#soft soldier boy

[globetrotter28]

Another Cover Up Masterlist

Fandom: The Boys

Soldier Boy x Reader

Summary: After Herogasm, Butcher, Hughie and Soldier Boy realise they might need more reinforcements. After doing more research, they discover the woman who was also injected with Compound V alongside Soldier Boy back in the 40’s. Everyone also thought she was KIA that day at Nicaragua. But if Soldier Boy was still alive… maybe she was too?

Part 1

Part 2 

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

[zepskies]

Hello. I was wondering if you could write an imagine in the BMD-verse (been following it for a while now; love, love, love it, by the way!) where Ben cries?

Like something really bad happens in general or to the Reader, and he losses it? I mean, personally, I have never known this man to cry, and I would love to see you conjure up something that could possibly elicite that reaction from him.

But no pressure - will definitely understand if you don't want to write it!

Oooh, so you really wanna kill me, huh? 🫠😭😭

Lol it's okay, thank you for loving Break Me Down!! It's one of my favorite story verses that I've been able to create on here. ❤️❤️

This request was difficult for me on multiple levels, but I think I was able to pull it off? (I'll let you be the judge.) This is set in the BMD-verse, shortly after "Love Actually."

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader

Word Count: 2,400 Tags/Warnings: Major angst, show-level violence, hurt/comfort, "twist" ending (you'll want to read until the end, trust me).

Imagine: Ben loses you.

Ben restrained another sigh when he realized you were no longer walking next to him.

He turned and saw you stopping in another damn kiosk, this time looking at a selection of Pashmina scarves. As if you didn’t have enough clothes.

“We’re not here for a damn shopping spree,” he called after you.

He ignored the people who glanced at him as they walked past, a couple of them even shooting him an annoyed look.

One didn’t just stop in the middle of a busy sidewalk in New York City, but as with most societal protocols, Ben couldn't really give a fuck.

He almost started tapping his foot. Instead, he crossed his arms as he glared in your general direction. You were smiling and chatting with the woman selling her wares as you finished the transaction.

Ben at least could admire the view of you bent over in those tight jeans and ankle boots. You also wore the dark green winter coat he bought you last month, lined with faux fur to keep you warm.

When you eventually came back to him, you shot him an amused smile. You held a new scarf in shades of green and blue, to match your coat. But you also held out a new pair of leather gloves for him.

“Here you go, Grumpy. I didn't forget about you,” you teased. He raised a wry brow at you and took the gloves. He inspected them with a half-critical eye.

“And how much did these cost, five cents?”

You rolled your eyes and kept walking. He caught up with you and slipped the gloves into his pocket.

“My hands don’t get cold anyway,” he reminded you. And you often complained that his body heat was like a radiator, especially at night. Although, you hadn’t been complaining since the winter turned frigid this February.

“All right, whatever. Just don’t say I never get you anything,” you quipped. “Besides, you know you love to accessorize.”

A smirk pulled at Ben’s lips. The gloves were a half-assed gift, but he still wore the watch you got him for Christmas proudly on his wrist. That was a nice silver Rolex.

“All I know is, we’d better not be late for this damn meeting,” he said. “I don’t wanna hear Mallory’s fucking mouth.”

The two of you had made a day of coming into the city, hitting a nice brunch spot and ice skating at Rockefeller center before your date had been rudely interrupted—by a call for a new mission.

Grace Mallory had been a bit cryptic on the phone, but it had something to do with the mess Ben left of the drug cartels in South America. After they got back to the States, Ben left that “business” behind…he just hadn’t thought of how that would shake out in Colombia.  

So now, you two were headed to the Supe Affairs building. You slipped your arm around his, while his hands were in his pockets. You looked up at him with a smile.

“Try to enjoy the little things, Ben,” you told him. “We had mimosas and some bougie ass lobster tails with our eggs this morning. I skated circles around you on the ice. And now we’re going to get some work done.”

“On our day off,” he retorted.

“To be fair, you made the mess, Mr. Kingpin,” you pointed out. “We’ve just gotta clean it up…as usual.”

“Hey," he eyed you. But you both knew the warning had little heat behind it.

He still reached for your cheek and brushed his thumb across it. He felt how cold your face was, and he stopped for a moment in the middle of the sidewalk. Neither of you cared when pedestrians gave you dirty looks as they passed by.

Maybe you were right though. Maybe he should take stock of the small moments. Ben held your face with both hands and caressed some warmth back into your skin.

Your smile softened, and your eyes closed when his lips found their way to your forehead. He then took the newly bought scarf out of your hand and wrapped it comfortably around your neck.

“What a gentleman,” you said, with a small grin.

Ben smirked down at you…until his face fell.

He heard the whistle of the bullet before he saw it.

It took him another second to move, grabbing you and shielding you with his entire body when it hit his back. The bullet itself bounced harmlessly off his skin, but the inner compartment of Novichok exploded like a small smoke bomb. The smell was too familiar to him to be anything else.

Ben coughed and was forced to push you away from him before the gas reached you. You yelped and almost tripped on your feet, but you scrambled back against the wall of a drycleaners. Your wide eyes met his as his knees buckled; the gas had clouded around his head.

“Run!” he shouted through fits of coughing.

You hesitated, for just a second. But when another bullet ricocheted into the wall behind you, near your head, you ducked and had to take off running.

You wove through the busy sidewalk, pushing people out of your way as you went. Whoever was after him this time, you had a feeling these were the people Ben had pissed off in Colombia.

Fuck! You sprinted past an alleyway and saw the hand coming for your arm, but even when you turned, there was another man, dressed a black military-style uniform with his face covered by a black mask, waiting to grab you from behind.

It was muscle memory. You released an elbow into the man’s neck, a punch straight into his teeth and nose, then kicked his knee out with the heel of your boot.

You grabbed your gun from under your jacket and would've shot him, except the next man wheelhouse kicked it out of your hand. You stepped back on instinct, ducking the following punch, and the rest of his arm to run in the opposite direction.

The first man pointed a large automatic gun straight in your face. You gasped and put your hands up. With a quick glance in either direction, you realized that they’d cornered you.

Your hands were pulled behind your back by someone else. That’s when they started dragging you toward a black SUV parked in the corner.

Except that car was soon destroyed, by an old Honda Civic being shoved into it. The SUV's hood constantined like an accordion.

You looked up with wide eyes, and there stood Ben, at the crossroads of the alley. He was furious.

“Soldier Boy,” greeted the man who once again held the automatic gun poised at you. He pulled down his mask, revealing the tan face of a middle-aged man.

He moved over to you and grabbed your arm from his subordinate. He raised the gun to your back. With one press of his finger, your insides could become Swiss cheese.

Your jaw clenched as you tried to take in even breaths. You focused on Ben. His green eyes met yours, and briefly you caught the worry behind them before his steely gaze moved back to the man who held you.

“Pretty ballsy, Reyes,” Ben said. His voice was a drawl, more controlled than he felt. “You really thought this was gonna go down that easy?”

Reyes scoffed. “You’re the ballsy one. Taking off with all that product you stole.”

“You’ll have to take up with the CIA on that one,” Ben replied. “They confiscated all the smack from my place. Probably reselling it to a few hobos down the street. You’re welcome to check under the bridge over there.”

He gestured in the direction of the Hudson River.  

Reyes shrugged. The sound of a gun’s safety being clipped back resounded through the alley. You felt the vibration of it on your back. Your eyes closed for a moment.

“Bad news for her,” he said.

"Hey," Ben snapped. "There's no fucking need for that."

"I think I'll decide what we need," said Reyes. Your lips pursed as the gun dug into your back. "Maybe it's your bitch's insides at your feet."

Ben slowly raised a placating hand. Though his gait was still relaxed and arrogant, as always, you knew it was a well-crafted act. To hide his anger. His fear. To seem in control of himself, and to reinforce the intimidating presence he still was, even unarmed.

“Listen. If it’s money you want, we can work it out,” Ben replied.

His eyes once again found yours. He could see you were holding your breath. You were good at hiding it, but he knew you were scared. He wanted to tell you that he had this handled. That everything would be all right.

He focused on Reyes again. The other man considered the supe with a tilt of his head. He sucked his teeth and spit on the ground, out of the corner of his mouth. It was mixed with a bit of blood from when you'd punched him in the teeth.

“Okay, my friend,” said Reyes. “Let’s work this out. Pull out your phone.”

Ben made slow movements in grabbing his phone from his pocket. They all stepped further into the alley to avoid prying eyes and discussed the transfer of funds, and how much was fair. Ben claimed he was giving him a deal with his first offer.

Reyes demanded three times that amount. Ben raised his brows...but he complied. The money transferred from his bank account.

“Okay, we’re fucking done,” Ben snarked. He gestured at you with his eyes. “Let her go.”

In his mind, he was already contemplating how thoroughly he'd rip Reyes apart for this. After you were safe. He'd have a first class ticket to Medellin by tonight, ready to Colombian-necktie this cocksucker.

Reyes sighed through his nose. There was still about ten feet between him and Ben. He didn't seem to think it was enough. He took the gun off your back and backed up with you a few steps. Eventually, he released your arm.

“Come ‘ere, sweetheart,” Ben reached a hand out, beckoning for you. You met his gaze once again, and let out a subtle breath.

You took three hesitant steps forward.

And the gunshots echoed horribly through the alley.

As it turned out, Reyes always had an escape plan. You were merely the distraction.

It proved effective, as Ben’s protest rang out as soon as the bullets fired. He raced forward and caught you as you stumbled, but his hands soon became coated in your blood; it fled from your back in thin rivulets.

You gasped and clung to his arms. His ears rang with the sound, along with tires squealing and shouts and police sirens. All he could focus on was the color draining from your face.

Both of your breaths came out ragged as he slid with you down to his knees. He brushed your hair away from your face, even as his blood-covered hand stained your cheek. Your pained eyes drew up to his face. You tried to speak, but you didn't have the strength.

“I hear the sirens. They’re coming for you, take you to the hospital,” he promised. His voice was rough, but his throat was tight. His eyes scanned over you. “All you need is my blood and…Christ. Fuck it all.”

He laid you down on the dirty asphalt and hurriedly yanked up his coat sleeve until it ripped. It exposed his arm. He was about to drag a blunt nail across his own skin to bleed into you.

“Ben.” Your fingers twitched against his knee.

When he looked at your face, there was no longer life in your eyes.

His own were wide, almost uncomprehending. His breathing was harsh as empty hands fell to his thighs. His head felt heavy, though his ears were still ringing.

He drew enough strength in his hand to wipe the blood from your cold cheek…but your face was beginning to blur.

Or not, he realized, as the sting in his eyes took him by surprise.

In a fit of mania, he gathered you back up in his arms and ignored the wetness covering your back. He held you, impossibly tight. Tighter than he’d ever held you, because he was alone in the alley…because he was alone again.

And it was his own fault.

His eyes squeezed shut against the burn, but it was futile. Everything was. His breaths were sharp and stifled as pain tore inside. A pain worse than anything the Russian's could've inflicted on him.

His lips pressed against your forehead, trembling there. The first drops of wetness rolled down his cheek. He couldn't stop it from happening, but then again. He guessed he truly was a failure, after all.

You made the mess…

His first tears had been spent at his mother’s funeral, when he stood alone at her gravestone.

His last ones would fall and die with you.

“Ben,” your voice was soft but insistent.

He finally woke with a start. A sharp inhale through his nose.

He had been sleeping on his side. Before he even truly registered where he was, in the safety of his bedroom, he turned his head toward you.

His eyes found your face in the dark, over his shoulder. Your hair was frizzy from sleep. The strap of your nightgown had fallen off one shoulder. Your face looked bleary and tired, but you frowned in concern.

“You okay, baby?” you asked. Your hand soothed across the dewy skin on his arm.

Ben’s throat constricted. He was starting to remember bits and pieces of the dream…the nightmare. He rubbed at his eyes, then dragged a hand over his mouth.

“Yeah,” he said at last.

“Hmm.” Your gaze narrowed at him. “You sure?”

Ben had only enough energy in him to nod in response. His heart was still racing. Maybe you sensed that, because you leaned onto his arm and dropped a hand down his chest. You kissed his bare shoulder with soft lips, and he couldn’t help himself.

He raised a hand to cup the back of your head. He let out a long, relieved sigh through his nose, closing his eyes. Then he turned onto his back and brought you closer, with an arm slipping around your frame and pulling you against his chest. You made a sound of surprise, but you went willingly.

You brushed the sweaty strands of hair away from his face and pressed a kiss against his neck, to his jaw, his cheek and above his brow. He accepted it all and tried to calm his breathing with the feeling of your touch, and the smell of your flowery soap that lingered on your skin.

With a hand still cupping your head, he guided your lips to his. He claimed you slowly, but with purpose. You answered him by tilting your head, deepening the kiss for a moment.

You parted from him just as slowly. You knew everything wasn’t okay, but you also knew it wasn’t the time to push him for an answer.

Maybe in the morning, you thought. …I’ll make pancakes. Haven't done that in a while. And he’s always happier with something sweet.

You rested contentedly against his warm chest and let his heartbeat, gradually slowing back into a steady rhythm, lull you back to sleep.

Ben tangled his fingers into your hair. He laid one more kiss on the top of your head.

And for damn sure, he was going to cancel that trip into the city tomorrow.

AN: I know, I know. The "it was all a dream" thing is super cheesy, but I couldn't leave it on heartbreak. I just don't have it in me with these two. 🥲❤️‍🩹

Read the Sequel:

A friend of mine requested a sequel to this imagine: "You confront Ben about his fears."

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

BMD Tag List (Part 1):

@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 @kazsrm67

[intynidad]

yayayayayayayya!

Imagine a Soldier, a DILF,Huge, muscular, and so intimidating! But there are a few drawbacks.. He is VERY possessive and overprotective! (Yandere)

He can’t see you with another man! Or even the thought of a man breathing in your direction is enough for him to throw a sharpened knife at his head.. Even women are rivals to him.. He is a MaleWife! I’m his free time he wants to take care of you! like imagine the pink frills and bows but with camouflage pants and dog tags..

And the way he looks at you.. with so much adoration and love.. Even after transforming into a beast a few moments ago and glaring at the one who dared to even look at his sweet darling!

Scary dog privileges!! A huge almost 7 foot man stalking behind you with a preditorial gaze.. Sending death glares at anyone who passes near you..

you don’t know how he is so stealthyfor being so huge..

Has a huge and muscular body! So he has huge hands and arms.. With lots of bulging veins!

(Imagine grabbing his moobies after a hard day of work.. He would moan and whimper like a bitch in heat.. a string of Thank yous coming out his mouth..)

I imagine he has a hidden piercing probably on his tongue.. but no one knows.. except you.. but isn’t noticeable because he wears a balaclava at work!

