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zepskies · 5 months ago

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Lost on You - Part 1

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader

Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.

AN: Welcome to Part 1! You guys have really warmed by heart with all the anticipation for this series, so thank you so much. I think it's going to be a fun ride. 😉

Song Inspo: “Magic” by Olivia Newton-John. And check out the full “Lost on You Playlist” here. There’s going to be lots of ‘80s music in this series!

Word Count: 4K

Tags/Warnings: SB being an entitled asshole (strap in for a lot of that), misogyny, bullying, and a “meet cute” of sorts…

🎙️ Series Masterlist || YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist

Part 1: Siren Song

April 3, 1983

“Why the fuck wasn’t I consulted about this?” Soldier Boy groused.

Arthur Cohen, otherwise known as “The Legend,” released a heavy puff of his cigar within the relative privacy of his office. Vought afforded him a great deal of luxuries, at the cost of days like this.

So, he’d offered the supe one of his most coveted Cubans to pacify him. Because true to form, he was edging closer to a temper tantrum by the minute.

“This decision came from on high, my friend,” Arthur said, with a smile that hid his inner anxiousness. He tapped some ash off his cigar with a finger adorned by a gaudy gold ring. “Stan Edgar, Stillwell, even the entire board of directors signed off on this one.”

“I don’t give a fuck who bought into this PR bullshit,” Soldier Boy postured, crossing his arms across his dark green supe suit as he leaned into the plush seat adjacent to Arthur’s desk. He raised a solid boot on the edge of the newly polished mahogany, and then another, crossing them at the ankles. His cigar was balanced between his teeth in the corner of his mouth.

“The last thing we need,” he said, pausing to inhale. Then he took the cigar from his lips to blow out smoke in hot annoyance. “Is another broad on the team.”

Arthur inclined his head. “I understand your concerns.”

“Do you?” Soldier Boy snorted. “Countess is bitch enough to deal with, believe you me.”

Arthur sympathized. He knew Crimson Countess’s attitude well, but he supposed Soldier Boy had license to say so more than anyone else, considering she was his girlfriend.

“Look, I could give you the numbers: expected profit margins, demographics, etcetera, but you don’t get paid to hear that from me,” Arthur said, with a magnanimous hand gesture and a fair bit of old Jewish charm. “I’m askin’ you to trust me. This girl’s good, okay? Not just a wig and a pair a’ tits. Nah, she’s got talent. Got a set of pipes on her too, my God.”

Soldier Boy gave him a sly look.

“Not like that,” Arthur said. He shook his head in amusement, but not with the face of a man who hadn’t already thought about the girl’s pretty mouth. He stroked his chin.

“She’s…interesting. Well, you’ll see. If she brings up the ratings the way we hope, we’ll be able to relocate Swatto. Hopefully to Siberia. He’s a fucking PR nightmare waiting to happen.”

“All right, the guy’s a moron, but he’s fucking hilarious,” Soldier Boy said, smirking. “Like one of the three Stooges.”

Yeah. Arthur wondered if that homeless man Swatto almost split open in Central Park after a sneeze thought he was funny.

“And her powers. Really?” Soldier Boy went on. His brows drew together then, as he frowned. “Sounds like she blew something up someone’s ass to get this far, and it ain’t smoke.”

“Trust me, that’s the real deal too,” Arthur assured.

But he could see that Soldier Boy wasn’t convinced. The supe rolled his eyes and released another puff.

“Anyway. I’m fucking bored. What’s the next project?” he said. Arthur took an unfiltered breath and peeked at the files strewn across his desk.

“Well, Red Thunder is coming out this fall. We’re pretty sure it’s gonna be the blockbuster of the year,” he replied. “After that, we’ll see about writing a sequel.”

If it makes back the millions we spent in production going over budget, thanks to this asshole’s weekly benders, he mentally added.

“I don’t care about a bullshit sequel,” Soldier Boy said dismissively. “I want to do something new.”

“Something new,” Arthur intoned.

The supe raised a brow. Again, the cigar was balanced between his teeth.

“Yeah.”

He really must be bored, Arthur thought, if he actually wants to work.

“All right, let me brainstorm on that for ya,” Arthur said. “Matter of fact, tell you what. Give me ‘til the end of the week. In the meantime, we’ve got the security team monitoring the police scanner for potential saves.”

The supe didn’t look impressed. His brows furrowed, as if he was irritated that he didn’t get an immediate answer, but his slight nod signaled his agreement before he finally got up from his chair. His boots dragged off Arthur’s desk, knocking over a framed picture of his kids with it, and thudded heavily on the ground. He left the office thereafter.

Arthur heaved a breath of exasperation. He didn’t get paid enough for this shit.

Fucking supes.

But he didn’t dare utter that thought out loud.

It was days before Ben finally crossed paths with the new girl. Not that he’d been giving the idea much thought.

