#;; BUTCHER ;; headcanons.

[mewniemoon]

What if instead of being resurrected and staying their age in the afterlife, the twins instead went back to the age they were when they were last alive (aka, lil babees)?

Bonus:

Nari was not emotionally prepared for this get him some soft blankets to build a nest with stat!!

[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Wearing Their Clothes

Requested: i followed you for succession and currently im the boys brainrotted so you wouldnt believe my excitement when i realised you wrote for the boys too!!!!! i want to request maybe hc on how the boys would react to reader wearing their sweater/tshirts - anon

A/N: My love, the brain rot is so real!!! When I tell you I have an entire folder of The Boys edits, I mean I am kicking my feet and giggling at these people covered in blood lol. Thank you for requesting! Please feel free to again, I absolutely love writing preferences! I hope you like it!!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜

Butcher absolutely adores you wearing his coat. It drives him wild. It started one night where you two were alone, the group split up. While everyone else had their own jobs, you and Butcher were on surveillance. It was freezing out. He noticed the goosebumps on your arms. You swore you were fine, but he could tell you were putting up a front. Oi, just take it. Not wanting to blow your cover and fight, you put his coat around your shoulders, thanking him. It's a long night and you take shifts. When he catches you curled in a ball, his coat wrapped around you, it tugs at his heartstrings. Something about this image of you just makes him melt. After that, he's eager to see it again. Realizing this, you never turn down his offer. Now you basically have 50/50 custody. You like it. It's warm and worn, but it also smells like him and, when you're apart, remains a reminder that he's always looking out for you. Both M.M. and Frenchie are full of jokes when they catch you wearing it, but Annie and Hughie find it endearing.

Hughie loves that you wear his t-shirts and hates it. Not only do you look better in them than him, which is annoying enough, and now everyone finds them funny now that you're wearing them, but now he can never find the one shirt he wants to wear. It's either on your body or in your closet. Of course he would never stop you, he doesn't want you to stop, but he does wish there was a little bit more of a compromise. You wore it the first time you slept over. Your shirt had been discarded somewhere you couldn't find, but Hughie's was right there. He tried not to show it, he tried not to get caught smiling, but he was way too obvious. Something about seeing you in his shirt made his day, his life. It never gets old. When it's laundry day, most of your clothes end up being his. Now he has double the laundry. Still, it's worth it. His clothes always come back smelling like you. When they get ripped or torn from fights you apologize profusely, but he's just glad you're okay. Who cares about a stupid shirt?

Annie has always loved you in her clothes. When you moved in together, your clothes just sort of became jumbled. Neither of you felt the need to separate them, so you really can't tell if the sweater you're wearing is hers of yours. When she buys clothes she always makes sure you like what she's picking out so that you both can wear it. No one even noticed what you two were doing, that one day you'd be wearing a shirt and a few days later it would be her turn, it's just sort of become a thing. When something gets ripped or torn or covered in blood, you're the first to make jokes. I loved that sweater, you say, though Annie knows what you really mean is it's a stupid piece of clothing, you're just glad she's okay, that's all that matters. Your favorite thing is to look at pictures where, in one, you're wearing this sweater and, in the next, she is. Something about that puts a smile on your face.

M.M. feels a little insecure. You used to love wearing his shirts. Truthfully, no one can tell what's his and what's yours, your and his clothes are so blended. Since becoming in charge of The Boys, as close to a leader as possible, he's lost a lot of weight. Grown smaller, and his clothes no longer fit you. You of course still have his old shirts, but his new wardrobe just doesn't fit. You assure him it's just temporary. The anxiety, the OCD, it really hurts his appetite. He can't even think about food anymore. Still, realizing that you can no longer share, it makes him self-conscious. Something about you wearing his clothes made him think that he was there with you always, that this was a way to protect you, as silly as it might sound. Now that you wear your clothes more, he isn't there to save you. It just adds to his many worries. You assure him you'll be safe, you'll always come back to him, but he just can't help it. You make a point to wear his older shirts as much as possible, not wanting him to worry more than he does.

Frenchie literally can't tell when you're wearing his clothes vs. your own. His style is pretty eclectic. His pants alone are bright and patterned and, to his friends, a fashion offense. His clothes are rarely organized, so you end up picking through piles to find something specific. Most of the time you have to point out when you've got one of his jackets or shirts on. He of course thinks you look better in them than him and he makes it known. Your friends make fun of you and him for some of the outrageous outfits you put together. Everything is worn in and soft and smells like him, a mix of cologne and fabric softener and smoke. Not realizing, Frenchie wears your clothes, too. Only when you ask for a shirt back or where it is does he realize oh! so this belongs to you. Neither of you mind. It makes you happy seeing him wear your clothes. He definitely styles is better than you.

Kimiko's entire closet is all black. Not only is it easy to blend in with the crowd, and it all matches, but it can also hide the sight of blood. Neither of you can really tell whose shirt or pants or jacket belongs to who, considering most of your clothes are pretty identical. Still, she'll poke fun at you every so often when she realizes you've got on one of her shirts. Is that mine? She smiles. Is it? You didn't even realize. You always ask her if she wants it back, if she wants you to change, but she shakes her head. She tells you look good in it, badass even, and you shrug it off, though it means a lot. You and Kimiko both are still figuring out how relationships work. It takes a lot of trust, something neither of you were very well versed in. Sharing clothes is just another way you two show that you're a partnership. No one else can tell, but you can. That kind of attention would normally make alarm bells go off in your head, but you know Kimiko, you know she does it out of affection and not something more sinister.

Bonus! Homelander rarely, if ever, wears civilian clothes. If he's not in his suit, he's probably naked. You've never seen him in anything else. The only time he's done it was to see Sage and that was in secret. Still, you find a way to share by wearing his cape. Typically wrapped around you after you slip from the bed, in search of your own clothes, half-naked and embarrassed. He assured you you have never looked better. Homelander likes power. He likes when people listen to him, respect him, and show him their loyalty. You wearing his cape shows him all of that and more. He never thought he'd like you in his clothes, it's just another thing he's territorial about, but he's pleasantly surprised. Now he expects it. If you forget or just don't wear it, his ego is pretty wounded. You assure him it's nothing against him. Now you go out of your way to do so, knowing it makes him so happy.

Bonus! Soldier Boy feels such an attraction to you when you wear his clothes. He doesn't really wear anything but his suit, so one day you jokingly put it on. You filled it out differently than he did, but it didn't look horrible. When he saw you, he was all smiles. The first thing that comes to mind is wanting to take it off you *wink wink*. What was a joke is now something you do on special occasions, putting it on and parading around in it. The things he says are awfully dirty and make you laugh every time. You never thought something as silly and simple as putting on his suit would end up driving him this wild. You should have known, it makes perfect sense, but you just never realized. When he does, on rare occasions, wear regular clothes, he's the first to suggest that you share. It isn't as enticing as wearing his suit, but the attraction is still there. It makes him feel like you belong to him, that you want to show that off. Nothing matters more to him than that. Nothing makes him feel more seen.

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐀 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐲 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

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

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

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

↳ song: rock me like a hurricane—scorpions

masterlist | commissions | carrd

𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐮𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫

• He has mixed feelings about you

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

• “You first, Butcher.”

𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐢𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞

• He fucks with you so hard

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

• “Shut up.”

𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐤

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

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

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

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

• “Same shirt!! Hell yeah.”

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

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

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

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

• “Just one swing I swear—“

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

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

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

• “No.”

𝐊𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐨

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

• “Goddamnit!—“

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

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

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬: 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲

• If the saying ‘this town ain't big enough for the both of us’ could apply here, it absolutely would

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[obsessedwrhys]

hi baby, you can make an hcs of the characters from The Boys with a Harley Quinn! readers?? With all characters including Soldier Boy

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ THE BOYS X HARLEY QUINN!READER

ᯓ★ looots of goofy shit, dark humour, gore, sensitive topics (abuse, toxic relationships, etc), toxicity, reader is fem!!

ᯓ★ Characters included (I couldn't do everyone so I just did these guys, I know yer kind missy 👴): Homelander, Black Noir (Old and New), Butcher, Soldier Boy

HOMELANDER

He's honestly so fed up with you.

Sure he loves watching you mess with people but he does not like it when YOU DO IT TO HIM!!!

"Quinn!" He'd shout for your name and you'd open the door to see him standing outside your room. You laugh when you see him covered in ketchup. One of your many pranks.

"What?? You needed the upgrade for the suit cupcake" You smiled all innocently.

That being said you LOVE pulling pranks on him.

Whether if it's putting hair dye in his shampoo or stealing his suit so he wakes up searching for it.

It's just your favourite thing to do.

There have been times he's tried to kill you due to his rage but it takes every cell in his body to stop himself because he knows that he's not able to do that.

Because why? Because he thinks you don't even deserve to be killed by him directly.

You disgust him that much.

He just wishes that you weren't such a pain in his ass.

If the pranks weren't bad enough that it had him double checking every item he uses, AKA worsening his trust issues. You've also came up with nicknames to mock his superhero status.

"If it ain't the flying dick!" You'd address his entrance to everybody the moment he walked in the meeting room.

Just imagine him suddenly stop and standing at the door like 🧍‍♂️

If you wanna know more nicknames, we've got captain narcissist, america's buttplug and sperm cell.

Trust you are never sent on safely planned missions, only the ones he knows are highly dangerous in hopes of you dying...

There was this one time he sent you on a suicide mission and he was all proud of himself, but just as he thought he finally got rid of you, the elevator door slides open to reveal you, some fabrics of your clothes were ripped and there were bruises all over your body but it didn't seem to bother you.

"What's up toots?" You'd smile even though your nose was bleeding. That's when he looked down to see the head of the guy he asked for you to assassinate.

Who also happened to be one of the most protected men in the nations by the way.

Like how the fuck did you do it?

You're not even an ACTUAL supe!!

Regardless, he has his respects for you but really why WONT YOU LEAVE HIM THE FUCK ALONE.

PLEASE STOP FLIRTING WITH HIM SO CASUALLY ITS WEIRD??!???!?

ALSO DONT PINCH HIS BUTT!!!

You once did that during a meeting and the sight of him yelping as his body jumps was unforgettable!!

You're JUST like a bee addicted to its pollen. P.S, he's the pollen.

BLACK NOIR (OLD)

He.. doesn't... understand you??

Why do you enjoy showering him with love??

You say it's in your nature but why do you always ask to be carried around the tower??

And why does he obliges each time??

Apparently how your mindset works is that you find extremely deadly things to be adorable.

In this case, he's the extremely deadly thing.

With his silent nature, you just NEEDED to get a reaction out of him.

You tried tickling him or making him sneeze but he always just stares at you in confusion.

You can't see his face but you can tell he's giving you the "What are you doing?" Face.

That's when your bright ass thought of a plan.

A dumb and reckless idea... but hey! You have suicidal tendencies so this is fine!

You'd put yourself in danger on purpose just for him to always come rescuing you. He has lost many body parts when doing so but you could care less, you would give him those heart eyes as he carried you back to Vought in bridal style...

Just for the managers to lock you up in a small prison cell to prevent you from pulling more of these stunts.

Though they were never enough to hold you back.

Naturally there would be rumours in the industry if you two were dating and you never hesitate to push those rumours even more.

Imagine for a premiere for your movie, you'd walk on the red carpet in a dress with Noir beside you, still in his signature suit.

"You're looking real good tonight, handsome. I'm liking what I see" You'd say with your arm wrapped around his. He looks at you as you winked at him seductively.

Someone save this poor boy from your endless flirting.

Jokes aside, there has been times he's seen you in your lowest, like that time you trashed your room with your makeup melted from your tears.

Apparently you got rejected from a movie role you wanted to get so badly. Which was Mario but stupid Chris fucking Pratt got it instead.