Petnames!: Darling, Sweethear, Angel, My love, Princess, Lovely

It took some time but i really like how it came out owo

I got a little lazy on the end but is still good

TW: yandere behavior, description of violence(not towards reader), use of pet names (sugar cube and darling), female oriented reader ??? Tell me if i miss anything owo

Enjoy !

War was not kind to anyone.

First, your father was drafted to fight on the front lines. He tried to write every time he could, but one day, you and your mother stopped getting any letters. That's when you knew it - that your father was dead.

Your now-widowed mother was absolutely heartbroken. You tried to initiate a conversation, saying, -"Hello, Mom,"- but were only met with silence. This is how things have been going since the news of your father. It’s been a lonely and difficult time for your family.

You often found yourself staring out of the window, watching the seasons change. The world outside seemed to carry on as if nothing had happened, while inside your home, there was a void that couldn't be filled.

You saw how the war started to consume your little neighborhood, first your father, then your mother, and now your friends.

"I can't believe it," you said with a shaky voice. "You can't leave me."

You clutched the small phone in your hands while the other person on the line gave a low chuckle, full of sadness. "I know, I know. It's not like I want to."

"Dylan, please," you begged, your voice choked with a sob. "You're sick. You can't go to fight."

"I can't just stay still while the war consumes our lives, sugar cube," Dylan replied with determination. "Listen, I'm going to do everything I can to stay in contact, but I refuse to stay still while our enemies burn our homes and kill our people."

You understood his sentiment, but the fear of losing yet another person you loved was overwhelming. The war had taken so much from you already, and you didn't want to lose Dylan as well.

"Dylan, promise me you'll be safe. Promise me you'll come back," you pleaded.

"I promise I'll do my best, sugar cube," Dylan said softly. "And I promise we'll be together again when this nightmare is over."

As the call ended, you clutched the phone tightly, tears streaming down your face, thinking of the destiny of one of your closest friends. With your vision blurry, that's when you saw it:

[Be the hero of our heroes!]

[Become a war nurse and help today!]

——-

The training was fairly easy, but the hardest part was saying goodbye to your mother. It wasn't because of the response she gave you, but rather the lack of it. The war had taken so much from her, and you leaving to join the medical corps was another sacrifice she had to bear in silence.

After three months of training and preparation, you reached your destination - the front lines. Well, it wasn't exactly the front lines where bullets flew, but it was a place where you felt like you were helping. The makeshift field hospital was a hive of activity, with wounded soldiers being brought in, and the dedicated medical team doing their best to save lives and ease suffering.

Your heart swelled with a mix of fear and determination as you donned your nurse's uniform. You had a newfound respect for the doctors and nurses who worked tirelessly in these conditions, and now, you were one of them.

Every day, you encounter injured soldiers, each with their own story of bravery and sacrifice. You offered comfort, administered care, and listened to their fears and hopes. It was a harsh environment, but the camaraderie and shared purpose among the medical staff gave you strength.

As you continued your work on the front lines, you knew that this was where you were meant to be, where you could honor your father's memory, support your friends, and be a beacon of hope in the darkness of war.

That was until one particularly slow day. Well, as slow as it could be in a war hospital. You were preparing some medical supplies for the medics to take to their respective camps when a superior of yours called you.

-"Y/N! Could you come over and take care of this new patient? I'm kinda busy right now,"- the woman said in a calm tone.

-"Sure, just send them back here, and I'll take care of them,"- you responded.

Her tone was pretty chill, so it was probably just a bruise or maybe a cold. You were preparing some medicine and band-aids when you felt a small tap on your shoulder.

-"I'm sorry to keep you waiting; please have a sea-" When you turned around, you were shocked to see a man - no, a practical giant - towering over you.

The soldier was immense, with a rugged face that bore the scars of battle. He had a stern, almost intimidating expression, and it was clear that he had seen his fair share of combat. As he hunched down to enter the tent, you couldn't help but feel a mix of awe and trepidation.

-“Captain Samuel Reynolds, a pleasure to make your acquaintance"- he said in a deep, gravelly voice. His uniform was tattered and stained, and he clutched his side in obvious pain.

-"Y/N,"- you replied, trying to regain your composure. You quickly gestured for him to sit on one of the makeshift beds. As he eased himself down, it became apparent that he was wounded, a bandage around his abdomen stained with blood.

-"I heard you're the best nurse in this place,"- he said, his voice filled with both gratitude and a touch of humor.

You blushed at the compliment. The reality was that you were just doing your best, like all the others in the medical corps. You started to assess his injuries, trying to hide your nervousness as you worked to remove the soiled bandage.

-"You've been through quite a lot,"- you commented as you cleaned the wound.

Samuel winced, but he nodded. -"The front lines aren't a picnic, that's for sure. But I've seen worse."

As you stitched up his wound and administered medication, you couldn't help but feel watched as his gaze practically pierced through you. But you continued to do your work, focused on providing the best care you could.

-"Okay, that should do for the bleeding, Mr. Reynolds. Let me go grab some bandages and some painkillers for you,"- you said.

His response caught you off guard, -"...why?"- Samuel said, almost confused about your reasoning.

-"Because, um, you are hurt?"- You stammered, wondering if you had said something wrong.

-"Thanks for the offer, sweetheart, but this pain won't kill me. Plus, there are some other people around that probably need those painkillers and bandages more than me,"- Samuel said matter-of-factly. He expected it to be the end of the conversation. You would probably tell him okay and assign him a bed, and that would be the end of it.

But you surprised him with your firm resolve. -"No,"- you said.

-"Thanks, so I will be going to my bed, then,"- Samuel was more than confused when he registered your words.

-"Wait, what?"- he asked.

-"I'm sorry, Captain, but with all due respect, I will not allow you to do that,"- you said firmly.

-"Do what?"- Samuel was clearly taken aback.

-"I'm sorry, but as long as you are here, I'm in charge of you, and I won't let any of my patients go suffering when they can perfectly take some rest and medication,"- you said, giving him a small, determined smile. It was clear that you weren't going to back down.

Samuel's eyes met yours, and he seemed to be processing your words. His tough exterior had met its match in your unwavering dedication to your patients' well-being.

As you delicately applied pressure to his wounds to wrap them up in bandages, Samuel couldn't help but feel his heart skip a beat. The way your hands worked so skillfully and delicately had a calming effect, and he found himself strangely drawn to your touch. It was as if your care had the power to make his pain vanish.

However, the sensation of your fingers on his skin made him nervous. His heart raced, and he couldn't quite understand why he felt this way. Samuel, a battle-hardened captain, suddenly felt a wave of discomfort.

-"I'm sorry, but are you okay?"- you asked, looking into his eyes as you reached your hand to his forehead. -"You're a little bit hot."

-"I'm f-fine,"- he stammered, full of shame. How was it possible that he was suddenly stuttering? What was happening to him?

Samuel couldn't quite comprehend the mix of emotions he was experiencing. Here he was, a soldier used to facing danger and making difficult decisions, and yet in this moment, your caring presence and gentle touch had him feeling vulnerable in a way he had never felt before.

A couple of weeks passed, and you continued to care for him. It didn't take much time for Samuel to realize that he was in love. A cold-blooded soldier had become completely enamored by a tiny (in comparison to him) nurse. He couldn't help but follow you with his gaze as you waltzed around the hospital, tending to the wounded and offering comfort with your warm smile.

He felt a profound happiness with you in his life. The war, which had taken so much from him, had also given him something unexpected – love.

One day, when his wounds were practically all healed up, he went for a run around the hospital perimeters. Part of it was to use some of the energy he had built up during his recovery, but deep down, he also wanted to make sure you were safe.

During his run, he stumbled upon a small river with water lilies floating on its surface. They were small in comparison to his massive hands, delicate and beautiful, just like you. Samuel found himself captivated by their fragility and elegance.

He decided then and there. He would confess his feelings to you when the sun went down. Those lilies, a symbol of the tenderness he had discovered in the midst of war, would be his gift to you. They represented the love that had grown in his heart, unexpected and pure, just like the delicate blossoms on the river.

He advanced with a spark to his feet, feeling his heart sincronice to each step he took.

At the entrance of your “office” (it was just a big tent but you liked to call it that) , he called out to you, -"Um, Miss Y/N, are you there?"- He couldn't help but feel a certain nervousness in his voice. It was an unfamiliar feeling for him, like he was a teenager again, not a battle-hardened soldier.

When he didn’t hear anything he decided to just enter and wait for you.

It was weird. You usually would check for medical supplies and then come back to your tent to put on your uniform and THEN start the day…not like he had your whole schedule memorized of anything.

He started to worry. Maybe you had been distracted or were in some kind of danger. The concern for your well-being began to overshadow his initial nervousness. He scanned the tent, looking for any signs of where you might be or if there was trouble.

He bolted to his feet again running to the “hospital”, full with worry.

When he got there he asked to another nurse if they had see you

-“oh, Y/N. O boy let me tell´ya. They been all lovely dovey with somebody on the back”-

-…what- Samuel felt his heart freeze

The nurse continued without noticing -“ya’ apparently it was an old friend of them. Let me tell’ya boy. The moment that guy enter she almost fainted of happiness. She was like “omg its been so long and””-

Samuel stopped listening half way through. He didn’t care about that guy.

He cared about you.

Who was this guy

How do you know him

He was dangerous?

Was he an enemy ?

He walked with a heavy step. Until he hear a small voice sniffling.

Samuel froze. It was you.

-“aww don’t worry sugar cube. I’m alright told ya’”- a voice he didn’t recognize talked to you

He cringed at the nickname the stranger gave you. Sugar cube

Yes you were sweet and all of that but he had no right to call you that.

-im sorry Dylan is just that *sob* the tears don’t stop- you responded

Dylan huh…where did he heard that name before.

He peeked a little and what he saw made his blood boil.

You were there with tears staining your beautiful face. And that disgusting man was kissing them away. Like he had any right to do that.

He continued to observe in silence.

He saw how this man sat you on his lap while kissing you.

At this point the lilies were long forgotten crushed to mere crumbs into his hands.

And when he saw Dylan slowly caress your leg he couldn’t stand there any longer.

He opened the curtain that separated you three and walked with a heavy step.

-“may i know what you are doing, soldier?”- his voice low and authoritative

Dylan that was not paying attention, bolted his head toward him and with super speed put you down on his side

-S-Sir i'm sorry is- Dylan tried to explain himself while he brushed up his uniform

-“I don’t want to hear it,soldier. Identify yourself and your section”-

-“Dylan Ramirez sir. I just got transfer to site 2-A sir.”-

Ah. That where he knew him. He was a new transfer to HIS section.

-why are you in this stablishment and not reporting to me of your arrival- samuel said with maybe a little to much volume

-“i wanted to say hello to nurse Y/N sir. She is an old friend sir.”-

Friend…he didn’t believe that bullcrap

-i want you out and to run 10 laps around the perimeter.NOW-

And with that Dylan rise to his feet and run towards the exit.

You that were looking at the whole exchange. Felt slightly intimidated. Like the first time you met Samuel. He been so nice with you that you forgot that he is a high rank in the troops.

When your two sights encounter you couldn’t help but look to the ground.

-“are you alright?”- say Samuel on a voice much, much softer than the one he used with Dylan.

You didn’t say anything.

-“is just that…I heard you cry and got worried”- that was partially the truth but he was sure you wouldn’t mind.

-“yea i apologize for the whole scene…Mr Samuel”- you said with a hint of shame on your voice

-“you don’t have to apologize for anything,darling. Is just we are going tomorrow to the front lines again and maybe im a little nervous”- another half truth but alas it was for the best.

-“can i ask you to do something for me?”- you said, still looking at the ground

Oh if only you knew what he would do for you

-whatever you need-

-Please take care of Dylan on the front lines. He is a very important person to me-

Why. Why he was such an important person to you?.

Why does he had that he didn’t?

Why you looked at them without fear and when you looked at him your gaze was on the ground?

Why

Why

WHY

-“sure. Ill make sure Dylan is taken care of”- samuel say after a moment

-“thank you”- you said with a small smile

…..

He still though of that small interaction. He almost felt a hint of guilt for breaking his promise. Almost

He choose Dylan as his second in command to investigate a supposedly abandoned enemy base. That way they could maybe find supplies or a hint to end this war.

He had done this dozens of times.

The feeling of the bone breaking and the warmth of the blood on his hands. But the adrenaline on his veins this time made it a little different. Almost like if it was more personal.

If he had to compare Dylan to an animal it would probably be a deer of some kind.

A frail and sickly one but still a deer

First it was a shoot to the leg. He screamed in pain as he fell to the ground but we both knew that nobody would come.

Then Samuel stepped on his hand with all his force. It made a crack that send a pleasant chill to his own spine.

The beating continued for a while. For too little time on Samuel’s opinion and if Dylan had the ability to speak he probably said it was for far too long.

But no one can really talk with a broken jaw and without a tongue.

When he came back to the base. Nobody question the story of an ambush.

Nobody question that fact that his knife was missing.

Why would they?

After all he was the first in command. He was the commander Samuel

But the acting when he came back to you was supreme. Maybe he should had been an actor instead of a soldier but anyway.

You cried and screamed and punched the air.

It did broke his heart that you looked so sad. But don’t worry he would be here for you as long as you need him

And you wouldn’t need anybody else.

[lila-lou]

✨ His only exception - Pt. 16/? ✨

Summary: 12 months ago, Butcher went above and beyond to have you join his team. You had a simple office job at Supe Affairs. The same thing every day, working from 9 to 5 and watching Butcher and his team defeat one renegade after another. One evening, however, something changed.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: Language, Violence, soft Ben

Word Count: 5612

A/N: This is part 16 of “His only exeption”.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

Homelander's gaze narrowed, a sardonic smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Oh, have I now?", he retorted, his voice oozing with disdain. "And what, pray tell, do you think you can do?".

Soldier Boy's expression darkened, a cold fury burning in his eyes as he took a step closer to Homelander. "I'm going to make you regret every fucking thing you've done".

A tense silence fell between them, the air crackling with the anticipation of violence as they stood locked in a deadly standoff. Each knew that the other was a formidable opponent, and neither was willing to back down without a fight.

With a surge of aggression, Soldier Boy lunged forward, his fists clenched tightly as he prepared to unleash his fury upon Homelander. But Homelander was ready, his eyes gleaming with malicious intent as he braced himself for the coming onslaught.

The clash between them was inevitable, a collision of power and rage that would shake the very foundations of the room. And as the first blow was struck, the echoes of their battle reverberated through the darkness, marking the beginning of a confrontation that would determine the fate of them both.