After that day in Arthur’s office, Ben became engrossed in his own devices—namely one of the assistants, Joanna, his stylist, Angela, and Rachel, his maid, after Donna blew him off for dinner for the third night in a row. This time for some tree-hugging conservationist gala of some kind.

Frigid bitch, he thought, shaking his head.

On his way to the gym, he passed the T&T Twins gossiping. Just the sight of them irritated him. Tommy was a kiss-ass, and Tessa shared a brain cell with her brother, so she wasn’t saying much for her gender either.

“Would you pick your tongue off the floor already! You’re so disgusting,” Tessa said, shoving her brother.

“What? She’s fucking hot,” Tommy snapped in defense. When they finally saw Ben coming, Tessa piped down with her attempt at a “demure” greeting.

Tommy came in hot with a too bright voice and a, “Hey, boss!”

Ben gave them a stoic nod, fully intending to blow past them.

“Have you met the new girl yet?” Tommy asked, with an unmistakable pop of his brows and indecent smile.

Ben nearly rolled his eyes. “No.”

And don’t fucking care, his tone conveyed. He continued on his way to the gym. Behind him, the twins gave each other a look, and a shrug.

When he got to the gym, Journey was playing overhead. Ben frowned as he saw Black Noir working out by himself. The young man wasn’t wearing his suit. Instead, he was bare-chested and running on a treadmill with a nearly 90-degree incline, sweat glistening on his skin.

Fucking show off, Ben thought.

Then there was Gunpowder, his young sidekick, practicing his archery. Ben went to him and slapped a hand on his back in greeting, none too gently. The teen stumbled, his arrow landing into the wall instead of the target.

“Spot me at the bench, ey kid,” said Ben. “And grab me a towel while you’re at it.”

“Uh, sure,” Gunpowder replied, ducking his head as he went. Ben got settled at his usual bench press machine, sliding his back down the thin leather cushion. He waited for the kid to add on his fifty-pound weights on either side, until it reached two hundred pounds. That was just the warm-up.

“You met the new girl yet?” Ben asked, after he began lifting his first rep. Gunpowder stood behind his head.

“No, sir,” he said. “Haven’t seen her yet.”

“I haven’t either,” said Noir. He’d come over on his way to the showers, regaining his breath all the while. Ben gave him a sharp side-eye.

“Did I fucking ask you?” he said.

Noir paused. He hid his frown behind a stoic front, since he didn’t have his mask to do it for him. He toweled off his face and chest as he left the gym.

Ben shook his head, but he never broke stride on the bench press.

You seemed to be mysterious.

Barely anyone had seen you, and you hadn’t gone out of your way to ingratiate yourself with every member of the team, like Ben would’ve expected. Donna had set him in her sights on her very first day.

With fake demure in her hazel eyes, a flick of her long red hair over her shoulder, and a sultry smile, she’d let him take her hand and bring it up to his lips for a gentlemanly kiss.

That same night, she’d accepted his invitation up to his suite and let him do some very ungentlemanly things. Ben smirked at the memory as he made his way down Vought Tower’s infinite hallways. She sure knew her way around some kinky shit.

And she still did, the little minx. She’d just been putting the freeze on his balls lately, for whatever her reasons were this time. He didn’t pretend to care or keep track at this point.

If people only knew what a royal pain Crimson Countess was.

Ben was only taken out of his thoughts when he heard someone singing in the breakroom, gently, but beautifully. He couldn’t make out the words though. He stopped and leaned inside the doorway, just to see who it was. It was early enough in the morning that he was surprised anyone but him was awake.

You were standing there at the counter, making some coffee from the percolator. Soft and dulcet notes fell from your lips in some kind of lullaby. Quirking a brow, the oddness of it managed to draw Ben’s steps into the kitchen. You were wearing a leather supe suit that molded to your every curve, not unlike Donna’s, except yours was black with violet trim lines.

You eventually noticed him with a smile.

“Good morning, sir.”

Ben gave you a charming grin, blatantly eying you from breast to toe before he noted that the coffee had finished percolating.

"Hey there, sweetheart,” he said. “Pour me a cup, would ya?"

You did so, and he admired the graceful movements of your hands, and the sweet sound of your voice as you continue to hum to yourself.

"You're a little crooner, aren't you?" he asked, taking the plain white coffee mug from you.

When your hand brushed his, he felt it.

Your power.

It threatened to overtake him, drawing you into him like the crash and current of a tidal wave, where he couldn’t help but be pulled undertow. There in that darkness, he craved your warmth as well as your body. The thought, the need gripped him at his core…

He wanted you to devour him, body and soul.

And he finally registered that your eyes were glowing violet, along with your knowing smile.

Then you blinked. The violet haze was gone, along with your hold on his mind.

You went back to sipping your coffee as if nothing had just happened. Ben faltered, mentally and physically as he was forced to grip the counter. He even had to catch his breath as his mind reeled from the loss of connection.

