#kimiko x you

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐀 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐲 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ includes: billy butcher, hughie campbell, frenchie, mothers milk, kimiko, and soldier boy

↳ warnings: canon type violence and happenstances. hinted to take place during season three at some points.

↳ notes: sorry butcher is in here so much. he's the kind of guy that can't shut the fuck up, so i feel like he's always getting in everyone business no matter what

↳ song: rock me like a hurricane—scorpions

masterlist | commissions | carrd

𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐮𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫

• He has mixed feelings about you

• On one hand, you’re a great team player. Always making sure the job gets done, willing to put yourself on the line for the team, one of the most willing to kill a supe in a snap—second only to him—and always managing to make shit up on the fly whenever something inevitably goes wrong on a mission. Butcher has seen you fend off an entire team of armed Vought men before with nothing but a well timed lie and piece of pipe. That’s not something to scoff at, even if he does anyways

• But on the other hand, he has a feeling that you were just as much as an annoying shit as he acted sometimes

• “Sorry to say this guys—“ You said one night through the food in your mouth as Chinese takeout sat on a dirty table in front of you, curtesy of M.M and his pocketbook, “—but I think I’d betray you all for a fortune cookie. I’d betray my country for a fortune cookie.”

• "You say that like we ain’t already betrayin’ the cunts, sunshine.” Butcher eyed you from across the room as you nicked Frenchies own cookie from him while he was staring off at Kimiko for the tenth time that night

• “Too right, Butch.” You grinned like a shark at your idiotic nickname for him, and he ignored you as you did so; like he always did

• He definitely appreciates your enthusiasm behind his plans. Unlike Hughie or M.M, who despite working in the business of taking down supes seem to be hesitant about doing too much shit, you don’t seem to have a very strong moral code. That’s not necessarily a good thing in anyone’s eyes except for Butcher’s, who knows that he can always count on you to have his back in whatever situation he manages to squeeze himself into

• “Thanks for comin’.” He grunted at you while vomiting into a toilet, green bile spewing from his mouth. Butcher’s eyes burned with the urge to let out a laser beam, and he did so for a moment, splitting the porcelain throne we was leaning over in two

• “Want me to hold your hair back for you, honey?” You didn’t even miss a beat to start making fun of his situation, which made Butcher growl at you even from his current position. Despite your sarcastic demeanor in the moment, and the way he had just scorched an unexpected hole through the shitty bathroom, Butcher knew you’d help, no questions asked. And that’s exactly what you did, grabbing whatever he asked you to as he gave you a run down on the latest solo mission he had been attempting to get by with on his own

• “Jesus, poor Gunpowder huh?” You mused as you crossed your arms and leaned on the sink above him. For a moment Butcher thought you were granting the dead supe a bit of sympathy before he saw the glint in your eyes. “If the last thing I saw before I kicked it was your mug, I’d probably wanna get it over with yeah?”

• “Do me a favor. Go grab the toaster in the other room an’ take a nice bath with it, would ya?”

• “You first, Butcher.”

𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐢𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥

• The two of you are like peas in a pod. Two very weird, very cautious peas in a pod

• Even if Butcher is beside himself with annoyance at having another, as he put it, “soft cunt with a morality complex,” join the team, Hughie couldn’t be happier that someone seems to share his values on supes, on Vought; on the world, really

• In the first season or so, the two of you would probably spend a lot of time in between working with everyone else in the field to come up with a way to take Vought down the right way. Eventually,as we all know, that later falls apart, but it exhilarates Hughie to know that there’s people out there like him that want to try and put in the effort for things like that

• “Yeah, so if we can get one more witness about the Termite incident to come forward and testify—“ You bit your pen between your teeth and nodded as Hughie waved his hands over a stack of papers and talked at a million miles an hour, somehow understanding each and every word.

• “—then we could finally take a supe down legally. And that would make way for a whole round of others; Hughie you’re a genius.” You finished his sentence for him, slapping a hand down on the table with a grin as Hughie smiled. Somewhere in the distance someone snorted wryly, no doubt having heard the entire conversation. You had no doubt it was Butcher, but that didn’t matter to the either of you with how happy you were at the revelation. No matter how temporary it would turn out to be

• Hughie finds himself trusting you quite a bit. He can get attached pretty easily, so he finds himself willing to do anything to back you up—within reason of course. He still has some semblance of sanity left

• Listens to Billy Joel with you! Doesn’t matter if you all are coming back from a mission covered in blood—once it was whale guts—he will stick one earbud in and leave the other out for you as he presses play on a mix. More than once the others have found both of you passed out and snoring as the faint sound of Billy Joel plays through the headphones

• “Think we should wake them up, mon amie?” Frenchie tilts his head as he looks down on the both of you. Hughie chest rises and falls with a softness he couldn’t afford on the regular. You were positioned far away from him to have your back to him, somehow keeping your end of the earbud in as you drooled

• “Nah, let em sleep. God knows they need it.” M.M shook his head with crossed arms, the sight reminding him of better times

• “Oi! Stop ogling at the knackered sods and come help me with this, would ya?”

• “Fuck you, Butcher.” M.M said with a sigh, leaving the room to go and help anyway

𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞

• He fucks with you so hard

• I mean, come on, someone that’s as excited about making bombs as he is? Someone that is willing to understand French? To shit talk everyone else to their face—especially Butcher?? He might have to marry you on the spot

• Please learn French. He will literally beg you to start. Conjugates, vocabulary, even a simple ‘please’ and ‘thank you’. Anything at all. Will absolutely not judge you for your horrific accent or pronunciation if you have any

• Bomb lessons on the side, too. If you already know the basics, or are a pro, it’ll be a lot more breezy, but he’s willing to start from scratch. It’ll be nice to have a partner to help him with his creations on the team for once, and even better since he likes you

• The two of you, and Kimiko obviously, are practically joined at the hip. What I said about the shit talking earlier was real, too. All of you use different languages or sign to voice whatever you’re thinking. It’s nice to be able to speak your mind freely, and there’s the added bonus of not having M.M give you that sharp look of his, or Butcher calling you names. Anymore than usual, that is

• “What do you reckon the three of ‘em are always on about?” Butcher took a swig from his drink. He was sitting next to Hughie with a beer on one of their down days as the younger man typed away on a computer. He was watching you Frenchie and Kimiko from across the room as you all signed at each other with giant smiles on your face. Frenchie would speak occasionally, but all that came out was his mother tongue, and your face would pause for a moment as you let your brain process what he was saying. Then all of you would break out into another round of grins, something that Butcher had to deadpan at

• “Probably planning a coup.” Hughie answered Butcher without even looking up from his screen. He knew who he was talking about anyways. It wasn’t hard to guess thanks, to the occasional loud exclamation from Frenchie as you signed something particularly risqué or funny

• Butcher flitted his eyes away in annoyance from you all after he recognized the word ‘cunt’ in the passing conversation, along with a sign that was clearly supposed to represent him

• “I think at this poin’ I’d prefer tha’.” He grumbled into his cup, and all of you laughed

• “Cheer up, Butcher. At least Frenchie isn’t teaching them how to make homemade cherry bombs again.”

• “Shut up.”

𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐤

• Finally. Someone other than him can be the voice of reason in the group

• It’s tiring being the one to hold everyone together all of the time. It might help if Butcher wasn’t so much of an ass, or if Hughie didn’t feel the need to derail every plan with thoughts of his own, but M.M knew that wouldn’t be happening anytime soon. So he’d take any help he could get with reigning everyone in

• Definitely bonds with you over your shared habit of wearing band t-shirts to meetups or hideouts. I’d like to imagine that at one point the both of you show up wearing the exact same one, and it goes exactly how one would expect

• “Same shirt.” M.M notices one morning, pointing at your torso with the initials N.W.A written over it. He’s smiling, and so are you as what he’s wearing in turn dawns on you

• “Same shirt!! Hell yeah.”

• Fist bumps. Fist bumps galore, man. The two of you fist bump a lot. To punctuate sentences, drive a point home, agree on stuff—anything. It’s your own way of communicating with each other without having to bat an eye

• It’ll take M.M a while, but eventually he’ll start to really open up about missing his family to you. Beyond just showing you pictures of his daughter at soccer practice, I mean. If he trusts you enough to have his back in a shoot out, then he trusts you with this

• At one point, it goes farther than his (regrettably ex) wife and daughter, and eventually branches out into what he’s willing to tell about his dad and brothers. You feel like you know all of them by the time he’s done, and that only makes the typewriter story hit harder when he finally decides to reveal it

• Let’s just say you were pretty willing to jump Soldier Boy on M.M’s half the first time you were left in a room with them

• “Just one swing I swear—“

• “He will literally beat you into a pulp.” M.M deadpanned, doing his best to avoid looking at the other imposing figure in the room as he clasped two hands on either of your shoulders

• “Listen to your friend, sweetheart. Would hate to have to scrub my hands clean of any of your blood. Getting under the fingernails is always hard.”

• “See what I mean, just one punch that’s all—“

• “No.”

𝐊𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐨

• It’s honestly great for her to be able to hang around someone that feels the same way that she does. Maybe it’s how silent you are that really draws her attention at first, but Kimiko really grows to appreciate you as a member of the team

• Probably gets a lot of joy from having a friend like you. She constantly asks to do things like have you watch movies with her or to do ‘sleepovers,’ which are really just the two of you crashing on the main room couch together

• She never got a chance at a normal childhood or friends, so you and Frenchie are the closest she gets to a peace of mind

• Not even a question about it, she’s making you learn her sign language

• Will stare at you for days on end, saying nothing but everything at the same time until you agree to learn. Once you do, it’s all over. She gets the biggest most happiest look anyone ever seen, and there’s no turning back from that

• “Kimiko, what are you doing. It’s two in the morning.” You groan at her from under the thin covers of your bed, doing your best to ignore her hands as they fly about. It’s the childish equivalent of ‘if I can’t see you, you can’t see me’

• ‘No time to sleep. We have to go over stuff before the mission tomorrow. It will help us communicate.’ She was unnerved by your lack of enthusiasm. If anything it only spurred her on more, shaking your bed and pulling at your covers as you groaned. Even with the progress you had been making with signing over the past few weeks, your knowledge was still a bit shaky, and being half asleep didn’t help, so you only caught a few words. Enough to know what she wanted, however

• “Go away, Kimiko.” You whined. The shaking stopped, and for a moment you thought your request had worked. You were more than happy to fall back into whatever dream you had been having beforehand

• Then you heard the rushing of feet and a large weight slammed onto your legs

• “Goddamnit!—“

• Frenchie found the both of you the next morning; Kimiko looking bright eyed and bushy-tailed while you were practically falling asleep from where you sat. It was a teasing point for you over the next two weeks

• Between you, there’s moments like that where, despite Kimiko’s silence and your habit to keep your thoughts to yourself, nothing ever goes unseen or unsaid. The two of you know each other like the back of your hands, and sometimes you wonder if you’d even need her sign to communicate

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬: 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲

• If the saying ‘this town is only big enough for the both of us’ could apply here, it absolutely would

• It’s almost ironic how bad Soldier Boy handles another version of himself. You’ve got just as much snark and anger as him, and it pisses him the hell off. Constantly.

• Maybe it’s because you didn’t fan boy over him as soon as he flashed a few cheesy lines that keeps his disdain for you boiling, or that you didn’t keep your distance when he threatened to eradicate your entire bloodline if you didn’t stop running your mouth at him

• “Need help with that?” He cocks a brow at you one day, watching with poorly hidden annoyance as you struggle to tie a knot in your shoes for the fifth time in a minute. The offer isn’t serious, and even if it was, he has no doubt you wouldn’t hesitate to kick him in the face if he bent down to tie your shoe for you

• “Need help taking my dick down your throat?” You parroted back at him while raising your voice in a false-happy tone. Finally you get the shoestrings to cooperate, completely missing the way Soldier Boy glows in a harsh warning at your attitude

• “Ladies, ladies, you’re both pretty.” Butcher calls from the room over, no doubt tired of the bickering between the two of you that had been nonstop for the past few days. “Let’s get a move on before one of you decides to claw the others bloody eyes out, yeah?”

• The fact that you’re not even a supe just ticks him off more. Only a few people have ever pushed his buttons like this, most of them being supes, and they always ended up being nothing but red paste in the next few minutes

• You make sure to point it out to him several times that you’re just acting like he always does, making sure to don a shit eating grin when he clenches his fist at your comment

• Please for the love of everything that’s holy tone it the fuck down. Some people may say that Soldier Boy has no self-control, but it sure is taking a whole lot of it not to kick you in the crotch as hard as possible

• “The feelings mutual.” You deadpan at him when he eventually shares that fantasy out loud. He knew full well that if you even so much as tried that, you’d end up with a broken ankle and your front pinned to the closest brick wall, but he had no doubts that you would go for it anyway

• Seriously. How has he not murdered you in your sleep yet

#the boys #the boys x reader #the boys x you #the boys x y/n #billy butcher #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher x you #hughie campbell #hughie campbell x reader #hughie campbell x you #frenchie #frenchie x reader #frenchie x you #mothers milk #mothers milk x reader #mothers milk x you #kimiko #kimiko x reader #kimiko x you #soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #x reader #headcanons

[obsessedwrhys]

Can we have a part 2 Deadpool reader with the boys and maybe soldier boy too❓❓ if you want to of course

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The Boys x Deadpool!Reader

t/w: loooots of dark humour/jokes, reader's origin will be explained underneath, reader is still an asshole lol that comes with the character, mention about killing,death,gore, weed, drugs, Reader is gn!!!

ᯓ★ here's a version with the seven, kiss kiss <3

Origin:

Quick summary, when you were born, your parents had agreed with Vought to have you be pumped full of Compound V so you could grow up and be a hero working under them, but the problem was when you were around 7, they changed their mind so Vought ended up sending several people to come to your house to settle the matter.

Your whole family was massacred in the living room during thanksgiving and when they tried to capture you. You were able to run away. Homeless and living on the street, you grew up in a life of crime, depending on nobody but yourself. Make sense? No? Good! Let's start now.

BUTCHER

To him, you were like a fly that won't leave him alone.

How he knew you was through Mallory, she thought you were okay and fit for the job since you hated Vought just as much.

Obviously he didn't like you once you were introduced to him and the two (M.M and Frenchie)

"No way am I lettin' a supe join us"

":("

Though after what happened to Mallory's grandchildren, the gang pretty much dispersed but wherever Butcher went, you followed. Since he was the only person you trusted... and also enjoy annoying the shit out of.

He'd head inside a club, relieved he hadn't seen you for the past few days so he decided to grab a drink by the bar to unwind.

"Whiskey" He said with his eyes looking around, paranoia shown on his face.

Once his drink was served, he would look back to find your eyes smiling at him, you were wearing a bartender disguise over your red suit.

"Did you miss me?"

"Oh christ..."

When you heard word that he was gathering back the team, you had to be there. What kind of friend would you be if you didn't?

Undoubtedly he had to admit, there were times where he was grateful to have you on the team but there were also other times he regretted it.

For example, that time when you guys needed to sneak into a lab to get something and the goal was to stay quiet but even that simple rule was hard for you to follow.

"Room's up ahead. (Y/N) I need you to—"

"Heads up!" You said as you threw a bomb at the metal door.

The explosion causing the alarm to turn on and it had the whole lab now on high alert. You shrug innocently when Butcher glared at you like he wanted to tear you apart.

Also, you enjoy constantly pissing him off. You can't die so you don't really care if he'll kill you for it.

"Maybe, if you didn' press the fuckin' button, we wouldn't have to come bac' to save yer ass from the guards"

"OOH GOD SAVE THE QUEEEN!! Please, cry me a fucking river. I got us the target didn't I?"

"He's dead"

"Well you weren't being specific when you said to capture him"

But it's fine, all his frustration will be solved once he uses you as bait. He knows you can't die but hey, it makes him feel slightly better watching you get shot at.

Despite your ups and downs, he appreciates you. When the team would turn against him on his insane journey for revenge, he always found you the only one still standing by his side. You're loyal and he likes that.

Compatibility? 75%

HUGHIE

You treat him like a child.

No seriously you baby talk him sometimes and it annoys him

"Awwwww is little hughie angry?"

"Stop..."

"Does baby want his milky?"

Since he's pretty much the only person who isn't that exposed to crime as the others, he's terrified 100% everytime when he's paired up to do any dirty work with you.

"Now listen buddy, you better start talking or I'm gonna shoot" You said, gun raised at the man who seemed to be begging you to spare his life in a language you didn't speak.

"I don't think he speaks English"

"Ah shit... ENGLISH!! SPEAK!! ABCDEFG??!"

"How is shouting in English gonna make him understand?"

"Eh, you're right"

BANG

"WHY'D YOU SHOOT HIM??!"

"Well did you expect me to pull out Duolingo and start taking classes?!"

You had to admit, it was a pain in the ass each time he starts giving you the cold shoulder whenever he gets mad at you for doing something terrible. It was like his way of guilt tripping you so you always try to apologise in your own ways.

"Hey..." You said, handing him ice cream.

"...I uh... I don’t like Strawberry ice cream... I thought I told you that"

"God you're so ungrateful!!"

Since he was such a scaredy cat, you try to tone down your craziness a bit. For the sake of him not going into cardiac arrest.

"(Y/N) STOP!! She has nothing to do with this!! She was tricked" Hughie grabbed you by the arm to pull your gun away from the innocent woman.

You turn your head to look at him, then at the woman, then at him again, then the woman, then him again.

"Ugh finnnne... you're boring..."

However, he does appreciate you trying to be a better person. Even you had to admit, after you met him and became friends. You noticed yourself being less brutal than you used to be. The thought keeps you awake at night and it scares the shit out of you.

But oh well, how could you ever say no to those scared little puppy eyes?

Compatibility? 55%

FRENCHIE

He's like your hype man which is concerning.

Not because you're not afraid to get the job done but also because you always have his back.

"Well... I need some gunpowder but I've run out of them" Frenchie said, telling Butcher that the plan was most likely not gonna happen.

"Hold on" You said with the typical comical ☝🏻 gesture before heading into a different room. Everyone exchanging confused glances at what you could possibly be doing.

After a few minutes you'd return with a bag of gunpowder while struggling to zip up your pants with the other hand.

"Don't tell me how I got it. It almost tore me apart" You said, rubbing your ass.

On stressful nights, you guys would enjoy smoking weed together by the sofa and share stories of your traumatic childhood. It's how you guys bond and it's oddly wholesome.

Also when he needs a shoulder to cry on, you were always there for him. You two shared a type of relationship that even Romeo and Juliet couldn't compete with. To be fair they're dead so they actually can't fight.

"Hey reader!! If you're gonna keep reading then you might as well give the post a like or a repost. C'mon, pleassssseeee pleasepleaseplease"

"Ma cerise, who are you talking to?"

Although he doesn't mind your behaviour sometimes but he won't tolerate it if you ever cross the line on something. He's like the owner who sprays water at his pet cat when they don't listen.

"What are you mad at me for?!?!"

"You damn near tried to get us killed!!"

"Hey! You're the one who said it would be a suicide mission so I made sure it was a suicide mission!!"

"WHAT?"

There's no way he can deny how curious he is about where you get your guns and things. He once went in your room to find boxes of dynamite and a RPG just placed against the wall like furniture.

Like do you have a supplier or are you your own supplier?

Compatibility? 99.9%

M.M

Everybody deserves second chances.

He always tells him that to calm himself down everytime you managed to fuck up a thoroughly planned mission.

"What did I say about pressing buttons (Y/N)?"

"Honestly I stopped paying attention after you said 'Listen here'."

M.M has to be the only person you fear to the fact you try very hard to avoid him, this is because his long ass lectures are such a pain to deal with.

"How many times do I have to remind you? You can't just go around doing shit like that. You gotta consider the amount of danger you'll put everyone in..."

"(Blah blah blah... he's still going... uggggh... make it stop...!)"

Unable to handle the lecture any longer, you ended up shooting yourself in the head.

"(Y/N)!" His tone more disappointed than concern since this wasn't the first time you did this to escape his talks.

You know that russian dollhouse he tries to build in season 2? Well you'd constantly be found standing or sitting near him when he's trying to finish the set.

Since you're aware of his OCD, you like to edge him on by sometimes rearranging the parts or stealing some of it so he ends up searching high and low for the missing parts.

You had to admit it was entertaining to watch him accuse other people for touching his stuff when it was you behind all the schemes.

I'd like to think that after every mission when you happen to die, he'd be the one in charge of collecting your remains so you'd grow back.

That's why it comes naturally that his job is to make sure you don't do anything extreme.

"Where are my bombs??!?!" You'd shout, storming around the place looking for them.

"I sold them. Thought it'd do us more good knowing you won’t accidentally blow us up"

"WHAT?! GOD! It's like the writers of the show couldn't afford another explosion for this season so they had to use this DUMB of an excuse!!"

Though he does see some good in you through the messed up parts, he once saw you give his daughter a cute teddy bear when they've been burned by Vought.

She still has the bear and M.M likes to think that maybe you have a soft spot for kids since you never had a proper childhood. That's why he chooses to understand you rather than just being ignorant about your behaviour.

Compatibility? 80%

KIMIKO

She finds you a little odd but she doesn't mind once she realises how everyone is used to you being like that.

Whenever you're bored, you'd come to see what she was up to. Just imagine you sitting on the sofa like a curious kid as you watch her write alphabets on the book.

She also tries to communicate with you since she thought maybe your fucked up mind would understand her better in a way. Like how in season 2 she was repeatedly writing 'boy' to Frenchie but he didn't understand, so she came to you.

"Woow... watching you try to talk to me is like watching a baby take it's first breath..."

"😐"

"It's beautiful..."

Turns out her theory was wrong, you had a harder time understanding her compared to the rest.

