#soldier boy ben
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tortureddarkstar · 2 days ago
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✩ PILLOWTALK
BOYS, THEY COME AND GO / / BUT SHE ALWAYS COMES BACK TO A LITTLE PILLOWTALK
soldier boy x fem!coded reader
18+ content. minors dni.
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thinking thoughts of soldier boy whispering the dirtiest words while he fucks you.
“yeah baby, you were just made for me weren’t you?”
“you feel that? yeah? that’s all me making you feel nice n warm in there.”
“fuckin’ perfect pussy.”
and when he’d hear you whimper out pleads and moans of gratitude goddd.
“what’s that sweets? harder?”
“only i fuck you this good, right?”
“no other dick could make you feel so good, huh? so fuckin’ warm.”
and even if he could feel you getting wetter at his words he’d need verbal confirmation, forcing a weak “only you, daddy” out of you.
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sllystupidfyodor · 2 months ago
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I want him to wiggle that beard on my coochie.
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agerefandomstuff · 2 months ago
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little soldier boy???
I think he'd be small but also have bigger ages? But if you could write about him being a small guy it be much appreciated!
Soldier Baby - Is it Him or the Drugs?
Content warning: not kids’ appropriate media. and has not been censored to be even though it involves sfw age regression.
(if you’ve watched The Boys you have an idea of what to expect from the characters’ vocab and personalities.)
Word count: 3175
Tags/warnings: Regressor Soldier Boy - Ben, Caregiver Billy Butcher, Hughie Campbell, poor hughie’s always bullied, Soldier Boy and Butcher accurate cursing and sexual jokes, general vulgarity, Ben being borderline racist/sexist/homophobic/ OUTDATED THINKING except I didn’t actually wanna make it as bad as he actually can be and I also don’t know how to be, anxiety, mentions of drugs and alcohol, mentions of violence, threats, insults, French fries dipped in frosties, if that’s something that disturbs you idk, my American attempt at writing a British man played by a Kiwi man, first time regressing, confusion, panic, misunderstanding, I don’t know, Ben commenting bad things about The Little Mermaid, Butcher being dumb, Butcher taking charge and being a dad, not beta read. Never beta read. I don’t know who I would be if it was beta read.
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Perhaps it was because he had taken too much. Or more likely Butcher gave him something laced since his body filtered out most drugs within minutes and he'd been feeling this way since he’d started yawning a couple hours earlier. His yawns started while watching dumb new century movies, one moment he was bitching to Hughie about how his generation relied too heavily on special effects instead of getting creative (like back in his day) the next he was getting asked when the last time he slept was. As if he was some toddler and not a grown fucking man who can occasionally yawn if he wants to damn it! Hughie might’ve been his “babysitter,” as Butcher titled it, when they were alone but he wasn’t a fuckin child for him to fuss over like some sniveling house wife.
“I’ve stayed awake for over a month before partying, kicking ass, and slinging pussy all while doing my damn job as a hero. Then I was asleep for decades because of Russian scum. This is nothing.” He growled at Hughie, the poor boy shaking like one of those fuckin rat dogs he use to see rich women carrying around at those mind numbing Vought galas. “I am not tired. And you'd be wise to stop assuming I was.”
Although if Hughie hadn't said something about it he probably would've put more thought into it. because… beyond just yawning he was feeling… uncharacteristically spacey, even though he really hadn't been awake long enough to excuse that. He hadn't been here for more than a week, right? Doesn't matter now. He was stubborn and would purposely not give it any more thought because Hughie was a cunt.
...that was until his eighth yawn of the day. It was like he was yawning all the time. He couldn't stop himself and at this point he wasn't even watching the movie let alone making his usual commentary. His mind was just focusing on fighting the yawns and the odd feeling in his mind. He couldn't remember a time he felt so unfocused like this. Even in his most fucked up state at the first Herogasm party he threw, he didnt feel this way.
It had gotten to the point that even Butcher had noticed once he had come back from his food run. However Butcher’s attention on him only fed into Ben’s theory that he’d been slipped something and they were just waiting for him to go down so they could do something to him. Maybe the food he’d brought just had more of whatever supe roofie was inside and they would use it to get a second dose in so they could drag him back to the Russians to be tortured again. Maybe they were working with the evil sons of bitches to turn him into this perfect weapon they wanted and this had all been a ruse to gain his trust.
“The fuck you lookin at?” He snapped out at Butcher but the man only raised his hands in surrender, not even putting up an argument which almost made him feel bad since he… had respect for the guy. He was a badass leader that did–albeit unintentionally–released him from his permanent cyro torture. Even if he was suspicious of him right now… He somewhat owed the man.
Also he was placating him with his favorite things. Drugs, trashy food, his own movies. Only things that would make his time better would be to not be spending it in this shithole hotel unless it was with a woman.
Or a few women.
Aged-like-wine women.
Maybe he was overreacting to this spacey-feeling bullshit.
He probably just needed to do a couple lines to get rid of the yawns and he would be good as new.
“Didn’t say nothin, mate. Calm yer pretty little ticker down.” Butcher responded, glancing down at his chest in warning, reminding them all what would happen if he didn’t get over whatever he was getting so defensive about. “Take some pills, take a nap fer all I care. Whatever keeps this buildin from shambles and our goals within sight.”
The nap line was really all he heard and it was definitely the worst thing to say. The bottle in his hand shattered between his fingers like it was nothing more than a breakaway and Hughie’s face drained of color in time with the beer that dripped down his arm.
Ben stood up his finger pointing at Butcher in a real warning, “Whatever the fuck you think you accomplished–whatever shit you roofied me with–it’s best you undo it right now before I turn your queer side piece into– into…” he couldnt even think of a clever threat. It's like his brain was completely malfunctioning leaving him to just angrily settle for a more embarrassingly simple correction. “Before I fucking kill him.”
The Brit raised his eyebrow as he had to take a second to actually will his mouth to hold back a sarcastic comment about the tongue trip, shockingly actually valuing their lives for once since he was so close to getting Homelander with Soldier Boy in his pocket. “A’right.. hold on now. I ain't got a clue whatcha accusing me of but we ‘aven't done it.” he closed his laptop softly, never taking his eyes off Ben the same way he would never take his eyes off a wild horse. “Why d’ya fink we roofied ya? Beyond the actual roofies yew requested, that is?”
His reaction made Ben second guess his theory again. He never second guessed himself like this. Even when he was wrong. And he sure as shit didn't share his feelings. Feelings were for pussies like Hughie. You didn't have feelings in war or at Vought. Yet…. he felt oddly compelled to answer Butcher’s question honestly and without more threats. He couldn't rationalize this strange compulsion other than maybe it was the way Butcher talked to him or managed to not be afraid of him. Or maybe it was because he was potentially slipped something–he still hadn’t ruled it out!
“I feel… wrong. My head ain't clear but everything I’ve taken should’ve worn off by now.” His hand dipped in the air like a physical indicator of his current lowering confidence and defenses which Butcher–in true Billy Butcher fashion–promptly took a shit on.
“Sounds like someone’s backed up. How boutcha go have a wank in the shower while we plug our ears and pretend we hadn’t noticed yer on edge?” Ben scoffed at the suggestion, his defenses rising back up. Butcher didn't get it. He didnt have blue balls, he had a fucked up head!
“No, you fuckin foreign– guy! ” this was really getting pathetic.. “I-it’s like… like–”
“Like PTSD…?” Hughie nervously piped up from where he was watching, still frozen to the couch. The other two men looked over at him and Ben opened his mouth to shut him down but hesitated. While he was actually kind of glad the little runt was taking him more seriously than Butcher had.. he also didn’t have an answer. He wanted to say no, I've seen shell shock, idiot. I don't have it! He wasn't really sure this time because he really didn't feel normal which was only making him feel more… antsy.
Picking up on his discomfort and hesitation, Butcher turned back towards Ben and watched him for a second, actually deciding to have a good look at him beyond his front of anger. He was tense but his body language was severely lacking its usual arrogant confidence. Like he wasn't comfortable within his own space right now. Once Butcher really looked, even his face, which normally lacked any expression beyond irritation, was practically screaming; I don’t know what’s going on! Someone fix it!
He’d seen that look more times than he could count in his life with his line of work but something about it reminded him more of a little kid than an adult in the middle of a PTSD episode. The look was similar to the one that made him call Hughie “kid” regardless of him being a full adult and insisting on it all the time.
He could see something in Ben right now that activated the part of his brain that had always taken care of Lenny as a kid.
The softer part of him that insisted he help the poor sod’s silent beg for help.
“Oi..kay, kid.” Butcher softened the gruffness in his tone and stood up from his seat at the table, snagging a bag of greasy fries and the frostie he had yet to dig into. “Let's get on then, yeah?” He slung an arm around Ben’s shoulder and led him back to the hotel bed in front of the TV he had long set up shop on.
Although still confused, Ben didn’t stop him. Instead following on autopilot while his mind still reeled with thought until his knees bumped against the mattress.
“No– I'm not tired. I told you I'm not tired–” had he told Butcher that or had he only yelled at Hughie today? “I’m not taking a damn nap–!” christ, he sounded like a whining child! Sleeping wouldn’t kill him for fuck’s sake! If the Russians hadn't figured that out after this many years surely they never would– unless they did. He didn't want to be tortured more– how long would it be before his mind broke for good? Before he died?
“No, y’ain’t so hush and stop yer worrying. Were jus’ gonna sit and eat the food I boughtcha before my money goes ta waste.” Ben looked surprised to have been effectively told to shut up and do what he's told but what he was most shocked about was the fact he didn't immediately get the desire to punch the shit out of him for having the audacity to do so. He just felt… odd. Like there were butterflies tying uncomfortable knots in his stomach. Like… it was almost nice to have a direction to go into so his thoughts would pause.
“Come on. Don’t make me wait. Fries ain’t neva last too long outside the frya.” Butcher pat his lower back, almost like he was a little kid getting encouraged forward and he listened. He crawled up onto the bed and sat in his spot looking at him with big eyes, clearly at a loss with the situation. He felt like he didn't know himself. This was a part of him he’d never experienced and he didn't know what to do, yet Butcher… seemed as at ease as ever. Like he’d dealt with a hundred men with nukes in their chests yelling at him.
Though he knew him longer than Ben did, even all Hughie could do was watch with the same odd mixture of shock and amazement when Butcher sat down beside the supe, tossed the fries between them, then changed the channel. No one had touched the remote since Ben had figured it out just enough to channel surf onto his own films. He had guarded that thing like a kid who found a new toy he didn't want to share.
“I.. was watching that.” Ben struggled to get out in a mumble that had never left his lips before.
“Won't spoil the ending for ya then, just say it ain't worth more than a prostitute that's got the clap.” Butcher casually informed him while he looked through the menu. The hotel, although shitty in every other aspect, actually had a Vought+ subscription, which begrudgingly had a pretty good selection. “Hughie, be a good lad for me an name a tolerable animation that aint Disney.”
“The Little Mer…maid..?” Hughie stuttered out, his brain automatically picking the last Disney movie he’d watched with him, too scared to really absorb the question.
“That’s Disney, Champ. Lookin fer somethin on Vought+”
“Oh. Right. Um..” He racked his brain for a moment trying not to mess this up and get his butt chewed by Soldier Boy later for choosing a movie he would hate sitting through. But the more he thought about everything the grumpy old man complained about when they were alone the less movies he could think of. In fact all he could think of was Ariel. Ariel.. Ariel, save me. Oh wait. “Isn't… isn't there a Disney princess section on Vought+ now?”
“Hn.. There is. Good thinkin.” Butcher cleared his throat a bit as he clicked on the movie then tossed the remote to reach for a fry, not paying attention to the way Ben was currently staring at him like he was an alien. “Redheaded broad it is.”
“Disney.. prin…cess? Like… the films for.. little brats..?” Ben slowly asked out, his voice not really feeling like his own with how insecure and… small it sounded. This all felt like a drug fueled dream. A really weird one, not one of the fun ones. Maybe he’d already fallen asleep and was back in some cyro-coma.
“Mmhm. Hughie likes em. Usually he leans more towards that lil boffin Belle over the glorified sushi princess but–”
“I like Ariel!” Hughie instantly defended but his cheeks went pink as he realized he meant to defend himself in a different way. Like one that might keep his reputation intact or keep himself from being relentlessly bullied by resident tough man, Soldier Boy. “I-I mean–” He gave Butcher an embarrassed, desperate look as he hissed out between his teeth a clear plea. “Butcher..! Come on..!”
Ben’s head swiveled between Hughie and Butcher feeling like he was missing out on something. He felt like that a lot recently since the world was so much different than it was back when he was last in it but this felt like he was out of the loop on something he should know.
“Why… why does Hughie like–” Before he could even finish his question, Butcher had slipped an ice cream dipped fry in his mouth, surprising him further. His reaction time was lacking, he hadn't even seen the man’s hand until it was too late. His senses were dulled. Could only imagine the foul shit his father would say if he saw him now.
“Film’s startin, kid, eat yer food.” Butcher spooned a mouthful of frostie into his own mouth with the grace expected of a grown man whose shirt was stained as much as it was and Ben watched him as he slowly followed instructions and chewed what had been given to him. His gaze flicked over to Hughie still trying to figure out what was going on but all Hughie was telling him was that he’d rather be swallowed alive by the couch than make eye contact with him.
The sound of water splashing alongside loud music on the tv stole his attention away from his less than stellar detective work and he watched for a few seconds as sailors began to sing. His brows furrowed and he turned to Butcher to protest and ask again about why the hell grown men would watch cartoons like this but the moment his mouth opened he was spoon fed some frostie. And while it was more careful than how the Brit had fed himself the action was aggravating. Ben looked at the Brit with an unhappy glare that probably looked more harmless than his usual happy expression if the rest of him looked as pathetic as he felt. But when he was given no attention from it he finally turned away to begrudgingly watch the stupid movie they insisted on making him watch instead of dealing with his problems.
Twenty minutes was all it took for Ben to be fully enraptured, his thought process having melted away with the colorful fish on the screen without his knowledge. Butcher had kept a casual eye on him after he’d realized he was dropping, mildly worried that the loose cannon might start to get anxious again if he broke out of his distraction. It was a little rockier at the start of the movie when he was still incredibly uneasy with the situation and unhappy with having been fed twice without permission; however Butcher was stupid and confident. An that’s what got ‘im this far in life, right?
So sue him if he let himself feel a bit smug as Ben obliviously settled into this new headspace, watching the movie as if it were the most interesting thing he’d ever witnessed. The only time he occasionally turned away from the screen was for the brief moment it would take to be spoon fed another bite being offered. Nothin beat the tried and true combination of an age regression classic an comfort food t’keep someone perfectly satiated in a headspace, eh?
Kid would barely wait to swallow before pointing at the screen to yell something about it because he was trying so hard to listen after having been told “ta swallow ‘is food ‘fore speakin,” but still NEEDED to give his commentary on everything since at his core he was still Ben. He might be acting younger but he was still who he was for better or for worse. And that included movie commentary.
Ben: “That crab is such an ass-munch! I mean look at him! He’s practically makin out with King Trident’s butt.”
Butcher: “His name’s Sebastian, you’ll like him more later on, bud.”
Ben: “I don’t like commies.”
Butcher: “Now why’dja go an call the poor ol bastard that?”
Ben: “He’s red.”