The clash between Soldier Boy and Homelander erupted with a ferocity that seemed to shake the very walls. Soldier Boy moved with the precision and grace of a trained warrior, his movements fluid and calculated as he launched a barrage of punches and kicks at Homelander.

Homelander, however, was no stranger to combat. With superhuman speed and strength, he deftly dodged Soldier Boy's attacks, his movements almost graceful in their efficiency. Each blow he delivered carried the full force of his immense power.

Undeterred, Soldier Boy pressed forward, his determination unwavering as he launched a relentless assault on Homelander. Blow after blow rained down upon his opponent, each strike fueled by a burning desire for revenge.

As the fight raged on, it became increasingly clear that neither combatant was willing to yield. They fought with a primal ferocity, their movements fueled by a potent mix of anger and determination.

With a thunderous crash, Soldier Boy sent Homelander hurtling through the wall and into the dimly lit hallway beyond. The force of the impact echoed through the corridor, sending debris flying in all directions as the two superpowered beings collided with bone-jarring force.

As the dust settled, Butcher and the rest of the team rushed forward, their expressions set in grim determination as they prepared to join the fray. With weapons drawn and muscles tensed, they charged towards the scene of the battle, ready to confront their formidable adversary head-on.

But Homelander was quick to recover, his eyes flashing with fury as he rose to his feet, his gaze fixated on his newfound adversaries. With a snarl of rage, he launched himself at the approaching team, his fists lashing out with lethal precision.

Butcher and the others met his onslaught head-on, their weapons clashing against Homelander's superhuman strength in a frenzied melee of steel and flesh. Blow after blow was exchanged as they fought with all their might, each member of the team determined to bring down Homelander.

The hallway became a battleground, the air thick with the sound of grunts and curses. But despite their best efforts, Homelander seemed unstoppable, his power seemingly limitless as he fought with a ferocity born of desperation.

But just when it seemed as though all hope was lost, a glimmer of light appeared on the horizon. With a roar of defiance, Soldier Boy re-entered the fray.

As Soldier Boy’s chest began to glow, the team’s eyes widened in horror, knowing the destructive power that lay dormant within him. With a sense of urgency, they turned and fled, their footsteps echoing through the deserted corridors as they raced to escape the impending explosion.

With a deafening roar, Soldier Boy’s chest erupted in a blinding flash of light, the force of the explosion sending shockwaves rippling through the building. Walls crumbled as the immense power unleashed by Soldier Boy tore through the structure with unstoppable force.

Homelander, caught off guard by the sudden blast, was hurled from the building with the force of a cannonball, his body tumbling through the air before crashing to the ground below.

As the chaos ensued, the rest of the team stormed towards the scene to apprehend Homelander, their determination driving them forward amidst the debris and destruction. Meanwhile, Soldier Boy's attention was drawn to a different target as he turned and sprinted towards your unconscious form, his heart pounding with urgency.

Reaching your side, Soldier Boy skidded to a halt, his eyes wide with concern as he took in the sight of your battered and bloodied body. Without hesitation, he knelt beside you, his hands trembling as he checked for signs of life.

Finding a faint pulse, Soldier Boy's relief was palpable, but his worry only deepened as he surveyed the extent of your injuries. Gently cradling your limp form in his arms, he felt a surge of protectiveness wash over him.

With determination in his eyes, Soldier Boy rose to his feet, your unconscious body held securely against his chest. Ignoring the chaos around him, he set off towards the nearest exit, his mind focused on your health.

As you began to stir in Ben's arms, your eyelids fluttered open, , just a bit, revealing pale, exhausted features and a faint heartbeat. Feeling his comforting embrace, you managed a weak smile, your voice barely a whisper as you teased him.

"You always have to play the hero, don't you?", you murmured, your words laced with affection despite the pain coursing through your body. Even in your weakened state, you couldn't resist poking fun at his penchant for rushing into danger to save the day.

As the team scoured the chaotic scene in search of any sign of Homelander, Ben and you found yourselves alone amidst the rubble and destruction.

Gently, he adjusted his hold on you, ensuring you were as comfortable as possible despite the dire circumstances.

Despite the gravity of the situation, Ben couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle at your teasing, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Always the joker, huh?", he murmured, his voice laced with affection and a hint of nervousness.

But beneath the light banter, there was a palpable sense of fear and concern in Ben's eyes. He held you close, his grip tightening ever so slightly.

As Ben felt your heartbeat grow weaker in his arms, a wave of concern washed over him, his expression turning somber as he realized the severity of your condition. Gently, he pressed his hand against your chest, feeling the faint rhythm beneath his fingertips.

“Hey, hang in there”, he whispered, his voice tinged with urgency.

As Ben finally reached the Team´s Van, he carefully laid you down on the backseat, his hands trembling slightly as he fumbled for the first aid kit. With practiced efficiency, he began to rummage through its contents, his mind racing as he searched for anything that could help stabilize your rapidly deteriorating condition.

“Alright, sweetheart”, he murmured, as he gently adjusted your position. “This might sting a bit”.

You groaned softly in response, the pain evident in the lines of your face as you struggled to remain conscious. Your pulse grew fainter with each passing moment, sending a shiver of fear down Ben’s spine as he fought to keep his composure.

Ben rolled up his sleeves and reached for a blade, his movements precise as he prepared to make a small incision on his wrist. “Alright, time for a little blood transfusion”, he quipped, a nervous edge creeping into his voice as he attempted to lighten the mood.

As he began to cut, a bead of sweat formed on his brow, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched the crimson liquid well up from the wound.

As Ben infused his blood into your system, he couldn't help but feel a surge of desperation wash over him. With each drop that mingled with your own, he prayed silently that it would be enough to save you from the brink of death.

As he worked, his gaze wandered over your battered and bruised body, taking in the extent of the injuries you had sustained. Broken bones, deep lacerations, and bruises marred your skin, evidence of the brutal ordeal you had endured. Yet, despite the pain you were in, you had still managed to find the strength to tease him about his penchant for playing the hero.

A bitter smile tugged at the corners of Ben's lips as he reflected on your words. In that moment, he realized just how much he relied on that role to give him purpose, to drive him forward even in the face of insurmountable odds. But now, as he fought to save your life, he couldn't help but wonder if he was truly capable of being the hero you needed him to be.

With a heavy heart, Ben continued to administer the blood transfusion, his movements steady and sure despite the turmoil raging within him.

As Ben carefully pulled your unconscious body into his lap, he cradled you against his chest, feeling the weight of your limp form against his own. His blood steadily dripping into your veins as he held you tight, unwilling to let go.

Ben leaned his head back against the seat, his fingers gently tracing the contours of your face as he whispered words of encouragement, desperate to reach you even in your unconscious state.

"Come on, (Y/N), you've got this", he murmured, his voice soft and soothing despite the fear that gnawed at his insides. "You're tougher than anyone I know. You'll pull through this".

Despite his attempts to remain composed, Ben couldn't help but feel the weight of the situation pressing down on him, the fear of losing you threatening to overwhelm him.

As Ben held you close, his heart skipped a beat as he felt a faint stir beneath his fingertips. With bated breath, he pressed his ear against your chest, listening intently as your heartbeat began to grow stronger, albeit still faint.

A surge of relief washed over him, mingled with a glimmer of hope as he realized that you were fighting to cling to life.

"You're doing great, (Y/N)", he whispered. "Just hang in there a little longer".

As he spoke, Ben gently adjusted the IV line, ensuring that the blood transfusion continued uninterrupted.

As footsteps drew nearer, Ben's muscles tensed, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive as he prepared for a potential threat. With practiced efficiency, he tucked the first aid kit away, his gaze locked on the approaching figures.

His heart skipped a beat as Annie emerged from the shadows, followed closely by the rest of the team. Relief flooded through him at the sight of familiar faces, but it was quickly overshadowed by a surge of anger and frustration.

"What the fuck took you so long?", Ben snapped, his voice sharp with accusation as he glared at the approaching group. "You're supposed to be the fucking heroes, aren't you?".

Annie's brow furrowed with concern as she approached, her eyes flickering with worry as she took in the sight of you cradled in Ben's arms. "We came as fast as we could", she insisted, her voice tinged with frustration. "We had to make sure the area was secure".

Ben's lip curled into a sneer as he shot back, his tone biting with sarcasm. "And how's that fucking working out for you?", he retorted, his gaze icy as he tightened his grip on you, as if daring anyone to challenge him.

As the team gathered around, Ben's anger simmered just beneath the surface, his protective instincts flaring up as he shielded you from view, unwilling to let anyone else get too close. Despite his gruff exterior, there was a fierce determination in his eyes, a silent promise to do whatever it took to keep you safe.

Annie's voice was laced with genuine remorse as she stepped forward, her expression contrite. "I'm sorry", she began, "We should have been here sooner, for saving her. We should have…"

But Ben cut her off as he refused to accept her apology. "Sorry isn't fucking good enough", he spat, his voice sharp with frustration. "You were supposed to save her. You were supposed to fucking protect her".

His accusatory gaze swept over the rest of the team, his eyes landing on Frenchie with a searing intensity. "And you", he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You were supposed to be looking out for her. Where the fuck were you when she needed you?".

Frenchie's expression fell, guilt washing over him as he struggled to find the words to defend himself. "I… I'm sorry, Soldier Boy", he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I should have been there. I should have…"

But Ben wasn't interested in excuses. His anger burned hot and fierce, fueled by the fear and frustration of nearly losing you.

Ben's voice was seething with fury as he glared at the rest of the team, his words cutting through the tense silence like a knife. "If it wasn't for me, she'd be fucking dead right now", he spat, his tone laced with anger and frustration. "I'm the one who saved her. I'm the one who kept her alive".

As he spoke, his hands trembled with barely contained rage, the pressure of the situation weighing heavily on him. In his fury, he didn't realize the force with which he gripped your unconscious body, his fingers digging into your skin as he fought to maintain his composure.

Suddenly, his rage boiled over, his grip crushing one of your ribs with a sickening crack. The sound echoed through the quiet space.

As Ben's fury continued to boil over, the rest of the team exchanged uneasy glances, unsure of how to proceed. Annie took a hesitant step forward, her expression filled with concern, but Ben's glare stopped her in her tracks.

"Leave us the fuck alone!", he roared. "All of you!".

His words were like a slap in the face. They remained rooted to the spot, paralyzed by uncertainty.

Ben's rage only seemed to grow in intensity, his accusations becoming more and more cutting with each passing moment. "You're fucking useless", he spat, his voice dripping with contempt. "You couldn't protect her. You couldn't save her. You're all just a bunch of fucking cowards!".

In order not to escalate the situation further, Butcher indicated to the others to leave the two of you alone.

Alone with you in the quiet car, Ben’s senses were hyper-focused on the sound of your heartbeat. With each passing moment, it grew stronger, more steady.

As he listened to the rhythmic thump of your heart, a sense of relief washed over Ben, dispelling some of the fear and uncertainty that had gripped him since he first found you unconscious.

With your heartbeat growing stronger and more stable, he waited until he was certain you were in a relatively stable condition before bringing you back into the apartment.

The rest of the team remained silent as Ben passed by them, their eyes following him with a mix of concern and respect. They knew better than to interfere or approach him as he made his way towards the bathroom with you cradled in his arms.

If you weren't dependent on him and his help, his anger would certainly have led him to slaughter Butcher and the rest of the useless monkeys

In the bathroom, Ben worked with careful precision, his hands moving deftly as he cleaned the wounds that marred your battered body. Each touch was gentle, yet purposeful, as he navigated the delicate task of tending to your injuries without causing further harm.

He worked methodically, his brow furrowed in concentration as he cleaned away the blood and dirt that stained your skin. With each swipe, he revealed the extent of the damage you had endured, his heart clenching with each new bruise and laceration he uncovered.

As he finished cleaning your body, Ben moved on to bandaging your rips to steady them.

With a weary sigh, Ben leaned back against the bathroom wall, his muscles aching with exhaustion. He ran a hand through his hair, the weight of fatigue settling heavily upon him, but his eyes remained fixed on your unconscious form, his concern unwavering.

Despite the overwhelming exhaustion that threatened to engulf him, Ben knew that his priority was ensuring your comfort and safety. Careful, he draped a towel around you, shielding your modesty before gently scooping you up in his arms once more.

As he carried you into his room, Ben’s steps were slow and deliberate, his movements careful to avoid jostling you unnecessarily. He laid you down on the bed with the utmost care, tucking the blankets around you with gentle hands.

With a final glance, Ben brushed a strand of hair away from your face and sank down on the chair next to you.

As Ben settled into the chair beside your bed, he reached into his bedside table and pulled out a joint, his fingers trembling slightly as he lit it. The familiar scent of smoke filled the room, mingling with the heavy silence that hung in the air.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, the rest of the team sat in somber silence, the weight of the recent events pressing down upon them. Annie’s expression was one of profound regret as she spoke up, her voice heavy with guilt.

“I can’t believe I wasn’t able to help her”, she murmured, her eyes clouded with sadness. “I should have been there for her”.

Butcher, ever the pragmatist, furrowed his brow in thought, his mind working to make sense of Ben’s intense reaction to your plight.

“Why the bloody hell is he so bent out of shape over her?”, he mused aloud. And just like that, the topic of how no one but Ben was capable of saving you slipped into the background.

Annie cast a knowing glance at Butcher as she spoke. "Ben has always had a soft spot for her, even if he'd never admit it".

Butcher let out a grunt, his expression skeptical as he mulled over Annie's words. Despite his doubts, he couldn't deny the possibility that there was more to Ben's reaction than met the eye.

Frenchie remained quiet, his thoughts hidden.

“Butcher, you think Soldier Boy’s got a thing for her?”, Hughie asked, his voice tinged with surprise.

Butcher nodded, his expression grim. “Aye, he’s always had a thing for her”, he confirmed. “But fucking her and being this intense about it is something else”.

"It just seems like there's more to the story", Annie mumbled.

Butcher grunted in acknowledgment, his gaze drifting to the door of Ben's room. "Could be", he conceded, his voice low and thoughtful. "Either way, we've got bigger bloody problems to deal with now."

Annie sighed heavily, her frustration evident in the furrow of her brow. "I can't believe he got away again", she muttered, shaking her head in disbelief.

"We need to figure out a way to track him down", Frenchie insisted, his tone determined despite the odds stacked against them.

Butcher's gaze hardened, his jaw clenching with resolve. "We'll find him", he vowed, his voice carrying a steely edge as he reaffirmed their commitment to bringing Homelander to justice.

24 hours later, Ben still remained by your side, his vigil unyielding despite the passing of time. He hadn't eaten or drunk anything, his sole focus centered on you and the faint rhythm of your heartbeat that served as a lifeline in the darkness.