Seeing the state you were in, he'd grab you by the shoulders firmly and make you sit down, then putting a blanket around you. He'd leave the room for a couple of minutes... to come back with a bucket of ice cream for you to happily snack on as you rest your head on his shoulder.

BLACK NOIR (NEW)

"EW!! Get this mo'fuckin' bastard away from me!" Literally your words when you heard about the replacement.

Is a bit hurt by your disgust towards him??

But that just means he knows what he's doing right or wrong with this new role.

No because seriously everything he does, he would stop to watch for your reaction, most of the time you are never impressed.

Like how he killed those homelander fans to frame the starlighters. He'd hold the bat, his mask all bloody as he turned to see you, arms crossed, no reaction to his performance.

UNTIL at the end of season 4 where he began killing people within the company, that was what got you to start growing interest in his character.

Even though you're fine with him, for now, you really don't like it when he pushes things.

As in trying too hard to replace the old Black Noir. You just don't fw it 😡

"Hey! Hey! Harley wait up!" He'd call out for you while you ignored him and decided to speed walk away. Anyways, he manages to catch up with you.

"The team wants us to attend the premiere of your next movie together.. since.... y'know... we're rumoured to be dating??" He said and you had to stop walking to put your entire energy into giving him the most NASTIEST look. The second he sees you take a deep breath, he knew it was over.

"I ain't yer GODDAMN babysitter, and don't you think that for a second that wearin' the suit makes you my damn boyfriend, alright? I ain't here to hold yer hand and coddle you. I got better things to do than listen to yer constant whining and need for attention. So knock it off, ya copy-cat!" You'd point at him before walking off, hand on your hip.

You can bet that he asks Deep for advices on how to win your heart.

BRO IS TOO INVESTED IN HIS CHARACTER 😭

That's why he thinks making you fall for him is one of Noir's characteristics.

You love mysterious and threatening looking people? Okay gotcha.

You want hyenas for pets? Cha-Ching! Got it!

But seriously someone please tell him to stop before he gets his ass beat. He does not want that Brooklyn smoke.

BILLY BUTCHER

Ah great another crazy chick.

The only possibility to why you'd be apart of the boys is if someone vouched for you.

50/50 it's either Hughie or Frenchie.

Though surprisingly enough, you were the first to notice the symptoms of his virus. Like he could be fidgeting at the office and you'd point it out so casually that everybody turns to look at you in confusion.

Everybody thought you were crazy at first, it's to be expected, but the second his virus was confirmed to be lethal. Everybody has started to take you a bit more seriously.

Read carefully. A bit.

He finds your weapons fascinating though. Like how your gun has words engraved in it, your initials being the biggest. Not to mention the designs being the inspiration of poker cards.

"That must make you the clown" He once said when you whipped it out to shoot someone. You smile mischievously at his remark.

"Oh you'd better watch your tongue before I make you the punchline of my next joke!"

He likes you.

ONLY if you don't fuck anything up.

Sure you guys do argue a lot but theres also strange moments of understanding between you two.

There was this one time he found you alone in the office, your legs placed on the table and you were literally downing a bottle of alcohol. It was when he came closer that he noticed the bruises on your body.

"What the hell happened to you?" He said and you sniffed as you quickly wipe away the tears in your eyes.

"Oh, I'm just peachy, tough guy... Can't you see I'm having a little cry-fest over here after a lover's spat with my oh-so-darling ex-boyfriend. Yeah, he just looooves to use me as his personal punchin' bag, y'know? But don't worry 'bout me. I'll be back to my ol' crazy self in no time. Just need a minute to let the tears dry and the bruises heal"

For the rest of the night he'd stay to talk about how shitty both your lives are. You guys actually BOND over your past traumas.

The booze just making the conversation ever more fun.

Will go out of his way to take you to places for shopping or eating at a restaurant to make you feel better.

After understanding you better, he realised you're just a once normal person who became a psychotic sociopath after whatever the supes did to wrong you.

He may not show it to you but he really cares about you and would not hesitate to protect you despite how much he says he wish you'd just fuck off.

SOLDIER BOY

You have to be some kind of masochist right??

He says the most disrespectful shit to you and you just squeal in excitement from it.

It's starting to weird him out.

Everything he does or say, you love to mock him, like he could be giving orders and you'd be at the back using your hands to mimic his talking like a puppet as you mouthed along and made faces.

But he has to say, he finds your insanity amusing. Because deep down, he sees a tiny bit of himself in you.

He calls you Looney Tunes. Why exactly? Nobody knows its for his own entertainment.

He's into older women but that doesn't stop you from flirting with him. He finds your efforts interesting.

"You're a tough nut to crack, Soldier Boy, but I'll get you to crack a smile eventually" You'd say and it'll be enough to have him grinning at you.

"You gonna tickle me?" He'd say, returning the same energy.

But that doesn't mean he's interested in you, he's just toying with you.

AND YOU KNOW IT. But apparently red flags just look like a go flag to you 🤷‍♀️

Despite that, if any other guy did the things he did to you, he would be fast to knock out the fucker. That's because he knows you value loyalty and he does too.

Everything aside, he really appreciates it when at the end where everybody turned against him you stayed by his side. Just imagine him driving the car while you're in the passenger seat singing your heart out to Cherry Bomb by The Runaways.

He'd simply shake his head with a smile on his face.

But the more relationship develops, he'd actually start to show you his softer side. Not soft side. Soft-er side.

Will literally lecture you into standing up more for yourself and stop being a doormat for every man in your life.

How ironic huh?

"You might act all tough and macho, but I see that big, marshmallow heart under there, sweetheart" You'd boop him on the nose that has him rolling his eyes with a smirk.

"You already said that. Are you a broken record or just dim?" He said.

If you stay obedient and don't push the wrong buttons, he might just keep you around.

[betweenstorms]

Butcher simon who can’t help but slowly realise the portions you’re buying at his are for one person’s only, nd he slowly learns more abt you from the casual things he observes; like your name when you take a phone call, what you’re planning to make, whether you have guests over… and he doesn’t mean to pry or feel anything over it, but he can’t help but feel a sense of pride when you keep coming back, with the same slight awkwardness, slight out of place feeling, always shyly looking up at him before staring at his hands only. (he wonders if you can see him flex his arm more, on purpose compared to the other orders.)

sorry, just needed to share this after reading yours :)

I love this, thank you for sharing! The little details Simon picks up on are so perfect. And the flexing on purpose? Chef’s kiss.

Part Three of What's Between Fridays (previous part) (masterlist) Butcher!Simon x fem!Reader

Simon Riley liked routine.

It kept the world in order and kept him grounded.

And running the butcher shop had always been routine. Methodical, repetitive, and solitary, just the way he preferred it.

He didn’t need to talk much, only sharp blades and clean cuts as his constant companions, the rhythm of bone meeting steel, and the quiet satisfaction of a job done well. He found solace in the sharp rip of tearing flesh, in the metallic tang of blood that hung thick in the air of his shop. It was the perfect barrier, a crimson curtain behind which he could stand, keeping the world at arm’s length, untouched and untouchable. Because people came and went. He watched them all, never really letting anyone into his space.

Until you.

You’d been a quiet fixture in his world for months now, slipping into the shop every Friday afternoon with the same awkward hesitance, like clockwork. At first, you were just another customer, always fumbling with your words, your gaze skirting his as if afraid to linger too long. Simon had hardly given it a second thought, just another customer passing through. But something changed over time, something he hadn’t been able to ignore.

It wasn’t particularly the way you looked or even the way you sounded, it was something quieter, subtler.

It was in the way you lingered—

—like you were hesitant to leave. 

So he started paying attention.

You never bought much, always just enough for one person. That told him more than you ever realised. No ring on your finger, no mention of anyone waiting at home. You were alone. He didn’t mean to dwell on that fact, but he did. He couldn’t help but notice the little things. The slight hesitation in your step as you approached the counter, the way your voice softened when you asked for his recommendations, as if you were nervous about making the wrong choice, about using the wrong words. And the way your eyes flickered over his arms as he worked, not realising that he noticed every glance, every stolen look.

He knew the effect he had on people, especially women.

He was a large bloke, muscular, intimidating to most. But with you, it felt different. It wasn’t just that you were nervous around him, it was the way you’d peek at him when you thought he wasn’t looking.

And he saw it. The way your sparkling eyes flicked down to his arms when he flexed, and yeah, maybe he did it a bit more around you. Just to see if you’d notice.

It was almost ridiculous to himself, how aware he became of his own movements when you were in the shop. Simon, who had never been one for vanity, found himself caught off guard by the subtle shift in his own presence. The weight of your gaze, tracing the lines of his hands, the curve of his muscles, stirred something in him. He wasn’t the type to seek attention, but there was a kind of satisfaction in knowing that, in those stolen moments, you saw him. And somehow, he found that he liked it—more than he cared to admit.

Simon wasn’t proud of it, but he had started piecing things together about you from the subtle details.

Your name overheard when you answered a phone call one particular afternoon. The quiet way you spoke to whoever was on the other end, your voice soft but clear. The small, everyday details of your life that trickled into his awareness over time. Like what you were planning to cook, whether you had guests coming over, even the way your eyes lit up when you talked about a new recipe. He wasn’t prying, wasn’t trying to learn more about you, but the knowledge seeped in anyway, like rain through cracked windows. 

And he found himself enjoying it, this strange cat and mouse game you both seemed to play without ever acknowledging it.

It was the way you two observed each other—never too long, never enough to make it obvious, but enough to catch those fleeting moments when your eyes met his. It was a game of longing glances, of stolen seconds, a tempting thrill woven into the mundane, and Simon couldn’t help but lean into it, enjoying the chase.

It had become a sort of ritual, a delicate choreography.

Each Friday, it played out the same. A dance of soft touches and curious glances, of hesitations and quiet desire, a rhythm you both followed without ever naming it. He’d hand you your package of meat, your fingers brushing against his for the briefest of seconds, and you’d blush, your gaze flicking down to avoid his.

It was a small thing, a passing moment, but Simon found himself waiting for it each time you stepped through the door.

That delicate brush of time where your presence seemed to still the air around him. He’d catch you looking at him more often than not. His arms, his hands, even the way he moved around the shop. You thought yourself subtle, but Simon, who had spent a lifetime reading the unspoken language of people, so he definitely knew when someone was holding back. And yet, despite all of it, you never made a move, never crossed that line.

Until you did.

It had been a regular Friday afternoon, just like all the others, and you’d come in with your usual nervous smile, your fingers brushing his as you took the package he’d prepared for you. But this time, something felt off, as though the sun had lost its way in the sky, casting shadows where light should have been.

You’d lingered just a little longer, your eyes meeting his with a kind of quiet determination that he hadn’t seen before.

And then, you asked him. 

“Are you… visiting anyone during the holidays?” The question had been innocent enough, your voice soft and unsure, but the weight of it hung between you like something fragile, something easily shattered. “I mean, celebrating with your family or…?” 

Simon’s chest tightened at the mention of family. However, the way you looked at him, the vulnerability in your sweet voice, made something stir in him, something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“If not,” you’d continued, your voice faltering slightly, “I was thinking, maybe… you could join me for dinner this week? At my place.”

He’d stared at you, unable to form words for a moment.

You’d always been nervous around him, shy and reserved, but this… this was something else. The offer hung in the air, tentative, like you were holding out your heart, unsure if he’d take it or let it fall.

Simon had spent most of his life holding the world at arm’s length, keeping people at a distance where they couldn’t reach him, where they couldn’t see the quiet wounds beneath his skin. It was easier that way, safer and cleaner. No need to wrestle with the chaos of feelings or the tangled knots that came with letting someone slip past the defences. But as he stood there, your gentle eyes searching his, waiting for a word, he felt something shift, something unsettling in its quiet simplicity. It crept up on him, the realisation, as delicate and inevitable as the tide, that keeping you at a distance wasn’t as effortless as it had once been. He wasn’t sure what it meant, but he knew, in that fleeting moment, something had shifted.

