#billy butcher x fem! reader

[burntsaltsblog]

tw: mentions of blood, mdni

Chapter Three

"We gotta to take her to the hospital."

"You know we can't do that."

"We can because she's fuckin' dying!"

My body felt like it was floating before my focus settled on a steady throb of pain in my lower stomach.

"Butcher, she's not dying. Her pulse is strong, and since I stitched her up, she hasn't bled whatsoever."

"Then, why the hell ain't she wakin' up?"

"Because she's exhausted. She lost a great amount of blood and wore herself out trying to fucking wrestle you in the van."

Blood.

That word caught my attention. I remembered blood and lots of it as it painted Butcher's knuckles a deep red.

"If she's not up in thirty minutes, I'm takin' her to the emergency room, end of story."

"Butcher, you, and I, and fucking Jesus Christ himself, know that if we step one foot into any medical facility, we will be taken into custody. It's not worth the risk."

"She is. She's worth the risk.

It was quiet for either a few minutes or a few hours. Both timeframes felt the same in my hazy state.

A long sigh broke the spell, followed by more dialogue. "Jo is ok, I promise you. Now, I need to grab the bag of fluids that I left in my room. While I'm gone, don't you dare think about running off with her. I am the only medical professional she needs right now."

Footsteps trailed off as my eyes slowly blinked open to take in my surroundings. I was in the basement of the pawn shop, on the couch that I was still convinced had bed bugs.

"Mornin', sunshine."

The Cockney accent drew my attention, and I looked up at Butcher's tired face. His hazel eyes bored into mine, and memories from earlier flooded my brain.

"Here ya' go," Butcher said, offering me a glass of water.

Upon attempting to sit up and accept the drink, I gasped as my abdomen screamed in pain.

"Woah, there. It's a little soon for you to be up and at 'em, doll. Here, lemme help ya'," Butcher said gently as he laid me back down on the couch and eased a hand under my head, propping it up so I could drink.

Grateful, I eagerly gulped the water, finishing the whole glass in mere seconds and earning a chuckle from Butcher.

"There, ya' go. Down the hatch."

He slowly lowered my head back on my pillow and placed the empty glass on the coffee table behind him before turning back to face me, studying my face in great detail.

"You gave us a right scare there, love."

"At least I know you guys care," I shrugged. "Now, when I do actually drop dead, I'll be expecting a funeral with the works—fireworks, I mean. See if you can get Celine Dion, too. I heard she's available."

I expected another laugh from Billy, but instead, he looked more solemn than ever. His eyes trailed down to where my shirt, a clean one without blood, rode up on my stomach, showing the gauze that MM had wrapped me in.

"I thought I had lost ya'," He mumbled.

It was quiet between us due to the fact that I didn't know how to react to Butcher's surprising words.

"I guess I can relate to the feeling," I finally said as my face hardened. "Since you left me for three months with no goodbye. I thought you were dead."

Butcher bowed his head, "Jo, you have no idea how much I fuckin' regret leaving ya'. But I had no other choice."

"You always have a choice, Butcher." My voice grew louder as my emotions rose in powerful waves. "And you didn't leave me. You fucking abandoned me!"

He cupped my face, but I turned my head, rejecting the physical affection. "Don't," I whispered. "It's too late. You can't just walk back in here and act like nothing happened. Like you didn't fuck me, and then throw me away like garbage the next day."

Butcher's nostrils flared as he rose to his impressive height, towering over me. "Now, listen here-"

"Ok, I'm breaking this up," MM called, reentering the room. "Jo is very weak right now, and I cannot allow her to undergo any extra stress."

"I'm not weak," I quipped back, whipping my head to gaze at MM as he leaned over the back of the couch.

Unconvinced, he asked, "Really? Let me see you try and stand up then."

When I didn't move to rise from the sofa, MM shook his head. "You need fluids and rest. Luckily, neither is hard to obtain." He held up a bag of fluids before hanging it on an IV stand next to him.

"Now," he continued, doling out commands. "Close your eyes and go to sleep. I'll check your stitches in a couple of hours."

"But I'm not tired," I argued.

"The bags under your eyes say otherwise."

"Well, this couch is uncomfortable," I grumbled. "It hurts my back."

"Alright, we'll get you to your room then," MM sighed.

Before I could stop him, Butcher scooped me up into his arms, and I protested loudly. "Hey, what the fuck are you doing?"

"Oi, shut your pie hole," he whispered harshly, fanning the side of my face with his breath that stank of whiskey and dominance. "I'm takin' care of you whether ya' like it or not."

I fought an internal battle before closing my lips and fixing my eyes into narrow slits.

"Good girl."

Air was quickly expelled from my lungs as I exhaled, willing myself not to rub my legs together as an ache settled between them.

But it was no use. Butcher knew the effect he had on me, and from the corner of my eye, I could see a smirk plastered on his face as he carried me to my room, full of arrogance after winning our little quarrel.

"Dontcha worry, darlin'. When you're on your feet again, you can beat me up for being the bad man that I am."

I didn't respond because I refused to be baited into another argument with Butcher. Instead, I kept a pout in place and stared straight ahead, thinking of all the ways that I could cause him physical harm. After all, he had just given me permission to, and it was proving to be quite invigorating.

"And maybe when you're all done, you'll fancy bending over and lettin' me enjoy a meal or two. Because if my memory serves me, you seemed to enjoy it last time."

"Well, the last time was the only time," I curtly informed him as Butcher gently dropped me down on my bed. I inwardly chastised myself for falling for his trap when he flashed his crazy eyes above me.

"Mhm, that's what they all say."

"Well, I mean it," I snapped, pulling my blanket up to my chin as if it would shield me from Butcher's snarky words.

"Sure ya' do," Butcher said condescendingly as he patted me on the head before leaving the room.

I was relieved to be out of his company and was disappointed when he returned, the IV stand with the bag of fluids still hanging from it in tow and other needed supplies grasped in his hand. I watched as he prepared the IV tubing before he sat down on the edge of my bed and huffed, "Give me your arm."

"Why can't MM do it?" I sulked.

"Because I'm doin' it," he replied in a matter-of-fact manner.

I grumbled under my breath, clearly displeased. As I reluctantly drew my arm from under the blanket's coverage, Butcher looked at me with a bushy brow raised. "What? You don't think I'm a suitable nurse?"

"Well, your bedside manners leave much to be desired."

"That's funny. All my other patients think I'm perfectly charmin', especially the older ladies. I didn't know I appealed to nans so much," he snickered, running a calloused finger over my arm, searching for an appropriate vein.

"I'm surprised you appeal to anyone."

"I guess ya' should be questionin' your own taste then, eh?"

"Believe me, I am."

Butcher didn't reply as he wrapped a small piece of fabric around my bicep, creating a makeshift tourniquet.

"Don't look, ok, doll?" he instructed, swiping a cotton ball covered in rubbing alcohol over my arm. My nose wrinkled at the strong smell, and I coughed.

"I don't need an IV," I said, trying to negotiate at the last minute. "I'll drink lots of water. Even that gross electrolyte shit MM buys."

"I don't think that's gonna to cut it, sweetheart," he stated, sliding the needle inside of the small catheter.

I bit my lip, trying to resign myself to my fate but failing miserably.

"M'not gonna hurt ya', ok? Just look at the ceilin' so you don't maul me to death."

"It's not like you wouldn't deserve it."

Butcher closed his eyes as I began to tread on his nerves. "Princess, you outta think before you speak that way to someone who's holdin' a very sharp object inches from you, yeah?"

"But you won't hurt me. You just said so yourself."

"Doesn't mean I'm not tempted."

I rolled my eyes and held my breath as I followed Butcher's wishes and looked at the ceiling. I winced slightly when I felt the needle initially enter my arm, but Butcher gently ran his free hand over my shoulder, distracting me.

"Atta girl," he breathed. "You're doin' so good."

My body trembled as I floated down from my last orgasm. I was vaguely aware of Butcher as he pulled me to lay on his chest, both of us panting.

"Y'alright, sweetheart?"

I could barely reply as my eyelids fluttered open and closed. My mind was full of various thoughts, but none of them made sense as my head floated somewhere above the rest of my body.

"Look at me, doll," Butcher said, running a hand through my hair. "Lemme see them pretty eyes."

I mustered all of my strength to peel my eyes open as I looked up at Billy with a lazy smile on my face.

"There she is. Atta girl," Butcher whispered. "You did so good for me."

Even in my delirious state, I keened under his praise, and Butcher chuckled at my reaction.

"My beautiful girl," he murmured as I nuzzled into his neck, nodding off in the arms of someone I loved.

Yes, I loved Billy Butcher.

He just didn't know it yet.

I held my breath as I forced myself to count the questionable yellow spots on the ceiling and not get lost in yet another memory of Butcher pretending to cherish me. I had just reached the twelfth discolored splotch when Butcher sat back and said, "All done, love."

I looked down at my arm and furrowed my brows in confusion when I saw the catheter fully inserted with some tape to keep it in place. Aside from the initial insertion, I hadn't felt the rest of the procedure.

"Told ya' it wouldn't hurt," Butcher said proudly, crossing his arms over his broad chest, reading my thoughts, which were clearly displayed on my face.

"I guess you're not the worst nurse in the world," I relented.

Butcher's mouth curled up at the side, and I knew my meager compliment had inflated his already oversized ego.

"Well, ain't that sweet of you to say. But don't tell MM, alright? He prides himself on his medical skills."

Butcher delicately adjusted my blanket, pulling it tighter and tucking me in for the night. "Now you have a little lie-down, love. And dontcha let those manky bedbugs bite."

"Are you going to read me a bedtime story while you're at it?" I inquired.

"The only stories I like to tell aren't appropriate for bedtime," Butcher whispered, winking at me.

He headed for the open doorway before turning around at the last second. "Oh, and if ya' need help countin' sheep, just give me a shout. I'll be on the other side of the wall."

I nodded before curling up on my side, trying not to tug too hard on my IV as the door creaked shut, signaling that I was alone. The light from the living room drifted under the doorway, providing a makeshift nightlight and illuminating the small, dingy room.

Sleep came surprisingly soon, and I drifted off, dreaming of Billy's heartbeat under my ear as he held me in his arms.

༺༻

It felt like only minutes later when I woke up due to the sensation of someone's hands on my stomach, and I flinched as my eyes flew open.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you," MM apologized. "I was just checking your stitches," he explained as he pulled the bandage back over my abdomen and quickly did the same with my shirt and blanket.

"How does it look?" I asked hesitantly as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes.

"So far, it's holding. But it wasn't my best work with Frenchie going ninety miles an hour and you...evading my help," he sighed.

"Sorry about that," I mumbled sheepishly.

"Hey, don't worry about it, kid. We all have something we're scared of. If I were being held down against my will while someone coughed in my face, I'd have done everything I could to knock their fucking teeth out."

My smile was small as I nodded in gratitude. "What time is it?" I inquired, wondering what day it was as well.

"Noon."

"Noon?" My eyes grew wide as I ran a hand through my matted hair. "Fuck, I must've slept for almost nine hours." Which was rare. These days, I was lucky if I slept for two hours consecutively with the anxiety that ran through my veins and the threats that loomed over our heads.

"Ten, actually. I told you your body needed rest."

I was preparing a comeback when my stomach grumbled loudly, interrupting the conversation.

MM rose to his feet. "By the sound of it, it seems you might want some breakfast. Frenchie made you a get-well gift in the form of French toast. Are you interested?" he asked, and my ears perked up at the offer.

"Sounds really good, actually."

He nodded, patting my shoulder. "Ok. Butcher will be in to help you up."

I groaned loudly, and MM couldn't help but laugh. "Sorry, kid, but Butcher made us all swear not to touch you. I was only granted special permission on the basis that it was purely medical so I could check your stitches."

"He's being ridiculous," I scowled.

MM regarded me knowingly. "I think I'd probably call it something else."

I rolled my eyes, and MM laughed again as he exited my room, leaving the door open.

I barely had time to prepare myself for Butcher's imposing presence when he glided through the uninhibited doorway with a cheery greeting on his tongue.

"Rise and shine, my love. How are we feelin' this mornin?" His accent was especially thick as he wasted no time in raking my blanket back.

I yanked the fuzzy material back over myself, glaring up at the Brit, but he just retaliated by gripping the blanket in one of his paw-like hands and tossing it across the small room.

I eyed the pile of fabric I was unable to retrieve due to my current injury and whined, "Don't leave it on the floor. I just washed it." But I was soon distracted by the chair that sat in the corner facing my bed. I didn't remember seeing that yesterday.

"Who's chair is that?" I asked, pivoting the conversation.

"Mine," Butcher replied as he carefully pulled my IV out and wheeled the IV stand out of the way. "You'll have to forgive me for bringin' my chair in, but I haven't figured out how to sleep standin' up yet."

"You slept in here last night?"

"Well, I don't have bloody x-ray vision, so how else was I s'pposed to keep an eye on you, eh?"

"Did it ever occur to you that not checking on me at all was a viable option?"

"Not in my book," he responded sharply before changing the subject. "Now, let's getcha up. According to MM, you're fancyin' some of Frenchie's cookin'."

Butcher slid an arm under my lower back and slowly pulled me into a sitting position.

"Easy does it, love," he said as I squeezed my eyes shut and breathed through the discomfort. "You got it."

I swung my legs over the side of the bed so my feet rested on the floor, and I braced my palms on my thighs, trying to steady myself.

"Take your time, ok? I don't need ya' rippin' your stitches under my watch," he advised as he laced our hands together and pulled until I was standing on my own two feet. My vision blacked out for a second as the blood rushed from my head down to the rest of my body, and I teetered forward, falling into Butcher's muscular chest.

"I've got ya' sweetheart," he assured me as he held my unstable frame against him.

I pulled back when my vision returned, and I looked up into Butcher's attentive face. "I'm dizzy," I mumbled.

"S'ok. MM said that's normal," he assured me softly, tucking my tangled hair behind my ear.

I wanted to chastise myself for enjoying Butcher's tenderness, but I simply didn't have the energy as I nodded, trying to turn toward the door.

"Do ya' think you can walk?" he asked, resting a protective hand on my back. I'm more than happy to carry you."

"I don't need a chauffeur. I'm perfectly capable of walking," I said, stumbling forward a few steps. I was determined to do something on my own after being coddled for the past twenty-four hours.

Butcher didn't reply, but he didn't remove his hand either in the event that I should fall again. That only increased the pressure I felt to walk faster and show him I was strong enough to move about without any help.

I finally made it out into the open area of the basement and was greeted by everyone. Hughie, Kimiko, and MM wore encouraging smiles as Frenchie placed a tall plate of French toast topped with whipped cream on the coffee table.

"Pour toi, Mademoiselles," Frenchie announced, and I thanked him profusely.

Under Butcher's watchful eye, I eased myself down on the couch, and he quickly followed suit. He placed a supportive arm around my shoulders, and I would've made a snarky comment about him being clingy, but his arm was the only thing keeping me upright at the moment, so I kept my mouth shut.  

Butcher placed my breakfast in my lap and whispered in my ear, "Do ya' need me to cut it for you, princess?"

I used all my energy to elbow him in his side, and he breathed out a laugh before addressing the room. "Alright you twats. Let's have a little chin wag about tonight."

My head shot up in confusion as I chewed the first bite of my French toast. The wonderful medley of sugar and cinnamon coated my tongue. However, I couldn't focus on Frenchie's superb culinary skills when the group began discussing a mission to which I was not privy.

"Ok, so after a little bit of trouble due to a very annoying firewall, I was able to hack their systems, and I found a blueprint of the building, so we'll be able to locate her office quicker than just going in blindly," Hughie said, squatting next to the coffee table and spreading out the blueprint that he had just spoken of.

"Who's office?" I interrupted.

Hughie looked confusedly at Butcher, who had remained silent beside me. "You didn't tell her?"

"Tell me what?" I asked skeptically, turning my head to look at Butcher, and he sighed.

"We're breakin' into Raynor's office to have a look around before the CIA cleans it out. Word on the street is that they're doin' it tomorrow, so we've gotta go tonight."

"And you decided this without me?" I asked incredulously.

"You were knocked out, love. Was I s'pposed to wake ya' up in the middle of the night? You're always moaning about how ya' need your beauty sleep."

"Well, that wouldn't have been difficult considering you were two feet away watching me like a fucking peeping tom," I snapped before glaring at the rest of the room. "I'm coming with you."

"No," Butcher said sternly. "You aren't goin' anywhere."

"Yes, I am," I pressed.

I felt Butcher's fingers tighten around my shoulder. "Let's talk about this later, yeah?" he suggested.

"Talk about what later? The mission that I was unaware of or the fact that you won't fucking leave me alone?"

I should've seen it coming, but I was still thrown off when Butcher suddenly stood from the sofa, leaving me to crumple against it without his support. He then stomped to the other side of the basement, only stopping when he reached the corner and sneered at me. "Is this better?"

"Expanetuily," I bit back, clutching my abdomen as it tensed up under the new strain as I stood as well, not finished with what I had to say on the matter. I thought I was holding up well until MM swore, rushing to my side and forcing me to sit back down.

Bemewsed by his behavior, I tried to question him, but when he pulled up my shirt, I saw blood seeping through the gauze, and my heart plummeted.