Butcher: “That don’t mean… he’s a crab, mate.”
Ben: “And? Crabs can be commies.”
Hughie: “That’s weirdly the most inclusive thing I’ve heard you say.”
Ben: “Hell yeah King Trident!”
Hughie: “You can't cheer for him, he just destroyed his daughter’s most prized collection!”
Ben: “Uh yeah. She didn't do what he said so she earned it. And she was probably kissin on that statue like a weirdo. Anyway he looked cool doing it.”
Butcher: “An how’dja know she was doin that?”
Ben: “I dunno.”
Hughie: “Ariel wouldn't kiss a statue!”
Ben: “Shut up, Hughie, you don't know that!”
Hughie: “Yes, I do! I’ve watched this movie more than you!”
Butcher: “Boys.”
Hughie: “Sorry..”
Ben: “Well I’m not sorry.”
Once the junk food was gone, Ben started his yawns again but Butcher counted himself lucky that his anxiety didn't notice them this time since that was the only thing he could guess set him off earlier. That or he just took too much while he was gone and got paranoid. Supe was a nutcase anyhow and Butcher probably trusted him even less than Hughie did.
Near the end of the movie though was when the brick of a man made himself comfortable against Butcher’s side and without making it a big deal, the infamous bloke wrapped his arm around his shoulder to pull him in tight. He was softer than he looked. Maybe that level of comfort he was providing was why Ben’s aggressive commentary died away before he could give a final scathing review and instead slipped asleep the moment the next movie started. But Ben would certainly deny that to anyone that brought it up. Including his own thoughts. He’d rather blame those supe-special roofies he never confirmed.
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bittersweetarts · 1 year ago
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How to Disappear - Chapter 4
Soldier Boy (The Boys) x OC
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Word count: 3132 words
Summary: Eden Reid can't help her curiosity, and Soldier Boy can't help but take advantage of that curiosity.
WARNINGS: Swearing, minor violence
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - AO3 Page
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Chapter 4: Talk
“Good morning princess. Tea or coffee?”
Eden’s body was sore, and her neck and arms ached. The room was cold, like a freezing cold you could feel in your bones, and as Eden’s vision returned and sharpened, she found herself in an unwell-lit, vacant windowless room, and stood in front of her were two figures; an average-looking curly-haired Joe, and the large, dark-haired, bearded man who had attacked her in her home.
Immediately Eden tried to stand, adrenaline now coursing through her veins, but she found herself restrained, with one of her hands handcuffed to a pipe behind her. This would not be a problem, but as she kept roughly pulling, trying to break out of the cuffs or to break the pipe, her wrist started to hurt, and after thrashing about for too long, Eden noticed that her strength was missing. An annoying foreign accent, feigning friendliness, brought Eden’s attention back to the men in front of her.
“I’m guessing neither tea nor coffee.” Eden ignored him, continuing her futile efforts to break free.
“Careful not to hurt yourself, love. You’ve got more than yourself to think about now.”
“What the fuck have you done to me?”
Eden’s tone was filled with venom, angry that her powers were gone. As she spoke, she stared up to the pair, and she noticed how the lankier man was nervous in comparison to the foreign one, and she intended to take advantage of this.
“Nothing permanent, don’t worry. Just a little concoction to keep you at bay, but we aren’t going to hurt you, as long as you don’t give us a reason to.”
“Well, you’re doing a fucking fantastic job, assholes.”
As Eden sarcastically responded she raised her handcuffed hand, which were already tender. Eden now noticed that she wasn’t wearing the office clothes she remembered putting on last, but a black sweatsuit set that she had gotten cheap from Target the previous winter.
Kidnapped, stripped and drugged – what else have they done to me? Eden thought panicked.
Realizing the dire situation she was in, Eden quickly switched up her attitude, and instead of thrashing about, she pulled up her knees and placed her head on them, looking up at the two men, face flushed, letting her eyes water from the very real fear she was feeling now.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean it. Please, just let me go. I don’t know what you want, but you don’t seem like bad men. I don’t have much, but I’ll withdraw everything from my account, you can have it all, I won’t say a single word to anyone. Please, just let me go.”
Eden’s voice cracked as she finished, choking down a sob.
Eden was scared, and if there was one lesson she learned from the Supe conflict resolution course that she took for one semester in college, it’s that she needed to gain the sympathy of her kidnappers, and she needed to capitalize off of her fear to do so. Unfortunately for her, in contrast with the lankier guy, the dark-haired man in charge was not fooled by her theatrics, and clapped as he spoke.
“I can see why he fancied you, love. You are a real damsel, a lady like Vivien Leigh, and the face for it too. Sadly, we’re not in Hollywood.”
“We aren’t going to hurt you Eden, we’re really not the bad guys – ”
Eden was waiting for the smaller man to speak, and immediately turned to him, with her brown hair falling on her face.
“So please then, just let me go.” Eden pleaded directly to her target, who she stared at with rounded eyes.
“Hughie, the pamphlets.”
The dark-haired man ignored Eden’s pleas, and turned spoke to the other man with a definitive tone. Apprehensively ‘Hughie’, took a bag that was on the table next to them – Eden’s bag. The young girl’s stomach turned as she saw him rummage and pull out some familiar papers.
“Stop, who do you think you are? What right do you have to do any of this?” Eden pleaded again.
“I’m Butcher, this here is Hughie. Fabulous, we’re all introduced. Now, how about we tell you what we know about you, and you can fill in the blanks. Your birth name is Eden Michelle Reid, twenty-five years old, blood type B, Capricorn, so you’ll be turning twenty-six soon, happy early birthday.”
The man paused for a moment, as though waiting for a response, but Eden said nothing, and stared with hatred at him.
“Clever girl, got into Godolkin University despite having not very extraordinary super abilities. You were never going to be in The Seven, that’s for sure. The charts say super strength, but it’s not the strongest, at least based on your assessment reports. That’s maybe why you dropped out, and ended up living in some random city in Jersey, working as a receptionist and not making very much. But it’s an honest life, and I can respect you for that.”
Eden looked up at the man, her face frowning. The man turned back to the table, picking up a file with papers, and taking them out to show Eden as he continued speaking. The first paper showed CCTV pictures of a dressed-down Soldier Boy, driving her Mazda, its car plate number clear as day.
“… what we cannot figure out is how Soldier Boy came into the picture. You’re a woman who lives a relatively remote, no social media presence for the past five years. Your manager thinks you’re shy, your co-worker considers you a bitch, the doctors at your clinic praise you, meanwhile it feels like practically no one else knows you. So, love, how did such a lone wolf meet Soldier Boy?”
Feeling the violation of her privacy, with a clenched jaw, Eden answered.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t play dumb, love. It’s not a good look on you.”
The man then took the papers from Hughie, and dropped them onto the ground near Eden, one-by-one, pictures of Eden from the past weeks, at her workplace, arms wrapped around Felix, their last kiss, pregnancy advice pamphlets, and her results. Eden felt sick, and the only reason she wasn’t throwing up was because she had physically nothing in her stomach.
“Congratulations by the way, a miraculous conception given the IUD. This ain’t the baby shower you imagined, but desperate times call for desperate measures.”
“And we’re trying to save people.” Hughie blurted out, as though he were searching what to say, and evidently said the wrong thing, based on the look the other man gave him.
“That’s what you’re doing? Saving people by stalking, attacking, kidnapping and drugging a pregnant woman?” Eden said spitefully, chin up in defiance.
“Well, love, we won’t have to do any of that if you listen. We only need one thing from you, and then you can be on your merry way. We don’t need to harm you – in fact,” Butcher declared. “… if you promise not to hurt us, we’ll uncuff you, after you do one little thing for us.”
“You’ll remove this?” Eden suspiciously asked, eyes narrowed.
“Consider it a gesture of good faith. We can’t let you go right now, hope you understand, but if all goes well, you’ll be out of here in no time.” Butcher answered in a lighter tone, while Hughie looked at Eden with guilty, pleading eyes.
Eden weighed her options, but her current physical predicament was uncomfortable, and if she was going to be here for some time, might as well reduce the miserable-ity she has to endure. Defeatedly, she responded.
“What do you want?”
With a smile, Butcher answered, whipping out a phone from the pocket of his jeans. Eden’s phone.
“Nothing crazy. Just a little phone call to one of America’s favorite historic heroes.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Eden flawlessly lied between her teeth, but it fooled no one.
“Eden darling, here we were being honest with one another.”
“We were there when he called you …”
Hughie interrupted, going on his knees and sorting through the papers in front of Eden. If she had wanted to, Eden could have grabbed him by the hair, made him bleed, but she didn’t. Instead, she watched as he sorted through the documents and photographs, before pulling out photographs of her on the phone, on the night that Soldier Boy called her. Eden had felt eyes on her that night, and other others, but she dismissed it for paranoia. She felt like slapping herself for doing so.
“… and intercepted the call, we heard it all. Please don’t make me play the recording.” Hughie finished, with apologetic eyes
Eden felt overwhelmed and had to lean against the wall to stabilize herself. Even though it was the Butcher-man that was not as nice to her, something about Hughie made her feel vulnerable, maybe because unlike the bearded-man, Eden could tell that Hughie was good.
“But it’s not his.” Eden said meekly, as though she were trying to convince not the two other men, but herself.
“Ah, yes, Felix, the new boyfriend. See love, I don’t care if you are carrying his baby, or your little boyfriend’s, or if it’s the spawn of Satan.”
Eden ignored the bearded man, and continued, looking only at Hughie.
“Felix is going to notice I’m gone, we see each other every day, and he’s got family in the force. The clinic will notice I’m missing, I always tell them when I take a day off. Please Hughie, just let me go now and I won’t breathe a word about this to anyone.” The pleading didn’t work though, as Hughie looked to the ground, avoiding Eden’s stare.
“Do you really think we wouldn’t tie loose ends? Your boyfriend already thinks that you’re driving back home – that’s a two day drive, mind you – and we’ve texted him that you need space. You’ve also taken a sabbatical leave from work, resignation email sent last night, and your car – which is shitty by the way – is also parked elsewhere now, for safe-keeping of course. Are we missing anything?”
As Butcher finished, he seemed pleased with himself and the work that evidently his team (a larger one than just the two of them, Eden deduced) made. Eden, on the other hand, felt defeated, and meanly spoke up to him, chin tilted upwards in temerity.
“You’re just like him, you know? You and Soldier Boy.”
“We’re nothing alike, love.”
“You’re selfish and use people to get what you want. I’m surprised you guys aren’t friends.”
A knowing look flashes before Butcher’s eyes whilst Hughie’s eyes widen, and that was enough to confirm Eden’s suspicions that they all, at the very least, knew each other from before.
“Frankly, your opinions don’t matter to me, princess.” The large man paused for a moment, before coming closer to Eden, putting her phone between them.
“I’m calling now, it’ll be on speaker phone, so use your voice.” As the dark-haired man unlocked Eden’s phone and began swiping on it, Butcher quickly spoke again.
“And maybe don’t mention your boyfriend – Benny Boy’s of the jealous kind, and Felix isn’t a Supe. Understand what I’m getting at.”
Eden didn’t get an opportunity to respond, because as Butcher finished, the phone, on speaker, began to ring, and rang only once before it was answered, and a deep voice echoed through.
“Morning doll, what do I owe the pleasure.”
From the other side, Eden could hear TV noise in the background. It was silent for a heartbeat, and the tension in the room was palpable. Butcher cleared his throat, kneeling over even closer and bringing the phone nearer to Eden; the brunette nervously spoke up on impulse.
“Ben.”
“Eden, what’s wrong?”
“Ah, fantastic, you guys are on a first name basis. This hopefully makes things faster for us. Eden love, will you tell him, or should I?” Butcher didn’t give Eden much of an opportunity to decide. “Oh, I can���t keep the secret any longer ¬– Eden is pregnant, and guess who’s the daddy?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Soldier Boy’s tone drastically shifted, cold and calculated now, like how it was the night he woke up in the cabin. Eden forgot that he spoke like, and she felt like she was having an out-of-body experience, observing the moment like an audience watches a stage.
“Well, if you don’t know, then I guess Eden here probably got knocked up by someone else. My mistake, I’m only human after all. We’ll have to dispose of her though, since she’s of no use.” Butcher declared, and Eden sensed no lie in his speech.
“You’re bluffing, you guys don’t hurt innocents, not when it’s unnecessary.” Soldier Boy responded, his voice sounding like he was speaking through clenched teeth. Butcher however found delight in this and answered almost joyfully.
“But Eden here is not innocent from where I’m standing. She’s a Supe for one, and she’s also helped you, a far cry from a regular old civilian. And who knows what she gets up to in her spare time.” Successfully baited, Soldier Boy immediately reacted, threatening in his usual hostile cadence.
“Don’t fucking touch her, don’t even fucking look at her. A single fucking scratch on Eden, and I’ll make sure to painfully kill not only each and every one of you, but also your entire families. Goldilocks’ mom, I’ll skin her, and I’ll do the same to your entire crew. But your wife’s boy, my bad, your ex-wife’s boy, will be the first name on my list.”
Soldier Boy’s tone was venomous, but rather than being frightened, Eden found herself even more detached from herself, stunned completely.
“Listen here, Ben. There is no place on this Earth from Homelander two-point-O. If you do as I say though, I may just let Eden go unscathed. What do you say, granny-fucker?”
The phone was silent, and Eden thought that maybe Soldier Boy decided to hang-up and leave Butcher to do as he threatened. As Eden watched him, she realized that the lanky man, Hughie, was gone, but she hadn’t even noticed him leave.
Was it because Butcher was telling the truth, and he intended to murder her if Soldier Boy didn’t agree to his demands. The thought of dying the death she was imagining made Eden’s eyes uncontrollably water, and tears started streaming continuously as her sinuses became congested. And the dark-haired man before her noticed this immediately.
“Eden love, don’t cry. Tears aren’t good for the baby.” Butcher loudly pronounced, entirely calculated, and from the other line, Soldier Boy’s voice returned, filled with colorful swearing.
“Fuck you, bastard – are you fucking deaf? A fucking imbecile, that’s what you are. Cheer her the fuck up, and if you make her fucking upset again, I’ll shove a gun so far up your asshole that when I pull the trigger, you’ll explode like a fucking pinata.”
Butcher only rolled his eyes, before responding.
“Sure thing Benny, but you see, I don’t give a fuck. Do whatever you want, but if you don’t do as I say, then Eden here will soon be returning to her namesake, I promise you.”
Still detached, Eden thought maybe she vaguely heard Soldier Boy repeatedly swear some more, even more loudly this time. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Calm down Ben, you can have your Eden back, you just need to do one thing for me, just one job.” Butcher spoke over the ex-American hero, until he became quiet.
“All we’ve got to do, is take out congresswoman Neuman.”
“The brown bitch on TV? I’ll get it done on my own. Just fucking let Eden go.”
“It’s not that simple. She’s the head popper.”
“The head-what?”
“The head popper, the moment she sees you, it’s game over, distance doesn’t matter. She’ll burst your old wrinkly brain before you think another thought, just like how you burst your pimples as a teen, and she can do it to anyone.”
“I’d be stupid to help you then, not to mention that you stabbed me in the back.” Soldier Boy’s voice echoed through the room. Eden, still detached from herself, was staring wide-eyed at the ground.