Simon didn’t want to say no.

So he didn't.

“Okay.”

Your face had lit up, a soft smile breaking across your lips as you nodded, the tension in the air dissolving into something lighter, warmer. You took the package from him, your fingers brushing his once more, but this time it felt different—like a promise, a quiet understanding passing between you.

As you slipped through the door, leaving the shop behind, Simon remained rooted in place, his gaze lingering on the space where you'd been, watching the quiet swing of the door as it clicked shut. And for the first time in longer than he could remember, the feeling that settled in his chest wasn’t the familiar weight of apathy, nor the impenetrable armour of his guarded soul. No, this was something different—something lighter, like the gentle stirring of a breeze before dawn. It crept in softly, taking root in his ice cold heart, as though he were standing on the edge of something unknown, the whisper of a promise waiting to unfold.

For the first time in a long time, Simon allowed himself to think about what it might be like to let someone in.

To let you in.

And the thought didn’t scare him as much as it should have.

[awkwardblondiee]

Butcher is the king of dirty talk. Like I’m just imagining he has such a dirty mouth. And he loves to make you blush and shy away from him, it means he’s doing his job right.

“Fuuuck love, you got me so hard right now. Go ahead, feel what you do to me. Yeaaaah, that’s right m’ love, gonna put all this cock in that pretty little pussy o’ yours.

“Aw my pretty little baby thinks she can take all of me? Let’s just see how this tight cunt stretches round daddy’s cock”.

“Now you’re gonna lay there like my good girl and take everything ole Billy gives you”.

“I wanna feel you squirt all over my cock, and I’m not gonna stop until you do”.

“Rub your little clit princess. Make yourself cum, I wanna feel how tight this pussy gets”.

“Thas my girl, takin’ daddy’s fat cock so well. Fuck, she’s so right round me, gonna make me cum so fuckin’ hard. Gonna fill you up till my cum is pouring out of that tiny little hole. You like that princess? Ah yeah daddy knows you’re just as dirty as he is”.

I thinks he is just such a yapper during sex

[ggreyjoy]

rip homelander you would have loved cersei lannister

rip the deep you would have loved oceanographic

rip a-train you would have loved justin bieber yummy era

rip starlight you would have loved rule an amber heard support tiktok account during her trial with johnny depp

rip queen maeve you would have loved chappell roan

rip stormfront you would have loved kanye west before his divorce with kim k.

rip black noir you would have loved inside out

rip sister sage you would have loved the young sheldon

rip firecracker you would have loved to invest in pambicoin

rip soldier boy you would have loved get out

rip billy butcher you would have loved the documentary exposing nickelodeon p3d0s

rip hughie you would have loved buying funkopops

rip mm you would have loved going to watch the 2023 little mermaid film with your daughter

rip frenchie you would have loved challengers

rip kimiko you would have loved having a rhaenyra targaryen stan account on twitter to fight with aegon stans

rip victoria you would have loved pearl

rip ryan you would have loved being in the dsmp fandom

rip becca you would have loved Rihanna at the super bowl of 2023

[gatorbites-imagines]

can i request for power bottom Butcher (the boys) overstimulating subtop male reader until he's basically crying and shaking? :3 bonus points if reader has powers (but is not a sup)

Billy Butcher x Supe male reader

Ficlet

This lit something in my brain, but I am also tired, so the writing might be kinda messy. I didn’t have any specific powers in mind, but spiderman was in the back of my mind, so kinda based off that.

It’s been hard to get in the smut writing mood for a while, so im tryna dip my toes back into it. Hopefully it’s still good even though I’m rusty.

not proofread 🤞

The motel room was hot and humid, sweat running down the side of your forehead and into your hairline. You could taste the salt whenever you licked your lips, the dingy mattress under you soaked from all the sweat and other bodily fluids that had left not only you but Butcher as well.

The yellowed sheets were streaked with dirt from his heavy boots as he crouched above you, your chest shuddering as his strong hands grasped tightly at your calves. If it wasn’t for your healing factor, dark bruises would have dug into them a while ago, but they faded as soon as Butcher left them on you, making him grumble something about supes and their stupid powers.

You were the only one naked out of the two of you, body glistening in what little light passed in through the blinds, your hair a mess and eyes wet from unshed tears. Butcher had only kicked off his pants, even dragging them down and off, leaving his boots on before he had clambered up onto the bed and shoved your legs up by the knees.

Amazon position, you think it was called, something you had only seen online once or twice. But here was Butcher, smirking down at you as you grip at the sheets, tearing the cheap covers like tissue paper as you panted and moaned. There was something feral in his eyes as you tried to hump up into him, but the way he held your legs and pressed his weight down on you made it almost impossible, even with your super strength.

“B-Butch” you pant out, eyes blinking up a storm as you try to find the words, tongue feeling thick and useless, leaving you floundering like a fish out of water. You two had been going for hours, or rather, Butcher would push and pull at you, put his mouth on you, or jerk you till you were almost there. But then he would pull back, patting you on the head and telling you “Be good” before doing something else.

It could be anything from scrolling through the few channels on the cheap motel tv, to him going out to smoke a cigarette, or leaving to just wander the area or going to the store. The last one he had done before he came back to climb on top of you as he was now, his sturdy body bearing down on you so deliciously.

You were so close, close enough that it made you feel like you were about to cry. Something Butcher could easily tell, if the growing predatory smirk on his face meant anything. A warbled cry left you as he pulled up and off you again, a slick wet noise sounding as his hole pulled off your cock. You didn’t need to look to know that your length was a deep pained color, your balls so full and heavy that they felt almost as tortured as your cock.

Butcher laughed, voice heavy and dominant in the way that made your brain feel like mush melting out of your ears. Your bottom lip drew up and wobbled as you tried hard not to beg or cry, vision growing so blurry with tears even as Butcher’s hand reached down and patted your cheek. “Come on pup, you can take it, can’t ya?” he laughed, his voice so deliciously taunting and cruel that it made you throb, precum pouring out of your slit and down your sensitive aching shaft.

“Ya wanna be good for me, I know you do. My little supe” Butcher purred, leaning down just enough to ghost a kiss against the crown of your head. His satisfied tone made the tears spill over, a shaky sob leaving your chest as you dug your fingers into the mattress, a loud rip ringing out throughout the motel room.

The tsk that left Butcher made your heart ache, another pitiful pained sob leaving you. But this time it was not from the gut aching need to cum, but the very idea that you might have disappointed him. As his hand cradled your face more surely, you couldn’t help but nuzzle into it, kissing at his callused palm as you whimper out broken slurred apologies.

The silence felt heavy and loaded, but in the end, Butcher just sighed like one would sigh if they found out their pet had chewed up the carpet. “Can’t expect a supe like you to control himself. But ya did good enough, good boy” he rumbled out. And before you knew it, that tight wet heat was swallowing up your cock once more, punching the breath out of your chest as you keened, lost for words as Butcher started riding you like he was punishing you.

“come on boy, cum for me, show me what a supe like you has to offer” he growled out in that hot purred way, his weight slamming down on you as he worked his knees. You felt dizzy, sweat pouring off your body as you gasped and let out noises closer to a bark than a moan, the noise punched out of you every time his weight fell on your own.

It was almost enough, but there was something missing, even Butcher seemed to realize this. So, as you cried out tears of edging and sensitivity, Butchers strong hand grasped your chin, pressing his thumb and fingers into your jaw to make it unhinge and hang open. Your vision cleared up just enough to see him purse his lips, and watch as he spat into your mouth.

You couldn’t even tell if his spit had hit your tongue before you came, a noise coming from deep inside your chest as your entire body shook, jolts and quivers rushing through you as your entire lower body burned. It felt like you were underwater, his deep voice nothing more than a pleasant hum as he presumably praised you, his body pressing down on yours more insistently until you could only imagine he had finished too.

You felt like a well loved toy when he rose up off of you, standing on the ruined torn mattress as you spread out like an unfolded piece of paper, silent tears still running down your cheeks as you shivered from the aftershocks. A shaky whimper left you as you sensed Butcher getting off the bed and leaving to somewhere, but he was back before you could start crawling out of that blurry but pleasant spot you were in.

Butcher pressed kisses to your sweaty hair as he wiped you down, his voice low as he rumbled more praise and words of affirmation, even though he knew you couldn’t fully register what he was saying yet. His beard tickled as the kisses traveled down to your cheek, before they pressed against your own, Butcher leaving a sweet lingering kiss on your bitten lips.

Easily Butcher picked you up, moving you to the second bed of the motel room. There was no saving of the torn monstrosity that had been the bed he had played with you on all day, with the large rips and the stuffing spilling out. Hed remember to leave extra cash for it when you two left.

With a sigh Butcher shrugged off the rest of his clothes, crawling into bed beside you, letting you melt into his hairy chest as Butcher scrolled through the few channels on the tv. He settled on some Spanish telenovela, a loving huff leaving him as he felt your hands sticking to his chest as you lost grip of your powers. With a last kiss to the top of your head, Butcher settled back, letting you take all the time you needed to come back to earth. After that, he would get some food and drink in you, and a shower, you both needed that.

[amazingmaeve]

PERFECT FAMILY

homelander x fem!reader (+ryan)

summary — Homelander wants to find the perfect mother for ryan since the incident with becca happened. just someone to take of ryan when he’s out or when he’s working. just a maternal for ryan. maybe someone to comfort him as well and that’s where he finds you.

warnings — dark fic, Homelander being a warning in itself, stalking, kidnapping, kinda Stockholm (it’s dark), violence, blood, angst, a bit of fluff

word count —

authors note — I legit just had this idea when I was reading @noforkingclue s fic. so go read that one because it’s amazing

homelander masterlist | the boys masterlist

“Now I know Ryan, no one can replace your mom, your mom is your mom,” Homelander stated as looked down at his son who stood next to him. “But I need someone, maternal, to take care of you when I’m away, even for your stability and mine,” He says as Ryan looked somewhat hopeful. “Now if you don’t want me to find you a new mom I won’t it’s your choice son,” He says putting his hand on his shoulder.

Ryan looked down thinking about it, he loved his mom, more than anything and she was gone, because of him. But if he could have someone who could love him at least half the way she did he would love that. Someone to just care for him like a mother can.

It could be a second chance for him. Even if he knew she wasn’t his real mom, she could love him like one. Treat him like one and he wanted that choice, someone other than Homelander to be a parent.

“Now what do you think buddy,” Homelander questions after a few minutes of silence.

“I’d like that a lot actually.”

“Me too buddy.”

“I’ve been hired by the Homelander to teach his son,” You question with a bewildered expression on your face. You stared at the woman sitting in front of you.

Yes you were a teacher but the kids you usually taught went to the school you were in at this moment. But no one could really blame your shock, you were just a normal teacher at a normal school who taught normal kids. This was on a whole different playing field.

Of course you’ve heard about Homelanders son, everyone on planet earth has probably heard about him. Ryan was his name you learned. Of course you felt a great deal of sadness for the young boy, it seemed like he didn’t have a mother and his father was a little on the crazy side from what you’ve heard. But could you really handle this?

This boy was the strongest kid in the world, and his dad was the strongest man in the world.

Anyone would be nervous to even think about accepting this offer. You were leaning more on the yes side, due to the fact that they were going to pay you a lot of money and since a teachers salary wasn’t much you didn’t really have a choice.

But some other reason inside you felt bad for Ryan, you wanted to help every kid that needed it, even if he was the strongest supe kid. You were also kind of afraid to say no to Homelander, you’ve read stories about what happened to people who said no to him and it made something burn inside of your stomach and your whole body tense up in fear.

“So what do you say, Miss. Y/L/N,” The woman in front of you asked as you looked around at the class from.

“I’ll take it,” You accepted tentatively.

And before you even knew it you signed your life away that moment and you probably could not do anything to reverse it in any way.

