#the boys

[thesilmarillionblog]

𝐁𝐄𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐒 ─ one shot.

Summary: You play Soldier Boy's wife in the new movie. He's a method actor, and so are you. 

Pairing: Soldier Boy / F! Reader

Warnings: +18! (Minors DNI), SMUT, Soldier Boy is cheating CC, rough sex, oral sex (m! receiving), kinda role playing, kinky, unprotected sex, dirty talk, porn without plot lol, set in late 1970's

Word Count: 3283

A/N: English is not my first language.

"Cut!"

Soldier Boy winked at you, pulled his lips back, and loosened his firm arms over your back as the director ordered. His hand continued to touch you daringly during the romantic scenes, so it must have been fun for him to witness your heart race. After licking your lips, you faced the director, who had been discussing the specifics with the rest of his staff.

With an anxious expression on his face, the director wanted to tell Soldier Boy something, but he was too scared to say anything since Soldier Boy wasn't the most sensible person when it came to providing guidance. Whatever was said to him didn't matter. Never.

The director then collected all of his stuff and gestured for you to join him. After taking the iced coffee, Soldier Boy turned to face the anxiously breathing and sweating director in front of him. 

“Now what?” Sitting in the chair, Soldier Boy stretched out his muscles and asked in a harsh voice.

Soldier Boy became irate every time he was given instructions to act with greater enthusiasm and better, suggesting that the director, Mr. Nathan, must be dying of dread and worry. 

“It's a romantic film,” Mr. Nathan remarked, appearing to become agitated as he brought up his hands on his hips. “And the subject at hand is war. It's meant to be intimate and heartfelt.”

“And?”

“You shouldn't behave as though you're going to have sex like you're in an adult film. I hope you don't take offense, sir. You're an excellent actor. However, would you mind being a bit more romantic? It would be quite beneficial.”

Snorting, Soldier Boy said, “Fuck that. A sentimental war film, huh? Jesus... I have no doubt that young soldiers would find greater use for pornographic films if we produced some. Believe me, If I fuck her and then leave her to join war, that would make women and men all cry their eyes out. Are we really making this trash movie for housewives only? Who approved this fucking script anyway?”

“Sure and no, sir—no, definitely not. I'm among those who approved, of course, and I can tell you that the script is excellent. Act a little more genuine. This is a movie that everyone should see. If you'd prefer, we could change the actress. If it would help you to be partners with Crimson Countess, maybe we can arrange that.”

The director looked at you, and you crossed your arms over your chest. Stupid coward. That would be the beginning of your best work, but his terrified ass was prepared to destroy your career before it had ever begun. 

“Oh fuck no!” Soldier Boy gulped down his cold coffee. “Not her dry pussy coming over here. My co-star is talented and fine enough.”

You were going to defend yourself in front of the director, but luckily Soldier Boy was kind enough to stand up for you, which made things much better. You were giving him every indication that, in the end, you would do anything to get this job. You would never have taken part in a greater movie before, and Soldier Boy would be the ideal match for it. That was the top of your career already. He was attractive and interesting, but it was difficult to resist and melt into him at the moments when he was meant to give you a gentle kiss. Clearly, that wasn't his thing—being gentle and loving.

It wasn't your thing either.

Mr. Nathan sighed and answered, “Sure,” becoming tired of Soldier Boy not caring at all about what he was trying to say. “We're all going to have some break, and then we can go on filming, is that alright?”

“All right. Whatever,” Soldier Boy said. His specialty was not romantic war films, obviously. He sounded so corny in situations that you could be positive he detested every single love phrase he ever delivered. But none of you had the guts to tell him that out loud. 

If he wasn't concerned about his acting in the first place, that didn't matter to you. There were times when you found it amusing that he was exaggerating in order to enrage the director. It was difficult for you to not break your character in these situations. The kissing scenes, however, were exceptional. You would have let him fuck you if he had made the move right then. He was only getting you wet with his tongue. 

As soon as Mr. Nathan left, Soldier Boy stood up and stepped toward you, looking intently at you. Your entire body tingled with anticipation. Desire was already causing your legs to tremble. 

With a low tone, he said, “Follow me,” and handed his empty cup to someone. 

With joy, you followed instructions. You had already been thinking filthy stuff since the morning. Your pussy was swollen, and your underwear was already wet since he had been teasing you so much. 

He locked the door when you followed him to his trailer.

He approached your body and looked at your long skirt before saying, “So,” and licked his lips. “What are you thinking about that guy who said that? About acting and anything else?”

As his thumb lingered on your breast, stroking it to make you go wild, you put your hands over his chest, excited about what was about to happen. Your thighs tensed with yearning. 

Whispering, "He might be right," you ran a hand down his chest and felt his hardness through his trousers. 

He smiled a bit at you when he realized you were ready for a quick fuck. You continued to softly touch him there, and his cock hardened. 

With a sigh, “About?” he began to undo your dress so he could see your tits. 

“About your acting,” you muttered as his harsh hand continued to torment you. “You should act more romantically and intimately.” 

“Hmm,” was all he said. 

He palmed both of your tits after he had finished unbuttoning your dress. 

“I consider myself to be a method actor,” he said, grinning arrogantly at you. 

You smirked and said, “What a coincidence; me too,” as you unzipped his pants. You lowered his pants and waited for him to give you guidance. “But what would your girlfriend, Crimson Countess, think about that?”

“I don't see an issue if you seal your pretty mouth. I also don't want to fuck her dry cunt forever. Now, get on your knees,” he said rudely, then, putting his hand behind your head, he pushed you on your knees.

Your pulse was pounding as you followed instructions. It wasn't that you were inexperienced, but it also wasn't that you were doing it for the first time. It had only lasted a minute or two until you had completed it in the past. It hadn't pleased you. You had immediately stopped. 

