#the boys hughie x reader
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Irredeemable - Hughie Campbell x fem!reader (The Boys)
Pairing: Hughie Campbell (The Boys) x fem!reader
Word Count: 3011
Warnings: Swearing (obviously), canon typical everything
You should have known that you were the last person Butcher would want to see right now, and yet you had made the decision to return to him, to the team.
The Boys had been the closest thing you’d had to a family in a long time, even with their quirks and, well, their long running murderous rampage.
That was, until everything went to shit. Butcher had effectively exiled you from the team, sending you on your own solo mission several states away.
It wasn’t that you hated what you were doing, you just hated doing it on your own. Supe killing was a team effort, no easy feat for someone so completely alone. So when you caught wind of the team’s current predicament, you’d decided for yourself that it was time you made your return.
Maybe your sudden reappearance would serve as a well needed distraction from Becca’s death. Or maybe Butcher would do everything in his power to make you fuck off again.
The feeling of something heavy landing on your front pulled you from your sleep.
“Look what the fucking cat dragged in.”
You pushed your bag full of guns off your lap as your eyes fluttered open before sitting up on the sofa, suddenly aware of your surroundings.
You don’t even remember getting to the hideout, let alone crashing onto the couch in exhaustion.
“How long have you been back?” Butcher’s voice echoed in your ears again, a scowl on his face as you stared back up at him blankly.
“I - uh,” you start, rubbing your forehead. “What time is it?”
Butcher turns his head in the direction of the rest of the team, keeping his eyes on you as he waits for someone to tell you the time.
“Four sixteen P.M,” an unknown voice reads out, your eyes moving to find the source.
“Who-,” you barely get the word out before Butcher interrupts you.
“Four sixteen P.M,” Butcher repeats, turning his head back to you. “Now fuck off.”
Butcher begins to storm away as you jump up from the sofa. You move quickly to catch up with him, ignoring all of the eyes on you as you grab hold of his coat sleeve in desperation.
“I need to talk to you, Butcher,” you say, your voice almost a whisper.
“I don’t want to talk to you, love,” he whispers back.
“Please, Butcher. I, fuck,” you breathe, dropping his sleeve. “I killed him.”
“You-” Butcher starts, cutting himself off in shock. “You killed him. Him?”
“Him,” you repeat.
Butcher does nothing but stare at you for several seconds before bringing a hand to your shoulder.
“Welcome back,” he grins.
All you can do is smile back at Butcher as he removes his hand from your shoulder before quickly turning away, getting back to whatever it was that he was doing in the first place.
You feel the weight leaving your chest and your whole body relaxing as you turn back, facing the rest of the team.
Your smile only grows as your eyes meet Frenchie’s, the man instantly striding over and taking you into his arms.
“Mon ami, I missed you!” he exclaims, excitedly jumping you up and down in his embrace.
As Frenchie returns your feet to the ground, you look up at M.M, continuing to grin as he nods at you.
“You guys have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” you sigh.
“It’s good to see you again, (y/n),” M.M nods. “Although, I’m sure you can see, things have kind of changed around here since you’ve been gone.”
He tilts his head to the side, your eyes following to see the two newest members of the team.
“This is Kimiko,” Frenchie beams, putting an arm over her shoulder. The dark haired girl gives you a sweet smile as she waves at you. You wave back before focusing on the lanky man beside her.
“Hi,” he says, his voice slightly worried.
“Hey,” you say, holding out your hand for him to shake. “I’m (y/n).”
“Hughie. I’m the one who told you the time,” he laughs nervously, his hand slightly clammy in yours. “I don’t know why I just said that, I’m sorry,” he says, shaking his head as his face cringes.
“I appreciate it, Hughie.”
It doesn’t take long for you to settle right back into the team with the six of you each perched in the living room area of the hideout, both recounting stories and bringing each other up to speed with any new information.
You aren’t so happy to hear that your room has become Hughie’s, but you take the opportunity to tell him about all of your previous endeavours in that very room, on his bed.
“She’s teasing you, Hughie,” M.M laughs “She never had that many guys over.”
“Oh she did!” Frenchie says. “I could hear her every fucking night,” he nods his head, nudging his elbow into your side.
You give Frenchie a swift slap on the arm before mouthing a ‘sorry’ to Hughie, a disgusted look on his face.
“Right,” Butcher says, slapping his hands to his knees before getting up from the sofa. “I’m off to bed. Big fucking day tomorrow.”
He gives Hughie a heavy pat on the back before leaving the room, his door slamming shut behind him.
One by one, the rest of the team bid each other goodnight until you’re left alone with Hughie. He’s stood awkwardly in front of the T.V., his arms pressed to his sides as you rub your eyes with the back of your hands.
“I, um,” he starts. “I’m sorry for taking your room. I just-,”
“You didn’t know, Hughie,” you say, a tired smile on your face. “It’s your room.”
He nods, his face relaxing before he immediately tenses up again.
“But where are you going to sleep?”
“Here seems fine!” you say, swinging your legs up onto the sofa and resting your head on the arm of the couch.
He looks at you in disbelief as you shoot him an assuring smile.
“Are you sure? I just feel really bad,” he says, holding a hand to his cheek.
“I’m sure,” you sigh. “Now get to bed.”
A gentle laugh escapes him as you shoo him off with your hands, finally giving in.
“Fine, fine. But at least let me bring you a blanket?”
“Oh wow, uh,” you can’t hide your shock at his kindness.
He’s definitely in the wrong business.
“I’ll be right back,” he smiles.
----------------------
You wake up curled up on the sofa, tucked under a fleece blanket. The smell of cheap, herbal body spray and a tinge of sweat fills your nostrils.
There's a faint sound of life from across the room, shuffling and clattering around. You sit up, feeling oddly refreshed despite your awkward sleeping arrangement.
“What time do you call this, love?” Butcher’s voice calls out. “Never knew you to sleep in.”
“Fuck off,” you grunt, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you peel yourself up from the sofa.
“Ever the charmer,” he says, throwing a tea towel in your direction. “Make yourself useful and help Frenchie with breakfast.”
“Yes, boss,” you laugh, making your way towards the two men.
After a short while, breakfast is ready (Frenchie is very proud of his “French(ie) toast) and the rest of the gang join you in the large, communal room.
You shoot Hughie a smile as he walks towards the sofa, earning a polite nod in response. Quickly, you turn back to the “kitchen” countertop, eager to serve up this morning’s meal.
“So,” you start, gently piling a couple of slices of toast onto each plate. “What’s the plan for today?”
Butcher only laughs, lowly, in response as he shakes his head.
Both M.M and Hughie shoot Butcher a look of confusion, to which he just shrugs.
“You can do -” he cuts himself off, taking a bit of his toast. “Whatever you want,” he mumbles.
You furrow your brows, averting your gaze to the rest of the team in a desperate attempt to get some sort of answer.
Catching Hughie’s eyes, he shuffles in his seat before turning to face Butcher.
“I’ve - uhh - I’ve got some errands to run. (y/n) could -” he turns back to you. “You could join me today? I could use the company,” he shrugs.
“Sure,” you smile, catching Frenchie smirking to himself in your peripheral vision. “Errands sound good.”
------------------
Over the course of the morning, everyone splits into their decided pairs for the day: Butcher and M.M head out first to make a start on something or other a few miles away, Frenchie and Kimiko to gather intel on a particular set of Vought owned buildings and you and Hughie to… go shopping?
The two of you wander into town in comfortable conversation, stopping in a few different shops along the way.
“I’m sorry, I have to ask,” you start. “How the actual fuck did someone as, well, as good as you end up working with Butcher?”
“Oh man,” Hughie lets out a breathy chuckle, his grip on the carrier bag growing tighter. “My girlfriend, uhh - fuck. A-Train killed my girlfriend.”
“Shit, I’m so sorry, Hughie. I shouldn’t have asked,” you say, stopping in the street in embarrassment.
Hughie lets out a soft breath, shaking his head. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it.”
He tilts his head for you to continue walking, “Come on.”
The two of you walk in silence before you speak up again.
“What was she like?”
“Hmm?” Hughie stops.
“Your girlfriend. What was she like?” you repeat.
Unexpectedly, Hughie proceeds to tell you about his late girlfriend, who you now know as Robin, in great detail; the two of you go through what could only be described as an emotional rollercoaster as he tells you all about her personality, her passions - everything.
“I’m sorry,” he interrupts himself. “I didn’t mean to, you know, fuck,” he shakes his head. “No one’s ever asked me that before.”
“Come on,” you smile, holding your arm out for him to follow you. “Let’s go sit down somewhere.”
Wordlessly, Hughie follows behind you until you arrive at the park. The two of you sit beside each other on one of the many benches overlooking the city.
He turns his head towards you, looking at you as if he’s asking for permission to speak. You gently nod in response.
“I, um. I guess I just feel kinda guilty about everything. Just, yeah, everything. After Robin, I met the guys, you know, and they’ve helped me. They’re a good distraction to all of the bullshit, which is kind of ironic seeing as, you know, thanks to them I’m deep in the bullshit. And then of course there’s Annie,” he pauses with a shaky breath. “There was Annie. She made me feel so much better about everything, which in turn only made me feel worse. Annie is a supe, you know? And a supe killed my girlfriend. So, there were times where it kind of felt like I was betraying Robin by being with the thing that killed her.”
“Hughie,” you say, your voice gentle. “You have nothing to feel bad about. Whatever happened, whatever you’ve done is nothing in the grand scheme of things.”
Hughie nods, softly at first before gradually becoming more confident.
“Me and Annie, we, uh, we’re not a thing anymore.”
“Oh?” you pry.
“It’s complicated,” he shrugs. “But now Butcher is pissed. He was sort of hoping that my relationship with Annie would get us closer to Vought, you know, use her a little bit. But now that things have fallen apart, I think Butcher feels like I’ve wasted my one chance to be a useful member of the team.”
“Listen, Hughie,” you shake your head. “Butcher has kicked off about far less in the past. If he wanted you off the team, you’d be gone by now. Trust me.”
Hughie shifts on the bench, turning his body to face you, careful to keep his knee from brushing against your leg.
“I’m sorry, (y/n)” he says, shaking his head slightly as he furrows his brow. “I should have asked this before but, uh, what happened with you and Butcher, exactly?”
You can’t help the dry laugh that escapes your lips, throwing your head back.
“Where do I even start?” you laugh.
Hughie lets out a small chuckle with you, though he can’t disguise the fact that he is desperate to know what went down. Catching his eye, you give in.
“I was seeing this guy, Adam, when I first met Butcher. God, this was years ago now,” you laugh. “We were kind of on and off, he was all over the place, mentally, I mean. I loved him though. Like, love of my life, kind of love. I was ready to put up with all of his shit, all of his disappearing, everything,” you say, forcing out a chuckle to stop yourself from crying.
Hughie nods, lifting his arm awkwardly in an attempt to comfort you before placing his hand back on his lap.
“To save some time I’ll just cut to the actually interesting part. Adam was a supe.”
Hughie stares at you in disbelief. You shrug your shoulders in response.
“I find it so hard to believe that you of all people dated a supe. Did you know he was a supe when yo-”
“No,” you cut him off. “I had no idea he was a supe. Neither did Butcher. Adam wasn’t one of the A-listers, but he did have a pretty impressive power. He was some kind of telepath,” you shrug. “He could put thoughts into your brain, and remove your thoughts as he pleased. Hence why we never suspected him.
“Anyway, Butcher did eventually find out the truth about Adam, and he tried so hard to get through to me but whatever Adam put in my brain made that impossible. It got to a point where I didn’t trust Butcher at all, I never knew why, and I think Butcher got fed up.”
Hughie remained still in his seat as you spoke, watching your face morph from expression to expression as you told your story.
“So Butcher just… kicked you out?” Hughie said. “ I can’t believe he would just give up on you like that, especially after everything he’s done for me.”
You offer Hughie a soft smile in response, shaking your head gently.
“Butcher didn’t outright kick me out, although I’d understand if he had done. Adam actually proposed to me.”
The shocked expression returned to Hughie’s face, his eyes wide and mouth agape.
“Adam wanted to move to Vegas so, obviously, I dropped everything to follow him there. I told Butcher that I was leaving the team to be with Adam. I didn’t mean it, of course, I was just so in love, so under Adam’s spell that I would do and say anything to make him happy. Butcher didn’t like that, obviously, so he effectively banished me. ‘ Said if he ever saw me again, he’d kill me.”
Hughie turns in his seat, hunched over with his head in his hands as he takes in every word of what you had just said.
“Butcher just let you leave?” He asks, a tinge of sadness in his voice. “He seriously made no attempt to stop you?”
“I guess he-”
“It wouldn’t have mattered if he had tried to stop you,” he interrupts you. “You were under Adam’s mind control.”
“Exactly,” you nod. “After a good couple of months in Vegas, something snapped in me. Adam couldn’t control me anymore. And - please don’t tell Butcher this,”
“I won’t,” Hughie interjects, edging closer towards you.
“When I first, I don’t know, woke up? Is that the right word?”
“Woke up works,” Hughie shrugs.
“Okay,” you laugh. “When I finally woke up, I was so, so mad at Butcher. I blamed him for a while for not protecting me, for giving up on me. But I know in reality,” you sigh, “there was nothing that he could have done.”
“I imagine it took you a long time to come to terms with that,” Hughie says, his voice quieter than before as he ducks his head even further towards you.
“Yeah,” you nod. “I only really came to terms with it when I snapped. I actually stayed with Adam for a couple of days after I woke up, trying to think of the best escape plan. I spent two days pretending that I was still under his control before I couldn’t handle it anymore. I killed him.”
The two of you sit in silence for a while after that, both staring into the distance, past the view of the city and towards the pale late morning sky.
“Why didn’t you come back sooner?” Hughie asks, his voice cutting through the quiet.
“I, god, Hughie, I’ve never thought about that,” you laugh, dryly. “I guess -”
“You don’t need to have an answer, (y/n),” he smiles.
You can’t help but smile back at him as you think more on his question.
“I actually stayed in Vegas to kill supes. The whole city is a goldmine for washed up supes so it was good practice for whenever I chose to return.”
“Do you think maybe, no. I shouldn’t say it,” Hughie interrupts himself.
“No, no, Hughie. Please say it,” you say, practically begging Hughie for an answer to his question that is sure to plague you otherwise.
“Maybe,” he sighs, pulling himself up from the bench, standing before you. “Maybe you were trying to prove to yourself that you were still a supe hunter? That Butcher would still want you on the team after everything?”
You had no words. Hughie was right, of course he was. But what could you possibly say in response to that information?
You remain seated in silence for a little while longer before finally deciding to stand beside Hughie.
“Come on,” he says, his voice soft. “We should be heading back.”
A/N let me know if you want a part two to this!
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What people think I mean when I say I like white boys:
What I actually mean:
#adrian chase x female reader#adrian chase#adrian chase x reader#adrian chase smut#slimecicle x reader#slimecicle#charlie slimecicle#jack mercer x reader#jack mercer#Kyle Gallner#hughie campbell x reader#hughie campbell#the boys hughie#callum turner#callum turner x reader#john egan#john egan x reader#dylan minnette x reader#dylan minnette#the wallows#ethan daley#Ethan Daley x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#x black fem reader#black yn#black reader#black tumblr#black oc#black fem reader
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Calculated Risks
Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader
Summary: You and Ben argue about your commitment to being a working mom. When a rogue supe gets loose at Supe Affairs, mayhem ensues, putting not only your life at risk, but your daughter’s as well.
AN: Welcome back to the BMD-verse, friends! Did you miss these two as much as I did? Plus, get ready for a heavy dose of fan-favorite Frank. (And Lila, of course!)
Word Count: 7K
Tags/Warnings: Familiar bickering, a mission gone awry, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff.
Catch up on the BMD-verse. ⤵️
💚 Break Me Down Masterlist
In four years of marriage, one thing that had never changed between you and Ben was this.
“All right, you’re being a little too much right now,” you said in irritation. “Of course I’m not sitting this one out. I’m the one who found us the damn lead in the first place.”
The man was following you from the adjoining bathroom and back into your shared bedroom, where you began getting dressed for work in the blouse and pencil skirt you’d laid out for yourself.
Your husband had already donned his supe suit, sans helmet. He stood just behind you with his arms crossed, a familiar surly frown on his face. When you turned around, he hadn’t moved an inch.
“I’m being too much? You’re the one who’s not being fucking reasonable,” he said.
You rolled your eyes and moved past him to find your shoes. For this skirt, you really needed heels. Your most comfortable black pumps would do. You grabbed the closet doorknob for balance as you slipped them on, giving him a look of exasperation.
Ben held firm on his stance, but inside, he had a feeling you’d chosen this outfit on purpose. You knew he liked this whole sexcretary look on you, with your hair let down around your shoulders. The skirt and heels just brought his eyes to the delectable curve of your ass.
But again, he was holding firm.
He’d been called in on this case partly because Annie was on maternity leave. She was due in just a few weeks. Which meant “Soldier Boy” was definitely needed to help out Butcher and his merry band of assholes. By now, Ben had gotten used to them.
“Look,” you said, “Slingshot has been causing a lot of havoc, and the police haven’t been able to catch him. You heard Grace. This is an ‘all hands on deck’ situation.”
“She always says that shit. Doesn’t make it true,” Ben retorted.
“This time it is,” you said. “I’ve already put in tons of man hours on surveillance for this guy. I want to get him off the street.”
Ben held you by your arms. “That’s exactly my point. You’ve been putting in way too many hours.”
You shook your head. He just didn’t get it.
“If I hadn’t, we wouldn’t have this opening now,” you said. You gave him a smile to try and lighten him. “Now he’s all teed up for you and the guys. This should be in and out. Practically a milk run for you.”
“Yeah, but not for you,” he pointed out. “And not for Lila. You’re stretching yourself too damn thin. It’s not like we need the money.”
Ahh, now we get to it, you thought. Yet again, he was bringing this up. In his mind, you should’ve cut your hours at Supe Affairs after Lila was born.
You did take an extended maternity leave of an entire year and a half, which was much more than women usually got from their jobs. However, because of your relationship with Grace and the entire team, you’d been allowed to come back whenever you felt ready.
Ben had often felt it necessary to point out that with his money, you didn’t have to work at all.
He knew very well that for you, this work was more than a job.
“I’m not the first working mom in existence, Ben,” you said, pushing out of his hold. “And I’ll remind you that Supe Affairs has a great daycare program. Lila’s very happy there.”
Plus, she was almost three and a half years old. In less than a year, Lila would be off to preschool.
“And look, it’s not about the money,” you added. “I told you before Lila was born. I am a mother, and I’m your wife. But I’m still me.”
Ben processed that for a moment, meeting your gaze.
“The situation’s changed,” he replied. He grasped your hips this time. His thumb gently brushed over your belly, which had a small bump under your high-waisted skirt.
You were finally pregnant again. Three months, in fact, and you were having a boy. You knew that Ben had several reasons to be more protective than usual…but still. You thought you were already taking every precaution to keep you and your children safe, even with the occasionally extensive hours of your job.
“These cases can be long and difficult, not to mention dangerous,” said Ben. His green eyes met yours as he looked down at you through furrowed brows. “You’re putting yourself at risk.”
You blew out a breath and tried to placate him, soothing a hand over his chest.
“I’ve stopped doing field missions,” you pointed out. “And Supe Affairs is the most secure building in the city. Do you think I would bring Lila there if it wasn’t?”
The security team at the S.A. was bar none, not only because Loco was a part of that team. Frank was also your personal bodyguard; Ben hired him back when you found out you were pregnant with Lila.
In fact, Frank was coming to the house in a few minutes to pick you all up.
Ben frowned. “I think you’re being stubborn just to be fucking stubborn.”
That sparked at your temper. Again, you withdrew from his arms and crossed yours.
“I think you need to face the fact that I’m protected as well as I can be,” you said. “I also think that you’re trying to use this as a way to shoehorn me into some antiquated idea of what you still think a wife should be. I’m gonna tell you right now. That’s not me! It’s never been me. And you know that.”
He opened his mouth to give an angry retort, but you beat him to it.
“It’s like you don’t even care about what I want,” you snapped. “Just what you think is right—for me to be here waiting for you to come home, quite literally barefoot and pregnant, ready to rub your balls!”
Cliché as it might’ve been to say, if the shoe fit, then you were certainly not going to be the one to wear it.
“You know what, you can accuse me of being stuck in the fucking past all you want,” Ben said, raising a finger, as well as his voice. “But the problem here isn’t me. It’s that what you want is goddamn idiotic!”
Your mouth fell agape. “Excuse me?! I can’t even believe you right now!”
Ben fairly loomed above you when he shouted back.
“Well, that makes fucking two of us!”
His voice was loud enough to reverberate on the walls. You even flinched, but you held your ground with a glare…
Until you heard a whimper.
You and Ben paused, and turned to find Lila. The three-year-old was cowering a bit in the doorway to your bedroom. Her eyes welled up with tears, and she began to cry.
Your heart broke.
“Oh, honey,” you breathed. You were both apologetic and mortified as you quickly went to her.
Ben was close behind you, but while Lila was quick to melt into your arms when you picked her up, she shied away from his attempt to reach out to her. What would’ve been a placating hand on her head, turned into him pausing in surprise when she ducked.
“Lila?” he prodded.
He tried to mask how put out he was by his daughter hiding her face from him, burrowing into your neck instead. She was usually a daddy’s girl, through and through.
You shot him a knowing frown, while rubbing her back in comfort.
“It’s okay, baby,” you told her. “Your dad and I were just…talking. He didn’t mean to shout.”
When Lila only whimpered in response, Ben’s gaze dimmed in understanding. His lips pursed.
You saw that look on his face, and you wanted to sigh. Part of you felt bad for him, at the way Lila had flinched away from her father. In a way though, maybe it was a lesson he needed to learn.
Frank arrived a few minutes later in a black SUV, like he did every weekday morning to bring you all to work. Ben was quiet and taciturn climbing into the backseat on one side, and you clipped Lila into her car seat from the other side. He still made sure that she was strapped in correctly, and even tried to earn his daughter’s gaze.
She snuck a glance at him a couple of times, but quickly lowered it to play with one of her favorite stuffed animal toys (a little German shepherd that he had gotten for her).
Ben let out a long breath through his nose. He gave Frank a nod through the rearview mirror, and the other man peeled away from the house.
The four of you rode in silence away from your house in Scarsdale, towards New York City.
Ben’s mood remained grim, even when you all got to Supe Affairs. Frank held back while you and Ben stopped in the hallway with Lila. You were carrying her, and she was holding onto you and her stuffed animal like a lifeline instead of looking anywhere else—namely at Ben.
You sighed and tried to pull her back enough to see her face.
“Daddy’s gotta go to work now. Want to say goodbye?” you encouraged.
All Lila could manage was a shy look in his direction. Ben laid a gentle hand on her head, over her dark hair.
“Bye, sweetheart,” he said.
Lila didn’t answer him. She just bit her lip and stayed withdrawn.
You and Ben shared a glance. He was hiding it well behind his usual stoicism, but this was hurting him. There wasn’t much either of you could do about it now, however. You both had work to do, and the mission would have to come first.
“I’ll be online in a bit,” you told him.
First, you needed to take Lila up to daycare before Frank accompanied you to your office. There you’d be able to join the mission from your computer and put your headset on. Aside from surveillance, you were their virtual eyes on missions.
So Ben tacitly agreed, and the two of you parted ways.
You went up to the second floor to drop Lila off at daycare, where you set her onto her feet. You could see that she was quiet and almost sad, not as bright and talkative as usual. And she was clinging to your hand. You bent down the best you could in your skirt, so you could meet her eyes.
“Are you still upset with your dad?” you asked.
After a moment, Lila replied, “Daddy’s loud.”
You couldn’t help a rueful smile.
“Yeah, he can be,” you nodded. “But he’s gonna work on that, okay? He loves you very much.”
She finally smiled a little when you pressed a few sweet kisses to her cheeks. You felt a little better about leaving her with Sarah, the woman who ran the daycare center. She was kind, but well-organized, and good at her job of wrangling fifteen or so toddlers on a daily basis.
And she was hovering off to the side with a smile, waiting to shepherd Lila over to where the rest of the group were starting at the arts and crafts table.
“Okay, baby. I love you. I’m just downstairs if you need me,” you said, caressing Lila’s cheeks, brushing her hair away from her face.
She nodded and waved goodbye. Sarah then stepped in and guided the girl over to the crafts table. The other kids were already drawing and coloring with crayons and markers.
With a sigh, you knew you had to get to work. You joined Frank out in the hall.
“Did something happen this morning?” he asked. You gave him a weary look.
“Something always happens. I’ll fill you in when we hit the elevator,” you said.
“Kids are resilient. She’ll bounce back,” said Frank, when you two got off the elevator down to the basement, under the first floor. This was where the “heavy stuff” happened at the S.A.
“That’s not the point, Frank. He hasn’t snapped at me like that in a long time, and he really scared her. That’s not fucking okay,” you said. “He needs to learn to control his goddamn temper.”
He sent you a knowing glance. You rolled your eyes.
“Okay, I know I don’t always help. But in this case, I was justified,” you said. “Ben was being an ass.”
“Right,” Frank nodded. “It’s not at all that he’s worried about you.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “Whose side are you on?”
The man remained silent, but his stoic face wasn’t fooling you. He’d been your friend for much too long, and he knew Ben just as well…which was why you found yourself reconsidering what happened this morning.
“You really think he has a point?” you asked. “Am I working too much?”
Frank shook his head and opened the door for you into the Surveillance Department. The two of you ventured to your office, where your quadruple monitor setup was waiting for you. He also had a desk for himself, since he often spent the long hours of your day with you.
“When you were pregnant with Lila, you were on maternity leave by now,” he pointed out.
“Because we had no idea what was going to happen,” you countered. You went to your desk and started up your computer. “I had to meet with Tonya once a week, ultrasounds and blood tests all the time, making sure Lila was healthy, that I was healthy. This time around, we have a better idea of what to expect.”
For example, you were experiencing bouts of super strength once again, but it was still intermittent. Although, you pretty much never needed coffee. Maybe the supe genes coursing through your system, thanks to your unborn son, was part of the reason why you’d been able to go such long hours for these cases.
He's already brightening up my life, you thought with a little smile, holding a hand over your lower belly.
“It’s your choice,” Frank said at last. “But it is possible that Ben cares about more than just making you a suburban housewife.”
At that, you sighed. There was nothing wrong with being a housewife, you knew. It just wasn’t…you.
Once your computer and monitors were booted up, you connected to the right channels and put on your headset.
Already you could hear M.M. bitching about keeping the weapons trunk organized, not just tossing things in haphazardly.
“It’s a simple fucking system, Frenchie. You can at least abide by it,” M.M. said. “We don’t have time to be scratching our asses while you try to find a—”
“Hey, Bert and Ernie. Would you shut the fuck up already?” Ben groused.
Your mouth twitched at his grumpiness.
“A little testy this morning, ey guv?” Butcher remarked.
“Gargle my ball sack,” Ben replied, with an even grouchier deadpan than usual.
“Do you kiss your child with that mouth?” Frenchie teased.
“Nah, just your mother’s French hole,” Ben slung back. You rolled your eyes.
“All right, all right. Put the measuring tapes away,” you interrupted. “I’m online, locked on your GPS.”
