurt crossing your features before you continued, your movements careful and deliberate. You didn't say anything in response, but Ben could see the disappointment in your eyes, a silent rebuke for his callousness. Again.
Ignoring the pang of guilt that twisted in his gut, Ben forced himself to focus on the moment. He reached out to caress your cheek, his touch gentler than he had ever allowed himself to be.
"You know I don't do this often", he muttered, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable. "But for you, I'll make an exception".
Your lips quirked into a small smile at his words, your love for him shining through despite his flaws. "I know, Ben", you whispered, your fingers trailing lightly over his skin. "And I appreciate it".
With a nod, Ben leaned in to capture your lips in a tender kiss, his heart swelling with a mixture of love and gratitude.
Ben reached down to unbutton his jeans, his movements slow and deliberate.
As he trailed soft kisses down your body, his lips lingered over every curve and contour, savoring the taste of your skin against his lips. He worshipped you with each touch, his movements slow and deliberate as he explored every inch of you with care and tenderness.
When he reached the apex of your thighs, he paused, his breath catching in his throat as he gazed up at you with a mixture of desire and reverence. He could feel you trembling beneath him, your anticipation palpable.
With a gentle touch, Ben parted your legs, his fingers tracing delicate patterns along your inner thighs as he teased you with featherlight kisses. He felt you gasp in response, your hands clutching at the sheets beneath you as you arched your back in pleasure.
As he lowered his head between your legs, Ben closed his eyes, losing himself in the taste and scent of your arousal. He moved with agonizing slowness, his tongue tracing languid circles around your most intimate areas, eliciting soft moans of pleasure from your lips.
With each flick of his tongue, Ben felt himself grow more and more aroused, his own need building to a fever pitch. But he forced himself to hold back, to maintain the slow and steady pace that he knew you loved.
And as he continued to worship you with his mouth, he felt your body respond to his touch, your pleasure building to a crescendo that threatened to consume both of you.
As you reached the peak of your pleasure, your body tensed and trembled beneath Ben's touch. With a soft cry of ecstasy, you came undone, your release washing over you in waves of pure bliss.
Ben held himself back, resisting the urge to give in to his own desires as he continued to pleasure you with his tongue. He felt you shudder and moan as you rode out the aftershocks of your orgasm, your body trembling with the intensity of your pleasure.
When you finally began to relax, Ben withdrew from you, his lips lingering over your skin as he pressed soft kisses along your body. Your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him close.
With a mischievous smirk, Ben looked down at you, his eyes sparkling with desire as he whispered, "Want to get fucked nice and slow, just how you like it?".
Your cheeks flushed a deep shade of red at his bold question, your breath catching in your throat as you met his intense gaze. You could feel the undeniable heat of his arousal pressing against you, his erection throbbing against your wet folds.
Your heart raced with anticipation as you nodded, your voice barely above a whisper as you replied, "Yes, Ben. Please".
With a satisfied grin, Ben leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his hands roaming over your body with a newfound urgency. He positioned himself between your legs, his gaze locking with yours.
As Ben guided himself inside you, he exerted a tremendous amount of restraint, controlling his movements with a deliberate slowness that bordered on agonizing. Every inch of his body burned with desire, but he clenched his fists around the bed frame above your head, channeling all his strength into maintaining the gentle pace you craved.
With each measured thrust, Ben savored the exquisite sensation of being enveloped by your warmth. He buried himself deep inside you, relishing the intimate connection you shared, his gaze locked with yours as he slowly started to move.
Despite the overwhelming urge to surrender to his own desires, Ben remained steadfast in his commitment to pleasuring you.
As the two of you moved together in the darkness of your bedroom, Ben pressed gentle kisses along your neck, his lips trailing caresses along your skin. He whispered softly against your ear, his voice filled with a mixture of desire and tenderness.
"Is this nice, baby?", he murmured, his breath warm against her skin. "Do you like it when I take things slow for you?".
Your response was a soft moan of pleasure, your body arching against his as you surrendered yourself to the sensation of his lips on your skin. You buried your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer.
He shifted his weight slightly, adjusting his angle to deepen his thrusts.
As Ben continued to move inside you, he felt a primal urge building within him, driving him to take you harder, faster. But he resisted, determined to maintain the slow and steady pace that you wanted.
"You feel so tight, Y/N", he groaned, his voice filled with longing as he continued to thrust into you with measured precision. "I want to make you feel every inch of me".
With each thrust, Ben focused on savoring the sensation of your warmth enveloping him, his movements deliberate and controlled. He alternated between shallow and deep thrusts, teasing you with the promise of pleasure as he explored every inch of you with care.
Your body responded eagerly to his touch, your moans growing louder with each passing moment as you surrendered herself completely to the pleasure coursing through you.
You arched your back in ecstasy, your fingers digging into his skin as you urged him on with desperate cries of longing.
As Ben continued to move inside you, he felt a surge of desire building within him. With a gentle touch, he traced his fingers lightly your clit, teasing you with light caresses that sent shivers of pleasure coursing through your body.
Your response was immediate and intense. You cried out in ecstasy as your body convulsed with pleasure, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Ben could feel your walls clenching around him, your release gripping him with an intensity he had never felt before.
He held you close as you rode out the waves of pleasure, his own desire building to a fever pitch as he watched you.
As your body convulsed with pleasure, Ben couldn’t hold back any longer. The intensity of your orgasm coupled with the sight of you surrendering to ecstasy was too much for him to bear. With a guttural groan, he gave in to the overwhelming sensation, spilling himself deep inside you.
As the waves of pleasure subsided and the two of you lay tangled together in the aftermath, Ben let out a contented sigh, feeling more relaxed and fulfilled than he had in a long time. He held you close, your bodies still pressed together in an intimate embrace, your breaths coming slow and steady.
Your expression was one of pure bliss as you gazed up at him, your eyes shining with love and gratitude. You reached out to caress his cheek, your touch gentle and affectionate as you praised him for his efforts.
"Ben, that was amazing", you murmured, your voice soft with emotion. "I know how much you prefer it rough, but thank you for taking it slow for me. It was exactly what I needed".
Ben's heart swelled with pride at your words, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he leaned in to kiss your forehead. He knew that he had pushed himself out of his comfort zone for you, and seeing the satisfaction on your face made it all worth it.
"I'd do anything for you, Y/N", he whispered, his voice filled with love and devotion. "You mean everything to me".
As you lay intertwined in the aftermath of your lovemaking, Ben reflected on his last words, he couldn't help but cringe at his own awkwardness. With a sheepish smile, he reached out to pull you even closer to him, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace.
"Forget what I just fucking said", he murmured, his voice tinged with embarrassment. "It was fucking cheesy”.
You chuckled softly, your fingers tracing soothing patterns on his chest as you looked up at him with a tender smile. "I wouldn't dream of forgetting. I love you, Ben".
As you drifted off to sleep in Ben's arms, he gently traced his fingers over your lower back and thighs with tender affection. His touch was light and soothing.
With each gentle caress, Ben felt a sense of peace wash over him, the weight of the world melting away as he focused solely on the woman he held in his arms. He marveled at the beauty and grace of your sleeping form, his heart swelling with love for you.
As the soft rhythm of your breathing filled the room, Ben pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering against you as he whispered words of love and adoration into the darkness. In that moment, surrounded by the warmth and intimacy of the dark, he knew that he was the luckiest man alive to have you by his side.
———————————
A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰
311 notes · View notes
geminiwritten · 1 year
Text
undercover ; billy butcher
fandom: the boys
pairing: billy x reader
summary: you have to go undercover as butcher’s wife to vought’s annual supe celebration - prompt (that i don’t remember where i saw it, i’m sorry!): “I bet you one hundred dollars that you’re hard right now.” *he stands up and drops $100 on the table*
notes: i wrote this in one day and you can tell!!! it’s so rushed, i’m so sorry, but also i’m just hot for this man and refuse to stop??? let me know what you think!
warnings: swearing, very small alcohol consumption, very light smut, and a bit of harassment from an unwelcome dude
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word count: 6496
“You have a thing for Butcher?” Hughie gasps, the apartment door swinging open as he steps inside.
Annie’s eyes grow wide, her hand covering her mouth to try and hide her cheeky smile. You scowl at her before turning to Hughie, his face a comical mixture of disgust and amusement.
“What have I said about eavesdropping on movie night, Hubert?” you demand, calling him by the stupid nickname you know he hates.
He rolls his eyes, “I wasn’t eavesdropping, I texted Annie to say I was on my way home. It’s not my fault you’re practically shouting about the fact that you want to fu-”
“Hughie,” Annie giggles, “be careful.”
“Hey,” he says, turning to her, “I’m just repeating what I heard.”
You hold your face in your hands and groan, sinking back into the soft couch cushions and praying that they might open up and swallow you into a different dimension.
“I’m sorry,” Annie sighs, “I honestly just lost track of time.”
Hughie drops his keys and wallet on the kitchen bench alongside two plastic bags that wreak of cheap Chinese food. Your stomach grumbles at the smell, and you reluctantly pull yourself off the couch before dragging your feet toward the kitchen.
“So,” Hughie says with a grin, “how long has this been going on then?”
“Nothing is going on,” you state, “and it’s certainly none of your business.”
“Oh, come on, it’s not like I’m going to tell anyone,” he begins helping you unpack the bags of food, “besides, I had a sneaking suspicion. You do kind of look at him like-”
You pull a butterknife out of the draw and point it at him, “Like what?”
He freezes, his hands flying up on either side of his head in surrender.
Annie laughs again, “Okay, you two, cut it out.”
You put the knife down and retrieve three full sets of cutlery before setting a stack of bowls beside the containers of food. Hughie serves himself first before Annie fills her own bowl and you last, already shovelling mouthfuls of noodles into your mouth as you move back toward the couch.
“You know,” Hughie says between mouthfuls, “if you wanted to talk about it, I might be able to help.”
You scoff, “Yeah? How?”
He shrugs, “I don’t know, talk to him.”
“And say what?” you drop your fork into your bowl, mocking Hughie’s voice as you say, “Hey Butcher, do you think Y/N is hot, because I know she dreams about fucking you.”
He scowls at you, “I can be subtle.”
Annie giggles, hiding her face behind her bowl as Hughie casts his glare toward her.
“I appreciate your concern, Hughie,” you say, “but I think I’ll just stick to fantasising about him in the shower.”
His expression morphs into disgust as he begins choking on his mouthful of food, his face turning bright red. Annie’s laughter fills the room, and you join her while Hughie struggles to compose himself.
To your surprise, and relief, Hughie agrees to keep your little secret to himself. He doesn’t even make a stupid face the next day when the three of you arrive at the boys’ current hideout, finding MM, Frenchie, Kimiko, and the man himself huddled around the dining room table.
“Righ’ on time,” Butcher says with a grin, “let’s get to it, then.”
You knew he was excited about this next mission, if you could call it that. Everyone was, in fact, because thanks to Annie’s excellent intel, you were all attending Vought’s annual ball. A night of celebration to thank the mighty Supes for keeping the streets safe, or as Butcher liked to call it, Vought’s annual wank-fest.
“Your invitations are all sorted,” Annie says, pulling a small handful of envelopes out of her bag. “Hughie came up with all your aliases, so please stick to them, or you’ll be kicked out in a heartbeat. Security is tough at this thing, and there’ll be no talking yourselves out of a bad situation.”
She looks pointedly at Butcher, but his smirk only widens.
“Frenchie,” Hughie says, “you’re going as a member of the tech team, so you’ll be behind the scenes and keeping an eye on the cameras for anything suspicious.”
Frenchie rubs his hands together excitedly, taking the envelope from Annie and tearing it open.
“Monsieur Felipe Lavigne, senior security technician,” he announces, reading the ID card aloud.
“MM and Kimiko, you’ll be with me,” Hughie goes on, “we’ll be posing as press on behalf of the city council. There’s a huge group of council members and associates, so all we have to do is blend in.”
MM takes two envelopes and passes one to Kimiko.
Hughie turns to you, “I originally had you listed as press too, but then decided it might be smart to double down on Butcher’s alias, give him another level of cover, you know?”
You frown, tilting your head sceptically as he hands you and Butcher an envelope each.
“You’ll be attending as prospective stakeholders, invited by corporate to bask in the glory of Vought in the hopes that you’ll invest in their cause,” Hughie explains. “An affluent couple from upstate New York, recently immigrated from Britain after growing bored of your rich English lifestyle.”
You’re almost positive your brows have reached your hairline as you stare at the envelope in your hands, your trembling fingers struggling to pull the ID badge out.
“Brooklyn Williams,” you read aloud.
Annie shoots Hughie a look, promising that he would be paying for this later, and you realise that he must have made this decision in the past twelve hours without consulting her.
“William Williams,” Butcher says, frowning at Hughie, “really?”
Despite being the target of several unhappy stares, Hughie chuckles.
Frenchie snickers too, “At least you will not forget it, eh?”
“Smart move, Hughie,” MM speaks up, “Butcher is the one most likely to be caught, but with Y/N in tow, he might think twice about putting himself in danger.”
Butcher rolls his eyes, “Do none of you ‘ave any faith in me?”
Hughie, Frenchie, and MM respond in unison, “No.”
The seven of you spend the next two hours going over the details of your aliases and the agenda of the function. It’s going to be a huge event, which meant little risk of actually running into Homelander or anyone who might recognise any of you. Annie won’t be able to help on the night, being one of the spotlight attendees, but that isn’t what’s was making you nervous. You’re going to have to spend a good five hours pretending to be married to Butcher, the one man you desperately want and the one man you were trying very hard not to fall in love with.
After what feels like forever, Frenchie announces that he is going to get dinner and Annie bids you all goodbye to check in at Vought tower. Hughie sets his laptop up at the desk in the corner of the lounge room while MM excuses himself for his nightly facetime call with Janine.
Kimiko turns to you, signing a question about what you were all going to wear on the night.
“Annie helped me organise some things,” you reply, gesturing toward the suitcase by the door. “You should try it on now, and if you don’t like it we can find something else.”
You know Kimiko isn’t a fan of cocktail attire, and you definitely didn’t want her walking into the dragon’s den worrying about the way she looked or if she’d be able to fight should the need arise.
“What ‘bout me, love?” Butcher asks, his signature smirk curling the corner of his lips.
Your cheeks burn under his gaze, “You don’t get a choice, you’ll be wearing a suit.”
He chuckles, “I do love a stubborn woman, must’ve been why I married you.”
Your pulse thrums in your ears, and you fail to think of a sarcastic retort, instead turning away in the hopes that he hasn’t already noticed the bright colour in your cheeks.
Kimiko drops the case on its back with a thud, unzipping it quickly and throwing it open to pull out each of the bagged costumes. There are four suits of various styles with varying accessories, and two dresses. She stands holding the one labelled with her name, dragging the zip right down the middle and revealing the soft black fabric of her dress. It isn’t quite full length, hemmed just below the knee in a pencil skirt style and devoid of any embellishments. A simple black dress with long sleeves, fitted but flexible.
She grins, signing to you that it is perfect and thanking you for not putting her in anything ridiculous.
“We chose two pairs of shoes too,” you say, “in case you don’t want to wear the heels.”
Butcher strides toward the suitcase and picks up the last bag, but you follow him, quickly snatching it out of his hands before he can pull the zip.
“My dress can wait until the night,” you hold it behind your back for good measure, “I’m still not sure about it.”
He quirks one brow, “You’re not wearin’ latex, are ya?”
You roll your eyes before turning on your heel, taking your dress into your room and tucking it into the back of your closet. You fall back on your bed, your chest rising and falling with deep breaths as you try to calm your erratic pulse. It’s just one night, you can hold it together for one night, right?