You were ecstatic to see Soldier Boy's massive, pulsating cock, though. You wrapped your hands around his thick shaft, and you licked your dry lips, sensing its weight in your palm. It was exciting and tantalizing to consider sucking the strongest superhero on the planet. 

You murmured, looking at his face and lightly brushing the tip with your lips, “What do you want me to do?” It was apparent that he was beginning to take pleasure in and enjoy what he was seeing. “Sir.”

He grinned at you and tightened his grasp behind your hair when he heard the final word, letting you know how weak you are in comparison to him. After all, you were both method actors, and the game you were playing was harmless. He was definitely thrilled.

He continued, taking his big cock in his hand and pressing it against your lips. “You're a naughty one, aren't you? About to be railed and excited to suck your co-star's cock. Not because you want to get the job, but simply to be fucked.”

“Maybe,” you said, licking the tip with your tongue. It didn't taste horrible, but it was salty. “Maybe I just want to get fucked by a supe; maybe it's because I want to keep my job.”

He finally lost patience with you and shoved his cock inside your mouth when you continued to tease him. You obeyed and took his cock in your mouth. You could take the head since his shaft was far too big for you, yet it was clear that he wanted more.

“Or perhaps I agree with the director's wish for my co-star to act more intimate in his part.” You teased him and palmed his heavy balls, adding, “Would you act more romantic just like you are expected if I was there, standing while your cum inside me?” You were certain that he would come early enough.

“You shouldn't worry about it. My cum will be flowing between your legs as you wander around,” he groaned. “But you'll suck that cock nice firstly.”

He pushed his cock into your mouth again before you could respond. You started to lick it by slowly getting used to the size of it before figuring out the right rhythm.

“Take it more,” he moaned, pressing your head on his cock. You were too aroused to resist, yet it was difficult to withstand his strength.

You attempted to take more of his throbbing cock by opening your mouth wider and placing your hands on his knees for assistance, but it was too huge.

“Fucking take it,” he snapped, annoyed by your poor attempt. Taking complete control, he then reached behind your hair with his other hand and stilled your head.

He made you choke around him by forcing half of his cock into your mouth with such power that you gagged uncontrollably. But you were determined to push yourself to the very limit. Under the mercy of the most powerful supe made you feel things. You had no idea that you needed such treatment in order to suck a cock properly. You became more and more wet as he applied more pressure, made you choke, and filled your mouth with his cock. 

When you finally had enough of him, he withdrew so he could grab your mouth and start to fuck your face.

"You like that, don't you?" He moved your head to his cock because he enjoyed it. "You like being used like this? You like being controlled, huh? Yes, fuck. Take it!"

His cock, which was covered in your saliva, began to pulse in your mouth as he continued to fuck it. You clenched up, knowing what was about to happen. Your fingers gripped his legs more tightly as you tried to keep up with his power. 

He asked, “You want it in your mouth?” However, it was obvious that it wasn't a question. Both of you and him were lost in pleasure. 

Soldier Boy pulled back his cock and rubbed it on your reddening lips and waited for your response. 

“Yes, please,” you moaned. “I need you finish in my mouth.”

He groaned, “Anything for my co-star,” and pushed his shaft back into your mouth as hard as he could. It was hot inside your throat. 

You shivered in delight and disbelief as he started to flow in your throat, releasing his hot sperm. You moved a bit to relax, but he gave a loud grunt and stilled your head. 

He moaned, “Fucking swallow,” as he continued to thrust his cock farther. You were so out of breath that tears were streaming down your face. He was cursing as he filled your mouth with his thick cum.

When he makes you taste him, you close your eyes and let him release his hot semen into your mouth fully. Though you weren't sure whether you liked the taste at all due to how strong and salty it was, you really enjoyed the whole process. You felt slick there; the way he was controlling your body was beyond perfect. 

He withdrew his cock back once he had finished fucking your mouth. 

Grasping your chin firmly, he said, “Let me see it.” 

Your mouth opened. Excited, you could feel your legs quivering and hoping he wasn't done with you just yet. Even though you weren't sure whether you had enough time to go all the way, you needed to be touched so desperately. 

He said, “Good girl,” seeing that you swallowed all. “Get up now.” 

Without allowing you to react, he made you stand once more. It was absurd how he was still hard destipe spilling inside your mouth seconds ago. You wondered how frequently he would need to come in order to soften. It may have been because he was a supe. The cause didn't matter to you. Thank goodness he had the energy to continue. After all, you had your own needs. 

“I hope we are not finished yet,” you stated, indicating your intentions with another stroke of his now firm cock. 

“You want to be fucked badly, don't you?” Your long skirt was pulled up by the tough hands of Soldier Boy, who gave you a sly smile. “You enjoy getting fucked by engaged men?”

When his erect cock brushed your thighs and you felt out of breath, you taunted him, “Only the supes.”

He chuckled and had a brief look at your underwear. You were relieved he hadn't ripped them off. He removed your tits from your white bra and pushed your unbuttoned shirt down. You arched back properly when he gave your nipples a little play.

“Let's check to see whether you're wet enough to handle it all now. Tell me you're not a virgin.” He gave a warning but added, “I'm going to fuck you raw anyway.”

“I'm not,” you moaned, impatient for him to get inside. This time, you were unable to stop pleading. “Could you please fuck me already?”

The way you begged him made Soldier Boy smirk. “Since you're begging so nicely...”

He grabbed your hair into his palm, then gave his cock five or six firm strokes to make himself completely erect. He then bent your body into the trailer's wall and positioned himself behind your entrance. 

When you actually noticed how much bigger he was than your hole, you gasped. Not that you didn't get fucked, but it had really been a while. 

“Relax a little for fucks sake. Take it properly, or it's going to hurt. I won't give a fuck,” he warned, pressing himself farther inside of you.