“You think Eden’s baby will ever be safe? The baby is half you, and it’s only a matter of time before people, including Neuman, find out and target it. These people have no fucking moral qualms about killing babies, they’ve killed and ruined countless already, and babies are easier to manage than adults.”
As Butcher responded, he started to kneel over closer to Eden, and stared at her with a burning gaze.
“… and I’ll throw in a final treat. After this is over, I’ll let you kill me.” Soldier Boy laughed before responding, and his laughter bounced off the walls, a perfect manly laugh for the supposedly perfect man
“And the others?”
“Consider it a temporary truce, which ends as soon as the job is done, and our interests are no longer aligned.” The bearded-man responded, and Eden could feel his musky breath on her skin. The room is silent for a few moments, before Soldier Boy’s answer echoes in the room
“Fine. But I get Eden back, immediately.”
“I can arrange for that; we’ll be working together after all.” Butcher responded obligingly with a smirk, and Soldier Boy ignored him.
“Pass the fucking phone to Eden, right now.”
Eden was still sat speechless and hallow, staring wide-eyed at the ground, and as Butcher brought the phone closer to Eden, the only thing Soldier Boy could hear was her shallow breathing. Butcher let out a humorless chuckle before responding.
“The Mis'ess doesn’t seem to want to talk to you. Oh well, you’ll have plenty of time to catch up. Tomorrow, three pm, world's largest frying pan, North Carolina. Alone.”
Not giving Soldier Boy time to respond, Butcher hung up and threw the phone across the room, shattering it into fragmented bits, before stepping closer to Eden and unlocking the cuffs. Eden was vacant as this happened though, and as soon as her hand was free, it dropped to the side.
“Sorry ‘bout the phone, love. We’ll get you a replacement.” Eden didn’t respond, and Butcher let out an exasperated sigh.
“There’s breakfast and a magazine on the table, and you can rest on the sofa. When you need the loo, give a shout. There’s someone outside.”
Eden still stared at the ground, and despite Butcher’s cold-heartedness, he still felt pity for her, and leaned down, hoping she’d turn to face him.
“Chin up, mama. You’ve gotta stay strong and look after yourself, because there’s two of you now.”
Eden still sat motionless, and giving up, Butcher walked out the room, picking the fragments of the broken phone on his way out.
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Author's Note: I've got a busy week ahead of me, so please bare with me if the next update takes some time
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– Chapter 5 (WIP)
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little-wicked10 · 2 days ago
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Soldier Boy and Butcher being Dads🩵
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Summary: Little glimpse into the beginning of The Boys going domestic.
Warnings: fluffy fluff, cursing, Ben’s outdated way of thinking.
Notes: This blurb kinda came out of an idea of Ben reacting to Butcher’s daughter pushing his son. Butcher as a girl dad feels right😍, and Ben being an over involved boy dad feels right up his alley.
//
“Oi! Oi! Welcome, Welcome!” Butcher called out from the living room.
A delightful giggle of a little girl followed the Brit’s booming voice.
“Hey! Where should we set the beer?” She called out.
Ben held up two cases of 24-packs as he walked in behind his girl and son, setting them on the counter once they reached the kitchen. Butcher and his lady invited the Boys over for a BBQ. Something surprisingly domestic for the group, but that’s what happens when kids come into the picture. It would have been surprising that Butcher was the first to be expecting a child if the team hadn’t been witness to the child’s conception.
A few months later, Soldier Boy found out he was going to be a father. His happiness only grew when a few weeks later he found out they were having a boy. Like any real man, Ben couldn’t contain his excitement in the doctor’s office. Shadow boxing and acting like he just went 10 and 0 with Muhammad Ali. Ben couldn’t help but rub it in a little that he was having a boy and Butcher was expecting a girl. Ben was a proud father, and the team let him gloat.
“Go hang out with the boys, baby. I’m gonna catch up with Annie. I haven’t seen her in forever,” She pecked Ben’s lips before handing over their son.
Ben took his son in his arms and walked into the living room. Butcher, Frenchie, MM, and Hughie sat around the large living room. Butcher’s little girl, Amelia, was playing in the middle of the floor, controlling the atmosphere around her. The little toddler was playing at her dad’s feet, decorating his boots and bottom of his jeans with stickers and little toys as he drank a beer and chatted away. Upon inspection, Amelia was making her way around the room as Frenchie and Hughie already had some pretty bedazzled sneakers.
“There ‘e is! ‘ow’s father’ood treatin’ ya, guv?” Butcher asked.
“Good since I’m not being bossed around by a two year old in a princess dress,” Ben huffed as he sat on the couch.
Ben set his son, Connor, on the ground and gave him a couple little army guys to play with. It was obvious that Ben didn’t want his kid playing with Amelia’s toys, or any girl toys, because he’d be damned if his son ended up a pussy. While his better half has tried to tell him that’s not how it works, he still held on to that belief.
“Dada!” Amelia grinned widely.
Butcher leaned forward and looked down at his boots, “Well, looky ‘ere! That’s beautiful, princess! Even got me favorite color an’ everythin’. Why don’t ya see if Uncle MM wants some stickas. Ay?”
He gave her a big bear growl and hug as he kissed her chubby little cheek and squeezed her. Amelia squealed and giggled as she held onto the man’s face, his facial hair tickling wherever he kissed. Once she was free, she gathered up her many sticker books and little backpack full of toys and scooted over to MM.
“Make sure to use a lot of purple. Unc M loves purple,” MM leant over to look at the many options the toddler laid out.
“Why do ya let her do that? All that glitter seems like a pain in the ass,” Ben arched a brow.
“Ass,” Amelia repeated.
They all tried to stifle a laugh at her little voice saying a cuss word.
“No cussin’, mate. Melia’s been repeatin’ everythin’ and me Missus don’ find it as funny as I do,” Butcher explained.
Connor toddled his way over to Amelia on the rug. She was flipping through butterfly stickers when the little boy sat next to her, tracing a finger over a super glittery one that caught his eye. “What’s Connor saying these days?” Hughie asked.
“Dada is his favorite right now,” Ben’s chest swelled with pride.
“Bet that drives ya lady up the wall,” Butcher chuckled as he watched his daughter.
Ben glanced down to see his little boy looking at Amelia’s toy bag, “Connor, buddy, play with your own toys.
Before the supe could chastise his son any more, a beer appeared in front of his face with a soft hand on his shoulder. He looked up at his lady with a smile and a sweet peck as he took the cold drink. Her eyes flicked over her little boy to make sure they were fine before giving her man a warning glance, “He’s fine, babe. He can play with her stuff. I’m sure Amelia won’t mind. You should let them spruce up your crocs.”
She ran her fingers through Ben’s hair before heading back into the kitchen. Ben scoffed as he sipped his beer and continued talking to the group. “How do you have the audacity to talk any kind of smack when you’re wearin’ crocs, man?” MM asked.
“I’m hanging out with you assholes not the Queen of fuckin’ England. Don’t need to break out the top and tails,” Ben rolled his eyes.
“Fuckin’,” Amelia repeated in a loud accent that sounded just like Butcher.
Butcher couldn’t keep in the loud bark of laughter.
Amelia’s eyes lit up with glee when she made her father laugh, “Fuckin’!”
Her face was even happier as the living room burst into laughter.
“William Butcher!”
“Fuckin’!” Amelia yelled.
Butcher winced at his full name but still wiped the tears away from his eyes, “Amelia! Baby, don’…don’ say that!”
When the toddler yelled it again, they all lost their minds and fell over on the couch. Butcher called for his daughter who happily went over to her laughing dad. Through his fit, he tried to tell her not to say that, it was a bad, all that stuff, but the look in her eyes said she didn’t care. It was locked in her mind that, that word made her daddy laugh.
“She’s just like you! Why did I have children with you?!?” The cussing toddler’s mom screeched.
“Can’ answer that in front of the kiddies, love,” he snickered.
An annoyed groan came from the women in the kitchen. Amelia had run back to her toys, helping Connor rummage through her little bag for something else to do. Ben would have said something, but he stopped himself when Connor picked up some of his army guys scattered around to start placing on MM’s shoes. He couldn’t help the little bit of relief he felt. After all the shit he’s seen of this new world, the last thing he wanted was for Connor to grow up to be some long haired pussy.
A while later, the ladies joined their men in the living room, watching tv, chatting, and letting the kids play. Terror had made himself at home on the floor and was now getting all the attention the bulldog craved. Connor lined up his toys along the outside of the dog’s body while Amelia was still going sticker crazy. Terror was content to be an active participant in their play time, checking every sticker Amelia picked out for him with a sniff and staying stock-still as to not knock over any of Connor’s toy wall.
“That’s one good dog,” Annie admired.
“Ain’t he though?” Butcher grinned.
“Terror was a a cry baby when he realized all the stuff we got for Amelia wasn’t for him. I caught him so many times in that baby swing,” Butcher’s lady laughed, “Now he’s like one of those nanny dogs.”
“I keep saying we should get a dog. Look how much Connor loves it,” Ben pointed out.
“I can barely get you to change diapers. I’m not dealing with a baby and a puppy,” she was quick to cut him off making the group laugh.
They didn’t know when it happened, but at some point, the toddlers decided to play chase. They screamed and squealed joyfully as they ran around into circles with Terror chasing them around and barking. It was a little grinding on the ear drums but as long as no one was crying, the adults were happy. Hysterical laughter would ring through every time Frenchie and Kimiko pretended to grab at them when they would pass by.
A few years ago, this happy family portrait would have been a laughable fever dream to all of them. They still had their wild and crazy moments when duty called or they needed to let off some steam.
Connor decided he was done running and wanted to look in the toy bag again. He once again waddled over to the bag and rummaged around before finding a little toy horse. Amelia stopped running when she noticed Connor had been touching her things without her supervision. The sass radiating off that child as she B-lined towards the boy wasn’t to be trifled with. In one swift motion, she yanked the toy from Connor’s hands and pushed him with an angry whine. Connor fell on his butt and instantly started to cry.
“Amelia Butcher!”
“Hey!” Ben snapped.
The little girl jumped in fear as her mother and Uncle Ben snapped at her. If it had just been her mother, she wouldn’t have given a second thought to sassing her, but Ben’s voice was much scarier. Fat tears welled in her eyes, and she flopped on the ground to start crying as well.
“Oi! Don’ yell at my kid!” Butcher suddenly stood up off the couch to scoop up his daughter.
“Ben, it’s okay. You don’t need to yell,” she tried to calm her man, “I’m sorry.”
Ben stood up and picked up his son, irritation evident on the man’s face as he tried to console the upset boy. The look on the supe’s face said his pride was hurt by what happened. Ben was so proud that his first kid was a boy, and anything that came close to threatening his “master” plan of raising a strong man upset him. The problem is he can’t tell an almost two year old to be a man, so she catches him micromanaging things like making sure he plays with boy toys. The love that comes with fatherhood was slowly changing his mindset, but there were days when he slipped back into old habits.
Amelia was latched on to her daddy like a koala as fat tears rolled down her cheeks. It was one thing for parents to yell, but another adult? An adult that was supposed to be the fun adult? Bring on the waterworks. Butcher pet and kissed her head of dark hair as he carried her into the kitchen to get a little treat. Her mother rolled her eyes with a small smile as she watched him spoil their daughter instead of punish her for being naughty. The second Amelia turned on the tears, Butcher would have to fight for his life to not crumble.
When Ben saw the look on her face, he knew he was in for an earful. He sighed in defeat as he followed her to the next room. Within the privacy of a guest bedroom, she let him have it, “Just because your son gets pushed over by a little girl, doesn’t give you the right to yell at her!”
“But why didn’t he like…push her back?” Ben asked irritated, “Why’d she have to push him?”
She groaned, “They’re babies, Ben! Babies! Barely two! Playing with stickers and dolls is not gonna turn him into a pussy, and certainly losing one little toddler tantrum won’t make him one either.”
Connor absentmindedly played with his own hair in one hand and Ben’s in the other, like he was comparing them while his parents were arguing about him. Ben cast his eyes down to the floor, tiny bit of guilt creeping in. He didn’t mean to make Amelia cry, but it was hard to reign himself in when it came to Connor.
“I know all of this is because you want to be a good father,” she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, making him look at her, “You are a wonderful father…when you get out of your head.”
Ben slowly nodded, “Just want him to be the best. I don’t want him to be affected by all this…shit.”
“Raising children has changed, big guy. While we’re both figuring out parenthood, you gotta trust me when I tell you stuff is done differently,” she explained, “And you can’t yell at someone else’s kid like that. Especially not our friends’ kids. Ya gotta let them parent their child and step in when ours is involved somehow.
Ben nodded, “I know…just lost my cool. I didn’t mean to scare Amelia. I kinda feel bad now.”
“You should. Soldier Boy shouldn’t make babies cry,” she teased, “Now go apologize for real.”
Ben sarcastically groaned before smirking, “Alright. Anythin’ for you, doll.”
The couple kissed before exiting the bedroom to re-enter the living room. Ben handed Connor to his mother, and he walked over to Butcher standing in front of Amelia who sat on the kitchen counter with a little spoon trying to dip into a container of ice cream.
“Hey, Butcher, ‘m sorry. Lost my cool and I shouldn’t have,” Ben stood up straight like a man and owned up to his mistake, “They’re babies and uh…gotta remember that.”
“S’alright, mate,” Butcher accepted, “We’re all learnin’. Just don’ let it happen again.”
The supe nodded. That was that.
Ben looked to Amelia who shrunk away from him and grabbed for her daddy. Butcher wrapped an arm around his little girl as she stood on the counter and tangled her arms around his neck, her little face buried in his neck.
“Melly Belly,” Ben cocked his head as he saw her peak up at the nickname, “‘M sorry, sweetheart. Uncle Ben didn’t mean to scare ya.”
She rubbed her face back into Butcher’s neck who chuckled, “I wonda’ if my Melly has some stickas she might wanna give ‘er Uncle Ben.”
She poked an eye out.
Ben swallowed his frown, this was all part of being a dad/uncle and he could take it, “Ya think ya got some blue ones?”
Amelia swiveled her head to reveal her face and nodded.
Ben shot the group daggers as he was hunched over being led back into the living room by the little girl.
“She’s a bossy little thing,” Ben groaned as he sat down on the couch.
“Gets it from ‘er mum, she does,” Butcher joked before being hit by his better half.
Across the room, Connor became fussy in his mom’s arms to be put down to join the play. The little boy rushed over into his dad’s waiting hands and giggled as he was picked up and set in Ben’s lap, “There’s my lil’ man!”
Connor pushed his hands on Ben’s face to make him make funny faces. Ben scrunched his features and made funny expressions. He was fully aware of the eyes on him. Soldier Boy dropping the macho act and acting like a real dad.
“Wanna help Melly with dada’s shoes?” Ben asked.
“Ye-th!” Connor said through his fingers in his mouth.
As Connor was set on the floor, she came and sat next to Ben to snuggle into his side. The tone changed back to a happy gathering. Friends talking and joking as they drank and entertained the little ones running around. Life was good. Life was full of life. For a team that banded together over death, they had found an ending full of life.
//
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If anyone has any ideas, message me!
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shamrockqueen · 2 years ago
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Dark room
Pairing : Soldier Boy Ben x Monsteress Supe Reader
Warnings : drugging, drug use, drug eating, semi public sex, cowgirl on the floor, tearing clothes, long tongue reader, Deep throat French kiss, unprotected sex, semi non-consensual sex, sex on the floor
Word count : 2211
AO3 Page Link
Herogasm oneshot I’d been sitting on for a while. Wanted to get it out there when I got it done.