The next two days pass in a blur of preparations and planning, and before you know it, you’re staring at the dress hanging in your closet with a towel wrapped around your body. Your hair is clean and curled, pulled into a half up do with twisted gold pins creating the illusion of diadem just below the crown of your head. You took a little longer to do your makeup than usual, out of practice in the art of winged eyeliner and false lashes, but in the end, you were proud. Now, the dress.
Your fingers are numb as you pull the zipper down, revealing the red silk material of the gown that Annie convinced you would be a good idea. You blame her for this just as much as Hughie.
“Come on, Y/N,” MM calls through your bedroom door, “we have to go.”
You sigh and throw your towel aside, hurriedly pulling the dress off its hanger. The material is cool against your skin, sliding easily over your curves and fitting your body like a tailor-made glove. You twist awkwardly to secure the zip before turning to the mirror.
The dress is floor length, a few inches of the red silk pooling at your feet, with a long slit reaching scandalously up to your left hip. The straps are about an inch thick, and the neck cowled, showcasing your breasts and the perfect amount cleavage. The silk hugs your torso, and you’re a little startled at just how good you feel in this dress.
Another knock at the door has you rushing to slip into your beige heels, and you check that your underwear are pulled high enough to not be seen in the slit of the dress before opening the door. MM’s jaw drops.
“Holy shit, Y/N.”
You blush, “Thanks.”
Being the gentleman he is, he tears his eyes away from you, offering you his arm with a cheeky grin plastered across his face.
In the lounge room, Kimiko is helping Frenchie with his tie and Hughie is struggling to secure his suspenders to his trousers. Your breath catches when your eyes land on Butcher, dressed in a classic and perfectly fitted black tux. He has even trimmed his beard and styled his hair, still a little dishevelled but holy shit, does the sight of him make your mouth water.
“Damn,” Hughie says when he sees you, “nice dress.”
“Nice suspenders.”
He chuckles, “Are we ready?”
Butcher turns to you, his jaw going slack and his eyes dark. Your chest squeezes, your lungs struggling to draw enough breath as your head spins from the lack of oxygen.
“Ready,” MM says beside you.
“Good,” Hughie tucks his ID badge into his shirt pocket, “I’ve organised two cars, one for Y/N and Butcher, and the other for the rest of us. Once we’re there, we can’t slip up, keep your masks up and don’t even look at anyone you think might recognise you.”
You check your small black clutch for your ID badge and phone.
“Earpieces are too risky tonight,” he continues, “so keep your phones on you, and if one of us is out, we all abort.”
Kimiko checks her own purse and the boys check their pockets before you all shuffle out the door. Hughie, MM, Frenchie, and Kimiko exit the building first, leaving you and Butcher alone in the lobby.
“You ready, sweethear’?” he asks, gazing at you with the same dark eyes as before.
You nod, “As I’ll ever be.”
After a minute, you exit the apartment and climb into the awaiting car. Butcher greets the driver as the car pulls away from the curb, and you take the chance to pull your phone out, typing out a quick message to Hughie.
‘I’m going to kill you.’
Your phone pings before you can put it away, and you quickly turn it to silent before reading his reply.
‘You’re welcome ;)’
A warm hand on your bare legs startles you, the heat sinking into your blood and making it sizzle through your veins.
“You sure you’re alrigh’?” Butcher asks.
“Yeah,” you mutter, “just nervous.”
His thumb rubs soft circles on your thigh, sending shockwaves of desire right to your core.
“Nothin’ to be worried ‘bout, love, I’ve got you.”
Your eyes almost roll back in your head at the sound of his deep voice. He truly does not know how much he does have you, all of you.
“Thanks, Billy,” you whisper, your voice unsteady.
His eyes don’t leave you for the duration of car ride, and your pulse refuses to settle. Anxiety and desire tangle in your stomach, twisting it into loops and winding the knot in your core even tighter than it already was.
Eventually, the car stops, and you both thank the driver before climbing out. You’re not at the main entrance of the building, but there is still a ridiculous number of security guards standing around, and barriers preventing anyone without an invitation from getting within twenty feet of the door. Butcher wraps an arm around your waist to guide you forward, his warmth shielding you from the cold night air.
“By the way,” he whispers, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, “you look fuckin’ delectable in that dress.”
Another wave of heat washes through your veins, and it takes every ounce of focus for you to not stumble up the walkway. Two security guards step forward as you both flash your ID badges.
“Mr. and Mrs. Williams,” the guard in front of Butcher says, scanning the barcodes on the badges, “welcome to Vought tower.”
The security guard in front of you is younger than the other, his blonde hair slicked back and his mouth etched into a sleazy smirk as his eyes rake up and down your body. He winks as he steps aside, and Butcher notices, his expression twisting into a scowl.
Just as you reach the doors, Butcher’s hand slips from your waist to your ass, squeezing it as he dips down and plants a hot kiss against your neck.
“Fuckin’ perve,” he mutters, before guiding you through the doors and down the corridor.
Your mouth is dry and your knees wobbly, but you move with practice and manage to appear cool and collected as you step into the huge event room. It’s extravagantly decorated with drapes of sheer fabric hanging from the high ceilings and a huge crystal chandelier in the centre. There are dozens of round tables, all set with fine silver-wear and obnoxious centrepieces made of red and white roses.
“Nice to know where all our money will be going if we decide to invest, darlin’,” Butcher says with a cheeky grin.
You giggle, letting him guide you through the clusters of elegantly dressed attendees toward where you assumed your table would be. You don’t remember ever finding out that piece of information, but you assume either Hughie or Annie told Butcher while you were still reeling about having to play ‘happy couple’ with him.
You listen carefully to snippets of conversations as you pass, waiting for anything interesting to catch your attention. Butcher stops at an empty table and pulls out a chair, you smile in thanks before taking a seat, quickly shuffling forward to avoid flashing everyone due to the ridiculously high split in your dress. Butcher notices though, chuckling to himself as he takes the chair beside you.
Before you can speak, he places a hand on your bare leg and squeezes, knocking every thought right out of your head.
You gasp, “I-It’s hot in here, is it hot in here?”
“I think that’s jus’ you, sweethear’,” he replies with a wink.
The room quickly fills with guests, conversations growing louder and drowning out the soft music playing over the speakers. Eventually, a woman takes the stage and the room falls quiet, listening to her lengthy introduction about how grateful Vought were for this night and how wonderful it is to be able to celebrate America’s finest superheroes. You can barely hear her though, your ears filled with the thrum of your pulse as Butcher’s fingers draw patterns on your leg. Your core aches, and you shift in your seat only to feel the dampness between your legs.
When the room erupts into applause, Butcher’s hand freezes, and you turn to see Homelander striding onto the stage, his hair blinding beneath the bright spotlight.
“Hey,” you whisper, placing a hand on top of Butcher’s, “you okay?”
He turns to you and his scowl relaxes, a soft smile pulling on his lips. “Yeah,” he replies, “I’m good.”
You slip your other hand beneath his, praying that he doesn’t notice how sweaty your palms are as you play with his fingers beneath the table. Although you had started in the hopes of calming him, you find your own sense of relaxation in his touch, focusing on the feeling of his skin as Homelander drawls on about Vought and The Seven.
After what feels like an eternity, he finishes his speech and the room cheers again. The woman returns to the microphone to announce the first course of food before music and conversation fills the air, and you turn your attention toward the centre of the table. Butcher grips your hand as you attempt to move it, entwining his fingers with yours and only allowing one of your hands free.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you two at one of these events before,” the woman beside you says.
She’s older but extremely elegant, with a pendant around her neck that you don’t doubt costs more money than you’ll ever get to see in your bank account.
“We’re new in town,” you reply, your voice very slightly lilted, “just moved from London’s east end, actually.”
“How charming,” she places a hand against her pendant, “I’m Lucille, and this is my husband, Jack.”
The podgy man beside her nods, his cheeks and nose bright red as he guzzles from his glass of champagne.
“Pleasure to meet you,” you say, “I’m Brooklyn, and this is my husband, William.”
You cast a glance at Butcher, only to find his eyes already locked on you, sparkling under the soft yellow lights. He has dopey smile on his lips and an emotion you can’t discern floating behind his gaze. Your stomach flips.
“You do make a charming, if you don’t mind my saying,” Lucille says.
You nod, your cheeks tingling with warmth, “Thank you.”
“So,” her husband, Jack, speaks up, his voice gruff, “what brings you here?”
You wait a beat for Butcher to reply, but he only watches you with that same expression.
“To be totally honest with you, I’m not sure,” you reply with a half-hearted laugh, “we have been thinking about investing, but I do wonder why a company of this immensity even needs investors.”
Jack chuckles, “You’ve got that right, seems greedy, doesn’t it?”
Lucille frowns at her husband before turning back to you, “We don’t do it for them, we do it for our grandkids, for their future. In the hopes that they will have a future, a safe one. This world is a nasty place.”
“You’re not wrong about that,” you sigh.
She nods, “That’s why it’s important to protect what you love, and hold on to it.”
Butcher’s hand squeezes yours, making your heart thump violently within your chest. You turn to him and meet his eyes, the fire in your veins blazing with a new intensity and heating every inch of your skin.
“I-If you’ll excuse me,” you stammer, pushing your chair back, “I need to use the bathroom.”
Butcher nods as you stand, and you can hear Lucille strike up new conversation while you weave between the tables toward the exit. Fresh air fills your lungs the moment you reach the foyer, and you pull your phone out of your bag, finding Hughie’s contact name with trembling fingers.
‘If I survive tonight, I WILL kill you.’
You hit send and turn toward the bathroom, almost stumbling when you see the same blonde security guard who had been stationed at the doors.
“Can I help you, ma’am?” he asks, his slimy smirk loading the question with innuendo.
“I’m okay,” you reply, “thank you.”
He steps forward before you can move, “You sure? You look a little flustered. Perhaps a step outside might help? It does get awfully hot in here.”
The first spark of fear rattles up your spine.
“I appreciate that, but I just need to use the restroom,” you say.
His smirk doesn’t falter, “Well, if you change your mind, let me know. I’d be more than happy to escort you. Can’t have a stunning woman such as yourself wandering the streets alone.”
You force a polite smile onto your face as you step around him and hurry down the corridor toward the bathrooms. With one subtle glance over your shoulder, you see him watching, still standing at the end of the hall looking almost predatory.
“Shit,” you whisper to yourself, turning sharply into the first stall.
You close the toilet lid and sit on top if it, holding your head in your hands and counting your breaths. After a minute of trying to wrangle your wild thoughts, you decide that Butcher is either a fantastic actor or… in love with you. Your heart aches to agree with the latter, but your brain fights for reason, reminding you that you’re in an incredibly sensitive situation and he is only acting like this to keep up the façade.
You sigh and stand up, panic piercing your chest when you remember the pushy security guard waiting for you in the foyer. You find your phone again, tapping on Butcher’s name and quickly typing out a message.
‘Don’t freak out, I’m totally fine, but I need you to come get me. Foyer.’
You count to thirty before exiting the stall and washing your hands, pleasantly surprised by your reflection in the mirror, aside from the deep red splashed across your cheeks. You walk calmly out of the bathroom and down the corridor, ignoring the spike in your pulse when you see the back of the security guard still standing there.
He turns around at the sound of your footsteps, a smirk curling his lips. “Hey gorgeous, are you-”
“There you are,” Butcher calls, striding toward you.
He wraps an arm around your waist, his hand splayed across your lower back as he presses your body against his. You don’t have time to respond before his lips capture yours. Your knees almost buckle, your hands gripping his shoulders for support as his mouth moves against yours and your mind goes completely blank.
He pulls back ever so slightly, his forehead still touching yours as he whispers, “I missed you.”
The feeling that bubbles in your chest makes your heart want to explode.
“Better get back in there,” he says, carefully releasing you.
You nod, unable to summon a single word as he looks at you like that, his pupils blown and his lips swollen from the kiss. He takes one of your hands in his and pulls you toward the doors before casting a menacing scowl over his shoulder at the security guard.
“Did he touch you?” he asks, his voice low.
You shake your head, “No.”
“Good.”
“Wait,” you tug on his hand before he can walk through the doors.
He frowns as you pull him to the side, into an alcove beneath the grand stairs that lead up to the private rooms above the event hall. He doesn’t resist when you press him against the wall, your hands on his chest and your body covering his. You look up at him through your thick lashes, and you can feel a soft groan rumble through his chest.
“I’m not sure we were convincing enough,” you whisper, before surging up and pressing your lips against his.
His hands hold the back of your head as he tilts his own to deepen the kiss, his tongue pushing past your lips and making you whimper. Your ears fill with the erratic thrum of your heart and the soft moans from the man in front of you, making you forget about everything that isn’t him. The fire rushing through your veins collects at your core, burning with need and making you clench as his hands wander down your back to cup your ass.
Time loses all meaning as you tangle your limbs with his, your body throbbing almost painfully. You have to stop yourself from clawing at his clothes, every desire within you craving to tear his suit apart and absolutely devour him.
Eventually, your lungs begin to burn, and the short gasps between kisses aren’t enough to appease them, so you pull away. His pupils are huge, consuming almost all of the colour in his eyes as he studies your face with a small smile.
“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he murmurs.
You open your mouth to tell him the same when someone clears their throat, and you both snap toward the sound. Hughie is standing a few feet away, his ID badge now on a lanyard around his neck and a notebook in his hand. His face looks pained, struggling to contain what would be a hysterical laugh if you weren’t all supposed to be undercover.
You stumble back from Butcher with wide eyes, your mouth trying to form words but no sound comes out.
Butcher straightens his jacket and clears his throat, “Sorry, mate, as you were.”
Hughie takes a deep breath and turns toward the room, and you have to commend him for his self-control.
Butcher looks down at you, “D’you think that was convincing enough?”
You giggle, “Maybe a little too convincing.”
He smirks and swipes his thumb across your bottom lip, wiping at the smeared lipstick. You know you must look like a wreck, your makeup smudged and your face blotchy and red, but you don’t care.
“Better get back in there before you get me arrested for public indecency,” he says, taking your hand in his.
You laugh again as he leads you back into the room, guiding you through the throngs of people and toward your table. Lucille greets you with a smile, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she surveys your flustered state. Butcher sits and shuffles his chair closer to yours before placing a hand on your thigh, much higher than where it was before.
“It’s a wonderful thing, isn’t it?” Lucille whispers to you.
You frown, “What is?”
“That love and passion,” she replies with a grin. “He just adores you, I can tell. Don’t ever let go of what you two have, it’s rare.”
You try to hide your smile, but it’s almost impossible. “I won’t.”
You’re not sure what you’ve missed but you assume it was Annie’s speech as the chatter around you is filled mostly with her name. The woman from before returns to the stage to rave some more, though you don’t bother trying to pay attention. Butcher is watching you with hungry eyes, filling your head with filthy thoughts and absolutely soaking your panties.
“So, Mrs. Williams,” he says, his voice low, “got any plans after this?”
“Not really,” you reply, “but I do think there’s a toy in the top drawer of my dresser calling my name.”
He swallows thickly, “Is that so?”
You nod, “I’m feeling a little wound up.”
“Perhaps I could help you unwind,” he whispers, “think I’d do a better job than that fuckin’ toy.”
“That’s a bold statement, are you sure?”
His fingers dig into your thighs with enough pressure to bruise, making your whole body jolt.
“Oh, I’m fuckin’ sure.”
His hand slides up your thigh and you part your legs instinctively.
He smirks, “Good girl, so responsive.”
The burning in your core pulses, sending white hot waves of desire up your spine to cloud your mind. His fingers brush the crotch of your panties, barely a touch but enough to make you sigh softly.
“You’re soaked,” he whispers, “so ready for my c-”
Cheers erupt throughout the room, drowning out his voice and startling you out of your stupor. His hand slides back down your leg and his smirk breaks into a devilish grin when you look at him with a scowl.