You tensed up. He was pulling your hair a little and knowing that if he utilized his strength a little more, he could break your neck. That should have alarmed you, but instead it enhanced your excitement. Being at a supe's mercy as he fucked you was more exciting than any other sex you had ever had because you never knew if he might lose control while trying to get his pleasure. 

He made you scream with pleasure and pain as he pushed his entire cock inside of you, pushing back with one strong motion. You began to moan and tried to fix your balance, but he instantly stilled your body by pulling your hair.

He moaned in rage, “Don't fucking move,” and proceeded to fuck you senselessly. Your eyes watered with every move he made, and your insides ached a bit. Both the pleasure and the pain that you experienced were immense.

“That's how you should get fucked. Like a slut you are. You are a slut, aren't you? You wanted me to fuck you there?” He groaned while continuing to penetrate you from the back. Your hair was tugged again by his hand. He needed a response. 

“Yeah,” you moaned, placing a hand against his severe grip on your hip. “I needed you to fuck me right there.”

He was obviously pleased with your response since you could almost hear him smirking. 

“Oh, yeah. Are you not embarrassed to want to have sex with an engaged man? Allow him to use your body any way he chooses. Show him that you are better than his future wife. You like the idea of a supe cheating on his girlfriend with you?” His filthy words caused your walls to contract as he gave you a strong and quick fuck. You were embarrassingly wet. 

You teased him, “So what?” in between moans. “In the film we're in, we're husband and wife, right? We need to get into the role properly.”

“Do you think you can wear my sperm right there and yet perform your role properly? What would they say if they knew? Will you tell them you wanted me to fuck you so that you could do your role more effectively? Do you want everyone to know your cunt is full of my cum? Is that it?” 

You knew that the game you were playing was making him more thrilled, so when he bent your body harder, you let out an excited gasp. He widened your legs and placed both of his hands on each side of your hips. Without his support, you would have already fallen. 

You screamed out, “Yes, please, please,” as your walls continued to clench around his thick cock. “Husband.” 

“Oh fuck,” he groaned as he got closer. He firmly gripped your bouncing tits and gave them a firm squeeze. “I'm going to fill you so good. Going to satisfy my wife's small greedy cunt nicely. Do you really want that, baby?         Where do you want me to cum?”

Moaning, “Yeah, oh fuck, fuck. Please come inside, husband.” Your orgasm hit so hard you had to scream his name this time. You were sure some of the staff heard your screaming. Your walls clenched badly. You got his dick wet with your slick as your legs were trembling frantically. You felt like you were about to pass out from the intense fucking you were getting from him during your peak.

He moaned, “Whatever my wife wishes,” as he continued to penetrate you despite your oversensitivity. He then began to come inside of you with a loud grunt. Before he came, he held your hips so forcefully that you felt he was going to break your body till he was satisfied. 

He cautiously removed his cock after giving you a bit more pleasure and making sure he had emptied his balls within your pussy. He gave you a hard spank on the ass and complimented you on your well-done move, seeing how his sperm was flowing between your legs. 

You grinned to yourself and pulled up your underwear when you knew you were fucked well for real. You could let him fuck you again since his hot sperm in you felt so nice. 

As he was complimenting you, you could hear him stuffing his dick back into his pants. “Now that was a good fuck.”

You looked at him and fixed your shirt, skirt, and hair. “I'm glad you enjoyed,” you said, biting your lips. You could still taste him.

“I'm sure I'm not the only one who enjoyed it,” he said, immediately lighting a cigarette and giving you a sly smirk. 

You were told to expect on the set in five minutes when someone knocked on the door right then. You smiled to yourself, undisturbed by the stares from the staff, and spent the remainder of the day with Soldier Boy. You both believed that the method of acting had had the intended impact on you and him. The director was pleased with the two of you. After the break, Soldier Boy was acting better, at least. If only they knew the reason.

It's true that method acting helped you get into your roles better. Particularly behind the scenes.

⋆⋅☆⋆☆⋅⋆───⛥───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───⛥───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Comments and reblogs are very appreciated. Let me know what you think please. For more, here's my MASTERLIST. ♥︎

[snmenji]

"but... i asked for [RESPONSIBILITY]"

"yea, but you got the a-train, baby!"

[skeletonea]

Me on my way to reading all the fics with the hashtag "kinktober" in it.

[moopiter]

this popped into my head like a flash bang at wallmart earlier

now someone draw butcher lighting them on fire

[muldermuse]

i wanna feel butcher kissing down my chest whilst his big hands are pinning my wrists above my head :)

LOOKING DOWN AT ME LIKE THIS

[arcannaa]

Pov: you're in the middle of reading a really good smut and it's just getting to the good part and Tumblr fucking CLOSES AND UPDATES. AND YOU DIDNT LIKE THE POST YET AND CANT REMEMBER THE NAME SO ITS LOST TO YOU FOREVER😭😭😭😭😭

[trashgyrl]

his stupid face everytime he's with his son

[vergeltvng]

THE BOYS 1x06 | The Innocents

[demigoddessqueens]

Favorite type: morally dubious and dark haired

[frownyalfred]

Random ask i forgot to send but my brain just remembered:

In your THE BOYS X Justice League oneshot, how would Homelander have reacted to learn not only does Batman have a team that follows and trusts a non-powered member, but that he has another team of almost fully non-powered members, that he calls "family" and they care about him and take down powered supers like him almost daily?

Devastation? More jealousy?

(I know very little of THE BOYS but doesn't Homelander himself have a kid?)

From what we’ve seen in the most recent season of The Boys, Homelander’s motivation (other than what we’ve previously seen) is wanting his son to like him, to be like him, to follow in his footsteps. It’s shown as this kind of “humanizing” moment that he twists into some sort of anti-aging, Supe-superiority thing. But, I think the moments we do see with Ryan are very telling. He tries, in his fucked up way, to be soft with him — or what he considers “soft.” He buys Ryan a milkshake when he’s sad. He comforts him over killing a human even though he clearly doesn’t agree.