He covered his unbalance with a steely, angry frown. What the fuck just fucking happened?

He looked at you harder than before, drawing himself to his full height and towering over you. Still, you didn’t seem all that intimidated.

“What the hell did you just do?” he growled.

Your knowing, easy smile remained.

“Nothing,” you replied. “Just a little smoke.”

Ben’s eyes widened.

“Sounds like she blew something up someone’s ass to get this far, and it ain’t smoke.”

How the hell had you heard about that?

He quirked a brow, but you just sipped your coffee with a gentle slurp. Your gaze moved away from him as you went to the fridge to take out a carton of eggs.

“Want some breakfast? I’m thinking of making some eggs, sunny side up,” you said.

Ben’s hand clenched at his side, but then, he forced himself to relax. Or at least, to look relaxed. You had some fucking audacity to try toying with him…but he had to admit, you were something new.

Interesting.

“What’s your name?” he asked, in a tone that demanded.

“Sirena,” you answered. Your superhero name, which he’d already known when Stan Edgar told him about you a week ago.

Ben’s frown deepened, but he reminded himself to retain some charm. He took your chin between his fingers. His grip was light, but his green eyes were intense, and focused on you.

“No. Your real name, sweetheart,” he said, brushing your cheek with his thumb.

You blinked, but you obliged him with your name, and a smile that edged at flirtation.

“What’s yours?” you returned.

He had to smirk. He knew you knew full well who he was.

“Call me Ben,” he said.

Three Days Ago…

You tried not to be completely overwhelmed by the sight of this huge tower as you pulled your suitcase behind you. Vought-American was an institution of superhero production, and Payback was the face of it all. The absolute pinnacle.

I still can’t believe they chose me, you thought, but you tried not to let that show. You needed to make it seem like you knew what you were doing. You belonged here, and you were seizing this chance.

Madelyn Stillwell, the head of Superhero Public Relations, personally greeted you at the gate and showed you up to your room. However, you’d barely gotten a chance to step inside and look around before her pager went off. She wore a certain smile when she saw the number on the screen. She tossed a strand of strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder and glanced up at you.

“Sorry, sweetie. I have an appointment to get to, but the directory is there on your desk if you need anything. Feel free to get comfortable,” she said, gesturing at you with her pager in hand. “I’ll be back in an hour or so to give you a tour of the building.”

“Okay, thank you so—”

The door closed behind her before you could even finish your sentence. That deflated you a little, but you tried not to let that small exchange bring you down. Your apartment was huge. Or at least, it was much bigger than the shoebox you left in the Village, let alone the Brooklyn brownstone you grew up in, sharing with two other families on each floor.

You hefted your suitcase onto the bed and began to unpack your clothes, makeup, and toiletries.

You also took out the only framed picture you had—one that housed your parents and your older brother Chris. You were both grown already, but in this picture, you were barely twelve years old. That little girl didn’t know that her entire world was about to change, when her powers manifested for the first time.

That thought did succeed in dimming your mood for a moment, but you sighed and set the frame down on your new dresser. You’d have to remember to call Chris. His son was turning four years old in a few weeks.

Though your attention shifted to a black shape in the corner of your eye. It was a garment bag hanging on the closet door. You went over and unzipped it, revealing your new super suit. It was all black leather and violet accent lines down the sides, along the collar, and down between the breasts in a V-shape. It was strategic to accentuate curves and bust.

You whistled lowly. It was beautiful, but Jesus did it look tight.

“Wow,” you remarked, trying out the zipper up and down. “They really like their leather, huh?”

Still, you itched to try it on. After a few minutes of struggling and wiggling, you managed to get into the suit. They’d taken exact measurements, so it did look good. You felt like a new person…a superhero.

You smiled at yourself in the bathroom mirror. But then, you forced the smile off your face and shook your head, schooling your expression into something less doe-eyed and pathetic. More in control.

There you are, Sirena, you thought. You had long ago trained yourself with that enigmatic look. You knew how it felt on your face. The easiest way for you to get what you wanted in this world, the way you’d gotten this far, was with this exact face.

Only show them what you want them to see.

Almost two hours later, you’d finished unpacking your belongings and explored every corner of your new beautiful apartment, but still, Miss Stillwell wasn’t back yet.

You checked your watch and hummed to yourself. Your curiosity getting the best of you, you decided to leave your apartment and explore the tower by yourself. You took off the suit as well, so you could make your way around more anonymously. You were sure no one really knew who you were yet.

Your theory was proven true when you walked through the halls, passing Vought employees without even a blink in your direction. That was okay though. Soon enough, all these people would know your face, as well as your name.

You reached one of the top floors, where you thought you remembered The Legend’s office was supposed to be (according to the directory). Maybe you could meet him and get a jump start on your schedule.