Since you're the only two people in the group with powers, most of the time you two are sent on dangerous missions together. It's a nightmare for her because everybody knows communication is key but one is mute and the other doesn't listen.

"(Be quiet! There's people in the other room!)" She'd sign to you but you were busy humming a song while throwing around the enemies equipment.

"Oooh, what's this?" You held up a Homelander figurine which made you laugh as you show it to her.

"Hey look! 'I'm Homelander, I'm God's favourite. I play golf with Jesus every Sunday."

"(Can you please take this seriously?)"

"You're right, you gotta stop messing around Kimiko! We have a target to kill here" You said and you threw the figurine away which apparently clashes into a stack of boxes that came crashing down. The sound making everyone inside the building grab their weapons and began cornering you two in the room.

"😡"

"Okay that wasn't me that was gravity"

For the boys, you were plan A and she was plan B. That's because you always end up rushing into a fight first which most of the time resulted in you getting dismembered, which she later comes in to save you.

For example when Stormfront had stopped you guys, your bright ass thought it was a good idea to charge at her even though everyone was signalling you to stop. Next thing you know you were just a head being carried by M.M, you ended up watching as Kimiko fought Stormfront with the help of Starlight and Queen Maeve.

"That's my girl!! Now can anyone lend me a hand? I think I lost mine"

Compatibility? 97%

Bonus +

SOLDIER BOY

You know the scene where he walks out of his containment with the gas surrounding him? You swore when you watched him step out butt naked, you could hear angels singing and trumpets playing inside your head.

Shockingly enough, he was the only person who appreciated your humour. Could be a generation thing. He's just relieved not everyone has gone soft over the years.

In a way, you feel like you've become his babysitter. Everytime Butcher and Hughie left to do some business, you were in charge of making sure he doesn't blow up anyone. You kept him entertained so he didn't mind. That's why on the hunt for his former team members, he immediately chose you to be by his side.

"I'll take red with me"

"Red as in the american flag or the russians?" You asked which had him do the typical boomer laugh.

"I like you, you're funny" He said with a strong pat on your shoulder.

Butcher doesn't mind you with him cause he trusts that you can keep him under control. Hughie on the other hand isn't sure if you can even keep yourself under control.

"Shhh... wait... do you hear that?"

"Ah shit, did I accidentally said my dirty thoughts out loud? It's just you look breedable in that suit"

Another thing he likes about you is that you're okay with killing pretty much anyone, just try not to overstep cause that could potentially piss him off.

"I told you he's mine" He said as he had you pinned against one of the trees, apparently you had shot Mindstorm in the head when he literally made it clear to you minutes ago that was his kill.

"Quite possessive aren't you? I can recommended a therapist I know. Her names Martha—"

"You shut your mouth before I shove my shield up your ass"

"Gasp don't you DARE threaten me with a good time!!"

At the end of Season 3, you would obviously side with Butcher when everyone started to turn against Soldier Boy. He had to admit he was kinda hurt though, he expected you to be on his side.

"So what? You're crawling back to him now? After what we've been through?"

"Sorry big daddy, but Butcher has been my day one and I also happen to love him veryvery much"

Cue Butcher rolling his eyes out of disgust.

Compatibility? 100% but after the betrayal? 0% 😔

#MOM CUT THE WIFI #THIS TOOK TOO LONG TO FINISH #x reader #the boys #the boys x you #the boys x reader #the boys x y/n #the boys billy butcher #the boys butcher #the boys hughie #the boys mothers milk #the boys mm #the boys frenchie #the boys kimiko #the boys soldier boy #butcher x reader #hughie x reader #frenchie x reader #mm x reader #mothers milk x reader #kimiko x reader #soldier boy x reader #billy butcher #hughie campbell #frenchie #mothers milk #kimiko the boys #kimiko #soldier boy #the boys amazon

[zepskies]

Break Me Down - Part 2

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

AN: Surprise Sunday update! I was able to put the finishing touches on Part 2 a bit early. 😉

Song used in this chapter is “If I Didn’t Care” by The Ink Spots (but more like Amy Adams' version). Song inspiration for this chapter (and the song title) is “All My Livin Time” by Radio Company (Jensen’s band with Steve Carlson).

Word Count: 4,500 Warnings: 18+ only! Willful seduction, kidnapping, SB being himself lol.

Part 2: You Move Me, Baby

This next mission was going to be a bit more…hands on. 

It was a gentlemen’s club, styled like a 1920s speakeasy, of all things. If nothing else, Soldier Boy was predictable.

Through a crack in the dressing room door, you didn’t see any gentlemen here. You saw a bunch of skeevy bastards. 

For the record, you didn’t like this plan. But as Butcher once again pointed out, Soldier Boy’s less likely to fuckin’ recognize you than any of us. 

And you certainly couldn’t (wouldn’t) imagine Butcher in rhinestone nipple tassels. 

Right now, you were waiting to be assigned an outfit. Hopefully, you could just blend into the background of whatever performance act the stage manager wanted to slip you into. And you really hoped you wouldn’t have to striptease on stage.

In the meantime, you sat on a stool in a black lace bra, matching panties, and sheer pantyhose, while Annie was helping you with your stage makeup. Years as a pageant child had taught her well. You felt like Sandra Bullock in Miss Congeniality, fending off getting hairspray up her ass. 

Sure, you had gone undercover several times, but this was slightly out of your wheelhouse. You bit your lip, forgetting that you were already wearing several coats of scarlet red lipstick. 

Annie slapped your hand. “Stop it. You’re smudging my paint job.”

You had Butcher and M.M. to thank for arranging this little detail. 

May they both rot in hell, you silently simmered. 

“Oh, stop pouting. You look great,” Annie said. You caught the little smirk she was trying to taper down. 

Then the manager’s head popped into the dressing room. When he verified that all the young women had at least their underwear on, he stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

“All right, listen up,” he said in Spanish. You understood just enough to follow what he was saying. “Angelica got food poisoning.”

You grimaced. Angelica was the main act. She had a whole burlesque-style routine with the rest of the women—for which you were meant to step in for one of the girls in the ensemble. Hopefully in the back. 

“Daniela, you’re filling in,” said the manager, pointing to a busty brunette. 

“What about the second act?” asked another girl. If you remembered right, her name was Raquel. “Dani can’t sing like Angelica to save her fucking life.”

“Excuse me, bitch. I sing better than you,” Daniela snapped back.

The manager rolled his eyes and clapped his hands harshly to end the bickering. 

“Okay. Which one of you bitches can actually sing?” he asked, first in Spanish, then in English, you noticed as he glanced at you.

Annie looked at you with raised brows. You glared back at her. 

Damn you for telling her about your childhood church choir days. You were sure your religious mother never thought you’d be using those talents like this.  

“No,” you said firmly. Annie just smiled and waved the manager over.

That was how the two of them ended up all but pushing you on stage—after Annie had wrangled you into a shimmering red gown over your underwear and pantyhose. It was overlayed with delicate beading in intricate patterns. And it was easily the most beautiful thing you’d ever had on your body.

However, you did take issue with how long the slit was, running all the way up to your hip bone.

Not really ‘20s style, now is it? you thought sourly.

Annie just slapped your ass and guided you forward.

You shot back one last look at her—one that swore you’d have your revenge.

Then the curtain slid open. 

Fuck me, you thought nervously. This was really happening!

The lights blinded you for a moment, and you blinked the glare out of your eyes. They soon adjusted as you forced yourself to move towards the microphone at the right-hand side of the stage, close to the live band. The pianist shot you a smile and a wink as he started to play in dulcet tones.

Steeling yourself, you grabbed the microphone with a slight tremor in your hands. You stared out into the crowd as the rest of the band joined in, slow and jazzy. 

You’d informed the manager that you really only knew one song by heart.

“Eh, that is too slow,” he’d replied to you in English.

“It’s that, or Dani belts out in her best soprano,” you informed him. He sighed and waved a resigned hand. 

“Get her the red one,” he told Raquel. She then handed you the dress on a hanger. 

Now, you held the microphone between both hands and started the song your grandmother used to sing to you when you were a kid.

“If I didn’t care, more than words can say,” you began. “If I didn’t care, would I feel this way?”

You took in an unsteady breath. With each note, your voice was getting stronger, more confident. 

“If this isn’t love, then why do I thrill? And what makes my head go round and round, while my heart…stands…still…”

As you eased into the rest of the song, you remembered your mission. 

You scanned the dark room, rows of men of all ages, women serving drinks and food and their own bodies. You weren’t finding your target.

But this intel was good. The source was the girl you’d replaced in the show, and M.M. had already worked out her safe exit out of the city for a while. 

There. You finally saw it. 

Or rather, you saw him.

Towards the back, Soldier Boy sat at a large exclusive booth. He had a long joint propped between his fingers, and a working woman from the club already propositioning to service him. Her manicured hand eased down his chest. 

He also seemed to have hired men sitting at a table nearby. 

Your voice nearly hitched at the sight of him, but you forced yourself to take a calming breath during a musical interlude. 

You knew Annie and the rest of the team were here in the club somewhere, to back you up. But Soldier Boy knew Butcher and his team were onto him. the bastard would recognize them. You were the distraction here.

And if he went away with that escort, he could easily disappear upstairs and hop out the window again, gone like a coil of weed smoke.

Somehow, you needed to keep his ass in his seat.

So your voice came back in strong for the final verse.

“If I didn’t care, would it be the same? Would my every prayer begin and end…with just your name?” 

You watched Soldier Boy’s gaze drift toward the stage. Your lips curved as you held his eyes for a moment…but then, you coyly slid your gaze away. 

Okay, what’s going to grab his attention…

You shifted on the stage, letting the curve of your hip and ass sway to one side. You raised your other foot on the tips of your toes. And the slit running up your leg slid open, revealing your tall silver heels and a smooth leg, all the way up to the inside of your thigh.  

Unfortunately, you hadn’t been able to fit your gun holster this time.

“And would I be sure that this is love beyond compare…” Your voice rang out on the high note; at that climactic point, the music reached a crescendo.

You turned your head and looked directly into Soldier Boy’s eyes, and his mouth slid into a grin. 

He was watching you. 

Good.

“Would all this be true,” you sang, “if I didn’t care for you…”

As the final notes reverberated from the piano, applause and male whoops erupted from the crowd. 

You slowly released the microphone, breaking off eye contact with your target. 

Then you turned around, trying to hide the nervous tremor in your legs. You pressed a discreet hand to the communicator in your ear after the curtain fell behind you, and you told the team. 

“He’s here.” 

Annie was no longer backstage. 

“Good job, crooner,” M.M. said on the comm. 

“Watch him ‘til he’s ready to leave,” Butcher said to everyone.

You agreed and dodged the manager so you could slip to the back room within the dressing room. 

You were about to change into your real clothes (and grab your gun), when you were stopped by a Latino man. Though he clearly wasn’t a local or a tourist. He looked ex-military, complete with a crew cut and dark beard. 

“Soldier Boy would like to meet you,” he said in lightly accented English. You affected some doe-eyed shock, even though some of your surprise was genuine. 

You’d just wanted to keep him watching the show. You hadn’t expected him to take the bait this much. 

“Oh, wow…where? Now?” you asked.

“Now,” he confirmed. “Upstairs.”

He couldn’t even pick me up himself? Lazy, you wanted to tsk.

You spied the stage manager over by the doorway. He gave you a stern nod that told you that you had no choice but to accept. 

Not that you ever intended to decline. Though of fucking course the manager had known Soldier Boy was here. He was probably a damn regular. 

You gave Soldier Boy’s man a charming smile. “Lead the way.”

This wasn’t the plan, exactly. You decided it was even better though. Just infinitely more dangerous. 

Even though you had years of training, honing your body and your mind in a fight, you weren’t a supe. You were, in fact, exceedingly breakable.

“Are you crazy, cherie?” Frenchie said on the comm. 

You also thought you heard M.M. mutter an, “Aw shit.”

“She don’t got a choice now,” Butcher said. “But it’s a good play to get him alone. Slip her one of them hockey pucks.”

You heard M.M., Annie, Butcher, and Frenchie’s continued twittering back and forth about the change of plan. Meanwhile, you were being escorted upstairs.

Kimiko managed to maneuver into your path from the opposite direction, and she slipped a small disk into your hand as she passed you. 

You gave her a grateful wink and discreetly placed the device into your bra while your escort wasn’t looking. 

It wasn’t a dose of Novichok, but it was something that might keep Soldier Boy occupied for a moment. You intended to use it if he got too fucking handsy.

You were let into a room on the third floor. With the lavish way it was furnished, complete with a king-sized bed, it almost looked like a hotel room. 

Yeah, Hotel California, you thought wryly, as the door shut behind you. 

Soldier Boy sat at a table by the far wall, gazing out the window with yet another joint (or perhaps the same one?) and a generous pour of whiskey in his hand. 

Even you could admit, he cut an attractive figure. He was dressed in light brown slacks, a matching suit jacket and a white dress shirt with the top buttons left open. A simple ensemble, but well-tailored and suited to the golden tan he’d developed here in South America. His beard was neatly trimmed, his short hair styled back in its familiar sweep on both sides. 

Even seated, his posture was casual, yet controlled as his head turned to meet your gaze. A smile started to curve his lips. 

Show time, you told yourself. 

“You’re new,” he said. You tilted your head, a bit of flirtation in your smile.

“What makes you say that?” you asked.

He gave you an oh please look. With the hand that held his whiskey, he gestured with a curling finger. 

“Come ‘ere. Don’t be shy,” he said. It was an order rather than a request, but you hid your instinctive annoyance.

You subtly took in a steadying breath. And you moved farther into the room. You didn’t stop until you were sitting opposite him at the window, crossing your legs beneath the table. 

You could tell he’d expected you to take a seat in his lap, but to a degree, you didn’t want to do what he expected. He was likely paying the club well for this time. You didn’t want to make it easy.

You wanted him to be enticed. Invested in this moment. 

And distracted, for as long as he let you. 

You watched him glance down with interest at your bare leg peeking out. At your strappy silver heel shining along with your dress in the soft lamplight, which casted shadows across his profile. 

“Want a drink?” he asked. 

You were surprised he was offering you anything. You’d half-expected him to order you onto your knees already. Upon which, he would’ve received the gift currently residing in your bra a bit early. 

You didn't want to take any drink you hadn't poured yourself, but you also needed to keep this act going...

"I'm not gonna fucking drug you," he said, reading the look in your eyes. "What would be the fucking point of that?"

Hmph. smart-ass motherfucker, you thought. But you didn't detect a lie.

You quirked your head and took the proffered sip from his glass. You wanted to play it cool, but maybe you also needed a little liquid courage. 

“All right, easy on the booze. Get his guard down,” Butcher said in your ear. You resisted the urge to frown.

Could Butcher see you somehow too? Or was he just hearing the ice clinking in the glass as you gulped it down. 

“Did you enjoy my performance?” you asked Soldier Boy.

“Still am, doll face,” he said with a smirk. You raised a brow. 

“I’m not that new,” you replied, biting indelicately on a dark cherry. Your heeled foot slowly slid against the inside of his thigh. 

It was his turn to raise brow. His head tilted with his smirk. 

You didn’t know if he was more amused than turned on, but his gaze roamed openly over your legs, the cleavage on display, your dark red lips. 

“Are you enjoying your stay in Medellin?” you asked, trying to keep the conversation going. 

“Oh, yeah. I’m having a fuckin’ ball,” he said wryly. He dabbed some ash off his blunt with a finger. 

There was something off there, and you didn’t miss it.

“You sound bored,” you said. Soldier Boy considered you with a lustful, challenging gaze. 

“Maybe. You gonna help me with that, sweetheart?”

A flutter of nerves churned in your belly, but you used it, letting the feeling prickle awareness across your skin. 

“Depends,” you said coyly. 

Both his brows rose this time, as if he was surprised you were actually pretending to resist him. 

“On?”

You subtly leaned forward when you gave him back his glass, allowing him to spy a bit more down your dress. You stared into his deep green eyes, and tried not to get lost yourself. He was an attractive man, but he was also your target. A job you intended to finish. 

A smile played at your lips.

“On what excites you,” you replied. 

By the way his eyes darkened, his smile curving, you thought he liked that answer. 

Then his hand extended toward you, a silent command in his gaze. Steeling yourself, you tried your best to be graceful and sensuous when you took his hand. He playfully jerked you forward, making you fall into his lap. 

You waved some dank weed smoke out of your face as you looked down at his amused one. 

He was nearly down to the roach on his joint. Meanwhile, his free heavy hand slid up your bare leg, disappearing beneath your dress and making goosebumps spread across your skin. Your breath hitched, though you disguised it with a smile. 

“You afraid of me, sweetheart?” he cooed. 

Yes, if you were honest with yourself. 

There was a false sense of security in his deep voice. You looked down into his eyes, very green and intensely focused on you, despite his air of nonchalance. 

“Not really,” you replied. “Only that you might get ash on my dress.”

He chuckled, smoke blowing out his nose. He put out the joint in the ashtray and took another sip of his whiskey, likely to drown out the cotton taste in his mouth. You laid a hand on his chest, fingers spreading between the open buttons, and felt his warm skin. 

He glanced up at you with another challenging tilt to his head. What are you gonna do now?

You met that challenge, boldly leaning down to press a kiss against his lips. You held his face, delving your fingers into his soft hair. 

Soldier Boy grabbed your hips with a bruising force. It made you wince, instinctively biting into his lower lip. He uttered a pleased sound, guttural in this throat. You braced yourself against the wall behind him for leverage as his chair started to tip back. 

Before either of you could fall, he lifted you effortlessly by the waist and pivoted, pinning you against that wall. Your legs wrapped around his waist as his tongue invaded your mouth, devouring you with hot and heavy hands holding you in place.

His fingers pressed into the flesh of your thighs, and you knew you couldn’t easily escape if you needed to.

This is getting out of hand… 

He was busy kissing a wet and sloppy line down your neck, his beard scraping against your skin. It actually felt so fucking good to be touched. You hadn’t experienced it in so long, it almost startled you when your heated core pulsed with the friction you were feeling against the hardness in his slacks. 

You would never admit it, but it wasn’t an act when you moaned into his ear. Fuck…

But when his hand again slipped under your dress and crept up your inner thigh, alarm bells triggered in your mind as panic started to set in. You panted for breath. 

With him seemingly distracted, you reached down into your bra and grabbed the metal disk. 

You gasped as Soldier Boy grabbed your wrist, tight as a vice. He looked down at you with a sly grin. 

“You were fuckable in black, but red’s my favorite so far,” he said. 

Your eyes widened. When the hell did he see me in black?

And then you remembered. You’d worn a black dress at the last club, where you got groped on the dance floor and found Soldier Boy’s latest note…

Had he hung around after all, watching you and the team pick up his clues?

And you realized, he knew exactly who you were. 

Soldier Boy glanced down at your lips, then at the tops of your breasts heaving as you caught your breath. His eyes shone with mischief and lust. 

“It’s a real shame. You’re probably a good fuck too,” he remarked. It sparked your irate disgust like a wildfire.

Then you smirked. “You can fuck this.” 

You activated the disk in your hand and flicked it at him. He instinctively grabbed at his face, releasing you. The device attached to his cheek and electrified enough volts through his body to drop an elephant. 

Maybe five. The CIA weapons specialist hadn’t been too sure.

And a star bolt shot Soldier Boy in the chest, shoving him away before he could grab at you. 

You jumped back and continued to put several feet of distance between you and Soldier Boy, while Annie and the rest of your team poured into the room. They were poised for a fight, once Soldier Boy ripped the device off his face with a grunt. It probably hadn’t hurt him much, but he looked pissed now. 

He rolled the kinks out of his neck and surveyed the room with a slow gait. He spared you a fleeting glance. You were now at the safety of Kimiko’s side, and Frenchie handed you a gun. 

“Ah, the Scooby Gang,” Soldier Boy remarked. He nodded at Butcher. “This is how you repay me for taking care of Homelander? My own son.”

“He weren’t your fucking son,” Butcher replied. “I’d reckon you know that best of all.”

Soldier Boy’s lips twitched. Whether at a smile or a frown, you couldn’t tell. 

“You found me, remember? So what, you got buyer’s remorse?” he said.

“See, the problem is, supes like you are what we call,” said Butcher, “a menace to fucking society.” 

Soldier Boy’s lips pulled down into a frown. He looked a cross between annoyed and impatient. 

“I fought for my country. I saved lives—”

“You took just as many as you might’ve saved,” M.M. interrupted. “And not just that building you burnt the fuck up last year.” 

Soldier Boy hesitated at that. “You really wanna do this?” 

You all really want to die? his eyes said. He got determined silence from all of you. He rolled his shoulders and adjusted his blazer. 

“All right,” he shrugged. 

Then all hell broke loose. You ducked for cover as Soldier Boy deflected the giant flare gun M.M. shot at him. With his bare hand. 

Hired security then poured into the room—you assumed hired by Soldier Boy. And you protected Hughie from getting his neck snapped by shooting a man between the eyes.

You and M.M. continued to fight them off. Meanwhile, Kimiko and Annie tried to give Butcher and Frenchie a chance to get close with the Novichok gas on Soldier Boy. 

You took care of three more men before you heard a low buzzing sound. You turned around, and a gasp fell from your lips when you saw Soldier Boy’s chest lighting up. 

You knew what came next. 

And so did Annie. She poured her all into her next star bolt—which managed to shove Soldier Boy through the window. She and Kimiko flew or otherwise ran out the window to follow him. While Butcher, Frenchie, and M.M. helped you fight off the last of the hired guns. 

Finally, you covered Hughie as the five of you left the normal, human way, and ran down the stairs to exit the club. By the time you were able to join Annie and Kimiko, however, Soldier Boy had disappeared.

You glared down the dark, busy streets of Medellin. 