Contrasted to Bruce’s kids, the difference is startling. His kids respect him, they’re loyal, and he doesn’t have to work twice as hard as Homelander does for them to even think about looking to him as a father figure. He would be, to Homelander, effortlessly Father-like. Despite the complexity of the Batfamily’s relationships, of course.

Homelander’s deal is realizing Ryan grew up human and feels human, and when he himself is more human, he can reach Ryan. But he also hates the human part of himself and tries to get rid of it, as we see.

[ishomieokay]

People who say Homelander is not racist crack me up. He is. Hearing people speaking Spanish makes him mad. He promotes anti-inmigration laws. He found out Stormfront waz a Nazi and literally shrugged it off. He refers to a Muslim supe as Captain Al-qaeda 💀

He is racist. He's a Trump parody. That's like his whole thing.

[snmenji]

suddenly remembered i can draw anything i want

i wish they had more interactions... i like to think cherie helped kimiko get ready for her glammed up mission in russia during s3e4

[lila-lou]

✨His second exception - Pt. 20/?✨

Summary: The moment Ben found out you were pregnant was probably the happiest moment of his life. However, happiness proved fleeting. Now, he is faced with the aftermath of his shattered dreams. Of what is left of you, and what is left of him.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: Language, fluff, angst, kinda kinky?

Word Count: 5211

A/N: This is the sequel to “His only exeption” - and Part 20 of "His second exception".

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

By the time you were seven months pregnant, the baby’s room was mostly finished—painted in soft, calming tones, furniture set up, and little details falling into place. You had thrown yourself into work and preparation, trying to juggle both despite your growing belly, the increasing discomfort, and the unpredictable mood swings that seemed to come with the territory. Ben, unsurprisingly, wasn’t thrilled with your insistence on still working at the tower, especially as your pregnancy advanced. It grated on him to no end, but with your moods swinging between snappy and tearful, he wasn’t about to pick a fight. Not now, at least.

It didn’t stop him from being his usual grumpy self, though.

The day before had been rough—your aches and pains were worse than usual, and Ben had borne the brunt of your frustration. You had snapped at him over something small, and the rest of the evening had been an uncomfortable silence punctuated by your occasional venting. Ben had been patient, but it clearly wore on him, and by the next day, he was as grumpy as ever.

His mood wasn’t helped by Butcher’s sudden arrival in his office, grumbling as usual. Butcher stomped in without knocking, his typical scowl in place, his eyes narrowing at Ben, who was sitting behind his desk, brooding.

“Oi, Daddy”, Butcher grunted, leaning against the doorframe with an air of irritation. “Your lady forgot to call back the construction crew for my office. We’ve got a bloody leak, and now my space looks like the inside of a sewer".

Ben shot him a glare, his jaw clenched, clearly still simmering from the previous evening. “Maybe if you didn’t treat your office like a pigsty, it wouldn’t have sprung a leak in the first place”.

Butcher snorted, not one to back down from a jab. “Yeah, yeah. Blame me all you want, but your missus was supposed to get it sorted”.

Ben’s patience was thin, worn down by the past few days of mood swings, your discomfort, and the pressure of trying to keep things calm. With a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, Ben shot back, “Why don’t you tell her yourself, Butcher? You seem to have a death wish anyway”.

There was a glint of amusement in Ben’s eyes, even through his grumpiness. He knew how fierce you’d been lately—normal pregnancy mood swings were one thing, but carrying a Supe’s baby? That seemed to have kicked things into overdrive. He wasn’t about to explain that to Butcher, though. Let the man figure it out for himself.

Butcher raised an eyebrow, his smirk faltering slightly. “Aye, no thanks”, he muttered, crossing his arms. “I’ve seen her when she’s pissed off at you, and I’d rather not have my head bitten off today”.

Just as Ben was about to throw another sarcastic comment Butcher’s way, the door to his office swung open again, and in walked Frenchie, looking pretty determined. His eyes flicked between Ben and Butcher before settling on Ben, clearly sensing the tension but oblivious to the undercurrent of the conversation.

“Ah, Soldier Boy, I’ve been meaning to ask”, Frenchie started. “About the new table for the lab? The one Y/N said she was going to get for me?”.

Ben leaned back in his chair, exchanging a quick look with Butcher. They both knew exactly where this was going, and from the sly grin that was beginning to creep onto Butcher’s face, it was clear he wasn’t going to miss this opportunity to stir the pot.

Butcher, always one for trouble, smirked and nodded toward Frenchie. “Well, why don’t you ask her yourself, mate?”. He raised an eyebrow, clearly egging Frenchie on. “She’s just in her office. Go on, tell her what you need”.

Frenchie, being Frenchie, didn’t pick up on the dangerous undercurrent and actually smiled with relief. “Ah, merci! That would be great. I’ve been needing that table for weeks”.

Ben, trying to stifle his own grin, leaned forward and gave a little nod. “Yeah, Frenchie, go ahead. I’m sure she’d love to hear all about your lab needs”.

Butcher chuckled softly under his breath, clearly enjoying the unfolding chaos. Frenchie, still none the wiser, gave a quick nod and a grateful smile before turning on his heel and heading for your office, leaving Ben and Butcher behind, silently exchanging knowing glances.

“I’ll give him three minutes”, Butcher said with a grin.

Ben smirked and stood up. “Three minutes? You’re fucking generous”. He nodded toward the door, jerking his head in the direction Frenchie had just gone. “Come on, let’s go watch the show”.

The two men followed Frenchie down the hall, keeping a few steps behind as he approached your office. They could already hear the soft sound of papers rustling, the telltale sign that you were in the middle of something important. Frenchie, ever the optimist, knocked gently on your door and poked his head inside.