With each breath, Ben's resolve only strengthened. The rest of the team had ventured out in search of Homelander, but Ben refused to abandon his post, knowing that you needed him now more than ever.

As the hours passed by in tense silence, a subtle change began to stir in the air. Ben's gaze remained fixed on you, his senses heightened as he watched for any sign of movement or change.

Then, almost imperceptibly at first, your hand began to twitch, a faint flutter of movement that caught Ben's attention.

With bated breath, Ben reached out, his fingers hovering just above yours as he waited. Time seemed to stand still as he watched, his heart pounding in his ears.

And then, ever so slowly, your fingers curled slightly, a faint movement that sent a surge of relief coursing through Ben's veins.

"(Y/N)… can you hear me?", he murmured, his words hanging in the air as he waited for a response.

As consciousness began to return to you, your senses slowly coming back into focus, you found yourself greeted by the sound of Ben's voice, his words laced with a familiar blend of humor and affection.

"Hey there, Sleeping Beauty", he quipped, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he attempted to lighten the mood. "You sure know how to make a grand entrance".

Deep down, Ben was relieved beyond words to see you awake and aware, but he wasn't about to let his guard down just yet.

As Ben helped you sit up, he made sure to arrange the pillows behind you for added support, his movements careful and gentle. "There you go, easy does it", he murmured, his tone soft and reassuring as he ensured your comfort.

Once you were settled, he turned his attention to you, his gaze searching your face for any signs of discomfort. "How are you feeling?", he asked.

You let out a weary sigh, your energy depleted from the ordeal you had endured. "Exhausted", you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper as you leaned back against the pillows. "Feel like I've been through the wringer".

Despite your fatigue, a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you glanced at Ben. "But I'm alive, thanks to you", you added, your gratitude evident in your tone.

Ben flashed a lopsided grin as he leaned in closer. "Well, I'm glad I could save your sorry ass", he quipped, his tone lightening the mood despite the seriousness of the situation. "And hey, most of your wounds are healed up nicely. Except for that cracked rib".

"Accidents happen, right?", he added with a chuckle, attempting to downplay his guilt.

As Ben carefully pulled down the blanket and towel, revealing the bandage wrapped around your torso, you couldn't help but let out a raspy chuckle. "How the hell did you manage this?", you asked, your voice weak but tinged with humor.

Ben scratching the back of his neck. "I got a bit carried away", he mumbled.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you glanced down at your naked body, the realization sinking in that you were completely exposed before Ben. Despite your weakened state, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of self-consciousness at being so vulnerable in front of him.

Clearing your throat awkwardly, you shifted slightly, attempting to cover yourself with the blanket as best you could. “Sorry about that”, you mumbled, your cheeks still tinged with color. “Guess I’m not exactly in top form at the moment”.

Ben’s expression softened as he reached out to gently tuck the blanket around you.

"Shut up", he said softly, a hint of warmth in his voice as he brushed a strand of hair away from your face. Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before he pulled away.

"I'll get you something to eat", he said, his tone firm yet caring. "You need to regain your strength".

Ben rose from the chair and made his way to the kitchen, leaving you in his room.

As Ben entered the kitchen, he spotted Annie in the midst of making herself a sandwich. Without a word, he strode over and grabbed her plate, much to her surprise.

"Hey, what the hell?", Annie protested, her brows furrowing in confusion.

Ignoring her complaints, Ben added some chocolate bars. "She needs it more than you do", he replied bluntly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Annie opened her mouth to retort, but the look in Ben's eyes stopped her in her tracks.

After Ben gathered the food, he headed back to his room. Annie watched him go with a mix of curiosity and concern. She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt at being unable to help you when you needed it most.

Sitting down at the table, Annie sighed heavily, her thoughts swirling with worry and uncertainty. She knew that finding Homelander was their top priority, but she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that they were leaving you in capable hands.

As Ben returned to the room, you rubbed your eyes tiredly, watching him with a mixture of gratitude and exhaustion. "I'm not really that hungry", you admitted, your voice soft and weary.

But Ben wasn't having it. With a firm resolve, he set the plate down on the bedside table. "You need to eat", he insisted, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Sighing, you nodded reluctantly, realizing that arguing with Ben would be futile. As he settled into the chair beside the bed, you reluctantly reached for a chocolate bar, taking a small bite as you tried to muster up the energy to eat.

"Thanks for bringing this though", you said, genuinely appreciative of Ben's thoughtfulness.

As you finished the small snack, Ben turned his attention back to you. "So, how are you feeling now?", he asked, his tone light but attentive.

You couldn't help but chuckle at his teasing tone, even though you knew he was genuinely concerned for your well-being. "Well, I'm still alive, so that's a good start", you quipped, a faint smile playing at the corners of your lips. "But seriously, I'm okay. Just a bit sore and tired".

Ben nodded, a hint of relief evident in his expression. "Good to hear", he replied. "Just take it easy for now. We'll figure out what to do next once you're feeling better".

You furrowed your brow in confusion as you struggled to piece together the events leading up to your unconsciousness. "I don't remember anything after the explosion", you admitted, your voice tinged with concern. "What happened?".

Soldier Boy took a deep breath. "I managed to take down that fucking pussy", he explained. "But he managed to get away again. The team's been out, searching for him ever since. Coming and going".

You nodded, absorbing the information with a sense of resignation. "Damn", you muttered, frustration simmering beneath the surface. "I can't believe he got away again".

"We'll find him", he said firmly, his tone unwavering. "But for now, let's focus on getting you back on your feet".

You offered Ben a grateful smile, your eyes reflecting genuine appreciation. "Thank you for taking care of me", you said softly. "I don't think I would've made it without you".

He waved off your gratitude. "Ah, it was nothing".

Despite his attempts to downplay his role, you could see the sincerity in his eyes, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude towards him for being there when you needed him most.

Ben watched you nibble on your sandwich, his expression softening as he took in your tired but slightly improved state. He cleared his throat before speaking, his tone careful yet filled with underlying concern.

"What did they do to you in that lab?", he asked.

You paused, setting down the half-eaten sandwich, the memories of the harrowing experience flooding back. With a heavy sigh, you began to recount the torturous tests and experiments you endured at the hands of Vought’s doctors.

“They… they ran all sorts of tests”, you started, your voice trembling slightly as you recalled the ordeal. “Extracting fluids, cutting into me for tissue samples… It was relentless”.

Ben’s jaw clenched as he listened, his expression darkening with anger at the thought of what you had endured.

As you recounted the horrors you endured, Ben felt a surge of protectiveness well up within him. Without hesitation, he shifted beside you, his back against the headboard, and carefully pulled you into his arms, your head resting gently on his lap.

“I fucking swear to you”, he murmured, his voice low and determined, “I’m gonna kill that fucking cocksucker for what he did to you”.

You looked up at him, gratitude shining in your eyes despite the pain and exhaustion. “Ben, you don’t have to do that”, you protested weakly.

But Ben shook his head, his grip tightening around you. “No, (Y/N)”, he insisted firmly. “He needs to fucking pay for what he’s done”.

You looked up at Ben, a mixture of admiration and concern in your eyes. “Ben…".

Ben’s voice was firm as he interrupted you. “Cut it out, (Y/N)”, he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m gonna kill that bastard”.

You sighed, knowing there was no changing his mind once he was set on something. “Just promise me you’ll be careful”, you pleaded, your voice tinged with worry.

Ben's gaze softened as he met your eyes. "You should be the one who needs to be careful", he replied. "Your little human body might not be able to handle another round with Homelander".

You chuckled weakly, the corners of your lips turning up in a tired smile. "I'll try my best", you promised, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ben's expression softened as he brushed a strand of hair away from your face. "That's all I fucking ask", he murmured.

You couldn't help but giggle at the sensation of Ben's soft touch on your face, a warmth spreading through you at the gentle caress. "I like this side of you", you admitted with a playful grin, your eyes meeting his.

Ben's expression softened, a rare hint of vulnerability shining in his eyes as he chuckled gruffly. "Don't get used to it", he retorted, his tone teasing but genuine.

You grinned mischievously, letting out a playful laugh. "Too late", you quipped.

Ben rolled his eyes, but a faint smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, well, don't get too comfortable", he replied. "I'm only being nice because I kinda feel bad about breaking your rib".

As Ben leaned down, he carefully scooped your weak and naked body into his strong arms, his touch gentle yet firm. With tender affection, he pressed his lips to yours.

As he pulled back slightly, his gaze meeting yours. "I won't tell anybody about your soft side", you whispered with a playful grin, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ben chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he leaned in to whisper back, "Good. Because then I'd have to deny it and break another rib".

Feeling Ben start to pull away, you weakly cupped his face in your hands, a silent plea in your eyes as you tugged him down to you once more, craving the comfort and connection of his kiss.

Ben hesitated for a moment, his gaze searching yours for any sign of hesitation or discomfort. Seeing only warmth and affection reflected back at him, he gave in to the pull of your touch, lowering his lips to meet yours in a tender embrace.

As your lips met once more, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you in a moment of quiet intimacy amidst the chaos and uncertainty that surrounded you.

As the kiss deepened, Ben grinned against your lips. "Guess I'll have to show you more of that 'soft side' sometime, sweetheart".

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Oh, so now you're admitting you have one?".

Ben´s hands trailing lightly along your sides. "I've still got a reputation to uphold".

As the tender moment lingered between you, a sudden rumble echoed through the room, emanating from Ben's stomach. He paused mid-kiss, a sheepish expression crossing his face as he chuckled softly.

"Guess I should've eaten something earlier", he mumbled.

You couldn't help but giggle at the unexpected interruption, the sound light and carefree despite the gravity of the situation. "Looks like someone's hungry".

Ben grinned, leaning back slightly to meet your gaze. "Yeah, well, I've got a growing appetite", he replied with a wink, his tone playful as he shifted to get up from the bed.

"Well, Maybe you should get something to eat. After all, you can't take care of me if you're starving".

"Alright, alright", he relented. "But don't go anywhere while I'm gone, alright? I don't want you causing any more fucking trouble".

You grinned up at him, nodding in agreement. "Wouldn't dream of it", you replied cheekily.

———————————

A/N: SURPRISEEEEEE :P

Please let me know what you think.🥰

-

Part 17

-

Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch@mimaria420@kaz11283@uncle-eggy @jackles010378 @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @meowmeowyoongles @sarahgracej @zemosdarling228 @leila22rogers @mostlymarvelgirl @emily-winchester @blacknoirr @onlyangel-444 @seasonofthenerd @staple-your-mouth @artemys-ackles @selfdestructionandrhum

[loomontoia]

messy boys

[theangelssing]

Good Morning

Ben being Ben, neutral!reader, Ben and Reader are engaged, third pov, spoiler free (only mention is soldier boy’s story)

warnings: physical touch (romantic way), fluff & soft mostly, domestic fluff

a/n: this imagine doesn’t take place during The Boys’ events, I just took Soldier Boy’s story and did the imagine, only based on the tv show! I wrote that one at midnight, sorry if there’s any error, please do tell me. as always, if you want more, feel free to ask!

prompt: what if Soldier Boy was free from the Russian by you a long time ago? You and Ben living an happy romantic life.

The sun was hitting through the open windows while the curtains were moving slowly because of the wind. It was a peaceful summer morning. The light woke you up. It was still early and you were still sleepy. The body against yours didn’t move when you tried to come closer, you just heard a grunt. You kissed one of your boyfriend’s cheek. Only after that you finally felt an arm around your own body, making you giggle.

Ben and you bought a cosy house far away from the city. You always wanted to live in a cottage and he made sure your dream comes true. You spent many months working together so the house could become your little nest. You were proud of you, and at the end of the renovations Ben asked you to be his spouse and you said yes without any doubts.

As a young engaged couple, you were always watching your ring a lot. Ben chose the perfect one. This morning didn’t escape your routine. You tried to remove your arm from Ben’s and you watched the little ring shining on your finger. It made you smile. You felt and saw Ben’s hand on yours, intertwining your fingers.

“Already awake sweetheart?” he asked while kissing your forehead.

“Mmhmmh,” you muttered.

A small smile appeared on his lips and he started to slowly stroke your hand with his. You really liked the cute Ben, you always liked everything about him, except his misogyny – even though he was doing his best to actually change the way he’s acting as he doesn’t live in 1940 anymore.

“What are you thinking about?” he wondered, as you were staring at your intertwined fingers without moving.

“I wish we could make breakfast together, today,” you replied while moving your head to meet his eyes. He was looking right at you, with his usual lovely morning expression.

“Right, what d’you wanna eat?”

You were kinda surprised he accepted that fast so you didn’t answered right away. You were too lost in his glance anyway.

“Baby? What do you want for breakfast?”

“I want some pancakes! Oh and can we make some cookies too?! Not for breakfast but i really want cookies. With orange juice. Or apple juice! Wait wait, with milk, it’s better with milk.”

You heard him laughing before kissing you.

“Sweetheart, you can eat whatever you want y’know,” he said then kissed your forehead for the second time this morning.

“I know but.. It’s breakfast..”

“Well, let’s have some pancakes with milk for breakfast then we do your cookies while drinking apple and orange juices.”

Oh how you loved this man. He was always there for you whatever you needed or wanted.

“Are you sure you want to make pancakes and cookies with me?” you asked, not so sure of you though.

“Of course, as long as it makes you happy,” he replied with his eyes in yours, the green meeting something deep in your soul, you could feel it.

You muttered a thank you and before being able to understand what was going on, you were in his arms and out of bed.

“Ben!” you yelled as he was holding you on his shoulder. He sure was laughing, proud of him, and you couldn’t help but laugh with him as he was heading to the kitchen.

“I’ll land your majesty on the counter, if that’s good for your majesty.” You just nodded as an answer.

He gave you a little squeeze on your thigh before you felt the wood under you.

“What do we do first?” he asked you.

“We find the ingredients, a bowl and a frypan.”

“Don’t move, I do it.”

You contained your laugh while watching him struggling to find everything. This poor man didn’t know his own kitchen that well.

“Want some help?”

“Uh.. No. You stay on the counter,” he replied, not so sure of himself.

After some minutes Ben finally found a bowl and a frypan. But he was clueless looking in the fridge.

“Do you even know what are the ingredients?” you finally asked him as he was closing the fridge’s door.

“Well.. I never made pancakes y’know..”

“That’s what I thought,” you laughed and get down off the counter. “Let me explain.”

Ben wasn’t the best, you knew about his past, but you were both in love with each other and nothing else mattered during those soft moments. You knew he still had a lot to learn if he wanted to fit in today’s society but you always promised to be there for him. Of course you also knew Soldier Boy would always be Soldier Boy, but for you he was Ben, the man who asked you to become his only spouse. He still was making mistakes but he was so careful with you.