Damn it!

You returned to the hotel disappointed and angry beyond fucking belief. Mostly at yourself.

After all the work you did, having to seduce and make out with that bastard, only to discover he’d made you long before you took the stage at the club.

Fucking hell, you thought angrily as you kicked at your suitcase. It sent your clothes tumbling across the dirty carpet, but right now you didn’t give a fuck. Damn cocky bastard. 

In the bathroom, you kicked off your heels in relief. You looked yourself over in the mirror and found various cuts and bruises from the fight. Your softly curled hair was a shambles, along with your makeup. 

Parts of your dress were torn, along with your pantyhose. Which was probably Soldier Boy’s doing, if you thought about it. You sighed. 

You were about to start undressing, but then you heard something. A small sound, like a thump. 

Your gun was on the table in the main room. Frowning in suspicion, you left the bathroom cautiously. Before your hand could close around your gun, a gloved hand grabbed your wrist. 

You aimed a punch with your free one and caught a man directly in the jaw. He reeled back, but was quick to recover and try to grab you again. 

While the guy was strong, you could feel that he wasn’t a supe. A human, you could deal with. He wore a mask over his face, but you could see he had shoulder-length brown hair. He was tall and lean, and one of his boots was strangely larger than the other.

You didn’t have time to focus on it. You redirected his following blow and used his strength against him, flipping him over your shoulder. Unfortunately, he landed on the table that held your poor laptop. 

“Aw, shit,” you snapped with a grimace. You searched for your gun in the wreckage. 

While you were somewhat distracted, he aimed a kick that caught you in the face, sending you onto your back with a pained cry. You quickly rolled over and got to your feet, just as your attacker threw out fist after fist.

You dodged and shoved away most of them, until he grabbed your arm and managed to crack his elbow into your temple.

You went down and hit your head hard against the bedframe.

And it was lights out.

You slowly, painfully woke up in a moving car. 

You were suffering the cottony taste of a gag in your mouth and a musty bag over your head. Your wrists were tied in front of you, and it felt like you were shoved into the backseat. The car was quiet, save for the radio playing Latin pop on low volume. 

You never would’ve thought Shakira would be the background track of your kidnapping, but here you were. 

The car eventually stopped and you were dragged out, forced onto your feet on a cobblestone driveway. Then into a house. 

…Well, this fucking sucks.

The thought rattled through your mind as you were led down a hallway, across a cold expanse of tile floor. You couldn’t see where you were going with this stuffy bag over your head, but you knew it was tile. Your bare feet all but scraped across it as they dragged you. 

Whoever held your arms in a vice grip eventually forced you to sit in a rickety wooden chair. They pulled your wrists behind the chair and bound them together with a zip tie. 

You felt the slit on your dress sliding open, so you crossed your legs, for whatever good that would do you. At the very least, it would give the impression that you were sitting here casually, and not (figuratively) shitting yourself with fear.  

“What the hell is this?” a deep, familiar voice asked.

“A gift.” You knew this voice as well. Neither one instilled you with calm.

Then the bag finally came off your head. The gag did not, however. You knew your red dress was in unfortunate tatters. You knew you were bruised and scratched, and overall worse for wear.

But when your gaze found your kidnapper, you glared up at him with a stubborn tilt to your chin. Antonio, Señor Groping Bastard from the club, was smirking back at you. 

What the fuck.

Then you noticed him.

Soldier Boy stared back at you with raised brows, and instant recognition in his eyes. His lips curved into a smirk.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

AN: 😬 So we finally made it to the prologue opener! Was it everything you thought it would be? How did you like her attempt at "undercover?" 🤭

And are you ready for what's coming next?

To keep reading: Part 3

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @pallographsunspot @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @syrma-sensei @muhahaha303 @123passwort @xoxovienna @magnificentnightmarehadi @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @yvonneeeee @fckinel @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022 @waters-2567 @emily-winchester

#you move me baby #soldier boy #the boys #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #the boys season 3 #soldier boy/ben x reader #the boys au #enemies to lovers #frenemies to lovers #private investigator!reader #smuttish #billy butcher #hughie campbell #annie january #mother's milk #frenchie #kimiko #the boys amazon #break me down #part 2 #zepskies writes

[eclecticqueennerd]

Bad Idea Right?

*inspired by the song ‘Bad Idea Right?’ by Olivia Rodrigo.

*Language, smut, violence, breakup, alcohol consumption* Billy Butcher x reader

It’s been a few months since you left the boys. The direction Butcher was leading the group was a surefire plan to get you all killed and you wanted nothing to do with it. Convincing Butcher to take a moment to mull plans over instead of going in guns blazing was a tall order, one that ultimately made you decide that a relationship with him was not worth your life. You tried to convince the rest of the gang to leave but all that got you was a bunch of noes and a broken heart. Butcher, even with all his asshole ways, held your heart in his hand and it hurt to walk away from him. At least you have Annie keeping you company.

-Wyd 2nite?

Tearing your eyes away from the TV as you lounged on the dingy bed of your motel room Grace Mallory stashed you in, you typed out your response to Annie.

-nm, u?

-wanna meet up w Kimiko n go out?

-yass!

You and Annie meet up with Kimiko just outside of a nightclub. After you gather and exchange hugs, you go in and begin drinking and dancing to the heavy bass playing on the stereo. Multicolored lights flash all around you as you allow yourself to succumb to the party atmosphere. After the song ends, the three of you spot a booth off in the corner of the club and make your way there, stopping at the bar to refill your drinks. The three of you catch up. Annie was still in Vought Tower, Kimiko still working with Frenchie and The Boys. Kimiko gives a recount of how everyone else was doing in the group, including Butcher.

‘He really misses you.’ Kimiko signs. ‘We all really miss you. You should come back.’ You shake your head.

“No, I think it’s better for me to stay away. Butchers gonna get someone killed.” You could feel vibration coming from your phone in the pocket of your dress. Lifting it in front of your blurry eyes you blink a few times to clear them. You try to make out the name but it’s an unknown number, you declined the call.

“Besides, he probably hates me now.” Vibration came from your phone again. *Decline* Another call from the unknown number.

“He doesn’t hate you, y/n. I don’t think-” Annie begins to say but then you interject,

“I’m sorry, I gotta take this. This asshole keeps calling me.” Walking out of the club, you answer the call and before you can talk, you hear a gruff voice on the other line,

“Y/n?” You’d recognize that voice from anywhere. The last time you heard him speak was four months ago when you told him you were breaking up with him.

“Y/n, you there?”

“Butcher?”

“I need your help.”

“What happened?”

“I’m hurting real bad. I need you to come help me.”

“If you’re really that hurt-”

“Y/n, please.” You hear the desperation in his voice. He never begs for anything; he must be down bad. You let out an exasperated sigh and then *click*.

“Butcher? Billy?” You look at the phone screen and see that the call has ended. *ping* An address pops up on your phone. You sigh again. Tapping the edge of your phone on your forehead in frustration, you make your decision. You meet up with Annie and Kimiko and tell them that you’ll catch up with them later, you’ve got something you have to deal with. Rather, someone. But you didn’t dare tell them that.

Hailing a cab and telling the driver the address, you kept thinking this was not a good idea. From what you heard from the gang; Butcher did not take the breakup well. He broke things, drank more, and pushed everyone to their breaking point. MM had to leave the group to regain his sanity, only to return shortly after leaving. Kimiko recounted that Butcher was better when you were around. So why the hell was he calling you if you caused him so much pain? Watching the progression of your map marker reach its destination on Google Maps, your heart began to beat harder in your chest. The car stopped outside of a tall brick building. Tipping the cab driver you made your way in, texting Butcher and asking which level and unit he was in.

Trekking up the steps, heart pounding in your chest, the blurriness in your eyes from the booze now cleared, you made your way to his door. *knock, knock, knock* The door swung open, and across the threshold was Billy Butcher. Still the same handsome man you turned to putty for not too long ago. He stood before you shirtless, clad in green sweatpants. Your mouth went dry, and the screaming thoughts in your brain telling you to march right back down those steps ceased. The two of you just stood there, staring at each other.

“You uhh… gonna let me in or what?” Butcher blinks and then makes an opening for you to slip through. Hearing the soft click of the door shut behind you, you take in the emptiness of his studio apartment. The only furniture in the room was a pull-out bed with tangled sheets, coffee table covered in empty alcohol bottles and a box TV on a beat-up nightstand. You feel guilty for a moment as when the two of you were together, the apartment you lived in never got to this state.

“You said you were hurt?” You said as you turned around to face Butcher. He just stands there, holding a sweating beer bottle in his hand, eyes scanning you up and down. His eyes settle on your cleavage. You snap your fingers to get his attention. It works.

“What did you need help with?” Butcher explains that he needed to be patched up on his back. Turning him around you see that it’s scratches with some gravel lodged in the deeper lacerations. Most of the wounds were superficial, and none of them needed sutures.

“Jesus what did you do tonight, Butcher?”

“Got in a tussle. You gon help me or not?”

“Yeah, turn around.” As you begin cleaning the wounds on Butcher's back, your thoughts then return telling you that you should not be here and you should have gotten MM to clean his back up. After using a tweezer to pull out the small bits of gravel from his back, you grabbed a paper towel and doused it with hydrogen peroxide.

“This is gonna sting.” Before you got a reply out of him, Butcher hissed at the light dabbing you placed on his wounds with the paper towel. As he hissed, you saw the muscles in Butcher's back tense, reminding you of the times he had you on your back and was fucking up into you, head cradled in the crook of your neck, giving you a perfect view of his shoulders and back. You shake your head.

“Okay all done. Be more careful next time.” Throwing the used items in the trash bag and make your way to the bathroom to wash your hands in the bathroom sink. Splashing cold water on your face, makeup be damned, attempting to slow down the growing desire in your core. Walking out of the bathroom, you spot a Hawaiian shirt on the floor, torn and bloody. You look down to inspect it.

“Aw man, this was the shirt I gave you for your birthday. It’s fucked.” You see Butcher pouring two glasses of amber-colored liquor, and he offers you a glass.

“My favorite shirt.” He replies. You shake your head to decline the drink, but Butcher, being who he is, insists. Yanking the glass out of his hand and downing the amber liquid in one gulp, you set the glass down on the counter. You give him a brief goodbye and walk toward the door. Butcher grabs your wrist; you turn and see a silent plea in his eyes. Your brain screaming at you to fly down those steps and out of the building, your heart telling you to be in his arms again. He’s not good for you, he’ll get you killed.

Fuck it, it's fine. You pull Butcher down into a feverish kiss. His mouth met yours with as much passion. You both shuffle to the edge of the pull-out bed, and you push Butcher backward. He falls back easily, letting you take the lead. You go to remove your dress when Butcher places his hands on yours and assists you in pulling it over your head. Once the garment was removed, you straddle Butcher and continue kissing him with the same fiery passion as before, his hands roaming all over your exposed form. You sit up and rock your hips against his, generating some friction for your needy core. Locking eyes with him, you see that Butcher's hazel iris is now covered by his pupils, eyes entirely covered in black. After a few more hip gyrations, Butcher pulls you back down to kiss you. He poured everything into the kiss, tongues, and teeth clashing. You pull away from Butcher and help him lower his sweatpants. Once free, you grab ahold of his throbbing cock and pump it a few times then line it up to your core, rubbing the tip along your slit. Butcher moans. As you sank down on him, you feel your cunt stretch to take all of him in. Once at full hilt, you take a moment to pause to get used to feeling him inside you again. Butcher sat up and rubbed your cheek with his thumb, wiping a few tears you didn’t realize were falling.

“I’ve missed you luv.” Butcher said as he stared into your eyes. It was as if he was looking into your soul, searching for something. You leaned forward and gave him a soft kiss on his lips as you began moving yourself on his cock. Butcher groaned, wrapping one hand around the back of your head and wrapped the other around your waist. The two of you moved in sync, you grind your hips to meet his light thrusts, gasps and moans filling the apartment. You feel the coil in your belly begin to tighten, Butcher felt it too. He then flips the two of you over to where you’re lying on your back and he’s positioned above you, grabbing your legs to wrap around his waist. He buried his head in the crook of your neck as he began to quicken his pace.

“Billy, don’t’ stop… I’m close.” You pant. Butcher takes his right hand and begins to rub circles around your clit, which pushed you over the edge. Butcher follows shortly after, spilling his cum into you with a roar. The two of you lay on the bed, fighting to catch your breath. After a few moments, you get up from the bed to get dressed. Looking for your dress under the bed, Butcher reaches his hand out and gently places it on top of yours. You look up at him and he says,

“Stay with me.” The internal struggle was real at this moment. Your brain tells you to leave, that this man was no good, but you loved Butcher. In the end, your heart won the battle, and you climbed in next to Butcher, snuggling up next to his side. Butcher whispered sweet nothings into your ear, promising you all the things that he said he would do from now on, and that he loved you. Silence fell between you. Just before Butcher fell asleep, you said,

“You know, Annie was proud of me for getting out. She’s gonna be pissed to hear that we’re back together.” Butcher turns his head to look at you.

“What’re you gonna tell her?”

“Oh, I dunno… maybe that I tripped and fell into your bed.” the two of you chuckle before falling into a restful sleep.

#the boys #billy butcher #the boys amazon #karl urban #billy butcher x reader #mothers milk #kimiko the boys #the boys series #william butcher #annie january #billy butcher fanfic #billy butcher x you #billy butcher imagine #billy butcher x y/n #Youtube

[hi-whore123]

“We're gonna have to work at this every day, but I want to do that because I want you. I want all of you, for ever, you and me, every day”

#the boys x you #the boys series #the boys x y/n #the boys amazon #the boys #the boys x reader #frenchie #mother’s milk #marvin milk #kimiko miyashiro #annie january #billy butcher #billy butcher x reader #hughie campbell #hughie campbell x reader #homelander #homelander x reader #soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #Spotify #jonathan byers x reader #bob floyd x reader #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #bruce banner x reader #johnny cade x reader #the outsiders x reader #ted logan x reader #sonny carisi x reader #regina george x reader #ransom drysdale x reader

[ichorai]

live like animals ; kimiko miyashiro.

track five of BROKEN MACHINE.

pairing ; kimiko miyashiro x gn!reader, frenchie x gn!reader

synopsis ; you and frenchie try to show kimiko how to have fun on a day off.

words ; 1.0k

themes ; fluff, mild comedy

warnings / includes ; mentions of fire/bombs, frenchie and reader get in a heated debate on stacking cards in uno, basically just domestic fluff

main masterlist.

“This is Monopoly,” you told Kimiko, gesturing out to the board game in front of you. You handed her a couple wads of money. “That’s yours. You can use it to buy land and houses. See, if you land on these particular squares, you have to draw a card and do what the card tells you.”

Appearing puzzled, Kimiko moved her game piece to the question mark and picked up a card without rolling. Frenchie winced, placing down his own fake Monopoly money.

“Eh, perhaps we can play something else—something that involves a bit less explaining, maybe?”

Relenting, you moved on to the next game, pulling out a deck of cards—Uno.

“Okay, okay, for this game, you just gotta put down cards that have the same color as each other, or it could be the same number,” you explained patiently, smiling at Kimiko as you handed her a few colorful cards to start out with. Forgetting to explain to keep your cards close to your chest, Kimiko splayed out her cards with a smile, pointing out that all of hers were blue, save for a single red one.

“Ah, mon coeur, don’t show us!” exclaimed Frenchie, dramatically flying his forearm up to cover his eyes.

Kimiko, worried she’d done something wrong, gathered her cards back in her hands and furrowed her brows. 

“We’re not supposed to know what the other players have in their hands,” you told her, not unkindly, “it keeps the game fair and more interesting.”

After you dealt out a fresh set of cards, on the three of you played, glad that you’d finally found a game Kimiko could enjoy—until you placed down two sevens: one green, and one yellow.

“No,” stressed Frenchie, thick brows pinching together. “You’re not supposed to stack!”

“What do you mean, everyone stacks!”

“It’s practically cheating!”

“It’s not cheating! And how ironic, the man who builds bombs for a living is raggin’ on me for ‘cheating’ Uno!”

Crimson-faced, Frenchie shot back, “It defeats the entire purpose of the game! You either place the same color in one go, or you put the same number, you cannot place down two cards of the same number but different color—it makes no sense!”

The two of you burst into a heated argument between who was right, Kimiko glancing back and forth between the two of you with a baffled expression. After almost five whole minutes of bickering, cards were hastily shoved back into the deck. 

“Fine. We’ll play another game,” you huffed, glaring at Frenchie and childishly sticking your tongue out at him. “Sorry, ‘Miko. He’s just being a sourpuss.”

“At least I don’t have to cheat to win the game,” hissed the man, accent thickening with his frustration.

You rolled your eyes, ignoring him.

“Here—why don’t we play Twister?”

Twister was also a disaster. Kimiko had nearly snapped Frenchie’s leg in half when she toppled on top of him, and Frenchie had accidentally kicked you in the face while he was twisting around to put his left leg on a red circle. All in all—it wasn’t the most pleasant of experiences.

“Alright… I guess playing games is a bust. You have anything else you wanna do, Kimiko?”

The woman’s expression lit up, and she tugged on Frenchie’s sleeve, miming cracking an egg open and frying it on a pan.

“You wanna cook?” he asked, grinning. “Sure—I’ve been meaning to teach you, anyways.”

The three of you filed into the dingy little kitchen, where Frenchie began pulling out ingredients. “We can make french toast. It is not actually French, but it will do for now.”

You were tasked with whipping the eggs while Frenchie showed Kimiko how to properly cut up the strawberries. It was all going smoothly—until the frying bit.

Somehow, Kimiko had ended up burning the toast with a pan that was far too hot. The two of you winced, telling her to try again. The second time, a small spark of fire somehow kindled aflame when Kimiko accidentally spilled some oil onto the stove. Hurriedly, you ran out of the kitchen to grab the fire extinguisher, yanking the pin out and spraying the white foam all over the fire, ruining the remains of the french toast beyond salvation.

Frenchie wiped some of the extinguisher’s foam from his brow.

“Well,” he said, huffing out a sigh. “Anything else you wanna do?”

The three of you settled on watching a movie. It was an old sixties film that you couldn’t recall the name of, but it had Audrey Hepburn and the characters were singing a song about being a ‘prim and proper’ woman, which seemed to completely enrapture Kimiko’s attention.

“You okay?” Frenchie quietly asked you when he noticed that you weren’t paying much attention to the movie.

Instead, you had your gaze trained on Kimiko—on her sweet smile, on her indented dimples, on the way the corners of her eyes wrinkled as she laughed. 

“Yeah,” you distantly replied. “I’m just glad we got to spend the day together.”

Kimiko turned to you with a wide, toothy grin. She began signing, and you looked to Frenchie for the translation. 

The man had his own warm beam pulling his lips thin. “She says thank you for being so patient with her.”

You reached over to gently take Kimiko’s hand in yours. “It’s my pleasure, Kimiko, really. It’s not often we get days off—what with Butcher sending us on missions every other minute and Vought looking out for us like hawks. It’s nice to just relax for once.”

“Cheers to that,” said Frenchie, sipping on a bottle of beer he had procured out of seemingly nowhere. 

The three of you fell into a comfortable once more, fixing your attention back to the movie in front of you.

Not twenty minutes later, you and Frenchie had both fallen asleep, your dozing heads resting upon either side of Kimiko’s shoulders. She, however, stayed wide awake, watching the movie until the very last of its credits, silently mouthing along to the songs.

#kimiko miyashiro x reader #the boys kimiko x reader #the boys x reader #the boys fanfiction #kimiko miyashiro fanfiction #kimiko miyashiro imagines #kimiko miyashiro fluff #kimiko miyashiro #kimiko miyashiro x you #the boys frenchie x reader #frenchie x reader #frenchie fluff #frenchie imagines

[syrma-sensei]

• Soldier Boy:

→ Different World, Different Words.

→ Rugrats, Pool, and Grilling Techniques.

→ Bad Mouth.

→ Home.

→ Hot Under The Helmet.

→ Hush Hush Behind The Shield.

#the boys masterlist #butcher the boys #kimiko the boys #frenchie the boys #the boys #the boys fanfiction #the boys fic #the boys fanfic #the boys fandom #billy butcher the boys #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher #soldier boy imagine #soldier boy x you #soldier boy #starlight #hughie campbell #mother's milk #homelander

[bellelvrs]

Hello! I have an idea, what if reader tries to break up with homelander and he doesn’t take that too well. Like he’s smashing stuff, “ you can’t break up with me”, etc. it’s perfectly okay if you don’t do this 😁 it’s just a thought.

A/N - SORRY THIS IS LATE THE OLD COPY GOT ACCIDENTALLY DELETED!! Thank you for this idea though, I was super inspired by this prompt! LOVE the idea of writing Homelander as the psychotic monster he is, and how he interacts with those around them. Especially those he loves ;)

UNTIL DEATH / HOMELANDER

summary - never break up with Homelander.

warnings - swearing, abusive behavior, dub/non con (no explicit nsfw), violence

a/n - gn reader, 1298 words

Careful eyes glared at the monster who lay ever so comfortably in your lap. Hair like a golden crop of hay, so sleek and prim, yet dark streaks seemed to spread. You wondered if the color was natural.

‘Y/n.’ Homelander murmured, half of his face buried in your thighs.

Numbness had infected and settled into your body. You couldn’t even touch him. No thoughts, no words could be conjured up in this grey feeling. This abyss you seemed to be helplessly falling through. All due to your idiocy. You idiot. How could you not kno-

‘Yes?’ Your eyes averted to the wall ahead of you.

‘Y’know that gala Vought’s hosting this weekend for all the charity programs and their reps?’

‘Mm,’ after all these years with him, you had learned how to steady your heart beat, ‘what about it?’