Today had been one of the roughest days of your pregnancy so far. Your back was killing you, and the constant pressure made it nearly impossible to sit comfortably at your desk. Worse than that, despite being seven months pregnant, you still hadn’t felt the baby kick. Every check-up had been normal, and the doctors said everything was fine, but the absence of those little movements left you feeling anxious, sad, and disconnected. You had also been late to your doctor’s appointment that morning, all thanks to a bout of uncontrollable nausea, and the doctor hadn’t been particularly gentle in scolding you for it.

So, by the time Frenchie knocked on your office door, asking about that stupid table, your patience was long gone. You were a mix of pain, sadness, and frustration—a dangerous cocktail for anyone who dared to ask the wrong question.

Frenchie barely had time to poke his head in before you snapped.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?”, you barked, your voice louder and sharper than you intended. The exhaustion in your tone was unmistakable. Frenchie froze, clearly not expecting the outburst. “A table, Frenchie? You came in here, in the middle of my day, to ask about a fucking table?”.

Frenchie, always quick with a response, tried to stammer something about the lab, but you weren’t having any of it. “Do you have any idea what kind of day I’ve had?”, you continued, standing up and pacing as best you could, your hand resting protectively over your belly as if trying to soothe yourself. “I’ve been puking all morning, my back is on fire, and I’m trying to manage a hundred different things right now—and you want to bother me about a lab table?”.

Frenchie blinked, eyes wide, as he tried to backpedal. “I-I didn’t mean to upset you, I just thought—”.

“Well, you thought fucking wrong!”. You cut him off, your voice rising. “I’ll get to your stupid ass table when I get to it. But right now, I can’t deal with this trivial nonsense!”.

From down the hall, Ben and Butcher were standing just out of sight, leaning against the wall, listening. Butcher was struggling to keep his laughter contained, watching the scene unfold with a glint of amusement in his eyes.

“Blimey”, Butcher muttered under his breath, shaking his head. “Frenchie’s about to get himself cooked”.

Ben, despite his grumpy mood from earlier, couldn’t help but smirk. “Told you she’s not in the mood for this crap”, he said.

Back in your office, Frenchie, who was normally the calm and collected one, was looking increasingly panicked. He took a step back, holding his hands up in a defensive posture. “Okay, okay! I’m sorry! I’ll come back later, maybe…”.

But you weren’t done. “Or maybe you could just not come back at all about this ridiculous table! You think I don’t have more important things to handle?”.

Just as you were about to continue laying into Frenchie, a faint but unmistakable sound of snickers reached your ears from outside the office door. The deep, rumbling chuckle of Ben, and the distinct, sarcastic tone of Butcher. They were out there enjoying your meltdown as if it was some kind of spectator sport.

Your frustration, already teetering on the edge, boiled over.

Without thinking, you stood up from your desk, your back protesting with a sharp twinge as you moved, and stormed toward the door. Frenchie, wide-eyed and clearly out of his depth, muttered a quick apology and took a few steps back as you brushed past him. You threw open the door, your eyes immediately locking on the two men standing in the hallway, mid-laugh.

Ben and Butcher froze the moment they saw you, their grins evaporating as they caught sight of your furious expression. You stood there, hand on your belly, glaring at them with a look that could cut through steel.

Ben, realizing just how deep he was in, raised his hands in a half-hearted attempt to calm the situation. “Hey, we were just—”.

“You two think this is funny?”, you snapped, your voice sharp enough to make both of them flinch slightly. “I’m in here, dealing with pain, stress, and this constant nausea, and you’re out here laughing at me like it’s some kind of joke?”.

Butcher, ever the troublemaker, couldn’t resist a quip. “Well, love, to be fair, it was a little—”.

You shot him a glare that immediately shut him up. He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Right, not the time”.

Ben sighed, stepping forward, his expression softening as he tried to reach out to you. “Babe, we weren’t laughing at you, we were just—”.

“You were laughing at me!”, you interrupted, your voice cracking slightly from the frustration and exhaustion. “You know how hard this has been for me. I’m tired, I’m in pain, and I can’t even feel our baby kicking yet. And now I have to deal with Frenchie bothering me about some stupid table, and you two think it’s funny?”.

Butcher, never one to miss an opportunity to be a sarcastic ass, smirked and muttered, “Sounds to me like what you need is to get laid—properly—by ol’ Soldier Boy here. That’ll fix that mood right up, eh?”.

The second the words left his mouth, you felt a wave of red-hot fury wash over you. Without even thinking, you stepped forward and slapped Butcher across the face, the crack of the hit echoing down the hallway. Butcher staggered back, his hand going to his cheek in shock, his usual cocky smirk replaced by a wide-eyed look of disbelief.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake—”, Ben growled under his breath, stepping forward quickly, his hands reaching out to gently but firmly grip your upper arms, holding you back before you could throw another punch at Butcher.

“Get out of my way, Ben!”, you snapped, still glaring daggers at Butcher. “I’m not done with him”.

But Ben didn’t move. He tightened his grip slightly, keeping you in place but doing his best to stay calm. He knew better than to fight against your temper when you were this wound up. But despite the seriousness of the situation, there was a flicker of a grin tugging at the corners of his lips—he couldn’t help but find your fiery anger a little bit amusing, even though he knew you were pissed off.

“Easy there, tiger”, Ben murmured, his voice low and soothing as he gently pushed you back toward the office. “Let’s not go knocking Butcher’s teeth out today. As much as he deserves it”.

Butcher, still rubbing his cheek with a grimace, looked from you to Ben and then back to you, clearly trying to figure out if he should laugh or get the hell out of there. “Bloody hell, I didn’t think you’d actually hit me”, he grumbled, but there was a hint of admiration in his tone. “You’ve got a right hook, love”.

