#supe!reader

[hom3landr]

Martyr Complex

18+

CW: CNC and Painplay

Homelander x Supe Reader

“If you were in my position, what would you do to you?”

You asked for this. That’s what you tell yourself as you sit alone in the pitch black room. Your wrists ache from where they’ve been tied to the chair, some special Vought invention wrapped around your wrists to suppress your abilities. All the buzz that normally overwhelms your mind is eerily silent. Everything you feel is you. Which means you’ll have no edge when he finally comes to you.

You test your restraints but they remain as unyielding as ever despite your superhuman strength. You’re not sure how long you’ve been in this cell. You’re pretty sure it’s been over an hour but time seems to move funny in the dark. You’re sure he’s laughing as he watches you squirm. For all his power, he loves to play mind games, loves to pick away at someone till they are weak and exposed. You’re a perfect target.

Heavy footsteps echo outside the door and your body breaks out into a cold sweat. Your suit sticks uncomfortably to your damp skin and it only adds to the sensation of being trapped. You hadn’t expected to be so rattled but the reality of everything makes you realize what you’ve gotten yourself into.

You asked for this

You wince in pain as the door opens, causing the room to be flooded by the residual fluorescent light of the hallway. Your eyes need a moment to adjust so all you’re able to make out is a menacing blur in the doorway. You don’t need to make out any features to know exactly who decided to join. Homelander has finally arrived.

The anxiety from before remains but the sight of Homelander’s stern face and rigid posture cause heat to pool between your legs. It’s a confusing juxtaposition and your body doesn’t know whether to attempt an escape or beckon him closer. Not that you’re currently able to do either. You’re chained and entirely at his mercy…if someone like him even has mercy. He tilts his head appraisingly and you try to swallow past the ever-growing lump in your throat.

He’s terrifying.

He raps sharply on the edge of the doorframe three times and that’s when you know the game has begun.

He flips a switch, lighting up the room with more of that fluorescent glare. The room is plain and the white walls give it a clinical atmosphere that sets you on edge. Your eyes are finally starting to properly adjust but you think you’d prefer the comfort of the dark. At least then you wouldn’t be able to see the cold way he stares at you, as though you’re simply an annoying rock in his shoe. You feel so small in his presence. With your mental powers dimmed, you only have your strength to protect you. You know that won’t be enough. You grasp the icy metal arms of the chair you’re bound to until you feel it start to give under your fingers. It’s not enough to release you but the effort helps steady your mind. You desperately need some stability now that he’s closing the both of you off from the outside world. The gentle thud of the door closing causes you to jolt slightly.

“Fancy seeing you here!” He exclaims with a smile that bares a little too much fang for your comfort. He’s talking to you like he just ran into you on the street. It’s scarier than if he went right into the meat of things. He’s pacing around the chair, causing you to twist painfully if you want to keep him in your field of vision. Who knows what he’ll do when he’s out of your sight.

“It’s such a coincidence. It’s not like you had Noir shove my head in a bag and hide me away or anything.” You spit out. You’ll play the game. You’ve come this far, even though the way his cheek twitches makes your chest tight.

“I just brought you here to have a little chat. Teammate to teammate. After all, It’s my job as your captain to make sure your performance is satisfactory and I’m sorry to say, you’ve fallen just short of the finish line” He tuts at you like a disappointed parent.

“Are you going to tell me what I’ve done wrong or do you wanna continue to play coy?” You shift in your seat as you try to ignore the anxious flutters in your stomach from being the focus of his undivided attention. There’s an intensity to him that makes even casual exchanges feel charged and this is far from casual. You’re at his mercy and you both know it.

“I hand picked you for the Seven. Did you know that? You had such…promise. I’m reluctant to admit it but we’ve had some weak links make it into the Seven. But you…you were supposed to be different.” He finally settles behind you, resting his hands heavy on your shoulders. “I mean…your powers?! Being able to predict everything that will happen within a short timespan? Pretty useful if you ask me.”

“Yet I’m still tied to a chair.” You grumble, looking down at the innocuous silver bands that have robbed you of your ability to know what’s coming. You’re unnerved that Vought either had them laying around or Homelander got them specially made. Neither of those options are reassuring.

“Look, nobody is perfect. Except maybe me but certainly not someone like you. I expect a few mistakes now and then but leaking confidential information?” His grip on your shoulders tightens as he lectures you. You’d have bruises if you weren’t a supe. Now that you know the angle he’s going with, it’s easier to relax into the role. The anxiety is still there but you have your bearings

“I didn’t leak shit!” You reply angrily, trying not to flinch away from him when he leans down. You can feel the warmth emanating from his body and you break out into goosebumps. There’s always been something about his scent that makes you feel a little wobbly. You remember your first meeting where he shook your hand and the subtle smell of his cologne made your knees shake. The sudden shock of arousal amidst the nervous pounding of your heart makes you lightheaded.

“Watch your language, Dear. You don’t want me to lose my temper.” He practically growls in your ear. The most delicious chill goes down your spine and some of your initial terror is being replaced by the hot aching pulse between your legs. Not knowing what’s coming next is freeing even while you’re still restrained. It’s like the first time Homelander took you flying.

“I’m pretty sure it’s too late for that. So just get on with torture. You won’t get anything out of me!” You snarl at him. He stiffens and you brace yourself for what comes next. You’re surprised when he chuckles darkly, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. One gloved hand leaves your shoulder to wrap around your throat from behind, he’s not cutting off your air yet but the pressure makes you dizzy regardless. Your nipples perk up under the thin white spandex of your suit and there is no way that he doesn’t notice.

“I think I will. I think you’ll be begging to reveal all your dirty little secrets once I’m done with you.” He growls.

Your stomach drops like you’d just crested the hill of a rollercoaster. He’s scary. He’s scary and it almost scares you with how much you like it. You find yourself taking deeper breaths, just to feel the press of his hand. You almost forget that you’re here to play a role.

“Do it then. Get fucking creative because I can’t tell you things I don’t know.” You retort. His grip on your throat doesn’t tighten but he adjusts so his thumb is pressed directly over your pulse. It’s a silent reminder of how truly vulnerable you are, he doesn’t need to use strength when simply the knowledge of his power is enough to set your heart pounding. His other hand finally leaves your shoulder to roughly pinch your hardened nipple. You squeal at the unexpected assault and flush when you feel the way your suit now clings to your needy cunt.

“You asked for it, I don’t want to hear you whining later when my creativity is too much for you” He’s fucking purring while you’re squirming and dripping all over the shiny metal of the chair you’re bound to.

He leans down once more to nip at your pulse, making sure you feel the graze of his teeth against the tender skin. He’s starving for it. He can’t fucking wait to show you just what he’s capable of.

“Tell me, if you were in my position, what would you do to you?”

You know exactly what you’d do.

“Spank me and send me to bed without supper.” You scoff, despite the way that you’re trembling. He snorts, nuzzling against your temple as if he wasn’t already scheming about how to punish you. He rubs gentle circles around your still tender nipple.

“That’s what you want? You want Daddy to spank you? Hmmm. I’m sorry, I just don’t trust you to be a good girl while I put you over my knee. Any other suggestions? I’m all ears.” He chuckles while your own ears go up flames at his bold statement. He’d never called himself that before and it makes you feel all hazy and uprooted.

“I thought you were going to be creative? It looks like I’m doing all the work.” Your voice trembles more than you’d like. He doesn’t answer right away, he just hums as he continues to toy with your nipple. His hand finally leaves your throat, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear almost tenderly.

“Did you know that historically when children were naughty, it was common to make them pick their own switches for their punishment? See, it wasn’t the punishment itself that was anything novel. It was the anticipation of being complicit in your own destruction. So you will tell me how you should be punished and when you’re begging for mercy, you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.” His voice lowers to a growl and fuck, You really underestimate how clever Homelander can be when he really sets his mind to something. You don’t have to look at him to picture the smug curve of his lips and the dark twinkle in his eye.

FUCK

You’re gonna have to choose, aren’t you?

“I want you to spank me” You spit out through gritted teeth. Shame twists in your gut despite the fact that he’s definitely spanked you before. But something about this feels different…dirty.

He hums, taking a moment to straighten up. Every slow footstep as he walks around to the front has you fighting the urge to flinch. He stops, arms held imposingly behind his back, erection straining against suit, and softly smiles as he takes in your vulnerable state. Despite still being fully clothed, you’re still completely bare before him. People joke that they feel like someone is undressing them with their eyes, but Homelander literally can.

“Are you sure? I think you can do better than that” He clicks his tongue as he looks down his nose at you. You swallow thickly.

“Please, I want you to spank me. I…I want you to spank till I behave.” You plead, face all prickly and hot. You cringe at your own begging, especially when Homelander throws his head back with a throaty laugh. You don’t miss the way his cock twitches at your pleading. He’s practically bursting at the seams but he seems perfectly content to drag out your humiliation.

“You’re gonna have to ask really nicely if this is what you want.” He smirks, eyes roaming your body. “How can I trust you to behave when you can’t even remember your manners?”

You flinch once you realize what he’s getting at. You test your restraints one more time but once more all it proves is that you are helpless to his whims.

“I want Daddy to spank me” You whisper, the heat building low and syrupy in your stomach. There’s a dark twinkle in his eye that twists your insides into knots. It’s the same one he has before he fucks someone over. It’s the same one he has when the person on the other end should expect to have a very bad time.

Fuck

You chose wrong

You resist the urge to flinch when he cocks his head. You reach for your powers, desperate to feel that familiar warning prickle, that peek into the future that allows you to stay ahead of any opponent. Instead, there’s just ominous silence and that ever present aching throb between your legs. It’s both freeing and smothering at once. The cold metal suppressing your powers is both torture and salvation. Homelander is the cruel judge who will decide which way the scale will lean. You’re the sacrificial lamb, your weeping cunt anointing the altar upon which your fate will be sealed.

“Thaaaaat’s better.” He croons, his voice soft and condescending…and poisonous. “Only I think you forgot one teeny tiny detail. I don’t trust you to be a good girl while I put you over my knee. So I guess this will just have to do”

Before you have time to process his reply, he crouches and rips a hole in the crotch of your suit with all the effort of someone tearing wrapping paper off of a present. You gasp as the cold air hits your wet, vulnerable, sensitive cunt that is now the focus of his conniving gaze. Your breath starts to catch in your chest with every exhale. You can’t squirm. You can’t hide yourself from him. Time slows to a stop and when Homelander finally moves, it seems to happen in slow motion as he raises his hand.

SLAP

You wail

He brings his gloved hand down once more upon your smarting clit and the sound it makes is obscene. The hot burning sting only increases as he presses his palm against you, the leather soft as you sob at the intensity of the sensation. You know he’s holding back his strength but it doesn’t feel like it. His strikes were ruthless and calculated. You struggle to catch your breath as he pulls back to administer another harsh slap.

“Awwww I made you cry…and here I thought you wanted me to get creative.” He chuckles at the tears beginning to stream down your cheeks. He’s so mean as he gives you exactly what you asked for. After all, it’s not his fault you didn’t specify where you wanted him to spank you.

The most humiliating part of this whole ordeal is not the indignity of the act but rather how each strike sounds more and more wet. Despite the pain, your clit is swollen and desperate under his touch, craving anything he is willing to give you. He alternates between short precise attacks on your clit and open palm smacks on your dripping hole. He chuckles at the way you start to lean into the pain despite how red and inflamed your cunt has become.

One spank, not even a particularly ruthless one, pushes you to your breaking point and you come, writhing helplessly in your bonds. It hurts so bad but fuck. There is a nasty part of you that loves being used like this. You’ve forgotten that you’re playing a game, too strung out on his touch.

You’re pulled out of your haze by Homelander holding his hand in front of your face. The leather is dripping and despite how far gone you are, your face still burns sharp and hot at the pure obscenity of it. Homelander’s cheeks are the tiniest bit flushed but you know better than to assume it’s out of exertion. He’s feeding off of you, soaking in your pleasure like a drug. It belongs to him and he thrives on that ownership. You wouldn’t be surprised if he’d already come in his pants just from spanking you.

“You’ve made a mess. Clean. It. Up.” He demands, pressing his wet palm to your mouth until you begin to lick your own come off his hand. You close your eyes as you taste yourself, whining pitifully. You’re so engrossed by your task that you don’t see the way his eyelids flutter as he fights to stay in control instead of ravishing you the way he wants. He can tell by the way that your eyes have glazed over that you’ve long lost sight of the role you’re supposed to be playing. It’s unprofessional but he supposes that he can indulge you. He’ll just have to make sure to give you a few acting lessons before Vought inevitably gives you a film of your own.

He taps your cheek roughly three times. You blink hazily as you are distracted from your task.

“How are you holding up Champ? We’re just getting started” His smirk is wicked but his eyes are serious. He waits for you to get your bearings and makes sure your eyes have regained a bit of focus before he raises his eyebrow in an unspoken question. You aren’t quite capable of coherent speech yet but you tap your foot three times in reply. He nods and just like that, the game is back on.

“I’m not…” You have to take a pause as your mouth catches up to your brain. He’s giving you a breather but his expression tells you he’s far from finished. “I’m not telling you anything.” You hiss.

He smiles, in the way that a chimpanzee bares its teeth as a sign of aggression. Isn’t that fitting?

“Whoah Kiddo! I gotta say, I can respect the can-do attitude. It’s that gumption that made me want you for the Seven. The fact that you turned into such a disappointment truly breaks my heart.” His voice drops to a low growl as he unbuckles his belt with a loud clink. “Well if you don’t feel like talking…I’ll just have to find another use for that mouth.”

He pushes his pants down just far enough to free his swollen cock. It’s dripping and flushed painfully red. He bounces slightly on his heels in anticipation of finally giving the poor thing some attention. He was hard from the start but seeing, hearing, smelling you come was almost too much for him. But despite your own growing hunger, you clamp your mouth shut and glare at him.

He clicks his tongue at you before reaching out to pinch your nose, patient enough to wait till you had no choice but to gasp desperately for air. He gives you a second of reprieve before shoving his cock into your open mouth. He’s very aware of how much you can take and he groans as he slides himself into your throat. He nestles your nose against the hair at the base of his cock, luxuriating in the feeling of your hot mouth wrapped around his cock. You’re well and truly trapped. You can’t even grasp onto him for leverage as he begins to throughly fuck your face. He’s not gentle. He doesn’t ease you into it. He’s going to give you exactly what you asked for when you approached him with this depraved little game. After all, he’s The Homelander, isn’t he supposed to serve the people?

A thin line of spit connects your mouth to his cock when he pulls out, and your face is on fire at how lewd you know that you look. He swipes it with his thumb before sucking the saliva off his glove with a satisfied grunt.

“Y’know, all this effort has caused me to work up an appetite.” He smirks before effortly breaking the bonds that held you confined to the chair. You bolt, dashing for the door in a mad effort to free yourself. But you only have half a second of hope before he wraps his arm around your waist and yanks you back against his unyielding body. You squirm but you can’t escape as he rips the rest of your suit into tatters. He cruelly pinches your nipple before shoving you to the floor and crawling over you.

His balls rest heavily on your forehead, still slick from the mess you made with his cock down your throat. He doesn’t have to force your mouth open, one slow lick to your raw clit has you groaning, his cock slipping back in as easy as anything. You have no choice but to take what he gives you, head firmly bracketed between his thighs.

Homelander is ruthless with his mouth, sucking your swollen aching folds until you’re practically screaming around his cock. It hurts but you can’t help but melt into the wet heat of his mouth as it both soothes and ignites. You come against his tongue before you can even comprehend doing it but he doesn’t skip a beat, driving you further and further into insanity as he feasts on you. He groans at the taste and you can feel him throb ominously against your tongue. You gag wetly around him and he shudders, nipping at your thighs as he fights to regain control. He’s close but he refuses to give you a reprieve until he makes you come again.