Nonetheless, the anticipation induced a nauseating anxiety. Your heart gradually began to race, a cold sweat accumulated on your brow.

Homelander often did not scare you. Yes, he was very much an intimidating figure, but beneath that facade of the perfect American hero was a soft, sad boy.

Things were different now. You caught a glimpse of reality after reveling in the paradise he brought into your life. The home, the money, the protection, the love. Something you used to only dream of. Those days spent in that studio on the borders of the Eastside. No family, no job. Just hope and youth. You wished to be a supe, one that could rewrite time. One that could right all the wrongs, replace the rushed choices of young adulthood. Or maybe one that could pop heads.

That might be easier.

‘I want you to come with me.’ Homelander said, fixing his position so he could look at you.

‘I-um…why?’ You knew why.

‘I just think it’s time I introduce you to The Seven. The media. My team already got some PR stunts planned, I ordered some designer for you to show up in and all that bullshit.’ His gaze felt like a blade piercing into your skin. Intense, sharp. ‘I want to show you off.’

It was time.

‘I-‘

A beat.

‘No.’ You shook your head, wriggling out from under him. He sat up, blatant confusion painted on his face.

‘No?’

You stood up, head hanging low, palm on forehead. Before you could let any more words slip, you had to think. Process what you had to say. Every sentence must be presented with perfection, in fear that repercussions would be fatal.

‘Look, I just, I can’t.’ You said, stumbling over your words.

With the entire apartment dimly lit, it only seemed to enhance how menacing his presence was. It was almost as if a dark, crimson aura fit the outline of his silhouette. The radiance of the cityscape danced against the definition of every muscle and bone. Shadows fell from the features of his face. He stood and approached you, causing you to instinctively draw back.

‘What do you mean you can’t?’ He sneered with a puzzled grin.

‘Homelander, we need to talk-‘

‘I don’t get why you’re making this more difficult than it should be,’

The sound of his gloved fist flexing rang through your ears like a siren.

‘I mean I’ve already prepared everything…I’ve done all the dirty work and now you want to back out?’ Homelander chuckled, hands on his hips.

‘I don’t want to fucking go. Can you just let me spea-‘

‘Jesus, y/n, just say yes. It’s one night, you don’t even have to do anything hard, so stop being a brat.’

Homelander turned to face the city, blocking it’s illumination. You cursed under your breath, slamming your hand on the kitchen counter beside you. He wasn’t used to rejection, especially from you.

‘Why are you being like this?’ For once, he spoke softly.

He’s just a sensitive little boy. That’s all he is. All he will ever be.

Life was so precious, and you had just started to live it. The thrill of first class living, the luxuries and connections it offered. The way he came to you with open arms, the strongest, most loving superhero the world had ever met. Everything, every last detail, item and action, was for you. All for you.

But at what cost?

‘I saw the Flight 37 video.’

Both of you struggled within the silence. Air caught in your lungs, every breath grasping for more than your body could take. Homelander, seemingly serene, massaged his temples and let out a laugh. A laugh. Something sinister hid behind that face. That pristine, calculated, manufactured face. Nothing about him was natural or real. An artificial man molded from lies.

‘Y/n, come on-‘

‘At first I didn’t believe it to be you. I denied that you could do such a thing.’ Heavy tears trapped at the rim of your eye line.

‘But I know that face,’ Your lip trembled, ‘I know what you can…be like. And-and I can’t turn a blind eye to something so horrible, Homelander. It just makes me think, what if else have you done? What other fucked up things, huh?’

Not a single sound left him.

‘I mean, murdering kids? Seriously? You let all those innocents die?’

Homelander clicked his jaw, ‘What are you gonna do y/n?’

Brow furrowed, you felt your blood go ablaze.

‘Hm?’ He turned his head to the side, not completely making eye contact with you.

‘I’m leaving you, you vile, sadistic son of a bit-‘

Shattered glass fall onto the ground like raindrops. A heated ray of light tears through the walls and the couch as if they were thin sheets of paper. Furniture incinerated into oblivion.

A shock of adrenaline runs through every limb in your body. Frantically, you rummage through every drawer in search of a weapon. There’s no use, but it seems right in the moment. A chef knife glistens, catching your eye. In good condition, but child’s play against a man like Homelander.

He turns to face you with a predacious stare. His chest is heaving with rage, eyes still aglow.

‘I swear to god, if you come near me you fucking psychopath!’ You blurt, presenting the knife.

‘Don’t talk to me like that you little bitch!’ Homelander growls, pointing a finger as he quickly makes his way toward you.

Panic drowns your sanity as you attempt to escape from the kitchen. Before you could even lift yourself to jump over the counter, he grabs the back of your neck and aggressively pulls you away.

‘Let me go! Let me go!’ You screech, a guttural, terrified scream following.

‘Oh no,’ Homelander flipped you around, pushing you against the edge of the counter before delicately wrapping his entire hand around your neck. Your body slightly lifted from the ground.

‘No, no, no.’ Homelanders face twitched with anger, ‘You aren’t going anywhere. You are mine.’

A few pathetic whimpers left your throat. Struggling against his weight only made his grip become tighter.

‘Oh look at you. Tsk, tsk.’ Homelander teased. ‘Tell me, who showed you the video? Did your slutty ass fuck some lousy pap for it?’

Trembling aggressively, you could only release grunts of pain and fear. His growing erection pushed into your hip as he held you against the counter.

‘Such a puny little thing. Admit it, you need me.’ At this point, Homelander only spoke to himself. Rather than talking to you, he admired how you squirmed and cried. Pain looked beautiful on you.

‘The only time we will ever be separate is when you’re dead in the ground.’

That smile. That wicked, crazed smile.

‘And I’ll decide when that happens.’

Homelander pressed a desperate, hungry kiss onto your puffed lips, sitting you down on the cold marble to spread your legs.

#homelander x you #homelander x reader #homelander #the boys x you #the boys amazon #the boys #the boys series #the boys season 3 #starlight #queen maeve #billy butcher #hughie campbell #marvin milk #the deep #kimiko miyashiro #frenchie

[beautifulbows924]

As You Wish

Homelander x Gender Neutral!Reader

Masterlist

AFG Bingo Masterlist

Writing Bingo Masterlist

A/N: So I finally got around to writing something for The Boys and I’m really excited about it. Definitely considering making this a series, so let me know what you think! As always, I hope you enjoy. Feel free to leave any feedback you have in the comments and if you like my work consider leaving a tip! Thanks:)

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 1K

Warnings: Blood Mention, Homelander (he definitely needs his own warning), No Spoilers, Angst, Injuries/bruises but they aren’t graphic, the tiniest bit of fluff if you squint really hard, canon divergence, soulmates share each other’s injuries/pain.

Summary: Homelander takes a special interest in you after a strange encounter.

Created for / Fandom: The Boys / @anyfandomgoesbingo Square Filled I1: Awkward Encounter / @anyfandomaubingo N4: Soulmate AU / @badthingshappenbingo I5: Bruises

You hold a strained smile, one that doesn’t quite reach your eyes, an empty sort of sparkle. The dark circles beneath them working to only accentuate the pounding headache you’re trying to hide.

Exhausted from not having slept much the night before, you allow yourself a moment, taking in a deep breath to mentally prepare yourself for the rest of the day. Calculating whether or not you can slip in a quick nap on your office couch.

A bitter, coppery flavor hits your tongue, a sudden consequence of biting down too hard on your bottom lip. “Fuck”, you hiss, bringing a hand underneath your chin to catch the drips of blood before they can fall onto your clothes. Just your luck.

“You—You’re bleeding”, Ashley points out.

There’s salt in the air, a tinge of rust. Homelander licks his lips, enjoying the unusual taste of morality as he forces his face into a grimace, “Well don’t just stand there! Get me something”.

The way her heart jolts in her chest causes the corners of his mouth to turn up slightly. He loves how uneasy he makes her feel, thrives off of it.

“Right—sorry”, she says, averting her eyes as she grabs an unnecessary amount of tissues, roughly dabbing them onto his mouth and chin.

Annoyed, he grabs her arm with a gloved hand, his grip just tight enough to leave behind a bruising warning, “That’s enough. Leave”.

She disappears from his eyeline almost immediately, not wanting to anger him any further.

Heels clicking, her palms coated in sweat. He continues to listen to her heartbeat for a moment, smirking at the familiar sound of hair being pulled out at the root as she frantically presses the button to call the elevator.

Hands shaking, her eyes fixed on the clumps of hair splayed across the floor. He grins.

As the doors shut behind her, signaling that he’s finally alone—Homelander pulls off one of his gloves, using an uncovered digit to sweep up the blood she left behind.

Suckling it off his finger, he groans in appreciation, a satisfied smirk sliding across his face as he licks his lips.

With the taste of iron still heavy on his tongue, he drops both gloves carelessly to the floor, sauntering down the hall with a spring in his step, eager to start the rest of his day.

It's only when he rounds the corner and crashes into somebody head-on that he remembers he isn't the only person in the building.

You stumble back, clutching at your chest to make sure your heart is still beating. "What the fuck, man?", you snap, not caring enough to get a good look at who you’re talking to.

A smirk curls up the corners of his mouth as he takes a step forwards, closing the space between you. He looks you up and down, his eyes filled with a predatory hunger that would send most men to their knees.

“Sorry, sweetheart”, he says, his voice dripping with honey and poison, “I didn't see you there”.

Pushing down your fear at the sudden sight of spangled- red, white, and blue. You take a deep breath and a step back, trying to steady yourself, his eyes burning through you like lasers. “Yeah, well, try not to run into people, okay?”, you quip, your voice wavering only slightly.

You start to move around him, but he steps into your path, blocking you.

“Hey, I said I was sorry”, he says, his voice taking on a harder edge, “No need to be so rude”.

Your heart pounds as you narrow your eyes at him, “I don't need your apology, I need you to get out of my way”.

“What's your problem?”, he asks, his voice low and dangerous.

You shrug, “I don't have a problem. You're the one who seems to be fixated on me”.

He takes another step closer, invading your personal space, “Maybe, I just find you interesting”.

You snort, “Yeah, right—Can I go now?”.

Homelander simply looks amused, if a bit shocked, as he steps to the side, still close enough for you to feel his breath fan your face.

“As you wish”, he says softly, his voice a caress that leaves you feeling dirty.

You move to walk around him again, but at the last second he catches your arm, grip hard enough to bruise, “I didn't catch your name?”.

You look down at his hand, then back up at him, “It's not important”, your voice steadies, “Now let go of me”.

He studies you for a few seconds before releasing his hold entirely, “Suit yourself”, he says with a shrug and wink, “I'll be seeing you around”.

You know you should be scared, but for some reason you're not.

You’re not sure what it is, but there’s something about Homelander that intrigues you. You can’t help but be drawn to him, even though you know you shouldn’t be.

You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts as you turn the corner, but you can’t help but wonder what he’s really like behind that corporate-curated exterior.

Homelander frowns, his eyes following you.

Your heartbeat is steady.

You’re not afraid of him.

He clenches his jaw, something about you is getting under his skin. You’re different, that much is clear.

Because if anyone else had talked to him that way, they’d already be dead.

He sighs, beginning to walk away, when there’s a sudden pain in his arm.

He freezes, eyes wide as he pulls up the sleeve of his suit.

There’s a bruise. Shaped like a hand. His hand.

His mind races and his chest tightens. Who are you?

Thanks for reading! Let me know if you want to be tagged or un-tagged down below <3

The Boys Taglist: None yet!

#The Boys #Homelander x Reader #Homelander x Gender Neutral Reader #Homelander #The Boys x Reader #Billy Butcher #Hughie Campbell #Annie January #Frenchie #Kimiko #X Reader #The Boys x Gender Neutral Reader #Soulmate AU #The Boys Fanfiction #John x Reader #Homelander x You #Future Smut

[wildyonderwillows]

The Red Dress

Relationship: Billy Butcher x Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4.9k+ Warnings: Explicit language, sexual content, and alcohol consumption Summary: Fourth of July Weekend had more than just fireworks.

Fourth of July weekend was the break you were hoping for. The weather was nice, hot but not terribly so, and most importantly, there was no mention or talk of Vought for the whole day. As much as you enjoyed taking those bastards down, it was nice to have a break, even if it was for a short time. And if that break consisted of a nice barbeque prepared by MM at his home, then so be it. Well, the party was held at Monique’s house but she was away with her parents with Janine for the weekend so you weren’t entirely sure if you and all of the boys were allowed to be here, but it wasn’t your concern. Besides, you knew MM probably asked for her permission, whether she agreed or not was what you were mainly unsure of. 

Regardless, you were simply happy to relax, have some drinks, good food, and watch the fireworks. You even bought a new dress for the occasion since it wasn’t like your wardrobe was that nice and work appropriate, so to speak. The dress you bought was red which was not only perfect for the holiday but for the weather as well. It was light, flowy, had a nice neckline and with it being off the shoulder, it was the perfect blend of dressy-casual. The hem of the dress rested about midthigh which you found to be the perfect length. 

Possibly, you were a tad overdressed since everyone else was probably in shorts and a t-shirt of some kind, but you didn’t care. You were comfy and happy the way you were. You gave yourself a quick once-over in the bathroom mirror, going in there originally to use the bathroom but got distracted by your own reflection and the need for sunblock. Normally, you didn’t care about UV protection but you were a bit exposed and didn’t want to be the color of your dress by the end of the night. Luckily for you, Monique had some in one of the bathroom drawers and you applied it generously to all the exposed parts of your body before leaving the bathroom. 

As soon as you entered the hallway, you could immediately smell the smokiness of the grill and it made your stomach growl, awakening your hunger. You made your way through the house to the backyard to get a peek at what MM was cooking.

The sun shone brightly and you wished you brought a pair of sunglasses, but instead you shielded your eyes with your hand like a visor and walked over to the grill. You saw uncooked patties and hot dogs already splayed out in a neat order but before you could get any closer, MM stepped in front of you. He had on a white shirt and shorts, all hidden behind a very bright red apron, bright enough that it almost matched your dress.

“No peeking,” MM warned lightly, holding up a spatula in the air. You sighed with slight frustration, mainly because you were hungry and wanted an update on when the food would be ready, but you trusted MM and his cooking skills wholeheartedly. 

“How much longer then?”

“At least another hour. It would go by faster but Frenchie is insisting on making some bread since he didn’t buy buns like I asked him to.” MM shook his head, frustrated.

“Do you want me to go out and buy some?” You didn’t care, as long as you could eat quicker.

“Only if you want to, (Y/N). But if you’re going to go, take Butcher and Hughie with you. They’re in the garage, probably vandalizing Todd’s car.” MM’s face turned up at the mention of Todd, Monique’s new boyfriend who you assumed was spending the weekend with them. He was a scrawny dude who did give you weird vibes, but as long as Monique was happy, you kept your thoughts to yourself as did MM, for now.

With a small wave, you made your way towards the garage to in fact find Butcher, who was gazing into the small fridge that was placed right by the parked car. “Where’s Hughie?” You asked and Butcher jumped at the question, cursing as he banged his head on the fridge ceiling.

“Christ (Y/N).” Butcher grumbled as he rubbed the spot on his head he just hit, slamming the fridge shut before his eyes landed on you. “Well, ain’t ya look like a patriotic princess,” he smirked and you rolled your eyes at him, not wanting to comment on how he was wearing the ugliest patterned Hawaiian shirt you had ever seen. It was a salmon color with bright yellow flowers and pineapple scattered across it. 

“I need your keys,” you replied, ignoring his comment as well as the way Butcher was looking at you with that sheepish smile plastered on his face. “MM needs bread.”

“Frenchie on that with Kimiko.” Butcher kept staring at you, not even looking into your eyes as he spoke. “I need beer anyway, this house is dryer than a camel’s vagina.” You made a weird face at the reference, but Butcher didn’t seem to care since he was still staring at your dress.

“Butcher,” you snapped his name and he finally met your eyes. “Where’s Hughie?”

“In the front with Starlight and my beer.” You nodded in understanding, sensing Butcher’s frustration about the lack of alcohol in his system. He brushed past you and you followed him out of the garage and to his car. As soon as you two got in, Butcher started the car and you cranked up the AC. “Hot are ya?”

You shrugged, looking out the window to see Hughie and Annie laughing together which made you smile. “Just like the breeze.” You crossed one leg over the other which allowed for more air to hit your thigh, which also caught Butcher’s eye again. “Aren’t you going to drive?” You asked him, seeming to snap him out of whatever trance he was in as he began to back the car out.

The drive to the closest store was no more than ten minutes, but you felt like it took forever. You seemed to get stuck at every red light and of course, the streets were flooded with cars all trying to get to their holiday destination. It was annoying, to say the least, but Butcher seemed fine since he kept staring at you.

“What?” You seethed at him, your hunger starting to get the best of you. “Why do you keep looking at me?”

Butcher shook his head, his eyes going back to the road with a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Your dress is short.”

“It’s like ninety degrees out.” You did pull the hem of your dress down a little, but it still sprang up and rested right above your knee. “And you don’t have to look, Butcher,” you added, which made him scoff.

“Hard not to.” Butcher glanced at you again before continuing to drive once the light turned green. “I can nearly see your knickers.”

“No you can’t!” You exclaimed, knowing perfectly well you picked the best underwear, which was also red, for this dress with the purpose for it to not be seen. “You’re just being a creep, that’s all.” Butcher shrugged in response, not making any further comments as you finally got through traffic and arrived at the store.

Once parked, you two headed off inside and went separate ways. You got two packages of hamburger and hot dog buns since you weren’t sure how many MM wanted or how many others were going to eat so you decided to play it safe. You then made your way over to the alcohol aisle, finding Butcher with a whole cart of beer, vodka, and spiked lemonade.

“It’s a barbeque, not a frat party.” You shook your head at him as you set the buns down on top of all the alcohol he was buying. 

“I got water too.” Butcher lazily gestured to the small case of water buried underneath all of the alcohol. “Do ya want something else then, sweetheart, while we’re here? Maybe more fabric shrinker for that dress of yours, yeah?” You replied to his comment with an eye roll, starting to walk down the aisles with Butcher and the cart trailing behind you. 

You were leading Butcher to the checkout since you were eager to get out of here and eat, but of course, the bakery section was right next to the checkout lanes and you knew it wouldn’t hurt to just look. 

All of the pastries displayed were all very patriotic looking as well as delicious. You picked up the largest box of cupcakes you saw and put it in the cart, which Butcher made a face at.

“Why are they that red?” Butcher turned his nose up as he inspected the cupcakes. “You Americans and your food dye.”

“Your loss,” you nearly sang as you went to the self checkout section. You picked up the little scanner and hit all the barcodes of everything since you didn’t want to take everything out of the cart and repack it; Butcher handed you some cash to pay. 

Heading back to the car, you let Butcher pack the trunk with all the booze he bought and you took the cupcakes with you to the front seat. You knew you should probably wait until you were back to dig into them, but you weren’t sure how long it would be till you ate and you were too hungry to wait.

The plastic container opened with a pop and the smell of sweetness hit your nose immediately. Right as you were about to pick up a cupcake, Butcher got in the car which took your attention away.

“Ya really gonna eat those?”

“Yeah,” you replied like it was obvious as you picked up the cupcake nearest to you. It was red velvet, artificially dyed as Butcher pointed out earlier but you didn’t care, frosted with white buttercream and blue star sprinkles. You peeled back the cupcake liner and took a bite, savoring it as you satisfied your hunger. “Want one?” You asked Butcher once you swallowed, seeming he was still looking at you. Butcher shook his head, sneaking glances at you as you continued to eat the cupcake on the drive back.

When you arrived back at the house, Hughie helped unload the trunk along with Annie and you all tried to fit as many beverages in the fridge as possible. It would have been smart to have a cooler but the thought of buying one at the store slipped your mind.

With everything put away, you got another update on the food from MM which was another hour. Well, it turned out while you and Butcher were at the store, Frenchie got mad at MM for getting store-bought buns and MM was away from the grill which meant everything he was cooking got burned. Luckily he had more, but you took it upon yourself to go ahead and grab another cupcake.

You scanned the kitchen fridge for some water to wash it down with, but you only found alcohol. You sighed as you stared at your uneaten cupcake, heading off to the garage where you found Butcher again along with Hughie, both chatting about something. You excused your way through, heading into the smaller fridge and grabbing a water.

“Where did you get that?” Hughie asked once you were in a better view, his eyes on the cupcake.

“Kitchen.” Hughie smiled at you in thanks, heading off to the kitchen rather giddy as you set your water down and started on your second cupcake. Before you could take a bite, Butcher grabbed it from you. “Hey!”

“Just wanna bite, see what’s so good about them.” He said casually as you tried to get the cupcake back. Butcher didn’t eat it as delicately as you did, seeming to take a bite of all frosting before handing it back to you. “Had better.” Great, just what you needed: a Butcher demolished cupcake you didn’t even want anymore.

You set the cupcake down beside the fridge, taking a swig of your water while Butcher  continued to drink his beer, his eyes still on you. “You gotta stop looking at me,” you told him after about thirty seconds too long of just awkward silence.

“Don’t flatter yourself, looking at the cupcake.” You gave him a weird look, watching as Butcher walked towards you and set his beer down next to the cupcake before picking it up. “Not gonna finish it?”

“Not with your germs on it, no.”

Butcher seemed amused by your comment as he smiled slyly. “I didn’t touch this side.” Butcher rotated the cupcake to the side that was intact. “All yours.” You looked up at him, seeing his eyes were hungry but you weren’t sure if it was due to the food anymore. Butcher was definitely acting a little…off today, and you weren’t entirely sure why.