“Well, if it ain’t Mrs. America herself,” Butcher drawled. “Got a lock on Slingshot’s location for us?”
“You know it,” you replied. “Sending to the group chat now. Slingshot’s been spotted entering a strip club in Chinatown.”
“Jeez. A little early for tits and booze. It’s 10:00 a.m. on a Tuesday,” said Hughie.
You heard Ben huff in amusement. “It’s never too early.”
You snorted at that.
“Right. I’ll remember that next time you fall asleep watching Family Feud,” you clipped back.
You heard the other guys trying not to laugh as they got into Butcher’s van. Part of you felt bad for teasing Ben, knowing he was already in a bad mood, but you were feeling a bit petty about what happened this morning.
You had to bite your lip against a smile, as you could picture the ill-tempered face your man was likely sporting.
And we’re off.
Lila wasn’t having a good day.
She didn’t feel like coloring, and the toys just weren’t fun today.
She just didn’t want to be here. The other kids smelled like old Cheetos and feet (especially the boys).
She missed you. And though she hadn’t wanted to admit it to you, she missed Daddy too.
Lila wanted to go home…she wanted her mom.
“I’m just downstairs if you need me,” you’d said.
Lila had a kind of plan percolating in her mind, all through the morning, and even through lunch time. She didn’t want to get in trouble, but when she’d asked Miss Sarah if she could go see you, she’d said you were at work and couldn’t come get Lila until later.
But that’s not what Mommy said, Lila thought.
After lunch, she laid on the napping mat with her pillow and blanket, even though she was wide awake. She didn’t want to nap with the other kids, even though Miss Sarah told her it was time to sleep.
Again, Lila didn’t want to be bad. She didn’t want to get in trouble either, but she really, really just wanted to see you.
And you’d said it was okay to go downstairs if she needed you, right?
Lila closed her eyes while Miss Sarah was looking, but she waited until the teacher went into her office to answer a call. Then, Lila carefully put Charlie, her stuffed dog, against her pillow, tucking the blanket up to his neck.
She crawled off her mat and snuck over to the door while Miss Sarah was distracted on her phone. Lila reached up and was just tall enough to twist the doorknob. It led her out of the room, and out into the empty hall. She then looked both ways for a clue on where to go.
She heard a ding, and looked over at a nearby pair of elevators.
The mission went more or less according to plan. Slingshot’s abilities allowed him to stretch every part of his body like elastic. It not only made him hard to catch, but even harder to maim without collateral damage.
A whole block in Chinatown was wrecked in the takedown, but your idea of ripping the cables from a nearby utility pole to electrocute him let Ben finally subdue the elastic supe. Kimiko knocked him out, and Butcher slapped some tight-ass cuffs on him and dragged him into the van. They returned with the rogue supe in custody.
You were mentally exhausted from helping them track down routes to pin down Slingshot, but you were relieved to be done. You were also satisfied that another danger to society was neutralized, for now.
You took pride in your work, and you didn’t think Ben saw that, or thought it was important. You supposed that was what upset you the most about that fight with him.
Sometimes, you wondered if he would ever truly change.
You grabbed your purse and made sure to slip in your gun and taser. You left your office and greeted Frank, who had just finished making his rounds in the building with Loco’s team. Frank joined you on the way to the elevator.
“I meant to ask you, how’s Alana doing?” you asked. Alana was his daughter, who was now in college.
“She’s changed her major yet again,” he said wryly. “This time to philosophy.”
“Philosophy? That’s interesting. What does she want to do with that?” you asked.
“No fucking clue,” he replied, hitting the button for the first floor. “I just hope she gets bored and picks something practical. Like…teaching, or dentistry.”
You shot him a bemused look. “Dentistry?”
“As much money as I put into that girl’s braces, it’d be good for her to pay it forward,” Frank said, in a surly tone that reminded you of Ben. You had to laugh.
You and Frank exited the elevator and started down the hall.
You planned to touch base with Grace Mallory on the safety measures of Slingshot’s containment before he was put into custody. The idea was to house him in a prison cell that could actually hold him until he went through the legal process.
But you’d only gotten halfway down the hall before the supe in question literally stretched past you on unnaturally long legs—in a blur of his white and blue supe suit. Your eyes widened on a gasp as you watched him head toward the elevator you’d just come off of.
“Fuckin’ hell, we’ve got a runner!” Butcher shouted from down the hall. He along with Ben, M.M., Frenchie, Hughie, and Kimiko were rushing your way.
It all happened so fast.
You registered Frank shooting out a protective arm in front of you. You turned back to see the elevator doors had opened back up, and Slingshot rushed inside. He made eye contact with you.
Then his arms shot out like rubber bands. One of them knocked Frank into the far wall. You gasped and froze on reflex.
Ben shouted your name; he was running towards you, getting closer. You were able to meet his wide eyes for a brief moment. He reached out for you, but those stretching arms closed around you first. You gasped when they slung you backwards.
You cried out in shock when your back met a surprisingly solid chest.
Meanwhile, Ben barreled the rest of the way down the hall as the elevators closed just short of his angrily furrowed face.
The stretched arms holding you were tight around your torso, making your grit your teeth as you tried to pull away. They twisted you around so you could face your captor. Or so he could see you.
His natural height was around Butcher’s—dark hair, blue eyes, angular features. He gave you what was probably meant to be a suave smile as those baby blues dragged down your body.
“Hey, baby. Nice heels,” he said. You rolled your eyes.
“So that’s why they call you Slingshot,” you said, still a bit breathless. The elevator started to move. He’d chosen the top floor. “Where do you think you’re gonna go?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” he snarked. “Anywhere but here. And you’re gonna help me.”
“How? Being a human shield?”
“For a start,” he smirked down at you. He backed up a step just to take another proper look at you, and he whistled lowly. He took your chin between his sweaty fingers, making you grimace when he stroked your cheek.
“Down boy,” you said warily. “Trust me, you really don’t want to do this.”
This jackass hadn’t even realized you had a small, but noticeable baby bump.
“Why not, babe?” he grinned. “You’ve got the whole sexy librarian thing going on.”
You heard a loud creaking sound outside the elevator doors. The compartment itself came to an abrupt stop, making the lights flicker.
“What the fuck?” Slingshot muttered. His hold around you loosened.
You had an idea of what just happened, with grim satisfaction. You also took advantage of his distraction and managed to slip a hand into your purse.
You pulled out your taser. Slingshot noticed and tried to grab you again, but the elevator somehow started to move in reverse, about a foot a time. It made both of you lose your balance and utter sounds of surprise.
As soon as you regained your footing, you aimed the taser at the most sensitive place you could think of—the supe’s dick and balls.
His howls of pain were loud enough to reach Ben, Frank, and the rest of the team on the third floor. Ben’s face became edged with a smirk.
He kept pulling the elevator cables down until the compartment’s doors were in reach. There he grabbed the doors and pulled them open with his bare hands, crunching metal under his fingers. The moment he saw you, the relief in your eyes, he grabbed your hand and pulled you out, into his arms.
Slingshot was angry, though he managed to recover, rip off the taser’s metal prongs and wires, and evade Kimiko, M.M., and even Butcher when he slithered his way out of the elevator and around their guns. The bullets ricocheted off the walls, and off his body as they followed him down the hall.
Ben focused on you. He brushed his half-gloved hands over your shoulders and sides while he quickly looked you over. There was worry in his eyes, disguised as anger. You caught your breath and held a protective hand over your lower belly out of reflex.
“You okay?” he said, but you were already nodding before he asked.
“I’m fine,” you replied. “Just get him. I’ll get Lila.”
Ben nodded. He shot one last firm look at Frank, who was back at your side. Frank laid a hand on your shoulder as Ben took off down the hall to find Slingshot.
“The stairs are safer at this point,” Frank said.
“I would have to agree,” you said, steeling yourself with a breath.
While you and Frank went downstairs to the second floor, you didn’t see the second elevator ding, its doors opening to your daughter, who ambled out alone. She looked one way down the hall, but hearing her father’s voice carrying down the opposite way, she started venturing in that direction.
If she couldn’t find you, then she’d find her dad.
“What the hell do you mean you lost her?” you shouted at Sarah, the woman who was supposed to be looking after your daughter. “How do you lose a three-year-old at nap time? What kind of incompetent fuck are you?”
Yes, Ben had unfortunately rubbed off on you.
Sarah was in tears by the time you were not even halfway done, but Frank calmed you down with another touch to your shoulder. You had tears of panic stinging in your eyes when you met his gaze, your mouth trembling.
“I just radioed in and put Loco and the rest of the security team on looking for Lila. She can’t have gotten far,” he said.
“Come on! Keep up with me, old man,” Slingshot taunted at Ben. His super flexibility allowed him to keep several steps ahead, dodging any attempts to grab him and any weapons fired with easy dips and playful deflection.
“When I get my hands on you, you flaccid fuck, you won’t know your ass from your ball sack,” Ben growled.
But he crashed into the wall when he took a corner too hard trying to tackle the other supe. He picked himself up from the debris of crumbled wall and plaster, ignoring Kimiko’s offer of a helping hand.
“Big fucking talk from the walking AARP commercial,” Slingshot snorted. He turned around and once again prepared to run. “Try not to shatter a hip, asshole!”
He took off down another bend in the hallway. Meanwhile, Ben shook himself off and joined the others in running after this cocksucker. Ben looked over at Butcher.
“What’s your fucking plan?” he grated out.
Butcher seemed to have an idea growing in his mind. “What’d she do to him in that elevator?”
“Tased his dick, by the sound of it,” Ben replied. He knew what weapons you kept in your purse, and that you'd know better than to fire a gun in an enclosed elevator. Butcher snapped his fingers.
“Electricity. Bloody brilliant,” he said. He pointed at Hughie and grabbed Frenchie by the collar. “You, with me. I’ve got an idea. The rest of ya, get him pinned down.”
“Easier said than done, motherfucker,” M.M. grumbled. But he followed Ben and Kimiko to find their errant supe.
Slingshot played a cocky game, but inside, there was fear.
They’d caught him once, and now, this building was crawling with security, let alone the assholes chasing him.
He was panting for breath when he nearly ran straight into…a kid?
She was wandering around, trying to open a locked door. He skidded to a stop in front of her, and she looked up at him wide-eyed. He tilted his head. She was a cute little thing with brown hair and green eyes. She wore a blouse with cartoon ducks on it over her jeans and sunshine-yellow shoes.
“Hey, cutie. Where you going?” asked Slingshot. “Are you lost?”
“Looking for my mom,” she answered, a bit timidly. The supe gave her an easy smile; inside, he knew he’d just found his collateral, and his ticket out of here.
“Okay. What’s your name?” he asked.
“L…Lila,” she said.
“Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he said, with all due charm. He struck a pose, with his fists held up to his waist. “I can help you, Lila. I’m a superhero.”
Her eyes widened. “Really? Like Daddy?”
“Oh, yeah. Your dad and I are friends.” Never mind that he had no fucking clue who her daddy was. He offered her his hand.
Now, Lila knew not to talk to strangers, but if he knew her dad…
After a moment of reluctant indecision, she took his hand. Slingshot tapered a smirk into a more friendly smile.
“Let’s go find him.”
Ben was ahead of the pack, but he soon came to an abrupt stop with wider eyes. He finally found Slingshot, except he had Ben’s daughter by the hand. Slingshot wore a cocky grin as he took the child up into his arms.
“Hey, guys. Who’s this little peanut belong to?” he asked. “Said she was looking for her daddy.”
Ben’s breath turned to lead in his lungs. Lila’s eyes lit up with recognition when she saw him.
“Daddy!”
Ben’s softer gaze shifted from her, hardening once it reached the other supe.
“Let her go,” he growled lowly.
Slingshot’s grin deepened incredulously as he laughed.
“Oh shit, she’s yours?” he exclaimed. “This’s just too fucking perfect.”
“Lila!” your shout came from behind Ben, and you stepped around M.M. and Kimiko.
Ben held out a hand to keep you at bay. He kept his eyes on Slingshot, but Ben heard your gasp. His stomach dipped, knowing your worry had to be reaching new heights as you took in the situation.
“Ben,” you uttered.
“I’ve got this,” he said to you.
“You don’t got shit, old man,” Slingshot snapped. He shot you a smirk next. “She’s your bitch? Figures.”
“Just let her go,” you implored. You had tears brimming in your eyes. “We can negotiate your release if you promise to be more responsible.”
Ben shot you a glance then. He didn’t intend for this fucker to live, let alone walk the streets of New York again. But he supposed any bluff was worth it at this point.
Meanwhile, seeing the distress on her parents’ faces made Lila begin to break down into tears. She whined, pushing against the supe holding her, wanting to be let go.
“It’s okay, sweetie,” Slingshot cooed. “You’re just gonna take a little trip with me.”
“No!” a ragged shout tore from your throat when he took a few backward steps down the hall.
Ben held you back from following him, all while he tensed with rage. M.M. and Kimiko were also poised to try and stop the supe. But Slingshot tightened his hold on Lila in warning.
“Back the fuck off,” he demanded. “Once I get to JFK and get my ass on a plane, maybe, maybe you see your daughter aga—”
He had to stop short, as he sensed something just outside of his peripheral vision.
It was Butcher, coming at him to swing a baseball bat at the supe’s head.
You screamed in protest, but Butcher was relying on the supe’s reflexes to dodge the bat. He wasn’t disappointed. Slingshot dodged. Though in his distraction, it gave Ben the opening he needed to step into his orbit and land a solid punch across Slingshot’s face.
It not only cracked his jaw, but also caught him off guard enough for his grip on the child to loosen. Ben grabbed his daughter and turned her away in a protective embrace.
Then Frenchie brought Slingshot down with the prongs of a massive taser clipping onto his nipples. He jolted and screamed—and went down hard on the tile floor.
While Hughie and M.M. ushered in the rest of the security team to swarm in and take the supe into custody, you raced forward to Ben and Lila in tears.
Lila was also crying and clinging to Ben’s neck, shaking like a leaf.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” he said quietly, so only she could hear. Lila whimpered and burrowed tighter against his neck.
Tears streamed down your face, but you tried to breathe through it. You rubbed her back and checked her over, making sure she wasn’t hurt.
For Ben, the force of his relief was pounding in his ears. He briefly closed his eyes as he held his daughter closer.
When he opened them again, he met your gaze. You couldn’t speak. All you could do was grab onto his wrist for support. He gave that to you, wrapping his free arm around your waist and pulling you into his side.
“Frank,” he said. His voice was a sharp command. The other man was ready to carry out whatever Ben asked. He also looked relieved to see that Lila was all right.
“Pull the car around,” said Ben. Frank nodded, and went to do just that.
Ben turned to watch in satisfaction when Frenchie and M.M. hauled up a still twitching Slingshot. Butcher slapped a pair of electroshock handcuffs on him that would keep him better contained this time—courtesy of the S.A. armory. He nodded over at Ben, and the latter returned the gesture.
You missed it all, as you were preoccupied with comforting your daughter.
“It’s okay, honey. We’re going home,” you gently whispered to Lila, who was still hiding her face in Ben’s neck. You shared a look with him, and he gave you a short nod. His hand moved to the small of your back, both protective and possessive as the three of you moved towards the garage exit.
There Frank waited with the car that would take your family home.
You watched Ben with the beginning of tears brimming in your eyes. You managed to hold them at bay while he set Lila down in her bed. You’d just finished giving her a bath and helping her get into her pajamas after a quiet, somewhat tense dinner.
Lila still seemed upset in her unusually quiet mood, which you knew was understandable. Ben sat at her bedside and soothed a hand over her head, brushing her cheek with his thumb.
“You’ve had a crazy friggin’ day, huh?” he asked. Lila didn’t want to look at him, but he encouraged it with gentle fingers brushing her chin, teasing the tip of her nose. She hinted at a smile and finally met his eyes. He smiled back at her, if more reserved. But his expression turned serious again.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. He could see it. She had been more or less fine throughout dinner, but now she’d turned quiet and withdrawn again. She only got like that when she was upset about something.
Lila toyed with the ear of her stuffed animal, Charlie. Frank had retrieved it for her from the daycare.
“Sorry I talked to strangers,” Lila mumbled.
You had to bite the inside of your lip so you wouldn’t cry. You came over to sit on the other side of her bed. You sniffed and shook your head, but Ben beat you to what you wanted to say.
“You’re not in trouble, all right? We’re not mad,” he said.
Lila’s lower lip wobbled. Ben sighed and picked her up, plopping her down in his lap. She hugged him as tight as she could and he held her back, warm and secure.
“You know I’m always gonna be there to keep you safe. You never have to worry or be afraid,” he said.
You carded your fingers through Lila’s hair so she knew you were there too. Usually, the roles were reversed, where you were doing the comforting and Ben was the solid support. Right now though, you just didn’t have the words. Not when guilt was eating you from the inside out.
Fortunately, your husband did have the words, after he heaved a sigh.
“I might raise my voice, sometimes, but uh…you never have to be afraid of me either. Okay?” he said.
"Mhmm," Lila agreed.
You laid hand on Ben's arm, gently squeezing. He met your gaze, and knew what you were prodding with just that look in your eyes.
Briefly, he hesitated before he looked back down at his daughter.
"I'm sorry I scared you," he said.
Lila nodded against his chest. “It's okay.”
“Good,” he said, laying a kiss on her forehead. “All right, you ready to go to bed?”
She clung to him and made a sound of refusal.
You were finally able to crack a smile. You leaned down by her ear.
“You want Daddy to read you a story first?” you asked.
Ben shot you a look at the way you volunteered him for that. He was tired and drained.
But one hopeful, shiny look from his daughter, and he folded like a deck of cards.
Later, when Lila was asleep, you tucked her in one last time and Ben turned out the light. He kept the door cracked open, just in case she called for either one of you tonight.
Then, somehow, you and Ben ended up in the kitchen instead of the bedroom. As exhausted as both of you were, you needed this moment to decompress, with one of your old favorite pastimes…
He broke out the whiskey while you found an appropriate midnight snack, and then a seat with him at the breakfast bar. The two of you shared a companionable silence, as well as a large bag of sea salt and vinegar chips.
That was sort of how you felt inside.
“Today can’t happen again,” Ben said, breaking the silence.
You looked over at him, but he was looking beyond you. Maybe so he didn’t have to show you how deeply he’d been rattled. You knew him far too well for that.
“Of course not,” you replied. And you released a sigh. “So here’s what I’m thinking. From now on I’ll work from home, so I can watch Lila until she goes to preschool.”
Ben got ready to argue, but you held up a hand. The other went to rest over your belly. You had scheduled an ultrasound with Dr. Tonya Baker tomorrow, just to make sure all was well after this ordeal.
“I already plan to take my maternity leave when this guy rolls into town,” you said with a smile. “Then, when I’m ready, and if it’s feasible, I can continue to work from home until all the kids are in school.”
Ben’s lips twitched humorlessly. He should’ve known you’d continue making this a negotiation. He set down his glass, and he reached out to slide a hand over yours, across your belly. He took in a deep breath. But when he let it go, you sensed you still hadn’t convinced him.
“Listen, I know you don’t want me to work—” you began.
“It’s not that,” he said. He made sure you looked him in the eyes when he said it. “It’s not.”
Despite yourself, you read the sincerity in his words. It had you pausing, waiting for him to continue.
“You know damn well…that just being around me is dangerous,” he said. “To you, and to Lila. But you being connected with Supe Affairs, working these missions, even from behind a desk, it’s a fucking risk. It’ll always be a risk.”
You considered that with new understanding. You took his hand with both of yours.
“Ben, this life, this work…it’s the same for me as it is for you. It’s all I know how to do. It’s what I’m wired for. So that’s why it’s hard for me to turn down that dial,” you explained. “But look, I understand what you’re saying. Believe me, I do. And today…today was…”
Your breath hitched as tears stung in your eyes. Ben shook his head and tugged you closer.
“Come ‘ere,” he said.
You left your chair to go to him. You stood between his long legs while he pulled you into a warm embrace. Logically, you knew that what happened today wasn’t your fault. However, part of you still felt like a failure of a mother for underestimating the risks of having your daughter at the S.A.
You should’ve known better, you berated yourself. And yet, it was Ben’s words that stopped your train of thought.
“Today wasn't on you,” he said. "Get that thought outta your head."
He knew you well too, and this was one of those times. You wept harder against him, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. He held you, comforted you until you began to calm down.
“Take your maternity leave early,” he said. His deep voice was a rumble. “You’re going to have your hands full with Lila when I’m not here. Unless we hire someone to help you.”
It was an idea you could consider, but who could you trust? That was the question.
Maybe your mother? you thought. You knew she was thinking of retiring from her job in a couple of years anyway.
You sighed and slipped your fingers through Ben’s hair. Your hand came to rest on the back of his neck as you leaned against him.
When Lila came into your lives, you had been so excited to start a family that you hadn’t considered the non-physical side effects. Namely, the sacrifices you would have to make in order to keep your family safe.
Before you met Ben, your job was your life. But today reminded you that your daughter…and your unborn son, were more important to you than your job. No matter how important that job might be for the rest of the world.
“Let’s talk about this more tomorrow,” you said, shaking your head. “I can’t think anymore.”
After a beat of hesitation, he agreed with a nod. Like so many battles before, whatever compromise you and Ben finally reached would be hard won. His hand found your cheek and caressed your skin.
“You still try my fucking patience, you know that?” he muttered.
You smiled tiredly. “Did you really expect that to change?”
He scoffed. Even so, he guided you off his shoulder so that he could claim your lips. His kiss tasted like the burn of whiskey. You met his demanding lips in kind, though you were the first one to part from him slowly.
“I love you,” you whispered a reminder.
Ben nodded and pressed a kiss to your forehead. He lingered there for a moment, as if he could pause the world for a while.
He eventually let out a breath through his nose and allowed himself to be honest.
“I love you too,” he said.
With that shared understanding, he stood from his seat. He drained the last of his glass before he bent to gather you up into his arms. You yelped in surprise, clinging to his shoulders.
“Time for some rest,” Ben said. There was a certain smile on his face, gentler than usual.
He forged a path towards the bedroom. You sighed and laid your head against his chest.
For once, you didn’t argue with him.
AN: I've been wanting to put this one out for a while now. 💚💚 I so hope you enjoyed this chapter of the BMD verse! Do you like how their little family is evolving? 😘
Ko-Fi Me ☕
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You Call It Madness But I Call It Love
Series Masterlist
Pairing: Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV
Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy. This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters fluctuate between past and present, beginning in 1934. SPOILERS FOR THE BOYS S3
Chapter 1: You Shouldn't Have Answered the Door
Chapter 2: Late Night Visitor
Chapter 3: Summer Has to End Someday
Chapter 4: It's My Party and I'll Eat Cake If I Want To
Chapter 5: The Man, The Myth, The Legend
Chapter 6: Batter Up
Chapter 7: Are We Old Friends Or Old Enemies?
Chapter 8: Jealousy Doesn't Look Good On Anybody Except...
Chapter 9: Wedding Bells or Gong of Destruction?
Chapter 10: How Did It End Up Like This?
Chapter 11: I Can't Think With You Yelling At Me!
Chapter 12: My Heart Is Beating For You Constantly
Chapter 13: You Made A Plaything Out of Romance
Chapter 14: You're All I'm Dreaming Of
Chapter 15: What Do You Know About Love?
Chapter 16: Please Come Back To Me
Chapter 17: How Could I Ever Forget?
CHAPTER 18: COMING SOON!
Last Updated: 05/18/2024
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✨Stupid Movie Night✨
Summary: You and Ben had been through a lot lately. A movie night with friends was obviously not a good idea. Or was it?
Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader
Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, anxious Reader, Ben being a huge dick, hurting you - but also a soft little bean, kinda depressing guys
Word Count: 5365
A/N: I've been on this for what feels like forever and I hope you like it. 💙
English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨
As you and Ben prepared for the movie night with Annie and Hughie, the atmosphere crackled with tension. You busied yourself with selecting an outfit, your excitement palpable as you anticipated spending time with friends. Meanwhile, Ben lounged indifferently on the couch, scrolling through his phone with disdain evident on his face.
"Why do we have to go to this stupid movie night anyway?", Ben grumbled, his annoyance and disdain dripping from every word.
You sighed, your patience wearing thin as you turned to face him. "Because, Ben, we agreed to spend time with our friends."
Ben scoffed. "I don't care about them. I just care about you, babe", he said, his tone dripping with possessiveness.
Your eyes narrowed, your frustration bubbling to the surface. "You know what, stay here and I'll go alone”.
Ben's expression darkened. "You're not going without me", he stated firmly, his tone brooking no argument.
You bristled at his assertion, your resolve hardening. "Watch me", you retorted, storming past him to grab your coat.
A tense silence settled between the two of you as you stood at an impasse, your relationship hanging in the balance. After a moment, Ben's pride gave way to a begrudging acknowledgment of your independence. With a resigned sigh, he followed you out the door, his ego bruised but his desire to keep you by his side outweighing his disdain for socializing with anyone but you.
As you made your way to Hughie and Annie's house, Ben's resentment simmered beneath the surface, his muttering curses punctuating the silence between the two of you.
You glanced over at him, your frustration evident in your furrowed brow. "Could you at least try to be civil?", you snapped, your tone tinged with exasperation.
Ben scoffed, his lips twisting into a sneer. "Why bother? None of these people matter except you, Y/N", he spat.
You shook your head in disbelief. "Ben. We're here to spend time with our friends, whether you like it or not".
Ben rolled his eyes, his disdain palpable. "Fine, but don't expect me to enjoy myself", he muttered darkly.
You sighed, your frustration mounting. "Just try to keep your attitude in check, okay? For my sake, if not for yours".
Ben grunted in response, his resentment simmering just beneath the surface as you arrived at your destination, tensions thickening the air between the two of you.
As you approached Hughie and Annie's house, Ben plastered on a fake smile.
"Welcome to the land of fun and excitement", he muttered under his breath, his tone laced with insincerity.
You shot him a pissed glare. "Benjamin! Behave yourself, damn it!”, you hissed through clenched teeth.
Ben shrugged, his facade slipping slightly as he grudgingly acquiesced. "Sure thing, darling", he replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
You bristled at the nickname. Your annoyance reached its breaking point. "Don't call me that", you snapped, your voice sharp with frustration.
Ben's smirk widened, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as he leaned in closer to you. "What's the matter, sweetheart? Can't handle a little affection?", he taunted.
Your jaw clenched, your temper flaring as you fought to keep your composure. "Stop it, Ben", you warned.
With a dismissive wave of his hand, Ben brushed off your warning, his arrogance unyielding. "Relax, babe", he quipped, his smirk never faltering. "I'm just trying to be friendly."
You let out a frustrated sigh, knowing that arguing with Ben would only escalate the situation further. With a resigned shake of your head, you turned away, steeling yourself for the evening ahead, determined not to let Ben's behavior ruin the evening.
Then the front door finally opened
"Hey, guys! So glad you could make it", Annie exclaimed, pulling you into a tight hug before turning to Ben.
Ben forced another insincere smile, his eyes flickering with annoyance as he exchanged pleasantries with Annie. "Yeah, wouldn't miss it for the world", he muttered under his breath, his sarcasm barely concealed.
You shot him another warning look, your gaze flashing with irritation as you subtly nudged him in the side. "Behave", you hissed through gritted teeth, your frustration palpable.
