#Ben the boys

[jays-bonnie-on-the-side]

I need new Jensen content. I can’t keep watching the same videos/edits. I need more—please! 😭

[soldiergf]

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

was soldier boy the type of man to act on impulse? fuck yes. someone pisses him off in the slightest, he wouldn’t hesitate to throw a punch or two in that dick’s direction. but you were trying to get him to control himself, to be good, and while ben is the last person to take direction from someone else, he tried and listened because it was you asking.

you guys were at some stupid vought event that ben did not want to be at (especially when he could be at home shoving his cock down your throat) but he knew he had a suck it up and act normal for a couple of hours. at least you were there. and he tried, he really did.

but all that “behaving” shit went out the window the second he saw his girl talking to another man.

and that just simply would not do.

which is how you ended up stuffed in some tiny, uncomfortable storage closet with ben’s fat cock shoved deep in your tight pussy, thrusting hard and fast, his hands grabbing your hips so fucking tight that it’ll leave marks. your leg was tossed over his thigh, vibrations filling your body. fuck, he felt so good. “you think you can just talk to other guys like that and get away with it? you’re mine, babydoll, get that in your pretty little head right now.”

ben was a naturally possessive man. can’t blame a guy for being protective over his baby, can you? he just needed to make sure you knew who he belonged to, that’s all. it was nothing personal. in fact, you should be grateful he was feeling nice - he could’ve spanked you so hard you couldn’t walk for a week, but no, he’s just giving you a little bit of a rough fucking. you needed to learn your lesson.

his loud moans fill the room, loud and aggressive and needy as he presses his cock even harder into you, pre-cum dripping from his tip. he’s so fucking jealous, so mad you even considered looking at another guy. it didn’t really matter to him what your real intentions were, as far as he was concerned, you didn’t need the company of other men, you just needed him. you were his, simple as that, and you just needed a little reminder…

“so fucking good for me, princess, such a pretty pussy. gonna fill it up, fill you up with my come, baby. you like that, baby girl? you like being mine?”

you were so close, so fucking close, and his dirty words was making it worse, going straight to your core. his mouth attached itself to your neck, biting and sucking at the flesh, leaving you hissing and panting, hickeys blossoming on your nape. you pull his head up into a searing kiss as the both of you orgasmed hard and fast, your pussy full of both his and your come.

“there we go, baby.”  he smirks, looking up and down your body with pure lust in his eyes. “all fucking mine. don’t you forget it.”

[daylighted]

growing up is realizing we never learned soldier boy's last name in the show canon is because of what he says when quoting his father in the past, saying he "wasn't good enough to carry his name."

[lila-lou]

✨Fucking Brats - 1/3✨

Summary: You and Ben have two teenage daughters, and lately, they’ve been nothing short of awful. With Ben away on missions, you've been taking the heat. But when he finally steps back through that door and sees how they’ve been treating you? Hell breaks loose. Because no one—not even his own brats—messes with his girl.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: Language, ANGST

Word Count: 7305

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 💙

Fourteen years of being a mother, fourteen years of giving everything—your time, your patience, your love. Fourteen years of putting them first, sacrificing everything for them. And yet, here you were, standing in the middle of the wreckage of what used to be your kitchen, your hands shaking, your breath uneven, and your heart pounding with something dangerously close to pure, undiluted rage.

The fight had started over something small—something so insignificant you couldn’t even remember what it was now. But, like always, it had escalated.

Ava and Liv, your beautiful, powerful, stubborn twin daughters, had once again turned your home into a battlefield.

Liv stood on one side, chest heaving, her eyes burning with frustration, while Ava stood on the other, her hands clenched into fists. The tension between them was suffocating. You could see the crackle of their powers vibrating in the air, warping the space between them.

“Enough”, you said, your voice firm but tired. But they ignored you. Of course, they did.

“You’re such a bitch, Liv!”, Ava spat, her powers flaring around her fingertips. “No wonder Dad favors me over you”.

Liv let out a bitter laugh, the kind that made your stomach twist. “Oh, please. You’re delusional. Dad doesn’t favor either of us—he barely even gives a shit! But sure, keep telling yourself that while you ride his coattails like a pathetic little sidekick”.

Your head throbbed. “Enough”, you said again, louder this time, stepping between them.

Liv scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Stay out of it, Mom”.

Your pulse pounded in your ears.

The sound of shattering glass rang through the kitchen as sharp fragments rained down beside you, some skidding across the floor, others embedding themselves into the walls. Your breath caught in your throat. Liv hadn’t even hesitated.

You turned your head slowly, staring at the splintered remains of the glass that had been inches from your face. If you had moved just a second slower, it would have cut you. Maybe even blinded you. And she didn’t care.

Rage and heartbreak coiled inside you like a living thing, suffocating, burning. “You—”. The words died on your tongue as Ava lunged at her sister again, fists crackling with power. Liv met her head-on. The force of their clash sent a shockwave through the room, knocking chairs over, rattling the cabinets, and making the lights flicker. The air between them warped from the sheer energy radiating off their bodies. They were really going at it now—no longer just screaming at each other, but attacking, their hits meant to hurt.

You staggered back, your heart slamming against your ribs. This wasn’t just sibling rivalry anymore. They were out for blood.

“STOP IT!”. Your voice broke as you stepped forward, but neither of them even glanced your way. They were lost in their rage, their need to dominate, to win.

Ava caught Liv with a blast of energy, sending her skidding across the floor, crashing into the island. The impact cracked the wood, but Liv was already back on her feet, her lip curled, a red streak across her cheek from the fall. “You wish you were better than me”, she sneered, and with a flick of her wrist, the entire fridge ripped from its place, hurtling toward Ava. Ava dodged at the last second, the massive appliance slamming into the wall instead, leaving a gaping hole where it had once been. You let out a strangled sound, hands flying to your mouth.

This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t your home anymore. It was a warzone.

“Enough!”. You screamed, desperation lacing your voice as you tried again, but your words meant nothing. You were nothing in this moment—just a human caught in the crossfire of two beings who didn’t seem to care anymore. Tears burned in your eyes. You had spent everything—your youth, your dreams, your sanity—raising them, loving them, protecting them. And this was what was left.

A sob caught in your throat. Ben wasn’t here. He was never here when things got bad.

Ava’s hand was wrapped around Liv’s throat as she slammed her down onto the cold, cracked tile. The impact sent a deep tremor through the floor, rattling what little was left of your already-destroyed kitchen.

For a moment, there was only silence—harsh breathing, the hum of their residual energy still crackling in the air. And then, Ava turned her head. Her furious, glowing eyes locked onto yours, but the second she registered the tears streaming down your face, the way your hands trembled at your sides, something in her expression shifted. The fight drained out of her, like she was only just realizing you’d been there the entire time.

Her fingers loosened around her sister’s throat. “Mom…”, she breathed, like she didn’t know what to say. Like she wasn’t sure how to fix what she’d already shattered.

But Liv wasn’t done.

With a sharp cough, she shoved Ava off her, rolling onto her side as she propped herself up on her elbow. A deep, ugly bruise was already forming along her collarbone, but instead of anger, all she had for you was disdain.

A smirk curled at the corner of her split lip, and she let out a breathless, humorless laugh. “God, you’re so fucking weak”, she spat, shaking her head. “It’s pathetic”.

The words hit you harder than any attack she could’ve thrown. Weak. Pathetic. From your own daughter’s mouth. You swallowed hard, every inch of your body shaking with the effort of holding yourself together. She wasn’t just saying it to hurt you—she meant it. She meant every single word. You could see it in her face, in the way she looked at you, like you were nothing. Something inside you shattered.

Fourteen years. Fourteen years of late nights, of scraped knees and lullabies, of holding them when they were sick, of staying up with them when they had nightmares. Of fighting for them. Of loving them with every part of your soul. And yet here you were. Nothing but a weak, pathetic human to them.

You pressed your lips together, forcing down the lump in your throat. Without another word, you turned on your heel and walked out of the kitchen. Not because you were backing down, but because, for the first time, you didn’t have anything left to give.

Your hands were shaking as you snatched your car keys off the counter, barely able to breathe through the overwhelming wave of exhaustion and heartbreak crushing your chest. You couldn’t do this anymore—not right now. Let them burn the house down for all you cared. Let them fight until there was nothing left. You just needed to go.

With your pulse pounding in your ears, you stormed through the front door and onto the porch, the cool evening air hitting your tear-streaked face like a slap. You didn’t even know where you were going—maybe you’d just drive until the exhaustion swallowed you whole.

But the second your foot hit the driveway, you stopped dead.

Ben stood there.

His broad frame was backlit by the headlights of an idling SUV, his uniform torn and caked in blood and dirt. His knuckles were still bruised, his jaw clenched, his hair a mess of sweat and filth. He looked like he’d just crawled his way out of hell.

He wasn’t supposed to be back for another week. And yet, here he was. And you couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak.

His tired green eyes flicked over you, taking in your red-rimmed eyes, your trembling fingers clutching the car keys so tightly your knuckles were white. His gaze snapped up to the house behind you, where the faint sounds of destruction and arguing still echoed from inside.

And just like that, his expression darkened.

“The fuck is going on?”. His voice was low, gruff, edged with exhaustion but laced with something far more dangerous.

"Nothing", you mumbled, heading further towards the car.

Ben moved before you could, a firm, gloved hand wrapping around your wrist before you could make it to the car. His grip wasn’t tight—not enough to hurt—but enough to stop you dead in your tracks. “The fuck it’s nothing”, he muttered, voice rough, edged with something unreadable.

You swallowed hard, still facing away from him. You didn’t have it in you to fight him, not after everything. Not when you were already holding yourself together by a thread. “Ben”, you whispered, voice hoarse. “Please. Just let me go”.

His grip tightened just slightly, a breath passing through his nose, controlled, measured. “Not happening”.

You squeezed your eyes shut, another wave of exhaustion crashing over you. You didn’t want to do this. Not now. Not with him. But Ben had never been one to just let you go.

You felt it before you saw it. The heat of his body as he stepped closer, his presence grounding, suffocating in the way it always was. It wasn’t just his strength keeping you in place, it was him. He had always been the immovable force in your life, the one thing that had anchored you in ways you weren’t sure he even understood. Especially after the pregnancy, when you had almost died.

Carrying half-supe twins had taken everything out of you, and he had been there through all of it. Through the hospital visits, through the months of uncertainty, through the moment you nearly bled out on that table.

For a man who barely let himself care about anything, he had never quite recovered from the fear of losing you.

And now, standing here, with you trying to walk away from him? Not a fucking chance.

Ben exhaled sharply, his free hand coming up to brush against your shoulder, an almost hesitant touch. “Talk to me, baby”, he said, quieter this time. “What the hell happened?”.

Your throat tightened, and for a moment, you couldn’t speak. You just stood there, feeling the weight of it all pressing down on you. “I can’t do this anymore”, you finally choked out. “They don’t listen to me. They don’t care. They don’t—”. Your voice broke, and you sucked in a sharp breath, willing yourself not to completely fall apart in the driveway.

Ben went rigid behind you. “What did they do?”, he asked, and his voice had changed. Dangerous. Low.

You shook your head, because you weren’t sure you could even say it out loud. But Ben wasn’t stupid. His hand slowly trailed down your arm, down to where your fingers were still trembling, and something in his expression darkened even more.

Then, without another word, he let go of you and turned on his heel, striding straight toward the house.

“Ben”, you called after him, alarm creeping into your voice. But he didn’t stop. Didn’t even hesitate.

You hurried after him, your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You knew what Ben was like when he was mad, when he was really mad. And right now, the storm raging off of him was something terrifying.

"Ben, wait—". Your voice was hoarse, but he didn’t stop.

The second he stepped into the kitchen, his whole body went stiff. You saw it happen. The way his fists clenched at his sides, the way his shoulders tensed, the way his breathing slowed, controlled but lethal. And then, you saw his eyes. They flickered over the wreckage. Shattered glass, cracked countertops, the gaping hole where the fridge had once been. Over Ava and Liv, who were still breathing hard, still radiating energy, both of them bruised and scratched from their fight.

And when his gaze finally landed on you, on your tear-streaked face, your trembling frame, the way you were still struggling to breathe, his entire expression darkened into something lethal.

Neither of your daughters had noticed him yet, too caught up in their own battle. Liv was still smirking like she had won something, like she hadn’t just shattered every ounce of patience you had left. “You gonna cry again, Mom?”, she sneered. “Man, you’re pathetic”.

Before you could even react, before the words could even settle in your chest, Ben moved. He was on her in an instant. Liv barely had time to register the shift before his large hand was gripping the back of her neck, forcing her forward, slamming her against the already-damaged kitchen island. The wood cracked under the impact, a sharp gasp leaving her lips as he pinned her there. Ava immediately froze. You sucked in a breath, still sobbing, still terrified of how quickly this was escalating.

But Ben? Ben wasn’t even fucking done yet. His voice was low when he finally spoke, and it was calm. Too calm. “Say that again”.

Liv let out a short, breathless laugh, her cheek still pressed against the splintered countertop. “What—”.

He tightened his grip. She gasped again, fingers twitching against the wood. “Dad—”.

“You think you can talk to her like that?”, he murmured, still eerily calm. Too calm. “Think you can disrespect her? Make her cry?”. He leaned in just slightly, lowering his head beside hers, and his next words sent a shiver down your spine. “After everything she’s fucking done for you?”.

For the first time since this fight started, you saw it. Fear. Liv might have been half-supe, but she wasn’t Ben. And right now, Ben wasn’t the father who had held her as a baby, who had carried her on his shoulders as a child, who had let her get away with things he never should have. Right now, he was a soldier. And he was pissed.

Liv swallowed hard, struggling slightly under his grip, but Ben didn’t let her go. Instead, he turned his head slightly, flicking his gaze over to Ava, who stood frozen, wide-eyed, chest still heaving. “You too”, he muttered, his voice like steel. “You think this shit is okay? You think tearing each other apart, tearing this house apart, disrespecting your mother is okay?”.