“Sorry, love,” he says as he retrieves his phone from his jacket pocket.
You take a moment to collect your thoughts, drawing steady breaths and trying to focus on anything but the man beside you. He chuckles at his phone before tucking it back into his pocket.
“Was that your mistress?” you tease.
He raises his brows, “Is that jealousy I’m hearin’?”
You slide your hand up his thigh, stopping just below his crotch to squeeze.
“You tell me, do I have anything to be jealous of?”
His voice is almost a groan, “Never.”
“Good.”
You slide your hand over his crotch, relishing in the way his whole body tenses before you pull back and fold your hands in your own lap. He sighs and takes a generous gulp from his glass of champagne, grimacing at the taste before leaning toward you with an arm over the back of your chair.
“You’re a fuckin’ tease, you know that?”
You turn to him, your face barely an inch from his, “Oh, baby, you haven’t seen anything yet.”
He leans back in his chair, his jaw tense but his eyes sparkling with mischief.
“You fond of that dress?” he asks casually.
“This old thing? Nah.”
He nods once, “Good, because I’m goin’ to fuckin’ destroy it.”
The woman sitting on his other side chokes on her mouthful of champagne, casting an abhorrent glare toward the two of you before completely turning her back. You have to swallow your laughter, averting your gaze to your lap as Butcher chuckles quietly.
You feel your purse vibrate at the same time that Butcher reaches for his pocket. You pull your phone out and check the messages, finding several from Hughie.
‘We’re here to WORK, not fornicate.’
‘I just spent five minutes laughing to myself in the toilet.’
‘The shows closing soon, we should leave before the crowds. Unless you and Butcher are busy ;)’
“D’you think you can make it out of here without your knees bucklin’, love?” Butcher asks with a smirk.
You tuck your phone away and twist in your chair so that your legs are toward him, parting them slowly. The red silk slides against your skin and the split opens with your legs. Butcher’s gaze drops, his whole face turning red as his eyes grow wide.
“I bet you a hundred dollars that you’re rock hard right now,” you whisper, leaning forward.
His jaw twitches as his gaze moves to your chest, and you smirk before twisting toward Lucille.
“We’re going to duck out before the masses, but it was lovely meeting you,” you say, “and best wishes to your grandkids. They’re lucky to have such incredible grandparents.”
She smiles at you, her eyes watery, “It was lovely meeting you too, dear.”
Her husband grumbles a farewell and you smile politely at the rest of the table who you hadn’t bothered to meet before turning back to Butcher expectantly. You have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from giggling at the way he shifts in his seat.
“Pleasure meeting you,” he nods toward Lucille and Jack.
He pushes his chair back and stands up, drawing a hand out of his pocket and dropping two fifty dollar bills onto the table before stepping back. A grin breaks across your face as you snatch the money and stand up, taking Butcher’s outstretched hand and letting him lead you out of the room. You almost stumble at the pace at which he drags you through the crowds, not stopping until you’re through the foyer, out the doors, and a good distance from the building’s entrance.
“You owe me,” he growls, yanking on your wrist so that you fall into his arms.
“Take whatever you want,” you whisper, “I’m all yours.”
Another rumble vibrates through his chest, and the knot of anticipation in your stomach twists tighter.
“Good, you’re here,” Hughie calls, his feet slapping against the pavement as he jogs toward you.
Butcher’s hold goes slack, and you take a reluctant step away from him as MM and Kimiko follow a few paces behind Hughie. The cold air nips at your bare skin, making you shiver.
“Where’s Frenchie?” MM asks.
“On his way,” Hughie replies with his phone in his hand, “and the car is close.”
You startle at the feeling of material falling around your shoulders, and glance up as Butcher steps in front of you, his arms guiding his blazer over your trembling body. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, looking up at him through your thick lashes as his lips curl into a soft smile. He moves back to stand at your side and wraps one arm around you, pulling you against side.
Hughie’s grin is so wide you want to slap it off his face.
“Not a word,” Butcher mutters.
Hughie chuckles, “I didn’t say anything.”
MM is clearly amused, and even Kimiko is giggling when Frenchie comes jogging up behind them.
“Did I miss something?” he asks, his brows raised as he looks from Butcher to you.
“Car’s here,” Hughie announces, and you all step toward the curb.
Hughie climbs in the front seat and greets the driver before texting rapidly on his phone, no doubt messaging Annie to let her know you were all safe and heading home. Kimiko and Frenchie shuffle toward the back of the van, and MM grumbles when neither you nor Butcher volunteer to join them. He squeezes between the two of them on the backseat before Butcher helps you into the van, and you take the single seat behind the passenger as Butcher falls into the last seat behind the driver.
You shrink into his jacket, enveloping yourself in his scent and relishing the warmth that his body had left behind. His eyes don’t leave you for the duration of the trip, studying your face, lingering on your lips, and moving up and down your body over and over again.
The drive feels much longer than it should, but the car finally pulls up outside your apartment block and you all pile out. Frenchie begins rambling about pieces of information he overheard, and MM fills in some of the gaps with snippets that he picked up in the press crowd. You almost feel guilty that you did nothing but dry hump Butcher and chat with an elderly rich woman, but that guilt washes away the moment you step inside the apartment.
“Bed, now,” Butcher tells you, tugging you by your hand toward the master bedroom.
“Y/N,” Hughie calls before you can disappear, “I thought your bedroom was that way.”
You turn to him with a frown, finding that stupid boyish grin stretched across his lips as the rest of the room watches you with amused faces.
“I’m not going to sleep, Hughie,” you say, before turning to Butcher, “I’m not tired.”
You catch a glimpse of his disgusted expression before you turn and rush into Butcher’s bedroom, followed closely by the man himself. His hand catches the collar the jacket and pulls it off of you as you step toward the bed.
“Not tired?” he asks, starting on the top button of his shirt.
You sit on the edge of the bed and kick your heels off. “Not at all.”
“Good.”
In two strides, he’s right in front of you, using his knee to nudge your legs apart so he can stand between them. His eyes trace up your bare leg, stopping where the red material reveals an inch of your black panties, and he sighs.
“So,” you say, leaning back with your hands on the bed, “what do I owe you?”
His self-control snaps and his hands yank at the opening of his shirt, ripping the rest of the buttons apart before he shrugs it off his shoulders. He straddles your hips and pushes you back, his lips assaulting your neck as you writhe beneath him.
“You said, I could take whatever fuckin’ I want,” he mutters against your skin.
You only moan in response and he sinks his teeth into your neck, hard enough to leave a bruise before soothing it with his tongue.
“I’m gon’a take all of you,” he growls, “but first-”
He sits back suddenly, his fingers making quick work of his belt and the fastenings of his trousers.
“I made a promise to this dress,” he finishes, before gripping the material on either side of the slit and ripping it.
You gasp as the silk falls loose around your body, tearing right up to the neck and cleaving the dress apart entirely. His eyes rake over your bare skin as he licks his lips and drops onto his hands to hover over you, grinding his hips down and eliciting another moan from your mouth.
“Fuckin’ hell,” he sighs, “you’re gon’a kill me with those pretty noises, sweethear’.”
“Butcher,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I need you.”
His elbows buckle and his body falls on top of yours as his lips capture yours in a searing kiss.
“You have me,” he murmurs against your mouth, “you’ve got all of me.”
END.
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deanoheartspie · 6 months
Note
hi:) can you please do soldier boy x reader where reader is from Butcher's team and very shy and kinda afraid of soldier boy and one night when everyone is sleeping she is awake (in her fluffy pyjamas which soldier boy finds cute) and eating she realizes soldier boys shield is there and starts examining/touching it AND of course suddenly soldier boy is right behind her so she gets scared but he makes jokes etc so they start talking
Well aren't you cute
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Pairing: Y/n fem! x Soldier boy
Warnings: none.
A/n: feel free to send me more asks! I hope I did well!
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Y/n had been with Butcher for a few months, working along his side with a few others like Hughie. Butcher complained and cussed as he wondered how they'd possibly take down Homlander little did he know what was coming.
••••
Next thing Y/n knew she was sitting in a motel quietly watching the news when Butcher and Hughie walked in with no other than Soldier Boy... “Well well, what do we have here... A cute lady it seems” the man states with a teasing smirk, her ears red and she turns off the TV disappearing off to the bathroom to hide out.
The woman was never good at being around new people, it made her nervous and shy so sometimes she needed a moment to herself to ease the nerves. When she came out she was dressed in her favorite pink fluffy pajamas that kept her nice in warm in shitty motels such as this one.
Butcher and Hughie were nowhere in sight, they had sent her a text that they had separate motel rooms but that she was in charge of Soldier Boy. She didn't see the man around so she assumed he was tucked away in bed, so digging through her backpack she pulled some snacks out and watched TV. The sound of her bag rustling, chatter coming from the screen of people trying to guess the answers on a game show that was rigged when she heard footsteps behind her causing the woman to freeze.
“Seems like you know how to dress for a party” He snickered, looking her up and down in all honesty he found the pajama set fitting and overall cute since that was exactly what she was.
She blushed and pulled her hands out of the chip bag ripping her hands on some napkins, she didn't say a single word to him but she couldn't help but notice the shield proped up against the bed. “Woah...” the details on the shield were beautiful, she's never been this close to something like this before and honestly? It was pretty cool, it was quite heavier then she thought it would be.
“How did you carry this all the time?” she softly asks her eyes sparkling curiosity.
“Theres handle on the back of it sweetcheeks.” Ben lifts it up like it weighs nothing, which it most likely wasn't heavy at all for him.
As they night went on, the tv was still playing in the background as they both cuddled in the bed while she tried her hardest to explain technology to him, it was not going very well.
“This shit is stupid. Why make everything harder then it needs to be?” Ben huffed out trying to figure out how to work an iPhone.
“You can ask all the rich people that” she whispered with a slight shrug.
•••••
“Good night sweetcheeks.”
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peach-coke · 5 months
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➤ The Boys || Season 4 - Official Teaser Trailer
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tomercaponesource · 2 months
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sardonic-the-writer · 10 days
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐀 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐲 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞
↳ includes: billy butcher, hughie campbell, frenchie, mothers milk, kimiko, and soldier boy
↳ warnings: canon type violence and happenstances. hinted to take place during season three at some points.
↳ notes: sorry butcher is in here so much. he's the kind of guy that can't shut the fuck up, so i feel like he's always getting in everyone business no matter what
↳ song: rock me like a hurricane—scorpions
masterlist | commissions | carrd
𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐮𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫
• He has mixed feelings about you
• On one hand, you’re a great team player. Always making sure the job gets done, willing to put yourself on the line for the team, one of the most willing to kill a supe in a snap—second only to him—and always managing to make shit up on the fly whenever something inevitably goes wrong on a mission. Butcher has seen you fend off an entire team of armed Vought men before with nothing but a well timed lie and piece of pipe. That’s not something to scoff at, even if he does anyways
• But on the other hand, he has a feeling that you were just as much as an annoying shit as he acted sometimes
• “Sorry to say this guys—“ You said one night through the food in your mouth as Chinese takeout sat on a dirty table in front of you, curtesy of M.M and his pocketbook, “—but I think I’d betray you all for a fortune cookie. I’d betray my country for a fortune cookie.”
• "You say that like we ain’t already betrayin’ the cunts, sunshine.” Butcher eyed you from across the room as you nicked Frenchies own cookie from him while he was staring off at Kimiko for the tenth time that night
• “Too right, Butch.” You grinned like a shark at your idiotic nickname for him, and he ignored you as you did so; like he always did
• He definitely appreciates your enthusiasm behind his plans. Unlike Hughie or M.M, who despite working in the business of taking down supes seem to be hesitant about doing too much shit, you don’t seem to have a very strong moral code. That’s not necessarily a good thing in anyone’s eyes except for Butcher’s, who knows that he can always count on you to have his back in whatever situation he manages to squeeze himself into
• “Thanks for comin’.” He grunted at you while vomiting into a toilet, green bile spewing from his mouth. Butcher’s eyes burned with the urge to let out a laser beam, and he did so for a moment, splitting the porcelain throne we was leaning over in two
• “Want me to hold your hair back for you, honey?” You didn’t even miss a beat to start making fun of his situation, which made Butcher growl at you even from his current position. Despite your sarcastic demeanor in the moment, and the way he had just scorched an unexpected hole through the shitty bathroom, Butcher knew you’d help, no questions asked. And that’s exactly what you did, grabbing whatever he asked you to as he gave you a run down on the latest solo mission he had been attempting to get by with on his own
• “Jesus, poor Gunpowder huh?” You mused as you crossed your arms and leaned on the sink above him. For a moment Butcher thought you were granting the dead supe a bit of sympathy before he saw the glint in your eyes. “If the last thing I saw before I kicked it was your mug, I’d probably wanna get it over with yeah?”
• “Do me a favor. Go grab the toaster in the other room an’ take a nice bath with it, would ya?”
• “You first, Butcher.”
𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐢𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥
• The two of you are like peas in a pod. Two very weird, very cautious peas in a pod
• Even if Butcher is beside himself with annoyance at having another, as he put it, “soft cunt with a morality complex,” join the team, Hughie couldn’t be happier that someone seems to share his values on supes, on Vought; on the world, really
• In the first season or so, the two of you would probably spend a lot of time in between working with everyone else in the field to come up with a way to take Vought down the right way. Eventually,as we all know, that later falls apart, but it exhilarates Hughie to know that there’s people out there like him that want to try and put in the effort for things like that
• “Yeah, so if we can get one more witness about the Termite incident to come forward and testify—“ You bit your pen between your teeth and nodded as Hughie waved his hands over a stack of papers and talked at a million miles an hour, somehow understanding each and every word.
• “—then we could finally take a supe down legally. And that would make way for a whole round of others; Hughie you’re a genius.” You finished his sentence for him, slapping a hand down on the table with a grin as Hughie smiled. Somewhere in the distance someone snorted wryly, no doubt having heard the entire conversation. You had no doubt it was Butcher, but that didn’t matter to the either of you with how happy you were at the revelation. No matter how temporary it would turn out to be
• Hughie finds himself trusting you quite a bit. He can get attached pretty easily, so he finds himself willing to do anything to back you up—within reason of course. He still has some semblance of sanity left
• Listens to Billy Joel with you! Doesn’t matter if you all are coming back from a mission covered in blood—once it was whale guts—he will stick one earbud in and leave the other out for you as he presses play on a mix. More than once the others have found both of you passed out and snoring as the faint sound of Billy Joel plays through the headphones
• “Think we should wake them up, mon amie?” Frenchie tilts his head as he looks down on the both of you. Hughie chest rises and falls with a softness he couldn’t afford on the regular. You were positioned far away from him to have your back to him, somehow keeping your end of the earbud in as you drooled
• “Nah, let em sleep. God knows they need it.” M.M shook his head with crossed arms, the sight reminding him of better times
• “Oi! Stop ogling at the knackered sods and come help me with this, would ya?”