[hainethehero]

This is your daily reminder that Steve Rogers is a needy, whiny bottom who likes d!ck, ice cream & cuddles.

[julesthequirky]

Jensen and Characters

Theirs: Series: Back in Helena, the reader captures the attention of two Alphas, Beau and Dean (not Winchester).

The Choice: Series: Three of your favourite characters turn up in your home, and as you get close, you have a decision to make. Who are you sending?

Healing Her: Series: DV survivor moves to Montana to make a fresh start and gains attraction from the Sheriff, Beau Arlen.

Chapter One

Beautiful Trauma: Mini-Series; The reader finds out that after nearly forty years, Ben is alive. (Ben x Reader)

Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four

Brat: Series: In order to adjust her behaviour and attitude, Y/N is sent to John’s and whilst she’s there, John’s sons, Sam and Dean take a liking to her.

Falling For The Sheriff: Part of the Creedence Creek Cowboys Trilogy Series; Reader's car breaks down outside of a small southern town and who else comes to her rescue? None other than Sheriff Dean Winchester.

Broken and Unfixable: Drabble; Dean hits the reader with some hard “truths”.

All Out of Options: Drabble; Reader resorts to a last option. (Dean x Reader)

Under The Mistletoe: Drabble; There’s mistletoe. And Dean (Dean x Reader)

Toy Soldier: Ficlet; The reader finds Michael in her apartment.

Classroom Humiliation: Oneshot; Reader gets humiliated in class. (Jensen x Reader)

[xblood-sugarx]

you get so nervous so easily. I promise I'll never get tired of reminding you that everything is okay

[globetrotter28]

Another Cover Up

Fandom: The Boys

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Fem!Reader

Warnings: blood, language, mentions of nudity, implied sexual assault, trauma from referenced torture (no detail), perceived unrequited love

Summary: After Herogasm, Butcher, Hughie and Soldier Boy realise they might need more reinforcements. After doing more research, they discover the woman who was also injected with Compound V alongside Soldier Boy back in the 40’s. Everyone also thought she was KIA that day at Nicaragua. But if Soldier Boy was still alive… maybe she was too?

Series Masterlist

~

You felt your lungs expand with air. It felt like the first breath you've had in years... maybe it was... you don't know, you lost track of the years, years ago. What felt like a million experiments ago....

The air was cool, freezing even. But your supe powers and metabolism were keeping you warm enough. You felt like you couldn't see but you quickly realised it was the cold air around you. It was quickly dissipating and you saw what looked like a doorway. You felt constraints over your naked body, and you soon flexed your body enough for them to snap open. You quickly reached to the mask on your face, pulling it off before finding the wires connected to your body and ripping yourself free from them.

You stepped forward, your arms quickly bracing you on the doorway when your legs nearly gave out from god only knows how many years of misuse. You continued to breath deeply, feeling the stretch of your lungs before taking another step to exit your confined space.

When your feet hit the cool concrete, you slowly lifted your heavy head to see a tall man with dark hair and a fully established dark beard. His eyes a mixture of both fear and awe. Movement to his left caught your attention, where you found a thin somewhat scrawny man.

His eyes only showed fear.

"Y/N." A deep gravelly voice called from your left. Your eyes snapped in that direction. You saw a tall, well built figure. Deep green eyes staring at you, a small smirk recognisable on his face under a well trimmed beard. "It's been a long time."

"Not long enough...," you gritted out, voice tight from misuse, "Ben." You could feel the sneer colouring your features as you stared into the eyes of the man you grew to hate from his betrayal.

"Before you start, love...," a deep Cockney accent speaks up, tearing your attention away from your old 'leader', Soldier Boy. You see the Cockney man with the dark eyes flicking from your face down to your side and back up again. You look down, seeing small violet sparks coming from your fingertips. Your powers were coming back. You look back up at him with your eyes, waiting for him to continue. "We're hear to your break you out." The man states.

"Y-yeah, that's right." The scrawny man stuttered out.

"It's true, Y/N." Soldier Boy states walking closer to you. You see him taking those calculated steps he always takes, on the verge of a strut and mixed with some swagger. You turn your body towards him, hands still sparking with violet ready to throw him away from you if you needed. He closes in, only a foot away from you, looking down his stupidly perfect nose at you, a small smirk on his face as he eyes your bare flesh. You glare up at him, focusing on your powers. He hadn't changed his perverted ways much.

"You left me". You growled at him telepathically.

"No. I never left you, Y/N." His voice held sincerity, his eyes reflecting the emotion, narrowing slightly. I felt the hurt radiating from his memory, a flash of an older Crimson Countess coming into my vision. "I know you think I'm an asshole...," I scoff at this, "but I never betrayed my team. I never betrayed you." He said, sincerity flooding his pained voice.

"You are an Asshole." You ground out. But you felt something in your chest burst. "But you were always my Asshole." You felt the side of your face twitch into a smirk.

"And you were always a Bitch." He grinned. We moved closer to one another, his big arms enveloping me into his chest. I couldn't help the tears from flowing, a sob breaking free. "But you were my Bitch. My best friend, Y/N." He broke out, his voice breaking slightly. We held each other for a moment before Ben snarled out,"You want to give her that fucking coat...!"

"Yes, yes of course!" You heard the scuffle of feet. "Uh, Y/N... please..." you pulled away from Ben just enough to turn your head to see the scrawny man, holding a dark coat out to you. You pulled back more, putting your arms into the sleeve, the man helping you put it on.

Ben pulled it tight around your front, buttoning it up to cover your naked body. Your hand came up to press softly against his bearded cheek. His eyes closed softly, leaning into your touch.

"Sorry to break up the sweet reunion...," the Cockney man interrupted, sarcasm heavily colouring his tone, "but best get the fuck outta here before more of those Russian cunts turn up."

"Come on." Ben grabs your hand in his, pulling you behind him.

Your group makes their way through the facility, luckily not running into anyone. You didn't know how you would react, given the years of torture you endured at their hands. Once you exited, you followed Ben to a van that was waiting for you all. You got into the back, Ben ensuring you were safe before he moved to sit himself down. You turned and saw the Cockney man taking his seat behind the wheel, the scrawny one getting into the passenger seat.

You heard a gunshot go off a millisecond before a ping  sound as the bullet hit the metal of the van. You all turned to see a group of Russian soldiers running from one of the buildings, their rifles all starting to fire at us.

"Oh fuck!" The scrawny man yelled out. You turned to help but wondered why such a frightened man would be in this situation.

"Time to blow this popsicle stand." The Cockney stated, attempting to start the engine. But he was having trouble turning it over. "Come on you Cunt of a thing!" He growled out, turning the key once again, only to have the whine of the engine sounding.

You look back out the window, seeing the soldiers getting closer, the sound of bullets hitting the van, the force rocking the vehicle.

"For fuck sake..." Ben growls, moving to get up.

But before he does, you had already moved to open the sliding door, moving to step out of the van.

"Y/N!" You heard Ben yelling after you, but didn't turn, you were focused.

The Russian's yelling was fuelling the fire within you, a sharp pain radiating through your head. You briefly paused your movements, a hand coming to your head before you felt the tapping of bullets hitting your skin. Even though they couldn't hurt you, it pushed your tired body back enough to get really pissed off. The bullets kept coming, only fuelling your rage. You marched forward, a scream building in your chest as you felt your powers scorching through your veins like acid, shooting a force towards the soldiers, making them all fly backwards.

You shot a power surge to the vehicle, blowing them sky high before forcing two of the vehicles to fly into the control tower who had men shooting at you. The control tower was consumed in flames from the impact. You found more men coming from another building before you found an oil truck and flinging it to the building. It quickly destroyed half the building, and you could hear the pained screams coming from the wounded.

You continued to walk forward, past bodies of the Russian soldiers, who knowingly or unknowingly knew or took part in your torture. You just didn't seem to care at this point if any of them were innocent... they were all the same in your eyes in this moment. The burning flesh of the soldiers made you want to vomit, but you kept moving forward, finishing off anyone who was still alive.

You felt a presence behind you, knowing it was Ben, you didn't respond when he placed a hand on your shoulder.

"Y/N-" he was interrupted by more yelling in Russian, making you both turn to the direction it was coming from. You saw a General step out of his vehicle, face in shock from the destruction you had caused. You recognised him. He was the one who had ordered the torture, coming in to observe, even being the one to violate you countless times... to 'see what you could handle.' You couldn't help the shudder through your body as you remembered this. Soldier Boy felt the shudder, looking down to you, seeing your eyes trained on the General. He could only assume what was going through your mind from the look on your face.

You soon moved, marching towards the General, Ben only a few steps behind you. You soon picked up into a jog, then a full sprint as you charged towards the General, the scream breaking out of your chest once again. You didn't want to use your powers on him. You wanted to feel his flesh, his blood on your hands. You saw the terror in the General's face as you charged at him, your knee making contact with his chest, forcing his body to fly backwards. His driver reached for his weapon, but you crushed his windpipe with your powers. You moved to stand over the General, seeing his pained expression from his body making contact with the hard bitumen.

He looked up at you as you stood over him, the fear coming back into his eyes. He began yelling at you in Russian, not that you ever knew the language. But one word kept coming up over the years which you quickly learnt meant 'whore'. You knew from his tone and his mind that what he was screaming at you was that. You felt your hands curl into fists and you began to punch him. You didn't know how long or if he was even still alive but you know you took pleasure in feeling the fight leave his body and his blood on your hands. You soon felt a force take you into their arms.

"Y/N, Y/N stop!"  You struggled against the force. "Shhhshh, Y/N c'mon, he's dead now." Ben's smokey voice soothes you softly in your ear. Feeling the vibration from his chest against your back seemed to ground you enough to settle down. You quickly felt the sobs once again wracking your body and you fell forward, tears falling to the ground beneath you.

Ben's arms tightened to comfort you, as he began to turn you into is broad chest, resting his head on top of yours, soothing words coming from his lips to calm you. As you began to calm once again, the sound of tires on the bitumen got closer and Ben helped you up, lifting you into his arms and making his way to the van. He settled himself onto one of the seats, you in his lap.

You heard a crinkling noise, before the voice of the scrawny man saying "Here."

"What the fuck is that?" Ben's deep voice vibrating through your body.

"They're um... wet wipes... to wipe the blood..."

You pulled your head back to look at him, knowing your face looked like shit from the blood and the tears. "Thank you..." you said, your voice trailing off realising you hadn't properly been introduced.

"Hughie." He smiles gently at you, his kindness shining through.

"Thank you, Hughie." You whispered out, hoping your appreciation showed as you took the plastic packet from him.

"You're welcome, Y/N." He grinned at you knowing you meant for more than the wet wipes. "This is Butcher, by the way." He said, pointing to the Cockney man.

"I know this rescue was mostly for selfish reasons... but thank you..." You said to Butcher. You saw his dark eyes look back at you through the review mirror, a look of uncertainty.

"That's bloody bonkers..." he said to himself, looking back at the road.

"Imagine being the one to hear your thoughts, Butcher."

His eyes shot back to yours in the review mirror. You winked at him, earning a small smile in return, his eyes crinkling at the edges before he composed himself. He'd be a tough nut to crack.

You didn't realise that Ben had taken the wipes from your hand and began to clean the blood from your hands and face. You turned back to him, seeing his brows furrowed in concentration. You took the opportunity to see how little he had changed over the years. A few more wrinkles here and there, but... otherwise he still looked so young. As he was cleaning your face his eyes made contact with yours and he paused his ministrations. You looked at each other, both wondering what the other had been through all these years. "We'll get to that later." You thought so Ben could hear it too. He nodded gently.

"We'll get you cleaned up properly once we're home." He said, resuming his actions.

"Where is home?" I ask.

He sighs before answering. "Not exactly sure anymore... but at least it's the States and not this shit hole."

You didn't really care where we were going because since even before the day you were injected with Compound V alongside Ben all those years ago, you knew he was your home. It was just a pity he never saw you the same way.

"Sounds good to me." You smiled up at him.

"C'mon. Get some rest." He said softly, placing a comforting peck on your now clean forehead.

You closed your eyes, feeling a sense of peace and safety for the first time in how many years since you'd been captured, in the arms of the man you fell in love with many years ago, but who never loved you like that in return.

Part 2

[zepskies]

Hello! I was wondering... kinda cringy but can I request comparing hand sizes with Soldier boy headcanons

Hey love!! ❤️

Aw, it's not cringey. That's actually really cute! Let me see what I can do for you...

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female Reader Word Count: 500 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only on this one, folks! For some smutty musings on those talented fingers.

Headcanon: The way you love Ben's hands.

You love playing with his hair, slipping your fingers through the soft strands.

But you also love his hands.

Despite the pampered lifestyle he led growing up, Ben is a very tactile person. He likes working with his hands.

You like to catch him when he's cleaning his weapons. He takes them apart and puts them back together expertly. His smooth hands and long fingers glide as they polish metal with a small rag.

You like to watch him try and fail to cook, ultimately burning the eggs. You like the way his hands move quick yet awkward with the wooden spoon scraping across the pan.

(He burns the bacon too. "It's better that way, extra fucking crispy," he grumbles, when you tease him.)

You like the strength in his hands, tempered just for you.

When his fingers brush across your cheek. When they graze your arm absently while something plays on TV. When he comes up behind you and rests a heavy hand at the small of your back. Or when they grip your hips and thighs and ass hard enough to bruise.

When those talented fingers tease you, slipping between your legs and finding the source of your pleasure with ease.

Long fingers slowly dipping inside your wet heat, exploring your inner walls with the practiced patience of a man fully familiar with every part of you.

They know where and how and when to twist and curl, making you utter broken gasps of his name and shudder from deep within.

And Ben gets something he loves: the sound of your voice as you come hard on his fingers, and make it known in his ear...

But sometimes, it's just as simple as laying with him in bed, afterwards, holding one of his hands in yours.

Your fingers trace over each and every one of his, noting the differences of his larger hand in your smaller one. You compare them in your mind: both different versions of smooth, his masculine to your slender. His blunt nails to your longer ones.

One night, you even line up your hand against his, like Tarzan and Jane.

His brows furrow. "The hell're you doing?"

A smile tugs at your lips. "Nothing. You've just got huge hands."

He snorts. "I have a man's hands."

You roll your eyes. Right. But your smile deepens when you bring the back of his hand to your lips. You turn it over and press a sweet kiss into his palm, closing your eyes.

Ben tolerates it.

Or so he'd have you believe.

Really, he just watches you as a tendril of warmth plumes in his chest. His lips hint at a smile.

There are wordless moments when he knows you love him.

He'll probably never tell you out right, but times like these are some of the ones he likes most with you.

They stay in his memory long afterwards. And when the darker ones threaten to cloud his day, he pulls these moments out like old photographs, imprinted on his mind.