Today was your first day to teach Ryan and your first day actually meeting him in fact. You hadn’t even met Homelander who was his father, it seemed like if you were going to teach his son he would’ve at least wanted to call you.

But nope. Nothing. Not even an email.

You shook off those worries and just tried to put a smile on. You didn’t want to worry Ryan and wanted to help him and his journey on learning

Taking a look at yourself in the mirror you put your hair in a ponytail before shaking your hair and pulling the hair tie out and shaking your head and running your fingers through your hair trying to sort it out. You decided that having your hair down was best for you. You dusted off the pencil skirt you were wearing and tried to straighten the lavender blouse you had on. You didn’t even know why you were caring about what you looked like this was going to be just like teaching the kids at the school. But just one on one.

But you knew the reason why you were so nervous. Homelander, his father. You didn’t want to have one single thing wrong with you that would tick him off and him deciding to kill you right there. You were pretty sure that Homelander was a fickle guy due to who he was and to the public. But you hoped that his son being there would stop him from doing anything rash but you didn’t put anything past him.

“Fuck it I look fine,” You whispered to yourself in the mirror before grabbing you bag that had everything you needed in it.

Getting in the car you put the address into your phone and started driving to Homelanders place. Which you had to agree was weird. You thought he lived at Vought and his son would live there as well but no from the looks of it and where you were driving it looked like he had a house in a suburban neighborhood.

The house looked just like any house on a family sitcom. It wasn’t too big, or too small, it was normal. That ticked a red flag in your head because there wasn’t anything normal about Homelander. You were pretty sure he had people dressing him and cooking for him every night and he was living here in this normal house.

You had this horrible feeling in your stomach but you pushed those feelings out as you sat in your car for a few minutes before exiting the house and walking up to the door where you froze for another few minutes. You took a deep breath before pressing your button to the doorbell.

Rubbing your wrist, you tried calming your nerves but it wasn’t working. You had every right to be nervous. This man was the most powerful man in the world and by default the most dangerous man in the world. You didn’t want to do anything to tick him off.

He seemed very high maintenance and wanted everything to be perfect so it confused you why he asked for you to teach his son. You weren’t the smartest teacher out there, hell you weren’t even the smartest person in the school you taught. The question kept running through your brain as you stared at the door waiting.

Suddenly the door opened to reveal the man himself. Homelander. Standing there in his suit with that same smile plastered on his face as he saw you. Luckily he didn’t seem angry so maybe luck was on your side today.

“Ms. Y/L/N I was worried you weren’t going to show up,” Homelander says and you look at him confused. You didn’t think you were late.

“Oh I’m sorry sir I didn’t realize I was late,” You say taking a look at your phone that you pulled from your pocket and you were only a few minutes late. Well you weren’t wrong about the high maintenance.

“It’s only a few minutes as long as you don’t make a habit out of it,” Homelander waved it off as he opened the door wider so you could walk in. You didn’t know what he meant by that. Were you seriously going to have to be here on time every fucking day.

Walking in the house it seemed brand new which seemed about right, since you thought that Homelander lived in the Vought tower. He must’ve just bought it for him and his son, and you were a bit curious about Ryan's mother and where she was. Nothing in the news stated anything about her and that made a child run up your spine about the possibilities of what could’ve happened to her.

Back on the topic of the house. It was perfectly clean and you wondered if a kid even lived in this house. You’ve been around kids all ages and they weren’t the cleanest so to say you were kind of dumbfounded at this.

“Ryan come to the kitchen please,” Homelander called out as the two of you stepped in the kitchen. You put your bag on the table looking at him to make sure you weren’t angering him at all. “He’ll be down here in a second, he’s been waiting for this all week, jittering like fucking cokehead,” He said leaning against the kitchen counter.

The language threw you off. You didn’t take Homelander for someone who swore at all and you shook off the shock and gave him a smile.

“Well that’s good, you don’t see it that often, kids wanting to learn,” You say, wringing your fingers in front of your stomach, the pit in your stomach was still there but it was shrinking as the conversation kept going.

“That’s all what I’m about, wanting Ryan to get a good education so that he can be successful in life, that’s all I’ve ever wanted,” Homelander told you, putting his hands behind his back. “…..And to be honest he wasn’t the only one looking forward to this meeting,” He gave you another smile showing off his pearly whites.

“Oh that’s a nice thing to hear as well,” You say bashfully, giving a smile.

He wasn’t lying when he said he'd been waiting all this time for you to show up. Ryan was wanting to see you as much as he was. It took them some time for them to pick you out from all the other teachers and you were perfect for him and Ryan. You were in your late 20s, no boyfriend, no kids, no family you talk to, and not many friends, or at least he thought that. You don’t go out much. And to top it off you had that maternal side of you, working in a school, you helped kids all the time and knew exactly what they wanted. It also helped for Homelander that you were an attractive woman.

Homelander knew that it was going to take some convincing to get Ryan on board for this but surprisingly Ryan was genuinely excited to meet you, for you to take care of both of them. Homelander need that, someone to help him with this and everything, someone he could come to and someone who would caress his cheek and run her fingers through his hair. Someone who would hug him and let him cuddle against her chest. Someone to just coddle him.

Ryan needs a mother to essentially do that as well, someone who could help him when he’s sad or mad or just confused. Homelander wasn’t good at that stuff so needed someone. Someone that could be at their beck and call. Someone who could help Ryan with school and read him bedtime stories so that he could fall asleep. Or when he had a nightmare and needed someone to talk to.

You were that person. You were that perfect person for them. It would just take some time and convincing.

Ryan came running down the stairs as you said that sentence and ran up to stand in front of his dad who put his hand on his shoulders as you gave both of them a soft smile.

“Hey Ryan it’s nice to meet you,” You say, holding your hand out for him to shake.

You were expecting the boy to shake your hand but he ignored your hand and wrapped his arms around your body giving you a hug. You were a bit gobsmacked at this. No kid has ever been that affectionate. But you did reciprocate the hug not wanting to upset him. He was just a kid.

“Told you he has been waiting for this,” Homelander says, giving you a smug smile this time as you caress the back of the kid's head.

“Sorry just a bit shocked no kids ever acted like this,” You say as Ryan still had his head buried in your stomach.

“It’s nice to meet you as well,” Ryan muttered into your stomach as it was muffled by the fabric of your blouse.

“Ok come on Ryan she’s here for a reason,” Homelander intervened putting his hands back on his shoulders beginning to tug him back but Ryan resisted as his arms stayed locked around you muttering a no into your stomach.

Surprisingly you weren’t scared, he wasn’t hugging you tightly and you weren’t a psychologist but it seemed like he had some attachment issues but you didn’t want to judge too soon. You weren’t privy to his background and didn’t want to make him feel bad for this. To be honest, the maternal side of you was melting from this, wanting to comfort the boy as he stood hugging you.

Meanwhile Homelander was in awe. It didn’t even take you 5 minutes for you to break. You were so perfect for the both of them that made a pang in his heart as he watched you hug Ryan. Although he also couldn’t help a pang of jealousy coursing through him watching you comfort his son and deep down wished it was him you were comforting.

Mentally shaking his head. The time will come, he thought.

“Ryan come on,” Homelander says, giving another tug on the boy he could use his whole strength but he didn't want to hurt Ryan or you for that matter. But he didn’t budge.

You put your hand on top of Homelanders' gloved one trying to reassure him that this was okay. Deep down you this would cause some problems in the future but you didn’t honestly give two fucks at the moment. Homelander tensed as you did that, not expecting but loving it.

“Hey Ryan, why don’t you let go of me,” You whispered, running our fingers through his hair.

“Don’t want you to leave,” Ryan muttered into your stomach again as a confused expression came across your face. You weren’t even here for two minutes and he was worried you were gonna leave. Yeah you knew there was something wrong, this boy was getting attached to your hip and you knew deep down that something must’ve happened to his mother, for him to be attached this much.

“I’m not gonna leave, not yet,” You muttered as you felt him move a bit against your stomach. “I promise and when I do leave, I’ll be coming back tomorrow don’t worry,” You tried reassuring the boy and was a little worried when he gave you a little squeeze at the mention of leaving. But eventually he let up on the hugging.

“Promise,” Ryan says looking up at you.

“Promise, even ask your dad I’m pretty sure if I don’t show up, he’ll do something about it,” You say waving your hand at Homelander.

“Don’t worry buddy I promise you she’s going to be coming here every day,” Homelander promised, giving his shoulders a squeeze. You didn’t want to intervene and say you wouldn’t be coming here on the weekends.

“Okay,” Ryan says, giving you a smile, removing his arms from around you and moving to sit at the kitchen table, where your stuff was.

“Okay buddy lets get started….”

For the next few weeks, everything was going amazing. Ryan was amazing at the stuff you were teaching him and you were proud that he was this smart bright kid. But he was getting more and more attached to you.

To the point that you had to stay a few hours extra, past your planned time and coming over on the weekends as well. Homelander didn’t stop it, he loved it and you knew it but you didn’t know why at the moment. Luckily you didn’t have many friends so you could spend time helping this kid. Plus you liked spending time with both of them and to be honest you were beginning to like coming here everyday, being greeted by Homelander and teaching Ryan. Homelander usually stayed in watching the both of you and you paid no mind, so you didn’t see the longing look in his eyes as you taught his son math.

On his side he was beginning to lose patience and wanted you with the both of them at all times and considered it as he watched over you at nights. He could easily do it. You left your window locked since you lived on an apartment building, you didn’t have any security system, hell you didn’t even own a fucking dog. Honestly he thought your nativity was adorable, you needed someone like him to protect you. He just couldn’t wait to have you in his arms so you could take care of him and Ryan.

You on the other hand were trying to gather up the courage to ask Homelander about what happened to Ryan's mom since his attachment to you became bigger and bigger. It was also quite worrying because Homelanders' attachment was becoming bigger and bigger as well. He was more subtle at least.

Although you weren’t scared of him or Ryan. They hadn’t done anything to indicate that you should be scared. So at the moment you just stayed in your schedule as the times staying with Ryan increased more and more.

On this particular Friday everything was normal as you came to the house but Homelander left in the middle of your session. Muttering something about work. That worried you, you didn’t know what’s going on, and how long you should stay here with Ryan but you tried to brush off the worrying not wanting to worry the boy out.

By the time it hit 6 o’clock you were still worried about Homelander and where he was. But Ryan didn’t know anything which helped you, he didn’t need to worry about his dad.

“I’m hungry,” Ryan stated as the two of you sat and watched tv.

The session had ended an hour ago and the two of you decided to watch tv so that you could help your nerves and Ryan would get a break from school work. But as soon as the tv started the both of you started talking and it felt so normal talking to this boy as though he was a part of your life.

“Oh I could make you something to eat,” You say getting off the couch and he followed you as you entered the kitchen again moving around so that you were in the kitchen as Ryan sat on the chairs that were in front of the kitchen counter. “What do you want,” You question, giving him a smile.

“Mac and Cheese,” He answered with a smile of his own, after some pondering.

You were quite nervous, you didn’t know if Homelander stocked any food here since you barely ate here and Ryan only ate snacks. But when you opened the fridge and cabnits everything was there and you let out a sigh of relief as you started the dinner and began to talk to Ryan casually.

“So Ryan who usually does the cooking here,” You question as you got the noodles ready on the stove, boiling at the point you wanted them.

“Well dad usually gets a chef here since he doesn’t know how to cook and the chef only comes when dads here,” Ryan answered as he watched you cooking. He began to think of his mom and became sad. He sometimes has thoughts about her and he doesn’t like it.

“Hey Ryan what’s wrong,” You asked worriedly, putting your hands on his and rubbing the back of his hands with your thumb for comfort.

“Nothing,” He sniffed, not wanting to cry in front of you. Homelander told him showing his emotions was weak and he especially should do that in front of you as that would make him appear weak.