Ben rolled his eyes, but reluctantly toned down his sarcasm.
As you entered the house, Hughie greeted you warmly, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "Hey, guys! Good to see you both", he said, stepping forward to shake your hands.
Ben's expression remained stoic as he accepted Hughie's greeting, his disdain evident in the way he glanced around the room. When Hughie offered you drinks, Ben's nose wrinkled in disgust as he eyed the selection of beer.
"Seriously? This is the best you've got?", Ben muttered under his breath, his arrogance seeping into his tone as he looked at the array of beers with disdain.
You looked at him, silently urging him to keep his complaints to himself, but Ben ignored you. "I'll take a whiskey, if you have one", he said.
"Sure", Annie muttered, before heading to the kitchen.
As Annie returned with a glass of whiskey for Ben, the group settled in for the evening. Despite Bens abrasive personality, Hughie and Annie welcomed him with open arms, knowing that beneath his tough exterior, Ben was still an integral part of their circle of friends.
As the evening progressed, the group settled into a comfortable rhythm, catching up on each other's lives and sharing stories over drinks. While Hughie and Annie chatted animatedly with you, Ben remained mostly silent, nursing his whiskey as he watched a football game playing on the TV in the background.
Occasionally, he'd interject with a comment or two about the game, his attention focused solely on the screen in front of him. Despite his disinterest in the conversation swirling around him, Hughie and Annie tried to include him, tossing the occasional glance his way and asking his opinion on various topics.
Ben responded with characteristic indifference, offering brief, monosyllabic answers before returning his focus to the game. You shot him a concerned glance, silently urging him to engage more with your friends, but Ben brushed off your concern with a dismissive wave of his hand, his attention firmly fixed on the TV.
As Annie started the movie, Ben couldn't help but roll his eyes, irritated at being pulled away from the football game. He begrudgingly shifted his attention to the screen, his annoyance evident in the way he crossed his arms and leaned back on the couch.
Beside him, you snuggled closer, seeking comfort in his embrace as Annie did with Hughie. Ben's initial instinct was to push you away, his pride and image as America's strongest Supe overriding his desire for affection. He shot you a brief, irritated glance, silently warning you to keep your distance, but you seemed oblivious to his discomfort as you nestled against him, seeking warmth and reassurance.
Ben's frustration grew as he struggled to maintain his facade of invincibility, torn between his need for affection and his fear of appearing vulnerable. He loved you, of that there was no doubt, but he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that allowing himself to indulge in moments of intimacy would only weaken his carefully constructed image.
As you rested your head on his chest, you couldn't shake the feeling of discomfort radiating from Ben. His tense posture and the subtle stiffness in his embrace leaving you feeling confused and hurt. You glanced up at him, searching his eyes for some semblance of reassurance, but found only a distant look that sent a shiver of unease down your spine.
"Is everything okay, Ben?", you whispered, your voice barely above a murmur as you tried to quell the rising panic in your chest.
Ben hesitated, torn between his desire to maintain his tough exterior and his fear of hurting you. He opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat, his pride warring with his guilt.
Your heart sank as you watched him struggle, your mind racing with self-doubt and insecurity. Did you pushed him too far with bringing him here? Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over as you fought to keep her emotions in check.
Things really haven't been going well between you in the last few weeks, so your nerves have been frayed and your feelings are completely confused
"I'm sorry", you choked out, your voice trembling with emotion. "I didn't mean to... I just wanted to be close to you".
Ben's heart clenched at the sight of your tears: With a heavy sigh, he wrapped his arms around you more tightly, pulling you into a tight hug.
"No, Y/N, it's not you", he murmured, his voice soft with sincerity.
You buried your face against his chest, your tears mingling with the fabric of his shirt as you clung to him desperately, relieved to hear his words of reassurance.
As you buried your face in Ben's chest, Annie's super hearing caught the quiet exchange between you, her expression darkening with anger at Ben's apparent callousness. She shot him a piercing glare, her eyes narrowing with disapproval, but chose to remain silent, not wanting to escalate the situation further.
Ben met Annie's gaze with a sense of unease, realizing the weight of his actions and the hurt he had caused you.
Feeling the weight of Annie's silent judgment, Ben tightened his embrace around you. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering in a silent apology as he whispered words of love.
With a deep breath, Ben glanced over at Annie, his expression contrite as he silently acknowledged her disapproval.
Despite the tension in the room, you found solace in Ben's touch as he gently caressed your lower back, a silent gesture of affection and apology. You leaned into his touch, allowing yourself to relax into his embrace.
You knew that beneath his tough exterior lay a man who loved you deeply.
With each tender stroke of his hand against your back, you felt a surge of warmth and reassurance.
As the movie ended and the credits rolled, Hughie and Annie turned to you with smiles, eager to discuss the film.
"So, what do you think?", Hughie asked.
You glanced over at Ben, who was engrossed in his phone, before turning back to Hughie and Annie with a forced smile. "It was... interesting", you replied diplomatically, your tone tinged with uncertainty.
Annie raised an eyebrow, exchanging a knowing glance with Hughie. "Interesting?", she echoed, a playful smirk playing at her lips. "That's one way to put it".
You chuckled weakly, your discomfort evident as you tried to navigate the conversation without drawing attention to Ben's lack of engagement. "Well, you know how it is. Different strokes for different folks", you said with a nervous laugh.
Hughie and Annie nodded in understanding, sensing your discomfort and choosing to drop the subject for now. Instead, they launched into a discussion about their plans for the upcoming weekend, eager to shift the focus away from the awkwardness that hung in the air.
You breathed a silent sigh of relief, grateful for your friends' understanding as you joined in the conversation, your mind still lingering on Ben's distant demeanor. You knew that the two of you had a lot to talk about once you were alone, but for now, you were content to bask in the warmth of your friends' company, thankful for the distractions they provided.
As the conversation continued and you were just about to get some snacks from the kitchen with Annie, you felt a sudden tug on your arm, causing you to wince in pain. You turned to see Ben gripping your arm with more force than necessary, his expression clouded with frustration.
"Where do you think you're going?", he muttered, his voice low and harsh as he tightened his grip on your arm.
Your eyes widened in surprise at the sudden change in Ben's demeanor, your heart racing with a mixture of fear and confusion. "I was just going to get some snacks from the kitchen", you replied hesitantly, trying to keep your voice steady despite the fear bubbling in your chest.
Ben's grip on your arm loosened slightly, but his expression remained cold and distant. "Well, hurry up then", he snapped, releasing your arm with a rough shove.
You recoiled at the rough treatment, your arm throbbing with pain as you scrambled to your feet, eager to escape the uncomfortable situation. You shot Ben a wary glance, but his attention was already back on his phone, his indifference like a barrier between you.
Feeling shaken and unsettled, you quickly made your way to the kitchen, your mind racing with questions and doubts. You knew that something was off with Ben tonight, but you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in your stomach as you tried to make sense of his sudden change in behavior.
In the safety of the kitchen, Annie’s concerned expression softened as she approached you, her voice barely above a whisper as she spoke. “Hey, are you okay?”, she asked, her tone laced with genuine concern. You forced a tight smile, your nerves still on edge. “Yeah, I’m fine”, you replied, your voice strained as you tried to downplay the situation. Annie’s eyes narrowed slightly, sensing that something was amiss. “You don’t seem fine”, she remarked quietly, her gaze searching your face for any sign of distress. You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal to your friend. “It’s just… Ben’s been acting strange tonight”, you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper as you glanced back towards the living room, where Ben sat lost in his own world. Annie’s expression darkened with understanding as she placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry, Y/N. You don’t deserve to be treated like that”, she said softly, her voice filled with sympathy.
“I just… he’s usually not like this, well, at least not to me”, you sighed. “I thought things were going well between us again, but tonight… he’s always got some bad days, but today, it’s worse”.
Annie listened attentively. She reached out, pulling you into a gentle hug, offering comfort and solace in the face of uncertainty.
"I'm sorry you're going through this", Annie murmured, her voice soft and soothing. "But you're not responsible for Ben's actions, especially if he's dealing with his own demons".
You leaned into the embrace, finding solace in Annie's warmth and understanding. "I just wish he would open up to me more", you whispered, your voice tinged with sadness. "I want to help him, but he pushes me away whenever I try".
As Ben continued to scroll through his phone in the living room, his attention drifted momentarily from the screen as he caught snippets of conversation drifting in from the kitchen. Despite his best efforts to tune them out, his super hearing picked up on Annie and your hushed discussion.
His heart clenched with a mixture of guilt and frustration as he heard your voice tremble with emotion. A pang of regret washed over him as he realized the impact his behavior had on you, the weight of his actions heavy on his conscience.
Part of him wanted to storm into the kitchen, to confront you and demand forgiveness, but another part held him back, his pride and fear of vulnerability holding him captive. He felt a surge of shame wash over him as he listened to Annie's comforting words, knowing that he didn't deserve your love and understanding.
As the conversation faded into the background, Ben was left alone with his thoughts, grappling with the harsh reality of his own shortcomings. He knew that he had a lot of work to do if he wanted to salvage his relationship with you, but deep down, he feared that he may have already pushed you too far away.
As the conversation in the kitchen drew to a close, you and Annie returned to the living room, your expressions softened by the private exchange. You approached Ben, a small smile tugging at your lips as you handed him his favorite beer, the one you had brought with from home.
Ben glanced up from his phone, surprise flickering in his eyes as he took the beer from you, his fingers brushing against yours in a fleeting moment of connection. He caught the subtle warmth in your smile, a silent acknowledgment of your shared history and the unspoken understanding between the two of you.
For a moment, the weight of your earlier conversation hung heavy in the air, but Ben found himself at a loss for words. He wanted to apologize, to express his remorse for his earlier behavior, but the words caught in his throat, his pride holding him back.
Instead, he met your gaze with a tentative smile of his own, silently thanking you for the gesture.
You didn't say a word as you returned to your seat beside him, but the warmth of your smile and the gentle touch of your hand on his arm spoke volumes.
As the evening drew to a close, the group made their way towards the door. Ben and you stepped outside into the cool night air, the tension from earlier still lingering between you. You glanced up at Ben, your expression softening with a mixture of affection and concern. "Are you okay?", you asked gently, reaching out to touch his arm.
Ben's reserved demeanor didn't go unnoticed by you. You withdrew your hand, wrapping your arms around yourself as a chill swept through the night air.
"Ben, please", you pleaded softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I hate when we're like this".
"Just… let's go home", he muttered, his tone curt and dismissive.
Your heart sank at his response, hurt flickering in your eyes as you recoiled from his coldness. You bit your lip, fighting back the sting of tears as you struggled to make sense of his abrupt dismissal.
"Fine", you said quietly, your voice tinged with resignation. "Let's go".
As you walked home in silence, the tension between you hung heavy in the air, the weight of Ben's words lingering like a bitter aftertaste.
At Home you quickly made your way to the bathroom, getting rid of your clothes and bracing yourself on the sink. Tears already streaming down your face. It was too much for you. Everything.
That’s when you felt your boyfriend behind you.
As Ben caught sight of your tear-streaked reflection in the mirror, his heart clenched with a pang of guilt and regret. He stepped closer to you, his own reflection looming large behind yours, his movements hesitant yet determined.
Without a word, Ben wrapped his arms around your naked body, pulling you close to him as he held you tightly against his chest. He watched your reflection in the mirror.
Your sobs echoed in the small space, your brokenness palpable as you leaned into Ben's embrace. "Do you... do you really love me?", you whispered, your voice fragile with uncertainty.
Ben's heart stuttered at your words, his own turmoil bubbling to the surface. He struggled to find the right words, his pride and emotional distance warring with his desire to comfort you.
"Of course I do", he replied finally, his voice strained but sincere. "But you know how I am, Y/N. I'm not good with... with all this emotional stuff".
Your shoulders shook with silent sobs as you buried your face against Ben's chest, your heart breaking with the weight of his words. You knew that he struggled to express his emotions, but the pain of his indifference cut deeper than you cared to admit.
Ben held you tighter, his own emotions roiling beneath the surface as he grappled with the realization of how deeply he had hurt you. Again. He wanted to reassure you, to promise you that he would do better, but the words caught in his throat, his pride and stubbornness holding him back.
In the end, all he could do was hold you close, hoping that his actions spoke louder than his words
As you trembled in his arms, Ben’s heart twisted at the sight of your pain. He cursed himself for causing you such distress, his stomach churning with guilt. With a heavy sigh, he tightened his embrace.
“Let me show you just how much I love you”, he mumbled.
“Ben”, you whispered brokenly, your voice barely above a whisper as you looked up at him, your eyes shimmering with tears.
Without another word, Ben lifted you effortlessly into his arms, your weight feeling insignificant against his strength. He cradled you close to his chest, your head resting against his shoulder as he carried you out of the bathroom and into your bedroom. He lays your naked form on the bed, hovering over you.
As Ben tenderly kissed away your tears, he felt your body relax beneath him, your sobs gradually giving way to soft giggles. He smiled against your skin, the sound of your laughter like music to his ears.
"Sorry about the beard", he murmured, his voice gentle as he continued to pepper your face with featherlight kisses. "I promise I'll shave tomorrow".
You shook your head, your laughter mingling with your tears as you reached up to caress his cheek. "I don't mind", you whispered, your voice filled with love and affection. "I love your beard".
With a soft chuckle, Ben leaned down to capture your lips in a slow, tender kiss, savoring the taste of you against his own. He felt you respond eagerly, your body arching against his
As Ben continued to caress your skin with tenderness and care, he couldn’t shake the feeling of unworthiness that gnawed at him. He knew deep down that he didn’t deserve your love, not after the way he had treated you earlier. But in this moment, with you wrapped in his arms, your laughter and affection washing over him like a balm for his wounded soul, he couldn’t help but feel a glimmer of hope. He wanted to make things right, to show you just how much you meant to him, even if it meant stepping out of his comfort zone.
As you carefully pulled off Ben's shirt, he couldn't help but his instincts screamed at him to assert dominance, to remind you of his strength and power. But as he looked into your eyes, filled with nothing but love and tenderness, he knew he had to suppress those urges.
"Easy there", he muttered.
Your hands paused for a moment, a flicker of hurt crossing your features before you continued, your movements careful and deliberate. You didn't say anything in response, but Ben could see the disappointment in your eyes, a silent rebuke for his callousness. Again.
Ignoring the pang of guilt that twisted in his gut, Ben forced himself to focus on the moment. He reached out to caress your cheek, his touch gentler than he had ever allowed himself to be.
"You know I don't do this often", he muttered, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable. "But for you, I'll make an exception".
Your lips quirked into a small smile at his words, your love for him shining through despite his flaws. "I know, Ben", you whispered, your fingers trailing lightly over his skin. "And I appreciate it".
With a nod, Ben leaned in to capture your lips in a tender kiss, his heart swelling with a mixture of love and gratitude.
Ben reached down to unbutton his jeans, his movements slow and deliberate.
As he trailed soft kisses down your body, his lips lingered over every curve and contour, savoring the taste of your skin against his lips. He worshipped you with each touch, his movements slow and deliberate as he explored every inch of you with care and tenderness.
When he reached the apex of your thighs, he paused, his breath catching in his throat as he gazed up at you with a mixture of desire and reverence. He could feel you trembling beneath him, your anticipation palpable.
With a gentle touch, Ben parted your legs, his fingers tracing delicate patterns along your inner thighs as he teased you with featherlight kisses. He felt you gasp in response, your hands clutching at the sheets beneath you as you arched your back in pleasure.
As he lowered his head between your legs, Ben closed his eyes, losing himself in the taste and scent of your arousal. He moved with agonizing slowness, his tongue tracing languid circles around your most intimate areas, eliciting soft moans of pleasure from your lips.
With each flick of his tongue, Ben felt himself grow more and more aroused, his own need building to a fever pitch. But he forced himself to hold back, to maintain the slow and steady pace that he knew you loved.
And as he continued to worship you with his mouth, he felt your body respond to his touch, your pleasure building to a crescendo that threatened to consume both of you.
As you reached the peak of your pleasure, your body tensed and trembled beneath Ben's touch. With a soft cry of ecstasy, you came undone, your release washing over you in waves of pure bliss.
Ben held himself back, resisting the urge to give in to his own desires as he continued to pleasure you with his tongue. He felt you shudder and moan as you rode out the aftershocks of your orgasm, your body trembling with the intensity of your pleasure.
When you finally began to relax, Ben withdrew from you, his lips lingering over your skin as he pressed soft kisses along your body. Your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him close.
With a mischievous smirk, Ben looked down at you, his eyes sparkling with desire as he whispered, "Want to get fucked nice and slow, just how you like it?".
Your cheeks flushed a deep shade of red at his bold question, your breath catching in your throat as you met his intense gaze. You could feel the undeniable heat of his arousal pressing against you, his erection throbbing against your wet folds.
Your heart raced with anticipation as you nodded, your voice barely above a whisper as you replied, "Yes, Ben. Please".
With a satisfied grin, Ben leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his hands roaming over your body with a newfound urgency. He positioned himself between your legs, his gaze locking with yours.
As Ben guided himself inside you, he exerted a tremendous amount of restraint, controlling his movements with a deliberate slowness that bordered on agonizing. Every inch of his body burned with desire, but he clenched his fists around the bed frame above your head, channeling all his strength into maintaining the gentle pace you craved.
With each measured thrust, Ben savored the exquisite sensation of being enveloped by your warmth. He buried himself deep inside you, relishing the intimate connection you shared, his gaze locked with yours as he slowly started to move.
Despite the overwhelming urge to surrender to his own desires, Ben remained steadfast in his commitment to pleasuring you.
As the two of you moved together in the darkness of your bedroom, Ben pressed gentle kisses along your neck, his lips trailing caresses along your skin. He whispered softly against your ear, his voice filled with a mixture of desire and tenderness.
"Is this nice, baby?", he murmured, his breath warm against her skin. "Do you like it when I take things slow for you?".
Your response was a soft moan of pleasure, your body arching against his as you surrendered yourself to the sensation of his lips on your skin. You buried your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer.
He shifted his weight slightly, adjusting his angle to deepen his thrusts.
As Ben continued to move inside you, he felt a primal urge building within him, driving him to take you harder, faster. But he resisted, determined to maintain the slow and steady pace that you wanted.
"You feel so tight, Y/N", he groaned, his voice filled with longing as he continued to thrust into you with measured precision. "I want to make you feel every inch of me".
With each thrust, Ben focused on savoring the sensation of your warmth enveloping him, his movements deliberate and controlled. He alternated between shallow and deep thrusts, teasing you with the promise of pleasure as he explored every inch of you with care.
Your body responded eagerly to his touch, your moans growing louder with each passing moment as you surrendered herself completely to the pleasure coursing through you.
You arched your back in ecstasy, your fingers digging into his skin as you urged him on with desperate cries of longing.
As Ben continued to move inside you, he felt a surge of desire building within him. With a gentle touch, he traced his fingers lightly your clit, teasing you with light caresses that sent shivers of pleasure coursing through your body.
Your response was immediate and intense. You cried out in ecstasy as your body convulsed with pleasure, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Ben could feel your walls clenching around him, your release gripping him with an intensity he had never felt before.
He held you close as you rode out the waves of pleasure, his own desire building to a fever pitch as he watched you.
As your body convulsed with pleasure, Ben couldn’t hold back any longer. The intensity of your orgasm coupled with the sight of you surrendering to ecstasy was too much for him to bear. With a guttural groan, he gave in to the overwhelming sensation, spilling himself deep inside you.
As the waves of pleasure subsided and the two of you lay tangled together in the aftermath, Ben let out a contented sigh, feeling more relaxed and fulfilled than he had in a long time. He held you close, your bodies still pressed together in an intimate embrace, your breaths coming slow and steady.
Your expression was one of pure bliss as you gazed up at him, your eyes shining with love and gratitude. You reached out to caress his cheek, your touch gentle and affectionate as you praised him for his efforts.
"Ben, that was amazing", you murmured, your voice soft with emotion. "I know how much you prefer it rough, but thank you for taking it slow for me. It was exactly what I needed".
Ben's heart swelled with pride at your words, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he leaned in to kiss your forehead. He knew that he had pushed himself out of his comfort zone for you, and seeing the satisfaction on your face made it all worth it.
"I'd do anything for you, Y/N", he whispered, his voice filled with love and devotion. "You mean everything to me".
As you lay intertwined in the aftermath of your lovemaking, Ben reflected on his last words, he couldn't help but cringe at his own awkwardness. With a sheepish smile, he reached out to pull you even closer to him, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace.
"Forget what I just fucking said", he murmured, his voice tinged with embarrassment. "It was fucking cheesy”.
You chuckled softly, your fingers tracing soothing patterns on his chest as you looked up at him with a tender smile. "I wouldn't dream of forgetting. I love you, Ben".
As you drifted off to sleep in Ben's arms, he gently traced his fingers over your lower back and thighs with tender affection. His touch was light and soothing.
With each gentle caress, Ben felt a sense of peace wash over him, the weight of the world melting away as he focused solely on the woman he held in his arms. He marveled at the beauty and grace of your sleeping form, his heart swelling with love for you.
As the soft rhythm of your breathing filled the room, Ben pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering against you as he whispered words of love and adoration into the darkness. In that moment, surrounded by the warmth and intimacy of the dark, he knew that he was the luckiest man alive to have you by his side.
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A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰
#jensen ackles#soldier boy#soldier boy x female reader#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy x y/n#the boys#smut#hurtful#hurt/comfort#the boys hughie#hughie campbell
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undercover ; billy butcher
fandom: the boys
pairing: billy x reader
summary: you have to go undercover as butcher’s wife to vought’s annual supe celebration - prompt (that i don’t remember where i saw it, i’m sorry!): “I bet you one hundred dollars that you’re hard right now.” *he stands up and drops $100 on the table*
notes: i wrote this in one day and you can tell!!! it’s so rushed, i’m so sorry, but also i’m just hot for this man and refuse to stop??? let me know what you think!
warnings: swearing, very small alcohol consumption, very light smut, and a bit of harassment from an unwelcome dude
word count: 6496
“You have a thing for Butcher?” Hughie gasps, the apartment door swinging open as he steps inside.
Annie’s eyes grow wide, her hand covering her mouth to try and hide her cheeky smile. You scowl at her before turning to Hughie, his face a comical mixture of disgust and amusement.
“What have I said about eavesdropping on movie night, Hubert?” you demand, calling him by the stupid nickname you know he hates.
He rolls his eyes, “I wasn’t eavesdropping, I texted Annie to say I was on my way home. It’s not my fault you’re practically shouting about the fact that you want to fu-”
“Hughie,” Annie giggles, “be careful.”
“Hey,” he says, turning to her, “I’m just repeating what I heard.”
You hold your face in your hands and groan, sinking back into the soft couch cushions and praying that they might open up and swallow you into a different dimension.
“I’m sorry,” Annie sighs, “I honestly just lost track of time.”
Hughie drops his keys and wallet on the kitchen bench alongside two plastic bags that wreak of cheap Chinese food. Your stomach grumbles at the smell, and you reluctantly pull yourself off the couch before dragging your feet toward the kitchen.
“So,” Hughie says with a grin, “how long has this been going on then?”
“Nothing is going on,” you state, “and it’s certainly none of your business.”
“Oh, come on, it’s not like I’m going to tell anyone,” he begins helping you unpack the bags of food, “besides, I had a sneaking suspicion. You do kind of look at him like-”
You pull a butterknife out of the draw and point it at him, “Like what?”
He freezes, his hands flying up on either side of his head in surrender.
Annie laughs again, “Okay, you two, cut it out.”
You put the knife down and retrieve three full sets of cutlery before setting a stack of bowls beside the containers of food. Hughie serves himself first before Annie fills her own bowl and you last, already shovelling mouthfuls of noodles into your mouth as you move back toward the couch.
“You know,” Hughie says between mouthfuls, “if you wanted to talk about it, I might be able to help.”
You scoff, “Yeah? How?”
He shrugs, “I don’t know, talk to him.”
“And say what?” you drop your fork into your bowl, mocking Hughie’s voice as you say, “Hey Butcher, do you think Y/N is hot, because I know she dreams about fucking you.”
He scowls at you, “I can be subtle.”
Annie giggles, hiding her face behind her bowl as Hughie casts his glare toward her.
“I appreciate your concern, Hughie,” you say, “but I think I’ll just stick to fantasising about him in the shower.”
His expression morphs into disgust as he begins choking on his mouthful of food, his face turning bright red. Annie’s laughter fills the room, and you join her while Hughie struggles to compose himself.
To your surprise, and relief, Hughie agrees to keep your little secret to himself. He doesn’t even make a stupid face the next day when the three of you arrive at the boys’ current hideout, finding MM, Frenchie, Kimiko, and the man himself huddled around the dining room table.
“Righ’ on time,” Butcher says with a grin, “let’s get to it, then.”
You knew he was excited about this next mission, if you could call it that. Everyone was, in fact, because thanks to Annie’s excellent intel, you were all attending Vought’s annual ball. A night of celebration to thank the mighty Supes for keeping the streets safe, or as Butcher liked to call it, Vought’s annual wank-fest.
“Your invitations are all sorted,” Annie says, pulling a small handful of envelopes out of her bag. “Hughie came up with all your aliases, so please stick to them, or you’ll be kicked out in a heartbeat. Security is tough at this thing, and there’ll be no talking yourselves out of a bad situation.”
She looks pointedly at Butcher, but his smirk only widens.
“Frenchie,” Hughie says, “you’re going as a member of the tech team, so you’ll be behind the scenes and keeping an eye on the cameras for anything suspicious.”
Frenchie rubs his hands together excitedly, taking the envelope from Annie and tearing it open.
“Monsieur Felipe Lavigne, senior security technician,” he announces, reading the ID card aloud.
“MM and Kimiko, you’ll be with me,” Hughie goes on, “we’ll be posing as press on behalf of the city council. There’s a huge group of council members and associates, so all we have to do is blend in.”
MM takes two envelopes and passes one to Kimiko.
Hughie turns to you, “I originally had you listed as press too, but then decided it might be smart to double down on Butcher’s alias, give him another level of cover, you know?”
You frown, tilting your head sceptically as he hands you and Butcher an envelope each.
“You’ll be attending as prospective stakeholders, invited by corporate to bask in the glory of Vought in the hopes that you’ll invest in their cause,” Hughie explains. “An affluent couple from upstate New York, recently immigrated from Britain after growing bored of your rich English lifestyle.”
You’re almost positive your brows have reached your hairline as you stare at the envelope in your hands, your trembling fingers struggling to pull the ID badge out.
“Brooklyn Williams,” you read aloud.
Annie shoots Hughie a look, promising that he would be paying for this later, and you realise that he must have made this decision in the past twelve hours without consulting her.
“William Williams,” Butcher says, frowning at Hughie, “really?”
Despite being the target of several unhappy stares, Hughie chuckles.
Frenchie snickers too, “At least you will not forget it, eh?”
“Smart move, Hughie,” MM speaks up, “Butcher is the one most likely to be caught, but with Y/N in tow, he might think twice about putting himself in danger.”
Butcher rolls his eyes, “Do none of you ‘ave any faith in me?”
Hughie, Frenchie, and MM respond in unison, “No.”