AN: Hehe, hope you guys like this one! ❤️

Just so you know, there's a longer SB imagine coming soon (either this coming week or next), and it is ✨Angsty.✨ 😅

I'll probably release an interesting one next. Though the request was a bit niche, I really got into it! So I'm hoping you all will enjoy. It includes reactions from Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, and Soldier Boy (Ben)...

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

SB Tag List:

@melancholictearz @katherineann83 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman

@iprobablyshipit91 @agalliasi @venicesem @deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @mimaria420 @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @skyesthebomb @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore

@agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @emily-winchester @tearsfortheyouth @solo-pitstop-vibes @dope-trope-105 @liuope @beautyvaliant @xxlaynaxx @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @tmb510 @iamsapphine @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @lacilou

[sensitivehandsomeactionman]

🌞 Sunshine Ackles 🌞

[lila-lou]

✨ His only exception - Pt. 5/? ✨

Summary: 12 months ago, Butcher went above and beyond to have you join his team. You had a simple office job at Supe Affairs. The same thing every day, working from 9 to 5 and watching Butcher and his team defeat one renegade after another. One evening, however, something changed.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: Language, angst, soft Ben, injured Reader

Word Count: 3117

A/N: This is part 5 of “His only exeption”.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

After a few minutes, Ben finally had control of himself again. Looking around, he saw the chaos he had caused. "Fuck!", he cursed loudly before looking out for you. For a second the thought that he had killed you overwhelmed him. However, when he heard your weak heartbeat, he immediately ran towards you.

Ben was more than surprised that he had lost control. Of course he wasn't happy at all about what he had just saw. About the fact that you had made such a scene for him last night, but let yourself be touched by that fuckface. Still, he had absolutely not expected such a reaction from himself. What have you done to him?

It all started when he first saw you at Supe Affairs. He knew even then that he wanted you. He had to have you. You were the only reason he came back to Butcher's team, why he didn't blow up all the cocksuckers. When he finally got Butcher to let you join his team and you met him for the first time, his urge to make you his own only grew stronger. He would never forget how you stood in front of him back then. How you started to stutter as he walked up to you and held out his hand to introduce himself, something he didn't do with any of the others. How you bit your bottom lip as your sparkling eyes looked up at him. You barely reached his chest, you were so delicate that he was afraid of breaking you the first time a mission became dangerous and he had to push you out of the way to save you.

However, as you slowly got used to everyone, especially Ben himself, and started showing your true self, he couldn't cope anymore. You had way too big a mouth and absolutely no problem expressing and justifying your opinion until the other person gave up. You were damn smart, able to articulate yourself properly and had the ability to convince anyone without even trying. And fuck, you were cheeky. He liked that most. Your sassy retorts when Butcher approaches you and your snarky comments to Frenchie's nonsensical ideas. He just liked you. And more importantly, he respected you. And that meant more to Soldier Boy than anything else. Even if someone held a gun to your head, you stuck to your fucking attitude. Many might have described you as stubborn, but for Ben it meant being strong and staying true and loyal to the end. Even though you were human. Even though you were just a fucking woman. For him, the weakest creature in the world. He respected you.

From the first moment he had a connection with you that he couldn't explain to himself. And this connection grew stronger hour by hour, day by day. Until yesterday when he finally lost his self-control.

When Ben saw you in the rubble of the bar, he almost felt guilty. As carefully as he could, he picked you up from the ground and held you lightly to his chest. You were unconscious. Your legs and arms hung limply from your body as he carried you to the car.

“I got you”, he murmured.

At that moment he didn't care about anything. He didn't care that he screwed up the plan, he didn't care that the deep escaped, he just wanted you to be okay.

While he held you with one hand, he used the other to push the seat into a reclining position before placing you on it. For a moment he just looked at you. Your face and body were covered in dust and small scratches, your sprained wrist was definitely broken now, as were some of your ribs. He was sure that despite your injuries and pain, you would insult him, scream at him or even be mad at him. That was the last thing he wanted. Ben didn't want to hurt you in any way, and yet he did. It was unintentional, but unfortunately it didn't change the end result.

Ben got behind the wheel, started the car and drove to your apartment. He knew your life wasn't in danger because he heard that all of your organs were functioning normally. You had hardly lost any blood either.It seemed like the force of the explosion had thrown you too hard against a wall.

After a while you started to move. “Ben?”, your voice was weak and you were more than disoriented. “Yeah?". His large, heavy hand found its way to your thigh, where it lingered as his thumb repeatedly stroked up and down your soft skin. You blinked a few times before looking at Ben, who was watching you with a blank expression, even though he was still driving.

“Ugh…my head hurts”, you grumbled, narrowing your eyes. "What…what happened? Why did you blew up?".

Ben just took a deep breath and looked back at the road before removing his hand from your thigh. A familiar silence filled the car, broken only by your panting as you tried to sit up.

“Don´t fucking move. You probably broke a rib or two".

"Yeah, it feels like that".

You didn't exchange another word the entire drive home. Instead, you kept looking at each other, trying to read each other's minds, but even more wanting to make sure the other was okay. He wanted to make sure you didn't suffer any more serious injuries while you kept an eye on Ben for fear he might explode again.

After almost half an hour, Ben parked the car in front of the apartment. As Ben unbuckled himself, you spoke up. "I thought you had it under control?". No answer. Ben stood up, walked around the car and picked you up before you tried any longer to somehow get out of the car. As he carried you in like a bride, you looked at him from below.

"Don't look at me like that", he grumbled, his voice deeper and rougher than before.

Just as Ben was placing you down on the living room couch, Butcher stormed in with Hughie.

“I almost had him!”, Butcher shouted, ripping off his jacket and carelessly throwing it towards the armchair.

“Almost had it? Are you kidding me?! If I hadn't pushed you away, you would have been cut in half by now!", Hughie scolded back before spotting you and Ben.

"What happened?", he immediately asked in shock, walking towards you. "Fucking perfect! So, no Homelander and no fucking Fishcunt either", Butcher raised his hand, waved off and went into the kitchen to get a beer.

A soft, pained groan escaped you as you slowly sat up. While Hughie's worried gaze was on you, Butcher stared at Ben from the kitchen as he sipped his beer. “The plan didn’t quite work”, you mumbled, but as you answered, you continued to stare at Ben, who maintained your eye contact before straightening up. “She’s fine”, Ben commented. “I'm going to take a shower”, he added and disappeared into the bathroom.

“Oi, what happened?”, Butcher joined you and Hughie and held out a beer to both of you.

“Kevin knew all too quickly that something was off. As he and Ben were fighting, I somehow got in the way”, you lied, looking at your broken wrist. “And the cunt won or what?”, Butcher asked incredulously. “No, but… Ben helped me and Kevin was able to escape”, you mumbled. “Well fucking shit”, Butcher cursed. “Hopefully MM and the others had better luck”.

Butcher didn’t believe a single word you said, but he was still too angry at Hughie and himself to pursue your lies any further.

“You really should see a doctor (y/n)”, Hughie took your injured wrist. “You need a ride?”.

You just shook your head in response. Your nerves were on edge and all you wanted to do was to hide under the covers. "It's not that bad… I… should sleep, my head is buzzing and everything hurts… wake me up when there's news from the others, okay?". Hughie narrowed his eyes briefly before he sighed. “Lie down in my room. At least you’ll have some peace and quiet”. You nodded gratefully at him before disappearing into Hughie’s room.

The next time you opened your eyes it was pitch black. You sat up sluggishly and weakly and took slow steps towards the living room. You feel like you're being run over. Your forehead was beaming, your face was red and your eyes were glassy as you saw Ben on the sofa with a bottle of whiskey. "Where are the others?", You asked quietly, leaning on the armrest of the sofa. "They have A-Train. Trying to get something out of him", he grumbled, still looking at the television. Your legs started shaking and your vision blurred. It felt like your body was burning. “Ben, I think…” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before you collapsed. Ben's quick reaction prevented you from hitting the floor. “Alright, I got you drama queen”, Ben murmured as he caught you.

“Hey, (y/n)”, he tried to wake you up by lightly slapping your cheek a few times

However, when Ben heard your weakening heartbeat, he actually became slightly nervous. He focused on you and your body. A few seconds passed before he heard blood running down inside your upper body.

"Fuck", he cursed loudly. While you were already unconscious, Ben thought about what to do. He fought with himself for a bit, but he knew that no matter what he decided, time was running out.

“It’ll either kill you or it’ll help you”, Ben muttered to himself before taking Butcher’s injection kit and pushed you onto the couch with him.

By now it was a race against time. One of your broken ribs must have punctured your organs and the fact that you were still alive was a miracle.

Ben was sure you wouldn't survive an operation, let alone the drive to a hospital.

As your breathing and heartbeat grew weaker, Ben cut his wrist and collected the blood that dripped from the cut in a mug. Due to his fast healing, it took a few tries before he had enough blood. “Come on (y/n). You can do that”, he whispered hastily, pulling your almost lifeless body onto his lap and sucking up its blood with a syringe. Without further ado, Ben tore your shirt off your body and felt your vena cava with his fingertips. When he felt the strong pulsation, he positioned the tip and hoped for the best as he pushed the needle through your soft skin and pumped his blood into your bloodstream.

If Ben hadn't been so focused on you, he might not have missed how hard his own heart was racing as he waited for his blood to take effect.

“C´mon, Sweetheart”, Ben almost whispered as he held you in his arms, stroking your cheek with his blood-stained fingers. If you died now, it would be his fault. Your life would be over because he would have lost self-control.

He bit his lip nervously, his eyes glued to your face. No one should ever see him like that. He was afraid. Afraid for a small, weak human. Afraid for a fucking woman. What did you do to him to make him soft enough to care about you? To care about anything than himself.

He knew he had to put an end to it all. Soldier Boy couldn't be vulnerable. He couldn't have any weak spot at all.

After a few minutes that felt like hours, you suddenly jumped violently, inhaled sharply, and sat upright on Ben's thigh. Your eyes were big and sparkled blue for a few seconds. Shocked and overwhelmed, you rubbed your chest where you felt a strong tugging sensation. Only then did you notice that you no longer had a shirt on. “What the…” you breathed, confused. Your hand slid to your temple, which was throbbing like it was about to explode.

“How you feeling?", Ben looked at you from the side, his eyebrows furrowed. One of his arms was still around your waist. He was just relieved that you were still breathing.

“I…I think”, you started, but the pulsing of your heart interrupted you. The voices on the TV, Ben's breathing, the sound of his thumb stroking your thigh - it all overstained your thoughts. You pressed your palms against your ears, your face contorted in pain. "Make it stop", you begged. With each beg your voice became shriller, more and more tears ran down your cheeks while Ben looked at you disturbed.

“What should I stop?”.

“The noises!”.

The realization was written all over Ben's face. He looked around, wondering how he should help you, before finally knocking you out with a well-aimed blow to the temple.

“Sleep well, sweetheart”, he chuckled, sliding you onto the sofa so only your head was on his lap and pulling the blanket over you. You had some side effects, but that was probably part of becoming a supe this way.

24 hours.

You were asleep until you were rudely awakened by the sweet roar of Butcher and Soldier Boy.

"I didn't fucking kill her!", Ben growled angrily. “It’s been 24 hours! And (y/n) looks absolutely anything but alive!”, Butcher bitched back.

When the rest of the team came home yesterday and Ben told what he had to do, none of the others believed that he really wanted to save you with his half-hearted and hasty action, but he couldn't admit what he had felt in that moment. Not to himself and especially not to Butcher and the rest of the gang.

“I know what your bloody plan is. You've wanted to make her a supe since you first saw her. You think she would be looser and easier then. That she finally lets you into her panties. But I can promise you mate, it won’t work on (y/n)”, Butcher hissed. Ben laughed bitterly and derogatory. “You’re fucking delusional”.

Ben paused for a moment. Unfortunately, Butcher had a point. It would really be an advantage if you were no longer human. No longer easily breakable. But those weren't the reasons why Ben gave you his blood. Not at that moment.

“She would be dead if I hadn’t given her my fucking blood”, Ben insisted.

“Why the hell was she even hurt in the first place? I assigned her specifically to you because I thought if anyone could protect her, it would be America’s ex-golden boy!”.

“You fucking going to start this again?”, Soldier Boy approached Butcher threateningly and stood in front of him. The two of them were so busy measuring the length of their cocks that they didn't notice you slowly sitting up in Soldier Boy's bed. You could hear everything, but it took a while for not only your head but also your body to come back alive.

“Well, that’s a lot of testosterone for a small country like this”, you whispered in a husky voice, catching the attention of the two alpha monkeys.

“Oi, you’re alive. What a damn nice surprise”.

Even though Butcher was talking to you, half-heartedly asking about your well-being, your eyes were on Ben. It still felt like your brain was swimming in your head, so you attributed the tightness in your chest you felt as you looked at Ben to the side effects of… whatever.

“I’m feeling much better, thanks”, you murmured, continuing to maintain eye contact with Ben.

"What happened? Like… after the mission went terribly wrong".

As Ben lowered his head slightly to look away from you, you looked around the room. You were in Ben's room.

"Well, young lady, the twisted Dracula here can tell you", Butcher clapped Ben's shoulders from behind with both hands before leaving the room without another word, knowing full well that if his hands touched Soldier Boy two more seconds, he would have literally ripped his head off.

“Ben?”, you whispered after a few minutes of silence.

He heard your heartbeat and his switch turned.

"You fainted. I gave you my blood. You're alive”. His voice was as monotonous as his facial expression. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion before asking. "What do you mean fainted and you gave me your… blood?“.

Ben rolled his eyes dramatically as always. He was so annoyed with this world today and the fact that everyone was so slow to understand anything or always had to question everything.

“You’re not that fucking stupid, are you? Do I really have to explain every little thing to you now?.

Your look probably said more than a thousand words as Ben groaned in annoyance, crossed his arms and explained to you exactly what had happened.

“I injected you my blood to prevent you from dying. Apparently, it worked. You're still breathing", he shrugged.

"Wait. You didn't know if this would work? Are you kidding me?”.

“Do you think one of my hobbies is to distribute my blood like a sperm donor? The last time I provided my DNA to someone, they bred this fucking son of a bitch. So, no. I didn't know if it would work. And yet, I saved your fucking life! How about a fucking thank you?!”, Ben hissed and took a few steps towards you.

“Did you miss the fact that I broke my ribs just because of you?”, you replied, now also with your arms crossed.

You stood facing each other. So close you could feel the warmth radiating from his chest.

“Why did you lose control in the bar?”. You wanted an answer more than anything.

