#Hughie Campbell angst

[bowieandqueen11]

Dating Hughie Campbell Would Include...

Request: Hello Cee! Would it be okay to please request some headcanons about dating Hughie Campbell, please? Thank you so much for your beautiful writing <3

Hello my darling, of course you can! Hughie’s nervous energy is literally me lmaooo he’s so chaotic

Warning slightly NSFW, and some swearing!

(I do not own the Boys or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @therealhughiecampbell.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Hughie... my wet towel poor meow bundle of chaotic and nervous energy, dear lord you just need someone to give you a big warm hug my man but also just shake you around a bit I love you so much.

Dates out on park benches around the city (I mean, mainly to get away from Butcher and his complaining at least for a couple of hours.) He’s so cute, he always brings a little lunchbox in his satchel bag, with immaculately cut down the middle peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in them. He always sits thigh to thigh with you, and you can feel the embarrassed heat radiate off him every time your hand brushes against his and he twitches. Looking out over the rolling hills and mellow city top in the hazy afternoon, the two of you share the food - but he always ends up hand feeding you his half, giggling as you turn and try to bite his fingers as they rest against your lips.

The two of you ignore the concerned looks you get from passer-by's when, on the way back, you jump on him and the two of you roll onto the grass. He cradles your head, making sure you’re not hurt as he lands on his back, and you on top of his chest. He just giggles, spreading his fingers over your cheeks and cradling your face as you lie on top of him, pressing a thousand kisses over your cheeks and nose. He only stops for a minute when he stops Butcher watching the two of you from behind a nearby bush, and he yells at him to get lost. 

The two of you go out bowling a lot, mainly because he uses it as an excuse to lay some heavy PDA on you without anyone in the safe house coming between you. Every time you’re up at the alley, focusing only on your bowling ball and the pins, he always gives himself away by the sound of his squeaky shoes running up behind you. He tries to win by distracting you, wrapping his arms around your waist and heaving you up into the air, spinning you around tightly against his chest. At the same time, he can’t help but want you to do well, so he agrees a sort of challenge with you. Every time you manage to get a strike, or a spare, he’ll happily jump up from the row of sticky seats and rush up to arch his back towards you and eclipse you with a sentimental kiss to your lips.

He’s really, really into absolutely awful corny jokes. ‘Are you related to Frenchie? Because, Y/n... Eiffel for you so quickly. I know, I know I regret it already... nah, actually, that was great I have no regrets.’

Although he’ll get flustered as heck, and honestly really annoyed if Frenchie keeps making kissy noises at him for weeks afterwards, he loves having soft little make out sessions at the safe house. Sometimes he just needs to get out of the mess of his head, and to ground himself in something he knows is real, is true, is the best thing he knows he’ll ever has. As soon as the two of you get back in from a hairy Supe fight, he’s so desperate to just feel you that your feet are moving back to the hallway wall before you can even blink. Although his hands are currently resting against the back of your neck, curled against your skin like a vice to keep you against his plush and needy lips, he flips the two of you so he hits the wall instead of you. His hands eventually dance their way down your shoulders, gracing down your sides until they fist into the meat of your hips, and a guttural, breathless groan looses itself into your mouth. 

Eventually the two of you end up tripping down the few stairs and collapsing down against the cracked cushion of the sofa. He’s pulling against the back of your thighs, gently, until you’re sitting with your knees pressed tightly into his abdomen, and your feet resting on his knees. Every time you try to pull away to breathe, he shuts his eyes in bliss and whimpers, arching his back up and chasing your lips until he can feel your teeth stretch his bottom lip. It’s so cute, the little squeaky moans every time he can feel your stomach press against the buttons of his shirt, or your legs slip down between his waist - a strangled cry somewhere between ruination and euphoria.

When the tension finally becomes too much, and he eventually has to try and unlatch his lips from where they’re currently slid between your top lip before he bursts, he’ll pull back and just keep whispering ‘I love you. I love you so much’, over and over again. He brushes the hair back from your eyes with his left thumb, his cold fingers splaying over your cheek as he pulls your head down to rest against his forehead.

‘aHEM. Daddy’s home, you dirty dogs.’

‘Jeez, Butcher, a little warning next time.’

‘There’s only one room in this place you daft cunt, the ‘eck else am I supposed to go?’

He drives Billy absolutely around the bend, because he’ll be trying to force Hughie to go scope out some Supe riddled festival, and the man will be too busy twirling his hair and kicking his feet on the sofa because he’s talking to you on the phone lmao. You’ve only been out for about forty five minutes, and eventually Butcher just rolls his eyes and drags Hughie up and out the door by the collar. Even while he’s driving in the van, Hughie seems suspiciously quiet while he’s trying to talk to him, so he’s less than surprised when he peers through the rear-view mirror and sees him hunched up, texting fervently.

One time you fell asleep on Hughie’s shoulder while Butcher was driving the five of you back home in Frenchie’s new van. You woke up a couple of hours later, still in the back of the vehicle. Hughie hasn’t slept a wink; he’s just sitting there, trying not to breath too heavily and stay stock still, but he has managed to shuffle his jacket down his shoulders and clumsily laid it over your torso. He’s just humming a bit of ‘Uptown Girl’ to himself, glancing down at you from time to time to check he hasn’t woken you up, with all the love in the world beaming out of his swirling eyes, and his heart-breaking grin (as well as a sweaty ass forehead from how blooming hot it is). When he begins to see you blink awake, the first thing he wants you to do is laugh, so he bends down and flutters his nose against the pulse point on your neck like a lovestruck puppy.

During intense group meetings with the other Boys, the poor man gets so nervous about some of Butcher’s plans that the only way you can get him to calm down and stop a panic attack coming on is to give him your hands. Although he’s staring straight ahead at the wall; his eyebrows are furrowed, breath uneven and ragged, and eyes wide and terrified, he grips onto your fingers like a lifeline. After a sharp gasp, he manages to entangle your fingers within his slender ones and press them just above his heart, throwing you a dorky smile to let you both know that he’s alright, and how thankful he is for you.

Speaking of, as soon as you come back home from being out literally anywhere dangerous, he immediately seeks you out. He can’t calm down and settle himself until he knows you’re safe, so expect him to to run and crash into you in a bug hug until you’re completely squeezed out.

He’s SUPER protective though, when needs come to must. If any of the Seven comes in a hundred mile radius of you, he’s grabbed your arm and thrown you behind his back so he can take any and all of the incoming damage. My man would give his life up over and over for you if it came to that, because without you, he would die. You have saved his life every day, and without you, he knows Hughie Campbell would no longer exist. He would be lost to the darkness and the hatred, and so he’s prepared to give himself up to and for you whenever the chance arises.

[lila-lou]

✨ His only exception - Pt. 15/? ✨

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

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: Language, Violence

Word Count: 6921

A/N: This is part 15 of “His only exeption”.

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

As the car ride dragged on, you couldn't shake the feeling of dread that hung heavy in the air. Your shoulder throbbed painfully, the blood from your wound seeping through your fingers as you tried to staunch the bleeding.

Frustration and fear boiled inside you, fueling your determination to escape at the first opportunity. So when the SUV finally came to a stop, you wasted no time in making your move.

With a surge of adrenaline, you threw yourself at the two men, unleashing a flurry of punches and kicks in a desperate bid for freedom. But despite your best efforts, they were ready for you, deflecting your blows with ease and retaliating with brutal force.

A sharp blow to the side of your head sent stars exploding behind your eyes, and you stumbled backward, dazed and disoriented. Through the haze of pain, you fought to stay conscious, knowing that your only chance lay in escaping this nightmare.

But it was no use. Another blow landed squarely on your jaw, sending you sprawling to the ground in a haze of agony. As darkness closed in around you, you fought to keep your eyes open, clinging to consciousness with all your strength.

But in the end, it was futile. With one final gasp, you succumbed to the darkness, the world fading away into nothingness as the sounds of the men's cruel laughter echoed in your ears.

As unconsciousness enveloped you, you were vaguely aware of being dragged through the underground car park, the rough ground scraping against your skin as the two men hauled you along. You were lifted, your limbs limp and unresponsive, as they heaved you into an elevator.

As the doors closed with a dull thud, the two men exchanged murmured words, their voices low and filled with an unsettling sense of anticipation.

"Feisty little thing, isn't she?", one of them remarked, a twisted smirk playing on his lips.

The other chuckled in agreement. "I do love a challenge", he replied, his tone dripping with malice.

As the elevator came to a stop on one of the top floors, the doors slid open to reveal a woman standing before them, her posture radiating authority. Ashley.

"What took you so long?", Ashley snapped, her tone sharp and impatient. "I specifically instructed you to bring her here unharmed".

The two men shifted uncomfortably under Ashley's piercing gaze. "We… we tried, but she put up a fight", one of them stammered.

Ashley's expression darkened as she surveyed the scene before her, her gaze narrowing on your unconscious form. "Well, it seems you were a little too rough with her", she remarked icily, her displeasure evident.

The men exchanged uneasy glances, realizing the gravity of their mistake. "We'll make sure she's taken care of", one of them promised hastily, his voice tinged with desperation.

Ashley's lips curled into a cold smile, a glint of satisfaction in her eyes. "See that you do", she replied, her tone dripping with menace. "We can't afford any more complications".

With a dismissive wave of her hand, Ashley turned on her heel and strode away, leaving the two men to deal with the consequences of their actions.

As consciousness slowly returned, you found yourself in a state of disorientation, your senses gradually coming back to you. Blinking groggily, you took in your surroundings: a large, imposing office with polished floors and sleek furnishings.

But as you attempted to move, you realized that something was wrong. Panic surged through you as you discovered that your arms and legs were bound tightly to a chair, leaving you completely immobilized.

With a surge of adrenaline, you began to tug and strain against the restraints, desperation driving you to break free. But no matter how hard you struggled, the bonds held fast, refusing to yield to your efforts.

Frustration bubbled up inside you, boiling over into a stream of curses and expletives as you fought against your confinement. Each tug and pull only served to tighten the restraints further, leaving you trapped and helpless.

"Damn it!", you shouted, your voice echoing off the walls of the empty office. "Let me go, you bastards!".

But your cries fell on deaf ears as you continued to struggle against your bonds, the realization sinking in that escape was impossible.

As your tirade of curses echoed through the room, Ashley approached you with a calm, collected demeanor, her expression betraying no hint of concern or empathy.

"Stop moving, you're only hurting yourself", she stated flatly.

You glared at her, your eyes blazing with defiance as you continued to struggle against your restraints. "Screw you, Ashley", you spat. "Let me go, or I swear I'll—".

But Ashley merely chuckled, cutting you off with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Oh, please. Save your threats for someone who cares", she replied, her voice laced with amusement.

Your frustration reached a boiling point as you unleashed a torrent of insults and curses, each word aimed squarely at Ashley. But she remained unfazed, her chuckles only serving to fuel your anger further.

With a resigned sigh, Ashley shook her head, her lips quirking into a condescending smile. "Feisty, aren't you?", she remarked casually, as if your aggression was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

You seethed with impotent rage, unable to do anything but glare at her from your bound position.

"What the fuck do you want from me?", you demanded.

"It's not what I want, darling. It's what Homelander wants", she replied smoothly.

Your heart sank at her words, a cold dread settling in the pit of your stomach. "Homelander?", you repeated incredulously, unable to believe what you were hearing. "What does he have to do with this?".

Ashley's lips curved into a sardonic smile. "Oh, nothing much. Just a simple request to… persuade you to see things his way", she explained cryptically.

Your mind raced as you tried to make sense of her words, the pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place. If Homelander was involved, then this situation was far more dangerous than you had initially realized.

But before you could formulate a response, Ashley began to walk away, her voice trailing behind her with a chilling finality. "Welcome to Vought, darling. I hope you enjoy your stay".

As Ashley disappeared from view, leaving you alone in the empty room, your frustration and anger reached a fever pitch. Cursing loudly, you continued to struggle against your restraints, your skin chafing and burning as the ropes dug into your flesh.

With each futile attempt to break free, the ropes bit deeper into your skin, leaving angry red welts in their wake. But despite the pain, you refused to give up, fueled by a stubborn determination to escape this nightmare at any cost.

Desperation clawed at your insides as you tugged and pulled with all your strength, the metallic taste of blood filling your mouth as the ropes cut deeper into your wrists and ankles. But no matter how hard you tried, the bonds held fast, refusing to yield to your efforts.

Exhausted and defeated, you finally slumped back in the chair, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you stared at the ceiling, feeling utterly powerless and alone.

Frenchie's hands trembled as he dialed your number repeatedly, each attempt met with the same soul-crushing silence. With each failed call, his panic grew, a gnawing sense of dread settling in the pit of his stomach.

As the minutes stretched into agonizing hours, Frenchie's mind raced with a thousand fears and possibilities. What had happened to you? Where were you? Was it too late to help?

Frantically, he searched the apartment for any sign of your whereabouts, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear and frustration. But all he found was silence, broken only by the relentless buzzing of his phone as he continued to call your number.

With each unanswered call, Frenchie felt a sense of helplessness wash over him, a crushing weight that threatened to suffocate him. He had to do something, anything, to find you and bring you back safe.

But as the hours ticked by and his efforts yielded no results, Frenchie realized that he was facing an uphill battle with no end in sight.

With a sinking feeling in his chest, Frenchie dialed Butcher's number. After several rings, Butcher finally picked up, his voice gruff and impatient.

"What is it, Frenchie? I'm in the middle of something", Butcher snapped, his tone no-nonsense as usual.

Frenchie swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice steady despite the rising panic within him. "Butcher, it's urgent. I can't reach (Y/N)", he blurted out, the words tumbling from his lips in a rush.

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before Butcher responded, his tone grudgingly concerned. "What do you mean you can't reach her? What's going on?", he demanded.

Frenchie quickly explained the situation, recounting how he had been unable to contact you for hours and the growing sense of dread that had consumed him.

Butcher's response was terse, his words clipped and to the point. "Keep trying. I'll see what I can find out from this end", he ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Frenchie nodded, even though Butcher couldn't see him. "Thanks, Butcher", he replied gratefully, his relief evident in his voice.

But as he hung up the phone, Frenchie couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the air. He knew that time was of the essence, and that he would stop at nothing to find you and bring you back home.

With a sense of urgency, Frenchie continued to try reaching you without success, his heart sinking with each unanswered call. Determined not to give up, he turned his attention to scouring through the camera recordings of the city, hoping to catch a glimpse of you.

After what felt like an eternity of searching, just as he was about to give up hope, his eyes caught sight of a familiar figure in one of the recordings. It was you, being escorted by the two men and the ominous black SUV.

A surge of relief flooded through Frenchie as he quickly scrutinized the footage, committing every detail to memory. As he zoomed in on the license plate of the vehicle, his blood ran cold when he saw the unmistakable emblem of Vought.

Heart pounding, Frenchie wasted no time in dialing Butcher’s number once more, his voice urgent as he relayed the newfound information. “Butcher, I’ve found her. She’s with Vought”, he blurted out, his words rushed with adrenaline.

“Vought? What the bloody hell are they up to now?”, he growled, his frustration evident.

“I don´t know, but we need to act fast”, he insisted.

Butcher’s response was immediate and decisive. “I’ll send the team back. Except Soldier Boy”, he instructed.

Relief washed over Frenchie at the news, grateful for the reinforcements that were on their way. “Alright, Butcher. I’ll be ready for them”, he replied, a sense of resolve in his tone.