You wrap your arms around his waist, needing that support as he fucks you stupid. You come again, feeling him smile around your throbbing clit as he continues to suck rudely on the swollen bud. It addles something in your brain and when Homelander comes, it doesn’t even register that he’s so far down your throat you can’t even taste it. You come again and even while riding his own waves of pleasure, he can’t help but giggle at how thoroughly you belong to him.

He holds himself there, despite the orgasm beginning to fade into overstimulation. He only retreats when he hears three quiet raps against the floor. He sits up, softening cock leaving your lips as you cough wetly. You look thoroughly used and debauched. He watches you closely but you haven’t said the word yet. So he waits.

Your voice is raspy when you repeat your safeword, signaling the game has officially run its course.

Homelander takes quick action, scooping you up into his arms. He quickly grabs a blanket that you just now notice was folded up in the corner. He wraps you up tight, the soft fabric both comforts and conceals you from any eyes that might spy the two of you as Homelander carries you back to his penthouse. A warm feeling blooms in his chest as you snuggle into him, dispelling some of the building anxiety that maybe he went too far. He places a gentle kiss on your forehead as he opens his door with one hand. There is a nervous energy to him that you know won’t truly fade until you’ve assured him that you enjoyed every single thing he did to you.

He lays you on the bed, uncaring if you dirty the sheets. He quickly unlocks the metal around your wrists that suppress your powers and you sigh at the returning buzz. People think you can see the future but that’s not true. You are simply capable of processing vast amounts of surrounding data at once in order to make accurate predictions about what will happen next. In fact, you can feel the warmth of his hands several moments before he rubs the stiff muscles of your neck. You can hear his voice rumble seconds before the words leave his lips. It’s comforting but also what drove you to this point.

Once upon a time, Homelander was the one person you couldn’t predict. He was intimidating and exciting. Your life was mind numbingly boring until he came along. So maybe you became a little obsessed with him. You adored not being able to predict what would come next. But you fell hard and so did he, and with love came understanding, with understanding came knowing, and with knowing came the buzz. You don’t regret the loss of novelty but you couldn’t help but miss the thrill. So you asked for it back and he gave it in spades.

Now the buzz is a soothing comfort as he rubs away your aches. If you happen to foresee some cuddles and sweet talk in your future? Well, who are you to complain about that?

#homelander #x reader #homelander x reader #You ever have the writer version of post nut clarity? #supe!reader #definitely the longest thing I’ve ever written #and it’s pure FILTH

[all-alone-he-turns-to-stone]

One Mistake

Billy Butcher Masterlist

Summary: Homelander got you. According to him, Butcher made one mistake, and it was to fall in love with you. He thinks you’re his weakness. But it’s actually the opposite, he makes you stronger. Jokes on Homelander, he’s the one that made a mistake by bringing you here...

Pairing: Billy Butcher x F!Reader

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 1728

Warning: Violence, sequestration, blood, mouth bleeding, fight, humiliation, fluff, soft!Butcher, you’ll feel satisfied reading this

A/n: This fic was requested and I had so much fun with it! (you’ll see why!!)

“Butcher made a mistake. One, single mistake.”

The room was cold. The open window behind you was letting the night breeze enter right on your bare skin, causing strong shivers to fill your skin with goosebumps. You knew why he made you undress down to your undergarments before tying you to the chair, and it wasn’t to freeze you to death.

Humiliation.

Homelander loved to humiliate people, make them feel like utter shit. Because his whole life was spent trying to please the public. Trying to make everyone love him. But instead, disappointment and humiliation were leaving a trail of shame behind him, wherever he went.

So of course, he wanted to humiliate you to feel superior.

“I can’t believe he didn’t learn his lesson with… Hm, what’s her name again… His whole revenge is because we fucked and I got her pregnant. Becky?”

“Becca,” you spat. The name of the person Butcher lost. That scar he dragged with him that would never heal. You had a similar scar and knew how much it hurt. All those nights dreaming about them, only to wake up with the other side of the bed empty and cold. “Her name was Becca.”

Homelander opened his mouth in an O, his brows raised as he nodded. “Right. I thought he would learn not to have another person in his life after her.”

You scoffed, not at all impressed by the hero. You stopped being scared ever since you lost your husband. Ever since you met Butcher. By his side, you felt powerful, like nothing could hurt you.

He was the first man you allowed to love since your husband.

One moment, Homelander was pacing in front of you, his cape moving fluidly behind him, a look of disappointment in his face. The next, his despicable figure was inches away from you, one of his gloved hands around your throat. “Because I love to snatch them away from him.”

The smile of a maniac stretched your lips, your eyes wide as you sent your forehead right in his face. Pain exploded in your head as it collided with his, but you ignored the throbbing, the smile still living on your lips.

Confused, Homelander stepped back, touching his face to be sure there was nothing. Then, his blue, icy eyes laid on you and he frowned. “Why did you do that?” He shook his head. “I’m invincible, you only bruised your face. Are you fucking stupid?”

“I’ll tell you something,” you spat on the floor, some blood mixed in your saliva. A grin stretched your lips as you knew what it meant. “This whole thing… When you saw me with Butcher the other day, kissing, me telling him how scared I was of you. That night you knew I would walk home alone.” You tilted your head to the side, blood now running down your chin.

“What?” Homelander asked, not so amused anymore. His gaze was resting on your chin, not understanding how headbutting him could make you bleed so much from the mouth.

You leaned towards him, your teeth red as your smile widened. “It was all planned. Do you think we were on that street at the same time as you by accident? Do you think that phone call I had, when I said I had to walk alone the next day… Loud enough for anyone nearby to hear… Do you think it was a coincidence?”

Homelander shook his head, his lid spasming in confusion. Nervosity filled his face. “It’s…”

“I wanted you to kidnap me, actually. See, that was your only mistake…” The rope that was bounding you to the chair snapped as you moved your arms. You stood up, now free of your restraints. Your eyes burned as they lit up red and lasers shot from them, hitting Homelander right in the chest. It was so violent, his body was pushed back strong enough to create a hole in the wall. You walked to where he was, still on the floor, his costume fuming where the laser hit him. Confused, he didn’t even think of getting up, he just stayed there and stared at you. “Your mistake was to think I was the poor little girl that fell in love with the wrong guy. Your mistake,” you stood above Homelander and crouched to grab him by the collar and lifted him off the ground, “was to think me headbutting you was to hurt you. See, I was made in a laboratory, just like you,” you threw him as far as your new strength allowed you, creating another hole in the wall from the impact. “I was created as a… contingency plan, if you prefer!” You shouted to be sure he heard you. 

Homelander was back on his feet and already flying towards you, his eyes red with anger. “Who the fuck are you!” He shot lasers at you, but you only used your own laser to counterattack. It hurt and you felt more blood pouring in your mouth. 

He was very strong.

Feeling you were about to fall under his attacks, your body feeling weaker by the minute, you flew towards him and kicked him hard in the groin. Homelander fell to the floor once more, holding his family jewels, his face deformed in pain.

“All I needed to do was touch you… Skin on skin… But with that stupid costume, it’s almost impsosible to have skin to skin contact with you. It was either I hit your face or let you rape me. And I didn’t feel like being disappointed by the small thing you call a dick,” you mocked, waiting for him to get up again.

“Shut the fuck up! It’s impossible!” Homelander shouted, throwing furniture at you. You avoided them without any problem. “I am unique! I can’t be copied!!”

“You’re a knock off,” You spat again on the floor. “Stan Edgar created me with your DNA, just in case you get too much to handle. But then, it turned out… I wasn’t special, so he threw me away. See, we have that in common! Except, after that I lived on my own,” you shrugged. “I got married. I was happy. And then, one day, Supes broke into my house. They were wasted, drunk and high as fuck. My husband tried to stop them and well, they started beating him up. I hit one trying to save him, that’s when it started. I copied his power,” you smiled, knowing full well Homelander didn’t care about your sad story. 

“I don’t care! I’m gonna fucking kill you either way!” He yelled, his eyes red again, ready to go for another round. You didn’t know if you could handle more of his lasers, yes, you could copy his powers, but your body wasn’t as used as him. Copying powers always left a bitter taste on your tongue, and he had the strongest super powers you ever had to copy.

He had his powers ever since he was a baby. You got them 3 minutes ago.

“I know,” you smiled as, around your wrist, your watch beeped. “But I didn’t share my story for you to pity me… It was to buy some time.”

The red in his eyes was extinct the moment he understood. It wasn’t like you didn’t tell him, after all… That whole thing was a set up. 

Only a second later, there was something covering his mouth and toxic gas filling his lungs. Homelander tried to fight, but Kimiko was holding him as best as she could. You joined her, your arms circling around his body, squeezing with all of your strength. M.M was holding the mask on his mouth while Frenchie was a bit behind, another mask in his hands in case the first one wasn’t enough.

Homelander’s scream got lost in the gas mask as it was impossible for him to get it off. His anger was so strong he almost got free a few times, but you held on, only a couple of seconds more…

“Can he fucking fall already?!”

Finally, the gas started working and his body fell limply to the floor. 

You look at the hero laying on the floor. Motionless. Vulnerable.

Fuck, you hated him so much.

“Motherfucker,” you kicked him in the stomach with all of your strength- well, his strength, for that matter. His body jolted a little bit, and you were about to hit him again when a voice stopped you.

“Luv. He can’t hurt you anymore, ye? It’s alright.”

Warmth covered your shoulders as Butcher put his coat around you. You completely forgot you were almost naked. Frenchie put his hand on his eyes the moment you met his gaze and you smiled at the gesture. What a gentleman.

Hughie arrived right after and stopped near the entrance, his head turned away to avoid looking at you. “Wow! You’re almost naked. Okay. Wow. Homelander is down. Awesome. Alright. Mallory is on her way with the cryogenic box. Since it worked with Soldier Boy, it’ll be able to keep Homelander down. At least until they find a way to better get rid of him.”

“Good… Good to know,” you muttered, suddenly feeling weak. It was done. It was over. Homelander was down, they would take care of him like they did with Soldier Boy.

God, it was done.

Relief washed over you, your legs giving out. Strong hands caught you immediately.

“Easy there… Knew taking his power would be too much for y’a,” Butcher tsked, helping you sit down on the floor. He kneeled next to you.

“Yeah… you were right,” you coughed in your hand and smiled. You knew there was blood in your palm but it didn’t matter. “But beating the shit out of him and seeing the fear in his eyes? Fuck, it was so worth it.”

“I know luv. I know.” Butcher stroked your arm softly, his face burying against your neck. “Hope you’ll never need it again.”

You smiled at the gesture of affection. Butcher usually never showed it when there were people around. Showing a softer side of him? Hell no. But he kept his head there and his arms around you, holding you softly against him.

“Awn, you two are so cute eh. I want a hug too. Petit Hughie?”

“No thanks- Oh, you’re going for a hug anyway- Oh, Kimiko too? Alright then.”

Forever taglist: @nitnat6245​ @b3autyfuldisast3r​ @eevvvaa​ @fictional-affairs​ @wickedinspirations​ @awkward-and-indecisive​ @cryptichobbit​

#the boys fanfiction #billy butcher #Billy Butcher x reader #billy butcher imagine #billy butcher x you #billy butcher x y/n #the boys fanfiction homelander #homelander #the boys homelander #homelander getting his ass kicked #badass reader #supe!reader #billy butcher x supe!reader

[seeds-and-sins]

Could I request a fic with homelander & a female reader, whom was brought in as a child to basically be John's "little doll". Perhaps they reinforced her body and made her "durable" so she wouldn't break easily. Also I think it'd be interesting if she had powers like Mantis where she can completely understand and influence emotions (with direct physical contact). And that, that's why Vought created her for John in the first place, so that he "would have something to love and that would love him back". she also has a strong dependence on John cuz she fears abandonment, loneliness, and being betrayed so her way of expressing her feelings to him is by displaying physical contact and constantly letting John know how much she loves "belonging" to only him and how much she loves him, pulling him aside to simply hug him since all she wants is to be "closer to him".

Sadly Earth Scene

Paring: Homelander x F!Reader

Rating: M (WARNING: Abusive relationship!!! And brief mentions of sexual content. Also, Cursing.)

Description: You were a project, never meant to aspire for anything more than servitude. Your whole life depended on him, your whole existence. What would you ever do without him?

Author's Note: Finally! I am crying inside because it took me way too long to get this finished. I wrote it at least three different ways and then I decided to just mesh all those different options into one. I hope it's worth it because I definitely know the asker has been waiting for this. I actually might even pursue a second part, but life is killing me right now. We will see what the tide brings in. Enjoy!!!

Rats, mice, monkeys, cats, dogs, animals of all species, of all shapes and sizes, have been used in the name of science for centuries. Vogelbaum's main studies focused with that of rats and mice, the pharmaceutical industry realizing that those particular animals were most akin to their needs. Monkeys being too loud, sometimes too big, not quite biologically meeting the parameters of what Vogelbaum was attempting to accomplish. Rats and mice, small rodents, reproduced and grew at an efficient rate. Not to mention, they had similar genetic coding to that of humans, making them perfect subjects for the likes of experimental medicines and other projects. It was through rats and mice that Vogelbaum had developed an idea, or rather, a solution.

It was in a recent study that scientists had found that keeping rats and mice in the same pen carried little influence on their growth and reproductive rates. Biologically, nothing changed. Behaviorally, nothing changed. Two different species, perhaps from the same family, were capable of coexisting with one another without any repercussions. To most, the discovery was meager and bore no true necessity. However, Vogelbaum saw the study as an act of brilliance. It fueled his curiosity.

Rats and mice, in the same pen, together.

What would be the results if he were to do such a thing with his more sentient subjects? Rely more on social ecological theory in interdependence of one another: children connect with the parents, then to the home, then they make friends at school, at their local church, with the neighbor across the street.

John killed so many of his caretakers. Not even Vogelbaum's most established scientists were able to enter the cell without fearing for their lives. By the time the boy was ready to be released, he would have no sympathy for humanity, no love in his heart. It wasn't as if Vogelbaum cared all that much. He created John with the intention of him growing up into a strong hero, a living and breathing Superman, his greatest dream coming to fruition. Who cared how he got there?

But, it was Stan Edgar that insisted that he fix the problem. The problem being that John had already killed dozens of innocents and he was only eleven.

Here was Vogelbaum's solution. Here lied the answer.

If theory was anything to go by, all Vogelbaum needed to do was find someone that John couldn't kill. Much easier said than done.

That was where you came in. Subjects were presented to Vogelbaum of varying ages, some had already undergone changes from Compound V. At first, Vogelbaum had his sights set on someone older, someone that could stand in as a parental figure for John where it was needed. But, his interest peaked when he saw you. Orphan, age ten, Compound V injections age two, accelerated healing, empath. The answer was there, right in front of him: the ability to control the emotion's of others, the ability to empathize. You would be a perfect mice to John's rat. All Vogelbaum needed to do was... reinforce you a little bit, make you stronger, sturdier. You had the healing factor, but you needed more if you were going to survive John.

With some of the finest implements of genetic manipulation and some more injections of Compound V, you would be a treasure. For you the pain would be excruciating, but once it passed you would be everything that Vogelbaum ever could have dreamed of.

The final leg of your journey could end up being your last, but Vogelbaum didn't care about the success. If his experiment failed, he would start again. It was all part of the process after all, trial and error.

"Who are you?" Shoved into the twelve by twelve lead cell that housed John, you were clueless, frightened, lost. Was this another horrible test? Another injection of V that would leave you twitching and crying on your metal slab of a bed for days on end.