Neither of them said a word and that only pissed him off more. “I asked you a fucking question!”. Ava flinched. Liv clenched her jaw, but she didn’t dare say anything this time.

Your breath was still shaky, your fingers gripping the doorway, unsure if you should interfere. But you knew Ben. You knew he would never really hurt them. And more than that—you knew they deserved this. They needed to understand.

After a long, heavy silence, Ben finally exhaled through his nose, slowly, controlled. Then, he released Liv, letting her stumble back slightly as he stood up to his full height. The room was suffocating with tension, and for a long moment, no one said anything. Then, Ben finally turned to you. His face softened, just slightly, as he took in your tear-streaked face again, the exhaustion still carved into every inch of you.

And when he spoke again, it wasn’t for them. It was for you. “Go upstairs, baby”. His voice was still rough, still edged with leftover anger, but it was softer now. Gentle. “I’ll handle this”.

Your chest tightened. You weren’t sure if you should stay, if you should make sure things didn’t get worse. But one look at his face, at the way his entire body radiated barely-contained fury, and you knew, he wasn’t asking. He was telling you.

So, with one last shaky breath, you nodded, wiped at your face, and turned toward the stairs. And as you walked away, the last thing you heard was Ben’s voice, darker than you’d ever heard it before. “You two have no fucking idea what you just did”.

You climbed the stairs, still shaking, still raw, but you didn’t make it far before Ben’s voice erupted behind you, low and dangerous at first, but quickly rising into a full-on roar.

“The fuck is wrong with you two?”.

You froze just at the top of the stairs, gripping the railing, listening.

“I leave for a few months, and you think you can act like this? Think you can fucking destroy this house, disrespect your mother, like you’re a couple of fucking animals?”.

Neither of them answered. Of course, they didn’t. But that only made it worse. Ben scoffed, pacing. You could hear his boots scuffing against the shattered glass, crunching debris underfoot. “Do you have any idea what she’s been through? What the fuck she sacrificed for you?”. His voice was like a growl now, cutting through the dead silence of the house like a blade. “Fourteen fucking years. Fourteen years of putting you first. Of giving up everything she ever fucking wanted to make sure you had a goddamn life. And this is how you repay her?”.

“It’s not our fault she’s—”. Liv didn’t even get the words out before something slammed. Not a hit. Not violence. Just the sharp, sudden crack of Ben’s fist colliding with the already-damaged countertop, making the entire room shake.

You winced. Oh, they fucked up.

“You finish that fucking sentence”, Ben growled, “and see what happens”.

Silence.

“I fucking dare you!”.

Neither of them moved, while you barely even breathed.

Then, after a long, heavy pause, Ben inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly, like he was forcing himself to regain control. When he spoke again, his voice was steadier, but no less dangerous. “You’re gonna fix this”, he ordered. “Now”.

Still, neither of them moved.

Ben let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Oh, you don’t wanna?”, he mocked. “You don’t feel like it?”.

More silence. Wrong answer.

“Clean it the fuck up!”, he roared. “Now!”.

Ava moved first. Slowly, hesitantly, she stepped toward the mess, toward the shattered glass, the broken wood, the overturned chairs. Liv hesitated a second longer, but when Ben took one slow step toward her, she flinched and quickly followed her sister’s lead. “Fix the fucking counter while you’re at it”, Ben snapped. “And the fridge. And anything else you two decided to rip apart like a couple of fucking animals”.

You heard them shift, heard them muttering under their breath as they reluctantly did what they were told. But it wasn’t enough for Ben. “You don’t mutter”, he growled. “You don’t fucking complain. You do it, and you do it right, because if I so much as see one goddamn scratch left behind when you’re done—”. He didn’t even finish the sentence. Didn’t have to.

Another silence.

Then, finally, a small, trembling “Yes, sir”, from Ava. Liv didn’t say anything at first, but when Ben turned his gaze toward her, sharp as a blade, she swallowed hard and muttered, “Yes, sir”.

You exhaled shakily from your place at the top of the stairs, pressing a hand to your chest, your heartbeat still unsteady. Ben wasn’t done with them yet. Not by a long shot. But for now, for the first time in months, you finally felt like someone was on your side.

Ben’s voice was still sharp, still cutting through the silence like a blade. “I don’t fucking care how you do it. I don’t care if you have to use your goddamn powers, glue it together, or call a goddamn contractor. This kitchen better look exactly the way it did before by tomorrow”.

Neither Ava nor Liv spoke. They just nodded, their movements tense, their energy subdued for the first time in months.

Ben scoffed, shaking his head. “None of you get to fucking sleep until it’s done”. His voice was lower now, gritted between his teeth. “You don’t get to wreck shit, disrespect your mother, and then go to bed like nothing happened”.

Ava swallowed hard, her head hanging slightly. Even Liv, who had spent the entire evening testing every last limit, finally had the sense to shut the fuck up. Ben muttered a few more curses under his breath, something about how they were out of their goddamn minds, before finally turning on his heel and walking out of the kitchen.

And then, his eyes landed on you. Still standing there, your arms wrapped around yourself, your face still wet with the evidence of the tears you had tried to hold back. For a moment, he didn’t say anything. He just looked at you.

Then, without hesitation, his large hands settled on your waist, pulling you toward him, and before you could process it, he was already walking, guiding you down the hallway, up the stairs, not even giving you the chance to resist. “Ben—”. You sniffed, your voice still wobbly. “I need to—”.

“You don’t need to do shit”, he muttered.

You didn’t argue. You didn’t have it in you to.

His grip was firm, steady, his calloused fingers pressing against your hip as he pushed open the bathroom door. Without missing a beat, he reached over, turning on the shower, the sound of rushing water filling the space. You barely had time to blink before he was already undoing his bloodied, dirt-covered uniform, his fingers moving fast, practiced. And then his eyes were on you again. Unyielding. Soft, but still burning with something you couldn’t name.

“C’mere”, he murmured, his voice quieter now. He didn’t give you the chance to hesitate. Didn’t let you overthink. His fingers were already working at your clothes, peeling the day off of you, piece by piece, until there was nothing left between you. Until all that was left was warmth, his arms, the steam curling around you both.

He didn’t stop moving until the water was cascading over both of you, until his hands were running slow, careful circles along your back, down your spine, grounding you. You let out a shaky breath, pressing your forehead against his chest, your body finally letting go of all the tension you had been holding in.

Ben exhaled sharply, his chin resting against the top of your head. “I got you”, he muttered, his voice lower, rougher. He squeezed your waist just slightly, just enough to remind you that you weren’t alone. “I got you, baby”.

The second Ben pulled you closer, the warmth of his body soaking into yours, something inside you snapped. You had held it together for so long… too long. But now, standing here, in his arms, with the water running down your back and his firm grip steadying you, you couldn’t hold it in anymore. A broken sob tore out of your throat, and you collapsed against him. Your fingers clutched at his shoulders, your face burying itself into his chest as the weight of the last two and a half months finally crushed you all at once.

Ben stiffened slightly at first, but only for a second. Then, his grip tightened, his arms wrapping fully around you, holding you so damn tight it was like he was trying to pull every ounce of pain straight out of your body. "Shit", he muttered, voice gruff, but gentle. One of his hands found the back of your head, fingers threading through your wet hair as his lips pressed a slow, grounding kiss against your temple. “I’m here, baby”.

You shook your head, the tears coming harder now, your entire body trembling against him. "I—I can't—".

"Yeah, you can". His voice was steady, like a rock against the storm raging inside you. "You already have".

You clenched your eyes shut. He didn't understand. Not yet.

Your hormones were everywhere, your body betraying you, the stress of the past few weeks mixing with the overwhelming knowledge that you were pregnant again.

Two weeks ago, you had found out, alone in that same bathroom, staring at a stupid little plastic stick while your daughters tore through the house downstairs. Two weeks of carrying that secret, of trying to navigate every emotion that came with it, of trying to figure out how you would even tell him.

And now, with his arms around you, his voice in your ear, his body grounding you after so long apart, you couldn’t stop crying.

Ben let out a sharp breath, his hand trailing down your back, pressing firmly between your shoulder blades, his other arm still wound securely around your waist. "You're okay", he muttered, his lips brushing against your forehead. "You're okay, baby, I got you".

You clutched at him even tighter. His muscles tensed slightly under your grip, but he didn't move, didn’t let go, just let you cry. Let you fall apart. His grip was firm, steady, unshakable, just like he always was.

It was a long while before your sobs started to quiet, before your breathing evened out just enough for you to lift your head, your tear-streaked face pressed against his chest.

Ben sighed, running a rough hand over his face, shaking his head like he was still trying to process everything. “Those little shits”, he muttered, his voice gruff. “I swear, grounded till they’re eighteen”.

You let out a breathy, wet laugh, barely able to believe the words that just came out of his mouth. But he wasn’t kidding, he looked dead serious. Ben scoffed, shaking his head again, muttering more to himself now than to you. “No, fuck that. Grounded till they’re twenty-one. No powers. No leaving the house. They can sit in their goddamn rooms and think about what they’ve done”.

Your lips twitched, exhaustion still weighing down on you, but for the first time in hours, you actually smiled.

Ben trying to be a dad and not a soldier was always ridiculous. He was terrible at it. “You can’t ground them till they’re twenty-one”, you murmured, voice hoarse from all the crying.

“The fuck I can’t”, he shot back immediately.

You let out another weak, breathy laugh, leaning your forehead against his chest. “That’s not how parenting works”.

Ben huffed, still glaring like he was ready to walk downstairs and yell at them all over again. “The fuck do I know about parenting?”. He gestured vaguely toward the door. “They’re terrorists”.

You let out a real laugh at that, shaking your head, wiping at your face as your body finally started to calm down.

Ben exhaled, watching you for a long moment, eyes scanning over your face, lingering on the fresh tear tracks still marking your skin. Then, finally, he softened. One of his hands came up, tilting your chin so you’d look at him, his thumb brushing slow, steady circles against your cheek. “I mean it”, he murmured, his voice lower now, rough but real. “They don’t get to treat you like that”.

You swallowed hard, your throat still raw.

“They don’t get to disrespect you like that”, he continued, voice firm. “Not while I’m here. Not while I’m alive”.

Your chest tightened, your fingers curling against his damp skin. "They don’t take me seriously since I’m just human. No powers. No supe" You had never said it out loud before, but you had felt it.

For years, you had felt it creeping in, that slow, painful realization that your daughters were outgrowing not just their childhoods, but you. That as their powers grew stronger, your place in their world became smaller, less significant. You had given up everything for them, your youth, your dreams, your future. You had poured everything into being a mother, into loving them. And for what? For them to look down on you?

You sniffed, your fingers clenching slightly against Ben’s chest, voice small, breaking. "I miss the days when they were little".

Ben exhaled sharply, his hand still cradling your face, his thumb brushing away the new tears slipping down your cheeks.

"They were so excited to see me back then", you whispered, voice wobbly. "So happy when I picked them up after daycare at the Tower. They’d come running, their little arms up, like I was the most important person in the world". Your throat tightened. "They loved me back then", you choked out, your voice cracking on the last word.

Ben stilled. His jaw clenched so hard you thought it might break. And then, before you could spiral further, before the weight of it all crushed you completely, Ben moved. He cupped your face fully in both of his large, calloused hands, forcing you to look at him. His eyes, those sharp, deep green eyes, locked onto yours, holding you there. "You listen to me", he said, voice rough, steady. "They still love you".

You shook your head, another tear slipping down your cheek. "No, they—".

"Yes, they fucking do". His grip tightened just slightly, his forehead coming to rest against yours, grounding you, keeping you from slipping away into that dark place. "They’re little shits right now, yeah. And they don’t deserve you. But they love you".

Your breath was shaky, your heart pounding against your ribs.

"They just don’t fucking get it yet", Ben muttered, voice lower now, almost more to himself than you. "They don’t understand what you’ve done for them. What you’ve given up. But one day? One day they will".

You swallowed hard, your lips trembling, your vision still blurry from fresh tears.

"And by then", Ben murmured, his voice gritted, his fingers brushing over your cheek, "they’re gonna fucking regret ever making you feel like this".

Your breath hitched, and another tear slipped free. Ben caught it with his thumb, his lips brushing against your temple, against your wet skin.

"You’re the best fucking mom in the world", he muttered, his voice unshakable. "And they don’t deserve you".

You let out a broken little breath, your fingers gripping at his arms, holding onto him like he was the only thing keeping you standing.

Ben helped you out of the shower, his hands steady, warm, gentle in a way that only you ever got to see. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around your shoulders before reaching for the robe hanging on the hook. Without a word, he slipped it over you, his fingers brushing against your arms as he tied the fabric snugly around your waist.

His own towel hung low on his hips as he led you toward the bedroom, his hand resting firm on the small of your back. You were exhausted, your body heavy, your emotions drained, but at least now, wrapped in the warmth of Ben’s presence, you didn’t feel like you were falling apart.

As you walked down the hallway, voices from downstairs caught both your attention. Liv and Ava. Still snapping at each other, their hushed, angry tones barely carrying past the kitchen, but not quiet enough to escape Ben’s ears. Not quiet enough to escape yours, either.

"Just shut up and do it", Ava muttered, her voice sharp.

"You shut up", Liv hissed back. "This was your fucking fault!".

"My fault?", Ava scoffed, and you could practically hear the eye roll in her voice. "You threw the first fucking punch!".

"And you threw me through the goddamn counter!".

"Well, maybe if you weren’t such a—".

The moment Ben stopped walking, you knew shit was about to go down. His body tensed beside you, his jaw tightening, his expression darkening all over again. They were trying to be quiet. Trying to keep it low enough so that he wouldn’t hear. But of course, he did. Of course, you did too.