You stopped short, however, when an office door slid open. Out came a slightly disheveled Miss Stillwell. Her blouse was hastily tucked into her gray pencil skirt, and strands of her blonde hair were a bit frizzy as they brushed her shoulders, as if she’d combed them down with her fingers. You plastered yourself to a wall around the corner, only peeking around after she passed by.

Your brows popped up incredulously when you read the name plate beside the door she just came out of.

Stan Edgar…holy shit. His signature was on my contract!

Along with Arthur Cohen, or The Legend, as Stillwell had told you when she welcomed you in. He was the Senior Vice President of Hero Management, so who the hell was Stan?

Well, whoever he was, he was giving it to the head of PR.

Okay then. You shook your head and continued on your way. At the end of the hall, you finally found the right office. You were about to open the door, when you heard male voices coming from inside—one older and dry, and the other deep and strong.

You reached out with your awareness and allowed your powers to engage, likely making your eyes glow with a violet hue.

Sure enough, you sensed two men in the room. And as the voices raised, you recognized one of them. It was unmistakable; you’d been taking the time to binge all of his movies for the past month, ever since you auditioned to get into Payback.

Soldier Boy.

A smile spread across your face. For a moment, you were incredibly excited…until you actually heard what he was saying.

“The last thing we need is another broad on the team.”

Your mouth fell open in shock as your brows drew together. You carefully pressed yourself to the door and kept listening.

“And her powers. Really?” he said. “Sounds like she blew something up someone’s ass to get this far, and it ain’t smoke.”

“Trust me, that’s the real deal too,” Arthur assured.

You glared at the door furiously, as if you could burn lasers out of your eyes. You crossed your arms, but you breathed evenly as you strived to keep your emotions contained.

Control, you reminded yourself. With another deep breath, you managed to let go of your ire, but the more you listened to the conversation, the more impossible that became. You turned away from the door and made clipped strides down the hall.

You knew you had to tread carefully here. You’d heard some of the real stories about Payback, because you’d taken the time to listen. You weren’t about to enter Vought Tower without having some idea of what you were getting into, and you knew you’d have to prove yourself as the rookie on the team. You just hadn’t expected their leader to be such a chauvinistic asshole.

Though inwardly, you snorted. Well, the guy is from the ‘40s. Best generation, indeed.

You rolled your shoulders and shook it away, like water off your proverbial feathers. Your mouth set in a firm line as you held your head high.

The game begins, you thought.

For the next few days, you watched. You studied each member of your new ��team” as you encountered them, and you quickly realized that this team wasn’t much of one.

They looked out for themselves, and bickered amongst themselves, in the case of the TNT Twins. Crimson Countess had given you a lovely, polite face that still somehow mocked you when she walked away, along with the bounce of her red hair.

Your powers didn’t allow you to sense or read women, but you recognized a diva when you saw one.

Clearly, she was used to being the woman on top, especially as Soldier Boy’s girlfriend. You wanted to roll your eyes at the thought. From what you’d heard (and the masculine cologne you smelled on Arthur’s assistant Joanna yesterday), Soldier Boy got around. His relationship with Countess was either very open, or it was well-crafted PR.

You had another growing, unsettling thought. The more information you gathered just by observing the team, the more you had a hard time believing that you were ever going to fit in around here.

It was only your third day in the Tower though, you reminded yourself, as you got dressed for the day in your suit. That kind of negativity wouldn’t serve you here.

So you left your apartment in search of coffee and breakfast at the breakroom and lounge area, exclusive to the team. You supposed these guys were either late sleepers, or they got their food brought to them. You were relieved to find the room empty, and you let out a deep breath.

Remember why you’re here, you thought. It’s not about you.

It had never been about you.

You rummaged through the cupboards in search of the one thing that would perk you up—good coffee. You found it near the top shelf and began to prep the coffee maker. You hummed to yourself while your hands moved on autopilot. The tune strengthened, deepening and then sweetening on higher trills.

Suddenly, your spine prickled. Your mind buzzed faintly with awareness as you sensed a presence.

It was familiar and overwhelmingly male, with heavy, confident steps coming down the hall. You tilted your head and frowned.

Soldier Boy, that asshole.

But then, your lips curved upwards. This could be fun.

When Soldier Boy walked into the breakroom, he noticed you. You pretended not to realize he was there, but you felt the heat of his gaze roaming over your body. You wanted to sigh. Predictable.

Right then, you made a quiet, firm decision. Today, this man was going to learn your name. And he wasn’t going to forget it.

You turned to him with a smile when he approached—the most pleasant one you could manage.

“Good morning, sir.”

AN: Game, set, match. 😘💚 As many of you know, this story is expanding on this Soldier Boy imagine, which I wrote almost a year ago now. In the back of my mind though, I always thought this idea could be more someday.

So please let me know what you thought of Part 1! I'm so excited for you guys to see what's coming up next...

Next Time:

“Countess, I’m not trying to replace you. I’m not trying to take anything from you.”

