#soldier boy the boys
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PROTECT ME FROM WHAT I WANT
Summary: You're working with Butcher and his team since your sister has died in a plane crash caused by Homelander and months later, you met Soldier Boy. Drown between hatred and your desire to have your vengence, you have to face your feelings for Soldier Boy eventually.
Pairing: Soldier Boy / Female!Reader
Warnings: Angst, Hurt, Language, Soldier Boy being an asshole, grief, family issues, mention of death, cursing, mention of drugs, unrequited love
Word Count: 2113
A/N: English is not my first language. *We die like men*
Chapter 1: Don’t try to fight the storm, you’ll tumble overboard
Its been a year since the greatest supe ever known of America has woken from his 40 years of sleep and it did not even took a big amount of time your thoughts to revolve around him only. Oppressed with grief, your life was consuming you inside since your sister has died in a plane crash caused by Homelander. It changed many things. It made Butcher and his team to found you, turned you into something you couldn't name it anymore. Each passing day was the same. You were and all alone with despair when darkness took over the daylight; you knew you did not even mourn properly for your sister. What's worse was that you had a fought just before the flight. Funny, that was the only time you two had a fight in twenty three years and it was over for nothing. Time heals, they say. They are all wrong. It won't heal a shit till it kills and throws you away with one last heavy strike.
The day you rescued Soldier Boy was definitely a hard day to forget. He looked like an unleashed savage confused animal freed from a cage. Actually, he was literally something like that. Ben was so hard to control. Besides, the worst thing about himself was not his character; it was his erratic nuclear muscled chest ready to blow up anytime. It was a hidden menace under his thick skin.
At first, you weren't so sure if Homelander or Ben was worse. Probably both were pure supe evils in their own unique way. After all, intentionally or unintentionally, they both hurt many people.
All things aside, at least you were certain about one thing you truly craved for. The only thing. Homelander must die.
Walking on tiptoe, your heart was beating fast and it was not the first time. Your palm was sweaty around the pistol and your knuckles probably turned white. No need to be humble, you were a good shooter, a very good one, but you weren't sure if you could aim right to the eyes of the supe you were looking for when the right time comes. Ben gave you the big eye, almost chuckled. You knew his senses as a supe were highly developed and that made things embarrassing for you. In addition, the house being so silent and dark was another problem.
You did not know when that all these things started; when he made you feel such things. Maybe it was just a silly and temporary crush to disappear sooner or later. However, as time passed, the way you react around him just grew irrevocably stronger. It was getting out of hand or already did. You hated that feeling, but loved it, also despised it and obsessed with it. He was hard to ignore in every way, especially when he was that heart wrenchingly handsome.
“Hey,” he said mockinly. “Why so excited suddenly?”
You were both grateful and angry to Butcher for leaving you alone with Ben in such a place like this. You were chosen to work with Ben most of time since he broke Hughie's arm, got a fight with Annie, Frenchie and threw Butcher to the tree,-lucky of him he was on Compound V- so, no one wanted to spend a single second with him. Especially Hughie was scared as fuck of him.
The only one who did not have a fight with Ben was Kimiko as she never said a word at all that could make him mad in any way. Though you knew Kimiko was even more savage talking to Ben with sign language, you never dared or needed to translate her words directly.
Checking around nervously you took a deep breath. “I am not excited.”
“Don't worry, it's not a big deal,” he continued ignoring what you've just said. “I am used to such things.”
“What things?”
“You know,” he sighed. “Knowing that the strongest supe in the world with you right now in this house and all alone got you wet. I’m sure your clit is flickring with such exciment you might cum any moment..”
Judging by the look on his face as he went on acting his fingers obcenely and not stopping talking in an unappropiate way, he was amused. You just wanted to shut his voice completely down. He was not familiar with embarrassment at all. Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes waiting for him to finish his pornographic ted talk.
Taking back some steps from him “Have you totally lost your mind? Every single thing you say is so gross and nasty,” you finally said. “You're so delusional you should have been an author.”
It wasn't the first time he teased you. His choice of words was getting more obscene each time even though you never took them seriously. The things he said caused pathetic butterflies to punch your stomach hard. But you knew Ben was being like this to everyone. It was in his nature after all.
“Say delusional one more time and see what happens.” His sharpened eyes were fixed on you.
Fuck Butcher.
“Ben,” you whispered nervously. You got closer to him and touched his chest hesitantly.It would be a terrible idea to get on Ben's sensitive nerves. It would be easier if Butcher was there. “Are you on coke?”
“Course I am.”
Pushing your hands away from his chest with a rough move, Ben looked around cautiously searching for any sign of the supe.
You followed his footsteps. “Do you hear anything?”
“No.”
Stopping for a moment, you sighed. You did not want to push his buttons any further. “Is it true that this Supe can play with memories? Does she change them? Like mind control?”
“Worse.”
You felt his posture suddenly got serious.
“How?”
“The slut has a strange talent that can make you see stupid things, things you desire the most. They’re all fake and all made up stuff. Total bullshit.”
“What happens if you see them though?”
“It’s impossible to wake up if you are a little pussy. You'd trap like a rat driven by pathetic fake scenarios just because your little brain is a weak shithole and you’re just too scared to face the reality. That’s it."
The way he sounded made you even more curious.
“You sound like you experienced it,” you said raising your eyebrows.
Judging by the way sounded, you were sure he experienced every single thing he mentioned. But what could be Soldier Boy's nightmare or dream? You were dying to know what he desired the most. What on earth would be his dream? He always looked so confident and sure of himself, it was like there would be nothing in the world he would ever desire. Of course It would be Crimson Cuntess. Remembering the way he looked at her with disappointment made your stomach crumble in pain and despair.
“Absolutely nothing,” he insisted. “Only pussies desire things they can't get, right? I am smart and I can get whatever I want, sweetheart.”
“I thought it would be Crimson Countess,” you murmered hoping he would not get mad. You needed him to deny it so bad.
Looking at him with pleading eyes and waiting patiently, he looked genuinely lost in thoughts for a moment.
“Jealous?”
Looking away, you said “Why on earth would I be jealous?” You would make him believe you easily if you did not sound that needy and wasn't flushed. You could never be completely honest with him. How could you?
Putting his left hand on your chin sofly, he murmured. “You’re so obvious.. Do you really think I’m not aware the way you look at me?”
With a heavy heart, you looked up at him with beseeching eyes.
“I dont understand what you mean at all.”
“You do,” he insisted indifferently. “I know, you wish you were her, I know you’re so envious of her that you would even let me fuck you as I like it if I made a move, right?” he paused and snickered. Your heartbeat skipped at his harsh words.
You made a move to get away from him, but his grip on your chin tightened hard enough to hurt, so you stopped moving surrending his cruelty for a moment to catch your breath and let him do whatever he had on his mind.
Despite his roughness, you put your hand on his daring one softly, savoring his touch unintentionally as you try to push him away with helpless and meaningless attempts, hoping to show your affection for him. He didn’t make a move. Getting even closer, his broad chest touched yours ungently. Ben curled his lips into a mischievous smile and lowered his hand to where your heart is. When you felt his forearm touched your nipple, you gasped for breath and struggled determinedly not to melt into his warm touch.
Knowing his hand could easily rip your heart from your chest in a second should have been enough to take him out from your heart and mind right there, but it was always easier to blame destiny and the others for what happened and is about to happen. Moreover, him being that dominant, confident and powerful made your stomach curl in excitement.
“You’re wrong, Ben,” you denied.
You were angry at yourself for being like this, feeling that way. Between all things..your sister and everything happened in the last few months, you let your thoughts to be driven into something you should stay away from in the very first place. Coming to your senses and accepting the truth about yourself hurt more than Ben’s words. You could never be at his level, but you let your fantasies to took over your logic.
As you struggled not melting into his touch, you tried harder to get away from him and hoping it convince him, you mumbled “You’re hurting me.”
His grasp was indeed firm, but it did not hurt at all. You just wanted to save yourself from intensity of his seductive presence since you did not know if you could resist this irresistible pull one more minute.
He pulled away his hands on you, but remained still.
“How you fucking normals can endure being that weak, huh? You know I could kill you without even using half my strength, right? It must be taking a great energy and luck to survive.” he said mockingly.
You wanted to say he was nothing without Compound V in his veins, that he wasn’t naturally the strongest, but a made up product. However, it wouldn’t be smart at all to say such thing. Supes were not known with reasonable conversations and handling criticism. Maybe, Supes were physically the strongest breed whose emotional and narcissistic fragility suppressed under their thick skin. And Ben’s short temper wasn’t something you’d want to face with.
You both jumped when a noise coming from the second floor filled the house. Ben’s eyes were down. He was probably nervous considering potentially to being put in long sleep by the Supe. Unlike Ben, you took a step right to the stairs, tightning your grasp on the pistol and holding your breath.
“Be fucking slow,” he warned you, but it was more like he meant to threaten you.
You turned to him and whispered “Hey, who’s being a pussy right now?”
“Don’t fucking provoke me.”
“Hey,” you gave him a playful wink. “I’ll always protect you.”
Just before he say something, you’ve seen the Supe’s dark figure behind Ben. Your eyes fixed on each other. His body tensed with anger as his patience grew thin. He was about to lose his temper knowing he should kill her without meeting the eye of the fucking bitch. He simply just did not know how to do. Before he turned around, you shot at the darkness randomly, trying to stir panic in the supe. Darkness of the room was in your favor until you met the heinous eyes of the supe just before Ben caught and slammed her on the floor with a furious growling.
A/N: I'm not built for this.
#soldier boy#soldier boy x reader#the boys series#jensen ackles#the boys#the boys tv#jensen ackles soldier boy#the boys season 3#soldier boy the boys#the boys amazon#soldier boy x y/n#soldier boy fanfiction#soldier boy x you#soldier boy x female reader#jensen ackles the boys#the boys soldier boy
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→ Hot Under The Helmet.
gif credit
pairing: soldier boy/ben x wife!reader.
rating: explicit.
warning: ben's pov, horny and angry ben, dom/sub undertones, aggressive sex, piv, fingering, oral (female receiving), breeding kink, glove kink, eventual fluff, antiquated mentality...
word count: 2.2k
summary: fucking his wife is the best way to ease his mind.
taglist: @zepskies, @deansbbyx, @kaleldobrev, @k-slla, @deanbrainrotwritings, @deans-spinster-witch, @homosexualferret...
→ masterlist | ao3
Soldier Boy didn't head back to his quarters in Vought's tower when the damned mission was over. He didn't want to spend another minute with his pathetic excuse of a fucking team nor did he want to be in the tower. He scoffed. A bunch of fucking clowns in a fucking circus. Sometimes he wondered if Vought picked them on purpose for the sake of insulting him and his legacy.
Instead, Soldier Boy made his way straight back home. He'd been on duty for a couple of weeks, accompanied with his teammates and other government soldiers as a backup to their mission — not that he needed either but protocols and marketing and Vought's bullshit.
Long story short, and as expected, The Twins fucked up, Noir tried to be the hero of the day, Swatto a fucking idiot, Mind Storm and Gunpowder fucking useless, Countess a fucking bitch. He had to handle it all by himself and fix everything his teammates dicked with. And he was pissed. Fuming. Raging. All he was seeing was red. And he could do nothing about it.
When Vought promised him a team to lead, he expected to have seasoned soldiers who knew how shit was done. Warriors who respected the missions and honoured their duty and privileged their country. Instead, he got fucking spoiled children to babysit. He wasn't in charge. The irony. His fucking helmet of forty years of dedication and service for this country granted him no say at the matter. It was fine, he'd tried to convince himself. He took it upon himself to train them and mould them into formidable soldiers like he was but to no avail. The fucking idiots thought the job was only to wave their hands and pose for fucking cameras at movie premieres!
Soldier Boy grumbled when he stepped inside one of his many properties. The one he shared with his wife. Their penthouse; their home. His pretty, little wife. He let a small smile slip into his lips when a mix of aromatic whiffs permeated his nostrils, his superhuman sense of smell enhanced the savoury scent. His stomach grumbled. Fuck did he really miss his wife's delicious cooking. Suddenly, his fury began to cease. Soldier Boy clicked his helmet off of his head absent-mindedly and set his shield aside before his lips quirked into a wicked grin.
It'd been a fucking fortnight since he saw her. Touched her. Fucked her. He was surrounded by dicks for far too long, and he craved pussy. Her pussy. He was consumed by the urge of destroying her cunt. And she'd love it. She'd always had. She liked it rough. She liked him ruining her, and leaving her unable to sit right for days. And she even dared to chide him when he went easy on her at the beginning of their relationship.
“I'm not fucking fragile, Ben. Don't you hold back.” She'd told him.
He smirked. She had no idea what he had in store for her tonight.
With many many years of experience under his belt, Soldier Boy stealthed his way to the kitchen where his wife was swaying her hips and humming a song as she bent over to check on the ribs she was roasting in the oven. Ben smiled proudly. He never let her do that job. The grilling. It was a man's job, the husband's job. So, to accommodate his wishes, she came up with this idea. To cook that kinda food in other ways. And being the expert cook she was, she did it extraordinarily.
His dulled eyes came to life with a lick of lust swirling within the green of his eyes when he traced the curve of her perfect ass. Fuck, his trousers began to feel too tight to his liking. Little did she know that she had a stirred brute standing behind her, waiting for the right moment to pounce on his prey.
Turning on her heels gracefully, a surprised gasp escaped her throat when her dilated eyes landed on her beloved husband. He was still in his supe gear except for his helmet and shield.
“Ben!” She trilled with a big smile, trying to balance herself from the surprise; he was hours early, “Welcome back, honey! Didn't think you'd be early—”
He cut her off with a burning kiss. Hungry and possessive. How he could cross the kitchen to her in such agility was still behind her. He smelled like earth and dust, blood and sweat. He smelled like a man should. Like a soldier should. Her core throbbed at his virile odour. His stubble grew bigger, and she liked how it brushed coarsely against her palms when she cupped his cheeks to kiss him back. She giggled against his mouth when his strong hands grasped her waist and lifted her up effortlessly and sat her at the countertop.
She clung to his neck, their kiss nourishing with vigour. His lips left hers temporarily to loosen her apron and toss it aside, then he removed her blouse and unclasped her bra. Ben crushed her lips again, his rough-padded hands kneading her tits, thumbs aggressively flicking her hardening nipples. His thumbnails grazing crescents on her darkening areolas. Ben's lips split mischievously when she let a wanton moan. His grin widened when the smell of her arousal reached his nose. Fuck. He loved it. He could already taste that on his tongue.
“Fuck, Ben!” She groaned when one of his hands trailed down to her shorts and slipped beneath her panties. He smirked when she instantly smeared his fingertips wet with her arousal. He let his gloves on; he knew she loved it when his gloved fingers fucked her relentlessly. She liked it when they were knuckles-deep inside of her, with the rims of his fingerless gloves grazing her clit. The little slut. She also liked when he fucked her in his supe suit. She took pleasure in submitting to his power. To him. He was a man worth submitting to after all, and he'd earned hers.
“Hmh, those fourteen days were rough on you, weren't they, baby girl?” He mocked, thick fingers spreading her folds open roughly. He loved to tease her and turn her into a mess. He relished in it.
She nodded hastily. It took a measured press of his thumb on her clit to turn her into putty in his hand. “Use your words, baby.”
“Y-Yes, Sir,” She whined, legs parting wider for him, “They were brutal.” She sobbed, burying her face in his powerful neck when he twisted his finger just right, her ankle snapped. He added another finger and she mewled.
“Ben, Ben! Sir, please!” She shrieked in delight, hands clutching at his gear. She gushed on his fingers and he fucked her through her high. He felt the tremble of legs. He was going to force another one from her. She should have asked for permission. She wasn't in control. He was.
She gasped when he didn't stop, “Ben, please don't—!” She squeezed her thighs shut, an attempt to cease the searing pleasure between her legs. His fingers were raw against her flesh. It brought tears to her eyes.
“Now you want me to stop?” He sneered with a drawl, curling a finger inside, her walls tightened in response. “Your pretty pussy doesn't.”
Her teeth sank into her lower lip, before she gazed up at him through half-hooded eyes, moaning, “Don't stop!”
Fuck, that shouldn't have surprised him. But it did. Fuck. She was really a slut. His pretty slut. She was practically inviting him to break her. Oh, he would. Deliciously so.
She squealed when he coaxed another orgasm from her. Begging him to fuck her more like a bitch in a heat.
“Holy fuck, baby, your pussy is squeezing my fingers tight!” He chuckled maliciously as he curled his knuckles again then pulled out.
With pearlescent tears adorning her eyes, she took his thumb into her mouth when he pressed it to her lips. Fuck, the way she twirled her tongue around his digit made him half-tempted to fuck her throat. He could do that later. Now, all he wanted was to fuck that needy, slutty pussy raw.
Ben shifted her up and flipped her on her stomach, her hot breasts squeezing against the cold marble. Shoving her shorts and panties down, he took in the sight of her ruined pussy. She was soaking, her arousal oozed from her opening down to her thighs in small rivulets. Unabashedly inviting him to feast on it. And how could he reject such an invitation? In a moment, he was on his knees, mouth wrapped around her slit, sipping from the sweet honey she had to offer. Seemed the act surprised her as she jerked in stupor with a squawk.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Her knuckles went white when she grabbed on the edges of the countertop as he ate her out like a man starved.
The new gruff hairs on his face burned deliciously against her skin as his tongue flicked assiduously against her swollen clit. He lapped her heat with a flattened tongue before invading her sensitive drawers, slurping her through the mess of her dew and his spit.
“Ben…I'm cumming again!” She tried to utter, but all that came out of her mouth was a broken whisper.
Smirking again, he unbridled the wonders his tongue could do, and she was undone again; his soddend beard was a proof of what he could do to her.
He licked her clean, and her overstimulated cunt shivered every time his tongue made contact with her flesh. She was trying to catch her breath up there, but he couldn't let her. He wasn't done with her yet. He had yet to be satisfied.
He heard her hum as she turned her face to make eye contact with him. A satiated look in her eyes as she smiled weakly at him.
“Ain't fair tho,” She croaked playfully.
He raised an eyebrow, “Hmm?”
Supporting herself with her arms, she managed to turn her body to face him, eyes immediately perching on the conspicuous bulge between his legs before her teeth dragged her lower lip inside her mouth.
“I'm naked, you're not.” Her hands trailed from his chest down to his zipper.
“Thought you liked me fucking you in this shit.” He drawled thickly as her nimble fingers undid his pants and freed his cock.
“God, you're so hard,” She giggled gleefully, “I do,” Her eyes flitted up to his face, “I like what kinda authority this suit holds. It's like fucking a god.”