Ben knew the answer to your question. It was on the tip of his tongue. But he knew it wouldn't change anything. And even if…then what? You thought so poorly of him that you didn't even wanted to kiss him. You were so disgusted with him that you never wanted him to touch you. What on fucking earth would make you let him call you his own?

“Uhhh, there's a lot of tension here, mes chéris. You should definitely talk to each other…naked is best”, Frenchie chuckled as he came in to check you were okay.

———————————

A/N: I'm not a supe-doc, so I had to get creative😅

Hmmm, what could happen in the next chapter? Probably not what you expect 🫣

Please let me know what you think.🥰

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Part 6

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Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch

[waynes-multiverse]

Bad Reputation – Chapter 7

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Series Summary: In a world full of careless supes, powerful people, and corruption on all levels, Y/N’s the typical millennial, trying to make the world a better place one good deed at a time. As a civil rights lawyer in New York City, justice, kindness, and selflessness are her motto. Her patience is tested, however, when none other than America’s ass himself shows up on her doorstep and needs help.

Warnings: +18, strong language (please mind the fandom), angst, PTSD, mentions of depression & suicidal thoughts, fluff, soft!Soldier Boy, SMUT

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: Welcome back to the end! 😈 I will be posting all remaining chapters of this series this week & I’m so excited to share it with you all! I know we left off with a bit of tension, but I’m pretty sure you’ll like where this chapter is going 😏

Feedback is my fuel, so please let me know if you enjoy this part! 🖤

<< 6 || Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Y/N’s night is godawful. She keeps tossing and turning on the squeaky mattress, haunted by the dead Soldier Boy left in his wake. The small bedroom is engulfed in sinister darkness, the city lights a faint blur outside her window, far away from any clarity. And among the booming metropolitan noise, her ears suddenly pick up the first few snores.

Her eyes pop wide open.

Warily, she peers over the edge of her bed and notices the supe curled up on her floor, head resting on a couch cushion and a thin blanket thrown sloppily over his large body. Apparently, he snuck into her room at some point. Her surprise is only overshadowed by the familiar stinging ache in her ribcage as she observes him. Dead asleep, he almost looks harmless and peaceful, even a bit innocent. He doesn’t look like a killer, a predator, or a nuclear bomb. He simply looks like Ben.

He stirs a little, his angry brow furrowing and the fucking kissable lips moving. His mumbles are incomprehensible, but she concludes his dreams aren’t pleasant, judging by the way his face contorts. Something begins to gnaw at her insides, her mind aware it’s pity that’s metastasizing in her heart. Still, she won’t get reeled in by his charm and the puppy dog eyes. If anything, she should be happy a guy like him is suffering in his own damn mind prison. He’s built it himself, after all. Brick by asshole brick.

Rolling onto her other side, she tries to blend out his little whimpers and strained breaths. Meditation helps. Breathe in, breathe out, repeat. It helps until utterances turn into full words. The agonizing sounds are knives to her ears, forcing her to flip onto her back with a frustrated sigh. “Dammit.”

Her bare soles hit the hardwood floor as she kneels down next to him, ignoring the razor-sharp pain in her sprained ankle that winds itself to her thigh. Placing a hand on his naked shoulder, she feels the tense bulge of muscles under her pads as she carefully shakes him awake. “Ben? Wake up.”

Grumbling, the freckle-dusted nose scrunches, but he only wakes up at her next harder shake. His eyes burst wide open and flutter vigilantly as he jolts up straight, his brain instantly jumping into defense mode as if someone’s yelled ‘Action!’ in the middle of her bedroom. His muscular chest rises and falls with labored breaths, oblivious forest green eyes staring at her before anxiously buzzing around the dark.

“Did you hear that?”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay… It’s just me,” she says, smiles softly, and cups his neck to draw his attention to her. Her hand brushes the sweat-drenched locks of hair from his forehead, fingers tenderly running through his beard. He blinks several times, two thick digits rubbing the sleep from his weary eyes before their gazes connect.

“What the fuck happened?”

“I think you had a nightmare,” she says quietly and offers him an understanding look.

“Fuck you. I don’t have nightmares,” he bites like an unloved shelter dog, his brow forming the same angry wrinkles she’s grown so accustomed to over the last few days.

“Ben, it’s just me,” Y/N shrugs harmlessly and shoots him an empathetic smile. His gaze focuses on her for several heartbeats, eyes intensely studying her features as if he’s not sure it’s genuinely her. “Is that why you’re sleeping on the floor?”

“No, I’m fucking sleeping here because you fucking bitch told me I wasn’t fucking welcome in your fucking bed,” he huffs bitterly, a flash of hurt crossing his orbs.

“You coulda said something, you know? It’s okay if you don’t wanna sleep alone,” she maintains patiently and feels his Adam’s apple harshly bob in her palm.

“‘M fine. There’s nothing to fucking talk about. I don’t need to fucking chit-chat about fucking feelings, okay? I was in a fucking war. Do you even know–”

Her lips silence his as she dives forward and swallows the rest of his rant. His large hands are quick to weave into her messy bun and drive her closer to him, his deadly tongue snaking between her lips and needily deepening the kiss.

When his rough palms begin to roam her body and his fingers dent her flesh, she breaks from his wet lips and wordlessly grabs her pillow from the bed, throwing it next to his on the ground. As Y/N lies down, the supe mimics her movements and lays his head on the cushion next to her with a calm and yet bemused expression. She shuffles closer and curls into his frame, her arms wrapping around his bare torso, skin connecting with skin. It takes him a whole minute, probably filled with a million convoluted and extraordinarily disturbing thoughts before he decides to hold her back.

“You don’t have to be alone. I’m here,” she whispers against his steel armor of a chest and feels his grip tightening around her until it becomes hard to take a breath. “Your heart’s beating really fast right now,” she smiles up at him and then notices his dumbstruck expression, reminding her of someone stuck right in the middle of a wild acid trip. “Are you okay?”

“Hm? Mhm, yeah, uhm… I’m good, angel. Don’t worry your pretty head about it.” Ben pats her crown, his other palm rubbing her back reassuringly, even though she heard the reluctance in his voice.

Ah yes, the generation that doesn’t want to talk about their feelings. Seems to be going great for them…

When Y/N shifts back an inch to get a better look at his face, his hold on her only strengthens, already fearing a potential distance. His mouth then opens, finally courageous enough to say something, one entrancing gaze permeating her soul.

“Look, uhm… I know what I did fucking wrong, alright? But what do you want me to do about it? I can’t fucking take it back now, can I? I did whatever fucking Vought told me to do. Stand there, smile here, say this shit, do that shit… until it wasn’t fucking good enough anymore,” he mutters the last part under his breath, the grave offense written in permanent ink. Letting out a humorless chuckle, he rubs a palm over his face to calm the building storm within him before it has the chance to culminate into a hurricane and blow up the apartment. “I just know that it happened a fucking long time ago… and I’ve spent the last fucking forty years paying for my goddamn sins. Believe me.” He pauses, green eyes piercing her heart like an arrow and twisting the pointy tip inside the muscle. “So, you tell me – is it enough yet?”

One single look at the broken man in front of her determines the final ruling. “It’s enough… I’m sorry, Ben.”

There’s a beat of silence, his defense paper-thin, before he quietly mumbles, “‘M sorry, too.”

Trying to not let her surprise show, she catches the teensy smile on his lips that acknowledges his contribution. “I just-… I feel really bad for all the people that died, you know? And all the loved ones they left behind, who’ll miss them forever.”

“Yeah, good people usually do,” Ben concedes and strokes her cheek like she’s holy, emerald eyes boring into hers. The color of his orbs always reminds her of the grass at the cemetery, lush green adorned with golden specs and a lot of death lingering underneath the beauty. “I guess I just got used to it. I mean, when you live as fucking long as me, you learn that only one thing is certain, and that’s death. Eventually, they all just fucking blur together…”

It’s a spineless excuse, but it dawns on her that Soldier Boy might not be the biggest cause of evil after all. It’s always been fucking Vought.

Look at him. He’s a complete fucking idiot, just another one of Vought’s puppets. They saw someone’s weakness and shot a guy with ginormous self-esteem issues full of poison, making him believe he was the greatest man alive, untouchable to a fault.

And boy, is it a fucking fault…

He was celebrated as a hero, treated like a movie star, and loved by many until there was no one left to love him. And now, he’s just a sad, old man who’s lost in the present and would rather be stuck in the golden days of his past.

“So, uhm, Hughie and Butcher want me to add this fucking Homelander wimp to the payback list. What do you think?”

Well, what does she think?

Every time she hears that name, her insides twist as if she’s about to vomit and her heart bleeds with the intensity of a thousand cuts, but Y/N will be damned to let the hurt show.

“I don’t think you should do it.” She has a valid reason to wish that motherfucker out of existence, but strangely, she doesn’t. She’s not willing to give into the whole notion of ‘an eye for an eye’ truly achieving justice. Nothing in this world is going to bring her Ben back, least of all more death. “I don’t think you should kill anyone.”

“Y/N–”

“No, just listen,” she pleads and surprisingly watches his mouth close. “Why even bother and give them the time of day, huh? Why put more hurt out there? You don’t have to do this. I mean, is that really what you want? You could just go and live your life. Fuck those haters.”

Her superpower as a lawyer has always been words, especially words she doesn’t believe in. Those are her greatest weapon.

“Look, this isn’t a discussion you and I are gonna have,” he shuts her down, jaw tightening with a firm glare, the green in his irises darkening to a dangerous color and signaling that his alter ego is taking over. The ego that’s refusing to listen to the angel on his shoulder. “These assholes need to know where their fucking place is, so they don’t fucking dare to come after me again… or you.” His eyes catch hers in his periphery, his look threatening to burn the whole world down if someone defied his warning. “Do you understand that?”

“If you go, I’d go with you,” she blurts out her suggestion and instantly shuts her mouth with a harsh lip bite, not knowing what kind of madness possessed her mind. Maybe it’s just all the desperation and loneliness that finally drove her fucking nuts. Or maybe it’s the one sacrifice that balances all previous mistakes. Maybe this could be something good. Maybe it saves fucking lives in the end.

The supe’s eyebrows draw tightly together upon her proposal, two emeralds staring at her with potency, bewilderment, and, well, suspicion. “Why the fuck would you do that?”

Roughly tearing her teeth into her bottom lip, she fumbles with her fingers, her eyes focused solely on the temporary distraction, and then she takes a deep breath. “I’m-, I’m really sad,” she confesses with a hard swallow and shoots him a glance she soon averts but continues nonetheless, hopelessly hoping that offering him a piece of her will get her a piece of him. “Most days, at least. It’s been like that for a while, ever since, uhm… I mean, sometimes I feel like I’m just waiting around until I can see him again, you know? I don’t really have a purpose anymore. Every day’s kinda the same dark, bleak hole… A part of me was even hoping you’d kill me. Still does, actually.”

“It ain’t gonna be me, angel. Sorry to disappoint.” Ben licks his full lips and offers her a faint smile that’s surprisingly sympathetic, the corners of her mouth tugging slightly upward to mirror his. “Glad you’re still around, kid. I mean, you were my first pussy in forty years. A man doesn’t forget that.”

With a snort, she buries her face in her arms, her strangled laughter filling the silent space as her cheeks flush the brightest pink. Dear God, he always says the most inappropriate stuff. The pure cringe of his words is sometimes so shocking she can’t help but laugh. It’s the reflex of second-hand embarrassment. “You’re the worst,” she grins teasingly and yet interlocks her fingers with his, the size difference not even comparable. “But you know what? I’ll take it.”

“Yeah, you fucking did,” he chuckles with a boyish smirk and wiggles his eyebrows. When she scoldingly attempts to hit his chest, he catches her hand in a blink of an eye and kisses her knuckles, placing it on his heart instead.

“I don’t wanna be alone either, you know?” she admits and feels a slight squeeze of the hand he’s holding. “It’s fucking hard.”

Ben nods as if he knows the feeling before a provocative grin molds on his lips. “You don’t even like me, angel.”

“I don’t like Soldier Boy,” she corrects him. “I don’t like the guy that insults and manipulates and bullies and hurts people. And honestly? I think you don’t either… But I like Ben. He seems like a nice guy when he actually tries, you know?”

“Hmm,” he hums, the tone deep and vibrating in his chest. He clasps her hand even tighter, his mind wandering somewhere she can’t reach. A few heartbeats of silence pass before he rolls onto his side, facing her, and cradles her cheek, fingers brushing a few strands of hair behind her ear. Momentarily, his heart is on his sleeve, bright and shiny for her to see, each impulse of his guided by clarity. “I’m gonna try really hard, okay? I’m not gonna fucking disappoint you.”

The sturdy palm on her cheek is unusually shaky when his oath leaves his lips as she witnesses him swallow harshly, the teary gleam in his orbs a mix of torment and determination. “That’s a big promise,” she whispers, aware it’s impossible for someone like him to keep.

His head bobs in acknowledgment. “Yeah, but I don’t wanna cheat this time. I wanna fucking earn it.”

“What does that mean?”

Through endless eyelashes, Ben gazes at her as time slows and becomes redundant, the sea of emotion in his eyes overwhelming her every thought. Like Columbus, she stares at the empty horizon and sees a whole world waiting for her there. Her heart bursts and falls to pieces when he leans closer and presses his lips on hers. Every move is slow, sultry, and tender. It’s unlike any past kisses they’ve shared, which were reigned by need, hunger, and lust.

Any protests of hers are swallowed by his tongue as he snakes a hand between her thighs and effortlessly rips her underwear off her body, not wasting a minute on the nuisance of undressing. Love-deprived, he spreads her legs apart and masterly slips between them, tugging the gray sweats over his perky ass enough for his thick, long cock to spring free, the red tip glistening with precum. The brush of his heavy length against her smooth thighs suffices for her pussy to clench around nothing and beg for so much more. And as if he could psychically hear her desperate mental pleas, his dick slides into her tight channel and immerses himself to the brim in nothing but her. When his swollen tip scratches her hottest spot, she lets out the moan she’s been holding in with her breath.

“Man, you know what I love about this fucking gorgeous cunt? It’s so wet my cock slips right in. Don’t even have to use fucking lube,” Ben smirks, his eyes drifting down and watching his wet dick disappear inside her hole with fascinated fixation.

His expression always resembles a little boy’s who has found something interesting during his trip through the woods. Maybe it’s because the supe really hasn’t seen any naked lady parts in a long ass time or even had a chance to play with them. She supposes she’d be weird about it as well if she hadn’t gotten any dick in over forty years.  

Clasping his chin, she lifts his eyes back to her face and pecks his lips. “How about no talking during this one?”

“C’mon, I know you like the dirty talk, my naughty little angel,” he grins slyly while fucking her leisurely, slow and steady like he’s got all the time in the fucking world, a mix of beard and blond locks tickling her face.