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Every inch of the house was bathed in the dim glow of candlelight. Light the bodies curled along the floor in a flickering orange glow as they contorted around each other. It seemed like the ultimate pleasure pit, until you’d stop and take a moment to really see if for what it was. This was when you’d see it for its imperfections.
It was in fact, a room full of lubed up kinky weirdos, doing god knows what to one another. It just really wasn’t your cup of tea. Although, what did you expect from a super orgy?
You don’t even know why anyone invited you. It’s not like you were public with your abilities, if you could call them that. You were always more beast than super. Super strong, yes; but also super scary.
Sure, there were plenty of people here interested in that sort of thing, but being treated like a fetish didn’t exactly turn you on. Sadly, that didn’t stop them from trying.
You suppose “get lost creep” wasn’t a decent enough answer for the fifth time you tried to shoo one of them away. Although, you didn’t think they would have the nerve to drug you. You don’t even remember having left your drink unattended, but that last sip would be your last.
Luckily, the effects of drugs are dulled in your system, and even though he must have tossed in a heavy dose, you were still on your feet. Swaying slightly, and dizzy as hell, but on your feet none the less.
You’ll break his bones later, but for now you have to find a bathroom to puke this concoction up.
You bum rush towards the nearest facilities. The lock busts right off the door and little splintered pieces of wood go flying as you shove your way through. You fell to your knees over the tub shower, and the porcelain of the tub lip felt cool on the exposed midriff, below your crop top and above the line of your short skirt. It helped sooth the cramping in your guts as your body fought off whatever was put inside of it.
The worst is the nauseous feeling in your head and the remnants of a dry-heave in the back of your throat. It took everything within you to not vomit all over the tub. Especially since this bathroom wasn’t empty.
Standing at the large granite double sink, all wrapped in his tight green and gold bodysuit, he stared daggers into your direction. “Hey?! Occupado bitch!”
You didn’t have time to pay much attention to him at first, but when everything got into better focus you quickly realized who it was.
The famous Soldier Boy had been indulging in some snow-cain in the master bathroom, away from what he later deemed to be a dull orgy. There was still a small bump of white powder between his thumb knuckle and his wrist, and you’d rudely barged in while he was at mid-sniff.
He was always known as an unsavory character, but as you heard footsteps reach the now busted bathroom door, you later heard, then turn around and leave faster than they had approached. Possibly when they saw the kind of Supe that could pull their spine out of their mouth. You’d escaped one danger while hiding behind another.
But, when he took in your sickened state, his harsh stare softened. And when you blubbered out “I’m sorry, man.” He actually felt a little bad for you, but it didn’t stop him from rolling his eyes at this lightweight on the bathroom floor.
“Lookin worse for where, little lady.” He’d gone back to tidying up the line of coke he’d prepared for himself before dipping his nose in and sniffing it up. He shook his head after as he grit his teeth.
You waited for your breathing to settle before you answered back “you have no idea.” At least his attitude was better.
Much better apparently, as he divided up another bump on his thumb, this time not for himself. He sauntered over to you as you rolled over off of your stomach to just sit on the cool tile. Your head felt like it would spin right off your shoulders, and you could nearly feel a bit of drool dry to escape past your lower lip.
His heavy boots knocked softly on the floor before he leaned down towards you pointing his powdered hand in your direction as if to offer it to you. “Ya need a pick-me-up?”
You tried to meet his softened gaze, but your head started to lull back and forth. He had to grip your chin to get you closer to his hand, but instead of a sniff your pointed tongue flicked out and licked it off of him. The pink muscle was elongated and nearly had a mind of its own as it started to twist around his hand. But, it wasn’t the monstrous part of you slipping free that shocked him into grabbing your face and clamping your jaw shut.
“Hey, Hey! You’re not supposed to eat it! The hell’s the matter with you?” His nails dig into your bulletproof skin hard enough so that little rivulets of blood leak to the surface.
But, you couldn’t feel it as your throat burned from the funny white powder you lapped up like candy.
His grip loosened when your eyes rolled back, and your body went slack. “Shit” was all you heard before he let you drop to the floor completely. But you still had a firm grip on his arm as your thick nails dug into his ‘hero’ costume. He couldn’t pull away. The strongest man in the world was caught under your grip.
He wasn’t one to let a little girl like you drag him around. “Hey! Let go, bitch.” He tries to pry your fingers off of his wrist, but they just dig in harder.
“You’re gonna get yourself hurt.” He started to grind his teeth as he gave his arm a couple of jerks in an attempt to shake you free. Only to get yanked back down to your level on the floor.
His body hits the tile with a hefty thump, but time moves too quickly for you to care as you throw yourself over him. Your feet land on either side of his hips as you drop back on your haunches. You thong-clad core pressing onto his clothed cock.
He was hard. Very hard.
He was afraid, only that your antics would’ve killed his buzz. But, as the white pony picked up its pace, it made your strength reverberate through his body as you ground your clit against the length of his swollen shaft.
It’s any question how it was still contained behind a wall of that thick fabric. You could feel the firm outline of his shaft, right down to a straining vein running along its length as you pushed your clothed bud against it.
Your hands land forward on each of his arms, pinning him in place below you as your tongue darts past your lips. It was long and lizard-like as it flicked under your chin as your face dipped closer to his.
He didn’t squirm like they always do when you show people the real you. He just groaned under his breath, a “Ho-ly shit” before your pink muscle slid along his jawline towards his mouth to tickle past his lips. He opened them to you, letting you snake your tongue around his to drink in his taste.
He was bitter with cigarettes, vodka, and a little tang of something you recognize hidden at the back of his throat. His last martini had to have been dirty.
Your nails dragged along the print of his cock that ran along the green fabric of his suit, making him jolt from underneath you and nearly pull away from hungry lips. Your tendril of a tongue doesn’t let him get far as your nails sink into the fabric to tear it from his skin. Letting his cock feel the cool but warm air that circulates between the two of you.
Your other hand weaves between the two of you as you shuck your wet core along his shaft through the thin fabric of your cheeky red thong.
You slip your fingers along the patch that covered your hungry cunt and pull it out of your way. You wouldn’t have imagined an encounter like this when you put the skimpy red troublemaker on.
The tip meets your now uncovered core and you can feel him twitch as got caught on your hungry opening. You pull your tongue from his throat when his adams apple bobbed with the constriction of his throat, struggling for air. At the same moment you sink yourself down onto him.
Your back arched, your hands were planted firmly on his chest, and your hips pushed back as you took him to the base to feel the head knock against the deepest part of your core.
“Woah, baby. Aren’t you a wild one.” His voice shook as he felt you squeeze him, as if your cunt wanted to milk him for all he was worth.
You have total control of each other's movements as you spear yourself up and down on his thick member.
Your body melted from the feeling of him widening your walls with a delicious sting. If he wanted to buck you off, he wouldn’t be able to. Not like he wanted to be free from the tight grasp of your sweet walls squeezing around him.
It’s a rough ride, but he handles you so well. He watches as your loose lace bralette let your soft breasts bounce with each time your body moved above his.
But, The Soldier-boy isn’t one to lose control of a situation like this, but he struggled to meet your pace. It’s astonishing how well you pushed back against peak super humanity as you fucked him into the tile. Yet in the end, he won out.
You were unnatural, a lab made monstrosity, but he was perfection incarnate…at least in his mind. Yet, He let that mindset give him the momentum to take hold of each of your thighs, hand meeting the back of each knee. Your buzzed brain thought nothing of it until he was back on his own knees and you were in the air as he made it onto his feet, all while his cock continued to dip in and out of your slip channel.
You pawed at his shoulders as you thought more about him slipping away from you than falling.
“Hold on, it’s my turn now.”
He twists your body until hands meet the towel bar and one of your still heeled feet hits the floor. He tosses the other leg over his shoulder, turning you almost totally sideways as he takes the lead.
His pace was faster and deeper. He was pounding the opening of your cervix hard enough you could have sworn you almost felt him even farther inside. It was enough to make your brain even fuzzier than before.
You held onto that towel bar until you felt the screws holding it to the wall start to shake along with the both of you. You claw at the tiled walls as your nails cut through the painted ceramic. All while as your insides were tied into tight knots ready to snap with each drive of his hips. You tried to keep leverage with your elbow and cheek pressed to the wall as he drove you closer to a bright white edge that made stars burn the back of your eyes.
The tight coil in your belly kept getting pulled and pulled until his final thrust. He came with a howl followed by “fucks sake!! That’s a tight cunt” as he pressed harder until you felt your teeth press into the wall.
He just spent the last moment breathing until he pulled himself free and his knees buckled out beneath him. You almost felt boneless as all energy had been drained from your body. The coke was still making your brain buzz, and it was all that was left to help keep you standing.
He sat back on the closed toilet as he watched you sway while trying to hold onto what was left of the loose towel bar.
You’d just drained the life out of him directly from his cock. It still hung out of his torn pants, now soft and wet with his thick cum and the slick from your sweet core. You struggled back around, taking the metal bar with you as it still sat in your grip as you tried to stumble away from this mess. Your heeled feet teetered under your weight as the high dropped as fast as it had risen.
As you’d turned tail and tried to flee the room, the clack of your shoes made the hero shock back into focus.
“Hold up.”
Your feet halt as ordered and you nearly bed forward enough to hit the floor. Instead, you right yourself and turn back towards him.
“I gotta get your number.”
A wave of heat flushed over your body as a sly smile spread along his lips.
225 notes · View notes
spn-fanfic-reblog-writes · 5 months ago
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So the 20 Qs for Fic Writers had me thinking that I should update y’all on my WIPs. So, I wrote down the file titles and typed the list up for you, my lovely followers.
Update
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Want to know what I’ve been working on? See below the cut. ❤️💙💚💛
If you want to know about one or more of the WIPs fics below, please comment or reblog telling me the name(s)/title(s). I’m happy to answer. 😄 Excited to hear from you.
Legend
“ORIGINAL” means it isn’t a fandom fic. It’s my original piece of work.
“ ** ” means it’s published on ao3 and if you want more, you need to let me know in comments here or on ao3 and which one.
✍️ means it is an ask or equest so those are actively being worked on
Fic Titles:
(C) Don’t provoke Dean… (Pack Alpha!Hunter!Dean x Packless Omega!Hunter!Reader)
(C) Fledgling Cas**
#99 prompt (“You’re such a needy, good girl, aren’t you?” Female Sub Reader)
#99 v.2 prompt (“You’re such a needy, good pet, aren’t you?” Gender neutral Sub Reader)
09x03 I’m no angel Alt (just one scene)
09x03 I’m no angel Alt 2.0 (Episode rewrite)
2024-28-Feb Ask Beau x Reader ✍️
Alec M x Reader Crush (Alec McDowell x OFC Reader; Roommates to Lovers)
Alec x Reader 2
Alpha Dr Castiel Alpha Dean sinus
An Angel’s Unexpected Companion
Artsy summer exchange 2024 (Exchange SFW fic)
AU - BDSM Dom Cas switch/Dom Dean
Baby dragon vs the followers of the Thanatos Stone
Being a sex good isn’t all is cracked up to be (God!Dean x Angel!Castiel)
Bingo prompt Soldier Boy camboy
Blind Castiel A/B/O
By the flowers in his eyes (blind Gabriel)
Castiel’s Wings 2.0** (Angel Castiel x Hunter!F!Reader)
Dadstiel Plot 2.0 (Destiel+Kid)
Destiel date night
Domestic Destiel #? Glowy Angel seduction
Domestic Destiel #? Zorro meets Cowboy
Dragon Cas x Dean plot (Giant and Pet…)
Falling in love With an Angel ORIGINAL
Fell in love with a demon (Hell Knight Dean x Witch Reader; MoC Dean x Witch Reader)
Grindr meets long-term PLOT OUTLINE (Paramedic Dean x Doctor Castiel)
Guardian of Humanity A/B/O Plot
Guardian of Humanity A/B/O World and…
Guardian of Humanity Scene Drabble
Heat (Hunters!Destiel x Complex!Reader)
Imagine Dean comes home after having a bad day. (Hunter!Dean x Hunter!Reader)
Janus Coin - Winchester Brotherly Love (Body Swaping)
Post 15x19 DestielxOFC!Alex
Prize - Ketch/Gadreel/Dean+Kid✍️
Regarding Dean Rewrite 12 x 11 (Episode rewrite)
Romancing the Hunter** (Destiel x Reader)
Rough times with your mental illness…
Rough times with your mental illness…2.0
RPF First (Not) Date (Actor!Jensen Ackles x Actress!Female!Reader)
Sam x Psychic Reader (Reader thinks Sam has the most beautiful soul)
Sick Stubborn Reader x Angel Cas
Sinclair’s Daughter
Sleepy Angel Kisses (Destiel)
Soldier Boy x Reader (Solider Boy x Supe!F!Reader)
Spn 2.0 (Series rewrite)
Spn meets Fifth Element
Spn/Lilo & Stitch Fusion
Stereo love (Rock Star!Dean x Music Professor!Castiel)
Stone of Thanatos (death)
Surprise me contd** (Angel!Castiel x Hunter!F!Reader)
The Daughter of Death and Justice concept (Revenge fic, sort of; Destiel x Death Knight!OFC)
The monster under my bed (TFW Case Fic)
The Nephilim’s daughter (Revenge fic; Destiel x Death Knight!OFC)
The Omega (Alphas Destiel x Rescued Omega!Alex)
The Virus ORIGINAL (Origin story of A/B/O)
Two Men and the Virgin (AU - Modern; Husbands!Destiel x Single F!Henri (Neighbors to Lovers))
Vampire Dean (Currently, just smut)
Winchester A Life in the Hunter House (Tiny!Angel!Castiel x Tiny!Dean)
You want two Deans, Cas? (Angel Castiel x Current Dean x Season XX Dean; Slow burn; includes TFW 2.0)
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kpoplover4life · 1 year ago
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The way Trina be getting on my nerves, I swear.
In love this this series!
Love Actually - Part 2
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Paring: Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader
Summary: You and Ben steel yourselves in order to meet your crazy family for Christmas dinner.
AN: Here’s the requested Part 2! It got too long, so I had to break it up lol. There will be a Part 3 after this (final part). I also tried really hard to find an image/gif that would match this chapter better, but alas, there are only so many pictures of this scruffy guy. (And none in a real suit. 😂)
Read Part 1
Remember, this story is set in the same world as “Break Me Down,” and set before “Checkerboard.” But this can be read as a stand-alone! Hope you enjoy…
Word Count: 4,800 Tags/Warnings: Tense situations, bit of angst, lots of sexy fluff
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Part 2: "Season’s Greetings"
Ben checked his watched again. 
He’d lost count of how many times, how many minutes, how long he’d been waiting for you to come down the goddamn stairs so he could get this night over with. 
You’d been getting ready for this dinner with your family for four hours. How long did it take you to slap on some makeup and throw on a dress?
Finally, he heaved a sigh and got up from the couch, adjusting the watch on his wrist. He stayed by the foot of the stairs and called up to you.
“Hey. What’s taking so damn long?” he asked. His brows were furrowed, mouth set in an aggravated frown. “I already told you. I’m not planning on being at this thing all night. So if you don’t come down here in the next ten minutes, I swear to fucking Christ—” 
Ben stopped short, as he heard your footsteps at the top of the stairs. When he looked up with expectant, pursed lips, his face subtly froze. 