“Except my boyfriend,” she shot back. Finally she turned her head towards you with cool disdain. “You think I didn’t see you flirting with him last night at the afterparty?”

You rolled your eyes, though you hid a sliver of embarrassment. You should’ve known she’d spot that.

“He approached me, okay?” you said. Maybe you were about to let your pettiness to get the best of you, but you couldn’t help it. You smiled slyly. “And from what I hear, I’m the least of your worries. Looks like Ben has quite the appetite.”

The cracks of Countess’s cool façade finally broke through to anger.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 2

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seeds-and-sins · 1 year ago

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Light My Fire - Part Seven

Pairing: Ben "Soldier Boy" x F!Reader

Rating: M (Crude Language, Curse Words, Sexism, descriptions of explicit sexual content)

Description: Phoenix faces a ghost.

Tagged: @tonixe @chernayawidow, @deans-spinster-witchs-favorites, @ophennie @virgoelf-blog, @my-obsession-spn, @capricxnt

Part Six

Your father died in the war.

1945. The Battle of Okinawa.

You were fifteen years old.

You don't remember much about him, but he was a good man. He promised to come home. When the soldiers came marching in, he wasn't with them. Your mother wasn't the same after that, but she didn't show it on the surface. She cried in the bathroom and whimpered into her pillow, but she never let anyone see her like that. You had admired her when you were younger.

But now?

You couldn't even recall what her face looked like. When you thought about her, which wasn't often, all you could think about were words: strong, independent, fierce, and hard-working. Your mother was a no nonsense kind of gal and that was how she raised you. She was a secretary for some big shot in St. Louis, a working woman that earned her own and fended for her own. If not for her, you wouldn't be here. You can imagine yourself aging, having married and had children ages ago. Maybe you'd be in a nursing home right now. Maybe you'd be in a grave.

But no.

Your mother refused to marry you off like all the other mothers of your time. She didn't believe that a woman belonged in the kitchen and she refused to allow you to think otherwise. She instilled in you a fury that remained even to today.

You both lost touch with one another when you were entered into the program. You were twenty-two years old, your mother had made the arrangements herself. You don't remember why she did, but frankly, it was so long ago you can't bring yourself to care. You never went out to find her. You were certain that she was dead by now. And of the things she left you with, 'I love you' wasn't one of them.

Don't trust anyone, she said.

And don't you dare fall in love. You'll just get yourself hurt. No one cares about you and no one ever will. Remember that.

You should have listened to her, but over time her words just became less and less valuable. You didn't take them seriously anymore. Not like you used to. You doubt she told you them under the assumption that you would live to be almost a hundred years old and look not a day over twenty-two. She couldn't possibly understand what it was like to be in your boots.

It was lonely.

Surely, that would be the exception. If you trusted someone along the way, that was okay. If you fell in love...

But no.

None of this was okay.

And you don't think your mother would approve of you attending the seventieth anniversary of the biggest hero fuck fest in history.

You were scowling in disgust as you made your way through the halls of the mansion. Tommy, Tessa, and the Deep had disappeared, but you weren't so concerned about it. If Tommy and Tessa were still alive, that meant that Ben wasn't here yet. But Ben was on his way and you needed to prepare yourself for the worst. The moaning, the exotic smells that permeated in the air, the sounds of skin slapping against skin, it wasn't making your situation any better.

You couldn't believe that the twins were still doing this. It was obvious by the look on your face that you had never been a big fan of Ben's annual Herogasm. He started it with some other heroes a long ways back and from that point forward he made it a habit to host the orgy in his penthouse every once a year. You had been invited on numerous occasions before Payback had even been formed. Back then, heroes were few and far between. You didn't have hundreds of them like there was now. The invites were little pamphlets with splashes of vibrant colors stamped down by a printing press, some poorly drawn pornographic comic scribbled on the front. They were sent out by whoever was Soldier Boy's assistant at the time. Knowing how Soldier Boy was after he met you in person, if the invites had been sent by him personally, he probably would have come and fetched you himself.

That was much like what happened after he met you. Being a member of his team didn't deter him from you in the slightest. Ben would invite you to Herogasm himself every year after Payback had been created. And every year that Ben approached you about the event, you gave a very firm and strong 'no'. Ben was so determined that he would try everything he could think of to get you to change your mind. As if him barreling through your penthouse door in the early morning wasn't already bad enough. He sent you sex toys, gave you intimate details on who was going to be there, attempted to bribe you with food and drinks and drugs.

It wasn't like you were a prude.

In your younger days, you would do anything to have a good time. You were reasonable and rule-abiding, but it was a known fact that you liked to party. And you were wild and fun and carefree. The world was your playground and you were so excited to learn and try new things. Heck, you weren't even that young then. But within the era arose a lot of great changes and great changes meant new things. Everyone was living life to the fullest and everyone was rocking and rolling, swinging, mixing drugs and drinks, learning about themselves. It was a new age. Gone were the ways of the old.