You took a deep breath, trying to rein in your anger, but the tension in your body remained. Ben could feel it, too, his hands still holding you steady as he maneuvered you back into the office. His grin hadn’t fully disappeared, though he was doing his best to stay serious. “Come on, let’s get you inside before you really knock his head off”.

You shot one last glare at Butcher before allowing Frenchie to go and Ben to guide you back into the office, the door clicking shut behind you.

As soon as Ben let go of your arms, you didn’t waste a second. You smacked his chest, though it was more of a lazy slap, your frustration still simmering but no longer white-hot. “Stop smirking, you dick”, you muttered, glaring up at him as he tried—and failed—to hide the grin tugging at his lips.

Ben barely flinched at your half-hearted hit, still chuckling softly under his breath. “Can’t help it”, he said, his hands resting casually on his hips as he leaned back a little. “It’s not every day I get to see you smack Butcher in the face. You’ve got quite the temper when you want to”.

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. “Yeah, well, you could’ve helped me instead of standing there like an idiot”.

Ben’s smirk softened into something more affectionate, though the playful glint never really left his eyes. He stepped closer, his hand gently brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “You didn’t need my help. You were handling it just fine”, he murmured, his voice low and warm. “Besides, you’re way more intimidating than me when you’re pissed off”.

You huffed, trying to hold onto your annoyance, but it was difficult when Ben was looking at you like that—with that mix of admiration and amusement.

As you looked up at Ben, the frustration that had been fueling your earlier anger began to dissolve, replaced by the deeper worry that had been gnawing at you for weeks. The anger was a mask for the fear and uncertainty you couldn’t shake. Your eyes, once blazing with annoyance, softened with unshed tears. Without thinking, you mumbled, almost to yourself, "Why don’t I feel the baby’s kicks? Everyone else feels them way earlier".

Ben’s teasing smirk vanished the moment he saw the change in your expression. He stepped closer, his hands immediately cupping your face with a tenderness that contrasted with his usual rough exterior. His thumbs brushed gently against your cheeks as he held your gaze, his voice soft and full of reassurance.

“Hey, none of that”, he said quietly, his forehead resting against yours for a brief moment. “Every pregnancy is different. You’ve been to the doctor, right? They said everything’s fine”.

You nodded, swallowing back the tears that were threatening to spill. "But I should feel something by now, right? I keep reading about it, and everyone talks about feeling the baby kick so much earlier. What if something’s wrong".

Ben’s hands moved down to your waist, pulling you gently into him, his touch grounding and steady. “Nothing’s wrong. The baby’s just taking time, like it´s mom", he murmured with a soft smile, trying to bring a little lightness to the moment. “Just waiting to make the perfect entrance, I bet”.

You sniffled, resting your head against his chest, finding comfort in his warmth. “What if it’s me? What if I’m not doing something right?”.

Ben’s grip on you tightened slightly, as if he could physically hold you together when your thoughts started to spiral. “You’re doing everything right”, he whispered, his lips brushing the top of your head. “You’re carrying our kid. That’s the hardest, most important job, and you’re killing it. Don’t fucking doubt yourself”.

You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to lean into him fully. His strength and his unwavering belief in you helped ease some of the fear that had been festering. "I just want everything to be okay".

Ben pressed a kiss to your forehead, his hand sliding down to rest gently on your belly. "It will be", he promised, his voice a soothing rumble. "We’ll take it one day at a time, okay? And when this little one finally kicks, you’ll see. It’ll all be worth the wait".

You nodded against him, feeling a little more at peace, even if the worry hadn’t completely faded. You trusted Ben’s words, and that gave you the strength to keep going.

Ben hesitated for a moment, his fingers still lightly tracing circles on your back as he held you close. You could feel the slight shift in his body, as if he was considering something carefully. After a beat, he pulled back just enough to look at you, his expression softening as he searched your face.

"Hey", he started gently, his voice lower, almost tentative. "Why don’t we take the rest of the day off? Just you and me". His thumb brushed your cheek in that familiar, reassuring way. "We can go grab those stupid pumpkin spice cookies you’ve been talking about for days".

You blinked up at him, momentarily caught off guard by the suggestion. Ben was rarely the type to suggest time off—he was usually the one pushing himself through whatever needed to get done. The fact that he was offering this, knowing how much you needed it, made something warm bloom in your chest.

"You’d do that?", you asked softly, your voice still a little thick from the earlier emotion. "I know you’ve got a lot going on".

Ben shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I’d rather be with you right now than deal with any of that fucking shit. Besides", he added with a teasing glint in his eyes, "I’ll finally get to see what the hype is about with those cookies".

You laughed softly, the sound surprising even you after the emotional rollercoaster of the past few minutes. "You’re gonna love them", you said, feeling lighter already.

Ben grinned, leaning down to kiss your forehead again before taking your hand. "Let’s go, then. Pumpkin fucking cookies and some time away from all this. Just what the doctor ordered".

As you and Ben made your way out of the office, his hand found its familiar spot on the small of your back, the warmth of his touch easing the ache that had been nagging at you all day. It was such a simple gesture, but it brought you comfort—one of the many ways he silently supported you, especially during these harder days.

A few more tears slipped down your cheeks despite your efforts to rein them in. You wiped them away quickly, determined to pull yourself together. Ben noticed but didn’t comment, simply giving your back a gentle rub, letting you know he was there. The two of you walked in silence, but it was a comfortable one, both of you in sync with each other’s needs.

As you reached the hallway, you spotted MM coming your way. His expression shifted from mild curiosity to concern as he noticed your tear-streaked face and Ben’s protective presence beside you.

"Everything okay?", MM asked, his tone careful, sensing the tension between you and Ben.

Ben didn’t miss a beat, his usual gruffness tempered with a calm firmness. “Yeah, we’re good. We’re taking off for the day”, he muttered, nodding toward the door. “You’re in charge while we’re gone. Also, you’re doing her work for the rest of the day”. Ben gestured to you with a little smirk that, even in your emotional state, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at.