Maybe it was you or your outfit, really. It was the first time you wore something remotely girly in a while and maybe Butcher was seeing you in a new light? You weren’t entirely sure but in all honesty, you didn’t seem to mind either. You were flattered by the attention and Butcher wasn’t unattractive, he just got on your nerves, a lot. But what if that was his way of flirting?

You didn’t know and you couldn’t stay in your thoughts for long since Butcher was probably expecting you to do at least something instead of stand there like a damn idiot. So you did. You decided to test your theory and took a swipe of frosting with your finger and slowly sucked it clean.

“Rest is yours.” You broke the silence, but Butcher’s gaze remained on you. 

“Rather eat somethin’ else if it’s alright with you.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at how forward he was being. “Subtlety is certainly not your strong suit, huh?”

“Says the one in the short dress.” Butcher mentioned your outfit choice again as he stepped closer to you. You had no choice but to move back a little, your back resting against the counter now. “I think you wore that purposefully.”

You scoffed, astonished. “You weren’t on my mind at all when I got this.” Honestly, he wasn’t. You got this dress because you liked it, not to give Butcher any satisfaction. “I don’t even like you like that.”

Butcher cocked an eyebrow. “Really? Not even after all these months of being around each other?” He set the cupcake down on the counter, hesitating what to do with his hands before setting them down on the counter as well, placing them on either side of you as he leaned closer to you. 

“Definitely not.”

“Kiss me then and prove it.”

You barked out a laugh. “Fuck no.” You couldn’t hide the fact that your cheeks were heating up but you really hoped it wasn’t as noticeable as you thought it was . Maybe you should kiss Butcher, mainly just to shut him up, fuck with him, and most importantly, prove him wrong. “Wouldn’t want you getting the wrong impression.”

Butcher smiled, flashing those bright whites of his. “And what impression would that be?” 

“That I like you.”

“Dontcha?” You shook your head and Butcher tsked as he shook his head, leaning even closer to you. “Not even a lil bit?” You shook your head again, taking in a breath as you realized how close his face was to yours. “Then one kiss should be nothing then, yeah?” You could smell the beer on his breath, masked with the sweetness of the cupcake. 

Before you could respond, Butcher’s hand was on your cheek, the sensation did give you butterflies but you’re convinced you would feel them if it was anyone’s hand, and his lips were on yours. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, in all honesty, maybe a chaste kiss at most, but no, Butcher was milking this out. His kissed you deeply and seemed to intend for you to feel that kiss all the way down to your fucking core. 

And shit, you did.

His lips were soft and his mustache surprisingly didn’t irritate you as much as you thought it would either. It was a nice kiss-Hell, probably one of the best you had in a while but you weren’t about to indulge Butcher in that. You sure as fuck weren’t going to kiss him back either since that would just prove him and his dumb theory right which you weren’t going to do. So you let him pull away first and let his hand linger on your cheek for a second longer than it should, and you let him stare at you with a flabbergasted look on his face as if he thought kissing you would change something.

Butcher’s thumb traced over your bottom lip before he dropped his hand down to his side. “Nothing?”

“Nothing,” you repeated. Again, you did like the sensation of Butcher touching your face, but perhaps you were touch deprived and enjoyed the new feeling. 

Butcher hummed, seeming surprised and a little…disappointed. “Well,” he smiled, masking if anything was wrong, “sorry for misreading things.” With that, he grabbed his beer and left you alone in the garage, trying to wrap your head around what the fuck just happened.

Your eyes went to the cupcake still on the counter which you tossed on your way out of the garage. You made your way outside where everyone was gathered by the grill, thankful the food was finally ready. With a hamburger perfectly assembled on your flimsy plastic plate, you headed back inside and sat at the dining table across from Annie, who was eating two hot dogs.

You took a glance outside to see Butcher was out there along with the other boys and Kimiko was back inside now too, sitting next to you. She had two hamburgers on her plate, smiling eagerly down at her food. You watched the door to the backyard closely for about a minute, making sure no one else came inside before turning back to them.

“Butcher kissed me.”

Annie nearly choked on the bite she was chewing and Kimiko giggled. “What?!” Annie exclaimed after a couple of coughs, her eyes going wide. “When? Today?” You nodded, rehashing the whole story to Annie and Kimiko, leaving out the sexual remarks Butcher made of course. “And you just walked away? Like it was nothing?”

“Yeah?” You answered, a little confused. “What else would I have done? Butcher’s just fucking with me.”

“Or he could actually like you,” Annie countered and you shook your head, not believing it.

“If he did, then why now? All because of the dress?”

Annie shrugged, taking another bite of her food before speaking again. “Maybe he finally got around to doing something about it. Not like we have a bunch of free time.” Kimiko nodded in agreement to her and now you felt even more confused. 

You could think of countless times you were alone with Butcher and he never mentioned any of this to you let alone let on the fact that he possibly liked you either. Maybe Annie was right and it wasn’t the perfect time to discuss anything personal like that but why did Butcher wait so long?

You shook your head at yourself, not wanting to think or overthink about this right now. Whatever was going on with Butcher could wait until tomorrow.

Or so you thought.

Butcher seemed to be avoiding you for the rest of the evening which you didn’t think much of at first but then you thought he was purposefully going out of his way to not be near you. Maybe he did like you and was being a big baby about you not kissing him back or whatever but it was starting to get on your nerves. You thought it was rude and childish and thought the best way was to confront Butcher but you weren’t sure how.

Well, luckily for you, Frenchie decided to shoot off some fireworks and realized he didn’t have enough to last through the whole night, but MM informed him there was more in the garage which Butcher volunteered to get. And well, you went with him since it was the perfect opportunity to talk to him again and figure out what was going on with him.

He didn’t speak to you when you two went into the garage and went behind the car to look for some while you stayed by the door, making sure to close it. You scanned the shelves above you to see the shelf closest to the ceiling had a giant cardboard box labeled FIREWORKS resting out of your reach.

“Found them!” You called to Butcher, hearing some rustling behind you till he was right next to you. You pointed at the box and Butcher reached up to grab the box, holding it against his chest and frowning as he looked into it. 

“Fucking empty.” He sounded frustrated as he let the box drop to the floor, the sound making a small echo as it fell onto the cement that lined the garage floor. Butcher stomped off over to the fridge, grabbing himself another beer. He managed to get the cap off by banging it on the counter which was quite impressive honestly, but he seemed to be fuming as he gulped down his beer.

“Did I piss you off or something?” You blurted out the thought on your mind, wishing you didn’t say that but it was too late now. 

“No.” Butcher replied without even looking at you, keeping his eyes focused on Todd’s car in front of him, nursing his beer. Yeah, that was a real fucking believable “no”. 

You ran a hand through your hair, unsure of what to say. A part of you was starting to think maybe Annie was right: Butcher liked you and you rejected him in a way. He was not taking the rejection well but in all honesty, you did think Butcher was just trying to mess with you because that was what he did. You never really thought of Butcher liking you either, let alone how you felt about that or about Butcher.

Maybe Butcher’s flirting was actual flirting and you were just an idiot. Well, there was only one way to find out.

With Butcher still sulking or whatever he’d like to call it, you walked over to him, unnoticed until you spoke again. “Gee Butch, I would’ve kissed you back if I knew you were going to be such a baby about it.” Yeah, that would do it.

Butcher’s eyes snapped to you and you smiled at him rather innocently. He set his beer down behind him and turned to face you, arms crossed. “I wouldn’t have kissed you in the first place if I knew you were gonna follow me around like some little puppy dog the whole night.”

You huffed in amusement. “All I wanted was to talk to you since you’ve been avoiding me.”

“Well love, what else was I supposed to do, huh? Kiss that pretty face of yours? Or how about showing ya how much I like you and that dress of yours, hm?” So maybe Annie was right…But before you could think on it more, you got distracted by how close Butcher’s face was to yours again. “But that’s not what you wanted sweetheart, was it? So maybe I am avoiding ya, unless you proved me right and changed your mind?” 

“You’re not right.” Was all you could say because you didn’t want to give Butcher the satisfaction, not yet at least.

“Then why did you follow me? Clearly me not talking to ya must’ve hit some nerve, huh?”

“Because it’s rude and-”

“That the only reason?” Fuck, you hated what game Butcher was playing since you knew you were going to lose. “Or maybe you can’t stand the thought of me not giving you an ounce of attention?” 

“I am not needy,” you laughed in disbelief. 

“Never said you are.” A smile formed on Butcher’s face but it was rather wicked. “All I’m saying (Y/N) is you couldn’t stand me never lookin’ at you again or expressing how insanely attracted I am to you, can you? You can roll your eyes all ya want but I know you want me.” 

Butcher uncrossed his arms to grab your hands, guiding them to wrap around his neck. Once they were secured there, he grabbed you by the hips and hoisted you up onto the counter. His hands moved down to the hem of your dress, his fingers tracing the exposed skin of your thighs, teasingly.

“If you want me to stop,” Butcher leaned in closer and you felt his hands push up the hem of your dress ever so slightly, “tell me.” You didn’t say anything, continuing to stare at Butcher and that shit-eating grin he now had on his face as his lips were nearing yours. “Last chance.” You sat up a little straighter and spread your legs so that they were wrapped around Butcher. “Fucking knew-”

You pulled him into a kiss before he could finish that statement, feeling him smile against the kiss. He kissed you back quickly, as if wanted to make sure that if you pulled away again, he would at least get in another kiss. You had no intention of pulling away and it seemed neither did Butcher. His hands kept moving further up your thighs and you began to unbutton that shirt of his, running your hand along his chest hairs before making your way down to his abdomen. His skin was smooth and muscled, feeling nice against your hand, but you halted when you got to the waistline of his shorts.

Part of you wanted to just go all in, but you decided to tease him a bit. You moved your hand to the front of his shorts, palming his cock through the fabric. Butcher broke out of the kiss and locked eyes with you, an eyebrow raised as if he was saying “Two can play at this game.” 

Whatever game you were playing with Butcher, he was winning. 

Your dress was now pulled up to your waistline, exposing the red underwear Butcher claimed he could see earlier. He had his finger hooked around the front, moving it up and down the fabric with his knuckle moving against your clit. You panted quietly, not wanting to draw attention to what you two were doing. 

Butcher began kissing and nipping at your neck as he continued to tease you while your hands fumbled with the zipper of his shorts, wanting to feel more of him. “You first,” Butcher whispered in your ear as he guided your hands away from his shorts. You weren’t sure what Butcher meant but got the idea when he placed himself in between your thighs. “Still don’t like me, hm?” He smirked as he noticed the visible wet stain in your panties. He ran his tongue over the front of your panties, nearly feeling his tongue against your clit. You couldn’t help but let a moan escape, hearing it echo in the garage.

Your hands found their way into Butcher’s hair, practically digging your nails into his scalp as he pushed your underwear aside and began to lick your clit. Your head fell back and you closed your eyes, savoring the feeling as you didn’t want it to end. At least you found a better use for Butcher’s mouth because fuck was he good at this. It was like he already had you all figured out and he had been doing this to you for years. You couldn’t control what words spilled out of your mouth at this point but Butcher didn’t care. He licked you like that damn frosting on the cupcake, licking it all till there was none left just like he was licking you until you came. Butcher, of course, milked out every bit of that before pulling away, leaving you breathless and panting.

“Much better than a cupcake.” You wanted to roll your eyes at him but all you could do was smile and let him kiss you again. 

Once you had come down from your orgasm, you resumed your attention to Butcher’s cock. He didn’t stop you this time when you got his shorts down and broke out of the kiss when you finally wrapped your hand around his cock. He was already so slicked with precum that it didn’t take him long to finish either but fuck, you couldn’t wait to do this again with him.

Butcher cupped your face with his hands and kissed you rather sweetly before pulling away. He came back seconds later with a rag, poured some water on it from one of the bottles in the fridge, and cleaned you up. He tossed the rag to the side when he was done and helped you off the counter before hiking his shorts up and buttoning his shirt. 

“You gotta admit, (Y/N), you have to like me just a little bit.” You shrugged nonchalantly, letting Butcher take your hand as you two walked out of the garage. 

“Maybe just a little bit,” you agreed with a giggle and Butcher gave you a kiss on the forehead before you two walked outside to join everyone else again. 

“I take it there were no fireworks?” Hughie asked, a knowing look on his face.

“They made their own, petit Hughie, can’t you tell?” Frenchie snickered which made everyone laugh, except Butcher.

“Oh fuck off you lot.” Butcher spat but you could see the smile he was holding back which made you smile even more. 

#billy butcher x reader #billy butcher x you #the boys fanfiction #billy butcher fanfic #the boys #billy butcher #reader #hughie campbell #annie january #mothers milk #frenchie #kimiko #one shot

[capaldofilcumbergirl]

The Boys said it. You can still deeply care about your ex-partner even when you love somebody else. Thank you Frenchie and Annie for showing us how normal relationships work.

#i mean he obviously loves kimiko but still deeply cares about Cherie #and that is so right I am tired of ex partners being the bad hated guys in shows #same with Annie and supersonic #that's it thank you #frenchie x kimiko #the boys amazon #frenchie and kimiko #frenchie the boys #kimiko the boys #kimiko and frenchie #the boys season 3 #the boys frenchie #frenchie #starlight the boys #annie january #supersonic the boys #alex the boys

[royalydamned]

huge I love you to the people mad and confused about the kimiko frenchie suddenly taking "family" turn. Sometimes family is two people married with their dysfunctional friends and maybe a cat when things calm down. Big shame in those who's first thought went to "they are siblings".

#frenchie x kimiko #yes I just finished it and #*screams* #writers: they are platonic #me: no <3 thank you #you mean to tell me I'm left to ship hughie and Annie or homelander with another crazy bitch? #ugh

[obsessedwrhys]

The Seven and The Boys with forced supe reader(like Billy’s little sister as revenge for billy and the boys constantly causing problems)

Rouge powers reader————powers turn on and off randomly

can absorb life forces and powers(which they can steal(albeit accidentally))

Very stubborn and sarcastic just like her brother

Home lander is probably extra yandere for tons of reasons and keeps the reader in a glass room(enclosure or whatever)(think a zoo exhibit or big aquarium tank without water—— that one room from You or the glass apartment In Supernova for the kid with the same sort of powers)so that he can see his pet/prize/whatever tf he plans to do with them

-🌑

I keep seeing this as a full blown fic in my mind but I don’t have the skills to pull it off so I’d like to see other people’s takes on the idea!

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The Boys x Rogue!Reader

ᯓ★ I read your req and I'm intrigued so this is my attempt on it, hope it meets your expectations. This is like a full on story lol (angst, gore, death, killing, looooots of cursing like I'm not even exaggerating, homelander being homelander, some fluff at the end?)

With your brother's reputation, it's hard to ever live your whole life without the constant need to look over the shoulder. You always liked to tell yourself that after cutting ties with him, it will ensure you your safety, but those words were nothing more than just lies.

Losing Becca changed him completely. You could still recall the last time you spoke to him, the talk regarding your concern escalating into a heated argument.

"I'm telling you! You have no chance against a literal superpowered person! You'll get yourself killed!" You raised your voice, standing on the other side of the kitchen counter.

"Yeah, but this ain't a life worth livin' for anyways" He brushed your words off like he usually does. You watch in disbelief as he pours himself alcohol.

"Fuck you. You're such an asshole..." You said and he nods at you as he lifts his glass up.

"I'll drink to that" You scoff when he actually drank from his cup, the sound of him sipping ticking you off.

"Okay, fine, get yourself killed! But I won't stand to be here when it happens. I want you out of my life. I never wanna see you. I never even want to hear from you again! You're... you're..." You gasp as you start to sob. He turns to you, nothing but a blank expression on his face.

"Hey... take it easy—"

"No! Don't you fucking tell me to take this shit easy when you just admit to me that you're willing to throw away your life for some blonde american supe! You are a shitty brother! You're just like dad!"

"Don't you fuckin' compare me to that cunt!"

"I fucking said what I said!"

"Fuck you!"

"FUCK YOU!!"

The sound of your heavy breathing filled the kitchen. You could feel your chest rising and falling, your face burning from the overwhelming anger. Butcher sighs at the sight of you as he looks away with his eyes closed.

"You don't know half the things I know sis... you have to understand..."

"No... don't bother telling me. I already know that you'll never change..." You grabbed your things and before he could stop you, you left the house, slamming the door while you were at it.

For the next 8 years, you would find yourself living somehow a happier life. Making friends, going through relationships and heartbreaks, getting multiple jobs to pay for your apartment. It was like an ocean wave since it was never steady but you couldn't deny you've never felt more alive.

However, even on these good days, there were nights you'd find yourself waking up to nightmares. Nightmares of your brother dying. Nightmares of being abandoned. It always left you covered in cold sweats and sometimes you couldn't go back to sleep so you'd just sit by the window or watch some videos online to keep your mind off it.

Even though you convince yourself you were happier.

You never felt secure.

You always felt like something was out to get you.

Especially after you saw the news of him theorised to have killed the senior vice president working at Vought. You couldn't bother to remember her name cause the image of your brother was hauntingly enough. That's when you realised, if they were after him, what if they were also after you?

You stood at the counter of the restaurant you worked at. The job was new as you interviewed for the role of the cashier. Though all these days of dealing with rude customers and having to force a smile is making you want to rethink a different job. Just then, the door to the restaurant opens.

"Welcome!" You said as cheerfully as you can. Instead of searching for a table to sit, the customer approaches you.

"I'm sorry but where's the restroom? I really need to go" The customer spoke, he was wearing an awfully lots of layers, even shades indoors.

"It's just at the back to the right, there's a huge sign, it's hard to miss it" You smiled and the customer stares at you for a while before nodding.

"Thank you"

Finally, he leaves and you couldn't help but be relieved. Why were you holding your breath in the first place? After a couple more hours of standing around and smiling, your shift was done. You did your daily duties and cleaned up the place, making sure it was clean before you leave.

"Bye (Y/N)! Don't forget about our hangout this Friday night!" Your friend spoke as she leaves first.

"Trust me I'm looking forward to it!" You replied before heading to the back of the building to throw the trash away.

You were on your way to the huge bins until you felt the trash bag become lighter. You stare down and was annoyed the second you saw that the bag had tore. It's settled, you're getting a new job after you get your salary. You crouched down and tried to think of ways to solve the issue.

Once you stood up, you felt a sharp pain on your neck. Before you could even do anything to find the source of the pain, you collapsed. The last thing you could feel before becoming unconscious was the touch of someone catching you.

....

"Will it work?"

........

"We've only tested on rats. We're not sure sir"

...........

"Do I have to rephrase? If she dies, you fucking die with her, you understand?"

...............

"Yes sir"

.....................

"Good. Now do what you're only good for, you fucking worthless piece of shit"

...............................

Lights... knives... syringes... you slowly awoke on the floor as faint images of what you would recall as a memory began flashing in your head. Did that happen? It felt real. You opened your eyes and blinked a couple of time to register the room you were in.

You were... in a cage?

You looked around, the walls and floors made of white marbles which made it cold when your skin made contact with it. Now that you realised, you were no longer in your uniform, you seemed to be wearing some kind of gown patients would wear for surgery.

"Morning sunshine!" Your body jumped when you heard a familiar voice, a voice you only heard on the tv or radio shows. You stare at him as he walks to the center, a few feet from your cage.

It was Homelander. You never thought the day would come where you would be face to face to the person behind the reasons of your brother's rampage.

"Did you rest well?" He asks, an eary grin on his face. You looked around the inside of your glass cage.

"Couldn't you have given me a mattress?" You said. Your concern catching him a bit off guard but he didn't show it.

"Well, we tried to give you something more comfortable to sleep on but it seems like anyone who tried to even touch you ended up well... what's the word for it... withered. Dead. Nothing but a corpse suck dry of it's life" He said but you had no idea what any of his words meant.

"Is this some joke?" He chuckles.

"No. No joke (Y/N). I'm simply just giving my hypothesis on your new powers"

Powers? You have to be high right?

Did whatever pain that you felt was the mark of your death?

Is this some sick twisted illusion of yours created in hell?

"Yeah right... and I'm fucking Beyonce. Would you like to see my collection of Grammys?" You said sarcastically, clearly not taking anything seriously.

Homelander doesn't say anything but just laugh, since you were clearly convinced this was hell and that you were dead, you laughed along with him. He trembles his shoulders as if he's cold, that devilish grin still on his face.

"Wooo! You're a jokester aren't you (Y/N)? I know I'm just gonna love you. How about I bring you a gift as a symbol of our blossoming friendship?" He asked but he had already left the room. Your answer never even needed at all.

As your laughter died down, you were left alone in the room. You felt high. Too realistically high. Were you pumped with drugs? Shit... you grabbed your head as you tried to process the feeling until you heard the sound of a high pitched scream. You turn your head to find it to be your friend from work. She was shoved into the room and right when she stood up to leave, the door was shut.

"Let me the fuck out! You fucking bitch! You promised me weed!" She slammed on the door a couple of times after attempting to twist the doorknob open.

"Cleo?" She turns to you, her masacra ruined from her tears.

"(Y/N)? Holy shit what happened to your hair?" She said and you were confused until you checked to see the front strands of your hair now dyed white.

Okay now what in the actual fuck is happening...

"I don't know...? Why are you here?" You questioned.

"Some fucker promised me weed for some cash. I should have known better when I saw how cheap it was" She sighs as she sits against the door.

Suddenly the glass door on your cage sprung open. The two of you exchanged confused expressions. Is this some kind of trick? You wondered but either way you stepped out from your cage and began to approach your friend. She sighs as she curls up into a ball.

"What the fuck even is this place...?" She asks after you finally sat down beside her. You rubbed her arm to provide some comfort.

"I don't know... this feels real and fake at the same time. Hey, if by any chance we were in a puzzle just like in Saw, how much do you wanna bet who'd win—?" You nudged her playfully but instead of getting a response. She falls over.