The boy before you stared blankly, he had never seen someone his age before, someone so small and fragile. He wondered what test this was for him. Did they want him to kill you? Laser through your insides, rip you to shreds, remove your head from your body, break your back? He could do those things.

"W-Who are you?" You asked in a whisper, pressing yourself as far away from him as you could. Vogelbaum's voice cleared over the intercom system, beady eyes monitoring them from the other side of the two way glass.

"John, I would like you to meet (Y/N). (Y/N) is your friend. She will visit once a week. (Y/N) tell John a little bit about yourself." You gulped, glancing nervously between the mirrored glass and the boy called John. You twiddled your thumbs, heartbeat breaking through your chest. "(Y/N) tell John about your powers." The scientist demanded a bit more firmly. You would have sobbed if not for your survival instincts telling you to suck it up and do as you were told. You don't want to get electrocuted, or worse.

“I-I can feel things.”

“Good girl, just like we talked about.” Vogelbaum praised, “Why don’t you two take some time to get acquainted with one another? Be nice, John. Remember, she’s your friend.” Friend? John had heard about the word and had seen pictures of ‘friends’ during his training sessions. The president was a friend, generals were friends, soldiers were friends, police officers, fire fighters, normal people were friends. Friends had become synonymous with someone that John wasn’t supposed to kill. But a true friend wouldn’t lie to John, a true friend wouldn’t try to hurt him. Right?

“You’re my friend?” The young blue eyed, blonde haired boy lifted his chin, standing straight to assert his power over you. You could feel things, what did that mean? 

“I-I don’t know.” You stuttered, curling yourself inward so as to put yourself in a better position for defense. 

“If you’re my friend, why don’t you know?” He stepped closer and you recoiled further, holding your palms up, your breath quickened. You were lying. John didn’t like liars. You lied like those others, the ones that told him they loved him. “Are you a liar?”

“I don’t think so.” You bit your bottom lip, John remained blank and impassive. He held his hand out to you and his lips quirked up in an almost sickly smile. 

“Take my hand. We can be friends.” You vigorously shook your head, tears collecting at the corners of your eyes. 

“I don’t want to.” The intercom screeched abruptly and Vogelbaum’s booming voice returned.

“What did we talk about (Y/N)?” He spat, you squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head. 

“I’m scared.” You cried, turning your head into the cold metal wall.

“Don’t worry...” John chirped, that smile still splitting his boyish face. “I won’t hurt you.” If you were going to lie to him, then he had every right to lie to you. He was convincing, to a young girl that had no one and nothing. He was different than the others: your age, just a boy, no white coats and pointy needles. No one. Nothing. Slowly, albeit hesitantly, you held your hand out. It was the only way you could gage what he was feeling. You could determine if he was a threat from there. 

When your fingers touched his, he was instantly overwhelmed by a whole mess of tingles. He immediately withdrew, jolting away as if he had been stung. His eyes widened, and for the first time he was actually presenting a genuine emotional response. The Doctor took notes. 

“Who are you?!” John shouted, you flinched away, but did not mistake what you had felt. When you touched someone, you felt everything; likewise, they could feel what you did. You could manipulate such emotions to an extent, feelings could be altered to lessen someone’s anger or pain. What you felt in John, wasn’t all that different from what you felt in yourself. You instantly made the connection. John’s reaction on the other hand was-reasonable? You had been born and raised in a pit of Vought’s own creation. As an empath, you had been tested in the art of emotions since the moment you could walk and talk. Your training consisted of constantly being presented subjects. 

What is this person feeling? Can you make them feel like this?...

What if we cut their hand off? Do you feel their pain? Can you make them feel less of that pain?

What if we hurt you? Can you make someone feel what you feel?

You were used to it, your existence having been molded by emotions. But with John, all it took was one touch, and you knew, he was not used to feeling what others felt. He wasn’t short of emotions, but to truly empathize? He had never empathized with anyone. He had been chained down and caged his whole life, experimented on in every way, shape, and form. No one had ever walked into that room, knowing what he felt. And he had never been able to understand how they felt in having the freedom and independence that he never had. 

You sniffled, finally considering the situation that you had been shoved into.

John and you were not so different. In fact, he too was the only other person you had ever met that felt like you did.

“It’s okay.” You straightened yourself, stepping a little closer. You held your hand out again, hoping he would accept it out of curiosity. You did feel that he had intent to hurt you, but you couldn’t blame him after everything he had been through. He felt betrayed, angry, lost, lonely, cold, frightened. He was a brew of everything you felt, and more. Finally, someone’s emotions that were your own. John took your hand, cautiously, but this time his fingers snatched you and his grip tightened like a vice. “STOP!” You screamed, he was on the verge of breaking your hand any second. You poured as much of yourself into the touch as you could, all your pain and all your fear. The results were immediate. John’s entire expression softened, his grip relented. Instead, he held you gently. You winced, knowing your hand would bruise, but surely it would heal in no time at all. 

Then, something astounding happened, the Doctor leaned in closer.

“I’m-I’m Sorry.” John spoke, tentatively, it was his first time ever saying such a thing. Truly. 

Progress. The Doctor thought. And so it was...

“(Y/N)! Jesus Christ! How much trouble is it to get your fucking attention?!” You blinked from your daze, pulling your eyes from the expanse of city below. Your attention darted in John’s direction: he was pacing behind you in a furious step, hair slightly disheveled and violently blue eyes darting about with an unsettling rage. “Did you hear what I fucking said?! Or do you just not give a fuck anymore?!” You shook your head vigorously, immediately jumping to action. The exhaustion from it all was deep in your bones, but your body moved of it’s own accord; some sickening inner instinct, honed after years and years of being at his beck and call. You would do anything for him, and if that meant putting aside your personal needs then you would. That was what you were here for after all. That was why Vought created you: to keep Homelander tame. It was the one job you had been failing at for far too long. No matter how hard you tried, nothing ever seemed to be enough. The only thing that helped you get out of bed everyday was the hope that your efforts weren’t all for naut. 

“No! I always care, you know that!” Your hand rested on his forearm as he paused beside you, fierce glare turned down in your direction. He was unconvinced, so you knew he needed an explanation. “I’m just tired.” You confessed, tone dull and low as your emotions got the best of you. You forced a smile on your lips, hoping that it would lighten the mood. Homelander rolled his eyes before aggressively tugging his arm away and pacing again. 

“Well, go be fucking tired some other time. This is more important!” He began to pace around the table, putting some distance between you both. But even in the gigantic meeting room, everything felt so small and fragile when it was just the two of you. He had the power to make you feel insignificant and, yet, necessary all at the same time. One second he was cracking a joke with you and the next second he was yelling at you over something that annoyed him. Recently, things had been particularly bad for him. With John’s ratings going down, Stan Edgar constantly breathing down his neck, and Stormfront poking a stick at him whenever she had the chance, tensions were high. You had anticipated that John was going to come take it all out on you, his personal punching bag. You simply hadn’t anticipated the scale of his anger when he had called you to the meeting room that morning. It was draining to say the least.

“I’m sorry, John. Keep talking, I’m listening.” The urge to run and hug him was hard to ignore, but you knew it would only serve to make him more irritated. He very rarely ever let you touch him nowadays, and you had long given up trying to convince him that you loved him. The last time the both of you had experienced physical skin on skin contact was probably ten years ago at the least. He used to need you, undoubtedly, coming to you on a daily basis so that you could relieve the overwhelming mass of emotions bubbling in him. There was once a time where he sought you for relaxation and calm. You had once been the constant in his life, his rock to lean on where no one else could withstand his baggage. You had trained for it, had grown up with him, you knew him better than anybody. But, perhaps, it was that revelation that made him begin to push you away; the revelation that you knew him, in ways that no one else did. Instead, these days, he came to you for release of a different sort: mostly for complaining and degrading. There was a constant teeter tottering between him truly seeing you as his friend, but also as his therapist and his property. 

“Oh, you’re listening, now?” He snapped back, lifting a brow at you and scowling. “Suddenly, I’m all that more interesting again?” You visibly softened, shoulders drooping with a harsh exhale. 

“I don’t know what you want from me anymore.” You bit your bottom lip, holding back tears. “I don’t know what to say.” It was the only truth you could muster. There wasn't anything human left and without being allowed to use your powers on him, you could never help.

"Hmm..." His stoic glare penetrated you deep as you waited for some semblance of comfort. God forbid you try to get it from anyone else, he would kill them. He was making his way around and back to you then, within arms reach. "You're so pathetic, do you know that?" He cocked his head, eyes darting up and down your smaller self. You shivered involuntarily at the darkness and the cold that flickered in his eyes. "Would you even know what to do without me?" It didn't take you long to find your answer.

"No."

"That's right..." He confirmed, stepping into your space so he could feign a tender stroke along your cheek. "You need me." You allowed your eyes to flutter shut, his gaze still burning holes into you. As a few minutes of silence passed, his gloved hand painting invisible marks into your skin, you thought about saying it again. I love you. But it would still mean nothing to him. He touched you nowadays like one would touch their pet, and pets were supposed to be obedient. "Now..." His glove squeaked as he clenched his fist and took a step back. Your shoulders flinched when you thought he might lay a blow across your cheek. He knew you could handle it, you would heal fast and he didn't care if you felt pain. The blow never came, he gritted his teeth and turned sharply into his pacing again, fists propped behind his back. "Back to what I was saying, I need you to do something for me." Your eyebrows furrowed, but you swiftly bit the inside of your cheek and hid your confused expression. John never asked anything of you, ever. You mostly were kept around the tower to talk to him. You didn't have a job and your tasks were strictly limited to housekeeping in his penthouse.

"Like what?"

"That's what I was about to fucking explain, if you'd just shut the fuck up." You nodded your head vigorously, twiddling your thumbs out in front of you. One of the tears beat the threshold of your eyelash and began to slide down your cheek, you panicked to wipe it away before he noticed. "Not too long from now, I'll be heading to the set of Dawn of the Seven. Another stupid fucking marketing ploy..." He stopped by the large expanse of window, not far from where you found yourself standing shortly before. "I want you to be there." He clasped his hands firmly behind his back as he nonchalantly spoke those words. You immediately turned your gaze up, your expression clenched in confusion as you considered him.

"Really?" Did you sound far more excited than you should have been? Yes. Homelander never brought you anywhere anymore and it's not like you were allowed to go places you wanted anyways.

"Don't get your hopes up." He rolled his eyes, turning his side to face you and sending you a bored stare. "You'll be working. I want you to find out everything you can about Stormfront. Talk to her, convince her, whatever the fuck you need to do to let me in on her fucking shit. Understood?" You had used your abilities on many others in the past. Vought couldn't deny your importance when faced with a reluctant corporate shareholder or a stubborn politician. However, you had never used your powers on another suoerhero before. You were immediately nervous at the idea. No matter how resilient you were, you were still a fragile soul. What if you messed up? Stormfront was a powerful superhero. She could hurt you. "Is that a problem?"

"I've just..." You gulped anxiously, "I haven't used my powers in at least a year, and what if I mess up?"

"Aww, poor thing." He snickered, "Frankly, I don't give a fuck how you go about doing it. Just fucking do it." Another difference between now and then: Homelander had never sent you out to do something like this. He was usually very protective of you-possessive being the better word for it. "Or, do you not want me to be happy?" You blinked at him. Of course, he always said that to make you budge, to manipulate you into doing what he wanted. And you knew it, and you let it happen. Years ago, when you were both younger, he would tell you: I'm not happy here. I don't know what makes me happy. You'd hold his hand and give him all of the joy you could muster, and then he'd smile. His smiles were far more genuine then. Perhaps it was because he was genuinely feeling happiness.

"I always want you to be happy." You responded, devoid of any emotion and dully spoken.

"Perfect." He grinned, closing in on you to cup your cheeks. "Because if you don't..." He whispered lowly, ducking slightly down till you were face to face. "I will break every bone in your body. And when you heal, I will do it all over again." He pinched your cheek as he shoved past you and vacated the meeting room, knowing full well the effect his threat would have on you in his absence. You dropped your head, thinking about simpler times and missing the Homelander you once knew.

Within the hour, Ashley was dropping by the penthouse to accompany you to the set of Dawn of the Seven. You didn't protest and the whole time she spoke with you, you remained quiet and curled up. She was afraid, you could hear it in her voice. That was what Homelander did to people, he scared them into submission. In their case, they feared him doing his worst: burning them through with his lasor vision, or pulling them limb from limb as they suffered an agonizing slow death. In your case, you feared him discarding you completely, casting you aside, never coming to you again for anything.

"Urgh, isn't this exciting?!" Ashley hollered with feigned excitement, she squeezed your shoulder as you both stood outside of the limo that brought you to the set. "Homelander told me you never leave the tower, so I figure this must be a crazy experience for you. You want a latte, or something?" You faced her finally and shook your head, knowing that she was only appeasing you for the sake of Homelander's approval. You never knew what Homelander called you. There was once a time when he wanted to call you his girlfriend, but Vought refused. Later, Vought then paired him up with Queen Maeve and the two of them seemed to be an item for a while. But, what he called you nowadays, you weren't sure. Part of you didn't even care anymore.

"No, I'm good. Thank you." You reluctantly smiled at her and she returned it.

"Aww, aren't you adorable." She commented, you twiddled your thumbs as she directed her attention briefly to her phone. "I've got to take this, feel free to walk around and help yourself." Ashley strode off in a furious step, lifting the phone to her ear. You inhaled deeply, taking in the expanse of the set out in front. Trailers went on and on for acres and in the distance you could make out a staged destroyed city scape. You decided the quicker you got to completeing your task, the better. You started walking between the trailers, passing employees and sending them friendly waves so as not to come off suspicious. Stormfront wasn't anywhere in sight and neither were any other members of the Seven.

One particular turn and you were being swooped up into a pair of strong and thick arms, your back pressed to something hard and immovable, and it didn't take you more than a second to know who had grabbed you. Gloved fingers pulled up around your throat and a heated breath beat across the nape of your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

"John?" You whispered breathlessly, he had for some reason dragged you into a small gap between two trailers, somewhat shaded from the sun that beat heavily over the entirety of the Vought movie grounds. "What's wrong?"

"Have you talked to Stormfront yet?" You shifted, but immediately corrected yourself when the grip on your throat tightened. Your heart was pumping so fast, Homelander hadn't held this close in ages. You rested your hands on his forearm that belted your waist, squeezing at the muscle there. Without his skin touching yours, there was no stopping him from hurting you here.

"Not, yet."

"I thought so..." He growled in your ear, "You think it's fucking funny to parade around like a whore?"

"W-What?" Oh no, what did you do now? You thought you were doing pretty well, all things considered. "I just got here. I'm trying to find her."

"Why did you smile at Ashley? Hmm? And those other pathetic fucks that are moping around? You don't think I wouldn't notice. They're all looking at you. Is that what you want?" Jealousy. You belonged to him, remember?

"John-" He spun you around and slammed you against the trailer wall. The metal dented from the force of his shove, his hand still gripping harshly at your throat, and you winced. When your eyes finally settled on him, you noticed something that chilled you to the bone. John was looking anywhere and everywhere, anything that wasn't at you, and he was almost frantic in his movements as he leaned his weight from side to side. If you touched his cheek, you might be able to gage what he was feeling, but as far as you could see he was extremely disturbed. "I won't smile at anyone anymore, okay?"

"You-You shouldn't." He sternly chopped back, then finally glaring into your soft gaze. His eyes darted across your features, down your body, and then back to your face. "That's it. You're coming with me." He wrapped his arm around your waist and before you could protest you were being propelled up into the air by at least two hundred feet. You squeaked in surprise, wrapping your arms around his neck as he slowly lowered you back down to the ground. It was somewhere else on the set now and not more than a few feet away you saw an awning. Beneath that very same awning were a handful of members of the Seven, including the one you had been looking for.

Homelander was unceremoniously pushing at your lower back, guiding you toward the awning. Homelander had the wildest and fakest grin on his lips as he pushed you toward Stormfront. A-Train was sitting at one of the chairs, a morose looking Queen Maeve alongside him, upon seeing you they both sent you pity filled grimaces.

"Stormfront," Homelander's chipper voice jarred you from your dazed state and your eyes focused on the leather woman in front of you. "I'd like you to meet one of my best friends, (Y/N)." He nudged you forward, Stormfront smiled at you and your brain instantly saw the comparisons in Homelander all too sweet chesire smile.

"Aww, aren't you a sweetheart. I've seen you around the tower, what do you do?" Homelander's fingers slightly followed the curve of your waist and when you didn't respond quick enough he squeezed there.

"Oh-Um-I help Homelander with all sorts of things-Um-"

"Cool, cool, very cool-"

"Anywho," Homelander interjected, quickly losing all interest in the interaction. He did his part in his mind, he introduced the two of you and hurried your misison along just fine. "I have to go run a few errands and was wondering if you guys could watch her for me." He briefly glanced at A-Train and Maeve, but you knew he was mainly referring to Stormfront.

"Absolutely, we'll get some girl talk started." It was so fake it made your stomach churn, and when Homelander withdrew to go 'run some errands', as he had claimed, you found your fingers instinctively grappling onto his forearm. He glared at you, then snorted awkwardly as he used your own grip to drag you back closer to him.

"What the fuck did we talk about?" He husked in your ear, you stood on your tippy toes, till your lips were near his cheek. You were always so careful not to touch his skin, knowing it would set him off.

"I don't like her." You whimpered, "I don't like any-"

"Do as I fucking say, or else." You hesistantly nodded, allowing him to slip through your fingers as he stormed off. The ground rippled with a small quake as he leapt from the ground and sored into the sky.

"So..." Stormfront began, "You guys have an odd friendship, right?" You slowly faced her, she was plopping a few blueberries into her mouth. There was a darkness in her brown eyes that didn't sit right with you. "I'm just asking because, well, I've heard rumors that you're actually just his fuck toy." A-Train was in the middle of sipping a soda, he choked halfway through a gulp and hunched forward in his seat.

"I remembered I needed to be somewhere." He was a fast mover that A-Train, leaving just as soon as he uttered that last word. Maeve crossed her legs and then ducked her forehead into her palm.

"It's alright," Stormfront stepped into your personal space as she glared at the retreating A-Train. "We don't need his kind here anyways." Your entire face went pale, part of you wanted to ask her to specify what she meant, but another part of you was sickened by the idea of her explaining it.

"Come on. Let's talk." She dragged you to one of seats nearby and plopped next to you. Your soul fled your body as she began a one-sided conversation about the super terrorist threat and her job. Dread filled you as you listened to her go on and on, about things that you were certain Homelander didn't really need to know. The whole time she kept making off-handed comments at you, mostly pertaining to what you did and your relationship with Homelander.

"How does it feel to be the cocksleeve to the world's strongest man? I mean, I don't blame you for it, that's your place." Maeve left at some point, meaning that you were alone with Stormfront. After at least two hours of talking, you decided to take a chance and reach out to touch her. If you made her feel more amenable towards you, you could ask her anything and she'll tell you. That's what Homelander wanted, her secrets, right?

"You've got something on your-"

"Don't even think about it." Her once friendly tone had dissolved into disgust. You slowly returned your hand to your lap, squinting at her in wonder. People who knew where you stood, at Homelander's side, but nobody really knew that you were a supe. "Oh, you didn't think I knew?" She sighed, then spread the length of her arm across the back rest of your chair, she leaned in. "I know everything about you, (Y/N). You're a supe created and tailored solely to be Homelander's little fuck doll." Your lips parted to protest, but no words left them.

You were so tired. So very tired.

"Look, like I said, I'm not judging. That's your place, to keep Homelander in check..." Her gloved finger twisted in your hair. "But..." She emphasized, a tight lipped smile sealing her expression. "I can't help but feel like you've kind of failed, hm? Is that what it feels like, at least?" You stood up from your chair and went to flee. You didn't want any part of this conversation, or where it was going, or- "I could help you." She said cooly, just as your back was turned to her, you froze. Hesitantly, you spun back on your heel to face her. You were desperate. For what? You didn't know.

"H-How?"

"You don't really want this, do you?" She snickered, shaking her head and then dropping her gaze with an almost distant expression. "I mean, Homelander certainly doesn't." You stepped closer, feeling hollow and drained.

"I belong to him, I like to belong to him."

"Oh, please..." She rolled her eyes, "You've got some fucked up form of Stockholm Syndrome. It's been, what? Twenty years in the making. Don't think you're in the wrong for wanting anything else. He doesn't love you, he never has. You were gifted to him by the very same people that threw him in a cell for most of his childhood. Seriously, no wonder he hates you." Your eyes burned with tears, but none came. Your tears were all gone, used up, dried up. "You're tired." Stormfront grasped your shoulders as she came to stand, rubbing them up and down with a soothing grip. "Let someone else take care of him now. Let someone who actually deserves to be at his side, take care of him."

"Y-You?"

"Yes. We'll create a new world together, we're perfect for eachother." She huffed as she gave you a once over. "When was the last time he even touched you, a real touch." Years. Years. Years. Oh, how you missed him so much? She was right, he didn't want you. "Don't you want him to be happy?" You tensed at those words, realizing their engrained purpose in your brain. "Go out in the world. Explore." But what would I do without him? "I'll take care of him. You won't have to worry. This is what's best for him."

"I-" You gently removed her hands from your shoulders with light shoves. "I should get going."

"Yeah, of course..." She smiled brightly, "Think about what I said."

You left the set of Dawn of the Seven through Ashley. She seemed hesitant at first, considering that Homelander hadn't given her the okay, but she could see you were distraught about something so she ordered a limo for you. When you returned to the tower, you immediately went to Homelander's penthouse and you proceeded to drag yourself around. You tried watching TV, eating ice cream, listening to music, nothing was making you feel better. Eventually, after a few hours stuck in your thoughts, you began to pack. You didn't expect that Homelander would return for a while, so that gave you plenty of time to write a note, gather your things, and leave. Would he come after you? Would he kill you? Most importantly, would he miss you?

No.

He didn't care about you. He needed someone better, someone stronger, someone he had chosen.

And you needed to get away, you needed to take a break, you needed to know that Homelander wasn't the only person you could rely on anymore.

Your biggest fear: Would Vought come after you? You had never been out in the world on your own before. Would they find you?

You heard the double doors to the penthouse burst open and your breath caught in your throat. You knew you had spent too much time looking at that picture on the wall. Ya'know, the one of Homelander and you when you were young. His arm was wrpaped around your waist and you were buried into his side and he was smiling, genuinely. If the photo were alive to reveal that moment, when after the massive flash, you turned to kiss his cheek and he turned to kiss your lips. There was never any amount of love that you could pour into those kisses that proved yourself to him, that proved how much you cared for him, that proved how much you loved him. It was never enough.

Homelander entered the bedroom, his teeth grinding together as he looked upon the scene before him.

"What do you think you're doing?" He growled lowly, you plopped down on the edge of the bed; the bed was covered in your folded clothes and your toiletries, a suitcase open at the foot. You couldn't meet his gaze, fiddling with your thumb in your lap. "You didn't do anything I asked of you all day. Why shouldn't I punish you?"

"I'm leaving." His head craned back as if he was stung, his face channeled through a series of expressions before he settled on a stoic glare.

"Do you really expect me to believe that?" He clasped his hand behind his back, cape wisping out behind him as he carried forward. "You need me. You don't know what to do without me. You're pathetic." The same words he always said to you, a broken record of insults and degrading comments that you had come to agree with.

"I know." You sobbed, a burst of courage bubbling up from the intense sadness that coiled your insides. You stood, chin up to face him, and the tears were fresh this time. "But why put yourself through this any longer? Why keep me around? You don't want me, you don't need me. I'm a burden everyday, and you're you." You gestured at him with an aggressive swing of your hand, then turned to start shoveling items messily into your suitcase. "It's not good for me to be around anymore. I only remind you of what we suffered through. I only remind you of Vought's attempts to control you. I don't deserve to be at your side, I-"

"Who told you this?" When he spoke this time his voice was cracked, uncharacteristically soft. You didn't dare look at him, too afraid of what it would do to you.

"I thought of it myself." You stopped, realizing he could probably tell if you were lying to him. You were holding a clump of once folded clothes in your shaky hands. "John..." You placed everything down and then finally faced him, your feet shuffling at the navy blue carpet. His eyes were glistening, as if he was about to cry any moment and it threw you for a loop. "I-" You shakily reached out to grab his forearm, eyes focused on the way his muscles twitched under your touch before you looked up at him. "I love you so much. More than you have ever known. But, I'm tired. I'm so tired. You deserve someone better, someone you chose."

"I-I'll-" His eyebrows furrowed in a split second of rage. "I'll find you. You'll never be able to hide from me-"

"Why? Why bother?" You forced a comforting smile on your lips to sooth him, although you were the one that needed soothing. "You know I-"

"I don't know what I'd do without you." He husked out, struggling to utter those into the space that parted you both. You stood there, absolutely gobsmacked, unable to peel your fingers from his arm as your body froze completely.

"W-What?"

"I do need you." He admitted, albeit with some reluctance. You watched as a tear trailed down his cheek. You wanted to hug him so badly, you want to touch his flesh and tell him everything was going to be alright. You wanted to make him better again. "So, stay. I'll do better." You lowered your head, chin pressing to your chest.

"I want to believe you." You whispered and luckily his super hearing could pick up on the faintest of sounds, because the words were barely voiced from the pit of your throat. You spun away from him, toes curling into the carpet, you continued packing. "It's been years, John. Years since I've touched you, years since you've needed me. I've only ever wanted to be closer to you."

You made him feel human, he wanted to say. You made him feel whole, he wanted to say. You made him love, he wanted to say.

But he was Homelander, the strongest man on the entire face of the earth, superior to all, and long ago, he had learned that having you so close made him weaker. Having you around made him human.

At the same time, watching you leave killed him. He didn't know what it was like to die, but this must had been as close as he would ever get to it.

"I can't let you leave."

"Then, kill me, I guess." You released another choked sob and his heart wrung at the sound. You closed the suitcase shut, after shoving in the last of your things. The sound of the zipper rolling on the track, pulling around the case and sealing it shut, it made him wheeze with desperation.

It was the unknown. The unknown of not seeing your face everytime he entered his penthouse. The unknown of having to live without talking to you, sharing light conversations and the occasional jokes he cracked that were in reality quite morbid and unsettling. You wouldn't be around when he needed you. You wouldn't belong to him anymore. You dropped the suitcase to the ground, deciding that any sort of goodbye would not suffice. You slipped on your flipflops and as you were leaving the room...

"Touch me." You gasped, pausing in the doorway. You could hear sifting out behind you and it was Homelander, removing his gloves. "Please."

You faced him, relishing in this moment, but anxious that it might be too good to be true. Should you give in? Or should you proceed to leave? Homelander had never laid himself so bare before you, John had never given you this much in far too long. He sniffled, tossing the gloves on the bed and holding his hands out to you. "Please. Touch me." You relinquished all of your power to him.

You held your hands out the same and as you were within reach, your fingers interlocked an entire explosion of feelings, overwhelming and strong, came through. You looked up into his eyes and began to cry and so did he. Why would he put himself through this? Why would he suffer, when you were there the whole time?

"Oh, John." You cried for him, jumping up into his arms and pressing your lips to his in a chaste kiss. His entire body wracked with a harsh sob and his arms wrapped around you to hold you closer. You would not break the connection, cupping his cheeks and holding your forehead to his. "I wish you had come to me sooner, my poor boy." Your thumbs wiped away as many tears as you could catch, but there were so many. You hadn't seen him cry like this in ages.

"More." He breathed, "I need more of you." He whimpered, tugging at your clothes, you nodded your head vigorously.

You were so tired.

But you would give yourself to him.

#reader #the boys #homelander #vought #the seven #queen maeve #a train #homelander x reader #female reader #stormfront #abusive relationship #conditional love #obession #supe!reader

[blindmagdalena]

Hi! I’ve recently fallen into a homelander rabbit hole and your blog has quickly become one of my favorites so if you’re asking for prompts, I’ll deliver! What about ❛ you’ve got an awfully kissable mouth. ❜ or ❛ his dark eyes took me in, and i wondered what they would look like if he fell in love. ❜

Keep up the awesome writing!!

For months, you're proud to say that you've been a particularly prickly thorn in Homelander's side. With the rise of what Vought has patent-pending branded as "super villains," you prefer to think of yourself as a "medium villain." When you escaped from Sage Grove Center, you didn't have any spectacular plans for world domination. In fact, you couldn't give less of a fuck about this world. You've been experimented on, tortured, ridiculed, and now... You're free, and you have power. Unfortunately, you're also a loose end that Vought, and by extension, the Homelander, needs tied off.

AO3 Link.

#omg this one literally got too long for me to post lmao #this was SO MUCH SETUP for me to deliver these two lines but oh well i was inspired #thank you so much for the ask and your kind words!!! welcome to homelander hell #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander x supe!reader #supe!reader #i mentioned wanting to write supe reader earlier so it's not surprising this sprung out of me #puppet verse

[supertrxshwrites]

Jason finding out reader has a mask kink:

You’re scrolling through your feed and Jason is behind you as you’re laying on the couch the last 5 or so videos have been guys in motorcycle helmets, ghostface, ghost Riley and konig cosplays making thirst traps.

“So..like me?”

“Huh?”

“Masked men..your whole fyp is just masked dudes”

“Mmm red hood? No like uh ghost”

You say scrolling through your TikTok feed

“Ghost? Like call of duty” he laughs a bit

“Yeah… what’s funny?” You say looking up from your phone.

“It’s same shit different colors” he’s holding his stomach laughing before he clears his throat and grabs his helmet.

He leans down and whispers in your ear

“Awe sweetheart if you wanted me to fuck you in the helmet, all you had to do was ask”

#jason todd smut #jason todd x reader #jason todd #red hood #supes writes #supes #I just know Jay would clown you a bit about your fyp being masked men #especially when you’ve got him at home

[b1mbodoll]

pairings: ricky shen x f! reader

warnings: daddy kink + cervix fucking + womb fucking + overstimulation + oral

💌: everyone shut up im hatewatching fifty shades of grey and i HATE christian grey but im thinking of lifestyle dom ricky 😵‍💫 also had lifestyle dom jay thoughts but ive posted bdsm jay hc’s a while before ps if this is sloppy pls dont mind it ok im sleepy rn

ricky shen is rarely ever told no. he’s used to getting what he wants, when he wants it. his word is law and no one goes against him.

when he meets you he feels an intense need to protect you. to spoil you with lavish gifts and please you every day. there’s nothing he wants more than to be used for your pleasure, abiding by your wants and needs.

he takes his time getting you accustomed to a life where you never have to lift a finger, don’t even need to think because that’s what daddy is for. he’s there to take care of his princess and make sure you’re happy.

when it comes to sex ricky only cares about making you cum. spends hours between your legs, his skilled tongue fucking your tight hole as you fist his hair, fingers pulling at the locks making him moan from the pain, his hips grinding into the mattress in a desperate attempt to calm his aching dick.

when he parts with your pussy there’s strings of saliva and your arousal connecting his mouth and chin to your cunt, the sight making you squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment. “look at me, princess” he orders, “look at daddy when ‘m fuckin’ you” his swallows thickly, cock throbbing when you shyly meet his gaze.

he fills you up in one quick thrust, his length nestled in your warms walls, the tip piercing your womb. he grunts deeply while driving his hips into yours, the stimulation too much for his sensitive dick making his pace falter for a second before he collects himself, focused on making you cum for the nth time that night.

you completely fall apart on his dick, overstimulation making your mind go blank as you cum around him, rings of translucent cream forming around his cock. he cums not long after, emptying his balls deep inside your womb because you look so pretty like this, mouth hanging open and your tits bouncing while your tight cunt sucks him in, completely ditzy from the feeling of him slamming into your cervix.

#this was supposed to be supes sweet but it turned smutty…sorry #zb1 #ricky shen #zb1 x reader #zb1 smut #ricky shen x reader #ricky shen smut #💌.daddy kink #💌.cervix fucking #💌.womb fucking #💌.overstimulation #💌.oral

[thebiggerbear]

Soldier Boy x Reader - Prompt Response - "I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that."

Summary: You're pissed that he put himself at risk yet again.

A/N: Prompt from @creativepromptsforwriting (#941). This was too much fun to play with. Soldier Boy is something, that's for sure lol. Hope this is alright.

Thank you to my beta Em for her services. You rock, girl!

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female!Reader; Soldier Boy x Female!Supe!Reader

Warnings: mentions of violence; mentions of sex; implied sex; Soldier Boy being himself; language (I guess?)

Word Count: 1881

Please do not do any of the above. Thank you for your understanding.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

SB Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @brightlilith

"I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that."

Beau version | Dean version | Jenny version | Jason version | Tom version | CJ version | Rachel version | Anael version | SDV Leah version | Alec version

You stormed into the suite you and Soldier Boy shared in Vought Tower. The supe strolled in after you, a scowl on his face as he shut the door behind him.

You waved around your hand and suddenly, a glass flew out of the cabinet, landing on the counter. A bottle of the finest whiskey you owned made its way from the bar as ice cubes from the fridge settled softly into the glass. Once the whiskey was poured and the bottle was safely settled beside it, you held out your hand and the drink slowly fit itself into your palm. You took a sip, letting the liquid travel down to the pit of your stomach, and relished the fire it stoked; it was a fire that had already started during your mission.

“Got one of those for me, doll?”

You scoffed and walked away from the kitchen—away from him. “You’ve got working limbs. Use them and make it yourself.” You didn’t need to turn around to know that that response pissed him off. Well, too damn bad; you were pissed as well.

You headed into the bedroom and, heaving a deep breath, you began to take off your gear. Soldier Boy came in behind you, but you refused to turn around.

“Come on, you’re making a big deal over nothing.”

“Nothing?” You spun on your heel, glaring at him. “You could have been killed, Ben!”

He was glaring right back at you. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t. I did what I had to do to take that fascist fuck down.” 

You let out a frustrated huff as you slammed your gloves down onto the dresser next to you. “You are the most stubborn, pig-headed jackass I’ve ever met! You just refuse to hear what I’m saying to you!”

Hands grabbed onto your hips and spun you around, bringing you face to face with a very turned on Ben. Of course. You knew he loved it when you would get angry since he could “fuck it right out of you,” as he’d once told you when you’d asked why he enjoyed riling you up so much. “Best fucking ride I get to take,” were his exact words. He’d given you a salacious grin and then that deep laugh when you’d smacked his bare shoulder. The action didn’t, and wouldn’t, hurt him in the slightest; in fact, he’d pulled you closer and you had taken the opportunity to run your fingers through his sweaty locks.

Ben leaned in to kiss you, thinking things were about to pop off once again (he was pretty sure he’d never seen you this pissed off before and he wanted to skip the yelling altogether, get right to the fun part), but you prevented him from doing so. The impatient frown you’d expected was in place and you cupped his cheeks to meet his eyes. He knew this was a sign that you wanted him to really listen to you.

“Ben, you can’t keep doing things like this,” you told him in a softer tone but laced with as much firmness as before. “You’re not invincible, you know that.”

His lips lifted up into a smirk. “Pretty damn close, though.”

You let out a sigh of frustration and decided you’d had enough. A bluish white haze came over your vision and you saw Ben’s eyes widen as your palms began to glow. You showed him your perspective of the day’s events: how you’d watched the missile launched by the townspeople, heading straight towards the building he was in; how you’d been unable to stop it but still slowed it down enough so that more people could get out of there; how everyone had been clear except him and the asshole dictator and their regime that he’d been ordered to kill; how you’d screamed for him to get clear because you couldn’t hold it back much longer; how you’d finally collapsed because you had no juice left, only able to helplessly watch as the weapon slammed into the building. You let him feel your heartbreak, your grief, your pain from thinking he was dead. And then you shared with him the massive relief you felt once he managed to dig his way out, dirty but unscathed nonetheless—and then your anger once he told you he’d heard you yell for him but he had to take down the dictator. He chose to stay inside, knowing he could very well die, and he was okay with that. He simply snorted at the idea that he should run for cover, for safety, and that enraged you.

You ended this viewing with memories you swore you’d never show him (but would if that’s what it took to get your point across). You both watched as you first met—your apparent disgust towards him; your perception of him changing over time; the first time you’d let him into your bed, how you two grew closer; the look on his face when you demanded exclusivity or you’d walk after you’d found him with a receptionist from the 28th floor willingly on her knees; the contentment you felt being partners with him both inside the job and out of it; your worry for him each time he separated from you on a mission; the threats you’d made to Stan Edgar if he ever tried to have another Nicaragua happen again and the hell you’d unleash if he did; the tenderness you watched him with as he slept after having more nightmares; your compassion for him the one time he’d mentioned his father to you; the enjoyment of spending time with him watching things from the past and watching him laugh or enthusiastically tell you about that time, and finally, the kicker — the love you’d started to feel for him. You moved your hands away, the glow disappearing as did your haze, and you turned away from him. You hadn’t meant to show him that last part or let him in that deeply. You had been waiting for the right time, which you were pretty sure would be never, but when your emotions ran high like they did today, it was harder to keep everything behind the wall you usually kept in place.

Instead, you quietly cleared your throat and decided to act as if he hadn’t just heard those last thoughts. “You get it now? How dangerous that was? How dangerous it is every time you do some stupid crap like that?”

He gripped your chin and forced you to meet his gaze again. 

“Ben, you can’t keep—”

He cut you off by leaning in and kissing you. Instead of turning it dirty like he usually did or ramping it up, he pulled back after a minute and stared into your eyes. “I do, too, you know,” he murmured.

You were afraid to ask. Still, you had to know. “Yeah?”

He ran his thumb tenderly over your bottom lip. “Yeah.” You studied him as he studied you in return. For once, you didn’t see any hint of amusement, bullshit, or even lust. He was telling you the truth.

You lifted a hand to run your fingers through his hair, which made him shut his eyes halfway; you knew he liked it when you did that. “Then you can’t keep doing things like this.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and he lowered his forehead onto yours. “I thought you were dead today,” you let out in a broken whisper. He had really scared the shit out of you… You had been beyond devastated for those few minutes.

“I’m right here in front of you, sweetheart,” he reassured you, giving you a sweet smile that you only saw when it was just the two of you. 

“But what if—”

“I’ll be more careful from now on,” he promised, kissing you once more. He then grinned wolfishly. “So, do those magic hands of yours work both ways?”   

You knew they did but you’d never told him that. He’d only seen you use them to insert images sometimes into your targets to paralyze them or make them vulnerable, but you’d never actually used them on him before. “They can,” you answered carefully. “But I don’t usually do that. I don’t like reading someone’s thoughts without their consent.”

“So all this time we’ve been rolling around, you’ve never once tuned in?”

“No,” you insisted, offended and moving away from him. “I can only imagine the jizz-soaked apocalyptic ride through unforgettable hell that would be. There probably isn’t enough alcohol in the world to try and wipe those memories from my mind.”

He caught your wrist and gently placed your hand against his bearded cheek. “Read mine now.”

“Ben,” you pleaded. “Please don’t make—”

“Trust me.” He leaned in closer. “Read ‘em.”

You weren’t sure you wouldn’t be retching after this. He’d literally just learned you loved him and he implied he felt the same, so if he showed you the highlights of his glory days, you swore you’d nut punch him after you got sick and then force him to relive your own highlights and how much you very much still enjoyed those from time to time. Usually, of course, when you were alone in the shower.

You took a deep breath and opened the connection. You were suddenly flooded with images of your greatest hits: him going to town on you and being merciless, making you cry out his name in passion; the furniture you’d broken during your escapades and the walls you’d cracked, even one floor you’d broken through (right into the middle of a table being used for a board meeting but that didn’t stop either of you—if anything, Ben enjoyed everyone watching him give it to you and making you almost feral in chasing your high); you taking charge and putting him on his back, your eyes having a bluish white glow as you smirked wickedly down at him before taking what was yours and truthfully had been yours since you’d said you wanted him all to yourself. You could hear your cries and moans echoing in your ears along with his grunts and yells and dirty talk you both loved. You could hear other sounds too—sounds that made your cheeks warm—and you could feel the lust and heat rising within you as that same bluish white haze settled upon your vision.

You suddenly broke the connection. His brow furrowed in confusion before you growled out, “Suit off. Now.”

His typical smirk returned as he began to undo his chest plate.

“Not fast enough.” You waved your hand and Ben’s suit undid itself at the same time yours did. The shield planted itself in the corner where it usually sat while the clothes situated themselves beside it. Both of you were stark naked but that wasn’t enough. You flicked a finger and Ben was immediately shoved back onto the bed, right where you wanted him. You clambered up on top of him and positioned yourself, his hands on your hips to help you, when you leaned down to look into his eyes.

“I hate you.”

His grin was wide, knowing you definitely didn’t mean it. “You have a weird way of showing that.”

You snorted and kissed him, taking what you now knew was undoubtedly yours.

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

#soldier boy x supe!reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy x female supe!reader #soldier boy x female reader #the boys fanfiction #soldier boy #the boys #prompt response #the boys fandom #soldier boy fanfiction #jensen ackles #jensen ackles character #soldier boy x supe!female!reader #supe!female!reader #thebiggerbear

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hiii I want to requests a Homelander x Dom male reader that is a super powerful telepath and telekinetic that vought really wants to recruit because of his abilities (especially for his telepathy since they could use the info he finds from mind reading as blackmail) but instead reader refuses and blackmails vought to leave home alone so they send Homelander to kill him but he gets his ass handed to him by reader and is humiliated and turned on from how easy it was to over power him so they end up fucking

This was a long ask lol srry

Homelander/John Gillman x Supe male reader

I just finished writing an assignment with a deadline of today, so im gonna reward myself by writing smut.

You had been made a supe the same way any supe had been created, but the moment you developed your telekinesis and telepathy, you had known a lot more than people thought. You had kept your telepathy a secret for many years, not wanting people to know you could read their thoughts just yet, as it allowed you to gather secrets and ways to survive in this fictional world that Vought had set up. When you became 18 you removed the tracking chip from your body using telekinesis and decided to leave. Your parents, the people who had been paid by Vought to make you superhuman, tried to make you stay, but you revealed how you knew all their secrets and how they never truly loved you. And using your knowledge you blackmailed them into leaving you alone for a while.

They of course went to Vought with the new information, fearing what you would do with all the knowledge you had. In the beginning they sent representatives from Vought to try and convince you to work with them, or to threaten you, but they had no idea how powerful you truly were. You had always been extremely smart thanks to your telepathy, so you kept the true extent of your powers a secret. They believed you could control fire, water, and even make yourself fly. But when you tore apart one of their more violent representatives, reducing them to mere atoms, they finally realized just how much of a threat you could be.

For many years they left you alone for the most part, though they would sent a representative every now and then, even sending other supes or a few times sending Black Noir. When you were in your 20s you met Stan Edgar for the first time, and again they must have underestimated your powers, as he didn’t seem as on edge as others had been. After talking with him for a bit you realized they thought you could only see and hear what they were thinking about at the moment, but in reality you could dig deep into their memories and gather all the information you wanted. So, when Edgar tried to subtly threaten you to join Vought, you dumped some of his most well-kept secrets out in the open, making it clear you’d keep the info you knew to yourself as long as they left you alone.

As the years pass Vought leaves you mostly to yourself, though they do keep an eye on you but never interact with you. But over time your powers have grown even more, so you’re able to gather information about everyone around you, you’re even able to read the thoughts and memories of people on the other side of the planet. Your telekinesis has pretty much made you invulnerable and unbeatable, but you could care less about the game that is superheroes and supervillains, so you much prefer a normal life.

When things with the seven start to go down, Edgar must have become desperate as multiple members die or are taken off the team for some reason. The unstable standing of Vought makes him decide to try and make you work for him again, knowing how useful your telepathy could be when it came to dealing with other people. But when you don’t even read the letter he sends you and instead light it on fire with your telekinesis, Edgar decides that if you wont work for Vought you cant be allowed to exist as you pose a threat to them.

Vought ends up sending Homelander your way, having filled his head with different stories of why you need to be gotten rid of and how much of a threat you pose to Vought and his own popularity. Over all these years you had worked mostly normal jobs, and for the past few years you had worked in an office building as a medium ranked worker. You were good at your job, and if you used your powers to make it a less toxic work place, no one could blame you.

You had just returned home from work, still wearing your suit and carrying your work suitcase, when Homelander landed in your yard. Luckily you lived in a more isolated area, so no one saw the number one hero land as if he owned the place, his hands on his hips and his red glowing eyes glaring in your direction. It didn’t make more than a glance to know why he was there, a sigh working past your lips as you reach up and rub your temple since you had planned on just spending the evening relaxing, maybe catching up on a show you had been putting off.

Homelander could only watch in confusion as you held up your hand in a wait here motion, opening your front door to place your suitcase down inside, working off your jacket to place it inside before closing the door again. Rolling your shoulder you barely gave John time to react before he found himself flying through the air, unable to keep up with your speed and overpowering strength.

John had never been overpowered before, so he did all he could to try and hit you. But even when his fists or lasers hit you it left no damage, which only worked to enrage and humiliate the blonde even more. As if you were finally done with indulging him, you used your telekinesis to throw him to the ground, binding his arms to his body and making it impossible for him to move.

It was when you landed beside him that you really looked at him, having mostly tuned out his thoughts during the whole fight. But it was seeing him laying there, trying in vain to wriggle free from your hold, his hair ruffled and eyes shiny with tears, that you let your telepathy brush against his thoughts with more purpose.

The influx of humiliation and lust was a surprise whilst it also really wasn’t, and you could help but smirk and chuckle, causing Homelanders eyes to flash red as he felt enraged at your laughter. The two of you were in the middle of nowhere, so no one saw you pull John to his knees, using his blonde hair as a grip to pull you whichever way you pleased. It was clear just how touch starved the supe was, as he almost seemed to arch into your hand, his eyes fluttering as he felt the flash of pain in his scalp.

John couldn’t help but buck his hips at the burning humiliation, his eyes growing even more teary as he glanced up at your passive expression, as if he wasn’t anything special kneeling between your knees the way he was. There was something so good about being overpowered, it was something Homelander had always craved but had never been able to be given since he had always been the strongest. But here he was, his arms bound behind his back with a power he couldn’t even see, aching hard between his thighs as he almost shivered in anticipation.

The power of Homelanders want washed over you like a tidal wave, making twinges of heat gather in your abdomen, making your length harden up little by little. The blonde must have smelled the change in your hormones thanks to his heightened senses, a feeble whimper passing between his pouty lips as he tried to press his head forwards towards your crotch, but unable to move as the grip you had on his hair tightened.