I had ripped my stitches.

"Hughie, go into my room. On my desk, you will find some supplies. Bring them to me," MM instructed as he made quick work of pulling back the now-damp gauze.

"Fuck, it's worse than what I thought," he sighed. "Nice going, Butcher," he said, throwing a dirty look over his shoulder at his boss, who had remained standing in the corner.

The dig forced Butcher into action as he footed it over to us. "Fuck you. Clearly, I didn't do it on bloody purpose."

"Just get out," MM barked as he accepted the supplies from Hughie.

"No, I'm stayin'," Butcher argued obstinantely.

MM pinched the bridge of his nose. "Butcher, Jo is clearly upset by you being here. So stop being a stubborn motherfucker and get the fuck out."

Butcher's gaze fell on me as lines formed between his thick brows in concern. I knew he was waiting for me to beg him to stay, but I wouldn't do it. His comfort was something I craved like a drug, and it was about time I got clean. Plus, I couldn't deny the sick urge I had to hurt him, to push him away like he did to me when he left for three months.

"Fine," Butcher uttered slowly when I remained silent, "I'll let you other cunts dry this one's tears when she's fuckin' beside herself over a goddamn needle and a little bit of blood."

He pivoted around and swept up the stairs. Seconds later, the old building shook as Butcher forcefully slammed the door.

It was quiet after Butcher's dramatic exit, and MM shook his head, running a needle through a lighter. The deja vu I felt was painfully prominent.

"You ready to try this again, kid?"

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[happy74827]

A Smile From Hell

[Homelander x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Despite the amount of unpredictability The Homelander has, he still catches you off guard with something as small as a smile.

WC: 3576

Category: Angst, Supe!Reader {TW — Homelander for obvi reasons}

In honor of Season 4’s weekly releases, this one is for the Antony Starr girlies (and you @summerrivera777777)

『••✎••』

John fucking terrified you.

He terrified everyone, really.

He had the power to level an entire city block with a glance. He was strong enough to crush a man's skull with one hand and fast enough to catch a bullet. He was an unstoppable force of nature. He was The Homelander, and he was a threat to anyone who stood in his way.

But, the thing was...

You knew everything about him. Everything.

And he absolutely despised that, but there was nothing he could do to change it. You had seen him at his most vulnerable and pathetic. You had seen his humanity, it’s amazing he still has any after the way Vought has abused him, and you had seen his inhumanity.

Jessica, or Sister Sage, had confronted you on several occasions, trying to get you to tell her your secrets. She wanted the upper hand on her arch nemesis, the only one in the world who was a threat to her. It was her mission to end the reign of the superhero she hated most, and she was willing to do anything for it.

You could see right through her, and you didn’t need magnificent amounts of intelligence to do so. You could see the fear in her eyes. You could see the doubt in her face, hear the strain in her voice, feel her uneasiness when she was near him.

John knew it, too. He just simply chose to ignore it. He had grown used to being the scariest man in the room. It’s been that way his whole life, and it seemed it was going to stay that way.

But, despite all that fear, she came to you for answers. Again.

And this time, the question was a simple one. It was so simple, yet completely understandably complicated.

How are you allowed to live?

That was a question that stumped you. It took you a long time to grasp the meaning of it, the specific answer she was looking for.

After a few clarifications, you finally understood what she meant.

She wanted to know why John allowed you to live. She wanted to know why he hadn’t killed you. She wanted to understand why you were the only person alive after calling him by his name.

Not his stage name, his real name.

For being the most intelligent person on the planet, you’d think that she’d be able to understand it. I mean, the answer was right there, in front of her face. She didn't need to be a genius to figure it out; all she needed was a little more insight.

A little bit of understanding.

"Respect," you said, your voice soft. Your words were clear, though, and she heard them perfectly.

The confusion on her face was evident, as was her disbelief.

"What?"

"It's respect. Anyone I respect is someone that deserves my respect."

She snorted.

"Right," she said. "Like he could actually respect anything other than himself."

"He's capable of it if that's what you're thinking," you told her. "And this isn’t about him respecting me; it's about me respecting him."

She narrowed her eyes at you, her suspicion rising.

"Why would you respect him?" she questioned. "You're not blind; you know exactly who he is."

Yes, you did. You knew more than most, and compared to The Seven now, you probably knew the most. His actions? Completely unredeemable. He was, in fact, a monster; there was no arguing that. He was a horrible, twisted, monstrous individual; no one would deny it.

His actions weren’t excusable, but he had an explanation. A reason for why he was the way he was.

He wasn’t born a monster; he was turned into one. That… that was the respect part. You respected him because you respected his story. You respected his pain. You respected his anger.

You respected his past; anything after that was on him.

"I don’t like using stage names to those I respect enough, so I call him John. He allows it because he knows I don’t mean it the way others would if they used his name; it doesn't hold the same power with me."

She rolled her eyes at you.

"Same goes for you, Jessica; I have no desire to call you Sister Sage."

Her flinch was barely visible, but you still caught it. Again, what is intelligence if not knowing the chances of a particular outcome?

"I’ve noticed you don’t call Deep or that fire chick by their real names."

You just smiled, leaving her to solve that answer for herself, and it didn’t take long at all. You knew the exact moment she came up with a conclusion. She was quite predictable, in that regard. Maybe you should’ve been the big-brained hero instead.

And now, you really should’ve been because when you turned down the hall, catching wind of the elevator doors opening, you knew he had listened to it all.

But you didn’t say anything, and you really didn’t say anything after a simple glance at him.

He was completely drenched in blood, a look that would terrify even the toughest of men. But not you, oh no, you were very used to that. He’s done a lot worse.

Besides, you were too distracted by the fact that the blood wasn't his. Too distracted by noticing how this time was different. He was smiling, but it wasn’t his usual cruel smile. This time, it was genuinely happy.

Relief, almost.

It reminded you of the night you two bonded. No, not that type of bond. The bond that told you both that you weren’t alone.

He had a friend, but he wasn’t really your friend. You don’t believe you could ever consider him one. Not really, not with the things he has done.

But, still, you were the closest thing he had to a friend. You were the closest he had to an equal, a person he could relate to. Jessica carried the same intelligence (obviously a lot more), but the similarities between the two of them stopped there.

You had a similar history but different outcomes.

And that reveal between the two of you happened that night. This was way back, even before Starlight joined. Back when The Seven was in its prime.

Stillwell threw a party, something she always loved to do before Teddy became her focus. It was the usual: people in fancy dresses and suits, lots of champagne and liquor.

The difference, however, was the main focal point. Usually, given Vought’s status, all of The Seven members were the main event. Everyone was mandated to wear their hero outfits. It was a great way to advertise and get people to buy more of the products.

The theme this time, however, wasn’t about the group. It wasn’t about any of you. For the first time in a long while, John wasn’t in the spotlight.

Due to this, Stillwell banned everyone from wearing their costumes. No capes, no spandex, no leather, no masks. Just suits and dresses.

It was nice, actually. A little break from the norm. It felt good to go a night without the tight leather on your skin. You were actually surprised at how well it was received.

The rest of the members of the group seemed to be having a wonderful time as well.

Except for one.

He was standing in the corner, glaring at everyone. Madelyn had an entire argument with him about the suit. You weren’t there, but you knew exactly how it went.

His costume was a part of him. It was a symbol. It was a mask. A representation. An embodiment of who he was. Without it, he was a naked target.

Madelyn clearly did not give a single shit. In the end, the argument resulted in the two of them getting into a screaming match, causing him to storm off in a fit of rage.

So, there he was, standing alone, seething at anyone who passed him. Madelyn won; of course, she did, and she didn't even bother trying to apologize. She wasn't sorry.

She was just mad that he refused to listen in the first place.

But, hey, that wasn’t your problem. You were enjoying yourself. The night was going pretty well; the alcohol was flowing nicely, and the music was just right. You were dancing and laughing and having a great time.

But, of course, things weren't always easy for you.

You weren’t expecting it to last long; you weren’t one to have good luck. You knew, deep down, that the night was going to come crashing down on you. You were just waiting for the ball to drop.

The ball dropped the moment you decided to go cheer up the sourpuss.

It was obvious the way his shoulders tensed, and his head tilted ever so slightly. He knew you were approaching. He was aware.

"Don't," he said.

He was clearly angry, and you weren’t smart enough not to push. This is where Jessica’s powers would have benefited you greatly.

You ignored his warning, walking up beside him, mocking his stance.

"You okay?" you asked, your tone soft and light, a hint of playfulness.

His eyes flicked over to you, and the glare he gave was terrifying. His eyes were so intense, and his teeth were clenched. You could see his jaw tensing.

He was a volcano, ready to erupt.

You could practically see the steam coming out of his ears.

"I'm fine." Humorously enough, it sounded like the opposite.

"Really?"

He turned his head to look at you, his anger increasing by the second.

"Don’t you have anything better to do?"

You shrugged. "Yeah, but I'm choosing to talk to you."

He looked away from you, grumbling, "And why's that?"

"Because you’re ruining the party," you answered. "Miserable face and all."

He rolled his eyes. He actually does this a lot, believe it or not. It's the only expression he has besides anger that isn’t fake.

"And why do you care?"

You shrugged again. "I care about enjoying myself, and I can't do that when you're moping."

He turned his head towards you. He was not amused.

"Go find someone else to entertain yourself with.” He pointed behind him. "I’m sure Deep will be glad to show off his fish facts."

That one caused you to make the same face he had moments ago. The absolute look of disgust on your face was enough to bring a smug grin to his own.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

"Don't make me throw up, John."

The name.

It was a simple slip-up, nothing more. But, of course, it meant so much more. This was before everything, so it doesn’t seem likely that a slip-up like that wouldn’t result in consequences, but it secretly was a turning point.

He could've killed you.

He could've easily grabbed you and thrown you across the room, and no one would be able to comprehend what had happened until after you were unrecognizable.

He didn't, though.

No, instead, he stared at you, his face blank, and his mind processing. You were nervous, of course. You had no idea what was going on in his head.

After a minute, a look of realization came upon him, and you could see the exact moment the gears started turning.

Then, a simple hum fell from his lips. One said he wasn’t expecting it but was deciding whether to accept it.

Then, after a few seconds, his face relaxed. His jaw was unclenched, his eyes softened, and his eyebrows relaxed.

"Let’s have a chat."

Uh oh. That’s a code red—a sign of danger.

You were so done.

And yet, for some odd reason, you followed him. You don’t know why. It was a stupid move, in your opinion. You should've run while you had the chance. You should’ve listened and just punched fishlips or something.

You didn’t, though.

You followed him, allowed him to fly you somewhere private, and just waited. You waited for your imminent doom. You were going to die; you were sure of it.

But, for some reason, your death never came.

Instead, the two of you landed on the tower’s roof, the cold New York air hitting you hard. He had set you down on your feet and went all the way to the railing.

You stood awkwardly, waiting for him to turn around with those beams in his eyes, but they never came.

He was just looking out into the city, his back turned to you, his hands on the railing.

After a few minutes of silence, he turned his head, looking at you through the corner of his eye.

"Aren't you going to ask?"

Ask what? What was there to ask?

There were plenty of things to ask, actually, and yet you had no idea what the right thing to ask was. Because, again, even here, he was unpredictable and unreadable.

You didn't want to anger him; you knew that for sure. But you were also tired of his mind games. It was a constant battle of wit, and you were sick and tired of being left in the dust.

So, you chose something simple to say. Something easy, yet not so simple to answer.

"Are you going to kill me?"

You wouldn’t be surprised if he turned around with a smile and answered yes.

He didn’t, though. Oh no, he stayed turned, staring into the city, his eyes searching. Searching for what you didn't know.

"No."

Simple and clear.

You didn't respond, and he didn't elaborate. It was silent, and it was cold, and it was a tense moment.

But you didn't leave. You just watched him, watched his movements. The way his shoulders hunched over, his head tilting down, the grips on the railing, the way his hair slowly became unstuck due to the wind.

You always thought his hair looked better when it wasn't slicked back, but this is the first time you've ever seen it that way. It was… it was nice.

Then, his shoulders relaxed, and his head straightened. He didn’t turn around, and he didn’t speak. He just looked over his shoulder at you, his eyes piercing yours.

Even with a few strands of hair on his face, his eyes were so sharp and clear. So blue. So cold.

It felt like they were reaching deep into your soul.

It was terrifying. He was terrifying.

"Do you remember your parents?"

The question took you by surprise. It wasn’t what you were expecting, but then again, this whole encounter was the definition of unexpected.

"Yes. Why?"

His eyes scanned yours as if looking for a lie. Then, he turned back around, leaning on the railing.

"I can't remember mine," he said. "Sometimes I wonder if I even had them."

Oh. Oh. This was huge. This was a big one. You had to search deeply even to find out his actual name. Now, here he was, telling you of his past.

Of all people, he chose to tell you.

You didn’t know how to feel about that.

You were honored, yes. You were excited, definitely. But, most importantly, you were worried. Is this him letting you in? Or is it him preparing you for your demise?

It was an unknown territory, a field of landmines. You knew a lot about his past already, but now he was aware of the fact that you knew. He knows, and yet he is still giving you the information.

Why?

"I mean, it doesn't make sense. Everyone has parents, right? And I couldn't have been born out of nowhere. So, I must have had parents. A mom, a dad, some form of guardians."

His face was scrunched, and his eyebrows were furrowed. You could see the way his brain was working. He was really thinking about it, wondering how the pieces fit together.

He was struggling to make a connection, and he was mad at himself for not having it.

"I'm assuming your childhood wasn't the best," you said. You knew it was a risky move, joking about his past, but so far, he seemed to like the boldness and humor.

And he did, in fact, let out a snort.

"Understatement of the year."

You smiled but quickly stopped. It was a serious conversation, and smiling probably wasn’t the appropriate reaction.

Silence filled the space again, and he was back to thinking. He was trying; he was really trying. But he just couldn't.

It wasn't the fact that his parents were a mystery; he's come to terms with that. It was the fact that he couldn’t remember anything.

All he remembered was the torture, the pain, the experiments… nothing about how he got there. Nothing about the people before the scientists. Nothing about a home. And the fact that they were currently building a fake one for him made him so angry.

It was a mockery—a complete joke.

He felt all of these emotions and yet couldn't express them.

And he was frustrated. He was pissed off and tired and angry and sad and empty and-

"Did you rip off your tie?" Your eyes had caught sight of his bare neck, the black fabric missing.

It was the only way to pull him out of his head, and, to your surprise, it worked. You could see the moment he snapped back to reality, the moment he was pulled away from his mind.

"Yeah," he answered. "It was suffocating me."

You could tell.

His hair became more unkempt due to the wind. The strands of hair on his forehead were getting in the way, and it was getting annoying. Not for you, no, but for him.

For you, it was… humanizing. It made him seem a little less like a god.

He lifted his hand, his fingers gently combing through the locks. It was a struggle, a normal struggle that you've had with your own hair.

Plenty struggle with deviating the locks away from their desired location. You've had your own fair share of moments.

But this was the first time you'd seen him experience it. The first time witnessing him do something so simple and basic.

Such a human thing. It had you wondering what else he was capable of.

He sighed, his hand dropping back to the railing. Again, it is a normal thing to happen. But, it had you smiling, the corners of your mouth curving ever so slightly.

The action did not go unnoticed.

"What?" he asked, not even bothering to turn around.

You shrugged. "I've just never…"

Your mind kept changing images. His hair, his eyes, his shoulders, his jaw, his nose, his ears, his neck, his hand, his lips, his chin, his cheekbones, his eyebrows, his skin…

Everything is listed in your mind, including the little imperfections and details that make him, well, him. This was the first time you saw him anything other than perfect.

The perfect monster he was, the god of all men. The man of the century, the one to take the world by storm. The strongest, the smartest, the best.

The symbol, the image, the mask.

The facade.

This was the first time you saw him as just a person. A human being. Just a regular guy.

"Sometimes I wonder how different life would be if you were…"

Normal.

The word was at the tip of your tongue. You could've said it; you should've said it. It was the truth. It was obvious.

But you couldn't.

He knew where your sentence was going, though. Of course, he did.

"If I was… what?" He still wanted to hear it. He was looking for validation, and he wanted it from you. His eyes were on you, his body turned, but there was this one odd thing.

A smile.

It wasn't his usual one. The one you were used to. The one that made everyone scared and uneasy. No, this was a real smile.

A soft, small one, but still a real smile.

A true smile. As if he knew the words you were going to say, as if he knew your thoughts, and he found them amusing.

You found him amusing.

And just because of that, you didn’t give him the validation.

"It’s fucking freezing out here," You coughed in hopes of successfully changing the subject. "I’m gonna get a jacket."

He was going to argue, but you were already walking off, telling him you’d take the emergency ladder down.

Nothing was spoken about that night. No words were exchanged.

But something had changed. Something had shifted. You weren’t quite sure what it was, but it was something.

So, seeing that genuine smile again in that elevator was a shock.

He had the same face as he did on that roof. It was that smile. That one specific smile.

Capable.

That's what it was.

He was capable.

He was capable of feeling and being human. He was capable of being something other than a monster.

He was capable.

All he said to you when you walked by was a simple goodnight. Something so small, yet so big. This time, those words seemed to have a little more meaning.