“What? What’re you gonna do?” you teased. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you grasped the guardrail and carefully made your way down the stairs. These heels were no joke. 
You had a black suede clutch tucked in your other hand, but Ben was drawn to the bright red of your dress. The color alone appealed to him. It called back a memory of a musty club, rich whiskey, and the dulcet tones of your voice.
But now, this dress was shorter. It also hugged your every curve and stopped just a few inches above the knee. He noticed a tantalizing little slit in the back, at the hem, leading his eyes down your sheer pantyhose and down to the tall, black heels.
His lips formed a teasing smile. “You sure you can walk in those?” 
But you could see the truth in his eyes; he liked what he saw. They raked back up your body, taking in the short sleeves, the slight plunge of the neckline, the red lipstick as bright as your dress, the soft sweep of eyeliner and dark lashes—and you hoped he noticed the way you’d painstakingly done your hair into soft, ‘40s style waves.
“Do I look shaky to you?” you countered.
Ben tilted his head slightly as he stared up at you. “Not one bit.”
He reached out for you on the last step of the stairs. You took his hand and gave him a grateful look, but your hand didn’t stop there. It grazed up the sleeve of his suit jacket as you took him in with a smile.
Not often one to don a simple black suit, Ben went with a charcoal gray against a crisp black undershirt. No tie though, leaving the first couple of buttons casually open. 
“Look at my man, all sharp and modern and sexy as hell,” you purred. He accepted the praise with a pleased quirk of his lips. 
Normally you wouldn’t try to feed his peacock-level pride too much. He knew he was a damn fine-looking man. However, you also knew he wasn’t totally into meeting the rest of your family tonight. You knew you needed to give him a (well earned) ego boost.
“Gotta match my girl,” said Ben. Though he fingered the ends of your softly curled hair with a more genuine glint to his smile. “Though you’ve gone a bit vintage.”
“Compromise.” You grinned, and you leaned up for a soft kiss. 
He met you there, even pressing his luck when his tongue begged entrance against your lips. You held his cheek and brushed your thumb there tenderly, but you soon broke away. 
“We’ve got somewhere to be,” you reminded him. Ben sighed through his nose, though his hands molded to your waist.  
“I didn’t realize you were that kinky,” he said. His voice was deep and suggestive. Your face started to heat up, even as your brows knitted with confusion.
“What?” you asked. 
“I know you’re not gonna make me wait all night to get a taste of this,” he said. And he leaned down to begin plying you with his heavy hands and his lips along your neck. “I gotta assume you want me to fuck you in your mom’s house.”
You uttered a shocked laugh. You batted his shoulder, even though it didn’t even make him blink. His lips curved as they grazed your neck. He inhaled under your ear, making a pleasant shudder run down your spine. He hummed in approval.
“Is that the perfume I got you?” he asked. 
“Mhmm,” you nodded. “I like it a lot. Makes me feel all warm and spicy.”
Ben chuckled into your neck. He did pull back eventually to thumb around the edge of one of your earrings—the second part of his Christmas gift to you. The white stone and silver filigree shone in the light. 
“They look good,” he remarked, giving you a charming smile. “Better on you than the catalogue girl.”
Now that was an image. Soldier Boy: browsing through a magazine of women’s jewelry. You smiled brightly at him. 
“Thank you, baby,” you replied. “They really are beautiful.”
Then you glanced down to find your gift to him on his wrist: a new silver Rolex. You turned his hand over to make sure that it fit him right.
“Not too tight, right? Not too loose.” you asked.
He shook his head. “Nah, it’s good.”
“Just good? Does it still need adjusting? We can go back to the store and have them fix it—”
“It’s perfect, sweetheart. Stop fussing,” he said. Your lips pursed as you looked up at him from the watch. 
“I just want to make sure you’re happy with it, that’s all,” you said. 
“I am,” he replied. But his smile, the hidden glint of something in his eyes, made you blush. Inside, you were warm and pleased.  
“All right, let’s go then,” you said. “I’ve got the rum cake, and the actual rum ready to go in the kitchen. And the presents are lined up by the door. Can you load those up in the car for me while I get the food?”
Ben obliged you, though he soon balked at the army of presents waiting for him by the door. When did you have time to get all of these? He didn’t remember you buying all this shit. 
Though he realized, this must’ve been how you filled your time after work, while he was gone for the past two weeks on that mission. 
As he loaded the gifts into the car, Ben reluctantly remembered that it had been…strange, to be away from you. For the past few months, you two had fallen into a rhythm. Waking up to each other, busy morning routines before work, sharing your evenings afterwards. 
You had also been making it your mission to find new things to do together. Like paintballing, of all things. Or comedy shows, new movies and restaurants, concerts, club nights with your friends. Though it was weird for him, sometimes, to go to a show without all the celebrity fanfare he used to get as Soldier Boy.    
Well, he was still Soldier Boy. He just wasn’t getting paid anywhere near the same as he used to. (But let’s face it, he didn’t need the damn money. He’d earned plenty in 40 years of fame and family inheritance.) 
People still knew his name, still worshiped him at times, but it wasn’t the same. He wasn’t part of Vought’s machine anymore. No one really told him what to do, but if he wanted this life—here, in upstate New York—he was forced to make efforts to color within the lines of the law (mostly). Hell, he actually worked for a living. Even if it was for the government.  
The point was, he was part of something. And it wasn’t totally shit, even if he was surrounded by morons on a daily basis…  
By the time you opened the passenger side door to interrupt his musings, Ben remembered to actually start the car. 
“You okay?” you asked as you clicked in your seatbelt. You were keeping a close eye on him tonight, trying to gauge his shifting moods. 
Ben hesitated, but when he glanced over at you, he reached over and thumbed at your chin, under those ruby red lips. It made you smile. 
“Yeah,” he replied. Though he let out a subtle breath as he faced the road and took the wheel of the car. Ever perceptive though, you sent him an assessing look. 
“You’re not nervous, are you?” you asked. His brows furrowed slightly.
“Why would I be?” he asked, his voice a bit sharp. Defensive, you interpreted. 
Instead of answering, you leaned over and laid a hand on his thigh.
“Look, my mom already likes you. Louisa’s going to come around,” you said. Your mouth edged into a smile, of sorts. “I just need you to stop me from killing my aunt with a ladle.” 
Ben snorted in response. “All right.”
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When the two of you arrived at your mother’s house, she opened the door to her home and greeted your boyfriend like a long-lost son. 
“Oh, Ben! Come in, please,” she beckoned, grabbing his arm and guiding him inside. “You look so handsome, my goodness!” 
Ben couldn’t help offering a smile. It was infused with his usual charm. 
“Marie,” he greeted with a nod. You shook your head, despite your own smile. Ben liked attention—along with a bit of praise and fanfare went without saying. And you knew your mom wouldn’t be the only one to play into that tonight. 
“Hi, Mom,” you said pointedly, with a hand on your hip. Marie turned to you with a bright smile. 
“Oh! Honey, there you are. Merry Christmas!” She brought you in and hugged you tight. She then fairly gushed as she took in your dress and touched your hair. “Oh, you look so beautiful. I wish you’d come earlier though. I need you to help me and Trina. Come on.”
Marie glanced up at Ben again. “Oh, you too, hun! We can introduce you to everyone.”
Ben nodded. He followed your lead behind your mother, and you inwardly steeled yourself on the way to the kitchen. The familiar smells awaiting you brought you back to the better parts of your childhood. Ones that were filled with music, laughs, and good food.    
And if there was one redeeming quality about your Aunt Trina, it was that she could cook her ass off. Since your mom had always been more of the “boxed meal” variety cook, Trina always took over at Thanksgiving and Christmas, and just about every other family gathering. 
She was putting the ham in the oven while your sister sat at the kitchen table with your Grandpa George, peeling potatoes. The bigger table in the dining room was currently set up with appetizers and wine. 
But the sounds of chatter and pots and pans and cabinets closing—it all stopped when you and Ben entered the kitchen. You felt his hand at the small of your back, and whether he meant it to or not, that familiar touch stabilized you. 
Even Trina stopped giving Louisa directions on how to correctly peel and cut the potatoes for boiling. Her mouth opened when she took in the sight of Ben, from head to toe. 
“Good evening,” he said, if only to break the silence. 
But you knew the rest was up to you. You curled a hand around his solid arm and gave him a smile, before looking to your family. 
“Hey, guys. Merry Christmas!” you greeted. “This is my boyfriend, Ben.”
Trina squealed in excitement. She came over (with a wooden spoon in hand) to give you an enthusiastic hug and kiss. She held your arms and looked between you and Ben. 
“Your mom said you were dating a superhero, but I had no idea…” she twittered. “I mean…it’s Soldier Boy. He’s in my kitchen!” 
“It’s Mom’s kitchen, actually,” you muttered. Trina’s excitement dimmed slightly as she rolled her eyes at you.
“Ever the smart mouth,” she said, playfully whacking you in the ass with her spoon. 
Ben smirked. He certainly agreed with your aunt’s assessment. He turned to her to offer something in greeting, but before he could, Louisa’s voice cut in from across the room. 
“What should we call you? Ben, or Soldier Boy?” she asked dryly. 
You frowned, gave your sister a look. Meanwhile, Ben didn’t quite make it to a smile, but he was civil when he answered her. 
“Ben’s fine.”
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You remained in the kitchen to help out, while Ben migrated to the living room with your grandfather. Ben grabbed a large glass of wine on his way there, along with a few mini quiche to tide him over until dinner. 
He then noticed an old woman sleeping on the leather recliner. 
“Who’s that?” he asked George. 
“Oh, that’s Great Aunt Sylvia,” George said. “She just took an oxy for her hip. She’ll be passed out ‘til dinner.”  
Ben blinked at the casual mention of oxycodone, but he wouldn’t mind a few of what Sylvia was having. Oxy gave him such a nice buzz. 
But instead, he and George sat on opposite ends of the couch while Sylvia snored away. 
For a moment, it was quiet, save for the soft crooning of Nat King Cole playing (and Sylvia). The music came from a small round speaker on the coffee table, Ben noticed. You’d told him about Alexa and Siri and all those techno bitches out there now, controlling people’s houses. He didn’t trust it. 
“You like baseball?” George asked as he turned on the TV. Ben nodded, and the other man put on a game. Mets versus the Cubs, three to one. The men were silent for a while as they watched the game. 
Unfortunately for Ben, that peace couldn’t last. 
“So,” George started. “You’re a supe, huh?”
Ben inclined his head, sipping at his wine. This was what he fucking hated. Small talk. 
“I remember you,” George said. “My wife and I liked that movie you made…King of Kings. With Charlton Heston. What a classic that guy was.”
Ben smiled. “He was a good time. Drank like a fucking fish.”
George raised a brow. “Did he? Well, we all need a glass every now and then.”
Ben nodded, taking a pointed sip of his wine. 
“Heston. One of the few celebrities I gave a shit about when he died,” George said with a shake of his head. “Wasn’t long before my wife’s passing.”
You’d told Ben a lot about your grandmother. When your parents got divorced, she’d insisted that you, your mom, and your sister live with her and George. She didn’t want to take any chances with your dad, who’d been more than unstable at the time in his drinking. 
Ben didn’t often pray. But he drank then with a silent toast, that good ole’ Jon was getting hot coals up the ass right about now. In hell.
Ben then considered your grandfather’s musings, realizing he hadn’t thought about his old pal Heston in a long time.  
“How’d he die?” Ben asked. George glanced over at him.
“Well, official case was pneumonia. But it wasn’t all that clear,” he said. “However, I think he had a flare up.”
“Of what?” Ben asked.
George gave him a wry look. “The fate that all men fear. Ass cancer.”
Ben raised a brow, his mouth twitching. He had a feeling he knew where your sense of humor came from. 
“You probably don’t have to worry about that,” George waved a dismissive hand. “You’re still young. Well, sort of…I mean, being superhuman and all that. I’m sure that comes in handy with the normal stuff, like the sniffles and whatnot…and hey! At least you won’t have to worry about your asshole fallin’ out.”
Ben actually smiled. Now he knew you were related to this man. 
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In the kitchen, you were trying and failing to dodge a game of “Twenty Questions” with your aunt, while you and your sister finished cutting potatoes. All of the questions were predictably centered around Ben. Luckily, you had a plate of mini quiche, cheese, and salami between you and Louisa to keep you pacified. 
“Well, you’ve done well for yourself, I’ll give you that,” Trina said. “But why on God’s green Earth didn’t you tell us you were dating Soldier Boy? How the hell did you even meet him?”
Shit. There was more than one reason you hadn’t told the rest of your family yet, and this was partly it. How the hell were you supposed to explain this? 
Louisa shot you a knowing look, along with a raised brow. 
“Well, I was actually assigned to find him after he…went missing last year,” you said, keeping things purposefully vague. “We met and…things just kind of took off from there.”
Your mom and your sister didn’t even know all the details, but they knew this much. After Soldier Boy used his nuclear power to end Homelander, he’d escaped in the aftermath. 
You’d been working a year in Surveillance at Supe Affairs, but you’d been a private investigator by trade, previously working at your father’s firm. You’d even worked at Vought for a few years, before joining the S.A. 
You were then recruited by Grace Mallory to track down Soldier Boy, along with Butcher and his team. 
…And that’s where things got complicated. 
“But isn’t Soldier Boy the one who killed Homelander?” Trina asked. She stopped in her stirring of the cranberry sauce to look back at you. And you met her stare directly. 
“Yes. He was partnered with the CIA on that.” Sort of. You added, “Homelander wasn’t the hero you all thought you knew, remember? He was a raging psychopath.”
Trina huffed at that. 
“So was your father. And you still worked with him for years,” she remarked, even off-handedly as she went back to stirring.
Your entire body stilled. Inside, your temper was a lit fuse, preparing to ignite. You stuffed a mini quiche into your mouth to stop you from exploding. 
And your mom and your sister recognized the danger. Louisa frowned tightly and touched your arm. 
She had been too young to form a true relationship with your father by the time your parents were divorced, and your grandparents (and later you) hadn’t allowed Jon to interfere too much with Louisa's life. So Jon’s death, a mere seven months ago, hadn’t truly affected her as deeply as it had you. 
And that in itself was complicated. 
Marie paused in preparing the sweet potato casserole to give her sister a warning look. 
“Trina, that’s not fair,” said Marie. 
Your aunt shrugged. “It’s the truth, isn’t it?”
Slowly, you stood. You grabbed a hand towel and brushed the velvety remains of potato skin from your hands. You also took the plate of cheese cubes and salami with you. 
“Honey, she just means—” 
“I know what she meant, Mom,” you said. Your mother wasn’t confrontational. She would never tell her sister to shut the fuck up when she was being out of pocket. 
But you had no problem doing so. You walked over to Trina, who saw the look in your eye and actually relented, realizing that there was, in fact, a line, and she had crossed it. 
“Look, I’d like us to continue having a nice evening,” you told her. “Mention my father again, and it won’t be.” 
After a moment, Trina nodded. 
“You’re right. I shouldn’t have said that. Don’t mind me,” she said. But then, she smiled. “I’m really happy for you, sweetheart. You’ve got a superhero! Who knew you’d pull that one off, huh?”