The seven of you spend the next two hours going over the details of your aliases and the agenda of the function. It’s going to be a huge event, which meant little risk of actually running into Homelander or anyone who might recognise any of you. Annie won’t be able to help on the night, being one of the spotlight attendees, but that isn’t what’s was making you nervous. You’re going to have to spend a good five hours pretending to be married to Butcher, the one man you desperately want and the one man you were trying very hard not to fall in love with.
After what feels like forever, Frenchie announces that he is going to get dinner and Annie bids you all goodbye to check in at Vought tower. Hughie sets his laptop up at the desk in the corner of the lounge room while MM excuses himself for his nightly facetime call with Janine.
Kimiko turns to you, signing a question about what you were all going to wear on the night.
“Annie helped me organise some things,” you reply, gesturing toward the suitcase by the door. “You should try it on now, and if you don’t like it we can find something else.”
You know Kimiko isn’t a fan of cocktail attire, and you definitely didn’t want her walking into the dragon’s den worrying about the way she looked or if she’d be able to fight should the need arise.
“What ‘bout me, love?” Butcher asks, his signature smirk curling the corner of his lips.
Your cheeks burn under his gaze, “You don’t get a choice, you’ll be wearing a suit.”
He chuckles, “I do love a stubborn woman, must’ve been why I married you.”
Your pulse thrums in your ears, and you fail to think of a sarcastic retort, instead turning away in the hopes that he hasn’t already noticed the bright colour in your cheeks.
Kimiko drops the case on its back with a thud, unzipping it quickly and throwing it open to pull out each of the bagged costumes. There are four suits of various styles with varying accessories, and two dresses. She stands holding the one labelled with her name, dragging the zip right down the middle and revealing the soft black fabric of her dress. It isn’t quite full length, hemmed just below the knee in a pencil skirt style and devoid of any embellishments. A simple black dress with long sleeves, fitted but flexible.
She grins, signing to you that it is perfect and thanking you for not putting her in anything ridiculous.
“We chose two pairs of shoes too,” you say, “in case you don’t want to wear the heels.”
Butcher strides toward the suitcase and picks up the last bag, but you follow him, quickly snatching it out of his hands before he can pull the zip.
“My dress can wait until the night,” you hold it behind your back for good measure, “I’m still not sure about it.”
He quirks one brow, “You’re not wearin’ latex, are ya?”
You roll your eyes before turning on your heel, taking your dress into your room and tucking it into the back of your closet. You fall back on your bed, your chest rising and falling with deep breaths as you try to calm your erratic pulse. It’s just one night, you can hold it together for one night, right?
The next two days pass in a blur of preparations and planning, and before you know it, you’re staring at the dress hanging in your closet with a towel wrapped around your body. Your hair is clean and curled, pulled into a half up do with twisted gold pins creating the illusion of diadem just below the crown of your head. You took a little longer to do your makeup than usual, out of practice in the art of winged eyeliner and false lashes, but in the end, you were proud. Now, the dress.
Your fingers are numb as you pull the zipper down, revealing the red silk material of the gown that Annie convinced you would be a good idea. You blame her for this just as much as Hughie.
“Come on, Y/N,” MM calls through your bedroom door, “we have to go.”
You sigh and throw your towel aside, hurriedly pulling the dress off its hanger. The material is cool against your skin, sliding easily over your curves and fitting your body like a tailor-made glove. You twist awkwardly to secure the zip before turning to the mirror.
The dress is floor length, a few inches of the red silk pooling at your feet, with a long slit reaching scandalously up to your left hip. The straps are about an inch thick, and the neck cowled, showcasing your breasts and the perfect amount cleavage. The silk hugs your torso, and you’re a little startled at just how good you feel in this dress.
Another knock at the door has you rushing to slip into your beige heels, and you check that your underwear are pulled high enough to not be seen in the slit of the dress before opening the door. MM’s jaw drops.
“Holy shit, Y/N.”
You blush, “Thanks.”
Being the gentleman he is, he tears his eyes away from you, offering you his arm with a cheeky grin plastered across his face.
In the lounge room, Kimiko is helping Frenchie with his tie and Hughie is struggling to secure his suspenders to his trousers. Your breath catches when your eyes land on Butcher, dressed in a classic and perfectly fitted black tux. He has even trimmed his beard and styled his hair, still a little dishevelled but holy shit, does the sight of him make your mouth water.
“Damn,” Hughie says when he sees you, “nice dress.”
“Nice suspenders.”
He chuckles, “Are we ready?”
Butcher turns to you, his jaw going slack and his eyes dark. Your chest squeezes, your lungs struggling to draw enough breath as your head spins from the lack of oxygen.
“Ready,” MM says beside you.
“Good,” Hughie tucks his ID badge into his shirt pocket, “I’ve organised two cars, one for Y/N and Butcher, and the other for the rest of us. Once we’re there, we can’t slip up, keep your masks up and don’t even look at anyone you think might recognise you.”
You check your small black clutch for your ID badge and phone.
“Earpieces are too risky tonight,” he continues, “so keep your phones on you, and if one of us is out, we all abort.”
Kimiko checks her own purse and the boys check their pockets before you all shuffle out the door. Hughie, MM, Frenchie, and Kimiko exit the building first, leaving you and Butcher alone in the lobby.
“You ready, sweethear’?” he asks, gazing at you with the same dark eyes as before.
You nod, “As I’ll ever be.”
After a minute, you exit the apartment and climb into the awaiting car. Butcher greets the driver as the car pulls away from the curb, and you take the chance to pull your phone out, typing out a quick message to Hughie.
‘I’m going to kill you.’
Your phone pings before you can put it away, and you quickly turn it to silent before reading his reply.
‘You’re welcome ;)’
A warm hand on your bare legs startles you, the heat sinking into your blood and making it sizzle through your veins.
“You sure you’re alrigh’?” Butcher asks.
“Yeah,” you mutter, “just nervous.”
His thumb rubs soft circles on your thigh, sending shockwaves of desire right to your core.
“Nothin’ to be worried ‘bout, love, I’ve got you.”
Your eyes almost roll back in your head at the sound of his deep voice. He truly does not know how much he does have you, all of you.
“Thanks, Billy,” you whisper, your voice unsteady.
His eyes don’t leave you for the duration of car ride, and your pulse refuses to settle. Anxiety and desire tangle in your stomach, twisting it into loops and winding the knot in your core even tighter than it already was.
Eventually, the car stops, and you both thank the driver before climbing out. You’re not at the main entrance of the building, but there is still a ridiculous number of security guards standing around, and barriers preventing anyone without an invitation from getting within twenty feet of the door. Butcher wraps an arm around your waist to guide you forward, his warmth shielding you from the cold night air.
“By the way,” he whispers, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, “you look fuckin’ delectable in that dress.”
Another wave of heat washes through your veins, and it takes every ounce of focus for you to not stumble up the walkway. Two security guards step forward as you both flash your ID badges.
“Mr. and Mrs. Williams,” the guard in front of Butcher says, scanning the barcodes on the badges, “welcome to Vought tower.”
The security guard in front of you is younger than the other, his blonde hair slicked back and his mouth etched into a sleazy smirk as his eyes rake up and down your body. He winks as he steps aside, and Butcher notices, his expression twisting into a scowl.
Just as you reach the doors, Butcher’s hand slips from your waist to your ass, squeezing it as he dips down and plants a hot kiss against your neck.
“Fuckin’ perve,” he mutters, before guiding you through the doors and down the corridor.
Your mouth is dry and your knees wobbly, but you move with practice and manage to appear cool and collected as you step into the huge event room. It’s extravagantly decorated with drapes of sheer fabric hanging from the high ceilings and a huge crystal chandelier in the centre. There are dozens of round tables, all set with fine silver-wear and obnoxious centrepieces made of red and white roses.
“Nice to know where all our money will be going if we decide to invest, darlin’,” Butcher says with a cheeky grin.
You giggle, letting him guide you through the clusters of elegantly dressed attendees toward where you assumed your table would be. You don’t remember ever finding out that piece of information, but you assume either Hughie or Annie told Butcher while you were still reeling about having to play ‘happy couple’ with him.
You listen carefully to snippets of conversations as you pass, waiting for anything interesting to catch your attention. Butcher stops at an empty table and pulls out a chair, you smile in thanks before taking a seat, quickly shuffling forward to avoid flashing everyone due to the ridiculously high split in your dress. Butcher notices though, chuckling to himself as he takes the chair beside you.
Before you can speak, he places a hand on your bare leg and squeezes, knocking every thought right out of your head.
You gasp, “I-It’s hot in here, is it hot in here?”
“I think that’s jus’ you, sweethear’,” he replies with a wink.
The room quickly fills with guests, conversations growing louder and drowning out the soft music playing over the speakers. Eventually, a woman takes the stage and the room falls quiet, listening to her lengthy introduction about how grateful Vought were for this night and how wonderful it is to be able to celebrate America’s finest superheroes. You can barely hear her though, your ears filled with the thrum of your pulse as Butcher’s fingers draw patterns on your leg. Your core aches, and you shift in your seat only to feel the dampness between your legs.
When the room erupts into applause, Butcher’s hand freezes, and you turn to see Homelander striding onto the stage, his hair blinding beneath the bright spotlight.
“Hey,” you whisper, placing a hand on top of Butcher’s, “you okay?”
He turns to you and his scowl relaxes, a soft smile pulling on his lips. “Yeah,” he replies, “I’m good.”
You slip your other hand beneath his, praying that he doesn’t notice how sweaty your palms are as you play with his fingers beneath the table. Although you had started in the hopes of calming him, you find your own sense of relaxation in his touch, focusing on the feeling of his skin as Homelander drawls on about Vought and The Seven.
After what feels like an eternity, he finishes his speech and the room cheers again. The woman returns to the microphone to announce the first course of food before music and conversation fills the air, and you turn your attention toward the centre of the table. Butcher grips your hand as you attempt to move it, entwining his fingers with yours and only allowing one of your hands free.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you two at one of these events before,” the woman beside you says.
She’s older but extremely elegant, with a pendant around her neck that you don’t doubt costs more money than you’ll ever get to see in your bank account.
“We’re new in town,” you reply, your voice very slightly lilted, “just moved from London’s east end, actually.”
“How charming,” she places a hand against her pendant, “I’m Lucille, and this is my husband, Jack.”
The podgy man beside her nods, his cheeks and nose bright red as he guzzles from his glass of champagne.
“Pleasure to meet you,” you say, “I’m Brooklyn, and this is my husband, William.”
You cast a glance at Butcher, only to find his eyes already locked on you, sparkling under the soft yellow lights. He has dopey smile on his lips and an emotion you can’t discern floating behind his gaze. Your stomach flips.
“You do make a charming, if you don’t mind my saying,” Lucille says.
You nod, your cheeks tingling with warmth, “Thank you.”
“So,” her husband, Jack, speaks up, his voice gruff, “what brings you here?”
You wait a beat for Butcher to reply, but he only watches you with that same expression.
“To be totally honest with you, I’m not sure,” you reply with a half-hearted laugh, “we have been thinking about investing, but I do wonder why a company of this immensity even needs investors.”
Jack chuckles, “You’ve got that right, seems greedy, doesn’t it?”
Lucille frowns at her husband before turning back to you, “We don’t do it for them, we do it for our grandkids, for their future. In the hopes that they will have a future, a safe one. This world is a nasty place.”
“You’re not wrong about that,” you sigh.
She nods, “That’s why it’s important to protect what you love, and hold on to it.”
Butcher’s hand squeezes yours, making your heart thump violently within your chest. You turn to him and meet his eyes, the fire in your veins blazing with a new intensity and heating every inch of your skin.
“I-If you’ll excuse me,” you stammer, pushing your chair back, “I need to use the bathroom.”
Butcher nods as you stand, and you can hear Lucille strike up new conversation while you weave between the tables toward the exit. Fresh air fills your lungs the moment you reach the foyer, and you pull your phone out of your bag, finding Hughie’s contact name with trembling fingers.
‘If I survive tonight, I WILL kill you.’
You hit send and turn toward the bathroom, almost stumbling when you see the same blonde security guard who had been stationed at the doors.
“Can I help you, ma’am?” he asks, his slimy smirk loading the question with innuendo.
“I’m okay,” you reply, “thank you.”
He steps forward before you can move, “You sure? You look a little flustered. Perhaps a step outside might help? It does get awfully hot in here.”
The first spark of fear rattles up your spine.
“I appreciate that, but I just need to use the restroom,” you say.
His smirk doesn’t falter, “Well, if you change your mind, let me know. I’d be more than happy to escort you. Can’t have a stunning woman such as yourself wandering the streets alone.”
You force a polite smile onto your face as you step around him and hurry down the corridor toward the bathrooms. With one subtle glance over your shoulder, you see him watching, still standing at the end of the hall looking almost predatory.
“Shit,” you whisper to yourself, turning sharply into the first stall.
You close the toilet lid and sit on top if it, holding your head in your hands and counting your breaths. After a minute of trying to wrangle your wild thoughts, you decide that Butcher is either a fantastic actor or… in love with you. Your heart aches to agree with the latter, but your brain fights for reason, reminding you that you’re in an incredibly sensitive situation and he is only acting like this to keep up the façade.
You sigh and stand up, panic piercing your chest when you remember the pushy security guard waiting for you in the foyer. You find your phone again, tapping on Butcher’s name and quickly typing out a message.
‘Don’t freak out, I’m totally fine, but I need you to come get me. Foyer.’
You count to thirty before exiting the stall and washing your hands, pleasantly surprised by your reflection in the mirror, aside from the deep red splashed across your cheeks. You walk calmly out of the bathroom and down the corridor, ignoring the spike in your pulse when you see the back of the security guard still standing there.
He turns around at the sound of your footsteps, a smirk curling his lips. “Hey gorgeous, are you-”
“There you are,” Butcher calls, striding toward you.
He wraps an arm around your waist, his hand splayed across your lower back as he presses your body against his. You don’t have time to respond before his lips capture yours. Your knees almost buckle, your hands gripping his shoulders for support as his mouth moves against yours and your mind goes completely blank.
He pulls back ever so slightly, his forehead still touching yours as he whispers, “I missed you.”
The feeling that bubbles in your chest makes your heart want to explode.
“Better get back in there,” he says, carefully releasing you.
You nod, unable to summon a single word as he looks at you like that, his pupils blown and his lips swollen from the kiss. He takes one of your hands in his and pulls you toward the doors before casting a menacing scowl over his shoulder at the security guard.
“Did he touch you?” he asks, his voice low.
You shake your head, “No.”
“Good.”
“Wait,” you tug on his hand before he can walk through the doors.
He frowns as you pull him to the side, into an alcove beneath the grand stairs that lead up to the private rooms above the event hall. He doesn’t resist when you press him against the wall, your hands on his chest and your body covering his. You look up at him through your thick lashes, and you can feel a soft groan rumble through his chest.
“I’m not sure we were convincing enough,” you whisper, before surging up and pressing your lips against his.
His hands hold the back of your head as he tilts his own to deepen the kiss, his tongue pushing past your lips and making you whimper. Your ears fill with the erratic thrum of your heart and the soft moans from the man in front of you, making you forget about everything that isn’t him. The fire rushing through your veins collects at your core, burning with need and making you clench as his hands wander down your back to cup your ass.
Time loses all meaning as you tangle your limbs with his, your body throbbing almost painfully. You have to stop yourself from clawing at his clothes, every desire within you craving to tear his suit apart and absolutely devour him.
Eventually, your lungs begin to burn, and the short gasps between kisses aren’t enough to appease them, so you pull away. His pupils are huge, consuming almost all of the colour in his eyes as he studies your face with a small smile.
“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he murmurs.
You open your mouth to tell him the same when someone clears their throat, and you both snap toward the sound. Hughie is standing a few feet away, his ID badge now on a lanyard around his neck and a notebook in his hand. His face looks pained, struggling to contain what would be a hysterical laugh if you weren’t all supposed to be undercover.
You stumble back from Butcher with wide eyes, your mouth trying to form words but no sound comes out.
Butcher straightens his jacket and clears his throat, “Sorry, mate, as you were.”
Hughie takes a deep breath and turns toward the room, and you have to commend him for his self-control.
Butcher looks down at you, “D’you think that was convincing enough?”
You giggle, “Maybe a little too convincing.”
He smirks and swipes his thumb across your bottom lip, wiping at the smeared lipstick. You know you must look like a wreck, your makeup smudged and your face blotchy and red, but you don’t care.
“Better get back in there before you get me arrested for public indecency,” he says, taking your hand in his.
You laugh again as he leads you back into the room, guiding you through the throngs of people and toward your table. Lucille greets you with a smile, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she surveys your flustered state. Butcher sits and shuffles his chair closer to yours before placing a hand on your thigh, much higher than where it was before.
“It’s a wonderful thing, isn’t it?” Lucille whispers to you.
You frown, “What is?”
“That love and passion,” she replies with a grin. “He just adores you, I can tell. Don’t ever let go of what you two have, it’s rare.”
You try to hide your smile, but it’s almost impossible. “I won’t.”
You’re not sure what you’ve missed but you assume it was Annie’s speech as the chatter around you is filled mostly with her name. The woman from before returns to the stage to rave some more, though you don’t bother trying to pay attention. Butcher is watching you with hungry eyes, filling your head with filthy thoughts and absolutely soaking your panties.
“So, Mrs. Williams,” he says, his voice low, “got any plans after this?”
“Not really,” you reply, “but I do think there’s a toy in the top drawer of my dresser calling my name.”
He swallows thickly, “Is that so?”
You nod, “I’m feeling a little wound up.”
“Perhaps I could help you unwind,” he whispers, “think I’d do a better job than that fuckin’ toy.”
“That’s a bold statement, are you sure?”
His fingers dig into your thighs with enough pressure to bruise, making your whole body jolt.
“Oh, I’m fuckin’ sure.”
His hand slides up your thigh and you part your legs instinctively.
He smirks, “Good girl, so responsive.”
The burning in your core pulses, sending white hot waves of desire up your spine to cloud your mind. His fingers brush the crotch of your panties, barely a touch but enough to make you sigh softly.
“You’re soaked,” he whispers, “so ready for my c-”
Cheers erupt throughout the room, drowning out his voice and startling you out of your stupor. His hand slides back down your leg and his smirk breaks into a devilish grin when you look at him with a scowl.
“Sorry, love,” he says as he retrieves his phone from his jacket pocket.
You take a moment to collect your thoughts, drawing steady breaths and trying to focus on anything but the man beside you. He chuckles at his phone before tucking it back into his pocket.
“Was that your mistress?” you tease.
He raises his brows, “Is that jealousy I’m hearin’?”
You slide your hand up his thigh, stopping just below his crotch to squeeze.
“You tell me, do I have anything to be jealous of?”
His voice is almost a groan, “Never.”
“Good.”
You slide your hand over his crotch, relishing in the way his whole body tenses before you pull back and fold your hands in your own lap. He sighs and takes a generous gulp from his glass of champagne, grimacing at the taste before leaning toward you with an arm over the back of your chair.
“You’re a fuckin’ tease, you know that?”
You turn to him, your face barely an inch from his, “Oh, baby, you haven’t seen anything yet.”
He leans back in his chair, his jaw tense but his eyes sparkling with mischief.
“You fond of that dress?” he asks casually.
“This old thing? Nah.”
He nods once, “Good, because I’m goin’ to fuckin’ destroy it.”
The woman sitting on his other side chokes on her mouthful of champagne, casting an abhorrent glare toward the two of you before completely turning her back. You have to swallow your laughter, averting your gaze to your lap as Butcher chuckles quietly.
You feel your purse vibrate at the same time that Butcher reaches for his pocket. You pull your phone out and check the messages, finding several from Hughie.
‘We’re here to WORK, not fornicate.’
‘I just spent five minutes laughing to myself in the toilet.’
‘The shows closing soon, we should leave before the crowds. Unless you and Butcher are busy ;)’
“D’you think you can make it out of here without your knees bucklin’, love?” Butcher asks with a smirk.
You tuck your phone away and twist in your chair so that your legs are toward him, parting them slowly. The red silk slides against your skin and the split opens with your legs. Butcher’s gaze drops, his whole face turning red as his eyes grow wide.
“I bet you a hundred dollars that you’re rock hard right now,” you whisper, leaning forward.
His jaw twitches as his gaze moves to your chest, and you smirk before twisting toward Lucille.
“We’re going to duck out before the masses, but it was lovely meeting you,” you say, “and best wishes to your grandkids. They’re lucky to have such incredible grandparents.”
She smiles at you, her eyes watery, “It was lovely meeting you too, dear.”
Her husband grumbles a farewell and you smile politely at the rest of the table who you hadn’t bothered to meet before turning back to Butcher expectantly. You have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from giggling at the way he shifts in his seat.
“Pleasure meeting you,” he nods toward Lucille and Jack.
He pushes his chair back and stands up, drawing a hand out of his pocket and dropping two fifty dollar bills onto the table before stepping back. A grin breaks across your face as you snatch the money and stand up, taking Butcher’s outstretched hand and letting him lead you out of the room. You almost stumble at the pace at which he drags you through the crowds, not stopping until you’re through the foyer, out the doors, and a good distance from the building’s entrance.
“You owe me,” he growls, yanking on your wrist so that you fall into his arms.
“Take whatever you want,” you whisper, “I’m all yours.”
Another rumble vibrates through his chest, and the knot of anticipation in your stomach twists tighter.
“Good, you’re here,” Hughie calls, his feet slapping against the pavement as he jogs toward you.
Butcher’s hold goes slack, and you take a reluctant step away from him as MM and Kimiko follow a few paces behind Hughie. The cold air nips at your bare skin, making you shiver.
“Where’s Frenchie?” MM asks.
“On his way,” Hughie replies with his phone in his hand, “and the car is close.”
You startle at the feeling of material falling around your shoulders, and glance up as Butcher steps in front of you, his arms guiding his blazer over your trembling body. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, looking up at him through your thick lashes as his lips curl into a soft smile. He moves back to stand at your side and wraps one arm around you, pulling you against side.
Hughie’s grin is so wide you want to slap it off his face.
“Not a word,” Butcher mutters.
Hughie chuckles, “I didn’t say anything.”
MM is clearly amused, and even Kimiko is giggling when Frenchie comes jogging up behind them.
“Did I miss something?” he asks, his brows raised as he looks from Butcher to you.
“Car’s here,” Hughie announces, and you all step toward the curb.
Hughie climbs in the front seat and greets the driver before texting rapidly on his phone, no doubt messaging Annie to let her know you were all safe and heading home. Kimiko and Frenchie shuffle toward the back of the van, and MM grumbles when neither you nor Butcher volunteer to join them. He squeezes between the two of them on the backseat before Butcher helps you into the van, and you take the single seat behind the passenger as Butcher falls into the last seat behind the driver.
You shrink into his jacket, enveloping yourself in his scent and relishing the warmth that his body had left behind. His eyes don’t leave you for the duration of the trip, studying your face, lingering on your lips, and moving up and down your body over and over again.
The drive feels much longer than it should, but the car finally pulls up outside your apartment block and you all pile out. Frenchie begins rambling about pieces of information he overheard, and MM fills in some of the gaps with snippets that he picked up in the press crowd. You almost feel guilty that you did nothing but dry hump Butcher and chat with an elderly rich woman, but that guilt washes away the moment you step inside the apartment.
“Bed, now,” Butcher tells you, tugging you by your hand toward the master bedroom.
“Y/N,” Hughie calls before you can disappear, “I thought your bedroom was that way.”
You turn to him with a frown, finding that stupid boyish grin stretched across his lips as the rest of the room watches you with amused faces.
“I’m not going to sleep, Hughie,” you say, before turning to Butcher, “I’m not tired.”
You catch a glimpse of his disgusted expression before you turn and rush into Butcher’s bedroom, followed closely by the man himself. His hand catches the collar the jacket and pulls it off of you as you step toward the bed.
“Not tired?” he asks, starting on the top button of his shirt.
You sit on the edge of the bed and kick your heels off. “Not at all.”
“Good.”
In two strides, he’s right in front of you, using his knee to nudge your legs apart so he can stand between them. His eyes trace up your bare leg, stopping where the red material reveals an inch of your black panties, and he sighs.
“So,” you say, leaning back with your hands on the bed, “what do I owe you?”
His self-control snaps and his hands yank at the opening of his shirt, ripping the rest of the buttons apart before he shrugs it off his shoulders. He straddles your hips and pushes you back, his lips assaulting your neck as you writhe beneath him.
“You said, I could take whatever fuckin’ I want,” he mutters against your skin.
You only moan in response and he sinks his teeth into your neck, hard enough to leave a bruise before soothing it with his tongue.
“I’m gon’a take all of you,” he growls, “but first-”
He sits back suddenly, his fingers making quick work of his belt and the fastenings of his trousers.
“I made a promise to this dress,” he finishes, before gripping the material on either side of the slit and ripping it.
You gasp as the silk falls loose around your body, tearing right up to the neck and cleaving the dress apart entirely. His eyes rake over your bare skin as he licks his lips and drops onto his hands to hover over you, grinding his hips down and eliciting another moan from your mouth.
“Fuckin’ hell,” he sighs, “you’re gon’a kill me with those pretty noises, sweethear’.”
“Butcher,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I need you.”
His elbows buckle and his body falls on top of yours as his lips capture yours in a searing kiss.
“You have me,” he murmurs against your mouth, “you’ve got all of me.”
END.
#billy butcher#the boys#billy butcher x reader#butcher x reader#karl urban#one shot#oneshot#homelander#hughie campbell#starlight#mm#mothers milk#frenchie#kimiko#the female#fanfic#fanfiction
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hi:) can you please do soldier boy x reader where reader is from Butcher's team and very shy and kinda afraid of soldier boy and one night when everyone is sleeping she is awake (in her fluffy pyjamas which soldier boy finds cute) and eating she realizes soldier boys shield is there and starts examining/touching it AND of course suddenly soldier boy is right behind her so she gets scared but he makes jokes etc so they start talking
Well aren't you cute
Pairing: Y/n fem! x Soldier boy
Warnings: none.
A/n: feel free to send me more asks! I hope I did well!
Y/n had been with Butcher for a few months, working along his side with a few others like Hughie. Butcher complained and cussed as he wondered how they'd possibly take down Homlander little did he know what was coming.
••••
Next thing Y/n knew she was sitting in a motel quietly watching the news when Butcher and Hughie walked in with no other than Soldier Boy... “Well well, what do we have here... A cute lady it seems” the man states with a teasing smirk, her ears red and she turns off the TV disappearing off to the bathroom to hide out.
The woman was never good at being around new people, it made her nervous and shy so sometimes she needed a moment to herself to ease the nerves. When she came out she was dressed in her favorite pink fluffy pajamas that kept her nice in warm in shitty motels such as this one.
Butcher and Hughie were nowhere in sight, they had sent her a text that they had separate motel rooms but that she was in charge of Soldier Boy. She didn't see the man around so she assumed he was tucked away in bed, so digging through her backpack she pulled some snacks out and watched TV. The sound of her bag rustling, chatter coming from the screen of people trying to guess the answers on a game show that was rigged when she heard footsteps behind her causing the woman to freeze.
“Seems like you know how to dress for a party” He snickered, looking her up and down in all honesty he found the pajama set fitting and overall cute since that was exactly what she was.