So, just to raise his unsettling mood, you winked and said, "Goodnight, John."

Again, a smile.

The smile.

It was hard to continue walking, and it was even harder not to turn around. But you did.

You did it knowing you were going to have a hard time sleeping. Knowing that, no matter what, you weren’t going to forget that smile.

The demon that still had a little bit of humanity in him.

A demon that was capable.

[scififettuccine]

Homelander x SupeTeen!Reader

Idk ya'll Homie has really been getting on my nerves recently. I wasn't exactly sure where I was going with this one at first, but I LOVE the way it turned out. It was a doozy but it was SO FUN to write! This isn’t proof read just yet so please don’t yell at me💀

Summary: You meet your biological father for the first time at Vought Tower after your adoptive mother's unexpected passing...he's not exactly what you expected.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Homelander (Obviously), death of a parental figure, mentions of death, manipulation tactics, awkward parental conversations???

Being a Supe had never been easy for you, though, luckily you had never been forced to live in a lab. Soon after you were born, one of the Vought scientists had taken you in as her own, -due to the fact that your biological mother had died during childbirth- directly going against Vought's policies. She was found out eventually, to no one's surprise...but this breach in policy gave headway to a new experiment. So, she was allowed to keep you and raise you as her own. You were raised as any other child would be, but you were treated with extra caution...and being the only Supe in school wasn't exactly a cake walk. But the worst thing you had experienced was a little bullying, but your doting, caring, adoptive mother put an end to that rather quickly by talking with the school board. The first 15 years of your life were...tolerable, if not ideal. It was supposed to stay that way...until your mother was found dead at her place of work.

It had only been two weeks since your mother died. In those two weeks, you had been relocated and told, verbatim, that your father was one of the most iconic Supes in the world...Homelander. Now? You were sitting in The Seven's meeting room at Vought Tower, anxiously toying with the handle of the swivel chair you were sitting in. Part of you was still just...numb. Everything you had ever known had been ripped away from you seemingly overnight. Any other child would be over the moon...but you? You were just...detached. You were pulled out of the endless depths of your own thoughts when a voice echoed off the walls of the room.

"Hey there, kiddo!"

You looked up from your anxious fiddling, and were met with the blindingly white smile of your biological father. You did your best to give a convincing smile back, sitting up a bit straighter in your seat. His presence wasn't exactly the most comforting. He tilted his head to the side a bit when you didn't respond.

"You're Y/N...Right? Hopefully we didn't get the wrong kid...that would be awkward, wouldn't it?" Homelander asked with a laugh. He sort of stopped in the center of the room, looking you up and down, like he was trying to evaluate you...to decide your worth. You nod sheepishly.

"Yeah...yeah. That's me." It honestly didn't help that you were the age that you were...it made it more awkward somehow. Homelander didn't say anything for a moment, almost like he was waiting for you to say something else. When you didn't, he sort of chuckled.

"You're not very talkative, are you?" He asked. You had opened your mouth to respond, but he cut you off. "I guess that's understandable. Meeting your old man for the first time is no small feat..." He paused for a moment as he evaluated your expression. "I'm sorry to hear about your mom...tough stuff there, kiddo." You took a breath when he mentioned your mother. It was all so fresh...and there were so many things you had recently learned that she had never told you. You didn't even know she wasn't your biological mother until after she died.

"Mmm...Don't be sorry...not your fault."

Oh, the unknown irony of that statement.

Homelander let out a small scoff and frowned. Admittedly, the frown looked incredibly fake...almost like he was mocking you.

"Still...I can't imagine what you must be feeling. I mean, to find out that she was keeping so much from you...after she died...? That must pack an even worse punch." You sort of stiffened in your seat. You weren't exactly stupid...you could read his tone. He was hiding his insults towards your mother with a cruel, mock sympathy.

"She only did it to protect me...I know she did. She wasn't a bad mom, she was amazing, actually." You respond, almost matter-of-factly, your eyes glowing red ever so slightly. "I know raising a Supe couldn't have been easy for her...she had her reasons." It was incredibly hard to talk about your mother in any way, considering she had only died two weeks ago. Homelander sensed your tone, and put his hands up as he noticed the flicker of light in your eyes. It suddenly became clear to him that you couldn't control your powers, which almost made him smirk.

"Hey now, of course she was...Absolutely no hard feelings towards your mom...But I know I would have never kept things from you like that. And registering you at a public school, knowing you're a Supe? That's just...cruel." You were going to continue defending your mother...until he mentioned school. That was something you couldn't exactly convince yourself was a great move on your mom's part.

"School was...a different story. It was rough." You said, pulling your legs up onto the swivel chair so you could hold your knees to your chest. Homelander nodded as he took a few steps closer to you, his hands now at rest behind his back.

"So I've heard...I spoke to your therapist." That comment turned your stomach a bit. Wasn't everything you spoke about with your therapist supposed to be confidential? Homelander noticed the slight change in your expression. "Don't worry, Y/N...I didn't dig into any of the gritty teenager things..." He chuckled, "I was just curious to learn about your school situation. You're a sophomore now, right?"

"Yeah...I will be. In the fall." You said quietly. Homelander smiled, where he now stood beside your chair at the point of the uniquely shaped table.

"Well that's fun, isn't it?" He asked as he pulled out one of the other swivel chairs and pulled it towards him. "One more year and then you're one of the big dogs." You nodded, watching his movements as he sat down, facing you. Everything about him just seemed so...strange. Even the way he moved. It looked almost calculated...and was mildly unsettling.

"I guess..." You said quietly. You sighed as you rested your chin on your knees, grabbing onto the table to reluctantly turn your chair to face his...it was only polite.

"You don't seem too thrilled..." He started, his blue eyes meeting the identical set that you possessed, "Was school really that bad?" That was more of a rhetorical question on his part, he knew everything about you.

"The teasing sucks...They call me 'Laser Eyes'..." Homelander stifled a laugh when you said that, to which you narrowed your eyes.

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry!" He said with a chuckle, "That is the stupidest insult I've ever heard!" Homelander took a moment to stop laughing before he looked back to you. "Look. I'm not laughing at you, kiddo. I would never. But Laser Eyes...? Really? They couldn't come up with anything more original? I mean...Even I'd be hesitant to insult you considering you could just laser them in half." He said. His smile was almost manic looking.

"What?" You asked, almost dumbfounded. "I would never...I could never." You said. You pulled your chin off your knees, your eyes still narrowed.

"Why couldn't you? You're a Supe...aren't you? I mean...mommy swooping in and bribing administration to take disciplinary action against those little shit stains isn't exactly making you out to be the strongest person..." You almost immediately sat up correctly in your chair.

"She bribed the administration...?" You ask softly. Homelander gave a mock frown as he noticed your eyes become glossy.

"You didn't know? Gosh...How much was she keeping from you?" You swallowed as he spoke and tried your best not to cry. The last person you wanted to look pathetic in front of was Homelander...Especially considering his earlier comment about it not being a good look that your mom always had to swoop in and save you. "Awe..." He started, scooting his chair closer to yours. "Don't cry kiddo...It's not your fault that you're so lost...It's hers." Your eyes met his once again, a tear slipping down your cheek, which you quickly reached up to wipe away.

"Lost?" You ask. Homelander nodded.

"Well, most Supes your age, with your abilities usually already have a professional presence...Or at least know how to use their powers correctly." He said, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly. "I mean, had I raised you? Had you not been wrongfully stolen from me after you were born? You'd already have a place in the Supe community, followers...maybe even a contract with Vought. You wouldn't just be floating in your own little bubble...You'd have a group. A family." Something in you broke when he spoke. Your mother had stolen you from your biological father? And had he raised you, you wouldn't be so...you? So lonely and misplaced? You couldn't help the tears that slid down your cheeks. It was as if your entire life had been flipped upsidedown.

"She...S-she really kept all that from me?" You asked. Homelander tutted softly, almost pitying you. He stood up and held out his arms.

"Come here, kiddo..." He said softly, with a tone of empty sympathy. You almost immediately stood up and buried your head in his chest. At this point....What else did you have? Who else did you have? He chuckled softly as he wrapped his arms around you, his hug firm, considering he was so much larger than you...yet comforting, despite the strange material of his suit.

'It's alright, Y/N...You're right where you need to be. We'll get you up and running with those powers of yours in no time..." He said softly, resting his chin on top of your blonde hair. He caught the reflection of the two of you in the large window that lit the room and his grip tightened, almost possessively. "You're not alone anymore...got it? You've got your dad to keep you company..." You nodded against his chest, sniffling.

"Got it." You responded softly, hugging him a bit tighter. Maybe this wasn't so bad. Maybe Homelander, no, your father was what was best for you. How could you have been living in the dark for so long without realizing it...? You were truly lost. But everything was okay now. You were finally safe, in your fathers embrace.

Homelander smiled wickedly at his own reflection in the window before he rested his cheek on your head. Finally...he had you. His own child that he had been trying to get his bloody hands on for years...Losing another Vought scientist was a necessary sacrifice in the bigger picture of his perfect narrative...and it all started right here. With you. His child. He smiled as he pulled away from the hug, his hands gently squeezing your shoulders.

"How does a milkshake sound, huh? I know Planet Vought has a double chocolate one that's yummers." You smiled and nodded as he moved his thumb to wipe the tears from your cheeks.

"I love chocolate." You said with a small laugh. Homelander chuckled as he turned you towards the door of the meeting room and started walking, his firm hand on your shoulder urging you forward.

"I know."

————————————————————————

I hope ya’ll enjoyed! I left it open for more parts so totally let me know if you’d be interested in reading more. Writing for Homes is always a questionable adventure 💀 Until next time, Adieu!

[nobitchs-world]

If you’re gonna make a smut fic please specify which sexual acts that will be in it I don’t want to be surprised attacked by a nigga getting his butt fingered

[reveluving]

can i go rabid in your inbox…not a request just imagine billy x reader x kessler…🥴 the contrast of billy being rough but ultimately wanting you to feel good and finish, and kessler being faux sympathetic ‘aww, you poor thing :(((‘ and keeping it just out of reach…hell yeah

- the benny/rick puffing out chests anon (i still go back and read that! 🩵)

me: *sighing, opening the kessler gdoc I already had and scrolling to the bottom because you know damn well I’d elaborate on this. and a girl’s gotta eat too!!*

addict ; billy butcher x reader x joe kessler

includes: s~mut obv (minors DNI!)

a/n: okay but HOLY SHIT, BENNY/RICK CHEST PUFFING ANON??? IT’S BEEN WHAT, TWO YEARS SINCE THAT ASK? bless you, hun! I sincerely hope you’re doing well, please know I giggled and kicked my feet in my bed to this, and the fact that you still come back to the rick series!! 😭❤️

fancy reading something new? check out my full m.list!

smut includes: mm4f, size kink, ‘softer’!dom butcher & slightly meaner!dom kessler are equally nasty, petnames, dirty talking, cunnilingus, edging, overstimulation, sq~uirting, voyeurism & exhibitionism, spanking (once), brief mentions of age gap (legal & consenting!!), bj & unprotected s~ex (p in v), butcher & kessler are absolutely obsessed over you!!

Butcher had an obsession with the way you moaned in his ear as he had you on your back. His large frame concealed yours as his hips moved, his thrusts deep but his pace torturously slow. Like Kessler, he loved how your voice pitched higher each time he bottomed out into you, begging him to let you cum in incoherent murmurs. Seeing his team’s pretty little ace writhing underneath his old buddy was almost as exhilarating as any combined operation he had ever faced. 

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Butcher cooed condescendingly, tilting your head up by your jaw so Kessler, who was lazily pumping his cock as he sat on the chair he had dragged beside the bed could see your tears. If your eyes weren’t brimming with tears, blocking both your vision and mind, you would’ve tried to avert your gaze from Kessler’s heated ones. 

“Billy, please…” You sobbed. 

Butcher was dying to have you when it all started, and he would’ve had you first but he wanted to drag your orgasm. Make you yearn for release, only to cry out in frustration ever so cutely each time he slowed his pace, and despite what one would believe, he would’ve surrendered to your cries much quicker, giving you what you, or at the very least, teasing you just a little bit longer before giving you what you needed then and there. Offering you sweet kisses and even sweeter reassurance as he kissed your neck. 

But Kessler wanted to put your limitations to the test, and you knew you were in for a wild ride when he suggested it with a playful glint in his eye. 

Even so, he took great consideration for your well-being, immediately asking Butcher for the safeword and both of them reminding you to use it if you ever needed to stop at any point. A calm before the storm, before he pushed you onto the bed and restrained you with his arms on your thighs, then latched his lips onto your sensitive clit. 

When Kessler had you on your back, flicking his tongue along your lips and grumbling into your pussy, causing your legs to tense and tremble, Butcher sat by your head. Leaning in to kiss wherever his lips could reach, praising you with zero filter while his hands alternated between roaming your luscious body to holding your hands to your head each time Kessler’s tongue had you particularly jumpy. 

“Y'hear that?” Kessler lightly slapped your pussy, his fingers covered in your slick and his saliva the more he patted your sensitive bud. He and Butcher shared a chuckle, and you would’ve attempted to shut your legs if not for Kessler’s adamant grip.

Butcher needed in, so he sat behind you, pulling you onto his lap so he could be with you as physically close as possible. 

With Kessler’s fingers glistening with your juices, he offered his digits to your lips.

“Go on,” Butcher rasped in your ear as brushed his beard along your shoulder, “Taste y’self, so you’ll know why I love tongue fuckin’ you just as much as he does.”

And one thing led to another, after Kessler edged you for a while, topped with the way Butcher squeezed your tits and had the audacity to tell you not to cum just yet, you were already mush in their arms. It wasn't until you looked up at Butcher with your glossy, puppy dog eyes that he convinced Kessler to spare you the torture. 

But with how long they refused your orgasm, you couldn’t control the spurt that had the men who worshipped you the way America did with their golden boy laughing and cheering for your release.

“‘Atta girl,” Kessler praised, swiping and stimulating your sensitive folds to force the very last droplets of your juices into his mouth and chin, “Atta girl.”

You were practically melting in Butcher’s arms, letting him kiss your cheek, jaw and neck before turning your head to press his lips onto yours. 

Kessler’s stubble tickled your thighs and hipbone, his calloused hands slowly sliding up your body before reaching for your hand. You felt his lips against the pads of your fingers before bringing them in between your legs. You felt Butcher smile against your lips when you whined at the embarrassing squelch, but they perked up at the noise.

“Up.” Butcher murmured as soon as he pulled away. You blinked sluggishly, seeing his eyes dart to your fingers. You brought your hand to his face and he immediately wrapped his lips around your fingers, unabashed with the sounds of suckling and groaning that mingled with Kessler’s. You were practically clenching around nothing, and before you could voice out your frustration, Butcher captured your lips with his once more, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

“Feels nice, right?” Kessler smiled when you practically jerked at his knuckle nudging at your clit. You weren’t even sure if he was asking you or Butcher, “Just gotta tough it out, bud.”

“Shut it.” Butcher scoffed, but God, did he need you and he needed you now.

Butcher shot Kessler a glare when the latter playfully slapped your ass, though they both knew Butcher didn’t mind it one bit. Not when you let out an irresistible yelp, a reaction they hoped to hear more when they switched places, with Butcher already in Kessler’s place, but not before removing his pants while Kessler decided to sit back. As much as he wanted to feel you once more, he didn’t want to miss any of your reactions if he were to ever lose himself in his own pleasure. 

He knew he’d have just as much fun watching you front row seats, plus, he already had more plans for you soon. Whether he was going to have you once Butcher had his fill of you or if he would be impatient enough that he’d stand or kneel next to you so he could feel your perfect lips around his cock was uncertain. 

But with how addictive you were, he and Butcher knew none of them could wait to have you whole.

a/n: I hope y’all enjoyed this little piece of our two hunks. it’s pwp ‘cause do we REALLY need a reason to go to town with them? SHIT I wanna hear more about them or at least kessler 😩 pls don’t forget to leave some sugar! ;; gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

[izzydracula]

MDNI!!

Note: there are descriptions of afab genitalia. This is my VERY FIRST SMUT. Also I don't know what that ending is I'm sorry

Literally the same scenario has been running through my head for WEEKS.

Picture this, being in a poly relationship with Logan Howlett and Billy Butcher. We all know that they're both dominant as fuck. They would absolutely control your orgasms.

Anyway, Billy is walking upstairs to the apartment you all share after a long day of chasing supes (ironic innit?). Once he gets to the top of the stairs he hears your voice. Though muffled, it's still sweet and melodic to his ears, making his heart rate rise even more. As he gets closer to the door, the clearer your voice became. It was whiny, the volume of it increasing with every passing second.

He knew what you were up to behind that closed door, and he wasn't happy. You could have whatever your heart desired, whenever you wanted it. He made sure of that and Logan did too. Their only rule was they had to provide you with that sweet release by any means necessary. Even though he could feel the frustration build within him over the fact that you disobeyed both of them, he couldn't help the straining in his pants as he turned the doorknob. Relishing the state he would find you in when he caught you red handed.

As he walks into the apartment, he spies the couch that faces away from him, only being able to see the top of your head. But he's more interested in the symphony of wet squelching accompanying your now breathy moans. He can only imagine how deep your fingers are reaching, how fast you're fucking yourself with them to make such delectable noises.