MM raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue. “Got it”, he said, his voice steady. He glanced at you with a kind expression, the concern still lingering. “You take care of yourself, alright?”.

You nodded, offering him a small smile in return. “Thanks, MM”.

Ben gave him a curt nod before gently steering you toward the exit, his hand still resting on your lower back as the two of you headed out of the tower.

You leaned back in the cozy chair, the warm scent of cinnamon and nutmeg filling the air as you munched on one of the pumpkin spice cookies you’d been craving for days. You watched Ben, who was sitting across from you in the quiet cafe, his large frame looking slightly out of place in the quaint setting.

“You like them?”, you asked, a playful smile tugging at your lips as you watched him take another bite of the cookie.

Ben paused, his brow furrowed as if he was deep in thought, chewing slowly before finally shrugging. “They’re… alright”, he muttered, trying to keep his usual tough exterior. But the way he reached for another cookie betrayed his true feelings.

You laughed softly, your mood lighter than it had been all day. “You’re such a liar. You love them”.

Ben huffed, though his lips twitched into a reluctant grin. “Alright, fine. They’re pretty fucking good”. He leaned back in his chair, one arm draped lazily over the back, his eyes settling on you with a soft intensity. “But I think you like them more than I do”.

You chuckled, nodding as you took another bite of your cookie, savoring the sweet spices that had been on your mind for days. Ben’s relaxed posture and the warm atmosphere of the café felt like a small escape from the stress of the last few weeks. You watched him for a moment, your gaze soft as you took in the way he always seemed to be this mix of roughness and tenderness, especially with you.

After a beat, you glanced down at your belly and then back up at Ben, your voice quiet but filled with anticipation. “The doctor said she could tell us the gender next week”, you murmured, watching his face closely for his reaction.

Ben’s expression shifted slightly, his eyes widening a little before softening again. He set the half-eaten cookie down on the table, leaning forward slightly, his attention fully on you. “Next week, huh?”, he said, his voice low, as if the thought of it was settling in.

You nodded, feeling a wave of excitement and nerves wash over you. “Yeah… I’ve been thinking about it a lot”, you admitted, your hand absently resting on your bump. “What do you think it’ll be?”.

Ben let out a soft chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know. Part of me thinks it’ll be a girl—just to mess with me”, he said with a smirk, though there was a warmth in his voice when he said it.

“But honestly? I really do hope it’s a boy”, he admitted.

You smiled softly, knowing full well that Ben had a preference for a boy. But you couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like for him to have a daughter—how his whole world might change in unexpected ways.

“You know”, you said, your tone light but affectionate, “I think a girl would be great for you”.

Ben raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “A girl? You think I’d be good with a daughter?”.

You chuckled, nodding as you imagined the softer side of him that only you got to see. “Yeah, I do. She’d have you wrapped around her little finger in no time”, you teased, watching as he shifted a little uncomfortably in his seat, though a small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You’d be completely powerless”.

He grunted in response. “I doubt that. She’d need to learn how to handle herself. I wouldn’t let her get away with anything”.

You laughed, knowing that deep down, if he had a daughter, she’d have him melting in her hands. “Uh-huh, sure. You’d be the first one spoiling her with everything she wanted”, you continued. “And don’t pretend you wouldn’t be ready to fight off every guy that came near her”.

Ben sighed again, rubbing his hand over his face with a mixture of amusement and reluctance. “Yeah, well… I guess you’re not wrong about that”, he muttered. Then, after a pause, he added, “I just… I don’t know how to be soft. With a boy, it’d be different. I could be… me”.

“You’re already soft with me”, you reminded him, your voice warm.

Ben leaned in, lowering his voice to a teasing whisper. “Yeah, because I’ve learned my lesson, haven’t I?”, he chuckled. “If I’m not nice enough, you might not let me near that nice little pussy of yours”.

You blushed, a mix of surprise and amusement at his bluntness, but you couldn’t help but laugh. It was just like Ben to mix a sweet moment with his brash sense of humor. You gave his hand a playful swat, shaking your head. “You’re impossible”, you said, though the smile on your face betrayed how much you enjoyed his bold charm.

Ben’s grin widened as he watched you laugh, the sound filling the cozy cafe and lifting the weight that had been hanging over both of you for days. There was something about the way you smiled, the way your laughter reached your eyes, that always managed to soften the rougher edges of him. He just enjoyed seeing you like this—happy, carefree, even if just for a moment.

Leaning back in his chair, his expression shifted to something more tender, though the playful glint in his eyes remained. “You know”, he began, his voice quieter now, but still carrying that teasing edge, “I don’t mind being impossible if it means I get to see you like this”.

You raised an eyebrow, still smiling. “Like what?”.

Ben shrugged. “Laughing, relaxed… not tearing Frenchie or Butcher apart", he teased with a smirk, though there was genuine affection behind his words. “It’s nice to see you smiling again”.

You chuckled softly, shaking your head in amusement as you drank the last bit of your tea. “So, what now?”, you asked, raising an eyebrow at him, your tone playful but curious.

Ben didn’t respond right away. His gaze had shifted, settling on your belly.

“Right now… I’ve got the biggest hard-on ever", he mumbled, almost to himself.

You blinked, more than a little surprised by his blunt confession. A deep blush spread across your cheeks as you stared at him, trying to process what he’d just said. “Wait, what? Why?", you asked, your voice half-laughing, half-baffled.

Ben looked up, meeting your eyes, and for a second, you saw a flash of something—an honesty that wasn’t just playful, though it was still edged with his usual teasing grin. He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly debating whether or not to elaborate, but then he shrugged, that signature cocky smile tugging at his lips again.

“I don’t know. It’s just… you", he said, his eyes drifting back to your belly, his voice low and rumbling. “Seeing you pregnant, carrying my baby… it’s doing something to me”.