His dick twitched painfully at her words. She was so good at this. He liked that about her. How she could tickle and caress his massive ego so easily. How good she made him feel so damn good about himself though he'd never admit that out loud. A god she wanted to fuck, then a god she would fuck.
His large hand roughly seized her jaws, her yelp was swallowed by his mouth. His dick was too eager to feel the warmth and wetness of her cunt as he plunged it inside of her.
“Oh, God!” She sang, her arms encircling his neck as he snapped his hips into her. Her hands fisted his short hair.
“No god, only me.” He groaned.
She cried his name as he bottomed out, he was fucking every ounce of anger out of his system on her. And she liked it. Her walls sucked him deeply, wanting more, and more he gave her.
He grumbled, “Gonna put a baby in you.” He wasn't asking. He was telling.
“Yes, Yes! Please make me a mommy!” Pride sprouted in his chest, and the immense feeling bolted down his spine and made his cock spring his load into her.
He didn't pull out right away, he waited for a few minutes. He didn't want his seed to spill out of her as much as appealing that would be to watch.
“You okay?” He asked her with concern.
“A bit thirsty, but I'm aces,” She blinked, sighing dreamily, “That was fucking sexy by the way.
He chuckled amusedly, reaching for the pot of water next to them and pouring her a glass, “The part you called me a god?”
She rolled her eyes as she gobbled down the water.
He arched his brow before whispering into her ear, “Roll your eyes at me like that again and I won't be letting you cum for a month.”
She choked on the water and he laughed deeply at her reddened face.
Suddenly, he became aware of the burning smell coming from the oven. She picked up on him sniffing and they looked at each other and say in unison, “The ribs!”
Her quiver didn't go unnoticed when he pulled out of her to let her check on the food cooking in the oven while he adjusted his clothes. He appreciated her nakedness in the kitchen, maybe he should ask her to wear nothing but an apron when she cooked. She'd look fucking sexy. His cock twitched at the idea.
His wife groaned in disappointment when she saw the ribs.
“Is it bad?” He asked, crouching next to her.
“It's way crispier than I intended.” A hand pressed to her forehead.
“I can handle crispier.”
“But, Ben, I wanted it to be perfect for you,” She whimpered and he smiled, “I know how much you like it.”
“Well, in your defence, happened when you were pretty busy serving me desserts before the main dish,” He winked.
She shook her head with a smile, “Y'know, you're surprisingly cheeky sometimes.”
“With you, I am.”
#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy x you#the boys#soldier boy x female reader#soldier boy imagine#soldier boy smut#soldier boy fanfiction#soldier boy x y/n#soldier boy#soldier boy fic#soldier boy/ben#soldier boy the boys#soldier boy/ben x reader#the boys amazon#the boys smut
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She's Out To Please, She Pouts Her Best (Soldier Boy x Reader)
Summary: Soldier Boy’s been pulled from the European Theater to sell war bonds to the American people, the goodwill tour dotted by big cities and small towns alike. In the meantime, he gets familiar with the variety of women in dazzling costumes that accompany his speeches with carefully choreographed dances. You’re, without a doubt, his favorite of them all.
Note: Female (blink and you’ll miss it implied plus size) reader, but no other descriptors are used. This fic is so short because it’s pretty much PWP. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.
Word count: 2k
Warnings: Dressing room sex, mirrors, breeding kink, daddy kink, power imbalance, overstimulation, implied baby trapping. Do not interact if you’re under 18.
Chattering from the packed high school auditorium somehow seeped through the walls. The rural town that was the latest stop in Soldier Boy’s war bond drive had shown up en masse out of patriotism or sheer curiosity. Usually both. Electricity was always in the air before the show in small towns. Some of them didn’t even have movie theaters.
You and the other dancers on the tour had set up camp in one of the bigger classrooms, using it to get ready in since it was near one of the bathrooms. Dresses, sequins, and makeup scattered about the room, making the place of learning look like a department store had exploded inside. You’d been helping another girl with the curlers in her hair until a masculine voice called out your name from the doorway.
“Soldier Boy wants to see you in his dressing room.”
You nodded, giving an apologetic look to your colleague, who waved you off. It wasn’t unusual for Soldier Boy to call on one of you to help him “warm up” before the shows. Lately, however, he’d almost exclusively been asking for you, to the detriment of your jaw.
Grabbing a nearby tube of red lipstick, you hastily applied it in the illuminated mirror in front of you. The lipstick residue soon adorned a tissue that you discarded, and you used your fingertips to gently massage the muscles in your face in preparation for taking him again. You hoped you’d at least get to come this time.
A flyer had gotten you to this point, stark white with patriotic motifs, pinned to a board in the nightclub you had been working in prior to getting the gig. Uncle Sam declared, “Ladies, you can serve your country too!” You figured why not, there was a war on, and if you could do something to help, you might as well.
Your qualifications led you to your local USO office, where you were handed a star-spangled outfit and joined a gaggle of other girls to be the supporting act on Soldier Boy’s war bonds tour across the country. At times, you felt silly, kicking and shimmying to audiences who were clearly only putting up with the opener just to catch a glimpse at the world’s first superhero. A man larger than life in every sense of the word, as you and your fellow dancers on the tour would learn.
Wandering the hallway, you checked each door for an indication of which commandeered classroom was his. Not one for subtlety, his dressing rooms always had ‘SOLDIER BOY’ printed in large letters, declaring his presence. You found the sign toward the end of the hall, giving a smile to the usual group of people who congregated around him, assistants and handlers to keep him on schedule.
You knocked on the door, announcing your arrival.
“You wanted to see me, sir?” you asked when he opened the door.
He smiled, putting his hand on your lower back as he ushered you inside. “Sure did, sweetheart.”
His dressing room always betrayed his vices—alcohol, drugs, porno mags. It didn’t faze you anymore, not like the first time he asked for you, a stuttering mess in his presence. Back then, you had to take a shot with him to settle your nerves enough to blow him without feeling too self-conscious. Now, it was routine. You moved to get on your knees, but he stopped you, to your confusion.
Instead, he disarmed you with a passionate kiss that nearly knocked you over. You steadied yourself on his strong arms that had made their home near your hips. He squeezed them, pulling you closer so your body was flush against his as he slipped his tongue into your mouth.
You let him take the lead, he always did—strong, masculine, hard-working. Wasn’t America lucky its hero was easy on the eyes too? Except he had a temper, a mean streak that could go for miles. Not that you’d ever been on the receiving end of it. No, for all his faults, you seemed to get the best of Soldier Boy.
“I’ve been thinking about you,” he whispered against your lips.
“You have?”
“Don’t sound so surprised. You’re—“ he paused, searching for the word he wanted to use, “special to me.”
You weren’t sure why he was laying it on so thick. It wasn’t your first rodeo with him. “Special?”
“‘Course you are. You wouldn't be here if you weren’t,” he said. “I wanna try something different today, alright, doll?”
“Alright,” you agreed softly.
He smiled. “That’s my girl.”
Your body came alive at his praise, and you pressed your lips to his for another kiss. He guided your body backward until you bumped into the vanity. Parting his lips from yours, he turned you around, bending you over it so you were face to face with yourself in the mirror.
You looked at him from the reflection, brows furrowed as you wondered what he was doing.
He leaned down, voice husky in your ear as he growled, “I want you to see how pretty you look when you come.”
Your eyes widened, and you grabbed either side of the vanity in preparation, to his amusement. He pressed a kiss to the back of your neck as he pushed up your shimmery skirt, exposing your red, satin panties, specially made to be on display. Soon, your panties were around your heeled feet, one of his hands reaching to play with your clit while the other squeezed one of your breasts through your top.
“We look good together, don’t you think, sweetheart?” he asked, intense gaze studying your reactions.
“Y-Yes,” you moaned, trying to keep your eyes open.
He always wanted you to look at him. From your knees when you were sucking him off, when he’d be standing on the side of the stage during your act, in his hotel rooms when he couldn’t find local girls to fuck around with. This instance was different, though, able to really see him, and yourself. You didn’t find your glassy gaze or parted lips particularly flattering, but he couldn’t seem to get enough.
His fingers had already brought you close to climax, and you whined when he pulled them away from you for a moment to free his hard cock from his pants. You shuddered, feeling it on your skin before he guided it in your pussy. Your hands curled around the vanity you were bracing yourself on. You weren’t sure if you’d get used to how his cock seemed to split you apart every time.
One of his arms wrapped just below your chest to hold you up, as you struggled to support yourself when he started pounding into you. Your pussy was already wet and pliant for him, and you'd be embarrassed by the obscene squelching sounds if you weren't so focused on getting off when he had brought you so close to the edge already.
You were your own voyeur, your brain feeling like it was going to melt, watching yourself getting fucked by him. His superhuman strength always caught you off guard, from the first time he shocked you by lifting you above his head on stage for a roaring crowd to the way he could make your body feel—and look—like you were little more than a ragdoll.
“Gonna put a baby in you,” he grunted as he thrust into you, items falling from the vanity and onto the floor at the force he used to fuck you. “Want you up on that stage with my cum leaking out every time you kick up those legs—fuck—you’re mine.”
Your pussy clenched around him at the vulgar image he conjured up. “Yours daddy.”
His voice was strained, words slurring together. He was close. “‘S right, baby. Keep fuckin’ you ‘till you make me one. You like takin’ daddy’s dick, don’t you?”
You had to force the short affirmation out of your mouth, pleasure’s chokehold creeping up on you. That wasn’t enough for him or his ego.
“I wanna hear you say it.”
“I love taking—oh fuck—taking your dick, daddy.”
He came, hard and sloppy as your pussy milked his cock. You cried out, feeling so full it almost started to hurt. Something in you finally snapped, releasing the pain and pressure as you rode out your orgasm on his softening cock. Your arms gave out from under you so that it was just his strength holding you up. You weren’t sure how you’d be able to go back to having sex with men who weren’t well-endowed superheroes. Go back to faking it, you supposed.
Your throat was sore. You hadn’t paid attention to how loud you were being. Everyone outside the room must’ve known what was happening if they didn’t have an idea when you first showed up looking for him.
Soldier Boy pulled himself out of you, and you could hear fabric rustling and the sound of his zipper again. You didn’t bother trying to stand up, still needing time to catch your breath.
He used his fingers to swipe up some of his cum that had begun dripping out of you, causing you to gasp at the slight sensation of them brushing against your pussy. You whimpered when he pushed his index and middle fingers inside you, already aching from the orgasm he’d just pulled from you.
“I—I can’t—“
‘I can’t get pregnant and ruin my career,’ you wanted to say, but all that came from your lips was a desperate, animalistic moan.
“I got you, baby,” Soldier Boy whispered, voice low and husky in your ear. “Give me one more so it sticks.”
You choked on air as his thumb brushed your clit, rubbing circles in the sensitive bundle of nerves. His fingers pushed deeper, and your hips bucked at the overstimulation, your spent pussy reactively pulsing around his cum-slicked fingers that curled inside you.
The woman staring back at you in the mirror was a mess with her mascara stained cheeks and smeared lipstick. You were utterly unrecognizable as you came again, harder on his fingers this time, crying out as you gripped the edge of the vanity, threatening to break one of your manicured nails.
“Good girl,” he praised, pressing kisses to your cheek, as you came down from your second orgasm, pulling his hand from between your legs. “You alright?”
“I think so,” you breathed. “Jesus Christ.”
Your legs felt like jelly beneath you, and you wondered how the hell you were going to be able to dance in less than half an hour. You’d have to reapply all of your makeup too.
He turned you around, looking at you with a brief fondness before kissing your lips, soft and quick.
“I need to fix my face,” you breathed.
He smiled. “Why? You look great.”
You laughed softly as he gave you space. You pulled up your panties from around your ankles, knowing his cum would stain them by the time you made it back to the dancers’ makeshift dressing room. Taking some of the tissues from the box on top of the vanity, you began wiping your ruined makeup from your face. He stared at you in silence from the spot he’d taken on the loveseat that’d been brought in for him.
“I think I’d be a good father. Better than my old man,” he said finally.
You paused, looking at him from the mirror, giving him a sardonic smile. “I don’t see you as the settling down type.”
“Maybe I just need a woman worth coming home to.”
“Maybe,” you echoed.
“C’mere.”
You obliged, joining him on the loveseat. He wrapped an arm around you, holding you close. You let yourself bask in the intimacy.
“Things aren’t always gonna be like this,” he said. “Once the war’s over, what’re you gonna do? Go back to dancing in nightclubs?”
“Why not?”
His jaw clenched, cheek twitching as he pulled his gaze from you. “I don’t want you doing this for anyone but me.”
This could have been any number of things, dancing, fucking, being at his beck and call. Knowing him, he meant all of it.
“Ben,” you said, grabbing his attention, “then you have to tell me what you do want.”
“I want you. I want the white picket fence, kids running around the yard with the dog,” he said, the intensity in his voice wrapping tendrils around your mind, pulling you into the world he was describing. “I want dinner to burn ‘cause I was busy putting another baby in you when I got home.”
“Oh,” you whispered.
A voice through the door startled you. “Soldier Boy, the mayor’s here to see you!”
“Think about it,” Soldier Boy said, getting up from the loveseat to grab his helmet and shield.
The door shut behind him, leaving you to agonize over the future he presented to you. Part of you wondered if you’d really have a choice.
#soldier boy x reader#the boys x reader#soldier boy#soldier boy the boys#soldier boy imagine#soldier boy smut#the boys#the boys amazon#the boys tv
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soldier boy core
#soldier boy#soldier boy/ben#soldier boy the boys#soldier boy jensen ackles#the boys series#the boys amazon prime#the boys#jensen ackles#the boys soldier boy
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sweet and sour
summary: when you get back home after drinking a little too much, a sweeter side of ben slips out to take care of you. though you quickly learn that with him, you can't have any sweet without a little sour
pairing: soldier boy x female reader
word count: 3.2k+
warnings: some (mainly) ooc ben, swearing, depictions of alcohol consumption, drunk reader, angst, mentions of drug use, allusions to past sexual behaviours, fluff, hurt/comfort, nicknames/pet names
a/n: okay so i haven't actually made it to soldier boy's appearance in the boys yet, but i had a burning desire to write for him anyway. so yeah just don't judge pls lol
“What the fuck are you doing?” boomed a voice from behind you.
You jumped slightly at the sudden noise, but turned with a grin upon recognizing whose voice it was.
“Ben!” you giggled, meeting his confused gaze with bright eyes as you slightly swayed on your feet. “What’re you doing?”
He raised an eyebrow at you, trying to fight off the smirk forming on his lips as he ignored your question. “Looks like you had a good time out, huh, sweetheart?”
You couldn’t help the heat that rose to your cheeks at the term of endearment, or the string of giggles that left your lips. It wasn’t anything you weren’t used to, but it never failed to make you giddy - especially now. “I did!” you announced, before a frown suddenly took over your face as you remembered why you were in the kitchen “But now I want another drink, and I can’t find anythin’.”
Ben just stared at you for a moment, taking in your rosey cheeks and glossy eyes; but most importantly, the frown that currently adorned your adorable face. He would never admit it, not even to himself, but he suddenly wanted nothing more than for that frown to disappear.
“Alright,” he sighed, heading over to you. “What do you want?”
You watched as he approached, taking in his more casual appearance of a t-shirt and sweats - and, you noticed with a shy grin, a pair of old man slippers. He came to a stop just before you, and you paused as you stared up at his stoic face while he towered over you. You didn’t even hear his question, too distracted by his overwhelming everything to even realize he asked something.
He softly called your name to rouse you from your stupor, repeating it a little more gruffly when it didn’t work the first time. “What?” you asked, blinking up at his annoyed yet smirking face.
“I asked you what you wanted,” he murmured.
“Oh,” you said, your face scrunching together as you thought about it for a few moments. “I dunno,” you determined with a shrug.
“And you expect me to find something for you?” he asked curtly, his brows rising in disbelief.
Your brow unfurrowed as you grinned up at him. “Yes, please!” you declared eagerly, oblivious to the fact that he did not want to cater to you.
He clenched his jaw, extremely irritated with his urge to smile at the sight of your cheesy grin. “Fucking-” he started, before he cut himself off with a long sigh, rolling his eyes. “Alright, fine. Just go sit down or something.”
“Why?” you asked sadly, the frown taking over your face again.
“Why?” he echoed incredulously. “When I came in, you were trying to find a drink while just staring at the fucking glassware for over a minute. That’s why.”
“Were you watchin’ me?” you asked smugly, smirking up at him. “Besides, that doesn’t mean I can’t help find a drink!” you argued, completely missing his point.
His blank expression faltered for a second, a flash of colour fleeting across his face so quick it may as well have never been there. Then he simply barked a laugh, which only deepened your frown. “I bet you wish I was, huh? And you know, that's actually exactly what it means, dollface,” he chuckled darkly, tracing his knuckles along your cheek before suddenly grabbing you by the waist and hoisting you up onto the counter. “So sit this one out,” he said, ignoring your shriek of shock and protest.
“Fine,” you grumbled, completely bewildered by the ease in which he manoeuvred you; as if it cost him zero effort. Which, of course, you knew to be true.
“Good,” he said, smiling in satisfaction before ghosting a kiss against your forehead. “Now don’t fuckin’ fall off,” he warned as he walked over to the coffee machine.
You watched him in confusion, your swirling brain trying to figure out why he was suddenly so much more affectionate with you. You were used to him teasing you, or returning your flirtations and banter, though this felt like more than that. Maybe he was just being extra nice since you were drunk. Or maybe you only thought he was being extra nice because, well, you were drunk.
“Okay, knock it off,” he demanded, glancing over at you. “Why are you so frowny? I thought you liked your stupid girls’ night thing,” he added, leaning against the island with his arms crossed.
“I do like my girls' nights! And I’m not frowny” you grumbled, almost offended he would suggest otherwise.
“No?” he challenged, arching a brow as he took a few steps towards you. “‘Cause last I checked, this wasn’t your pretty smile,” he teased, tracing a thumb against your persistently downturned lips. Your smile naturally grew at that, and he beamed in response. “There’s my girl.”
Your eyes widened at his words, and your reaction must have made Ben realize what he was doing. With slightly widened eyes of his own, he dropped his hand from your face as if burned and turned away from you once more, busying himself with making your coffee - exactly the way you liked it.
You watched in silence, your feet softly swaying against the lower cabinets as your mind drifted in and out. “You don’t have any company tonight?” you found yourself asking suddenly.
“Think I’d be in here doing this if I had fucking company?” he asked hotly. “And I’m pretty sure you know when the last time I had company was,” he added bitterly.
Through all the months of you living with Ben, you had noticed when his parade of bed warmers had started to dwindle down; and you had definitely noticed when it stopped altogether. Part of you likes to wish you had something to do with it, while the other part knew that was insane.