Logan isn't with you, as far as he can tell because the your living space is far to quiet, save for the sounds your wet hole is making. Logan is feral when it came to you. He's not ashamed that he loses all control too.

"Alrigh' Daddy's home and he ain't too hap-" he begins in a strict tone, as he comes to face the side of the couch. Mesmerized by the view before him. There you are, legs pressed against your chest, with Logan's mouth suctioned to your clit, fucking you with his fingers at a brutal pace. He could feel his cock start to throb by now.

You lull your head to look at him and Logan does his best to turn to the sound of his voice, but you've got a death grip on what you've deemed Logan's 'kitty ears' to keep him in place. And even from that angle Billy can see how black Logan's eyes have become. Blown pupils blown out with lust.

"Well, poppet, what 'ave we here?" His infamous smirk adorning his face. He cradles yours and runs a thumb across your bottom lip.

"How'd you get Wolvie 'ere to keep 'is trap shut? Can never stop growlin' and groanin' when he's buried face first in that sweet cunt." After he says this Logan finally is able to get you to let up in his scalp, breaking free of your grasp just for a moment.

"I could hear you coming up the stairs. We wanted you riled up, ain't that right bub?" Logan asks you, your juices visible on his lips and chin.

"Fuckin' supes."

"

[thewritersaddictions]

Day Nine: Billy Butcher + Stripping/Lacatation

Your belly made it hard to see things as you walked or even just sat down on the couch. Your feet completly covered by the round belly proturding out. At this point you were seven months in to your first pregnancy with Billy.

He loved you unconditional, and you loved him that same way. With every error, or hard thing that might have happened to your relationship you were always there for each other.

The idea child came after at your suggest you did years of fostering. Many child had come and lived with the two of you and as those years went on you saw a rather wonderful, caring side of Billy that you were very excited to see. It wasn't something he didn't show you, just the caring, kind side of him made your heart melt and get you all giddy.

Regardless you were in your third trimenster, and everything hurt you were hot all the fucking time. You had been reading almost every single book about the third trimester. Unlike what they said your sex drive hadn't fallen.

Your sex drive had only increased. You yearned for Billy's rough callused handsto drag down your skin. Yearning for the feeling of Billy slipping right back into your pussy. That thoughts had been running through your head for the past few days. You hadn't seen Billy something about needing to go on business.

But now you as you heard the garage door open, the car drive in and the key jingle in the lock. Your thighs rubbed together with antipiaction.

"Hello love." Billy voice slurred in. He was drunk, not to far gone for you to launch yourself on him. You waited, really you weren't able to move. That's why you waited. "Babe, where are at?" He yelled, "Living room." You yelled back.

Heavy boots landed on the hardwoods floors, and the hooded eyes that landed on you. Black eye that are all consuming. You opted that night for a loose white robe and unaware of Billy drunkness you wore nothing underneath it.

"Well Fuck aren't you such a beaut." Billy muttered. I watched as he clusimly tried to untie his boots, and take off his jacket. Sure he smelt of bourbon, but I didn't really care. "You look so good laying there." Billy muttered as he sat down next to you. You giggle and lbushed at his words.

Even though your ankles were swollen, and you were mostly unkept. You let Billy's words go to your head. Then his callused hands were on your hot body. Cold in contrast to your hot body. Not only were you overly hot all of the time, but you were also very sensitive.

When Billy's lips touched your jaw shivers went down your body. It didn't take long for Billy's hand to come raking up your body, and shift you so fast you felt so pressure on your body. Within a matter of seconds you were on your hands and knees facing away from Billy.

"Fuck, and no panties. What a fuckin' dirty girl." He mutters agasint your skin, and then the sound of his trouser zipper falling down. The seconds the tip of his cock hits your wet pussy moans come falling out of your mouth. You hadn't felt his cock in such a long time. "So fuckin' tight love." Billy groaned out as he thursted harder into your pussy. The harder Billy thursted the more he needed to hold on to you.

He grabbed your tits, hard and with the motion of squeezing and tugging. You weren't even thinking, not until Billy was groaning and laughing behind you. "Look down baby girl." He commanded you, and when you did your cheeks went red with lust, and embrassement.

"Look at you leaking all over the couch, makin' such a mess for me." Billy groaned out as his thursts began to get harder. "So tight whenever I tug on your tits like this. Fuck I bet I can fuck another baby into ya." Billy accent was sending ripples down your body. Finally his words, and thurst started to slow.

The slap of skin, groaning, and moaning was all that filled the room. Finally the edge came like the end of a waterfall. Everything all at once felt like heaven, and you were floating on cloud nine.

Billy made sure not to put all his weight on you, and he brought you up and into his lap.

Hot, sticky, and over filled with contentment.

Completed on: 06/27/23

Posted on: 10/09/23

Kinktober 23- @lanad3lreyscokewhor3 @homelanderscumdump @hummusxx@chvnsdimple @vvitzvafflezvv @lokisivy @claud-blood0703 @iliketoreads-stuff @all-that-glitters-is-treasure@clearscissorsbonkgiant-blog @lxonix--ac @piecesofx @mortallyswimmingpainter @playwithfire99 @fucak @everythingneytiri @lovetheos @xxxxxoseungxoooo @durazopato @hotpead42069 @oddseabiscuit @capoda @witching-hour @viviwows @lover103 @alexlovesfiction @katiecat10 @electricfans @jianasmind @max-505 @powerbun21o @the-horny-simp @missy420-0 @jaq-dav @arescosplays

The Boys Master List // The Anti-Hero Master List // Kinktober '23

[cheynovak]

Tale as old as time  

Reader x Soldier Boy 

Warnings:  Well, it’s soldier boy. Where to start... Smut, Fluff, Drugs, Cursing, Voilence, ...  

Side note: English isn’t my first language.  

Words: 6003 😮  

POV: Y/N is Soldier Boys first girlfriend who turned into a supe not long after Soldier boy with compound V. Vought made her out to be his enemy, so he had no choice but killing her. But years later the boys discover she is still alive and maybe the only supe on this planet to take down Soldier boy and homelander. 

Side note: Cursive text are memories 

Have fun!

 

----------------------- 

Pennsylvania: 1939 

 

“Y/N? Y/N! Where are you going? Wait up!” Ben yelled at her trying to follow her but the crowd in at the fair made it difficult. Y/N ran towards the Ferris wheel, she looked back but didn’t see Ben following. “Got you!” He said while lifting her up turning around. ”BEN!” she screeched laughing. When he got her steady on the ground, she lifted her hands towards his neck kissing him on his cheek. “I need to go.” Ben said. “Can’t we at least have one last ride in the wheel?” She asked with big deer eyes. Defeated by her charm he nodded.  

 

“Do you really have to go?” She asked with a soft voice. “It’s the only way to make my old man proud, sweetheart.” he said pulling her in his arms. “I don’t think this is the answer Ben, you could get hurt, or worse!” She really is worried about him he thought. “What? Afraid I find a new best girl?” He joked trying to lift the mood. She poked his ribs “Not funny! I serious Benjamin!” The wheel stopped and the two young love bird got out. As a true gentleman Ben brought Y/N home. They shared a kiss, the last one for a long time Ben thought. “Ben?” She looked up is his green eyes asking to follow her so she took his hand and leaded him behind the house towards the shed where her parents couldn’t see them. “You know I'm yours, right?” He nodded. “Will you make yours tonight?” She asked clearly looking shy. Ben’s eyes grew big. “Are, are you sure?” He asked. She kissed him passionately in response. “Just, just take it slow, ok?”  

Y/N woke up startled, looking over at Patrick, her fiancé. Who was still deep asleep. So, she quietly got out of bed and got to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water. Why the hell did that memory sneaked up in her dreams. Probably the nerves for the wedding she thought. No one has seen Ben in ages, he is probably gone or much like herself had found love and settled down. But she couldn’t help herself got to the spare bedroom and pull up the old shoe box with pictures and other memories. There was one picture of Ben, fully dressed in his “Soldier boy” costume. God, she hated that helmet, made it impossible to see those cute freckles. After looking at his eyes for who knows how long she got herself back in bed. Lifting Patrick’s arm and hugging him. He mumbled something unrecognisable and pulled her closer.  

The next morning Y/N was extremely tired, she didn’t get any sleep anymore last night. “Good morning beautiful.” Patrick kissed her on her cheek as he did every morning. They had breakfast, he kissed her before he got to work. Patrick was a lawyer he made enough money to take care for the two of them. So, when they officially began dating, he asked Y/N to be a housewife. He meant well, he knew her backstory and thought she deserved some peace. She agreed, but after last night she had this hinge that maybe she wasn’t born to be a housewife.  

But the dream couldn’t stop the daily tasks. Y/N grabbed her purse and drove to the grocery store. When she came back, she noticed someone was inside her house. She quickly grabbed the gun from the glove box and went inside the house via the back door. Her house was a mess, cabinets open, shelfs empty... One of the skinnier men came down. “Oh god! Oh god. Please don’t shoot! BUTCHER, she is home!” He yelled before Y/N knock him out with the gun. The other two man came running down both holding a gun. “Listen I don’t know what you two idiots think you’re doing, but you picked the wrong house buddy!” Y/N said. “Now drop the gun!”  

“Oi, were not looking for any trouble princess.” He said lowering his gun.” Or should I say Ms. Y/N Frances Wilson.” He smirked saying your name, your true birth name, you haven’t heard in years. “How do you...know?” she looked shocked. Butcher and MM started to explain they were looking for something to kill Homelander and possibly Soldier Boy. And that Annie found secret records at Vought that stated that you were the only person who ever won a fight against Soldier boy.  

“Wait, wait you’re telling me Ben is still alive?” You looked at Hughie since he was the only person in the room you seemed to trust a little. “Oh, we’re on first name basis?” The annoying British fella said. Y/N gave him a dead stare side eye. “Listen buddy, if you have my records, you know that “Soldier boy” and I go way back. Y/n said pissed.  

“Oh my god! What happened here! Y/N are you ok?” Patrick walked through the door. “Who are you?!” he looked over at the men. “Honey, it’s ok these are... who are you again?”  

Hughie explained everything to Patrick who looked at him with fear in his eyes. “Baby, If these supes really are that dangerous, we need to help them.” “Pat, I promised you I would never, ever enter that life again.” She looked at MM “I will tell you all I know on Soldier boy. But that’s it. I’m no supe anymore” - “Well, that’s just utter bull shit isn’t. The 1st badge of fucking Russian compound V is running through your veins.” Butcher said. “No, no, no, you are coming with us princess. If we know where to find you so will Homelander.” “Let him come, I doubt that, that clown in a cape is much worth.”  

“Against you, maybe.” MM said. “But what with Patrick?” With a heavy heart you agreed to go with the boys. In the car her thoughts drifted away.  

WW2 ended, Ben was coming home, the town made sure he would get a parade. Y/N was nervous it had been a few years. Sure, he did send her letters every now and then, but as time moved on, she received less and less until the communication stopped completely. In one of the first letters, he had sent a picture of him fitting his costume. He looked proud, with a great smile. It had her fall in love all over again. Y/N stood at the back of the sidewalk, watched as Ben drove by waving at the people. He saw her, she knew, he grinned but made sure the other people there wouldn’t notice. Y/N went home after the parade, while she was painting her nails her mom called her. “Sweetheart, get dressed, Benjamin called, he is picking you up for dinner with his folks.” Your heart pounded, he didn’t forget you. You mother thought you were a madwoman not to date nice decent men while he was gone. She wanted her daughter to get married and start a family, like any other parent wanted in those times. And not to wait on a “superhero” who once liked her daughter, who now probably could have any woman.  

Y/N chose a beautiful green dress that matched her curves, it was fitting but not tacky, her nails were boudoir red as were her lips and heels. Perfect contrast with her dress. The doorbell rang. Her father answered the door before she could came down the stairs. Ben was still wearing his costume, probably to impress your folks but thank God, he didn’t wear the helmet. He watched you come down the stairs. “Wow.” he said “breathtaking.” clearly impressed. He held your hand and helped you with the last steps. He kissed you soft on the lips. You were a little stunned by that move, because this was something he would have never done before he got to the army. Your parents were old school he knew that.  

You got into the car, surprisingly he had a driver now. “My lady.” he said holding the door. At first the ride was silent. You stared at him. “Like what you’re seeing, sweetheart?” he grinned looking you up and down, it made you blush. “It’s just, you have changed so much and yet you haven’t.” “So have you.” The dinner wasn’t really a cosy gathering, Ben told his parents and you every detail.  His dad wasn’t impressed with what his son had achieved.” You took a short cut. There were normal man fighting, those are hero’s not some pumped up boy who hasn’t achieved anything in this life.”  

You could see Ben’s lip twitch. “Ben? I think it’s time for me to go home.” Y/N said to help him get out of the house. Once outside “Unbelievable, I did everything I could for that man and I’m still not good enough.” He kept rambling. “Ben, STOP!” He looked at you. “Stop with caring what your father thinks of you.” you said while taking his hand. “He doesn’t know you, not the way I do.”  

 

“Hi, soldier boy.” Two girls giggled from a crossed the street waving at him. Ben answered their flirtations with an over-the-top grin and nod while he checked them out just a little to long for your liking. He turned back to you and saw your expression. “He kissed your cheek, don’t worry sweetheart you’re the one for me.” The car ride was silent once again you almost reach your parents house. “Can you pull over, right here? And give us a minute?” You asked the driver.  

Ben looked at you, the second the driver got out of the car did Ben pull you closer to him and kissed you. Not a soft kiss, no, a passioned kiss his tongue aggressively asking for permission. His hands travelling from your neck over your breast kneading them. “Ben, is this really the best place?” Y/N asked while pulling back. Ben didn’t move back but moved his lips from your mouth to your neck. “You have a better idea sweetheart, was the shed a better place?” He asked out of breath, clearly aroused. You didn’t feel comfortable with his roughness. “Ben stop, please.” - “Oh, come on baby, don’t tell me you’ve didn’t dream of me. That you didn’t think of that night while you touch yourself.”  

That was the line he crossed. “BENJAMIN STOP IT! Get off me! You yelled while slapping his face. Y/N got out of the car Ben shorty following her. “Y/N... Y/N! Stop I’m sorry.” he grabbed her arm. “Look at me sweetheart.” You turned around with tears in your eyes. “Oh baby, I'm sorry, it just, I just, it’s been a while.” You look at him shocked by his words. “You’ve changed Ben. You’re a brute. Maybe if you, I don’t know at least had a normal conversation with me before you started groping me.” - “What I, can’t touch my own girl?” - “Of course, you can, it’s the way you do it Ben, any other man...” But he didn’t let you finish. “Other man? Is there another man Y/N? Did you get the tasted of it after I left. Did you turn to someone else for pleasure.”  

“I can’t believe you! I wanted to say: any other man would at least consider HER feelings.” He dropped his head understanding what she meant. “Goodnight Ben.” She said leaving him in the street. The next day he had to leave for another parade in a different city but not before he went to see Y/N.  

Y/N’s dad answers the door “She doesn’t want to see you kid.” You hear him say. “Please Sir, I need to speak to her.” Ben sounded devastated. “Y/N! I know you’re here. Y/N I’m sorry! Please come talk to me.” - “Boy you are testing my patients, go away, I don’t know what happened last night, but she doesn't want to see you. - “Bullshit!” You heard Ben’s voice turn into anger. He pushed your old man aside an ran up the stairs. Y/N met him halfway standing taller than him. “Baby, please.” He said while hugging you, his head against your stomach. “I want you to go Ben.” Y/N said between her tears. “I don’t know what they did to you, but you are not the same man anymore. I want you to leave.”  

‘Y/N no, you don’t mean it. Y/N please!  

Y/N .... Y/N....’ 

Y/N!!!! Butchers voice leaps you out of the memory. “We’re here” Hughie smiled softy seemingly scared. Y/N didn’t know what it was but this kid, she liked him. He had something pure in his eyes. Once inside Y/N and Patrick meet the other members. They all seemed on edge.  

 

“What the fuck is she doing here?” That voice... you slowly turned around. Ben was standing there in baseball shirt and sweatpants “Oh, god!” But before you could say more, he stormed towards you lifting you up by your neck. “I’ll ask again, what, is she, doing here?” Y/N wanted to answer but couldn’t without air. Ben looked for a second at Patrick, clearly not impressed by him. Y/N kicked Ben to his knee he let her go. But not without trying to hitting her. She luckily could avoid it and pushed him away. “I had no idea you would be here!” She said lifting her hands in the air. “You are the fucking commie that made me a lab rat!” - “Ben that’s not true! I tried to fucking save you from your so-called girlfriend!” - “Bullshit you helped them!”  

“She is telling the truth, according to Voughts records did Noir and Countess quit the number on her. They left her a massive scar on her back. Before they shipped her back of to Russia, where you were held, a cargo she escaped.” Hughie said.