Your blush deepened, heat creeping up your neck as you realized what he was saying. You had noticed it before, but now, as he said it, you could feel the weight of his gaze, the way his touch had lingered a little more often lately, his admiration for the changes your body was going through.

“I mean… look at you”, Ben continued, his voice dropping even lower, almost like a growl. “You’re glowing. Strong. You’re growing our kid. It’s… sexy as hell”.

You bit your lip, both embarrassed and intrigued by his sudden honesty. “I didn’t think you’d… feel that way”, you admitted, still processing his words. “I mean, I feel huge and uncomfortable most of the time”.

“You look incredible”, he murmured, his voice thick with sincerity. “And yeah… it’s definitely turning me on”.

You chuckled nervously, not sure how to respond to that, but the heat in your face was unmistakable. “I guess I didn’t realize you’d… get a thing for me being pregnant”, you mumbled, still a bit flustered by his admission.

Ben shrugged with a grin, leaning in a little closer.

Ben licked his lips, the teasing glint in his eyes shifting to something more intense as he stood up, a sense of urgency radiating from him. “Come on, baby”, he mumbled, grabbing your wrist gently but firmly. “Let’s get out of here”.

The spark of his energy was contagious, and as you rose to your feet, you couldn’t help but feel a thrill rush through you. He was clearly done sitting idly by, watching you when all he wanted was to be closer, to feel you.

Ben led you toward the exit, his grip secure as he guided you through the café. You could sense the eagerness in his steps, and it made your heart race. The thought of being alone with him, away from prying eyes, sent a wave of anticipation through you.

“Where are we going?”, you asked, casting him a curious glance as you stepped outside into the crisp air.

He looked over his shoulder, his expression playful but with an underlying seriousness that made your pulse quicken. “Somewhere we can have a little more privacy”, he replied, his tone low and inviting. “I’ve been waiting long enough, and I can’t just sit there pretending like I’m not dying to fucking touch you”.

A smile tugged at your lips as you realized what he meant. You felt the warmth of your cheeks flush as he led you down the sidewalk, the anticipation building between you both.

Ben turned a corner and headed toward a quieter alley, away from the bustling street. As soon as you were out of sight, he stopped, pulling you close against him. The heat radiating from his body enveloped you, and you could feel the tension crackling in the air.

“Ben”, you breathed, your heart racing as he leaned in closer, his breath mingling with yours.

He pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes dark with longing. “I need you, now", he murmured, his voice rough with desire.

With that, he closed the distance, capturing your lips with his in a kiss that ignited the fire within you both.

———————————

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

-

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@mystic-mara @kat-nee @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @star-yawnznn @me1501 @CheyNovaK @faephoria @hobby27 @baby19sthings @fitxgrld @winchesterwild78 @uddiifiigj @libby99hb @urgogodancer @urinternetmom @mochminnie @laaadygisbooornex3 @fallout-girl219

[olliveolly]

Hello people 👋🏼, isn't been a while?)

I finally finished drawing this art.

I guess this is some kind of AU?

In this universe, the canon story never happened.

butcher was looking for an addition to the boys, and got on the trail of the once most famous flying asshole in America who had been missing for a dozen years, who knows why..

who knows how the story will develop further😏

Hope you enjoy ❤️

[muldermuse]

omg YOUR BUTCHER PROMTS give me life!!

im a bit obsessed with the scenario of the first postpartum sez.. like he can barely keep his composure due to the wait and she’s really tight etc 🫣

he’s orchestrating EVERYTHING for your first time post baby- your daughter is with annie and hughie. he’s made a light dinner. run you a bath. and spent like 20 minutes making out with you whilst the lavender moisturiser covering your body dries

hes read so many horror stories about the post partum sex being painful so he’s surprised when you asked him if he wanted to have sex a few nights ago (also like???? ofc he wants to sleep with you, it’s crazy you even ask). he takes his time between your thighs, licking at your clit as he slides his thick finger against your plush walls. you’re so wet that you don’t even feel the insertion of his fingers

you beg, with tears in your eyes, to suck his cock but he’s so fucking close that he knows as soon as your soft lips press against the head of his cock- he’ll cum.

he groans “sounds real fuckin’ nice darl but i needta be in ya or im gonna cum my fuckin’ boxers”

when he slides in you, he thanks whatever the fuck is above that your eyes squeeze shut in pleasure as he glides into the hilt- his trimmed hair rubbing against your abused clit. you cum hard with a cry after like 5 thrusts and he cums quickly after

you giggle deliriously in your post orgasm haze. he pulls you into him a presses kisses to your face as laughs slip past your lips. “S’not funny…came so fuckin’ quick, feelin’ like a fuckin’ teenager”

he fucks you twice more before you have to pick your daughter up- he definitely lasts more than 20 seconds inside you 🫶🫶🫶

[hughiecampbelle]

Imagine being able to read minds and bonding with Noir:

Requested: anon

You try to pay attention, but everything Homelander says is boring. Far less interesting than what's going on in Earvings head. It isn't what everyone else is thinking or hearing or seeing. Deep can't stop fixating on his workout. If his abs have gone flabby. If the girl at the coffee shop was checking him out or the guy next to him in line. Annie's thoughts revolved around this guy she met. Tall and awkward, funny too. She was thinking of asking him out, worried she'd be too forward. Scare him off. But Earving? Earving saw these things, cartoons, that made him happy. That got him through the hard times. They were comforting to the both of you, even if you weren't too sure what they were from. You knew, whatever he had left under that mask, was smiling at the birds circling his head. He scribbled away while Homelander spoke, the two of you lost in his world. You let him know, whatever he was drawing, was nice. He thanked you, grateful to have someone to talk to. There were moments when he wasn't all there, but now he was a little more coherent. You were grateful. It was a gift to get to know him. To spend time in his head.