She blushed and pulled her hands out of the chip bag ripping her hands on some napkins, she didn't say a single word to him but she couldn't help but notice the shield proped up against the bed. “Woah...” the details on the shield were beautiful, she's never been this close to something like this before and honestly? It was pretty cool, it was quite heavier then she thought it would be.
“How did you carry this all the time?” she softly asks her eyes sparkling curiosity.
“Theres handle on the back of it sweetcheeks.” Ben lifts it up like it weighs nothing, which it most likely wasn't heavy at all for him.
As they night went on, the tv was still playing in the background as they both cuddled in the bed while she tried her hardest to explain technology to him, it was not going very well.
“This shit is stupid. Why make everything harder then it needs to be?” Ben huffed out trying to figure out how to work an iPhone.
“You can ask all the rich people that” she whispered with a slight shrug.
•••••
“Good night sweetcheeks.”
#soldier boy x reader#the boys#soldier boy x female reader#soldier boy x y/n#soldier boy x you#soldier boy imagine#soldier boy#butcher x reader#hughie x reader#billy butcher#hughie campbell#jensen ackles#the boys amazon
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Hey you're probably sick of the boys requests so take as long as you need with this
I was wondering if I could request how the boys would react to be called their real name in an angry voice by their gf instead of their nickname
Like for Frenchie it would be Serge
For Noir it would be Earving
For Billy it would be William
For Soldier Boy it would be Ben/Benjamin
For Hughie it would be Hugh
You get the jist, I hope you like this request 😊💕
i love this request nonnie!
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ FRENCHIE
he's not expecting it at all. he's always just been frenchie. with you, with the boys, just frenchie. but then, you find out that he's worked out a deal with little nina, and you know her reputation. everyone knows her reputation. and it's a matter of life and death. not to mention she used to fuck your boyfriend. he practically drops to his knees before you the moment you yell 'serge!' and he's both begging for forgiveness while also trying to explain.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ NOIR
it's been a long time since anyone has called him earving. he's always been 'black noir' or 'noir'. he doesn't even register that you're angry with him when you shout 'earving!'. he's simply reminded that he's still human under the mask, and he lets you yell. but when you're done, he simply wraps his arms around you, and where you see an apology hug, he sees a thank you hug.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ BILLY
he thinks it's hot. you don't intimidate him by any means, but he can't deny loving that angry flair in your eyes. he hears you go 'william butcher!' and he knows there's gonna be angry sex tonight. he'll let you yell at him, be angry, get it out of your system, but then he makes that one sarcastic comment that just grins your gears, and you get started all over again.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ SOLDIER BOY
like noir, he hasn't been called 'ben/benjamin' in years. not by someone who cared. and when you shout 'benjamin!' after a stunt he pulled, whether it be flirting with a backup dancer or getting a bit too insulting with a coworker of yours, he does pull back. he realizes that he doesn't want to actually upset you, and he does promise to do better.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ HUGHIE
he's caught off guard, definitely. to him, his father is hugh, not him. he's always been hughie, and robin never called him hugh. so when you find out that he's taken temp v, despite butcher telling him not to, you're furious. that stuff could kill him! so when you storm up to him, poking his chest while saying 'hugh campbell jr.!', he doesn't know what to think.
#atomwritez#billy butcher x reader#soldier boy x reader#black noir x reader#frenchie x reader#hughie campbell x reader
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐀 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐲 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞
↳ includes: billy butcher, hughie campbell, frenchie, mothers milk, kimiko, and soldier boy
↳ warnings: canon type violence and happenstances. hinted to take place during season three at some points.
↳ notes: sorry butcher is in here so much. he's the kind of guy that can't shut the fuck up, so i feel like he's always getting in everyone business no matter what
↳ song: rock me like a hurricane—scorpions
masterlist | commissions | carrd
𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐮𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫
• He has mixed feelings about you
• On one hand, you’re a great team player. Always making sure the job gets done, willing to put yourself on the line for the team, one of the most willing to kill a supe in a snap—second only to him—and always managing to make shit up on the fly whenever something inevitably goes wrong on a mission. Butcher has seen you fend off an entire team of armed Vought men before with nothing but a well timed lie and piece of pipe. That’s not something to scoff at, even if he does anyways
• But on the other hand, he has a feeling that you were just as much as an annoying shit as he acted sometimes
• “Sorry to say this guys—“ You said one night through the food in your mouth as Chinese takeout sat on a dirty table in front of you, curtesy of M.M and his pocketbook, “—but I think I’d betray you all for a fortune cookie. I’d betray my country for a fortune cookie.”
• "You say that like we ain’t already betrayin’ the cunts, sunshine.” Butcher eyed you from across the room as you nicked Frenchies own cookie from him while he was staring off at Kimiko for the tenth time that night
• “Too right, Butch.” You grinned like a shark at your idiotic nickname for him, and he ignored you as you did so; like he always did
• He definitely appreciates your enthusiasm behind his plans. Unlike Hughie or M.M, who despite working in the business of taking down supes seem to be hesitant about doing too much shit, you don’t seem to have a very strong moral code. That’s not necessarily a good thing in anyone’s eyes except for Butcher’s, who knows that he can always count on you to have his back in whatever situation he manages to squeeze himself into
• “Thanks for comin’.” He grunted at you while vomiting into a toilet, green bile spewing from his mouth. Butcher’s eyes burned with the urge to let out a laser beam, and he did so for a moment, splitting the porcelain throne we was leaning over in two
• “Want me to hold your hair back for you, honey?” You didn’t even miss a beat to start making fun of his situation, which made Butcher growl at you even from his current position. Despite your sarcastic demeanor in the moment, and the way he had just scorched an unexpected hole through the shitty bathroom, Butcher knew you’d help, no questions asked. And that’s exactly what you did, grabbing whatever he asked you to as he gave you a run down on the latest solo mission he had been attempting to get by with on his own
• “Jesus, poor Gunpowder huh?” You mused as you crossed your arms and leaned on the sink above him. For a moment Butcher thought you were granting the dead supe a bit of sympathy before he saw the glint in your eyes. “If the last thing I saw before I kicked it was your mug, I’d probably wanna get it over with yeah?”
• “Do me a favor. Go grab the toaster in the other room an’ take a nice bath with it, would ya?”
• “You first, Butcher.”
𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐢𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥
• The two of you are like peas in a pod. Two very weird, very cautious peas in a pod
• Even if Butcher is beside himself with annoyance at having another, as he put it, “soft cunt with a morality complex,” join the team, Hughie couldn’t be happier that someone seems to share his values on supes, on Vought; on the world, really
• In the first season or so, the two of you would probably spend a lot of time in between working with everyone else in the field to come up with a way to take Vought down the right way. Eventually,as we all know, that later falls apart, but it exhilarates Hughie to know that there’s people out there like him that want to try and put in the effort for things like that
• “Yeah, so if we can get one more witness about the Termite incident to come forward and testify—“ You bit your pen between your teeth and nodded as Hughie waved his hands over a stack of papers and talked at a million miles an hour, somehow understanding each and every word.
• “—then we could finally take a supe down legally. And that would make way for a whole round of others; Hughie you’re a genius.” You finished his sentence for him, slapping a hand down on the table with a grin as Hughie smiled. Somewhere in the distance someone snorted wryly, no doubt having heard the entire conversation. You had no doubt it was Butcher, but that didn’t matter to the either of you with how happy you were at the revelation. No matter how temporary it would turn out to be
• Hughie finds himself trusting you quite a bit. He can get attached pretty easily, so he finds himself willing to do anything to back you up—within reason of course. He still has some semblance of sanity left
• Listens to Billy Joel with you! Doesn’t matter if you all are coming back from a mission covered in blood—once it was whale guts—he will stick one earbud in and leave the other out for you as he presses play on a mix. More than once the others have found both of you passed out and snoring as the faint sound of Billy Joel plays through the headphones
• “Think we should wake them up, mon amie?” Frenchie tilts his head as he looks down on the both of you. Hughie chest rises and falls with a softness he couldn’t afford on the regular. You were positioned far away from him to have your back to him, somehow keeping your end of the earbud in as you drooled
• “Nah, let em sleep. God knows they need it.” M.M shook his head with crossed arms, the sight reminding him of better times
• “Oi! Stop ogling at the knackered sods and come help me with this, would ya?”
• “Fuck you, Butcher.” M.M said with a sigh, leaving the room to go and help anyway
𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞
• He fucks with you so hard
• I mean, come on, someone that’s as excited about making bombs as he is? Someone that is willing to understand French? To shit talk everyone else to their face—especially Butcher?? He might have to marry you on the spot
• Please learn French. He will literally beg you to start. Conjugates, vocabulary, even a simple ‘please’ and ‘thank you’. Anything at all. Will absolutely not judge you for your horrific accent or pronunciation if you have any
• Bomb lessons on the side, too. If you already know the basics, or are a pro, it’ll be a lot more breezy, but he’s willing to start from scratch. It’ll be nice to have a partner to help him with his creations on the team for once, and even better since he likes you
• The two of you, and Kimiko obviously, are practically joined at the hip. What I said about the shit talking earlier was real, too. All of you use different languages or sign to voice whatever you’re thinking. It’s nice to be able to speak your mind freely, and there’s the added bonus of not having M.M give you that sharp look of his, or Butcher calling you names. Anymore than usual, that is
• “What do you reckon the three of ‘em are always on about?” Butcher took a swig from his drink. He was sitting next to Hughie with a beer on one of their down days as the younger man typed away on a computer. He was watching you Frenchie and Kimiko from across the room as you all signed at each other with giant smiles on your face. Frenchie would speak occasionally, but all that came out was his mother tongue, and your face would pause for a moment as you let your brain process what he was saying. Then all of you would break out into another round of grins, something that Butcher had to deadpan at
• “Probably planning a coup.” Hughie answered Butcher without even looking up from his screen. He knew who he was talking about anyways. It wasn’t hard to guess thanks, to the occasional loud exclamation from Frenchie as you signed something particularly risqué or funny
• Butcher flitted his eyes away in annoyance from you all after he recognized the word ‘cunt’ in the passing conversation, along with a sign that was clearly supposed to represent him
• “I think at this poin’ I’d prefer tha’.” He grumbled into his cup, and all of you laughed
• “Cheer up, Butcher. At least Frenchie isn’t teaching them how to make homemade cherry bombs again.”
• “Shut up.”
𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐤
• Finally. Someone other than him can be the voice of reason in the group
• It’s tiring being the one to hold everyone together all of the time. It might help if Butcher wasn’t so much of an ass, or if Hughie didn’t feel the need to derail every plan with thoughts of his own, but M.M knew that wouldn’t be happening anytime soon. So he’d take any help he could get with reigning everyone in
• Definitely bonds with you over your shared habit of wearing band t-shirts to meetups or hideouts. I’d like to imagine that at one point the both of you show up wearing the exact same one, and it goes exactly how one would expect
• “Same shirt.” M.M notices one morning, pointing at your torso with the initials N.W.A written over it. He’s smiling, and so are you as what he’s wearing in turn dawns on you
• “Same shirt!! Hell yeah.”
• Fist bumps. Fist bumps galore, man. The two of you fist bump a lot. To punctuate sentences, drive a point home, agree on stuff—anything. It’s your own way of communicating with each other without having to bat an eye
• It’ll take M.M a while, but eventually he’ll start to really open up about missing his family to you. Beyond just showing you pictures of his daughter at soccer practice, I mean. If he trusts you enough to have his back in a shoot out, then he trusts you with this
• At one point, it goes farther than his (regrettably ex) wife and daughter, and eventually branches out into what he’s willing to tell about his dad and brothers. You feel like you know all of them by the time he’s done, and that only makes the typewriter story hit harder when he finally decides to reveal it
• Let’s just say you were pretty willing to jump Soldier Boy on M.M’s half the first time you were left in a room with them
• “Just one swing I swear—“
• “He will literally beat you into a pulp.” M.M deadpanned, doing his best to avoid looking at the other imposing figure in the room as he clasped two hands on either of your shoulders
• “Listen to your friend, sweetheart. Would hate to have to scrub my hands clean of any of your blood. Getting under the fingernails is always hard.”
• “See what I mean, just one punch that’s all—“
• “No.”
𝐊𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐨
• It’s honestly great for her to be able to hang around someone that feels the same way that she does. Maybe it’s how silent you are that really draws her attention at first, but Kimiko really grows to appreciate you as a member of the team
• Probably gets a lot of joy from having a friend like you. She constantly asks to do things like have you watch movies with her or to do ‘sleepovers,’ which are really just the two of you crashing on the main room couch together
• She never got a chance at a normal childhood or friends, so you and Frenchie are the closest she gets to a peace of mind
• Not even a question about it, she’s making you learn her sign language
• Will stare at you for days on end, saying nothing but everything at the same time until you agree to learn. Once you do, it’s all over. She gets the biggest most happiest look anyone ever seen, and there’s no turning back from that
• “Kimiko, what are you doing. It’s two in the morning.” You groan at her from under the thin covers of your bed, doing your best to ignore her hands as they fly about. It’s the childish equivalent of ‘if I can’t see you, you can’t see me’
• ‘No time to sleep. We have to go over stuff before the mission tomorrow. It will help us communicate.’ She was unnerved by your lack of enthusiasm. If anything it only spurred her on more, shaking your bed and pulling at your covers as you groaned. Even with the progress you had been making with signing over the past few weeks, your knowledge was still a bit shaky, and being half asleep didn’t help, so you only caught a few words. Enough to know what she wanted, however
• “Go away, Kimiko.” You whined. The shaking stopped, and for a moment you thought your request had worked. You were more than happy to fall back into whatever dream you had been having beforehand
• Then you heard the rushing of feet and a large weight slammed onto your legs
• “Goddamnit!—“
• Frenchie found the both of you the next morning; Kimiko looking bright eyed and bushy-tailed while you were practically falling asleep from where you sat. It was a teasing point for you over the next two weeks
• Between you, there’s moments like that where, despite Kimiko’s silence and your habit to keep your thoughts to yourself, nothing ever goes unseen or unsaid. The two of you know each other like the back of your hands, and sometimes you wonder if you’d even need her sign to communicate
𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬: 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲
• If the saying ‘this town is only big enough for the both of us’ could apply here, it absolutely would
• It’s almost ironic how bad Soldier Boy handles another version of himself. You’ve got just as much snark and anger as him, and it pisses him the hell off. Constantly.
• Maybe it’s because you didn’t fan boy over him as soon as he flashed a few cheesy lines that keeps his disdain for you boiling, or that you didn’t keep your distance when he threatened to eradicate your entire bloodline if you didn’t stop running your mouth at him
• “Need help with that?” He cocks a brow at you one day, watching with poorly hidden annoyance as you struggle to tie a knot in your shoes for the fifth time in a minute. The offer isn’t serious, and even if it was, he has no doubt you wouldn’t hesitate to kick him in the face if he bent down to tie your shoe for you
• “Need help taking my dick down your throat?” You parroted back at him while raising your voice in a false-happy tone. Finally you get the shoestrings to cooperate, completely missing the way Soldier Boy glows in a harsh warning at your attitude
• “Ladies, ladies, you’re both pretty.” Butcher calls from the room over, no doubt tired of the bickering between the two of you that had been nonstop for the past few days. “Let’s get a move on before one of you decides to claw the others bloody eyes out, yeah?”
• The fact that you’re not even a supe just ticks him off more. Only a few people have ever pushed his buttons like this, most of them being supes, and they always ended up being nothing but red paste in the next few minutes
• You make sure to point it out to him several times that you’re just acting like he always does, making sure to don a shit eating grin when he clenches his fist at your comment
• Please for the love of everything that’s holy tone it the fuck down. Some people may say that Soldier Boy has no self-control, but it sure is taking a whole lot of it not to kick you in the crotch as hard as possible
• “The feelings mutual.” You deadpan at him when he eventually shares that fantasy out loud. He knew full well that if you even so much as tried that, you’d end up with a broken ankle and your front pinned to the closest brick wall, but he had no doubts that you would go for it anyway
• Seriously. How has he not murdered you in your sleep yet
#the boys#the boys x reader#the boys x you#the boys x y/n#billy butcher#billy butcher x reader#billy butcher x you#hughie campbell#hughie campbell x reader#hughie campbell x you#frenchie#frenchie x reader#frenchie x you#mothers milk#mothers milk x reader#mothers milk x you#kimiko#kimiko x reader#kimiko x you#soldier boy#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy x you#x reader#headcanons
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Can we have a part 2 Deadpool reader with the boys and maybe soldier boy too❓❓ if you want to of course
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The Boys x Deadpool!Reader
t/w: loooots of dark humour/jokes, reader's origin will be explained underneath, reader is still an asshole lol that comes with the character, mention about killing,death,gore, weed, drugs, Reader is gn!!!
ᯓ★ here's a version with the seven, kiss kiss <3
Origin:
Quick summary, when you were born, your parents had agreed with Vought to have you be pumped full of Compound V so you could grow up and be a hero working under them, but the problem was when you were around 7, they changed their mind so Vought ended up sending several people to come to your house to settle the matter.
Your whole family was massacred in the living room during thanksgiving and when they tried to capture you. You were able to run away. Homeless and living on the street, you grew up in a life of crime, depending on nobody but yourself. Make sense? No? Good! Let's start now.
BUTCHER
To him, you were like a fly that won't leave him alone.
How he knew you was through Mallory, she thought you were okay and fit for the job since you hated Vought just as much.
Obviously he didn't like you once you were introduced to him and the two (M.M and Frenchie)
"No way am I lettin' a supe join us"
":("
Though after what happened to Mallory's grandchildren, the gang pretty much dispersed but wherever Butcher went, you followed. Since he was the only person you trusted... and also enjoy annoying the shit out of.
He'd head inside a club, relieved he hadn't seen you for the past few days so he decided to grab a drink by the bar to unwind.
"Whiskey" He said with his eyes looking around, paranoia shown on his face.
Once his drink was served, he would look back to find your eyes smiling at him, you were wearing a bartender disguise over your red suit.
"Did you miss me?"
"Oh christ..."
When you heard word that he was gathering back the team, you had to be there. What kind of friend would you be if you didn't?
Undoubtedly he had to admit, there were times where he was grateful to have you on the team but there were also other times he regretted it.
For example, that time when you guys needed to sneak into a lab to get something and the goal was to stay quiet but even that simple rule was hard for you to follow.
"Room's up ahead. (Y/N) I need you to—"
"Heads up!" You said as you threw a bomb at the metal door.
The explosion causing the alarm to turn on and it had the whole lab now on high alert. You shrug innocently when Butcher glared at you like he wanted to tear you apart.
Also, you enjoy constantly pissing him off. You can't die so you don't really care if he'll kill you for it.
"Maybe, if you didn' press the fuckin' button, we wouldn't have to come bac' to save yer ass from the guards"
"OOH GOD SAVE THE QUEEEN!! Please, cry me a fucking river. I got us the target didn't I?"
"He's dead"
"Well you weren't being specific when you said to capture him"
But it's fine, all his frustration will be solved once he uses you as bait. He knows you can't die but hey, it makes him feel slightly better watching you get shot at.
Despite your ups and downs, he appreciates you. When the team would turn against him on his insane journey for revenge, he always found you the only one still standing by his side. You're loyal and he likes that.
Compatibility? 75%
HUGHIE
You treat him like a child.
No seriously you baby talk him sometimes and it annoys him
"Awwwww is little hughie angry?"
"Stop..."
"Does baby want his milky?"
Since he's pretty much the only person who isn't that exposed to crime as the others, he's terrified 100% everytime when he's paired up to do any dirty work with you.
"Now listen buddy, you better start talking or I'm gonna shoot" You said, gun raised at the man who seemed to be begging you to spare his life in a language you didn't speak.
"I don't think he speaks English"
"Ah shit... ENGLISH!! SPEAK!! ABCDEFG??!"
"How is shouting in English gonna make him understand?"
"Eh, you're right"
BANG
"WHY'D YOU SHOOT HIM??!"
"Well did you expect me to pull out Duolingo and start taking classes?!"
You had to admit, it was a pain in the ass each time he starts giving you the cold shoulder whenever he gets mad at you for doing something terrible. It was like his way of guilt tripping you so you always try to apologise in your own ways.
"Hey..." You said, handing him ice cream.
"...I uh... I don’t like Strawberry ice cream... I thought I told you that"
"God you're so ungrateful!!"
Since he was such a scaredy cat, you try to tone down your craziness a bit. For the sake of him not going into cardiac arrest.
"(Y/N) STOP!! She has nothing to do with this!! She was tricked" Hughie grabbed you by the arm to pull your gun away from the innocent woman.
You turn your head to look at him, then at the woman, then at him again, then the woman, then him again.
"Ugh finnnne... you're boring..."
However, he does appreciate you trying to be a better person. Even you had to admit, after you met him and became friends. You noticed yourself being less brutal than you used to be. The thought keeps you awake at night and it scares the shit out of you.
But oh well, how could you ever say no to those scared little puppy eyes?
Compatibility? 55%
FRENCHIE
He's like your hype man which is concerning.
Not because you're not afraid to get the job done but also because you always have his back.
"Well... I need some gunpowder but I've run out of them" Frenchie said, telling Butcher that the plan was most likely not gonna happen.
"Hold on" You said with the typical comical ☝🏻 gesture before heading into a different room. Everyone exchanging confused glances at what you could possibly be doing.
After a few minutes you'd return with a bag of gunpowder while struggling to zip up your pants with the other hand.
"Don't tell me how I got it. It almost tore me apart" You said, rubbing your ass.
On stressful nights, you guys would enjoy smoking weed together by the sofa and share stories of your traumatic childhood. It's how you guys bond and it's oddly wholesome.
Also when he needs a shoulder to cry on, you were always there for him. You two shared a type of relationship that even Romeo and Juliet couldn't compete with. To be fair they're dead so they actually can't fight.
"Hey reader!! If you're gonna keep reading then you might as well give the post a like or a repost. C'mon, pleassssseeee pleasepleaseplease"
"Ma cerise, who are you talking to?"
Although he doesn't mind your behaviour sometimes but he won't tolerate it if you ever cross the line on something. He's like the owner who sprays water at his pet cat when they don't listen.
"What are you mad at me for?!?!"
"You damn near tried to get us killed!!"
"Hey! You're the one who said it would be a suicide mission so I made sure it was a suicide mission!!"
"WHAT?"
There's no way he can deny how curious he is about where you get your guns and things. He once went in your room to find boxes of dynamite and a RPG just placed against the wall like furniture.
Like do you have a supplier or are you your own supplier?
Compatibility? 99.9%
M.M
Everybody deserves second chances.
He always tells him that to calm himself down everytime you managed to fuck up a thoroughly planned mission.
"What did I say about pressing buttons (Y/N)?"
"Honestly I stopped paying attention after you said 'Listen here'."
M.M has to be the only person you fear to the fact you try very hard to avoid him, this is because his long ass lectures are such a pain to deal with.
"How many times do I have to remind you? You can't just go around doing shit like that. You gotta consider the amount of danger you'll put everyone in..."
"(Blah blah blah... he's still going... uggggh... make it stop...!)"
Unable to handle the lecture any longer, you ended up shooting yourself in the head.
"(Y/N)!" His tone more disappointed than concern since this wasn't the first time you did this to escape his talks.
You know that russian dollhouse he tries to build in season 2? Well you'd constantly be found standing or sitting near him when he's trying to finish the set.
Since you're aware of his OCD, you like to edge him on by sometimes rearranging the parts or stealing some of it so he ends up searching high and low for the missing parts.
You had to admit it was entertaining to watch him accuse other people for touching his stuff when it was you behind all the schemes.
I'd like to think that after every mission when you happen to die, he'd be the one in charge of collecting your remains so you'd grow back.
That's why it comes naturally that his job is to make sure you don't do anything extreme.
"Where are my bombs??!?!" You'd shout, storming around the place looking for them.
"I sold them. Thought it'd do us more good knowing you won’t accidentally blow us up"
"WHAT?! GOD! It's like the writers of the show couldn't afford another explosion for this season so they had to use this DUMB of an excuse!!"
Though he does see some good in you through the messed up parts, he once saw you give his daughter a cute teddy bear when they've been burned by Vought.
She still has the bear and M.M likes to think that maybe you have a soft spot for kids since you never had a proper childhood. That's why he chooses to understand you rather than just being ignorant about your behaviour.
Compatibility? 80%
KIMIKO
She finds you a little odd but she doesn't mind once she realises how everyone is used to you being like that.
Whenever you're bored, you'd come to see what she was up to. Just imagine you sitting on the sofa like a curious kid as you watch her write alphabets on the book.
She also tries to communicate with you since she thought maybe your fucked up mind would understand her better in a way. Like how in season 2 she was repeatedly writing 'boy' to Frenchie but he didn't understand, so she came to you.
"Woow... watching you try to talk to me is like watching a baby take it's first breath..."
"😐"
"It's beautiful..."
Turns out her theory was wrong, you had a harder time understanding her compared to the rest.
Since you're the only two people in the group with powers, most of the time you two are sent on dangerous missions together. It's a nightmare for her because everybody knows communication is key but one is mute and the other doesn't listen.
"(Be quiet! There's people in the other room!)" She'd sign to you but you were busy humming a song while throwing around the enemies equipment.
"Oooh, what's this?" You held up a Homelander figurine which made you laugh as you show it to her.
"Hey look! 'I'm Homelander, I'm God's favourite. I play golf with Jesus every Sunday."
"(Can you please take this seriously?)"
"You're right, you gotta stop messing around Kimiko! We have a target to kill here" You said and you threw the figurine away which apparently clashes into a stack of boxes that came crashing down. The sound making everyone inside the building grab their weapons and began cornering you two in the room.
"😡"
"Okay that wasn't me that was gravity"
For the boys, you were plan A and she was plan B. That's because you always end up rushing into a fight first which most of the time resulted in you getting dismembered, which she later comes in to save you.
For example when Stormfront had stopped you guys, your bright ass thought it was a good idea to charge at her even though everyone was signalling you to stop. Next thing you know you were just a head being carried by M.M, you ended up watching as Kimiko fought Stormfront with the help of Starlight and Queen Maeve.
"That's my girl!! Now can anyone lend me a hand? I think I lost mine"
Compatibility? 97%
Bonus +
SOLDIER BOY
You know the scene where he walks out of his containment with the gas surrounding him? You swore when you watched him step out butt naked, you could hear angels singing and trumpets playing inside your head.
Shockingly enough, he was the only person who appreciated your humour. Could be a generation thing. He's just relieved not everyone has gone soft over the years.
In a way, you feel like you've become his babysitter. Everytime Butcher and Hughie left to do some business, you were in charge of making sure he doesn't blow up anyone. You kept him entertained so he didn't mind. That's why on the hunt for his former team members, he immediately chose you to be by his side.
"I'll take red with me"
"Red as in the american flag or the russians?" You asked which had him do the typical boomer laugh.
"I like you, you're funny" He said with a strong pat on your shoulder.
Butcher doesn't mind you with him cause he trusts that you can keep him under control. Hughie on the other hand isn't sure if you can even keep yourself under control.
"Shhh... wait... do you hear that?"
"Ah shit, did I accidentally said my dirty thoughts out loud? It's just you look breedable in that suit"
Another thing he likes about you is that you're okay with killing pretty much anyone, just try not to overstep cause that could potentially piss him off.
"I told you he's mine" He said as he had you pinned against one of the trees, apparently you had shot Mindstorm in the head when he literally made it clear to you minutes ago that was his kill.