So, you weren't going to lie to yourself, part of you really did want to go to Herogasm. You couldn't count how many times you had nearly walked yourself all the way to Soldier Boy's penthouse. Be damned the reality of giving him the satisfaction, you just wanted to have fun. The rational and reasonable side of yourself would stop you. You would have to do a regroup on the top of a tower somewhere, pace back and forth as you thought up reasons as to why you shouldn't go.

Orgies were great and all, but there was nothing that beat the physical and carnal intimacy of being with someone in private.

Ben had tried to persuade you that way too: It'll just be you and I, how 'bout that? But there still was the problem of him being in a relationship. Take away the public aspect of it and there still was the fact that he was with Crimson. No matter how many passes Crimson gave him, you wouldn't be just some other girl, you wouldn't allow that. And you couldn't do that to Countess.

The idea of facing him in the workplace after that, you'd never be able to do that. You weren't sure how your teammates managed. Payback had fucked with each other in every which way, even outside of Heorgasm. Herogasm was supposed to be the fuck for free card: once a year, fuck whoever you want, however you want, no consequences. What happens in Herogasm stays in Herogasm, kind of bullshit. You would never be able to do that.

Your best bet was to stay away. And you did.

It was almost ironic that you would confront Ben, after all these years, at an event like this. You weaved through the corridors of the mansion, peeking into rooms and steering clear of naked bodies. You found a surprisingly secluded part of the home and took up a space there. You were fiddling with the edge of your cape, pacing back and forth as you waited.

"Okay. Deep Breathes." You told yourself, muttering reassurances that fell empty in your gut. "Everything will be fine. Everything will work out."

What would you even say to Ben? It wasn't his fault that he had been trapped by the Soviets all these years. If anything, it was yours. You blamed yourself for not saving him when you should have. Why did you wait to confront the team? Why didn't you just go get Ben? None of this would be happening if you did. Maybe you'd finally be retired.

Or maybe you just liked this too much...

You don't know how much time had passed, too lost in your thoughts. A sickeningly sweet smell filtered in, a cloud of smoke floating in the air. You inhaled deeply through your nose, nostrils flaring.

"Halothane?" The smell brought a sense of nostalgia. Criminals tried to use it on you a few times back in the day, assuming it would knock you out cold. Either some super kinky shit was going on or something was about to go down.

You followed the cloud of smoke, turning a corner to find it unfurling from a container that rested at your feet. Some sort of smoke grenade, you deduced. You stepped forward, trotting down a set of steps before coming upon two familiar faces. The two men were in conflict with one another, Butcher easily holding back the larger man with one hand.

"Well, if it isn't Billy fuckin' Butcher." They both paused, eyes landing on you. Butcher faced you, a small smirk lifting his lips.

"Phoenix, the fiery cunt, funny seeing you 'ere."

Billy had tried to kill you a few years ago. His team and him had been tasked with obliterating your entire career and even trying to find a way to obliterate you. They failed, of course. There was no doubt that they would. And you didn't blame them for trying to kill you, you were a loose cannon. Still were. You returned his smirk as you came down those last few steps.

"I wouldn't be smiling if I were you. Don't think ya'know what's about to happen." You paused, cocked your head to the side, your irises glowed red. All too fast, a gust of air slashed at your sides as you moved with a startling quickness. Your hand encompassed Butcher's throat and you pinned him to the wall. The wall crackled around the force of your combined strength and his weight. His colleague threw a fist at a nearby display case, the glass shattered onto the carpet floor, he withdrew a wooden baseball bat. The wooden bat splintered as it hit your back, falling into a mess of pieces. Butcher fought back with a grin, making a good effort, something you didn't miss. That grin of his faded when he realized he wasn't strong enough to pry your fingers away from his exposed throat.

"What have you been up to, you piece of shit? You've gotten abnormally strong since I last saw you." You showed your teeth, your hand as hot as a furnace, holding Butcher in place as if he were a mouse. "You couldn't have taken V, I don't take you to be that kind of guy." Your gaze wandered up and down with a sick curiosity as he continued to struggle, clawing at your hand with an iron grip. "Nooo..." You ponder with a pop of your lips. "You took something else. Ya'know you can't trust that shit, right?"

"Let him go!" His colleague stood back now, withdrawing a pistol. He fired six shots at you, the bullets hit your side and dropped to the floor in little dented beads. You plainly looked between the bullets and him.

"Really?" You spat, "Don't you guys know anything by now? For fucks sake, it's always the same shit with you people."

BOOM!

The explosion surprised you and you relinquished your grip on Butcher. The wall at your back exploded into a mess of rubble, a burst of heavy wind pushing back at you. Billy and his friend collapsed to the ground from the blast, while you stayed perfectly still against it. Your eyes narrowed in its direction. As the structure of the mansion around you wheezed and crumbled from the attack, you heard screams and cries for help follow. You made no move to save anyone. Butcher groaned as he shoved a wall off of him with ease. He smirked up at you.