The noises John made were nothing like one would imagine Homelander would make, tiny warbled pleas falling from his spit covered lips as he kept chewing and licking at them, as if he was aching for something in his mouth. When he finally let the title that had been in the forefront of his mind slip from his lips you let out a groan of your own, and seeing your reaction Homelander started repeating “Daddy, please.” His voice growing more and more desperate as the lust built in both of you.

The fight had long left Homelanders body, replaced by the extreme need to serve you, to be a good boy. So, when your belt buckle opened without you using your hands, and your boxers were tucked down under your balls releasing your hard length to the cold air, John keened like he was dying. You held him in place with one hand as you used the other to grab around the base of your length, leading it to his mouth which fell open without any issue, John sticking out his wet tongue as he looked up at you with wet begging eyes.

His eyes almost rolled back into his head as he finally got his mouth around you, the hand in his hair loosening as he started bobbing his head in a desperate display. John had little skill in sucking someone off, but he made up for it with the sheer enthusiasm in which he put into the task. Spit dribbling down his chin as he gagged on your cock, his own hips twitching with the movement as having something in his mouth only stimulated him more.

You could see him rubbing his thighs together, stimulating his own hardness as he deepthroated you, tears running down his cheeks as he rubbed his tongue against the underside of your cock. Feeling pity for the blonde you used your telekinesis to wrap around him, feeling like a tight fist wrapped around his length under his suit. The sudden feeling made Homelander moan, the noise muffled by the length between his lips, his eyes falling shut as he started humping his hips as if to fuck the invisible fist around him,

Being as turned on as he was, it wasn’t a surprise that John came quite quickly, spilling in his boxers and the inside of his suit, high pitched whines falling from his lips as he tried his best to keep sucking, bopping his head in uneven movements as his head swam with an orgasm. The feeling of his orgasm washed over you in return, your telepathy making it almost impossible to not feel it alongside him.

Pulling out of his mouth he whined, his mouth hanging open as he finally opened his eyes again to look up at you. John stuck out his tongue as he watched you wrap your fist around yourself, jerking your length as he let out quiet huffs and groans, his toes curling in his boots as he watched you get closer and closer. When you finally came you let it shoot all over his face, watching as some of it get all the way into his messy hair, though most of it struck his mouth to which John moaned. He waited until you were done cumming until he tucked his tongue back into his mouth, wanting to taste you as much as possible.

You both were silent for a moment, both panting to catch your breaths and come down from your orgasms. When you finally released the telekinetic hold you had on John he slumped forwards, having gotten used to not having to support his own weight. You were quick to catch him, helping him to his unsteady feet as he leant against you for support, tucking his head into your neck as he shivered and whimpered.

Sighing you ran a hand through his hair, causing Homelander to lean back into your hand like a cat, you realized you couldn’t leave him like this. You made sure to clean up his face, making sure he was doing okay before you picked him up in a princess carry, kicking off the ground as you started flying back to your home. John could only tuck in close against you, completely having forgotten why he was sent to kill you in the first place because he was so comfortable and relaxed.

#male reader #homelander #john gillman #the boys #homelander imagine #homelander headcanon #homelander x male reader #homerlander x reader #john gillman imagine #john gillman headcanon #john gillman x male reader #john gillman x reader #the boys imagine #the boys headcanon #the boys x male reader #the boys x reader #top reader #supe reader #the boys x supe reader #homelander x supe reader #john gillman x supe reader

[mjolnirswriststrap]

Super Hearing

Homelander x Reader

Word Count: 927

Summary: You forget Homelander has super hearing, while trying to explain something to your friend in a crowded coffee shop.

Warnings: None.

Masterlist

Sandra’s voice drones on and on about the way climate change is ruining everything. You sip on your tea with a disgruntled look. She promised shopping and gossip, not channel five news. Your attention is caught when the bell beside you chimes. Letting everyone know a new customer walked in.

Your eyes widen in shock, this is the last place you’d expect to see him. The Homelander, at Starbucks. It helped that he had his son with him, his eyes ,almost as wide as yours, look at the extensive menu. This must be his first time. You look at his childlike wonder and remember being 14 and ordering cake pops with Sandra.

You look across from you and your jaw drops. “Sandy! Look who it is!” You whisper. She rolls her eyes, not fond of him. “God, please let the earth swallow me whole.” She says, dramatically resting her head on the table.

“You know I can’t stand him, or any supe for that matter.” She says rolling her eyes at your excitement. “Well. You know how I feel, I respect him, the good he does far out weighs the bad. He’s earned being a cocky ass.”

Speaking of ass, you take the time to admire his, he was wearing his suit, but no cape, must be too dramatic for errands with a kid. Someone blocked your view. A stereotype of a woman stands behind him, tapping his shoulder with her bottle tanned hand and long fingernails. “Can I get a picture?” You swear her voice sounded normal but it shot hot streaks through your veins, filling you with an annoyance.

“Sure thing.” He says, plastering a fake smile on, that looked like it hurt. He leans over for the picture, keeping a foot of space between them, even though it was obvious she wanted him to wrap his arm around her for the picture. You scoff, “He’s here being a dad to Ryan, why even bother him with pictures?”.

You see as the barista throws herself at Homelander as he orders for Ryan. She’s leaned halfway over the counter, her top buttons recently undone. “Look how tense he is right now, he probably never catches a break from women.” You say, never taking your eyes off him.

“I bet he has a new one of them in his bed every night.” Sandra says, downing the rest of her black coffee. You shrug your shoulders, it was probably true, you’d be one of those girls too, if you had the chance.

Sipping your tea once more you watch as they stand at the end of the counter, not immune to restaurant wait times. “I just know those girls can’t take care of him like he needs.” You feel bad for him, “They want a big strong supe to wreck them, I bet all he wants is to be cared for, genuinely.”.

Sandra laughs at you and it breaks your attention from the tall man. “As if it would be you.” She laughs again when you shoot her a confused look. “You’re so not his type, skinny blondes seem more in his range.” She says.

Your friends words hurt, but you knew they were true. You could sit in the corner fantasizing about him all day, it wouldn’t change the fact the he would never approach a girl like you. “What’s so wrong with dreaming?” You say, giving your friend a fake laugh to let her know you wanna change conversation topics.

Sandra pulls her phone out when ‘beez in the trap’ starts filling the small Starbucks dining area. “Hello?” She says, and you take the chance to look back over to the supe. Except he’s not standing there anymore, you see Ryan waiting by the front door and before you know it, blue fills your vision. Homelander is at your table, a paper business card in his hand.

You’re dumbfounded for a minute, wondering what it could possibly be. You look up to his face and meet his eyes. They glimmer as if he didn’t expect you to dare make eye contact with him.

“Can I help you, Sir.” You say, not wanting to say the wrong thing and embarrass yourself. Sandra groans from across the table, while still having the phone pressed to her ear, you don’t owe him anything and yet here you were serving yourself up.

“I hope so, call me. That is, if you like cocky asses.” He drops the card on the table and turns towards your friend to give her a grimace, letting her know how dissatisfied he was with her. He walks away without another word. Leading Ryan out of the trendy coffee shop.

Your face turns beet red, he heard you. If he heard you calling him names, then he heard how much you want him, a glimmer of pride sparks in your chest, she was so wrong, maybe you are just his type.

Sandra slides her phone into her purse, silently fuming. “Are you serious right now? We’re supposed to be having a girls day, not picking up guys.” She says, annoyed with everything you do. You wonder if she’s even your real friend.

“We were supposed to go shopping, not sit in Starbucks and talk about ice caps melting.” You shoot back, not letting her bully you any more.

Sandra gives you a look of surprise, like she didn’t expect you to talk back to her. “I think I’m gonna go.” You say, leaving her open mouthed at the table. You had to go celebrate yourself, alone.

#the boys #the boys diabolical #homelander #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander x y/n #john gillman #the boys fanfic #the boys fic #fanfiction #billy butcher #hughie campbell #supes #supe x reader #homelander fanfiction

[kaleldobrev]

A Big Ask

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Fem!Supe Reader

Summary: Ben has a big ask for you

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Cursing (7x), Implied past threesome, Canon divergence, Some fluff

Authors Note: Takes place in the 1970s (cause why not?) | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

When it came to everyone in Ben’s life, you were the only one that he would remotely listen to. Not only were you his best friend and more than occasional fuck buddy, but you were also his wrangler. The only person that could talk Ben down from beating someone into a bloody pulp for getting his coffee order wrong; the only person that could talk him into bringing you along for a team up so he didn’t get trigger happy.

You and Ben had been friends since first meeting at the inaugural Herogasm in ‘52. You were a bright eyed 18-year-old who wanted nothing more than to make a lasting impression on her two favorite Supes: Liberty and Soldier Boy; and boy did you, as the very next day, Vought called you and offered you a job.

You weren’t entirely sure as to why you were the only person Ben would remotely listen to; but, at this point, you had made the assumption that it was because you’ve been best friends with him for over 20 years — the longest friendship for both of you.

It was a usual Sunday morning for you, as there was a hefty sounding knock at your apartment door. Stretching quickly, you jumped out of bed and grabbed your silk forest green robe, tying it at your waist before heading toward the front door.

Upon opening it, Ben appeared in the doorway, leaning casually against the doorframe, holding a white Styrofoam cup in hand with your name written on the side in jet black Sharpie. “Special delivery,” Ben said, handing you the cup.

“My usual I’m assuming?” You questioned, taking the semi-hot cup from his hand. He simply looked at you dead in the eyes. “I’m kidding,” you said, playfully hitting him in the chest. “Come in,” you smiled, turning your back toward him as you walked inside.

Ben strolled right in, practically making himself at home as he shut the door behind him and kicked off his boots; not bothering to place them to the side next to the door where your boots were usually placed. Not even turning around you said, "I hope that's the sound of you putting your boots next to the door."

Ben rolled his eyes. "Yes ma'am," he said, his tone slightly annoyed. He picked up his boots, mentally cursing at you as he placed them next to the door where they originally should have gone when he walked through the door.

Taking a seat on the couch, you crossed your legs and took a good, long look at your friend. "So, what brings you here this morning?"

“Wanted to talk to you about something,” he said, taking a seat next to you on the couch.

“What is it?” You asked. The way he looked at you was different compared to all the other times he had ever looked at you. What was usually a look similar to that of longing, now looked similar to that of fearfulness. Placing a hand on his thigh, you looked him in the eyes, hoping to give him a slightly reassuring look. "Ben, you know you can tell me anything."

"I know, it's just...it's a big fucking ask Y/N," he said, his tone starting to scare you just a little. "But..." he sighed. "Hey, you still have some of that whiskey I gave you the other day?" He asked, abruptly getting up from his spot on the couch; his vocal tone completely changing of that of almost pure glee mixed with some nerves.

"Yeah...in the usual place," you replied, pointing over to your whiskey cabinet. "Ben, it's 7 in the morning."

He walked over to your whiskey cabinet and scoffed, as he took the almost full bottle from it. "Okay and? I'm Soldier Boy. I can do whatever the fuck I want."

You rolled your eyes at his comment. "Just pointing it out," you stated. And you don't do whatever the fuck you want cause I make damn sure you don't, you wanted to add. "So, what did you want to ask me? Because I'm sure it wasn't about the whiskey."

Ben grinned. "No, no. I actually do have to ask you something," he said, walking over to you. He stood over you for a second, unscrewing the bottle. "Make it Irish?" You looked up at him, not removing the lid from your coffee as you had no intention of having alcohol this early in the morning. "Give it to me." Sighing, you gave him your coffee and he removed the lid, throwing it halfway cross the room — you were never going to find that lid anytime soon — and poured a good shot and a half of whiskey into your coffee before handing it back to you.

"Wow, you shouldn't have," your voice monotone, taking back your coffee; the intense smell of whiskey now filling your nose.

"No problem Sugar," he winked before sitting back down next to you. Before he began talking, he took a giant sip. "So, Legend came up with this stupid fucking idea that I need some kind of romance storyline," he scoffed. You tried your best to prevent yourself from laughing, but you couldn't help yourself.

Ben rolled his eyes as he watched you laugh. "See? If you're fucking laughing, the world will be laughing too."

"It's...it's not the worst idea but...I feel like you're the last person that can rock that storyline, I hate to tell you," you admitted. "I'm honestly shocked that they didn't pitch that idea to me."

"The only reason Legend didn't pitch it to you is because you already have a known soft side, I apparently don't," he scoffed. "He says I need to be more relatable," he half chuckled. "Relatable my ass," he mumbled.

"You know, showing your soft side might not necessarily be a bad thing for you..." you said, slightly eyeing him.

The way he looked at you, you might of well as told him to go fuck himself. "I'm no pussy."

"Having a soft spot doesn't make you a pussy Ben," you told him. He just rolled his eyes and scoffed, taking a long swig. "Believe it or not, you already have a soft spot, and your soft spot is me."

"Huh," he half chuckled. "Who knew?" Of course he had a soft spot for you. Who wouldn't have one for you? "Then I guess I know you'll say yes to my ask then."

"If you're so confident I'll say yes, then ask me already. I swear I've gotten older since we started this conversation," you grinned.

"Alright, alright, Christ," he mumbled. "Y/N, would you do me the honor of being my fake PR girlfriend?"

You smiled. "Thought you'd never ask."

Tag List: @syrma-sensei @k-slla @justletmereadfanfic @deans-daydream @midorimachisenpaii @rachiem4-blog @jackles010378 @mrsjenniferwinchester @globetrotter28 @deans-spinster-witch @mrlonelycat @zombie-freak @waywardlatina @crystal555 @missscarlettangel @livingordeadwhoknows If you'd like to be added to a tag list please follow this link

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #the boys #the boys amazon #ben x you #ben x reader #the boys imagine #the boys one shot #female reader #reader insert #supe reader

[pennywise-fucker]

Don't Leave

Homelander x Reader

Request: can I get prompt “Please don’t leave me.” with Homelander pretty please?

Warning: Swearing, threats of violence

A/N: I hope this was alright! I wasn't entirely sure how I wanted to go about it, but I was pretty happy with how it came out, hopefully you are too!

Y/N sat on Homelander's couch, seething from the scene he had made earlier that morning. A supe had only been talking to her, one of his supes nonetheless, and he had lost his mind, threatening him. The guy hadn't shown the slightest interest in her, but because she was engaging in conversation instead of fucking worshipping him, he got paranoid. She couldn't imagine how someone with all the power he had, all the strength, could be so insecure. He obviously didn't see it that way, he'd told her several times that it was the principle, but she knew better - he simply thought he owned her and planned to keep it that way.

It didn't take long for Homelander to saunter in, flowers in hand. This wasn't the first time they'd fought about his jealousy, but she was so exhausted by it. "So, I'm sure you're still mad", he smiled, moving closer and wiggling the flowers in front of her. Y/N made no effort to grab them. Homelander tilted his head and rolled his eyes, "Oh, come on, it wasn't that big of a deal", he huffed as he tossed the flowers on the table in front of her, pissing her off more. "Are you serious?", she fumed as she shot up from the couch, "You lost your shit on one of your own people!", she snapped, and he slowly turned, raising an eyebrow at her, "Maybe 'my people' should learn to stay away from my girl", he argued, though not particularly angrily. He had expected the same dance they always did.

"You really think I'd continue to be 'your girl' if I can't even have a fucking conversation with someone?", she spat, and he took a big step forward towards Y/N, narrowing his eyes, "Lower your voice", he ordered before continuing, "Are you implying you're thinking about leaving me?", he nearly chuckled, a hint of something dark in his voice, as well as his face. "I could replace you in seconds. I'm the fucking Homelander", he laughed, and Y/N smirked, "OK, then do it", she challenged, noticing the change in his body language. "Excuse me?", he asked, expecting her to think over what she just said to him. "Then. Do. It.", she repeated, more toying this time. His eyes widened in anger as he approached her, so closely that he couldn't get closer without knocking her over, "What? You want to leave me? You think I'd let you?", he threatened, "You belong to me", he spat. "Then act like it, or kill me", she said nonchalantly, though her heart was racing. He looked at her, visibly confused, and hurt. She had grown tired of the threats. If he was going to kill her, she was at least going to give him a reason to.