But Butcher wasn’t finished yet. “But Frenchie, listen to me”, he continued, his voice taking on a stern edge. “Do not, I repeat, do not go in there alone. Wait for the team to arrive. Understood?”.

Frenchie hesitated for a moment, the urgency of the situation weighing heavily on his mind. But he knew that Butcher was right. “Understood”, he replied reluctantly, knowing that it would take a few hours for the rest of the team to reach him.

Butcher's stern warning echoed in Frenchie's mind as he hung up the phone, a mixture of frustration and determination swirling within him. He knew that going in alone would be reckless, but the thought of you in danger ignited a fierce determination within him.

Taking a deep breath, Frenchie forced himself to focus on the task at hand. He needed to prepare for the arrival of the team and ensure that everything was in place for the rescue mission.

As he gathered supplies and double-checked his plans, the minutes stretched into agonizing hours, each second ticking by like an eternity.

As you struggled against your restraints, the door to the office swung open with a resounding creak, and in stepped Homelander, his presence commanding the room. His hands were clasped behind his back, and a smug smirk played on his lips as he sauntered toward you.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?", Homelander mused, his voice dripping with arrogance as he surveyed you with a mix of amusement and disdain. "Looks like Soldier Boy's little girlfriend got herself into some trouble. Again".

You bristled at his condescending tone, a surge of anger coursing through you despite your helpless situation. "I'm nobody's girlfriend", you retorted defiantly.

Homelander merely chuckled, unfazed by your bravado. "Oh, please. We both know that's not true", he replied dismissively. "But enough small talk. I have some questions for you, and I expect you to answer truthfully".

As he spoke, Homelander circled around you, his gaze piercing as he studied you with unnerving intensity. With each step he took, the sense of dread that had been gnawing at you only intensified, as you realized that you were completely at his mercy.

"Why the hell are you still alive?", Homelander demanded, his voice low and menacing, as he loomed over you.

You met his gaze with defiance, refusing to show any sign of weakness. "Maybe I'm just too stubborn to die", you shot back.

Homelander's eyes narrowed dangerously at your insolence, his patience wearing thin. "Don't play games with me", he growled, his voice tinged with frustration. "How is it that the Compound V didn't kill you, but it also didn't turn you into a supe?".

You remained silent, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer. Enraged by your defiance, Homelander's patience snapped. With a swift motion, he raised his hand and delivered a powerful slap across your face.

The force of the blow sent you and the chair crashing to the ground, pain exploding through your skull as your mouth and nose began to bleed. Through the haze of agony, you struggled to maintain consciousness, your vision swimming as you fought to keep your wits about you.

But despite the pain and the fear that threatened to overwhelm you, you refused to back down. Clinging to your defiance like a lifeline, you stared up at Homelander with unyielding resolve, silently daring him to break you.

As you lay sprawled on the ground, blood trickling from your battered face, Homelander towered over you, his expression cold and unyielding.

"Answer me", he demanded, his voice a menacing growl. "How did you survive?".

Gritting your teeth against the pain, you met his gaze. "Wouldn't you like to know?", you spat back, your voice thick with contempt.

Homelander's eyes flashed with fury at your insolence. He grabbed you by the collar of your shirt, hauling you up until you were eye level with him.

"You think you're clever, don't you?", he sneered, his grip tightening on your shirt. "But I'll make you talk, one way or another".

"Good luck with that", you retorted.

With a frustrated growl, Homelander shoved you back to the ground, a cruel smirk twisting his lips. "We'll see about that", he replied ominously, turning to leave the room.

As he disappeared from view, leaving you battered and bruised on the floor, you knew that your ordeal was far from over.

As the hours dragged on, your body bore the cruel marks of Homelander’s relentless interrogation. Bruises blossomed across your skin like dark petals, and blood stained your torn clothing. Every breath came with a sharp pang of pain, and each movement sent waves of agony coursing through your battered frame.

Homelander’s attempts to extract information from you grew increasingly brutal with each passing hour. He wielded violence like a blunt instrument, striking you with merciless force and leaving you gasping for breath, teetering on the brink of unconsciousness.

But despite the physical torment, you remained steadfast in your defiance. With every blow, you gritted your teeth and endured, clinging to the last shreds of your resilience as if it were a lifeline.

Homelander’s frustration simmered beneath the surface, his attempts to break you only fueling his anger. Yet, despite his best efforts, you remained silent, your determination unyielding even in the face of such brutal violence.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of torment, Homelander paused, his cold gaze lingering on your broken form. You lay on the ground, barely conscious, your breaths shallow and ragged.

“Look at you”, he spat, his tone laced with disgust. “Pathetic. Weak. You’re not even worth the dirt beneath my boots”.

Your body screamed in agony, but you were too exhausted to muster a response. Every breath felt like a struggle, and the pain radiating from every inch of your body threatened to overwhelm you.

With a dismissive scoff, Homelander turned away from you, his attention shifting to the doctors who had entered the room behind him. “Get to work”, he ordered them, his voice cold and authoritative. “Run every test possible. I want to know everything about her, no matter how painful”.

The doctors nodded obediently, their expressions unreadable as they approached you.

As the doctors lifted you from the ground and began to carry you out of the room, Ashley appeared at Homelander's side, her brow furrowed in concern. "What happened to her?", she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.

Homelander's expression remained impassive as he glanced back at you, lying half-conscious in the doctors' arms. "She didn't want to cooperate", he replied simply, his tone tinged with annoyance.

Ashley's eyes narrowed slightly as she studied you, her curiosity piqued by the sight of your battered form. "She looks half dead", she observed.

Homelander shrugged indifferently, his gaze never leaving your prone figure. "She's tougher than she looks", he remarked dismissively. "But we'll see how long that lasts".

With that, the group disappeared through the doorway, leaving the room empty once more, save for the lingering echo of your labored breaths. As you were carried into the depths of the facility, a sense of dread settled over you, knowing that whatever lay ahead would test your resilience like never before.

Ashley's expression darkened with concern as she listened to Homelander's explanation, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. "Is that such a good idea?", she ventured cautiously, her voice tinged with doubt. "If she's Soldier Boy's girlfriend, won't he come for her sooner or later?".

Homelander's eyes flashed with irritation at the suggestion, his grip tightening on Ashley's throat as he pushed her up against the wall with brutal force. "I don't need your input, Ashley", he hissed, his voice low "I know what I'm doing".

Gasping for breath, Ashley struggled against Homelander's iron grip, her fear palpable in the air between them. "I-I'm just saying…", she stammered, her words choked off by Homelander's unyielding hold.

With a cruel smirk, Homelander leaned in close, his eyes boring into Ashley's with icy intensity. "Do you really think Soldier Boy stands a chance against me?", he taunted. "He's nothing compared to what I am".

As Homelander released his grip on Ashley, she slumped to the ground, gasping for air and rubbing her bruised throat. Trembling, she watched as Homelander strode past her, his expression cold and calculated.

Without sparing her a second glance, Homelander followed the two doctors who were carrying you, his footsteps echoing ominously in the empty hallway. As they entered the lab, the doctors carefully placed you down on a large examination table, your body limp.

Homelander approached the table with an air of authority, his eyes narrowing. "Make sure every test is conducted", he ordered the doctors. "I want to know everything about her, no matter the cost".

The doctors nodded obediently, their expressions grave as they prepared to carry out Homelander's instructions. With a sense of dread weighing heavy in the air, they began their examination, knowing that whatever they discovered could have far-reaching consequences for both you and the world beyond. And as they worked, Homelander watched on with a cold detachment, his mind already plotting his next move in this dangerous game of power and control.

"Tie her up", he ordered.

The doctors exchanged a hesitant glance, their eyes flickering with concern as they looked at your battered and broken body. "But sir, she's already in no condition to resist", one of them ventured tentatively, a note of apprehension in his voice.

Homelander's expression darkened with impatience at their hesitation. "Do it", he snapped. "She may be weak and pathetic, but she'll fight tooth and nail if given the chance. I won't take any risks".

With a resigned nod, the doctors reluctantly set to work, securing your limbs with restraints despite their misgivings. As they tightened the bonds around your wrists and ankles, you stirred slightly, a low groan escaping your lips.

Homelander watched with a cold detachment as they finished their task, his eyes lingering on your bound form with a sense of satisfaction. "Good", he declared. "Now let's see what secrets she's hiding".

With a sense of grim determination, the doctors resumed their examination, knowing that they had little choice but to carry out Homelander's orders.

With clinical precision, they extracted every possible fluid from your broken body, subjecting you to a barrage of painful tests and procedures.

Needles pierced your skin, drawing blood and other bodily fluids as the doctors worked tirelessly to uncover the secrets hidden within you. Each extraction sent waves of agony coursing through your weakened form, but you were bound and helpless, unable to do anything but endure the torment.

Homelander watched with a mixture of fascination and anticipation, his eyes alight with a twisted sense of curiosity as he awaited the results of the tests. With each vial filled with your precious fluids, he grew more impatient, eager to uncover whatever secrets lay buried beneath your battered exterior.

As the hours dragged on, the doctors spared no mercy in their relentless pursuit of knowledge, subjecting you to increasingly painful and invasive procedures. They prodded and probed every inch of your broken body, extracting tissue samples and running tests with a cold efficiency that bordered on cruelty.

Though you could feel yourself slipping further into the abyss with each passing moment, you refused to surrender, clinging to the hope that somehow, someway, you would survive this ordeal.

Meanwhile Frenchie stood anxiously outside the airport, his eyes scanning the arrivals hall for any sign of his teammates. Finally, he spotted them making their way towards him, relief flooding through him as Hughie, MM, Kimiko, and Annie approached.

"About time you guys showed up", Frenchie sighted, opening the door of the car for them.

Kimiko gave Frenchie a quick kiss on the cheek before sliding into the passenger seat, her hands moving gracefully as she signed her concern. "Did you find her?", she signed quietly, her eyes filled with worry.

Frenchie nodded grimly, his hands mirroring her serious expression. "Yeah, but it's not good", he signed back, his movements precise and deliberate. "We need to move fast".

As the car sped towards their destination, Annie leaned forward slightly from the backseat, her expression filled with curiosity. "What could Vought possibly want with her?", she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

Frenchie glanced at her through the rearview mirror, his hands still firmly on the wheel. "I'm not sure, but whatever it is, it can't be good",

Hughie nodded in agreement, his brow furrowed with worry. "Vought's always up to something", he remarked, his voice somber.

With each passing mile, the tension in the car grew thicker, the weight of their mission pressing heavily on their minds.

"Did you find Homelander in Europe?", Frenchie asked.

Hughie shook his head. "No, he wasn't anywhere to be found", he replied, his voice tinged with frustration.

Frenchie's shoulders slumped slightly, a sense of disappointment washing over him. "Damn", he muttered quietly.

MM leaned forward from the backseat, his gaze meeting Frenchie's in the rearview mirror. "Soldier Boy and Butcher are on a hot lead, though", he added.

Frenchie nodded, his mind racing with possibilities. "Does Soldier Boy know about (Y/N) being gone?", he asked carefully, his eyes flickering with concern.

Annie frowned, her brow furrowing with confusion. "I don't think so", she replied, her tone uncertain. "Why?".

Frenchie sighed, his expression grave. "We need to be careful", he warned. "If Soldier Boy finds out, it could escalate things".

Annie's brow furrowed with confusion as she glanced between Frenchie, Hughie, and MM. "But why would Soldier Boy escalate things if he found out she's gone?", she questioned, her voice laced with concern.

MM's brow furrowed as he considered Frenchie's explanation. "I get that he doesn't like being left out, but… I don´t think he would care that much on this one", he remarked.

Frenchie sighed inwardly, wishing he could divulge the full extent of the situation to his teammates. However, knowing the delicate nature of the relationship between you and Soldier Boy, he opted for a vague response. "Soldier Boy's got a temper", he replied vaguely, his tone cryptic.

Hughie leaned forward, his brow furrowed in contemplation. "You know, Soldier Boy probably cares more about taking down Homelander than anything else", he suggested, his voice tinged with conviction.

Frenchie couldn't help but snort at the remark, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes. However, he quickly composed himself, realizing the seriousness of the situation. "Maybe", he replied, trying to downplay his reaction. "But let's focus on finding (Y/N) first".

Annie glanced between them, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Either way, we need to be prepared for anything", she added.

A few minutes later, the team arrived at the Vought tower, its sleek exterior towering above them like a monolithic fortress. With cautious determination, they made their way towards a hidden entrance that Annie knew from her time with The Seven.

As they slipped inside, the air was thick with tension, each footstep echoing softly in the empty halls. They moved with silent precision, their senses alert for any sign of danger.

Annie led the way, her eyes scanning the shadows for any lurking threats. "This way", she whispered, her voice barely audible as she guided them through the labyrinthine corridors.

Frenchie and Hughie followed closely behind. "Keep an eye out for security cameras", Frenchie murmured.

As the team stepped into the elevator, Annie couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at her gut. The ease with which they had infiltrated the building seemed too good to be true.

Her brow furrowed in suspicion as she glanced around at her teammates. "This feels too easy", she remarked quietly, her voice tinged with concern.

Frenchie nodded in agreement, his expression mirroring her unease. "Yeah, something doesn't feel right", he replied.

As the elevator doors slid open, revealing Homelander standing before them with a menacing smirk, the team froze in shock. Their surprise quickly turned to alarm, as the realization dawned on them that their adversary was right in front of them, despite being expected to be halfway across the world.

Homelander's cold gaze swept over the team, his lips curling into a malicious grin. "Look who decided to pay us a visit", he taunted.

"You shouldn't be here", Annie retorted defiantly.

But Homelander just chuckled darkly, his gaze lingering on each member of the team with chilling intensity. "And yet, here I am", he replied, his tone filled with ominous promise. "I suggest you surrender now", he growled, his eyes flashing with lethal intent. "Or things are going to get messy".

The team exchanged tense glances, their hearts pounding with. With a surge of adrenaline, they sprang into action, their movements fluid and coordinated as they launched their attack on Homelander. Annie unleashed a barrage of energy blasts, her powers crackling with raw power as she aimed for her target with precision.

But Homelander was a force to be reckoned with, his reflexes lightning-fast as he effortlessly dodged Annie's attacks. With a flick of his wrist, he knocked her off balance and sending her crashing to the ground.

Frenchie and Hughie rushed forward, their fists flying as they attempted to overpower Homelander with sheer brute force. But the Supe was unfazed, his strength and agility unmatched as he effortlessly blocked their every blow, delivering punishing counterattacks with devastating accuracy.

Meanwhile, MM circled around behind Homelander, his mind racing as he searched for a weakness to exploit. But before he could make a move, Homelander whirled around, his eyes narrowing as he locked onto his target. With a menacing grin, he lunged forward.

The team fought valiantly, their determination unwavering even in the face of overwhelming odds. But no matter how hard they fought, they couldn't seem to gain the upper hand against Homelander's relentless onslaught. With each passing moment, the battle grew more chaotic and intense, until a doctor approached the scene, his expression tense with urgency. "Homelander, she's awake", he announced, his voice quivering with apprehension.

Homelander's eyes narrowed at the news, his attention momentarily diverted from the fight. With a growl of frustration, he turned to a group of nearby guards, his voice booming with authority. "Throw them in a cell", he commanded.

The guards wasted no time in carrying out Homelander's orders, their hands gripping the team firmly as they dragged them away from the chaotic scene.

Meanwhile, Homelander followed the doctor towards the source of the disturbance.

As they approached the room where you were being held, Homelander's pace quickened, a predatory gleam in his eyes.