Your flat smile remained. “Oh, yeah? How do you mean?” 
Trina faltered. Apparently, she hadn’t expected that. 
“Oh. Well, you know…”
“No. I really don’t. Can you clarify for me?” you asked, using the same even tone you employed with testy co-workers on the Surveillance team. 
Trina sighed. “Oh, honey. You’re a beautiful girl, but…”
“What?” you challenged. “Just say it.”
Behind Trina’s coil of dark hair piled on her head, Marie looked worried. Louisa was also on tenterhooks, gripping the kitchen table. She slowly got to her feet though, in case she needed to intervene. 
“Well, I wasn’t gonna say anything,” Trina said. She gestured to you, after grabbing a cheese cube off your plate. “But your hips, hun. I mean, I enjoy a snack. A bon bon. A chocolate eclair. The occasional croissant, but the weight don’t come off easier as you get older, does it?” 
You were officially burning like a tea kettle.  
“And with a man like that…” Trina fanned herself with the discarded, empty bag of cranberries. “Mother of God. He’s gotta be beating ‘em off with a fucking stick.” 
Your mom pursed her lips at the salty language, giving Trina a sharp glance (for multiple reasons). 
Trina noticed, but she only popped another piece of salami into her mouth. “Sorry, hun.” 
But then she turned back to you. 
“And have you talked about kids yet? That’ll be some serious weight gain.” 
You let out a sharp breath and raised your gaze heavenward, pleading for mercy. 
“Jesus Christ,” you muttered.  
“I’m just sayin’!” she said. “He might have forever, but you certainly don’t.” 
Now that one struck a nerve. Perhaps not the one she intended, but it cut deeply into you all the same. You and Ben had agreed to pin that conversation for now, but the fact was, he would continue to age much slower than you. 
At your steely glare, Trina again raised her hands. This time in placating defense. “I’m trying to help you, is all I’m saying.” 
You gripped the edge of the kitchen counter so tight you thought a manicured nail might break off. You’d reached the end of your tether. 
“I’ve been here for all of five minutes—” 
“Okay, you know what?” Louisa finally stepped in and grabbed your arm. “I need your help. Let’s find the red tablecloth so we can set the table.”
She led you out of the kitchen and into the hall, but you stopped short so fast that you skidded a bit in your heels. You took deep breaths and braced a hand against the wall.  
You turned to your sister. “Why doesn’t she attack you like that?” 
“Oh, believe me,” Louisa said, rolling her eyes. “I had my turn before you got here. I’ve been locked in with these clucking hens all morning.” 
A grin twitched at the corner of your lips. 
“My condolences,” you said. But then, you look at your sister a bit harder. “And you. What’s your problem, huh? How long are you going to give Ben a hard time?” 
It took her a moment, but Louisa eventually sighed. 
“I mean, Aunt Trina’s an asshole, but she kind of said it. He’s literally a century-years-old,” she said. “How do you not have a problem with that?” 
You crossed your arms, though you knew you didn’t have a good answer for that one. 
“Age is…relative.” You struggled against a wince. 
“He lived through the damn Dust Bowl,” Louisa deadpanned. “He’s fucking ancient.” 
You glared back at her. “Okay, enough. What’s your real problem, huh? I mean really.”
Louisa let out another sigh. Her hands went to her hips. You hadn’t had a chance to tell her, but she looked pretty tonight too in her black dress. It flared at the waist and reached her knees, and she’d paired it with some chunky red heels. She was a little taller than you normally, but not by much. As the older sister, you enjoyed finally being taller than her for once in your higher heels. 
Still, you were annoyed with her right now. You sensed she had something deeper against Ben, and it wasn’t all about his age. When she eventually answered, it just confirmed your suspicions. 
“He’s dangerous,” she said at last. “He’s so fucking dangerous.” 
That disheartened you. Your lips pressed, and you held onto your own arms a bit tighter. 
“Not to me,” you replied. Louisa’s frown deepened as her brows knitted together.
“Especially to you,” she said. “He kidnapped you.” 
You gave a wan smile. “Not technically.” 
That had been one of his subordinates, who’d taken you outside of Ben’s orders…
It was a long and complicated story, but basically, it had worked out for both of you in the end. 
Louisa gave you a more incredulous look. “He’s got an atomic bomb in his chest.” 
“He’s working on controlling it,” you insisted. “He’s gotten a lot better!” 
Louisa threw her hands upward in exasperation and turned to leave you in the hall. You stopped her with a hand on her arm. 
“Look, I get it,” you said, meeting her gaze directly. “You’re worried about me. But here’s the thing…you don’t have to do that. I’m the one who looks out for you, remember?” 
Once again, she frowned at you. “Why, just because you’re older?” 
You gave her a teasing smile. 
“Well, yeah.” Still, you grasped both of her arms, now crossed in front of her chest. “Lou, haven’t I always taken care of you?” 
“Okay, yeah,” she said. “But who takes care of you? Who makes sure you’re all right?” 
You gave her a patient, if knowing look. 
She grimaced. “Oh, don’t you say it.” 
“Honestly, Lou. He does take care of me…he makes me feel safe.” You bit your lip, and your eyes began to well up with the sting of tears, emotion rising in your throat. “I’ve never had that. Ever.” 
Your sister released a heavy sigh. “I know.” 
“Then can you actually try to get to know him? Please?” You rubbed her arms, pleading with your eyes. You wanted your family to like your boyfriend, but it was so much more than that. You didn’t want to have separate worlds. Everyone in this house was part of your family, and that now included Ben.
The longer she looked into your imploring eyes, Louisa’s grimace lightened, just a touch. “I’ll think about it.” 
You smiled then, warmly as you hugged your sister. You then kissed her on the cheek, leaving the bright red imprint of your lipstick.
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When you went back into the kitchen, your better mood was ruined pretty quickly by watching your aunt run your mother around the kitchen with demands and instructions. You decided to jump into the fray, taking a large serving bowl out of Marie’s hands before it tipped over.
“How’s the ham doing?” you asked. 
“About half an hour or so, I think,” Trina said. “Maybe forty-five.”
“Okay, and what’s left?”
“Let’s get the desserts ready.”
While your help sorely relieved your mother, it was actually a terrible idea for your mental health. When you could take no more of Trina’s irritating, commanding voice in your ear, you had to take a breath (as well as down a full glass of wine). 
You wordlessly asked Louisa to tag in for you before you traveled into the living room. 
There you found Ben immersed in a baseball game with Grandpa George. Both men only looked up at you when you stood near the couch with crossed arms. Your nerves were on edge, your blood still just short of boiling, but you took pains to look pleasant.
“Who’s winning?” you asked.
Ben quirked a smile at the sight of you, while George gave his more freely.
“5 to 3. It’s close on the Mets,” he said. You realized then that you hadn’t even hugged your grandfather yet. 
“Oh my God, Grandpa! I’m so sorry,” you said with a frown. You went over to hug him. “Trina has me all out of whack.”
George chuckled and patted you warmly on the back. “Why do you think I’m out here?”
You sighed with a wry smile. You then turned to Great Aunt Sylvia, who was still passed out in the recliner. 
“Aunt Sylvia?” you tried. You went over to her and touched her arm. 
“Leave her be, hun,” George told you. “Only the smell of food’ll rouse that woman.” 
Your smile deepened. Then you turned to Ben, who’d been watching you with reserved interest. He’d never seen you with the rest of your family before.
You went to him on his side of the couch and asked, in a tone deceptively light, “How about a tour of the house? You haven’t even seen it all.”
He could admit, it was a fairly big house for just your mother, but he was more interested in the game. 
“I’m watching this,” he said, gesturing at the screen. However, when he saw the tight press of your lips, he knew something wasn’t right with you. You were trying to tell him something with your eyes, he just didn’t know what.
You leaned down, subtly grabbing his thigh.
“I need you,” you whispered in his ear. “Now.” 
The tone of your voice set his blood alight with new interest.
Ben’s resulting smirk was subtle, but edged. 
“A tour it is.” 
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AN: Just when you thought you'd seen the last of my BMD cliffhangers. 😏
How'd you like Ben's introduction to his girlfriend's family? I also sincerely hope you don't have an "Aunt Trina" in your life. 🙄
Next Time:
He grabbed your arms and meant to kiss you, but you stopped him with your fingers against his lips. 
“Two rules: this lipstick doesn’t come off. And no. Ripping. The dress.”
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Soldier Boy Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Tag List:
@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26
@spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort
@xoxovienna @katherineann814 @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022 @emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow
@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @karnellius @kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun @lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2
@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420 @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92
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tojigasm · 6 months ago
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Soldier boy is the type to–
"Slow down fr'me, sweetheart. Been a few years." As you're sat on his lap on the couch, thick and veiny cock splitting you open and his plush lips pressing soft kisses up and down the column of your jaw.
"Feels good." Is all you can manage when the rough, calloused skin of his hands are squeezing and rocking the fat of your hips and ass against him.
"Jesus," Ben nearly fucking whines through his teeth and it sends heat straight to your cunt, "Gonna kill this old man one day."
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sllystupidfyodor · 2 months ago
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I can fuck the racism out of him.
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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 8 months ago
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You Call It Madness But I Call It Love
Pairing: Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV
Tropes: Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn
Song Inspiration For The Series: You Call It Madness But I Call It Love By Russ Columbo
Series Playlist (Spotify)🥀
Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters fluctuate between past and present, beginning in 1934. SPOILERS FOR THE BOYS S3
Chapter 1: You Shouldn't Have Answered the Door
Chapter 2: Late Night Visitor
Chapter 3: Summer Has to End Someday
Chapter 4: It's My Party and I'll Eat Cake If I Want To
Chapter 5: The Man, The Myth, The Legend
Chapter 6: Batter Up
Chapter 7: Are We Old Friends Or Old Enemies?
Chapter 8: Jealousy Doesn't Look Good On Anybody Except...
Chapter 9: Wedding Bells or Gong of Destruction?
Chapter 10: How Did It End Up Like This?
Chapter 11: I Can't Think With You Yelling At Me!
Chapter 12: My Heart Is Beating For You Constantly
Chapter 13: You Made A Plaything Out of Romance
Chapter 14: You're All I'm Dreaming Of
Chapter 15: What Do You Know About Love?
Chapter 16: Please Come Back To Me
Chapter 17: How Could I Ever Forget?
Chapter 18: First Impressions Are Often Correct
Chapter 19: I Know Who You Are
Chapter 20: You Were There
Chapter 21: Try To Understand
Chapter 22: I May Be Right Or I May Be Crazy
Chapter 23: Extreme Makeover Backyard Edition
Chapter 24: What The Past Held
Chapter 25: Are Family Reunions Always This Awkward?
Chapter 26: I Hate You, I Love You
Chapter 27: Take Me Back To The Beginning
Epilogue: True Love Is Hard To Find
Last Updated: 10/08/2024 (Series Complete)
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One Shots: COMING SOON!
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[Extras]
Chapter 7.5: The Only Escape (Unused)
Happy Halloween! (Takes Place After Main Series)
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If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series let me know :)
Taglist:
@roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303
@deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs
@bughill126 @simplyfixated  @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts @onlyangel-444
@lov3vivian @mxltifxnd0m @mayafatimakhan @marvel-mistress @my-obsession-spn
@lifeonawhim  @liuope @brynanna @carpenterswife
@xxannyxx
 @babyinatrench-coat1 @the-gentle-spirit @valryomen @cassieriddle713 @shaggzthatsnottheworm
 @lil-soup @ej13928 @topstory21 @boywivlove
@mrsjenniferwinchester
@vivre-dans-la-nuit @megara0224 @daisy-the-quake @thesilmarillionblog @samanddeaninatrenchcoat
@livya99 @peachhiz @tinydancer40 @tinystarfishgalaxy
@jvanilly
@lunaticgurly @i-am-typing @52ndstreeet
@anna6307
@pixviee @soldiergrimes @ladysparkles78 @ahoytothestorm
@octoazzy @modiddys-blog @marmie-noir @practicallylivesonline @impala67stellawinchester
@everlove @dangerousgardenchild
(Photos on mood board from Pinterest)
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vero1shere · 2 months ago
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morning cardio
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pairing: soldier boy x payback member!reader
word count: 2.2k
summary:  you convince Ben to turn his morning cardio into something a little more fun.
warnings: 18+ MDNI, unprotected sex (it’s fiction guys!!), p in v, teasing, oral sex, very fluffy, breastplay, dryhumping, fingering, cumming inside, overstimulation if you squint, not proofread
masterlist. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁inbox
you weren't really a fan of training. of course, being part of a superhero team meant you had to do lots of it. yet you tried to avoid it as much as you could, it wasn’t as if you didn’t already know how to control your powers. besides, you weren’t really on payback to fight crime or whatever. you were selected mostly as eye candy, and you knew it, you didn’t mind. you did mind having to train though. 
your boyfriend on the other hand? he couldn’t go a day without training. already was the most powerful supe ever but didn’t seem to get enough. 
you had memorised his routine quite well: a lengthy morning run, worked a bit on his powers, his beloved strength training, followed by the occasional swimming or, god forbid, another run. 
Ben tried to get you 'hooked' on it all, claiming you just didn’t like it because you ‘had to train with the other fucking pussies’ in his own words. but his efforts were to no avail. 
you had important things to do... like catching up on your beauty sleep. 
“g’morning doll”, the rasp of Ben’s voice lingered through the early morning air, cold hands trailing over your back. he pressed his lips onto yours at the silent response, watching you not budge even a centimetre in your sleep.
a sigh escaped his mouth as he pressed his knees onto the edge of your bed, bending down to push your hair behind your ears. he called your name softly, making you hum in response. 
“Ben,” you mumbled with sleep heavy in your voice. “you better not ask–”
“come on a run with me,” he pleaded.
you forced an eye open, wincing at the immediate white light surrounding you. blinking rapidly, you honed in on Ben, who was already dressed for his venture, batting his green puppy eyes towards you. 
“Ben, you know i love you very very much,” you cooed, pressing your head further into the warmth of your pillow, “but i'd rather watch swatto shaking his dick in gunpowder’s face”
an abrupt slice of cold air trickled past your bare skin and thin clothes. you yelped, covering your body, immediately missing the comforting heat of your duvet. “Ben! You motherfucker!” you scolded, much more awake now.
Ben gave you a sick grin. “say unwarranted things, get unwarranted things,” he shrugged before grabbing your ankle to drag you off the mattress. 
“no, no, no, no,” you groaned, squirming in his grip. pouting your lips, you quickly reached over to grab Ben's hand. “please,” you whined.
“oh doll,” Ben started, “i just want you to join me. i promise you it'll be good. it's fun morning cardio!”
feeling Ben loosen his grip, you yanked your ankle back and got on your knees, sinking down on the soft mattress. “Ben,” you murmured, hands travelling up his arms as you leaned in.
Ben narrowed his eyes, quickly knowing you were up to something with that sweet tone of yours. 
“name the better cardio. A morning run or…” you trailed off, hand travelling down his arm and past his thigh, resting dangerously close to his crotch. “... morning fun?”
Ben let out a dramatic sigh but he couldn't keep the quirk of his lips at bay. he stretched out his thick arm, grabbing you by the waist. his skin swarmed with heat as he felt your bare waist under your shirt as he fully pulled you over him. a quick nudge to your knees left you straddling him. 