“It’s true Ben, when I heard what they did to you in '84, I tried to find you, I swear!” He got closer, grabbing her neck looking intensely at her. But Y/N pulled back looking over at Patrick. Ben followed her eyes. “Who is he?” - “My fiancé. Patrick”  

“Your Fian...” He couldn’t finish that sentence. ”Why? Did he got you pregnant?” He laughs looking at you. Even though he meant is a joke he glanced at your tummy. “No Ben, we love each other. Besides you know supes don’t have the best track record on getting pregnant.” You said walking over to Patrick. “No, but we sure loved to try.” He winked at you making Patrick uncomfortable. 

Butcher, MM and Annie were going through your files. Annie glanced over at Y/N and asked “Hey, it stated here you weren’t a supe until after 1949? But they never clarified what happened.  

 

 Y/N was walking to her job, when a van pulled over. Two men who didn’t spoke English pulled her in. A week later she woke up in some sort of a hospital. Couple of needles in her arms. The man said in broken English that this might hurt, but that she would become the most powerful humans on the planet, the perfect weapon. And who else can hurt Soldier boy better than his first love. 

Y/N tolt the team what tests they did after they pumped her full of compound V. “Or at least the Russian version of it.” She said. “After that...” She fell silent.  

“After that they erased her memories. Trained her to be a fucking assassin. And sent her after me.” Ben said quietly from a crossed the room not even looking up from the tv. 

“He is right. I trailed him all crossed the country to kill him. And I remember every second of it. I just couldn’t stop myself.”  

Ben woke up in a fancy hotel room, he looked over his bed, smirking when he realised there were still 3 women in his bed from last night. He got up, put on a rope, snored a line and drank the rest of the whiskey he had last night. He heard a noise coming from the hallway. Before he could take a look, the door broke down. An assassin dressed in black attack him. The women screamed when Ben was holding the intruder against the wall. “Run you fucking stupid sluts!” He yelled at them before they ran away behind Ben. “Now who are you?” Ben took of the intruder's mask. He couldn’t believe his eyes. “Y/N???” That moment of hesitation was enough for her to escape his hands.  

After more than an hour going back and forward, Ben hit her she felt out of the window 5 floors down. He looked but she didn’t move. Every now and then their pads crossed. They fight no one wins, one of them got hurt and they would meet again. It became an obsession with finding each other. Vought even named her a super villain. Until one day Y/N had found him again on vacation in Rome. Ben got tired of the constant fighting he wanted answers. He had her tied down and tried to find answers. But no matter what she didn’t talk. He got so frustrated he hit her in de head with his shield. She went unconscious but when she woke up. Ben was still sitting in front of her. “Ben? Oh god Ben!” she started to cry.  

 

Ben had hit her so hard so many times that for some reason the trauma had brought her back. At first he didn’t trust her. But after a while he released her. She told him everything that happened to her. “You should go. Celebrate new year” he said. “N-New year?” she looked shocked. “Sweetheart it’s 31 December.” - “What year?” - “1959”  

“Ten years...” she mumbled under her breath. “You have a place to go?” - “No, not really.” He nodded. Ben thought for a second then invited you to his party.  

Ben knuckled when thinking back at that night.  

 

It was an over-the-top party with world leaders, porn stars and drugs. Old Y/N would have been traumatized, supe you well, let’s say that this was a new beginning. Ben sat on the sofa with 2 girls almost fighting to get on his lap and he clearly enjoyed the attention, until he sees Y/N flirting with a guest. He was clearly trying to get into her pants. And she didn’t seem to mind. This got Ben furious, he got up without saying anything to the girls and walked towards them. You both looked at him. “Out” He said. “Out... EVERYBODY GET THE FUCK OUT!” Y/N tried to walk away with the crowd.  

Ben grabbed Y/N's arm. “Oh, not you sweetheart.” Y/N looked at his hand around her arm and got closer. “What’s the problem Ben? Are you the only one who is allowed fuck on this evening?”  

“Baby... where did you learn to talk like that!” He grinned “But no, no you are allowed to get fucked as well sweetheart. If I’m the one doing it.”  

 

For some reason that made Y/N’s panties soaking wet. She pushed Ben against the wall ripping his shirt in the process. His hand found their way to the back of her knees lifting her up throwing her on the bed. Y/N took off her dress, showing the red lingerie, slowly moving her hands all over her body before moving one hand down her panties, while sitting on her knees. Ben walked towards her pumping his hard cock,

“Fuck that’s hot sweetheart. Show me how wet you are.” She lifted her fingers in the air. Ben grabbed her wrist slowly licking her fingers clean. “Hm, so sweet.” He pushed he on her back taking of her panties. “I’ve missed this pussy, I’ve been wanting to fuck it, worship it ever since I came back from the war.” Y/N got inpatient. “Jesus fucking Christ, Ben are you going to talk me to sleep or are you going to fuck me?  

Ben licked a long stripe against Y/N heated sex. ‘Oh yesss!” She moaned letting her head fall back. Ben ate her like a man starved, then he entered a finger into her cunt, he could feel her enjoying it by the way she squeezed around it. “Fuck sweetheart, how long has it been since someone took care of you?” - Y/N had trouble finding words she could already feel the heat in her boiling. “Huh? Tell me, did you find a man back home? Someone to fuck you when your needy? Or did you take care of yourself?” Ben added another finger while licking your clit. You came so hard on his fingers that the wet sound of him going in and out of you would have normally made you embarrassed. After she screamed his name like a prayer she admitted. “Ben, there was no one. No one but you!” She said a little ashamed knowing he probably fucked half of USA by now. “You really are my girl...” Ben said while kissing her. Letting her take a breath before round 2, 3, 4 and 5 of that night. 

 

“Great fucking night.” He said looking at Y/N and Starlight grinning.  

 

“Why did he say that you were the reason for... you know.” Hughie asked. “Well, in 1970 was payback created. Up until then Ben and I lived together." “Wait, you never told me this.” Patrick said. “I knew he was your first boyfriend and that you fought in the 50s. Why didn’t you tell me? “ Y/N opened her mouth, but Ben was first. “Probably because she didn’t like to tell that after a decade of fighting came a decade of making up... sex.” Patrick closed his eyes, clearly disgusted by soldier boy.  

“As I was saying, 70s, payback, crimson countess.” You say irritated looking at Ben. “Those days, they made it hard on us. Vought didn’t like the idea of the number one hero being in a relationship with the person they called the number one villain. So, we had to keep our relationship a secret. Vought though it would be a great idea to promote Countess and Soldier boy as the it couple. Ben agreed, saying it was all just publicity. “ Ben, looked away. Y/N felt silent. “So, he cheated? “ Hughie asked. 

 

“NEVER! Ben got up this time, I never ever cheated, not on her!” He almost stood toe to toe with him. “Ben... Benjamin!” Y/N yelled standing up trying to defend Hughie who almost shit his pants. Ben looked at Y/N “I swear.” - “I know, but Crimson and Vought did find a way to separate us. They made false evidence that I would be recruited again by Russian spies to bring down Vought. "

I had no idea so when I asked Ben to let go of the suit.” - “He thought you wanted him to be on your side as a communist.” Annie finished your story. “Yes” Y/N said looking at Ben. “All I wanted was a normal life, no more fighting, no more Vought. The life I dreamed of since 1939” - “Well, seems like you finally get what you want sweetheart.” Ben said looking defeated.  

“Well, that’s enough bedtime stories, we need to go and get some supply's before hunting down your boysband.” Butcher said grinning at Ben. “Y/N you mind watching Ben for me? Since you are the only one who probably would actually stop him is he wanted to leave.” - “What about the rest of you?” Y/N asked meaning what about Patrick. “I need everyone, some things I can’t buy in a normal store because I'm wanted. Patrick is a nobody, perfect for the job.”  

In the car MM gave Patrick a phone. “I don’t know if you want it. But Frenchie and I placed a shitload of cameras in that place.  

Everyone left to do their job. Ben was sitting again, in front of the tv. But when Y/n got up to get something out of the kitchen he followed her. “Does he make you happy?” - “What?” - “Patrick, does he make you happy.” He asked again only this time standing so close to you, you could feel his breath against your neck. Y/N closed her eyes. “Yes, I guess so. I have the life I wanted.” She turned to face him locking eyes “I said yes, I'm getting married soon.” Ben breathed heavy while looking at her. He lifted a hand on her neck again, sliding his fingers through her hair toughing his forehead with hers.  

“God, Y/N please don’t.” Patrick said waiting in the car, looking at the camera footage.  

 

“Ben, please... don’t.” She closed her eyes afraid to look in his. “I learned my lesson sweetheart. “I won’t touch you unless you want me to.” He sighted but didn’t move back. “Does he satisfy you?”  

“BEN! That, that is none of your business!” She angry opened her eyes looking in his. She placed a hand on his chest to push him away, but couldn’t, instead she slowly moved her hand up to his cheek. Ben leaned into it. “I’ve missed those soft hands.”  

Y/N smiled slightly. “This beard, it suits you.” - “You like it?” he was surprised. “Very mature. Maybe even a little sexy.” Those worlds made Ben crazy. He lifted you up and placed you on the counter making him stand between your legs, kissing you like a madman, his hands all over Y/N, touching Y/N’s breast making her pull back out of the kiss and moan his name.  

Patrick didn’t want to watch anymore but couldn’t close it. He kept hoping Y/N would fight back. Tell Soldier boy that she loved him, that he had to let her go. Instead, he watched the two of them heading for the bedroom. “No no no no noooo.” Patrick switched camera. Thank got that MM placed one in Soldier boy’s room. “You can still say no baby.” Patrick said under his breath.  

“Fuck, say it again.” Ben said. “I want you, Ben” Y/N moaned while he was sucking her neck and ear. Ben lifted her up and took her to his room closing the door with his foot. He dropped Y/N onto the bed. “Clothes off!” He commanded “I would love to spend the next 48 hours just making love to you, reclaiming your body.” He said. “Ben we don’t have time for that.” Y/N said while pulling his sweatpants and boxers down. She placed herself on the bed. Pulling of her panties while Ben was still looking at her. Y/N opened her legs. “Are you going to stand there watching me pleasuring myself, or are you going to make me scream your name?” Y/N didn’t have to say that twice.  

Ben took his cock in his hands and started to push himself inside her. “Fuck! Your still so tight.” He said while being balls deep in her. He started to trust slow but deep and hard. Y/N lifted her legs over his shoulders so he could go even deeper. “Oh Ben! I forgot how big you were!” Y/N could feel that Ben with every trust hit the G spot inside her. “You were made for me sweetheart, your pussy was made for me to fuck.” Ben felt that he wouldn’t last long if he kept going like this. “Turn around baby. All four.” He said while pulling out of her. He harshly trusted back in her making her moan almost screaming his name. “That’s it baby, say my name.” He said while rubbing her clit. “Oh Ben, ... Don’t stop!” She moaned. Y/N could feel her orgasm building and so could Ben by the way she squeezed him.  

 

“Does he fuck you like this? Does he know how to make you scream his name? By the tightness of you pussy I would say you didn’t get fucked properly in a while.” Y/N loved the way Ben talked dirty.  “Maybe we should invite him, let him see how a real man fucks his lady.” Y/N’s pussy tightened. “Oh, you like that huh. You want him to see how I fuck you, how I know every little inch of your body.” Y/N couldn’t hold it anymore and started to shake into her orgasm screaming Ben’s name.  It didn’t take long before Ben’s trusts started to get sloppy. Y/N turned around and took his cock in her mouth bobbing her head, touching the tip of his cock with her tongue just the way he liked it. Ben leaned back holding her hair while releasing in her mouth.  

Patrick couldn’t believe what he had seen. He tried to find a way to make things better. It was pure sexual, yes that’s it. She doesn’t love him, she, they fucked it wasn’t making love. He tried to convince himself.  

Y/N laid back down on the bed. Ben did the same thing “Fuck that felt good.” He said looking at her on his side with his head in his hand. “Come here.” Ben said while pulling her in his arms Y/N’s head was locket under his chin and against his chest. Ben started to stroke his fingertips over her arms, up her back coming back to the front over her breast, holding one in his warm hand. “So fucking beautiful.” He whispered.  

It was quiet for a moment, now that Y/N was back to her senses she could only think of Patrick, what did she do to him. Patrick was a nice respectable man, he didn’t deserve this. But being here in Ben’s arms felt so right, so safe like coming home.  

“Leave him.” Ben said after a while to break the silence. “What?” Y/N got up looking shocked at him. “Leave him, run away with me.” He said with a straight face. “Ben you, no, I can’t. I’m getting married soon.” Y/N said but not with confidence. Ben got up and sat against the headboard of the bed. “Why? Because he gives you a home? A house with a white picket fence?” He asked while pulling Y/N into his lap, her knees on each side of his thighs. His lip started to slowly kiss the top of her breast before laying his head against her. His hands steady on her back.  

Ben could now feel her scars for the first time his fingers moved over them. “I should have never left you.” He whispered. “Well, I'm sure countess would have found a way.” Y/N said while her lips and cheek were touching his hair. “No, back in 1939, I should have married you, I should have been the man you wanted, deserved. Instead of joining the army.”  

He moved his head to look up at her. “I should have married you, made love to you every night until you were pregnant. Watch our kids grow up. Dance with you in the kitchen. Hell I would even take you to fucking Elvis Presley concerts if that is what you wanted.” That made Y/N laugh but tear up at the same time. “Ben...” Y/N sighted. He kissed her lips again only now he took his time. This kiss was one to make sure she felt loved. Ben pulled her closer, Y/N’s hands on the back of Ben’s head.  

Y/N felt Ben's cock getting half hard again. Both of them started to move their bodies in sync without even knowing. Ben pulled sightly back. “Y/N, I’ll give up the suit, I’ll won’t kill payback, I’ll even stop the booze and drugs. I’ll do anything for you as long as you promise you're mine again.” Y/N looked at his face, looked in his green eyes. “I’ve always been yours Ben.”  

MM got back in the car “Man, are you ok?” He looked at Patrick holding the phone. He rewind the last part and showed MM before the rest of the crew came back. “Y/N, I’ll give up the suit, I’ll won’t kill payback, I’ll even stop the booze and drugs. I’ll do anything for you as long as you promise you're mine again.” -  “I’ve always been yours Ben.”  

“Shit, I'm sorry man.” MM said Patrick didn’t react. Butcher and the rest came back and drove back to the house.  

Y/N took a quick shower, Ben was walking around in the room putting on his sweatpants while all of the sudden he saw a little black dot on the top corner of the dresser. “Son of a...” He pulled it out. “A fucking camera.” Without saying anything to Y/N he walked around the house and found 3 more cameras. Ben stood in the kitchen when Butcher, MM, Hughie and Patrick walked in. “YOU ENGLISH FUCKER!” Ben yelled. This made Y/N suspicious, so she quickly got out of the shower and then heard a rumble. When she got dressed, she ran towards the sound. The kitchen table was upside down on the other end of the room. Ben held MM against the wall.  “What the hell is going on?” Y/N asked.  

“These fuckers thought it would be a great idea to record me, and everything I do in this house.” Ben said pissed not looking at her. “Ben let go of him.” He didn’t respond. Y/N touched Ben’s shoulder. “Ben, please let go of him.”  

Butcher and Hughie looked at each other not knowing what was going on. “Oi, can someone explain what the fuck is going on. A bloody hour ago you” he pointed at Ben “Wanted to fucking kill her. And know she is taming you? And you two ” He pointed at MM and Frenchie “thought it would be good idea to spy on the oldest fucking supe out there, you‘re really that horny and pathetic you want to see him fuck grannies...” While Butcher said that Hughie got the bigger picture. “He didn’t sleep with grannies...” - “Y/N” Patrick finished Hughie's sentence, tearing up. “But then again, you were always his, weren’t you?”  

Y/N started to cry “Patrick, I-I'm sorry.” - “It’s ok, I get it, you wanted a house, a husband, a family but not with me, not really. So, I’m going home, I'm going to box up everything you own. And when you are ready, you can come pick it up.” Y/N stood there watching him walking through the door. 

“So on with the plan ay. How to kill Homelander.” Butcher broke the awkward silence. “No” Ben said walking up to Y/N holding her. “I’m done.” - “No, you’re not.” Y/N said “I still want payback on payback. But Homelander is your problem, Butcher.”  

1 year later.  

Y/N stood at the kitchen counter making breakfast. *Can’t help falling in love* playing in the background. Ben wrapped his arms around her waist. His head on her shoulder swaying left to right. Y/N turned around kissing him. And when she looked in his eyes, she could see the sparkle she hasn’t seen since that day at the fair. Ben, he smiled softly at her. And for the first time in God knows how long, she finally saw a glimpse of the young man she fell in love with. Knowing even though they are both fucked up, they belong together. “Look, we’re dancing. To fucking Presley, Sinatra I would get, but Elvis, why?” He said with a disgusted look on his face. Y/N laughed “Amazing voice, great hips!” She said biting her lip, knowing he wouldn’t like that answer. “Oh, I'll show you great hips.” Ben said lifting her up on the kitchen table. Y/N giggled like a teenager. “I love you.” Ben said looking in her eyes.  

“I love you too.”  

--

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

[burntsaltsblog]

tw: nsfw, mdni

Chapter Six

A knock sounded rapidly on the door of our hotel room, pulling me from a deep sleep. Butcher and I both shot up in bed before looking at each other, me wearing a far more panicked expression than him.

"Who the hell is that?" I mouthed, not wanting the most likely threatening guest on the other side of the door to hear.