Ben exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head. "These fucking brats", he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

You let out a small, tired sigh. "They’re not gonna stop, are they?".

Ben scoffed, rolling his shoulders like he was physically forcing himself to stay upstairs instead of marching down there and ripping them a new one. "Not until one of ‘em is in a goddamn coma".

You swallowed, rubbing your temple, the weight of everything settling in your chest again.And Ben caught it immediately. His frustration didn’t leave, but he shifted, just slightly, his hand coming back to rest on your hip, grounding you.

"You wanna go down there?", he asked, voice lower now, steadier. "Or you want me to?".

You hesitated. For weeks, you had been the only one handling this. The only one trying to parent them, to keep them from killing each other, to keep them from destroying everything around them. For weeks, you had been at your wits’ end. And now, Ben was finally here. Finally handling it with you.

You exhaled slowly, pressing your fingers against your temple again. "You", you murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "You handle it".

Ben didn’t hesitate. "Yeah", he muttered, his grip on your waist tightening for a brief second before he pulled away. "That’s what I thought".

Ben led you into the bedroom first, his touch still firm, still grounding. He pulled out a pair of sweatpants from the dresser, slipping them on before running a rough hand through his damp hair. His eyes flickered back to you once, scanning over your still-exhausted face, the weight of everything still sitting heavy on your shoulders. “Lay down”, he muttered, voice softer now.

You hesitated, your fingers curling slightly into the robe, but before you could argue, he was already shaking his head. “Not asking”, he said, giving you a pointed look. “Lay down. Get some rest. I’ll deal with them”.

You exhaled slowly, finally relenting as you sank onto the bed, letting the exhaustion pull at your limbs. Ben hesitated for a moment, watching you as if to make sure you were really going to listen before he turned and made his way toward the door. And then, with one last roll of his shoulders, he stormed downstairs.

The second his footsteps hit the floor, the arguing stopped. Liv and Ava froze. Both of them stood in the middle of the half-cleaned kitchen, still covered in leftover destruction, their bodies stiffening the moment they realized he was there. Ben’s gaze was sharp, scanning the mess they still hadn’t properly dealt with, then landing on the two of them, standing there like a couple of guilty little criminals.

Liv was the first to break, grimacing dramatically as she threw a hand over her face, turning away from him.“Ew, Dad! Pull on a shirt!”. Ava, standing beside her, made a similar sound of disgust, covering her own eyes like she was witnessing something horrific.

Ben stopped in his tracks, looking down at himself, at the way his bare chest was still on full display, before letting out an incredulous laugh. “You two little assholes have the nerve to destroy my kitchen, act like a couple of feral fucking animals, and this—”. He gestured vaguely to himself. “This is where you draw the goddamn line?”.

Liv groaned. “It’s just wrong”, she muttered, still shielding her eyes. Ava nodded in agreement. “Seriously. There are boundaries, Dad".

Ben let out a sharp, humorless scoff, crossing his arms over his chest. “You think this is bad?”, he asked. “Try seeing your mother standing in the driveway ready to fucking leave because of the two of you”. That shut them up.

Liv’s fingers twitched slightly against her face, while Ava shifted on her feet, her shoulders stiffening just a bit more.

Ben’s smirk dropped immediately. “Yeah”, he said, voice dropping into something low. “Not so fucking funny now, huh?”.

Neither of them spoke.

Ben took another step forward, his presence heavy, the sheer disappointment rolling off of him in waves. “Sit”, he ordered.

Neither of them moved.

“Now!”.

Liv dropped into the nearest chair first. Ava followed a second later, both of them stiff, tense, like they knew this was about to be bad.

Ben inhaled deeply, exhaled through his nose, his fingers pressing into his temples like he was trying to physically keep himself from throwing them both out of a window. Then, finally, he spoke. “Let me tell you something about your mother”, he muttered, voice like steel. “That woman is the best goddamn thing that ever happened to you. You know how I know that?”.

Neither of them answered. But Ben didn’t give a shit.

“Because you wouldn’t even fucking exist without her”.

Ava shifted uncomfortably.

Ben scoffed. “Oh, what? You don’t like hearing it? You don’t like knowing that she almost died to bring you into this world? That she put her whole goddamn life on hold to raise you? That she’s spent fourteen fucking years doing nothing but giving a shit about you two?”.

Liv swallowed hard.

Ben leaned forward slightly, his hands braced against the back of a chair, his sharp green eyes burning straight through them. “And this—”. He gestured to the destruction around them. “This is how you repay her?”.

Neither of them spoke.

Ben exhaled sharply, his jaw tightening as he ran a hand down his face, barely containing the frustration burning beneath his skin. His voice came out low, lethal. “I didn’t raise you like that!”.

Liv scoffed under her breath. It was quiet, almost too quiet, but Ben caught it. And then she muttered, “You barely raised us at all”.

Silence. The kind of silence that made the air in the room heavy, suffocating.

Ava’s eyes widened slightly, her body stiffening. Even Liv, who had never backed down from a fight, looked like she was regretting saying it the second the words left her mouth.

Ben slowly turned his head, his expression blank, unreadable, but his eyes? His eyes were sharp, cutting straight through her like a blade. “What the fuck did you just say?”. His voice wasn’t raised, wasn’t angry, it was calm. Too calm.

Liv swallowed but lifted her chin anyway, forcing herself to meet his gaze. “You’re never here”, she muttered, her voice quieter now, but still defiant. “You come and go whenever the fuck you want. Mom’s the one who’s always been here”.

Ben inhaled deeply through his nose, rolling his tongue over his teeth, his fingers flexing against the back of the chair like he was physically stopping himself from putting a hole through the wall. “Yeah?”, he muttered, voice dangerously low. “And why the fuck do you think that is?”.

Liv didn’t answer.

“You think I wanna be gone?”. His voice sharpened, cutting through the thick silence like a knife. “You think I choose to be halfway across the goddamn world instead of here?”.

Ben let out a sharp, humorless laugh, running a hand through his hair, his patience hanging by a goddamn thread. “You think I wanna spend my fucking life hunting down out-of-control supes?”, he snapped. “Supes who think they’re better than everyone? Who think the rules don’t fucking apply to them?”. His eyes burned into hers. “Supes like you?”.

Liv flinched. Ava inhaled sharply beside her but stayed silent.

Ben scoffed again, rolling his shoulders like he was trying to physically shake off the anger rolling through him. “You wanna know why I’m not around?”, he muttered. “Because every goddamn day, I’m cleaning up the messes people like you make”.

Liv’s hands clenched into fists. Ben caught it. “Go ahead”, he said, tilting his head slightly. “Clench your fucking fists. Get mad. But you know what? That anger? That arrogance?”. His voice darkened. “That’s the same shit I see in every single supe I have to put down”.

The room was thick with tension. Liv’s face hardened, her jaw clenching so tight it looked painful.

“You think you’re so powerful”, Ben muttered, shaking his head, “so above everything, but let me tell you something—”. His voice was low, steady, like a goddamn threat. “You’re not fucking invincible, kid".

Ava swallowed hard, her eyes flickering between Liv and Ben, caught between wanting to say something and knowing better. Liv’s nostrils flared. “So what? You’re saying you’d kill us?”.

Ben felt the words like a punch to the gut. His jaw twitched, his breath coming in heavier as he really looked at Liv, looked at the way she sat in front of him, shoulders squared, fists clenched, actually believing he would ever hurt her. His own fucking daughter. The little girl who used to sit on his shoulders, who used to grip his fingers so tight with her tiny hands, who used to curl up in his arms when she had nightmares.

And now she was sitting there, fists raised, thinking, even for a second, that he could ever kill her.

His heart fucking broke. His expression didn’t soften, but something behind his eyes shifted. “Jesus”, he muttered, exhaling roughly, shaking his head. “You think I would ever hurt you?”.

Liv didn’t answer.

Ben scoffed, rubbing a hand down his face, suddenly feeling a whole different kind of exhaustion settle over him. “I sure as hell don’t kill my own kids”, he muttered, his voice lower now, not as sharp.

Ava swallowed beside her, her gaze flickering between them, and Liv, despite the stubborn set of her jaw, looked like she was faltering. But Ben wasn’t done. “You and your sister, you’re half me”, he muttered, voice rough. “You got my blood in your veins, my fucking strength, my temper”. He exhaled sharply. “But you also got your mother’s heart. And that’s the only reason I haven’t put my foot so far up your ass you’d be coughing up my fucking boot”.

Ava let out a small, breathy sound that almost sounded like a laugh, but she quickly smothered it. Liv’s hands slowly unfurled, her expression shifting from anger to something else. Something almost like regret.

Ben shook his head again, running a hand through his hair. “You think I’d kill you?”, he muttered. “Kid, I’d burn the fucking world to keep you safe”.

Liv sucked in a sharp breath. Ava glanced away, like she suddenly felt bad for even being here to witness this.

Ben inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly, shaking his head one last time before straightening up. “Fix the goddamn kitchen”, he muttered, his voice rough, but no longer angry. Just tired. Then, without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving them both sitting in thick, suffocating silence.

The second he stepped into the bedroom, his eyes landed on you. Still curled up on the bed, watching him, waiting for him. And just like that, all the exhaustion, all the frustration, all the fucking heartbreak melted into something else. Something softer.

Without hesitation, Ben walked over, pulled back the blankets, and climbed into bed beside you. His strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his chest, his lips brushing against your forehead. “You okay?”, you whispered, your voice still hoarse.

Ben exhaled slowly, his grip tightening around you. “Yeah”, he muttered. “I just needed to remind ‘em”.

“Of what?”.

He buried his face in your hair, inhaling deeply, his voice rough but honest when he said. “That they’re still my little girls”.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

-

Part 2

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Taglist: @blackcherrywhiskey @baby19sthings @suckitands33 @spnfamily-j2 @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma @reignsboy19 @kawaii-arfid-memes @mekkencspony @lovziy @artemys-ackles @fitxgrld @libby99hb @lovelyvirtualperson @a-lil-pr1ncess @nancymcl @the-last-ry @spndeanwinchesterlvr @hobby27 @themarebarroww @kr804573 @impala67rollingthroughtown @deans-queen @deadlymistletoe @selfdestructionandrhum @utyblyn @winchesterwild78 @jackles010378 @chirazsstuff @foxyjwls007 @smoothdogsgirl @woooonau @whimsyfinny @freyabear @laaadygisbooornex3 @quietgirll75 @perpetualabsurdity @pughsexual @berryblues46 @deanwinchestersgirl8734 @kr804573 @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @barnes70stark @roseblue373 @shanimallina87 @ascarriel @deanwinchesters67impala @thebiggerbear @quietgirll75 @barnes70stark @kellyls04 @spxideyver @ralilda @americanvenom13 @ozwriterchick @lmg14

[girlblogging24]

Why is Soldier Boy more passionate than we think? ₊˚⊹♡

1. The scene with the ladies is not that of a purely aggressive man in bed.

✦ People make jokes about being a "granny fucker," but if you think about it, Soldier Boy wasn't just blowing off steam with them, he seemed to be enjoying the moment.

✦ Butcher hints that he's been with them for a while, implying that he's not a guy who finishes quickly and leaves, but really takes his time.

✦ His comment about the old wine shows that he doesn't just see women as objects, but appreciates a certain experience and confidence in them.

2. His masculinity is not that of an ordinary fuckboy.

✦ He is not Homelander, who only seeks to satisfy his own ego. Soldier Boy is a guy who needs dominance and control, but also validation.

✦ For someone who was raised in a militaristic, macho environment, sex is a form of connection, though he would never admit it.

✦ While he is territorial and brusque, he also likes to be admired, desired, and to feel that his partner really wants him.

3. His strength is a real limitation, so he has to control his impulses.

✦ He is an extremely powerful Supe. If he were completely wild, he would break any human partner.

✦ This means he has to restrain himself, be aware of his strength, and take care of his partner without appearing to be "treating her gently."

✦ That mix of roughness with self-control makes his style intense but with a level of respect and care for his partner.

₊˚⊹♡

Soldier Boy is the typical man who acts like an emotionless bastard, but in reality he is a passionate, protective and possessive lover. He's not a romantic with pretty words, but his love is felt in the details: how he holds you, how he protects you, how he makes you feel wanted without it being just a power play.

So yes: tough on the street, but a passionate lover in bed (with enough self-control not to break you in two).

₊˚⊹♡

[mahi-wayy]

Double Down

!!..Chaos Twins..!!

ambiverts. sports. popular jackassess guys. smokers. drinkers. absent mother. deceased father. from legend family of town. fist fights. cocky. charming. arrogant. alluring.

BEN HANNIGER

older twin. dark green. football star. hard worker. gym rat. anti social. arrogance. care taker. the authority. ruler setter. weed. cigarette. whiskey. brandy. loud music. sketches. business major. bloody knuckles. hoodies. ripped pants. heavy boots. sliver rings.

ben was the one who took charge when their mother walked out on them for a "break" after their father died at the hands of a serial killer in town. he doesn't really miss the man all that much. started working around 18 so he and dean can stop jumping foster homes and go back to their home.

he has a loud booming voice often heard by neighbors as the "louder one" when him and dean argue about something. once in a while he receives calls/texts from their mother, he sees them but doesn't respond.

DEAN HANNIGER

younger twin. dark red. basketball captain. aces classes. party animal. popular guy. reckless. charming. the rebel. ruler breaker. weed. cigarette. tequila. beer. loud music. books. law major. busted lips. compression shirt. denim jeans. sneakers. amulet. bracelets.

dean grew up under his older twin after their mother walked out. mostly his resentment comes out as rage towards the woman. he misses his father a lot. he tried to help ben by picking up jobs too but it always ended with a fight with the older twin.

his voice often comes out raspier when he yells, lower than ben's volume but he speaks to cut when he's angry. he has his mother blocked and would rather not talk to her.