"You're fucked." He laughed.

The walls were black with soot, plots of fire spanned out across the once pristine white. Your eyes vigorously looked around, you searched for the source. An explosion? Much like the one in Manhatten. John had told you that Soldier Boy had caused that. Stumbling from the sheet of smoke in the air, a figure appeared, down the same set of steps that you had come from, down the same corridor. They grew closer, Butcher stood to his full height, brushing off the layer of dust that had settled on him.

The figure halted when they came into view. His bright blue eyes squinted in your direction before a heated glare contorted his handsome features. Your heart stuttered in your chest, fists clenching at your sides. What were you going to say?

God-He looked just like the last time you saw him. Shiny and bright, a little rough around the edges, but just as strong. As if nothing had happened all those years ago, as if he was just coming back from a simple vacation, he was the spitting image of the man you remembered: the same suit, shield poised at his side, hair grown slightly thicker, no mask.

"Ben." He was going to kill you, wasn't he? You could see it in his eyes. His eyes lacked the fondness that haunted your dreams. When you wished you could be back at the beginning, before all this. Before Vought betrayed him, before Vought betrayed you. "Don't do this." You breathed, your eyes softened, the red in them was replaced by your natural eye color. You extended a hand. "Please."

"You haven't seen me for years and the first thing you do is beg." His voice. Even when he sounded threatening, you missed the deep, transatlantic accent that used to make you feel warm inside. You wished you had never rejected it. Fuck Countess. Fuck morals. You should have kissed him. You should have fucked him. You should have loved him. Seeing him here, none of that mattered anymore. Ben was alive. You were right. He was here. You wanted to run and hug him with all the strength you could muster. You wanted him to hug you back.

I'm better now. You would tell him.

You weren't sick anymore. Last time you saw him, he made you swear that you would be better by the time he got back.

Or maybe you were still sick.

Damaged. Deranged.

People could be sick in different ways.

Why would he want you?

Stop being dillusional.

You weren't the same person you were when you made that promise. When Ben promised to come back to you, he was Ben. Just Ben.

Your rational side returned: Ben wanted you dead now. He wasn't Ben anymore. He was the enemy.

More importantly, he wanted John dead. Who cares if Ben succeeded in killing you? You didn't care if you died. You welcomed it. But John? Fuck anyone who would dare hurt that man. You would fucking burn the world for John. He was like a son. He was your son. No one would fucking hurt him.

"I'm disappointed." Ben added, Butcher slowly walked to stand at his side. Butcher must have felt like he owned the world now. Butcher must have felt indestructible. With whatever substance was running through his veins, with Soldier Boy at his side, all of his dreams would come true: you would be killed and Homelander would be next. You wouldn't allow it.

"I don't know what else to say."

"I waited for you." Ben growled through clenched teeth. "Of all the people, I thought you would come for me."

"I tried." You replied quickly, almost pleading.

"You didn't try hard enough." His voice cracked with emotion as he spoke those last words, before his eyes flitted to something behind you. Someone. You looked over your shoulder: It was John, descending a staircase.

"William Butcher and Soldier Boy." He announced, halting beside you, shoulder to shoulder. "You were behind this. This whole thing. It really is all about me." Soldier Boy glanced back at Butcher, you saw a distant doubt at the edge of his gaze. "William, we made a deal. To fight to the death, you and me." Butcher's expression hardened, he was glaring at Homelander with a deep and sacred hatred in his bones. Heat rose in your fingertips, you were preparing yourself for a brutal battle. Homelander shot a beam of red in Butcher's direction and Butcher was thrown, hitting the wall behind him with a booming thud. Soldier Boy faced Homelander, a coolness washed over him and he stood at the ready. "You were my hero growing up." Homelander took a step toward Ben, "I watched all of your movies hundreds of times." Your breath caught as your gaze flicked between them, an intensity clung to the air. The corridor felt more tight and narrow than before. Fumes of smoke flowing from cracks in the walls, lingering after the explosion. "You were the only one that was nearly as strong as me." Those words came out soft, muttered off the tip of John's tongue. Homelander was wide eyed, someone seeing their childhood idol for the first time and maybe John was a bit disappointed.

"Buddy," Soldier Boy replied. "You think you're strong? You're wearing a cape." You grabbed Homelander's bicep. You could feel the tension vibrating in the muscle. You had a duty to stop this, right? You didn't want this. "You're just a cheap fuckin' knockoff."

"Shut up, Ben." You shot out through clenched teeth.

"And you?" Ben turned on you. "The Phoenix. Fire in the sky. You're the biggest fake of them all. The biggest fuckin' whore." Homelander's bicep slipped from your grasp and he flew at Soldier Boy with a roar. Soldier Boy collided with the wall, but he recouped fast and swung a fist across Homelander's cheek. You flew in to intervene, trying to rip the two apart. Soldier Boy shoved you and you stumbled back, Homelander's laser vision beamed at him. You were about to tear them apart again when a hand grabbed at your shoulder and ripped you backward.