“more energy burnt,” you murmured, trying to persuade Ben even though you knew Ben would never need persuading. Ben’s hand reached out to push your hair behind your ears before landing on the soft pillows of your lips. “and a whole lot more pleasure.”
you stared at Ben. Taking in those gorgeous green eyes, the warmth of his skin, those god-made eyelashes, and each little freckle mixed on his face. you had both been so busy lately and it felt like you hadn't seen each other in months.
“what's on your mind, doll?” Ben whispered, thumb still trailing the shape of your lips as those very same eyes searched yours.
“nothing. i just missed you. and your stupid morning cardio,” you rolled your eyes. “is that a crime?”
“then I'm guilty as charged,” Ben confessed, not missing the softening of your eyes as he held you tighter against him. “all I've been thinking about since my last solo mission is coming back to you.”
“yeah?” you whispered, pressing a brief kiss to his cheek. “anything in particular?”
Ben took a deep breath in, your signature fragrance engulfing him. goodness, were you intoxicating. “well... there were picnics, breakfast, and the beach on the agenda. and... morning fun.”
a gasp left your mouth as Ben fell back first onto the mattress, bringing his lips to yours. 
your hands fell around his neck and hair, nose gliding near his as Ben continued to ravage your mouth. he sucked on your lips with a small nibble here and there, relishing the muffled moans escaping your lips. his own hands continued to travel the path of your body he had committed to memory. he knew as he traversed your burning skin exactly where the small freckles and bumps he had come to love were.
your soft moans became more audible and pleasing to Ben’s ears as he moved his lips to your neck, leaving the sloppily yet controlled kisses down the base of your skin.
you gasped as you felt a sudden jerk underneath you, feeding into the pooling wetness between your thighs. your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, your hips automatically responded by grinding down onto Ben’s bulge.
“shit,” Ben cursed, feeling his cock throb in his shorts. his eyes fluttered shut, hands returning to your hips to continue the stimulating pleasure.
both of your skins were covered in a thin sheen of sweat as you felt Ben’s clothed cock rut into your poorly covered pussy. you rocked your hips harder into him, feeling a slight jolt against your clit. “oh, fuck, Ben,” you moaned his name in his ear.
god, what were you two? sex-crazed teenagers? dry humping on each other like rabbits in heat.
“gorgeous,” Ben panted, eyebrows strained with the urge to cum yet give you all the pleasure he could. “i need... i need…” he breathed, “i need to be in you, fuck.” his entire body shuddered with a sharp arousal while his cock could feel your thin underwear becoming useless and drenched. it was as thin as his patience was wearing.
you made a poor attempt to nod, releasing a hand from his neck. you briefly lifted your hips, pushing your panties to the side. in doing so, your breath hitches as you feel your sensitive folds glide past your fingers.
“oh, fuck,” Ben blubbered, losing himself in seeing your bare pussy and your reaction. “fuck yourself on those pretty little fingers for me, gorgeous. i need you ready for me,” he encouraged breathlessly, attempting to shove off his shorts with one hand.
Ben watched in torture as you pushed your fingers into your warm walls, body jerking forward at the sheer pleasure. “that's it, doll,” he continued to praise you, “doing so well for me, hmm?” he asked, moving one hand down your hips, skimming past your burning thigh before reaching the small bundle of nerves situated near your hand.
“a little faster,” Ben said, “you're already so fucking wet. pump those fingers... let me see how much you missed me.”
you were already moaning in a haze at the praises leaving his lips, pushing your fingers in faster, unable to see how your engorged folds took them in as your eyes focused on the ceiling. but the moment you felt the pad of Ben’s thumb on your clit, you had given up every ounce of respect you had for yourself.
“oh, shit, oh shit,” you cursed, hips bucking up at his action. your eyes shut tightly. the white light of ecstasy felt close. your hand sped up faster, your hips went against your fingers and his thumb with a more brutal force, feeling his aching cock bounce under you... you were going to cum. and hard.
and just like that, it was gone.
you snapped your eyes open, falling to your pussy to see Ben’s hand retreating. “fuck baby, don’t tease me” you cursed without looking at his face. 
“i need you to cum on my cock darling” he flashed you a cheeky grin. “i’m sure you understand,” 
you moved your eyes towards him, savouring the hiss falling from his lips as you took his cock out of his underwear. you gave a small smile, guiding his cock to your puffy folds. you both released hitched moans when you rubbed your pussy against him.
you watched as Ben purposely lifted his hips, pushing the tip of his cock against your clit, making your body convulse for a brief second. you pressed your lips together, pushing his cock slowly into your pussy. he was always so big. thick and pulsing in your hands, stretching your pussy out no matter how many times you made love as if it were the first time.
Ben groaned, both hands firmly placed on your hips, head falling back onto the bed headboard. it had been so long. he missed your touch everyday. but the feeling of his cock in your pussy... he thought about it every second of every day.
you pushed your hips down flat, ensuring Ben bottomed out. you groaned at the full feeling of his cock in you, eyeing the small bulge in your stomach. “fuck, you fill me up so well, baby,” you praised.
Ben groaned in response. “ride me doll. you know i like it when you ride me.”
you moaned at his words, taking off the singlet you had slept in. the self control Ben had for your breasts was little. especially, when they bounced in front of him like they were right now. his hands almost immediately shot out, groping the soft mounds with all his might.
immersed in your tits, his body trembled when you raised your hips and slammed down on his cock, repeating the movement again. “ah, shit,” Ben cussed, drunk on your pussy.
you ground your hips forward as you rode his cock, stimulating the pure pleasure of grinding on one another. out of the corner of your eyes, you could see Ben’s hand reach towards your clit. your eyes shut, bracing yourself for what's about to come.
Ben intently watched you, rubbing your clit in soft circles. he could see you slowly fall apart, the fast rhythm of your hips slowing down and becoming sporadic. Your body was shaking with pleasure, your hands reaching towards his thick biceps.
he continued your work for you, lifting your hips with his one hand on your waist. he grunted, feeling you clench around his cock. “cum... cum for me,” he beckoned, increasing the speed of his cock and the pressure of his thumb on your clit.
he smiled at the complete lost look that had fallen on your face. your body jerked and convulsed over him, your brain unable to control it any longer. your climax hit you hard as he denied your previous one not too long ago. your whine was high pitched and dazed. you were completely lost in pleasure.
your pleasure only fuelled his own. your walls were holding his cock like a vice, clamping down on him. you could feel his throbbing cock overstimulating your sensitive pussy.
Ben groaned at the feel of his twitching cock in your walls. he panted, hips racing to chase the urge to cum. “yes, keep moaning in my ear, gorgeous," he mumbled, falling victim to your praises falling from your soft lips and the clench of your pussy.
you both groaned when you felt the hot ropes of his cum spill into your walls. his hips stuttered, faltering against yours as you took every last drop from his cock.
Ben buried his chin into your neck, riding out his last few moments of his climax. “fuck,” he mumbled, letting out a small exhale as he moved his head back and looked at you. he laughed softly at your tired look as he placed a few lingering kisses across your neck, coming to your lips last. “i love you,” he murmured against them.
you smiled gently. “forever?” you asked.
“forever,” Ben confirmed, placing a kiss on your forehead. slowly, he removed his softening cock from your pussy. you both watched his cum mixed with your spill out of you.
you looked up at Ben, eyeing the dark look on his face. you sighed. “morning fun or not, give me at least ten minutes. if not thirty.”
Ben chuckled, moving out from under you and standing in front of you. he swooped you into his arms making you yelp. “let's take a shower. i'll clean you.”
you raised a brow, hands hung around his neck. “just cleaning? that doesn't sound like you,” you retorted with a grin.
Ben smirked, walking you to the bathroom. “you're right. i'll clean you, fuck you, and clean you again.”
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anundyingfidelity · 8 months ago
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BLOOD, SWEAT & TEARS — Billy Butcher, Soldier Boy
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Summary: A normal night where Butcher and his new pal, Soldier Boy, fuck just their stress out with a new toy, you.
Pairing: Billy Butcher x female reader x Soldier Boy
Word count: 1.5k.
Warnings: porn without plot, dom!butcher, dom!ben, one thought of dub-con but not really, double penetration, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, rough sex, vaginal sex, anal sex, unsafe sex (creampie and switching holes basically don't do it, this is just porn), squirting, dirty talk, blowjobs, facial, degradation (usage of whore, slut, etc.), cumplay, some dacryphilia, choking, hair pulling, blood, mentions of violence, Ben and Butcher being kinda jerks, normal misogyny coming from SB, some ego competition, hints to aftercare.
Notes: You already know english is not my main language, not betad and barely revised, lol sorry for the mistakes in here. The amount of horniness I have for these two I swear is not fucking normal. Normally I'd apologize for writing this, but I'm ovulating.
the boys/jackles tags: @k-slla
☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !
GEN MASTERLIST!
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A pair of rough hands held your legs open. Your empty pussy was throbing as Butcher knelt between your thighs rubbing the tip of his cock against your cunt.
You gasped, the man behind you spreading you further for his new team mate to get better access while he fucked your ass senseless. His cock reaching all the right spots. You moaned loudly, almost screaming when Butcher finally pushed inside you. Soldier Boy never seemed to cease his insane thrusts from behind.
"Luv, you're so fucking tight," Butcher grinned, your walls engulfing him perfectly.
They both soon set up a rhythm, one pushing in while the other almost slide out of your hole. Each stroke of their massive cocks inside you exploded something you never felt before. It was a new kind of spark eliciting from the deepest places, and you wanted to come undone there, over and over, forever, between their strong bodies.
"Oh, fuck! Yes right there, god!" you growled, screamed, and cried out incoherences as the two men continued fucking you to bliss.
A layer of sweat covered your skin and you rolled your eyes back, the familiar knot on your belly building up yet again. You didn't have an idea of how much time had passed since you arrived back to the dirty motel. All three of you arrived covered in blood, dirt and the weight of murder, and you still let them take you and you welcomed them the same way. You let them have fun with you however they pleased.
The last thing you remembered from that night was coming back from a mission. Your aching body begging for a shower and good sleep, but Butcher and the new supe found other ways to take their own stress out. You doubted at first. Of course you didn't know it could feel this good. They left bite marks all over your neck, nipped your tits, spanked your thighs open for their mouths to devour you while the other fucked your throat until tears streamed down your cheeks.
They continued bruising and marking your skin. Like a canvas, they left their prints, covering your flesh with different colors all over and used your mouth and pussy as they fucking wanted, granting access to the other, spreading your legs, manhandling you all over the disgusting, shitty room. Then Soldier Boy had the idea of using your ass, just for him, and at first, you were fucking scared. It was all too much. But once he had you ready and stretched enough with his fingers, you quickly fell for his rough touch and his dick, which was as huge as his ego. He was fucking addictive. Both were, in fact, fucking you amazingly hard.
One of Ben's hand wrapped around your neck, climax reaching its peak as Butcher rubbed your clit with his thumb. Your walls clenched around both of them and the vulgar sound of your pussy filled the place along with their skin hitting yours.
"Little slut, gonna cum for us?" Ben said, voice full of lust, pressing your back against his bare chest. You clenched again, his dark chuckle enhanced heaven down your cunt.
Wetness increased between your legs, and you moaned. Louder than ever. The whole place might already know what was happening in the room, but neither Ben or Billy made you shut up. In fact, they wanted you to scream your lungs out.
"Oh, she's definitely gonna cum," Butcher followed, a smirk on his lips. "C'mon sweetheart, don't be shy. Give us one more."
"I-I feel like- fuck!" with a loud cry you squirted all over them, their dicks sliding out of your holes. Shit, that was the harderst you came for the night.
Immediately you tried to close your shaky legs, but Butcher's hands held you in place, pussy clenching around nothing as your fluids coated their hard lenghts and thighs.
"Fucking hell. I'm gonna break you, sugar," Ben hissed, taking your legs and fixing your position on top of him, sliding you down his dick, but this time he claimed your pussy, pistoning in and out of you without any mercy. Even if your body still trembled and you were so fucking overstimulated. You moaned.
Butcher tskd as he watched you, tears streaming down your face and lost in pleassure. "That was mine, pal."
"Yeah, I don't give a fuck- Jesus, she's fucking tight!" Ben hoarsed.
He didn't care about Butcher, he just wanted to fuck you until you passed out and his name was the only thing on your mind.
You whimpered softly. "Please, please," you were getting there again, under the brunette man's dark eyes as the soldier fucked you insane.
But before you reached that sweet peak again, Ben pulled out of you. His strenght forced you to bend over the matress on your hands and knees, Butcher positioned himself right in front of your face. It was so fast and they moved quickly, like a dance already choreographed between them to take advantage of all you got to give.
"Open wide, baby" Butcher ordered. You complied happily, letting his cock touch the back of your throat smoothly.
Ben's rough hands gripped your hips, down your ass, giving a spank on one of your cheeks, making you jump slightly. He grabbed your ass cheeks spreading them to expose your hole, the tip of his cock teased your ass until he slid in a swift motion. You whimpered with your mouth stuffed. He filled you up perfectly and you fucking loved it.
"Such a good cumslut, taking my cock so fucking well," Ben praised, voice husky. He roughly gripped your hair, forcing yourself down more around Butcher's shaft. You gagged, he smirked. "Might just keep you around as my little, personal fuckdoll."
"Fuck- easy there, mate," Butcher warned, as you worked your tongue and lips on his cock as much as you could. "We have another deal, remember?"
Ben smirked cockily at him as you clenched around his cock. You let out a moan muffled by Butcher fucking your mouth. Both their thrusts harder than ever. "Still, I don't give a shit."
Ben's gaze admired you, hands on your hips, as he watched himself shoving into your hole. "You're gonna fucking cum again, you dirty little bitch," he ordered.
"Mmm..." You nodded as best as you could with the twitching cock on your mouth.
Butcher suddenly pulled out of your mouth, a string of saliva leaked down your lips to the tip of his cock. He kept your head in place as much as he could and jerked himself off with his other hand. He came with a hard groan all over your pretty face. His white seed painted your cheeks, lips and your tongue sticking out as you shut your eyes.
"Bloody hell, don't you look ravishing," Butcher whispered darkly. His thumb collected his cum, now mixed with your tears and a small stain of dry blood on your face. He dragged it to your lips so you could taste it. Your plump lips closed around his finger with a moan.
"Insatiable slut, just how I like them," Ben hissed, pulling out of your asshole, making you whimper. "Now, I'm gonna cum inside this pretty little pussy."
He rubbed the tip of his dick on your slit and entered slowly. You felt every inch stretching you out and he slammed into you brutally, he was so fucking close. You could feel it. It surprised you how much they actually endured, their stamina was endless and you lost count of how many times they made you cum already. And yet, you felt that precious sensation anew, soft walls clenching repeatedly around him.
"C'mon whore," Ben gripped on your hair, pulling your back against his muscular chest, taking both your wrists with his other hand. "Cum around my cock."
Your cunt pulsed, he grunted. And you came, again, with shaky legs, shaky breath and the sight of a naked Butcher, who already had taken a seat on the couch in front of the bed. Your orgasm triggered Ben's, and he filled you up completely. You cried out when his fingers found your clit, the grip on your hair long gone now. He continued fucking his cum inside you, balls deep, until he started to soften inside you. His thrusts slowed down little by little.
Ben finally pulled out, letting go of your wrists and you collapsed on your hands and knees on the mattress. He spread out your pussy with his fingers and admired his white cum dripping out of you.