Butcher shook his head as he drew a calloused digit up to rest on his closed lips, signaling me to stay silent as he grabbed his newly polished handheld from the bedside table. Quietly, he stood and walked on the balls of his bare feet towards the door in nothing but a pair of black boxers. I would've enjoyed the view more had I not been reaching for my trusty pocket knife, which I had stashed under my pillow the night before.

The blade effortlessly flicked out, gleaming under the light from the bedside table I had switched on. I rose onto my knees, ready to be Butcher's backup if need be as he grasped the shiny doorknob and turned it slowly, opening the door no more than an inch.

Butcher's shoulders visibly relaxed as an overly cheery greeting flowed from his mouth. "Top of the mornin’ to ya’, governor."

When Ed's voice came from out in the hall, I blew a breath through my mouth and flopped back down on the bed, dropping my knife on the nightstand closest to me.

"Oh, good morning. Mr. Butcher, sir. I usually don't make a habit of checking up on my guests unannounced, but you didn't answer the courtesy wake-up call this morning, and I wanted to make sure you folks were alright."

"No worries, mate," Butcher assured the elderly innkeeper as he discreetly slid his gun into the waistband of his boxers, letting the pistol rest against his lower back.

"The misses and I had quite a late night, with it being our honeymoon n’ all. My wife was so insatiable, I swear I had to paw her off me when it chimed three."

My mouth opened in horror, and I didn't hesitate to hurl Butcher's pillow at his back, causing him to stumble forward in surprise.

"Bloody hell, there she is again. I'd love to stay and have a chin wag, but my husbandly duty calls.”

Ed chuckled from behind the door, but I never caught his response as Butcher closed said door and turned back to face me.

"Well, nothin’ like a little mornin’ fright to get the day started. I swear, plannin’ a whole fight in my head sure does get the blood pumpin’, ya’ know what I mean?"

I ignored Butcher's words as I scowled up at him. "I am not insatiable."

"Really? Coulda fooled me," he shrugged, earning him another pillow to his face this time. But it did nothing to get my point across as he laughed at total volume, throwing his head back before retrieving both of our pillows that now rested on the baby blue carpet.

"I swear, love, you're easier to wind up than the little toys me mum used to buy me as a wee boy."

"That’s funny because wind-up toys were invented in the 15th century, but I suppose that makes sense considering your age."

Butcher froze, pillows still in hand, as he raised a dark brow. "Interestin’. I thought I fucked all the attitude outta ya’ last night."

"Well, it's not my fault you weren't very thorough," I quipped back."

"S’that so? Well. Don't make any plans today, sweetheart, because when I'm done with you, ya’ won't even remember how to walk, eh?"

"What plans? God knows I'm stuck here with you for the forseeable future."

Butcher tossed the pillows beside my head and crawled up the length of my body. He looked down at me, smirking before I felt his hand begin to fumble with the hem of his Hawaiian shirt I'd stolen last night.

I noticed the absence of his usual chain with his wedding band dangling in my face, and for that, I was grateful. The last thing I wanted while having sex was a constant reminder of the love of Butcher's life and of the fact that if she weren't dead, Butcher and I wouldn't even be together. He'd be drinking wine somewhere in a suburb, and I'd still be on the streets, counting pennies for my next meal.

"If I had it my way, you'd wear nothin’ but my shirts all day, with your perfect pussy peekin’ out every time ya’ bent over," Butcher whispered filthily as he began raking the thin material up my body.

"I think that can be arranged," I breathed, anticipating Butcher's next move. But it never came due to something catching his attention.

"What's the matter," I asked, concerned, as he stayed frozen, staring down at my stomach. It wasn't until I followed his line of sight that I saw what he was fixated on.

There, just below my last right rib, were the stitches MM had resewn only a few days before. Last night, it had been dark except for the few rays of moonlight peeking in through the window. Now, the reminisce of my injury basked under the bedroom lamp light, clear as day for Butcher to see.

"They're supposed to dissolve in a couple of weeks MM said."

Butcher softly ran his finger around the row of stitches, being careful not to touch the actual closed wound.

"Does it hurt?"

"Not so much."

"Shoulda never fuckin’ happened." Butcher's eyes darkened as his mouth settled into a firm line. "S’all my fault."

"Butcher, this was in no way your fault," I said, quick to halt the bullshit he was spewing. "It was some invisible freak who shot me; how was any of us supposed to see that coming?"

"Doesn't fuckin’ matter!" Butcher bellowed, startling me as he slammed his fist down on the mattress beside me, making the headboard shake. "I put you in that invisible cunt's path because I was too bleedin’ obsessed with getting a meetin’ with Rayner.”

"Butcher, we all wanted that meeting with Rayner. So, don't be a fucking martyr and take the blame for something that is not even remotely your fault."

Butcher, who was stubbornly resigned to his own version of the truth, stood from the bed and kept his head down as he headed for the bathroom. "I'm gonna wash up. We can grab some grub after," he informed me curtly.

"C'mon, Butcher, don't be like this," I begged, hopping up from the bed to stop him from hiding in the bathroom to wallow in self-hatred.

His hand rested on the bathroom door, and I ran my hand up his back, watching as goosebumps rose on his freckled skin.

"I chose to be there that day," I gently reminded him. "When I decided to join this team, I knew I was putting myself at risk of getting hurt, and I made my peace with that.”

"Sometimes I wonder," Butcher whispered, leaning more of his weight on the door. I couldn't tell if it was to evade my touch or if the subject weighed so heavily on his shoulders, that he needed physical support to stay upright. "If I shoulda left ya’ there with Hugo that day."

My stomach sank at Butcher's confession, and he finally turned to face me, looking down regretfully.

"What- what are you talking about?" I stuttered. "You honestly wish you would have left me in that fucking hole?"

"Well, I wouldn't exactly compare the basement of the pawnshop to the Four Seasons. At least with Hugo, you were safe and didn't have psycho supes running after ya’."

I only stared at Butcher with disappointment as he continued.

"What the fuck was I thinkin’? Bringin’ a sweet thing like you into the trenches of hell with me," Butcher murmured more to himself than me, but I answered him anyway.

"You were saving me."

Butcher scoffed, "Don't be a daft cunt. I fucked up your life."

I shook my head in firm disagreement. "Stop talking like this, and come back to bed."

I stepped back and slipped in between the sheets, hoping he would follow me. Instead, Butcher regarded me as if I were a puppy he had just kicked. So much guilt riddled into one man.

"Butcher, I am my own person," I huffed. "So how about you let me take responsibility for my own actions that got me shot that day. You were the one telling us all to get back to the van, yet I was moronic enough to pull out my own gun as if I was going to fight the unseeable son of a bitch. If I had followed your orders, I would've gotten to cover quicker and never would've been shot. Now, goddamnit, come back to bed."

Butcher swallowed as he processed my words before finally shuffling back to the bed.

"If we’re gonna do this, we’re gonna do it my way," he whispered as he mirrored his earlier position over me, dragging up my shirt up once again.

I gave him a confused look, but he disregarded it as he began littering my body with kisses, soft and warm. His lips traced every inch of skin that was revealed by his shirt, wrapped around me, until he reached my scar and stopped for a second time, taking extra care to worship that specific area.

Butcher dragged his lips around the sensitive flesh, mumbling, "Never again. Never again will I let somethin’ happen to ya’."

My head rested against the bed as I relished in the tenderness Butcher was displaying.

"No one is ever gonna touch my girl again."

My girl.

To that, my head snapped up as I gazed at Butcher, stunned.

It's possible he was too lost in the moment and had a slip of his tongue, but the softer side of me, which was hidden deep below many layers of intense insecurity and genuine self-hatred, hoped that the term was intentional.

Butcher seemed to notice my rigid stature, and he looked up into my face, displaying all of the thoughts running through my head.

"That's what ya’ are, right?" He asked, reaching up to tuck a stray hair behind my cheek.

"I don’t know. Am I?." My nerves had caused my voice to grow weak.

"Ain’t that how it usually works? A bloke finds a pretty lady and asks her to be his."

I took a shallow breath before daring to speak.

"Well, please forgive me, but I don't recall you ever asking me."

Butcher took on a look of mock confusion as he ran a finger under his chin, pretending to think.

"Have I not asked ya’ yet? I swear it's on me to-do list."

I giggled at his playfulness before Butcher leaned forward and cupped my face with both his hands.

"Josephine, will you please be my girl?"

Any traces of teasing had vanished as Butcher gazed at me earnestly, holding his breath as he waited for my answer.

"Yeah, ok," I smiled shyly, experiencing bashfulness for the first time in my life.

Butcher all but tackled me, pulling me into his arms and covering my head and neck with kisses. My laughter bounced off the walls, and I wrapped my arms around him, saying a silent prayer of thanks that after so much misery and consternation, he was finally and officially mine.

Our lips met in a feverish kiss before I pulled back, much to Butcher's dismay.

"I am more than happy to be your girlfriend, but I won't hesitate to break up with you if you ever call me Josephine again."

"Yes, ma'am," Butcher smirked before he wasted no time to draw me in for another kiss. Our tongues clashed as we stole the dominant role from each other multiple times.

Soon enough, our clothes were abandoned, and Butcher was quick to sink his thick length into my entrance, which was dripping just for him.

"S’only been a few bloody hours since I was inside ya’, yet you're still so fucking tight. God, what a perfect whore you are for me."

I preened under his praise that was sprinkled with the perfect hint of degradation.

"Move, please," I begged as I helplessly clenched around him, threatening to make him finish much earlier than he wanted to.”

Giving in to my pleas, Butcher pulled all the way out before forcefully thrusting back in. He began to fuck me urgently, and my walls excepted him every time he entered me with ease, thanks to my slick that was now coating my thighs and his heavy balls.

I drifted in and out of the ability to communicate, soon coming to the point where my only answer to Butcher's dirty phrases was a small cry of "Daddy" as hot tears rolled down my cheeks. I had already orgasmed several times, but Butcher seemed determined to completely ruin me to the point where I really couldn't remember how to walk.

"Poor thing. Just needed Daddy's cock, huh?"

Another strangled moan exited my throat, but any attempt at an actual reply was hijacked by Butcher's phone ringing.

Both of our heads shot to where the device sat on the bedside table, and the name "MM" blinked brightly on the screen.

"You should get it," I encouraged, momentarily distracted from the way Butcher was roughly pounding into me.

"I'll call him back," Butcher replied sharply as he gripped my hips in his big hands, bringing my body to meet his thrusts.

"But, what if Hughie and him are in trouble?" I asked, throwing my head back as Butcher hit a particular spot against my gummy walls that always had me coming in moments.

"They could be fuckin’ dyin’ right now, and that still wouldn't be enough to drag me away from this cunt. Besides, MM texted last night sayin’ they were safe n’ sound."

I had no real chance of winning the argument as soon as Butcher's thumb touched my aching clit, whispering praises in my ear.

"You can do it, doll. Come for Daddy one more time. Give him a nice and big one."

I was seconds away from coming like Butcher had told me to when his phone buzzed again with another incoming call, causing my head to snap sideways and study the device as MM's name popped up once again.

"Mm, Butcher, you need to answer. There must be a problem if he’s calling you again," I tried to reason as I mourned my ruined orgasm thanks to MM's persistent attempt at making contact.

Butcher grunted in frustration as he slowed his thrusts but didn't stop completely, letting his fat cock continue to stretch me open.

"Be a good girl and stay quiet, yeah?" Butcher instructed as he kept a firm grip on one of my hips and used his other hand to hold his phone, bringing it to his ear.

"Oi, what the fuck do ya’ twats want?" He yelled gruffly into his phone.

Even though MM couldn't see us, just knowing that even a tiny sound from me would give away what we were doing made my face heat with embarrassment. It was entirely humiliating, but I knew Butcher was betting on the fact that it would get me off, and I was ashamed to admit that he was right. But he had already received confirmation by the way I pulsed around him, and he sent a smirk my way before answering MM.

"Yeah? Well, just be careful, and tell Hughie to pull his head outta his bum and look where he's bloody walkin’."

Butcher was quiet as MM's muffled voice sounded from the other side of the call, and I slapped a hand over my mouth as Butcher's length grazed my cervix, causing my lashes to wet with tears.

"Oh, us? Yeah, we're alright. Jo? Yup, she's doing just fine. Cool as cucumber she is.”

Butcher rolled his eyes as his hips momentarily slowed before immediately speeding up to rival his previous pace.

"Yes, I am being a perfect gentleman, MM. What? You don't believe me? Well, why don't ya’ ask her yourself?"

My eyes bugged out in alarm as Butcher tried to hand me the phone, but I slammed it against his chest and shook my head, silently begging for him to have mercy on me.

Butcher snickered, thoroughly entertained, as he brought his cell phone back up to his ear.

"Oi, sorry, but Jo seems to be sleepin’. Yep, she had a very tirin’ night last night. What can I say? The poor girl is knackered."

By this point, I was completely out of it, and all it took was a single brush of Butcher's thumb over my swollen clit again before I was coming.

I wasn't even aware that Butcher had hung up or orgasmed himself as my vision blacked and I lost feeling in my limbs.

"You ok, doll?" Butcher asked softly, drawing me back to consciousness.

I could only whine in response, and I felt Butcher spread my legs before a warm towel caressed my skin, cleaning me up. I moaned my thanks through a horse throat.

Finally, I peeled my eyes open as Butcher gently sat me up to pull his shirt back over my body.

"You just rest here, yeah? And I'll go scrounge about downstairs for somethin’ for us to nip on. That sound good, darlin?”

I nodded with a blissed-out smile on my face, enjoying the feeling that I was floating on clouds rather than lying on a simple mattress.

But just as Butcher opened the door to leave, I stopped him.

"What did MM want? Are he and Hughie ok?"

Butcher did little to suppress his laughter as he ran a hand down his face.

"MM just wanted to let me know that Hughie had apparently fallen and hit his head. The gash was so deep that MM thought it would be best if he took the lad to the hospital. He was lettin’ me know in case they were spotted."

"Hughie fell? Did he trip over something?"

"Yup. His own two feet."

I snorted loudly as I ducked my head into my pillow and listened as the door clicked shut behind Butcher as he exited the room.

With my eyes now closed again, I blindly reached my hands out, searching for the covers. Upon finding them, I pulled them over my head and curled up on my side, deciding to take a cat nap as I waited for Butcher to return with breakfast.

₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ⁺ ⋆ . ₊ ₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ⁺ ⋆ . ₊ ₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ⁺ ⋆ . ₊ ₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ⁺ ⋆ . ₊ ₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ⁺ ⋆ . ₊

tag list: @weallhaveadestiny @im-nowhere-but-also-somewhere @mandossillyriduur

comment to be added to the tag list!🖤

abandoned masterlist

[lilacliquors]

If you're still accepting requests, I had an idea for a fluffy-ish drabble, maybe? You and Billy are in the middle of a fight in front of everyone, and Billy somehow lets it slip that he loves you. He doesn't realize what he said because he's ranting like a crazy person, so when you start smiling and blushing and stop arguing, he's confused, but he soon realizes what he said.

okay i love this????? nonnie ur mind is *chef's kiss*

tw for mentions of blood and the usually canon violence

everyone was covered in blood. no one could tell if it was their own or the supe's that they just dusted. but there was no time to really think about it, because billy butcher was on a rampage.

you had been at the forefront of the action, against his explicit instructions. but you didn't care, you wanted in on the action. you wanted to actually help. so it came as a surprise to him when you were the one who'd pulled the trigger.

"the fuck were you thinking?" he raged, storming over to you. you looked up at him, blood making your hair stick to your face, and you rolled your eyes.

"i was saving your ass, what's it look like?" you bit back, slowly getting to your feet. all eyes were on you two, but you didn't care. adrenaline was coursing through your veins.

"i didn't need you to do any of that! do you have any idea how many things coulda gotten fucked up just then?"

"i know you could have fucking kicked the bucket, butcher. you should be thanking me, for once in your fucking life," you snapped.

"i'm not gonna thank you for nearly getting yourself done in. you know what's at stake! i can't lose you!" he argued

"you're not gonna lose me? that's the dumbest thing you could have said. christ, do you think you own me or something?"

"are you crazy? i keep you out of the way so you don't get hurt because i can't have the woman i love going the way of the fuckin' dinosaurs!"

you paused, but he kept going. more 'fucking' this and 'cunt' that, but none of that mattered to you. it was sinking in, the realization that the man you'd been attracted to, the man you'd been falling for during this suicide crusade ... he loved you. his keeping you safe was selfish, but not for glory. for preservation.

"the fuck are you smiling for? this isn't something to smile about!" he roared, but you shook your head.

"think back a few sentences, butcher," you said, and he glared at you, his brows pinching together. but then, slowly, they relaxed, and he gazed down at you, taking in your features.

"so what?" he muttered, shaking his head. "just... we'll talk later. get a move on."

"sure, whatever you say," you chuckled, and with a warm smile, you turned and made your way back to the van.

[hi-whore123]

☆ 𝓗𝓤𝓖𝓗𝓘𝓔 𝓒𝓐𝓜𝓟𝓑𝓔𝓛𝓛 ☆

[nobitchs-world]

When you want to read fanfic on a older character and it’s full of that character x reader that’s half their age I CAN’T FUCKING TAKE IT ANYMORE does it physically hurt you to make the reader close in age?!