It was Butcher. You blinked at him in shock, his fist collided with your cheek. It did nothing more than snap your head to the side, but you were still surprised. His eyes turned yellow and a beam was shot in Homelander's direction, shoving him back. John was momentarily stunned as his blue eyes lifted to Butcher.

"What did you do?" He snarled.

"Scorched Earth." Butcher replied, you returned by grabbing Butcher by his jacket and you yanked him away. Homelander directed his rage toward him, fists were flying, both of them dodging before making a hit. You turned your attention to Soldier Boy, he was rolling on the floor. You stomped to him, grabbed him by the collar of his chest plate and hauled him to his feet. He punched you. The hit drew blood, the boiling hot liquid ran from your nostril. Before you could collect yourself, Soldier Boy's hand was at your throat and he was choking you.

"I would have given you the fuckin' world." He hissed.

"They-" You choked out, "Got me-" Both of your hands wrapped around his wrist and you fought with all your strength. "Too." His grip loosened just a touch and his eyebrows furrowed at you in confusion. An arm looped around his neck and Homelander was drawing him into a chokehold. Butcher tackled Homelander from behind.

You held your throat, gasping for breath. You stumbled toward the three, reaching out for Butcher when you were shoved from behind. The shove wasn't enough to send you off balance, but you spun on your heel.

It was a naked man.

Starlight's boyfriend? He stared wide eyed at you, you stared wide eyed at him.

Upon recognition of his place in all this, you wasted no time, fire balled in your fist and you threw a wave of heat at him. He squealed, patting himself down, left intact by your attack. Your attentions went back to the trio. You punched Soldier Boy in the gut. Butcher climbed off Homelander to grapple you by the shoulder and throw you.

Soon. In a mess of limbs and fire, it was Homelander and you versus Starlight's boyfriend, Butcher, and Soldier Boy. Soldier Boy and Butcher were far more trained in specific combos of attack, while Homelander just aimlessly tossed his brute strength in where he could hit them. All of them had one goal. It was like you didn't even exist. Any move against you was one to keep you away. The three of them held Homelander down to the ground, Ben's chest began to glow yellow.

What was that?! What was he doing?! You had never seen that before.

"No! Stop!" You screamed, steam rose from the corners of your eyes. You grabbed Ben by the shoulders and pulled with all your might. "PLEASE!"

WHOOSH!

Your efforts were just enough to give Homelander an opening and he escaped their hold, flying into the sky and through the roof. You fell back, hitting the wall.

It was still.

Quiet.

You licked your lips, eyes focused ahead on Soldier Boy's hunched form. Butcher flipped on his side and Starlight's boyfriend stood with a limp and a grunt. Soldier Boy stood, one leg at a time, he slowly faced you. His chest rose and fell with every ragged breath. You held against the wall as he closed in on you.

"I'm going to kill him..." He began, pulling loose tufts of his hair back with his fingers. "And I'm going to make you watch." You tilted your head away. "And then I'm going to kill you." Your vision just so happened to land on Butcher. He was grinning now, blood staining his teeth.

"This is not fair, Ben." You said weakly.

"Aww, are you gonna' cry?" He taunted, lacking any jest, all cold and callous. "Gosh, I don't remember you being such a pussy."

"I don't remember you being so cold."

"Well, that's what happens when the only person you ever fuckin' cared about leaves you to the wolves for four decades!" He shouted, spital ran off his sharp teeth.

"Fuck you, Ben. You don't even know anything. You don't know." You whimpered back, defeated. You couldn't even believe that was you talking. You lifted into the air and flew through the hole in the ceiling.

Ben's eyed followed you, head tilting back. His fists clenched at his sides.

"What did she mean?" He asked out loud, "They Got Me too. What does that mean?"

"Who fuckin' knows, mate. You can't trust a word she says." Butcher replied, eyes narrowing on Soldier Boy in question. Soldier Boy needed to think Phoenix was the enemy. Otherwise, they would never kill Homelander. "She's just tryin' to get into your head."

"That flying fuck and her, are they..."

"What do you think?" And that was the only seed Butcher needed to plant because Soldier Boy's answering grimace was enough. He was hurt and he was fuming and that was how Butcher needed him to stay. He needed Soldier Boy on his side.

"Guys, we gotta' go. Like, now." Hughie stated anxiously, Butcher nodded in agreement.

"Come on." Soldier Boy stood below the hole in the ceiling, his fists clenched at his sides, he gritted his teeth.

You were right there. Right in front of him. As beautiful as the first day he had met you...

And he should have killed you.

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#reader #the boys #homelander #the seven #black noir #vought international #crimson countess #soldier boy x reader #oc hero name #billy butcher #hughie campbell #starlight #mothers milk #tnt twins #payback

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