WHAT HAPPENED...!?

when both of them get dragged in a trip last summer of college around the "murder woods" things derail. FAST.

EVENT ENTRY...!!

¹the last summer

tags : @bluemerakis @deansbeer @daylighted @soldiersgirl @h8aaz @titsout4jackles @bejeweledinterludes @littlesoulshine @mostlymarvelgirl @jmoonk @yawnzshit @bruisedfig @pieandflannel know if I forgot you or you want to be added or removed!!tags :

dividers by : @cafekitsune

[supercap2319]

Solider boy bragging to the others about taking male reader’s virginity and huge bubble butt😂

"So, Soldier Boy, the world wants to know is it true? Did you personally take the virginity of rising hero, Tesseract?" The interview asked. There was a rally for Soldier Boy. Anyone who was anyone would be attending. Fans. Haters. Influencers. You name it, they were there.

Soldier Boy smiled a charming confidence smile at the interview. "Well, Nance, you see I sort of took Tesseract underneath my wing. The kid was uncharted territory. A chaste boy. A new boy. Celibate. Whatever fucking word tickles your pickle. The kid was one hundred percent virgin."

"Oh? And what made you think that you had the right to take his virtue?"

"Well, for one, he has a nice ass. It's all big and bubbly. Like a pornstar babe." Soldier Boy said. "But I only popped his cherry because the kid needed to experience getting laid. He needed to feel what a real man's cock felt like and I was the only one to do it. Tell me, Nancy, who would be a better teacher than me?"

"Well, you certainly are charming, aren't you? You heard it here first, folks. Soldier Boy has officially claimed Tesseract's virginity as his own.

Meanwhile, across the city, Y/N had his mouth open as he saw the newscast. He threw his cereal bowl at the wall as the TV had a good view of Soldier Boy's confident smile for the camera. "Son of a bitch!!!"

[sleepywdean]

(angst, mentions of toxic relationship, violence and cheating. mentions of drugs and alcohol.)

from the moment you first laid eyes on him, you knew ben was the type of man who would break your heart.

you don’t know why you keep going back to him, you're drawn to the hollow pull of his need. a moth to a flame, a magnet. knowing he wants you—even if only on some carnal level—makes you feel something. you know his love for drugs and alcohol will always be stronger than the one he feels for you, if he even is in love with you. with soldier boy, nothing is certain, nothing but silence and distance.

never letting you in, always leaving you wondering.

you know you can’t fix him, can’t make him better and maybe that’s what brings the red cross nurse out of you—such a cliché, the soldier and the nurse—you try. for him, you try. you’d do anything for him, without even asking. every time he comes back smelling like another woman's perfume, your heart drops, but you can't do anything but welcome him back like you've been waiting your whole life for him. every time you find a lipstick stain on his clothes that doesn't match your shade, you're reminded that for ben, you're probably just one of many.

on more nights than you'd like to admit, you find yourself sobbing softly on the floor in front of the washing machine, holding tight in your hands ben's incriminated clothes. most of the times he pretends not to hear.

cold heart, cold hands and cold attitude, ben has all of the above. 

ben's addictions, a heavy fog you cannot lift, break you down silently. it’s all there is for him: sex, pills, fighting, alcohol, late night TV and killing.

thanks to butcher, you find ways to keep him under control so his violent and sudden outbursts won't eventually lead you to madness, but you know the boys pity you. if they just knew he’s not always an asshole, an old fashioned dick. in fleeting moments, he is soft, tender, reminding you of a love that could've been.

sometimes he's the one who forgets. 

ben forgets every time he paces around the room, shouting, fists clenched tight, voice raised. he doesn't hit you, but you still flinch if he comes near you when he's mad, because you both know he doesn't have to hit you to hurt you. he'll say things he can't and won't take back and you'll pretend you didn't hear him.

you forgive him before he says sorry. that's why he never apologises, he just touches you gently, eyes filled with pretend regret while you curl up on his lap as he lights a joint.

his rage isn’t just loud—it’s lonely, misdirected, and brutal. and it leaves emotional wreckage every time.

he doesn't always yell, maybe it'll be a slammed door, a look or a flash in his eyes that makes the room feel like it might shatter under the weight of his fury. you know ben's anger is really a mirror of his inner damage, the anger is not just anger but a symptom—a scar.

the sound of his keys tossed carelessly on the counter, the light in the hallway turning on and he way he never takes off his boots right away are little sensory details that haunt you.

you don't remember falling asleep, curled up in your bed, but the second the front door opens, you wake up, like your body knows when he's close.

tock, tick, tock, tick—

you know it's past midnight because the city is unnervingly quiet, the new york traffic slower until the first hours of the morning.

as you hear the fridge opening, then closing, and the noise of a beer cracking open, you wonder how ben got home.

he doesn't speak when he walks into the bedroom, just stares down at you. before you can let him know you're awake—maybe by whispering a shy ‘hi’—he disappears back into the darkness like he's part of it.

you always hope ben will mumble something, maybe an excuse, but nothing ever comes. just the weight of having him near enough to smell but never knowing where he's been.

he's fine, just tired, he just needs his space—you tell yourself as you snuggle to your pillow, waiting for him to join you in bed.

as he crawls into bed with you, you pretend to sleep. maybe this time he'll pull me closer and hold me all night like im the only girl in the world.

ben still doesn't speak, his back to yours feeling like a wall you cant climb.

"where have you been?" you whisper after a few minutes.

ben grunts like he was just on the verge of falling asleep and your voice brought him back to reality. "out."

"with?"

"does it matter?" his cold and short answer shuts you up immediately. he rarely ever has to raise his voice to shut you up.

"it does to me." you say as you roll onto your side, facing him. you find him stomach up, arm under his head as his green eyes are glued to the ceiling. the scent of smoke clings to him—probably cigarettes, maybe weed, more likely something worse.

ben exhales through his nose. not annoyed, just... weary. almost as if the conversation is too much and your concern just noise in his ears. when he finally turns his head to look at you, his eyes are red—and you almost wish it were from tears. "can we not do this right now?"

"do what, talk?"

he sighs now, doesn't answer. you watch his figure bathed in moonlight peaking from the blinds. you watch his fingers twitching on his thigh, like they're still holding something they haven't put down. you wonder where you'll find the empty beer can tomorrow, bets are on the bathroom counter.

you know this version of him all too well, you've met him before, for months around 1am. this is the ben that comes back home in the middle of the night, smelling like the girl he eyed too long at the bar.

you reach for his arm, not to bring him closer, god no, but just to touch him. to remind yourself he is real.

"i wait for you." you murmur, glancing back up at his face just in time to see the bite he gives the inside of his cheek.

your fingers gently tighten around his arm, encouragingly, and you hope that he's going to say something different tonight, something that will make the waiting worth it.

instead ben grunts again, tired green eyes still avoiding yours.

"i'm here now." he replies like it's enough before rolling onto his side, facing the opposite direction.

you stare at his naked back, inches apart, his silence weight more than what he said.

you roll onto your back as a soft snore breaks the silence and you sigh, another battle lost.

like always, ben falls asleep first and you breathe him in like the apology you'll never receive.

[jays-bonnie-on-the-side]

This makes me love him even more 😩❤️

[soldiergf]

i hate you (just enough to love you) - soldier boy x the boys member! fem reader

summary: you're one of the boys, and you're assigned to 'babysit' the infamous soldier boy. let's just say it doesn't exactly go to plan; 1819 words

tw: smut, hate sex, lots of cursing, light misogyny

it’s not every day you wake up and find out that the man who was previously known the world’s greatest superhero —who was supposedly very dead— is, in fact, not fucking dead. because, surprise! turns out the dramatic farewell speech given by vought employees about how the great soldier boy “sacrificed himself to save his people” or whatever was a big, fat lie. go fucking figure.

to make matters worse, the boys decided to take in soldier boy, believing he was the key to defeating homelander, and they left you in charge of babysitting duty. 

“no,” you protested, giving butcher a pleaded look because, honestly, you’d rather spend your tuesday evening doing literally anything else. “he’s over a century old for fucks sake, he doesn’t need babysitting!”

“such foul language!” butcher had teased, to which you just flipped him off. “relax, love. you’ll be fine. jus’ for a couple hours, that’s all. you can do it.”

“yeah, but the thing is, i really don’t want to.” you pleaded, which simply got a laugh out of butcher, and unfortunately for you, not much else. 

which is how you ended up sitting next to soldier boy on some dusty old motel sofa, counting down the hours until the boys return while they’re off doing whatever the fuck it is they’re doing.

“you seem fun.” soldier Boy smirks, his gaze lingering a bit too long for comfort, his eyes dragging over you like he’s a man starved and you’re the largest piece of meat.

your jaw tightens. you don’t bother hiding the scowl twisting your face. the way he looks at you—hungry, entitled, fucking confident—it sends a chill down your spine.

gross, you think, resisting the urge to scoot away. despite you being on opposite sides of the couch, he’s close—too close for comfort. the scent of whiskey and arrogance clings to him like a second skin, his presence practically suffocating. he’s old enough to be my goddamn grandfather.

“what are you looking at?” you snap, not sure what else to say, because how exactly do you tell one of the world’s most powerful super soldiers who could kill you with just a punch that you’re not interested. yeah, that conversation would not go well.

“you, sweetheart.” he says smugly, and oh if you didn’t want to punch him before, then you really want to now.

“don’t call me that.” you tell him simply.

“why not?”

“because i don’t like it.”

“too bad.”

you rolled your eyes, deciding not to press further, desperately wanting to pick a fight but unfortunately, he was good for the team or whatever. if he really could help them defeat homelander, then maybe putting up with his insufferable ego for a couple hours would be worth it. maybe.

you let the tv play in the background, some dumb sitcom from when you were a kid, and for a good 15 - maybe 20 minutes - it was kind of peaceful. soldier boy had finally shut up, and you felt a little more relaxed, a little less on edge. that was, until the commercials started playing, and an advertisement for a baby carrier for dads was shown. and let’s just say soldier boy did not take kindly to that.

“do men really walk around like that?” he had asked you, to which you simply nodded.

“um, yeah. some dads do.”

he just scoffed. “fuck ass pussy gear,” he muttered under your breath, and a more patient person would’ve just let it go, but unfortunately, you were probably the least patient person on this planet.

“god forbid a man tries to take care of his of fucking child.” you shake your head, annoyed by his comment.

“i'm just saying.” soldier boy shrugs. “taking care of the child? sweetheart, that’s what the woman is supposed to do. you know, keep the house, raise the kid, make sure everything runs smoothly so the men can focus on real work? seems like the world’s gone soft." 

“god, you are such an asshole.” you comment. (you secretly wonder if he genuinely believes this fucked up idology, if he’s just trying to push your buttons) “what’s so wrong with the mother working? or maybe the mom isn’t around. maybe she died, or got sick, or she left or something? doesn’t mean the world’s gone fucking soft!”

“i know, i know. but just, back in my day-”

“i don’t give a shit about back in your day! this isn’t back in your day, it’s the goddamn present, and i hate to break it to you, but your misogynistic asshole bullshit doesn’t fly anymore. i get that you were used to being fucking worshipped by everyone on this planet, but news flash, no one even no ones your alive anymore, and i have a feeling most people wouldn’t even care. so how about you get off of your fucking high horse, and realize that you don’t own this world, you never have, and you never will, so maybe it’s best to just zip it and actually listen to only fucking people who are trying to help you!”

you were beyond aggravated. sure, you get it, he was soldier boy, he was a big deal or whatever, but that didn’t give him the right to just be an asshole and say whatever the hell he wanted to. by the end of your little ‘speech’, you were fuming, and while you didn’t exactly think about the repercussions of your outburst beforehand, you were now starting to realize that maybe cursing out one of the most powerful super soldiers was not the best idea you’ve had.

but he didn’t look mad. instead he looked…amused.

"well you're a feisty one, huh?" he smirks, licking his lips, eyes dark with intrigue as he leans in just a fraction closer.

“oh, fuck you!” you scoff, those two short seconds of self preservation you had fading away once again.

“i’m sure you’d like that, wouldn’t you, baby?”

“god, do you ever think about anything else than sex?” you roll your eyes, getting up from the couch.

“come on, sweetheart.” he says in a taunting voice, standing up to meet your gaze. “you’re obviously all worked up right now. a little release could be nice, no?”

and fuck, he has a point. because, yeah, you’re pent up all his. both from not getting a good fucking in who knows how long and also because of the fact you’re holed up in a room with the world’s biggest manchild (next to homelander, that is). and, despite all of his asshole-ness, you have to admit - soldier boy is hot. like, porn star level hot. and you can see the way he looks at you, he wants this bad. you realize he probably hasn’t had sex in over 30 years, at least not since before getting captured by the russians. and it’s not like you had a track record of making the best decisions anyways…

yeah, okay. fuck it.

you shove soldier boy against the wall, taking his mouth into a searing kiss. it’s hot, heavy, passionate, full of desire, and fuck, you’d be lying if you said it doesn’t feel good. no, it feels great. you hook your leg around his thigh, grinding rough and hard against him, letting out loud moans with each roll of your hip. 

“fuck…” you murmur against his lips, letting his tongue slide into your mouth.

he unbuttons your pants, shoving them down to your calves, pulling your underwear down as well. his lips latch against your neck as his fingers move to your pussy, rubbing circles inside of your pretty clit, with his pointer and middle finger, and for a second you start to understand why his ego was so goddamn big - he was probably used to women praising him for how good he was in bed. he’s been touching you, for what, five seconds, and you can already tell this is going to be the best fucking of your life. 

“i still fucking hate you” you spit out, your harsh words followed by a moan.