“Come on bud you can tell me,” You cooed, giving his arm a squeeze. “You don’t have to hide your feelings in front of me Ryan,” You reassured him.

“It’s just my mom,” He muttered as a tear slid down his cheek and you gave him a look of sympathy as you wiped the tear from his cheek giving his forehead a kiss. You definitely knew something went down with his mom.

“That’s fine thinking about your parents especially ones you don’t see anymore can make you sad and make you want to cry and you should, crying isn’t bad Ryan it's good that you can. It shows that you are strong,” You told him in a soft tone,

“But dad said crying in front of people makes you seem weaker,” Ryan says, looking at you with wet cheeks.

Walking around the counter and wrapping your arms around him and he immediately receives it, tightly hugging you and definitely not hugging at his full strength. You ran your hand down his back, comforting him as he sobbed into your chest. You had a feeling Homelander had these values as he seemed like one of those men. You weren’t mad as you know these were taught to him but you were going to have to talk to him about it. Because it wasn’t good for Ryan to hide his emotions especially from his dad.

“Don’t worry Ryan, everything's going to be fine,” You mutter. “I’ll talk to him, don't worry,” You tell him. “And as for your mom she’s always going to be there for you she’s going to be all around you especially in here,” You say putting your hand on his head.

You felt Ryan nodd into your chest as he was still sitting in the chair and you were standing and leaning down. It was uncomfortable but it didn’t matter at the moment.

“Okay,” You say, pulling him away from your chest. “Now let’s get your food ready so you can fill your tummy,” You say, giving him a chipper smile wanting to change the subject. He nodded as he wiped his tears and you walked around the kitchen counter and checked on the noodles.

The rest of the night was spent eating dinner and talking to Ryan about multiple things as his moods got more and more happier and you didn’t really care that Homelander was gone now. You were having an amazing time with Ryan and you definitely weren’t going to leave him all alone here with no one around.

After dinner the both of you sat on the couch again and started to watch tv again and Ryan eventually ended up with his head in your lap as you watched tv. He eventually fell asleep a few minutes after he laid down on your thighs. You began to run your fingers through his hair as you soothed him into sleep. You didn’t want to move him to his bed as that would wake him and you didn’t have the heart to do that at the moment so you just kept caressing and watching the tv waiting for Homelanders arrival.

When Homelander eventually came home it was around midnight and you were still up and to be honest he was surprised that stuck around but he knew that you cared for Ryan and that made his chest fill up with warmth especially when he watched you with Ryan’s head in your lap. God he wanted you so bad but he needs to practice patience.

“Hey Y/N,” Homelander greeted you at the couch and gave you a smile.

“Hey Homelander,” You greeted him with a tight smile. After calling him sir for so many times he told you to call him Homelander and you caved.

“Sorry I made you stay so late. I had an emergency at Vought and had to do some work,” Homelander apologized as he tightened his fist behind his back. He was initially sorry but now he was happy because he could witness you helping his son.

“It’s fine me and Ryan had fun,” You say as you stop moving your hand. “Speaking of him, we should get him to bed it is midnight,” You say.

Homelander melted at the words you said. We. We should get him to bed. As if you were already a family and it made him so happy that you may be coming around to this and you may want this as well.

He nodded and the two of you successfully got Ryan to bed without waking him and you tucked him into his covers and gave him a kiss on the forehead and left the room to greet Homelander in the hall who still had this smile on his face. But you tried to keep your mind on the target, you wanted to talk to him about Ryan.

“You got any wine,” You asked with a tired tone and you were tired but you needed some relaxation.

Homelander chuckled and gave you a curt nod and even though he didn’t drink he knew you had the occasional wine here and there.

Once you got the wine you chugged it down in one instance and Homelander knew he was going to have to do something about that once he got you under the roof. Ryan didn’t need a drunk for a mother and even though you don’t do it often, he knows how addictions work.

“I also need to talk to you about something,” You say, wiping your mouth after chugging the wine like it was your last drink.

“Ask away,” Homelander says, pointing his hand at you, giving you the floor.

“Ryan told me something today that worried me and I wanted to talk to you about it,” You say and Homelander raised an eyebrow at the mention of his son. “He said you didn’t like it when he cried in front of him and other people and I know I’m not his mother or guardian in any way but I know what makes kids turn into angry adults and this is one of the reasons why boys turn into angry men,” You say sternly. “I know you’re his dad and I would normally not even bring this up but I just want to help him and you for a matter of fact and if you want to fire me that’s fine I just wanted to give you a piece of advice,” You say and immediately take a deep breath from all the words you just said.

Homelander looked at you flabbergasted at what you had told him. He didn’t think you had the guts to stand up to him and honestly seeing you angry was definitely a turn on for him. Even though he does think these values, if he wants you to even think about staying with him once he does get you under this roof he has to try it with you. He needs to take your advice even if he doesn’t like it, and he knows once you become a more permanent figure in the house he’s going to need some of your opinions.

“I know I know,” Homelander runs his glove hands over his face feeling out of energy. “I honestly didn’t think about it when I said it just came out,” He mutters looking down at the floor feeling kind of ashamed as though you were disappointed in him and he would hate you being disappointed in him.

“Hey it’s okay I know these things are taught and I’m glad you see these things,” You say reassuring him, also happy he didn’t burn you alive. You cautiously bring your hand to his cheek and begin to rub your thumb along his cheek bone trying to comfort him.

Luckily for your life it seemed like he enjoyed it as he leaned into your hand and slowly closed his eyes at the comfort of your hand. You felt amazing and he immediately preened under your touch and by the sound of your heart beating a little faster he knew you liked it as well.

“You can stay the night if you want since it’s so late,” Homelander whispers, turning his head, giving your palm a kiss, making your whole body heat up under his lips.

“That’s nice of you and I’ll take you up on that offer,” You say, giving him a genuine smile. “But only if you are comfortable with that I would hate to make you or Ryan uncomfortable,” You say fiddling with your wine glass.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Homelander laughs. “Ryan would love to have you here as well as I so don’t worry about our comfort,” He says, finding it cute that you were so worried about his and Ryan's comfort, it also filled his whole body with happiness.

“It’s probably a good idea that I stay here, you have no idea what kind of creeps are out there at this time at night and I wouldn’t want to take a chance with that,” You say, knowing what would probably happen if you did leave and you didn’t like the ending of that story.

“I’ll show you to the guest room,” Homelander states as he stands up and starts walking towards the stairs expecting you to follow him. Expectedly you do as he thinks and follow him up the stairs.

“So anything new interesting going on in your life,” Homelander questions once you reach the top of the stairs.

“Eh not much I don’t go out much, definitely not as much as the people in my age group, that probably explains why I don’t have many friends,” You nervously laugh shaking your head. It’s true you don’t have many friends since you don’t live your life that exciting.

“I get what you're saying, I didn't have many friends when I was younger,” Homelander lies partially. He didn’t have any friends but that’s because Vought was keeping him as a fucking lab rat and he didn’t have any chances to make any friends.

“It’s probably due to my fear of making connections with people, too afraid to let them in,” You say as the both of you trail across the carpet to the guest room, keeping your voices down for Ryan. He gives you a weird look at what you just said and to be honest you would as well. “That’s what my therapist says at least,” You chuckle running your hands over your face as you feel fatigue creep inside your bones.

Homelander makes an ‘ohhh’ face but internally he knew he would have to do something about that. You didn’t need a therapist, especially now since you have him in your life. All that therapist would do is try to keep you away from him and that’s just not what he needs at the moment. He just needs you with him and Ryan, if he had that it would be happiness that he’s wished for, for his entire life.

“Anyways here’s the room, there’s a shower in there and some extra clothes for you to sleep in,” Homelander opens the door as he gives you a look over knowing you couldn't sleep in your clothes.

“Thanks again,” You say, trying not to show how confused you were by the fact he has extra clothes here.

“I’ll be off now, I’ll see you in the morning,” Homelander says his goodbyes, giving you a wave and strolling off to his room but not before you could say anything.

“Goodnight Homelander,” You say.

“John,” He says, keeping his back towards you.

“Huh,” You turn around not understanding what he meant.

“My name it’s John,” He whispers, hoping you heard it and by the extra skip in your heartbeat you did.

“Goodnight John,” You whispered.

“Goodnight.”

After the two of you bid your good nights you both made your way to your respective rooms where the both of you were doing totally different things.

You immediately took off your clothes and made your way to the shower and you were shocked nonetheless seeing a plethora of shampoos and body washes. You tried not to be freaked out that it was the same ones you use, It’s probably a coincidence a lot of people use this you thought to yourself before turning on the shower and making it hot. It was specifically cold tonight and you just wanted to relax.

Once you enter the hot shower your body immediately relaxes as the hot water drips down your body and you hum slowly loving the comfort from this. After a few minutes of just standing there under the water you started to bathe yourself, starting with your hair.

Homelander on the other hand had other plans for what he was doing. He sat his body down on the perfectly neat bad that he almost never sleeps in. Compound V does that to you. He has his body facing towards the room you're sleeping in. He honestly had to have so much self control on not following you in there when he wanted to so badly. With his hands on his knees he watches you undress and get in the shower.

It’s not like it’s something he hasn’t seen before, he goes to your apartment every night after Ryan goes to sleep just watching you do your mundane task. Obviously he got hard from all of this, especially when you took your clothes off or when you touched yourself to relieve stress.

His eyes clothes when you start humming feeling his body start to lock in comfort that he just wishes he could lay down on your lap whilst you coddle him. To comfort him and give him praise. But he knows you're warming up to him as he notices every time you come over you’re wearing some that accentuates your chest so that he would always notice. Your body temperature always rises when he’s around and your heart rate spikes when he’s standing next to you and he loves it. He just loves it so much and he knows how it feels since he feels the same way when he’es around you.

Once you get out of the show you wrap a towel around your body and start to dry yourself and make your way into the room and put on some underwear and an oversized shirt. You don’t even want to know where he got this shit from. You’re just so tired that once your head immediately hits the pillow you're out like a light. But some of it was due to the wine you have to admit.

After about an hour into your sleep Homelander makes his way into your room and he knows you're asleep by the way you snore quietly into the pillow. He notices that you left the light on and he knows that you have the tv on at your home and he wonders if the dark scares you. He shakes those thoughts out of your head as he comes to stand next to the bed and brings his now ungloved hand to caress your cheek.

Luckily for him your body is facing him so he has more leeway. His thumb gently strokes your cheekbone as you sleep and he’s noticed that you were a deep sleeper from the first time he’s entered your apartment. Homelander just loves everything about you even though he thinks humans are beneath him, you don’t count as one of those. You’re special.

Leaning down gently he presses his lips to your forehead. He makes an exit out of the room knowing the next time you sleep here it would be in his bed one way or the other.

The moment you wake up you go to the bathroom and brush your teeth before looking through the drawers and finding that there were some jeans and you immediately thanked god as you put them on and made your way down the stairs knowing it was only 9 o’clock in the morning. Luckily you didn’t have to teach today which caused some stress to exit your body.

Your stomach was growling from hunger and you knew you had to eat something and while you were at it you could make something for John and Ryan as well to thank them for letting you stay here.

Once you got the pancakes ready someone in front of the kitchen counter said. “Hello,”

You jump and immediately turn around to see Homelander standing there with a grin etched onto his face as he watches you cook.

“God John you scared the absolute shit out of me,” You let out a deep breath as he gives you this warm look that makes your body heat up. You’ve always thought he was attractive but you can’t help the ways he makes your heart skip a beat.

“Sorry once you woke up, that woke me up and I came down here wondering what you were doing,” Homelander softly says and you give him a confused look. “Super hearing and a very light sleeper,” He says pointing to his eyes and you have a look of realization on your face.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to wake you I just wanted to thank you for letting me stay here and what other way to thank you by making you and Ryan breakfast,” You rush out not wanting to make him mad but in reality nothing you did could ever make him mad at you.