• “Fuck you, Butcher.” M.M said with a sigh, leaving the room to go and help anyway
𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞
• He fucks with you so hard
• I mean, come on, someone that’s as excited about making bombs as he is? Someone that is willing to understand French? To shit talk everyone else to their face—especially Butcher?? He might have to marry you on the spot
• Please learn French. He will literally beg you to start. Conjugates, vocabulary, even a simple ‘please’ and ‘thank you’. Anything at all. Will absolutely not judge you for your horrific scent or pronunciation if you have any
• Bomb lessons on the side, too. If you already know the basics, or are a pro, it’ll be a lot more breezy, but he’s willing to start from scratch. It’ll be nice to have a partner to help him with his creations on the team for once, and even better since he likes you
• The two of you, and Kimiko obviously, are practically joined at the hip. What I said about the shit talking earlier was real, too. All of you use different languages or sign to voice whatever you’re thinking. It’s nice to be able to speak your mind freely, and there’s the added bonus of not having M.M give you that sharp look of his, or Butcher calling you names. Anymore than usual, that is
• “What do you reckon the three of ‘em are always on about?” Butcher took a swig from his drink. He was sitting next to Hughie with a beer on one of their down days as the younger man typed away on a computer. He was watching you Frenchie and Kimiko from across the room as you all signed at each other with giant smiles on your face. Frenchie would speak occasionally, but all that came out was his mother tongue, and your face would pause for a moment as you let your brain process what he was saying. Then all of you would break out into another round of grins, something that Butcher had to deadpan at
• “Probably planning a coup.” Hughie answered Butcher without even looking up from his screen. He knew who he was talking about anyways. It wasn’t hard to guess thanks, to the occasional loud exclamation from Frenchie as you signed something particularly risqué or funny
• Butcher flitted his eyes away in annoyance from you all after he recognized the word ‘cunt’ in the passing conversation, along with a sign that was clearly supposed to represent him
• “I think at this poin’ I’d prefer tha’.” He grumbled into his cup, and all of you laughed
• “Cheer up, Butcher. At least Frenchie isn’t teaching them how to make homemade cherry bombs again.”
• “Shut up.”
𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐤
• Finally. Someone other than him can be the voice of reason in the group
• It’s tiring being the one to hold everyone together all of the time. It might help if Butcher wasn’t so much of an ass, or if Hughie didn’t feel the need to derail every plan with thoughts of his own, but M.M knew that wouldn’t be happening anytime soon. So he’d take any help he could get with reigning everyone in
• Definitely bonds with you over your shared habit of wearing band t-shirts to meetups or hideouts. I’d like to imagine that at one point the both of you show up wearing the exact same one, and it goes exactly how one would expect
• “Same shirt.” M.M notices one morning, pointing at your torso with the initials N.W.A written over it. He’s smiling, and so are you as what he’s wearing in turn dawns on you
• “Same shirt!! Hell yeah.”
• Fist bumps. Fist bumps galore, man. The two of you fist bump a lot. To punctuate sentences, drive a point home, agree on stuff—anything. It’s your own way of communicating with each other without having to bat an eye
• It’ll take M.M a while, but eventually he’ll start to really open up about missing his family to you. Beyond just showing you pictures of his daughter at soccer practice, I mean. If he trusts you enough to have his back in a shoot out, then he trusts you with this
• At one point, it goes farther than his (regrettably ex) wife and daughter, and eventually branches out into what he’s willing to tell about his dad and brothers. You feel like you know all of them by the time he’s done, and that only makes the typewriter story hit harder when he finally decides to reveal it
• Let’s just say you were pretty willing to jump Soldier Boy on M.M’s half the first time you were left in a room with them
• “Just one swing I swear—“
• “He will literally beat you into a pulp.” M.M deadpanned, doing his best to avoid looking at the other imposing figure in the room as he clasped two hands on either of your shoulders
• “Listen to your friend, sweetheart. Would hate to have to scrub my hands clean of any of your blood. Getting under the fingernails is always hard.”
• “See what I mean, just one punch that’s all—“
• “No.”
𝐊𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐨
• It’s honestly great for her to be able to hang around someone that feels the same way that she does. Maybe it’s how silent you are that really draws her attention at first, but Kimiko really grows to appreciate you as a member of the team
• Probably gets a lot of joy from having a friend like you. She constantly asks to do things like have you watch movies with her or to do ‘sleepovers,’ which are really just the two of you crashing on the main room couch together
• She never got a chance at a normal childhood or friends, so you and Frenchie are the closest she gets to a peace of mind
• Not even a question about it, she’s making you learn her sign language
• Will stare at you for days on end, saying nothing but everything at the same time until you agree to lean. Once you do, it’s all over. She gets the biggest most happiest look anyone ever seen, and there’s no turning back from that
• “Kimiko, what are you doing. It’s two in the morning.” You groan at her from under the thin covers of your bed, doing your best to ignore her hands as they fly about. It’s the childish equivalent of ‘if I can’t see you, you can’t see me’
• ‘No time to sleep. We have to go over stuff before the mission tomorrow. It will help us communicate.’ She was unnerved by your lack of enthusiasm. If anything it only spurred her on more, shaking your bed and pulling at your covers as you groaned. Even with the progress you had been making with signing over the past few weeks, your knowledge was still a bit shaky, and being half asleep didn’t help, so you only caught a few words. Enough to know what she wanted, however
• “Go away, Kimiko.” You whined. The shaking stopped, and for a moment you thought your request had worked. You were more than happy to fall back into whatever dream you had been having beforehand
• Then you heard the rushing of feet and a large weight slammed onto your legs
• “Goddamnit!—“
• Frenchie found the both of you the next morning; Kimiko looking bright eyed and bushy-tailed while you were practically falling asleep from where you sat. It was a teasing point for you over the next two weeks
• Between you, there’s moments like that where, despite Kimiko’s silence and your habit to keep your thoughts to yourself, nothing ever goes unseen or unsaid. The two of you know each other like the back of your hands, and sometimes you wonder if you’d even need her sign to communicate
𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬: 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲
• If the saying ‘this town is only big enough for the both of us’ could apply here, it absolutely would
• It’s almost ironic how bad Soldier Boy handles another version of himself. You’ve got just as much snark and anger as him, and it pisses him the hell off. Constantly.
• Maybe it’s because you didn’t fan boy over him as soon as he flashed a few cheesy lines that keeps his disdain for you boiling, or that you didn’t keep your distance when he threatened to eradicate your entire bloodline if you didn’t stop running your mouth at him
• “Need help with that?” He cocks a brow at you one day, watching with poorly hidden annoyance as you struggle to tie a knot in your shoes for the fifth time in a minute. The offer isn’t serious, and even if it was, he has no doubt you wouldn’t hesitate to kick him in the face if he bent down to tie your shoe for you
• “Need help taking my dick down your throat?” You parroted back at him while raising your voice in a false-happy tone. Finally you get the shoestrings to cooperate, completely missing the way Soldier Boy glows in a harsh warning at your attitude
• “Ladies, ladies, you’re both pretty.” Butcher calls from the room over, no doubt tired of the bickering between the two of you that had been nonstop for the past few days. “Let’s get a move on before one of you decides to claw the others bloody eyes out, yeah?”
• The fact that you’re not even a supe just ticks him off more. Only a few people have ever pushed his buttons like this, most of them being supes, and they always ended up being nothing but red paste in the next few minutes
• You make sure to point it out to him several times that you’re just acting like he always does, making sure to don a shit eating grin when he clenches his fist at your comment
• Please for the love of everything that’s holy tone it the fuck down. Some people may say that Soldier Boy has no self-control, but it sure is taking a whole lot of it not to kick you in the crotch as hard as possible
• “The feelings mutual.” You deadpan at him when he eventually shares that fantasy out loud. He knew full well that if you even so much as tried that, you’d end up with a broken ankle and your front pinned to the closest brick wall, but he had no doubts that you would go for it anyway
• Seriously. How has he not murdered you in your sleep yet
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obsessedwrhys · 26 days
Note
Can we have a part 2 Deadpool reader with the boys and maybe soldier boy too❓❓ if you want to of course
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The Boys x Deadpool!Reader
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t/w: loooots of dark humour/jokes, reader's origin will be explained underneath, reader is still an asshole lol that comes with the character, mention about killing,death,gore, weed, drugs, Reader is gn!!!
ᯓ★ here's a version with the seven, kiss kiss <3
Origin:
Quick summary, when you were born, your parents had agreed with Vought to have you be pumped full of Compound V so you could grow up and be a hero working under them, but the problem was when you were around 7, they changed their mind so Vought ended up sending several people to come to your house to settle the matter.
Your whole family was massacred in the living room during thanksgiving and when they tried to capture you. You were able to run away. Homeless and living on the street, you grew up in a life of crime, depending on nobody but yourself. Make sense? No? Good! Let's start now.
BUTCHER
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To him, you were like a fly that won't leave him alone.
How he knew you was through Mallory, she thought you were okay and fit for the job since you hated Vought just as much.
Obviously he didn't like you once you were introduced to him and the two (M.M and Frenchie)
"No way am I lettin' a supe join us"
":("
Though after what happened to Mallory's grandchildren, the gang pretty much dispersed but wherever Butcher went, you followed. Since he was the only person you trusted... and also enjoy annoying the shit out of.
He'd head inside a club, relieved he hadn't seen you for the past few days so he decided to grab a drink by the bar to unwind.
"Whiskey" He said with his eyes looking around, paranoia shown on his face.
Once his drink was served, he would look back to find your eyes smiling at him, you were wearing a bartender disguise over your red suit.
"Did you miss me?"
"Oh christ..."
When you heard word that he was gathering back the team, you had to be there. What kind of friend would you be if you didn't?
Undoubtedly he had to admit, there were times where he was grateful to have you on the team but there were also other times he regretted it.
For example, that time when you guys needed to sneak into a lab to get something and the goal was to stay quiet but even that simple rule was hard for you to follow.
"Room's up ahead. (Y/N) I need you to—"
"Heads up!" You said as you threw a bomb at the metal door.
The explosion causing the alarm to turn on and it had the whole lab now on high alert. You shrug innocently when Butcher glared at you like he wanted to tear you apart.
Also, you enjoy constantly pissing him off. You can't die so you don't really care if he'll kill you for it.
"Maybe, if you didn' press the fuckin' button, we wouldn't have to come bac' to save yer ass from the guards"
"OOH GOD SAVE THE QUEEEN!! Please, cry me a fucking river. I got us the target didn't I?"
"He's dead"
"Well you weren't being specific when you said to capture him"
But it's fine, all his frustration will be solved once he uses you as bait. He knows you can't die but hey, it makes him feel slightly better watching you get shot at.
Despite your ups and downs, he appreciates you. When the team would turn against him on his insane journey for revenge, he always found you the only one still standing by his side. You're loyal and he likes that.
Compatibility? 75%
HUGHIE
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You treat him like a child.
No seriously you baby talk him sometimes and it annoys him
"Awwwww is little hughie angry?"
"Stop..."
"Does baby want his milky?"
Since he's pretty much the only person who isn't that exposed to crime as the others, he's terrified 100% everytime when he's paired up to do any dirty work with you.
"Now listen buddy, you better start talking or I'm gonna shoot" You said, gun raised at the man who seemed to be begging you to spare his life in a language you didn't speak.
"I don't think he speaks English"
"Ah shit... ENGLISH!! SPEAK!! ABCDEFG??!"
"How is shouting in English gonna make him understand?"
"Eh, you're right"
BANG
"WHY'D YOU SHOOT HIM??!"
"Well did you expect me to pull out Duolingo and start taking classes?!"
You had to admit, it was a pain in the ass each time he starts giving you the cold shoulder whenever he gets mad at you for doing something terrible. It was like his way of guilt tripping you so you always try to apologise in your own ways.
"Hey..." You said, handing him ice cream.
"...I uh... I don’t like Strawberry ice cream... I thought I told you that"
"God you're so ungrateful!!"
Since he was such a scaredy cat, you try to tone down your craziness a bit. For the sake of him not going into cardiac arrest.
"(Y/N) STOP!! She has nothing to do with this!! She was tricked" Hughie grabbed you by the arm to pull your gun away from the innocent woman.
You turn your head to look at him, then at the woman, then at him again, then the woman, then him again.
"Ugh finnnne... you're boring..."
However, he does appreciate you trying to be a better person. Even you had to admit, after you met him and became friends. You noticed yourself being less brutal than you used to be. The thought keeps you awake at night and it scares the shit out of you.
But oh well, how could you ever say no to those scared little puppy eyes?
Compatibility? 55%
FRENCHIE
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He's like your hype man which is concerning.
Not because you're not afraid to get the job done but also because you always have his back.
"Well... I need some gunpowder but I've run out of them" Frenchie said, telling Butcher that the plan was most likely not gonna happen.
"Hold on" You said with the typical comical ☝🏻 gesture before heading into a different room. Everyone exchanging confused glances at what you could possibly be doing.
After a few minutes you'd return with a bag of gunpowder while struggling to zip up your pants with the other hand.
"Don't tell me how I got it. It almost tore me apart" You said, rubbing your ass.
On stressful nights, you guys would enjoy smoking weed together by the sofa and share stories of your traumatic childhood. It's how you guys bond and it's oddly wholesome.
Also when he needs a shoulder to cry on, you were always there for him. You two shared a type of relationship that even Romeo and Juliet couldn't compete with. To be fair they're dead so they actually can't fight.
"Hey reader!! If you're gonna keep reading then you might as well give the post a like or a repost. C'mon, pleassssseeee pleasepleaseplease"
"Ma cerise, who are you talking to?"
Although he doesn't mind your behaviour sometimes but he won't tolerate it if you ever cross the line on something. He's like the owner who sprays water at his pet cat when they don't listen.
"What are you mad at me for?!?!"
"You damn near tried to get us killed!!"
"Hey! You're the one who said it would be a suicide mission so I made sure it was a suicide mission!!"
"WHAT?"
There's no way he can deny how curious he is about where you get your guns and things. He once went in your room to find boxes of dynamite and a RPG just placed against the wall like furniture.
Like do you have a supplier or are you your own supplier?
Compatibility? 99.9%
M.M
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Everybody deserves second chances.
He always tells him that to calm himself down everytime you managed to fuck up a thoroughly planned mission.
"What did I say about pressing buttons (Y/N)?"
"Honestly I stopped paying attention after you said 'Listen here'."
M.M has to be the only person you fear to the fact you try very hard to avoid him, this is because his long ass lectures are such a pain to deal with.
"How many times do I have to remind you? You can't just go around doing shit like that. You gotta consider the amount of danger you'll put everyone in..."
"(Blah blah blah... he's still going... uggggh... make it stop...!)"
Unable to handle the lecture any longer, you ended up shooting yourself in the head.
"(Y/N)!" His tone more disappointed than concern since this wasn't the first time you did this to escape his talks.
You know that russian dollhouse he tries to build in season 2? Well you'd constantly be found standing or sitting near him when he's trying to finish the set.
Since you're aware of his OCD, you like to edge him on by sometimes rearranging the parts or stealing some of it so he ends up searching high and low for the missing parts.
You had to admit it was entertaining to watch him accuse other people for touching his stuff when it was you behind all the schemes.
I'd like to think that after every mission when you happen to die, he'd be the one in charge of collecting your remains so you'd grow back.
That's why it comes naturally that his job is to make sure you don't do anything extreme.
"Where are my bombs??!?!" You'd shout, storming around the place looking for them.
"I sold them. Thought it'd do us more good knowing you won’t accidentally blow us up"
"WHAT?! GOD! It's like the writers of the show couldn't afford another explosion for this season so they had to use this DUMB of an excuse!!"
Though he does see some good in you through the messed up parts, he once saw you give his daughter a cute teddy bear when they've been burned by Vought.
She still has the bear and M.M likes to think that maybe you have a soft spot for kids since you never had a proper childhood. That's why he chooses to understand you rather than just being ignorant about your behaviour.
Compatibility? 80%
KIMIKO
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She finds you a little odd but she doesn't mind once she realises how everyone is used to you being like that.
Whenever you're bored, you'd come to see what she was up to. Just imagine you sitting on the sofa like a curious kid as you watch her write alphabets on the book.
She also tries to communicate with you since she thought maybe your fucked up mind would understand her better in a way. Like how in season 2 she was repeatedly writing 'boy' to Frenchie but he didn't understand, so she came to you.
"Woow... watching you try to talk to me is like watching a baby take it's first breath..."