"Well, that was a fucking ride," he smiled. His middle finger wiped his seed and forced it back inside your pulsing cunt. "Fuck, where do you find these kind of women?"
Butcher shrugged. "I have my contacts."
"I'm still here, y'know," you breathed out, rolling on your back.
Ben hovered over your tired figure. Messy hair, cheeks stained with Butcher's cum, teary eyes, and some dry blood spots decorated your face. They did break you and put you back into pieces. He was damn proud of that. He leaned down and sucked into the skin of your neck. You moaned, your fingers tangled on his scalp as his lips carressed your neck, his beard burning on your soft skin.
"Ben, I'm tired," you said, and he stopped his kisses. He shared a suspicious look with Butcher and then locked his lustful green eyes with yours.
The supe winked at you. "Later, doll."
You rolled your eyes and heard Butcher standing up.
"Gonna prepare you a bath, luv," he said as he disappeared inside the bathroom. "Have to take good care of ya."
2K notes · View notes
bittersweetarts · 1 year ago
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How to Disappear - Chapter 1
Soldier Boy (The Boys) x OC
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Word count: 2389 words
Summary: Eden Reid can't help her curiosity, and Soldier Boy can't help but take advantage of that curiosity.
WARNINGS: Some depiction of violence, misogyny, and the usual TW for it being The Boys (Amazon)
Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - AO3 Page
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Chapter 1: An Act of Kindness
Eden Reid was at the start of her daily fucking crack ass of the dawn morning jog across Laurance Harbor Beach, sandy-brown hair up in a high pony, dressed in her usual bland sweats and black running shoes, when she came across him, unconscious along the shoreline, the waves repeatedly caressing him, gently, before retreating.
As she stared at him, the young woman noticed his tattered costume and the bruising littered on his face and skin, and that he did not appear to be breathing. For a moment, Eden contemplated what to do, because she knew that she couldn’t take him to any emergency room or call 911.
Because she knew exactly who he was.
Of course, she knew exactly who he fucking was, pretty much most of the world knew who exactly he fucking was.
He was Soldier Boy, the old leader of Payback, fought in all those important wars in the last century, America’s first and greatest Supe, a man who was supposed to be dead and yet somehow was now alive, lying on the beach in front of her.
And apparently now a Super-Terrorist, according to the news outlets, who for the past week have only been reporting on the attack on the Seven Tower, and how Queen Maeve had successfully saved the country with her sacrificial takedown of Soviet-brainwashed Soldier Boy; his defeat was supposed to be symbolic of a new age for freedom and safety for the masses.
Unlike most of the people Eden knew though, she wasn’t blinded by the lies fed to the masses on a silver spoon by the media and corporations like Vought International.
Eden knew, Eden knew all too well that Supes were nothing but selfish bastards at best, and that none of them give a single fuck about saving others. Eden knew that the mainstream media hyperinflated the heroism of ‘heroes’, and failed to report the deaths of normal civilians, who were nothing more than simply collateral damage. And Eden knew that if she was told that unconscious man lying before her was nothing but a villain, then that was not the full story.
And she knew this all this because if her abilities were not so weak, she would have been just another Supe on Vought or some other fuck’s payroll, spouting the exact same bullshit.
But no, her ability of super strength was, ironically, too weak to even be considered as a D-list Supe, despite her family’s dreams for her, and now in her mid-twenties, she wastes her days away as a receptionist at a private clinic in East Brunswick. So much for the glamorous life of the ‘super-abled’.
However, her abilities were not weak enough apparently to carry the heavy ass man before her. Although he did not appear much taller than she was, he was at least twice her size, and as she lifted him up into her arms, Eden gave a silent prayer, hoping that she wouldn’t see a single living soul as she carried the unconscious vigilante to her car, and that the oversized grey zip that she draped over him concealed his appearance well enough.
What the fuck was is my problem? Eden thought as she dropped Soldier Boy into the trunk of Mazda, a black SUV she bought years ago when she moved out of her childhood home.
Eden didn’t need this shit. It’s been years since she dropped out of Godolkin and left behind the world of fucked up Supes and drugs, and she was at peace living in solitude at her cabin by Norvin Green Forest. She didn’t need to get herself involved in dangerous shit. So why had she gotten herself involved by kidnapping the unconscious man who was lying in the trunk of her vehicle?
Eden couldn’t explain it. To call it a curiosity would be an understatement; it was more like a compulsion. She had acted thoughtlessly, as though she were possessed by something, and now, on her half hour drive back to her home in the woods, Eden began to regret what she had done.
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Days passed and life continued as normal for Eden. She kept her unconscious house guest in a spare bedroom of her small cabin, and went to her 9 to 5 throughout the work week as usual.
In a way, Eden hoped that if Soldier Boy woke up in her home, he would simply leave, and that she would not have to meet him or explain anything. But every evening, following her commute, Eden was greeted by her dark home, and when checking on her guest, she found him unconscious, but still alive and in her spare bed.
Eden often thought about whether she should call the cops or to dump the unconscious Supe back at the beach (or literally anywhere else). But she did not do that, because she knew that by this point, it would simply make her a walking target either for Vought or the government, and really, it was a miracle that she had not been caught transporting him to her place from the beach. For all she knew though, some government entity or Vought was spying on her this very minute.
So instead, the young woman resigned herself to the guest bedroom, where she left Soldier Boy to lay on the queen-sized bed, most of its real estate which he occupied. As he lay there motionless, Eden would periodically cleanse his face and exposed skin with a damp wash cloth (not knowing what else to do that would help him), before covering him with a light blanket. For the rest of the night, Eden would sit on the cream armchair by him, mindlessly watching the news on the small TV set in the room, on low volume, while thinking about anything and everything.
It's not that Eden did not have anything else to do, or that she had no one. Eden prefers to consider her lifestyle as a self-imposed exile, because she knew that she could not rely on anyone. Disconnecting herself from the world, being in nature, was healing to her, and even if she wanted to, she couldn’t get herself to trust anyone, not anymore.
And so, Eden spent several weeks like this, working during the day, going on her daily runs (though now in the forest rather than the beach), and barely sleeping at night, passively watching the news and her unconscious guest, who’s bruising slowly faded away. Soldier Boy looked exactly as he did in his old film, Red Thunder, Eden noticed, and had not aged in the slightest, which bewildered her.
But despite being the vision of health, Soldier Boy did not wake, and Eden did not know what to do.
More often than Eden would like to admit, Eden watched Soldier Boy, observing his long lashes and the way his now steady breathing never wavered – not even when Eden would wipe a damp wash cloth across his body – and she noticed how quickly his stubble grew into a fuller beard, but never to the point of the point of overgrowth, despite the lack of grooming.
Eden also noticed how humorous it was that practically the only topic on the news channels was Soldier Boy himself, and how it was reported that he was not a Super-Terrorist anymore, but an odd dichotomy of hero and victim to Soviet radicalization. And so, the narrative shifted, not that she believed it to be the full truth. Yet something Eden knew to be true was not on any news channel or online forum: Soldier Boy was not dead but alive, albeit unconscious in some cabin hidden away in the mountains.
Or rather that was the truth, until Soldier Boy regained consciousness.
It happened so quickly, and Eden was not entirely awake to even process exactly what happened.
One moment, Eden was drifting into sleep, in her usual seat on the armchair, with the lamp lights dim, the moonlight from the window behind filtering into the room, and the TV white noise drowning out the silence. The next moment, Eden found herself gasping for breath, suffocating, as two strong hands wrapped around her throat, pinning her to the armchair.
Eyes still half-asleep but now tearful, Eden met the vicious stare of her now-awakened guest, and suddenly, she came to her senses. Mustering up all her strength, Eden pushed against his chest, the supe-strength of which took her attacker by slight surprise. His hold on her throat relaxed slightly, and Eden quickly grabbed his wrists to keep his grip loose.
“Let me go –” Eden choked out, trying to breath.
As though confused, Soldier Boy tilted his head, but his expression remained in its remorselessly neutral expression. Fear shot through her veins when Eden realized that her strength did not affect him but rather spiked the smallest amount of curiosity.
“I was just trying to help you.” Eden sputtered out incoherently as she felt the grip began to tighten again. Soldier Boy narrowed his eyes at this, and then right on cue, something else caught his attention.
The tiny TV in the room switched to midnight rerun of The Cameron Coleman Hour on the Vought News Network, and broadcast invaded the room, with the image of Soldier Boy plastered over the screen.
“Good evening everybody, welcome back …” Cameron Coleman’s voice echoed throughout the room.
As it did, Soldier Boy loosened his grip on Eden’s throat, letting her go. Eden’s hand shot up to her neck, strands of her sandy-brown hair falling to her face as she gasped for more air. Her skin felt sore, and she knew that if she were a normal person, she would have been dead by now, at the very least from a broken neck.
“… and please welcome our guest of the evening, Defense Secretary Chris Barney.” The cheering track played on TV bounced off the walls in the guest room, while the camera panned from Cameron Coleman onto a burgeoned man his early-thirties, already balding, and Soldier Boy’s attention was entirely captivated by what was on TV.
“Mr. Secretary, thank you so much for joining us.” Chris Barney, in his mechanical voice, thanked his interviewer as well, and Eden, with her hands on her tender neck, watched as Soldier Boy was entirely captivated by the TV interview.
“I want to kick off by asking you to directly respond to the idea that Soldier Boy and this new age of Super-Terrorism, which involves Supes living in our country, should be the Pentagon and American public’s top concern.”
“See Cameron, I am not going to beat around the bush. Soldier Boy’s attack in Manhattan is an isolated incident, and the FBSA has taken great strides in tackling this matter, and in the mere weeks past, there is already a significant reduction in the number of violent incidences within the public, both super-abled and not. So to answer your question, no it is not a concern for both the Pentagon and America, especially as Soldier Boy is an isolated incident, and dead at that.”
Chris Barney’s voice bounced off the walls, and as it sounded off, and he answered follow up questions relating to terror attacks, which Soldier Boy ignored, as he began to speak over him, his voice both low but loud, full of contempt.
“So that’s it, huh – I’m dead. I’m fucking dead to the American people. Again.”
Eden did not know what to say, and took a step back, the back of her legs now pressed to the wooden side table by the bed.
“I fought for this country. I fucking gave up my life for this fucked up country, and what do I get in return? Fucking nothing.”
As he spoke, spitting out each syllable, Eden noticed how Soldier Boy clinched his fists tightly, and wondered whether he would just destroy her home, or kill her as well. She remained silent, not daring to even breath too loudly as though that would set him off. But Eden’s heart was beating at a million miles per minute, and she was sure that Soldier Boy could hear it.
Reminded of her presence, Soldier Boy turned around and glanced over Eden, as though he were a predator contemplating whether his prey was worthy of slaughter. His deliberation lasted only a few moments. With only two tall strides, Soldier Boy, in his tattered costume, came face-to-face with the young woman stood before him, brushing away a thick strand that had fallen in front of her eyes.
“What’s your name doll?”
Soldier Boy’s voice was deep, and though he did not swear or say anything malignant, Eden was still frightened, but willed herself to not shake in her fuzzy slippers.
“Eden,” Eden responded quietly, but Soldier Boy’s furrowed eyebrows made her paranoid that he either hadn’t heard her, or that she hadn’t actually said anything.
“Eden Reid, um, Sir.” Eden said once again, only slightly more audibly, while looking to the ground, so as to avoid his burning stare. At this, Soldier Boy chuckled and gently took push a hand to her chin, tilting her face upwards, making her look back at him again.
“Well, aren’t you sweet, Miss Reid.” Soldier Boy spoke, the side of his mouth tilting upwards. Inching his face closer, he continued speaking, his breath blowing over Eden’s face. “Have you got any pills, sweetheart?”
Eden shook her head slowly, now shaking slightly and regretting her personal stance on being drug-free.
“Weed?”
Eden shook her head again, and she felt her heart speed up anymore. At this, Soldier Boy turned away to let out a frustrated sigh, before facing her again.
“A good girl. Surely you can be resourceful and find something, doll. Age of feminism and all.”
Soldier Boy’s tone was condescending, but thankfully, Eden knew that her co-worker, Matt, had an affinity for her and substance abuse, so she might be able to score something from him. Pressing her lips together, Eden nodded, which made Soldier Boy smile. Letting go of her chi, Soldier Boy turned around and sat on the armchair to his right, paying attention to the TV again, which was still playing the Cameron Coleman interview rerun.
“Well then, chop-chop sweetheart. And afterwards, you can tell me where the fuck I am and why the fuck I’m here with you.”
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Author's Note: This is an AU story where rather than getting captured, Soldier Boy/Ben ends up projecting himself into the Hudson River. I am not a Geography or Physics major, so none of this actually makes sense or is realistic.
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– Chapter 2
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em-ontv · 3 months ago
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Hii, I was wondering if you could write something for Soldier Boy? Just something where he’s down bad and obsessed with the reader? Love your writing, thank you 😭
Honestly, thank you for this, I needed it to feed into my Soldier Boy delusions. Here you go, anon! Hope you like it <3
Guilty pleasure.
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Pairing: Soldier Boy x fem!supe!reader
Warnings: vulgar language/cursing, obsessive behavior, Ben is really down bad, no use of y/n, English is not my first language, mistakes should be present, apologies beforehand :)
Word count: 439
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Ben was the fucking Soldier Boy, the All-American hero, the one-man army who could singlehandedly fight a whole battalion. He had the whole country eating out of the palm of his hand. But he had a secret — a guilty pleasure, if you will. And it was you.
You were more than just a supe. You were a sensation, neatly crafted by Vought to be the perfect girl. The kind that made men weak in the knees.
And Ben was no different.
Yeah, you had no fucking clue, but he had a serious crush on you. He was your biggest fucking fan, and he felt pathetic about it — Soldier Boy didn't do crushes, but here he was.
He had stacks and stacks of magazines of you, posters hung up on the walls of his room, and even some rare, limited-edition shit that he paid top dollar for. He'd never admit it, but he had spent countless hours staring at printed images of your face, tearing his way through Supe Weekly to find you in there. It was ridiculous, and he knew it, but that didn't stop him from acting like a totally obsessed fanboy every time he saw your face anywhere he walked.
America's hardest badass — hoarding fan memorabilia like a fucking teenager — what a joke. And he'd be damned if one of his teammates from Payback ever found out about his little obsession with you, he'd never be able to live it down, but he’d probably punch their skulls in.
So when the word came down that Payback had a working opportunity with you, Ben almost lost his shit. He'd practically jumped out of his chair when the news hit. But he wanted to keep it cool — be the stoic leader who didn't bat an eye at you. But inside? He was thrilled. A chance to meet you, to work alongside you? It was like someone had handed him Christmas on a silver platter.
When the day finally came, Ben stood in front of the mirror in his quarters, checking his reflection for the twentieth time. The thought of embarrassing himself in front of you made his stomach twist.
And the conference room.
He was fighting the urge to just bolt for the door. And then you walked in. Holy shit, you were even better in person. It made his brain short-circuit when you walked directly to him.
"Soldier Boy," you greeted, your voice smooth. "Been looking forward to this."
When Ben opened his mouth to speak, nearly no sound came out except for a voice crack. And it was at this moment that he knew. He was fucked.
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shamrockqueen · 1 year ago
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Soldier Boy
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