“i know you do, baby, i hate you too.” he says, moving his lips back to meet yours. “but i love the way your pussy feels. so soft, and warm, so fucking perfect for me.”

you roll your hips, desperate for even more of his touch, despite the fact his fingers were deep inside of you. at this point, you didn’t even care how stupid or needy you looked, you just needed him to keep touching you like that - and given the way he keeps moaning and kissing you, you have a feeling he needs this just as bad.

“hate you so fucking much.” you say again, biting down on his bottom lip, tugging on it with your teeth.

his fingers thrust hard and fast into you, eliciting even more whimpers and moans from you. “fuck.. im close.” you cry, feeling your orgasm brewing up. you felt like you were on cloud fucking nine right now, you felt so damn good, and you hate that it was all because of fucking soldier boy. all because of that annoying, arrogant, powerful, hot as hell sex god standing in front of you.

“come for me, baby girl.” he tells you, and with that, your orgasm comes crashing down, your come coated his long fingers.

your legs are shaking, hard and heavy, and you barely even register when soldier boy pulls his fingers out of your worn out pussy and licks your come off of his fingers, holding eye contact with you the whole damn time. asshole, you think. his hair is all disheveled, and you can’t imagine how messy you must look right now.

“the others are going to be back soon.” he says. “we should probably get cleaned up.”

you look almost confused for a second. “but what about you?” you saw how worked up and horny he had gotten, you knew he wanted it too, and you had a feeling soldier boy would not give a flying fuck if the boys saw the two of you naked having crazy good hate sex.

he just laughs. “next time, sweetheart. next time.”

“whatever, soldier boy.” you roll your eyes, emphasizing his name in a mocking manner.

“it’s ben. call me ben.”

ben. it’s a nice name, you think. it’s not pretentious or arrogant, the way ‘soldier boy’ is. it’s nice, and simple, and maybe kind of basic, but you don’t mind. it’s not the name of a superhero, or a world-class dickhead, but instead, the name of a man - someone real, someone who’s made mistakes and lived with them, someone who might actually deserve a second chance. you think you might like it. you think you might like it a lot.

but before you can say or do anything else, he’s turning around and walking away, and you’re left wondering what the fuck you just got yourself into.

[daylighted]

¹artist!ben who involuntarily flinches when someone/reader touches him. who eventually - very slowly - gets used to the reader jumping on him or something.

²artist!ben who he is insecure no matter how cocky he acts and doesn't think the reader is someone who would date him for him.

³artist!ben who spends time locked in his dorm room sketching the reader over and over, in whatever way he pictures her.

⁴artist!ben who blushes when reader barges in his space during lunch and he has to act fast to hide the incomplete sketch of her.

⁵artist!ben who's always grumpy and secretive about his art with reader until she annoys him enough to let her see it.

I'm crying. he is such a baby. our baby.

our baby!!! i also love love love the thought of. hold on. i am so getting ahead of myself but i must write it i can't just be normal and discuss this.

"you don't even know me, ben."

it's like a slap to the face, those words, so callously thrown out in defense of an argument that wasn't even that serious. the very muse of his affections, reducing him to someone that doesn't pay attention to you. you! like you weren't in his head constantly. like he didn't know the angles of your face like he knew how to rinse charcoal completely away from his fingertips to hide the evidence of his work in between the pages of his sketchpad.

"don't know you?" he repeats, slowly, venom laced in between every word. "don't know you." his tongue pokes into his cheek, a humorless laugh falling from his parted lips.

for a moment, it looks like you're going to say something - but it's too late, now. you poked something long-dead and it moved, and now you had to handle the consequences of it. "you wear your hair down even though you hate when it gets in your eyes. you chew on your fingernails when you're nervous. sometimes, when you're focused, your tongue pokes out between your teeth."

you're frozen in place, staring at him with an expression that he hasn't yet drawn. something that was somehow floored and blank all at once. ben decides he doesn't want to draw it. he doesn't like to see the masks over your face. he wants to draw out your real thoughts and paint those.

"you like to stand outside when it rains," he continues, determined to get a new expression from you, wanting to add another study of your features to his collection, "you only drink from a straw so you don't mess up your lip gloss. you have a new nail polish color every few days because you pick it off almost instantly."

your head shakes, back and forth, like you can deny the truths he's laying bare. your lip is wobbling, and it's beautiful to see something he's drawn on still canvas so many times in motion. "you laugh loudly, don't give a shit who hears. you smile when you don't think anyone's looking, a real smile, and it's the prettiest fuckin' thing i've ever seen."

he takes a step closer, just so you can't escape. he's on the precipice of a revelation, he just needs that final push. "i have tried, over and over, to imitate the color of your eyes in this," he holds up the sketchbook, flips quickly through every page just fast enough for you to see the silhouettes of you in the rain, your smile, your laugh, you brushing hair out of your eyes, you drinking a milkshake, though not fast enough to see the love and care put into each and every one. "but i can't figure it out. can't ever get it right. nothing compares to looking at them."

and he looks at them for a long while, basking in the vulnerable, raw expression painted on your features. he doesn't want to paint this one either. this one, ben wants to keep just for himself.

"so don't ever tell me i don't know you. i know you in all of your forms, sweetheart. if you don't believe me? it's all on fucking paper."

[lila-lou]

✨Fucking Brats - 2/3✨

Summary: You and Ben have two teenage daughters, and lately, they’ve been nothing short of awful. With Ben away on missions, you've been taking the heat. But when he finally steps back through that door and sees how they’ve been treating you? Hell breaks loose. Because no one—not even his own brats—messes with his girl.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, Angst

Word Count: 8942

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 💙

The next morning, you woke up to warmth. Soft, lingering kisses trailing down your skin, slow and deliberate, pulling you from the edges of sleep. Ben.

Your breath hitched as his mouth moved lower, his lips brushing along the swell of your breast, his rough, calloused hands skimming over your waist, holding you close beneath the sheets. For the first time in months, you had actually slept. No stress weighing you down, no fights to break up, no constant edge of exhaustion clawing at your bones. Just him, his solid, steady presence beside you, his body wrapped around yours, keeping you tethered to something warm, something safe.

A soft hum slipped from your lips as you blinked your eyes open, sunlight spilling through the curtains, illuminating Ben’s messy hair, his sharp jawline, his dark lashes against his cheeks. “Morning”, he murmured against your skin, his voice low, rough, pressing another slow, wet kiss just above your nipple. You shivered.

His lips curved against you, his breath warm, teasing. “You’re already starting shit?”, you whispered, fingers threading through his thick hair, tugging just slightly.

Ben let out a low chuckle, his mouth dragging lower, his stubble scratching lightly against your skin. “Woke up, saw my girl laying here all soft and warm, tits out—”. He flicked his tongue over your nipple, smirking when you gasped. “What the fuck did you think was gonna happen?”.

You let out a breathy laugh, squirming slightly beneath him, but his grip tightened on your waist, keeping you still.

“You gonna let me take care of you, baby?”, he murmured, his voice dipping lower, sending a shiver straight down your spine. “Been too long since I had my hands on you”.

Your stomach tightened, your thighs pressing together instinctively. Ben noticed. His smirk widened. “Oh”, he muttered, pressing another slow, open-mouthed kiss between your breasts. “You missed me, huh?”.

You rolled your eyes, but your breath stuttered as he sucked, teeth grazing lightly over your nipple before flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud. Ben grinned when you arched slightly into him. “Yeah”, he muttered, dragging his mouth lower, his breath hot against your ribs. “I thought so”.

Ben didn’t waste a second. One moment, he was teasing, kissing, drawing soft sounds from your lips, and the next, he was on top of you. His broad, bare chest pressed against yours, the weight of him sinking you deeper into the mattress. He was everywhere. His hands gripping your waist, his thighs spreading yours, his hardness pressing insistently against your stomach.

Your breath hitched, your fingers threading through his damp hair as he kissed you, really kissed you this time. Deep, slow, and possessive, like he was making up for every second he had been away.

A low growl rumbled from his chest as he rocked against you, the heat of his length dragging against your skin, making you ache. “Fuck”, he muttered against your lips, pressing his forehead to yours, his breath coming out heavy, ragged. “Missed you so goddamn much”.

His hips rolled again, and you felt it, how hard he was, how desperate. It made something inside you tighten, made your nails dig into his back, made you whimper just slightly. But Ben heard it. Felt it. And it wrecked him.

His hand gripped your thigh, pulling it up to wrap around his waist as he settled even deeper between your legs. His lips trailed down your throat, over your collarbone, his voice thick with hunger. “You gonna let me fuck you, baby?”, he murmured, dragging his teeth along your pulse. “Gonna let me take my time with you?”.

You nodded, already breathless, already dizzy with the heat of him.

Ben smirked against your skin, his fingers trailing lower, teasing, as he pressed another kiss just between your breasts. “Good”, he muttered, his voice dipping lower. “‘Cause I’m not fucking stopping until you’re screaming my name”.

Ben groaned as he eased inside you, the thick, hot stretch making you gasp, your nails digging into his biceps so hard he actually raised an eyebrow. “Shit, baby”, he muttered, his voice low, gritted, his forehead pressing against yours. “It’s been too long, huh?”.

You nodded breathlessly, your thighs trembling slightly around his waist. Even after all these years, after all the times you’d had him like this, Ben was big. Always a stretch, always pushing you to the edge of what you could take.

His smirk was lazy, teasing, but his eyes were dark, hungry. “You’re gripping me so fuckin’ tight”m he murmured, shifting his hips just slightly, making you whimper. “You really missed me, huh?”.

You didn’t answer—couldn’t.

Ben chuckled, low and rough, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to your jaw as he thrust just a little deeper.

You gasped, arching against him, your fingers tightening around his arms.

Ben groaned, his own body shuddering slightly as he held himself back, giving you time to adjust. “Relax for me, baby”, he muttered against your ear, his breath hot, his hands running soothingly along your sides. “Let me in”.

You let out a shaky breath, your legs loosening around him slightly, your body finally relaxing enough for him to sink the rest of the way inside.

Ben groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder, his fingers gripping your hips tight. “Fuck”, he rasped. “You feel so goddamn good”. He pulled back, just slightly, before rolling his hips forward again, dragging another gasp from your lips, making your back arch. Ben grinned. “Oh yeah”, he muttered, his voice rough, gravelly. “I’m not stoppin’ ‘til you can’t even fuckin’ walk”.

Ben pulled back, just enough for you to feel every inch of him drag against your walls before he slammed forward again, making your breath hitch, your fingers clawing at his biceps. “Fuck, baby”, he growled, his breath hot against your throat. “You feel that?”.

You whimpered, your back arching against the bed as he set a steady, brutal pace. His hips driving into you with purpose, filling you up so deep it made your head spin. Ben grinned at your reaction, his teeth grazing your jaw before he sank his lips against your neck, sucking a deep, possessive mark into your skin. “Mine”, he muttered against your pulse, his grip on your waist tightening. “You know that, right?”.

Your thighs clenched around his hips, your breath ragged, pleasure coiling hot in your stomach. “Ben—”.

He groaned at the way you said his name, his hips snapping forward even harder.

You gasped, your nails digging into his back, your entire body shaking beneath him.

“Say it again”, he rasped, his voice almost desperate now, his forehead pressed against yours. “Say my name, baby”.

You barely managed to choke it out before he thrust again, pulling a sharp, broken moan from your lips.

Ben grinned, pure pride burning in his eyes, his breath hot against your face.

“That’s right”, he muttered, his rhythm relentless, his body moving against yours like he owned you. “You take what I give you. You take it ‘cause you fuckin’ love it”.

You did. You fucking did. And Ben knew it, too. Knew it from the way you clenched around him, from the way you could barely breathe, from the way your body trembled every time he drove himself deeper inside you.

His hand slid between your bodies, fingers finding your clit, pressing down with just the right amount of pressure. You cried out, your body arching, your head tipping back against the pillows. “That’s it”, he muttered, his voice rough, almost wrecked. “Give me everything”.

You were close, so close, and Ben could feel it, could see it in the way you fell apart beneath him. And he fucking loved it.

“C’mon, baby”, he growled, his thrusts turning desperate now, ragged. “Let me feel it. Let me feel you cum on my cock”.

And when you did, when your body clenched tight around him, your mouth falling open, a sharp, breathless moan ripping from your lips, Ben lost it. He groaned deep in his throat, his rhythm stuttering, his grip tightening as he buried himself inside you, his body shaking with the force of his release.

For a long moment, neither of you moved. Just harsh, heavy breathing, tangled limbs, sweat-slicked skin pressed together.

Then, after a moment, Ben chuckled breathlessly, his forehead resting against your shoulder. “Yeah”, he muttered, pressing a slow, lazy kiss against your collarbone. “That’s more like it”.

Ben was still buried inside you, his body warm, solid, his breath hot against your skin. His lips ghosted over your collarbone, slow and lazy, like he wasn’t in any hurry to move. His palm slid over your chest, down to your stomach, his rough fingertips tracing absentminded circles against your soft skin.

Then, he paused.

Something pulsed beneath his palm, faint but distinct, like a low hum thrumming just beneath the surface.

Ben’s brows furrowed slightly, his hand pressing just a little firmer, testing, but then, before he could focus, before he could ask, there was a knock on the door. Ben stiffened immediately, his jaw clenching, his head dropping against your shoulder with a groan.

“Dad?”, Ava’s voice came through the door. “The kitchen’s done. Can you come check?”. She sounded nervous.

Ben exhaled sharply, rolling his head back against the pillow, muttering a quiet “Fucking cockblock”, under his breath before shifting slightly, finally pulling out of you.

You winced at the sudden loss, still dazed, still warm, your body still thrumming with the remnants of pleasure. Then, your eyes flickered toward the door, and a thought crossed your mind.Your stomach dropped. You turned to Ben, your voice barely above a whisper. “…You think she heard something?”.

Ben’s expression didn’t change. Didn’t even waver. Then, after a beat, he let out a deep, exhausted sigh, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Baby”, he muttered, voice gruff, deadpan, “you forget about supe hearing every single fucking time”.