"😐"
"It's beautiful..."
Turns out her theory was wrong, you had a harder time understanding her compared to the rest.
Since you're the only two people in the group with powers, most of the time you two are sent on dangerous missions together. It's a nightmare for her because everybody knows communication is key but one is mute and the other doesn't listen.
"(Be quiet! There's people in the other room!)" She'd sign to you but you were busy humming a song while throwing around the enemies equipment.
"Oooh, what's this?" You held up a Homelander figurine which made you laugh as you show it to her.
"Hey look! 'I'm Homelander, I'm God's favourite. I play golf with Jesus every Sunday."
"(Can you please take this seriously?)"
"You're right, you gotta stop messing around Kimiko! We have a target to kill here" You said and you threw the figurine away which apparently clashes into a stack of boxes that came crashing down. The sound making everyone inside the building grab their weapons and began cornering you two in the room.
"😡"
"Okay that wasn't me that was gravity"
For the boys, you were plan A and she was plan B. That's because you always end up rushing into a fight first which most of the time resulted in you getting dismembered, which she later comes in to save you.
For example when Stormfront had stopped you guys, your bright ass thought it was a good idea to charge at her even though everyone was signalling you to stop. Next thing you know you were just a head being carried by M.M, you ended up watching as Kimiko fought Stormfront with the help of Starlight and Queen Maeve.
"That's my girl!! Now can anyone lend me a hand? I think I lost mine"
Compatibility? 97%
Bonus +
SOLDIER BOY
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You know the scene where he walks out of his containment with the gas surrounding him? You swore when you watched him step out butt naked, you could hear angels singing and trumpets playing inside your head.
Shockingly enough, he was the only person who appreciated your humour. Could be a generation thing. He's just relieved not everyone has gone soft over the years.
In a way, you feel like you've become his babysitter. Everytime Butcher and Hughie left to do some business, you were in charge of making sure he doesn't blow up anyone. You kept him entertained so he didn't mind. That's why on the hunt for his former team members, he immediately chose you to be by his side.
"I'll take red with me"
"Red as in the american flag or the russians?" You asked which had him do the typical boomer laugh.
"I like you, you're funny" He said with a strong pat on your shoulder.
Butcher doesn't mind you with him cause he trusts that you can keep him under control. Hughie on the other hand isn't sure if you can even keep yourself under control.
"Shhh... wait... do you hear that?"
"Ah shit, did I accidentally said my dirty thoughts out loud? It's just you look breedable in that suit"
Another thing he likes about you is that you're okay with killing pretty much anyone, just try not to overstep cause that could potentially piss him off.
"I told you he's mine" He said as he had you pinned against one of the trees, apparently you had shot Mindstorm in the head when he literally made it clear to you minutes ago that was his kill.
"Quite possessive aren't you? I can recommended a therapist I know. Her names Martha—"
"You shut your mouth before I shove my shield up your ass"
"Gasp don't you DARE threaten me with a good time!!"
At the end of Season 3, you would obviously side with Butcher when everyone started to turn against Soldier Boy. He had to admit he was kinda hurt though, he expected you to be on his side.
"So what? You're crawling back to him now? After what we've been through?"
"Sorry big daddy, but Butcher has been my day one and I also happen to love him veryvery much"
Cue Butcher rolling his eyes out of disgust.
Compatibility? 100% but after the betrayal? 0% 😔
176 notes · View notes
zepskies · 3 days
Text
Wake Me Up - Part 2
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Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader
Summary: A few weeks after you and Ben celebrate your first Christmas together, Ben is returning from another mission with the Supe Affairs team. When he discovers that you’ve been taken, he’ll do whatever it takes to find you. And then, to help you heal.
AN: Thank you so much for your lovely responses on Part 1! Last week's angst was very physical. Now let's get into emotional...
Song Inspo: “I Can Read Your Mind” by the Doobie Brothers.
Word Count: 6.4K
Tags/Warnings: Angst, PSTD, hurt/comfort, medical trauma and injuries…and a bit of Nurse Benjamin? lol
💚 Wake Me Up Masterlist || Break Me Down Masterlist
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Part 2: “All in Your Eyes”
At first, it was all shapeless color.
It felt like a small eternity before your vision cleared, and you dimly became aware of being in a hospital room. Your steady heartbeat clipped away on the monitor.
You had an IV in your hand and wires suction-cupped to your chest. Your raggedy clothes had been replaced with a blue paper gown, hidden under the blankets keeping you warm.
It was a slow process, and it hurt, but you managed to turn your head. You saw a man sitting in the corner with a laptop balanced on his lap. He typed with two fingers at a time, which reminded you of your grandfather. His brown hair fell over his furrowed brows, but his beard was well-trimmed.
His head soon rose, possibly feeling the weight of your gaze. His eyes widened a fraction, and he hastily closed the laptop and set it down on his seat before he went to you. You frowned when he came to sit at your bedside, and even touched your cheek with a gentle hand.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he said. His voice was deep and smooth. “How’re you feeling?”
You didn’t have the energy to lean away from his hand, but you did give him a look of weary confusion.
“I…I don’t…who are you?” you asked.
His green eyes went blank for a moment. His hand fell from your cheek. 
Then he chuckled in disbelief.
“Eyes are barely open, and already you’re fucking around,” he said.
That confused you even more. You were saved from answering, however, when there came a knock at the door. A blonde young woman peeked in. She brightened with a shocked, but happy smile when she saw you were awake.
“Hey! Oh my God, you’re awake,” she whispered in excitement. She went to your bed on the other side and picked up your hand. It took you a moment to remember her name, but you did recognize her.
“A-Annie? What…what happened?” you asked. You didn’t recognize the roughness in your own voice.
Annie shared a sobered look with the man sitting beside you, and she looked down at you again.
“Oh, hun. What do you remember?” she said.
You tried hard to think…but you couldn’t. It was all blurry and muddled in your mind.
Then, it was incredibly painful. A sharp, piercing pain that permeated through your skull and rattled down your spine, waking up the rest of your body in the worst of ways.
You whimpered, and the monitor began to beep more incessantly as your heart rate began to climb. You uttered a cry of pain while you held your aching head. You felt the gauze wrapped across your temples, forehead, and under your chin, half-covering your face.
The man turned to Annie with an angry frown.
“Get the goddamn doctor!” he snapped. But he reached for your closest hand and held it gently. He met your tearful eyes. Part of him didn’t know quite how to comfort you though. His eyes flit over your pained face, the way you were gripping your head with one hand.
He brushed his thumb over the one he held.
“…It’s okay, I got you,” he said eventually. “Just breathe.”
You couldn’t respond. There was too much pain, too much confusion. The last thing you saw was the worry in his eyes, before your head fell back against your pillow.
Your world faded away once again.
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Dr. Helen Jeong, the neurologist Grace hired specifically to attend you, had been with you for a while. When she came out, Ben, Annie, your mother Marie, your sister Louisa, and the rest of the team (except for Butcher) were in the waiting room. All of them wanted to hear how you were doing, as well as the doctor’s prognosis.
Ben stood with his arms crossed, and Marie and Louisa followed suit. Technically, Marie was your next of kin, considering you and Ben weren’t married. She was close to tears again, but Louisa was supporting her.
“She’ll need a few more tests to confirm, but it looks like dissociative amnesia,” said Dr. Jeong. “It could be selective. Meaning, she remembers parts of her life, but not others, specifically tied to the past few days and the past year.”
“And me,” said Ben. He was frowning angrily. “Why doesn’t she remember me?”
She gave him a patient look.
“Her skull is fractured, but she’s also gone through an emotional trauma, as well as a physical one," she said. "The memories she’s lost are likely linked to that trauma, and so, her brain is trying to block out anything related to that painful time. It’s the body’s way of coping.”
Somehow, that explanation didn’t make it any better. Something dark and unfamiliar had been churning in Ben’s gut for days, but now he was forced to reckon with it.
It was guilt, and it was eating at his insides, clawing up to his throat. He covered it up with a hot layer of anger.
“Aside from time to heal from her injuries, it’s important that she be taken care of in a familiar, low-stress environment,” said Dr. Jeong. She aimed that last bit at Ben.
“How long until she’s better?” Louisa asked. “Will her memories come back at all?”
Ben shot her a dark look for even asking that question, but the doctor bobbed her head.
“It may take a while. Weeks, or even months, but have patience with her. As she heals, and with therapy, her memories should come back eventually,” she said. She gave Ben in particular a more reassuring glance.
He wasn’t interested in being reassured. He wanted results.
The doctor moved on so she could schedule an MRI for you, among other tests. Annie went over and laid a tentative hand on Ben’s arm. He glared at her touch and slid his gaze over to her.
“Look, we’re here for her…and for you,” she said. Even though she withdrew her hand, she looked sincere. “Whatever she needs, just let us know.”
Hughie was just behind her with a sympathetic look of agreement. M.M., Kimiko, and Frenchie were quietly supportive, if somber. You’d recognized Annie and Hughie earlier, but the others were strangers to you as well—likely because you’d met the other two at Supe Affairs, before you took on one fateful mission that would lead you to Ben. And him to you.
He let out a breath and gave Annie a minimal nod.
She smiled a little, and she and Hughie went back into your room to say goodbye for now. They promised to come back and visit, along with the others.
Meanwhile, Marie and Louisa were talking quietly. Ben’s ears perked up to it.
“I think she should come stay with you, Mom, until she’s better,” Louisa said.
When Ben heard that, he approached them. His darker frown was back in place.
“She’s coming home with me,” he said, in a tone that boded no argument. He should have remembered that your sister was too much like you sometimes. Fucking stubborn.
“If she doesn’t know you, she’s not going to be comfortable with you,” Louisa pointed out.
Marie gave her daughter a look, one that said she could’ve had a little more tact there.
“The best way for her to get her memories back is for her to stay with me, in a familiar place. In her home,” Ben said, his voice terse and shoulders tense.
“But trying to remember is hurting her,” Louisa said. “She needs to heal from her injuries first. And oh, how about this? No one will even tell us how the hell this happened in the first place!”
Ben’s frown deepened. Your younger sister had been warming up to him a bit more since the Christmas holiday you all spent together last month, but it seemed she was just as protective of you as you were of her.
Fine. Ben understood it, but Louisa was just a college student, not even old enough to order a fucking beer. He wouldn’t have this little girl telling him what was best for you.
However, as he glanced at your mother, he also couldn’t bring himself to answer Louisa’s non-question. At least, not with the whole truth.
“It was retaliation,” he replied, “for a supe we put away a while back.”
Louisa sighed heavily. Her lower lip trembled as tears welled up in her eyes, and she bit her lip and shared a look with her mother.
“Why did they want her though?” Louisa asked Ben, sniffling.
He held the tremor of unease deep inside, and he thought fast.
“He had connections in the CIA. She was the only part of the team here at the base, so he singled her out,” he said. The lie rolled off his tongue without much effort, even though part of it did add to the dark churning in his gut. His gaze fell beyond them.
“All of this is a moot fucking point,” he said. “All she needs is my blood, and she’ll be just fine.”
Louisa wiped under her wet eyes and scoffed.
“You think she’s going to accept a blood transfusion from a supe? Look, I’m sorry, but she’s not the person you know right now—”
“All the more reason to fix this sack of bullshit,” Ben snapped.
He turned on his heel and headed for your room. By now, Annie, Hughie, and the rest of them had cleared out. You were dozing, it seemed, but your eyes opened when Ben thundered in, followed closely by Marie and Louisa.
“Ben,” Louisa warned.
“What’s going on?” you asked weakly.
Ben shook his head and went to your bedside. He took up your hand and didn’t notice (or ignored) the apprehension in your eyes.
“Look, I know you think you don’t know me. You’ve been through…a lot,” he said. He paused when he considered the hell you’d probably endured the past few days. His gut began to roil again, but he pushed forward.
“Last year, you got hurt. Bad enough that you were going to need surgery,” he explained. “But I gave you some of my blood, and you healed right up. I’m gonna do the same for you now.”
You saw that he was serious, that he probably believed he was telling the truth. You just didn’t know this man—this supe that they’d told you was actually Soldier Boy. Instinctively you tried to pull your hand out of his grasp.
“No thanks,” you said, trying to hide your nerves. “I think I’m good healing on my own.”
Ben frowned. He held your hand a fraction tighter.
“Look—”
“No, you look,” you said in frustration, and a frisson of wariness. “I know you think I’m your…girlfriend or life partner or whatever the fuck, but I don’t know you.”
Just as the words left your lips, something sharp and painful flashed in your skull.
You can’t. You can’t. You can’t.
“But you do. You fucking know me!” Ben insisted. His grip on your hand tightened enough to make you flinch, a whimper sounding in your throat.
“Hey!” Louisa snapped at him.
“Ben,” Marie said, more gently, but not without urgency.
He realized what he was doing, and he forced himself to relax his grip. He watched you take your hand back and look at him like he was some kind of animal. He also realized then that you were scared. Scared of him.
Fuck me…
By degrees, he relented. Heaving a sigh, he carded a hand through his hair and gave a short nod.
“All right,” he said, and he met your eyes. “I’m, uh…I’m sorry, sweetheart. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
He held your wary gaze until you nodded in acceptance. He took in your face, bruised, and still stained pink from the blood that had been cleaned away with antiseptic wipes. Your neck, arms, and chest were the same; your other wounds were stitched up and bandaged.
According to the first doctor who evaluated you after you came out of emergency surgery (Ben had already forgotten the broad’s name), you’d also sustained broken ribs and a fractured cheekbone, aside from your other injuries.
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“And…what about the rest of it?” Ben had asked. He spoke alone with the doctor, just outside your room. Marie and Louisa were in there with you now in the ICU.
The doctor shook her head, offering a look of professional reassurance.
“No. There’s no evidence of sexual trauma,” she said.
Ben took that information in with a nod. Inside his chest, however, the clenching around his heart eased a great deal.
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But even with that relief, just your battered face, and the way you were looking at him now…it was all too much.
Ben ignored the voice deep inside that said this was what he deserved.
He stood up, and he left you with your family.
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While Louisa had to go back to her dorm for school tomorrow, Marie stayed with you that night. You zoned in and out while New Girl played on the little TV on the wall.
Marie caressed your hair gently, though she was mindful of the way most of your head was wrapped after surgery to fix your skull. If only they could fix your mind too.
“That man…” you trailed. “Um, Soldier Boy. All that crazy shit he was saying…was it true?”
Marie gave you a look for your use of language, but she nodded gravely, and with sadness.
“Yes, Ben was telling the truth,” she said. “He’s the one who saved you. Believe me, he’s very upset that you’re hurt like this.”
You tried to process that as you frowned in contemplation. He’d certainly been…pushy. And determined, like he could actually heal you.
It didn’t matter though. You weren’t about to let a supe feed you his blood like a damn vampire, or whatever Compound V-tainted shit he tried to give you. You weren’t Bella Swan, and this wasn’t fucking Twilight.
“Ben” was rough, and demanding, and gave off a real assholish exterior. Just before he left, though, you also saw his upset. He had taken in your injuries like he was angry, just at the state of you. Like he was mad that he hadn’t been able to prevent it.
“I guess he went home,” you said. Marie shook her head.
“No, he’s still here.”
Your brows knitted together. “What?”
“He’s in the waiting room downstairs,” she explained. “Grace made sure he had a special pass so he could stay with us in the hospital, just in case…”
“In case of what?” you asked. Marie smiled and continued to brush your hair back.
“In case we need him,” she said. “For protection, he said.”
Her eyes shone with sadness again, like she knew something you didn’t. It made you suspicious, but you were surprised that he was still here, despite what you’d said to him.
…Huh, you thought.
Thanks to the (fucking awesome) power of morphine, you fell asleep shortly after.