“Okay, grouchy,” you scolded with a chuckle. “Don’t act like it’s my fault.”
“When the fuck did I act like it was your fault?” he snapped, growing exasperated.
“Are you almost done?” you asked brazenly, ignoring his question. “I’m thirsty.”
“Coming right up, princess,” he sneered.
You knew it was meant in a derogatory way based on his tone, yet you couldn’t help the warm tingle that spread through you anyway.
“Here,” he grunted after a few minutes, nearly shoving the mug at you. He raised his eyebrows impatiently when all you did was stare down at it. “I better not have made this for nothing,” he warned.
You gingerly took it from his hands, staring at it as if it was a foreign object; because, with a fluttering heart, you realized that he gave you your favourite mug - though you knew it was probably just a coincidence.
“Thank you,” you said quietly, grinning softly at him before taking a sip.
“Whatever,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes as he hastily turned his back on you once more.
“You seem extra grumpy tonight,” you pointed out, watching him intently as you happily sipped away.
“Who fucking cares?” he grumbled, keeping his attention off you as he made himself a drink - a strong one. He had a sinking feeling that if he looked at you he’d feel all warm inside again, and he refused to let that happen. “Besides. Maybe me being extra grumpy has to do with the drunk girl currently sitting on my counter.”
“Oh,” you said meekly. “I’m bothering you?”
“You always fucking bother me,” he mumbled, slamming the bottle down.
“I don’t mean to,” you assured quietly, your vision growing blurry with unshed tears. “I thought we’ve been getting along,” you added sadly.
“Me putting up with you isn’t us getting along, dollface,” he sneered.
You inhaled sharply at his declaration, your tears finally breaking loose and running down your face. “I can just leave you alone, then,” you offered, your voice a mere whisper.
Ben made the mistake of glancing over at you, and the pang of guilt he felt inside his chest really pissed him off. He begrudgingly made his way over to you, standing between your swaying legs as he tried to meet your gaze - but you refused to acknowledge his presence.
“Look at me,” he ordered, placing a hand on your chin to force your gaze on him.
“No,” you said, closing your eyes.
He let out an honest chuckle at your stubbornness, and if you had been able to see him, you would’ve noticed his eyes sparkle with affection. “Look at me,” he said again, much softer this time as his thumbs wiped away your tears.
You let out a resigned breath, slowly looking up at him.
“There she is,” he cooed, a small smile growing on his face. “Hey, darlin’.”
“Hi,” you replied solemnly, your face scrunching ever so slightly in confusion over the interaction.
He didn’t speak for a while. Instead he just stood there, staring at you with your face in his hands as he tried to figure out what the hell to say next.
“Look, just- stop crying, alright?” he said awkwardly, almost nervously.
“Is that your idea of being comforting?” you asked dejectedly, almost laughing in disbelief.
His grip on your cheeks tightened ever so slightly for a fraction of a second, before loosening again. “You and I both know that offering comfort isn’t my thing.”
“You could at least try,” you muttered snidely. “I’m tired of being the only one of us who tries.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” he snapped, letting you go and taking a step back in order to glare at you.
You scoffed, frustratingly swiping away angry tears that began to stream down your face. “It doesn’t matter.”
A heavy silence blanketed the two of you, and you picked up your mug to idly sip at it once more as he stared you down. He suddenly let out a frustrated huff, swearing and muttering under his breath as he turned away from you and grabbed his glass. With disbelieving eyes, you watched as he left the kitchen without a second glance. You weren’t a stranger to arguments with Ben, but this time, it felt different.
You stayed where you were perched, silently finishing your coffee and trying to make sense of everything that happened. You worked yourself back up into another frenzy as you thought everything over, and by the time your mug was empty you slammed it onto the counter with so much force you were surprised it didn’t break. Hopping off the counter, you began to stumble your way to your bedroom while angrily grumbling to yourself. A new inferno was set alight within you when along the way you came across Ben, nonchalantly lounging in the den as if nothing ever even happened.
“How many fucking times do I have to tell you not to do that inside?” you snapped, watching in growing contemptment as he merely glanced in your direction before turning his attention elsewhere, smoke billowing over his face.
“Tell you what, princess,” he muttered, taking another long drag from the joint he held. “I’ll stop smokin’ inside, as soon as you start payin’ for this fucking place.”
Without so much as giving it a second thought, you marched over to him and ripped the joint from his hands. He raised an eyebrow as he watched you with curiosity, a smirk already forming on his lips.
“I said,” you seethed, grabbing the ashtray from the side table as you stared him down. “Stop.”
He stayed silent, watching as you crushed the joint in the tray before tossing it back on the table with a clang. The corners of his mouth twitched as he fought back an amused grin before he steeled himself.
“I’ll go ahead and give you ten seconds to leave,” he announced calmly, though you knew him well enough by now to notice the hint of warning in his tone.
“Or what?” you challenged, stubbornly crossing your arms.
Normally, you knew when to stop trying to push his buttons, but you had just enough alcohol still coursing through you to keep on going this time.
He leaned forward, his presence completely imposing despite the fact he was sitting and you were standing over him. “Do you really want to find out?”
You shifted nervously as you took in his expression, and you knew he was both pissed off and annoyed; then again, it was rare that he wasn’t.
“Whatever,” you finally muttered, turning away to leave.
It wasn’t due to you being afraid of him - yes, he was intimidating as all hell, but he had never once actually physically hurt you. Despite the many times the urge struck him, and no matter how much he despised it, he quickly learned that you’re the one person he could never lay a harmful hand on. No, you simply left because you were growing exhausted over this whole night, and you just wanted some peace and quiet.
“Thought so,” he grumbled behind your back, snickering as you momentarily stopped in your tracks.
“Oh, just go to hell, Benjamin!” you exclaimed, whipping the closest thing you could grab towards his head.
He caught it easily, laughing heartily when he realized what it was. “Thanks, doll. This is just what I needed,” he teased with a grin, rattling the pill bottle as he held it in the air for you to see. “It’s the only way I can fuckin’ put up with you.”
You stared at him carefully, and you could tell just by the look in his eyes that he only said it to get another rise out of you, but you couldn’t help the way your bottom lip trembled as you fought back more tears.
His face instantly fell as he noticed your reaction, and while it was his intention, he instantly regretted it. With a heavy sigh, he tossed the bottle aside and stood up.
“What are you-” you began to ask as he made his way over to you, but he cut you off.
“Just shut up for once,” he muttered, a trace of a lighthearted chuckle in his voice as he shook his head.
You opened your mouth to fire off more insults when he shocked all the words out of your vocabulary by wrapping his arms around you. He rested his chin on the top of your head, and even though you felt insurmountable anger towards him, you quickly found yourself melting into his touch, your arms tightening around his torso. A few moments passed by before he let out a small sigh, his fingers tracing a feather-light pattern along your back; a gentleness neither of you knew he was even capable of.
“Look, I-... I didn’t… mean it,” he finally said. His tone was tight and awkward, and you knew it was a near impossible thing for him to actually admit. Honestly, hearing those words from him was nothing short of a miracle.
“Thank you,” you said quietly, knowing this was the closest you would ever get to an apology from him.
“How about we get you to bed, huh?” he asked lightly, trying to diffuse the situation.
“Yeah,” you said, pulling away from him. “I’ll get out of your hair.”
You quickly left before he could respond, making it to your bedroom and locking yourself away in the bathroom to get ready. You took your time, carefully scrubbing away all the traces of the club, and the rest of the night, that you could before slipping into your night clothes.
The first thing your bleary eyes noticed when you reentered your bedroom was Ben, paused in the middle of your room with a glass of water in his hand.
“What are you doing?” you asked curiously, rubbing at your tired eyes.
He let out a heavy exhale, looking at you with an expression you’ve never seen on him before. “Was just… bringing this to leave for you."
“Thanks,” you replied awkwardly, meeting him halfway to take the glass from him.
He stared at you for a moment, watching as you made your way to the bed and under the covers. He wanted to say something, but he wasn’t sure what.
“I’ve been trying, you know,” he suddenly grumbled, unable to take the tense silence any longer.
“What?” you wondered aloud, glancing over at him.
His face was scrunched in concentration as he stared at something straight ahead, unable to bring himself to meet your gaze. “With you. To be… I don’t know… better.”
His words took you by surprise, and you felt a little guilty for making him think you never noticed. “I know that,” you admitted softly.
“I don’t think you do,” he quipped, his voice more aggressive than he meant it to be. “You bother me all the fucking time.”
“You know-” you began to argue, anger starting to simmer deep within your bones again.
“Stop,” he all but growled, holding up a hand. “Just fucking listen for once.”
You glowered at him, folding your arms as you sank further under the covers, as if seeking some kind of protection, while waiting for him to continue.
It took him a while to speak up again, and you almost thought he’d never continue, but he hesitantly explained himself. “You bother me… because you make me different.”
“What do you mean?” you asked tentatively.
“I don’t know,” he admitted, chuckling humourlessly. “I’m a dick. I don’t care that I’m a dick. But you- I’m around you, and I want to be less…” he trailed off with a sigh, unsure of how to go on.
“Less dickish?” you offered, fighting off a smile.
“Yeah,” he agreed, awkwardly clearing his throat. “Yeah, I guess so.”
You hummed thoughtfully, thinking over your response. “In case you haven’t noticed, you don’t exactly send me running for the hills, Ben.”
“I know that,” he said passively. “I just… I don’t know. Don’t think that I don’t try.”
He finally turned to look at you, and you could see the pleading in his eyes; the hurt. You sighed in defeat, sitting up and gesturing for him to take up the space beside you. He hesitated, raising a brow in contemplation before making his way over. You peeled back the covers for him, and he carefully slid in; cautious, as though he thought it was a trap.
Neither of you were sure what to do next, and after a few minutes of awkward silence, you laid down to settle in for some sleep. Ben followed suit, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you in close; you instinctively nestled against him, relishing in the warmth he provided.
“I hope you don’t think I’m drunk enough to forget that you were actually sweet tonight,” you said suddenly, your voice a playful whisper.
He let out a chuckle, his chest rumbling beneath your cheek and forcing a small giggle from you.
“Just don’t expect it all the time,” he declared, a playful undertone in his voice as well. “I’m mostly sour.”
Though despite his declaration, his grip tightened to pull you in a little closer.
“Well,” you said, closing your eyes and relaxing against him. “Sweet and sour does happen to be my favourite combination.”
“And thank Christ for that,” he muttered, more to himself than anything.
You smiled to yourself, hearing his words despite them sounding far away. You had a fleeting intent to respond, but your mind grew too heavy, and you quickly fell asleep to the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your head - though, not before you felt him placing a lingering kiss to your hairline, paired with a murmured goodnight, sweetheart.
tagging: @roseblue373
#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy#soldier boy x female reader#soldier boy x you#soldier boy x y/n#soldier boy fic#soldier boy fanfiction#soldier boy fluff#soldier boy angst#jensen ackles#jensen ackles soldier boy#the boys tv#the boys#the boys series#soldier boy the boys
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can i request some obsessive Soldier Boy (with female reader), pls? i can't stop thinking about him being obsessed with having a family and after feeling that he lost everything, he meets y/n in The Boys and decides that she's the perfect woman for him and he won't let her go.
All In The Family// I Will Never Stop With You
Description: Soldier Boy loves a good family, yet never had the time to start one. However, when he meets you--that all changes--for better or for worse.
Pairings: Soldier Boy x Reader
Warnings: Soldier Boy is his own warning, language, sexual innuendos towards Hughie, manhandling.
Note: I love this request. Forever be in my heart.
Nothing could have prepared you for the situation at hand. You, a C class supe working with William Butcher and his rag-tag team of misfit toys. Aside from that, was you were currently being stared down by the one hero you never thought you would ever see outside of a poster.
Soldier Boy.
You had been making dinner for the team, when America's #1 supe had planted himself in one of the kitchen chairs that sat in front of the island counter. Turning your head, you could instantly feel his eyes wandering your figure, practically undressing you from where you were standing in front of the oven.
"Do you need something?" you chirped, a smile stretching across your face.
He returned the smirk, his tongue licking his bottom lip as he bit it, stifling a chuckle that rumbled in his chest.
"Mind grabbing me a cold one from the fridge?"
You nodded, moving from the oven to grab him one of the cold beers from the fridge. Realizing as you fiddled around with the things inside that you guys were all out of beer. You plopped back up onto your feet, shutting the door, swiveling around.
"Hate to break it to you honey, but we are out of beer. I can go by the store later and pick some up." You said with a soft giggle.
Soldier Boy shook his head, again giving you a sweet smile, as he continued to watch you cook.
Little things like this is what kept Soldier Boy going for the most part. The last woman he ever had arrangements with were either dead or hated his guts. But you?
You were nice to him.
He listened to you hum while checking on whatever you were baking in the oven. He slowly moved from his seat towards you, as you bent back up to return to the ingredients in the pan. He gently grasped onto your hips, which earned him a louder squeak.
"What on Earth are you doing? I'm cooking." You sheepishly quipped. His hold on your hips was not at all threatening. Pressing his chest into your back, as he swayed.
"Enjoying the moment." Soldier Boy began as you let him hold you.
This was not the first time he did this. You understood that being in the box for four decades left a person touch starved and lonely. And by knowing what kind of person Soldier Boy was you had to admit he was a bit intimidating at first. However, he was just a man with a shield that needed his attention. By all means, a few hugs were not a problem from time to time.
"Y'know you would make a pretty little housewife." You snorted. Leaning up to look at him.
"Would that make you my husband?" You felt his grip tighten around you.
Soldier Boy had always wanted a family of his own. Yet never had the time to fulfill those worldly desires. The thought of you as his wife, and having a few kids was on his mind. Slowly becoming more and more of an obsession. Though the two of you were not together, him pushing his feelings aside, yet he always thought kindly of you. It was the same problem over and over. He was busy, and didn't have the time. Didn't have the guts to say a word to you. Well, until now.
"Absolutely, sweetheart." He put his chin on top of your head, standing there with you against him. Humming while you cooked.
"Does that mean you like me, Soldier Boy?" You joke, pulling away to set the cooked food onto the counter.
"Like is an understatement." He answered dutifully.
"How so?" You replied, turning around to lean up against the counter with him in front of you.
"Sweetheart, it’s been 40 fucking years since I had anything. Never had the time for shit. But now, out of the box, out of whatever fucking mess the Brit and his team of fuckwads have me doing. With Homelander missing...I can slow down and take the time to see that you are one hell of a woman." He raised up a gloved hand to press against your cheek.
"That is sweet and all, Soldier Boy. Do you really think I'm all that? I mean, I am nothing compared to what you had back then-- I'm just..I just pick up litter in the streets and save kittens from trees." You rubbed your arms looking away from him. His hand still on your cheek, he pulled you back to look at him.
"I only see you." He bent down to press a soft kiss on your cheek, rubbing your shoulders.
"In more ways than one." he whispered into your ear before you playfully slapped at his arms.
"You are so gross." You laughed.
"You love it." He chuckled.
"You're not wrong." You stated, patting the hard textured plate of armor he had strapped to his chest.
Soldier Boy lifted you up onto the counter with ease, toying with the hem of the sundress you were wearing. His thoughts running while with all the seemingly domestic ideas that ran amuck.
"I always had thoughts of us like this." He started, but stopped as he turned his head to stare blankly at something in the corner.
"Thoughts like?" You beckoned for him to finish his statement.
"Of you and I. Getting married, popping out a few kids. Nice house away from everyone." You pulled his face to look at you. And you smiled sadly.
"Soldier Boy. It's a bit too soon to start thinking like that with me." You pushed yourself off of the counter and out of his grip to finish making dinner.
"We hardly know each other. I like you-I do, but thoughts like that...a bit fast don't you think?" Soldier Boy bit the inside of his cheek. Not saying a word.
"I'm sorry if that hurt your feelings." You added.
"None taken." with a curt nod you placed the food for dinner onto the table, walking towards the living room to call for the others. Before you could say anything Soldier Boy stopped you.
"Hey."
You stopped, "Yes?" You asked.
"Maybe you aren't ready now. Or in a couple years, whatever. Just know. You're mine." His tone was dangerously low. You gulped down a bit of spit and nodded.
As Soldier Boy watched you disappear into the living room, he again took his seat at the end of the dining table, crossing his legs and folding his hands, amused by himself and what was to become of his future.
His future life with you and the two kids he always wanted to make.
#soldier boy#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy the boys#soldier boy is his own warning#the boys#askmishapoc#answered
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Gods & Monsters
pairing: Soldier Boy/afab!fem!reader
summary: delivering coffees to Vought’s crisis management team brings you face to face with Soldier Boy—who has a different job in mind for you.
warnings: pure, filthy smut (blowjob, fem penetration, slight predator/prey; slight orgasm denial) so 18+ only content; Soldier Boy b/c tbh he’s his own warning; fem afab reader; mention of reader having long hair (hair pulling); drug mention (coke in detail); title kink (sir); pet names (doll-face, sweetheart, doll); dubcon (coercion, imbalance of power); use of slut degradingly; choking; (light) slapping; spitting.
beta reader: @millllenniawrites aka bestie
word count: 3.3k
this is my first time writing for The Boys!! would love to hear feedback & requests are always allowed :)
—
Even before finding yourself at the mercy of a power-drunk supe, you’d had yourself a pretty fucked up day.
After spending your morning hunched over your desk at Vought trying, in vain, to piece together a script for the new upcoming Crimson Countess film (with a team of useless douchebags hooked on uppers) you had all but quit your job.
Then, of course, the afternoon came with its own set of troubles. Your supervisor had hurried over, wild-eyed and raving, to break the news of a PR scandal—you guessed one of the twins, it was always one of the twins—which called for all hands on deck; including yours, which were delegated to the indispensable task of retrieving coffees for the crisis management team upstairs. If you weren’t flat broke and more of a risk-taker, you’d never engage with anything supe-related ever again—but you were, and you weren’t, so you find yourself in the later hours of the evening delivering lattes to your higher ups on floors of the tower you’d never heard of before.
The elevator doors open and you come face to face with the poster-boy of the company. Your heart leaps as you recognize his face; it settles when you realize he’d never recognize yours. After all, you’d only met briefly once before: just last week, you’d finally spent time on set for one of Payback’s shoots. Assistant duties only, of course, but it had been thrilling to watch the supe and his team, nonetheless.
Needless to say, seeing him up close, now, is a completely different experience. No mask, no makeup—just his chiseled, gorgeous face and entitlement simmering in his green eyes.
“Good, you’re here. I was gonna go looking for you,” Soldier Boy says, unfazed by your paralyzing shock. Amused, he adds, “And you brought the coffee, too.”
You stand in the elevator, unmoving. Then, ever so slowly, you hand him the tray of full, steaming cups.