Ava let out a loud, dramatic groan from behind the door. “Oh my god”, she muttered. “Why do you always do this?”.

You gasped, clutching the blanket higher around your chest, your face going hot. “Ava!”.

“What?”, Ava grumbled. “It’s so much worse when you talk about it afterward”.

Ben let out a low, amused chuckle, shaking his head. You, on the other hand, were dying. “Ava”, you called, voice still mortified. “Go away”.

“Gladly!”, she shot back. “Just—come check the kitchen when you’re… decent”.

You groaned, burying your face into Ben’s shoulder, wishing for death.

Ben, meanwhile, was clearly enjoying himself, his smirk pure arrogance as he dragged his fingers up and down your spine. “Told you”, he murmured against your ear. “Super hearing, baby”. You smacked his chest, making him chuckle even more.

Ava’s footsteps retreated down the hall, her annoyed muttering barely audible as she left.

By the time you and Ben made it downstairs, clean, dressed, and mostly recovered, the smell of breakfast filled the kitchen. It was a shock, really.

Liv and Ava, standing by the stove, actually cooking instead of trying to kill each other. The counters were repaired, the floors scrubbed, and, shockingly, the entire kitchen looked normal again.

You paused in the doorway, your arms crossed tightly over your chest, still raw from last night, still unsure of how to face them after everything. You didn’t say anything. Didn’t even meet their eyes. Instead, you quietly made your way to the table, keeping your gaze fixed on the steaming cup of coffee waiting for you, clearly placed there with an attempt at peace.

Ben, however, didn’t hesitate. He strode in like he owned the place (which, technically, he did), grabbing a piece of bacon straight from the plate Liv was arranging, ignoring the way she scowled at him. “Kitchen looks good”, he muttered, chewing, before glancing at Ava. “Took you long enough”. Ava rolled her eyes but didn’t argue.

You sat down at the table, wrapping your hands around the warm coffee mug, hoping the heat would ground you. You were exhausted, emotionally drained, and still not sure how to process the fact that Liv and Ava had actually cleaned up their mess, not just physically, but also by trying to make breakfast as some kind of peace offering. But the second you caught a whiff of the eggs sitting in front of you, your stomach turned.

The greasy, sulfuric scent hit your nose all at once, making your throat clench, your body rejecting it immediately. You quickly pushed the plate away, wrinkling your nose, doing your best not to gag in front of everyone.

Liv’s head snapped toward you instantly. “Oh my god”, she muttered, arms crossing over her chest, already defensive. “I try to do something nice, and you don’t even pretend to appreciate it?”.

You barely had time to process her words, still trying to breathe through the nausea.

Ava shot her sister a warning glance. “Liv—”.

“No, seriously”, Liv scoffed, clearly not done. “I cook one goddamn meal, and suddenly it’s not good enough?”.

Ben, who had been casually munching on his stolen piece of bacon, suddenly stilled. His sharp green eyes flickered toward you, narrowing slightly, his entire demeanor shifting from amused to calculating. Because he knew you. He knew you better than anyone. And, more importantly, he remembered.

The last time you couldn’t stomach the smell of eggs, you had been pregnant with the twins.

Ben didn’t say anything at first, just tilted his head slightly, watching the way your throat tightened, the way your fingers trembled slightly against the coffee mug, the way you refused to look at the food in front of you. His jaw ticked.

Liv, still completely oblivious, groaned loudly, throwing up her hands. “Great. Awesome. Love this fucking family”.

Ben ignored her. Instead, he leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table, his voice suddenly low. “Baby”.

You swallowed thickly, looking up at him, your stomach still turning. “What?”.

Ben’s eyes flickered toward the plate, then back to you. “You feel sick?”.

You hesitated. That alone was enough of an answer.

Ben exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand down his face, his lips pressing into a firm line. “Oh, fuck me”, he muttered.

Liv blinked. “What?”.

Ben didn’t answer.

Instead, he just looked at you, really looked at you, like everything was suddenly clicking into place.

You bit your lip, staring at Ben, your heart pounding. He already knew. It was written all over his face. The sharp calculation in his eyes was gone, replaced by something entirely different, a slow-spreading grin that took over his entire face, his green eyes gleaming with something wild, something excited. “When did you find out?”, he asked, already standing from his chair, already moving toward you. His voice was lower now, rougher, but it wasn’t sharp, wasn’t demanding, it was something else entirely. Something thrilled. Something almost soft.

You exhaled slowly, gripping the edge of the table as he loomed over you, towering, broad, his hand resting against the back of your chair, caging you in. “Two weeks ago”, you admitted quietly, your voice almost hesitant.

Ben let out a low chuckle, shaking his head, running a hand down his face like he couldn’t believe it. “Jesus”, he muttered. Then he looked back down at you, his grin widening. “You serious?”.

You nodded, still watching him carefully, waiting for the full impact of your words to hit.

Ben let out a short, breathless laugh, his eyes flickering down to your stomach, like he was already imagining what you would look like round with his kid again. His palm immediately smoothed over your belly, pressing just slightly, like he was trying to feel something that wasn’t there yet. It sent a shiver through you, his touch warm, possessive, grounding.

Ava and Liv just sat there, staring, completely fucking lost. “…What the fuck is going on?”, Liv finally blurted.

Ben ignored her, still grinning, still pressing his palm against your stomach like he was trying to make the reality sink in. His thumb traced slow circles over your stomach, his eyes still locked onto the spot like he was seeing something no one else could. “I knew I felt something this morning”, he muttered, more to himself than to you, his voice low, almost in awe. “My kid”.

Your breath hitched. The way he said it, like the idea of another child, of another part of him growing inside you, was the most incredible thing he had ever heard. It made something inside you melt, made your fingers reach up to brush over his jaw, your touch hesitant, grounding him just as much as he was grounding you. Ben sighed into it, turning his head slightly, pressing a slow, lingering kiss against your palm before leaning in closer, his forehead brushing against your stomach again.

Ava and Liv were still sitting there, staring. Still completely fucking lost. Liv’s brows furrowed, her eyes narrowing slightly as she processed the scene in front of her. “Wait”, She pointed between you and Ben. “Wait, wait, wait-”.

Ava’s face slowly shifted from confusion to something horrified. “Oh my god”, she muttered, eyes widening.

Liv stared at you like she had just been hit by a truck. Her mouth opened, closed, then opened again before she finally blurted out, “You’re pregnant?”. Her voice wasn’t teasing anymore. Wasn’t sharp or smug or filled with her usual attitude. She sounded… shocked. And then, almost immediately, something else flickered across her face, something you hadn’t seen in weeks, months. Guilt. Real, heavy, gut-punching guilt.

Ava had gone silent beside her, her lips pressing into a thin line, her expression unreadable, but Liv, Liv looked sick. Because now it was all clicking into place. Now she was realizing. You had been dealing with them, with their bullshit, with their screaming, with their destruction, while secretly carrying another life inside you. You had been breaking down, begging them to stop, and they had done nothing but push you further. And now? Now, Liv was realizing just how much worse she had made things.

Your lips parted, unsure of what to say, unsure of how to fix the emotions that were now flickering across her face. But before you could speak, she suddenly stood up. The chair scraped loudly against the floor as she backed away, her hands shaking. “I—”, she started, voice tight, barely above a whisper. She shook her head, her throat bobbing, her breath quickening. “I need a second”. And then she turned and walked out.

Ben sighed deeply, rubbing a hand down his face, clearly not in the mood to go running after her. “For fuck’s sake—”.

“I’ll go”, Ava muttered quickly, standing up, her tone surprisingly gentle for once. She followed after her sister, disappearing into the hallway, leaving you and Ben alone in the quiet kitchen.

You swallowed hard, your fingers gripping your coffee mug, your stomach still queasy. “…That could’ve gone worse”, you muttered.

Ben scoffed, pulling out a chair and dropping into it beside you. “Give her a minute. She’s just realizing she’s been a massive fucking asshole for the last few months”.

You let out a breathy chuckle, shaking your head. “They both have”.

Ben grunted, stealing another piece of bacon off Liv’s abandoned plate, biting into it with a smirk. “Good thing they take after you then”, he muttered. “Otherwise, I’d have killed them already”.

You laughed softly, exhaling slowly, some of the tension leaving your body.

Ben glanced at you, his green eyes softer now, more focused. His hand reached under the table, smoothing over your thigh, grounding you.

“You okay?”, he asked, voice quieter now.

You hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah”, you murmured. “I think so”.

Ben hummed, squeezing your thigh gently before leaning back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head with a shit-eating smirk. “You know what this means, right?”.

You raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Ben’s smirk widened. “This kid’s gonna be your favorite”, he teased. “No way they’ll be as much of a pain in the ass as the first two”.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help but smile. "Let me check on them", you whispered to Ben, barely glancing at him before making your way toward the stairs.

He didn’t argue. Didn’t tell you to let them stew in their guilt. Didn’t tell you they deserved to sit in their regret for a while. Because, deep down, Ben understood. So, without a word, he followed.

The walk to Liv’s room felt longer than it should have. Your stomach was still unsettled, your emotions still raw from everything that had unfolded in the past twenty-four hours. When you reached her door, you hesitated for only a second before pushing it open. Inside, Liv sat on the edge of her bed, her elbows resting on her knees, her hands clenched together tightly. Ava sat beside her, her posture slightly more relaxed, but still tense, like she wasn’t sure whether she was supposed to comfort Liv or just sit there in silence.

As soon as they noticed you standing in the doorway, both of their heads snapped up. Liv’s face was tight, her brows furrowed, like she was still processing everything.

Ben stepped in behind you, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, his presence heavy but not threatening.

You took a slow breath before stepping further inside, lowering yourself to sit on the other side of Liv. For a long moment, no one spoke.

"How long have you known?", Liv finally asked, her voice quiet, almost small.

You sighed, resting your hands over your stomach, over your child. "Two weeks".

Liv inhaled sharply through her nose, nodding, her jaw clenched. She didn’t look at you, just stared down at her hands, fingers twisting together like she didn’t know what to do with them.

Ava exhaled, rubbing at her forehead before shaking her head. “Shit”, she muttered. “We were awful”.

You didn’t say anything. Didn’t have to. Because the silence was enough.

Liv let out a short, humorless laugh, shaking her head. “I was such an asshole”, she muttered, finally looking up at you. Her eyes were red-rimmed, guilt clouding every inch of her face. “To you”.

Your chest tightened. You swallowed, your hand reaching out, covering hers gently. “Yeah”, you murmured, your voice soft, honest. “You were”.

Liv’s breath hitched slightly. Ava sighed, shaking her head again, her voice quieter this time. “We didn’t know”.

“You should have”, Ben muttered from the doorway, his voice firm but not harsh.

Both girls looked at him.

His expression was unreadable, but his eyes were sharp. “You should have noticed”, he muttered. “You should have listened when she said she was tired. When she begged you two to stop fighting. When she tried to keep this family from falling apart”.

Liv swallowed hard, looking away. Ava just nodded, her throat bobbing as she sat a little straighter. "We're sorry", Liv muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. "For everything".

Your breath caught slightly, your fingers tightening around hers. It wasn’t everything. It wasn’t a magic fix. But it was something.

Ben let out a slow exhale, shaking his head before pushing off the doorframe and stepping forward. “Well”, he muttered, his voice lighter now, a teasing smirk curling at his lips. “You better be, ‘cause now you two little shits gotta help take care of a baby”.

Liv groaned immediately, Ava snorted, and just like that, the weight in the room started to lift.

“A baby”, Liv muttered, shaking her head like she was physically trying to process the reality of it. “Another sibling”. Ava just exhaled, leaning back on her palms, her lips twitching slightly. “Jesus. Mom, you’re insane”.

Ben grinned, clearly loving every second of their reactions. “You should’ve figured that out years ago”, he muttered, arms crossing over his chest. “She chose to have you two, didn’t she?”.

Liv shot him a glare. “Oh, shut up”.

Ben chuckled, shaking his head, but his sharp green eyes flickered toward you, watching you closely.

You could still see the concern there, the way he was carefully making sure you weren’t pushing yourself too hard, that you were okay with this, that you weren’t still drowning in the exhaustion and heartbreak that had nearly broken you yesterday. And… you weren’t. Not fully. But right now, sitting beside Liv, watching Ava roll her eyes at Ben’s teasing, seeing them actually acknowledge their actions, their mistakes, it was better.

You exhaled softly, rubbing your hand over your stomach absentmindedly. Ava noticed, her eyes flickering downward, something unreadable crossing her expression. “What’s it feel like?”, she asked, her voice quieter now.

You blinked, tilting your head slightly. “What?”.

Ava gestured vaguely toward your stomach. “Being pregnant. What’s it feel like?”. Liv scoffed beside her. “Yeah, do you just know there’s something in there? Or is it, like… weird?”.

Ben chuckled from behind you, shaking his head. “The fuck kinda question is that?”.

“I wanna know”, Liv shot back.

You smiled softly, running a hand over your stomach. “It’s… different every time”, you admitted, voice gentle. “At first, you don’t feel much. Just little things, like being extra tired, or certain smells making you sick”. You chuckled lightly, shaking your head. “And then, one day, you know. You feel something shift inside you, and it’s… surreal”.

Ava tilted her head, her brows furrowing slightly as she processed your words. Liv, however, just wrinkled her nose. “Gross”, she muttered, crossing her arms. “Glad I’ll never have to deal with that”.

Ben, who had been standing behind you, stiffened immediately. His entire body tensed, his sharp green eyes locking onto her with an intensity that made you straighten up. “The fuck you won’t”, he muttered, his voice low, dangerous, dead serious.

Liv blinked. “What?”.

Ben’s jaw clenched. “Yeah”, he muttered, running a hand through his hair, suddenly looking deeply troubled. “You got her DNA”. He gestured toward you, his voice gruff. “Which means you don’t just get my supe genes, you get hers too”.