"I wouldn't hurt you", Homelander eased, trying to calm himself down, "Come on, you know how I get", he half laughed, half sighed, but she knew there was no humor in him at that moment. "I do. So, either kill me, or let me leave", she blurted, only half meaning to say it. No matter what words left his mouth, she knew it would only take one second of anger for him to kill her. "Look, I'm sorry ok. I'm admitting defeat", he said while throwing up his hands, a forced smile on his face. Y/N kept quiet, just staring at him. Her next words could easily get her killed, but she also didn't want to let it go. "Y/N, come on", he laughed, rubbing both of her arms, looking down at her, "You know how much I love you", he assured her, more seriously. She continued staying silent, not giving him anything to respond to, which made him visibly more uncomfortable.

He stared down at her for a second before speaking again, “Please don’t leave me.”, he said softly, pain in his voice. Y/N licked her lips and took a deep breath, "I don't want to", she lied, "But I need to talk to people", she explained, rubbing her own arms while looking up at him. "I'm not enough?", he asked, almost as if it were an accusation. She sighed, "You're enough romantically. But you can't kill anyone who strikes up a conversation with me". Homelander took a breath and looked around, as if he were considering what she said. She knew he likely wasn't, but it was better than him just killing her then and there. "Alright, alright, I'll do better, I promise", he assured her as he wrapped his arms around her, looking down into her eyes. Y/N nodded, "Thank you, that's all I want", she smiled softly, though somewhat forced. Nothing was going to change, not really, it never did with Homelander, but now she knew something she hadn't before - he didn't want to lose her. If it were anyone else who challenged him that way, they would've been dead on the spot, but he instead at least bullshitted out of fear. That, she could work with.

Homelander let out a sigh of relief and kissed Y/N, picking her up, "Great. Now, onto more important things", he smirked, carrying her over to the couch, "Making up".

*Please consider tipping $1 to my Venmo if you enjoy my writing. It's in no way required, just appreciated!*

#homelander #homelander x reader #my writing #the boys #the boys fic #fanfic #fanfiction #homelander reader insert #reader insert #imagine #homelander imagine #homelander fic #antony starr #supes #villain #writer

[nymphie66]

God Bless America pt 3

Part One

Part Two

Description: Things are back on track between you and Ben, and you've found a sort of peace. Vought is determined to ruin that.

Author's note: This hyperfixation is really serving. This may be the last part of this mini-fic, as I've literally just been writing things as they've entered my mind and they just happen to be cohesive. But who knows! Uni starts up again imminently, hopefully I'll catch a break. Feel free to send in prompts or scenarios and I could probably bang something drabbley out. Also, thank you everyone for your support, I love each and every one of you motherfuckers.

Warnings: gore, darkfic -kinda, this came out slightly fluffy (don't know what happened there lol), mentions of pregnancy, mentions of sex, swearing, implied forced testing, cringey language

S/N : Supe Name

Suit: random office worker that I didn't bless with a name or description

---

You span in your desk chair in absolute boredom, hands on your swollen belly, the only modicum of joy you got was from the movements of your darling baby, only four more months to go now.

Which is why you were sat in said desk chair, in a Vought meeting room with a bunch of suits from HR and legal, negotiating over your maternity leave and, much to his horror, Ben's paternity leave.

He couldn't understand why he would have to take time off as well. As he put it "My part is done, I got my soldiers to your base, your turn to lead the charge." After saying such a thing he promptly had the nearest object in your vicinity thrown at him.

You tried to explain to him, that you would need help as the pregnancy progressed, that there could be complications leaving you bed-bound till it was time to push the little one out into the world, that you could even be hospitalised. You expected him to put his fingers in his ear and start singing the national anthem at you, desperate to drown you out, but what happened instead shocked you.

He stilled, and you could see the thoughts churning in his head, and gradually his brow furrowed and he turned away from you. You walked towards him, arms encircling his waist, face pressed against his back, the texture of his soft cotton jersey brushing against your cheek. You knew exactly what he was doing.

Ben cleared his throat and took a sharp inhale of breath. He couldn't show weakness in front of you, especially not now. It wasn't the manly- let alone fatherly- thing to do. But he felt that resolve weaken by the way you held him so tenderly, leaned into his back so softly. It reminded him of the earlier days in your relationship, when you trusted him so blindly, believed in him so faithfully.

He'd get home from work, usually in a pissy mood, ranting and raving about whatever fuckery his team had put him through. And you would be there, smile on your lips, eyes filled with joy just at the sight of him. You'd listen, never probe but when he was just winding himself up, you would circle your arms around his waist and press your face into his back, leaning on him for support. The action was simple but made him feel like he was your whole world, that he was all you needed, that he was enough.

Things were better now. Ben had followed your instruction to the morbid T, and in turn, you allowed his presence, tolerated it even, though you soon fell back into the trap of loving him wholeheartedly again. The way he doted on you, adored you, the way you were 'his girl' again.

It didn't mean that things were perfect - far from it. You still had the occasional shouting match that led to the replacement of many crushed/shattered mobile phones, and though you wouldn't admit it, your attachment to Ben had become positively possessive. If his gaze strayed from you for more than a minute, you could feel yourself freeze up, a blend of uncouth rage and desperation flooding you that was only sated when he looked back at you again. You were needy, and it was pathetic- to you, not to him, he found it hot as fuck and told you so.

Ben would press a hand to your lower back, hover smugly above your ear and whisper assurances to you, though they were less than PG. Often involving a detailed description of him fucking you in front of whoever you were jealous of. You blamed the pregnancy hormones, but every time he did it you wanted him to make good on his promises and you quickly escorted him to a (mostly) private section of wherever you were.

In fact, as you sat there, listening to the drone of legal and HR, you realised that you had been in this meeting room before. Though you could hardly blame yourself, you didn't really take in decor when you bent over the conference table, getting your brains fucked out. You cursed yourself for not making Ben read that pregnancy book earlier, ever since he found out making you cum was good for the baby, the man was on a mission - not that he wasn't before, but there was definitely an added level of determination that you appreciated.

"So it's agreed? S/N will start her maternity leave now and once she reaches her third trimester Soldier Boy will start his paternity leave." Your Vought legal representative consolidated. You tuned back into the conversation, hopeful that this meeting was finally coming to an end.

"Agreed, we have already arranged for the samples to be taken in the next half-hour if S/N is ready?" The other suit asked, casting you an expectant look. You froze, your hand gripping your bump and leaned forward, a panicked look directed to your rep, but before you could continue the suit continued. "May I remind S/N that it is in her signed contract that sample matter from a resulting pregnancy is legally Vought's to take. This includes amniotic fluid, blood and foetus tissue sample."

You felt your stomach lurch and you swallowed thickly, you didn't argue that it wasn't in your contract, it was exactly the type of sick and twisted clause Vought would stick in there.

"S/N?" Your legal rep asked, seemingly completely unbothered by what was going on. You didn't question if it was safe, nothing that Vought did was ever safe.

You surveyed the room, there was about eight people there, none of them particularly intimidating but that's not what you were worried about. They would have known you were going to show resistance and you now realised that the abundance of office workers was to merely lull you into a false sense of security. This meant one of three things. 1) There was a supe nearby ready to make you comply 2) One if not all of them had tranquillisers on them 3) all of the above.

Knowing Vought it was probably number three.

You could try and do a runner but you would get caught, you could try and fight them but that meant risking the baby. Whatever supe was going to show up would hardly care about your condition and who the fuck knew what Vought put in those tranquillisers.

Your eyes looked around the room, pretending to think about if you had any scheduled plans after this meeting. Your eyes settled on a wonky painting that had been hastily put back up- in fact, you had put that back up after it fell during your 'de-stressing session' with Ben.

Ben.

"Yes, I think that should be just fine." You smiled sweetly at them, "You wouldn't mind me calling my fiancé Be- Soldier Boy to let him know, would you? He likes to be included in anything related to the baby. Plus he would love to know that our little creation is helping advance the research at Vought. Anything for his country- you know him!"

You laughed and waved your hand, praying that they were convinced by your little show. They didn't know him, but it flew that Soldier Boy, the living and breathing embodiment of the good ol' red white and blue, would be behind such a thing. It was for his country after all.

"Great, that's just great. I'll call him now." You took the general shrugging from them as a go-ahead and quickly called Ben, mouthing 'busy man' to them with a big smile as it continued to ring, you were half afraid that he wasn't going to pick up until you heard his gruff voice on the end of the line.

"What baby? Can't even go to a meeting without-"

"-Ben, honey!" You smiled tensely as you cut him off his surely sordid sentence, and prayed that he could pick up on your forced cheeriness, from experience he should. Considering you only spoke in that tone to him when you were threatening to get rid of his baby or extreme violence. "I just wanted to let you know that Vought are going to collect some samples of our little star-spangled bugaboo. Amniotic fluid, blood, a bit of tissue matter, nothing our little super trooper can't handle, especially considering her old daddio! I was just hoping you would be able to join your darling doll at the doctor's, honeybuns."

You wanted to pull your own tongue out of your mouth, stuff it down your throat and throw it back up again.

"I will be right there."

And just like that the line dropped, you smiled, taking the phone away from your ear and holding it to your chest. You gave a thumbs up and chuckled nervously, "He's on his way!" You sat back down into your chair and exhaled, muttering the phrase to yourself again. "He's on his way.."

The time it took for Ben to get there was filled with awkward silence, interrupted only by the odd question from a curious suit about your pregnancy and the baby. Which was met with a vague and elusive answer. There was no way in hell you were going to give them any more information about it than what they already had.

Then finally, Ben appeared, bursting into the conference room decked out in his suit, hair dishevelled, panting ever so slightly, knuckles bruised. So you were right, there had been a supe nearby. He looked at you with a loving urgency and you stood up, one hand on your stomach as you nodded your head. You were okay, the both of you were, but more importantly, you were ready.

Ben landed the first hit and the HR manager's head rolled down the conference table like a bloody bowling ball. You struck next, your unhelpful rep ended up being useful for the first time in their life by acting as a human shield as you burst through their chest and clawed out the Head of Legal's throat. The others got out their tranqs - right again, but you unsheathed your forearm from your rep's chest and threw their body onto them, knocking them off their feet.

"Glad you got the message." You told him in relief as you crushed an approaching man's skull in your hand, blood decorating your face like gruesome confetti from a piñata. You quickly dropped him and continued walking towards your saviour.

"Well at first I thought you were trying something new-" Ben kicked another suit's chest in, smiling as he fell to the floor, there weren't many left now. "-but by daddio, I started to realise that something was wrong, darling doll and honeybuns was then just obvious"

"Oh so star-spangled-bugaboo and super trooper were fine, but you drew the line at daddio?" You laughed, hands on your hips as he finished the rest off. Happy that the threats had now been eliminated, Ben allowed himself to relax- slightly and turned to look at you.

You looked ravishing.

His little psycho.

Your hair was wild, no longer in the neat ponytail you had agonised over this morning. The blood that drenched your clothes hung to your curves perfectly, showed off your baby bump beautifully. The look light and love in your eyes? Intoxicating.

He quickly strove over and placed a firm hand on the back of your neck and pulled you closer to him. How could he have ever taken this- you- for granted. He would damn himself a hundred times and a hundred times more for it. You squeaked at the force behind his kiss but happily melted into it and for a brief moment you thought you were going to have reenact the last time the two of you had been there. If you ignored the background last time, you could ignore the blood, guts and gore that made it up now.

Unfortunately, Ben pulled away, pressing his forehead against your own. You whined and he smirked. "Sorry baby, but Butcher's waiting outside in the car, gotta get you and bugaboo out of here."

"That's not sticking!"

"It so is."

#jensen ackles #the boys tv #the boys #soldier boy x supe!reader #soldier boy x pregnant!reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy #tw: dark content #the boys amazon

[zepskies]

Imagine soldier boy with dating a supe with siren powers 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

Oooh this is different! Thanks for the ask, hun. ❤️ In honor of The Little Mermaid live-action dropping on Disney+ last week...

(Here's one last Soldier Boy imagine before Part 1 of Smoke Eater!)

Pairing: Soldier Boy x F. Supe!Reader Word Count: 800

Imagine: Soldier Boy dating a supe with "siren" abilities. 🧜‍♀️

When you joined Payback, Ben was ambivalent about you.

You were hot as fuck, sure, but he didn't think the team needed another woman.

Crimson Countess was bitch enough to deal with.

But you were a bit mysterious. You kept to yourself, didn't go out of your way to socialize or train with the others. You were smart.

Though when he heard about your powers, he was skeptical at best. Stan Edgar assured him you were what the team needed right now, in terms of margins and demographics and what-fucking-ever...

Until he hears you singing in the break room, softly to yourself while you make some coffee. Gentle, beautiful dulcet tones that manage to draw his steps into the kitchen.

You eventually notice him with a smile. "Good morning."

He gives you a charming grin, blatantly eying you from head to toe.

"Hey there, sweetheart. Pour me a cup, would ya?" he asks, in a tone that demands.

You do so, and he admires the sweet sound of your voice as you continue to hum to yourself.

"You're a little crooner, aren't you?" he asks, taking the cup of coffee from you. But when your hand brushes his, he feels it. Your power. It threatens to overtake him and draw him into you, where he craves your warmth as well as your body.

He wants you to devour him, body and soul...

Your eyes glow violet along with your knowing smile.

Then you blink. The violet haze is gone, along with your hold on his mind. You go back to sipping your coffee as if nothing had just happened.

Ben visibly falters, having to catch his breath as his mind reels from the loss of connection.

Ben frowns in irritation. What the fuck just fucking happened?

He looks at you harder than before. Secretly, he's annoyed and intrigued at the same time.

He demands to know your name. You tell him with a smile that edges at flirtation. When you ask for his name, despite knowing full well who he is, he smirks.

"Call me Ben."

And from there, he's fucking hooked.

He pursues you relentlessly. You allow it with coyness and flirtation -- push and pull. Hot and cold. You toy with him, which both infuriates him and draws him in even more.

Until you finally allow him to "catch" you. He takes you out for dinner, one of the finest, most expensive restaurants in New York. Bottles of wine, premier service, excellent food and music. You realize then that he's really trying to impress you, and inside you're actually flattered that he's doing all this, when he can have his pick of anyone. (And has had his pick. Several of them.)

You've heard so many stories about him, most of them unpleasant. You see the disgusted looks Crimson Countess gives him when he's not looking.

And you know you haven't yet seen the darker sides of Ben. (You know he's trying his damndest to charm you, draw you in. But your abilities allow you to discern when men are trying to manipulate you. You are the master manipulator, spinning them along with your touch and your voice).

But you're also intrigued by this man. He's more than his bravado would suggest. When the cameras and the press and the rest of the team aren't around, he's not quite so insufferable. You find his arrogance, partnered with his charm, amusing. But it's also become somewhat endearing.

The truth is, he's actually...sort of grown on you. And that's probably the real reason you're here on a date with him.

You lean over and rest your hand over his, frowning when he seems a bit wary of your touch.

The first time you met him, you'd just been teasing him. You'd heard how he'd been talking shit about you to Stan, doubting if you were really powerful enough to be on the team. But now, he's stiff under your hand, prepared to fortify his mind against you.