As Butcher and Soldier Boy pressed forward through the desolate streets of Spain, the weight of their mission heavy on their shoulders. “Why the fuck did the other fuckers bugger off?”, he grumbled, his frustration palpable.

Butcher’s expression darkened at the question, his jaw clenching with tension. “They didn’t bugger off, mate”, he replied tersely, his voice low and gruff. “They went to rescue (Y/N)”.

Ben´s steps faltered at the mention of your name, his heart pounding in his chest. “What do you mean, rescue (Y/N)?”, he demanded.

Butcher’s gaze hardened as he met Ben´s eyes, his words heavy with significance. “Vought took her”, he explained bluntly, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

Ben´s world seemed to come crashing down around him at Butcher's words, his mind reeling with rage. "Vought took her?", he repeated, his voice trembling with anger and disbelief.

Butcher nodded solemnly, his eyes never leaving Soldier Boy's as he confirmed the grim truth. "Aye. And the rest of the team went to get her back", he reiterated, his tone steady despite the intensity of the situation.

A surge of fury surged through Soldier Boy's veins, his temper flaring as he struggled to contain the overwhelming flood of emotions. Without a word, he lunged forward, his hands curling into fists as he shoved Butcher to the ground.

Butcher hit the pavement with a grunt, the impact jolting through his body as he struggled to regain his bearings. He met Soldier Boy's furious gaze with surprise.

Soldier Boy loomed over Butcher, his chest heaving with exertion as he fought to control his rage. "You should've fucking well told me", he seethed, his voice raw with emotion.

Butcher pushed himself up onto his elbows, his expression hardening as he met Soldier Boy’s fiery gaze. “And what good would that have done, eh?”, he shot back, his voice tinged with frustration. “We’ve got bigger bloody priorities now”.

Soldier Boy’s fists clenched at his sides, his jaw tightening. “Fuck off”, he spat, his tone laced with contempt as he turned away.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”.

Ben didn’t look back as he answered. “I’m fucking going to get her back”.

Butcher quickened his pace to catch up with Soldier Boy. “Listen, mate”, he called out, his voice urgent as he closed the distance between them. “Starlight and the rest of the team, they’ll get her back. We just need to trust them”.

Soldier Boy came to an abrupt halt, his shoulders tense with frustration as he turned to face Butcher. “Trust them?”, he scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain. “They’ll probably just end up fucking it all up”.

Butcher felt a surge of concern as he watched Soldier Boy’s chest start to glow , a silent reminder of the immense power that simmered beneath. “Easy there, mate”, he urged, his voice calm despite the rising tension. “We don’t need any explosions tonight”, he raised both hands.

Soldier Boy gritted his teeth, his frustration bubbling dangerously close to the surface as he struggled to contain his temper.

Ben´s jaw clenched tightly, his eyes flashing with a fierce determination. "I'm flying back, right now".

Butcher hesitated for a moment, weighing the risks of allowing Soldier Boy to act impulsively against the urgency of the situation. Finally, he nodded in reluctant agreement. "Alright", he conceded, his tone tinged with resignation. "Let's get to the airport".

As the team found themselves confined to a dimly lit cell in the depths of the Vought tower, tension hung heavy in the air. Hughie paced back and forth, his frustration evident in every restless step.

"This is bullshit", he muttered under his breath. "We were so close to getting (Y/N) back".

Annie leaned against the cold concrete wall, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she surveyed their surroundings. "We need to find a way out of here", she stated , her gaze sweeping over the barred door with a steely determination.

MM nodded in agreement, his expression grim as he assessed their options. "Agreed. But we need to be smart about it", he cautioned.

As Homelander loomed over you at the examination table, his presence casting a sinister shadow over the room, you couldn't suppress the shiver of fear that coursed through your battered body. His smirk sent a chill down your spine as he gazed down at you with chilling satisfaction.

With a cruel glint in his eyes, Homelander turned to the doctors standing nearby. "Give her the double dose of pure Compound V", he ordered.

Your heart pounded in your chest as the doctors moved to obey his command, their expressions grim with resignation. As they prepared the syringe, dread washed over you like a tidal wave.

Homelander's gaze never wavered as he turned back to you, his smirk widening into a predatory grin. "This should probably kill you", he taunted, his words echoing with a chilling finality.

As the doctors approached with the syringe filled with Compound V, your muscles tensing in anticipation of the excruciating pain to come. You gritted your teeth, bracing yourself for the inevitable torment.

The doctors injected the double dose of Compound V into your bloodstream, the burning sensation spreading like wildfire through your veins. Agony tore through you, every nerve in your body ablaze with searing pain as the powerful substance coursed through your system.

You cried out in torment, your screams echoing off the sterile walls of the lab as you writhed in agony on the examination table. The world blurred around you, consumed by the white-hot agony that consumed every fiber of your being.

Homelander watched with cold detachment. "Pathetic", he sneered.

As the potent Compound V surged through your veins, the intensity of the pain became unbearable. Your vision blurred, darkness creeping in at the edges as your consciousness slipped away once more

Since you were unconscious, Homelander returned to the team.

His grin widened as he stood in front of the cell. "Well", he taunted. "Do you lot know about your little friend's impressive talents with Compound V?".

The team exchanged wary glances.

Homelander watched the team's expressions. "You see, your friend is pretty much dead", he explained. "But somehow, she still refuses to die".

An eerie silence fell over the room as the weight of Homelander's words settled upon the captive team. Again, they exchanged fearful glances, the gravity of the situation sinking in with each passing moment.

Frenchie´s jaw clenched tightly, his fists balling at his sides as he struggled to contain his rising anger. "What have you done to her?", he demanded.

But Homelander just chuckled. "Oh, nothing that she didn't bring upon herself", he replied casually. "But don't worry, I have big plans for her".

With a cold smirk, Homelander turned and strode away from the cell, leaving the team to grapple with the chilling realization of the danger you were facing.

"We can't just sit here and do nothing", Frenchie declared.

Annie nodded in agreement, her eyes flashing with urgency as she scanned their surroundings for any potential means of escape. "We need to find a way out of here".

Kimiko signed urgently, her movements quick and deliberate as she communicated her assent to the rest of the team. MM nodded solemnly, his expression grave as he prepared himself for the daunting task ahead.

Frenchie let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping with defeat as he glanced around the cell. “But… there’s no way out”, he admitted, his voice tinged with resignation. “These cells are designed to hold in any kind of supe or human, no matter how strong”.

Annie’s brows furrowed with frustration as she considered their predicament. “There has to be something we can do”, she insisted.

Hughie and MM exchanged worried glances, the gravity of their situation sinking in. “We’re screwed”, Hughie muttered.

As you slowly stirred from your slumber, your body aching from the ordeal you had endured, you found yourself greeted by the sight of Homelander looming over you, a cruel smirk playing on his lips

The doctors bustled around you, their movements precise and methodical as they continued to run another battery of tests, their expressions a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

Homelander's patience seemed to wear thin as he observed the proceedings, his frustration simmering beneath the surface. "What's taking so long?", he demanded, his voice sharp with impatience. "I want results, and I want them now".

The lead doctor glanced nervously at Homelander before returning his attention to his work, his hands trembling slightly as he adjusted the instruments. "We're doing everything we can, sir", he assured him, his voice trembling with fear.

But Homelander wasn't satisfied with the response, his temper flaring as he turned his attention back to you. "How is she still alive?", he spat, his voice tinged with disbelief. "She's just a human. That much of Compound V should have killed her by now".

As the hours dragged on, the relentless barrage of tests and procedures continued unabated, each one more invasive and agonizing than the last.

You drifted in and out of consciousness, the pain and exhaustion threatening to overwhelm you with each passing moment. Each time you faded into unconsciousness, you prayed for the sweet release of oblivion, only to be pulled back into the waking nightmare of your reality.

With each cut and incision, you felt your strength waning, your body growing weaker and more fragile with each passing moment. Yet still, you clung to life, your will to survive burning bright even in the face of such relentless torment.

Homelander watched with a mixture of fascination and frustration, his impatience growing with each failed attempt to unlock the secrets hidden within your seemingly ordinary frame. He paced the room restlessly, his eyes never leaving your prone form as he silently urged the doctors to try more drastic measures, unwilling to accept defeat.

With a roar of anger, he lashed out at the nearest piece of equipment, sending it crashing to the ground in a shower of sparks.

The doctors scrambled to appease him, their fear palpable in the air as they desperately tried to placate the enraged supe. But nothing seemed to calm Homelander's fury, his anger consuming him like a raging inferno.

In the midst of the chaos, you remained unconscious, oblivious to the turmoil unfolding around you. Your body lay still and lifeless, the only sign of your struggle the shallow rise and fall of your chest.

With a swift and deadly grace, Soldier Boy materialized behind the doctors, his presence like a shadow in the darkness. Without hesitation, he seized each of them by the heart, ripping the organs from their chests with a sickening crunch before tossing them aside like discarded toys.

As the lifeless bodies crumpled to the ground, Soldier Boy turned to face Homelander, his eyes smoldering with a fierce intensity. “You’ve made a fucking mistake”, he growled.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 I can't wait to upload Chapter 16

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Part 16

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

[eclecticqueennerd]

Confessions

Part 5

*language, violence, mention of p*rn, mentions of dr*gs, angst, smexual situations 18+ please*

Soldier Boys POV

He couldn’t give two shits about Butcher’s vendetta against Homelander. He didn’t need his help in settling the score against Payback, I’m the first goddamn supe. The only reason why he stuck around with the boys is because of y/n. He thought he was in love before with the Countess but boy was he wrong. Sure, the Countess was gorgeous and had talent, especially when her lips were wrapped around his cock, but deep-down Ben felt like she was only doing things for him out of fear, a fear he didn’t see in y/n. Y/n had every right to be afraid, he blew up her friend and almost killed her for god’s sake, that’s not my fault, it's whatever those fucking Russkies did to me. He also killed one of her friends, MM was it, family members, okay that was my fault I was so high I couldn’t see straight. To impress y/n that he’s a better man than Butcher, Ben apologized, even though deep down he didn’t really mean it.

Ben and y/n talk about some of the most random shit. She’d tell him jokes he didn’t quite understand but would chuckle at anyway. He’d talk about meeting celebrities that have long since died and which ones were dickheads. On the rare times they had an hour free, she’d explain what was happening in Game of Thrones, ‘Why didn’t the dumbass just zigzag?” “I KNOW RIGHT? Goddamn it Rickon!” She’d have him listen to different bands from various eras; Ben decided that he liked listening to Wanted Dead or Alive. They’d bond over their love for discovering new foods, however, nothing they find will ever replace his love for a double bacon cheeseburger with extra bacon.

The rest of the gang slowly warmed up to Ben once they realized how fast y/n trusted him. They understood that he was a man out of time, and he needed to be taught a few things about this day and age. What he can and can’t do, how to address men and especially women, how to work a smartphone, and how to access the internet. There was one time, okay several times, Ben stumbled across a porn website by ‘accident’ on y/n’s ipad. The loud moans on the video echoed in the living room and Ben had to remember how to turn the sound down. Is it this button? *screenshot*. Ben would continue to fumble around with the device until he decided to give up. He’ll figure it out one day, but right now he needed to crank it out.

Frenchie and Ben would talk about their favorite illicit substances, Hughie would ask some dumb fucking questions which would almost always end up with him being tongue lashed by Ben. Even MM found it acceptable to sit on the same side of the room as him, they still never interacted. The only one that appeared to have a problem with how close Ben was getting with everyone was Butcher. Ben didn’t care about that though, he can go fuck himself. Every time Butcher would try to tell Ben something shitty about y/n and how he should focus on the mission and Homelander, Ben would just go about his day and reply, “Takes a real broken man to try and bring down a woman at the top of her game.”

But after all that, Ben’s favorite thing was going on missions with y/n and watching her work, it was his new religion. The way y/n’s hips sway back and forth in her skintight tactical suit showing the world she’s comfortable in her own skin, the brutality she showed towards their victims and the confidence she now exudes, Ben likes to think he had a hand in that.

*

Y/n grabs the knife from Ben’s belt. She proceeds forward to their tied-up victim, one that’s going in and out of consciousness. This is one tough bastard. His face all puffed up, lip busted and the hinting of dark bruises forming on his face. Then, a blood curdling scream,

“Tell us what we want to know! Where are the TNT Twins?” Ben saw his knife lodged just above the kneecap while y/n shook the man by the shoulders.

“I’d tell her where they’re at. She’s supposed to play nice cop.” Y/n twists the knife and screaming rang out again.

“Y/n the bastard is gonna bleed out before we get our info.”

“He won’t bleed out, at least not as fast as you’d think. Where I stabbed him just barely misses the major blood vessels that is embedded in the synovial joint. It’s riddled with nerves so if I do this,” she moves the knife slightly, the victim screams out, “He’ll feel it. If we don’t kill him by the end of this then any infection that penetrates the joint fluid, will.” Marry me.

“I don’t know where they're at now, but I know Herogasm is in 3 days at their place outside of New York!” The man confesses and gave the address to the house, Ben left the man tied up on the chair and walked towards the entrance of the dilapidated warehouse. While the two of you were walking back to Butcher's car, Ben asked,

“Normies don’t have that much force behind them to jab a knife into some assholes knee. What kinda powers you got?”

“I was a field surgeon in the United States Army before I joined the boys, so I know my way around the human body. When I stayed with Grace, they ran me through a series of tests and realized I’ve got strength and stamina, accelerated healing, heightened reflexes and a potential for hand-to-hand combat. I’m still working on that though. When training with Grace’s men, I was be too strong for them and break a bone or something so no one wanted to train with me. That was the end of that.”

“You know, I could train you if you wanted. Will be a little harder to break my bones doll. Plus you get to be up close and personal with the nation's hero Soldier Boy.” Ben throws in a wink for good measure. Y/n giggles,

“Thanks, but no. I’d rather stick with the knives.” Y/n waved Bens knife around in the air. Ben reached out and grabbed it and placed it back in its sheath.

“Which by the way you need your own. You can’t keep taking mine whenever you feel like it.” You could take anything from me whenever you want. Shit, take me right now.

“Are you twats ready to go yet or should I circle around the block?”

*

Y/n’s scent was intoxicating, her musk mixed with the vanilla scent of her perfume, not too light, not too heavy, just right. Ben, being the upstanding gentleman he is, let y/n sit in the front seat but learned the back of Butchers cadillac was torture. The limited leg room, lack of airflow to the back of the car and the shitty rear suspension almost made Ben regret giving up the front seat. Almost. If he positioned himself just right, Ben could see y/n tits bounce up and down in her top every time the car hit a pothole. Ben had to adjust himself on occasion to accommodate the semi chub growing in his pants.

The car was placed in park, and everyone exited. Finally. Once you reached the hideouts front door, Ben commented,

“You know, you have quite a knack for that.” y/n looked up at him questioningly. “Torture. Where’d you learn it? I’m assuming they didn’t teach you that in basic training.” y/n huffed,

“No. I picked up a few things from that one there,” she points to Butcher now slamming his bedroom door shut. “I just never had the stomach to follow through. I shall never intentionally do or administer anything to the overall harm of my patients and all that jazz.” Ben poured himself a glass of whiskey.

“What’s changed?”

“I don’t’ know, but I think I like it.” y/n flicked her hair back using her hands. She was being sassy, is that what they call it nowadays? Ben poured out a glass of whiskey for y/n and they both downed the amber liquid, simultaneously let out an exhale to help rid the burning sensation.