Liv’s eyes widened. Ava’s lips parted. The realization hit both of them at the same time. “You’re saying—”, Ava started. "You’re telling me—”, Liv spoke over her, her voice getting louder.

“You two can get pregnant”, Ben muttered bluntly, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

Liv gasped dramatically, her face twisting in horror. “Oh my god”. Ava looked sick. “No, no, that’s— that can’t be right—”.

Ben tensed. His arms crossed tighter over his chest, his entire body going rigid, his green eyes narrowing with a mix of deep fatherly dread and paranoia. And then, he spoke, just a bit too high, just a bit too forced. “…So”, he muttered, shifting his weight slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Neither of you… uh…”. He cleared his throat. “You two aren’t, uh—”.

Liv’s expression immediately shifted into pure disgust. “Oh my god, no”, she groaned, throwing a pillow at him, which he easily caught, his face still deeply troubled. Ava made a face. “Dad, seriously?”.

Ben exhaled sharply, his jaw tight, clearly not convinced. “Just checking”, he muttered, rolling his shoulders. “You never fucking tell me shit, so how the hell am I supposed to know?”.

Liv scoffed, shaking her head aggressively. “Because I would rather die than talk about my sex life with you”.

Ben grunted, shifting uncomfortably, his fingers twitching like he wanted to punch something.

You, meanwhile, were desperately trying not to laugh at the absolute mess unfolding in front of you.

Liv still looked outraged. “Also, gross! Why are we even talking about this?”. Ava sighed, rubbing her temples. “Mom, please make him stop”.

You tried to suppress your amusement, shaking your head. “Ben…”.

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before pointing a very serious finger at both of them. “Listen to me”, he said, his voice deadly serious. “If I ever hear about either of you doing anything—".

“Dad—”.

“Ever”, he emphasized, his voice slightly raising, ignoring their protests. “If some punk-ass supe—”.

Liv groaned, throwing herself back onto the bed. “I hate this conversation”.

Ben kept going, completely ignoring her dramatics. “—so much as looks at you funny—”.

Ava rolled her eyes. “Dad, please”.

Ben pointed at her next. “You too! No fucking exceptions!”.

Ava just laughed, shaking her head. “Oh my god, you’re so insane”.

Ben grumbled, rubbing his face aggressively, still looking deeply, deeply troubled. “I hate this”.

Liv, still lying on the bed, let out a long, exaggerated groan. “You should”, she muttered. “Because this is your fault”.

Ben blinked. “What the fuck do you mean my fault?”.

Liv sat up, pointing at him aggressively. “You knocked Mom up again, so now we have to think about this shit!”.

Ben’s expression immediately twisted into offense. “Oh, fuck off”, he muttered, rolling his eyes. “Like I did this alone”.

Ava burst into laughter. You covered your face, dying inside. Liv just shook her head, standing up dramatically, still pointing at him. “I blame you for everything”.

Ben just snorted, crossing his arms again, his smirk lazy. “That’s funny, because last night—”.

“DAD, NO—”. Ava let out a loud groan, standing up. “I refuse to be in this room anymore”. Liv gagged. “Oh my god”.

Ben just laughed, clearly pleased with himself, as both of his daughters practically ran out of the room.

You shook your head, barely suppressing your own exhausted amusement, before turning to him.

He just grinned at you. “See?”, he muttered, smug. “Told you I’d keep ‘em in line”. Ben held out his hand, his grip firm and steady as he helped you up from the bed. His touch lingered, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand before he gently cupped your face, his calloused palms warm against your skin.

His green eyes, sharp and filled with something unreadable, searched yours, his brows furrowing slightly. "How’s that even possible?", he murmured, his voice low, rough. His thumb traced along your cheekbone, his gaze flickering down to your stomach before meeting your eyes again. "We tried for years. And now? Boom. Pregnant again?".

You swallowed, resting your hands against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath your fingertips. “I don’t know”, you admitted, shaking your head. “I—I thought maybe it just wasn’t meant to happen. And then…”, Your hand instinctively drifted down to your stomach, resting over the barely-there swell of new life. “Then it did”.

Ben exhaled sharply, his lips pressing into a thin line, his jaw working like he was thinking, like he was trying to make sense of it. His fingers trailed down, pressing lightly against your lower abdomen again, like he needed to feel it, like he needed proof that this was real.

For years, you had tried. Years of disappointment. Years of heartbreak. Years of watching him pretend not to care whenever another negative test stared back at you, whenever another month passed with nothing.

And now, when you had both already given up, it happened.

Ben let out a short, breathless chuckle, shaking his head. “Jesus”, he muttered. “I still can’t fucking believe it”.

You smiled softly, your fingers brushing over his arm. “You’re happy, right?”.

His head snapped up instantly. “What?”, he scowled, looking genuinely offended by the question. “Are you—of course I’m fucking happy!”.

Your chest tightened, your breath catching slightly at the sheer certainty in his voice.

Ben scoffed, shaking his head before gripping your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his. “You’re having my kid… again”, he muttered, his voice dropping lower, rougher. “What do you think that means to me?”.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding at the weight of his words. Before you could respond, before you could process the depth of it, he kissed you. Slow and deep, his hand tangling in your hair, the other still pressed against your stomach like he needed to feel both of you at the same time.

He pulled away just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath warm, his grip firm. “Just don’t expect me to stop after this one”, he muttered, smirking slightly. “You’re way too fucking good at makin’ my kids”.

You laughed, shaking your head. “Ben—”.

“I’m serious”, he teased, grinning. “We shoulda tried less years ago. Might’ve had a whole goddamn army by now”.

You rolled your eyes, smacking his arm lightly, but your heart was full. Because beneath all the teasing, all the cocky grins, all the Ben-ness of it all, he was happy. And that was all that mattered.

Ben meant it when he said he wasn’t leaving.

The second it sunk in that you were actually pregnant, he called up every contact he had, every mission he was scheduled for, and shut them all down. No more leaving for months at a time. No more coming home to a war zone. No more letting you deal with two super-powered teenage nightmares on your own. He was staying put.

And at first, it was good. Great, even.

He helped around the house more, not that he was any good at it. He hovered over you, making sure you weren’t lifting a single goddamn thing. He was there, present in a way he hadn’t been in years, and it was… nice.

Until you hit five months.

And suddenly, Ben remembered why he usually only stuck around in short intervals. Because Liv and Ava? Were driving him absolutely fucking insane.

It started with little things, eye rolls, snarky comments, muttering under their breath when he reminded them for the hundredth time to help their mother.

Then it escalated.

They bickered constantly, ignoring his demands to cut the shit, blasting music at full volume at all hours, testing every bit of patience he barely had left.

Until one evening, when you were trying to relax, sitting on the couch with a blanket draped over your ever-growing belly. Ben finally fucking snapped.

“That’s it!”, his voice boomed through the house, shaking the walls. Both girls froze mid-argument in the kitchen. Liv, who had just been flinging some dumb piece of furniture across the room in a fit of rage, immediately dropped it. Ava, who had been egging her on, swallowed hard.

You closed your eyes, inhaling deeply, already exhausted.

Ben stormed into the kitchen, his entire presence heavy, looming, furious. “You two little shits are the worst thing I have ever created”, he seethed, pacing in front of them like a fucking general preparing for war.

Liv scoffed, crossing her arms. “Oh my god, here we go—”.

Ben spun so fast she actually flinched. “No, no, no”, he growled, pointing a sharp finger at her. “You don’t get to act like I’m being fucking unreasonable! You two have been ABSOLUTE FUCKING MENACES since the second I got back!”.

Ava muttered something under her breath.

Ben turned immediately. “What the fuck was that?”, he barked.

Ava cleared her throat, suddenly silent. Liv huffed, rolling her eyes. “Dad, we’re just—”.

“No”, Ben cut her off, his voice dangerously low now. “You are testing every fucking ounce of patience I have left”.

Liv opened her mouth, but Ben wasn’t fucking done.

“No, no, no, shut the fuck up for once and listen to me”, he snapped, his voice rising again. “Your mother is growing a goddamn human being inside her, which, by the way, means I HAVE TO DO ALL YOUR SHIT FOR YOU BECAUSE YOU’RE TOO FUCKING USELESS TO HELP YOUR OWN MOTHER!”.

Ava winced. Liv gaped. “We help—”.

Ben laughed, actually laughed, sharp and humorless, running a rough hand down his face before shaking his head. “Oh, yeah”, he muttered, mocking, his hands waving dramatically. “So much help, Liv. SO MUCH FUCKING HELP”.

You sighed, rubbing your temples from the couch.

Liv looked furious. “We didn’t ask for another sibling, Dad”.

Ben went dead silent.

Ava inhaled sharply, her eyes widening. And Liv? Liv immediately regretted saying it.

Ben stepped closer, his entire body coiled tight, his jaw locked. “You better hope I don’t take that personally”, he muttered, his voice low, lethal.

Liv swallowed hard, shifting slightly on her feet, her bravado faltering just slightly. Ava, sensing that this was about to go too far, quickly interjected. “Okay, maybe we’ve been… a little difficult”, she admitted, voice cautious.

Ben’s sharp green eyes snapped to her.

Ava cleared her throat. “Uh—but—”, she held up her hands. “I mean… I guess we could do more”. Liv, seeing her only way out, immediately nodded. “Yeah. Sure”.

Ben narrowed his eyes. “Yeah?”, he muttered, still not convinced.

Liv nodded quickly. “Yeah. Totally. Love the baby. Excited to be big sisters. Gonna start folding laundry and doing dishes right now”. Ava nodded aggressively, backing toward the stairs. “Yep. We’ll, uh… we’ll get right on that”.

Ben let out a sharp exhale, rubbing a hand down his face as he turned away from his daughters, his patience fully fucking drained. His footsteps were heavy as he walked back to the living room, dropping down onto the couch beside you with a deep groan, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

You hummed softly, leaning into him as his fingers traced absentminded circles on your upper arm, his body still tense as hell. “Fucking shit", he muttered, head tipping back against the couch. “I cannot wait for school to start again”.

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “You’re awful”.

“No, I’m smart”, he grumbled, closing his eyes. “’Cause the second those little shits are outta the house for eight goddamn hours, I’m sleeping like a baby”.

You smiled, resting a hand over your belly, feeling the small movements beneath your palm. “You survived today”.

Ben let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “Barely”.

You sighed, tilting your head slightly to look up at him. “They’re teenagers, Ben”.

Ben scoffed. “Teenagers are assholes”.

You smirked. “You were a teenager once”.

Ben turned to you slowly, eyes dead serious. “Yeah, and I was a fucking asshole”.

You laughed, resting your head against his shoulder, feeling some of the tension in his body finally ease. For a moment, neither of you spoke. Just sat there, breathing, his arm secure around you, the weight of the day finally settling in.

Eventually, Ben exhaled deeply, his voice lower, quieter. “Where the fuck did I go wrong with them?”.

Your brows furrowed slightly, your fingers tightening around his wrist. “What?”.

Ben shook his head, staring at the ceiling like he was actually trying to figure it out. “I mean, fuck, they’re mine. But they act like they run this place”. His jaw clenched. “Like they own the goddamn world”.

Your throat tightened slightly. “Ben—”.

“I fucked up somewhere”, he muttered, rubbing a rough hand over his face. “Somewhere, I did something wrong, and now they’re just—”.

He stopped abruptly, inhaling sharply. Because just beyond the doorway, Ava and Liv stood there. And they had heard everything. Liv’s arms were stiff at her sides, her eyes dark, her jaw locked tight. Ava’s mouth was slightly open, her fingers curling around the railing, like she wasn’t sure if she was pissed or hurt or both.

And Ben? Ben froze.

You straightened up immediately, eyes flickering between all of them, the thick silence stretching over the room like a storm cloud.

“You think we’re a fucking mistake?”, Liv’s voice was sharp, filled with something dangerously close to betrayal.

Ben’s head snapped up. “What?”.

Ava’s lips pressed into a tight line, her shoulders tense. “That’s what you just said”.

Ben scowled, shaking his head. “No, it’s not—”.

“That you fucked up”, Liv spat, stepping forward, her anger cracking through her voice. “That we’re what you did wrong”.

Your chest tightened.

Ben’s expression hardened immediately. “I didn’t say that”.

Liv laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “Yeah? Sure as fuck sounded like it”.

Ben’s jaw locked, his frustration growing, his patience gone. “Oh, give me a fucking break”, he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “You do act like you run the fucking world, Liv”, He scoffed, shaking his head. “You and Ava. You don’t listen, you don’t respect—”.

“We didn’t ask to be like this, Dad!”, Liv snapped.

Ben’s mouth snapped shut. Your breath hitched.

Liv’s voice cracked slightly, but she didn’t back down. “You think we like being this way?”, she muttered, shaking her head. “You think we wanted to be half-supes? You think we don’t fucking hate it sometimes?”.

For the first time in months, you saw tears in Liv’s eyes.

She was angry, so angry, but beneath all that rage, beneath the fire and stubborn defiance, there was something else. Something raw. Something hurt. Ava looked exhausted too, but it was different. She always knew when to back down, when to let things go. But Liv?

Liv got so much more of Ben’s temper. So much of his fire, his stubbornness, his rage.

And right now, she looked like she was seconds away from shattering. Neither of them said anything else. They just turned on their heels, stomping up the stairs, disappearing into their rooms, doors slamming shut behind them. The house fell into a heavy silence.

Ben groaned, rubbing a hand down his face, dragging it over his jaw like he was physically trying to scrub away his frustration. “Oh, for fuck’s sake”, he grumbled.

You let out a slow breath, shaking your head, your fingers smoothing over your belly as you turned to him. “Ben…”.

He huffed, leaning back against the couch, his head tipping back, eyes shut. “What?”, he muttered.