You know those deep tissue massages where they basically punch their fucking elbow into your shoulder to loosen those damn tense knots, and it’s so orgasmically good that it makes you want to scream and bite your tongue till it’s fucking bleeding? Yeah, that’s exactly what his giant cock feels like inside of her.

“Oh, I love the dirty talk,” she smirks with a bite of her lip and tries not to pass out, her eyes concentrating on each freckle that marks his broad chest, attempting to count them all like the stars in the sky. “But with you, it’s like a box of chocolates. I never know what I’ll get.”

Musingly, his gaze lifts over his shoulder, hair falling into his flawless features. “Huh. I like that metaphor.”

“E-Everyone… d-does,” she croaks out, her walls tightening around him as he picks up his pace. “It’s from Forrest Gump… it’s a movie from nineteen-ninety-fou-ah-oh fuck! Ben…” Her climax takes her words away, one cleverly executed and rough slam of his hips shoving her over the sweetest edge of the highest fucking cliff.  

“Figured if you still had enough air to talk, I could go a little harder on you,” he taunts, smirking down at her with that bastard look of his.

“Message received,” she exhales breathlessly, closing her eyes for a second as the room starts to spin, and only awakes with his next soft kiss on her lips – like a princess from a slumber. His movements still, the tenderness turning scorching as his tongue breaches into her mouth and his teeth tug on her lips.

“Alright, no more talking,” he agrees and pecks her hairline, contrastingly sweet to anything else he stands for. His hot breath fans against her ear as his lips brush past her shell and whisper, “Even though I love when you moan my name, angel.”

His cock draws out of her heat, leaving only the tip inside her cozy confines. His meaty fingers roll up her shirt till her tits come into view, each graze of his digits causing more goosebumps to form. Submerging his head between her breasts, his hungry mouth captures one tit, the honed tongue delighting her nipple until it hardens between his sharp teeth. When he’s done with both, he ravenously nibbles, kisses, and sucks his way to her face and rests his forehead on hers, rough palms exploring her body as they prey on every inch of her delicate flesh, roughly securing her legs around his waist. Once his green eyes are sure she’ll hold his gaze, his hips snap against hers, his dick fully drilling back into her cunt.

“Oh Goh–!” A large palm clasps her mouth and mutes her screams of pleasure. He sends her an amused smile, reminding her of their silent agreement, and she can see by the twinkle in his juniper orbs that it turns him on as much as it does her, his cock gleefully twitching inside her dripping pussy.

With every strong thrust, she bites a little harder down on his calloused fingertips between her parted lips, crude whimpers escaping her throat. His eyes tightly squeeze shut and break their hypnotic hold on her, carnal huffs leaving his nostrils. His head becomes lost in the crook of her neck as hers falls back and digs deeper into the pillow underneath it, her toes curling until they cramp behind his back. When the band in her belly finally snaps, he lets go, grunts coarsely against her salty skin, and spills till she overflows.

The tenderhearted caress on her hot cheek causes her eyes to flutter open, his kiss breathing new life into her.

“Don’t fucking leave” are the first words she hears again, his green eyes pleading and the gruff voice a warning.

As the first few sun rays filter through the dingy blinds and reach her eyelids, her mind begins to wake.

Oh God…

Her back hurts, her hip bone stings as it drills into the hardwood floor beneath it, and there’s a throbbing pain in her contused ankle. She might be younger than her counterpart by several decades, who currently peacefully snores into her shoulder blade, but she’s still too fucking old for a goddamn floor nap.

“Morning, angel,” he hums half-asleep and marks her skin with a wet kiss. As soon as his mouth produces words, she already feels his dick rising against her ass, greeting her as well.

Jesus fucking Christ, that man is insatiable.

The strong arms, which are tightly wrapped around her frame, then start to explore the body they’re holding. His nimble fingers tweak her bud until it peaks, his large palm kneading the same tit, while his other hand torturously climbs down her stomach, her muscles tensing under his featherlight touches till his fingers reach her damp slit, swiftly push her folds apart, and draw teasing circles on her clit. His arms are like a straitjacket around her, caging her in a prison of filthy pleasure – only she isn’t even remotely thinking about an escape from his embrace.

“Mmmmh, fuck,” she mewls and reflexively grinds her ass against his firm cock. His beard deliciously scrapes her sensitive cheek, her hand reaching behind to weave into his hair, fingers tugging on the blond locks until he groans lewdly into her ear.

“Shit, that feels so fucking good,” he grunts as he vigorously sets her nerve endings on fire, every touch of his like burning acid on her skin. “Figured you can’t walk anyways with that ankle of yours. Might as well make sure you fucking can’t, right? I wanna fucking ruin you, my pretty little angel.” She feels him smirk against her skin before his pearly whites sink into her shoulder with the intent to taste her blood.

“Shit… M-more,” she pants and wriggles in his grip, her only wish to be maddeningly fuller.

“Yeah? Want me to claim you? Make you fucking mine?”

“Uh-huh,” she nods in agony, the pressure on her bundle of nerves only increasing.

“And what do good girls say when they want something, my love?” Feeling his little taunting chuckle against her spine, she knows the cunning bastard is enjoying her torture greatly.

“Please, please, please.” Upon her desperate prayers, his hand leaves her dripping pussy, tongue licking her juices from his thick fingers with a deep hum. The supe’s palms then carefully bend the knee of her upper, injured leg as he positions himself behind her and threads his thick cock through her cascading arousal. She’s a writhing mess in his hold by the time his tip breaches her entrance and gasps sharply when he’s fully sheathed in her.

“Man, I love this fucking pussy,” he exclaims blissfully and sucks on the skin behind her ear, his scent enveloping her entire being. He always smells like nicotine, booze, leather, and everything sinful that she fucking craves – the bad boy who doesn’t give a shit about his reputation.

Soldier Boy is the fucking used needle in her arm, the last dirty drag of a cigarette before lighting the next one, all the while fucking hating yourself for being so goddamn weak that you can’t escape the circle.

“Mmmm,” Y/N hums while she chews on her bite of buttered toast, pointer finger musingly tapping her chin as she sits on the little stool by the kitchen counter. “Favorite song? Be honest, though, even if it’s a guilty pleasure.”

“Hm, alright,” Ben smiles next to her and accepts her challenge, taking a bite of his scrambled eggs before he replies with a mouthful, “Night and Day. Sinatra.”

“Huh,” she stumps.

“You know Sinatra?”

“Duh. I’m a New Yorker. He’s a legend,” she says, almost offended by his question.

“Well, I’m sorry, angel. Was second-guessing your generation’s musical taste for a hot minute,” he quips.

“Whatever, grumpa.” Y/N playfully rolls her eyes and sticks her tongue out, slinging some of her food down with coffee. “Uhm… favorite movie?”

“Casablanca,” he answers lickety-split.

“Aw, I love that one,” she smiles widely and is, frankly, baffled by his oddly romantic choices. “Besides, Humphrey Bogart was so hot.”

Ben drops his fork onto the plate and cocks an eyebrow in his usual offended manner, smacking his plush lips. “You know the guy was only fucking 5ft 8, right? I mean, I hung out with the fucking Rat Pack back in the day. Bogart barely reached my shoulder.” She bites back the grin and presses her lips together. “What?!”

“Nothing,” she smirks cheekily, her dimples red and hurting. “You’re cute when you’re jealous over a dude that’s been dead for a really long time.”

“Fuck you,” he scoffs with another bite of his eggs, but his palm finds her thigh and squeezes her flesh reassuringly. She giggles, seeing him smile as well.

“Oy!” There are a few loud pounds that accompany that utterance, both their heads turning to the closed front door. “Ready to go, mate?”

Butcher.

“In a fucking minute!” Ben yells back, his deep voice irritated and booming.

“Where are you going today?”

“Herogasm. Going after the fucking twins,” he barks as he rises from his seat and pecks her crown on his way to the bathroom, probably to suit up. Sometimes, she goddamn swears the man has a split personality, going from soft as a kitty to ferocious like a dragon spewing fire.

“Herogasm? Wait, that’s a real thing? I thought that was just a myth like that island where they hunt people.” Her brow furrows as she follows him and leans against the doorframe.

“Not a myth. I founded it,” Ben winks before shedding his clothing, her bathroom warping into a strip show – she’s not complaining.

“Course you did,” Y/N snorts.

“And that island is real too, by the way,” the supe adds and slips into his suit piece by piece.

“What?!” Her jaw momentarily goes slack before she blinks out of her stupor, her focus shifting back to her roommate and her little mission. “Do you really have to kill them?”

Ben halts his movements and looks at her with a deep sigh. “I’ll try not to if they fucking talk. How’s that?”

Well, she’s not a fan of his compromise, but she supposes it’s her best bet, aware he won’t let go of his grudge that easily.

“C’mon, lads, really?!” Butcher shouts anew, clearly growing agitated with the wait.

Rolling her eyes back, Y/N moves to open the door, finding the Brit waiting with Hughie on her doorstep. Butcher instantly greets her with a smirk while the kid averts his eyes in discomfort.

“Y/N, love, how have ya been?”

“Better,” she grimly replies and checks around the corner if Ben’s still busy in the bathroom before hissing, “What the fuck are you shitheads doing with Soldier Boy? Hughie said you’re gonna use him as a weapon.”

The Brit then shoots Hughie a look, the kid quickly scrambling for an excuse, “Uh, to be fair, I did not think she’d remember any of that.”

“Oh, I remember. My brain was on fire that night,” Y/N smirks challengingly and folds her arms over her chest. “So, what’s up?”

“Well, good news is we might be rid of a certain cunt in red, white, and blue soon,” Butcher grins. “Wouldn’t you like that, huh?”

“Butcher, Soldier Boy’s not a weapon. He’s a human being who’s been through a lot,” Y/N argues. “He needs help, not some dickhead taking advantage of him. Stop using people for your fucking revenge porn fantasies.”

Butcher props his arm against the doorframe, leaning closer to her with a daring smile. “Oy, have we caught feelings for grandpa, or have you forgotten he’s a bloody murderer?”

“Right, I’m sorry. I forgot you and Hughie have the moral high ground here,” she retorts sarcastically and catches Hughie’s guilty look before entering into a staring match with the older man. “You think I want him here? He broke in and refuses to leave. What am I supposed to do about it, huh? He’s a fucking supe.”

Butcher licks his lips and rubs his jaw, his head bobbing. “You can lie all you fucking want to like it’s a bloody courtroom, love, but I know Soldier Boy cares about you, so you just keep the lad happy, and we’ll handle the rest. If ya need more weed and pills, just call Hughie here, alright?”

“Oh, so you want me to keep him stupid and heavily sedated. Who is he to you? A fucking girl in a club? Stop date-raping him,” Y/N bites and narrows her eyes to a death stare. “Fuck you. I’m not helping with this.”

“Everything okay here?” Ben’s deep voice cuts through the tension as she feels his presence protectively towering behind her.

“Everything’s absolutely perfect, guv. No need to worry,” Butcher assures, but the supe doesn’t seem to believe him, his gaze wandering to Y/N with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, everything’s fucking peachy,” she confirms bitterly, all the while glaring at Butcher.

As soon as the supe leaves through the door and disappears with the boys down the hallway, the eerie feeling in her gut only multiplies.

This isn’t fucking good.

Chapter 8

They’re bonding! 🖤 Hope you liked this chapter and please let me know if you did 🤓

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[obessivedork]

It's just how gameplay shook out for me but I reached max affinity with MacCready helping a ghoul kid find out what happened to his family and MAN sometimes things that work out so perfect that you WISH you'd wrote it or done it on purpose 😭🖤 Two very sad Dads doing the best for their sons helping ANOTHER lost kid find home because they can't be with their own kids right now but they can help Billy, dammit!

[theangelssing]

Painting

Ben being Ben, gender neutral!reader, third pov, Ben & reader are a couple, Reader is friend with The Boys

warnings: physical touch (romantic way), fluff & soft mostly, domestic fluff

a/n: this imagine will have a next part, mention of The Boys, only based on the tv show! forget everything about the end of the boys and let’s pretend the boys and soldier boy are friends <3

prompt: You thought Ben was the kind of guy who doesn’t remember anything their partner talk about. But You were wrong, Ben actually does remember everything you’re talking about. Here’s the proof with a painting you absolutely loved.

“Luv, where did you see the painting you were talking about the other day?”

You looked at him with big round eyes.

“Can you repeat, please?” you asked.

He only entered the room but was surprised to see you looking at him like that.

“Uh,, I was asking you about the painting you were talking about the other day. Where did you see it?”

“You mean, the painting?”

“Well, I think so, yeah,” he answered, kind of disturbed by how you were acting. “Doll, you sure you’re okay?”

You didn’t reply straight away, you were trying to understand how he could’ve remembered this small detail.

“We’re both talking about the painting from the small gallery on the street the boys are staying?”

“I guess, yeah, I think so, why?” Ben was slowly starting to worry.

“I barely mentioned it, never thought it was that important for you.”

It was Ben’s turn to look at you with big round eyes.

“Luv, you were really excited to go there only for that painting. ‘course I remember it.”

“Well, true, but it wasn’t the most important thing we did the other day.”

“You said you wanted it in your house. It was important.”

You looked at each other, you still shocked and him still amazed by how you could imagine he wouldn’t have remembered that detail.”

“Anyway, I asked because the exhibition ends today and the owner wants to sell it. Do you still want it?”

You blinked before pinching yourself.

“Luv why are you doing that?”

“Who told you about that? I didn’t mention it!”

“Not to me but you talked about it with Hughie. I was there y’know, still have functional hearing. And a brain.”

“Yeah, right,, sorry. Just didn’t think you would remember that.”

“C’mon, let’s ask the owner so you can have your painting.”

You lowered your eyes, looking at the floor. Ben took your hands, he didn’t understand your brutal change of behavior.

“As sweet as it is from you to propose that, I can’t afford buying the painting,” you sadly said.

“Who said you will buy the painting?”

For the second time you blinked and looked at Ben with big round eyes. You stayed speechless while Ben was grinning.

“Doll, don’t forget who am I, please.”

“I don’t but,,”

“No but, you let me offer you that painting.”

He was strict but sweet as the same time. You still could make your own choice, of course, but you knew he was sincere so it wasn’t difficult.

“You sure? I don’t wanna,,”

“I’m sure luv, if I tell ya,” he replied softly.

You finally nodded and Ben knew it was your answer. A bright smile took place on his lips.

“Right, let’s get ready then.”

He kissed you and you only murmured a ‘thank you’.

“Of course luv, anything for you.”

Ben was hard sometimes, but with you he was gentle, patient. You were happy to be with him, and thankful to the boys for letting you be with him.