I can’t take being a controversially young girlfriend anymore 😫😫 I want to be a milf or gilf please 😫🙏🏽

[somedaylazysomeday]

Hooked - Part Two

Continued Billy Butcher x fem!reader

You bring Billy back to your apartment.

Rating: Explicit - mind the warnings. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 3,400

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, blunt conversations about sex, swearing (obviously), brief description of a sex toy, piv sex.

Previous | Masterlist

---

“You live next to a junkyard,” Butcher said, grinning. “Are you shitting me?”

You huffed at him, but it was hard to argue his point. Instead, you concentrated on unlocking your front door and said, “It’s not a junkyard. It’s part of the tow yard.” 

“Full of junk.”

“What did you think happened to cars that were crushed?” you asked, exasperated. “They’ll get recycled eventually, but it’s cheaper if we keep them here until we have a full load of them.”

“Doesn’t make the view any prettier.” Butcher turned around, eyes raking up and down over you. “Least, not lookin’ that direction.” 

You rolled your eyes. “That was stupid.” 

Butcher barked a laugh. “Your sweet talk needs work.” 

“How’s this, then?” you asked, stepping inside your apartment and beckoning him to follow you. “I have alcohol.” 

“Sweetest talk I ever heard,” Butcher declared. “Anything good?” 

“Cupboard next to the fridge,” you said, pointing it out to him. “Pick your poison. I’m gonna change into something not covered in oil.” 

When you came back into the combined kitchen and living room of your cramped apartment, Butcher’s eyebrows lifted. “You actually changed clothes.” 

You glanced down at yourself. Instead of your makeshift uniform of dark jeans and a serviceable shirt, you were wearing a soft tee shirt and loose pajama pants. “I said I was going to. I don’t want to get oil on my furniture.” 

“Yeah, you did say that,” he agreed. “But normally, people come back naked.” 

“Sorry to disappoint you,” you said lightly, pulling a beer out of the fridge. “But I want a drink before I do anything else. Cheers.” 

Butcher watched as you tapped the bottom of your beer bottle against the glass of amber liquid he was holding. He followed you to the comfortable living room, and you could feel that he was going to say something as he settled on the other end of the broken-in couch.

“Tryin’ to talk yourself into doing this?” he asked. “Or out of it?” 

“Neither,” you said, wiping a stray drop of beer from your lip. “I just wanted a beer.” 

“You sure you want to fuck?” Butcher’s tone was blunt and stark, his gaze echoing it perfectly. 

“Yeah.” That didn’t seem to be enough of an answer for him, so you shrugged. “I like sex, and I like you a hell of a lot more than some of the people I’ve slept with in the past. Are you sure you want to do this?” 

Butcher scoffed, but you didn’t accept that as an answer. When he had taken the hint, he said, “There you go, calling me a pussy again. ‘Course I do. You’re fuckin’ gorgeous. Just thought it was strange that you want to jump in bed with a stranger. We didn’t even shake hands.” 

That was so ridiculous that you choked on your mouthful of beer. Sputtering, you stuck your hand out for him. Butcher glanced at it, then up at your face before he took it, giving a ginger shake. 

“There,” you said, clearing your throat to dislodge your drink from where it had wandered. “Are we well acquainted enough to sleep together, or do we need to make a secret handshake?” 

“Smartass,” Butcher muttered, taking a healthy swallow from his glass. “Though now that you mention it…” 

He scooted closer and you braced yourself for a complex handshake or something equally ridiculous, but he leaned in until he could press a kiss to your lips. You were still for the short exchange, frozen in shock, but he ducked in again and you managed to respond. 

Butcher was a surprisingly good kisser. You hadn’t expected it from his gruff and generally unpleasant demeanor, but maybe you should have. Butcher seemed like an asshole and he was - but it was paired with a depth and humanity that took time to unlock. Maybe you should have guessed that he would be the same in other things. 

The moment you responded, he deepened the kiss. You did the same, unwilling to let him get the upper hand. You could feel Butcher smile into the kiss, even if it was half a snarl, and he nipped sharply at your lower lip. When you gasped, he swept through your mouth like a force of nature, leaving no room for doubt that he had taken charge. 

So, naturally, you had to up the ante by straddling him. 

Your knees sank into the couch on either side of his hips. That only made it easier to press your core against him. You were starting to feel distinctly hot and slick inside of your loose pajama pants, and you could feel Butcher’s stiffening length through the thick weave of his jeans. 

Butcher groaned, the sound muffled by your lips, and you smiled to hold back a noise of your own. He felt delicious against you, and this was starting to sound like a better idea every moment that passed. Normally, you didn’t hop into bed this soon after meeting someone - especially when they had started off being such an asshole - but you really wanted to do this. And you trusted yourself enough to follow through on that want. 

“Want to stay here?” you asked between breathless kisses. “Or move to the bedroom?” 

He was about to give a sarcastic response, you could see it rising behind his eyes. You had only just braced for it when you watched him make the decision to be civil. “Bedroom.” 

“This way,” you instructed, climbing down from his lap and leading him over toward your bedroom door. “Hang on.” 

Butcher waited while you shoved a pile of clothes onto the floor. “Love a woman with good organizational skills.”

“Shut up,” you told him unceremoniously, tossing a spare sock toward the chair in the corner of your room. “I didn’t exactly expect to have someone over here tonight.”

“Glad you changed your plans.” 

His sarcasm almost made you say something harsh. The only reason you didn’t was because you worked out your frustration by shoving him onto the bed. He was still bouncing when you climbed on top of him again. 

He stayed quiet for a minute, mostly because he was too busy kissing you to talk, but he could only make it so long without speaking. “Hang on, love. Who said you get to be on top?” 

“My house, my rules,” you explained, nibbling at his jawline. “Besides, you give off pillow princess vibes.” 

“Excuse the fuck outta me,” Butcher bit out, but he wasn’t actually mad. “I ain’t nobody’s princess, love, not even in the bedroom. Not that there’s anything wrong with a man layin’ back to enjoy the view…” 

His hands skimmed up the sides of your body, dragging your shirt up toward your chest. His dark eyes soaked in every bit of skin he had bared, and eagerly watched for more. A dirty little grin curved his lips, stretching them in a way that probably hurt the split skin. With a look of mild concentration, he lifted the shirt even further, exposing your breasts. 

You had been mostly thinking about comfort when you had chosen not to put on another bra, but you were happy you had skipped it. The appreciative groan Butcher let out when he saw your bare chest stroked your ego. In fact, you were feeling confident enough to whip the shirt off entirely, leaving you wearing only your pair of well-worn pajama pants. 

The pants were thin enough that his bulge put pressure exactly where you wanted it the most, and you ground your core against him unashamedly. 

Butcher’s fingertips slid below the stretched elastic waistband at your hips. “Does that mean you’re not wearing anything other than these?” 

You raised your eyebrows at him. “If you weren’t overdressed, you might already know.” 

“Don’t need to tell me twice.” 

He bucked hard, spinning beneath you. You fought the noise that tried to rise in your throat, and compromised by collapsing to the bed beside him. As soon as you landed, you rolled to lay on your side to watch him. Butcher was already working at the button of his jeans, stripping them off as quickly as he could manage. His shirt followed, then his socks, until he was dressed in a pair of dark blue boxer-briefs. 

“That makes us even,” he said, gesturing to his hips. It was a pointless movement - you were already looking. “Unless you are wearing something under those.” 

You tugged down the fabric of the pants, pulling until there was a stretch of skin showing from hip to mid-thigh. “Nope.” 

Butcher pouted when you let the waistband slide back up into place, but he consoled himself by cupping one of your breasts. He watched raptly as its nipple pebbled under the attention. “Much as I love the foreplay, love, I think we should get a little more hands-on.” 

“Okay,” you agreed, willing enough. You teased your fingertips into the hair on his chest before following that dark trail downward until it disappeared into the boxer-briefs.

“Careful,” he warned, catching your hand before it could make contact with anything more vital. 

“Giving me one last chance to back out?” you teased. 

Butcher grinned. “Nah, you’re outta chances. Givin’ you one last chance to get naked before I take care of it myself. And I can’t promise that these,” he paused, experimentally tugging at the fabric of your pants, “would survive it.” 

“Fine.” You sighed, sitting back to give yourself room to wriggle out of the soft bottoms. You balled them up, tossing them vaguely in the direction of the chair where your clean clothes had ended up. When you rolled back toward him, Butcher’s gaze was so intense, you could almost feel it on your skin. Still, you pretended not to notice. Instead, you shrugged. “Better?” 

He was naked faster than you could believe, and on top of you even faster than that. He savaged your mouth with his, the kiss full of teeth and heat and desperation, but you were distracted by the way he had pressed his hips between your spread thighs. The press of him against your core increased the pressure eating you alive, and it only grew more intense when you started to wriggle against him. 

Butcher didn’t seem like the type to get off on denying himself, and he bucked firmly against you the moment you moved. You could feel the thick slide of him against your damp folds, the head of him catching occasionally against your clit. 

“Condom,” you gasped, as you remembered that very important requirement. “There are some in the nightstand.” 

He sat on the side of the bed, fishing through the top drawer of your bedside table until he came up with a small, foil-wrapped packet. He rolled it over himself, but took a beat to switch on a large rabbit vibrator he had found. He smirked at the way it wobbled in his hand as you rolled your eyes. 

“Butcher,” you complained. “Do you always get distracted so easily?” 

“Who says I’m distracted?” he challenged, looking back at you with a glint in his eyes. “Maybe I’m planning round two.” 

Your lower belly fluttered at the idea that he was already interested in going again with you, but you shook your head. “I’m more worried about us starting round one before you have to go pick up your car.” 

Butcher chuckled lowly. “Yeah? Well, since I don’t like to make you worry…” 

He crawled across the bed on his hands and knees, making eye contact while he approached you. Butcher ran his rough hands up your legs as he urged them to part, slotting himself between your thighs as soon as he had the room. He was pressed against you again, but this time, there was nothing to stop him from pushing inside of you. 

So he did. 

The broad head of him slid through your slit, bumping your clit and collecting wetness until he was in the perfect spot. That first press was slow, and you vaguely noticed Butcher’s muscles trembling as he worked to hold himself steady. 

Though he didn’t force himself quickly into you, the steady slide into you was just as overwhelming as a sudden thrust would have been. He felt massive stretching you, patient and almost inevitable. 

The rest of the world disappeared. There was no tow yard, no car in need of repairs, no desperate job hunt. There was only here and now, the bed beneath you, and the warm weight of Butcher on top of you. And, of course, the thick stretch of him as he slowly made room for himself in your body. 

Your head kicked back and your nails sank into Butcher’s shoulders and back. He grimaced slightly, but there was nothing you could do about it - your body was reacting without any conscious input from your mind. 

When his hips were firmly nestled in the cradle of your pelvis, you took a shaking breath and realized that it was the first time you had breathed in a while.

“Fuck,” Butcher spat out. You would have almost thought he was angry, but his eyelids were fluttering in barely suppressed ecstasy. “You okay? Feels like you’re about to snap my dick clean off.”

You shook your head despairingly. “Romantic.” 

He glanced down at you in surprise. “Wouldn’t-a thought you’d go in for the romantic stuff. Want me to say something nice? Ay?” 

“Don’t,” you demanded. “I think it would creep me out if you started being nice.” 

Butcher opened his mouth to say something - probably something insulting, if you were to guess from the curl of his lips - but you rolled your hips experimentally. He choked, but you ignored him. 

He still felt massive in you, but you were adjusting. By that point, you were acclimated enough for him to start moving. You rolled your hips again. 

Butcher caught at your waist, holding you in place. “Easy, sweetheart. Don’t wanna hurt you.” 

“I’m fine, now move.” 

He tilted his head at you. “Bossy.” 

Then he started to move. And it was… fine. 

He was going too slowly, far too slowly. Maybe he wanted to keep things slow? Maybe you were tight enough that you were hurting him? But you didn’t think so. There was a fine tremble running through his chest and biceps, and his hips gave an occasional stutter against yours, like he was struggling not to start thrusting into you. 

You weren’t going to put up with that. You hooked a leg around the back of his knee, giving a sharp tug to topple his balance. When he collapsed forward, he pushed a fraction of an inch further into you, driving a moan from both of you at once. 

You managed to recover quickly, moving to one side as his body came crashing down on the mattress beside you. From there, it was simple to push him onto his back, then to straddle his narrow hips. With a steadying grip on his cock and a bit of thigh strength, you were sinking down onto him. 

The stretch was still intense the second time, but it was a manageable stretch. You could think of things beyond it rather than being fully engrossed, and your senses stayed sharp. That gave you an excellent view of Butcher’s eyes fluttering shut as he was enveloped in your heat a second time. 

The groan he tried to stifle made you throb around him, especially when it trailed into something dangerously close to a whine. “Fuck. You’re gonna kill me if we’re not careful.” 

“Is there a better way you want to go out?” you asked. It hadn’t been intended as a rhetorical question, but it turned into one when you started to ride him slowly. 

The room wasn’t quiet. You could hear traffic on a nearby highway and strains of music playing in an apartment somewhere in the building. More immediately, the sounds of panted breaths, muffled curses, and moving bodies filled the room, creating a perfect sexual soundtrack. 

You leaned forward, planting your hands against Butcher’s chest to balance yourself. The coarse hairs tickled your palms, but you only pressed harder as you used your thigh muscles to propel you both toward glory. Butcher’s fingers sank into your ass, clutching you tight as he started to thrust counter to your movements. 

“Faster, love,” Butcher urged. 

“Easy for you to say,” you grumbled back. “My damn legs are falling off.” 

He hooked one arm behind his head, supporting it on his own elbow as he smirked up at you. You were slightly appeased by the hitch in his voice when he spoke. “Can’t blame me. I started out on top, didn’t I? Then someone pulled a nasty trick so she could be in charge of things. But if you want to give up, I could be persuaded to take over again…” 

“Shut up, Butcher.” You grimaced as you sped up. The complaints from your leg muscles were loud, but your impending orgasm managed to be even louder. You leaned in, letting him support even more of your weight to ease your burning thighs. He let out a little ‘oof’ at the additional pressure, but seemed mostly unbothered.

You hadn’t stopped moving during the exchange, and neither had he. You were both getting close, you could tell by the way his breathing had sped in time with your own. 

“Gonna come, love,” Butcher warned. 

You nodded, rapid and too many times, but your focus was elsewhere. “Touch me, Butcher. I’m close.” 

His hands lifted, moving confidently to your breasts. That wasn’t exactly what you had been thinking, but there was something delicious about the way he cupped you. And when his rough fingers rolled the tender flesh of your nipples, you begrudgingly changed your opinion to ‘good’. 

Still, it wasn’t quite the stimulation that you needed. You shifted your hands so that one would support your weight while the other dipped down and back, between your own legs. Butcher twitched at the way your knuckles brushed the base of his cock, but you were far more focused on the magic your fingers were working against your clit. 

The stimulation felt nice most times, but it was particularly intense when there was something stretching your channel. A few quick, sure strokes against those screaming nerves and you were poised on the edge. 

“Beautiful,’ Butcher said roughly, eyes fixed where your fingers were still playing. “Come for me.” 

You hated to give him the satisfaction of doing anything he asked, but your body seemed willing enough. The moment he had finished saying it, your inner muscles cranked down like a vice, squeezing him in a helpless spasm of desperate pleasure.

Beneath you, Butcher groaned and hissed. Nothing he said were actual words, but you knew they were meant to be curses. Just as your peak started to recede, his hands pulled you down onto him, spearing up into you as far as he could. His hips jerked and danced as he spilled, and only the condom he wore kept him from emptying himself into you. 

At last, you both were lying on the bed, heavy-lidded and sated. Butcher had struck you as the type to jump up and leave immediately after sex, but he didn’t. Instead, he peeled off the condom, cleaned himself up with a tissue, handed another to you, and settled comfortably against one of your pillows. 

You crumpled up the tissue in your hand as you went to use the bathroom. One of washcloths you kept by the sink would do a much better job at cleaning you up, and you had to pee anyway. 

When you came back into your bedroom, Butcher was still lying in your bed. His breathing was slow and even, and you knew that he had fallen asleep. It made you smile as you climbed in beside him, pulling the sheets over you both. You had expected that would wake him up, but he was out.

Maybe it was because of his injuries. Maybe it had been a long day for him. Either way, you remembered thinking how cute it was that he fell asleep so quickly, then sleep rose up and claimed you without a chance to fight it. 

The single time you rose back to consciousness, Butcher was pressed close, lips brushing your shoulder and an arm flung over your waist to keep you where you were.

---

Author's Note - Thanks for reading! There are other Fanfic February fics on the way, but I would love to hear what you thought about this one! This is my first time writing Billy Butcher, so I was a little nervous about this one.

[rhey-007]

Helios - Chapter 2

Billy Butcher x reader

Summary: A fatherless girl finally meets with him after her mother's death. Little does she know that from this point on, her life will fall apart. She'd meet a lot of new, interesting and disgusting people and experience a lot of traumatizing events. Will she be able to choose the right side and take control of her own fate?