“You hurt them”.

Ben’s jaw clenched. He didn’t respond right away, just sat there, processing, his fingers drumming against his knee.

Then, after a long pause— “They shouldn’t have heard it”, he muttered, voice rough.

You frowned, sitting up straighter. “That’s not the point”.

Ben let out a slow, sharp exhale, running both hands through his hair, gripping the back of his head. “I didn’t mean it like that”, he muttered, voice lower now, frustrated but not defensive.

“I know”, you said softly. “But they don’t”.

His jaw ticked. His fingers flexed against his scalp before dropping back into his lap. Another heavy silence settled over the room. “…You really think they hate being like this?”, he muttered.

You swallowed. “I think… they’re still figuring out what it means to be like this”.

Ben’s lips pressed into a thin line, his green eyes flickering toward the staircase, his thoughts clearly running in circles.

You sighed, reaching for his hand, wrapping your fingers around his palm, squeezing lightly. “They love you, Ben”, you murmured. “They just… don’t know how to be like you”.

Ben huffed out a short, humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “They shouldn’t be like me”.

You tilted your head slightly. “Why not?”.

His eyes darkened slightly, his expression tightening. “Because I was a piece of shit”, he muttered. “I had nothing but my fucking rage”.

You inhaled slowly. “…And Liv?”, you asked gently.

Ben sighed, rubbing his jaw. “She’s got too much of me in her”.

You squeezed his hand again. “Then maybe she needs you to show her how to handle it”.

Ben’s throat bobbed. He thought about that for a long moment, his eyes unfocused, his frustration starting to simmer down into something else. Something guiltier. Something regretful. He sighed again, shaking his head. “Fucking kids, man".

You laughed softly, nudging his shoulder. “You made them”.

Ben grinned, finally cracking just slightly. “Yeah, well, that was your fault”.

You rolled your eyes, leaning against him, his arm automatically sliding around your waist, his hand resting over your belly. After a moment, he exhaled deeply, staring at the ceiling. “…Guess I gotta go talk to her, huh?”.

You smirked. “Yep”.

Ben groaned, tipping his head back dramatically. “Fuck me”.

You just laughed, squeezing his thigh. “Go”.

Ben sighed, running a hand through his hair, giving you a long, exhausted look. And then, with another low grumble, he pushed off the couch and made his way up the stairs.

You stood up with a quiet sigh, making your way to the kitchen, letting Ben handle Liv. He was the only one who really could.

Even as a little kid, Liv had been the whole deal, tantrums, shattered glass, screaming until her throat was raw. She was fire, rage, and raw power wrapped up in a girl who had never quite known how to contain it.

Ben had trained them both for years, taught them how to fight, how to control themselves. But for the last three years, he had been gone more than he had been home, off on missions, leaving you alone with them, trying to manage their emotions, their abilities, their temper. But you weren’t a supe. You weren’t built for that. You were the part for cuddles, for singing them to sleep, for listening to them talk about school and rubbing their backs when they cried over a scraped knee. You weren’t the part for fighting. For keeping their powers and rage at bay. That was Ben’s part. And deep down, Liv knew that. So if anyone was going to get through to her, it was him.

As you moved around the kitchen, pulling out ingredients, prepping dinner, you let your mind wander, let the soft sounds of chopping vegetables and simmering oil drown out the quiet tension still lingering in the house.

But upstairs? Ben was walking straight to Liv’s room. His jaw was set, his expression unreadable as he reached her door. He didn’t knock. Didn’t ask to come in. He just pushed it open.

Liv sat on the edge of her bed, hunched over, her elbows resting on her knees, her fingers curled into fists against her thighs. She didn’t look at him. Didn’t acknowledge him. Didn’t move.

Ben exhaled through his nose, stepping inside, shutting the door behind him. For a long moment, he didn’t say anything.

“You think I regret having you?”.

Liv flinched. Her fingers curled tighter against her jeans, her throat bobbing slightly. Still, she didn’t look at him.

Ben sighed, running a hand through his hair before sitting down on the bed beside her. “You’re a pain in my ass”, he muttered.

Liv let out a short, breathy laugh, shaking her head. “Thanks, Dad”.

Ben smirked slightly, nudging her knee with his own. “Shut up, I’m talking”.

Liv sniffed, wiping her nose quickly with the back of her hand.

Ben exhaled again, rubbing a hand down his face before looking at her properly. “You scare the shit outta me sometimes”, he admitted.

Liv blinked, finally turning to look at him.

Ben’s gaze was sharp, but honest. “You’ve got my temper”, he muttered. “And my strength”. His jaw clenched. “And I know exactly where that can lead if you don’t know how to control it”.

Liv swallowed.

Ben shook his head. “That’s why I’m so fucking hard on you”, he said. “It’s not ‘cause I don’t love you, Liv. It’s ‘cause I do”.

Liv’s throat bobbed.

Ben exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “And yeah, I fucked up”, He shrugged, leaning back against the bedpost. “Left your mom to deal with all this alone when I should’ve been here. Should’ve been training you. Should’ve been the one making sure you weren’t losing your shit every five seconds”.

Liv bit her lip.

Ben smirked slightly, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. “I ain’t perfect, kid”.

Liv huffed, crossing her arms. “No shit”.

Ben chuckled, shaking his head. “See? That—that right there? That attitude? That’s all me”.

Liv laughed, sniffing slightly, rubbing at her nose again.

Ben’s smirk softened just slightly. “You’re a pain in my ass”, he muttered again, ruffling her hair roughly.

Liv groaned, swatting his hand away. “Dad—”.

“But you ain’t a mistake”, he muttered.

Ben’s supe hearing picked it up immediately, the softest shift of weight just outside the door, the slight hitch of breath, the hesitation. Ava.

He didn’t turn toward the door, didn’t call for her in a gentle, coaxing way like you might have. No, that wasn’t how he did things. Instead, he exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his hair, before muttering- "You too, asshole. Get in here".

There was a beat of silence, before Ava grumbled something under her breath, but sure enough, the door cracked open, and she stepped inside. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her expression blank, but Ben knew her well enough to see through it. She was feeling something. Something she didn’t know how to deal with. And that was an even bigger problem than Liv’s fire.

Liv felt everything. She exploded when she got angry, she yelled, she threw things. She was the storm you could see coming from miles away. But Ava? Ava bottled it up. Ava let it simmer, let it fester, until one day it would fucking erupt.

And Ben had seen what happened to supes who let their emotions boil over. He was one of them.

So he didn’t let her stand there, pretending she wasn’t feeling something. He gestured toward the bed. "Sit down".

Ava hesitated.

Ben’s sharp green eyes narrowed. "I said sit".

Ava sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes, but she did it—plopping onto the bed next to Liv, their shoulders brushing slightly.

Ben leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his gaze flickering between them. "You two are fucking exhausting".

Ava scoffed. Liv snorted.

Ben shook his head. “No, I’m serious”, he muttered, rubbing a hand down his face. “You both make me wanna put my head through a fucking wall”.

Liv chuckled under her breath, shaking her head. “Yeah, well, you’re not exactly easy either”.

Ben shot her a look. “Oh, don’t start”.

Ava smirked slightly, but her expression sobered quickly, her fingers curling slightly against the bedsheets. Ben noticed. Didn’t comment on it. But he saw it. So he sighed, leaning back, running his tongue over his teeth. “Look”, he muttered. “I ain’t gonna sit here and give you some soft-ass, sappy speech about how much I love you”.

Liv rolled her eyes. “Yeah, ‘cause that would kill you”.

Ben smirked slightly. “Fuckin’ right, it would”.

Ava let out a small, breathy laugh, shaking her head.

“But you know I do”, he muttered, his voice dipping lower.

Both of them froze.

Ben tilted his head slightly, his gaze flickering between them.

“I love you two little shits”, he muttered, voice gruff. “I don’t say it, but I don’t have to”. His jaw clenched. “Everything I do, every time I ride your asses, every time I get in your fucking way, every time I yell at you, it’s ‘cause I give a shit".

Liv swallowed. Ava didn’t move.

Ben exhaled sharply. “And I know I wasn’t here the way I should’ve been”, he muttered. “I know I let your mom handle too much on her own”. His fingers curled into fists. “And if I could go back and fix that, I would”.

Silence.

Ava inhaled slowly. “Dad…”.

Ben shook his head. “Nah. Let me finish”.

Ava bit her lip, but nodded.

Ben ran a hand through his hair again before exhaling. “You two?”. He pointed between them. “You mean everything to your mother. And whether you fucking like it or not, that means you mean everything to me, too”.

Liv blinked rapidly, looking away, sniffing. Ava’s jaw tensed. And Ben? Ben just watched them, letting his words sink in.

Ava muttered under her breath.

Ben’s eyes snapped to her. "What was that?".

Ava groaned, running her hands down her face. “I said we know”.

Ben smirked slightly. “Yeah?”.

Liv rolled her eyes, elbowing Ava lightly. “Yeah. We know”.

Ben let out a short breath, nodding, running a hand over his jaw. “Good”. Then he grinned, ruffling both of their heads aggressively.

Liv yelped, shoving his hand away. “Dad!”. Ava groaned. “You ruined it!”.

Ben just laughed, standing up. “I ruin everything, kid. Get used to it”.

Liv shook her head, but there was a small smile at the corner of her lips. Ava sighed dramatically, but she didn’t look nearly as tense anymore.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

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Part 3

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[bohemianblasphemy]

The need I have to write a soldier boy x reader is astronomical

I need that motherfucker like water

[girlblogging24]

Headcanons of a modern-day Soldier Boy ₊˚⊹♡

Distorted patriotism

Soldier Boy claims to love America, but his love is trapped in a version of the 1940s that no longer exists. He views the modern world with contempt, feeling that people are now "weak" and that everything that once represented the strength of his country has been lost.

✦ When he walks through the city and sees someone with brightly dyed hair, he can't help but mutter, "What the hell happened to real men?"

✦ Sometimes he sees modern soldiers and scoffs, "Back in my day, men went to war with a rifle and a pair o' brass balls, not these goddamn drones and spoiled-brat tech."

✦ But deep down, there's a part of him that knows he's outdated, that he doesn't fit in anymore. He hates it. And so he clings even tighter to his distorted view of what it means to be "American".

He hates modern music

If you try to play him some current pop or reggaeton, he will look at you with an expression of utter disgust. For him, music died after the 80s.

✦ "What the fuck is this crap?" he says when he hears a song with autotune. "This ain't music, it's a goddamn robot yappin'."

✦ If for some reason you end up in a place with modern music, he's going to be uncomfortable the whole time, muttering things like "I can't make out a damn word they're sayin'." or "Hell, at least they used to play real goddamn instruments."

✦ What he won't admit is that he's secretly found a couple of modern songs he doesn't dislike, but he'll never admit it. If you catch him listening to something that isn't classic rock, he's going to grimace and say "It's a fucking exception, okay?"

He thinks he's the toughest man, but he's an emotional wreck

To the world, Soldier Boy is the epitome of masculinity: strong, unstoppable, fearless. But the truth is that he has never learned to manage his emotions and his first reaction to any uncomfortable feeling is to suppress it with alcohol or violence.

✦ If you ever confront him with anything emotional, his first response is sarcasm. "What, you expect me to start talkin’ ‘bout my feelings like some damn hippie?"

✦ When he's alone and drunk, there are times when he drops the mask, when he stares at an old photo with a lost, vacant expression. But if someone sees him, he immediately pulls himself together and grunts something like "Ain't nothin', just got some damn dust in my eye."

✦ If he feel very strongly about someone, his instinct is not to say it, but to show it in awkward ways: making sure you eat, making sure you're safe, making sure no one screws you over. But if you try to talk about it, he'll cut you off with a snarl: "Alright, that's enough of that sentimental crap."

Problems with masculinity

Although he knows he is strong, invulnerable and a symbol of power, any suggestion that he is not “manly” enough makes him explode.

✦ If someone laughs at him for doing something "unmanly" (such as caring for someone or showing a modicum of vulnerability), his immediate reaction is violence. "You want to say that to me again, you bastard?"

✦ He hates feeling "weak" in front of a woman. If he is ever sick or hurt, he will try to pretend that everything is fine, even when it clearly is not. If you insist on taking care of him, he'll snarl at you: "I don't need nobody fussin’ over me like I'm some damn kid."

✦ But deep down, the problem is that he doesn't know how to exist outside of the role imposed on him. He doesn't know how to be a man without being ‘the strongest man in the room’.

He thinks he can keep drinking as before, but his body has changed.

After decades in suspended animation, his body is no longer quite the same, though he will never admit it.

✦ He pours himself a huge glass of whisky, downs it in one gulp, and almost immediately feels the dizziness. He frowns. It can't be. It can't be that the alcohol is hitting him so fast.

✦ But instead of accepting that his metabolism has changed, he gets angry at the drink. "This shit ain't like it used to be, they dilute it with water."

✦ He ends up hungover for the first time in his life and can't stand it. He lies there with one hand on his head, snarling, "If you say one word about this, I'll kill you."

✦ Despite everything, he continues to drink, continues to act as if nothing has changed. Because to accept otherwise would be to admit that he's not the same Soldier Boy he was before. And that terrifies him.

₊˚⊹♡

In short: Soldier Boy is a man trapped in the past, with a fragile masculinity disguised as toughness and a heart that, though he tries to hide it, is still capable of feeling...only in the most disastrous way possible.

₊˚⊹♡

[loomiseater]

HELP ME!!!

Can someone pls help me find this soldier boy fic that has multiple chapters. The plot is about a woman who has plant like powers and butcher recruited her to help take down homelander and in like the 1st or 2nd chapter soldier boy spends the night at her place. PLS PLS LMK IF U KNOW THE FIC NAME!! I only made it to like the 3rd chapter and took a break from reading it for a couple of weeks and now I can’t find it😢😢