Her face was pale white. Eyes dilated. The veins on her body growing visibly purple. The sight left you in shock and you quickly grabbed her by the shoulder to jerk her a few times. No words left her mouth except sounds of gasping, as if the air was getting sucked out of her lungs.

"Cleo! What the fuck! Holy fucking shit!" You cursed and it didn't take long until her body grows limp. Like a skeleton with a thin layer of skin left.

Afraid the same would happen to you, you quickly ran into your cage. You sat at the corner, trying your hardest not to look at your friend. That was real. This isn't some stupid trick set up by Satan. This is fucking real.

But why is this happening?

Why you?

The glass door slammed shut and the noise made your body jump. The door to the room opened but got stuck at the weight of your friend's corpse. You could hear the sound of disgust come from Homelander as he ends up kicking body aside to be able to open the door fully.

"So... did you like my gift?"

"What the fuck did you do? Did you poison her?" You said which he seemed offended at.

"Me? Oh please, I can shoot fucking lasers out of my eyes and I choose to poison some fucking nobody? I mean look at her" He chuckles, his eyes staring at the corpse of what was your friend.

His tone and words growing a small wave of anger within your chest.

"What do you want from me?"

"You know what I want" He said, the smile on his face gone. He was now serious. His gaze cold enough to send shivers down your body.

"(Y/N) Butcher. Butcher. I didn't know he had a little sister" He took a step closer, then another, until he was face to face to the glass, staring down at your figure hiding away in the corner.

"He really doesn't get scared huh? Not afraid of death, to take a life, not even me. And well... since he fucking hates supes so much, then I might as well make his beloved sister one. If I can't strike fear in him, you will" Homelander spoke, the corner of his lips twisting into a grin. As if all of this was bringing him some sick enjoyment.

"Everyone will be the pawn and you'll be the queen... so save your strength. You're gonna need it sweetheart" He turned around and as he leaves, he stares at the corpse for a quick moment. Even from inside the cage you could hear him shout for the people working to clean the body.

Fuck... this cannot be your life now...

You're now an animal kept in a cage.

Hours progressed to days then months. The only thing keeping you entertained was... the toilet? Aside from that was the visits Homelander would pay you every now and then to make sure you were alive. It almost seemed like he had expected you to be dead by now but you weren't, which he's impressed about.

You laid on the ground, staring at the ceiling. You were bored so you decided to try to count from 1 to 10000 this time. Just as you got to 482, the door opened and you turned to see it wasn't Homelander but rather a worker. Assuming he's just here to clean, you turned back to the ceiling to continue counting.

"Pssh, ma dame, do you hear me?" He knocks on the glass, his french accent caught your attention.

"I don't care. I'm not gonna strip for you"

"Nono! That's not why I'm here, your brother, Billy Butcher? He sent me here" His name striking something in you. You got up as your eyes are slightly widened.

"He knows I'm here?"

"Yes... he's here as well. He's gonna try to get you out of here"

Just as he finishes talking, the glass door sprung open. He gets in the cage and reaches for you but right as you reach for his hand, you remembered you weren't the same anymore, you were cursed, so you quickly pull your hand away. Your action causes the man to tilt his head in confusion.

"Do not worry, I'm not here to hurt you" He tries to take a few steps closer but you quickly stepped back.

"No.... no stop! That's enough!" You raised your hands gesturing him to stand where he's at.

"Don't touch me..." You added and he stares at you for a moment before taking a few steps back until he's out of the cage.

"Okay... but you must follow me. We don't have much time left" He said, walking out of the room and you hesitated for a while before following after him.

When walking down the hallway, you couldn't help but look around the area. This was your first time seeing the place you've been trapped inside for supposedly months. As you followed the strange man who saved you, you noticed that he seemed to be talking to someone over his earpiece. Was it Butcher?

After managing to sneak past several guards and having a few close calls, you two finally made it out from one of the back doors. You hurried as you followed the man somewhere. You couldn't believe it. The feel of the wind and the smell of the grass was making you wish you appreciated the outdoor more.

"Were you noticed?" His friend who's been on the look out asked. He shakes his head.

"No" After hearing his reponse, his friend turns to look at you.

"I'm M.M.... C'mon, your brother put in a lot to save you" He began walking away and the two of you simply went along.

He did?

"I haven't introduced myself. I'm Frenchie. It's nice to meet you" The man who saved you earlier said with a smile and you weakly smile back.

The moment the three of you reached a van parked in a safe area. The door slide open and your eyes widened once you were locked eyes with someone familiar. Yet he looked so much different now. He grew a beard. You had to admit, it made him look less ugly.

"(Y/N)..." He got out of the van and was ready to embrace you but you quickly avoided his grasp. This causes him to stand there with his arms hanging there awkwardly.

"Ooookay.... get in" M.M told Frenchie and they did just that, sliding the door close to give you both the privacy.

"All these years and you still hate your ol' brother" He jokes as he drops his hands down to his sides, but it was clear that he was upset at your actions and trying to hide it.

"Don't touch me"

"I got it"

The two of you stood there and you were staring at him a little too hard. Thoughts racing in your head like a racetrack. What the fuck has he been up to these years and how did he even find you?

"So... are we jus' gonna stand here and wait for 'em to realise you're missin'?" He nods at the facility nearby and you sigh.

"You're taking me home" You walked over to the passenger seat but the sound of Butcher clicking his tongue made you stop halfway in your tracks. Now you were standing in front of the van.

"Not gonna happen. Is your head loose of screws sis? They know who you are now, which means they know where you live. You're gonna be stayin' with me" He said.

Shit... there's really no chance of a normal life now. You really are cursed.

"Stay with you? With these guys?" You point at the van and from the front of the vehicle, you could see his friends all huddled in the back, the whole time they've been secretly listening to the conversation but once you pointed at them, they tried to act as though they haven't been doing so.

"They can protect you"

"I don't need protecting. The last thing I need is someone doing that"

"Oh really? Then mind sharing your experience in there? Was it a luxury? How much longer do you think you could have lasted if I hadn't found you" He took a few steps closer and you gave him a warning look.

"You're my sister... you think a few fights is gonna change that?" He tried reaching for your shoulder and you quickly dodged it. Failing to notice, tears were beginning to well up in your eyes because deep inside, you were desperately in need of comfort, a hug, anything physical but you couldn't even have that.

"You can't touch me... nobody can.... f-fuck... I killed my friend just by touching her..." You began to sob, your hands grabbing onto your face in an attempt to hide your expression. A frown appears on his face.

"What the fuck did they do to you...?"

"They made me a freak! They gave me these fucked up powers!! I don't want this...!" You cried, wishing this was another of your nightmares and that none of this was real.

"It's okay... come here..." He began to step closer to you but you were too numb from the feeling to even react.

Taking off his coat, he puts it securely around you before wrapping you in his arms. For the first time in months, you finally felt the presence of another person's embrace. The warmth felt so good. It was like you were melting from it. Your sobs grew weak as you nuzzle onto his chest, the fabric separating the contact of your skin with his. This was everything you needed right now.

"We'll get through this... these powers of yours ain't gonna scare me away" He said, rubbing your back gently.

"Thank you..." You muttered.

After you escaped and made it safely away from your prison. Homelander was alerted of your escape a few hours later. He arrives at the facility, walking down the hallway as the doctors walking by were scared to see him and trying their best to avoid his sight. Once he walks in the office of the head security, the man sprung up almost instinctly.

"Sir" He greets him. Homelander doesn't say anything but stare at him... before breaking into a smile.

"Great job, at least you're good at failing at your job. Now show me" He walks over to the guard's side who's hurrying to click a few things on his computer to show him what he came here for.

"The tracker we planted in her is working well and fine. She's currently in a vehicle heading somewhere"

"Good... it's like sending a cat to a bunch of rats" Homelander then gave the man a strong pat on the shoulder.

"Do we go after them sir?"

"No, keep an eye on her for now. I'll tell you when the time is ready" Without any further discussion, he left the office. A plan already set in his mind.

(I might make a part 2 but I'm not sure if anyone would be interested, it'll be sort of fluff where the boys figure out her powers, some angst? Idk, tell me if you think I should)

#Homelander: haha got your nose 🤪 #can i get some fries and a big mac #the boys amazon #the boys #the boys frenchie #the boys butcher #the boys mothers milk #the boys kimiko #the boys billy butcher #the boys hughie #the boys x you #the boys x y/n #the boys x reader #the boys x female reader #butcher x reader #homelander x reader #x reader #angst #the boys angst #frenchie x reader #hughie x reader #mm x reader #kimiko x reader #the boys homelander #homelander #fluff

[zepskies]

Break Me Down - Part 1

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

Word Count: 5,200 Warnings: Some male skeeviness lol.

Part 1: The Game Begins

Two months ago…

You and M.M. continued to pour over all the records that the CIA had been able to pull on Soldier Boy.

This had been your life for the past month: locked in one hotel room after the next, up to your eyeballs in research. Or pounding the pavement in the sweltering summer of Brazil, on any whisper of Soldier Boy.

Right now it was the former. You all were piled into M.M.’s room, as it was the only one with a kitchen.

You smiled at Frenchie and thanked him when he offered you a steaming mug. At least you would finally get to experience Brazilian coffee.

You hiked a foot on the table where you and M.M. were working and sipped carefully; the mug was filled to the brim. Your companion eyed your pajama-clad leg, which only encroached an inch or two into his space.

“Excuse the fuck outta me,” said M.M. “Can you not?”

You briefly looked up from the (completely fabricated) biopic you were reading on Soldier Boy. “Hmm?”

M.M. gestured to your bare foot on the table. “Hello? What, were you raised in a fucking barn?”

With an amused smile, you lowered your leg. “I’m cramping up. We’ve been at this for six hours.”

“And counting,” Hughie said with a tired sigh. He and Annie had just come from scoping the local tourist spots and dive bars in the city. It wasn’t for pleasure though. You all had arrived in Brazil last night on a rumor that Soldier Boy had been spotted at a club a couple of days ago. 

Annie heaved a sigh as she dropped into the seat next to you. She stole your paper fan on the table and tried to dry the sweat on her face and neck. You smiled and passed her your bottled water as well.

You and Annie had been “work friendly” at Supe Affairs. Now you felt like she had accepted you the most readily into the group. She seemed genuinely interested in who you were as a person as well.

Though you tried not to give too many personal details about your life, she had a way of disarming you, getting you to open up with her genuine willingness to listen. 

You were friendly enough with Hughie and Kimiko as well, and you could also admit, you liked M.M. He was a straightforward man (and fun to tease with his anal idiosyncrasies). You got the most done with M.M. by your side. And watching him with Frenchie was pure entertainment. 

Overall, you felt respected by them, even if you knew you weren’t as close as the rest of them seemed to be. You just hadn’t been on the team long enough. 

The only one who mostly ignored you was Billy Butcher.

Butcher didn’t want you on the team. He’d made that pretty clear from the beginning.

What had his words been? Oh, yeah.

She’s a fucking amateur. Won’t last thirty seconds if, heavens for-fuckin’-bid, she encounters an A-lister like Soldier Boy. 

You knew he considered you dead weight. But as Grace had told him, her track record speaks for itself. 

No, you weren’t former SAS, like Butcher. You weren’t CIA, or any other military alphabet soup. But if there was one thing you knew how to do, it was tracking people down.

You were currently flitting through Soldier Boy’s sham career: the shitty music videos, the starlets, the ticker tape parades, and what precious little there was about his beginnings: about “Ben.” 

You did find out that his family was from Hartford, Connecticut, and stupidly rich too. You found his parents’ names to go along with that. 

And then it was a hop, skip, and a jump to him being unveiled as Soldier Boy.  

“That is curious,” you murmured. 

“Curious about the world’s most infamous granny fucker?” Butcher remarked. You slid him a wry look. 

The fact that he tried to erase his past is interesting,” you said. “The details that aren’t here are just as important as the ones that are.”

Butcher hesitated a second, an ice-cold beer poised to his lips. He tipped it toward you in acknowledgement. “On that, we actually agree.”

“What do we know about his real life? Before he became Soldier Boy,” you asked.

Butcher sat down across from you and shaded in the details he knew, mostly about a disappointed father. 

“Didn’t get enough hugs as a lad,” he surmised. 

You suspected he was understating the truth. If there weren’t that many recorded accounts, pictures, or footage of Soldier Boy’s parents and home life, then he didn’t want people to know. 

Interesting, you thought. Eventually Butcher got up to run down another lead that came in via text from Grace. Frenchie came back from the kitchen and saw how intently you were staring at your computer screen, eyes rapidly scanning. 

“Ah,” Frenchie said, gesturing between you and the departed Butcher with a hand that held three alfajores cookies. “I see the same anal tenacity that fuels Monsieur Charcutier.”

You raised a brow. “My tenacity is for the case, not Soldier Boy.”

This wasn’t a vendetta for you. This was just business.

“For money,” M.M. correctly guessed, but his eyes held no judgment. “Been there.”

You sighed, smiling a little. Yes, you were doing this for money. They didn’t need to know anything more than that. 

You liked this team well enough, but this was a job. The way you protected your family, and yourself, was by not talking about them.

That night, Frenchie’s ordered “package” arrived, courtesy of Grace. It was a healthy dose of Novichok gas—perhaps one of the only substances on Earth that could put Soldier Boy into a peaceful sleep. 

Well, you didn’t know if it was peaceful, exactly. But he’d be asleep. That was all any of you cared about.

“At least it’s in proper containment this time,” M.M. said, examining the large cannister. Annie peered at it over his shoulder. 

“I don’t know. My shitty perfume case seemed to hold it just fine,” she quipped. 

You smiled from your usual seat at your computer. Annie came over with a sandwich for both of you. It was from the café down the street, and you’d been meaning to try it. Every time you stood out on your hotel room’s balcony, you could smell fresh bread and smoked meats coming from the café. 

“Oh, yeah. How’s your sister?” Annie asked around a mouthful of sandwich. “She’s in college now, right?”

She had a good memory. Annie had heard you on the phone with your sister before you all left last month. You’d said one last goodbye, knowing it wouldn’t be safe to talk once you were locked into this mission.

While you were reluctant to answer Annie’s question, the others seemed distracted in the kitchen, fighting over who ordered chorizo and who ordered steak on their sandwich. 

Still, you lowered your voice, even as a proud smile graced your lips. “She got into Julliard.”

Annie grinned and set her food down to give a little clap. 

“She starts in the fall, so a few months,” you added.

“Aww, you’re glowing with pride,” Annie teased. And you laughed, but it was true. You wouldn’t hide that you were very proud of your little sister’s accomplishments. 

“She’s worked hard, and she deserves it,” you said. Though your eyes dimmed. “I just wish I could help her celebrate…she’s on my case for taking this job.”       

Quite simply, she worried about you. You were good at your job, but you were still human. She’d seen you come home banged up and bruised more often than you cared to admit…

Annie gave you a knowing look. “If you don’t want to be here, you don’t have to. I’m sure you can get other jobs—”

“Getting into school is just the beginning,” you said. “She’s got four years to go. Then her master’s. Hell, her doctorate if she wants.”

“There are scholarships…”

“It’s not enough,” you said with a sigh. It’s never enough.

“All right, lads,” Butcher said. He wiped his mouth with a napkin as he read off his phone. “The new Strongest Cunt in the World has been spotted. Suit up.” 

“Where’re we going?” you asked, closing up your laptop. 

Butcher shot you a wink. “Colombia.”

While on the private plane, you were the only one still awake as you continued to watch the archival footage with your Airpods in. Reel after motherfucking reel of Soldier Boy. 

You really were starting to get sick of his smug face. He was clearly a good actor, if nothing else. 

Then you came across the Russia files. 

Part of you didn’t want to watch. You knew exactly what they were, and you didn’t want to see anything that would make you sympathize with him in your mind…

And yet, your father’s training was ingrained in you—like fingerprints on your skin. Like a vice grip around your throat. 

Everything is relevant, always. Even if it isn’t.

…That, and maybe your own insatiable curiosity won out. 

So you steeled yourself with a breath, and you hit the play button. 

Gradually, your eyes widened. 

You had seen awful things—as a private investigator at your father’s firm, and at Vought. 

You had filled your quota of blood and death. And you had already seen the footage of Soldier Boy blasting a tower full of people in New York with the nuclear power now housed in his chest. 

You also knew what he did to M.M.’s family. But after watching several minutes of Soldier Boy's torture, hearing his struggle, his outbursts of rage, the ragged gasps for breath, the clawing, traumatized sounds...

It was like stereo between your ears, and it was...too familiar. Too much.

So you finally turned it off, closing your laptop with an unsettled breath of your own. 

And you were unable to sleep that night.

When you all finally arrived in Colombia, you and the team surveyed the wreckage in the casino.

It was a fucking blood bath.

As you stepped carefully through the wreckage of bodies and gambling chips, you looked for clues. Anything that might tell you about what Soldier Boy was doing here (though you could guess), and however unlikely, where he might go next. 

You were disheartened to find the body of a young woman. Her big blue eyes were vacant, her blonde hair caked with blood from a head shot. On further inspection, you found a small room key in her hand. 

With a sigh and a gloved hand, you took the key. You also closed the girl’s eyes. 

You kept looking while the others had fanned out in the opposite direction. When you came across a small table that wasn’t turned over or splintered into fragments, you raised a brow. There was a napkin pinned to the top with a steak knife. 

You yanked it out and examined the flimsy napkin. Noticing that you’d found something, Butcher came over to your side. He was much taller than you, fairly looming over your shoulder. You angled the note toward him. 

Try harder.

S.B.

It was more than just a taunt. 

It was the beginning of a game. And it made you smile. 

“What the hell’re you smiling about?” Butcher asked. 

“I like it when they’re cocky,” you replied. Butcher shot you a sideways glance, one that said you were maybe more deranged than even him.

“All supes are cocky bastards.”

You eyed him with a teasing grin. “On that, we actually agree.”

True to Grace’s word, she provided you all with the full extent of the CIA’s resources. While Butcher tracked down the hotel of the room key you found, you and M.M. were able to tap into any and all local street cameras and map out the likely points Soldier Boy had hit in this city—and where he could be going next.  

According to the hotel manager, Soldier Boy had paid for a month’s stay, but hadn’t checked out after coming back for some of his belongings. The security cameras had caught him leaving his hotel room with a few men—armed ex-military types, and possibly his new entourage. 

But the trail ended there. 

Over the next two months, Soldier Boy continued to be one step ahead of you in the chase. 

Though his movements were calculated (disappearing like a coil of smoke whenever you caught his scent), he seemed to be taking an extended vacation surrounding strip clubs, casinos, and other likely destinations for sex, drugs, and money. 

And he’d evaded capture after hitting at least three banks on his way out of the U.S. alone.

At the current crap motel of the week, you shared the couch with Kimiko and Hughie while you surveyed traffic cameras.

“What’s the likelihood that he’s even still in Colombia? In South America, even?” Hughie asked. It was a good goddamn question.

“We have agents covering every major port and air hanger,” M.M. said. “If he wants to escape the continent, he’s gonna have to fight his way out, or rent a dingy and float his motherfuckin’ ass across the Atlantic.” 

“I wouldn’t put anything past him,” you remarked. “What connections does he have?”

It wasn’t the first time you’d asked that question, but it was the first time you got a straightforward answer. 

“Who knows,” said M.M. “He’s an ancient fuck.”

“Who killed all his old friends,” Hughie supplied.

“Well, his team, to be fair. I don’t think he ever had friends,” Annie said. “...Plus his old girlfriend.”

“What a spectacular bonfire that was,” Butcher dryly quipped. 

Nice, you thought, heavy on the sarcasm. 

You sighed. Clearly, you all would have to be prepared for anything.

When you weren’t pouring through surveillance, you took to the streets with Annie, playing the part of American tourists. 

“Soldier Boy don’t know who the fuck you are,” Butcher had reasoned. He’d then pointed at Annie.

“Her fame as Starlight can get you two into whatever bar, club, or fuckhole that might’ve let him in. She’ll park it at a table, attracting attention. Meanwhile, you’ll circle around and look for him.”

It was actually a sound plan, and you could be a decent actor yourself. This wasn’t the first time you’d adopted a role to find your target, and on this mission, it probably wouldn’t be the last.    

Well, a week later, the plan worked. You and Annie encountered a woman at a bar who waited tables at a nearby club, in Medellin. She’d served Soldier Boy just last night. 

Medellin was considered the party city of Colombia, and for good reason. 

Butcher had cleverly found your “disguise” for tonight, though you hadn’t liked the smirk on his bearded face when he gave you the shopping bag. 

It turned out to be a semi-legal black leather dress, along with thigh-high boots possessing a sharp heel. Annie’s dress was just as short, and gold. With her blonde hair and shimmering makeup contrasting your black dress and smokey makeup, the two of you looked like night and day. Light and dark. 

While Hughie manned surveillance in a rented van, parked outside the club, the rest of the team had found strategic points to cover in the club: M.M. was at the bar. Frenchie and Kimiko had found a table to watch the area in front of the stage, while Butcher was somewhere clinging to the shadows. 

You followed Annie into the club. Once they’d recognized her as Starlight, they’d let her right in, and you by association. You didn’t envy her fame, but you could admit, it had some perks.

Inside, the club was dark and loud, and packed with people and streams of colorful light bouncing off the walls. This isn’t going to be easy. 

Both of you scoped the area subtly before joining M.M. at the bar. 

Well, you two found your own opening further down. Sitting next to him would be too obvious.   

You subtly pressed a finger to the communicator in your ear while Annie ordered drinks. 

“It’s gonna be hard to find my own ass in here,” you said to the team. You scanned the place and noticed an entire second and third floor. “This place is huge.” 

“Then get crackin’, love,” Butcher’s voice reached you. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, but you did take the vodka martini Annie offered you. 

“Ah, you beat me to it,” a man said, his richly accented voice hovering near your ear. You turned your head and had to lean back a bit. You were met with blue eyes, tan skin, and an attractive smile. The man tipped an imaginary hat, letting his shoulder-length dark hair dip into his eyes. 

“Good evening, mi vida,” he said. “I was gonna buy you a drink, but I see you’ve got one. Mind if I finish my beer with you?”

Inwardly you wanted to sigh, but you gave a flirtatious smile to keep up appearances. “Sure.”

“Where are you from?” he asked, and with a more teasing smile. “I’m having a hard time placing your accent.” 

You affected a giggle. “Oh, really? You mean I don’t have a massive, neon sign over my head that says, ‘American Tourist?’”

“Well, maybe not neon,” he joked. “I’m Antonio.”

“I’m Jess,” you lied, shaking his hand. He turned it over and pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. Annie raised a brow behind you, but she sipped her drink.

Antonio must’ve been a local. His dark blue buttoned-down shirt, jeans, and boots were more casual than the obvious tourists with their flashing finery. And by his accent, you could guess that he was at least Latino. Colombian, most likely.

You were able to subtly dodge the question of exactly where you were from. And the two of you flirted for a few minutes while you continued to survey the people passing by, scanning the gaps between bodies.

When Antonio finally asked you to dance, you agreed. It would get you further into the club with a better excuse than walking around aimlessly. You turned to Annie.

“Catch you later?” you asked. She tossed you a wink.

“Yeah, girl. Have fun!”

You smiled and let Antonio lead you to the dance floor. You discreetly used every movement to your advantage, looking beyond your dancing partner to continue your search. If Soldier Boy was here, you would find him.

“He’s not here,” said Antonio. It actually managed to jerk you out of your focus.

“Who?” you asked, feigning confusion.

“Whoever you’re looking for that isn’t me,” he said, injecting a fair bit of charm into his voice. 

You actually felt your face warming up at that. The way he was looking at you now, there was very little doubt as to what he wanted. His grip on your hips tightened. 

Part of you was getting impatient with this part of the game, but at the very least, he was a good dancer. He pulled you effortlessly through the cumbia, Colombian salsa dancing, even if he was starting to sweat on you. 

Now, you could almost swear someone was watching. Though it might’ve been the sweat dripping down your spine, you felt that strange prickle on the back of your neck.

Well, besides Annie. You knew she was keeping an eye on you from the bar, as were Frenchie and Kimiko as they joined a poker game in the far corner, away from the dance floor.

Your gaze continued to flit through every corner of the room between spins and the movements of your feet and your hips. 

When Antonio’s hands started get a bit too familiar with the curve of your ass, you took his hands and used them to spin yourself. He brought you back in tight. A bit too tight.

“Come on, baby…” he whispered in your ear.

And you felt his hand slide up the inside of your thigh. He even had the audacity to try and slip past the lacey front of your underwear.

That’s when your patience snapped. 

You grabbed his wrist and “accidentally” drove your heel into his foot. With precision you felt it land between two vertebrae. 

The girlish yelp he made brought a flicker of a smile to your lips, but you covered it with a doe-eyed look and many bumbling apologies. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

He all but shoved you as he limped away, cursing you in Spanish. You’d taken four years of it in high school, and you still only caught half of it.  

Hiding your smile, you walked away and pressed a discreet finger to the comm in your ear. 

“The stage front is clear. Scoping the back.”

“Wait for me,” Annie said. She was still sitting at the bar. “I think you broke that guy’s foot.”

“He had tenacity,” Frenchie remarked.

“All balls and no brains, as usual,” you muttered. “Stay there and look shiny, Annie. He’s less likely to recognize me, but he might come out to play if he spots a familiar face at the bar.”

“She’s right,” Butcher said to Annie. “Stay where you are.”    

You made your way to the bathroom and scoped the hall. There in the privacy of the shadows, you adjusted the gun holster on your thigh. It was a miracle Antonio hadn’t felt it. 

Not that a gun would do much against Soldier Boy, but you didn’t feel right without it. 

Then you kept moving and dodged various couples making out (and more) on your way upstairs.

“Going up,” you informed the team quietly. The second floor was a series of rooms, none of which you wanted to pop in on without an invitation.

After you made it to the end of the hall, you turned a corner and noticed a door hung open a crack. Sliding it open, you found a wall of music there to greet you.

And that wasn’t all.

Inside was a room of people drinking and drugging and generally doing things to one another. You didn’t want to go in, but you wouldn’t put it past Soldier Boy to get caught up in a mass orgy. 

You walked through the room, only taking in what you needed to with your eyes. 

Focusing on the far wall, you saw a leather chair by the window, with a still smoking cigar laid to rest in an ash tray on a small table. Your head tilting with interest, you went over to the table and found another hand-written note. 

Once again, you sighed. “He’s not here, guys. He bounced.”

Once you all regrouped with Hughie outside the club, you handed the note to Butcher with a grimace.

“You have a love letter,” you said. And Hughie too.

With a wry brow raise, Butcher looked down at the scrap of paper.

Butcher, you’ll die first. Then the cum-guzzler. 

S.B.

That night at the hotel, after you'd showered and peeled off that ridiculous dress, you poured over the Soldier Boy files again.

You hadn’t touched the Russia ones since that first night, but you knew you were missing far too much. In order to anticipate his moves, you needed to understand how he thought.

You couldn’t do that if you didn’t even have the full picture of who he was. And the movies, the silly music videos, even the exploded skyscraper and Homelander’s death—none of it told the full story of Ben. 

It didn’t tell you what he wanted. What he cared about. Why he was playing cat and mouse instead of just taking his stand, like his soldier persona would’ve demanded of his pride.

Or maybe that pride's just like everything else: a well-crafted costume.

A knock at your door jolted you out of your thoughts. 

You got up to your feet, briefly looking down to make sure you were decently dressed (you supposed pajama shorts, a bra, and a tank top would suffice). You grabbed your gun and checked the peephole before you answered the door with a smile.

It was M.M. with a mug of tea for you. “I knew you’d still be up, killin’ those files. It’s almost morning, you know.”

You accepted the mug with a warmer smile.  

“Aw, you do care,” you quipped. He rolled his eyes. 

You laughed a little. “Seriously, thank you.”

He pointed at you.

“Go to sleep,” he said. You raised two fingers to your temple in salute. 

“Sir. Yes, sir!” you joked. Really, you appreciated his concern. After hearing many a story about his daughter Jennine, and seeing how the rest of the team respected him, you knew that he was a good man. 

And thanks to him and Annie, you were actually starting to feel like part of this team.

After you wished him goodnight (or good morning, at this rate), you closed the door to your hotel room, followed closely by your laptop. 

You took out your phone, silently contemplating what time it would be in New York right now.

Well, it would be very early in the morning. Still, you thought it was worth a try, since you had the time.

You dialed your sister, Luisa. While it rang, you remembered just how thin these hotel walls were. So you stepped out to the rickety balcony. Jeez, hope it holds my weight throughout this call.

When your sister eventually answered, she murmured your name sleepily in confusion.

“Hey, sorry for waking you up,” you said, feeling bad. 

“It’s okay.” She yawned. “I should be up soon anyway. Got 8 am classes Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.”

“Ech. Screw that shit,” you teased. 

“You’re the one sweating balls in South America.”

“I’d rather be drowning in my own sweat than listening to some old bag drone on for eight hours,” you volleyed back, and leaned against the balcony’s railing, even as it creaked suspiciously with your weight. 

“You, my friend, are uninspired. You mean to tell me mosquitoes and drug cartels are better than Mozart?” your sister asked incredulously. Her sleepy voice was starting to lose some of its gravel as you two fell into familiar bickering. 

“Wow, way to type cast. Not all of South America is about drug-running,” you pointed out. 

“Aren’t there, like, entire shows about people shoving cocaine up their ass to get from Colombia to Miami?” Luisa asked. 

“…Yes, but that’s not the point,” you said with a giggle. “And good guess. I’m actually in Medellin right now.”

“Are you supposed to tell me that?”

“Not really, no, but I don’t think you’ll sell me out to the cartels,” you joked. Or to the Russians, your mind added. That thought made your lips twist sourly. 

“Anyway, are you okay? How’s school, really?”

“It’s good, sis. You know I’m good. I’m worried about you,” she countered, and you could hear the concern in her voice.

“You know me. I’m always good,” you replied with good humor. The silence on the other line told you that you hadn’t been quite convincing enough. 

“When do you think you’ll come home?” she asked.

For what seemed like the hundredth time that night (or morning), you sighed. “That’s hard to say.”

The answering silence told you even more about your sister’s thoughts, and you felt guilty for it. 

“I’m happy just knowing you’re doing so well. With school, starting your adult life, doing your thing,” you added.  

“You need to start thinking about yourself,” she told you.

“What do you mean, Lou? I’m fine.”

It was Louisa’s turn to sigh.

“You know, I was so proud of you when you decided to leave Vought," she said. "When you finally got out from under Dad. When you started working at Supe Affairs…you seemed happy, like you were finally proud of yourself too.”

Emotion started to burn behind your eyes. Part of it was probably sleep deprivation, but you heard the sincerity in your sister’s voice.

She just knew you so well. And she wasn’t lying there—what she’d said was all true of you. However, after the joke that was Victoria Neuman running Supe Affairs, you didn’t know what you could trust anymore. 

Maybe not even your own judgment. 

“But I really wish that you’d consider more than just your work,” Luisa said. “Like a hobby. Take a painting class. Go to karaoke, like we used to do in grade school after Choir practice. You have such a beautiful voice! Like Grandma’s was.”

“I’ll leave the performing to you, Lou,” you said with a chuckle. She was serious, however.

“Work isn’t everything,” she reminded you. Now her voice was firm. “You should go out with your friends. Go out with Annie! Rub shoulders with her celebrity friends.”  

“Right.” You huffed a laugh. You’d been around plenty of famous supes while at Vought. You’d ran down the leads and tracked down the criminals, just for the supes to swoop in and “save the day.” You did the grunt work, and they claimed the credit. 

You’d had enough of “celebrities” to last you a lifetime. 

“Maybe then you’ll—and let me not shock you here—meet someone,” Louisa said. “And finally put an end to that goddamn dry spell. What's it been, like three years?” 

“All right, all right.” You held up a hand of surrender, even if she couldn’t see it. You were grateful she couldn’t catch you blushing. “That’s enough about my non-life, thanks.” 

You shook your head. Embarrassment actually clawed inside your belly. 

Yes, it had been a while since you’d actually been with anyone, relationship or otherwise. You just didn’t have time to have a life, you’d reasoned. Working at Vought had been grueling, and your hours at the S.A., while better, were still demanding.

…Still, you could appreciate that your work-life balance left much to be desired. And that was on you. 

Case in point, you were on this job.

You tipped your face heavenward, letting the sunrise spill some warmth on your face. 

“But…I hear you, okay?” you replied with your eyes closed. 

“You do?” she asked suspiciously.

“Yeah. When I get back, I…I’ll work on it, okay?” you said. “I love you.”

“Love you too, sis. I should probably get going, but…please be safe.”

“Always,” you promised.

After you hung up, you finally opened your eyes. 

That prickly feeling was back, almost like you were being watched.

You scanned around, but your human eyes didn’t find anything out of the ordinary in the sunshine pouring in between the rows of buildings. 

In fact, you didn’t see a damn thing that wasn’t supposed to be there.

So you clutched your phone to your chest, letting out a deep breath. Then you headed back inside.

But mere feet above you, if you had only looked up to the roof, you would’ve seen a hunter lazily eyeing his prey.

AN: Ok! So a little bit slow in this chapter, but it’s all important setup.

In the next chapter, the reader meets Soldier Boy:

You laid a hand on his chest, fingers spreading between the open buttons, and felt his warm skin. 

He glanced up at you with another challenging tilt to his head. What are you gonna do now?

You met that challenge, boldly leaning down to press a kiss against his lips.

Keep Reading: PART 2

Series Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @pallographsunspot @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @syrma-sensei @muhahaha303 @123passwort @xoxovienna @magnificentnightmarehadi @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @yvonneeeee @fckinel

#the game begins #soldier boy #the boys #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #the boys season 3 #soldier boy/ben x reader #the boys au #enemies to lovers #frenemies to lovers #private investigator!reader #billy butcher #hughie campbell #annie january #mother's milk #frenchie #kimiko #the boys amazon #break me down #part 1 #zepskies writes

[visionsofmagic]

― desired supe [chapter 13]

[previous chapter] [next chapter]

[masterlist]

a/n: even if homelander would be sub one in particular events and places (for example; bed), he is trying to be dom one for yn, so, we will see his this (especially exhibiting unpredictable behavior) side in this chapter. It gets spicy and will get spicier with each chapter from now on, so, hang on tightly, our journey is beginning! ;)

comments are apricated! & requests are open as well

enjoy the story! love. rose <3

summary of the chapter: Homelander’s liking on Y/n increasing too much to even make Butcher angry. With Homelander’s unexpected request from Y/n after questioning the supe, this causes Butcher’s nerve to be seen, leaving Y/n in an impasse.

word count for the chapter: 6.9k [chapters become larger with each publish but I give you certainty that this one would blow your mind. well, it blew mine, indeed.]

⇁ ⇁ ⇁

  When Butcher sent a message about his arrival to the tower’s nearby parking lot, Homelander was giving a speech to the team; “Supe will wake up soon.” His voice was dominant as always, “Me and Aerial will question him.”

He literally chose you over other members including the Deep. His liking on you was increasing from day to day. Choosing you over others, telling you about his day, wanting you meet with his son and not keeping himself from showing his feelings to you were this situation’s evidence. Anyone, including some workers of the company, had knowledge about this. They were seeing you all day, how Homelander share so much with you and how he keeps you by his side for most of the times. Some of them saw you as new friendship of the Seven due to Black Noir’s sudden disappear. They saw you as new version of Black Noir for Homelander. On the other hand, you could hear how some workers keep telling each other you had a secret relationship, you were a couple. They even compared you with his previous lovers like Queen Maeve and Stormfront. You knew if they would know how you could hear them, because they only talked about this when Homelander was gone, they wouldn’t talk so openly. However, you didn’t mind. They could say everything about you with showing respect, of course. So, when gossips about your and Havoc’s competition, as they called, were spreading among people, you didn’t make any comment. There was no competition for you. That’s why there was no reason to claim it as a true fact or not.

After Homelander’s decision, Havoc looked irritated. She moved on her seat, adjusting her posture from irritated one to charming. “Sir,” She took a stop between her words in order to see Homelander’s reaction which was just a blank face that turned to her, “I really would like to see you on work. With that, I can get some of your perfect questioning abilities as I believe. If you don’t mind, can I come too?” Her voice was rasping for you. You wondered what Homelander was thinking about her.

Eyes turned to the leader of the Seven, looking curiously, how he would react to Havoc’s request.

He looked at Havoc’s face, then, smiled, “Of course you can!” His voice sounded like a quite chuckle. Opening his hands, he said, “I always respect my teammates’ request. Everybody knows this.” He looked at the Deep, who was sitting right beside him, “Right, Deep?”

He nodded right away, “Of course sir! Everybody knows this.”

You caught how he and A-Train shared a look together, like they knew how Homelander didn’t give a shit about anyone’s requests or ideas rather than his own. He was the leader that made them cursing their life's again and again thanks to him. The Deep had respect and mostly fear about Homelander while A-Train looked just he needed something to hold in his lonely life. Before entering the team, you had done you research about each member, both previous and current ones. Entering the team without any knowledge meant walking on a rope that stayed between fire. So, you knew how the Deep and A-Train hadn’t anyone on their sides except the Seven and Homelander.

Homelander’s clap caught your attention from your mind to real life, “Everyone can go and do whatever fucking they should do for the company.” He waved his hand, “Ashley will inform you or whatever,” Turning to Havoc and you, he said, “Let’s go and finish this job already.”

When everyone went to different directions; MultiMan, the Deep and A-Train to Ashley’s room and you, Havoc and Homelander to the supe’s. However, you needed to find Butcher and made him turn into ghost mode before entering supe’s room, questioning him. When you entered to elevator along with Homelander and Havoc, you pushed an extra button, which was the ground floor of the tower. That made Homelander and Havoc turned to your direction, confused expression on their face. You shrugged, looking at Homelander, “I need to take a fresh air before seeing his face. What happened back there – “ You stopped talking when unforgettable memories about that place and people filled your mind, making your heart ache in pain. Your main aim was to meet with Butcher with this confession but it made you realize how much you needed to take a fresh air before questioning that cunt. So, you weren’t lying.

Homelander nodded slowly, “Don’t take so long.”

Then, elevator’s door opened. Homelander and Havoc left you alone in it and you clearly saw how Havoc looked so happy to spend alone time with Homelander, not you with his side. You rolled your eyes. How competitive of her. It was so weird though; how she wanted to be Homelander’s girlfriend. You knew there was something wrong about her stubborn. However, this was another time’s question to answer. Now, you had to meet with Butcher.

  Quick steps were making the ground under your feet scream. Powerful and fast pace towards Butcher was both because of making him wait so long and excitement. You surely missed him. It was nothing you could hide. Especially after spending so many times with him, you used to have him in your life. He was a man who was giving you courage to keep this mission. Homelander was making it harder for you to have a determined mind to make him pay what he done to your friend. But when Butcher came to the scene, he always was making you see how you should keep your words for him.

Your thought stopped when his back profile came into your sight. He was sitting on a bench, his black-colored glasses on his face, covering his piercing eyes from you.

With a gut that you felt suddenly after seeing his back, looking so touchable, you half hugged him from behind, resting your hands on his shoulders. Your head popped out of his left side, faces so close to make both of you blush. His masculine scent made you take lots of breaths, not wanting to waste any of it.

“Sorry for waiting.” You said, innocently, like you weren’t to one who took his personal space like it was nothing. As your gut began to decrease due to his speechless posture, you wanted to took your hands away from his shoulders but he just smirked when you were about to do it.

“Will I get a gift for that, hm?”

You rolled your eyes. He was clearly teasing you, referring some mature things like those ones he did yesterday, in front of whole team. “I can give you my signed picture card if you want.”

He placed his two fingers on your chin, “Who needs a picture when I got the real one, hon’?”

He was right. You were playing with fire. He was fire, burning you from head to toe but unlike any other fire, his wasn’t killing you. Instead, he was making you feel more alive. Fresh. Denying his effects on your body would be stupid of you. Even he could see how your body reacted his little touches.

Clearing your throat, you straighten your posture, “We need to get going. Homelander is waiting for me.”

As he stood up, leaving his body for you to turn it into ghost one, he cursed under his breath after hearing his name, “That cunt can wait a little bit longer.” He smirked, “I wonder how ya’ making him angry. Knowing someone as powerful as him would make that cunt’s confidence crumble.”

You wanted to tell him that you were far behind making Homelander angry with your presence. Homelander was neither angry nor annoyed. He was happy. He was glad that you were his side. However, telling Butcher all of these, Homelander’s wants to keep you on his side, between his arms and even in his heart, would cause some problem. He wouldn’t get jealous as you guessed because he wasn’t taking your relationship that much, as you knew. He would panic though. Thoughts about whether you would keep your promise about Homelander or not because of your closeness would chase him. The most awkward thing was that even if you knew you would keep your promise, it was hard to tell how long your determined stage would last.

You closed your eyes, turned him to ghost mode. Parking lot was empty and he chose a spot that cameras didn’t watch. You would look like you took some fresh air like you said.

When he looked over his body, he asked, “Will I be able to touch things this time as we discussed yesterday?”

You nodded, “It will consume more energy than normal ghost mode one but we will take it as an advantage.” You started to walk, keeping your phone on your ear like you were talking to someone but in reality you were doing this to talk Butcher without getting any attention. “If something happens there, you can easily get out of the building.” You faked a smile, “However, do not touch anything necessary because it will cause other get suspicious.”

He followed you as you entered the tower, nodding some workers who were polite and good people. “It would make that cunt freak out to see something moving in his sight.”

Images how Homelander would react to this on your mind made you chuckle, “That would be funny if it was certain that he wouldn’t blow off the whole place.”

Butcher nodded. Then, you closed your fake call, entering the elevator with Butcher on your side.

As elevator kept going higher, Butcher broke silence, “What’s that Havoc business?”

You furrowed, “What about it?”

He shrugged, “I saw her angry face in the news. She was looking at you like she wanted you dead.”

He was referring to news that filmed outside factory. You guessed reporters filmed every member of the team, especially you, Havoc and Homelander. It wouldn’t be surprise if they were trying to create a love triangle from it. Even if you didn’t see the news, you knew they added parts in which Homelander touched your cheek as your bodies were so close to each other. Butcher’s non comment on that specific event made you nervous. You calculated if you should say something about it or not.

You chose to say something in order to clarify that event. Also, that would make him get his answer as well.

“She is trying to take her place on Homelander’s side. As a co-captain like Annie or girlfriend I guess.” You took a deep breath, looking any other place rather than Butcher’s face, “Her dislike of me became bigger when she found out how Homelander treated me.” You gulped. The air was so awkward and you couldn’t keep going with your speech. Instead, you waited for Butcher to continue.

As your eyes met, he spoke, “He always liked getting love. Like Maeve and that Nazi bitch.” He sounded like he and Maeve were close. You were confused. You knew Maeve helped the boys but something was off with his way of saying her name, like it was a little bit awkward. You wanted to question him but his words cut you, “He doesn’t like people. Cunt just loves himself.” He shrugged, finishing his speech.

Was he right? Was Homelander just liked you because of your affection, love and sympathy that you showed to him? Why this statement’s high possibility of being a truth was hurting so much?

Being something Homelander like was dangerous. You didn’t want him to like you. Did you?

Dilemma was breaking you into two pieces. You heart was aching somehow. Silence you shared with Butcher wasn’t helping either.

These heavy emotions left your body when elevator’s door opened, making you realize your first mission. So, you slapped yourself inside your mind and stepped out of the elevator with Butcher.

People who were in that floor nodded to you, pointing the room that Homelander and Havoc waited. You nodded to Butcher, signaling him to be careful out there before opening the door. Homelander’s powerful, built body and Havoc’s smooth skinned and fit one came into your sight. The room was like those police departments had; having two separate rooms with a shared door, one is behind the huge window that looked like a mirror on the other side, and other one with a patient bed. The supe was awake as you could see from the window. Homelander and Havoc was watching doctors doing their jobs by giving him supplies. He didn’t look so bad anymore which caused you to want to beat him up again.

Trying to keep your anger in control, you took your place beside Homelander. Now, he was in middle while Havoc was on his left side and you on right. Butcher was right behind you. You could how his body was touching yours with a dangerous closeness. You realized how he had become more willing to touch you every time there was Homelander in the same room. Not wanting to get hopes, you asked to Homelander, “Can he speak?”

He nodded, “He better be. I don’t want to spend my time for some fucking stupid man anymore.”

Havoc said from other side, “Sir,” She was going to suggest something again. “Maybe Aerial should question him first. She was the one who beat him up. He is likely to speak with her by feeling anger.” She added, “I read an article about how anger makes people talk too much without thinking twice for their words.”

Even if her aim was to send you inside, making supe tell some secrets about you, she was telling truth. People were likely to speak out of control due to their sudden anger. It was clear that this supe had so much anger inside his heart due to being beaten up nearly to death by you.

So, you nodded in agreement, “She is right. And it would take less time and you can turn into your important business as well.”

Homelander looked at you then the supe, nodding, “Go ahead.” He took two steps to the window, to see inside closer while adding, “Don’t do something without my command.”

You nodded.

It would be hard to question him without making Homelander get knowledge of Stan Edgar’s secret business about the factory but it was worth to try. It was better for you to question him before anyone else, especially Homelander. Also, you had Butcher on your side. He was good at making people talk. He was your helper on this.

As you and Butcher’s ghost body entered the room, medics left, leaving you and the supe alone for bare eyes.

The supe’s wounds were healing. He was in better condition last time you saw him. Even though he was the one killed innocent people of the factory with such great power, he looked so weak now. He was at your mercy. Disobeying Homelander’s orders would cause problem this time but you could use some of your power in order to make him talk. Both you and Homelander knew it.

“Mad Max, is it?” You sounded so calm, not showing fire that began to appear inside your body.

He took one look at you, and that was all. He tried to break free from robes that hold him in his place, on bed. Anger was travelling in his eyes, hands shaking and sweats occurring on forehead.

Butcher smirked, “You really beat him to death, aren’t ya’?” He leaned on his back to wall that stayed on the left side of bed, looking down at supe’s weak body, “I really like ya’ when you make them know their places. They are just a bunch of weak bastards who thinks them something important when they could kill innocent people who had no power like them.” His smirk widened, “When they meet ya’, they realize how weak they are.”

When he finished his words, the supe began to talk, “You bitc –“

“Tch, tch, tch.” You stopped him. “Don’t make me beat you again,” You unified your arms on your chest, “Because I will not stop ‘till I kill you this time.”

He gritted his teeth. Being weaker than you caused his anger increase. It was same for every person but when women made men turn into weak creatures, they were having great rage inside their bodies. They were feeling so humiliated by that and that was something you liked about your power. You liked to show them how women could handle men.

“So, Mad Max,” You sat corner of his bed, near his feet. He tried to hit you with his bare feet but robes were making him hard to move freely. “You destroyed one of the factories that Vought held, killing innocent people – “

“Innocent?” He faked a laugh, “There were not innocent! You should give me a price for killing them.” He looked at your body from head to toe in disgust, “I could finish them all if you weren’t playing your hero act.”

You didn’t waste you effort to tell him you were indeed didn’t act. You wanted to save them.

“How workings for a company like Vought make them bad?”

Butcher said, “He wouldn’t tell to you.”

He was right. The supe became silent after your question. He was keeping his knowledge to himself and probably Homelander.

“I really don’t like repeating myself, Max. So, you should tell me what you know.” You faked a smile, “That would make you free from here sooner.”

You didn’t know how much he good at understand whether people were lying or not but from what was in your sight, you knew he didn’t buy your trick of giving him freedom. He probably knew how you wanted him death. How you had anger towards him as well. Mutual feelings caused you two to understand each other easier.

“Tell him Homelander wouldn’t come here. He is clearly waiting for him.” Butcher suggested, taking other side of the bed, standing on his feet and looking down at supe’s body.

“He will not come Max, if that’s why you are not speaking with me.” You shrugged, “He is the top of all of this,” You waved your finger around the room, referring to Vought, “He has more important things in his life than dealing with a supe who even disable to control his power.”

Butcher smiled at the way you were questioning him. He looked proud for a moment which makes you smile inside. “Now, wait for a time him to adjust this info. Then, mention Homelander again. He is a cocksucker like rest of them. Look at him, waiting for his daddy to speak.”

You nodded, looking like you did it to yourself but you were signaling Butcher that you got his hint. He was saying that the supe was like the rest of the team, being cocksucker for Homelander and not talking, moving or even breathing without his approval.

It was weird though. How this supe hadn’t interacted with Homelander but had great respect and slavery towards him. It was terrifying either. People like him would do everything Homelander tells without thinking twice. After his first real kill in public, Homelander’s maniac, sadistic and freak followers has began to increase. It was making your world turn into a darker place and you knew you had to take big fish’s head to prevent it to turn into total darkness.

“Don’t say that you really thought your insignificant presence would get attention of him with doing this?” You shook your head in disbelief.

You stood up, sighed, “How sad. You are literally waiting for his arrival while he has no idea about your presence.”

He furrowed, looking so desperate. Your acting was doing well because now you clearly saw how he dilemma. He even looked sad, “He must come!” He shouted. “He should know about this.”

“We are breaking him.” Butcher said, half nodding.

“I can speak with him.” You shrugged, “But I must give him some tangible information. We shouldn’t want to take his precious time, right?”

He nodded suddenly, “Of course not! He is our most precious thing in the world!” His voice lowered, “We shouldn’t take his precious time.”

Butcher and you were in shock. This person was a maniac. He was worship Homelander. You were just trying to make him speak with your respect towards Homelander but you didn’t except him to go this far with his love about him. How he was so attached to him? This whole situation was making you feel sick and you knew Butcher felt the same.

“He is the biggest cocksucker I have seen in my entire fuckin’ life.”

You wanted to tell him this was far beyond being a cocksucker. The supe really needed therapy, even more than rest of other members.

You tried to act like it was so normal, looking him with a straight face, “Then give me something to make him know how you are willing to see him.”

He nodded negatively, “You wouldn’t tell him. You tried to kill me! I don’t trust you!”

Butcher sighed, “Just give us something you fucker! I really want to beat him up now.”

In order to prevent any unwanted situation with Butcher being in ghost mode but able to touch, you took a step forward the supe, “Look,” You wanted him calm down. “I was thinking you attacked to factory in order to harm the company, to Homelander. But if your intentions are good, I will directly go to him and talk about your situation.” You smiled, fake as ever, “I just need to know you didn’t want to cause any harm to him. Our leader is important, as you see.”

You could feel Homelander’s burning eyes even behind windows that covered half of the room. He was piercing your back with his blue eyes. You knew how he felt with each word you said with praising him. These words were half-true and half-lie. He was important but your love for him not same as the supe or any other member. Your love for him was something different than simply being a royal teammate for him.

“Me? Harm for him?” The supe tried to defend himself, “I was doing it for him!” He then took a deep breath, looking more relaxed than before and ready to talk. So, you didn’t say anything, you just waited for him to continue.

As Butcher stood beside you, the supe began to talk, “They were doing something wrong. The workers of that factory I mean. I was watching them very closely after I found out they hide something behind the doors thanks to having a friend inside. He had suspicious and when he shared them with me, I wanted to look at because we thought they were going to do something to Homelander.” He sounded sad, like Homelander was his brother or something. Like they were trying to kill one of his family members. “And then I found out. They were really trying to damage the company and Homelander. I wanted to help him. So, I planned everything.” He was proud of himself. “I went there and killed every fucker who was in this whole thing.” You knew he killed those innocent people who had no idea. Vought was not a company who shared his secrets with every worker. They probably told some of them.

“Is he knows about Stan Edgar?” Butcher’s question made you ask this to him, in a secret way of course.

“Do you know what they were trying to do? Homelander is not someone that can be taken down as you know. No one can harm him,” Which was a lie because you knew how Queen Maeve and Soldier Boy hurt him and beat him as well as Butcher and Hughie, even a little. However, no one knew this other than the boys who told you about all this, making you and Aiden shock because you thought he was unbreakable. But at the end of the day, he wasn’t. “They should have something big to work on it behind closed doors.”

The supe shook his head, left and right, “I was going to learn it if you didn’t come.” His anger was increasing again and you had enough of his bullshit. So, you nodded, “Don’t worry. We will take care of the rest.” You smiled, “Now, rest.”

You should talk about this with Homelander who was waiting outside, without interrupting you. He was the one who would decide whether to free the supe or sending it to jail. You hoped he was going to second option but deep down, you knew he would let him go after he showed great attitude towards him even without knowing he was watching them.

Homelander must felt superior ever after seeing how there were people and supes who showed him this kind of royalty. He needed that and these freaks were giving him this. What a full of destruction world it has become.

“What about Homelander?” The supe asked when you opened the door a little to leave, “Will he come and see me?” He killed dozen of people. He had blood in his hands but he turned to a child who was waiting for meeting with his favorite superhero. Oh, how much you wanted to make him suffer in that moment.

As your hand stood on the door’s handle, and rage began to rise each passing second, Butcher realized how your face turned into red with anger. He stood in front of you, closing your view of the supe with his chest and concerned looking face, “C’mon,” His voice was not enough to make you calm, so, he held your arm with his left hand, and placed his other one on your chin, “Not here. We will deal with it later.” He added, “Alone.”

You tried to smile to the supe, feeling calmer thanks to Butcher’s strong aura that wrapped up yours, “I will inform him. Now, just rest.”

With that, you left the room, closing door behind. Havoc and Homelander was looking at you. Homelander’s face was filled with proud one while Havoc’s one was angry. Her plan didn’t work, again. She even made your image better in Homelander’s eyes.

“Well done, Aerial.” Homelander praise didn’t make you happy this time because he was the reason why you couldn’t make the supe suffer.

Havoc on the other hand, was closing gap between her and Homelander. Smile on her face, “I am happy to see that my plan worked, sir.” She wanted Homelander praise her too, clearly. Unlike your predictions, Homelander turned to her, smiling, “Well done for you too Havoc. Of course it was my idea to bring you two in here but you did well too.” His egoistic side was showing again and Butcher was so done with this.

“Cunt is in love with himself, I tell ya’.” You wanted to chuckle how Butcher put your thought into words. Homelander and his relationship was something you found funny.

With a look to Butcher, you gave him hint to putting your plan into action in which Butcher will walk in the building to get information thanks to his ghost mode and still being able to touch, and you will distract other people. As you informed from Ashley, today was Homelander’s ads shooting day, means he wouldn’t be in the building, allowing you enough space to act. But you knew he was going to say something you wouldn’t like as he dismissed himself from room with you and Havoc. His hands were on his back, as always. Cape shaking with each step from right to left, blonde hair looking a little messy, blue eyes searching the floor to see something interesting. “You can dismiss Havoc.” He said without looking back. If he looked, he would just see a frustrated face that Havoc had after hearing this words.

“But, sir, you said we will –“

Homelander cut her words, “Are you resisting my orders?”

“Of course not, sir.” You pitied her. She was trying so hard, giving him royalty and respect but in return, she was receiving humiliation. Her motives had to be something serious because she wasn’t stopping to act same even after Homelander’s harsh attitude towards her. Checking about her personal life a little was noted on your mind. You wanted to check in order to help her. Maybe she just needed a person to show how she didn’t need any praise or attention from him. She was a strong one. She had to have certain motives behind her plan or as you hoped, she had.

Extra blonde hair and blue eyes disappeared from sight. Now, there was only one, Homelander.

He didn’t turn to you ‘till you reached the elevator’s door, pushing a button to call it to floor. The long cape took off as he turned to you with a fast fast turnaround, hands resting on back, still. Blue eyes were traveling on your body, adjusting how outfit looked on you maybe for the 10th times already now. You got used to it anyway, how his eyes didn’t have any shame to looking at your body from here to there, sometimes more than enough. He was a man indeed who was horny as hell. He clearly had kinks, his gazes were giving enough proof of this.

As his looks didn’t go, you heard an angry ‘huh’ sound from your back. That’s was when you realized how Butcher was right behind you and Homelander front like before. You were tossed between their huge and tall bodies again even if one man didn’t know other’s presence. You wanted to ask why Butcher was angry now but it had to wait ‘till you reach the flat.

“You were really good at back there.” Homelander said as elevator kept going higher, to your floor. He wasn’t praising anymore. His voice was filled with smartness and wisdom somehow, making you a little nervous about why he became smart Homelander suddenly.

You tried to act normal, “Thank you. I can say I know how to make people talk.” You finished your sentence with a teasing smile which was clearly didn’t affect Homelander’s smartness. He was suspicious. You wondered what made him being suspicious about your ability back there.

He shrugged, “It was just beyond good, you know.” Butcher’s hands held you from your arms, firmly, like he was trying to give you power to stay still under Homelander’s dangerous state. His most dangerous side was being smart, not acting randomly or without thinking. Butcher had to know this too. That’s why his protectiveness increased, if you called this as it. “Did someone teach you about it or what?” His little chuckle made you shiver.

Butcher smirked, “If he knew.”

You shrugged, “It’s just comes naturally.”

He didn’t keep questioning as three of you entered the elevator. He pushed the button that would stop on the floor meeting room stayed. He took a glance from you, “I need to discuss something with you. Privately.”

Why this lonely session with him always happened when Butcher was there, in ghost mode? Homelander couldn’t see him, right? You chuckled to yourself inside your head, nervously. There was no way he could see him. Your ability was beyond his x-ray visions. Just people who you would turn ghost mode with them touching Butcher would be able to see him. In other words, people had to touch themselves in order to being able to see, touch and hear each other in ghost mode. That was something you were working on. You weren’t some lazy supe. In your free times, mostly at midnights when world became more silence and no one to disturb, you were strength the way your mind and power work. You were powerful, indeed but you needed to be more each day. If you would risk face and fight with Homelander, probably with other team members too, you had to gain the full potential.

  You reached at your destination in silence. Even Butcher didn’t say a word about this event. He knew he should go and search the place before your energy run out but he chose to stay on your side. He just said, “I will make sure the cunt don’t planning anything stupid.” You wanted to tell him that you were going to be okay and Homelander wouldn’t do anything stupid like hurting her. Even if his current state was a bit weird, you knew he wouldn’t lay a hand on you. Why you believed in him this much was another question you wanted to think later.

You noted that you should work on gaining an ability of talking with people who was in ghost mode throughout your mind connection. This would be so helpful for both of you and Butcher because this wouldn’t be last time you turned him to ghost mode.

Homelander showed you his seat. Wait, did he really wanted you to sit on his chair which no one was allowing to touch? Butcher didn’t look his gesture surprised him. He even looked like he knew what will come next. He has been known Homelander more than you thanks to their odd bond that became stronger with each year, each event. Especially, after having a common special person, Ryan.

“C’mon!” Homelander smiled, “Sit.”

He was so weird today. Two hours ago, he was so stable and good towards you but now, he was sounding like a maniac who had no control of his actions. Seeing his this side saddened you because you thought you was the only person on the team who he hadn’t act rude, hush and sadistic.

Without saying a thing, you sat down on his chair, leaned your back on to it in order to show Homelander how you didn’t feel fear if this was his plan to do, making you be afraid of him. Maybe he was get irritated from your determined confident state.

“So, Y/n,” His voice sent your core a sharp feeling. His strong grips rested on your shoulders. He wasn’t hurting you but he surely held you tightly. Butcher on the other hand stayed a step apart from your hand, ready to punch Homelander if he becomes harmful for you. You felt safe even if Butcher didn’t have any particular power against him. He was ready to fight with him without having power and for you, this was something powerful and admirable. “From what I learned, you are doing so well with your tasks.”

“I didn’t know you were checking on me.” How further he would go for following your actions?

He chuckled, “I am the leader of this team Y/n. Of course I would check on you as well as others.” Should you feel relaxed because of knowing you weren’t the only one who he was checking or nervous because indeed, he knew how you acted on your missions?

“Right.” You said, calmly. In order to don’t be so nervous around Homelander your eyes were fixed on Butcher’ calm face. Hearing your bumping heart beats would give him power.

Butcher took a glance from Homelander’s body behind you. “He is bluffing bluff. He will not do anything.” His hand touched your, rested on the table in front of you. His rough but warm hand made you took a deep breath. You were glad how he acted in this situation, not leaving your side, contrast, making you calm and relax. “He needs people around him. He can’t do shit without them. Includin’ you.”

While Butcher touch was giving you calm, Homelander’s one was giving treat. If there was any other person on your sit, except Butcher, they would freak out right now. Homelander’s aura was so heavy to carry for most of the people but not you.

Homelander bent over ‘till his mouth touched your left ear. You didn’t move. You even didn’t flinch to this closeness. Unlike feeling nervous, you felt some strange feelings on your chest, like excitement. Like liking this closeness but you shouldn’t have, especially Butcher was right in front of you, making you feel guilt for liking any second of Homelander’s touches last. Why you felt like this was wrong due to your relationship with Butcher even if you didn’t name it. You weren’t at a stage to give a name on it anyway and inner voices of your mind were telling you that you wouldn’t put a name no matter how much you wanted. William Butcher’s heart was belonged to his dead-wife. Still.

Homelander’s very close voice caught your attention from your thoughts to him, “However, you are different.” He sounded genuine. “You are not the rest of them, a bunch of useless individuals who calls themselves as hero.” He shook his head negatively, “No, no, no. You are not like them.” Somehow he was different. He was so open with you right now and he was being sincere about his thoughts. “You are much more like me.”

“No, you are not.” Butcher added.

“They are not able to understand your power. But I do.” His two fingers held you by chin, lifting you head up to make your eyes meet with his shiny blue eyes. Butcher’s face was no longer in your sight but you felt how his hands run from your hand to arm. His other free hand touched you from your thigh. Both of them were so fucking close. They were touching you with different motives. Homelander’s motive was to make you focus on him more, and his liking on touching you wasn’t a secret. On the other hand, Butcher’s motives were blurry for you. You couldn’t tell why he was became this possessive about you after Homelander’s touch on your chin.

Even though you wanted to deny, their touches didn’t irritate you, instead, you liked both. What a sick situation you were in. Aiden would freak the fuck out if he was here.

However, he wasn’t. There was no one in this huge room except you and two men whose touches were burning your skin alive.

With hearing your heart’s new fast beat rhythm, Homelander smirked, “We are the only one who can understand each other.” Why his words sounded true? “You and I. Together, we can make a great team.” He was asking you to take place on his side, permanently, and the one which the whole world would know. He was asking you to be his right-hand man, maybe more than that.

“That cunt is lying, Y/n,” Butcher’s voice got your attention from Homelander’s both beautiful and attractive face to him. Wait, did you find Homelander attractive? What the hell was going on with you?

You took a deep breath while Homelander’s didn’t move even an inch, still making his hot breaths hit your pink colored face, and holding you from chin, gently this time. His blue eyes were traveling on your heated up face. From this close, you could see your own reflection from his eyes.

You wanted to break free from his touch because Butcher’s heavy breaths were filling your ears, trying to take your attention. “He will get rid of you as soon as you done something wrong like he did to others.” Was this true? Were you some doll for him to use ‘till you become useless like rest of them? Even if logical side of your brain told you Butcher was telling truth, a deep and low voice hit other facts to your face; facts that you wanted be different in Homelander’s eyes.

You had to get out this situation, “Homelander –“

From your voice tone, he understood that you were going to say no. That’s was when he shush by saying, “No, no.” He smiled, caressing your chin, still gently to your surprise, “I will give you time to think and you will think.”

When you didn’t respond, his hold became stronger, “Right?”

You wanted to say ‘no’. You wanted to say him that you couldn’t do this to Butcher and the boys. You shouldn’t.

However, you couldn’t say a single word to him as a negative respond. You just nodded, making him put a proud and succeeded smile on his face. Butcher’s hold on your body lost their full force. You didn’t want to upset him. But there was no logical other way to get rid of this situation any sooner.

“I will inform Ashley when you come with an answer to me.” He was thinking you was going to say ‘yes’ after your inner discussion. “Don’t make me wait, Y/n.” He said, and with one last caress to your chin, he straightened his posture. You had to look up to see his face. He smiled at you. Then, he left the room slowly. You waited ‘till hearing his flying from tower to somewhere else which was about 4 minutes at total.

After hearing it, you took deep breaths. Butcher was no longer touching you, instead, he was standing in front of you, looking at your face with an unreadable expression like always but it felt heavier this time.

“I –“

When you began to talk in such guilt as he heard as well, he nodded, “Not now.” He said, “We will discuss it when we reach the flat. Now, we have to act according to plan.”

With his last warming looking about closing this case right now, he began to walk towards doors, you behind him.

Questions were biting your whole mind with their hunger, but one of them was eating you alive; why you both felt guilt and love at the same time. Guilt for the man who was your safe and calm zone and love for the last person you should be with in the whole world.

<3

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