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A week later, you were still recovering in the hospital. The shitty fact of it was, between the medication for your injuries and the risk of pulling your stitches, you could barely move. Dr. Burke was pleased that you at least had feeling in your extremities. One of her main concerns for you had been mobility issues.
Well, you still had to use a bedpan, and sometimes you missed your mouth when you ate pudding, but at least you could feel your feet.
Marie took the whole work week off from her job in order to stay with you. Louisa visited you every day she could after her classes, but she had a recital coming up, and you didn’t want her to lose focus. You encouraged her to only come if and when she finished getting in all the practice she needed.
And Ben…well, he came often. Mostly when you were sleeping. And every time you woke up, you saw something new from him: a beautiful bouquet of flowers, imported chocolates, a snack from the deli down the street from the hospital, a good breakfast from your favorite café in the city, or even several orders of takeout for you, him, and Marie.
You also noticed how your mother doted on him almost as much as she did on you, offering to grab him cups of coffee, or laying her blanket over him while he napped in the big lounge chair close to your bedside.
The guy just refused to leave. So you didn’t say anything about it. You just watched him whenever you were lucid enough to notice he was there.
As it became easier for you to stay awake, and to observe his quiet, but solid presence, the more your wariness of Ben bled away.
You soon began to realize that you were curious about him. If you really had been with him before, how had you two met? And what had made you get with a supe, let alone the original supe Vought ever introduced to America?
You considered him now while he dozed in that uncomfortable looking chair. His brown locks had once again swept over his brows, almost obscuring his eyes. Part of you itched to lean over and brush it all away from his face. If only you were close enough.
You could admit, if just within the safety of your mind, that he was a damn fine specimen of a man. Between the cut of that bearded jaw, the broadness of his arms and chest, the length of those widespread legs…
“Keep staring at me and you’ll wear a damn hole in my face,” he muttered.
You inhaled sharply, and his eyes cracked open. A small smirk raised his lips in amusement. You smiled as well, more in embarrassment at being caught.
Ben let out a long breath and rolled the cracks out of his neck, confirming your assumption that the chair was even more uncomfortable than it looked. You felt a bit bad for him, that he was putting himself through all that for your sake…for someone who didn’t remember him.
He turned to you in askance. “How’re you holding up?”
You shrugged.
“Okay. Pain meds are finally kicking in, at least for the hour.”
He nodded, dragging a hand over his beard. He knew that you’d eaten lunch with your second dose of the day not too long ago.
“You still hungry?” he asked. “I don’t know how they could give you that shit. What was that, some poor fucking excuse for baby food?”
“Whatever it was, it wasn’t pleasant,” you agreed, but the doctor had requested something you could easily digest, with all the medication you were on.
Ben shook his head and rocked onto his feet. He’d get you a candy bar or something. He knew Twix was your favorite.
“Um…Ben,” you said, halting his steps. He turned to you with a raise of his brows. You pointed over to the folded quilt at the foot of your bed. Your mom had brought it from home.
“Would you give me that blanket over there?” you asked. “I’m a little cold.”
You’d get it yourself, but it pained you to fold yourself over. Ben was gracious enough to go over and get the blanket for you. He even opened it up and covered your body up to your chest. His face was stoic, more or less, but there was care in his hands. You found yourself staring up at his face. He leaned against the guardrail of your bed and met your eyes.
“Thank you,” you said, in a near whisper. “And, um…my water?”
You pointed to the plastic cup and jug on the rolling tray to his left. He shot you a look, but he did as you asked, pouring some fresh water into the cup and handing it to you. His fingers brushed with yours on the pass, but you tried not to focus on the warmth of his hand. Instead, you took a few sips from the cup and handed it back to him. He set it back on the tray for you.
“What’d I do to get the hot nurse?” you couldn’t help but tease.
Ben’s brows rose again, somewhat incredulous this time. Then, he was unable to restrain a cocky smile.
“Hmm, I’m a let that one go, since you’re laid up,” he said. 
His gaze roamed your face. He noted that your purplish bruises were easing up somewhat, to green and yellow. Your lacerations were beginning to heal. And before, where there had been wariness, he now saw curiosity in your eyes.
“Can I ask you something?” you drew enough courage to ask.
His lips twitching to one corner, he lowered the guardrail and sat down on the edge of your bed. He gave you an expectant look. You sucked in a breath to steel yourself.
“How long have we been a…a thing?” you asked, pointing between the both of you.
Ben quirked a brow. “About a year now.”
You nodded, though your eyes were wide in surprise. You actually began to blush.
Ben smirked. He reached for the phone in his pocket and handed it over to you, after scrolling to find his photo album.
“Does that look like we don’t know each other?” he asked.
You shot him a wry glance, but you took the phone and started looking through the album. Many of the pictures that featured both of you looked like ones you’d taken, just from the angle. One picture was rather innocuous of him sitting on a couch, presumably watching TV, while you rested on his shoulder and smiled at the camera. His arm was wrapped around your waist.
Another was of you glaring at him in surprise, mid-bite on a large chili hot dog. He wore a Cheshire grin while leaning in close to your cheek.
There were several more than you flipped through, but each one made you sting with the unfamiliarity of it all. You couldn’t remember any of this, but it was undeniable what you and Ben were to each other.
Then you happened on a picture of just you, fresh out of the shower with a towel barely wrapped around you. You looked annoyed, but by the evidence of your smile, also amused that he’d surprised you with the picture.
Your blush intensified as you scrolled past that one. Then you encountered more pictures of you and him, each position filled with more bare flesh—and even more compromising than the next. You refused to press play on any of the videos.
“Oookay,” you said with a full flush heating your face and neck, and the tips of your ears. You minimized the album and all but tossed the phone back at him.
Ben’s smirk had deepened the longer he watched you peruse through the pictures. Now he chuckled and pocketed his phone.
“Like what you see, huh, sweetheart?” he couldn’t help but tease.
Frankly, you were adorable, getting all embarrassed, crossing your arms and pulling the blanket up to your neck. You shot him a look of warning.
What, you could eye him like a honey-glazed ham, flirt with him even, but you couldn’t take a little on the return side?
Ben chuckled some more and reached for your hand, to uncross your arms. You allowed it with a thinly veiled wariness. You weren’t afraid of him…anymore. But that didn’t mean there was no reason to keep your guard up around this guy.
Meanwhile, Ben actually struggled to figure out what he wanted to say to you. Something that wouldn’t put you off, or come off too strong. This was just too fucking strange…
He met your gaze with a heavy exhale.
“You’re going to be let out of here soon enough,” he said. “You don’t need to be scared of me. I’m not gonna hurt you. Matter of fact, I saved you.”
I’ve saved you more times than I can fucking count at this point, he thought wryly.
You stared back at him in contemplation. He sensed you were listening, really trying to hear him.
“You do care about me, don’t you?” you asked, almost in wonder.
Ben didn’t answer you right away. Your question took him off guard a bit, but he also found himself meeting your gaze.
“I think that’s pretty fucking obvious,” he said. You frowned at him then.
“Not entirely," you said. "Not if you don’t say it, Romeo.”
Ben stilled. Against his will, he remembered the last real words he’d said to you before this nightmare began.
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“I love you,” you’d said. He could hear your pretty smile through the phone. “Just wanted to make sure you knew that.”
“Mhmm,” Ben replied, smiling himself. “I’ll see you soon, baby doll.”
He could also hear your disappointment, there in your brief silence.
“Come on, say it,” you implored.
Ben restrained a sigh. He cast a subtle look from the corner of his eye, watching Butcher, M.M., and Kimiko loading the car with their weapons, along with the supe they’d captured. They were all too close for comfort.
“Say what?” Ben asked, feigning ignorance. Your sigh reached him, stinging him.
“You know exactly what,” you replied.
He knew what you wanted, but he still didn’t give it to you.
He didn’t allow himself.
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Now, he brushed a thumb over the back of your hand, and he sighed. Sometimes, regret weighed just as bad as guilt, even if you couldn’t admit to either one.
His gaze now slid up to yours.
“Well, I do… I care about you,” Ben said.
You’re fucking mine, his selfish heart added. He just didn’t think you’d react well to that admission.
“What do you say about coming home with me?” he asked. “I think being around all your stuff will help you…get better.”
You debated his proposition, and you realized his idea made sense. If this man was really your boyfriend, and you’d been living with him for a year…then maybe you could trust him.
Just not entirely.
“I want my mom to come too,” you said.
Ben smiled. It was a small, but true smile, and it took you by surprise. But you only felt your face getting warm again when he pressed his lips to the back of your hand. 
“Yeah, she can come help me take care of you, ‘til you’re feeling better,” he said.
You regarded him for a moment, still wondering if you could trust him. The longer you stared into his eyes, the more you found yourself relenting.  
“Okay,” you agreed. “I’ll go with you.”
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After you were finally discharged from the hospital, Ben drove you and Marie out of the city to his apartment in Scarsdale. Technically, it was your apartment too.
He promised that it had been fitted with a much better security system, now with motion cameras around the apartment, and sensors on the roof. (You didn’t know that Hughie would have to explain to Ben how all that shit worked on his phone.)
The apartment itself was familiar to you, but it felt fuzzy in your mind. Like you had a dream of being here, living a life that wasn’t yours.
Thanks to the stairs, Ben left your bags at the foot of them, before he carefully maneuvered you into his arms without pressing on any of your stitches. You sucked in a shaky breath and held onto his shoulders, squeezing your eyes tight for a moment as the movement jostled your sense of equilibrium.
“You okay?” he asked. You blinked your eyes open and met his. His brows were furrowed in concern, but it was the intensity of his eyes that stole your breath. Part of you wanted to smile, half out of nerves, but you tempered it.
“Peachy,” you replied.
His lips twitched. He then moved carefully up the stairs.
He set you back down on your feet once he reached the top, at your insistence. Marie came in from behind with her suitcase and your forearm crutch, but Ben still kept a supporting arm around your waist.
“I’ve got it,” you told him, a bit nervous and hasty to escape his hold.
He released you, and reluctantly watched you head further into the apartment on your own two feet (and crutch). You wandered into each room like you were looking for a damn portal into Narnia.
It was hard for Ben to watch you like this. With a sigh, he went back downstairs to grab the rest of your things. He set them down in the living room while you ambled off into the guest room. Marie touched his arm in comfort.
“It’ll be okay, honey,” she said.
She’d developed a soft spot for Ben not too long after meeting him. And though he’d never admitted it, the sentiment was reciprocated.
He didn’t answer her, but after a moment, he nodded. She rubbed his arm with a faint smile and went to check on you.
Marie soon found you in the office you and Ben shared. It didn’t look like he used this room often, while your desk was covered in papers and files. It did, however, smell like his cologne in here.
Or, well, the scent was masculine and woodsy—like sandalwood and spice (and a hint of weed, as evidenced from the ashtray on his desk). You had to assume the scent belonged to him, even though you didn’t think he’d worn cologne at all in the hospital. Or maybe you just inherently recognized it as his.
Huh. Smell is the strongest sense, you mused to yourself.
The thought of you remembering anything at all from what you’d lost had you the slightest bit excited, and nervous. Dr. Jeong said you’d been through a terrible trauma. The evidence of it now littered your body and had nearly broken you. So you were fairly certain that there were things you didn’t want to remember.
The touch of your mother’s hand on your shoulder had you jolting. You breathed in relief when you saw her. Her eyes widened and she held up placating hands.
“Oh! I’m sorry,” she said. “You okay?”
You nodded, though you continued to take in your surroundings with a small frown. She helped you sit in one of the office chairs, as your strength was already waning.
“It seems like everything he said was true. It’s just…it’s a lot,” you said.
“Of course it is,” said Marie. “But if it helps, you seemed very happy here. You were just glowing all night with him at the Christmas party.”
Great, yet another event that was entirely blank in your mind. If you couldn’t remember celebrating your favorite holiday, then what was the point? You huffed.
“I just find it hard to believe that I’d end up with a supe,” you admitted. You worked at Supe Affairs for God’s sake.
Marie only laughed and rubbed your back. 
“Well, you found a good one,” she said. 
A good one, huh? you shook your head in true wonder.
Now that was food for thought.
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When you first arrived, Ben had led you to the master bedroom and said it was your room. So why the fuck was he climbing into bed with you?
“Excuse me,” you frowned at him, drawing the blankets closer over your body. You only had on a large shirt over your underwear. It was how you preferred to dress for bed, and it was easier than pulling a pair of shorts over the healing scars on your legs.
Ben had on a gray shirt and some plaid pajama pants. He’d shucked off his old man loafers before making the right side of the bed dip with his weight. He raised a brow at you.
“What?” he asked.
“What do you think you’re doing?” you asked.
“Going to bed, sweetheart. Been a long fucking week,” he retorted.
“I thought this was my bed,” you said.
“It’s our bed,” he corrected. He grabbed the edge of the blanket to pull some of it towards him, but you pulled it tighter against you.
“Look,” you said flatly. “I agreed to come here and stay with you, but I didn’t agree to this kind of close quarters.”
Ben stared back at you in annoyance and willed his temper not to snap. So fucking what if he shared the bed with you? It was a California king. The odds of your bodies even touching were slim to none.
However, he saw that stubborn look in your eyes. It was all too familiar.
Christ on a cross. He forgot how goddamn difficult you were in the beginning.
And really, you two were at the beginning, all over again. He’d gotten you to trust him, slightly, but he knew the rest would take time.
Is this really fucking worth it? came an insidious thought deep inside. The selfish part that had ruled for most of his life.
Then, he spied the silver Rolex on his nightstand—the one you’d gifted him for Christmas, along with the photo album that you’d put together for him. It included the only pictures he kept of his mother, and new ones you’d made with him. They were pictures you’d collected and captured of your life together so far.
With a deep sigh, Ben wordlessly got out of bed. He grabbed up his pillow and a throw blanket that had slid to the floor, and he made his way to the living room. Marie was taking up the only guest bedroom, so he supposed he was relegated to the couch in his own home. How the fuck did that happen?
He sat down heavily in the middle of the couch and had to take some deep breaths. His head slowly fell into his hands, elbows resting on his knees. With both hands, he tried to rub the exhaustion and frustration from his face.
There were words he couldn’t say. However, within the safety of his mind, he was forced to reckon with it.
This was his fault. He knew it, down to his bones.
It was all really his fucking fault.
He should’ve gotten you a protective security detail from the beginning. He just didn’t think anyone would have the balls to…
Ben breathed past the tightness in his chest that was once again clawing at his throat. 
Well, this fucking blows like a cheap whore, he thought.
And as you might expect, he slept fitfully that night.
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The next morning, you winced at the ache in your head that was now customary for you. You had practically drowned in this giant-ass bed, but the reality was, you’d barely slept. You just couldn’t get comfortable enough to stay asleep.
You didn’t know if it was because it was an unfamiliar place, or because you now had a lower dose of pain meds than you’d been given in the hospital, or if it was because there was just something missing here.
You sighed and hauled yourself out of bed to freshen up. Really, you should’ve waited for your mother or Ben to help you out of bed, but you weren’t used to being incapacitated like this. And even when you were down, it had been ingrained in you (through your father’s special brand of “parenting”) to play through the pain.
So you grabbed your crutch from beside the bed, and somehow you managed to make it to the bathroom by yourself.
After dressing in sweatpants, a bra, and a tank top, you padded out into the hall. Your mom was still sleeping, but you found Ben in the living room.
He was sprawled out across the couch. Half the covers had slipped off his body and pooled on the floor. Again, you tried not to admire the length and broadness of his form, and the way that shirt stretched across his chest and arms.
His arm was curled across his closed eyes, but he lowered it when he heard you approaching.
His eyes were a bit red and bleary. It didn’t look like he’d slept very well either. You felt bad for that, as you leaned on the back of the couch to greet him.
“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” you teased him a little. “You slept like shit out here, didn’t you?”
“What was your first damn clue?” he groused. You had a feeling he was grumpy in the morning, regardless of how well he slept.
“Okay, I’m sorry about that,” you said. Even though you had every right to sleep alone, you still felt bad for making him sleep out here. “How about I make us some coffee?”
He nodded with a grunt. You smiled and teetered only slightly on your way to the kitchen. Ben frowned as he realized it.
“You shouldn’t be walking around like that yet,” he called after you.
He forced himself to get off the couch, rolling to his feet. You shot him a stubborn look.
“I’m fine,” you said.
Ben’s frown deepened with annoyance.
…Right. Okay, you weren’t exactly fine.
You were still exhausted. Still felt like utter crap, as stiffness pulled at your muscles and pain at your stitches and broken ribs. And, oh yes, your head was still broken.
But, this was the most mobile you’d been in a few weeks. You were determined to do at least one normal, productive thing today. Even if it was just making coffee, then you were going to count that as a win.
By the time Ben joined you, the coffee was done percolating and you handed him a mug. He took a sip before he remembered to tell you…no cream.
He looked into the mug in wonder. You’d actually made his coffee with sugar, no cream. Just like he liked it.
Noticing the look on his face, you paused.
“Oh, sorry. I forgot to ask how you take it.”
“No,” he said, sitting across from you at the breakfast bar. “It’s just right.”
You blinked in surprise, but then you shrugged and sipped at your own cup of coffee, which had both cream and sugar. While you were preoccupied with brainstorming where to order in for breakfast, Ben allowed himself to smile a little.
You were in there, somewhere.
He just needed to help you come out.
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AN: See? I promise, there's hope. 💚
(But there's also still drama ahead...)
Next Time:
“We’re not gonna have this discussion again. You need to fucking eat,” he said. “I could feed you, though I promise you’re not gonna like it.”
His surly, frowning face was annoying you. His deep voice was annoying you. His tall, ridiculous wall-of-man body in your line of vision was annoying you, clothed in a rumpled shirt and the sweatpants he’d slept in.  
Everything about him annoyed you right now.
But that could also have something to do with the pounding ache in the back of your skull, radiating forward and between your eyes.
“Bro, I’m on like, three kinds of medication,” you replied in weary irritation. “With what appetite do you expect me to eat?”
Bro? His eyebrow twitched.
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Ko-Fi Me ☕
Break Me Down Masterlist
Soldier Boy Masterlist
Main Masterlist
BMD/Series Tag List (Part 1):
@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26
@spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort
@mrsjenniferwinchester @lyarr24 @xoxovienna @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28
@nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022
@emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow
@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @theonlymaninthesky
@kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun
@lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2
@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420
@tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67 @deansbbyx
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anakinism · 2 years
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THE BOYS | 3.07 - “Here Comes a Candle to Light You to Bed”
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justjensenanddean · 9 months
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Soldier Boy (and Hughie) | The Boys, 3x07 “Here Comes a Candle to Light You to Bed”
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ex0rin · 4 months
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The Boys S03E01: Payback + BONUS:
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lila-lou · 1 month
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✨ His only exception - Pt. 17/? ✨
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, dominant Ben, soft Ben, Ben being Ben - WELL, HE´S A WARNING HIMSELF
Word Count: 5975
A/N: This is part 17 of “His only exeption”.
English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨
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As Ben rummaged through the kitchen cabinets, his stomach growling in protest, Annie approached him, her expression sympathetic.
"Having trouble finding something to eat, soldier boy?", she asked, a hint of amusement in her voice.
Ben glanced over at her, a hint of frustration evident in his tone. "Yeah, seems like this place is as fucking empty as your head".
Annie rolled her eyes at his remark. "Well, maybe if you spent less time making crude jokes and more time looking, you might actually find something".
Ben shrugged nonchalantly, continuing his search. "Whatever you say, sweetheart", he replied dismissively, his focus solely on his quest for sustenance.
As Hughie joined them in the kitchen, Ben's frustration simmered just beneath the surface, his anger still raw from the events that transpired. Ignoring the lingering tension, Hughie glanced around the cabinets curiously.
"What are you looking for?", he asked, oblivious to the underlying tension.
Ben's jaw clenched as he shot Hughie a pointed look. "Something to eat", he replied tersely, his tone sharp with irritation.
Hughie nodded, sensing Ben's agitation but choosing not to press the issue further. "Right, got it", he replied.
Annie let out an exasperated sigh, her shoulders slumping with guilt as she watched Ben rummage through the cabinets. “I still can’t believe we weren’t able to save her”, she admitted, her voice tinged with regret. “I feel like I let her down”.
Ben shot her a scathing look. “You think?”, he retorted, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Because you definitely did. Useless as always”.
Annie bristled at the insult, but before she could respond, Hughie stepped in. “Come on, man, lay off”, he interjected, his voice tense with frustration. “We’re all feeling it right now”.
“Enough of this”, Butcher growled, his tone commanding. “We need to focus on finding Homelander, not wallowing in self-pity”.
Ben's temper flared, his frustration boiling over as he stood toe-to-toe with Butcher. Without a word, he grabbed him by the hem of his shirt, his chest beginning to glow.
Butcher's eyes widened in surprise as he felt the raw power emanating from Ben's body, realizing the precariousness of the situation. "Easy there, mate", he muttered, his voice tense with caution. "Let's not do anything we'll regret".
But Ben's rage was unrelenting, his grip on Butcher tightening as he struggled to contain the explosive energy building within him. "You don't get it, do you?", he growled through clenched teeth, his voice laced with fury. "I've had enough of your bullshit!".
As the rest of the team rushed forward, pleading with Ben to calm down before he lost control, he shook them off, his eyes blazing with fury. “Back the fuck off!”, he bellowed, his voice reverberating through the room with authority.
Butcher, Annie, and Hughie exchanged worried glances, realizing the danger of provoking Ben further. Frenchie stepped forward cautiously, his hands raised in a placating gesture. “Come on, you need to chill out”, he urged. “We’re on the same side here”.
But Ben’s rage was consuming him, his chest pulsing with volatile energy as he struggled to contain it. “I said back off!”, he roared again.
As you rounded the corner, wearing just one of Ben's shirts that hung loosely on your weak and tired body, the tension in the room seemed to escalate even further. You stood there quietly, arms crossed weakly to steady yourself, your eyes fixed on Ben with a mixture of concern and apprehension.
"Ben", you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper.
As Ben caught sight of you, the anger in his eyes giving way to a flicker of concern. He fought with himself. After a moment's hesitation, he let go of Butcher with a rough tug, his focus shifting entirely to you.
"you okay?", Ben stepped towards you.
The team looked on in disbelief as they watched the scene unfold before them. It was as if you had the power to quell the raging storm within Ben with just your presence. They exchanged incredulous glances, unable to believe that you could bring him back from the brink of his anger so effortlessly.
Butcher let out a gruff sigh, rubbing the back of his neck in resignation. “Well, I’ll be damned”, he muttered under his breath.
You whispered softly, your voice barely audible above the tension-filled air. "Ben, please… come back to your room", you pleaded, your eyes filled with a mixture of fear and desperation. You were afraid that if he stayed any longer, he might explode again, and this time, it could be worse.
Ben's gaze softened as he met your eyes, the storm of anger within him gradually subsiding in the face of your quiet plea. With a nod, he took another step towards you, his movements hesitant yet determined.
As you and Ben left the team behind, retreating into the sanctuary of his room, the rest of the team remained in the kitchen, their conversation resuming in hushed tones.
“Looks like Soldier Boy’s got a soft spot after all”, he remarked.
Butcher shot him a warning glance, his brow furrowing with irritation. “Don’t be daft”, he grumbled.
Annie couldn't help but mumble something about how it seemed Soldier Boy's concern for you went beyond just wanting to get in your pants.
Butcher snorted, rolling his eyes. "Don't be naïve, Annie", he retorted. "He's still a bloke, ain't he?".
As you carefully settled back into bed, reaching for Ben's wrist as he stood beside you, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of fear creeping in. His chest was still hot, but the fiery energy seemed to have dissipated.
"Are you okay, Ben?", you asked softly, your voice tinged with apprehension.
Ben hesitated, his gaze meeting yours for a fleeting moment before he looked away. "I'm fine, (Y/N)", he muttered gruffly, his tone guarded.
You nodded, though the fear still lingered in the back of your mind. It pained Ben to see you afraid of him, but he couldn't seem to shake his ingrained behavior.
You carefully tugged on Ben’s wrist, silently signaling him to lay down beside you. He hesitated for a moment before finally relenting, easing himself onto the bed beside you.
As you settled in, you couldn’t shake the question that had been nagging at you. “Ben”, you began tentatively, “why are you so angry all the time?”.
Ben’s jaw clenched at the question, his expression darkening with a mixture of frustration and reluctance. He shifted uncomfortably, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as he wrestled with his inner turmoil.
"You wouldn't understand", he muttered gruffly.
You reached out, gently laying a hand on his warm chest. "Try me", you urged softly, your voice laced with sincerity.
Ben hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering with vulnerability before he quickly masked it with a facade of indifference. "It's complicated", he repeated, his voice tight with restraint. "Just… trust me when I say it's better if you don't know".
"I… just need you to know that I care about you".
His guarded facade began to crack as he met your gaze, his eyes softening with a hint of vulnerability. In that moment, you could see the walls he had built around himself starting to crumble.
Before you could say another word, he pushed you back onto the mattress, his lips crashing down on yours in a passionate kiss. It was as if he was seeking solace in your embrace, finding comfort in the warmth of your affection.
As the kiss deepened, a surge of raw emotion washed over both of you, enveloping you in a whirlwind of desire and longing. But just as the intensity reached its peak, you winced quietly under his weight, a twinge of pain shooting through your body.
Sensing your discomfort, Ben pulled back abruptly, his eyes filled with irritation rather than concern. “What’s wrong now?”, he snapped, his tone tinged with frustration.
You bit back a retort, knowing that arguing with him would only make things worse. “It’s nothing”, you muttered, trying to dismiss the pain.
Ben’s irritation simmered beneath the surface as he watched you struggle to hide your pain. “Nothing? Don’t give me that".
He shifted away from you, rising to his feet with a scowl etched on his face. His discomfort was evident, a bulge straining against his sweatpants as he moved.
After a few minutes, he returned, carrying some injection tools in hand.
Ben clenched his jaw as he prepared the injection, his gaze fixed on his wrist. With practiced precision, he made a small incision.
"I'll fix you up", he muttered, his voice gruff with determination as he sucked up his blood with the needle.
As Ben turned around with the needle ready, he glanced at you with a hint of impatience in his eyes. "You don't need that much for one stupid rib", he remarked bluntly, his tone laced with frustration.
"Just get it over with", you murmured.
Ben's expression softened slightly as he approached you, his movements careful as he administered the injection. "There", he said once he was done, his voice gentler now as he set the needle aside and sat down beside you. "That should ease the pain".
You sighed in relief as the pain began to subside.
You couldn’t resist teasing Ben, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. “Are you always this grumpy when you’re trying to help someone?”, you quipped, unable to resist poking fun at his stoic demeanor.
Ben rolled his eyes in response, but a small smile played at the corners of his lips. “Only when they’re as stubborn as you”, he retorted, his tone lightening as he leaned back against the bed.
As the pain began to ease, a sense of relief washed over you, gradually replacing the discomfort with a soothing sensation. You sighed softly, feeling the tension slowly melting.
Meanwhile, Ben stood up from the bed and walked over to his desk. With practiced ease, he reached for a small vial and carefully sniffed a line.
Ben brushed the white powder from his nose with a quick swipe of his hand, his gaze flickering towards you. "Ready?", he asked, his voice tinged with anticipation.
You furrowed your brow in confusion. "Ready for what?", you asked, puzzled by his sudden question.
"Ready for some fucking", he replied bluntly, his tone laced with urgency. "It's been too long for both of us".
You shifted uncomfortably, feeling a bit shy and unsure how to react to Ben's bold proposition. But before you could gather your thoughts, Ben had already stripped off his shirt, his eyes locked on yours with a heated intensity.
"Come on", he urged, his voice husky with desire as he approached the bed, his gaze never leaving yours. "Don't be shy now".
As Ben hovered closer, his breath hot against your skin, he leaned in, his voice low and seductive. "You know why I gave you my blood, don't you?", he murmured, his words sending a shiver down your spine. "To make sure you're good and ready for me".
You trembled slightly as you caught a whiff of his intoxicated scent, your mind swirling with a mix of desire and uncertainty. "Where do you even get that damn energy?", you whispered, your voice tinged with awe.
Ben smirked, his eyes glinting with mischief. "I'm a supe on coke", he replied simply.
With a brief peck on your lips, Ben ordered you to get rid of his shirt that still hung loosely on your body. "Off", he commanded.
You hesitantly complied, peeling the shirt from your body, while Ben sat back to watch you, his eyes dark with desire as he drank in the sight before him.
"Look at you, all exposed and vulnerable", he teased. "I like it".
With a deft hand, he reached over and carefully peeled off the bandage covering your rib cage, revealing the healed skin beneath. "Don't need this anymore", he remarked, tossing the bandage aside before his gaze returned to you, hungry and intense.
With a rough hand, Ben turned you onto your stomach, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "Such a pretty little thing", he murmured, his voice low and gravelly as he pulled your ass up, exposing you completely to him.
"You know what I want", he growled, his breath hot against your ear. "And you're gonna give it to me". His words made you tremble.
As he pressed your head down into the pillows, Ben's grip tightened on your hips, his touch possessive and demanding. "Don't worry, sweetheart", he whispered. "I know exactly what you can handle".
You felt a surge of nervousness coursing through you, the anticipation of what was to come sending a shiver down your spine. "Please", you whispered, your voice barely audible, "be gentle".
Ben chuckled, his breath hot against your skin. "I'll take care of you, just like I always do".
Ben pulled down his sweatpants , just enough to free his throbbing length, a sense of urgency filled the air, replacing the softness that had lingered between you for the last couple of hours. His movements were rough and deliberate, his desire palpable as he positioned himself behind you.
As he leaned his face down to your ass, his warm tongue teasing your wet folds from behind, a low moan escaped your lips. His firm grip on your ass held you in place as his saliva coated your sensitive skin, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your body.
"Oh… fuck", you moaned, the sensation of his tongue on your pussy driving you wild with desire. "Ben, that feels so good".
Ben chuckled softly against your skin, his breath hot against your flesh as he continued to tease and explore. "You like that, huh?", he murmured huskily, his voice sending tingles down your spine. "Just wait until I'm inside you".
Your breath hitched at his words, the anticipation building to an almost unbearable level as you waited for him to claim you completely.
Ben raised himself up, his swollen member poised at your entrance, he leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. "It's time for something a little more… intense".
As he pushed himself inside you with one firm but slow thrust, you gasped as your pussy stretched painfully to accommodate his girth. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and discomfort that sent shivers down your spine.
Your breath hitched as Ben filled you completely, his length buried deep inside you. His grip on your hips tightened.
"Fuck", he groaned, his voice thick with desire. "You feel so good, princess".
You moaned in response, your nails digging into the sheets as pleasure washed over you in waves.
"You're doing so well, princess", Ben praised.
Just as you began to relax into the rhythm of his thrusts, Ben pulled himself out completely, leaving you empty and wanting. Before you could protest, he pushed hard into you, causing you to fall forward onto the bed with a gasp.
"Fuck", you whimpered, the sensation overwhelming as he filled you again, his grip on your hips firm and unyielding.
As Ben's grip on your hips tightened, the pressure bordering on bruising, you felt a mixture of pain and pleasure course through you. "Ben", you gasped, your voice strained with both discomfort and desire.
But Ben only responded with a low growl, his movements becoming more relentless as he thrust into you with increasing intensity. The sensation was overwhelming, pushing you closer to the edge with each powerful movement.
As Ben pulled you up by your hair, a rough grip that sent a jolt of both pain and pleasure coursing through you, he held you still, his movements becoming more controlled.
"Don't you dare come so soon", he growled, his voice commanding.
You whimpered in response, feeling a mixture of frustration and desperation building within you as you struggled to hold back your climax.
"Tell me you want it", he demanded. "Beg for it".
You swallowed hard, feeling a surge of anticipation coursing through you. "Please", you whispered, your voice trembling with need. "Please, Ben, I need it".
"That's not good enough, princess", Ben growled. "I want to hear you scream for it".
You whimpered in response, the pressure building inside you as you clenched around him, desperate for release.
"Just a little more", Ben urged, his movements becoming more aggressive as he drove himself deeper into you. "Show me how much you want it".
You moaned loudly, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak as you surrendered to the overwhelming sensation of him filling you completely.
As Ben cupped both of your breasts with one of his large hands from behind, he continued to pull you against him by your hair.
"You like that, don't you, princess?", he murmured. "Feeling me deep inside you, taking control?".
Your mind was a fog of ecstasy, unable to form coherent thoughts as Ben's words sent shivers down your spine. The sensation of his hand on your breast, his fingers teasing and caressing, combined with the rough pull of your hair, sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
You whimpered softly as Ben sucked on your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a deliciously agonizing way. Every movement, every touch, only served to heighten the intensity of the pleasure pulsing through you.
Meanwhile, his throbbing length inside you created a delicious ache that only fueled your desire further. You were completely lost in the moment, lost in the overwhelming sensation of being completely at his mercy.
Ben pushed you back into the mattress, his commanding presence looming over you. You could feel the weight of his desire pressing down on you. His hand on your back held you firmly in place, while the other gripped your hip possessively.
"Stay still", he commanded.
You obeyed without hesitation, unable to resist the overwhelming power he held over you in that moment.
With another hard thrust, Ben pushed back inside you, his movements forceful and relentless. Your pussy throbbed with a mixture of pleasure and pain as he filled you, the intensity of his thrusts overwhelming your senses. Each movement sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, leaving you gasping for air and clinging desperately to the sheets beneath you.
"Please", you whimpered, your voice barely audible amidst the sounds of your labored breathing. "Let me come… I need it".
You hoped that if he allowed you to reach climax, he would slow down afterwards, giving you a moment to catch your breath and regain your composure. But in the heat of the moment, all you could focus on was the overwhelming desire building inside you, urging you to release.
Ben grunted in response, his grip on your hips tightening even more as he continued to thrust into you with relentless intensity. "Not yet", he growled. "I'm not done with you".
You whimpered in frustration, the ache between your legs becoming almost unbearable as you desperately tried to hold back your climax. Despite your protests, Ben showed no signs of slowing down, his movements becoming more frenzied with each passing moment.
As the pleasure built to an unbearable peak, you couldn't hold back any longer. With a loud cry, you came hard, clenching around Ben as waves of ecstasy washed over you. The sensation was overwhelming, your body trembling with the force of your release.
Ben grunted in frustration as he felt you tighten around him, the unexpected climax pushing him over the edge. With a string of curses, he came, his release flooding into you as he buried himself deep inside.
"Fuck!", he groaned, his voice laced with annoyance. "You couldn't just wait, could you?".
As his orgasm subsided, Ben's grip on you softened, but he held you still in place, his body still pressed against yours. You could feel his softened member inside you, the warmth of his release mingling with your own.
Silence hung heavy in the air as the intensity of the moment faded, leaving behind a lingering sense of intimacy and vulnerability.
Ben grumbled under his breath, his tone gruff with annoyance. "Too eager, always too fucking eager", he muttered.
You offered a weak apology, your voice barely above a whisper. "Sorry", you murmured, feeling a pang of guilt for your impatience.
With a rough shove, Ben pushed your ass down, his dick slipping out of you with a slick sound. "Stay still", he commanded, his voice sharp. "Don't want you dripping all over my sheets".
Ben grumbled as he got up, grabbing a towel and throwing it over your ass. As you carefully cleaned yourself, he walked naked to his desk, where he sniffed another line.
"You need to learn how to follow fucking orders", he snapped, his voice tinged with frustration as he turned to look at you.
You pulled up the blanket around you.
As you wrapped the blanket around yourself, you felt a surge of frustration building inside you. "I tried", you snapped back, your voice tinged with irritation. "Why didn't you just let me come?".
The question hung in the air, the tension between you and Ben palpable. You couldn't understand why he had stopped you from climaxing, especially when it seemed like that's what he wanted.
Ben's jaw clenched as he met your gaze, his expression unreadable. "Because you don't get to come until I say so", he retorted sharply.
You bristled at his words, a mixture of frustration and confusion swirling inside you. "But why?", you pressed, your voice tinged with frustration. "I don't understand".
Ben sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping with exasperation. "Because I'm in control here", he explained curtly. "And you need to learn to listen to me".
You raised a brow, unimpressed by his explanation. "Control, huh?", you scoffed, a hint of sass in your voice. "More like an ego trip".
Ben's jaw clenched at your retort, his patience wearing thin. "Watch your tone… little brat", he growled, his voice low and warning. "You're testing my patience".
You rolled your eyes at his warning, a mixture of annoyance and amusement flickering across your features. "Demanding respect doesn't mean you automatically deserve it, Soldier Boy“, you shot back, your tone defiant.
Ben tensed as he glared at you, his frustration mounting. "I said watch your tone", he insisted, his voice stern. "Don’t push me Sweetheart".
You couldn't resist teasing him, even as he walked towards you, his cock already half hard again. "What are you gonna do, Soldier Boy?", you taunted, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Punish me?".
Ben's jaw clenched further as he closed the distance between you, his gaze intense. "You're asking for it, sweetheart".
You feigned innocence, but a smirk played on your lips. You were eager to test the boundaries, to see just how far you could push him.
"I don't know what you mean, Soldier Boy", you replied innocently, though the mischief in your eyes betrayed your true intentions.
Ben's gaze narrowed at your response, a warning glinting in his eyes. "If you want to act like a big girl", he growled, his voice low and commanding, "then you'll have to take it like a big girl".
As Ben approached, you couldn't help but mumble a faint "oh oh", sensing the impending intensity of his next move. Before you could react, he grabbed you roughly by your ankles and pulled you towards the bedframe, leaving you sprawled out and vulnerable.
"You wanted to test me, sweetheart?", he taunted, a smirk playing on his lips as he loomed over you. "Let's see just how much you can handle".
Ben's commanding tone brooked no argument as he ordered you to go on your knees in front of him on the floor.
"On your knees, now", he instructed firmly, his voice leaving no room for disobedience.
You bit your lip nervously as you complied with his command, feeling your body shake slightly with anticipation.
As you knelt before him, your heart raced. With trembling hands, you reached out to take his dick, but quickly realized that one hand wasn't enough to fully grasp his size.
"Both hands", Ben commanded, his voice stern as he watched you struggle. "I want you to take it all".
You nodded nervously, realizing there was no room for hesitation. With both hands, you wrapped them around his throbbing length, feeling the weight of him in your grasp.
"Good girl", Ben murmured, his voice low and gravelly as he watched you comply with his command. "Now, show me what you can do".
You bit your lip nervously, your heart racing as you looked up at him. With a shaky breath, you began to stroke him slowly, your hands working to please him as best as you could.
The weight of him in your hand sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through you, and you tightened your grip instinctively, reveling in the power you held over him.
"Fuck, that's it", Ben groaned, his breath hitching as you stroked him. "Just like that, princess".
“Open your mouth”, Ben ordered.
You complied, parting your lips to accommodate him. As you struggled to take him in, you could feel the strain in your jaw, his girth stretching you to your limits.
As he watched you struggle to even fit his head in your mouth, Ben felt a surge of dominance and satisfaction wash over him. The sight of you, vulnerable and eager to please, fueled his desire even further. He relished in the control he had over you, reveling in the power dynamics of the moment.
Despite your struggles, Ben remained relentless, his grip on your hair firm as he guided you, urging you to take more of him. Each little whimper and gasp that escaped your lips only spurred him on, driving him closer to the edge of ecstasy.
As he felt himself growing harder in your mouth, Ben's breath hitched with anticipation. He knew he was pushing you to your limits, but he couldn't bring himself to stop. The thrill of dominance, coupled with the raw intensity of the moment, left him intoxicated with desire.
Each attempt to accommodate him was met with resistance, and you could feel the frustration mounting within you.
"Come on, (Y/N)", Ben urged, his voice tinged with impatience. "You can do better than that. Take it all".
You whimpered in response, feeling the pressure to please him weighing heavily on your shoulders. With a determined effort, you pushed yourself to take more of him, desperate to satisfy his demands.
But no matter how hard you tried, it seemed impossible to take him all in, and with each failed attempt, Ben's impatience only grew.
Ben's grip tightened on your hair, his fingers digging into your scalp as he forced you to take more of him. His tone grew more commanding and authoritative with each passing moment, a mixture of desire and frustration evident in his voice.
"I said all of it", he growled.
Drool ran down your burning lip corners as he pushed your head forcefully forwards, the pressure on your jaw becoming almost unbearable. You struggled to comply with his demands, feeling the strain on your neck and the taste of salt and musk filling your senses.
But despite the discomfort, you were determined to please him, your desperation driving you to push yourself further.
As Ben bucked his hips, his dick shoving down your throat painfully, you gagged involuntarily, the sensation overwhelming. Despite your discomfort, he didn't relent, his grip on your hair tightening as he pushed himself deeper into your mouth.
He groaned in pleasure as you struggled to accommodate him, the sound sending vibrations coursing through his length. "That's it", he muttered, his voice strained with desire. "Take it all".
You whimpered around him, the need for air becoming desperate as he continued to push you beyond your limits. But he didn't let up, his determination driving him to seek his own pleasure at any cost.
You gasped for air as he finally released his hold on you, your throat raw and burning from the force of his thrusts. Despite the pain, you couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at having pleased him, even if it came at your own expense.
Thinking he had relented, Ben suddenly pushed himself back inside your mouth and down your throat even harder, burying his dick nearly completely inside you. Your hands instinctively pushed against his thighs in a desperate attempt to free yourself, but his grip on your hair tightened, preventing any escape.
You struggled to breathe, your chest heaving with the effort as he forced himself deeper into your throat. Tears welled up in your eyes as you fought against the overwhelming pressure, your body shaking with the strain.
"Your big mouth should be good for something", Ben insisted, his voice rough with desire as he continued to use you for his own pleasure.
You whimpered in protest, the pain and lack of oxygen leaving you feeling dizzy and disoriented.
As Ben began to move, thrusting his hips forward with increasing urgency, you struggled to keep up, the pressure building in your throat making it difficult to breathe.
With each forceful thrust, Ben's movements became more frenzied, his arousal reaching its peak as he gazed down at you, small and vulnerable beneath him. The sight of you, tears streaming down your cheeks, only served to heighten his pleasure.
As he neared his climax, he growled in satisfaction. "You're such a good little cocksucker".
Your cheeks were wet with tears, the pain in your head intensifying from his strong grip on your hair. You could feel his release building, the pressure in your throat unbearable as he thrust into you with increasing urgency.
As Ben reached his peak, he thrust into you with one final, forceful motion, pushing your head right to his pelvis. Your throat burned as he spilled his hot seed inside, the sensation overwhelming as you struggled to breathe. It felt like you were choking, your body tensing with the instinct to pull away, but his grip on your hair held you in place, leaving you helpless and at his mercy.
Through gritted teeth, Ben cursed as he released, his voice hoarse with desire. "Swallow it all", he commanded, as he emptied himself into your mouth.
As you struggled to catch your breath, coughing and sputtering, a bit of his cum dripped down your lips. Before you could wipe it away, Ben's thumb gathered it up quickly and roughly, shoving it back into your mouth.
"None of that", he grunted, his tone stern as he forced you to swallow every last drop.
As you swallowed, still recovering from the ordeal, you coughed lightly, holding your throat. But before you could gather yourself, Ben pushed you back down, opening your mouth by gripping your jaw and pushing his now slightly softer dick inside.
"Clean it", he ordered gruffly.
Your hands shook uncontrollably as you steadied yourself by gripping his thighs, your tongue timidly lapping at his softening member.
Despite your trembling hands and the soreness in your throat, you continued to obediently clean him with your tongue, your movements slow and hesitant. The taste of his salty release lingered on your tongue.
Ben watched you, his grip on your jaw tightened slightly, reminding you of your place beneath him.
"Good girl", he murmured. "Keep going until you've cleaned every last drop".
He leaned back slightly, enjoying the sensation of your tongue against his skin.
After a moment, he let out a satisfied sigh. "That's enough".
You pulled back, relief flooding through you as you took a deep breath. Though your body still trembled from the intensity, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at having pleased him.
"You did well", Ben praised, his voice carrying a hint of approval.
"You know, this rough stuff? It's not quite my thing".
Ben chuckled in response, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "You don't know what your thing is yet", he retorted, his tone teasing.
You bristled at his comment, feeling a surge of irritation rising within you. "Well, I know what it's not", you shot back, your voice firm.
Ben leaned closer, his gaze intense as he locked eyes with you. “Sometimes, princess, you’ve got to step out of your comfort zone”, he urged, his voice low and persuasive.
You shook your head, your resolve unwavering. "I won't like it", you insisted, your voice firm.
Ben's smirk only widened, a knowing glint in his eyes. "You say that now", he said cryptically, "but I know you'll be craving it soon enough".
You shook your head adamantly, determined to make your point clear. "Absolutely not", you stated firmly, brushing over your mouth with the back of your wrist.
Ben's smirk didn't falter, his gaze unwavering. "Alright, noted", he replied nonchalantly, though there was a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.
Ben nodded, his smirk deepening into a knowing grin. "We'll see about that", he teased, his tone laced with anticipation. "I'll be waiting for the moment you come crawling back, begging for more".
You let out a weary sigh, exhaustion settling in your bones. "I'm tired", you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.
Ben's eyes gleamed as he observed your vulnerability. "I love it when you're like this", he admitted. "It reminds me of just how much you need me".
You rolled your eyes at him, unable to suppress a whimper as he effortlessly lifted you up onto his hips. Clinging onto him for support, you felt a rush of excitement and apprehension as he carried you over to his desk and settled into his chair, still holding you securely in his grasp.
As Ben rolled a joint on his desk, you remained naked on his lap, pressed against his body, your face buried in his chest, inhaling the scent of his cologne. You couldn't help but feel a sense of intimacy in this moment, despite the roughness earlier.
"You alright, sweetheart?", Ben asked, his voice now soft as he gently stroked your hair.
Your throat ached so much that you couldn't muster any words. Instead, you nodded tiredly, pressing yourself tighter against him, seeking comfort in his warmth. The gentle rhythm of his chest rising and falling beneath you was oddly soothing, despite the soreness that permeated your body.
As Ben lit up his joint, the pungent scent of cannabis filled the air, mingling with the musky aroma of sex. With one arm wrapped around your naked body, he gently stroked your thigh, his touch surprisingly tender against your skin.
"Just relax now, okay?", he murmured, his voice soft and soothing.
As Ben spoke, he noticed your breathing had become steady and even, a telltale sign that you had drifted off to sleep in his arms. He smiled softly, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him as he held you close.
"Sleep tight, princess", he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head before leaning back in his chair, content to watch over you as you slept.
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A/N: Well, that's a lot. Many different emotions and behaviors... Please let me know what you think.🥰
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Part 18
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