"I won't compel you again, Ben. I promise," you tell him. Your hand travels up his arm, soothing along his neck, your palm finally resting against his cheek. His green eyes stare into yours.

Soon enough, his wariness bleeds away.

He hooks a foot around the leg of your chair and draws you closer, making you yelp in surprise.

He smirks, finally getting the jump on you for a change as he wraps an arm around your waist and brings you close.

You blink in surprise, looking up at his handsome face with wide eyes. A blush dusts your cheeks, warming your face. His smirk softens around the edges, just a little, and he takes his chance to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

And maybe, you're the one who's caught.

AN: Aww, this one was really fun! Thanks for the request. 😘

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#ask me stuff #Soldier Boy dates a supe siren #soldier boy #supe!siren reader #Soldier Boy imagine #the boys #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x you #zepskies answers

[teastainedprose]

In A Crowd of Thousands

He stands straight as a king, expression jovial as he waves to the fervent public chanting his name. The crowd is full of smiling faces. All beaming sunflowers turned towards the sun that is Homelander. The shining beacon of the American spirit. Chosen by God. Vought's golden boy. Everyone beams up at him. Faces full of adoration and cheer.

All except yours. You don't smile. Your expression is cold with dead eyes and gaze level. It makes Homelander recall the first time he'd spotted William in a crowd after all those years. He had the same hardened look. A look that said, I know who you really are.

Inwardly, he scoffs. No one knows the real him.

Idly, Homelander wonders who he killed to earn him such a look from you. He makes certain to meet your eyes as his charismatic smile twists to a smirk. 

You notice. He can see how your chest tightens with the sudden inhale you take, even from his spot on stage. Homelander inclines his head as you step back, melting into that sea of adoring fans.

He blinks, losing track of you in the sea of swimming faces. Another blink and its skeletons with his x-ray vision, but that's more confusing with such a crowd. Homelander shifts, turning his gaze to another section of the crowd as he waves. His smile is fixed in place.

He knows your face and that will have to do for now.

#drabble #The Boys Fanfic #Homelander #Homelander x Reader #Homelander Writing #no proofreading I spat this out yesterday #idfk #MAYBE a scene for a supe antagonist to Homelander #of Edgar's back up plan to control Homelander #I have vague notions forming in my brain #fufufufu~ #yeah this is gonna be a scene with Stray for certain #Stray

[tonixe]

#### ##

#n.o.t.e.s `` Happy New Year, let's start this year off with a bang \\

# w.a.r.n `` Non-con/dub-con, overstimulating, creampie, squirting..., p in the v, penetration, Breeding kink...fingering...cunnilingus

#p.a.i.r.i.n.g `` homelander x fem!reader

#w.c. `` 2.3k

"John," Madelyn spoke out, calling him into her office. She was sitting by her desk, filled with homelander plushies placed on the bookshelves room. As Homelander entered the office, his hands folded behind his back, "You called for me?" he said.

"Well, since your packed schedule and my care for you, you would need an assistant, especially with everything you're doing being American superheroes," Madelyn spoke, placing her chin on her prop-up hand.

"I don't need a babysitter, Madelyn." he shut her down immediately at the thought of it.

"Well, John is not a babysitter if you act like it is," she said as she got up from her chair and walked towards the known superhero in her office.

She kept spoking on, as the homelander kept his eye contact with her, not speaking as she started rubbing her hands on his bicep, "...But you know I would never think that you ever need one, but please at least do it for me, ....John" she gave him a reassuring smile.

"..Besides, she's gonna be here soon; it would let you down if you did have a tantrum now.." Madelyn sat down at her desk.

Homelander's eyebrows twitched as the passive remark that Madelyn said, "I do not throw tantrums-"

"Please, John, not right, no-" she was soon cut off by the sound of knocking

"Just in time, you can come in!" she yelled.

The door opened to attractive looking women wearing long sleeved white shirt with a brown tie enveloped on her body, adorned with extended brown pants accentuating her hourglass figure.

"Hello," you spoke to the two visible adults in the room, giving off a sweet smile to both of them as you held your Ipad in your hand.

"Well, Homelander, this will be your new assistant, Y/N L/N; she'll be charged with your scheduling and social media," Madelyn signed off and turned to the agitated blonde man.

"Im so lucky to work with the one and only Homelander" you smiled at him.

It makes it better since I'm being helped by a beaut like yourself" he gave off his signature smile, the one you'll usually see on TV or when he's on camera.

"Since you guys have already met each other, I think Y/N you can go; I just need to talk to Homelander some more," Madelyn said, crossing her legs.

You nodded your head as you stepped out of the office. As you closed the door, "I'm surprised you didn't hire someone. How do I say ugly." Homelander crossed his arms.

"Why would you think that John" Madelyn place her hands on her prompt on the palm of her wrist.

"Jealously, maybe," as he gave Madelyn a little smile.

"Why would I ever be jealous of another random woman, John" the blonde had a slight agitation in her voice."

"Sure" John ended the conversation and walked out of the office, dismissing Madelyn.

John came out of the office to see you outside the office pressing on your iPad. "Hi, boss," you piqued out.

"Oh, Hi Y/N!" he gives you a smile.

"Oh yea, I was planning to update your account, you know to advertise your movie coming up," you tilted your head, smiling as you pressed the iPad on your chest, pushing your chest up.

"That sounds great," he said as his eyes flick between you and your chest.

"I really appreciate that Homelander!" you gave him one of your sweet smiles; at that moment, Homelander didn't know, but inside his tiny heart, that was a hurtful pang from inside, especially when you gave him that smile. It felt like he actually felt something, looking at your face.

"Uh..yea," his face felt warm, maybe even hot. The first time he started stuttering over his words.

"Anything wrong?"

"No.."

"If you need me, I'll be in my office" you gave him another smile as you walked as he looked at you walking down the hallway, plainly looking at your ass.

As you walked down the hallway to your office, you were busy on your iPad, planning for your plans on PR work for Homelander's brand. You pushed strands of your hair over your ear. You heard an opening door into your office, and a familiar redhead came into the office, "Oh, hi, Ashley." you said to her.

"Hey Y/N, I just want to congrats you on the promotion," she said, as she sat down on one of the chairs vertical to the desk. "Thanks!"

"Oh, I also got you some coffee while I was on the break," she placed it on your desk.

"Thank you again, yeah, it's really something I wouldn't have thought Madelyn would do that, you know." you scratch the nape of your neck, "I totally get it" Ashley took a sip of her coffee.

"Oh yea, also Ashle-" you went soon cut off.

'DING' Ashley's ringtone went off, alerting her of some emails and text messages she didn't get, "Oh Shit, sorry, I can't really talk right now, but I'll come by your office, Sorry Y/N."

"It's okay" soon, Ashley started to scramble out of your office, "Alone again," you muttered.

You went back to working on a draft of your project, hoping for some success in making Homelander's brand since the Stormfront, Nazi shit happened. It was a coincidence that Madelyn would hire Homelander as an assistant; it was the most challenging time of his fucking career. You knew Madelyn was out to get you, fucking hag.

As you gave yourself a sight, unbeknownst to you, someone was watching you through your office.

5 hours later

You were a little bit tired, and you yawned. Your phone alarm went off, it was currently 8:30 pm, you looked outside of the window, it was dark since it was through the winter months.

As you turned off your Ipad and put it in the case, put it inside your bag. You wore your black jacket as you wrapped your scarf and hat.

Opening the door, turning off the lights, and walking down the hallway to the elevator shaft, you were texting Ashley on your phone.

"Ah-" you accidentally bumped into someone and you were slowly falling; you didn't feel the hard ground; opening your eyes to Homelander, his hands were wrapped around your waist.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry," you apologized profusely.

"It's okay," Homelander said; you couldn't hide your red face away from time as he gave you a cheeky smile. You backed away from him as you grab your thing from the floor, as you fixed your jacket.

"Your going home?" Homelander said, "Yeah" you responded.

"I'm just a little tired; you brushed your hair back," you said, "Bye" it was a little awkward after what happened just now; you just immediately ran to the elevator, pressing the buttons down.

As soon as the elevator doors open, you go in. Hopefully, tomorrow will be better and less awkward than today; the last thing you see the door closed is the brief sight of the American flag.

3 months later

You walked into the Vought building, holding your bag as you walked to the elevator. Heel clanked down on the marble flooring, flipping your hair back as you waited for the elevator coming down.

Becoming Homelander's assistant was improving, the elevator door opening as you stepped into the elevator. Fixing up our outfit, as you pressed the elevator panel to the 99th floor, soon the doors closed as you felt the elevator going up.

You took out your phone, looking at emails and some messages from Ashley and some of your co-workers. Scrolling through it most of it, you really didn't care about that.

'DING' the elevator door opened up, and you walked down the hallway, walking to your office; you grabbed your key, unlocked the door, and to a Homelander in your office, sitting in your office chair.

"Good morning, Y/N," the supe said, standing up from your chair and walking to you as you closed the door and put your coat onto the coat hanger.

"Good morning Homelander-" you responded to him, as you flipped your hair back.

"If I could ask, how did you enter here? It was locked from the outside-"

"Doesn't matter," Homelander cut you off; he was now standing right at you. He put his hands on your shoulder as he smoothed them out, "You know, Y/N, you are such a good assistant; maybe the better coming from me would be impressive,"

Everything in your body was screaming as you looked around your office, as you put your hands on your face, covering it up from the blonde supe. "Homelander, uh, what are you doing" as you took his hand off your shoulders, backing up to the wall.

He cups your face as your eye looks intensely inside your e/c eyes, "Y/N...you know," Homelander gives a little chuckle to himself, then turns to look at you.

"You have always been in my mind, every single day, that something from me," he spoke; You were afraid, couldn't really move at all, maybe made yourself feel a little bit dirty, as your legs felt wetter, rubbing them as he kept talking. The fear made you feel a bit of pleasure.

As he places his hand beside your head on the wall, as you look down, turning your head to the side. He brings his mouth to your ear, whispering into your ear, "Your wet," as he removes his head from your ear.

Slipping his finger through your skirt to your panties, his fingers shortly played with your clit, his fingers sinking into your folds, lewd sounds coming from your mouth as you tried to covering your mouth. "You like that, don't you" he whispers into your ear before he makes brief eye contact with you.

"Nn-gah" you whine, bitting your lip.

He starts kissing your neck slowly down to your collarbone, as you felt his beady sky blue eyes on your body. His finger curling up into your pussy, you threw your head back, whining.

You felt dirty that you doing it, inside your office with American's golden boy, especially with being his assistant. You felt heat pooled to your lower abdomen, your face felt hot. Homelander's fingers going in faster into you, as your moans got louder and languid.

"That's right, don't hide your moans" He spoke out to you, as you squeeze your thighs between his arms, moaning out loudly to him. Your orgasm came into you, as you moan out loudly.

Your juices coming down from your legs, making a pool on your floor. Homelander took out his finger, as it was covered with your love juices. Your panting echoing the room, as he forced your fingers into your mouth, as you pressed down your mouth on to his finger, sucking them eagerly. The taste of you coating your whole mouth, you kept eye contact with your e/c eyes with his sky-blue eyes. As Homelander hoisted your waist up quickly slamming you onto your office desk.

He ripped your blouse with your f/c brassiere, and your boobs bounced as he pulled it. You turn your head away from him and bite your finger down, making yourself seductively. Your nipples hardened into the cool air. He started marking your chest. While he took off your skirts and panties. He dragged down his pants, revealing his red throbbing cock, the tip of his cock covered with precum. "Maybe I should make you my bitch, just for me to breed and have my children."

Grabbing your legs and laying them down on the side of his neck, you gripped his forearm tightly as he entered you, adjusting to his size.

As you roll your hips desperately for some friction, "P-lease.." you whispered, biting your lips. You looked utterly pathetic; your tights ripped, your blouse ripped into pieces, and your skirt was ripped, as your panties were probably with Homelander.

"You know, you look really pathetic right now," Homelander asserted to you, "..you should use your words, sweetheart," he cups your cheeks, "Come on, use your words, baby," he wooed.

"..P-please f-fuck me, make me your-" your glassy eyes looked at him, and as you held him before you could even continue, he plunged into you. Your boobs bounce up as he thrusts into you.

Your moans were chopped up as he rapidly rammed into you like a rabid rabbit; as he trusted up, you felt he was kissing up to your cervix. "Aah..N-ngh" whining out.

As you felt your orgasm coming,

"Fuck" he thrusted into faster as you felt some bruising up onto your pelvis; you felt him throbbing inside of you. Your eyes briefly saw white as liquid rushed out of you. Rutting homelander rutted inside you, feeling yourself seeing white. He kept jackhammering into your pussy, feeling bruising on your pelvis.

Your panting and moans are heard outside. "Fuck-"

As he thrust into you a few more times before rutting, feeling his hot liquid filling your womb. Panting can be heard throughout the office

"Not bad," Homelander said through his panting as he tucked his penis inside his boxer and pants, leaving you dripping covered in sweat, cum, bruises, and your ripped clothing. "Maybe, you can be used for something else, like my work bitch, ya definitely that." You didn't say anything, prompting yourself up on your elbows to look at him as he was getting dressed.

"Meet at my penthouse at 10" Homelander looked at you as he fixed his pant.

"Wear something sexy, too" he tilted his head at you, giving you one of his charming smiles, making you wetter. You watched him exiting your office.

"Damn it," you slam your head softly onto your desk, putting your hands on your face.

#homelander #homelander imagine #homelander the boys #homelander x fem!reader #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander smut #the boys season 2 #stormfront #supe #non con #tw noncon #dub con #madelyn stillwell #the boys

[supertrxshwrites]

Cowboy sheriff!Jason Todd (and the outlaws):

* Jason is sheriff and everyone loves him but the reader.

* Reader thinks he’s a sloppy, careless, drunk who only flashes the badge to get what he wants

*he frequents the saloon the reader bartends at and the second they see that red bandana stumble through the swinging doors they know their night is going to get worse

* he always winds up the crowd which always ends in a bar fight which he conveniently leaves before it gets really bad

* his little posse also irks the reader A LOT

*roy is Sheriff Todd’s right hand man and deputy which meant he also had a badge of sorts

* and the woman her name was Kori she didn’t talk much but every once in a while the reader would catch her tussling with some drunk that made a remark. Breaking a table, putting a hole through the wall or causing any other damage in the process

* Anytime a real crime or disturbance was happening the sheriff would take care of it, but in his own special way

* it rubs the reader the wrong way

*every once in a while they run into each other in town. Whether they are leaving the bank or locking up the saloon and he makes a point to say something just to get under their skin

“howdy, nice day we’re havin’”. He says with a mischievous grin as he follows the reader walking side by side at they carry some groceries

“ oh god not today..” they breathe out picking up their pace

“Woah woah woah now hold yer horses I’m not here to give you any trouble sweetheart” he says standing in front of the reader with a shit eating grin plastered on his face

“ what do you want.” They say flatly

Jason taps the small metal badge

They sigh with an eye roll.

“What do you want, Sheriff”

“You roll em any harder, doll they’ll fall right out” he says with a smirk

“Cmere lemme help you with that” he says taking the bag helping you carry it home. Yeah the sheriff could be an immature asshole but he could also be a gentleman

* when the reader isn’t working at the saloon they make food for the men that work in the mines all day.

*sheriff and his cronies take advantage of that and try to get free food

( I’m prolly gonna add more but if anyone has any other HC’s for Cowboy!Jason feel free to comment or inbox mee)

#Cowboy!Jason Todd #Sheriff!Jason Todd #jason todd x reader #supes writes #supertrxshwrites #supes speaks #jason todd #headcannons #jason todd x black!reader #dc comics #batfam #red hood and the outlaws #roy harper #koriand'r #starfire