“Don’t worry, it’s sweet that you thought of it and I know Ryan will love it, he usually wakes up around this time so, perfect timing,” Homelander says clapping his hands. “So how’d you sleep last night,” He questions.

“Amazing, the bed was so comfortable that I’m kinda upset that I have to sleep on my own mattress tonight,” You laugh as you take a bite out of the pancake.

Homelander subtly frowned that he forgot that you weren’t going to be here tonight and suddenly he felt his heart race at the thought of that. But on the other hand he was glad that you didn’t want to leave the house, it showed that you were comfortable around him and in his house. He was going to have to move the date of his plan soon because he was going crazy at the thought of you not being here for him or for Ryan.

“Well you’re more than welcome to stay another night, and it makes me happy to know that you feel comfortable here,” Homelander says.

“I just- I don’t know it’s just something about this place and about you and Ryan that makes this place so homey,” You tell him fiddling with your fingers.

“You know that makes me really happy to hear,” Homelander says with a chuckle, making you smile at him.

Suddenly you hear Ryan come running down the stairs and that makes you break out in a grin as he comes into the kitchen with a huge grin on your face.

“You’re still here,” Ryan says with happiness written all over his face alongside the huge smile on his lips. He comes up and wraps his tiny arms around your waist giving you a squeeze and you wince a little. When he usually hugs you, he’s gentle but sometimes he forgets his own strength and squeezes a bit too hard. But it never caused any long term damage and you could handle it since he was so happy to see you.

“Of course I am buddy I would never leave without saying goodbye to you,” You say leaning down and kissing his forehead while putting your arms around his shoulders giving him a squeeze too, not as hard as his but a squeeze nonetheless. “But I am going to have to go home soon you know that right,” You say not wanting to lead the poor kid on that you’re staying here forever.

“No I don’t want you to go,” Ryan sternly mumbled into your stomach as you felt his shoulders stiffen and you looked up and saw Homelander with a melancholy expression on his face and you frown in confusion.

“I know Ryan but you know you’ll see me soon, I’m not going to up and leave you forever,” You try to reassure him but giving his head a light caress.

“But why can’t you just stay here, it would be easier for you, and you wouldn’t have to drive here everyday and-and you wouldn’t be worried about the time,” Ryans words stumbled out of his mouth.

You didn’t know what to say to that, it was still obvious that Ryan wanted you here all the time and now it was bigger than the first day you met him and your heart started to race as the thought that you let this happen. You didn’t want to hurt Ryan, he’s such a sweet boy and you never want him to be sad but you can’t just break these boundaries. Even though deep down you know you’ve already broken a lot of boundaries.

“Ryan sweetie I know you don’t want me to leave but-,” You say but you were interrupted by Ryan.

“No don’t leave, please just don’t leave, dad make her stay,” Ryan says as he starts to cry into your stomach and you feel your throat start to dry up and your eyes begin to water.

His arms tightened a bit more and you held in a whimper not wanting to upset Ryan even more, you knew he didn’t want to hurt you so you just stood there and caressed his hair trying to remain calm.

“I know you’re upset Ryan and and you just- your dad can’t-,” You began to say again but this time you were interrupted by the man you were talking about and you were relieved at first but once the words came out of his mouth your heart rate increased.

“Okay I’ve had enough of this I didn’t want this to be today but it can’t go on like this anymore, you’re staying here and that’s final,” Homelander sternly said pointing this finger at you as you stood there agape at what he just said.

You could feel yourself stiffen and begin to sweat a bit as nervousness began to set and you swallowed as you tried to keep your calm but you were sure he could hear your heartbeat. Suddenly there was this knot in your stomach, the type of know that made you want to throw up and pass out, but with Ryan’s vice grip around you couldn’t even move.

“Homelander- John I can’t just stay here I don’t live here,” You rush out as you try to keep your breathing calm.

“Well know you do,” Homelander snapped. “I know this might be upsetting for you at first but soon you’ll love it here and I know you love it here when you come here everyday so why not just stay here,” He says trying to calm you down as he hears your heart increase and your breathing become more shallow.

“Because I don’t fucking live here John,” You snap giving him an angry look as Ryan nuzzles into your stomach and you can tell he’s starting more anxious due to the fighting but right now his father was being unreasonable.

“Hey you watch your language in front of my son,” Homelander snaps at and you swore you could see his glow red for a second and then you felt your stomach fall to your ass as your hands began to shake while you were caressing Ryan’s head.

You tried to say something but nothing came out as your breathing became more and more erratic as the reality of your situation began to flood your head. You felt a few tears roll down your face as you bit your lip trying to keep your sobs in. Breathing in and out you tried to calm yourself down but it wasn’t helping. When panic attacks usually happen to you, doing that usually helps but it’s not.

Homelander closed his eyes as he listened to your uneven breathing. This isn’t how he wanted to do this but, Ryan was freaking out and it was going to happen sooner or later so he just figured that why it not me now. He knew it would take time for you to settle but soon it would be like paradise for all three of you, he knew it.

“Okay Ryan bud,” Homelander came around the kitchen island to put his hand on Ryan’s other shoulder to get his attention as you looked up at him with fear in your eyes. “Why don’t go outside and play for a bit while me and Y/N talk okay,” He says, squeezing his shoulder.

“Why,” Ryan grumbled into your stomach and you closed your eyes as you felt Homelanders hand run down your arm.

“We just need to talk and situate everything,” Homelanders said. “Don’t worry she’s not leaving you can count on it,” He says as he gives you a look. Ryan doesn’t move and Homelander sighs. “Isn’t that right Y/N you’re not going to leave,” He says and Ryan looks up at you.

“Uh yeah,” You say as a tear trails down your cheek you put your hand on Ryan’s cheek. “Don’t worry about me, I'm staying,” You say with a tremble in your voice.

Ryan nods and gives you one last squeeze before running out. You rub your sides as you try to keep calm. You stand completely still as Homelander approaches you and puts his hands on your cheeks wiping the tears. You let out a little whimper not knowing what he was going to do.

“Don’t worry I’m not going to hurt you, I would never hurt you,” Homelander says at least not on purpose he thinks. “I know this must be hard to deal with but trust me when everything falls into place you are going to LOVE it, you won’t have to worry about anything any more,” He says giving you a pleading look.

“Homelander-Homelander-,” You stutter trying to begin your sentence but you were interrupted again by him.

“Don’t call me that, call me John,” Homelander says with annoyance coming across his features.

“John,” You begin to say. “I know it must be hard being a single dad but I-I can’t stay here,” You tremble underneath his hands as he looks at you in what you could describe as disappointment.

“Yes you can, you can stay here and take care of Ryan and take care of me, you can quit your job, you won’t have to worry about having to pay bills anymore, or about how you’re gonna eat with what money you have. You won’t have to worry about the guy who keeps fucking harassing everytime you leave your apartment. You just won’t have to worry,” Homelanders rants and your face looks as if you’ve seen a ghost. “I love you,” He whispers as he

You’ve never told him about your money problems. You never told him about your neighbor Ted who keeps flirting with you and groping you, and that information makes you stare up at him in shock. But on the other hand it feels nice to have someone wanting to take care of you, to care about you, to make sure you’re okay. Someone just to love you. You haven't been in a relationship in such a longtime that this is making you almost want to smile up at him.

“John I-I If you felt this way about me this isn’t how you go about it, you ask me on a date and then we work up to it,” You say, hesitantly raising your hand and putting your hand on his cheek giving it a gentle caress.

“I knew you weren’t going to like this but it’s a part of the risk, I need you here, and I know in due time you'll realize how right I am,” Homelander whispers as his lips hover over yours.

“I-I what about my stuff? What about my life?,” You say as the panic starts to come back.

“Don’t worry I’ll go and get it and you’ll feel like you’re just at home,” Homelander says before giving you a short peck on the lips. “Now,” He claps. “That's settled, I can finally relax and eat those pancakes that you made,” He says before sitting down.

You give him a wary look as he gives you a wink before delving into the food.

It’s been a few days since the whole Homelander kept you here and you were in denial for a bit. You thought he would send you home and that this whole thing was a prank and you could go on with your normal life.

But reality sunk in when Homelander moved your stuff into the room you slept in. You cried yourself to sleep that night not knowing what you were going to do. But you were woken up to Ryan shaking you and going on and on about how happy he was that you were here.

You didn’t want to admit it but it made you happy that Ryan was so happy to have you here but you wanted to keep a hold of your sanity, not wanting to fall into the trap. But you knew that you were going to give in, it was just a matter of time and you also knew that you didn’t mind it.

The past few days though Homelander has barely been at the house making you wonder if you could actually get away with packing and leaving. You could just run but it didn’t matter anymore, he would find you. No matter what. How could you run from him, he probably had eyes on you this whole time. You didn’t want to be on the reciprocating end of his anger so you just decided to stay put.

Another reason was Ryan. You didn’t want to leave him alone. You didn’t want him to feel abandoned by you, he’s already been through so much and you did want to help him and in the end you just decided that you would suck it up for Ryan. You would do this for him.

And he was so happy every day when he woke up he came to your room and climbed into your bed whilst resting his head on your chest. The two of you talked like it was just a normal day and you wanted it to stay like that.

But while Homelander was gone, you found yourself missing him, maybe this was Stockholm settling in but your heart was starting to ache for him. You wanted to feel his touch and feel his love, you couldn't keep that from him, he would just hear your heartbeat.

On the fifth night you were sitting on the couch with a glass of wine as you watched tv. You just put Ryan to bed a few hours ago and you wanted to catch up on some of the tv shows you watched.

Suddenly a whoosh made you jump a little and turn around to see Homelander standing there with a look of sadness on his face. His shoulders were slumped as he looked at you and it made you want to coo at him and ask what’s the matter.

“John, where’ve you been,” You say softly as he shakes his head softly and feels his heart race at the thought of you being worried.

“You’re not mad at me…. Anymore?” Homelander questions with a sullen tone and with a little pout on his lips that almost made your lips quick in a smirk but decided against it just in case that would make him angry.

“John you have to understand why I’m mad, you’d be angry if you were in my position, hell you’d probably set the house on fire if you were in my position,” You say with a tiny chuckle.

“I just don’t want to make you angry at me, I did what I did for my son and…. For you,” Homelander whispers as rounds the couch you were sitting on and points at the seat next to it subtly asking you if he could sit.

You nod and he sits next you and his body stiffens as he does not know what to do. You notice his saddened look and you feel your heart skip a beat at that.

“C’mere,” You sigh, opening your arms and the two of you lay down on the couch with Homelanders neck nuzzled into your neck and you running your fingers through his hair and he lets out a sigh of relief.

Meanwhile your other hand carefully caresses down his back trying to make him more happy and as you place a kiss on his forehead, you can feel him smile into your neck making your heart race.

His hands carefully wrap around your waist as he minds his strength while hugging you. This is heaven to him. This is what makes him happy.

As you keep running your fingers through his hair, he rubs his nose against your clavicle and gives you a few kisses there that makes a shiver run down your spine and you don’t want him to notice but he does and he gives your hip a squeeze. He knows you don’t want to admit it deep down that you like it but he can feel that you do. You love it.

“I’m glad we’re finally making progress,” Homelander whispers into your ear giving you a kiss right below it and you shake your head and chortle. “You’ll love it soon enough.”

“I just know it.”

And deep down he was right and you knew that.