“We’ll I’m a bloody mess, I need a shower.” Y/n went to her room and grabbed a fresh set of clothes. Ben poured himself another glass of whiskey as he watched y/n come out of her room again. She was looking right at him and had this look on her face, eyes darker. Y/n slowly walked into the bathroom, keeping eye contact and gently shutting the door. Ben downed the glass of whiskey and walked over to the bathroom. She wants to get up close and personal with Solider Boy in a different way, got it.

@butchers-girl @xmariakx

@deans-spinster-witch

[iluvnewports]

Canary | Part II

part I here

Tumblr hates posting my foremats!

18+, minors dni

✹✹✹✹✹✹✹✹✹✹✹✹✹✹✹✹✹✹✹✹✹✹✹✹✹✹✹✹✹✹✹

You’ve been walking around with a head held high lately and it’s not hard to see why. 

It may or may not involve a certain driven English bastard turned wanted murderer. And the couch. And that one time in the car. Maybe also, possibly, a subway bathroom stall. 

You’ve both agreed to keep this whole situation to yourselves and while you think you’re acting completely nonchalant, you can’t deny there’s a certain pep in your step. Same for him. He’s been a little less brutish than normal. 

Things have been calm, as calm as things can be when you’re one of the most wanted criminals in the country, but you’re not sure what else you’d call it. Starlight—Annie—has been trying to get her hands on a sample of Compound V, per the plan that Butcher didn’t really care for. He doesn’t really like Annie on account of being a Supe, but you like her just fine. She’s funny and sweet, though she can act pretentious at times. But Butcher can’t see past the fact of what’s in her DNA.

Just another stark difference between the two of you, you suppose. 

Annie got a lead from Stormfront's laptop about the Sage Grove Center, explaining why you and the rest of the group are now standing about ninety yards away, half of you dressed in orderly scrubs. You, Butcher, Hughie, and Annie decide to hang back just in case while M.M, Frenchie, and Koniko go inside. 

You and Butcher sit atop the van’s roof, Butcher flat on his stomach looking down the scope of a rifle at the building as you sit criss-crossed beside him, eyes squinting as you look up to the sky, hair blowing back into your face. You two haven’t said much to each other but it’s okay. It’s a comfortable silence. 

You know he’s in a mood right now since Annie is here helping physically. He can do with her leads, sure, her undercover work, but he hates having to be around her. You’re hoping your presence can at least help some to put him at ease. You look over, watching Annie and Hughie awkwardly flirt. Their dynamic is so odd, but can you really say anything? Even if it’s odd, it’s sort of cute. 

“Are they in?” You ask, unable to see much because of the distance. 

“Yeah, looks like it.” He lowers the scope, poking up a bit. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” You know what’s bothering him and you don’t expect him to talk about it or share it with you first. Sometimes you have to poke the bear. 

“What about?” He asks as he looks back through the scope, surveying the area. You smile to yourself; yup, just as you expected. 

“Maybe the fact that you’re not too happy with Annie being here.” You poke at him. 

“Oh for fucks sake, are you all on a first-name basis now? Braiding friendship bracelets while you all suck off the Supe?” Butcher scoffs as he looks over his shoulder at you. 

“Yeah, I made mine in green.” You flash your wrist sarcastically as you prop your knees up more comfortably. “You know we wouldn’t have this lead without her.” 

Butcher purses his lips, lowering his scope as he furrows his brows in thought. You’re right and he knows it. He opens his mouth to talk, but just as he does, a loud boom sounds throughout the sky. Flying. Butcher quickly picks up his scope, waving his hand at you to get low and you comply. 

It’s Stormfront, landing just close enough that she doesn’t see the giant hole in the fence that Annie had made. You watch in horror, grabbing the walkie from near Butcher. 

“M.M, Stormfront is here, be careful.” You warn them quietly, not expecting a reply as you scoot towards the edge of the roof, Annie offering a hand before you jump. You gladly accept her help with a smile and a small ‘thanks’.

Butcher lowers his scope as he mutters a curse under his breath, shaking his head as he notices you standing down with Starlight which he doesn’t like. “Looks like Stormcunt is here.” Butcher huffs. Always a wrench in the plan, some way or another. 

“Oh God, what do we do?” Hughie panics slightly. 

“Nothing, that’s what we fuckin’ do.” Butcher stands up, rifle in hand as he nears the edge. Annie offers her hand to him which he ignores, jumping down as he leans into the open van door to grab his handgun just in case, cocking it and placing it in his belt behind him. 

You hear Annie sigh and you shoot her an apologetic look as Hughie looks more pitiful than anything.

Your walkie crackles and you pull it from your waistband, holding it up between the four of you. Butcher’s ears perk up as he turns, all waiting and looking at one another as the radio static continues. 

“They’re experimenting on… on the patients. Compound V. Against their will,” crkkkkkk, “this is so fucked.” M.M whispers as you hear a commotion on the other end. “They’re just… killing them.” Another radio crackle. 

Your brows furrow as you raise your head to look at Butcher with an equally worried—or angry—face. He goes to snatch the walkie from you but you jerk your hand back, slapping his hand away with a head shake. Anger bubbles within his chest, scoffing at your hand slap, as if he were some sort of child. 

You say nothing as the walkie-crackles cease, placing it back onto your pant’s waistband. You all stand in tense silence, looking at one another as Butcher fumes silently, ready to pop a vein as he looks at Annie. 

Butcher suddenly points his loaded rifle straight at Annie’s face, Annie gasping as Hughie immediately starts panicking, shouting, “Woah!” Your jaw drops.

“Real fuckin’ convenient that as soon as we get here Stormcunt shows up. But it’s just a coincidence, right?” Butcher looks down the line of the barrel, steadying it so it’s pointed directly center of her forehead. “And now they’re sayin’ they’re experimenting on people, killin’ em. You Supes, all the fucken same.”

“Butcher, she’s on our side!” You try and reason with him, shouting at him in hopes he’ll listen.

Annie’s eyes glow brightly as you can feel the electricity crackle within the air, your body hair standing up on end. “Get that thing out of my face.”

“Or what? You’ll kill me?” Butcher laughs coldly, shrugging. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Butcher—!” Hughie tries to interject.

“Oh shut the fuck up, Hughie.” Butcher spits venomously. “You’re just as bad seeing you’re banging the cunt. Sleeping with the enemy, eh?” 

“Billy!” You finally shout which causes him to lower his gun and look at you. You breathe in sharply, slicing your hand through the air firmly. “Put the goddamn gun down.” 

“Oh so you’ll only listen unless you’re fucking one of us, that’s great to know.” Hughie laughs bitterly.

“Hughie…” you trail off. 

“No.” He shrugs you off, shaking his head. “Just shut the fuck up.” Your heart aches in your chest at his sudden coldness, your brows furrowing as hurt morphs over your face. You’ve never had him snap on you like this, despite everything you two have been through. “You want to talk about sleeping with the enemy? How could you be with someone like him? He abandoned us!”

Butcher notices your silence, watching the way hurt paints across your features. He lowers his gun down by his side as he goes toe to toe with Hughie, towering over him. “Watch yourself Hughie.” He warns.

Hughie throws his hands in the air, laughing before stepping forward, seemingly not backing down. “Fuck you, Butcher.” 

It’s now you and Annie trying to talk both of them down, pull them apart, but they won’t budge. “Guys—!”

An alarm rings out loudly, causing everyone’s head to turn as you turn on your heels and grab the walkie. “M.M? Is everything okay?” 

No response, an explosion going off somewhere within the building. And that’s when Butcher clocks Hughie straight in the jaw who falls like a sack of potatoes, Annie diving down to comfort him as he holds his bleeding nose. Butcher points at him, his voice falling very low. “You don’t fuckin’ talk to her that way. Not around me.” 

You’re embarrassed by the encounter, watching the way your two friends look at you as they lay on the ground. Your face burns, too blindsided by rage and betrayal to fully comprehend what he had just said. You immediately snap your walkie off your hip and push it into his hands, tears welling in your eyes as you send a look of apology towards your hurt friends before climbing into the van without another word. All you want is to be alone right now. 

Butcher scowls at your action, calling back to M.M on your walkie, which you can’t really hear as it’s so muffled behind the closed door. You lean away from the door, looking in the other direction of the van so no one has to see the angry tears slipping down your face. God damn, he’s such a fucking brute. It’s a different conversation within the bedroom, but he should know better than anyone else that you don’t like to be submissive anywhere but. You’ve always hated the way he needs to assert himself, and now you’re directly involved.

The way Hughie looked at you… you can’t stop thinking about it. He looked so hurt, so betrayed. You two have always been like siblings, you always had each other’s backs. He took it so hard when Butcher seemingly disappeared off the face of the Earth. You were too, but you were strong, for him. If you’re Butcher’s canary, Hughie’s yours. 

The leather is sleek against your clothes and you can almost slip around in your seat as you try and pose yourself away from the door, knees dipping down towards the left. It’s silent outside the van and you can only assume that they’re all staring at each other intensely. It is Butcher’s specialty, after all. 

You’re brooding in silence, ready for it all to be over, hoping your friends are safe. 

Until it’s not. Until you hear shouting. And before you can look behind you, the van is suddenly flipping onto itself three times over, rolling about in the empty field. Your body thrashes around the metal van, throwing you into the back of the van as you’re thrown around, hitting all walls and corners as your body contorts and bends in ways you didn’t think were imaginable. It all happens so fast, it’s all such a blur, that you can’t comprehend it until you’re lying on your side as the van tilts and steadies right back up on its wheels. 

You slowly push yourself up, arms wobbling beneath your weight as you grunt out. Everything is so heavy, so blurred, so dizzy. You hear your name being called by three separate voices but the ringing in your ears is too loud to get past. You weakly push the doors open as they’re pulled, stumbling out onto the grass and almost falling to your knees as you look around. 

“Y/N…” Butcher looks as Annie gasps to herself, Hughie covering his mouth as you hold your hands out, trying your best to focus on what’s in front of you. Your torso is itchy, you feel itchy and you feel warm. 

You look down to your stomach, a large fragment sticking through the upper right of your stomach, your torn skin jagged and ripped apart as crimson clots around it slightly, thick crimson pouring down your frontside. You cough, your knees buckle. 

You collapse.

“Oh my god.” Annie gasps as Butcher jets down to scoop you up into your arms, carrying you bridal style as your head lulls back limply. All chaos and anger are put to the side, enemies become allies as they set aside their differences for the common goal of saving you.

Butcher looks down at your stomach, blood staining his clothes and palms as his worried eyes scan your colorless face. “Can you cauterize it?” He looks up to Starlight, who stutters over herself, gesturing to your wound. 

“Maybe—! I-It won’t last long!” 

“Do it, for god's sake, just do it.” He shakes his head, lifting you up at an angle so she can have access to your torso. She burns the wound with the fragment still inside, stopping the bleeding—for now.

“What about them?” Hughie asks, referring to M.M and them. Butcher shakes his head, immediately rushing forward towards the way of the road behind the thick woods. 

“Fuck them, they’re on their own.” He shakes his head as he looks down at you, the inner conflict of the situation settling across his features. You’re in between unconsciousness and reality at this point, slipping between the two gradually. Hughie and Annie follow closely behind Butcher, both unsure of his plan but following along anyway as they hold worry within their hearts. Hughie regrets snapping on you if only he could take it back. 

Then you wouldn’t have been in that fucking van. 

“We need a car,” Butcher says thickly, pulling you closer to him as fingers hook from beneath and wrap around your body. Your cheek rests against his inner forearm, groaning with furrowed brows. You’re so beyond frazzled that the pain is instead a dull, uncomfortable throbbing throughout your body. Tame, yet enough to drive you mad.

The three of them eventually flag down—or really, carjack—someone’s car on the road, leaving them behind with a card for Susan Raynor with him as Annie speeds down the road, Butcher holding you close in the backseat.

“Please let me do this. You gotta’ let me do this one fucking thing for ya’.” Butcher whispers to you, rubbing at your cheek as he holds your face. Your legs lay across his lap as you lean against the car door, Butcher leaning forward just enough so he wasn’t putting any weight on you. “You’re going to be okay.” It’s more of a plea to God himself than reassurance. 

He tucks a stray hair behind your ear, somehow bloodied deep red. Your face is so pale, so drained of life and color as he holds your face, wiping his thumb over your cheek again just to feel you. He repeats his soothing mantra to not go insane. 

“You’re going to be okay.”

—

You’re somewhere calm, in a serene field that stretches for miles, perfectly cut grass with small flowers. You look down; you’re barefoot, wearing a flowing dress that cuts off just above your knees, loose sleeves comfortably falling down your arm until it elopes around your wrist. You’re clean, comfortable, calm. 

You place two hands on your stomach, smoothing down your dress as you lift your head. There he is, in all his glory. Butcher, standing about six feet away from you, same beach shirt with the two buttons popped open, glistening chest expose with chest hair poking through. 

“‘Ello gorgeous.” He walks towards you, grabbing your two hands as he gives you a once-over. Everything is perfect; you don’t feel nervous, embarrassed. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” 

You smile, giving him a quick kiss on the lips. You don’t need to question why you’re here or where you are. Everything is perfect.

The scene changes and suddenly you’re laying on your back, plush grass pillowing your back as the collar of your dress is pulled down beneath your chest, wetness coating your nipple as Butcher’s tongue swirls around your left breast, sucking slightly as you sweetly moan into the air around you, fingers tangling within his thick black hair. Your leg is exposed as he pulls your leg up against his side, fingers gripping and digging into the flesh of your thigh as he grinds against your cotton underwear. 

He kisses your neck, lapping his tongue upwards and suckling on your ear. His heavy breath sends chills down your spine and your skin ignites in chills when he whispers in your ear in response to your moans, “I know sweetheart, I know.” 

Everything changes again and you’re now on top of him, dress hiked up your legs as you grind on his cock. His hands grip your hips, pulling you back and forth, cock wedged up your cunt as you bounce slightly, head lolled backward as your pants are met with the breeze of the open sky above you. Butcher sits upright, pulling you into his chest as you gyrate back and forth, cock plunging deep within you and causing that amazing friction you know all too well. His tongue finds its way back to your breast, suckling on it as you moan out. 

You’ll never get used to how big he is, it’s as if he breaks you in every time, stretching you out for his liking. He bites down on your breast, causing you to wince as you grab both sides of his face, forcing him to look at you. 

“Sorry love,” he smiles, lips parting as he watches you ride him with such intensity, such need. Your back arches against him, his arms wrapped around you as he pushes into the arch of your back further against him. The light-headed feeling is slowly making its appearance, the burning between your legs becoming more intense as your lower stomach bubbles, your panting picking up and you moan out into the air. Your ears ring as you’re pushed over the edge, straight into the arms of your climax, Butcher gripping a fist full of hair as your eyes fall shut. He nips at your throat, giving you the perfect balance of pleasure and pain as you cry out, cock rubbing into you and hitting the spot as you feel his cock twitch inside of you, spilling his seed as you clench around him, tip repeatedly hitting your cervix with a dull pain that can only be described as feeling right. 

Eyes shoot open and you’re faced with a white ceiling, the feeling of IVs stuck in your arms making you cringe as you lay up in a hospital bed fit with a gown. You’re disoriented, bright light blinding you as you sit up with a wince, your hand flying to your stomach as you collapse back down. You can feel the rough stitches beneath your gown’s thin fabric. 

Looking around, you notice Butcher facing the window, his back to you as he stares silently, lost deep in thought. The sun is setting. It’s nice to see it from this height instead of being stuck in some dark, wet basement. 

“Are you okay?” You ask him, knowing what sort of things he can get into when he’s left in that mind of his. As soon as he hears your voice he immediately turns, his features relaxing as he gives you a once-over. 

“You get impaled and almost die and ask if I’m okay?” Butcher chuckles as he walks over to your bed, placing two hands on either side of your cheeks and planting a lasting kiss on your lips. 

“How’re you feeling?” He asks in a whisper as if you’ll break apart into his hands if he’s too loud, allowing your face to relax as he sits down across from you. 

You shrug nonchalantly with a hum. “Little sore.” 

His hands still haven’t let go of your face, eyes flickering between both of your own. “Yeah?” He humors as if to say no shit. 

“Kind of stupid to bring me to a hospital.” You wrap your hand around Butcher’s forearm as you rub against the rough skin, his arm hair soft against the pads of your fingers. “It’s a miracle I didn’t wake up handcuffed to the bed.” 

You watch Butcher’s face contort into a smirk, just watching the dirty thoughts run across his mind. You tsk, and when he opens his mouth, you put your finger up and press it down to the pad of your thumb, signing “no,” as you hum with a brow raised. He releases a breath in humor, smiling as he tilts his head. Hands slide down your face, one resting on your shoulder as the other rests within the crane of your neck. His face suddenly falls, now looking at you solemnly. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He shakes his head, brows furrowing and he can’t even look into your eyes, instead looking down between you. “This should’ve never happened. None of this was supposed to happen.” 

“Butcher…” You trail off with a small sigh, shaking your head as you place your hands atop his in comfort. “It isn’t your fault. Shit like this is just inevitable, in our position, our line of work. The way we live. It’s our hand dealt.” 

“I know that.” Butcher turns stern. “Jesus fucking Christ, you don’t think I know that?”

“Then—?”

“It’s too dangerous.” He shakes his head. “I don’t—I can’t—“

He can’t even speak. He almost lost you today and he honestly can’t handle it. You shake your head again, placing your hands on his face as you force him to look at you. “Billy,” you say gently. His empty eyes look at yours. He’s already lost so much, you know that. “I know. But we’re in this together, yeah?” You shake your head to encourage him.

“We’ve been through a lot these past couple years, and even before we…” He swallows. Hearing him speak so gently isn’t something you’re used to. “I’ve always cared for you, you know that. With everything we’ve been through the past year, these past couple years, this is the first time I’ve ever considered quitting.” Butcher’s eyes switch between yours as your thumb strokes his beard, your eyes heavy with sadness as your heart aches. 

His hands fall from you as he recoils, regressing away so he can collapse in on himself. He looks away again. “I don’t want to lose you.” 

“Hey, hey,” you whisper, grabbing his rough hands and pulling him closer. “You won’t lose me. I’m here, I’m still here.”

He nods, though you’re not really convinced. You decide to take a different approach.

You lay back into your bed, patting beside you. Your bed is just big enough to allow it and all you want to do is use this moment to reassure him. Fuck Homelander, fuck Vought, fuck everything right now. All you have right now is each other. Butcher complies, crawling up and collapsing next to you. You both face forward, your head falling to rest on his shoulder as you take his hand in yours. It’s silent, but that’s okay. 

Everything is falling apart, but amid the chaos, you want to ground yourself in a moment to appreciate what you have. You don’t have a lot, but you do have people who care for you. And honestly, for the moment, that’s okay. It’s worth it to have moments like these. 

“I had a dream, just before I woke up.” Everything’s so heavy, so you decide to turn to something else. 

“Oh yeah?” He leans his head down onto yours. 

“It was you and me in a field. It was beautiful. I was wearing a dress and you were in your stupid beach shirt.” You giggle to yourself as he scoffs. 

“What’s wrong with my shirt?” He’s offended. You snort. 

“Yeah, I’ve heard beach shirts are all the rave in England.” Butcher rolls his eyes. 

“We were in the field, it was nice. Calm.” You smile with a shrug, remembering how it made you feel. “Then we were fucking.” 

Butcher’s eyebrows lift as he turns his head so you can see him, pleasantly surprised. “We were banging? In a field?”

You nod with a smile. “Better than a car, hm?” 

“I’ll say. Maybe after all of this is over we can go there, yeah?” 

You turn back to face the door as you lean back into him, eyes closing gently as you daydream of it all. “As long as it’s far away.”

“Wouldn’t want it any other way.”

You smile with a hum, stroking against the back of his hand, catching some hair beneath your thumb. You don’t want to bring up what he said earlier in fear of him shutting down; you know how he is. You hope you can talk about it later, if later ever comes. 

Despite his need to constantly be strong for others, you want to be strong for him. And that’s why you can’t admit, you won’t admit, that you’re scared too. The two of you constantly tiptoe around death every day. But today was too close of a call. You’re scared, even more than you were before. You’ve always known you could die; That’s not the issue. The issue is that if you do, you’re finally realizing what you’d be leaving behind. 

And upon that realization, you’re scared. Butcher has already lost so much that maybe you take into consideration that your loss may be too much. And you don’t know what to do with that fact. 

You pack it away for later. Because for right now, all you want to do is absorb what is now. Who knows how much of it you even have left? You take a deep breath as you memorize the way his hand feels beneath yours right now or the way his soft breaths feel against your temple. The way his beard scratches your skin slightly. 

“Me neither.”

[cheynovak]

Family business: Part 2   

Billy Butcher & Sarah Butcher x Soldier boy  

Warnings:  Age difference, cursing, violence, ... it's the boys... what not  

Side note: English isn’t my first language.   

Didn't proof read, i'm sorry for any mistakes

*Does not follow The Boys storyline *  

It took a while I'm soooo sorry! But here is part 2  

-- 

Recap: Sarah is Billy Butcher’s daughter from a previous relationship. He did not raise her. Years later Billy’s and Sarah’s paths cross when they search for the weapon that killed Soldier boy only to find the supe himself, who seems to have an special interest in Sarah. After a night together she is pregnant.  

Dealing with this situation and Soldier boy being locked away again she gets a call from Homelander.  

-- 

New York City, where towering skyscrapers cast long shadows over the streets below, Sarah stood at the edge of a rooftop, her gaze fixed on the bustling cityscape. Contemplating about all that happened over the last few months.  

A huge fight with Billy made her decided to take the offer of Homelander. A safe place for her and the kid. “Since we’re practically family.” He had said. She knew better than to trust him. But Billy had his own demons to fight.  

Billy... she had inherited his stubbornness and sharp tongue, traits that often led to heated arguments between father and daughter. The last one gave her a final push to take off and move into the Vought tower. 

As Sarah leaned against the edge of the rooftop, lost in her thoughts, she couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled in her chest. Her mind drifted to the child growing inside her, a constant reminder to watch her back.  

Weeks turned into months, and Sarah found herself settling into her new life at Vought Tower. Homelander had been surprisingly accommodating, providing her with everything she needed to ensure her comfort during her pregnancy. 

But behind the facade of kindness, Sarah sensed something wrong. There was a coldness in Homelander's eyes whenever they crossed paths, a distance that seemed to grow with each passing day. 

As her due date drew nearer, Sarah couldn't help but feel a sense of loneliness creeping in. Despite being surrounded by luxury, she longed for the warmth of family, for someone to share in her joy and fears. God she missed her mom.  

Tonight, Sarah gathered all her courage to confront Homelander. The air in the room crackled with tension as they stood face to face with him. “John," Sarah's voice was firm, though tinged with desperation, "You need to find Ben. My child needs his father." 

Homelander's gaze remained cold and unyielding, his expression betraying none of the turmoil that Sarah felt churning inside her. "And why should I do that? He tried to kill me." he retorted, his voice dripping with disdain. 

Frustration boiled within Sarah as she struggled to contain her rising anger. "Because it's the right thing to do!" she shot back, her voice trembling with emotion.  

“He needs a father yes, I can be his father.” For a moment, there was silence as the weight of Sarah's words hung heavy in the air. Those words made Sarah’s blood boil and without a single thought to it she hit the side of his face. But before Homelander could respond, a sudden movement caught Sarah off guard.  

Ryan. 

With a swift motion, he pushed Sarah aside, causing her to stumble and fall to the ground, he stepped forward “Leave my dad alone," he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Pain shot through Sarah as she hit the ground, Homelander came rushing down to her. “Are you ok?”  - “I’m fine” she said pulling her arm out of his grip. But as she walked back to her room. Sarah felt a sharp pain radiating through her abdomen. Panic rushed through her as she realized that there was something wrong.  

Frantically, she reached for her phone, but before she could dial for help, Homelander appeared. His expression was unreadable as he took in the scene before him. 

Without a word, he scooped Sarah into his arms and carried her to the medical wing of Vought Tower. As the hours passed, Sarah's pain intensified, but Homelander remained by her side, his presence a strange mixture of comfort and discomfort. 

Finally, the cries of a newborn filled the room, and Sarah's heart swelled with love as she held her son for the first time. But as she looked up at Homelander, she saw something flicker in his eyes, something she couldn't quite decipher. 

He wants my child, he wants his fucked up family no matter what. I need to keep him safe. Was all Sarah could think.  

As Sarah cradled her newborn son in her arms, her heart heavy with fear and uncertainty, she knew there was only one person she could turn to for help: her father.  

"Sarah?" Billy's voice sounded gruff yet concerned as he answered the call. "What's the matter, lass? She sounds distressed." “Can we meet?” “  

“Where?”  

“The old bridge?”  

"I'm on my way, Sarah. Just hold tight," he assured her, his voice laced with determination. As Sarah hung up the phone, a sense of relief washed over her. Despite their differences, she knew that her father would do whatever it took to protect her and her son. 

Minutes felt like hours as Sarah anxiously waited for her father's arrival. With each passing moment, her fear grew, Sarah's heart leaped with relief as she saw her father striding towards her, his expression fierce yet determined. 

Sarah's eyes filled with tears as she recounted the events that had transpired at Vought Tower, her voice shaking with emotion. She told her father about the confrontation with Homelander, the fear for her son's safety.  

Billy's fists clenched with anger as he listened to his daughter's story, the flames of his hatred for Supes burning brighter than ever. "We'll figure this out, Sarah," Billy said, his voice firm yet comforting as he pulled her into a tight embrace. 

“We need to get out of there Billy.” She said leaning in against his jacket. “I have no idea how, but we need to.” “Hang on just a little longer, luv. We’ll come up with something.”  

Then it hit her, “Ben...” she whispered, “What about him?” Billy pulled away to look at her. "He is our ticket to safety.” Bily shook his head. “No way, he is dangerous luv.”  

“No, he would want his son to be safe... He would want me safe, I know it.” “Homelander is his son too. He won’t choose.” Her eyes teared up.” Billy, please.” A single tear left her eyes. “I never asked for anything, please.” Despite Billy's past with him he was willing to look for him.  

Sarah did everything in her power to help search for him. But as weeks passed Homelander became more and more invested in Sarah and the child. “Decided on a name yet?” he asked her as he looked over the new born. “No.” was all she answered watching him closely.  

Meanwhile, Billy Butcher prowled the streets of New York, his rugged features etched with determination as he searched tirelessly for Soldier Boy. Billy was a force to be reckoned with, fuelled by vengeance and a burning desire to protect his daughter and grandson.  

Back in the confines of Vought Tower, Sarah's nerves were fraying with each passing moment. She knew she couldn't rely on rescue from the outside; her fate and that of her newborn rested solely on her own shoulders.  

She decided to search the Vought basements to find something to defend her and her baby boy. As she roamed the labyrinth underneath the tower she stumbled on to a box like she saw in Russia.  

Could it be?  

As she wanted to approach, she heard the doors opening, deciding to hide in the room a crossed the hall. Sarah noticed how Homelander walked in the room she just wanted to explore.  

“I really don’t understand why she so desperately needs you.” He said to himself “I mean, I could be as good as a father as you.” And then it hit her. He wasn’t talking to himself.  

“You will never see that child, you betrayed me like all of them. But don’t worry. I’ll take care of him.” As Homelander walked away all Sarah could hope is that he didn’t saw her in the other room.  

She waited an extra minute before walking back to the box. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw Ben. Time to wake up, sleeping beauty. She whispered while trying to open it.  

“Shit!” For some reason she couldn’t open the small vault he was in. “I can’t leave you here.” She thought for a second. ”Ben?” Sarah started “Can you hear me?” a small pause. “I don’t know if this would work, but... our baby boy is born.” 

“A little early but he is strong and healthy.”  

“I’m waiting on you to name him. You should see him Ben, he is so vibrant and beautiful. He sleeps really well, I guess he has that from is dad.” Sarah’s eyes started to tear up. “Please Ben fight. If not for me for your son.” Her hand placed on the box.  

Ben’s eyelids seemed to move slightly, but Sarah had no idea if it was her imagination or if he was trying to talk to her. “I’ll be back here. I promise I won’t leave you alone. I’m coming back, ok?”  

Another few days passed.  

Sarah tried to visit Ben as much as possible, hoping he could hear everything she said to him. She mostly talked about their son. “I was thinking, after all this we could move to the countryside? You me and the kid.” She tapped the box softly before kissing the glass softly.  

“Where did you go.” The familiar cold voice said while she got out of the elevator. Sarah’s heart skipped a beat. “Jeez Homelander, don’t sneak up on me like that.” She tried to sound as normal as possible.  

“I took a walk.” -” Alone?” he asked. “Uhu.” Sarah walked back to her room. “Where did you go?” Homelander followed close. “The eh, park.” - “Interesting, I would have sworn hearing you in the basement talking to Soldier Boy.  

Sarah’s feet stopped within the second, frozen to the floor. She wanted to explain everything, or at least made up a make-believe lie. But before she could say another word Homelander shoved her to the wall. His hands firm on her throat. 

“You made a foolish mistake Sarah. I gave you the chance to have a family. I told you we could be a family. But know you chose to let your kid to grow up without a mother.”  

Her eyes grew wide although she couldn’t respond. Homelander dropped her to the floor again. “I’m giving you one last chance Sarah...” But before he could finish that sentence, she kicked him in the balls as hard as she could and ran back to the elevator.  

Thank God she had practise with kick at least he was distracted for a moment. Just long enough for her to reach and close the elevator. Going down back to Ben. In full panic searching for something to break the glass. All she found was pinchers.  

Trying to cut the gas tube on Ben’s box. The gas stopped floating to his box, straight into the air. Making Sarah dizzy and faint next to the box on the floor. By the time she got by, she felt a pair of strong hand around her.  

Sarah looked up, seeing how Ben carried her out of the basement. “B-Ben?” -”Hi sweetheart. Try to stay awake, ok? You inhaled a lot of gas.” She tried to listen to his words but could only think of one thing before she black out again. “B-Ben.” she repeated.  

“Our son. Please...” her head fell back against his shoulder.  

-- 

“I don’t fucking care what you think! He is my fucking son and I’ll bust him out even if it’s the last thing I do.” Sarah heard Ben’s angry voice in a far distance. She tried to open her eyes, scanning the era.  

She was in an unfamiliar bedroom. Seeing how Ben and Billy were talking, or better yet, screaming outside. Annie walked in. “Oh, good you’re awake.” She smiled soft. “I brought you some food.”  

“What happened?” Sarah asked her. “You inhaled a lot of gas while saving Soldier Boy. You’ve been in and out of coma of the past five days.” She said in a soft voice. “F-five days?” Sarah felt the panic in her chest pressing down on her. 

“Oh god... Oh god...” - “hey, hey calm down. You need to calm down Sarah. BUTCHER!” She yelled trying to hold her back without hurting her.  

As Billy and Ben walked in her eyes flew straight to Ben. “Where is he?” He kneeled in front of her. “Sarah” Her sight blurred with tears. “T-tell me you got him out Ben...” She could see how his lips twitched trying to hold back his emotions.  

“TELL ME YOU GOT MY BABY!” Sarah’s anger and pain distracted her from thinking straight. Her fists hit his rock hard chest over and over. “I asked you! I begged you! GO fucking find him you piece of shit! Find my boy!”  

“Hey, hey, hey, Shh... look at me.” Ben at first let you release your anger at him before he tried to hold you down. “Look at me. I’ll find him Sarah I promise!” His large hand wrapped around her head pushing her close to him.  

Butcher saw how he held her in his arms. The embrace seemed to cool her down as they both sat on the floor. Ben whispering promises to her which she felt she didn’t needed.  

-- 

Sarah stood outside, in the garden of this lovely house surrounded by meadows. Without looking back, she could hear Ben’s footsteps. “Why?” She asked him still to giving him a look. “Why didn’t you go after him?”  

“I had to choose. You were already in my arms. I brought you out to fresh air and luckily I did or you would be dead. You spend almost an entire week in and out of a fucking coma.  

Sarah felt the tears in her eyes sting again.  

“I went back, you got to believe me. “His hands moved to her shoulders, he could feel how the tensed up, almost flinching at his touch, but not moving. “But he was gone and so was the baby. I burned that place down. As I will burn every fucking place, house or even store that he was in.” 

“Sarah?” Ben whispered trying to get her attention. “You should have saved him, then this wouldn’t happened.” “No but you would be dead.” Sarah turned to Ben and looked him dead in the eye. “Consider me dead if you don’t find him.” And walked back inside.  

--  

Finally, after some stone-cold days in the house Billy found a lead.  

To her surprise Billy didn’t want Sarah to come. “Are you out of your mind? He is my son Butcher! I’m the best human asset you have!” - “And that Luv is why you are staying home, you lose sight of the bigger picture, you lose your mind when it’s about him.”  

“No, the boys, myself and Ben. That’s it, end of fucking discussion.” Sarah looked at Ben who seemed to agree. “Since when do you two get along?!” she bit before turning her back to them.  

Minutes turned into hours. Annie volunteered to stay with her, in case the fight would come to them and moral support. She watched as Sarah walked nervous back and forward.  

Until... they hear the car doors slam. Sarah locked eyes with Annie. The women ran outside. “Where is he? Where are they?” Sarah asked in a whisper. seeing how they were all covered in blood and dust, Billy tapped her shoulder as the boys walk inside. “They’re in the car, bonding.” He kissed her head and left her alone.  

With small steps she approached the car, afraid? Nervous? Excited? She had no idea what the mixture of emotions was she felt. As she almost got to the car the back door opened. Ben got out holding their boy.  

Sarah could hold back her tears, seeing how their baby looked even smaller in his arms. “He is ok.” Ben reinsured. Sarah’s hand moved over his little head, her heart broke when she notice he already grew a little.  

“Thank you.” she said looking at their baby, but Ben knew it was for him. After a second Sarah’s eyes met his, she stood on her toes, holding her hand on his shoulder to close the space between their lips.  

A soft touch of their lips, a token of gratitude, an electric shock wave through their veins once their lips felt each other's. Sarah looking inside the car, noticing Ryan sitting in silence.  

“Hey buddy.” Sarah spoke in a sweeter than honey voice. “He helped us.” Ben said. “He is the reason we succeeded. I promised he could stay with us.” Sarah looked back at Ben. “Yes, yes of course.”  

"He took care of our boy while I fought Homelander. The kid is good." Ben said still not sure what Sarah thought of the situation. "Ryan, you are more than welcome to stay with us, you're save here." Sarah said.

-- -- --  

Sarah was feeding their baby boy on the porch of their house. Watching how Ryan and Ben are throwing the football. Billy walked over to his daughter "So, have you two came up with a name yet?"

Sarah smiled softy, “yes actually we did.” Ben walked closer, as Ryan hugged Billy. “Do you want to tell him?” She asked Ben. “It was your idea.” With his hand on her shoulder, she turns to her dad.  

“William Butcher, Grandad,” she started “Meet your grandson...” while handing him to Billy. 

“Lenny.”  

------------

If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

Taglist: @yvonneeeee

[forbidd3n-w1re]

Letting the walls down - Billy Butcher x Reader

hey-ho! i've had this idea for a while and had to pour it out, enjoy! 

 originally this was supposed to be a butcher x reader but while writing it i put in a tiny bit of hughie x reader, i mean you can see it if you squint lol-

 summary : you and butcher have been somewhat okay friends for a while, and even though he doesn't want to acknowledge it, he cant push everyone away.

 warnings : so much angst (i feed off of it.) nightmares, beating up, billy actually being nice to someone(you lol), billy also attacking hughie, scars, panic attack, flashbacks, heavy alcohol use, passing out, venting, traumatic past, mention of shootings, "cunt"'s (tell me if i forgot something please!)

 if any of these trigger you, please dont read this fanfic!

commission : nope!

 word count : ≈2800 words

 genre : angst, hurt/comfort (someone's gotta do it, right?)

(im so sorry this is so long i went wild with this one)

 //////~~`×`~~//////

Butcher wasn't a talkative type when it comes to his past. In fact, he never let anyone come close enough to him to know him very well. In the team, he was just the leader, the one that organized the plan and the strategy, the one that went head-first into danger.

You? You we're the one that held the team like a magnet.

When Hughie first joined, Butcher looked like he'd screw his head off if he made one wrong step. Every single time Butcher offended him and told him he was a cunt, you'd fight back for him. You knew that Hughie had it in him, he knew how to be defensive, but at that time it was risky to talk back to Butcher due to the fact how much Billy hated him. It happened a lot. It was like you were Butcher's tranquilizer.

Hughie appreciated everytime you stood on his side, even after every glare Billy made to you. Billy knew the death glare would work on Hughie because he looked like he shat his pants, but you? You did not twitch at all. No shiver. Nothing. You couldn't even bother to look back at him.

Sooner or later, Butcher's "cunt"'s and "wimp"'s that were addressed to Hughie weren't that frequent anymore. Sure, Butcher without using the word cunt at least once in a day was nonexistent, but they weren't said to Hughie anymore.

Until one day they had a pretty big fight about the new member, Annie, AKA Starlight. Butcher, the no.1 Supe hater immediately started swearing at Hughie for bringing her to the hideout. After some time, Annie left, and then the shit hit the fan.

"Oi, kid. Who the fuck do you think you are, bringin' over here some random chick? Who is, apparently, a fuckin' Supe?" Butcher started yelling at the guy, pushing him around.

"Listen, I-I know it wasn't a good idea, but please, hear me out--"

Butcher grabbed Hughie by the collar, slamming him against a pillar hardly, and the smaller figure of Hughie's let out a loud grunt.

"Shut yer' fuckin' trap right the fuck now. Do yer' understand in what danger we could be if she had a mic?" Butcher held his collar more tightly now, looking at him like he might just chop off his head at that moment. "No, you don't, Hughie. You know why? 'Cause you're nothing but a trashy, shitty li'l cunt who had managed to grab a single bit of luck to join my little team. If you continue being a little pussy, I swear on my mother that i will-"

Sensing that the fight seriously escalated, and totally not because Hughie had started to breathe more shallowly because of how hardly his chest was pressed against the pillar, you stood off the couch, grabbed a foldable plastic chair and pushed Butcher as far away from Hughie as you could.

Butcher not detecting the sudden attack had a much more violent tone in his voice now. He wanted a fair fight.

"Oi, the fuck do you think you're doin', li'l shit?" Not bothering to deal with Butcher's bickering, you focused on helping Hughie not fall down as he heaped for gasps of air.

"Hey, Hughie, focus. Focus on your breathing, alright?" You got the comment from other members of the team that you and Billy actually had a lot in common, but the calmness of your voice was something Billy could never achieve probably. Hughie looked at you, his look revealing how many apologies he wanted to tell you for making this now your problem, but you only gave him a hopeful nod and a smile. "Go take a seat on the couch. I have an inhalator in one of my jackets if you need it, alright hun?" Hughie only let out a quiet agreement, following your orders.

Butcher, on the other hand, his eye twitched a little when hearing the nickname you gave Hughie. He knew that the nicknames you gave to the team were all in platonic meanings, but he still felt that little twinge in his heart when he knew the silly nicknames weren't for him.

You followed up now to Butcher, staring up at him. He reeked of alcohol, probably from last night, and cigarettes. He tried to hold up a pissed face to you, but you knew he couldn't do it. Everyone has their secrets, Butcher's was his past, and the fact that everytime you looked badass, he loved it.

"Stay the fuck away from him, or I will pluck out your little so-called "bollocks", one by one, painfully." There was your angry tone, along with a bit of mocking his british dialect. Others were right, you guys did have a lot in common. Billy only smirked at your threat. Billy pushed past you, grabbing his jacket, and stated something that made you chuckle. "Im going out for a drink, try to stay out of the little wimp's underwear while I'm gone."

Hughie and you were alone in the hideout now. Annie left, M.M. was in a visit to his daughter, and Frenchie and Kimiko went on a date.

Approaching the curly haired figure, you heard his small coughing fits. Surely Butcher didn't hurt him that badly, right?

"Hughie? Hun, you alright?" Putting your hand on his shoulder from behind, you jumped over next to him. Hughie brought his head up, only this time he wasn't startled.

"Yeah, I'm alright. Thank you for everything that you've done, really. Especially back there, not everyone has the guts to practically throw Butcher away with a chair." He gave you a small smile.

"No problem. Besides, he shouldn't act like that towards anyone. And Annie was really sweet too-"

Hughie stopped you, quickly apologizing, but immediately continuing.

"No, no, I understand him. I shouldn't have done that, besides he isn't a big fan of Supes, and Annie might've had a mic but I know she wouldn't. We can't be careful enough, if they find us we're practically doomed." Hughie was now on Butcher's side at this point.

"But, you know… He does have a weak spot for you." Hughie gave you a smirk, knowing that if you had water in your mouth you'd probably spit it out after hearing this.

"Pardon?" You looked at him with wide eyes, not believing a single word the curly haired boy just said.

"Back there, when you threatened him. I know that he has this façade of his where he pretends like he's the strongest man alive, but he gave you a smile upon hearing you. I think he even liked the fact that you weren't scared to stand up to him."

You got up from the couch, looking at Hughie with the biggest shock. "What the hell do you mean?"

Hughie just smirked, "You should go check up on him. See how he's doing. I think you're the only one of us that might get closer to him. Don't tell him I sent you there though, please." Nodding in agreement, you grabbed one of your oversized leather jackets and went to the door. Soon, Hughie stopped you.

"Oh, and Y/N? Thank you."

"No problem, hun." And you headed out to find your stupid ass loverboy.

//////~~`×`~~//////

Heading into the bar, you looked at the clock that was placed next to the cups. The clock showed half past 11, and your view fell onto the slouched, buff figure that was Billy. Walking up to him, you tapped flicked his head lightly as a sign for him to wake up.

"Oiiii, yer lil cuntttt…" He sounded wasted more than he ever was. He used to drink a lot on work, one time he even wanted to dance with M.M., but the 17 glasses of whisky gave you a very bad impression on how he felt right now.

"Hi to you too, cunt ass." You lightly shook him with a small curl of your lips on your face showing.

"The fock do ya want, kid? Can't you see a man tryin' to enjoy himself?" His british accent came out even more unclear when he was intoxicated, which would be funny if he wasn't laying down on the table, alone in the pub. "Go get me another round, be useful for once, N/N." That was a new one, you never heard anyone from the team use a nickname on you.

"Absolutely not. Butcher, c'mon, get up, we're leaving." You tried to give him a hand, but he wouldn't budge.

"Where the hell we goin'?" He groggily asked.

"Im driving you to my home since I don't know your adress.Now Butch, please, cooperate."

Agreeing for once, he put his arm around your shoulders and hung onto you as he struggled to walk.

Walking to your car, you felt like you were walking sideways the whole time, probably because he was much bigger than you. "Lean onto the car, Butch, okay? I have to get my keys, then I'll help you get in the car." You felt the need to give him instructions and steps for everything, because after seeing him passed out on that table circled with whiskey shots, you felt more safe if you did that. Listening to your idea, he leaned on, and you quickly unlocked the car and opened his door. "Alright, hun, let's get you in." Your arm sneaked around his torso, guiding him to sit down into the passenger seat. He smiled lightly at the nickname. Buckling him up, you closed the door lightly and went into your seat, turning on the car and driving away.

//////~~`×`~~//////

Driving around the city, you realized Butcher was quietly snoring. Probably the most peaceful you've ever seen him.

Parking into your backyard garrage, you got out of your car and went to Billy's side, unbuckling him. "Hey, hun, wake up." You lightly gave him a slap on his right cheek, figuring it was a better idea than pouring a bucket of ice on him. Unfortunately, he was not a light sleeper. Giving up, you put your arms around him once more and somehow getting him out of the car, making him lean onto the vehicle for a moment while you locked it.

Swinging your arm once again, you went into your house and layed him down on the couch. By now, it was way past midnight and you came to the conclusion that he wont be waking up until the morning. You went into your bedroom, taking off your work clothes and dressing up into your pj's. Grabbing your phone for a sec to text Hughie that Butcher is in an okay condition, unfortunately you were stopped by Butcher's grunts from the living room.

Getting up and sighing, you realized how much your eyes were close to closing themselves and going off to sleep, how much your arms felt like you had a fist fight with someone and how much your legs burned, including your back that was almost folded in half by Butcher's weight while you carried him. You were tired, but you needed to keep the team in top shape. After all, you were their magnet, which also meant that you should be there for everyone, even Butcher. Even Butcher, who behaved like a bag of shit towards everyone. Knocking on the door side, you stepped in the living room, the floors creaking.

"Butcher, is everything alright?"

Your eyes headed towards his sleeping figure, but he didn't look like he was enjoying his resting time as he kept shivering and thrashing in several points of the night. You got the blanket at the table next to you, slowly putting it over him. The blanket used to provide you heat, but also comfort and a safe space. Maybe it would also work for him. Hopefully.

You wanted to bet that if Frenchie and M.M. were in the room with you right now, they'd probably take a bunch of pictures to make fun of you both. Thankfully, they weren't here, and you thought that Butcher might sometimes lack of rest. Climbing onto the couch, you lightly rose his head up and sat down, putting his head onto your lap and ruffling his hair. He was taller, so you didn't get a lot of opportunities to ruffle his hair at all. You didn't even know you wanted to do that, but you did either way.

Although he was a heavy sleeper, apparently he realized what you were doing. Still woozy from the alcohol and driving around, he barely recognized the place he was in when he woke up, but what he did see was your face. Along with the blanket that you gave him. Snuggling a bit closer to you, he pulled the blanket up closer to you so that you don't feel left out and he mumbled something.

"Didn't hear you, love… Mind trying to repeat it?" You spoke, removing a bit of his hair from his forehead, feeling that he was sweating a bit.

"Hnnnnhhh….y'know 'm nun' like 'im…" His drowsy voice was back, and even though you loved how calm he sounded, you started to get a bit worried. You didn't know the real reason why he was so uptight with everyone, not letting his guard down.

"Like who, love?"

"My fatherrrr…" You don't know his past. You shouldn't jump to conclusions. You only knew that he didn't like his father because Hughie told you that once when you went out for a coffee.

You face was forming a very sad look, trying to keep yourself at bay and not let a few tears drop down to his head. You have to stay strong for everyone. For you. For him.

"No… No, Billy, you're not. You will never be like him. You're better, darling, you know that yourself already." Stay strong. Keep yourself at bay.

"Yeh…yeh…y'know, those scars on my back, the ones you saw during the fight in Russia when you treated my wounds…" His voice didn't sound confused by the alcohol anymore, rather just sad, guilty and ashamed.

"Yeah, what about them love?"

"He did that to me. With a belt. Like I was a fuckin' animal. I tried to save him, Y/N, I-I really did." He was sniffling. If you weren't having the table lamp turned on, you'd think he has a pollen allergy.

This is where your façade started breaking down.

"Who, hun? Who did you try to save?"

"Lenny, my brother. He…" Butcher stopped, looking like he's having an internal fight with himself whether he should continue, because he's showing his vunerable side now. "He shot himself. Because of me." Tears started sliding down his cheeks, silent ones that have shown how much he has been through. How much he has been keeping the truth in for himself. How long he kept it from the public, knowing that if he was left alone his whole life he'd probably rot. The tears showed how much he hated himself for his actions, for leaving his younger brother unprotected, for not standing up to his father more often (even though he tried his best), how much he missed Becca, how much he regretted for leaving Ryan with Homelander, how much he hates looking vunerable. You, though? You didn't question any of his actions. You simply brushed away his tears and gave him a peck in his hair.

"I'm so sorry, love. I'm sorry that happened. Some things just make us stronger, but you were a child back then, you didn't deserve any of this. You didn't deserve to be treated like trash from your father. You didn't deserve Homelander suddenly flying fuck knows where with Ryan. Darling,"

You started, wiping another tear and smiling at him softly. He loved seeing your smile, whether it was a feisty one or a caring one, a silly one or a tired one. It made him feel… loved. "I believe in you. You are literally the strongest person I know. Not a monster. Not a killing machine. Not nothing. You are a person, just like the rest of us."

He sat back up from his sleeping position, only to lay his head down onto your shoulder. You've never seen him this affectionate, nobody probably ever has besides Becca. She was a nice woman, you remember Butcher showing pictures of her sometimes, it's a shame she had to die like that.

"Hey, Y/N." He looked at you.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for being a kind cunt."

"Back with your cuntiness, i see…" you chuckled, and he only closed his eyes again, deciding to fall into the slumber of sleep once again.

"Love ya', Y/N."

You swore you felt heat rise to your cheeks, hell if your blood wasn't all the way into your brain like you were hanging off of something.

"…Love you too, Billy."

His beard tickled the everloving shit of you, but you didn't have the guts to wake him up again. Not while he's getting something he hasn't had for a while, rest. Before joining him in the nap, you swung your arm across his shoulders, pulling him in closer. He seemed to like the action, scooting a bit closer to you.

 //////~~`×`~~//////

AAAA i hope you liked the fic!! i usually dont write a lot, but since the fandom needs more x reader fanfics (esp angst because im so good at it, haha slay), i've came in clutch! B)

 till next time!!

[imaginesbymonika]

It all tastes like poison.

Part 2.

Pairing: Homelander x fem!reader / Solider Boy x fem!reader

Plot: based on this request: “can you please write an imagine about someone who use to be with soldier boy before he "died» which left her broken, but she still worked with vought for years because she ages slower than normal and she meets homelander who she kinda falls for, but when ben comes back she gets mixed emotions till he tries to kill homelander and then she'll have to work with everyone else to get him back into the box, which she doesn't want to do. LIKE ANGST?”

warning: f-bombs, angst, mentions of character death, death, violence (man turned into slime)

Previous chapter

The love she felt for Soldier Boy was a ‘one-of-a-kind’ kind of love. One that she has been carrying around with her everywhere. Somehow she managed to never lose it. The memories of the way he used to hold her at night were enough to bring tears to Y/N‘s eyes whenever her mind went back to it.

Of course, she knows that he wasn’t a good person- fuck, not one single Supe could claim that they are.

"When she got created in their lab, something just went wrong.", Ben clarifies and Hughie instantly looks at Billy. "What are you talking about?"

“Y/N.”, he says:” I don't really know much about it… no one does. But I think they gave her the wrong amount of V. Way too much. And to be honest with you two, Y/N is the one you should be worried about.“ He leans back: “Like I said before… if Y/N had found out that they kept me in the USSR, good lord.“ Ben lets out a chuckle, one that shows that he’s almost proud: “You wouldn’t find Russia on any fucking map today.“

Y/N meanwhile stares at the ceiling. Ben was out there. Fuck. Her Ben was out there and fucking alive, while she was stuck with his cheap knockoff version. Thinking about it for longer than five fucking minutes made her want to throw up again.

"Hey!"

Black Noir, who is walking down the hallway turns around at the sudden sound of a voice calling out for him. However, as soon as he recognizes Y/N he tenses up. The woman makes her way towards him, and when she notices how he glances at the clock she lets out a sigh: “Yeah, I know it‘s late. But I just can’t sleep knowing that Ben is out there. I feel like the longer I stay here the crazier I get.”

But when she doesn’t receive any response from him, she tilts her head:” Don’t… you want to find him?” A suffocating silence falls upon the halls and Y/N stares at her long-time friend, only to see him shake his head a few moments later.

She awkwardly smiles at him and crosses her arms in front of her chest:” I don’t-. I don’t get it. It’s Ben. Our Ben, we are talking about here. He essentially came back from the dead and you’re telling me that you don’t want to know what happened?”

At the sincerity in her voice, Black Noir takes a step back. One that doesn’t go unnoticed. Y/N looks down at his legs and it doesn’t take her more than a second to comprehend what that implies. Her eyes move back up:”Wait what?” An uneasy chuckle escapes her lips:”I don’t get it. Do you know something that I don’t know?”

Black Noir doesn't answer, of course, he doesn't. But ever since his voice left him, his body language has taken over. Now, after a couple of decades of working together, he doesn't need to move much for Y/N to understand him.

She swallows thickly, while hot tears emerge in her eyes. “Did- did you have anything to do with his ‘death’?” Fuck, she silently prays that she’s wrong. He stares at her. “Don’t fuck with me!” Her view of the world turns blurry, but she can still catch the way he slowly nods. A few seconds later, he plunges to the floor. Dead. Turned into a puddle of slime.

"I'm giving her less than 24 hours." Billy turns his head to glance at Ben: "What did you just say?" "You heard me."

[amaratas]

The Divide - Series Blurb

TITLE: The Divide PAIRING(S): Hughie Campbell/OFC, Homelander/OFC Featured (Abusive relationship, not endgame) SERIES WARNING: Unplanned pregnancy, gaslighting, abusive relationship, references, allusions, and mentions of noncon/dubcon elements, violence, death, smut, fluff, angst, domestic violence, Homelander is his own warning but more in depth trigger warnings will be included at the beginning of EVERY chapter. OVERVIEW: Josie is stuck in a dangerous situation, caught between old ties and new mistakes, she hopes to bridge the gap of the divide and get herself to safety-- preferably before she ends up dead.

It started like some steamy romance novel. With the unrest caused by A-Train's manslaughter of Robin Ward, Anti-Supe sentiments have been at its peak for the first time in a long time. Josephine Owens never actually expected to be quite literally swept off her feet by Homelander himself. He was considerate, and funny, and made sure she was alright after neutralizing the threat in the middle of Times Square. He didn't have to do that, she thought. Following the excitement of being invited to Vought Tower for an interview at VNN, upon meeting him before shooting, she couldn't stop herself, offering to buy him lunch-- it was the least she could do after all. What she didn't expect was Homelander showing an interest in little old her, the artist, the student, the civilian. and it seemed to her that she may be the only one who truly saw him for him, not some figurehead puppet, playing nice for the public. She tries to keep her excitement from bubbling over in the wake of Robin's death, after all, reconnecting with her childhood friend Hughie following his girlfriend's death has Josie finding Hughie angry and distraught, deeply mourning the loss of his beloved partner. And it certainly doesn't help matters when Josie herself ups and vanishes, not long after making things "official" with her mysterious boyfriend "John". She quickly realizes that an unexpected surprise, though initially might have seemed like a blessing opens up an entire world of danger, death, and deceit, and if Josephine doesn't tread lightly, she may, quite literally, get caught in the crosshairs.

[scarlettwitcher]

Am I casually writing a self indulgent super long slow burn angsty HEA Butcher x Reader fan fic? Absolutely. Am I going to post it? I have no idea, but man, am I pouring my heart out on this one..

Also, hi, hello, I’ve been gone for a while, I’ve missed yall, and writing. Life has been absolutely little short of insane…

Anyways, if yall are interested, just casually let me know

[knucklescum]

Irredeemable - Hughie Campbell x fem!reader (The Boys)

Pairing: Hughie Campbell (The Boys) x fem!reader

Word Count: 3011

Warnings: Swearing (obviously), canon typical everything

You should have known that you were the last person Butcher would want to see right now, and yet you had made the decision to return to him, to the team. 

The Boys had been the closest thing you’d had to a family in a long time, even with their quirks and, well, their long running murderous rampage.

That was, until everything went to shit. Butcher had effectively exiled you from the team, sending you on your own solo mission several states away.

It wasn’t that you hated what you were doing, you just hated doing it on your own. Supe killing was a team effort, no easy feat for someone so completely alone. So when you caught wind of the team’s current predicament, you’d decided for yourself that it was time you made your return.

Maybe your sudden reappearance would serve as a well needed distraction from Becca’s death. Or maybe Butcher would do everything in his power to make you fuck off again.

The feeling of something heavy landing on your front pulled you from your sleep.

“Look what the fucking cat dragged in.”

You pushed your bag full of guns off your lap as your eyes fluttered open before sitting up on the sofa, suddenly aware of your surroundings.

You don’t even remember getting to the hideout, let alone crashing onto the couch in exhaustion.

“How long have you been back?” Butcher’s voice echoed in your ears again, a scowl on his face as you stared back up at him blankly. 

“I - uh,” you start, rubbing your forehead. “What time is it?”

Butcher turns his head in the direction of the rest of the team, keeping his eyes on you as he waits for someone to tell you the time.

“Four sixteen P.M,” an unknown voice reads out, your eyes moving to find the source.

“Who-,” you barely get the word out before Butcher interrupts you.

“Four sixteen P.M,” Butcher repeats, turning his head back to you. “Now fuck off.”

Butcher begins to storm away as you jump up from the sofa. You move quickly to catch up with him, ignoring all of the eyes on you as you grab hold of his coat sleeve in desperation.

“I need to talk to you, Butcher,” you say, your voice almost a whisper.

“I don’t want to talk to you, love,” he whispers back.

“Please, Butcher. I, fuck,” you breathe, dropping his sleeve. “I killed him.”

“You-” Butcher starts, cutting himself off in shock. “You killed him. Him?”

“Him,” you repeat.

Butcher does nothing but stare at you for several seconds before bringing a hand to your shoulder.

“Welcome back,” he grins.

All you can do is smile back at Butcher as he removes his hand from your shoulder before quickly turning away, getting back to whatever it was that he was doing in the first place.

You feel the weight leaving your chest and your whole body relaxing as you turn back, facing the rest of the team.

Your smile only grows as your eyes meet Frenchie’s, the man instantly striding over and taking you into his arms.

“Mon ami, I missed you!” he exclaims, excitedly jumping you up and down in his embrace.

As Frenchie returns your feet to the ground, you look up at M.M, continuing to grin as he nods at you.

“You guys have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” you sigh.

“It’s good to see you again, (y/n),” M.M nods. “Although, I’m sure you can see, things have kind of changed around here since you’ve been gone.”

He tilts his head to the side, your eyes following to see the two newest members of the team.

“This is Kimiko,” Frenchie beams, putting an arm over her shoulder. The dark haired girl gives you a sweet smile as she waves at you. You wave back before focusing on the lanky man beside her.

“Hi,” he says, his voice slightly worried. 

“Hey,” you say, holding out your hand for him to shake. “I’m (y/n).”

“Hughie. I’m the one who told you the time,” he laughs nervously, his hand slightly clammy in yours. “I don’t know why I just said that, I’m sorry,” he says, shaking his head as his face cringes.

“I appreciate it, Hughie.”

It doesn’t take long for you to settle right back into the team with the six of you each perched in the living room area of the hideout, both recounting stories and bringing each other up to speed with any new information.

You aren’t so happy to hear that your room has become Hughie’s, but you take the opportunity to tell him about all of your previous endeavours in that very room, on his bed.

“She’s teasing you, Hughie,” M.M laughs “She never had that many guys over.”

“Oh she did!” Frenchie says. “I could hear her every fucking night,” he nods his head, nudging his elbow into your side.

You give Frenchie a swift slap on the arm before mouthing a ‘sorry’ to Hughie, a disgusted look on his face.

“Right,” Butcher says, slapping his hands to his knees before getting up from the sofa. “I’m off to bed. Big fucking day tomorrow.”

He gives Hughie a heavy pat on the back before leaving the room, his door slamming shut behind him.

One by one, the rest of the team bid each other goodnight until you’re left alone with Hughie. He’s stood awkwardly in front of the T.V., his arms pressed to his sides as you rub your eyes with the back of your hands.

“I, um,” he starts. “I’m sorry for taking your room. I just-,”

“You didn’t know, Hughie,” you say, a tired smile on your face. “It’s your room.”

He nods, his face relaxing before he immediately tenses up again.

“But where are you going to sleep?”

“Here seems fine!” you say, swinging your legs up onto the sofa and resting your head on the arm of the couch.

He looks at you in disbelief as you shoot him an assuring smile.

“Are you sure? I just feel really bad,” he says, holding a hand to his cheek.

“I’m sure,” you sigh. “Now get to bed.”

A gentle laugh escapes him as you shoo him off with your hands, finally giving in.

“Fine, fine. But at least let me bring you a blanket?”

“Oh wow, uh,” you can’t hide your shock at his kindness.

He’s definitely in the wrong business.

“I’ll be right back,” he smiles.

----------------------

You wake up curled up on the sofa, tucked under a fleece blanket. The smell of cheap, herbal body spray and a tinge of sweat fills your nostrils.

There's a faint sound of life from across the room, shuffling and clattering around. You sit up, feeling oddly refreshed despite your awkward sleeping arrangement.

“What time do you call this, love?” Butcher’s voice calls out. “Never knew you to sleep in.”

“Fuck off,” you grunt, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you peel yourself up from the sofa.

“Ever the charmer,” he says, throwing a tea towel in your direction. “Make yourself useful and help Frenchie with breakfast.”

“Yes, boss,” you laugh, making your way towards the two men.

After a short while, breakfast is ready (Frenchie is very proud of his “French(ie) toast) and the rest of the gang join you in the large, communal room.

You shoot Hughie a smile as he walks towards the sofa, earning a polite nod in response. Quickly, you turn back to the “kitchen” countertop, eager to serve up this morning’s meal.

“So,” you start, gently piling a couple of slices of toast onto each plate. “What’s the plan for today?”

Butcher only laughs, lowly, in response as he shakes his head. 

Both M.M and Hughie shoot Butcher a look of confusion, to which he just shrugs.

“You can do -” he cuts himself off, taking a bit of his toast. “Whatever you want,” he mumbles.

You furrow your brows, averting your gaze to the rest of the team in a desperate attempt to get some sort of answer.

Catching Hughie’s eyes, he shuffles in his seat before turning to face Butcher.

“I’ve - uhh - I’ve got some errands to run. (y/n) could -” he turns back to you. “You could join me today? I could use the company,” he shrugs.

“Sure,” you smile, catching Frenchie smirking to himself in your peripheral vision. “Errands sound good.”

------------------

Over the course of the morning, everyone splits into their decided pairs for the day: Butcher and M.M head out first to make a start on something or other a few miles away, Frenchie and Kimiko to gather intel on a particular set of Vought owned buildings and you and Hughie to… go shopping?

The two of you wander into town in comfortable conversation, stopping in a few different shops along the way.

“I’m sorry, I have to ask,” you start. “How the actual fuck did someone as, well, as good as you end up working with Butcher?”

“Oh man,” Hughie lets out a breathy chuckle, his grip on the carrier bag growing tighter. “My girlfriend, uhh - fuck. A-Train killed my girlfriend.”

“Shit, I’m so sorry, Hughie. I shouldn’t have asked,” you say, stopping in the street in embarrassment. 

Hughie lets out a soft breath, shaking his head. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it.” 

He tilts his head for you to continue walking, “Come on.”

The two of you walk in silence before you speak up again.

“What was she like?”

“Hmm?” Hughie stops.

“Your girlfriend. What was she like?” you repeat.

Unexpectedly, Hughie proceeds to tell you about his late girlfriend, who you now know as Robin, in great detail; the two of you go through what could only be described as an emotional rollercoaster as he tells you all about her personality, her passions - everything.

“I’m sorry,” he interrupts himself. “I didn’t mean to, you know, fuck,” he shakes his head. “No one’s ever asked me that before.”

“Come on,” you smile, holding your arm out for him to follow you. “Let’s go sit down somewhere.”

Wordlessly, Hughie follows behind you until you arrive at the park. The two of you sit beside each other on one of the many benches overlooking the city.

He turns his head towards you, looking at you as if he’s asking for permission to speak. You gently nod in response.

“I, um. I guess I just feel kinda guilty about everything. Just, yeah, everything. After Robin, I met the guys, you know, and they’ve helped me. They’re a good distraction to all of the bullshit, which is kind of ironic seeing as, you know, thanks to them I’m deep in the bullshit. And then of course there’s Annie,” he pauses with a shaky breath. “There was Annie. She made me feel so much better about everything, which in turn only made me feel worse. Annie is a supe, you know? And a supe killed my girlfriend. So, there were times where it kind of felt like I was betraying Robin by being with the thing that killed her.”

“Hughie,” you say, your voice gentle. “You have nothing to feel bad about. Whatever happened, whatever you’ve done is nothing in the grand scheme of things.”

Hughie nods, softly at first before gradually becoming more confident. 

“Me and Annie, we, uh, we’re not a thing anymore.”

“Oh?” you pry.

“It’s complicated,” he shrugs. “But now Butcher is pissed. He was sort of hoping that my relationship with Annie would get us closer to Vought, you know, use her a little bit. But now that things have fallen apart, I think Butcher feels like I’ve wasted my one chance to be a useful member of the team.”

“Listen, Hughie,” you shake your head. “Butcher has kicked off about far less in the past. If he wanted you off the team, you’d be gone by now. Trust me.”

Hughie shifts on the bench, turning his body to face you, careful to keep his knee from brushing against your leg.

“I’m sorry, (y/n)” he says, shaking his head slightly as he furrows his brow. “I should have asked this before but, uh, what happened with you and Butcher, exactly?”

You can’t help the dry laugh that escapes your lips, throwing your head back.

“Where do I even start?” you laugh.

Hughie lets out a small chuckle with you, though he can’t disguise the fact that he is desperate to know what went down. Catching his eye, you give in.

“I was seeing this guy, Adam, when I first met Butcher. God, this was years ago now,” you laugh. “We were kind of on and off, he was all over the place, mentally, I mean. I loved him though. Like, love of my life, kind of love. I was ready to put up with all of his shit, all of his disappearing, everything,” you say, forcing out a chuckle to stop yourself from crying.

Hughie nods, lifting his arm awkwardly in an attempt to comfort you before placing his hand back on his lap.

“To save some time I’ll just cut to the actually interesting part. Adam was a supe.”

Hughie stares at you in disbelief. You shrug your shoulders in response.

“I find it so hard to believe that you of all people dated a supe. Did you know he was a supe when yo-”

“No,” you cut him off. “I had no idea he was a supe. Neither did Butcher. Adam wasn’t one of the A-listers, but he did have a pretty impressive power. He was some kind of telepath,” you shrug. “He could put thoughts into your brain, and remove your thoughts as he pleased. Hence why we never suspected him.

“Anyway, Butcher did eventually find out the truth about Adam, and he tried so hard to get through to me but whatever Adam put in my brain made that impossible. It got to a point where I didn’t trust Butcher at all, I never knew why, and I think Butcher got fed up.”

Hughie remained still in his seat as you spoke, watching your face morph from expression to expression as you told your story.

“So Butcher just… kicked you out?” Hughie said. “ I can’t believe he would just give up on you like that, especially after everything he’s done for me.”

You offer Hughie a soft smile in response, shaking your head gently.

“Butcher didn’t outright kick me out, although I’d understand if he had done. Adam actually proposed to me.”

The shocked expression returned to Hughie’s face, his eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Adam wanted to move to Vegas so, obviously, I dropped everything to follow him there. I told Butcher that I was leaving the team to be with Adam. I didn’t mean it, of course, I was just so in love, so under Adam’s spell that I would do and say anything to make him happy. Butcher didn’t like that, obviously, so he effectively banished me. ‘ Said if he ever saw me again, he’d kill me.”

Hughie turns in his seat, hunched over with his head in his hands as he takes in every word of what you had just said.

“Butcher just let you leave?” He asks, a tinge of sadness in his voice. “He seriously made no attempt to stop you?”

“I guess he-”

“It wouldn’t have mattered if he had tried to stop you,” he interrupts you. “You were under Adam’s mind control.”

“Exactly,” you nod. “After a good couple of months in Vegas, something snapped in me. Adam couldn’t control me anymore. And - please don’t tell Butcher this,”

“I won’t,” Hughie interjects, edging closer towards you.

“When I first, I don’t know, woke up? Is that the right word?”

“Woke up works,” Hughie shrugs.

“Okay,” you laugh. “When I finally woke up, I was so, so mad at Butcher. I blamed him for a while for not protecting me, for giving up on me. But I know in reality,” you sigh, “there was nothing that he could have done.”

“I imagine it took you a long time to come to terms with that,” Hughie says, his voice quieter than before as he ducks his head even further towards you.

“Yeah,” you nod. “I only really came to terms with it when I snapped. I actually stayed with Adam for a couple of days after I woke up, trying to think of the best escape plan. I spent two days pretending that I was still under his control before I couldn’t handle it anymore. I killed him.”

The two of you sit in silence for a while after that, both staring into the distance, past the view of the city and towards the pale late morning sky.

“Why didn’t you come back sooner?” Hughie asks, his voice cutting through the quiet. 

“I, god, Hughie, I’ve never thought about that,” you laugh, dryly. “I guess -”

“You don’t need to have an answer, (y/n),” he smiles. 

You can’t help but smile back at him as you think more on his question.

“I actually stayed in Vegas to kill supes. The whole city is a goldmine for washed up supes so it was good practice for whenever I chose to return.”

“Do you think maybe, no. I shouldn’t say it,” Hughie interrupts himself.

“No, no, Hughie. Please say it,” you say, practically begging Hughie for an answer to his question that is sure to plague you otherwise.

“Maybe,” he sighs, pulling himself up from the bench, standing before you. “Maybe you were trying to prove to yourself that you were still a supe hunter? That Butcher would still want you on the team after everything?”

You had no words. Hughie was right, of course he was. But what could you possibly say in response to that information?

You remain seated in silence for a little while longer before finally deciding to stand beside Hughie.

“Come on,” he says, his voice soft. “We should be heading back.”

A/N let me know if you want a part two to this!

[thjstorm]

something that isn't quite talked about and that i personally think it is is underrated from Butcher's lore is Lenny. i've always been a sucker for a sibling dynamic cause hey! i also have a younger sibling whom i love to death, so when that was revealed i was absolutely shattered. what's more bitter about it, however, is the fact that he manages to find someone just like him; he sees his little brother in that person, and he promises that he won't let that happen again but the narrative is already doomed. it's bound to happen anyways. even if he tries to deny it.

[fabella-aka-wistfulfever]

Go ahead. Make him your everything. Ruin him. The complex situationship between Butcher and Hughie of The Boys. Seasons 1-3. The usual warnings for brief nudity, canon typical violence, and unhealthy relationships. Butcher x Hughie (Butchie) as well as canonical entanglements.

A deliberate association game with the lyrics, toying with the usually explored context of the song, flipping them and sometimes intentionally agreeing with them. Viewer experience may vary and I welcome it.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Lavender

Summary : During a photo shoot for your hero carriages you get a message from Butcher that your friend Hughie is having a panic attack and they can't repent him. Immediately you come to him and have a calm, caring moment together with your boyfriend.

warning : fluff, hurt/comfort, healthy relationship, calming down, angst, hurt, comfort

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She was in the middle of a photo shoot, the camera clicking and the photographer's constant instructions annoying her. Stupid ad agency she thought, holding the Parfun in the pink bottle closer to the camera.

She smiled her best smile and spunned around in her way too skimpy costume that couldn't show any more skin without making it look like a photo shoot for Only Fans. ,,All right, five minute break!" she heard Ashley call as she seemed to see the superheroine's expression grow more and more annoyed. ,,Thanks Ashley" she mumbled and threw the perfume almost carelessly into one of the art plants knowing it wasn't broken before disappearing into her room.

She sighed as she sat down on the chair in front of the large illuminated mirror.

Watching her hair sticking with glitter and hairspray, the green pink leather outfit with the fake flowers seeming to stick to her body. I hate it she thought and would have liked to get out of the clothes immediately.

But a glance at her phone and the spear screen of the man she loved let her know why she was doing this.

She was doing it for her friends, for what she wanted to stand for. She did it to bring Homelander down. To finally ask for justice.

She was about to reach for a bottle of water when suddenly her mobile phone made a pling sound. Curious, she reached for it, fearing it was some creepy fans who had sent her another dick pic.

But when she saw a message from Butcher she almost got serious. When she thought it was just a new report, something she had missed during the photo shoot.

It quickly turned into something that worried her. Hughie seemed to be having a panic attack and not calming down.

She didn't even answer, instead a buzz went through the air as a huge flower appeared in the middle of the secret hiding place. A sweet smell spread into the place before grass even grew under the flower.

Out of the bud came the superheroine with the planting skills. ,,Oi, I hope that goes away," she heard Butcher's sarcastic words, but she only looked at him demandingly before he pointed further down the corridor. ,,He hasn't been this bad in a long time," MM said, coming out of the room and shaking his head.

She nodded slightly, giving him a thankful look before knocking carefully on the door. ,,Hughie?" she asked quietly, listening into the room. She heard the crying, the sobbing and the whimpering.

Her heart contracted at the sound, it seemed to hurt her just as much to hear him like that.

She opened the door and went inside before slowly closing the door and seeing him.

The brown-haired man had retreated to the large bed, moved to the head end and rested his head on his drawn knees.

Every now and then he seemed to tremble slightly while muttering something to himself. It pained her to see him like this. To see him so afraid, so sad. ,,Hughie...it's me" she said slowly before slowly coming closer to the bed.

But she didn't sit down, she didn't want to overtax him, only irritate him more. ,,May I?" she asked, pointing to the bed. She saw him continue to cry before he lifted his head and nodded slightly.

She thanked him and sat down on the edge of the bed, her fingers running a little over the soft blanket. ,,Do...you want to talk about it?" she asked after a few moments in which he seemed to have calmed down at least a little. At least the trembling had gone from him.

Something that calmed her heart slightly, but the worry inside her had not gone away. It had become quiet, no one had said a word, only the rapid heavy breathing of Hughie could be heard.

The others who were either listening outside or doing something else seemed quiet too.

At least they understand, she thought, grateful to her friends and allies for giving Hughie peace. ,,N-No," came brittlely from his lips, but a moment later he put a hand on the bed beside him.

She saw the light tap of his finger on the soft mattress and knew he was telling her he was ready for her to come closer. That he was reasonably comfortable with her coming closer.

Despite the fact that they had been together for several months, they still lived in almost two different worlds. She superheroine, advertising face of perfume, makeup and countless flower shops.

And Hughie, Hughie was her adorable, sweet, helpful and maybe a little scared boyfriend.

Despite this, they lived for the same thing. To destroy the seven and defeat Homelander. It was not only a physical but also a mental strain.

Slowly she came closer to him and sat down next to him, watching him carefully to see what was getting him down. ,,Here, maybe this will help," she said after a moment and put her hand behind her on the wall of the room.

Her eyes lit up bright green for a moment before a small meadow spread out over the walls of the room before several flowers and bushes and small shrubs grew.

Instantly there was a sweet smell of the flowers and the room had a relaxed atmosphere.

Before she used her power to make lavender grow alongside the flowers. Maybe it has the same effect, she thought, remembering the many nights when neither of them could sleep properly.

Which is why she had grown lavender around their bed and they always fell asleep well and quickly. Before she saw the brown-haired man lift his head and wipe away a few tears.

His eyes ran over the many colourful flowers and she saw his tears actually stop. ,,This is pretty," he murmured and stretched out his legs, seeming to open slowly before giving her a small sad smile. ,,Yes...it is," she replied softly and slowly reached her arm out to him.

Stroked his shoulder gently and slowly, feeling his tension underneath. His eyes continued to watch the many flowers and the lavender seemed to do its natural work. ,,May I?" he asked slowly, pointing to her shoot.

At first she didn't quite understand what he wanted, but when she realised what he had in mind she nodded. ,,Of course Hughie come here," she calmly hummed and slapped her thighs.

Slowly the older man lay down with his head on her lap, pulling his legs up in an almost fetolane position. Her hands found their way into his hair, tracing the light strands, following his light curls.

She felt him slowly relax and his nervousness disappear. ,,It...was just too much today...too much...blood and too much pressure" he finally mumbled and she feared he would start crying again.

Which is why she made a small tendril with a flick of her wrist and covered him lightly with the blanket. ,,It's okay...it's over Hughie, I'm here with you. You're safe, I'll stay with you and I'm so proud of you," she said and continued to stroke his hair, hearing him sigh and his words lose their sad effect.

He gratefully pulled the blanket around him and was grateful for the place he had chosen. ,,Just relax...no stress, you've done so much today. We'll just stay here" she suggested feeling him nod slightly, smile slightly and mumble a ,,Thank you very much".

They lingered like this for a few moments until she took her free hand and made a small lavender flower. Holding it in front of his hands, she watched him open his eyes and accept it gratefully.

It seemed to finally give him the reassurance he needed. ,,I...love you for that," she heard him say and she felt the loving smile creep onto her lips before she stroked his head again. ,,I love you too Hughie...everything about you" she replied and turned off the light in the room with a flower.

Waited until Hughie's breathing became calmer and more regular before he fell asleep.

Before she allowed herself to fall asleep too, with Hughie still by her side, not leaving him as she had promised.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[then-be-a-warrior]

I just want Homelander to fatally wound Hughie in front of every member of The Boys.

[spacediddly]

The thoughts I am having about Butchie and villain arch Hughie based on The Chain by Fleetwood Mac

[nonbinary-cupid]

Every now and then I remember what butcher’s aunt said about how Lenny calmed butcher down when he absolutely lost it when lenny got hurt and I just

I need a scene like that with hughie and butcher AND I NEED IT TO BE ANGSTY AS HELL

GIVE ME THE SCENE I WANT