"Quite possessive aren't you? I can recommended a therapist I know. Her names Martha—"
"You shut your mouth before I shove my shield up your ass"
"Gasp don't you DARE threaten me with a good time!!"
At the end of Season 3, you would obviously side with Butcher when everyone started to turn against Soldier Boy. He had to admit he was kinda hurt though, he expected you to be on his side.
"So what? You're crawling back to him now? After what we've been through?"
"Sorry big daddy, but Butcher has been my day one and I also happen to love him veryvery much"
Cue Butcher rolling his eyes out of disgust.
Compatibility? 100% but after the betrayal? 0% 😔
#MOM CUT THE WIFI#THIS TOOK TOO LONG TO FINISH#x reader#the boys#the boys x you#the boys x reader#the boys x y/n#the boys billy butcher#the boys butcher#the boys hughie#the boys mothers milk#the boys mm#the boys frenchie#the boys kimiko#the boys soldier boy#butcher x reader#hughie x reader#frenchie x reader#mm x reader#mothers milk x reader#kimiko x reader#soldier boy x reader#billy butcher#hughie campbell#frenchie#mothers milk#kimiko the boys#kimiko#soldier boy#the boys amazon
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Payback
Soldier boy x F/ plus size reader
Warnings: 18+, cursing, smut, unprotected sex, age difference, body shaming, just a LOT of SMUT.
Side note: English isn’t my first language.
*Does not follow The Boys storyline *
--
Story:
A few years ago, Y/N an old friend high school friend of Hughie, was the most beautiful girl in school, or so did her boyfriend think. She was the only girl who wasn’t a cheerleader or popular IT girl that got the quarterbacks attention. Now years later, Y/N finds out her man has been cheating on her for some time.
--
“I can’t believe you two are still together.” Hughie said smiling, he looked at Annie “Y/N was the only girl in school this fella had eyes for, and it took him quite some time to convince her to go out on a date with him. You are a very lucky man, Jack.” Jack swirled his drink around “I used to maybe. But now a days... she just doesn’t seem to be taking care about herself anymore.”
Hughie, Annie and Soldier Boy had just stepped into their house. Hughie needed a place to stay for the night, just to lay low and the only person he knew in town was Y/N. Who was she to say no to her oldest best friend.
Soldier boy didn’t seem to want to join their reunion, so he asked for his room. Y/N had just shown him and was walking back, now here she stood, listening to what Jack was saying, hiding in the hallway.
His voice floated to her on a current of disbelief and hurt. "She put on so much weight, man. I don't know what to do. I'm just not as attracted to her anymore."
Y/N's heart broke.
She felt the weight of his criticisms pressing down on her, each syllable a cruel reminder of her insecurities. "Her thighs are massive, ass to thick, her breasts used to fit in the palm of my hand, perfect. Oh, and don’t get me started on her stretch marks," Jack's voice echoed.
"What we used to call not fuck-worthy," he scoffed. Leaving Hughie and Annie speechless. “I’m sure you are over reacting?” Annie tried to lighten the air. "Yeah." Hughie added. "She didn't gained that much."
Is that why he didn’t touch her anymore Y/N though, eyes filling with tears. “Than why are you still with her if looks are so important?” Hughie asked slightly irritated. “Guilt, we wanted a kid that didn’t work and now she gained weight, eating her feelings away."
"Fuck Hughie you should see her without clothes, man, I’ll turn off the light just to fuck her.”
“Oh, come on, Y/N is amazing, I don’t see a difference from my best friend in high school.” Hughie spoke soft. "You liked her curves back then" “Then you need glasses buddy. She was perfect then, but now? Na-ah.” Jack said standing up.
Y/N heard the chair moving, not wanting to get caught sneaking around, she took a step back and turned quickly. She stumbled, and bumped into Ben, whose silent figure stood behind her.
He looked down at her, she could swear she could see the pity in his eyes. “E-excuse me.” she whispered before wanting to pass him, to hide in the bedroom. But Jack just opened the door to the hall looking at Ben and Y/N standing close looking in each other's eyes.
“Sweety, it’s dinner time. Why don’t you get started, I’m sure our guests are hungry.” Jack’s voice changed to this normal caring guy. “I’ll be right there.” She said holding back tears, rushing to the kitchen.
Leaving Ben in the hall alone.
Y/N's heart felt heavy with the weight of her own vulnerability as she retreated to the kitchen. Her movements were slow, weighed down by the echoes of Jack's hurtful words and the ache of betrayal that lingered in the air.
Ben's gaze followed her every move, his eyes tracing the curve of her silhouette he couldn’t see what Jack’s problem was. Lost in her own thoughts, Y/N was unaware of the dark fantasies that danced behind Ben's eyes, the primal urges that stirred within him at the sight of her curves.
In that moment, she was nothing more than a muse, a tantalizing vision that fuelled his desires. When she walked out the kitchen to put the food on the table their eyes meet for a split second.
He found himself imagining what it would be like if she were his girl. She seemed like wifey material to him, something he wanted once long, long time ago. She cooks, the house is clean and is probably a firecracker in the bedroom.
His thoughts wandered into forbidden territory, his mind conjuring vivid images of running his hands over her soft skin, of tracing the contours of her body with eager fingers. He imagined the taste of her lips, kneading her skin, the sound of her voice as she whispered his name in the heat of passion.
As the dinner was served Jack decided to bring out the good stuff to drink. It wasn’t everyday two superheroes were joining you at dinner. As Jack's words slurred with each sip of alcohol, “So, soldier boy, I heard you were quite active in your days. How many women did you have?”
Ben looked up his eyes moving from Jack to Y/N and back. “I don’t keep count.” He said unimpressed. “I bet women were different then ay? You’ve seen them all, what was your favourite type? ”
Y/N felt a knot tighten in his stomach. The question was innocent enough on the surface, but the underlying implications sent a shiver down his spine. Leaving both Annie and Hughie speechless.
"Favourite type of woman, huh?" Ben's echoed his question. "I don't know, man. I guess I don't really have a type. I’ve fucked women in every decade."
But Jack was persisted, as Ben’s gaze flicking over to Y/N for a split second.
"Come on, everyone has a type. What gets you going?"
"If you put it that way, I don't mind a woman with a bit of...curves."
His words hung heavy in the air, the tension palpable as Ben's gaze lingered on Y/N, his intentions unmistakable.
Leaving Y/N blushing bright red. Jack’s discomfort grew as Ben pressed and gave even more details, while he took another bite.
"There's something...special about them, you know? The way you can feel the softness of their flesh beneath your fingertips, the way their skin yields to your touch. How you can knead their flesh while pounding into them."
He paused, his words hanging in the air as he locked eyes with Y/N, who by now was unable to look away, stunned yet ashamed. "And when you're with them," he continued, his voice growing deeper.
"There's this...intimacy that comes from seeing their bodies move, feeling the rhythm of their curves as you...as you thrust inside, and when you take them hard, there is no need to be afraid to break them."
Everyone at the table was quiet, unable to form words. “But that is just my preference.” Ben added before he placed his fork on his plate. “It is delicious.” He said to Y/N handing her his plate.
Y/N retrieved to the kitchen, cheeks blushing unable to sit across from him or besides Jack for that matter.
Her hands moving mechanically as she scrubbed at the dishes, her mind still reeling from the uncomfortable conversation at the table. She felt Ben's presence behind her, his footsteps echoing in the silence of the kitchen.
"You know, you really didn't need to do that," Y/N spoke softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she addressed Ben still looking down at the soapy water. "Do what?" Ben's voice was gentle, tinged with curiosity as he stepped closer, his gaze fixed on her body.
Y/N sighed, setting the dish she was washing aside before turning to face him. "Defend me like that," she said, her eyes meeting his with a mixture of gratitude and vulnerability. "You didn't have to speak up for me. I know there are a million different body types more attractive than this.”
Ben's eyes darkened as he met Y/N's gaze, a sincerity shining through the depths of his gaze. "I meant every word," he said, his voice steady and sure.
Y/N had no idea how to cope with his flirtations, trying to lose him by walking to the garage to empty the trashcan from the kitchen. Ben followed quietly, his eyes tracing the curve of her silhouette with a mixture of admiration and longing. His footsteps fell in sync with hers.
“Listen Soldier boy. I..” - “It’s Ben.” He interrupted her. “What?”
“My name is Ben, sweetheart.” - “Ok, Ben... I don’t get what you are trying to do here but... It’s not working.”
Ben’s hand moved over her mouth as he rested his index over his lips. The warmth of his hand spread a jolt of heat through her veins. For a split second she imagined how his hands would feel on her body.
“Listen.” Ben whispered.
Jack's voice, drifting through the stillness of the garage like a ghostly whisper. Y/N froze, her heart skipping a beat as the words registered in her mind.
"I miss you too, sweety" Jack's voice crackled over the phone, the desperation palpable even from a distance. "I need you, baby. I need to feel you, fuck I’m so horny. Can I see you tonight?"
Y/N's breath caught in her throat, a knot tightening in the pit of her stomach as the full weight of Jack's betrayal washed over her. She felt as though the ground had been pulled out from beneath her.
Beside her, Ben tensed, his jaw clenching with the effort to contain his anger. He had heard enough to know that Jack's infidelity ran deeper than mere words, deeper than a fleeting moment of weakness. But as he glanced at Y/N, her face pale and drawn with shock.
With a gentle touch, he reached out to place a hand on her shoulder, as they stood together in the quiet sanctuary of the garage. He could see the gears in her head spinning.
As the weight of Jack's betrayal hung heavy in the air, Ben felt a desperate need to break the tension, to lighten the suffocating atmosphere, "Well, if you're looking for payback," Ben quipped, his voice strained with forced cheerfulness, "you could always...Fuck me."
Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, her gaze flickering uncertainly between Ben and the ground beneath her feet. “What? No!” "I...I appreciate the offer, Ben, but...I don't think that's the answer." Her voice shook slightly.
“Your loss.” he walked back to the living room. Seeing how Jack quickly ran toward the kitchen. "I...I have to go," Jack muttered, his words tinged with a sense of urgency. "Work needs me. You understand, right?"
Y/N's gaze flickered to Ben. They both knew the truth, knew that Jack's sudden departure had nothing to do with work and everything to do with his mistress.
Y/N nodded numbly, her voice barely above a whisper as she replied, "Of course, Jack. I understand."
As the evening wore on and the house gradually quieted, Hughie and Annie bid their farewells, retreating to their room. Ben and Y/N found themselves sitting together in the dimly lit living room.
Ben shifted uncomfortably, his gaze flickering uncertainly as he struggled to find the right words to break the tension.
Y/N, too, felt the weight of the moment pressing down on her like a heavy burden.
As Y/N turned to leave the room, trying to get away of the hungry looks Ben gave her. As she bends down to grab a drink from the fridge she felt a sudden presence behind her, a warmth that sent a shiver down her spine.
Before she could react, Ben's gentle touch caressed her curves, his fingertips tracing the contours of her body. A soft gasp escaped Y/N's lips. She turned to face him, her heart pounding in her chest as she met his gaze, the intensity of his eyes sending a thrill coursing through her veins.
"How long has it been since Jack touched you?" Ben's voice was barely above a whisper, his words hanging in the air between them like a heavy weight.
Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her mind racing as she struggled to find the words to respond. She hadn't dared to admit it, not even to herself. "Too long," she murmured softly, her voice tinged with a mixture of longing and regret.
“Did he... satisfy you?” Ben asks, eyes still roaming her body. Y/N hesitated, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. "It's been a long time since I've felt...truly satisfied." Y/N could hear a soft growl in the back of Ben’s throat. “If you ever need...someone to make you feel truly satisfied, I'm here. Let me know."
Y/N's legs felt like jelly beneath her, her resolve weakening in the face of Ben's teasing words and the electric tension that crackled between them. She longed to give in, to surrender to the magnetic pull that drew her towards him like a moth to a flame.
Ben's playful smirk sent a thrill coursing through her veins. "Come on, Y/N," he teased, his voice low and husky close to her ear. "You know you want to give in to the temptation. Get fucked by a real man."
She thought of Jack for a second. What did she had to lose? With a hesitant smile, she leaned in closer, her lips hovering just inches from his. "Maybe I do," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
As Y/N's lips brushed against his in a fleeting kiss. Pulling back slightly, Ben's eyes met Y/N's with an intense heat, his voice a low, husky whisper that sent shivers down her spine. "You have no idea what I want to do to you. “
His gaze darkened with longing as he traced a feather-light trail down the curve of her neck, his lips hovering just inches from her skin. "I want to worship every inch of your body," he breathed, his voice thick with passion. "I want to make you feel things you've never felt before, pleasure beyond your wildest dreams."
Leaning in closer, Ben's touch grew more urgent, his hands moving with a newfound intensity as he traced the contours of her body with a fierce hunger. His fingers dug into her skin with a possessiveness that left her breathless, a silent promise of the passion to come.
"I would make you mine," he growled, his voice low and guttural with desire. "I would claim you, leaving my mark on your skin.
In a haze of desire and urgency, Ben's hands moved with a primal determination as he guided Y/N towards the bedroom, the heat of their passion fuelling their every movement. With each step, the tension between them crackled like lightning in the air.
As they reached the bedroom, Ben's fingers grew rougher, more insistent, as he tore at the fabric of her clothing from needing desire. The sound of ripping fabric echoed in the silence of the room, a symphony of urgency that drowned out all other thoughts.
His eyes traced the curves of her body with a tender appreciation, taking in every line and contour as if committing them to memory. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice filled with genuine admiration. She met Ben's gaze with a soft smile, her heart swelling with gratitude for his words of affirmation.
Ben pushed Y/N onto the bed with a force that left her gasping for breath, the mattress sinking beneath her weight as she landed with a soft thud. Y/N's heart raced with excitement as she felt the weight of Ben's body pressing down on her.
As Ben's hand moved between Y/N's thighs, a surge of anticipation coursed through her veins. He pressed his fingers against her skin, his touch both gentle and possessive as he explored the depths of her desire.
His fingers moved with a skilled precision, seeking out the most sensitive spots and igniting a firestorm of sensation within her. “Fucking hell doll, so wet, it really has been a while, hasn’t it?”
Y/N's breath hitched as she felt the warmth of his touch spreading through her like wildfire, every caress sending waves of pleasure coursing through her veins. She arched her back, a soft moan escaping her lips as Ben's fingers worked their magic.
And as Ben brought her to the brink of ecstasy, Y/N surrendered completely to the pleasure of the moment. "Please," she begged, her voice a desperate plea filled with longing and desire. "I need it, don’t stop..., Oh Ben.”
“Are you ready for me sweetheart? Are you going to take me like a good girl?”
She whined of need, nodding desperately wanting to feel him.
As Ben entered her, a sharp sting of pleasure and pain shot through Y/N's body, igniting a firestorm of sensation that left her gasping for breath. Her nails dug into his skin as she clung to him, her body arching towards his with a mixture of pleasure and anticipation.
The initial discomfort soon gave way to a wave of intense pleasure as Ben's movements grew more rhythmic. “Fuck you're so tight," he murmured, his voice thick with desire as he kneaded Y/N's curves. "It's like you were made for me."
His hands moved with a gentle yet possessive urgency, tracing the contours of her body with a fervour that left her trembling with pleasure.
Ben's movements became more forceful, his thrusts growing harder and more urgent as he sought to satisfy Y/N's primal desires. He grasped her tightly, his hands gripping her curves with a fierce intensity, as he pushed her towards the edge of ecstasy.
"Harder," Y/N gasped, her voice a desperate plea filled with longing and desire. "I need you to take me harder, Ben." As he complied with her pleads, he heard her hiss. “Are you ok, did I hurt you?” He slowed down. “Don’t stop... please, I love it.”
“Hmm, you like it really rough don’t you.” He bit her nipple earning another hiss that turned into a moan. “Good to know.”
Ben turned Y/N around, his movements fuelled by a raw desire that left them both gasping for breath. As she arched her back, offering herself to him completely, he couldn't resist the urge to give in to his most primal instincts.
With a swift motion, he brought his hand down on her behind with a sharp smack, the sound echoing through the room like a thunderclap. Y/N gasped in surprise, a rush of pleasure coursing through her veins at the unexpected sensation.
"Like that?" Ben growled; his voice thick with desire as he admired the red mark blossoming on her skin. "You want more?" He saw how she grabbed the sheets tight in her hands. Stretching her arms in front of her, her face against the bed.
His touch was both possessive and tender as he trailed his fingers over the sensitive flesh, his movements sending shivers of pleasure racing down her spine. Again, Ben's hand connected with Y/N's behind, the sharp smack echoing through the room as a surge of pleasure shot through her body.
"You like it, don't you... a little pain?” Without waiting for a response, he delivered another firm smack, each strike sending waves of pleasure crashing over Y/N like a tidal wave.
Ben could see the red spot on her behind forming. He leaned in, grabbing her breasts tight, pulling her back onto her hands, while his hips pounded hard against her. The sound of flesh hitting flesh mingled in the air with Y/N’s moans.
As the hours passed and their passion reached new heights, Ben and Y/N found themselves lost in a haze of desire, their bodies entwined in a symphony of ecstasy. Ben heard Jack getting inside the house.
Ben loved the idea of showing him how well Y/N could take him. "Do you...want more?" Y/N, lost in the throes of passion, was oblivious to the presence of her boyfriend in the house. With a pornographic moan of pleasure, she nodded eagerly.
With a silent nod, Ben's gaze darkened with desire as he moved to fulfil Y/N's request. There was a primal urgency in the air as he repositioned himself.
Her throat covered with his hand, his muscles tense with anticipation as he prepared to give her exactly what she craved. "How do you want me?" he murmured, his voice low and husky with desire.
"Hard," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper but filled with undeniable conviction. "I want you hard." With a silent growl of determination, Ben surrendered himself completely to the intensity of the moment. Ben knew there was no way Jack didn’t hear the bed.
As Y/N's body trembled with the waves of her climax, screaming his name when he didn’t stop. Ben felt a surge of primal desire course through him. Ben whispered hoarsely, "Again. I need you to give me one more. Come on... You can do it doll."
Ben leaned in close to Y/N while his eyes locked on the door when he noticed Jack standing there. His eyes lit with anger, but something in Ben’s gaze made him leave instead of bursting in anger.
Before he closed the door, he heard Ben "Does Jack take you like this?" His voice dripping with raw desire. "Does he make you scream his name the way you're screaming mine right now?" Leaving him standing outside the door, listening with the door in his hand.
Y/N's breath caught in her throat at the intensity of his words, her body trembling with a heady mix of excitement and apprehension. "No," she gasped, her voice barely above a whisper. "No one makes me feel like you do, Ben. Only you... Oh fuck!"
"Maybe I need to teach Jack a lesson," he said sucking on her neck. "Show him how to take care of you, fuck you the way you deserve." With a fierce possessiveness, Ben lifted Y/N's head, his fingers wrapping around her neck in a firm grip. As he continued to pound deep within her.
In that moment of ecstasy, as Y/N's body arched beneath his touch, Ben's voice was a low, husky growl in her ear. "Look," he murmured, his words a whisper against her skin. "Look who's watching."
Y/N's eyes fluttered open, and through the haze of pleasure, she saw Jack standing there. But in that moment, she was too far gone, too consumed by the intensity of her pleasure to care.
With a primal cry of release, Y/N surrendered herself completely to the ecstasy of the moment, her body trembling with the force of her climax.
Ben felt his release building, a wave of ecstasy threatening to consume him completely. As he approached the brink of climax. "Where do you want me?" he growled, his voice thick with desire. "Tell me."
"Inside," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath but filled with undeniable conviction. "I want you inside me." With a primal roar of satisfaction, Ben surrendered himself to the feeling, Y/N felt how he filled her up, while he clenched to her body.
As they both came down from their high, she looked back at the door. “Fuck.” She whispered while getting up to clean herself up in the attached bathroom. “You sound almost guilty.” Ben said as he stood behind her, his hand caressing her behind, fingertips moving over the red marks he left.
“He is the fucker who didn’t see the potential in you, doll. He got what he deserved.” - “I know... but I didn’t want him to see us.” Ben chuckles, his hand moved to her overstimulated core between her legs.
“Are you telling me you regret it?” He asked, Y/N turned to look at Ben. “What? No, are you kidding me... It felt amazing.” - “Good” he mumbled his lips against her neck, beard softly scratching her skin, while pulling her closer to him.
“Because I'm not done yet. “
--
Taglist:
@yvonneeeee
Let me know what you think, feel free to like, share or comment. Make sure you check out my masterlist.
#fanfic#fluff#smut#the boys#x reader#soldier boy#the boys amazon#jensen ackles#jensen fucking ackles#jensenedit#the boys hughie#billy butcher#18+ only#18+ content#18+ blog#the boys smut#x y/n smut#x y/n#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy x you#soldier boy smut#soldier boy x female reader#the boys series
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If you’re gonna make a smut fic please specify which sexual acts that will be in it I don’t want to be surprised attacked by a nigga getting his butt fingered
#black yn#x black fem reader#black reader#captain boomerang x reader#no hate tho just add warnings#black tumblr#maws#maws x reader#the boys#hughie campbell#hughie campbell x reader#invincible x reader#billy butcher#black noir#frenchie#frenchie the boys#homelander#slashers x reader#rz michael myers#rafe cameron x black!reader#kimiko miyashiro#mother’s milk#queen maeve#rz myers x reader#steve harrington x black reader#evan peters x reader#evan peters#ahs asylum#ahs coven#ahs hotel
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Wake Me Up - Part 2
Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader
Summary: A few weeks after you and Ben celebrate your first Christmas together, Ben is returning from another mission with the Supe Affairs team. When he discovers that you’ve been taken, he’ll do whatever it takes to find you. And then, to help you heal.
AN: Thank you so much for your lovely responses on Part 1! Last week's angst was very physical. Now let's get into emotional...
Song Inspo: “I Can Read Your Mind” by the Doobie Brothers.
Word Count: 6.4K
Tags/Warnings: Angst, PSTD, hurt/comfort, medical trauma and injuries…and a bit of Nurse Benjamin? lol
💚 Wake Me Up Masterlist || Break Me Down Masterlist
Part 2: “All in Your Eyes”
At first, it was all shapeless color.
It felt like a small eternity before your vision cleared, and you dimly became aware of being in a hospital room. Your steady heartbeat clipped away on the monitor.
You had an IV in your hand and wires suction-cupped to your chest. Your raggedy clothes had been replaced with a blue paper gown, hidden under the blankets keeping you warm.
It was a slow process, and it hurt, but you managed to turn your head. You saw a man sitting in the corner with a laptop balanced on his lap. He typed with two fingers at a time, which reminded you of your grandfather. His brown hair fell over his furrowed brows, but his beard was well-trimmed.
His head soon rose, possibly feeling the weight of your gaze. His eyes widened a fraction, and he hastily closed the laptop and set it down on his seat before he went to you. You frowned when he came to sit at your bedside, and even touched your cheek with a gentle hand.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he said. His voice was deep and smooth. “How’re you feeling?”
You didn’t have the energy to lean away from his hand, but you did give him a look of weary confusion.
“I…I don’t…who are you?” you asked.
His green eyes went blank for a moment. His hand fell from your cheek.
Then he chuckled in disbelief.
“Eyes are barely open, and already you’re fucking around,” he said.
That confused you even more. You were saved from answering, however, when there came a knock at the door. A blonde young woman peeked in. She brightened with a shocked, but happy smile when she saw you were awake.
“Hey! Oh my God, you’re awake,” she whispered in excitement. She went to your bed on the other side and picked up your hand. It took you a moment to remember her name, but you did recognize her.
“A-Annie? What…what happened?” you asked. You didn’t recognize the roughness in your own voice.
Annie shared a sobered look with the man sitting beside you, and she looked down at you again.
“Oh, hun. What do you remember?” she said.
You tried hard to think…but you couldn’t. It was all blurry and muddled in your mind.
Then, it was incredibly painful. A sharp, piercing pain that permeated through your skull and rattled down your spine, waking up the rest of your body in the worst of ways.
You whimpered, and the monitor began to beep more incessantly as your heart rate began to climb. You uttered a cry of pain while you held your aching head. You felt the gauze wrapped across your temples, forehead, and under your chin, half-covering your face.
The man turned to Annie with an angry frown.
“Get the goddamn doctor!” he snapped. But he reached for your closest hand and held it gently. He met your tearful eyes. Part of him didn’t know quite how to comfort you though. His eyes flit over your pained face, the way you were gripping your head with one hand.
He brushed his thumb over the one he held.
“…It’s okay, I got you,” he said eventually. “Just breathe.”
You couldn’t respond. There was too much pain, too much confusion. The last thing you saw was the worry in his eyes, before your head fell back against your pillow.
Your world faded away once again.
Dr. Helen Jeong, the neurologist Grace hired specifically to attend you, had been with you for a while. When she came out, Ben, Annie, your mother Marie, your sister Louisa, and the rest of the team (except for Butcher) were in the waiting room. All of them wanted to hear how you were doing, as well as the doctor’s prognosis.
Ben stood with his arms crossed, and Marie and Louisa followed suit. Technically, Marie was your next of kin, considering you and Ben weren’t married. She was close to tears again, but Louisa was supporting her.
“She’ll need a few more tests to confirm, but it looks like dissociative amnesia,” said Dr. Jeong. “It could be selective. Meaning, she remembers parts of her life, but not others, specifically tied to the past few days and the past year.”
“And me,” said Ben. He was frowning angrily. “Why doesn’t she remember me?”
She gave him a patient look.
“Her skull is fractured, but she’s also gone through an emotional trauma, as well as a physical one," she said. "The memories she’s lost are likely linked to that trauma, and so, her brain is trying to block out anything related to that painful time. It’s the body’s way of coping.”
Somehow, that explanation didn’t make it any better. Something dark and unfamiliar had been churning in Ben’s gut for days, but now he was forced to reckon with it.
It was guilt, and it was eating at his insides, clawing up to his throat. He covered it up with a hot layer of anger.
“Aside from time to heal from her injuries, it’s important that she be taken care of in a familiar, low-stress environment,” said Dr. Jeong. She aimed that last bit at Ben.
“How long until she’s better?” Louisa asked. “Will her memories come back at all?”
Ben shot her a dark look for even asking that question, but the doctor bobbed her head.
“It may take a while. Weeks, or even months, but have patience with her. As she heals, and with therapy, her memories should come back eventually,” she said. She gave Ben in particular a more reassuring glance.
He wasn’t interested in being reassured. He wanted results.
The doctor moved on so she could schedule an MRI for you, among other tests. Annie went over and laid a tentative hand on Ben’s arm. He glared at her touch and slid his gaze over to her.
“Look, we’re here for her…and for you,” she said. Even though she withdrew her hand, she looked sincere. “Whatever she needs, just let us know.”
Hughie was just behind her with a sympathetic look of agreement. M.M., Kimiko, and Frenchie were quietly supportive, if somber. You’d recognized Annie and Hughie earlier, but the others were strangers to you as well—likely because you’d met the other two at Supe Affairs, before you took on one fateful mission that would lead you to Ben. And him to you.
He let out a breath and gave Annie a minimal nod.
She smiled a little, and she and Hughie went back into your room to say goodbye for now. They promised to come back and visit, along with the others.
Meanwhile, Marie and Louisa were talking quietly. Ben’s ears perked up to it.