[doll3tt33]

୨ৎ c.ai filter breaking w/ my Homelander bot

Warnings: smut, threats of violence, p in v, degradation (emphasis on this), Homelander’s god complex

Take a shot everytime mans says the words ‘weak’ and ‘pathetic’ 💀 fr tho, most of these are from the same couple messages but regenerated so don’t question the repetitiveness 😭😭

╰➜ Link to the bot

IM SO MAD THAT THE FILTER CUT OFF THIS RESPONSE MSJWKW IT WAS GETTING SO GOOD WTF

He still wanted a round two afterwards like bro CHILL WTF-

Also yes I’m using this as a way to say I’m gonna be posting The Boys content on here ((will still post for evan characters obv

I’m just in desperate need of moots who’s in The Boys fandom- 😔😔 so if anyone wants me to make this bot public, lemme know

divider credits: @/dollywons

[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Taking Care Of You When You're Drunk

A/N: Not requested, just an idea I had! Still not feeling great, but I will definitely get back to requests tomorrow :) This is just a lil thank you for your patience my loves! Feedback is always appreciated! 💜

Butcher notices you've been drinking a lot more than usual. Ever since you found out he was dying, you've been trying not to think about it or worry about it, and the only way you can do that is by drinking. Getting drunk is just a fun side effect. He'll drive you from the bar, taking your shoes off before tucking you into his bed. He hates the idea that you're hurting yourself like this because of him, because he didn't listen to you and he took the V without regard to his or your safety. The least he could do was hold your hair while you threw up and bring you a glass of water and some Tylenol. You don't talk about it, though. You don't want to talk about him dying, you don't want to face that future, and you don't want to talk about your growing problem. You were drinking on the job, too, maintaining a certain numbness so that nothing else could hurt you.

Hughie hates that you're drinking more. He understands why. More and more stuff just keeps going wrong. More and more issues pop up. It's hard to be positive or optimistic. It was easier to find your way to the bottom of a bottle than to come face to face with any of this stuff. He doesn't mean to pry, but he asks you a lot of questions. The main one is why are you doing this? You just shrugged. It's so hard to explain. Everything feels like too much. You were tired, and scared, and you weren't sure you wanted to do this anymore. What was the point? He tried to cheer you up. You had the serum in the severed leg, you were so close, why give up now? You wanted to be that hopeful. You really did, but you couldn't.

Annie definitely lectures you. This is the third night in a row (this week alone) where the bartender called her, your emergency contact, taking your keys from you. You've been drinking a lot more, ever since you left The Seven and joined The Boys. You worked with Vought for so long, she knew there was a lot you weren't saying. She tried to talk to you about it, but you were so cagey, shutting her out instead. Shutting everyone out. It was awful, that much she knew. Still, everyone went through something. That didn't give you the right to get as drunk as you were as often as you were. You're barely listening, but she gives you her speech anyways. She'll keep telling it to you until something changes.

M.M. hates taking care of you when you're like this. The biggest thing he can't stand is the vomit. He stays as far away from you as possible, yelling from the across the room if you're okay. He offers hand sanitizer and napkins and mouthwash, but he refuses to get any closer than that. The noises alone make his skin crawl, let alone the smell. He's in charge now. He feels like he has to take care of everyone, regardless of the issue. You getting drunk wasn't a problem yet, but he knew he'd have to talk to you if it got worse. Drinking every night just to function during the day wasn't you. You couldn't keep going on like this. If that included tough love, so be it. You needed to hear it.

Frenchie drinks with you. He never goes as far as you, realizing that at least one of you should be slightly more sober. He doesn't really mind when you get drunk. Something happens with you. You become happier, sillier, more fun. You smile and laugh more. He likes seeing that. He likes knowing you're at least a little happier. Life had become so hard lately. Your past was catching up with you, and you didn't know how to handle it, so you got drunk. He understood the concern from everyone else, but he knew yelling and lecturing would change anything. At least he could be there for you. At least he could take care of you and laugh with you and be there. That's all you really needed.

Kimiko is quite gentle when you're drunk. She walks you home from the bar and takes off your shoes and asks you questions: Are you nauseous? Are you hungry? Thirsty? She gets it. When she saw the posters of the Shining Light Liberation Army, she drank more than a few beers. Anything she could get her hands on. Sometimes, you just need a little liquid courage to face the hard things. She makes sure you have pain relief for the headache you'll feel tomorrow and gets you something greasy to put in your stomach. She doesn't like or want to villainize your actions. You were all tired of this, fighting a battle you could not win. She stuck up for you when the others thought you were being messy or stupid. You just needed some time, that was all.

Bonus! Homelander thinks you're messy, a degenerate, and he won't tolerate it. When he knows you're drunk or hungover he makes a special point to seek you out, to punish you. You're a member of The Seven, you should act like it. The same way it infuriates him when Sage lobotomizes herself, he feels that when you start drinking. You have a public image to uphold. Even when you go out in civilian clothes, anyone could spot you. Anyone could ask for a photo or ask questions. It was stupid and selfish and reckless and as long as he's in charge, he won't tolerate it. He humiliates you, he says, because he cares. You think it's because he likes having power over you when you're at your most vulnerable.

Bonus! Soldier Boy thinks you're a lightweight and calls you out on it any chance he can get. There's no keeping up with him. Even being a Supe, you could still get incredibly drunk. Your tolerance was a lot higher than humans, but nowhere near Soldier Boys. He doesn't really take care of you when you're drunk. It's more like lying you on your side and leaving you to sleep. He's not very caring towards anyone, let alone someone he considers lesser than himself. He's fun to drink with, but the fun pretty much stops there. If he's feeling extra considerate, he might throw a blanket over you, but that's as far as he goes. He'll leave you and keep on drinking for the rest of the night. You being drunk won't put a damper on his legendary partying.

[sketchyfandomgirl]

Thinking of Simon who actually gets excited to teach/talk about the process of butchering, showing off the whole process from start to end.

[bohemianblasphemy]

NSFW softy butcher head cannons? i think we need more gentle butcher around here. ur onto something with this.

soft nsfw Billy? you got it ✨

- praises the absolute shit outta you. When rocking his hips against yours, he whispers the sweetest words imaginable. He wants to make sure you know that you make him feel as good as he makes you feel.

“you feel so good around me sweetheart… so so good f’me…”

“taking my cock so well lovey…”

“i can’t believe you’re mine…”

- would get on his knees and worship you- running his hands all over your body, feeling your soft skin under his rough palms, kissing your stomach, hips and thighs like there’s no tomorrow.

- the way he’d look up at you as you slowly ride him?? his furrowed eyebrows and throwing his head back amongst the pillow???

- relishes in the sounds that you make, it makes him shiver.

- wants to be able to look at you as he fucks you. He wants to see your pleasured facial expressions and would get off on just watching you.

- moans/whimpers when he goes down on you. he cannot get enough of the way you taste and will wanna be in between your thighs for hours- making you cum over and over until his beard is soaked in your essence. he’s also cum more times that he would admit to by just being between your legs.

- sets the mood and is bit cheesy about it. i’m talking candles, soft music, laying on the bed suggestively with a rose in his mouth vibe - he likes to make you giggle and feel comfortable with him.

- cuddles after sex. it’s just a given that he’s a cuddler- wrapping his arms around your waist, tracing nonsensical shapes along your back and your sides, looking into your eyes with a loving gaze, basking in your post sex glow.

[betweenstorms]

butcher!simon… he’s so husband… his big rugged calloused arms… you know how those men are… arms the thick and strong, veiny but not in a way a nurse/vampire would love, but in a way you can see subtle long bump of it through the length of his tattooed sleeve… my gosh. i despise going to a butcher shop bcs i'm sensitive to the smell and loud noises scare me but for butcher!simon ? i'd deliberately buy just enough meat for one day worth of my meal + extra portion to give to him the next day as i go for another cut of meat… i'd bat my lashes and sweetly ask "i want to make soup… which cut do you think will cook quickly ?" ARGH. and like use scrap bones and veggies to make cream mushroom soup at the end of the week and pack it nicely with fresh sourdough… and on thanksgiving of christmas i’d take it as my chance to ask “celebrating christmas with your family ?” as a way to invite him to my homeeee aaaaa 😫😫😫😫😫😫😫

I love this so much anon! This is how I imagine the situation...

Part Two of What's Between Fridays (previous part) (next part) (masterlist) Butcher!Simon x fem!Reader

The scent of the small butcher shop never quite sat well with you.

It clung to the air, thick and metallic, mingling with the cold chill of the room. No matter how many times you stepped through the door, the sharp tang of raw meat always hit you, a sour note that made your nose twitch. And yet, you found yourself there almost every Friday afternoon, drawn by something far stronger—something that had nothing to do with the cuts of meat behind the glass.

Simon Riley.

He always stood behind the counter when you came in, broad and imposing. His bulky arms marked with the same ink that wrapped around his soul like a storm cloud, curling up his forearms like violent vines, disappeared beneath the rolled-up sleeves of his worn shirt. You had traced them in your mind a hundred times, wondering where they began and where they ended.

His presence commanded the room without a word, the quiet strength of a man who had spent years carving through flesh and bone. He moved with the ease of someone who knew his power but never flaunted it, his hands deft and skilled as they handled the cleaver with a precision that was almost artful.

You were never sure how to explain the pull that kept you coming back, your heart a little too quick in your chest every time he glanced up, those dark hazel eyes catching yours with an intensity that almost made your breath hitch.

Perhaps it was the way his silence spoke louder than words, the way he listened without speaking, as if he could hear the questions you didn’t dare ask. Or maybe it was the way his presence lingered, even after you’d left, a shadow that clung to your thoughts like the scent of the butcher shop clung to your clothes.

You came back that Friday afternoon too, the bell above the door chiming softly as you stepped in.

The air was cool and hard, and there was Simon—his name stitched onto the apron that hugged his broad chest. You murmured a soft hi as you neared the counter, your eyes drifting over the display, but you felt his gaze settle on you, intense and unyielding. His eyes were sharp, like the blade he held, cutting through your flesh and bones, leaving you exposed and raw.

“I want to make soup... which cut do you think would cook quickly?” you had asked him once, your voice barely above a whisper, breaking the heavy silence between you, your wide eyes filled with quiet devotion as you waited for his answer.

Simon’s head tilted slightly, those sharp eyes narrowing just a fraction, like he was studying you, as though your question held layers he hadn’t yet peeled back.

His hand moved to the display, selecting a small cut of meat with the same deliberation he used in everything.

“These'll do,” he said, his voice low, a rumble that seemed to fill the quiet space between you.

When he handed you the package, your fingers brushed his, and the warmth of his skin against yours was enough to send a shiver down your spine, despite the cold of the shop.

You took the package, your heart fluttering in a way that had nothing to do with the cold. For a moment, you stood there, unsure of what to say, but then his gaze softened, just slightly, and you felt the tension ease from your shoulders. You smiled, murmuring your thanks, the sound of his voice still echoing in your ears as you left, feeling the weight of his gaze linger on your back long after the door closed behind you.

Weeks had passed since then, and yet, like clockwork, you returned every week. The butcher shop had become more than just a place to buy meat. Visiting him, Simon, was a quiet ritual, one that you couldn’t seem to break. 

You hadn’t known how it started, but after a while, you began bringing him food. At first, it was just a small gesture—a way to thank him for the beautiful cuts he’d handpicked for you, the subtle nods and quiet exchanges that had started to feel more personal than professional. He always seemed reluctant, a slight hesitation in his movements when you handed him a carefully wrapped package of the food you had made. But he accepted it nonetheless, those hard lines in his face softening just a touch when your eyes met his.

As time went on, it became a silent exchange between the two of you. You’d bring him food, and in return, he’d set aside the best cuts for you—the most tender meats, the freshest products, pieces that were meant to be savoured. It felt intimate, in a way that neither of you acknowledged, but both understood.

And with each passing week, the quiet between you grew less suffocating, replaced by something that hummed just beneath the surface of your interactions—an attraction, a connection, but still undefined, still lingering in the unsaid.

Then came that particular afternoon.

You had made cream mushroom soup this time, the rich scent of it filling your small kitchen as you prepared the dish with more care than usual. The holiday season was approaching, and the streets outside had already begun to sparkle with festive lights, the world around you glowing with a soft anticipation. There was something about the air, something about the warmth that wrapped itself around you as you stepped into the shop that made you bold.