He laughs, wrinkles next to his eyes forming as he takes the tray. Your mistake seems obvious once the image of the company’s most expensive asset holding a tray of five cent coffees is on display before you.
He calls someone over from down the hall, and a wiry young man comes scampering over. “Take these to the assholes down the hall,” Soldier Boy orders. “And tell them not to fuckin bother me tonight.”
The young man nods fervently and speed-walks, tray in hand, back in the direction he’d rushed over from.
The elevator dings and the metal doors begin to close, but a large palm slaps them back in place. You watch as Soldier Boy peels his hand back, leaving indents in the steel.
“Where have they been hiding you?” He asks, leaning against the metal frame. His eyes flash with amusement as he scans your body up and down, making you wish that you’d worn a nicer skirt or ironed your shirt just a bit more carefully this morning.
You swallow, your throat suddenly tight. “I work in the creative department. Writing,” you say, determined to regain some composure.
“You the one that writes those fuckin’ anti-drug ads?” He asks, ever-so-nonchalantly.
“No,” you answer, trying not to meet his imposing stare head-on. ”I write the movies, the television scripts, that kinda thing.”
“Yeah, you don’t look like a complete prude,” he jokes. ”Though I’m sure I could teach you a few things,” the supe adds with a wink.
He looks at you expectantly, something unidentifiable in the way he takes you in.
You don’t respond.
“Really? Nothing? Thought you worked in the creative department,” he taunts.
You clear your throat. “I do, sir,” you respond, your voice faltering with fake confidence. “And I really should be getting back,” you quickly add, reaching for the button that would take you back down to your floor.
A massive hand blocks your own, and you look up at the supe, frustrated.
He whistles softly. “Whoo, ‘sir…’ I sure like hearing you say that.”
Adrenaline courses through your entire body as he takes a small, controlled step towards you. Your mind races, trying to come up with some sort of escape plan, but it goes blank the moment you glance at that pouty bottom lip or notice the rugged curve of his jaw.
“Well, today’s your lucky day, doll,” the stranger says, his voice suddenly low and quiet, “‘cause we need you up here.”
“For what?” You ask, barely above a whisper.
Something about the glint in his eye makes you want to run down the hall as fast as possible—to get away from this madman. He reminds you of a wild animal; you sense something ferocious and tense coiled up inside, begging to come loose.
And yet, something about the grit in his voice and the shape of his shoulders makes you want to play his game, to close the distance between the two of you.
See where it takes you.
He smiles and steps into the elevator, easing his way behind you and placing his palm against the small of your back, urging you forward.
“Don’t worry, pretty girl,” he grumbles into your ear. “You’ll love it.”
You look up at him, unsure of what to do and intimidated by his overwhelming presence, his demanding words. Like prey caught in a trap, every instinct screams at you to get away.
You don’t move.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he coaxes, twisting a strand of your hair. There’s an edge to his voice you’d only ever heard between cuts, when the cameras weren’t rolling. “Wouldn’t want to upset an American hero, would you?”
You give in, allowing yourself to be guided out of the elevator and down the hall by his palm’s weight against your spine. He doesn’t even look at you; he only steers you forward into an enormous suite, lavishly decorated with all sorts of expensive fabrics, paintings, and furniture. It’s nicer than anything you’ve ever seen, yet Soldier Boy saunters in like it’s no more impressive than a dingy motel room.
The first thing you notice is a heap of white powder out in the open on a massive wooden table. The supe walks over to it and does a line through a rolled up twenty, jerking his head back and shaking his head.
“Want any?” He asks, turning his gaze back to you.
“No, thanks,” you respond, wary. “I like to be sober on the job,” you add, not wanting to sound judgemental.
He shrugs.
“What, exactly, did you want from me?” You ask, cringing at the naivety of the question. What he wants hangs thick in the room, it was heavy in his eyes from the moment you’d first met them.
He closes the distance between you and flashes a taunting smile.
“You don’t like coke? I got benzos, oxy, weed… really anything a girl could want.” He plays absentmindedly with the fabric of your skirt, his eyes drinking in every inch of your body.
“All I want is for you to tell me what you want.”
“You sure have a way with words, doll-face,” his right hand finds its way to the front of your throat, stroking the skin there, gently. Every part of your body responds to the touch and unwelcome arousal clouds your thoughts as you try to keep yourself together.
He ducks down, his lips lightly brushing skin of your ear.
“I want to watch you take my cock in every way you can, sweetheart.”
Your body responds before your mind can process his words; suddenly, you’re having trouble standing upright as heat spreads across your core.
“I know you’ll be so good for me,” he adds, fiddling with the collar of your shirt.
“Can I say no?” You ask, cursing how small your voice sounds. Despite your efforts, you’re sure he can hear your reluctant desire dripping off your every word.
He looses a low chuckle. “‘Course you can,” a pause as he places his palm against your cheek, “but you shouldn’t,” he finishes, flatly. “Besides,” Soldier Boy continues, his voice husky and deep, “all I’m asking is for you to get on your knees and put that pretty little mouth to good use.”
You don’t know what makes you do it. Perhaps it feels inevitable; after all, you happen to be alone, cornered by the most powerful man in the world. Or maybe, just maybe, some twisted part of you wants to be at the mercy of this man.
Almost as if in automatic response, you feel yourself sinking to the ground, holding his stare like a tether to reality—a lifeline. He smirks with satisfaction, and, celebrating his win, unhooks his buckle for you to pull the length of him out. Your eyes widen, astonished by the sheer size and girth of him. He notices, of course, and gives you a lazy grin.
Asshole.
Begrudgingly, you accept that you want him. Still, you struggle to admit to yourself that this desire is quickly becoming much more than that.
Some starved part of you is desperate to satisfy this stranger in any way you can.
“Take all of it,” he orders, nodding down towards you. You obey, tasting the salt of his pre-cum and feeling him push down to the back of your throat.
“That’s fucking right, sweetheart,” Soldier Boy groans as you slide down the length of his cock, over and over. “That’s what this mouth was made for.”
He tugs at your hair, taking a fistful of it and forcing your eyes up to meet his. He thrusts forwards, pushing deeper and deeper and deeper—you give him everything you have. His intensity only builds and you find yourself choking, spit gathering in the corners of your lips as he fucks your mouth.
“Fuck yeah, doll,” he groans. “You fuckin’ love that.”
You melt into his encouraging gaze, your eyelids heavy, your panties soaked completely through.
You nod in agreement and he loosens his hold on your hair. You pull off of him, gasping for air, strings of saliva connecting the two of you in pure need.
“Don’t you stop,” the supe warns, using one hand to guide his cock back into your mouth, the other pushing at the back of your head.
You go slow, now, blinking the well-earned tears from your eyes, savouring the feel of him against your lips, your tongue, the roof of your mouth. You put both hands to work and watch him remove the top of his suit, near swooning at the sight of his bare torso.
“You want me to fuck that pussy of yours?” He asks, making your clit throb in response.
Breathless, you utter a quick “yes,” before taking him back between your lips.
“Fuckin’ course you do,” he responds lazily, placing a hand on your cheek, running his thumb down your face, tracing the bone as he smiles.
“Then tell me you’re a slut who loves sucking cock,” he says gently, his torturous hand behind your head always guiding you to take more and more of him, keeping you desperate for air. “Isn’t that true?” He continues, arrogance soaking each and every syllable. “Don’t you fucking love having my dick in your mouth?”
You nod, dazed with lust, his low and gravelly voice undoing you in every way.
“Say it,” he commands, his voice severe—degrading.
You slide off of his length, continuing to please him with the use of your hands.
It comes out as a plea. “I’m a slut who loves sucking cock,” you tell him, earnestly, meeting the challenge in his eyes head-on.
His length twitches in your hand and you know you’ve done a good job.
Soldier Boy laughs. “Get up, sweetheart,” he orders, “bedroom’s on the left.”
You obey, lifting yourself onto shaking legs. Your kneecaps burn from the friction.
You round into a room with a huge bed, unmade silver silk sheets and a thin duvet cast upon it like something out of a movie. The moon’s glow shines through a massive window, illuminating the surrounding luxury. You hear a loud sniff followed by a sigh, then footsteps approaching your direction.
It’s impossible to take it all in. Barely five seconds pass before Soldier Boy is behind you, unbuttoning your blouse.
“You got a favourite way to take it?” He asks, ridding you of your shirt. “With tits like this,” he groans into your neck, roughly squeezing your breasts and running a calloused finger over each nipple, “I could watch you bounce.”
You shiver at his touch, aching for more. The feel of the supe behind your back is nothing short of maddening; his hardness pressing against you fills your head with thoughts so sinful they’d make the devil blush.
“I want to watch,” you decide, surprised at the strength of your own volition. “I want to see you fucking me.”
You wind up on your back at the edge of the mattress with Soldier Boy between your legs. Desire simmers into your very bones, threatening to undo you before even being touched.
He bunches up your skirt and slides a thumb down the middle of your panties. “Fuckin’ soaked,” he whispers to himself with a smile, shaking his head. He pulls them off roughly and sets himself up at your entrance, running his tip along your swollen clit one, two, three times.
“Stay up on your elbows and don’t look away—got it, sweetheart?” The stranger orders. You respond with a fervent nod. As he slides himself between your folds, you let out a soft gasp, watching his cock disappear inside you. He groans, then flashes you an arrogant smirk.
“Fucking desperate for it,” he says. “Look how good your pussy takes it.”
Placing his hands on your upper thighs, he sets a rhythm, slow and hard; all you can do is stare, open-mouthed, at the sight of his cock slamming in and out of you. You meet his eyes for a moment—his full of mockery and satisfaction, yours likely full of wild abandon.
“You like seeing me ruin you?”
Struggling to form words, you merely gasp out a desperate “yeah” and it sounds more like a question. You try to stay propped up on your elbows as the brutality of his thrusts intensifies—he fucks you harder and faster with every movement.
“Ohhh, fuck, yeah you do,” he answers, throwing his head back, a winner’s smile spreading across his face.
It feels so good you can hardly string together a cohesive thought. You reach out for something to grab onto and your fingers find his forearm, the indestructible muscles underneath tensing as you struggle to stay up. Soldier boy smiles down at your dazed expression, placing his hands on either side of your head as he leans forward.
“Open that mouth just a little wider for me, sweetheart,” he says softly, contrasting the roughness of his thrusts.
You obey, and placing his thumb on your chin, he spits in your mouth, his saliva coating your tongue.
“Swallow, baby,” he says, and so you do, moaning as his spit slides down your throat.
He ducks his head down. “Fuck that’s so hot,” he groans, finding your clit and drawing lazy circles on your pulsing, swollen bud.
“You’re a fuckin’ superstar, sweetheart, the way this pussy takes cock.”
The stimulation overwhelms you entirely. “I-I can’t hold on,” you gasp out, feeling a familiar warmth spreading from where his thumb plays with your pulsing bud.
He wraps a hand around your throat, forcing you to look deep inside his heavy-lidded eyes, his dilated pupils.
“Tell me how much of a slut you are for this cock and I’ll let you come,” he orders with a mocking smile.
You can feel yourself going, seeing stars from the feel of his thighs slamming into your ass, his length reaching deep inside you, and the hand wrapped around your throat.
The man certainly loved making you talk in moments where words were impossible to form.
Soldier Boy laughs. “What, fuckin’ cock-drunk already?” His hand momentarily leaves your throat to collide with your cheek, waking you out of your stupor, before wrapping around your jaw. His grip is controlled—it inflicts no pain but allows for no negotiation, either.
“Tell me you love it.”
“I love it,” you moan, barely above a whisper. All you can focus on is holding back your climax as his fingers continue to work at the apex between your thighs.
“Scream it,” he orders, slamming himself inside you. The violent sound of skin meeting skin fills the room, fills your ears.
“Please-“ you beg, the word coated in desperation.
“Fuckin’ scream it,” he demands, unbending.
He leans in deep, his cock grazing the sweet spot at your core.
Warmth and lust erupt from inside you.
Words become easy, now. “I love it, I love it, oh my god I love your cock,” you half-gasp, half-cry as your orgasm blossoms through your body. You tremble underneath him and he laughs, continuing to fuck you through the waves of bliss.
“Just a desperate fuckin’ whore,” he taunts, running his hands along your sides, your breasts, before reaching your ass, giving it a harsh squeeze.
He pulls out quickly, leaving you panting, shaking, dazed, empty.
“On your knees one more time for me, doll,” he says with surprising gentleness, pulling you by the arm off the edge of the bed. “I wanna see you taste my fuckin’ load,” the supe says with a smile, again using a large hand to guide his length into your open mouth.
You take him in slowly, registering your own acidic taste on his cock. There’s a low groan from him, and then he’s holding both sides of your head steady and thrusting into the back of your throat.
“Fuck. Yeah.” He says, throwing his head back. You keep your eyes up, locked on him. When he meets your gaze, he groans, “god, you look a fucking mess.” He grins down at you, “I almost feel bad for getting you up here.”
You freeze and look up at him, his length still halfway down your throat.
He scoffs and smiles. “You really think they’d get someone from your floor to bring fucking coffees up here?” He palms your cheek, shaking his head. “I knew from the moment I saw you at the shoot last week—your little fucking clipboard and that short ass skirt…” he trails off, stroking your cheek as you stare up into his daring eyes.
“I knew I had to see you like this.”
His words send shivers down your spine. You know you should feel used, tricked, or stupid, but all you feel is grateful, special, at his having noticed you. That desperate desire to please him simmers fiercely in your blood.
Slowly, you begin moving again, running your tongue down the length of his cock before circling the tip, tauntingly, slowly, adoringly. He shakes his head and grins: a god between your lips.
“Good girl.”
You grab his hips to steady yourself, trying your best to stay still and take his whole length without choking, lightheaded from the lack of air.
“Fuuuuuuck.” You feel his cock twitch as a stream of warmth slips down your throat, salty and thick. He relaxes his grip and slowly pulls his length out from your mouth. “Look at me and swallow, baby,” Soldier boy whispers firmly, holding your cheek in his hand.
You close your mouth and swallow, trying to steady your breath as the taste of him lingers in your mouth. He smiles and wipes a thick finger along your lips.
“‘Could keep you here, you know,” he says softly, holding your face up to meet his drunken look. “Tie you up, fuck you till you forget who you are… you’d like that, wouldn’t you, doll?” He asks, his voice low, dark, and gentle—you ignore how sinister it sounds, leaning into his hand and closing your eyes.
“Yes, sir,” you mumble, turning into his palm and smiling.
Soldier Boy’s soft chuckle fills the room, and he leans down to take your face in both his calloused, firm hands.
“You’re a fucking star, sweetheart,” he says. “You’re my fucking star, right?”
You gaze into his darkened eyes, wondering how in the world you came to be in this position.
It didn’t matter.
You were here now, and you wanted more. Needed more.
“Right.”
Your answer is met by a look of utter male satisfaction, Soldier Boy’s eyes filling again with animalistic hunger.
You’d be his for as long as he’d have you.
#soldier boy#soldier boy x you#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy x female reader#soldier boy smut#the boys#the boys tv#the boys fanfic#soldier boy fanfiction#the boys smut#jensen ackles#jensen ackles characters#soldier boy the boys#the boys season 3#the boys s3#jensen ackles smut#the boys x you
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Already Broken
Summary: Soldier Boy fools around with someone that's supposed to be insignificant. But he finds himself more drawn than he could ever be.
Genre: romance, angst
Characters: Soldier Boy x female reader
WARNING: cursing, violence, smoking, mentions of weed, depictions of sex, mentions of abuse, character death, minors dni -- It's Soldier Boy, he is the warning.
a/n: this man.. I can't.
Masterlist
It didn't matter who he was.
You didn't care, as long as he showed up with the money or weed he promised.
"So, what time you get off today, darlin'?"
Ben sat in the booth, having his lunch where he always does -- the diner you worked at. It was small, grimy, but a local favorite.
"Soon, in about half an hour." You replied. "What do you want?"
He smirked. "You know what I want. Keep the change, I'll see you later tonight."
You first met Ben when he was saving your boss, the diner owner, from being robbed. That's mostly why he always eats at the diner, his payment for saving your boss was a free meal each day (though he leaves tips anyway).
After having you serve him, Ben didn't want anybody else. He would only ask for you, and that sparked your deal with him. In reality, it was just an opportunity for blackmail.
He caught you smoking in the back alley one time, and after threatening to spill the beans to your boss, he decided to keep your little secret. In exchange of your services -- after hours.
He'd come, fuck you over, and leave money. You took offense at first, but at this point you didn't care. It was money that you needed, and he fucked you good.
By the time you reached your apartment, Ben was already inside waiting for you.
"There's my sweet." He sighed in relief before spreading his legs and smirking, "Strip."
Rolling your eyes, you took off your clothes, showing him your naked body underneath the waitress uniform you had to wear.
"Mm, no underwear under that short skirt? Baby, you should've told me earlier." Ben stood up, circling around you, his breath right next to your ear. "Would've taken you right then and there."
You gulped, feeling his cold uniform touching your bare skin.
You know the rest.
------
Sometimes you wonder if what you're doing with Soldier Boy is worth it. Yes, he's charming, he has that je ne sais quoi factor, and God was he handsome. The only problem was that he's ruthless, and calling him a 'bad guy' was an understatement.
"You're scared of me." He stated the obvious while lying naked on your bed. "Why?"
"Are you really asking why?" You snorted as you put on some clothes. "You could literally snap my head off at any moment you like. That fact isn't exactly comforting."
He smiled, "Aw, but I won't do that. I like you, you're fun to keep around."
"Very reassuring."
He had stuck the money on the fridge with a magnet, like he always does. It still makes you feel bad, makes you feel like a whore, but you needed the money -- at this point, you are a whore.
"What's on your mind?"
"Nothing."
He frowned, a smile of disbelief on his face. "Usually you'd already be smoking by now."
"I can't." You said, "My brother's coming to visit and he's staying. I need to look like I have my shit together."
"Brother? I didn't know you had a brother."
You raised a brow. "Cause I don't need to tell you. Anyway, you can't come over for the next week."
It was his turn to raise a brow. "What do you mean I can't?"
"I can't have my brother look at me like this -- with obvious sex bruises."
"Sounds like you're even more scared of your brother than me." He joked, but when he saw the look in your eyes he started to wonder.
"Oh, you are scared of him."
"He's my brother." You swallowed thickly, grabbing yourself a glass of water. "He's just strict."
Ben looked at you for a minute before deciding to let the topic go. "Well, whoever he is, I'm still coming over. He can't stop me from getting my daily dose of addiction."
He left a kiss on your neck before leaving your apartment. "I'll see you soon, baby doll."
-------
Yes, you're scared of your brother.
It sounds silly, but when you were kids he used to hit you -- playfully at first, but then it got more serious. He called you names that he would disguise as playful and harmless, and you believed all he said.