“I think she should come stay with you, Mom, until she’s better,” Louisa said.
When Ben heard that, he approached them. His darker frown was back in place.
“She’s coming home with me,” he said, in a tone that boded no argument. He should have remembered that your sister was too much like you sometimes. Fucking stubborn.
“If she doesn’t know you, she’s not going to be comfortable with you,” Louisa pointed out.
Marie gave her daughter a look, one that said she could’ve had a little more tact there.
“The best way for her to get her memories back is for her to stay with me, in a familiar place. In her home,” Ben said, his voice terse and shoulders tense.
“But trying to remember is hurting her,” Louisa said. “She needs to heal from her injuries first. And oh, how about this? No one will even tell us how the hell this happened in the first place!”
Ben’s frown deepened. Your younger sister had been warming up to him a bit more since the Christmas holiday you all spent together last month, but it seemed she was just as protective of you as you were of her.
Fine. Ben understood it, but Louisa was just a college student, not even old enough to order a fucking beer. He wouldn’t have this little girl telling him what was best for you.
However, as he glanced at your mother, he also couldn’t bring himself to answer Louisa’s non-question. At least, not with the whole truth.
“It was retaliation,” he replied, “for a supe we put away a while back.”
Louisa sighed heavily. Her lower lip trembled as tears welled up in her eyes, and she bit her lip and shared a look with her mother.
“Why did they want her though?” Louisa asked Ben, sniffling.
He held the tremor of unease deep inside, and he thought fast.
“He had connections in the CIA. She was the only part of the team here at the base, so he singled her out,” he said. The lie rolled off his tongue without much effort, even though part of it did add to the dark churning in his gut. His gaze fell beyond them.
“All of this is a moot fucking point,” he said. “All she needs is my blood, and she’ll be just fine.”
Louisa wiped under her wet eyes and scoffed.
“You think she’s going to accept a blood transfusion from a supe? Look, I’m sorry, but she’s not the person you know right now—”
“All the more reason to fix this sack of bullshit,” Ben snapped.
He turned on his heel and headed for your room. By now, Annie, Hughie, and the rest of them had cleared out. You were dozing, it seemed, but your eyes opened when Ben thundered in, followed closely by Marie and Louisa.
“Ben,” Louisa warned.
“What’s going on?” you asked weakly.
Ben shook his head and went to your bedside. He took up your hand and didn’t notice (or ignored) the apprehension in your eyes.
“Look, I know you think you don’t know me. You’ve been through…a lot,” he said. He paused when he considered the hell you’d probably endured the past few days. His gut began to roil again, but he pushed forward.
“Last year, you got hurt. Bad enough that you were going to need surgery,” he explained. “But I gave you some of my blood, and you healed right up. I’m gonna do the same for you now.”
You saw that he was serious, that he probably believed he was telling the truth. You just didn’t know this man—this supe that they’d told you was actually Soldier Boy. Instinctively you tried to pull your hand out of his grasp.
“No thanks,” you said, trying to hide your nerves. “I think I’m good healing on my own.”
Ben frowned. He held your hand a fraction tighter.
“Look—”
“No, you look,” you said in frustration, and a frisson of wariness. “I know you think I’m your…girlfriend or life partner or whatever the fuck, but I don’t know you.”
Just as the words left your lips, something sharp and painful flashed in your skull.
You can’t. You can’t. You can’t.
“But you do. You fucking know me!” Ben insisted. His grip on your hand tightened enough to make you flinch, a whimper sounding in your throat.
“Hey!” Louisa snapped at him.
“Ben,” Marie said, more gently, but not without urgency.
He realized what he was doing, and he forced himself to relax his grip. He watched you take your hand back and look at him like he was some kind of animal. He also realized then that you were scared. Scared of him.
Fuck me…
By degrees, he relented. Heaving a sigh, he carded a hand through his hair and gave a short nod.
“All right,” he said, and he met your eyes. “I’m, uh…I’m sorry, sweetheart. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
He held your wary gaze until you nodded in acceptance. He took in your face, bruised, and still stained pink from the blood that had been cleaned away with antiseptic wipes. Your neck, arms, and chest were the same; your other wounds were stitched up and bandaged.
According to the first doctor who evaluated you after you came out of emergency surgery (Ben had already forgotten the broad’s name), you’d also sustained broken ribs and a fractured cheekbone, aside from your other injuries.
“And…what about the rest of it?” Ben had asked. He spoke alone with the doctor, just outside your room. Marie and Louisa were in there with you now in the ICU.
The doctor shook her head, offering a look of professional reassurance.
“No. There’s no evidence of sexual trauma,” she said.
Ben took that information in with a nod. Inside his chest, however, the clenching around his heart eased a great deal.
But even with that relief, just your battered face, and the way you were looking at him now…it was all too much.
Ben ignored the voice deep inside that said this was what he deserved.
He stood up, and he left you with your family.
While Louisa had to go back to her dorm for school tomorrow, Marie stayed with you that night. You zoned in and out while New Girl played on the little TV on the wall.
Marie caressed your hair gently, though she was mindful of the way most of your head was wrapped after surgery to fix your skull. If only they could fix your mind too.
“That man…” you trailed. “Um, Soldier Boy. All that crazy shit he was saying…was it true?”
Marie gave you a look for your use of language, but she nodded gravely, and with sadness.
“Yes, Ben was telling the truth,” she said. “He’s the one who saved you. Believe me, he’s very upset that you’re hurt like this.”
You tried to process that as you frowned in contemplation. He’d certainly been…pushy. And determined, like he could actually heal you.
It didn’t matter though. You weren’t about to let a supe feed you his blood like a damn vampire, or whatever Compound V-tainted shit he tried to give you. You weren’t Bella Swan, and this wasn’t fucking Twilight.
“Ben” was rough, and demanding, and gave off a real assholish exterior. Just before he left, though, you also saw his upset. He had taken in your injuries like he was angry, just at the state of you. Like he was mad that he hadn’t been able to prevent it.
“I guess he went home,” you said. Marie shook her head.
“No, he’s still here.”
Your brows knitted together. “What?”
“He’s in the waiting room downstairs,” she explained. “Grace made sure he had a special pass so he could stay with us in the hospital, just in case…”
“In case of what?” you asked. Marie smiled and continued to brush your hair back.
“In case we need him,” she said. “For protection, he said.”
Her eyes shone with sadness again, like she knew something you didn’t. It made you suspicious, but you were surprised that he was still here, despite what you’d said to him.
…Huh, you thought.
Thanks to the (fucking awesome) power of morphine, you fell asleep shortly after.
A week later, you were still recovering in the hospital. The shitty fact of it was, between the medication for your injuries and the risk of pulling your stitches, you could barely move. Dr. Burke was pleased that you at least had feeling in your extremities. One of her main concerns for you had been mobility issues.
Well, you still had to use a bedpan, and sometimes you missed your mouth when you ate pudding, but at least you could feel your feet.
Marie took the whole work week off from her job in order to stay with you. Louisa visited you every day she could after her classes, but she had a recital coming up, and you didn’t want her to lose focus. You encouraged her to only come if and when she finished getting in all the practice she needed.
And Ben…well, he came often. Mostly when you were sleeping. And every time you woke up, you saw something new from him: a beautiful bouquet of flowers, imported chocolates, a snack from the deli down the street from the hospital, a good breakfast from your favorite café in the city, or even several orders of takeout for you, him, and Marie.
You also noticed how your mother doted on him almost as much as she did on you, offering to grab him cups of coffee, or laying her blanket over him while he napped in the big lounge chair close to your bedside.
The guy just refused to leave. So you didn’t say anything about it. You just watched him whenever you were lucid enough to notice he was there.
As it became easier for you to stay awake, and to observe his quiet, but solid presence, the more your wariness of Ben bled away.
You soon began to realize that you were curious about him. If you really had been with him before, how had you two met? And what had made you get with a supe, let alone the original supe Vought ever introduced to America?
You considered him now while he dozed in that uncomfortable looking chair. His brown locks had once again swept over his brows, almost obscuring his eyes. Part of you itched to lean over and brush it all away from his face. If only you were close enough.
You could admit, if just within the safety of your mind, that he was a damn fine specimen of a man. Between the cut of that bearded jaw, the broadness of his arms and chest, the length of those widespread legs…
“Keep staring at me and you’ll wear a damn hole in my face,” he muttered.
You inhaled sharply, and his eyes cracked open. A small smirk raised his lips in amusement. You smiled as well, more in embarrassment at being caught.
Ben let out a long breath and rolled the cracks out of his neck, confirming your assumption that the chair was even more uncomfortable than it looked. You felt a bit bad for him, that he was putting himself through all that for your sake…for someone who didn’t remember him.
He turned to you in askance. “How’re you holding up?”
You shrugged.
“Okay. Pain meds are finally kicking in, at least for the hour.”
He nodded, dragging a hand over his beard. He knew that you’d eaten lunch with your second dose of the day not too long ago.
“You still hungry?” he asked. “I don’t know how they could give you that shit. What was that, some poor fucking excuse for baby food?”
“Whatever it was, it wasn’t pleasant,” you agreed, but the doctor had requested something you could easily digest, with all the medication you were on.
Ben shook his head and rocked onto his feet. He’d get you a candy bar or something. He knew Twix was your favorite.
“Um…Ben,” you said, halting his steps. He turned to you with a raise of his brows. You pointed over to the folded quilt at the foot of your bed. Your mom had brought it from home.
“Would you give me that blanket over there?” you asked. “I’m a little cold.”
You’d get it yourself, but it pained you to fold yourself over. Ben was gracious enough to go over and get the blanket for you. He even opened it up and covered your body up to your chest. His face was stoic, more or less, but there was care in his hands. You found yourself staring up at his face. He leaned against the guardrail of your bed and met your eyes.
“Thank you,” you said, in a near whisper. “And, um…my water?”
You pointed to the plastic cup and jug on the rolling tray to his left. He shot you a look, but he did as you asked, pouring some fresh water into the cup and handing it to you. His fingers brushed with yours on the pass, but you tried not to focus on the warmth of his hand. Instead, you took a few sips from the cup and handed it back to him. He set it back on the tray for you.
“What’d I do to get the hot nurse?” you couldn’t help but tease.
Ben’s brows rose again, somewhat incredulous this time. Then, he was unable to restrain a cocky smile.
“Hmm, I’m a let that one go, since you’re laid up,” he said.
His gaze roamed your face. He noted that your purplish bruises were easing up somewhat, to green and yellow. Your lacerations were beginning to heal. And before, where there had been wariness, he now saw curiosity in your eyes.
“Can I ask you something?” you drew enough courage to ask.
His lips twitching to one corner, he lowered the guardrail and sat down on the edge of your bed. He gave you an expectant look. You sucked in a breath to steel yourself.
“How long have we been a…a thing?” you asked, pointing between the both of you.
Ben quirked a brow. “About a year now.”
You nodded, though your eyes were wide in surprise. You actually began to blush.
Ben smirked. He reached for the phone in his pocket and handed it over to you, after scrolling to find his photo album.
“Does that look like we don’t know each other?” he asked.
You shot him a wry glance, but you took the phone and started looking through the album. Many of the pictures that featured both of you looked like ones you’d taken, just from the angle. One picture was rather innocuous of him sitting on a couch, presumably watching TV, while you rested on his shoulder and smiled at the camera. His arm was wrapped around your waist.
Another was of you glaring at him in surprise, mid-bite on a large chili hot dog. He wore a Cheshire grin while leaning in close to your cheek.
There were several more than you flipped through, but each one made you sting with the unfamiliarity of it all. You couldn’t remember any of this, but it was undeniable what you and Ben were to each other.
Then you happened on a picture of just you, fresh out of the shower with a towel barely wrapped around you. You looked annoyed, but by the evidence of your smile, also amused that he’d surprised you with the picture.
Your blush intensified as you scrolled past that one. Then you encountered more pictures of you and him, each position filled with more bare flesh—and even more compromising than the next. You refused to press play on any of the videos.
“Oookay,” you said with a full flush heating your face and neck, and the tips of your ears. You minimized the album and all but tossed the phone back at him.
Ben’s smirk had deepened the longer he watched you peruse through the pictures. Now he chuckled and pocketed his phone.
“Like what you see, huh, sweetheart?” he couldn’t help but tease.
Frankly, you were adorable, getting all embarrassed, crossing your arms and pulling the blanket up to your neck. You shot him a look of warning.
What, you could eye him like a honey-glazed ham, flirt with him even, but you couldn’t take a little on the return side?
Ben chuckled some more and reached for your hand, to uncross your arms. You allowed it with a thinly veiled wariness. You weren’t afraid of him…anymore. But that didn’t mean there was no reason to keep your guard up around this guy.
Meanwhile, Ben actually struggled to figure out what he wanted to say to you. Something that wouldn’t put you off, or come off too strong. This was just too fucking strange…
He met your gaze with a heavy exhale.
“You’re going to be let out of here soon enough,” he said. “You don’t need to be scared of me. I’m not gonna hurt you. Matter of fact, I saved you.”
I’ve saved you more times than I can fucking count at this point, he thought wryly.
You stared back at him in contemplation. He sensed you were listening, really trying to hear him.
“You do care about me, don’t you?” you asked, almost in wonder.
Ben didn’t answer you right away. Your question took him off guard a bit, but he also found himself meeting your gaze.
“I think that’s pretty fucking obvious,” he said. You frowned at him then.
“Not entirely," you said. "Not if you don’t say it, Romeo.”
Ben stilled. Against his will, he remembered the last real words he’d said to you before this nightmare began.
“I love you,” you’d said. He could hear your pretty smile through the phone. “Just wanted to make sure you knew that.”
“Mhmm,” Ben replied, smiling himself. “I’ll see you soon, baby doll.”
He could also hear your disappointment, there in your brief silence.
“Come on, say it,” you implored.
Ben restrained a sigh. He cast a subtle look from the corner of his eye, watching Butcher, M.M., and Kimiko loading the car with their weapons, along with the supe they’d captured. They were all too close for comfort.
“Say what?” Ben asked, feigning ignorance. Your sigh reached him, stinging him.
“You know exactly what,” you replied.
He knew what you wanted, but he still didn’t give it to you.
He didn’t allow himself.
Now, he brushed a thumb over the back of your hand, and he sighed. Sometimes, regret weighed just as bad as guilt, even if you couldn’t admit to either one.
His gaze now slid up to yours.
“Well, I do… I care about you,” Ben said.
You’re fucking mine, his selfish heart added. He just didn’t think you’d react well to that admission.
“What do you say about coming home with me?” he asked. “I think being around all your stuff will help you…get better.”
You debated his proposition, and you realized his idea made sense. If this man was really your boyfriend, and you’d been living with him for a year…then maybe you could trust him.
Just not entirely.
“I want my mom to come too,” you said.
Ben smiled. It was a small, but true smile, and it took you by surprise. But you only felt your face getting warm again when he pressed his lips to the back of your hand.
“Yeah, she can come help me take care of you, ‘til you’re feeling better,” he said.
You regarded him for a moment, still wondering if you could trust him. The longer you stared into his eyes, the more you found yourself relenting.
“Okay,” you agreed. “I’ll go with you.”
After you were finally discharged from the hospital, Ben drove you and Marie out of the city to his apartment in Scarsdale. Technically, it was your apartment too.
He promised that it had been fitted with a much better security system, now with motion cameras around the apartment, and sensors on the roof. (You didn’t know that Hughie would have to explain to Ben how all that shit worked on his phone.)
The apartment itself was familiar to you, but it felt fuzzy in your mind. Like you had a dream of being here, living a life that wasn’t yours.
Thanks to the stairs, Ben left your bags at the foot of them, before he carefully maneuvered you into his arms without pressing on any of your stitches. You sucked in a shaky breath and held onto his shoulders, squeezing your eyes tight for a moment as the movement jostled your sense of equilibrium.
“You okay?” he asked. You blinked your eyes open and met his. His brows were furrowed in concern, but it was the intensity of his eyes that stole your breath. Part of you wanted to smile, half out of nerves, but you tempered it.
“Peachy,” you replied.
His lips twitched. He then moved carefully up the stairs.
He set you back down on your feet once he reached the top, at your insistence. Marie came in from behind with her suitcase and your forearm crutch, but Ben still kept a supporting arm around your waist.
“I’ve got it,” you told him, a bit nervous and hasty to escape his hold.
He released you, and reluctantly watched you head further into the apartment on your own two feet (and crutch). You wandered into each room like you were looking for a damn portal into Narnia.
It was hard for Ben to watch you like this. With a sigh, he went back downstairs to grab the rest of your things. He set them down in the living room while you ambled off into the guest room. Marie touched his arm in comfort.
“It’ll be okay, honey,” she said.
She’d developed a soft spot for Ben not too long after meeting him. And though he’d never admitted it, the sentiment was reciprocated.
He didn’t answer her, but after a moment, he nodded. She rubbed his arm with a faint smile and went to check on you.
Marie soon found you in the office you and Ben shared. It didn’t look like he used this room often, while your desk was covered in papers and files. It did, however, smell like his cologne in here.
Or, well, the scent was masculine and woodsy—like sandalwood and spice (and a hint of weed, as evidenced from the ashtray on his desk). You had to assume the scent belonged to him, even though you didn’t think he’d worn cologne at all in the hospital. Or maybe you just inherently recognized it as his.
Huh. Smell is the strongest sense, you mused to yourself.
The thought of you remembering anything at all from what you’d lost had you the slightest bit excited, and nervous. Dr. Jeong said you’d been through a terrible trauma. The evidence of it now littered your body and had nearly broken you. So you were fairly certain that there were things you didn’t want to remember.
The touch of your mother’s hand on your shoulder had you jolting. You breathed in relief when you saw her. Her eyes widened and she held up placating hands.
“Oh! I’m sorry,” she said. “You okay?”
You nodded, though you continued to take in your surroundings with a small frown. She helped you sit in one of the office chairs, as your strength was already waning.
“It seems like everything he said was true. It’s just…it’s a lot,” you said.
“Of course it is,” said Marie. “But if it helps, you seemed very happy here. You were just glowing all night with him at the Christmas party.”
Great, yet another event that was entirely blank in your mind. If you couldn’t remember celebrating your favorite holiday, then what was the point? You huffed.
“I just find it hard to believe that I’d end up with a supe,” you admitted. You worked at Supe Affairs for God’s sake.
Marie only laughed and rubbed your back.
“Well, you found a good one,” she said.
A good one, huh? you shook your head in true wonder.
Now that was food for thought.
When you first arrived, Ben had led you to the master bedroom and said it was your room. So why the fuck was he climbing into bed with you?
“Excuse me,” you frowned at him, drawing the blankets closer over your body. You only had on a large shirt over your underwear. It was how you preferred to dress for bed, and it was easier than pulling a pair of shorts over the healing scars on your legs.
Ben had on a gray shirt and some plaid pajama pants. He’d shucked off his old man loafers before making the right side of the bed dip with his weight. He raised a brow at you.
“What?” he asked.
“What do you think you’re doing?” you asked.
“Going to bed, sweetheart. Been a long fucking week,” he retorted.
“I thought this was my bed,” you said.
“It’s our bed,” he corrected. He grabbed the edge of the blanket to pull some of it towards him, but you pulled it tighter against you.
“Look,” you said flatly. “I agreed to come here and stay with you, but I didn’t agree to this kind of close quarters.”
Ben stared back at you in annoyance and willed his temper not to snap. So fucking what if he shared the bed with you? It was a California king. The odds of your bodies even touching were slim to none.
However, he saw that stubborn look in your eyes. It was all too familiar.
Christ on a cross. He forgot how goddamn difficult you were in the beginning.
And really, you two were at the beginning, all over again. He’d gotten you to trust him, slightly, but he knew the rest would take time.
Is this really fucking worth it? came an insidious thought deep inside. The selfish part that had ruled for most of his life.
Then, he spied the silver Rolex on his nightstand—the one you’d gifted him for Christmas, along with the photo album that you’d put together for him. It included the only pictures he kept of his mother, and new ones you’d made with him. They were pictures you’d collected and captured of your life together so far.
With a deep sigh, Ben wordlessly got out of bed. He grabbed up his pillow and a throw blanket that had slid to the floor, and he made his way to the living room. Marie was taking up the only guest bedroom, so he supposed he was relegated to the couch in his own home. How the fuck did that happen?
He sat down heavily in the middle of the couch and had to take some deep breaths. His head slowly fell into his hands, elbows resting on his knees. With both hands, he tried to rub the exhaustion and frustration from his face.
There were words he couldn’t say. However, within the safety of his mind, he was forced to reckon with it.
This was his fault. He knew it, down to his bones.
It was all really his fucking fault.
He should’ve gotten you a protective security detail from the beginning. He just didn’t think anyone would have the balls to…
Ben breathed past the tightness in his chest that was once again clawing at his throat.
Well, this fucking blows like a cheap whore, he thought.
And as you might expect, he slept fitfully that night.
The next morning, you winced at the ache in your head that was now customary for you. You had practically drowned in this giant-ass bed, but the reality was, you’d barely slept. You just couldn’t get comfortable enough to stay asleep.
You didn’t know if it was because it was an unfamiliar place, or because you now had a lower dose of pain meds than you’d been given in the hospital, or if it was because there was just something missing here.
You sighed and hauled yourself out of bed to freshen up. Really, you should’ve waited for your mother or Ben to help you out of bed, but you weren’t used to being incapacitated like this. And even when you were down, it had been ingrained in you (through your father’s special brand of “parenting”) to play through the pain.
So you grabbed your crutch from beside the bed, and somehow you managed to make it to the bathroom by yourself.
After dressing in sweatpants, a bra, and a tank top, you padded out into the hall. Your mom was still sleeping, but you found Ben in the living room.
He was sprawled out across the couch. Half the covers had slipped off his body and pooled on the floor. Again, you tried not to admire the length and broadness of his form, and the way that shirt stretched across his chest and arms.
His arm was curled across his closed eyes, but he lowered it when he heard you approaching.
His eyes were a bit red and bleary. It didn’t look like he’d slept very well either. You felt bad for that, as you leaned on the back of the couch to greet him.
“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” you teased him a little. “You slept like shit out here, didn’t you?”
“What was your first damn clue?” he groused. You had a feeling he was grumpy in the morning, regardless of how well he slept.
“Okay, I’m sorry about that,” you said. Even though you had every right to sleep alone, you still felt bad for making him sleep out here. “How about I make us some coffee?”
He nodded with a grunt. You smiled and teetered only slightly on your way to the kitchen. Ben frowned as he realized it.
“You shouldn’t be walking around like that yet,” he called after you.
He forced himself to get off the couch, rolling to his feet. You shot him a stubborn look.
“I’m fine,” you said.
Ben’s frown deepened with annoyance.
…Right. Okay, you weren’t exactly fine.
You were still exhausted. Still felt like utter crap, as stiffness pulled at your muscles and pain at your stitches and broken ribs. And, oh yes, your head was still broken.
But, this was the most mobile you’d been in a few weeks. You were determined to do at least one normal, productive thing today. Even if it was just making coffee, then you were going to count that as a win.
By the time Ben joined you, the coffee was done percolating and you handed him a mug. He took a sip before he remembered to tell you…no cream.
He looked into the mug in wonder. You’d actually made his coffee with sugar, no cream. Just like he liked it.
Noticing the look on his face, you paused.
“Oh, sorry. I forgot to ask how you take it.”
“No,” he said, sitting across from you at the breakfast bar. “It’s just right.”
You blinked in surprise, but then you shrugged and sipped at your own cup of coffee, which had both cream and sugar. While you were preoccupied with brainstorming where to order in for breakfast, Ben allowed himself to smile a little.
You were in there, somewhere.
He just needed to help you come out.
AN: See? I promise, there's hope. 💚
(But there's also still drama ahead...)
Next Time:
“We’re not gonna have this discussion again. You need to fucking eat,” he said. “I could feed you, though I promise you’re not gonna like it.”
His surly, frowning face was annoying you. His deep voice was annoying you. His tall, ridiculous wall-of-man body in your line of vision was annoying you, clothed in a rumpled shirt and the sweatpants he’d slept in.
Everything about him annoyed you right now.
But that could also have something to do with the pounding ache in the back of your skull, radiating forward and between your eyes.
“Bro, I’m on like, three kinds of medication,” you replied in weary irritation. “With what appetite do you expect me to eat?”
Bro? His eyebrow twitched.
▶️ Keep Reading: PART 3
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You Call It Madness But I Call It Love
Chapter 15: What Do You Know About Love?
Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV
Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy. This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter fifteen of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)
Word Count: 6.5K (I got carried away again)
Warnings: References to sex, Cursing, Angst, Crying, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.
Note: This is told from the Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics
Series Masterlist
Masterlist
**************************************
Present Day *Reader POV*
The shopping bags that hung from your arms would have been heavy for the average person, but for you it seemed like a bag full of pillows. It was the day after you saw Rosemary and said goodbye. Despite the almost excruciating hangover you had this morning, because it'd been almost forty years since you last had a drink, you dragged yourself to the mall to try and find outfits for your trip to Russia. You were satisfied with the few outfits you found, but you were worried because the plane left in a few hours and you were no where near ready.
Mentally or physically.
As much as you wanted to go help Ben, you still were apprehensive about the whole situation, not just about going in blind, but wondering what the hell you were going to do when you saw Ben. You wanted to hold on to your anger, but you were afraid that the moment you looked into his green eyes you would forgive him.
I am not going to forgive him. I'm going to break him out then tell him to fuck off and I never have to see him ever again.
Despite your apprehension, you knew that you had to do this, that you had to go help him even if you still hated him because you couldn't bear the thought of the boy you grew up with being tortured over there all alone. It was the alone part that hurt the most. You knew how much Ben hated being alone. He never had to say it out loud, but all the time you'd spent together in your bedroom before and after the injection spoke volumes.
Of course you still had no idea where you were going, but figured that if you went to the Kremlin you could get some answers, which meant you'd either have to lie your way in or just kill anyone in your path. Which would be messy, but necessary. You try to shake off the guilt of exposing yourself again and what that could mean for Rosemary and Lou. You made sure that Rosemary knew to pack a bag for herself and for Lou and told her to wait for your call.
You wanted to be there to escort them out of the city, didn't want to split up and have them get snagged while you were waiting for them at the rendezvous point, so you told Rosemary to take a few days off and lay low.
When you get to the outside door of your apartment building toting the bags, you notice that it's been broken, as if someone tried to pull it off its hinges.
Well that's great. Hopefully the building manager noticed that.
Your mind drifts back to Ben as you step into the elevator.
What if he isn't alive when I get there? It was an unwelcome thought, but it meant that you wouldn't have to talk to him.
Maybe if I knock him out when I get there and just leave him in a Russian motel somewhere, I won't have to talk to him. You pause. Will he want to talk to me?
The memory of the last time you spoke flashes through your mind bringing an unmeasurable amount of rage and heartbreak back over your body. The dam you built to keep out everything that happened was reaching capacity, especially given the recent events with Countess, and you knew that the moment you saw Ben it was going to burst open. You hoped that you'd be able to keep it together long enough to get out of the lab or wherever the hell he was being held, before you lost it. But it was doubtful.
As you walk down the hallway to you apartment, you notice that your front door is open and you stop walking. Apprehension spikes at the back of your mind as you examine the door. The lock is broken and door is cracked just enough for you to hear people talking inside in hushed tones. You creep forward and look through the crack.