He looked up when you walked in, his hazel eyes meeting yours, and for a brief moment, the world outside seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of you standing in the dim light of the shop. 

After exchanging your usual greetings, you handed him the small container of soup, your gloved fingers brushing his for just a second longer than necessary. And then, before you could stop yourself, the words slipped from your lips.

“Are you… visiting anyone during the holidays?” Your voice was soft, almost a whisper, the question hanging in the air between you. “I mean, celebrating with your family or…?” You winced at your own awkwardness, feeling the weight of the silence that followed. But you couldn’t stop now. “If not, I was thinking, maybe… you could join me for dinner this week? At my place.”

For a moment, Simon didn’t speak.

His eyes searched yours, unreadable, his expression as steady as ever, though you thought you caught the faintest flicker of surprise in those hazel depths. The rain outside tapped softly against the windows, filling the quiet space with its gentle rhythm, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest, waiting for his answer.

He exhaled slowly, his gaze still fixed on you, and then, to your surprise, he nodded. Just a small tilt of his head, but enough to send warmth flooding through you, enough to light something in your chest that you hadn’t expected to feel.

“Okay,” he said, his voice low, a quiet promise whispered between raindrops.

You smiled, feeling lighter than you had in weeks, the weight of your nerves lifting as you took your package from the counter.

The cold winter air wrapped around you as you stepped out into the street, but it felt different now—like a secret you were carrying with you, a warmth that Simon had unknowingly placed in your hands.

[highinmiamiii]

MONEY POWER GLORY

club owner!joe kessler x exotic dancer

A/N: this piece goes hand in hand with @billybutcherxyou / @foxiewrites and I’s DBF!Butcher series. best to be read alongside their most recent post, so make sure to check that out first. (cw: themes of manipulation, power dynamics, implied threats, and mentions of the adult entertainment industry.) NO USE OF Y/N

summary: Kessler, the sleazy owner of Club Kess, where petal works, dangles promises of fame and fortune, but his intentions are far from pure. Highlighting petal’s willingness to play his game, even as she’s fully aware of the dangers that come with it.

—————

She walks into the dimly lit office at the back of the club, the heavy bass from the music outside thrumming through the walls. Kessler, the club’s owner, sits behind an oversized mahogany desk, a fine Cuban cigar smoldering between his fingers. The air is thick with the scent of smoke and the faint tang of his expensive cologne. His eyes, sharp and calculating, follow her as she approaches, amusement flickering in them.

“Ah, there she is,” Kessler purrs, his voice smooth like honey with an underlying edge that makes your skin crawl if you listen too closely. He leans back in his chair, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he gestures for her to sit. “My favorite girl.”

She offers him a small, confident smile, though there’s a tightness in her chest she can’t quite shake. She’s been working for him for some time now, just barely making enough to have a little extra cash after repaying her father’s debts and getting out of every negative situation. Billy still couldn’t seem to get off her ass. She’s good at what she does, and she’s determined to be more than just another one of Kessler’s showgirls.

Once she had even the slightest taste of financial freedom to splurge on a cute top or take herself out to lunch somewhere nice, she’d never go back to her old life. Her life had been full of losses, wins, failures, and falls.

Kessler’s gaze never wavers as she takes her seat across from him, the leather chair creaking slightly under her weight. He exhales a long plume of smoke, watching her with that same calculated amusement, like a cat playing with a mouse.

“I’ve been watching you,” Kessler continues, his eyes narrowing as he takes a drag from his cigar, the smoke curling around his face like a serpent. “You’ve got something… special. A spark, if you will.”

“You’ve been doing good work, sweetheart,” he says, the endearment slipping from his lips like it’s second nature. His voice carries a certain weight, commanding attention, respect, and maybe even a little fear. “Better than most of the girls who walk through that door.”

Her smile widens just a fraction; the words hit their mark. She’s been craving validation like this—something to tell her that all the hours, the effort, the sacrifices are worth it. The faint praise settles into her bones, stoking the fire she keeps burning inside.

“Well, I aim to please,” she replies smoothly, her voice laced with just the right amount of sultriness. She knows how to play her part, knows what Kessler wants to hear. And she’s more than willing to give it to him if it means getting what she wants in return.

Kessler’s smirk deepens, his eyes glittering with something dark, something dangerous. “That’s why you’re my favorite, baby,” he purrs, leaning forward slightly, his gaze locking onto hers with predatory intensity. “You’ve got the looks, the talent, the drive. Everything a girl needs to make it big. And I’m gonna make sure you do.”

She feels a thrill of anticipation run through her at his words. She’s been chasing this dream for as long as she can remember—the idea of being more than just another face in the crowd, of standing out, of having everything she’s ever wanted. Money, power, glory. The trifecta that’s kept her going through every hardship, every setback.

“A-anything, Mr. Kessler,” she says, her voice almost a whisper, leaning in slightly as if she’s afraid to miss a single word. “Tell me what I need to do.”

Kessler’s smile is almost fatherly as he leans back in his chair, taking another drag from his cigar. He likes this part—the moment they’re fully under his spell, ready to do whatever it takes to make his promises come true. He’s seen it a hundred times before, but there’s something about her that makes it all the more satisfying.

“It’s simple, really,” he says, his tone almost conspiratorial. “You just keep doing what you’re doing, baby—keep turning heads, keep bringing in the crowds. Make them want more of you, make them crave you. And when the time is right, when you’re ready, we’ll take that next step.”

He pauses, letting the words sink in, watching as her eyes widen just a fraction, her breath catching slightly in her throat. He’s got her, and he knows it.

“What next step?” she asks, her voice hushed, almost afraid of the answer.

Kessler’s smirk returns, sharper this time. “Movies, baby. Real stardom. You’ve got a face for the camera, and I’m gonna make sure you get there. But you have to trust me, follow my lead. Do that, and you’ll have everything that pretty little heart o’ yours desires.”

She bites her lower lip, a move she knows he finds irresistible, playing into the moment. It’s all she’s ever wanted to hear—the promise of something more, something bigger than the life she’s been living. Dealing with her asshole of a father and his gambling debts, instead of living the life of a normal girl her age, she was working the pole at Club Kess. She’s come too far to turn back now, and Kessler knows that. He’s got her wrapped around his finger, and she can’t even bring herself to care.

“I trust you,” she says, the words coming out easily, as if they were always meant to be spoken. “I’m a big girl, I can take it,” she adds cheekily.

Kessler chuckles, a low, dark sound that sends a shiver down her spine. He reaches out, brushing a thumb across her cheek, the touch as possessive as it is comforting.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, his voice rich with satisfaction. “Stick with me, baby, and I’ll make sure the whole world knows your name.”

She feels her heart pound with a mix of fear and excitement. She’s heard the rumors, knows what happens to the girls who fall out of Kessler’s favor, but she’s convinced it won’t happen to her. She’s different. She has to be.

He leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk, his gaze locking onto hers with predatory intensity. “You want more than just the dance floor. You want to be a star.”

The word hangs in the air between them, heavy with unspoken promises. She can feel the pull, the allure of everything she’s ever wanted, dangling just out of reach. But there’s a part of her, the smart part, that knows there’s always a catch when someone like Kessler is involved.

“I do,” she admits, keeping her voice soft, almost vulnerable, knowing that’s what he’s looking for. “But I know it’s not easy. I’m willing to work for it.”

Kessler’s grin widens, and for a moment, she can see the wolf behind the businessman. “That’s what I like to hear, sweetheart,” he says, his tone oozing with false sincerity. “You’re different. I see big things in your future. Movies, magazine covers, hell, maybe even your own show one day.”

The flattery is relentless, and she finds herself nodding along, even as a small voice in the back of her mind tells her not to fall for it. But it’s hard not to, especially when he leans in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

The words are intoxicating, and for a moment, she lets herself believe them. But then Kessler’s gaze hardens, just for a split second, and she catches a glimpse of the man behind the mask—the one who’s willing to destroy anyone who doesn’t play by his rules.

“But remember,” he adds, his tone shifting to something colder, more menacing, “this business is tough. It chews up the weak and spits them out. You keep up your end of the bargain, and I’ll keep up mine. But cross me… and, well, I’m sure you know what happens to girls who get on my bad side.”

She forces herself to smile, to play along with his game. “I won’t disappoint you, I promise,” she says, her voice smooth as silk, hiding the unease coiling in her gut.

“Good girl,” he replies, the smirk returning as he leans back in his chair, satisfied. “Now, go out there and show them what you’re made of. Got big plans for you.”

She nods, offering him one last smile before she turns.

As she’s about to leave, Kessler’s voice cuts through the lingering haze of cigar smoke. “Actually—hold on a sec, baby,” he drawls, his tone smooth but with an edge that halts her in her tracks. She looks over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow in silent question.

Kessler reaches into his desk drawer and pulls out an old Polaroid camera, the kind that spits out instant photos with a soft mechanical whirr. He holds it up, a sly grin spreading across his face. “One more thing before you go. Gotta get a picture to go with the others, yeah? Keeps things personal, keeps us close.”

She hesitates for a moment, feeling a strange twist in her gut. This wasn’t part of the usual routine, but then again, Kessler always liked to blur the lines. “A Polaroid?” she asks, forcing a light tone, though she can’t keep the edge of suspicion out of her voice.

Kessler chuckles, but it’s a low, menacing sound that sends a shiver down her spine. “Just for the collection,” he says, as if that explains everything. “A little keepsake for me. Nothing to worry your pretty little head about.”

The unease deepens, but she can see the challenge in his eyes, the unspoken command. He wants her to trust him, to play along. And if she refuses, if she makes a scene, she knows what that might mean for her future here.

So, she swallows her discomfort and flashes him her best smile, the one she reserves for customers she’s trying to impress. “Of course, Mr. Kessler,” she says sweetly, stepping closer to the desk.

Kessler’s grin widens as he raises the camera, the lens glinting in the dim light. “Say cheese, darling.”

She hears the click, followed by the whir of the camera spitting out the photo. Kessler catches it before it hits the desk, holding it by the edges as the image slowly develops.

She forces herself to stay calm, to keep that practiced smile in place, even as Kessler’s gaze flicks between her and the photo with a predatory glint. “Beautiful,” he murmurs, more to himself than to her, before he slips the photo into his desk drawer, locking it away.

“Alright, baby,” he says, his tone returning to that of the smooth-talking club owner. “You go on now. Remember, I’m watching.”

She nods, mutters a soft “thank you,” and finally makes her exit, feeling the weight of his gaze on her until she’s out the door. As she steps back into the dimly lit hallway, the thumping bass from the club outside washing over her like a wave, she can’t shake the feeling that she’s just crossed some invisible line, one she might not be able to step back from.

But she pushes the thought aside. This is what she wanted—what she needed. If playing Kessler’s game was the price she had to pay for her shot at fame and fortune, then so be it. She’d play, and she’d win.

Because she knew one thing for sure: in this world, you either play the game or get played. And she wasn’t about to let herself become just another one of Kessler’s pawns.

[huttuharakka]

Headcanon time!

Bular's birthstone resembled a tiny heartstone, because Gunmar is a heartstone troll.

+ Conceiving Bular

Trolls have this very unique way to reproduce, they carve a piece of their living stone to form a birthstone, and it takes 30 years for the whelp to hatch out of it.

And I am an advocate believer that Gunmar had made Bular all by his own, and never had a partner, since there also haven't been a single trace or mention of a Gumm-Gumm queen in the show nor in the literature.

And troll reproduction makes Gunmar being Bular's sole-progenitor possible, because there's no sexual intercourse nor pregnancy in troll reproduction, just piece of stone from the parent(s). And this could explain Bular's more than striking resemblance to Gunmar, being almost completly identical to his father.

(This also would mean that same-sex troll couples could make biological children as well.)