That's why as you're picking him up, you're nervous as hell.
"Took you long enough."
"Hi to you too." You sighed, "Come on, my apartment's just down the block."
He handed you his bag and walked ahead. "Keep up, dumbass."
"Why are you here, anyway?"
"What, I can't visit my little sister?" He said in a 'loving' tone. "My friends are gonna hang. I'll just be here for a few days."
Thank God. You thought to yourself.
Your brother, Kyle, immediately went to your fridge to find some food.
"Help yourself..." you muttered.
"What did you say?" He frowned.
"Nothing," You sighed, dropping his bag on the couch while you cleaned up some dishes.
Kyle leaned against the counter. "Damn straight. You're starting to disrespect me. I should check in on you more often."
"I'm an adult, Kyle." You protested, "You don't need to protect me."
Big air quotes on protect.
"You're still my little sister." He sighed, "I don't want anything to happen to you."
For a moment there you felt like Kyle's changed. Maybe he's different now. Maybe he's no longer the ass-
"What the fuck?" Kyle squinted at the bruise he could see under your shirt. "Is that a fucking hickey?"
You pulled your shirt. "No, um, it's-"
"It is!" He scoffed, "God, I'm out there working my ass off and you're here just whoring around town? Jesus Christ."
"I'm not-"
"Get a real job, Y/N. Oh wait, sorry, you already have one -- being the community slut."
It was rage that you were feeling. Your hands were sweating, your heart was beating too fast for its own good, and your hand was holding a glass.
You did what you always do, breathe in and out. Count to ten. Don't let him get to you--
"Who the fuck would want you now? Worthless. Since the moment you were born."
Until that last comment somehow triggered your arm to swing and hit his head. The glass in your hand shattered into pieces when it hit his head, and Kyle was now lying on the ground, unconscious.
You weren't sure what happened -- no, you know exactly what happened.
Your hands were shaking while you tried to balance yourself.
What did you do?
How- why- shit-
"Shit."
You heard a familiar voice at the entrance of your apartment.
"Ben.. I-"
"Don't move." He said, warning you about the glass that was everywhere. Ben moved closer to Kyle, checking his pulse, though he knew the chances were slim. There was a big piece of glass that went through his skull.
"Is.. Is he?"
Ben stood up and covered you away from Kyle. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up."
"Ben, is he- is my brother.. I didn't mean to, I.. I couldn't.." You struggled with your words, chest heaving in panic because you realize what you'd just done.
Ben checked your hands for any cuts, but luckily they were small. "Don't look at him. Look at me. You're okay, alright? You don't need to explain to me what happened."
"But I-"
"Shh, it's okay." Ben pulled you into a hug, making sure you face away from Kyle's body.
It wasn't like Ben to act like this, to put someone else before him. He had no intentions to protect you, but the moment he saw the fear in your eyes, it was like instinct.
"Listen to me, here's what's gonna happen."
-------
Things moved fast. One moment you were picking up your brother, and now his body is being carried away to the morgue. Ben did all the talking to the police.
His story?
You're his secret girlfriend who has an abusive brother. When he arrived at your apartment he saw your brother hitting you in ways unimaginable. He did the only thing he knew how to.
The story wasn't a lie, except for the last part.
Ben wanted to protect you, but you knew damn well you killed your own brother. The guilt, the shame -- it was eating you up. And Ben could see it.
Ben managed to convince the authorities that you're too much in shock to speak, and he brought you back with him to his place.
"Hey," He called out softly, rubbing your back. "How are you holding up?"
He couldn't believe he's actually being nice, for once.
You sat on his bed and looked at him. "You're being nice to me."
He chuckled. "You just went through something traumatic. It's gonna take a while for you to get through it."
You mouth went dry.
"I.. I killed my brother."
"You were defending yourself."
"Against what? His words?" You scoffed, "He was yelling at me.. he was being fucking condescending and I just.. I lost it."
Ben reached for a blunt he casually had nearby and passed it to you.
"He was abusing you. Maybe not physically, but it doesn't matter. He's been doing that to you your entire life." He said. "If you ask me, it's about time he learnt his lesson."
"He's dead, Ben. He didn't learn anything."
The blunt was gone fast.
Ben stayed with you for the entire day, even though sometimes you didn't know what to say. Ben didn't know what to say either, he just knew he couldn't leave you alone.
At one point, Ben carried you to his bathroom. He ran a bath, made sure it was warm, and sat behind you, washing your hair.
"Why are you being nice?"
"You just went through something, sweetheart. I'm trying to take care of you."
You looked down. "I know, but you didn't have to. You could've just left me, watch me get arrested.. but instead you lied for me. You took the blame. Wait, what's gonna happen to you? Aren't you going to get in trouble?"
He chuckled, "Sweetheart, I'm Soldier Boy. I can do anything I want."
You turned to face him. It was the first time you saw his expression so gentle, so kind.
Ben let you rest your head on his chest while he rubs your fingers, knowing well that you could still feel the glass breaking in your hands. He couldn't handle you looking at him like that, it made him feel things.
"You know, I was alone when I got here." He started. "Everything was dark, I couldn't find my way. And then I met you, and.. I don't know, things just started falling into place."
"I didn't do anything though."
"That's the crazy part." He smiled, "You were just there. Whether I needed you or not, you're always there. Even if you only did it for the money, or the drugs, I don't care."
Ben didn't want to add any more to your plate. You've had quite the day. So he just held you and massaged your sore shoulders.
"Just stay and let me be here, alright? We'll figure out everything else tomorrow."
"..Alright."
#ben soldier boy#soldier boy#soldier boy x female reader#solder boy x reader#female reader#jensen ackles#the boys#homelander#team payback#vought#dean#winchester#soldier boy angst#soldier boy romance#soldier boy fluff#the boys amazon#the boys tv#the boys season three#soldier boy the boys#jensen ackles soldier boy
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𝙾𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝙾𝚞𝚛 𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎 (pt. 9)
(Soldier Boy x Female Reader)
(masterlist)
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Your main goal while you’re riding with Butcher is to make sure you can get Ben back no matter the cost. After getting to Grace Mallory’s last known residence, you hope you can find what you’re looking for. The sooner you’d find Ben, the better off you’ll be.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cannon level violence, nothing to explicit. Alternative ending to the final episode of season three in a way, or an alternative version of the aftermath rather. Hope you all enjoy!
You could hear the way Butcher was grumbling obscenities to himself all throughout the car ride to get to Grace Mallory’s home. You didn’t catch all of it but you knew Butcher wasn’t exactly thrilled to be going back to a place where he was unwelcome. It surprised you since you assumed he got used to the feeling of being unwelcome considering his record.
“You know, you aren’t the only one in the car. You sound like a psychopath talking to yourself when I’m right here.” You said as you continued to look out through the windshield.
“I just don’t get why you’re going through all this trouble for a guy who’s willing to kill children like Ryan just to get to his goal. What kind of heartless bastard is he?” He asked, glaring at the road and you shrugged a little.
“And you were completely fond of Ryan when you found out he was the spawn of your wife’s rape? A spawn of Homelander? Don’t tell me the thought hadn’t crossed your mind, so that argument is kind of unfair to Soldier Boy.” You commented and you heard Butcher continue to grumble.
“That’s a different bloody story. Becca didn’t ask for any of that shit to happen to her. She went missing for so many years and I had no fucking clue what happened to her. Hell, there were times I thought she was dead.”
“Soldier Boy is my Becca. You went a handful of years without her. I’ve gone decades without Soldier Boy. And he didn’t ask to be taken to Russia, didn’t ask to be robbed of the opportunity to raise his own son. Who knows, if Soldier Boy really did raise Homelander, maybe he wouldn’t have turned out to be such a dick.” You continued.
“I hardly think Soldier Boy is really as helpless as Becca was though.”
“That’s not what I’m saying.. Yeah he’s strong and for the most part he can take care of himself if you take the damned Novichok out of the equation. No, he’s not as helpless as your wife was. And I’m sorry for your loss and I hate to hear what happened to her. Maybe that wasn’t exactly the best example.”
“You think?” Butcher muttered as he started to turn on a certain road.
“Okay, okay. Bad analogy. Maybe it would be better like this… The same love Becca felt for you? The way she loved you is the love I feel for Soldier Boy.”
“Oh now you’re comparing me to Soldier Boy? Thanks, that’s such a bloody compliment to be compared to the cunt.” He said and you sighed.
“Well, all I’m saying neither of you are perfect. You both have your flaws. Like a shit ton of flaws and no one in their right mind should care for either of you. Both of you have blood on your hands whether you wanted it or not. But Becca accepted you, flaws and all. She knew you’re far from perfect and she wasn’t blind to the fact that you’re not exactly the greatest guy on the planet, but her love for you was still strong and unconditional. And I love Soldier Boy even with all of his flaws and mistakes.”
Butcher was silent for several moments while his gaze remained transfixed on the road ahead of the two of you. You turned your head and looked out of the passenger window.
“He really wasn’t a bad guy in the beginning. Arrogant, sure. But he never wanted innocent people to get hurt. He just got suckered into Vought’s trap like a lot of Supes do. They say the road to Hell is paved with good intentions after all. And after a while, I guess he, like most supes, lost a lot of their morals somewhere along the way…” You said.
“He was telling me about that. Just before we were on the way to fight Homelander.” Butcher finally spoke again.
“As much as I don’t like what Annie said about Soldier Boy, and as much as I think she grew a little bit self centered for it, I’m still glad she stepped away from Vought when she did.” You spoke as you remembered that Annie was still the one that gave you that unreleased photo of Soldier Boy.
“I can tell her heart is still in the right place, so there’s hope for her yet. She’s just got a bit of growing up to do.” At this, Butcher only hummed.
You sighed a little, ready to get out of the car. It felt like you had been driving for most of the day, but really it’s only been about two or three hours, “How much longer ‘till we get to Mallory’s?”
“Won’t be too much longer.” Butcher said, starting to get short again.
When you glanced over, you saw that he wasn’t in the right shape and you noticed that something seemed to be leaking from his ear. Your frowned a little.
“Is that from the temp V you’ve been taking?” You asked and pointed at your own ear.
Butcher glanced at you and he touched his own ear. He glanced down at his fingertips and muttered a curse as he wiped the residue on his pants. Lovely.
“Yeah.”
“You must’ve taken a lot of those doses, huh?” You asked.
“Eh, mistakes have been made. I’m just glad the Kid didn’t take anymore. It would’ve killed the little fella.” He insisted.
“So… what made you protect him? Isn’t that kind of out of your character?” You inquired, which caused him to shoot a glare at you.
“I’m not that bad of a guy either ya know. I’m doing this with the whole, Hell with good intentions thing you were talking about.” He commented as he looked back at the road.
“But anyway.. Hughie reminds me a lot of somebody I knew.” He finally answered your question after a few minutes. You smiled a little to yourself, knowing Butcher couldn’t have been that bad of a guy deep down.
“Friend?”
“Family member… brother.”
You frowned a little, getting the feeling from the way Butcher went stoic with his facial expressions that something bad must’ve happened. You glanced down at your hands, “I’m sorry.”
“Ain’t nothing to be sorry for. Only thing that can fix anything is a Time Machine at this point.” He told you, though the comment didn’t make the frown leave your face.
“So how long do you have left?” You asked, getting the feeling the temp V may just be costing the man his life.
“Doctor’s say I’ve got about 18 months, that’s if I’m lucky. Which so far in life, I haven’t been so lucky.”
“I’m sure Hughie may be able to help you find some kind of cure. Plus you’ve got Frenchie who’s apparently one Hell of a chemist.”
“I haven’t told the lot of them yet. And I don’t plan on it.”
“You know Hughie’s going to be crushed if you don’t say anything to him and he finds out some other way.” You reminded and Butcher shook his head.
“I got him wrapped up in this mess from the start. I’ve dragged all of them through the trenches, so most of them may even be glad to hear I’ll be dead and out of their lives for good.” Butcher said.
“That’s awfully pessimistic of you.” You replied and he gave a slight shrug.
“It’s the truth though. Not much helpin’ that one.”
You looked out of the window again when the conversation didn’t go any further. But then after a few minutes, the two of you made it to a house that must’ve been Mallory’s. Butcher pulled into the driveway and the both of you got out of the vehicle.
“Look’s like she’s not here.” Butcher said when he noticed there weren’t any vehicles, and he remembered this was the last place she was when she was still looking after Ryan.
“Still, she’s bound to have some sort of notes, maybe even a computer so we can look through her emails and see what we can find. If she’s not here, there are always other ways to find out where she’s keeping Soldier Boy.” You insisted, hearing Butcher sigh you walked up to the door.
You noticed there’s a padlock on the door and you lifted a brow as you tried to think of what sort of codes to try. As you started to press some of the buttons, you heard the shattering of glass. You stood upright and looked around, but the next thing you knew, Butcher was opening up the door from the inside so you could come in.
“You’re in a rush, right? Let’s get this over with. Pressing buttons and solving puzzles won’t get you anywhere fast.” He said and you smirked a little.
“Let’s see what we can find.”
Ben woke up yet again feeling drowsy as Hell. He honestly had no idea at this point how long it’s been since he’d been taken. He stopped counting the hours, especially since he couldn’t when he was blacked out some of the time because of the damned gas or whatever they were putting in him.
He felt drained, but at this point it wasn’t a new feeling. It was still a humiliating feeling though. When he finally opened his eyes again and glanced down ward, he saw someone was drawing blood from him. As much as he wanted to move his arm away, he couldn’t because they put more restraints on his arms as a precaution from last time he was able to get one of his arms free.
“What have the results been so far?” Ben could hear a familiar voice question.
He slowly looked over and saw Grace was standing behind the woman taking his blood. The bitch looked even worse up close. He couldn’t say anything though. Mask and all.
“Nothing. I’m getting to understand why the Russians just put him away. Pretty much nothing can kill him and we aren’t making much progress with finding any other weaknesses.”
“And you’re taking his blood, why?” Mallory inquired.
“We’re hoping to see what kind of genetic weaknesses he could have and we need his blood to do some tests for that.” The doctor said.
Ben winced when he felt yet another needle in his arm and he assumed they were taking more blood from him. He tried to jerk his arm away but that did nothing to help him.
“What other procedures will you be performing in the meantime while you wait for the blood tests?”
“We’ll be seeing different ways the Novichok and maybe some other vapors can effect him. Maybe we can use that to kill him rather than using the radiation like they did in Russia.”
That sounded like it would be a painfully slow process. All the Novichok did was make him feel sleepy, almost like an anesthetic. But if he were to die in his sleep, Ben supposed he’d take that over a painful and torturous death.
“You know, maybe we can save some of the blood. If we can use his genes, maybe we can make a different hero. One that’s better than Homelander. Raise him up to take Homelander down.” Mallory suggested.
“Work for us? They’d be labeled as just another super terrorist or supervillain or whatever the term is. Are you sure that would be a good idea?”
“If we can shut down Vought once and for all, then anything would be worth it.”
Ben couldn’t stand for it. He wouldn’t let his DNA be used for someone else’s experimentation. Especially not after the last child turned out to be such a damned disappointing excuse to be called his son. He wouldn’t let that happen again.
“No…” He managed to speak and Mallory looked over at him.
“No what? I don’t think you have much control over what we do here.”
“Do not.. make another kid. Not like that bitch Homelander…”
Mallory heard the comment coming from Soldier Boy. She was almost amazed that he could even gather up the consciousness to form a sentence with how much Novichok they were gassing him up with. She hoped he wasn’t growing some sort of immunity to it. That would be disastrous.
“Trust me, Soldier Boy… if we do find a way to make a child from your DNA, the last thing we want is another Homelander.” She said, but she could tell the thought wasn’t comforting to the fallen hero. Not that it was intended to be a comfort anyway.
“It won’t be like you or Homelander. Maybe it’ll be even stronger than Homelander’s so called son, Ryan.” Mallory shrugged and that was when her phone began to buzz.
She pulled her device from her pocket and looked down, realizing there was an alert from her last residence.
Her eyes widened when she saw the security footage. It was not only the familiar face of Butcher breaking one of her windows to get into her house, but he was working with none other than Quake.
Grace could see from the phone they were looking for something. When Grace watched you look through her office area and she saw you open up her laptop, her stomach dropped. She didn’t know how quickly you’d be able to find this lab, but Mallory knew it would only be a matter of time before you’d be on your way here.
“Keep him sedated.” Mallory said as she turned on her heel while she was about to walk out of the door.
“What’s happening? It’s not like he’s going anywhere.” The doctor said and Grace looked back at Soldier Boy.
Once they made eye contact, Ben knew something must’ve happened. He smirked when he saw a glimpse of weakness in Grace’s eyes, a glimpse of fear.
“We may need to move him. My last location’s been made.” Grace said and walked out of the room.
The smirk remained on Ben’s face as he looked back up at the ceiling. If his assumptions, his hopes even, were correct… you’d be there to get him out of this Hell-hole in no time.
You saw the information on the laptop screen and you smirked before you looked over at Butcher who was just looking over your shoulder.
“I take it you’ve found it?” He asked.
“Yep. Let’s head out. If I know Mallory and her security plans… she may already know we’ve been here.” You commented and wrote down the address. Then you folded the paper in your hand and stood upright.
“We need to move now before she tries to move Soldier Boy.” Butcher nodded before he turned on his heel and headed for the door that’s been left open.
With that, you and Butcher both left the house and rushed to the car because the two of you could hear sirens in the distance. Mallory must’ve sent some kind of security to her home or something because of the break in so now it was time to haul ass.
Neither of you really bothered to buckle up and Butcher started the car and drove off. Meanwhile you grabbed your phone and started typing in the address on the GPS so Butcher could head that way.
You could tell Butcher was speeding with how you felt like you were about to sink into the seat as he took off. The sirens were close for a moment but as Butcher drove the sirens started to sound like they were getting further and further away.
Once you put the location in the GPS and put the phone on the little phone stand, you looked in the passenger mirror, “Do you think we lost them?”
“Ain’t no tellin’ so we may have to take advantage of our other precautions… check the glovebox.” Butcher told you so you opened it up and saw a gun.
“Let’s hope we’ve lost them.” You said, not sure of your aim with a gun and if you could get their tires or if you’d end up missing them and hitting someone else. Boulders you could handle, guns? Not so much.
But unfortunately, you could hear the sirens again and they were gaining on you pretty fast. You looked in the passenger mirror again and you felt a little uneasy.
“Quake, you’re gonna have to use that bloody thing if they get any closer to us. And from the looks of it… they’re coming pretty quick.” Butcher said and you looked down at the gun in your hand.
“Aim for the tires and you should be fine..” You whispered to yourself and you made sure the safety was switched off and you carefully got out of the seat and tried to steady yourself, though it wasn’t so easy since the road was starting to get a little bumpy.
You leaned out of the window and faced behind you. Sure enough, some cars were gaining speed behind you. You tried to steady your breathing while you lifted the hand that was holding the gun and aimed forward for their tires.
You pulled the trigger the first time and flinched when you heard both the gunshot and the tire blow on the first car. Your eyes widened when you saw the first vehicle struggle to keep control and they went off the side of the road.
“And you thought your aiming was bad. Now knock the dust off those other cunts.” Butcher said from the driver’s seat and you nodded to yourself and you pulled the trigger again, then again, taking care of the other two cars. You saw as the front of the two cars met and you could tell they were totaled with the way the airbags went off.
You felt a hand at the back of your shirt to pull you back in, though you realized it was just Butcher. You thanked him and switched the safety back on the gun and put it back in the glovebox. You ran a hand through your hair before you glanced over to the phone, looking to see how long it would be until you’d get to your destination.
“You think Soldier Boy will still be there if Mallory knows we’re on the way?” You questioned, trying not to doubt now of all times.
Butcher shrugged, “We’ve already made it this far. We won’t know if he’s there until we get there.”
After about ten more minutes, you finally arrived at your destination. Butcher went for his little black bag and you knew the V was in it. You put a hand over his and he looked at you.
“What?”
“You’re already dying. Don’t make the process speed up. The only supe that’s in there is Soldier Boy and he’s incapacitated.” You said and you reached into the glove box and pulled the gun out.
“Stick around for Hughie for as long as you can.” He looked at you with an oddly soft look, uncharacteristic of him and you didn’t like it but you could tell he was at least trying to let your words set in. You knew he cared for Hughie a lot, and he was kind of the only voice of reason Butcher seemed to have. It kept Butcher human in a way.
But you couldn’t be sentimental much longer after that.
The both of you got out of the car and they already knew you were coming. Some of the guards were already holding up their weapons and you raised up your hands as a wall of rock and dirt appeared between you and Butcher and the guards. Then with a pushing motion, the wall you created plunged forward and knocked all of the guards down.
When that happened, you already started to feel a little lightheaded. You supposed you weren’t completely at full capacity after the incident at Vought’s tower. But you couldn’t focus on that right now. You had to get Ben out of there. The sooner, the better.
You lifted a boulder and you threw it into the door, breaking a gaping hole into the building and you and Butcher came in. Butcher started shooting at even more of the guards. It was nice to know that even if he didn’t have much of a choice in this matter, he still had your back to a certain extent.
When you caught a glimpse of some people rushing down the hall across your path and you had a feeling you ought to follow them. You bit down on your bottom lip before you started running into that direction.
“What’s happening?” You heard someone call.
“It’s Soldier Boy. He’s trying to break free again. He’s already snapped the leather straps on one of his arms again.”
“Who the hell was watching him?!”
You didn’t care to hear the rest of that conversation because you knew they’d try to get Ben back into that vault. So you followed them and you slammed your fist against the floor.
“W-What was that?!”
“Quake! She’s here!” One of the scientists said and when you looked up you saw the look of terror on their faces. You smirked a little before you put your hands in the crack in the floor you created before you pulled your hands apart, thus splitting the floor open and they fell into the hole. You left it opened so they could at least try to get out on their own.
Then you ran to the other end of the hall, desperately looking for any sign of Ben.
You could feel something tickling your nose and rolling down and as you ran, you lifted a hand to your nose and looked down. You noticed the blood. “Fuck, not now.”
You shook it off and you rubbed your nose before you continued running. That was when you ran past a window where a light was beginning to glow. You opened the door and you saw that some scientists were frantically trying to keep a mask over Ben.
“Ben!” You exclaimed and you caught a glimpse of his gaze. Your eyes locked and then you diverted your attention to the scientists who were working but some of them went to you and they were coming towards you.
They were trying to corner you and you glanced around to see what exactly you could do but then you saw a scalpel. You picked it up and you started stabbing the scientists. As they cried in pain while gripping their arms or sides, you lifted another hand and twisted your wrist a little to try and take a chunk of the wall closest to them and you pushed them out of the room.
The last two scientists that were once hovering over Ben were coming at you. But then your vision was starting to get blurry no matter how hard you were trying to focus as they were coming at you. One of them tackled you to the ground and you were trying to fight them off with the scalpel.
One of them managed to take the scalpel from you and they held it up against your throat but then before you knew it, they went flying somewhere and you thought you heard some kind of crash. Sounded like one of them landed on a table or something, but you couldn’t really be sure.
But when you looked up, you saw Ben was the one hovering over you.
“Y/N, come on. Wake up. You can’t black out now.” You could hear his voice, hearing a twinge of concern and you knew he was right. This wasn’t over yet.
You could tell from the slight strain in his voice he must’ve gone through some sort of Hell of his own these past couple of days. But you couldn’t focus on that right now. It was getting harder to focus on anything but you started to get up and you felt Ben’s hand grip your arm as he basically dragged you up from the ground.
“How are you feeling?” He asked you and you nodded your head slightly, not wanting to move it too much because you felt like your head would explode if you did.
“Fine. Let’s get out of here.” You said and as you were rubbing your eyes to try and get them to focus again, Ben must’ve taken one of the doctor’s scrub pants because when you opened your eyes again, he had a pair of those light blue pants on and some poor guy was sitting there with nothing to cover his lower half.
You and Ben rushed out of the room and you could hear some gunshots.
“Come on, we have to find Butcher.” You said.
“Wait, you brought that asshole with you?” Ben asked.
“Ben, I had to. He was the only one that I could get to tell me where Mallory lived so I could even find this place. Can we talk about that later?” You said.
The two of you began running and that was when you saw a glimpse of Mallory trying to get out of the building and you glared, “Oh Hell no.”
Just as she made it outside, you rushed outside as well. Then you lifted your hands and several boulders appeared from the ground and you used them to crush each and every car that the woman could have possibly used to escape. There were about six vans, three cars, and two cargo vans that must’ve been used for the equipment they used to torture Ben. Every one of them were nothing but useless car parts now.
You saw Grace look back at you before she tried to run off and you clenched your fist and pulled your hand to yourself. Just as you did, the earth rose up and grasped Grace before pulling her to yourself. You rotated your wrist and the earth moved to make the old woman face you.
“I thought of all people, you’d know how much Soldier Boy meant to me. You even worked with me to bring Vought down just to prove they were the ones behind his whole so called death charade. To think you’d be one of the ones that would try to take him from me again.” You said and Mallory looked at you.
When we figured out what we needed to, we would have given him up.” Mallory said and you scoffed.
“If it were up to you, you would have given me a rotting carcass.” You continued.
“How far did you get, huh? What exactly have you found?” You asked and she shook her head.
“I haven’t found anything other than the Novichok because of Frenchie.” She said and you glared as you tightened your fist, causing the earth to act as an iron maiden, threatening to pierce the old woman’s body.
“I swear! Radiation does nothing but strengthen his energy blasts. Vapors just act as an anesthetic to keep him stabilized. That’s all I know.”
“Good… that’s the last thing you’ll ever find out about him.” You promised and with a snap of your fingers, the spikes went through Mallory’s body. She didn’t even have the chance to scream before the life left her eyes.
When you released the earth’s grip on her body, she plopped to the ground almost like a sack of potatoes. She was nothing but a bloody mess with holes in her clothes where her wounds were.
“Y/N! What did you do?!” Butcher called out.
When you turned around, you saw both Ben and Butcher walking forward. But everything that’s happened in the last several moments took a lot from you. The blurriness returned and that was the last you remembered.
Ben’s eyes widened when he saw you start to fall and he started running to you.
“Fucking Hell.” Ben said as he caught you just in time, knowing you must’ve overdone it. Your recovery time must’ve gotten longer since the tower. This whole rescue thing didn’t help at all.
“She bloody killed Mallory!” Butcher exclaimed and Ben glared.
“Like you’ve never killed anyone before.” Ben reminded.
Ben noticed Butcher went over to the woman and watched as Butcher sighed a little.
“She was ready to see her family though. She’d been ready for a long time.” Butcher said and Ben just let out a hum, not really interested as he looked down at you.
He put his hand on the pile point in your neck and let out a breath of relief. Then, Ben looked over at the building that had kept him the past several days. He carefully laid you down on the ground for a moment before he focused his energy to his center again. Afterwards, the next thing he knew there was another explosion and the building and everything inside was destroyed.
“You’ve gotten better at that, haven’t you?” Butcher said and Ben looked over at the man in the coat.
“I guess.” He said before Ben turned his attention back to you. He knelt down at your side before he took you into his arms again and he stood up. He felt the way your body leaned into his chest and he was honestly glad you found him. But he needed to get you some place safe so you could recover.
“You think she’ll be alright?” Butcher asked as he walked over but Ben could sense the sort of caution Butcher had.
“You know I’m not a ticking time bomb, right? Yeah, she’ll be okay. Just need to get her somewhere safe so she could rest up.” Ben said.
Butcher rubbed the back of his neck. A part of him didn’t want to help Soldier Boy since he would have killed Ryan if he had the chance, but aside from the threat you made, you were alright for a supe he supposed. You weren’t his favorite person in the world, but you did promise to keep Soldier Boy accountable and you said you’d stay away from everyone’s families if you got Soldier Boy back.
“Come on… I know a thing or two about stealing cars. I’ll give you a card and you can get her to a hotel to rest up.” Butcher said.
Ben looked up at Butcher, almost wondering if this was some kind of joke or if this was some trick. Could you blame him for being hesitant when the man turned on him back in the tower?
“Why? I didn’t kill Homelander and Y/N killed your little friend.” Ben said.
“If she can keep somebody like you in line when you can’t be killed, then we need her around. The world does. Just don’t let anyone here catch you around. Especially MM. He still wants to kill you.” Butcher said.
“Now are you coming or not?”
Ben was still skeptical about this whole thing, but he knew he didn’t have any other choice. So he nodded and he carried you out to Butcher’s car and the three of you rode somewhere to try and steal someone’s car from some gas station or something.
Ben was sitting down beside you on the bed while you rested. By that time, Ben had already used the card to buy himself some clothes so he wasn’t wandering around in scrub pants. He was wearing some t-shirt and some sweatpants and he had some socks on his feet.
Other than that, he hadn’t left your side. He wanted to make sure he was there for you whenever you’d wake up. Although he knew it may take a little longer than he wanted to. Still, it had been several hours since the both of you left Mallory’s little lab or whatever. It couldn’t be too much longer now, could it?
He gazed at your figure and he reached out to brush a stray hair away from your face. Then he moved to reach for the remote on the night stand so there would be some kind of background noise rather than the silence.
Ben looked over at the television and noticed some trailers for some new movies were out. He rolled his eyes a little. There were times where he got really tired of seeing supe movies. So Ben used the remote to try and find something worth watching. Then he saw a black and white film, something that took him back in time.
He recognized Clark Gable and Doris Day on the screen and it made him smile when he was able to at least recognize those faces, even if they weren’t exactly his favorite actors. The movie was apparently called Teacher’s Pet when he saw the title on the screen before it flashed away.
Ben started growing a little more interested in the old movie, there was something about it that felt more familiar to him. Maybe it was because it was something from a familiar time.
“You know, I loved Clark Gable back in the day.” Ben heard a familiar voice say and when he looked down, he saw your beautifully colored eyes opened and on the screen.
He smiled as he turned the volume down since the television switched to some adds now and he turned to face you, “You’re awake.”
“How long was I ou-“ He interrupted you with a kiss, unable to wait any longer.
He could hear you chuckling against his mouth and he slowly pulled away and he looked down at you, “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing…. I’m just glad to see you too.” He heard you say and he grinned before he cupped your face in the palm of his hand.
“You over did yourself again.” Ben stated.
“Twice.” You answered.
“I know. You wanna tell me about the tower?” He asked and you shook your head a little.
“Not much to tell. You went out the window, I went to panic mode that switched to some kind of rage mode. I’m surprised I was awake right after. I looked for you but realized I hat to run. Found some abandoned building to crash in and I crashed there for a while. The first two days I felt like I’d puke if I even thought about standing. By day three I was able to at least walk.” You said and Ben sighed.
“You really shouldn’t use your powers for a while.”
“Since when did you become a doctor?” He heard you ask and he saw your smile.
“I’d make a pretty shit doctor. But I’d rather not watch you black out again.” He admitted and you nodded before he felt you move closer to him, so Ben wrapped an arm around your smaller frame.
“What about you? How are you feeling?” Ben heard you question and he smiled a little. But then he remembered some pain killers or whatever other kind of drugs Butcher handed him before he went back to his little group.
“I’m fine. A hell of a lot better now that I’m away from that place. But here, take this. Butcher said it’s supposed to help with whatever migraine you might get.” He said and handed you some water and a couple of pills.
He watched you sit up and you took the pills before you started drinking some water.
“How long have I been out?” You finally asked him and Ben shrugged a little.
“Several hours.”
“So… what do we do from here?” He heard you ask and he chuckled a little.
“I thought you would have thought about it a little more. What’s the situation with your house? Couldn’t we just go back there?” Ben asked but then he watched you shake your head.
“No, Vought got to it and destroyed pretty much everything. Honestly, I think our best bet may be leaving the country.” You admitted and Ben frowned at that idea.
“You really think we have to go to that extreme? Mallory remained off the radar for several years and so did you, and you were able to stay in the states.” Ben stated, you hummed a little.
“Yeah, but I’m not sure if I can go into hiding again so soon. Who knows if Vought has people all over the country looking for me. Maybe even you if word were to get out that you’re alive.” You said.
“You act like Vought’s got a shit ton of snipers crawling all over the place.” Ben sighed and you shrugged.
“Who knows… you never know what Vought has up their sleeves. And I really don’t want to stick around and find out.” You said.
“If we’re out of the country for at least a year, maybe two. That way Vought thinks we’re out of the picture and it opens some sort of door for us to come back. You know they’re all about their fake deaths for supes they lose or force into retirement. Until then, maybe we can travel. It could be really fun.” You continued.
“Traveling.. might sound alright for a while. At least until things quiet down a bit. People already think I’m dead because of Vought I’m sure.” Ben commented and he watched you nod, confirming his statement.
“So where do you think we should go first?” You asked and Ben felt you place a hand on his own, causing him to grin as he intertwined your fingers.
“As long as we aren’t in Russia, I’ll be happy.” Ben reminded.
“Well, I kind of figured that would be a given… what about Ireland?” You suggested and Ben thought about it for a moment.
“You know what? I think that sounds like a great idea.”
Ben watched the way you smiled softly and he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your forehead while you snuggled closer to him. He looked down at you, loving the fact that you were in his arms again.
“Thank you.. for coming and saving me.” He whispered and you hummed softly.
“Ben, that’s not anything to thank me for. When you love someone, you’d do anything to make sure they’re safe. I lost you once when you went out of the country, then again at Vought when Queen Maeve pushed you out of that window. I couldn’t lose you again after I just got you back.” You insisted.
Ben’s gaze softened. If he wasn’t mistaken, that may have even been the first time you said you loved him, even if it was in some sort of descriptive way. He knew you loved him based on the letters you’ve written him over the years, but he’s never heard you actually say it.
“God, you’re nothing like Crimson Countess, are you?” Ben chuckled and you rolled your eyes.
“I don’t think I could hate you nearly as much as she did.” You replied, he hummed as he looked down at you, observing your features.
“My world would crumble if you hated me half as much as she did. Then it would completely disappear if anything were to happen to you, if I lost you.” He admitted.
There was a change in the dynamic between the two of you in that moment, a shift in the atmosphere in a way. It was something the two of you hadn’t been able to sit and relish in ever since he came back. The two of you had been so preoccupied with his mission of killing the members of Payback, then the Homelander fiasco, then you rescuing him from Mallory’s lab.
“You know… when I woke up and heard the TV… a part of me wondered if everything that’s happened this past week and a half has been a dream.” You admitted.
“How do you mean?” Ben said gently.
“I mean… You’ve been gone for so long… I spent years in my house writing all of those letters. I’ve spent countless nights dreaming of what it would be like if you were to come back. This whole endeavor… A part of me thought after Mallory’s lab, that was just the end of another dream. A part of me wonders if I’ll ever get over the surrealism.”
Ben chuckled, “You really must’ve worn yourself out if you’re still thinking it was all a dream after this whole time.”
“Well, Ben… why don’t you show me how real all of this is?” You asked him, then a smirk started to appear on Ben’s face.
“With pleasure.” Ben said as he leaned down for a kiss. A kiss that would surely take your breath away and show you that this was reality. That this would be your new reality for the rest of your life and that you’d never lose him again.
After so many decades of being away from Ben, you knew what it was like to wander the earth as if you’d lost your other half. You knew how it felt to be so alone for so many years. You’ve felt out of place for so long but with Ben in your grasp again, you felt whole, complete. It was a happiness you hadn’t felt in so long and you were glad you finally had the man you loved beside you again and you couldn’t wait to see how the next several decades would treat the both of you.
It would certainly be an adventure, one you were more than eager to share with Ben for the rest of your life.
Tag List:
@deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373 @nancymcl @jackles010378 @hobby27 @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @prettyinplaid94 @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @capricxnt @k-slla @david-tennant-obsessed-blog @deangirl96 @mimaria420 @ashdoctor @muhahaha303 @angelbabyyy99
#jensen ackles#soldier boy#soldier boy jensen#soldier boy x you#jensen ackles soldier boy#soldier boy the boys#soldier boy x y/n#soldier boy fanfiction#soldier boy ff#soldier boy fic#soldier boy x reader#the boys ff#jensen the boys#amazon the boys#the boys#the boys amazon#jensen ackles the boys
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thinking about Sam again and his collection of Payback comic books in his room and his Homelander blanket and do you think he and Luke used to play hero growing up? Do you think Luke would be Solider Boy and Sam would be Black Noir, and that Luke absolutely denies it if asked but maybe he chose his hero name [Golden Boy] because he wanted to be like Solider Boy and it reminded him of his brother and when they were kids? Do you ever just think about the Sam and Luke being close as kids and make yourself sad???
#luke riordan#sam riordan#golden boy#gen v#luke gen v#sam gen v#gen v amazon#the boys#payback#payback the boys#soldier boy#black noir#soldier boy the boys#black noir the boys#ew its the mod
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I haven't drawn any characters' fanart in a while, BUT, you know, Soldier Boy is a real KILLER!
I just can't help drawing him!
And I want to thank @theboystv for the very good work! love you guys sooooo muuuuch!! looking forward for the new series
#the boys#the boys tv#soldier boy#soldier boy fanart#the boys fanart#the boys series#soldier boy the boys#the boys soldier boy
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#soldier boy#jensen ackles#the boys series#the boys tv#the boys season 3#the boys#jensen ackles soldier boy#soldier boy the boys
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→ Different World, Different Words.
gif credit.
pairing: soldier boy x fem!reader.
rating: explicit.
warning: soldier boy pov, ben's being a fluffy yet dirty bastard, ben's being smitten with you, domestic fluff, dirty talk, fingering, size kink if you squint, swearing a lot of swearing, doesn't necessarily follow the canon plotline.
word count: 866.
summary: ben's trying to fit in this fucked-up, new world.
→ masterlist | ao3
“So it means a pussy.”
“For the millionth time, Ben, No!”
He shakes his head, unconvinced, “A man who does the most motherfucking cringey stuff to impress a chick. In my times we were used to call him a pussy.”
Ben puts the dish he just rinsed in the drying rack then takes the plate full of soap she just washed. The topic of modern slang was brought up at the dinner table a few minutes ago, when Ben was trying to literally impress her how adaptive and quick he is.
This time she's the one to shake her head, biting adorably on her lower lip, “Well, yeah but—” She snaps her head to the side to look at him. He's huge compared to her, almost covering the entire sink with his figure. A wide smile on her face, “Wait a minute, did you just say cringey.”
“Yeah, so?” He glances at her from the corner of his green eyes. He could've sworn he saw pride in her eyes. His heart skips.
“Where did you learn that from?” She asks teasingly, proceeding with doing the rest of the dishes.
“Urban dictionary.” She makes a snoring sound, and his eyebrows knit in confusion, “What? That whining cum-guzzler told me about it.”
She wiggles her eyebrows, lips puckering up amusedly, and he feels wildly tempted to crash them with his lips.
“Oh, poor Hughie, must've been fed up with your pussy this and pussy that.” She lets out a giggle, “Can't blame him tho. The things come out of that tongue of yours can be so gross sometimes.”
“Diffrent times, different words.” He says, “Still don't make sense to me.”
Ben then raises an eyebrow, watching her drying her hands with a towel when she's done, he follows her when he is too. He hums playfully, lips curling up into a mischievous grin. “Hmh, last time I checked, you liked the things I do with this tongue of mine.”
A deep crimson colour smudges her cheeks, she looks at him with adorable, upset face. “Well, yeah, it has some perks.”
“Oh, yeah?” With his strong arms, he lifts her effortlessly up to the countertop. Her face meets his, her cheeks are still red despite everything. “How about going to bed...” He pecks her lips, once, twice. “and let me fuck this pretty pussy nice and slow,” In a matter of seconds she's chasing his lips for more, “and show you the wonders my tongue is capable of.” He caves in to her want and gives her a kiss. Long and devouring, his tongue is already in her mouth, exploring and tasting, and swallowing her moans.
“Oh, God.” She breathes against his lips, “Ben I can barely walk thanks to last night's fucking. I don't have your fucking supe stamina.” She keeps on kissing him, nevertheless. Nibbling and sucking on his lower lip in such a teasing way, while her small hands cup his bearded cheeks.
Ben groans deeply, burying his face in her neck. “You don't have to do anything, just take what I give you.” His hand slides in between their frames to find her clothed clit. He smirks, filthy little slut; the thin layer of her panties is practically drenched. “Oh, baby, sure you don't wanna let me fuck you dumb tonight too?”
She lets out a pathetic moan when his fingertip presses to her erected clit. She holds onto his strong biceps for support as he proceeds taunting her, “Hmh, bet you can't wait to squeeze my cock empty in your fucking slutty pussy.”
“Ah, Ben, p-please...!” She whimpers, hips rolling against his fingers for more fraction.
“Shhh, I got you.” With one firm move, Ben rips her panties away.
“Ben!” She chides, “Quit doing that to my clothes!”
He fakes a sympathized hum before he buries two fingers in her cunt. “I'll buy you new ones.” A devious grin adorns his mouth, “Though you don't need any around me.”
With half-lidded eyes, she glares at him. And his heart swoons at the cute, angry face she's giving him. “God, you're the worst.” She huffs and kisses him furiously. A deep chuckle rumbles within his chest, his fingers curl and twist inside of her drawers, her arousal glistening wet on his knuckles.
“Ben, fuck!” Her thighs squeeze shut on his fingers when shivers her orgasm out. “Fuck, Ben, st-stop it's too much!” She begs him as he fucks her through her high.
She rests her forehead on his chest when he pulls out. “You're a dick.” Her voice is muffled by his shirt.
He laughs amusedly, “Though you like it.”
“I like your dick, not you being one.” She gazes up at him, giggling. “You just enjoy fucking me up.”
“Yes, I do.” He says, a brutal grin on his lips, “I love ruining you.”
She roughly pushes him away with her foot on his chest, he raises an eyebrow at her as she jumps onto the floor, still quivering from her orgasm.
She glances at his bewildered face over her shoulder, giving him a wink, “Then stick to your words and ruin me in bed, tiger.”
Ben follows her with a wolfish grin on his face.
#soldier boy imagine#soldier boy x you#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy#soldier boy fanfiction#soldier boy x female reader#soldier boy the boys#the boys season 3#the boys soldier boy#soldier boy smut#jensen ackles x reader#jensen ackles characters#jensen ackles#jensen ackles smut#jensen ackles fanfiction#the boys fanfiction#the boys fanfic#the boys x you
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Power Play (Soldier Boy x Reader)
Summary: So, you lost focus and had a consensual workplace relationship. It happens all the time. Maybe not quite like this.
Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. Crazy ass 80s Vought debauchery. I might be a little rusty, but it was fun getting back into writing readerfics after two months🖤 Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.
Word count: 1.5k
Warnings: Power imbalance, cheating (Soldier Boy’s with Crimson Countess). Mentions of drug use. Soldier Boy is his own warning. Sexually explicit content involving elements of forced intox, semi-public sex, breeding kink.
You were dizzy. With Vought’s investor gala rapidly approaching, you spent the better part of your day camped out in your office, flipping back and forth through your rolodex to call and confirm catering, entertainment—you still couldn’t believe the board of directors actually approved Duran Duran’s booking fee—and transportation, off the top of your head. You already told Stan Edgar you were taking the following week off, which he had no qualms about—so long as the gala went off without a hitch.
You nearly jumped out of your skin when you were interrupted by a knock at your office door, which you’d left open in an effort to be available in the lead up to the event.
“Don’t tell me Edgar’s got you working tonight,” Soldier Boy said, walking in when he saw he had your attention.
“The most important night of the year is less than a week away and I still have a to-do list as long as your dick, so, yeah.”
He huffed out a laugh. “Must be pretty busy then.”
“How about you? Where’s Countess?” you asked.
Soldier Boy probably would have sought you out even if Crimson Countess were around, but from what you’d been hearing through Vought’s extensive grapevine, they were in yet another rough patch. Though, it seemed to you like their relationship was one long, extremely rough patch with some calm once in a blue moon. You weren’t afraid to admit to yourself that you ate up the gossip of their relationship like candy, especially when the other members of Payback—including Countess herself—would rant to Edgar about it. Since your office was right next to his, and most supes had little to no sense of subtlety, you could hear just about everything.
“She’s at one of those wildlife charity things, pandas or some bullshit.” He rolled his eyes. “Bitched at me because I wouldn’t go. She won’t be back until Friday.”
“Soldier Boy, I can’t just—“
“Sure you can. I mean, I’m technically your boss too, aren’t I?” he asked. “So, I say there’s no harm in taking a ten, fifteen minute break. Relieve some stress.”
You sighed. It had been a while since you actually got up from your desk. “Alright. Fifteen minutes, tops.”
He grinned. “Now we’re talking. You keep that minibar stocked?”
“Pick your poison.”
“Whiskey?”
“Sure.”
At least, you were pretty sure. The minibar in your office served as a nice gesture for the variety of people who’d come into your office for meetings related to all of the aspects of event planning you were in charge of. Over the past few weeks, though, you’d been reaching for bottles of whatever you could find to relieve the stress. Powdered your nose every so often, but tried not to make that a habit—not that you blamed your coworkers who did. Working at Vought was brutal and demanding, but hell, who else got to work with superheroes? Especially handsome, smarmy assholes who knew just how to fuck the lingering thoughts of any deadline or event planning out of your mind if you played your cards right.
He handed you a shot glass. “What should we toast to?”
“To taking next week off.”
“Yeah? What’ve you got planned?”
You threw back your shot. “Nothing.”
“That’s no fun. How does a few days in Miami sound?”
You nearly scoffed. Of course he could make something like that happen on such short notice. For forty years running he was America’s superhero and Vought’s cash cow. After a night of schmoozing at the investor gala, he could very well clear out his schedule and fuck off for a week of sun, sand, and sex, too.
“I might need some convincing.”
“Then make yourself comfortable,” he said, walking back to the minibar to pour another shot for each of you. Almost comical, he’d have to drink the whole bottle and then some to feel the same way you did after two shots.
You glanced at the open door. “Someone might see.”
“Are you gonna make me repeat myself?”
Sparing the door one more glance, you worked at unbuttoning your blouse, tossing it aside. You shimmied out of your skirt and let it fall to the floor.
“Heels stay on,” he said, his back to you. “Everything else off. Everything.”
With a hesitant huff, you unhooked your bra and pulled off your panties, throwing them in his direction when he turned around with the shot glasses. You made yourself comfortable on top of your desk, pushing some of your belongings aside to accommodate you.
He whistled lowly as you quickly finished off the second shot he gave you. “Look at you sitting pretty for me.” His green eyes burned a hole through you, though your gaze was fixed on the prominent bulge in his pants. He brought his shot glass to your lips. “Drink up, sweetheart.”
And you did, forcing the alcohol down as your vision blurred with tears at the unrelenting burning in the back of your throat. Felt some whiskey dripping from the corners of your mouth when you drained the shot glass. He collected the excess from your lips with his thumb, sucking it clean as he kept his eyes locked with yours.
“See how much fun we have together?” he asked, leaning over you until you laid back on top of your desk. “Could do that all next week.”
He kissed you, hard and mean like you needed him to. Perfect teeth that caught your bottom lip between them for a moment before releasing. Whiskey on his tongue that went to your head even though you knew he could hardly feel it. Rough hands feeling up your breasts, giving your nipples a harsh tug that made you moan in his mouth.
“You’re soaked,” he said, his voice husky as he rubbed his fingers between your slick folds with tantalizingly slow strokes. “If you wanted it, all you had to do was ask.”
“Fuck,” you whispered.
“What was that?”
You groaned in frustration. “Just fuck me already.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice.”
His mouth was on yours again, nearly distracting you from the sound of a zipper, the your gut clenching in anticipation as he pulled his cock from his pants.
It’d been a while since you had to brace yourself to take him, but you were wet, and maybe a little more than tipsy, so your body gave little resistance when he slid his cock inside you. Though, if Soldier Boy were anything, it was a guy who took what he wanted anyway, giving you hardly a second to get used to the feeling of how his cock stretched your pussy before he was pounding into you with harsh, unforgiving thrusts that made you grip the edge of your desk.
Sometimes you forgot how strong he was. Hell, so did he, and there was little else you could do but lay there and take what he gave you. In all honesty, it was nice letting someone else take charge after having to hold it together all day. Let him fuck the stress out of you and replace it with all the aches and bruises that came with having sex with the strongest man on earth.
“Harder,” you forced out, pushing that damn rolodex onto the floor.
“I go any harder, I’m gonna break you in half, and I don’t wanna do that until I’ve got you locked away in a hotel room for a week.”
“What are you gonna do to me?”
“Whatever the fuck I want. Not like I don’t already.”
You moaned. “Soldier Boy—”
“I’m not pulling out, so you better be on the pill or say your damn prayers,” he growled, his hot breath kissing your skin. You were on the pill, but nevertheless your hips bucked at his words, pussy clenching around his cock. “Oh shit, you want that, don’t you?”
“Yes—oh my god!” you cried out, muscles cramping as your orgasm pulsed through you, pleasure stealing your breath, choking you gently enough to leave you dizzy. “Yesyesyes—fuck!” Your heart was beating so fast you thought it was going to explode in your chest, especially as he kept mercilessly pounding into you, chasing his own release.
He soon came with a groan, his cock twitching inside you as he bottomed out, practically knocking the wind out of you with a particularly hard thrust.
You felt empty and sticky when he pulled out, and you didn’t want to think about the poor soul who was gonna be cleaning the mess you and him left behind the following morning, because you sure as hell weren’t in any shape to clean up the cum that was leaking out of you and onto the floor.
You put your hands on your chest, trying to catch your breath as he stood over you. The guy hardly broke a sweat, and you felt like you just ran the New York City Marathon. Super stamina. God fucking bless America.
“Hey,” he said, waving his hand in front of your face. “You good?”
“Sure,” you managed to answer. “Except now I don’t know how I’m gonna walk out of here, let alone get home later.”
“The ride up to the 99th is quicker. And if you need more convincing about Miami—“
You pursed your lips, considering the work you still had left to do before you could reasonably call it a night. But you were tired, and admittedly drunk, and Soldier Boy was already hard again. “I might.”
#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy the boys#the boys x reader#the boys#the boys amazon#the boys tv#the boys soldier boy#the boys imagine#soldier boy imagine#soldier boy smut#im a feminist i promise#but do you ever think about how that man could literally break you in half if he wanted to?
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if yall want to know me 😗
#soldier boy#soldier boy/ben#soldier boy the boys#the boys amazon prime#the boys series#the boys soldier boy#jensen ackles#jensen ackles soldier boy
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FREQUENCY: Episode 1 - A Soldier Boy Story
FREQUENCY: A Soldier Boy Story
EPISODE 1: “Frequency”
WORD COUNT: 5,118
PAIRING: Soldier Boy X Reader
WARNINGS: (NSFW) Mentions of suicide, mental illness, rape, and self harm. Foul language. Mentions of sex, or sexual innuendos.
A/N: This story is dark, and covers mature themes. The main character, as well as other major characters, are offensive in nature, and may offend some people. Please peruse with caution, and remember that this is fiction. Reader discretion is advised. Please message me for any questions, comments or concerns.
This is introductory, we do not meet Soldier Boy just yet. Please excuse any grammar or spelling errors.
Masterlist
I was pumped full of V at Vought Laboratories when I was born. My mother took a thousand dollar bribe for some dope in exchange for her newborn daughter. They placed me in a NICU unit, hooked my veins up, and hoped for the best.
The scientists were worried at first. I showed no physical symptoms of compound V. There were no laser eyes, no fire aura, no electricity flowing from my fingertips. They kept their tabs on me. Ran test after test. Colic. They said I had colic. I cried over everything. There was no consolation. They thought I was a lost cause. Ready to pretend like this test subject never existed. A late term abortion ex-utero. Thank God a few of the doctors started catching on.
It was door slams. Creaking floors. Burners boiling. Cleaning supplies. Microwave lunches. Music from a few floors down. The overhead lights. Open windows. High blood pressure. A baby crying. Tuna fish sandwiches. Bleh. Spoiled milk. Fireworks. Gunshots from the Police Academy in upstate New York. Ship horns. Cigarette smoke. Low blood sugar. An earthquake in Siberia. Nuclear detonation testing in the Pacific ocean. Car horns. Rush hour.
See, they didn’t notice my abnormalities because they weren’t seen by the naked eye. They weren’t paralyzing mind tricks. Compound V took every ounce of my five senses and shot them up with gasoline, tequila, adrenaline, cocaine. A high voltage defibrillator to my nervous system. As if my sinuses were stapled open. As if my eardrums were plucked out by tweezers. I heard everything, even with my ears plugged. I saw everything, even with my eyes closed. I tasted everything, even with my mouth shut. I was everything, everywhere, all at once, and for an infant, that can be overwhelming.
As I grew older, I was still kept in the lab until they were fully aware of my capabilities. Until they had studied every strand of DNA in my body.
I didn’t have super strength, I didn’t have superpowers. They made sure of that. One time they strapped me to a chair, sticking ekgs on my chest. I passed out before they could even run a test. I could never stand velcro.
Frequency is what I was called. My supe name, at least. They called me Freaq for short. Which I guess if you think about it, isn’t really a lie.
My hearing was my most valuable asset. What’s this radio frequency? They’d ask. Can you make out the voice in this? Is this a bomb or just a backpack? Listen in on this meeting. I need collateral. We have to know everything that’s said. Is this person lying? Is that person lying? Keep in mind, these were the tasks I was given at around six or seven. It was easier for them then too because I was so small. I would slide into the air vents and stay as quiet as I could, absorbing as much information as possible. I’d spew it back to them like a pawn.
Teen years the work really started. They’d be strong in their threats to others. People would get hurt. People would have their lives ruined. I’d spy on them for weeks, getting all the information I could. Listening in on their most intimate conversations. Their most profound, and personal moments. I’d spew it all back to Vought. And they’d use what I’d told them as collateral.
Thanks to my hearing, thanks to my sight, I was able to snipe better than any experienced veteran. I never even needed to use the scope. For the most part I would snap my fingers, or click my tongue, and sense the vibration of the objects around me. I’d shoot whatever I needed to right between the eyes. Everytime. To this day I still can't get the sound of hot, metal rounds, piercing through brain matter out of my head. Me stealing the life of a defenseless victim who unluckily got caught up in the mess. Even when I plugged my ears, screaming, nothing kept me safe from the deafening silence from their no longer beating heart. I was never caught.
I had been cursed. By God? By Vought? Who knows. Mothers mourning the loss of their stillborn child. Smelling the cancer in people who walked by me on the street, on the way to pick up their young child from school. Gang violence. Break ups. A father beating his son to a pulp for not taking out the trash that day. Suicide. A young woman, screaming, begging for him to stop. This takes a toll on a young kid. No one should be forced to listen to the struggles of others, we have enough to deal with on our own. Hell, I’m sure if I focused hard enough, I could've heard the sound of my mother crying out to me, sullen and alone, from her perch on a rundown curbside.
I had lost it, as expected. Cutting, acting out, pathetic suicide attempts. It got bad enough to where they had to isolate me off somewhere in Appalachia. Somewhere I could enjoy the peace and quiet. The nurturing lull of nature. Waterfalls, and animals, and the rustle of trees in the Eastern winds. Native music, and arts and crafts underneath a big, red harvest moon. I could see every crater out that far in the mountains. There was no light pollution. That was always the best part. If I looked hard enough, sometimes I could see Saturn's rings without a telescope. Of course they’d still call my handlers whenever they needed me, they weren’t that concerned for my wellbeing. But hey, at least I no longer had to deal with the sounds of the city on my off days.
I had learned to resent Vought, which is understandable, and honestly a given. I mean what did they expect? I was cursed, to say the least. Every day was torture, and unpredictabe, even when I was all the way out in West Virginia. Some nights I’d hear a distant shotgun fire, and torpedo into the heart of a beautiful buck, with a sleepy, quiet family waiting for him a few hundred yards away in a clearing.
I wanted nothing more than to watch these people crash and burn. To listen to each and every one of them take their last breath. The only deaths I could, or would ever enjoy. The sweetest sound I’d ever heard. I could get off to it. And I would surely avenge that. That was a promise.
After I turned eighteen I did end up getting a place back in the city. Which is where I am now. I cope with the overstimulation in my desperation for revenge. A desperation so wild and intense I would do anything. I would do absolutely anything to get what I want.
The Homelander would tour the labs after his graduation every once and a while as I was growing up. He’d be intimidating. Stiff, and brooding. No one would ever amount to the power he held. None of us would ever become the specimen that he was. I’d look up at him with innocent, wide eyes. His body always sounded different than everyone else's. His organs moved with a horsepower. It was like his body took diesel. No one's insides ever sounded like his. I could feel the vibration of his cells dividing from half a mile away. He was so enchanting to a little gifted girl like me.
“What’s this one?”
“Heightened senses, Sir.”
“All five?”
“Yes. We find her hearing very promising.”
He had hummed in response. Staring back at me with an emptiness I’d get to know very well. He had only gotten worse since then.
After I had moved back to New York, Vought would still use me on occasion, but for the most part they just saw me as damaged goods. I was invited to parties, and events multiple times, and got paraded around like a fucking circus freak. Advisors would bestow me upon rich donors. “Ooh, let me stand across the room! I want you to guess what I’m saying.” I’d shake my head. There was no “guessing”. It was a stupid game if you ask me. They could have stood twenty miles away and it still wouldn't be much of a challenge.
I had felt him before I heard him.
“Repetitive, huh?”
I didn't even have to look at the donor across the room to know he was saying "orange". He had the audacity to whisper too. Your money paid for this, I thought. Don’t you have a little faith in me being more than a party trick?
“Yes, actually.” I said, turning around to see the symbol of patriotism.
“I didn’t know you had moved back to the city.”
I looked at him with the same eyes I did all those years ago, and he still stared back at me just as broken.
“Yeah, I’ve been here for a few months now.”
He placed a hand on my lower back. My skin tingling from the brush of his augmented fingertips. He walked me over to one of the large windows that overlooked the skyline. I had worn a tight dress, which he had taken notice of.
“You’re not so little anymore.”
I had laughed at that.
“If I’m honest I can’t remember the last time I felt like it.”
He looked at me with a gleam of recognition. Realizing we weren’t so different. Sure, he could break my spine if he clapped too hard, but we were both stripped of the innocence we so desperately needed. John and I were never friends, we were just two children starved of loving parental affection.
And now, a few years later, I sit perched on his lap. My legs falling off either side of his sturdy frame. His hands don't touch me. But he is smiling softly. His eyes glazed over and heavy. His nose rubs mine as I whisper to him. My hips moving up and down on the heat of his crotch.
“Do you like what I’m wearing?”
He tilts his head down, his thumbs sliding across the trim of my black lace underwear. He hums, a goofy smile spreading across his face.
“I do,” I brush my lips against his, his teeth catching on the skin of my cupid's bow. “Although, I can’t help but think there is an ulterior motive here.”
My eyes shoot open, glaring at him. He's still smiling at me.
“I needed you…” I’m an awful liar.
He takes a deep breath in through his nostrils. Placing two big hands under my ass while he fixes his posture on the chair. He cradles the back of my head, lacing rough fingers into my hair. Pulling me back until I’m looking him in the eyes.
“What do you want?” He asks plainly. I sigh, rolling my eyes, trying to pry myself out of his grip. “You know this doesn’t work on me.”
He pulls me tighter, my hair follicles hanging on to my scalp by sheer luck. I whimper, the feeling knocking the breath out of me for a second.
“You come up here to see me, of all people, wearing this pretty little get up.”
He uses his other hand to pull my lower half closer into his, wrapping his arm around my waist. My ribs could turn to dust under this vice grip.
“You know what I’m here to ask for.”
“We’ve been over this so many times now.” He tsks at me. “Tell me what’s in it for me, and I’ll consider it.”
I glare at him. This routine is like clockwork by this point. I come to him with a plan for revenge and he shoots me down everytime. I know he agrees with me, I know he wants it just as bad as I do, but this is his leverage. He can be so fucking evil.
“Does the idea of getting back at these people not give you a hard on?”
He laughs at me, releasing his vice grip. I pull myself off of him, walking over to my jeans discarded on the floor.
“Now why would I, of all people, want to get back at Vought?”
I pull my tight jeans up, one leg at a time. He walks over to me, looking down as I button my pants.
“You would be fine without them. Fuckin’ buddhist monks have your photo up at shrines in the himalayas for Christs sake.”
I walk past him, grabbing my shirt from off the ground. He slaps my ass as I pass by.
“I’ll think about it.” He suggests. I roll my eyes- he won’t.
I pull my hair out of the neckline of my shirt. He stands in front of me, his gloved fingers pulling out my necklace. He adjusts it so the clasp is back where it needs to be. I look up at him through my lashes.
“Just the scientists that worked with Vogelbaum.” I whisper.
He brings his hand up to my chin, pinching it with his thumb. He places an out of character, gentle, chaste kiss to my lips.
“...And Stan Edgar, and all the other top Vought executives…” He teases.
“No!” I pout.
“Yes,” He taunts. “And last time I checked you are perfectly capable of taking these people out all by yourself, one at a time, without ever getting caught.”
He's trying to pull it out of me. He knows why I need his help. He’s so smug. He wants to hear me say it.
“Why do you really want my help?” He torments.
I sigh, moving to grab my purse from off the chair in the corner of his living room. He stops me, gripping my wrist tight into his hand. I glare at him. Anything but this, I think. I would never beg him for anything…but I do.
“The gala…in the Summer,” I mumble, defeated. “Everyone will be there, even the scientists.”
“Ah, yes, the gala. Being applauded for their efforts in the creation of Temp V.” He smiles. “That wasn’t so hard was it?”
I shake my head, making my way back over to his front door. He doesn’t stop me this time, too satisfied in his successful grilling.
“One of us has lasers for eyes, John, and it’s not me.”
“Why would I want to ruin my own party?”
Before I leave I turn to him, pointing my finger. My eyes welling up with tears. Why does he do this? Hes been fucked over by Vought more than I have.
“All of them are going to be there at the same time. In the same building. We could end this, we could fucking destroy these monsters, once and for all.”
He glowers at me.
“Compound V made me a hero.” He argues.
“Compound V made you despicable,” I counter. “You’d finally be a real man without them.”
I open the door, him tripping at my heels.
“Vought made me a God.”
“Made you a sad fuckin’ excuse for one. Come find me when you grow a pair of balls.”
I slam the door in his face.
I met Billy Butcher at a speakeasy a little over a year ago. He was downing a bottle of whiskey at the bar. It was only 2PM.
“William, I’m assuming,” I reached my hand out for a shake. “A little early for the bottle don't you think?”
He looked down at my gesture, ignored it, then slammed his booze back on the counter.
“Freak, I'm assuming?” He had added an obnoxious emphasis to the ‘K’.
I nodded, pursing my lips. Extending my awkward, unshook hand back into my pocket.
He reeked, and I mean, reeked. His insides had smelt like a nuclear bomb had gone off. His liver was already in the later stages of decomposition, to say the least. His eyes were sunken in, and dark around the edges. Irritated too. Like he'd been rubbing them raw.
I took note of his entire presence, leaning over to the left a tad to take in all sides of his bloated, depressed body. I looked closer. His right ear was oozing what looked like old blood. It was black, like tar. It didn’t smell like blood though. It was pungent and harsh, almost similar to ammonia- radiation, maybe? The nuclear bomb inside him, I considered.
“You have black rot coming out of your ear,” I stated plainly. He had reached his hand over to wipe it. “It’s disgusting, whatever it is. I’ve never smelt anything like that before. You should really think about getting that checked out.”
He ignored me, picking up a napkin, and wiping his tar-coated hand on it.
“Let's get down to business, ey?”
“Alright.” I added. Breathing through my mouth wouldn’t have helped either, I thought.
“Me and the boys are going to Herogasm.”
“Congratulations. I’d recommend cleaning those ears out before you go.” I said, unimpressed.
He rolled his eyes, then looked around the room. No one was in there besides a bartender, and an old man asleep at a rounded booth. He leaned in closer to me.
That's when I caught it- a familiar scent. I couldn’t put my finger on it. A certain chemical compound I remember smelling often during my recent visits to the tower.
“Look, to make a long story short, I got ten grand with your name on it, and a party infested with obnoxious supes. I need you to sit at high ground, and keep watch.”
“Why don’t you get one of your boys to do it?” I grill.
“None of ‘em have aim like you, sweetheart.” He said it with such a shit-eating grin.
I rolled my eyes, “I’m flattered, truly.”
He took a deep breath, getting even closer, I could feel his hot breath on my ear.
“We’re going to be...taking him out.”
I looked at him, hard. I squinted my eyes. Listening in on his slow, heavy heartbeat. His unrelenting, static blood pressure. He wasn’t lying, I thought. He knew better than to anyway.
“Good luck with that,” I chuckled, beginning to stand up to leave. Had he lost his mind? I thought. I didn’t have the time for this. Plus, thinking hard on it, I didn’t even know if I had wanted John to die. I had people to get revenge on, y’know?
“We have a weapon,” He added, yanking my arm back down, nearly pulling it out of its socket. “The same one that killed Soldier Boy.”
The blood had rushed out of my face then. He really was serious. I looked around, trying to focus on anything, but my thoughts were racing, and my eyes had gone cloudy.
“Want to know something even crazier?” He probed. “The weapon is Soldier Boy. The cunt was still alive. Had to fight a handful of Ivans to get the bastard out.”
“That's impossible,” I laughed, wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans. “Soldier Boy died in Nicaragua.”
“Ten thousand big ones for a few hours of your time, sweetheart.” He smiled.
I swallowed hard, grabbing his bottle from off the counter and taking a big swig.
“You have to make me a promise,” I held my finger in his face. “If homelander dies, you and your boys have to help me finish something.”
He put his hand out for a shake.
“Anything you need.” He grinned.
“Anything I need if he dies.” I nodded along, grabbing his hand, my mind off worrying, my eyes glazed over with fear.
“Anything you need when the cunt dies.”
And that’s when I had smelled it, the Temp V. My eyes widened at him. Now that explained why his organs were rotting. The bastard had been shooting up liquid radiation into his veins in a lame attempt to put up an equal fight. His grip tightened around mine, threatening to shatter my wrist.
“I’ll give you the address, you’ll need your own car. Don’t be seen by anyone.” He declared, beginning to stand up from his stool.
“I wasn't born yesterday,” I mocked. “And by the way, if you do any more of that Temp V, you can go ahead and sign your death certificate.”
As we all know, that plan never worked. Homelander survived, and Soldier Boy is off somewhere frozen solid, I’m assuming. I never ended up getting the chance to see either of them that day, my shitty car ended up breaking down on the side of the road only twenty miles out of the city. Maybe it was for the best, I thought. A lot of people died that day.
And so here I am, a year later, still willing to help him, but now for a different reason. If John wasn’t going to help me with my plan, Butcher and the boys surely will.
Butcher had told me to meet him at a sketchy apartment building in the Bronx, so here I was. Looking around, there isn't much to see. Piles of trash and hoards of rancid homeless people litter the streets. Gross, I think. Why can’t the city grant these invalids a communal shower or something? Doesn’t the mayor know some people can practically smell atoms?
Before I buzz in for him, I catch the wind and listen for their lingering voices upstairs. They are on the roof, and I think by the heartbeats I can count four- no- five. There are five of them, and one of them is definitely a woman. Her heart is delicate, small. But pumped full of V? I think. It thumps with an exertion only jacked supes would understand. Sounds like a panic attack waiting to happen, if you ask me.
“Any of you ever use one of these before?” A voice asks.
“Eh, maybe a rifle but not a scope.” Someone replies, an accent thick...present.
“Frenchie, hasn’t she had combat training?”
“Combat training, yes, but not a fucking sniper.”
“Butcher, would you come over here please? Hughie, would you grab him?”
A giant group of idiots, I think. Maybe this wasn’t the greatest idea after all. I pull my hands into a finger gun and shoot it into my open mouth. This is going to be a long night.
I walk over to the entrance, looking down at my phone. Butcher is taking too long to answer me. I slap the side of the code box, listening to the stops on the inside. A thicker metal, and rusted too. But I can still make it out. 1111? Really? No wonder everyone gets robbed on this side of town.
Typing in the code, I begin to saunter my way upstairs. I'm slouched over and panting by the time I reach the top floor. Man, it’s times like these where I wish I could’ve been V-blessed with some fucking stamina. Fuck you Vought. I slip my way out onto the rooftop. Everyone's heads fly around to see me as I walk towards the group.
“Could you guys be any fucking louder?” I ask, walking right up to Butcher. He smiles down at me.
“Glad to see you’re in a good mood this evening.”
I roll my eyes, “Too bad I could smell your insides rotting from half a mile away.” I pat him on the shoulder as I walk by, heading towards the man at the edge of the roof with a rifle.
“Butcher, what the fuck?” The scrawny one asks.
“He doesn’t bring too many girls around, huh?” I say.
“Who the fuck is this?” The French one questions.
Butcher smiles as I go up to the man holding the gun. I shoo him away, squatting down, and placing my finger on the trigger. I squint my eyes and look down the scope.
“Which one is it?” I ask.
Butcher comes over, squatting next to me, as well as the guy who was holding the gun before.
“Blue tie,” Says butcher. “Bad haircut.”
“Balding or buzzed?”
“Neither. Short mullet.” He adds.
I nod, and suddenly stand up, moving to another spot on the rooftop.
“What the fuck are you doing? I just spent two hours setting that spot up!”
“The glass is bulletproof,” I state. “Can’t you see the reflection?”
I start laughing then, “I mean, can’t you hear the way it sounds as the wind gusts off of it? There might as well be a sign.”
He looks at me quizzically, they all do. It usually takes a second for most people to recall my pathetic existence.
“This window here must've just been replaced, because it’s temporary. Not bulletproof, and frankly, not strong wind proof either. This thing is just asking to be shattered.”
I crouch down again, squinting my eyes, and looking down the scope. I hold my hand up, snapping quietly. In fractions of a second, I can feel, hear, and see sound waves bouncing off of every nearby surface. They rush through the open air towards the glass window, bouncing off, only then to reverberate around the inside. It wraps around the target's stature like a sheet in the wind. Bullseye. I pull the trigger, hitting him directly between the eyes. We all watch as all hell breaks loose within whatever party I just ruined.
I stand up, handing the rifle over to Butcher. I wipe my hands off on my pants.
“We have five minutes before a swat team barrels up here. Do you mind if we talk in private?”
Butcher nods, he and I both begin to walk downstairs. Everyone grabs their stuff, and from the scrawny boy I hear a snap, like he's finally put his finger on it.
“Frequency!” Ego boost, I think. “God, that makes so much sense.”
That recognition hasn’t happened in a while. I'm embarrassed to say I’m beginning to blush.
The french one nods to him, “A freak of fucking nature. That is a hell of a gift.”
A hell of a curse, he means. If only they knew the half of it. The boys chuckle as Butcher and I disappear into a dark alley. There are sirens in the distance.
“I need a favor.” I say, stopping and turning to him. The only thing illuminating us is a musty street light. It's hazy and orange. He looks down at me with damp skin. His body is trying it’s hardest to detoxify itself. There is no use.
“What's that, love?” He chuckles, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. He brings one up to his lips, inhaling and lighting. He gestures the pack to me. I shake my head. I always end up tasting the pesticides.
“Look, I’ve asked everyone. You and your boys are the only thing I have left.”
“Well, spit it out then.” He coughs.
I take a deep breath, looking down at my shoe and kicking a little rock with the toe of it.
“I want revenge on Vought.”
“Get in line sweetheart.” I roll my eyes at him, why does everyone always say that?
“But listen, I have the perfect idea,” I explain. “Over the summer they will be throwing a huge event in celebration over the success of Temp-V. I’m sure almost, if not all of the major Vought scientists will be there. Oh, and executives too. And all of the supes we all hate as well.”
He watches me as I talk, just smoking his cigarette. He’s hard to read these days. His expression is always pained. Not surprising though, I can literally hear his body decomposing.
“I just- this is my best chance to get back at these people for cursing me. For making my life, and everyone else's life a living hell. Think about it, you can avenge your wife!"
“Why don’t you ask the big man in the sky?” He scoffs.
“I did, he said no.”
“Well, there is your answer from me.”
“I’m sorry?” I glare at him, appalled. “Last time I checked all you wanted to do was avenge your wife! Say 'fuck you' to Vought, and to Homelander. Why do you suddenly have cold feet?”
He reaches around me, placing an arm on my shoulder. He begins to walk me down the alleyway.
“If the cunt says no, then it’s a no. We show up there ready to blow a crater into the ground, he’ll be the first to know. You know better than I do that he ain’t gonna like it. Also, we got ties to the FBI and the CIA. The last thing they need is for their agents that are integrated within Vought to be a part of Supe 9/11.”
“You’re telling me the CIA isn't looking for an excuse to destroy these bastards?”
“They are,” He smiles. “Just in a way that won’t have a trail leading back to ‘em.”
We’re at the opening of the alley now. Police cars fly by as they respond to the murder I just committed a few blocks away. I should be in the clear, I’m hearing a lot of “Arab Supe-Terrorist” static over the vibrations of police radio.
“Get Soldier Boy back, thatll make it even easier for everyone. They can just blame it on him.”
“That’ll come back on ‘em too, Love. They have him hidden with a frostbitten dick at a military compound. If the cunt got out on their terms they’d never hear the end of it.”
Huzzah, I think. Now that is a good idea. I go to shake his hand. If he's gonna reject me too, I guess there is only one thing left to do.
“Where'd they end up keeping him anyway? My bets on upstate.” I question.
He squeezes my hand tight, smiling at me mischievously.
“I know better than to tell ‘ya that, sweetheart.”
I laugh, not genuinely, more out of frustration by this point.
“Right,” I say, beginning to walk off in the direction of my subway. “Let me know if you are ever need any of my services. You know where to reach me.”
He walks off the opposite way, his radioactive stench leaving a trail behind him. The plot thickens. Soldier Boy is upstate alright. And if no one is willing to help me, then I’ll just have to do it myself.
Masterlist | Episode 2
#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy#soldier boy smut#soldier boy fanfic#soldier boy the boys#the boys fanfic#billy butcher#hughie campbell#homelander x reader#homelander smut#jensen ackles#jensen ackles x reader#billy butcher x reader
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