You've got to be kidding me. You groan to yourself noticing Butcher and Hughie standing in your living room.
Great. Just what I need. Right when I'm going to leave they show up. Guess that explains the mystery of the broken door downstairs.
You think about walking away, of going back down the elevator and hoping that by the time you come back they would be gone, but you knew you had to face them and you still had to pack. So you push open the front door of your apartment and step into the room.
"You know when I called saying that I had something else to say about Soldier Boy, I assumed you would call, not break into my apartment." You sigh before moving to the right side of the counter that divides the room between the living room and the kitchen and depositing the shopping bags on the stainless steel top.
"Maybe you shouldn’t leave your apartment unlocked poppet. Anyone could walk in." Butcher replies with a grin.
"Hmm. Sure. You guys here for more coffee?"
"Go shopping did you?" Butcher ignores your snark eyeing the bags.
"Yeah I needed a few new outfits for my art show next month." The lie is easy, but you know that the sudden appearance of the two of them probably meant you were caught red handed. Of course now with everything that happened with Countess, you didn't care anymore if Butcher and Hughie knew who you really were. "You doing okay there Hughie?" You raise an eyebrow as you notice how his heartbeat has spiked since you entered the apartment.
"Good." He says, but he looks uneasy.
Well, guess he's afraid of me now.
"Huh. And here I thought you were replacing your jacket." Butcher throws your ruined jacket onto the floor between you.
You look from the jacket to Butcher. You hadn't bought a replacement and hadn't wanted to throw it out. You were still hoping that the scorch marks looked like you had "distressed" it. It didn't and you knew that, but you loved that coat so much.
"See, I think it’s a big coincidence that Countess got right fucked after we came and talked to you." Butcher smiles.
"Probably the same coincidence as Gunpowder dying before you showed up here the first time." You breeze with a tight-lipped smile.
Where was he going with this? Was he here to kill me? You think about what Legend said about Butcher killing supes.
"That looks bad." Butcher gestures to the jacket. "You have a little spat with your good friend?”
"Let's just say she said a few things that upset me." Your eyes skate from Butcher to Hughie sizing them up. "If you're here to kill me, you're welcome to try. Oh sorry, 'arrest me'." You make air quotes around the words. "But we both know you're not government agents, you reek of Compound V and the last time I checked there was that whole, no supes in the government thing."
"Wouldn't it have been easier to get this out of the way the first time?" Hughie asks.
"I didn't want to be involved." You shrug your shoulders.
"Then why you'd buy a plane ticket to Russia?" Butcher takes a step towards you, but you hold your ground.
You weren't afraid of him.
"I hear it's nice this time of year. Not too hot, not too cold. Very pleasant." You snap back at him eyes narrowed, before you look down at the antique watch on your wrist. "Look I'd love to have a heart to heart, but I just don't have time to do this little dance with you. So we can either get to the part where you try to kill me or-" You raise your gaze from the watch to glare back at Butcher, but then your eyes focus on the hallway behind him and your heart stops.
Ben is standing there in the shadows looking at you the same way he always has, with those wonderful piercing green eyes that makes all other memories of them be put to shame. He's dressed in modern clothes, wearing a dark green shirt that hugs his perfect muscular chest and is the same color of his suit, your favorite color and the one you can never look at without thinking of him because damn it, it's also the color of his eyes. He looks the same, but different. His hair is longer and darker than it was the last time you saw him and his cheeks are covered by a trimmed but thick beard. It was unusual given that you'd never seen him with more than just a little bit of stubble and annoying because it makes him look even more ruggedly handsome, but despite the piercing way his eyes follow you, you can see a haunting memory of the last forty years.
You're upset that the one of the first thoughts you'd had beside staring at him open mouthed is that you wished you were wearing something more flattering than one of your pairs of paint splattered overalls over an old band t-shirt. You were going to Russia to get him and yes maybe you were shopping for things that you could move in, but you had picked out a particular revenge outfit that you believed would make Ben regret everything he did to you and also might have been paired with a particularly badass set of boots that made your legs look very long. The outfit that made you feel beautiful and sexy was unlike the one you were wearing at the moment. Also because you hadn't brushed your hair today and had just stuck it up in a messy bun at the back of your head.
You're struck with the urge to run to him and kill him at the same time, but you can't move and you can’t think.
Apart of you believed that you would find him dead in Russia, a sad thought but it meant that you wouldn't have to relive everything all over again. Everything that went to shit the last 24 hours you spent together that you relived with Countess the other day and now you were reliving when you looked at him standing there looking better than he should.
Because damn it, only Ben could be tortured in a lab for the past 40 years and walk away looking like a GQ model. I've never hated anyone more.
"Ben?" Your voice is no more than a hoarse whisper.
Ben pushes past Hughie and Butcher, taking careful steps towards you like he doesn't want to scare you away. "Y/n." The sound of your name on his lips fills you with an inescapable amount of warmth.
Traitor. You think to yourself at your body’s reaction.
He's standing so close to you now that you can smell the same shampoo and aftershave he always used and it brings back memories of the nights he spent in your bed with you laughing and talking like nothing had changed making you feel alive again for the first time in forty years. Before everything went into the blender set to puree.
Ben's eyes trace your body like he can't believe you're standing in front of him making you wish again that you're wearing the outfit you picked out so that you could look as good as he does. And just as he raises his hand towards your face you remember why you hated him, remember that night, remember what Countess said that caused her to lose her head.
Your hand flashes out so quick you don't think Ben notices it until it lands with a resounding slap against his cheek that sends him reeling back from you. Your strengths were similar, almost identical, and if he hadn't been invulnerable it would have ripped his perfect jaw from his face.
"What the fuck was that for?" Ben snaps, green eyes blazing as he looks back at you.
"You've got some nerve coming back here after all these years." You spit, the anger rising in your chest with wings of fury that beat against your ribcage. "Did you really think that you could just say my name again and make me forget everything that happened Benjamin? I am not one of those trashy women that you used to fuck and the fact that you think you can show up here, give me the fucking puppy dog eyes, and think that I’ll swoon, is ridiculous!”
There goes the dam.
Your gaze levels on Hughie and Butcher who look just as stunned. "And you two. Why did you bring him here? I didn’t want any part of this!”
"Why did you pretend to be dead!" Hughie shouts back.
"Did you think that maybe that was me trying to tell you that I didn't want to be involved? Or are you two just that fucking stupid?"
"Why did you buy a plane ticket then?" Butcher asks again, raising an eyebrow.
Ben is watching you with anger burning in his eyes. It's difficult for you to look at him. Every time you do you think about your last night together, the morning after when he pushed you away, and finally the night where he ripped out your heart and stomped all over it.
How did I ever think I could look at him again when I got him out of Russia?
"Because even though I hate him. He doesn't deserve that. The Ben I knew would have come to get me, and I wasn't going to leave him to rot in some fucking Russian prison." You snap back. "Now get out of my apartment."
"Sweetheart-" Ben begins to say.
"No. No. No. I don't want to hear it from you. Nothing you can say can make this better. I’m glad you’re free or whatever, but go. Get out." You push past him, but Ben's hand flashes out and grabs your wrist with enough force that you feel the bruising of your skin.
"No." He towers over you.
"Let. Me. Go." Your eyes narrow shifting to bright purple. The entire room begins to tremble, the glass windows shake in their panes and the glass jars full of paint brushes on your studio table begin to clink against one another. But he doesn't remove his hand.
"Not until you listen." Ben's own green eyes have hardened into a emerald.
You latch onto the wrist that is holding you and break his grip, before spinning and throwing him backward across the room away from you. Ben's body flies past Hughie and Butcher who watch with wide eyes as he hits the back of the couch and pinwheels over it with a loud thud as he lands on the cushions. You would have rather thrown him into the brick living room wall, but you restrained yourself.
"I don't want to hear anything you have to say Benjamin. You said enough that night and apparently you were saying lots of things to Countess about me. So get out." Your eyes skate across Butcher and Hughie. "All of you."
Hughie is still watching you with wide eyes, like he can't believe that just happened.
Join the club kid.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Ben shouts, standing from the couch and straightening his clothes. You don't need to be a psychic to know how angry he is. In fact, you're surprised he's not throwing you out the window or at least throwing a punch. Ben didn't tolerate it when anyone put him in his place and it definitely looks like it's taking him an extreme amount of effort not to attack you, given the way his hands are clenched into fists and the way his jaw is tensed so tightly you can see the muscle flexing.
"She told me what you said about me. That you threw me a pity fuck because you felt sorry for me, that you were bored when we had sex because I was so inexperienced."
"It's not true."
"Isn’t it?" You're trying desperately not to cry, but the angry tears have already begun to well up in your eyes. "The last thing you sad to me was that I was pathetic and that you never would love me, never could love me. That you fucked me because you felt bad for me and you wished I would just fuck off. That I was just another warm pussy and that I meant nothing to you. So forgive me for not believing you."
"Oh shit." Butcher mutters under his breath.
"Damn." Hughie echoes.
"I know what I said to you, Y/n. I've spent the past 40 years regretting it-" Ben begins to say, but you interrupt him.
"Oh I'm so sure. The Great Soldier Boy actually has a conscience, let me just alert the media." You spit back. "Oh wait, sorry you wouldn't want that getting out would you Ben? Because that would mean you aren't a man."
"Y/n-" He growls.
"You don't get to come in here and apologize and act like you did nothing wrong. You're not here because you feel sorry, you're here because you want me to dote on you, to follow you around and give a shit like I did for 40 fucking years.”
“Y/n-“
"Stop saying my name like that!" You shout and the glass sugar dish on the counter flies off the counter and smashes into the floor sending shards of glass everywhere.
Hughie flinches.
"Like what?" Ben exclaims.
"Like you care." You cross your arms over your chest staring him down because you don't want to keep crying.
"I do fucking care about you-" Ben snaps running his hand through his dark hair frustrated.
"No you don't. You never did. You’ve made that perfectly clear.”
"Yes I do."
"Please stop talking."
"What else do you want me to say?" Ben shouts back, moving towards you. "I'm trying to fucking apologize-"
"I don't want you to say anything and I don't want to hear your half-assed apology! I want you to leave. You and your creepy friends." You gesture back to where Hughie and Butcher are watching with open mouths, who are unsure if they should leave or watch the show.
"They're not my friends."
"And neither am I! Which means I don’t have to listen to anything you have to say!”
"Y/n please-" His teeth are gritted together.
“I'm not some fangirl Ben. I was your friend, your friend before any of this. Before any of this fucking supe shit. I cared about you. I had been in love with you since I was 8. I had taken care of you since the night we met." More tears squeeze down your cheeks as a lifetime of happy memories before everything went down the drain wash over you. The wonderful times you'd shared together at the park, in your bedroom back in Philadelphia, dancing in the dancehall, at baseball games and Ben walking you home all the while you wobbled down the street drunkenly and sang off key. All the blissful little moments that you thought maybe he felt the same way about you and then followed by the moments you spent together the night of your birthday, when you felt more special and loved than you'd ever had. It makes the knife he stuck in your back even sharper.
"That night we spent together meant everything to me. I thought it was special and I thought you loved me. But you don't. You just fucked me because you were bored and you found the first person who said yes.” Your body turns away, but he grabs you by the shoulders to make you look at him.
"I do love you damnit!" He shouts. "I didn't want to-" Ben's jaw clenches in frustration, looking back at Butcher and Hughie. "Can you two just fuck off?"
"I wish you all would." You say, trying to loosen his grip on your shoulders, but he doesn't let go. You think about throwing him across the room again, because it made you feel a lot better.
"Fine. We'll be outside." Butcher says tugging Hughie away.
"Are you sure?" Hughie asks looking from you to Ben as if he's worried to leave the two of you alone.
"You want to be here? Because they're either going to kill each other or start fucking." Butcher responds.
"We are not going to start-" You begin, but they're already out the front door of your apartment leaving you alone with Ben, who is still holding on to your shoulders.
"Please listen to me." Ben says looking deep into your eyes. "When you said that you loved me it-" He stops looking for the right word as if he can't say the next ones that come out of his mouth. "Oh fuck it, it fucking scared me. Okay? It scared me, Y/n, and damnit I'm not a pussy! I'm not afraid of anything!"
“Oh no you could never be a pussy could you? Soldier Boy could never admit that he had real feelings for someone.” Your voice wobbles, tears trailing down your cheeks as you poke him in the chest to emphasize every word. “And now you’re just saying what I want to hear, because you want to have another quick fuck!” You push your hands against his chest trying to push him off of you, but he won't let go. "You're just saying it because its been forty years since you had sex and you thought, huh might as well find the most pathetic person I know, Y/n won't say no if I pretend to be everything she wanted again."
He doesn't mean it. He doesn't love me.
"I’m not lying to you! And I’m not pretending! I wasn't pretending that night either!” Ben roars so loudly you flinch. “That night I felt things with you that I had never felt with anyone else. It wasn't cheap sex or a quick fuck-" His jaw tightens as if he's embarrassed to admit it. "Damn it.” His teeth are gritted together. “We made love. I understood that when I woke up the next morning and I was happy to be there with you. I knew that I loved you and I wanted to tell you, but I fucked it all up instead. I fucked Countess because I was scared of what loving you meant. But I’m ready now, I’m not scared anymore. I love you!”
He's saying everything you always wanted him to, but you're scared. Scared that he's just saying it, that he thinks it's what you want to hear and this is the only way that he can get you back into his life because he needs someone to follow him around, because he can't be alone.
You stand there for a minute taking in his stance. His head is slightly bowed in shame, shoulders tight, body leaning towards you. But then you catch his eye, you see the sorrow, frustration, and pain in his gaze. Ben was not big on sharing feelings and for him to admit all of these things aloud was shocking enough without the obvious emotions flashing in his eyes. It was so different than the stoic or pissed off attitude he usually had when he was Soldier Boy. The look in his eyes is so earnest and Ben has never been a good liar, not to you anyway. You always knew what he was thinking.
If I forgive him then what does that mean? I forget the past 40 years like they never happened? I forget all the tears when he broke my heart? Forget how broken I was? How broken I still am?
You think of all the times you missed him, all the times you forgot about what he said to you and remembered the good, all the times you wanted him there with you and Rosemary because you knew he would love to be there. All the early memories together, all the missions, everything that lead up to the falling out and Ben’s supposed death. Ben's admission of guilt and his confession of love for you was shocking. Especially because the Ben you knew 40 years ago would have rather dropped dead than say the words "make love."
No. I won't give in. I can't do this, I can't do this all over again. I was better, I was moving on, he doesn't have the right to come here and mess up my life all over again.
"No." You shout, shoving him away with all your strength. Ben stumbles backward, his eyes wide as if he wasn't expecting you to push him away, because of course he wasn't. “You don’t know anything about love. You’re just saying that because you know it’s what I want to hear, what I’ve always wanted you to say to me.”
He still doesn't understand how much he hurt me. And he doesn't deserve my forgiveness.
“I’m not just saying that, it’s true. Please y/n-“
"I don't believe you. And when I said I never wanted to see you ever again I wasn't lying. So get out Ben!" You shout.
"No. I love you and I'm not leaving." Ben says back determined.
You weren't prepared for what those words did to you. You weren't prepared for the floodgate of emotions that exploded the moment those words passed through his lips or the way it felt like you were being tugged in two different directions. Because despite wanting to throw him across the room again, those three little words made you want to run into his arms and hold him close, made you want him to take you to bed and make you forget all the shitty things that happened forty years ago, make it like he never left.
But you couldn't do it. As much as you wanted to forgive him, you couldn't because you didn't trust him anymore, you didn't trust that he could give you what you wanted.
“Too bad! I won’t do this to myself again. All I did was care about you, help you. I stood by you and made excuses for the person you became and I held on to this picture of the boy you used to be. The one I fell in love with. The one that used to climb in my window when things were hard. The one that took me to my first baseball game. The one who danced with me. The one that made me feel like less of a freak because he understood me. And the one that begged me to leave Howard and everything I knew and come with him. That night we were together I saw that boy again. I loved that boy. I would have done anything for him and I did. But he’s not here anymore. And I hate myself for holding on to him as long as I did.”
"But I told you I loved you!" Ben exclaims.
“Just saying that isn’t enough, not after everything that happened!” You shout. "You're forty years too late Benjamin. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m exhausted and I’m going to go to bed. And I don’t want you to be here when I wake up.”
"Y/n please-" You hate how he sounds when he says it, like he's broken, because Ben has never once sounded that way in all the years you'd known him. You hate how he looks. How his dark hair is falling forward into his face and he looks so much like the boy you used to love that it makes you want to scream, because you wanted to believe that he was gone, but all you see when you look up at him is that boy. There is not one shred of Soldier Boy in the way he looks right now and you hate that. You hate that you wanted to forgive him, that all it took was him looking like at you like that. But you still can't do it.
"Just go." Your throat thickening as you say it, fresh tears trailing down your cheeks. "I don't want you here. I never want you to come here ever. I never want to see you again.” You lie pushing past him and walk down the dark hallway, slamming and locking your bedroom door behind you. Your body sinks to the floor as you pull your knees up into your chest, sobs shaking your body and tears pour from your eyes.
How many tears can I spend on one man? How do I still have any left after all these years? How could I have been stupid to think that I was over him? That I could just go to Russia, break him out, and then push him out of my life so easily? None of what just happened was easy.
Your face presses into your knees. You want to call Rosemary, call her and tell her what happened, but your phone is still on the counter and you couldn't go back out there, because you knew he was still there. Standing in your living room looking too perfect after all these years and saying all the things you always wanted him to and you don’t want to go out there and forgive him.
So you stay. Your back pressed against the door, crying into your knees and hoping that this will just all end.
Because it’s got to one day right?
***************************************************
*Soldier Boy POV*
He hadn't meant to reach for you, but all he wanted was to feel the gentle swell of your cheek beneath the palm of his hand, the smoothness of your skin against his rough fingertips, and to memorize the planes of your face with his touch. You were even more beautiful than he remembered. Your curves perfectly accentuated by a pair of cute paint splattered overalls that made him smile, and your hair pulled away from your face in a messy bun but still made you look effortless and striking. When he saw you standing there, it was like taking a punch to the gut. He knew that he missed you, but seeing you there warm and alive made him want to crush you against his chest and never let you go ever again.
He had laid himself bare before you, allowing himself to push through the urge to shove all his emotions back beneath the surface as his father taught him, and spoke, instead, the words he wished that he had said all those years ago.
Ben's shoulders tense when he thinks of what you shouted back at him, how broken you looked. His heart falls into the pit of his stomach when he remembers the tears in your eyes. Ben hated it when you cried. He also hated that the first time he saw you in forty years he made you cry, again.
He didn't know how to fix this. Ben thought that his apology would be enough to make you at least try to forgive him, but it hadn't. You had shoved him away from you, refused to let him touch you or comfort you-
Why is she so damn stubborn? I apologized! I told her that I loved her! Isn’t that what she wanted?
He grits his teeth together thinking about how you threw him across the room like he weighed nothing. If anyone else had done that to him, Ben would have killed them, but he knew that he deserved it. He knew you would be mad, but he thought that you would at least want to hear everything he had to say instead of cursing him out and slamming the door in his face.
When you slammed your door behind you, he had stood outside of it for an hour listening to you cry, heard your soft muffled sobs. At one point he leaned his head against the door and wished you would let him in so he could hold you while you cried, even though the thought made him feel like a pussy. He wanted to comfort you. He wished you had forgiven him, allowed him to take you to bed, allowed him to show you how sorry he was and how much he loved you. He wished that you let him help you forget the last shitty forty years that you spent without him, forget what he said and what he did to you that night.
The harsh words you yelled at him make him flinch, when you told him that you didn't want him there and never wanted him to come back. They were the words that he always feared you would say to him when he climbed in through your window at night or when he showed up at your apartment when you were still on Payback. And hearing you say those words felt worse than anything those Russian fucks did to him. Because Ben didn't know where he belonged if he wasn't with you, he didn't know what to do if you weren't in his life, you were the only thing that mattered.
How could I fuck this up this much?
Ben looks back at the clock on the wall in the kitchen which shows he'd been there for three hours waiting for you to come out of your room, but you hadn't. He knew it was because you fell asleep, he could hear your heart beat, your soft breath against the pillows, and the almost silent sounds you made when you slept. They were exactly the same as when he would fall asleep next to you and damn it he didn't realize how much he missed them until this exact moment.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. How do I fucking fix this?
Ben stands from the couch and walks down the hallway for the millionth time to stand outside your door preparing to knock, but he didn't know what to say. He thought that he'd said enough, but judging by your reaction he hadn't.
The thought of saying anything else was difficult for him to swallow. It was hard enough to say what he had to you, but he was realizing he was going to have to delve even deeper to make you even look at him again or want to be around him.
Finally he goes to the front door of your apartment before he looks back down the hallway. He didn't want to leave, didn't want you to wake up and him not be there despite what you said about wanting him to leave. He wanted you to understand that he wasn't going anywhere and that he was never going to leave you ever again no matter how hard you tried to push him away. But he needed to leave now, not for long, just long enough for him to get what he needed.
He had seen the florist shop on the corner when Butcher drove up. As Ben walked down the street in the direction of the florist he remembered the conversation he had with Butcher after you slammed your door in his face. Convincing Butcher to let him remain in the apartment was difficult, but finally when Ben threatened to rip Hughie in half, Butcher relented stating that he would give Ben one night with you before he came back. That was the deal anyway, Ben had lied, because like hell he was going to leave now that he'd found you again.
Ben wasn't planning on leaving and even if you couldn't stand to look at him, Ben would not go. Even if it meant sleeping on that shitty couch every night.
He would never leave you again.
The smell of the flowers wafted out of the small shop when Ben opens the door, his eyes skating across the numerous bouquets, each one more extravagant than the last. Other women would swoon over them, but not you. His eyes fall first on roses, but he turns away. He knew that you didn’t like roses, although many believed them to be classic, Ben knew that you thought over the years that roses had become generic and overused. He of course had sent some to numerous women over the years, but he liked that you were different. He always liked that about you. He rolls his eyes when he remembered when Howard bought you some every week.
Because of course that asshole didn’t know what y/n liked. No one knows her as well as me.
The man behind the counter eyes him when he walks in. "Can I help you find something sir?"
"No." Ben says gruffy looking at the displays again, but then he sighs. "Do you have any lavender?"
"Lavender?"
"Yeah." Ben knew it was the only thing that you would accept, knew that it was your favorite because it reminded you of the house your family rented over the summers up North. Ben hated those summers. He'd break into your bedroom and sleep in your bed while thinking of you and reading the letters you sent him over and over again, the ones that you pressed fresh lavender into and the ones that made him realize just how much he needed you.
Those of course weren’t the only letters you ever sent him. When he went to boarding school he’d wait for you to send him a letter and one of your doodles or a small painting. He kept every one in a cigar box under his bed. It was why he was kicked out of boarding school number nine, a fight he had with another student began because the student had found the box and then proceeded to mock Ben endlessly by passing around the letters you sent him. Ben had never told you what the fight was about.
Ben stops as he realizes how he’s going to get you to listen to him.
“Here you are sir.” The florist reappears at the counter holding a large vase of freshly cut lavender.
“Do you have a phone I can borrow?” Ben asks.
“Sure.”
The object the man hands him is not a phone, well not a phone that Ben’s ever seen before.
“I said a phone-“
“That is a phone?” The man looks confused.
“How do I fucking call someone with this?” Ben sighs shaking the black rectangle in his hand and looking for the buttons.
The man takes the object and swipes his fingers across it before handing it back to him so Ben can see the numbers to dial. “Just push what you want and hit the green button.” The man says, looking at Ben like he's crazy.
“Oh. Thanks.” He mutters, before dialing the number and holding the phone up to his ear.
Legend answers on the first ring.
“Hey it’s me. Do you still have all my old shit from my apartment?”
“Somewhere.”
“I’ll be there in 10 minutes.”
******************************************
N/A: Why not end on a cliffhanger? This chapter is a bit longer, because this week is CRAZY for me and I'm not sure when I'll be able to write the next chapter. But I'm not giving up on these two. They deserve the world.
Thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you guys think. If you'd like to be added to my taglist, please let me know :)
Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303 @deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs @bughill126 @simplyfixated @sleepjam @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts @onlyangel-444 @lov3vivian @mxltifxnd0m @mayafatimakhan @marvel-mistress @my-obsession-spn @lifeonawhim @soldirboy @liuope @brynanna @abramswife @xxannyxx @babyinatrench-coat1 @the-gentle-spirit
#soldier boy x you#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy fanfiction#soldier boy x female reader#jensen ackles soldier boy#soldier boy#soldier boy/ben#the boys#jensen ackles#soldier boy fic#billy butcher#the boys amazon#hughie campbell#the boys fanfic#jackles#the boys season 3#the boys series#the boys tv#the boys s3
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positions
cw: nsfw, gn.reader, some size kink
includes: homelander, butcher, frenchie, black noir, hughie, solider boy, MM
Homelander - likes when you’re on top. Don’t get it wrong he still has control but, he likes watching how you pant and struggle to take him all. Besides he gets a nice view of your chest while he bounces you on his cock. Absolutely bucks up into you to see how you squeal and grip his shoulders. He also likes it because he doesn’t have to do much work, he’s a supe and works hard ya know?
Black Noir - ass man. Loves doggy style the most. Grips the fat of your ass while he just plows into you. Smoothes his hand on your hips to bring you down on him over and over. Lives to see how you flutter and clench around him. Will push your face into the sheets and leave bruises on your ass.
Butcher - reverse cowgirl all the way. Another ass man who likes to watch you take his cock. You just look so good this way, and he likes how you lean forward to grab at his thighs. Smokes while he fucks you, puffing out while he spreads you open so he can watch how you take him. Makes comments on how slutty you are.
MM - missionary. The classic choice but he loves it. Props himself on his elbows so he can watch your face while he pounds into you. He likes to tuck his face into your neck, nipping it and making you squirm from his beard on your skin. Sometimes gets so into it he’ll lift up your legs onto his shoulders to reach deeper.
Soldier boy - mating press?!? Mating press all the way. Folds you up and stuffs you full, can go for hours. Ben just pushes your legs up and gives you deep strokes that make you starry-eyed and and breathless. He gets so deep you push his chest and he just mocks you from above. Thanks to the V he’s got endless stamina and besides, he hasn’t been able to pump someone full in decades so good luck.
Frenchie - y’all already know this man likes to be dommed. He’s down for absolutely anything and everything. Doesn’t matter if you’re holding his wrists while you fuck yourself with his cock or if you’re fucking him. He practically loves every positions, but he does enjoy 69 a lot.
Hughie - sweet sweet boy likes when he’s tucked behind you. Its so nice because your thighs are clenched together and it’s makes you tighter. The fucks lazy and soft and he just tucks your underwear to the side so he can slip in. You’re clawing at the mattress while he just does slow thrusts. He’ll kiss the back of your neck while he holds you.
#the boys.✮#val.writes ❦#the boys smut#billy butcher smut#homelander smut#frenchie smut#hughie campbell smut#MM smut#black noir smut#solider boy smut#billy butcher x reader#homelander x reader#frenchie x reader#hughie x reader#black noir x reader#soldier boy x reader#mm x reader#the boys x reader
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