Tags/Warnings: 18+, Fem!reader, violence, fluff, mention of rape/sex, big age gap, explicit language

A/N: I decided that I don't want to end this series so quickly cause I still have some ideas. So there'll be more! And that's also why this chapter is a little short, I hope you don't mind :))

Wordcount: 3759 (around)

Masterlist

Previous Chapter

‧͙⁺˚*･༓🔅 🔅༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Chapter 2 - High Noon

After the events of past few months and a couple failed attempts to put your life back together, you finally managed to find a job - which included a small but nice apartment. The only downside was a fact that you were going to work at a fucking supe club. As much as you wanted to get away from all the superhero shit it seemed like it would hunt you forever. You didn’t know what was worse – working at that bar or death, both equally horrible if you had to be honest. In those few months you’ve changed beyong recignition. From a blonde angel to a bratty, dark haired demon. You had enough of your light, long hair and decided to dye them dark and cut them short. You found your wolf cut more fitting, but the hair wasn’t the only thing that changed – it was also your wardrobe and demeanor. Instead of clean girl garments, now the only things you wore were oversized – sometimes men’s - grungy clothes and the politeness faded into bitchiness. It could be seen that you had enough of life even though you were only 21.

As you quickly found out, the supes weren’t the worst thing at the club. It was actually them being able to fuck there. The moans and groans drove you crazy until you got used to them. Mainly because they were annoying but also because your sexlife was a disaster. Every since you slept with your prom date – which was your first and last time – you didn’t manage to pick any guy nor girl up. You had no idea what was wrong but soon were about to find out. You worked behind the bar - making drinks and bringing them to the customers – and of course you had to clean the whole place after closing, in order to live in the flat above. You could never think that supes were that piggish. Used condoms, their fluids along with spilled alcohol and empty glassware layed everywhere after every your shift. The club was also where you met him – William fucking Butcher, another nightmare of a person in your life. Even though a part of you hated him, the other craved for him. He was handsome and charming. The way his brown orbs lingered on your face and body every time you met... The way he smiled at you... The way he called you Doll, Buttercup, Moonie... All those things caused weakness to your knees.

It was a chilly summer night when you first met. He visited your club, your eyes falling to him the moment he entered. Tall, broad shoulders, dark eyes full of anger and lust and... He was older, way older, and you liked it. You never realized you had daddy issues, although looking at your past it was quite obvious. You guessed that that was a problem of your inabillity of finding a date. All the people you tried to flirt with were either your age or a bit younger. You observed the man as he talked with your coworkers and supes until he came up to you.

„Whiskey "

Butcher said before you could open your mouth. After quickly pouring a glass of dark liquid, the drink made it's way to your customer. The man took a sip, the only thing you heard was ice tapping the glass as you prepared drinks and tried to ignore his aroma. He smelled like alcohol and cigarettes but you also caught a glimpse of wood, cinnamon and vanilla.

„Like the smell Buttercup? "

He asked soon when he noticed you give in and inhale his scent, pretendig to have a runny nose and sniffing. Looking up you saw a devilish smirk painted on his face and felt your cheeks burn. In spite of your embarrassment you decided to try flirting with him. Maybe something good would come out of this.

„Not only the smell but also the face. Hope I'd be able to like something else too later”

You winked and left the bar with a tray full of drinks, your hand brushed against his cheek as you did so. Butcher watched you walk away, swaying your hips teasingly. You knew how to seduce a man, it wasn't your first time after all and you also learned some tricks from Queen Maeve back in Vought. Speaking of Vought. They didn't send anybody after you, at least you thought so. Maybe it was you being great at covering up your tracks or they were just too stupid to find you, despite having one of the best equipments and people in America. You didn't mind that of course. It was good for you. Bending down to your customer you felt Billy's eye linger on your bottom.

„Liked the view? "

Your voiced sounded as you found your way back behind the bar. It was your turn to take control of the flirting and you led it the best way possible. You conversed your whole shift before leaving to your apartment. Lips on lips, body to body, as you strolled to your bedroom. One of his hands was tangled in your hair while the other roamed your curves. Your arms were wrapped around his neck, pulling him as close as it was possible. Soon you run your palms down his chest, unbuttoning his shirt slolwy, button after button. Unhurriedly you dropped to your knees, lustful eyes looking up at him and small hands palming his member through his jeans. You could feel he was big and your mouth started to water at the single thought. But something snapped in the man. As if he got out of trance. You were just to unbuckle his belt when his hands met yours. You looked up at him askingly, brow raised in confusion as Butcher sighed and picked you up gently.

„...We shouldn’t... "

Those were the last words you heard that night before he left you in your cold apartment. Were you not enough? Or too much? Maybe he was just playing with you earlier? Maybe he didn’t expect you to actually want this? Maybe it was just a sick bet with a friend to pick you up and leave not even in the middle of the act? You didn’t know and you tried not to care but the weird feeling in your stomach didn’t let you sleep. You couldn’t remeber the last time you were so lonely as that night.

The next night Butcher came back. He couldn’t sleep either, feeling bad for abandoning you. It wasn’t like he didn’t want it. It was just that he didn’t feel worth of you. He was older after all. His glory days were far behind and he was worried he wouldn’t be able to please you properly. Also the fact that he still wasn’t over Becca made him step back. As for you, you were so young and you deserved someone with just as much vigor as yourself even for a one night stand.

He broke into your apartment, holding a small box and scaring the shit out of you when you came from work. You almost cut him in half with your lasers, but managed to stop yourself. He couldn’t find out you were a supe.

„What the fuck?“

You hissed and slowly walked up to Billy. You were so mad at him, fists clenched so hard making your knuckles go white. An apology look was painted on the man’s face as he stretched his hand with the box out to you and pointed his free one at the calendar hanging in the kitchen. At first you looked pretty confused but after looking at the calendar pleasant warmth spread through your body. Your eyes averted from it to the box as you opened it and revealed a small birthday cake.

„Thought I could repay ya' for yesterday. That was a shitty move’’

‘’That sure was... And don’t think I’ll forgive you just because you bought me a cake’’

The frown on your face hid the happiness that bubbled inside you. You were glad that someone ‘remembered’, even though that someone was an unsuccessful hook up. Although you tried to hate the man, the small gesture made you feel butterflies in your stomach just as the night before.

‘’But... I guess we could share a piece and a drink?’’

You asked with a sigh then looked up at Butcher with a soft smile. The man reciprocated it and nooded.

‘’With pleasure’’

Despite not finishing pervious day’s activity, the night was still satisfying leaving you cheerful for another day. You’ve spent the night in each other’s embraces talking, drinking and eating the cake. You told him about your fucked childhood and ‘amazing’ father, making the stories seem as if you were normal humans. And after too much alcohol he unintentionally told you about his wife and hatred to you father. You couldn’t blame him though. New knowledge about your father, the fact the he was able to rape a woman made you hate him even more yourself. You figured it was a tough topic for him and decided to not bring it up the next time you meet. Billy was the first person that you opened up to since running away from Vought, the first person that seemed to care about you even though you were strangers. In the morning he was gone. Well, almost. The only things that he left behind were his delicious smell, mouth watering breakfast and... His hawaiian shirt. You had no idea why he left it, but he must have done that intentionally as it was neatly put together on your couch. Maybe he left it so you would be sure he would come back? Or maybe he wanted you to have a little reminder of him? You didn’t know but still kept it, just as neatly as it was before in your closet.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓🔅 🔅༓･*˚⁺‧͙

One time Butcher called you in the middle of the night, he seemed angry making you jump out of bed immediately and dress up. He needed your help in something he didn’t mention through the phone. You reluctantly agreed and met him at the agreed place. What you saw inside made your heart stop for a brief moment. A big, black garbage bag laid in the middle of a room, instruments of torture were scattered around like toys and blood was splattered everywhere.

‘’Wha-’’

A knot formed in your throat at the terrifying sight. It looked like a scene from a horror movie but in real life, staring Butcher and you.

‘’What have you done...’’

You’ve managed to say, your body trembling like a jelly as your eyes observed the horror.

‘’Just a fucking supe, Buttercup. Ain’t nothin to worry bout’’

Butcher grinned down at you and patted your back. In that moment you’ve realized how dangerous the man was, why you met him at the pub and what he could do to you if he found out you were a supe too. But you still had no idea why he asked you for help.

It was because he thought you were like him. A vigilante working undercover in a supe bar to get rid of one of them. But you weren’t.

‘’We need to get rid of this stinky asshole’’

You were too shocked to object when he called your name and obediently did what he ordered you to. You helped him pick the body up and take it to his car. Good thing it was parked in a dark alley where no one could see you. You shoved it into the trunk, hopped inside the car and drove away to the forest. While the body burned you watched the flames – your brain still not able to wrap around what was just happening – and Billy warmed his hands above it. He looked like a psycho in the fire light. A fucking hot psycho. Soon he got too warm and handed you one of the spades to start digging a hole. You did it quite swiftly which surprised you. You always thought digging graves took hours. Butcher helped you out of the hole and chuckled at your dirty attire.

‘’Hope princess won’t get mad I ruined her clothes’’

You just rolled your eyes annoyed then you burried the ashes. After that Butcher drove you to your apartment. There was complete silence between you, only the faint noises of the radio could be heard as you drove through the town.

‘’M’sorry Moonie... Promise I’ll never ask ya bout such shit again...’’

Billy soon broke the silence, he just couldn’t stand it anymore. His hand made it’s way to your thigh and was about to rub it when you suddenly snapped.

‘’WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!”

You screamed into his face and pushed his hand away. You still couldn’t believe you helped him with such a thing. Your body was trembling the whole ride as your brain repeated the scenes from few minutes ago on and on. Butcher parked the car in front of your building and didn’t manage to say anything when you jumped out of it.

‘’You’re just like them!’’

Your scream echoed through the street and you could bet everyone heard it. The man tried to grip your wrist and pull back inside but you were faster. You slammed the door almost breaking it and crushing his hand then run to your flat, tears falling down your cheeks. Butcher wanted to follow you so badly, to explain everything, to comfort you. But he decided otherwise, instead giving you time to think about whether you still want to know him or not. He didn’t expect you to though. Not after that.

To his surprise the next time you saw each other it was you who came up to him. You placed the drink he ordered in front of him and sat down beside.

‘’Care to explain?’’

Your eyebrow was raised as you awaited his response. Of course he had to drag it out... Billy slowly picked the glass up and raised it to his lips. He took small sips, taking his time, and when the glass was finally empty he just then deigned to answer. It was all you expected. The person he killed wasn’t first nor the last, he was just a mere puzzle in the jigsaw.

‘’It wasn’t much Moonie. Just needed information. If I’d let him go, he’d later tell someone and then it would’ve been me burried 8 feet under ground. I assume you wouldn’t like that’’

The last sentence was rather a question than a statement and you had to admit that you would in fact not like that. You grew quite attached to Butcher in those few days of your familiarity, but it was just the beginning. You forgave him with great remorse and he pinky sweared he wouldn’t get you in his shit again.

He lied.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓🔅 🔅༓･*˚⁺‧͙

After two years of your acquaintance you started to wonder why do you even help him? He caused an immense damage to your mental health – not that it wasn’t fucked before – yet you still did it. Maybe because working with him was your way to get back at your father, even though he didn’t know about Bucther’s existance yet. Or maybe because you cared about him. You cared about that beast of a man. When you were with him you were sure nothing would happen, and if it did you would have averted the crisis with your powers. Just like that night when Butcher got almost killed due to his stupidity. And who had to save him? You.

You shielded Billy’s hurt body with yours from the fire beams a supe threw at you. You predicted his next move and before he threw another beam you lasered his legs knocking him down. You didn’t hurt him much though, it was Billy’s job after all. After checking if the supe fainted you turned to face a dissapointed and sad face of Butcher. It was the first time you saw him so dejected and it made your heart break.

‘’You’re one of ‘em...’’

‘’Billy I-… I-I'm sorry I didn’t tell you, I was-… I was scared you would hurt me too...’’

Butcher stiffened under your touch when you brushed your hand against his. He fought the urge to cage you in a warm hug and say that it’s alright. But he couldn’t do that, no... He didn't hang out with superheroes, let alone work with them. But you were different... He dramatically pulled away from you and kicked the pillar next to him furiously.

‘’FUCK! I could’ve fucking predicted it! And tell me ya work for Vought! Cause ya sure do! Why would ya help me otherwise-”

‘’Because I fucking care about you! Not like you! Just use me for some dirty work regardless of how I feel! You’ve promised me thousand times you won’t ask me for help anymore, yet you still do! Every time you can’t deal with something by yourself you come running to me with your tail between your legs! If you think you're greater than every supe on earth then why do you even need my help?!’’

Butcher didn’t say anything, just looked at you like a hurt dog would and even though your heart ached you knew it was time to leave. You shook your head disappointedly with a heavy sigh and left the building, abandoning Billy for good. You tried not to cry, but the minute you were sure he didn’t see you anymore, the tears started to fall down your cheeks themselves.

Just then did Butcher understood the feelings for you he has kept hidden deep inside himself. It was adoration, derise and infatuation he felt every since he met you. He felt so helpless in that moment but knew you would never forgive him. That night he lost another woman he loved... The man didn’t appear in your pub the next day as he usually would, making you feel weird and uneasy at first, but you quickly forgot about him and went on with your life.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓🔅 🔅༓･*˚⁺‧͙

You didn’t miss Butcher. Not at all. Through the year you’ve got so many hook ups and potential boyfriends that you lost memory of him in the proces. Although neither of the men made you feel the same way you felt with Billy, you didn’t complain. But all of them were just like him. Older, well built with dark hair and beards. And his shirt? You still got it but now it was squished in the back of your closet, long forgotten and unwanted. Well... Maybe not completely unwanted. Your life was weirdly calm every since you left and you fell into a routine. Get up, go to work, come back home. On and on with occassional parties or grocery shopping. You even managed to befriend one of your coworkers, Brittany, who took you to said parties. The new life you lived wasn’t perfect but it was enough and it made you finally happy.

That was untill you saw that motherfucker again. He walked into the club as if nothing with some random, scared guy. You figured he was his next poor sidekick. You locked eyes with Butcher as the two passed you. He seemed unfased by your furious glare. Soon you lost them in the crowd but not for too long, as after about 20 minutes they came walking your way.

‘’Whiskey. And an apple juice for the kid’’

You didn’t respond just gave the younger guy a sad look. You poured them their drinks then handed them over, all without a word.

‘’Come on Moonie. You gonna be pissed at me foreva’?’’

You completely ignored Butcher and turned to face his new friend, blood boiling in your vains and the nickname.

‘’Listen buddy. I advise you to run as far away from him as possible while you still can, or he’ll ruin your life or get you killed’’

‘’Oh come on! I’m not that bad!”

‘’Myabe if you didn’t turn your back on me I wouldn’t think so!”

“Now that’s the Y/N that I know! All hot an rowdy’’

Butcher smirked at you after you snapped. You wanted to tear that smile from his face, shove it up his ass then kill him. And if wasn’t for the fact that you were at work, full of piggish supes, and that some feelings kept you at bay you would have done that right there and then. It was also because of Hughie, he seemed too pure for looking at that masacre. You wondered what such fragile guy even did with Butcher? Did he blackmail him or something?

‘’What do you even want, huh? You show up in here as if nothing and expect me to be all over you like some slut. Need me to do your dirty work again? Or did you remembered about that night and wanted to try again huh? Never. Now finish those up and leave just like you left last time’’

You hissed and went back to work, leaving Butcher surpirsed by your bluntness and Hughie impressed with your straightforwardness and ability to tell Butcher to fuck off. Even though the boy didn’t know Billy for long, he felt like he was a person that no one would say ‘no’ to. But there you were, proud of yourself for not falling for him again and telling him to fuck off.

But your happiness didn’t last long as few days later you found Hughie all beat up with a few cuts on your porch. He was too cute to refuse to help him and soon the two of you found yourselves sitted by the kitchen counter, sipping hot cocoa while you took care of his wounds.

‘’Told you it’s gonna happen...’’

You sighed after finishing and sat in front of him.

‘’About that...’’

Hughie’s words made you comprehend why he even came to you. Up to that moment you didn’t even realize you never told him where you lived, you haven’t even talk to each other! Butcher must have sent him to persuade you. That sick motherfucker knew too well how to handle you.

‘’What is it?...’’

You asked giving in. You decided that if you had to help them, you’d do it just for that poor dumplin Hughie, who’s girlfirend got run into and killed by fucking A-Train. And that’s how it started, another adwenture with Butcher. God... Why did you always had to get yourself in some shit...

‧͙⁺˚*･༓🔅 🔅༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Tag list: @demodemo909 @aleemendoza2425-blog

- if anyone would like to be added just comment!

[nanivinsmoke]

i know im anime/manga based, but i sooo wanna do a billy butcher x f!reader. im dripping for that man

[burntsaltsblog]

Abandoned Masterlist

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After a passionate night together, Butcher abandons Jo without a single word. For months, she and the rest of The Boys do their best to find him but always come up empty-handed. After Butcher is presumed dead, he finally reappears as if nothing ever happened. but Jo never forgot.

Takes place at the beginning of season two🖤

content warning: explicit language, violence, gore, and nsfw material

MDNI, 18+

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Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight