#frenchie and kimiko come back :(

[fastboatsmojito]

Finished the boys <//3

[aj-lenoire]

kimiko spoke!!! holy shit!!!

[drasticemotions]

FUCK YEAH BOYS S4 OFFICAL TRAILER. CAN JUNE HURRY THE FUCK UP

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐀 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐲 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

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

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

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

↳ song: rock me like a hurricane—scorpions

masterlist | commissions | carrd

𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐮𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫

• He has mixed feelings about you

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

• “You first, Butcher.”

𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐢𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞

• He fucks with you so hard

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

• “Shut up.”

𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐤

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

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

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

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

• “Same shirt!! Hell yeah.”

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

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

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

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

• “Just one swing I swear—“

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

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

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

• “No.”

𝐊𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐨

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

• “Goddamnit!—“

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

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

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬: 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[writingbyshiloh]

Who Fell First vs. Who Fell Harder, ft. The Boys

Featuring: Butcher, Hughie, and Frenchie

WC: 500

CW: General The Boys world, confessions, fluff etc

AN: Struggled on the parts for my girl Kimiko and MM so I had to leave them out. Mon ange means my angel, no beta

Billy Butcher - Butcher knows how you feel about him. It’s hard not to see the way you look at him after a few too many beers, and how you care about Ryan. How you frown and scrunch your brows together when he comes back hurt and you treat his wounds first. But it’s dangerous. Hunting down supes and his morals makes it hard for him to imagine a life with you. Butcher doesn’t even venture into the possibility that he could like, let alone love someone, in case they leave him or worse, die. He realizes his feelings when you get injured in the field. As Butcher wipes blood from your nose he can’t help but admire how pretty you are that all of his feelings hit him at once. And he knows he's fucked. 

Hughie Campbell - Hughie knows he is in over his head. He can’t even handle half the stuff Butcher does let alone take good care of himself. But you think he's so cute and smart, it’s hard to not be a little in love with him. Your feelings only grow the longer he's on the team, becoming more confident in himself and his capabilities. You’re in love with him but it doesn’t hurt unless you really think about it. Hughie is focused on surviving, not wondering why his pretty teammate always goes out of the way to help him, even at his lowest. Hughie comes to his feelings about you at the WORST possible time. Arms poised, ready to shoot a gun (with improper technique but if you both live then you can teach him later), his feelings bubble up to the surface and he blurts out how deeply he loves you, while you're both trying not to get shot.

Frenchie - Frenchie falls first. He assumes it’s lust and that one night with you would get it out of his system. He swears to MM that one night is all he needs, a man can’t be tied down, right? Until it becomes two until it’s three. Until it morphs into a friendship. Even after sleeping with you three times, your pretty smile still sends his heart reeling. You just think he’s being sweet, giving you French pet names that make you smile, letting you choose what show for the both of you to watch. It happens one night, both of you practically sitting on top of each other to watch your favourite show, and it hits you. You’re in love with your best friend. And you need to let him know immediately. Tipping your head back against his shoulder, you catch his eyes. 

“Frenchie?” you ask softly 

“Oui, mon ange?” 

“I want to kiss you.” You tip your head back against his neck to look at his eyes, then his lips. They curve into a small smile. You can’t help yourself, overcome with emotion that you twist and manoeuvre Frenchie until he is flat on his back and you’re lying on his chest. 

“You have already, mon ange. We’ve done a lot more than that,” he says, one hand coming up to stroke your face and the other on your back. 

“Yeah, but I love you.”

[cranberry-writes]

Dating Headcannons for The Boys characters!

Please send requests, i need motivation

Characters listed; Hughie, Butcher, M.M, Frenchie, Kimiko

Warnings; Mentioned drinking and cannon typical violence/language. Also i’m barely on season 2 please bear with me

Hughie;

- He’s so so sweet about your relationship

- He gets you flowers for no reason other than he saw them and thought you’d like them

- He has thousands of reminders so he won’t forget anything, from a drink you liked to your anniversary he will have it written down.

- Later on in the series he gets protective and cautious about the relationship, scared someone (homelander) will mess it up by hurting you

- He’ll probably push you away a bit to try and protect you but after you knock some sense into him he’ll be back to normal

- Loves park/library dates, going on a picnic during the summer and to the library when it’s to cold out.

- He will do so much for you (flowers, gifts, dates etc) and insist it’s nothing but will cry (happy tears) if you do the same

- Don’t get me wrong tho, he’s still a bad ass (sometimes). He just dosnt want you to think differently of him because of it, he’s hurt people, killed people, and he honestly isn’t too keen on focusing on it. Even if you two are in the same line of work.

- And if you two don’t work together he tries to keep his ‘work’ life and dating life separate, very separate.

“You’ve never told me what you do for work, maybe i could stop by and meet your co-workers.”

“Uh, actually, i don’t think that’ll work.”

“Why not? is everything ok there or something?”

“I-, uhm, work alone, so i don’t even have coworkers for you to meet really, it’s really boring infact you’d probably fall asleep just from me talking about it hahaha.”

- You find out like two days later

Butcher;

- Little shit

- I mean that affectionately

- His pet names will range anywhere from “Darlin’” to “Fucker” and i WILL stand by it

- He’ll probably introduce you to his work before he does his dog

- But his dog is the big ticket, you meeting Terror is essentially his way of proposing before proposing

- He’s protective but not in the “i’ll watch your every move” more in the “im teaching you how to use every weapon to ever exist” way

- Honestly work would probably come before you for a while before he sucks it up and actually makes an effort

- Dates will be at the most shity bar imaginable, unless he’s apologizing for something then he’ll take you to the nicest place he can and put on a suit. (it’s the Cheese Cake factory and he’s wearing a Hawaiian shirt under his jacket but he’s trying)

- Unlike Hughie he will introduce you to his work at some point, granted it would still be a while before he did but he would at some point.

- He’s sweet in his own way

“Darlin’, look what i got ya.” And it’s a Garfield shirt a size to big but you still wear it anyways

MM;

- Definition of husband material

- remembers anything and everything after being told one time

- makes you baths with rose petals and candles and all that stuff if you mention you’ve been tired lately

- Takes you out to the movies and a nice restaurant at least twice a month

- Good gods he’s sweet to you

- He knows how to cook/bake and will make stuff for you all the time

- My guy will make a meal from your culture and practice making it almost daily just to give you a taste of home.

- He really loves back massages and cuddling after a long day

- Put on some crappy reality show for background noise and nap together

- He wants you as far away as humanly possible from his work, will literally say shit like “everyone at work has the plague you can’t visit” as a joke to try and change the subject

- Chances are you won’t find out

- His favorite flowers are tulips and nothing will change my mind about it

“Baby what are these?”

“Tulips, I bought them from a street market on 11th today. They’re your favorite, right?”

“Gods, sweetheart you’re perfect.”

Frenchie;

- When you two meet you both think it’s just going to be a one night stand

-…then it’s two nights, then three, then a week, then you start spending more time at his place than your own. One day you guys just realize you’re moved in and dating

“Are we dating?”

“…Was there anything else we could be mon cœur?”

- honestly i don’t think you two would get together if you weren’t working together, or at least you were also into some shady shit

- But overall you guys have a strong relationship, one gets hurt the other kills someone, someone is hungry the other is already cooking, stuff like that

- He also cooks but it’s only french food, it’s like a super power. He can cook any french food effortlessly but literally anything else he messes up

- If you are french he’ll be super happy someone else will appreciate the same stuff in a similar way

- If not then he’ll be happy to share stuff with you, teach you some french words and tell you about stuff he grew up with

- Honestly he’s just happy someone (other than Kimiko) will listen and take an interest

Kimiko

-I have a confession to make, Kimiko is my favorite and i have a very blatant bias towards her

- Kill anyone you want bby i don’t care ill always like you

- Anyways, It probably takes you a while to get close enough to her that she’ll consider dating you

- Once y’all get to that point i don’t think you could break it tho

- I think she would like constant minimal physical contact, like hand holding or leaning on each other

- I think she’d be pretty protective over you, like someone looks at you wrong and she wants to maul them

- Learn sign language with/for her she will love it

- Draw with her, get her supplies, like those alcohol markers i’m sure she’ll love them

- Honestly i don’t think she’d be big on pet names, she wouldn’t object to it but i don’t think she’d give you one first

- Cook for her, i just think it would be sweet and she deserves it

“I got you some of those markers you’ve been looking at for a while.”

Thank you, this is nice

- Please she’s perfect i love her

[hughiecampbelle]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[zepskies]

Lesson Learned

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Reader

Summary: There’s only so much teasing Ben is willing to take. He has no choice but to punish you.

AN: Here we go! lol. This is the highly requested Part 2 to This One’s For You, over in the BMD-verse!

Word Count: 2.2K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, edging, teasing, fluff, and feels.

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

You gasped, your nails raking through his hair. Your grip threatened to rip out a few strands as you panted into his neck.

“Ben, please…for God’s sake…”

“Please what?” he said. There was grit in his voice when he spoke into your ear, but he was all too controlled. Taunting.

Asshole.

He was relentless, dragging his fingers inside your quivering pussy, rubbing his thumb around your clit, but almost never where you wanted him. Your thighs were shaking on either side of his frame as he had you naked on your back, writhing in the middle of your shared bed. You’d sucked him off until his spine rattled and his eyes nearly crossed, swallowing up as much as you could of what he had to give.

Still, he wasn’t satisfied.

“I’m sorry!” you burst in frustration, but you also had to stifle your laughter. Your husband narrowed his eyes at you, spying the hint of your smile.

“How come I don’t fucking believe you?” said Ben. With his elbow digging into the bed beside your shoulder, his occupied fingers curled inside you, finally brushing against the sensitive ridge of your inner walls. It drew a faltering moan from your lips. 

“What exactly are you sorry for?” he demanded. He bowed his head and laid a biting kiss along your throat. “Use your fucking words.”

You exhaled roughly, gripping his hair tight again. Now that he couldn’t see your face, you could allow yourself to grin in amusement.

Three Days Ago…

Ben was tired and more irritable than usual when he stepped into the Flatiron Building. The night before had been a battle of wills between him and his infant daughter, who’d been finnicky, having a hard time going back to sleep. He’d done his best to help her get back to sleep, since you had been dead to the world and unable to leave the bed (or so you’d seemed).

Now, he took the elevator up to the right floor and used his key to get into the office suite, where Butcher and the rest of your delinquent friends were already dicking around.

Some horrible French rap was playing on the Bluetooth speaker. Kimiko was flicking tiny pieces of paper across the dining table, into a “goal” made by Hughie’s hands. Frenchie wore a “Kiss the Cook” apron as he pulled a fresh batch of croissants out of the oven in the kitchenette, while M.M. swept the excess flour stains off the counter. 

Annie was trying to get Butcher to smoke his cigarette out on the balcony.

“Really, you had fucking cancer. You’d think you’d try a little harder to take care of yourself,” she said. Butcher gave her a wan smile, and blew a coil of smoke upward between them.

“Nice,” she said flatly.

But all that stopped when Ben strode into the room. They stared at him, each starting to smile, no matter how much some of them tried to hide it (like Kimiko, with a hand over her mouth).

“What the fuck’re you staring at?” Ben snapped. “We got a job, right?”

Butcher cleared his throat and recovered first. He dabbed his cigarette on an ashtray on the dining table and grabbed an iPad to give to the supe.

“Yeah, got us an escapee. Our little slumlord, Sapphire,” he said.

Ben frowned. Sapphire was the supe who nearly vaporized you a couple of years ago, after they broke up her drug ring. While he read the file documenting detailing her escape and what the CIA knew of her whereabouts so far, Hughie shared a look with Kimiko and Annie before he spoke.

“So, uh, how’s Lila doing?”

 Ben shot him a look through furrowed brows.

“Fine. She’s with her mother,” he replied. Hughie predictably asked about you, and again, Ben said you were fine at home with the baby.

“Lila’s almost a year old, right?” Hughie asked. “Aw man, that’s gotta be a fun age, right? I mean, fun, but challenging. All the crying, the diaper changing. Getting her to sleep through the night must be tough.”

Ben’s attention piqued at that, and not in a good way. His dark suspicion grew when his gaze flicked up to Hughie’s dumb fucking face, and then the rest of them, with their dumbass smiles. Biting her lip to stop herself from smiling, Annie pressed a button on her phone.

All of a sudden, Ben heard his own voice playing from the speaker.

“H-Hey there, Delilah, what’s it like in New York City?”

“Now ain’t that a lovely warble,” Butcher remarked. Ben shot him a warning glare, but the Brit raised his hands in amused surrender. He crossed his arms and continued to smoke as he watched the scene unfold.

Ben tossed the iPad onto the kitchen counter and strode over to Annie with menacing steps, intending to put an end to this bullshit. She grinned and tossed her phone over to Kimiko, and Ben glowered, changing directions.

“I'm a thousand miles away, but girl, tonight you look so pretty. Yes, you do. Time Square can’t shine as bright as you…I swear it’s true.”

Kimiko’s eyes widened at the angry supe heading toward her. She tossed the phone to Frenchie next. The phone bounced between his flour-stained hands as he yelped in surprise.

“Oh, shit,” he uttered, when Ben began stomping his way.

“Hey there, Delilah, don't you worry about the distance. I'm right there if you get lonely. Give this song another listen…”

“A voice like warm butter,” Frenchie praised. He quickly tried to move from side to side to evade his attacker. “You should be proud, Monsiuer Grincheux! A man soothing his baby is a beautiful thing.”

“Shut your fucking cockhole,” Ben gritted out, but he still reached out when the phone sailed under his arm—only to land in M.M.’s hands. He froze with widened eyes, not wanting to be in the game. But it was too late, for him and Ben.

“Hey there, Delilah, here’s to you,” his voice sang, more quietly, more tender, deep and baritone. “This one’s for you…”

A brief pause. And then—

“What the fuck’re you doing?”

M.M. managed to pause the video. A beat of utter silence, and then...

Everyone burst out into laughter. Hughie started it; he was damn near folded in half, leaning heavily on his girlfriend as he wiped a tear out of his eye. M.M. tossed the phone back to Frenchie, whose entire frame was shaking with restrained glee.

Ben’s jaw worked as he contemplated how exactly he was going to kill every one of these cocksucking morons.

And then you. Because how else had they gotten that video? You had to have sent it somehow before he got ahold of you last night.

“All right, enough!” he bellowed.

The entire room fell silent.

“First of all, erase that shit right now, or it’s coming out your ass,” he barked, pointing at Frenchie. The other man jolted and did as he was told.

“As for the rest of you, I better not hear another fucking word about this, or so help me Christ, I’m gonna do some barbecuing.” 

About three days later, Sapphire had been caught and re-imprisoned, and Ben returned home. He found you in the living room. He was taciturn to your happy smile when you welcomed him with a hug around his waist, though your smile fell after he didn’t respond to your kiss.

He slowly lowered his gaze down to you, and you knew.

Biting your lip, you soothed a hand along his cheek. “So, how’d it go?”

“Fine,” he said, but little else.

In fact, Ben didn’t speak to you for most of the evening. You tried cooking him a good hot meal, but he barely said two words to you. The only thing he did, before he was even showered and changed, was venture into the nursery to lay a gentle hand on his daughter’s head as she slept, over her downy brown hair. He bent down to press a kiss to her forehead.

After that, he strode past you in the doorway and slammed the door shut in the bathroom.

Aw shit. Despite yourself, you couldn’t help chortling with laughter. You should’ve known he’d be a great big man child about this.

So you decided to call your mom and see if she could take Lila for the night.

You had some damage control to do.

Now…

He'd brought you to the edge of your pleasure three times before he withdrew his mouth or his hand from your body, not letting you touch yourself, not letting you come—driving you to the point of frustrated tears.

You grabbed his head with both hands and guided him to look you in the eyes.

“Baby, please. Stop torturing me,” you pleaded. You used every tool in your arsenal to make him break, giving him soft, tearful eyes. You leaned up and pressed gentle kisses to his cheek, his chin, the corner of his mouth, and finally his lips.

“I need you,” you whispered, drawing him into deeper, messier kisses. Part of him started to falter. He briefly closed his eyes and breathed into your kiss.

But then, he stubbornly broke from you with a frown.

“Nice try. You’re not getting off that easy,” he said. “Now say it. Why the fuck are you sorry?”

You huffed in aggravation, but you twined your arms around his neck and brushed slightly sweaty strands of his hair away from his forehead.

“I’m sorry for embarrassing you,” you said, even though your mouth began to curve upward. “It was a sweet thing you did, and I’m glad I captured it. But I am sorry that sharing that moment with our friends bothers you so much.”

“First of all, they’re your idiot friends,” he said. You wanted to interject on that one, but you knew he wasn’t in the mood, and you didn’t want to fight with him for real.

“Second of all,” he began…but he didn’t have any more words after that. They were caught between his irritation, and his unwillingness to even voice what it was he felt. Eventually, he found them.

“There’s some shit that needs to stay between us,” he said.  

You smiled, but you mercifully drew him down for another slow kiss.

“Okay, okay. I hear you. It’s not that big a deal though. You love your family, and look! Your macho-ness is still very much intact,” you said, gesturing at his very much hard cock pressing against your thigh. “Now are you gonna fuck me like a man, or do I need to find a vibrator that will?”

At that Ben looked down at you with a raise of his brows. His lips twitched, mostly at your audacity. Shaking his head, he slid a hand behind your neck and drew you in for a kiss, fueled by passion and frustration in equal measure.

You wrapped your thighs around his hips, urging him closer. His straining length pressed against your center, the wet tip slipping against your glistening folds. He groaned at the sensation.

“Please,” you repeated, licking into his mouth for a sensuous kiss.

The once-iron grip on his restraint finally broke. Ben slid a hand between you to hold himself to your entrance. With one smooth thrust, his cock buried deep inside you. Your moan of relief echoed his own. If nothing else good came out of this situation, you two hadn’t had the time or the energy to go at it like this in a long time.

He grabbed your thigh and angled you higher, so he could sink in at an even better angle as he began to rut into you.

With all of his earlier edging and teasing, you were already so close. Your inner walls fluttered around him, welcoming him home and gripping him tight. All it took was a few well-placed swipes of his thumb over your clit to have you tumbling over the edge—a delicious cresting of pleasure that made you arch off the bed, biting your nails into his shoulders, a cry caught in your throat.

Ben fucked you through your release, all while chasing his own. His grip on your hip tightened as his thrusts grew ragged, his own breathing shallow and rough, until his balls tightened and his body locked up on him. He spent himself inside you, coating your inner walls until he had nothing left.

He just barely managed to keep himself from smothering you as his body relaxed. You still welcomed his weight on you, soothing your hands up and down his back while you both caught your breath. Your thighs slipped from his hips, your feet meeting bed and sliding out a little.

Ben brushed your sweaty hair away from your face. Looking down on you now, his face gentled from its hardened angles and furrowed brows. You smiled lazily.

“Still mad at me?” you teased.

Ben resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he let out a rough exhale through his nose.

“Something tells me you didn’t learn your lesson,” he said, somewhat incredulous, and yet, amused.

Your smile was undoubtedly cheeky, even as you leaned up to give him a sweeter kiss.

“Sure did, baby,” you said against his lips. And another kiss. “Lesson learned, I promise.”

He really did roll his eyes this time.

AN: 😂 Ben just can't win, can he?

Translation: Monsiuer Grincheux - "Mr. Grumpy" in French

Keep Reading in the BMD-verse:

Coming up next, Ben has his Adventures in Babysitting moment in Green:

Summary: Ben spends the day alone with his daughter, to varying degrees of success. When you get home, it prompts a serious conversation.

▶️ Keep Reading: Green

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[lila-lou]

✨Lesson learned✨

Summary: You upset your boyfriend by dancing with another guy, so he sets out to teach you how to behave.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader (DARK)

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, kinda Rape, Language, Angst, Hurt, Manipulation, Violence, Humiliation - it´s just pure darkness

Word Count: 5168

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

The relationship with Ben had always been a rollercoaster ride, filled with highs and lows that left you dizzy and disoriented. When you first started dating, you held onto the hope that he would change, that maybe the glimpses of softness he showed were a sign of something deeper. But as time went on, it became painfully clear that his misogynistic tendencies ran deep, overshadowing any progress he made. It was a constant tug-of-war between his moments of kindness and his ignorant behavior, leaving you feeling drained and uncertain about your future together.

So again, as you stood in front of him at the bar, a hand gently resting on his shoulder, you mustered up the courage to ask, “Ben, come dance with me?”. You nodded towards Kimiko and Frenchie on the dance floor, their laughter and joy infectious.

Ben grumbled a terse "No", his irritation palpable in the air. But undeterred, you tried again, hoping to break through the barrier he had erected between you. "Please, just one dance", you insisted, your voice tinged with a hint of desperation.

However, before you could finish your plea, Ben snapped at you, his tone cutting through the music and laughter around you. "I said no, can't you listen for once?". His words stung, leaving you feeling small and defeated once again.

You tried not to let anyone see that his snapping hurt you, so you overplayed it with a nod and a soft smile. While Ben took a sip of his whiskey, you sat back down beside him, your eyes fixed on the dance floor. Annie and Huggies were dancing too, their happiness a stark contrast to the tension between you and Ben. With a sigh, you realized that once again, you and Ben were alone in your own little world of strained communication and unspoken frustrations.

You bit your lip, bouncing your leg up and down, while Ben's focus remained glued to his phone. You were happy that he had even agreed to join you and your friends at the bar, but right now, you kinda wished he hadn’t come. He didn't talk to you, didn't dance with you, nothing. The silence between you was heavy, filled only with the sounds of the lively bar.

You sighed, unable to hide your disappointment, and it earned a snarky comment from Ben. "What's with the dramatic sighing? If you're so bored, maybe you should have stayed home", he muttered without looking up from his phone.

His words cut deep, but you forced a neutral expression, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he had hurt you. Instead, you just looked back towards the dance floor, wondering how something that once felt so promising had turned into this.

After a while, some guy approached you. Of course, he wasn’t Ben, but he looked pretty handsome. His blue eyes sparkled as he smiled at you. “Would you like to dance?”, he asked, his voice warm and inviting.

You glanced beside you, but Ben didn't even bother to look up from his phone. Clearly not paying attention to you at all. More than hurt by his disinterest, you took all the bravery you had left and smiled at the stranger, nodding. You stood up and walked with him over to the dance floor.

As you started dancing, it was nothing too close or dirty; you just wanted to have fun and forget the tension with Ben, even if only for a moment. The stranger's easy-going nature and genuine interest in you made you feel lighter, the weight of Ben's neglect slowly lifting as you moved to the music. You laughed and twirled, enjoying the simple pleasure of being seen and appreciated, if only by someone new.

It wasn't until 20 minutes later that Annie and Hughie approached Ben, slightly sweating from dancing, and asked, "Hey, Ben, have you seen Y/N?".

Ben looked up, visibly annoyed. He glanced to his side and realized you were gone. Scanning the room, his eyes finally landed on you, laughing with a guy he didn’t know. There was a respectable distance between you and the guy, but still, his anger began to simmer.

Annie followed his gaze, swallowing hard when she saw you on the dance floor. Her eyes flicked back to Ben, noting the veins standing out on his neck, a clear sign that he was trying everything to keep his temper in check. But it was obvious he was close to losing it.

"Ben, it's just a dance", Annie said softly, trying to diffuse the situation. "She just wants to have fun".

Ben's jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. "I can see that", he replied through gritted teeth, his eyes never leaving you and the guy.

Hughie put a hand on Ben's shoulder, trying to offer some comfort. "Maybe you should go talk to her, Ben. Clear things up".

Ben took a deep breath, his anger barely contained, and stood up. "Yeah, maybe I fucking should", he muttered, striding towards the dance floor with a determined look on his face.

Ben approached you within seconds, and without a word, he punched the guy in the face. He tried his best to hold back his supe strength to avoid killing him outright, but the guy was still knocked out, his nose and jaw clearly broken. Despite the few screams from people around you, Ben gripped your upper arm with a fierce hold, tugging you out of the bar with such force that it left you in tears.

Outside, he shoved you towards a nearby taxi, growling, "Get the fuck inside". His eyes blazed with fury, making it clear there was no room for argument.

You stumbled into the taxi, your arm throbbing from his grip and tears streaming down your face. The driver looked alarmed but said nothing as Ben slammed the door shut behind you.

Meanwhile, inside the bar, Annie and Hughie exchanged worried glances before rushing to help the guy who had danced with you. There was nothing they could do for you now. They had warned you more than once about Ben, but you hadn’t listened. Now, they could only hope you would be safe and find a way out of this toxic cycle.

The taxi pulled away, the night outside a blur as you tried to process what had just happened. The harsh reality of Ben's unpredictable anger and possessiveness was hitting you harder than ever.

Inside the taxi, you held your arm, tears rolling down your face as a huge bruise already started to form. Ben had always been a bit rough in handling you, but he had never been this mad, never actually hurt you like this. Sure, during sex, your hips sometimes got a few bruises when he squeezed them too tight while he came and was simply overwhelmed, but this right now was completely different.

Beside you, Ben breathed heavily, his angry gaze fixed on you. You tried not to look at him, fearing that meeting his eyes might provoke another outburst. The tension in the confined space of the taxi was suffocating, each second dragging on like an eternity.

“You really thought it was a good idea to fucking dance with some random guy?”, Ben finally spat, his voice dripping with anger. “Do you have any idea how that made me look?”.

You flinched at his words, struggling to find your voice. “I just wanted to have fun, Ben. You weren’t paying any attention to me”, you said softly, your voice trembling.

The taxi driver kept his eyes on the road, clearly uncomfortable but not daring to intervene.

Ben's rage intensified, his face contorting with fury. "Fun? With another man?", he repeated, his voice louder and more menacing. "You acted like a fucking little whore, and you should know better!".

You flinched again, the sting of his words cutting deeper than the physical pain. "Ben, please", you whispered, tears streaming down your face. "I wasn't doing anything wrong. I just wanted to dance".

"Just wanted to dance?", he mocked, his voice dripping with venom. "You're mine. You don't get to just do whatever the hell you want".

You felt a mixture of fear and defiance welling up inside you. "I didn't mean to upset you", you said, your voice barely audible. "But you can't treat me like this".

Ben's eyes narrowed, his anger palpable. "I can treat you however I damn well please", he snapped. "You're lucky I don't do worse for making me look like a fool in front of everyone".

The taxi driver shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes fixed firmly on the road. You felt a pang of sympathy for the man, dragged into this toxic exchange against his will.

As the driver stopped in front of your and Ben’s apartment building, Ben paid quickly, his movements sharp and impatient. You hurried out of the car, knowing that if you didn’t move fast enough, Ben would likely drag you out himself. Your body was shaking as you opened the door and walked towards the apartment, Ben close behind you.

The elevator ride was tense and silent, the air thick with unspoken words and simmering anger. Your mind raced, trying to think of a way to defuse the situation or at least protect yourself from what might come next.

When you finally reached your apartment, your hands trembled as you unlocked the door. You stepped inside, your heart pounding in your chest. Ben followed, closing the door behind him with a resounding thud.

“You think you can just embarrass me like that and walk away?”, he spat, his eyes burning with anger.

You backed away slowly, your voice trembling as you tried to explain. “I wasn’t trying to embarrass you, Ben. I just needed some attention, some fun. You weren’t—”.

“I wasn’t what?”, he interrupted, stepping closer, his presence overwhelming. “I wasn’t doting on you like some pathetic lapdog? You need to learn your place”.

Tears welled up in your eyes again as you looked up at him, feeling small and powerless. “Ben, please. This isn’t right. We can’t keep going like this”.

For a moment, something flickered in his eyes—an emotion that wasn’t anger, perhaps regret or pain. But it was quickly replaced by the familiar, cold rage.

Before you could say another word, his palm connected with your cheek, the sound of the slap reverberating through the room. The force of the blow sent you reeling, your vision blurring as pain radiated through your face. You stumbled back, clutching your cheek, tears spilling freely down your face.

“You don’t get to fucking tell me what’s right”, he growled, his voice low and dangerous. The venom in his words left you trembling, your body shaking with a mix of fear and pain.

The tears came harder now, uncontrollable sobs wracking your body. Ben’s expression twisted in anger as he watched you. “Stop fucking crying”, he yelled, his voice rising to a furious pitch. “Or I’ll give you a reason to fucking cry”.

You tried to stifle your sobs, pressing your hand harder against your mouth, but the fear and pain were too overwhelming. Ben’s rage seemed to grow with every tear that fell, as he struggled to contain his anger.

He took a step closer, towering over you. “I fucking swear, if you don’t shut up…”, he threatened, leaving the rest of his words hanging ominously in the air.

In that moment, you realized that there was no reasoning with him, no calming his fury.

You stood there, your hand pressing hard against your mouth, the right side of your face completely swollen and red. Despite your best efforts to remain silent, the fear and pain made it impossible not to sob. Your breath hitched with each sob, your chest twitching up and down uncontrollably. You were shaking, your entire body a testament to the trauma you were enduring.

Ben’s eyes bored into you, a terrifying mix of rage and contempt. “Look at you”, he spat, his voice dripping with disdain.

You couldn’t meet his gaze, your eyes fixed on the floor as you tried to steady your breathing, your sobs barely contained. The room felt smaller, suffocating, as his presence dominated every corner.

“Do you understand now?”, he continued, his tone quieter but no less menacing. “You don’t get to act out and make a fool of me”.

You nodded, trying not to upset him further, hoping to placate his rage. But Ben wasn’t done with you just yet. He needed you to learn what happened if you didn’t behave yourself. You were his girl, after all, and no one else got to touch you.

“Good”, he said, his voice icy and controlled. “But I don’t think you fully understand yet”.

He stepped closer, his towering presence casting a shadow over you. You flinched as his hand reached out, expecting another strike, but instead, he grabbed your chin roughly, forcing you to look up at him. His grip was tight, his fingers digging into your skin painfully.

“You belong to me”, he said, his eyes boring into yours. “No one else gets to touch you, no one else gets to see you like this. Do you hear me?”.

You nodded again, your breath hitching in fear. “Yes, Ben”, you whispered, your voice trembling.

“Say it”, he demanded, his grip tightening even more.

“I belong to you”, you repeated, tears spilling over once more. “No one else”.

He released your chin, shoving you back slightly. “Good. Now remember that”, he said, his voice filled with a cold satisfaction. “And don’t ever make me remind you again”.

You stumbled back, catching yourself against the kitchen island. Ben's eyes never left you, his expression a mix of anger and satisfaction. He muttered something under his breath, barely audible, but you caught the tail end of it: "Now turn the fuck around, face down".

Terror gripped you, but you knew better than to resist. Shaking, you slowly turned around, facing the kitchen island, your hands gripping the edge tightly. The cold surface felt like a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your swollen cheek.

"Face down", he repeated, his voice sharp and commanding.

You lowered yourself, your cheek pressing against the cool countertop, tears streaming silently from your eyes. Every muscle in your body was tense, bracing for whatever was to come next.

Behind you, you heard Ben move closer, his footsteps heavy and deliberate. His presence loomed over you, and you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. "Don't ever forget who you belong to", he growled, his voice a harsh whisper in your ear.

Your mind raced, searching for a way out, but the fear kept you rooted to the spot. You knew that any attempt to resist would only provoke him further, and the thought of what he might do if pushed too far was too terrifying to contemplate.

Time seemed to stretch on, each second a painful eternity as you lay there, your breath shallow and uneven.

You heard Ben’s belt rustling behind you, the sound sending a chill down your spine. He pulled down his jeans and boxers just enough to free his dick. While he gave himself a few pumps to make himself hard, he yanked up your dress, exposing your ass. With a hard tug, he ripped away your panties, leaving red marks where the fabric bit into your skin as he pulled on it.

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the sobs that threatened to escape. The pain of his rough handling mixed with the humiliation of the situation, making you feel utterly powerless. Ben’s heavy breathing filled the room, a harsh reminder of the imminent violation.

“Don’t move”, he ordered, his voice cold and detached. You could feel him positioning himself behind you, the heat of his body pressing against your exposed skin.

You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the inevitable.

As he was about to push inside you, he grabbed your hip, making you flinch reflexively. Snapping at you that he told you not to move, he slapped your ass with such force that you were shoved into the kitchen counter. You were certain he had just used his supe strength on you for the first time. The impact nearly crushed your hipbones against the hard edge of the countertop. It was impossible to tell what pained more—your behind or your hipbones.

More tears welled in your eyes as the shock and agony consumed you. The tears blurred your vision, and your body trembled uncontrollably. The brutal reality of his power and your helplessness was more evident than ever.

“Did I tell you to fucking move or not?”, he hissed.

You shook your head, too terrified to speak, your cheek still stinging from his slap. Every part of you ached, the pain almost unbearable. Yet, amidst the physical agony, the emotional toll weighed even heavier.

He positioned himself again, his grip on your hip like a vice.

With that, he pushed inside you with one hard and deep thrust that nearly had you vomiting from the pain. He knew how tight you were and how big he was. You always struggled even when you were wet, but now it was just excruciatingly painful. You could swear he had ripped you apart with just that one thrust. You cried out, the agony overwhelming every sense.

Ignoring your cries and sobs, he pulled back, his movements devoid of any compassion. With brutal force, he pushed right back inside, all the way, making you feel like you were being torn apart anew. Each thrust was a reminder of your helplessness, a brutal testament to his dominance.

Your mind struggled to cope with the pain and the violation, each moment stretching into an eternity. The tears continued to fall, each sob a desperate plea for mercy that went unheard.

As he continued, his breath heavy and labored, he muttered under his breath, "You're mine. You need to learn to behave".

You kept whimpering breathlessly, your body barely able to keep up with the intensity of his movements. The room seemed to close in around you, the walls pressing in with the weight of your fear and pain.

Ben grunted, his voice thick with frustration and anger. "I don't want to do this", he spat, "but you leave me no other choice".

Each word was like a dagger to your already fragile spirit, the cruelty of his actions and his justification for them making the situation even more unbearable. You tried to stifle your sobs, but the pain and fear were too overwhelming.

"Why can't you just do as you're told?", he growled, his grip on your hips tightening painfully. "Why do you have to make everything so difficult?".

The desperation in his voice mingled with his rage, creating a terrifying mix of emotions that left you feeling utterly powerless.

His grip softened slightly, and his tone shifted, almost pleading. “Just say you’ve learned your lesson”, he muttered, “so I can stop”.

Through your tears and pain, you managed to whisper, “I’ve learned my lesson”. The words felt hollow, but you hoped they would be enough to make this torment end.

Ben’s movements slowed, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “That isn’t enough”, he said harshly. “You need to mean it”.

Desperation clawed at your heart, and you struggled to find the words that would convince him. “I… I mean it, Ben”, you stammered, forcing as much sincerity into your voice as you could muster. “I’ve learned my lesson. Please, just stop”.

For a moment, he seemed to hesitate, but then he continued, his grip tightening once more. Each thrust felt like it was breaking you further, both physically and emotionally. You bit your lip, trying to hold back the sobs that threatened to escape.

Finally, with a grunt of satisfaction, he finished inside you. The violation felt even more complete, a harsh reminder of his dominance. He released you abruptly, and you collapsed against the counter, your body trembling and tears streaming down your face.

“Remember this”, he said coldly, his breath still heavy. “Next time, you won’t get off so easily”.

As he pulled away and adjusted his clothes, you remained where you were, too shaken to move. The silence that followed was suffocating, each breath you took a painful reminder of what you had endured.

"Get cleaned up", he ordered, his voice devoid of any sympathy. "You look like a fucking mess".

His words stung, but you forced yourself to move, your body aching with every step. You made your way to the bathroom, each movement a struggle. Once inside, you closed the door behind you and locked it, leaning against the sink for support.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, the image almost too much to bear. The tear-streaked face, the swollen cheek, the haunted look in your eyes—it all felt like a nightmare you couldn't wake up from.

Turning on the faucet, you splashed cold water on your face, trying to wash away the tears and the pain. As the water trickled down, you took deep breaths, willing yourself to find some semblance of composure.

With trembling hands, you reached for a washcloth. Just then, you noticed the small blood droplets trickling down your inner thighs. The sight made your breath catch in your throat, the stark evidence of your ordeal adding another layer of shock to your already overwhelmed senses.

You pressed the washcloth against your skin, trying to clean the blood as gently as possible, but the pain made you wince. The cold water did little to numb the sting, both physical and emotional. Each wipe reminded you of the violation, the brutality of Ben’s actions.

As you continued to clean yourself up, your mind raced.

After what felt like an eternity, you finally managed to clean yourself up. You dressed in fresh clothes, trying to cover the bruises and marks as best as you could. Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself, knowing you had to face Ben again.

Opening the bathroom door, you stepped out cautiously. Ben was still in the living room, his expression unreadable. You avoided his gaze, but as you walked towards the bedroom, Ben called after you, stopping you in your tracks. Your heart raced and your hands started to tremble again. Every step made you wince in pain, but you turned around and walked back towards him, bracing yourself for whatever was to come next.

You stood in the doorway, wearing a thin, long soft sweatshirt and matching pants that you hoped would hide the bruises and marks. Ben’s expression was still unreadable, but his voice was softer now, almost deceptively gentle.

“Come closer”, he ordered, a hint of something unreadable in his tone.

You hesitated, every instinct screaming at you to stay away, but you knew better than to disobey him now. Taking a deep breath, you took a few steps closer, each movement sending jolts of pain through your body.

He watched you intently, his eyes following your every move. “You know why I had to do that, right?”, he asked, his voice still soft but carrying an underlying threat.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. The fear and anxiety were almost overwhelming, but you forced yourself to remain calm, to not provoke him further.

“Good”, he said, his tone slightly more approving. “I don’t want to hurt you, but you need to know how to behave”.

You swallowed.

“Come here”, he said, extending a hand towards you.

You walked over to him slowly, each step a reminder of the pain and fear you were trying to suppress. When you reached him, Ben’s grip was surprisingly gentle as he pulled you onto his lap, positioning you so that you were straddling his hips.

The change in his demeanor was disorienting. He had been so brutal just moments before, and now he was almost tender. His hands rested on your hips, the same place where his grip had been vice-like earlier.

“You know I do this because I care about you”, he murmured, his eyes searching yours.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure. The closeness was suffocating, yet you forced yourself to nod, to agree, to do whatever it took to keep him calm. “I understand”, you whispered, though the words felt like ashes in your mouth.

Ben’s hands moved up and down your sides, almost in a soothing manner. “Good”, he said softly.

You nodded again, your heart pounding in your chest. His touch, though gentle now, was a reminder of the power he wielded over you.

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, and for a moment, it almost felt normal.

With that, his attention turned back to his joint and the TV, his grip on you still firm but now gentle. He held you close, his arms wrapped around you as if trying to erase the brutality of earlier with this forced tenderness. The flickering light from the TV cast shadows across the room, adding to the surreal feeling of the moment.

You sat there, straddling his hips, your body tense and your mind racing. Every muscle screamed for you to get away, to find a safe place, but you knew better than to try and leave now. Ben’s mood could change in an instant, and you couldn’t risk provoking him again.

He adjusted his hold on you, pulling you even closer. “See, this is nice”, he murmured, almost to himself. “I just want us to be close”.

You nodded slightly, not trusting your voice to remain steady. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat a reminder of the precariousness of your situation. His words and actions were so contradictory that it was hard to grasp any sense of stability or safety.

As he focused on the TV, you tried to find a place of calm within yourself. The physical closeness was suffocating, but you forced yourself to breathe slowly, to remain as composed as possible.

He felt your heart still racing and brushed his hand gently over your back. “Relax”, he mumbled, his touch soft and almost soothing. It was as if he was afraid to hurt you now. The gentleness felt like a cruel twist.

“I love you”, he murmured, his voice filled with a strange mix of sincerity and possessiveness. The words hit you hard, bringing fresh tears to your eyes. How could someone who claimed to love you inflict so much pain and fear?

You swallowed hard, trying to keep the tears at bay, but they fell anyway, silently streaming down your cheeks.

Ben’s hand continued to move slowly over your back, as if he believed that this moment of tenderness could erase the horror of what had just happened. “You know that, right?”, he asked softly, his eyes searching yours for affirmation.

You nodded, your throat too tight to speak.“I know”, you whispered finally, your voice barely audible.

Ben brushed your tears away gently with his thumb, his touch surprisingly tender. “Come on, baby, stop crying”, he whispered, his voice a strange mix of concern and possessiveness. His fingers traced the path of your tears.

You nodded slightly, though the tears continued to fall. His gentleness now felt almost surreal. It was hard to reconcile these two sides of him, the loving and the violent.

“Shh, it’s okay”, he murmured, pulling you closer against his chest. “I don’t want to see you cry”.

You pressed your face into his shoulder, hiding your tears from him, but they kept coming. The conflicting emotions within you were too much to contain.

“Just relax”, he said again, his hand continuing to stroke your back. “Everything’s going to be okay”.

He gently pressed you closer by your hips, and you instantly shook and cried out in pain. Ben’s eyes widened with genuine concern. “Does it hurt?”, he asked, his voice softer, his hand hesitating on your hip.

You nodded, biting your lip to stifle the sobs. “Yes”, you whispered, unable to meet his gaze.

A look of confusion and something akin to regret flickered across his face. “I’m sorry”, he murmured, his hand loosening its grip. “I didn’t mean to hurt you that much”.

The sincerity in his voice was disorienting, making it even harder to process the rollercoaster of emotions. You wanted to believe the gentler side of him, but the pain and fear were too fresh, too real.

“It’s okay”, you said softly, more out of a need to pacify him than anything else. You knew you had to keep him calm, to avoid provoking another outburst.

“Come on”, he whispered softly, “let’s get you to bed”. He stood up, carrying you with him, his movements careful and measured as if trying not to cause you any more pain.

You felt a strange mix of relief and trepidation as he held you. His gentleness now was in such stark contrast to his earlier brutality that it was hard to reconcile the two. You wrapped your arms around his neck, allowing yourself to be carried.

Ben carried you to the bedroom and gently laid you down on the bed. “You need to rest”, he said, his voice still soft, but you could sense the underlying tension. “I’ll stay with you”.

You nodded slightly, too exhausted and sore to protest. The bed felt like a small haven of comfort despite the circumstances. Ben climbed in beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist, holding you close but carefully avoiding your sore spots.

He stroked your hair gently, as if trying to soothe away the pain he had caused. "You need to rest", he repeated softly, his breath warm against your ear.

You closed your eyes, trying to focus on your breathing.

"Everything's going to be alright", Ben murmured, his voice low and almost hypnotic.

As the minutes ticked by, you felt the exhaustion from the day's events start to take over. Your body ached, each bruise and mark a painful reminder.

Ben's grip on your waist tightened slightly, as if he sensed your thoughts. "I love you", he whispered again, his voice tinged with a desperation that made your heart ache.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to respond. "I love you too", you whispered.

———————————

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

[hom3landr]

That Unwanted Animal

18+

Homelander x Soulmate!reader

You don’t love Homelander. Even when he looks like everything you’ve ever wanted.

Loosely based on this post from @blindmagdalena

His t-shirt is soft under your hands as you cling to him. The baseball cap shields his features from you as presses you against the alley wall. The blue fabric rubs against your cheek as he thrusts up into you. The both of you avoid eye contact and as you bury your face into his shoulder, the scent of his cologne nearly chokes you. You thought it would be easier like this. You’d believed that maybe without the suit you could pretend your “lover” was a normal man. Maybe the two of you had met at a bar, or a doctor’s office, or while walking dogs in the park. You could have been an ordinary couple with a soulmate story fit for a Hallmark movie.

But a change of clothes can’t distract you from the fact that this man, your soulmate, is the very man you’ve dedicated your life to bringing down. It’s a sick joke, isn’t it? You love your team. Hughie is always there with a shoulder to cry on. M.M. gives good advice. Frenchie and Kimiko have become almost like siblings to you. Even Butcher you hold fondness for, as infuriated as he often makes you. They’re your family and yet you’re here fucking enemy #1 in a filthy alley and he’s going to make you come.

You bite his shoulder to keep from crying out as he effortlessly holds you up. It would be easier if he was bad in bed. The soulmate bond would still suck ass, but at least you wouldn’t derive pleasure from it. He came so fast the first time you fucked him that you’d initially been relieved. It had been perfect until he’d spread your legs to lap his own come from you until you’d shuddered helplessly against his tongue. You’d gone home and cried after, despite the pleasure still pulsing warmly through your veins.

You can’t even say it isn’t consensual. Your bond causes you to ache for him viscerally. Hell, this time you sought him out. He didn’t even protest when you laid out your terms. He had seemed more amused than anything. When he showed up wearing civilian clothing like you demanded, you almost turned him away with tears pricking at your eyes.

He looks soft, human, like someone you could love, a real soulmate. Even as he pumps into you, the peek of blond sticking out from beneath the cap makes you ridiculously endeared against your will. If only he was anyone else…

Soulmates have always been romanticized to a ridiculous degree, despite everyone knowing a story of some person who is enslaved by their mark instead of liberated. There are many things that can tie two souls together besides love. Yet everyone still longs for the day they find their match, in hopes of the happiest of endings. You had been no different.

You whine and clench around him as he angles himself differently, his cock sliding even deeper into you until it feels like you're choking on it. Your mark burns and the empty pit in your stomach that lingers in his absence is washed away with each heated pulse. The nausea of being away from him finally subsides with each brush of your skin against his. He sighs happily into your hair, as the same sense of belonging envelopes him. This feels right and it makes you want to scream.

“Mine,” he growls against your temple.

“Yours,” your bond answers for you.

You only ever fuck him in comfortless places.

Your heels dig into his ass and you rock yourself into his thrusts. He nips at your ear gently…affectionately. He can’t distinguish between true love and the oppressive obsession that comes with a mate. You don’t love him. Things would be easier if you did.

Why couldn’t he be anybody else?

“Is this good?” He asks needily. He can sense your distraction. He wants to be good for you. He wants to please you. You flutter around him and one hand strokes the back of his neck tenderly despite the mental torment that you’re facing. No one has ever been so attentive during sex before. He makes you feel cherished. Even when you beg for him to make it hurt, he refuses. The same hands that have commited endless cruelties hold you like something rare and precious.

You don’t answer and you can feel his petulant frown against your skin as he waits for feedback.

He adjusts you effortlessly in his grip so he can stroke you exactly the way he’s learned you like it. You whine desperately as you leak all over his fingers and drip onto the ground below. He sighs at the feeling.

“I love you so much.” He whispers intimately into your ear. His sincerity makes you want to weep. “You’re everything I ever wanted.”

It doesn’t matter how many times you rebuke him or refuse his offer to take you home with him. He still believes that you feel the same. He believes that one day he’ll find you soaking wet at his penthouse door, having run across the city in the pouring rain to him, confessing how much it hurt to push him away. He wants the satisfaction of knowing that you abandoned your team from sheer want of him. He thinks of your situation as a romantic comedy that hasn’t hit the emotional climax yet.

It’s pathetic and delusional and you hate how close you know you are to fulfilling it. You don’t love him…but you know you could.

Despite how hard you try to resist, you come hard and you sob into his neck at the intensity of it. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear as he rubs you through it. You kiss him to shut him up and he groans into your mouth as he releases inside you. He kisses you back desperately, seeking whatever crumbs of affection you let yourself give him, using them as proof to fuel his delusional fantasies.

Once you’ve both ridden out your respective orgasms, he finally pulls back to look at you. The softness in his eyes belongs to a kinder man. Your stomach flips. His cap has been knocked slightly askew and he looks human. He frowns slightly and the hand he was using to bring you pleasure brushes something off your cheek.

“You’re crying.” He remarks, hand now cupping your cheek as his thumb strokes your skin in an attempt to comfort you. You want him to be rude to you the way he is to everyone else. You want him to mock you and make crass disrespectful remarks. You open your mouth to reply and a broken sob comes out. He hushes you softly and leans down to kiss the tears that roll down your cheeks

“I love you.” You confess finally, the truth is bitter and shameful in your mouth. You’ve finally stopped lying to yourself

“You say that every time. Are you actually going to follow through or are you going to deny yourself some more?” He asks dryly, cocking his head at you. His grip flexes as he continues to press you against the wall.

You both know the answer. Just like you both know that one day the answer will be different.

Your team better succeed before then.

[i-love-oldermen]

|Now you know my name| pt.1

A/n: I know it’s been a while but Ive recently started watching the boys and fell on my knees for this man. Literally on my knees for him, I love him so much.

Summary: After having a long mission all you wanted was a shower along with a sneaky link but What happens when you take a steamy shower pic and send it to the wrong person?

Warnings: Language, homel@nder (such a cunt)

Smut will happen in pt.2 I promise

Word count: 1.5k

Some of the basics you just joined the boys and have became close with Frenchie, Kimiko, M.M, Hughie, and even Annie. For some strange odd reason Butcher never seemed to be interested in you or even care to remember your name. You’ve tried being nice and understanding towards him but he either ignored you or walked off. That’s when you decided you weren’t going to pay attention to him anymore and for 3 whole weeks you haven’t.

You couldn’t think of Butcher at this exact moment though, the only thing you thought about was finishing a stupid mission to get some intel and get out quick. You sat with Frenchie and Kimiko in the van right behind Butcher who was driving. Everyone was busy talking who was doing what, when Hughie turned to you.

“You remember what your job is right y/n” he seemed nervous but serious.

To be totally honest today wasn’t the best day for you and you weren’t having it he told you your job over and over today least to say you were tired of it. Sure you were the youngest but you weren’t dumb.

Sarcastically you say “ You know what Hughie after the million times you told me, I don’t fucking remember”

The van got silent for a moment. Hughie was in shock along with M.M and Frenchie.

“Oí whats the matter with you” Butcher roughly says while looking in the mirror to look at you.

“Can you just drive” Rolling your eyes you avoid the gazes from everyone else by looking out the window. You see as Butcher he goes to say something but you just put on headphones and ignore him.

————————————————————————

After an agonizing car ride, the van comes to a full stop. You took off your headphones and climbed out of the van, Frenchie holding the door gave you an apologetic look. You pull down your pencil skirt fixing your blazer as well.

“You okay, mon amour” he put a hand on your face.

“Yeah Frenchie don’t worry about it” you gave him a comforting smile and turned to close the door.

The job today was to get into vought and plant a bug in Stan Edgar’s office. The seven haven’t seen your face around enough to remember it so you were the one going to sneak in.

Frenchie was hooking you up to a mic and camera so if you were to need back up you could get it within minutes. “Okay you should be able to get in and out with little obstacles” Hughie reassured you. M.M handed you the bug which you put in your phone case as Hughie did.

“Okay I think I’m ready to go” you were confident you were going to be able to do this.

“Aye don’t screw it up”

You turn to Butcher. He has a dumb smirk on his face that you want to punch off his face but you keep your composure while you put in your ear piece before walking away.

You pulled out your phone while walking in the building typing a message.

‘You’re such a cunt William , fuck you’

While walking through security and getting a pat down, you see Annie walk by she gives you a smile and a head tilt on which way to go. You are escorted by security up to the elevator. You had a cover as being an important investor to vought but you wanted to meet the man himself. Stan Edgar. Feeling your phone vibrate in your hand you look at it to see a message from Butcher. Without unlocking your phone to see the message you show it to the tiny camera connected to your shirt.

You hear through your earpiece, it’s Frenchie telling you to ignore the English man so you do putting your phone down to your side.

When you hear the elevator ding you are met with none other then Homelander. He has a disgusted look on his face as he looks at you. You start walking out of the elevator when he speaks.

“Have we met before”

You don’t know what to say almost to stun to speak so you just smile “No I don’t think so, maybe at a charity event”

You give a smile to reassure him. He looks you up and down seeing his expression change you change the topic. “Hey would you happen to know where Mr.Edgars office is?”

“Oh sweetheart you’re on the wrong floor” you cringe at the ‘sweetheart’ part feeling your skin crawl.

“Here I’ll take you” he states not making it seem like a question at all.

In your earpiece you hear Butcher -don’t fucking get in the elevator- he sounds furious so you take out your earpiece and take out earrings to cover it up and shoving it into your purse. Now your team can only see and hear you.

Homelander steps into the elevator holding the door for you, giving you an overwhelming smile “so are you coming or not”

You smile back to him before stepping inside the elevator. “Thank you so much for showing me”

He holds the smug smile on his face “No problem sweetheart” you cringe at the name again as your smile dies down. It becomes awkwardly silent as the building floors ding, you hear your phone starting to blow up. Homelander turns to you “You can answer that if you need to” you give him a head nod “oh it’s nothing important” he starts to speak as the doors open.

You take a step out quick not wanting to be with him a minute longer, leaving homelander in the elevator by himself. Thanking him you hurry to Stan Edgar’s office, he’s not in his office according to starlight. Quickly you pop in putting the bug under his office desk. You rush out of the office to be greeted yet again by the bitch in red white and blue.

“He wasn’t in there was he” he’s staring into your soul, taking a step closer to you.

“Oh no he’s not, my assistant was texting me that he rescheduled last minute” you smile to him hoping it would make your lie seem more believable.

“You’re a lying bitch” the supe threatens backing you into a corner with a freighting grin on his face.

“Excuse me”

“I do know you, you’re one of Huggies little friends aren’t you”

You try to shove him but he doesn’t move “I don’t know what you’re talking about” He pins your arms down.

“You’re lying, I can tell” His eyes start to glow red, when starlight comes into view.

She rushes to your side as she yells for him to let you go. He lets go “Oh hey starlight” he tries to play it off.

“Miss why don’t you come with me” She puts an arm around your shoulder, leading you back to the elevator. When inside the elevator and the doors close she turns to you with a worried look on her face.

“Did you really take out your earpiece”

“Yeah but Annie-“ you try to justify for yourself but she cuts you off.

“Y/n that was really risky, if it weren’t for Hughie who knows that homelander would have done”

“Okay im sorry” you didn’t mean it you still finished what you were suppose to and nothing that bad happened. You open your phone to see you have 10 messages all from Butcher.

Ignore the dumb cunt.

Don’t get in that fucking elevator.

You’re stuck with homelander how is that not in your fucking brain.

Y/n get out.

NOW.

Bloody hell stop being a cunt.

You’re going to get killed.

GET OUT!

He’ll KILL YOU!

Get the bloody hell away from him.

You have a shocked look on your face turning your phone to Annie. She has a puzzled look before grabbing your phone and looking at the messages. She’s shocked too. She covered your camera mouthing how she’s so shocked and didn’t know Butcher was this upset, totally agreeing with her as you are still in shock.

As the elevator doors open you separate now at the main floor, you step out of the elevator giving her a small wave. Walking towards the front door, you see a person you recognize pretending to read a newspaper. As you meet his eyes Butcher drops the paper and starts walking over to you. You stop walking standing in place in shock. He grabs you by your wrist before practically dragging you outside the building. M.m pulls up with the van before Butcher shoves you inside following you in climbing in the backseat. M.m drives away and that’s when Billy starts yelling.

“What the bloody hell were you thinking” he yelled.

“I think I planted the fucking bug” you yelled back at him getting into his face.

“You almost died y/n”

The van got quiet. Butcher had never said your name ever. To stunned to speak but still boiling with anger. You try to turn away putting on your headphones.

He pulls them off “I think the fuck not”

“Oh so now you want to act like you care like you’re my daddy”

You continued on “You treat me like shit just to care now, fuck you butcher”

Hughie tries to intervene “Guys come on-“

You turn to him “Hughie thanks for the back up but I swear to fucking god-“ you feel a hand go across your face. You hold your face.

You hear Frenchie in the back of the van “oh shit”

You turn to Butcher “Did you just fucking slap me”

[deansbite]

　　　𝒥𝒞　　｡　　you get what you ask for

pairings　𓎟𓎡 ₊ ˖　afab!reader x soldier boy / ben

warnings　𓎟𓎡 ₊ ˖　18+ mdni !!　kinktober　pillow humping　dry humping　humiliation　degrading　praise　orgasm denial　mentions of spanking　irritated!ben　needy!reader　implied bratty!reader　voyeurism (fav funky word)

summary　𓎟𓎡 ₊ ˖　ben had reached his breaking point with you, little did you know that he would be taking it out on you. You knew you wanted his attention, very greedy for it in fact, but you didn’t know how humiliating it was from your perspective. How do you like it now having your orgasm privileges taken away from you?

READERS POV

　 　 ════ 　⋆　❜𓏲　⋆ 　════

You truly don't know how you even got into this situation. It was humbling, you went from testing Ben’s limits over and over again and riling him up, to having a pillow propped up between your legs. You wanted attention, yeah.. but this? This just made you feel smaller and smaller by the second with how Ben was staring you down. He was sat across from you, in an arm chair. He was leaned back, relaxed and his arms were crossed. You notice his eyebrow raise in expectation.

“Whatcha waitin' for, sweetcheeks? Thought you wanted this.. thought you wanted my attention?” he taunted, just ever so slightly — but the tone of his voice was so soft, but you and he both were on the same page when it came to agreeing that he was irritated with you. You batted your eyelashes at him, maybe to sort-of calm him down. Although he refused to budge. “Come on, raw dog that pillow like you usually do when you miss me.” he said it in a tone that would make you think he was suggesting you to do it.

But you knew better than to piss ben off twice. Sure, he was a giant bear and much, much more gentle when it came to you. Despite that, he still tamed you in a way. He wasn't ever violent. 'Cause god knows he could snap you in half like a twig in a second if he wanted too. Though he did occasionally spank you, the degradation, but you were used to it. One thing he hadn't done with you yet was you humping a soldier boy pillow in front of his very eyes.

You did tell him about it, when he went out you would occasionally hump the very special pillow he had bought for you and the exact same pillow he told you how he wanted you to hump it when he went out on missions with Billy, Hughie, MM, Frenchie and Kimiko who tagged along for Frenchie. nothing new, of course, yet still embarrassing.

So, before you could agitate Ben any further, you ground your hips down on the pillow. You had your panties seperating your basically aching core from the fabric you were grinding against. Your breath hitched and your head was thrown back after a couple more minutes of the same, repeated motion. It was a swift and smooth looped movement. “Eyes on me or the pillow, darlin'.” His voice dragged you out of your current thoughts and you immediately nodded, eyes focused on emerald green eyes that were practically boring into your skull.

“And I want a clear, verbal response from ya the moment you're about to cum, mkay, sweetheart?” Ben told you, his tongue darting out his mouth to apply a thin, glossy coat of saliva that sat perfectly on his plump lips. “Hey, I asked you somethin', answer me." and, you hadn't answered after a couple of minutes, so, he started speaking again. "Hey, look at me, or is your pretty little mind filled with dirty thoughts of me. hmm? Fuckin' whore. When I ask somethin' you damn well know to answer. Just like when you ask me sumthin' you get what you ask for, don'tcha baby?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

The words caused an immediate reaction out of you, your eyes widened and a light pink hue appeared on your cheeks. You swallowed thickly, gathering all possible thoughts. “And I didn't tell you to fuckin' stop, now, did I? Come on, I knew you became a good little cockwhore for me when I fill your cunt up all nice like a good bitch. But I didn't expect you to become all incoherent and brainless 'cause of a goddamn pillow." He scoffed to himself. "Guess anything can turn you on.” the absolute filth escaping his lips caused your body to react — whether you wanted, too or not.

Your hips got back to work, hands gripping onto the fabric with Bens face on it, your pussy rubbing against the material of your panties and the soft object. Strings of moans and curses escaping your lips that could put a sailors mouth to shame. All in the meanwhile, you could see Ben shift ever so slightly in the armchair, his arms still crossed over his chest and just.. watching.

This was beyond humiliating. You were basically naked — only thing covering you up being your underwear, so the cool air hit your chest and you were panting. Not to mention, you just felt yourself heating up more and more even when you started to think it would stop.

You started to try to get off more, by imagining Bens hands running all ovef your body, stopping at your hips and gripping onto them with that strong grip of his, he would tease just in the slightest bit — and then finally connect his tongue to your entrance -

Before you realized it, you felt your orgasm forming in the pit of your stomache, the stimulation against your cunt and the filthy things that left Bens mouth and the way he was watching without even doing anything was just too much. “I'm about.. I'm about —” you were stumbling over your words as your movements got sloppier and uncoordinated, just seeking release without much thought behind it.

You were right on the edge until it all came to an abrupt stop. You were stopped dead in your tracks and you, very rightfully, were confused. You slowly had felt a grip on your hips. You let out a pathetic whine and glanced at Ben, you didn't even notice him walk over to you. He had a neutral expression and maybe even a little annoyed. “Told you to tell me when you were gonna cum, hm? Can't even follow simple orders. Exactly why I should fill your mouth if you ain't even gon' use it right, sweetcheeks.” he paused, "Or maybe.. I should just not give you what you ask for. Leave you all pent up and leave you to wait for the next time I’ll use you again, isn't that right, doll?"

Before you could even get a word out, he let go of your hips, reached between your legs and in a painfully slow way, grabbed onto the pillow and removed it from between your thighs. Leaving you pretty much dissatisfied and your own arousal and slick coating your underwear which was.. in one word, uncomfortable.

"Made a fuckin' mess on my face, baby." he tutted, point out the wet patch over his face on the fabric of the pillow. "If I find out you pleased yourself, you'll be in a lot of trouble. I mean it, doll. Don't test me with this. You've pissed me off more than enough today." he shoved the pillow under his armpit and leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss against your lips before he pulled away as soon as he connected his with yours.

"I know your body well enough to know if you lie, baby." he warned one last time before he exited your shared bedroom. You felt the cool air hit you and your uncomfortable ache and the high that you were about to reach was sizzling down.

　 　 ════ 　⋆　❜𓏲　⋆ 　════

okay this was actually my first EVER smut fic i wrote in like. laate august or start of october i dont remember but this freak @fourkilljoys proofread it n i am surely not reading this shit again so!!!! heh.. i hope u enjoyed

tags: @pearlzier @fallbhind @beausling @dollsltt @psychicnatural @deanswidow @gibson-g1rl @fourkilljoys

amab vers: right here

[geminiwritten]

undercover ; billy butcher

fandom: the boys

pairing: billy x reader

summary: you have to go undercover as butcher’s wife to vought’s annual supe celebration - prompt (that i don’t remember where i saw it, i’m sorry!): “I bet you one hundred dollars that you’re hard right now.” *he stands up and drops $100 on the table*

notes: i wrote this in one day and you can tell!!! it’s so rushed, i’m so sorry, but also i’m just hot for this man and refuse to stop??? let me know what you think!

warnings: swearing, very small alcohol consumption, very light smut, and a bit of harassment from an unwelcome dude

word count: 6496

“You have a thing for Butcher?” Hughie gasps, the apartment door swinging open as he steps inside.

Annie’s eyes grow wide, her hand covering her mouth to try and hide her cheeky smile. You scowl at her before turning to Hughie, his face a comical mixture of disgust and amusement.

“What have I said about eavesdropping on movie night, Hubert?” you demand, calling him by the stupid nickname you know he hates.

He rolls his eyes, “I wasn’t eavesdropping, I texted Annie to say I was on my way home. It’s not my fault you’re practically shouting about the fact that you want to fu-”

“Hughie,” Annie giggles, “be careful.”

“Hey,” he says, turning to her, “I’m just repeating what I heard.”

You hold your face in your hands and groan, sinking back into the soft couch cushions and praying that they might open up and swallow you into a different dimension.

“I’m sorry,” Annie sighs, “I honestly just lost track of time.”

Hughie drops his keys and wallet on the kitchen bench alongside two plastic bags that wreak of cheap Chinese food. Your stomach grumbles at the smell, and you reluctantly pull yourself off the couch before dragging your feet toward the kitchen.

“So,” Hughie says with a grin, “how long has this been going on then?”

“Nothing is going on,” you state, “and it’s certainly none of your business.”

“Oh, come on, it’s not like I’m going to tell anyone,” he begins helping you unpack the bags of food, “besides, I had a sneaking suspicion. You do kind of look at him like-”

You pull a butterknife out of the draw and point it at him, “Like what?”

He freezes, his hands flying up on either side of his head in surrender.

Annie laughs again, “Okay, you two, cut it out.”

You put the knife down and retrieve three full sets of cutlery before setting a stack of bowls beside the containers of food. Hughie serves himself first before Annie fills her own bowl and you last, already shovelling mouthfuls of noodles into your mouth as you move back toward the couch.

“You know,” Hughie says between mouthfuls, “if you wanted to talk about it, I might be able to help.”

You scoff, “Yeah? How?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know, talk to him.”

“And say what?” you drop your fork into your bowl, mocking Hughie’s voice as you say, “Hey Butcher, do you think Y/N is hot, because I know she dreams about fucking you.”

He scowls at you, “I can be subtle.”

Annie giggles, hiding her face behind her bowl as Hughie casts his glare toward her.

“I appreciate your concern, Hughie,” you say, “but I think I’ll just stick to fantasising about him in the shower.”

His expression morphs into disgust as he begins choking on his mouthful of food, his face turning bright red. Annie’s laughter fills the room, and you join her while Hughie struggles to compose himself.

To your surprise, and relief, Hughie agrees to keep your little secret to himself. He doesn’t even make a stupid face the next day when the three of you arrive at the boys’ current hideout, finding MM, Frenchie, Kimiko, and the man himself huddled around the dining room table.

“Righ’ on time,” Butcher says with a grin, “let’s get to it, then.”

You knew he was excited about this next mission, if you could call it that. Everyone was, in fact, because thanks to Annie’s excellent intel, you were all attending Vought’s annual ball. A night of celebration to thank the mighty Supes for keeping the streets safe, or as Butcher liked to call it, Vought’s annual wank-fest.

“Your invitations are all sorted,” Annie says, pulling a small handful of envelopes out of her bag. “Hughie came up with all your aliases, so please stick to them, or you’ll be kicked out in a heartbeat. Security is tough at this thing, and there’ll be no talking yourselves out of a bad situation.”

She looks pointedly at Butcher, but his smirk only widens.

“Frenchie,” Hughie says, “you’re going as a member of the tech team, so you’ll be behind the scenes and keeping an eye on the cameras for anything suspicious.”

Frenchie rubs his hands together excitedly, taking the envelope from Annie and tearing it open.

“Monsieur Felipe Lavigne, senior security technician,” he announces, reading the ID card aloud.

“MM and Kimiko, you’ll be with me,” Hughie goes on, “we’ll be posing as press on behalf of the city council. There’s a huge group of council members and associates, so all we have to do is blend in.”

MM takes two envelopes and passes one to Kimiko.

Hughie turns to you, “I originally had you listed as press too, but then decided it might be smart to double down on Butcher’s alias, give him another level of cover, you know?”

You frown, tilting your head sceptically as he hands you and Butcher an envelope each.

“You’ll be attending as prospective stakeholders, invited by corporate to bask in the glory of Vought in the hopes that you’ll invest in their cause,” Hughie explains. “An affluent couple from upstate New York, recently immigrated from Britain after growing bored of your rich English lifestyle.”

You’re almost positive your brows have reached your hairline as you stare at the envelope in your hands, your trembling fingers struggling to pull the ID badge out.

“Brooklyn Williams,” you read aloud.

Annie shoots Hughie a look, promising that he would be paying for this later, and you realise that he must have made this decision in the past twelve hours without consulting her.

“William Williams,” Butcher says, frowning at Hughie, “really?”

Despite being the target of several unhappy stares, Hughie chuckles.

Frenchie snickers too, “At least you will not forget it, eh?”

“Smart move, Hughie,” MM speaks up, “Butcher is the one most likely to be caught, but with Y/N in tow, he might think twice about putting himself in danger.”

Butcher rolls his eyes, “Do none of you ‘ave any faith in me?”

Hughie, Frenchie, and MM respond in unison, “No.”

The seven of you spend the next two hours going over the details of your aliases and the agenda of the function. It’s going to be a huge event, which meant little risk of actually running into Homelander or anyone who might recognise any of you. Annie won’t be able to help on the night, being one of the spotlight attendees, but that isn’t what’s was making you nervous. You’re going to have to spend a good five hours pretending to be married to Butcher, the one man you desperately want and the one man you were trying very hard not to fall in love with.

After what feels like forever, Frenchie announces that he is going to get dinner and Annie bids you all goodbye to check in at Vought tower. Hughie sets his laptop up at the desk in the corner of the lounge room while MM excuses himself for his nightly facetime call with Janine.

Kimiko turns to you, signing a question about what you were all going to wear on the night.

“Annie helped me organise some things,” you reply, gesturing toward the suitcase by the door. “You should try it on now, and if you don’t like it we can find something else.”

You know Kimiko isn’t a fan of cocktail attire, and you definitely didn’t want her walking into the dragon’s den worrying about the way she looked or if she’d be able to fight should the need arise.

“What ‘bout me, love?” Butcher asks, his signature smirk curling the corner of his lips.

Your cheeks burn under his gaze, “You don’t get a choice, you’ll be wearing a suit.”

He chuckles, “I do love a stubborn woman, must’ve been why I married you.”

Your pulse thrums in your ears, and you fail to think of a sarcastic retort, instead turning away in the hopes that he hasn’t already noticed the bright colour in your cheeks.

Kimiko drops the case on its back with a thud, unzipping it quickly and throwing it open to pull out each of the bagged costumes. There are four suits of various styles with varying accessories, and two dresses. She stands holding the one labelled with her name, dragging the zip right down the middle and revealing the soft black fabric of her dress. It isn’t quite full length, hemmed just below the knee in a pencil skirt style and devoid of any embellishments. A simple black dress with long sleeves, fitted but flexible.

She grins, signing to you that it is perfect and thanking you for not putting her in anything ridiculous.

“We chose two pairs of shoes too,” you say, “in case you don’t want to wear the heels.”

Butcher strides toward the suitcase and picks up the last bag, but you follow him, quickly snatching it out of his hands before he can pull the zip.

“My dress can wait until the night,” you hold it behind your back for good measure, “I’m still not sure about it.”

He quirks one brow, “You’re not wearin’ latex, are ya?”

You roll your eyes before turning on your heel, taking your dress into your room and tucking it into the back of your closet. You fall back on your bed, your chest rising and falling with deep breaths as you try to calm your erratic pulse. It’s just one night, you can hold it together for one night, right?

The next two days pass in a blur of preparations and planning, and before you know it, you’re staring at the dress hanging in your closet with a towel wrapped around your body. Your hair is clean and curled, pulled into a half up do with twisted gold pins creating the illusion of diadem just below the crown of your head. You took a little longer to do your makeup than usual, out of practice in the art of winged eyeliner and false lashes, but in the end, you were proud. Now, the dress.

Your fingers are numb as you pull the zipper down, revealing the red silk material of the gown that Annie convinced you would be a good idea. You blame her for this just as much as Hughie.

“Come on, Y/N,” MM calls through your bedroom door, “we have to go.”

You sigh and throw your towel aside, hurriedly pulling the dress off its hanger. The material is cool against your skin, sliding easily over your curves and fitting your body like a tailor-made glove. You twist awkwardly to secure the zip before turning to the mirror.

The dress is floor length, a few inches of the red silk pooling at your feet, with a long slit reaching scandalously up to your left hip. The straps are about an inch thick, and the neck cowled, showcasing your breasts and the perfect amount cleavage. The silk hugs your torso, and you’re a little startled at just how good you feel in this dress.

Another knock at the door has you rushing to slip into your beige heels, and you check that your underwear are pulled high enough to not be seen in the slit of the dress before opening the door. MM’s jaw drops.

“Holy shit, Y/N.”

You blush, “Thanks.”

Being the gentleman he is, he tears his eyes away from you, offering you his arm with a cheeky grin plastered across his face.

In the lounge room, Kimiko is helping Frenchie with his tie and Hughie is struggling to secure his suspenders to his trousers. Your breath catches when your eyes land on Butcher, dressed in a classic and perfectly fitted black tux. He has even trimmed his beard and styled his hair, still a little dishevelled but holy shit, does the sight of him make your mouth water.

“Damn,” Hughie says when he sees you, “nice dress.”

“Nice suspenders.”

He chuckles, “Are we ready?”

Butcher turns to you, his jaw going slack and his eyes dark. Your chest squeezes, your lungs struggling to draw enough breath as your head spins from the lack of oxygen.

“Ready,” MM says beside you.

“Good,” Hughie tucks his ID badge into his shirt pocket, “I’ve organised two cars, one for Y/N and Butcher, and the other for the rest of us. Once we’re there, we can’t slip up, keep your masks up and don’t even look at anyone you think might recognise you.”

You check your small black clutch for your ID badge and phone.

“Earpieces are too risky tonight,” he continues, “so keep your phones on you, and if one of us is out, we all abort.”

Kimiko checks her own purse and the boys check their pockets before you all shuffle out the door. Hughie, MM, Frenchie, and Kimiko exit the building first, leaving you and Butcher alone in the lobby.

“You ready, sweethear’?” he asks, gazing at you with the same dark eyes as before.

You nod, “As I’ll ever be.”

After a minute, you exit the apartment and climb into the awaiting car. Butcher greets the driver as the car pulls away from the curb, and you take the chance to pull your phone out, typing out a quick message to Hughie.

‘I’m going to kill you.’

Your phone pings before you can put it away, and you quickly turn it to silent before reading his reply.

‘You’re welcome ;)’

A warm hand on your bare legs startles you, the heat sinking into your blood and making it sizzle through your veins.

“You sure you’re alrigh’?” Butcher asks.

“Yeah,” you mutter, “just nervous.”

His thumb rubs soft circles on your thigh, sending shockwaves of desire right to your core.

“Nothin’ to be worried ‘bout, love, I’ve got you.”

Your eyes almost roll back in your head at the sound of his deep voice. He truly does not know how much he does have you, all of you.

“Thanks, Billy,” you whisper, your voice unsteady.

His eyes don’t leave you for the duration of car ride, and your pulse refuses to settle. Anxiety and desire tangle in your stomach, twisting it into loops and winding the knot in your core even tighter than it already was.

Eventually, the car stops, and you both thank the driver before climbing out. You’re not at the main entrance of the building, but there is still a ridiculous number of security guards standing around, and barriers preventing anyone without an invitation from getting within twenty feet of the door. Butcher wraps an arm around your waist to guide you forward, his warmth shielding you from the cold night air.

“By the way,” he whispers, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, “you look fuckin’ delectable in that dress.”

Another wave of heat washes through your veins, and it takes every ounce of focus for you to not stumble up the walkway. Two security guards step forward as you both flash your ID badges.

“Mr. and Mrs. Williams,” the guard in front of Butcher says, scanning the barcodes on the badges, “welcome to Vought tower.”

The security guard in front of you is younger than the other, his blonde hair slicked back and his mouth etched into a sleazy smirk as his eyes rake up and down your body. He winks as he steps aside, and Butcher notices, his expression twisting into a scowl.

Just as you reach the doors, Butcher’s hand slips from your waist to your ass, squeezing it as he dips down and plants a hot kiss against your neck.

“Fuckin’ perve,” he mutters, before guiding you through the doors and down the corridor.

Your mouth is dry and your knees wobbly, but you move with practice and manage to appear cool and collected as you step into the huge event room. It’s extravagantly decorated with drapes of sheer fabric hanging from the high ceilings and a huge crystal chandelier in the centre. There are dozens of round tables, all set with fine silver-wear and obnoxious centrepieces made of red and white roses.

“Nice to know where all our money will be going if we decide to invest, darlin’,” Butcher says with a cheeky grin.

You giggle, letting him guide you through the clusters of elegantly dressed attendees toward where you assumed your table would be. You don’t remember ever finding out that piece of information, but you assume either Hughie or Annie told Butcher while you were still reeling about having to play ‘happy couple’ with him.

You listen carefully to snippets of conversations as you pass, waiting for anything interesting to catch your attention. Butcher stops at an empty table and pulls out a chair, you smile in thanks before taking a seat, quickly shuffling forward to avoid flashing everyone due to the ridiculously high split in your dress. Butcher notices though, chuckling to himself as he takes the chair beside you.

Before you can speak, he places a hand on your bare leg and squeezes, knocking every thought right out of your head.

You gasp, “I-It’s hot in here, is it hot in here?”

“I think that’s jus’ you, sweethear’,” he replies with a wink.

The room quickly fills with guests, conversations growing louder and drowning out the soft music playing over the speakers. Eventually, a woman takes the stage and the room falls quiet, listening to her lengthy introduction about how grateful Vought were for this night and how wonderful it is to be able to celebrate America’s finest superheroes. You can barely hear her though, your ears filled with the thrum of your pulse as Butcher’s fingers draw patterns on your leg. Your core aches, and you shift in your seat only to feel the dampness between your legs.

When the room erupts into applause, Butcher’s hand freezes, and you turn to see Homelander striding onto the stage, his hair blinding beneath the bright spotlight.

“Hey,” you whisper, placing a hand on top of Butcher’s, “you okay?”

He turns to you and his scowl relaxes, a soft smile pulling on his lips. “Yeah,” he replies, “I’m good.”

You slip your other hand beneath his, praying that he doesn’t notice how sweaty your palms are as you play with his fingers beneath the table. Although you had started in the hopes of calming him, you find your own sense of relaxation in his touch, focusing on the feeling of his skin as Homelander drawls on about Vought and The Seven.

After what feels like an eternity, he finishes his speech and the room cheers again. The woman returns to the microphone to announce the first course of food before music and conversation fills the air, and you turn your attention toward the centre of the table. Butcher grips your hand as you attempt to move it, entwining his fingers with yours and only allowing one of your hands free.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you two at one of these events before,” the woman beside you says.

She’s older but extremely elegant, with a pendant around her neck that you don’t doubt costs more money than you’ll ever get to see in your bank account.

“We’re new in town,” you reply, your voice very slightly lilted, “just moved from London’s east end, actually.”

“How charming,” she places a hand against her pendant, “I’m Lucille, and this is my husband, Jack.”

The podgy man beside her nods, his cheeks and nose bright red as he guzzles from his glass of champagne.

“Pleasure to meet you,” you say, “I’m Brooklyn, and this is my husband, William.”

You cast a glance at Butcher, only to find his eyes already locked on you, sparkling under the soft yellow lights. He has dopey smile on his lips and an emotion you can’t discern floating behind his gaze. Your stomach flips.

“You do make a charming, if you don’t mind my saying,” Lucille says.

You nod, your cheeks tingling with warmth, “Thank you.”

“So,” her husband, Jack, speaks up, his voice gruff, “what brings you here?”

You wait a beat for Butcher to reply, but he only watches you with that same expression.

“To be totally honest with you, I’m not sure,” you reply with a half-hearted laugh, “we have been thinking about investing, but I do wonder why a company of this immensity even needs investors.”

Jack chuckles, “You’ve got that right, seems greedy, doesn’t it?”

Lucille frowns at her husband before turning back to you, “We don’t do it for them, we do it for our grandkids, for their future. In the hopes that they will have a future, a safe one. This world is a nasty place.”

“You’re not wrong about that,” you sigh.

She nods, “That’s why it’s important to protect what you love, and hold on to it.”

Butcher’s hand squeezes yours, making your heart thump violently within your chest. You turn to him and meet his eyes, the fire in your veins blazing with a new intensity and heating every inch of your skin.

“I-If you’ll excuse me,” you stammer, pushing your chair back, “I need to use the bathroom.”

Butcher nods as you stand, and you can hear Lucille strike up new conversation while you weave between the tables toward the exit. Fresh air fills your lungs the moment you reach the foyer, and you pull your phone out of your bag, finding Hughie’s contact name with trembling fingers.

‘If I survive tonight, I WILL kill you.’

You hit send and turn toward the bathroom, almost stumbling when you see the same blonde security guard who had been stationed at the doors.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” he asks, his slimy smirk loading the question with innuendo.

“I’m okay,” you reply, “thank you.”

He steps forward before you can move, “You sure? You look a little flustered. Perhaps a step outside might help? It does get awfully hot in here.”

The first spark of fear rattles up your spine.

“I appreciate that, but I just need to use the restroom,” you say.

His smirk doesn’t falter, “Well, if you change your mind, let me know. I’d be more than happy to escort you. Can’t have a stunning woman such as yourself wandering the streets alone.”

You force a polite smile onto your face as you step around him and hurry down the corridor toward the bathrooms. With one subtle glance over your shoulder, you see him watching, still standing at the end of the hall looking almost predatory.

“Shit,” you whisper to yourself, turning sharply into the first stall.

You close the toilet lid and sit on top if it, holding your head in your hands and counting your breaths. After a minute of trying to wrangle your wild thoughts, you decide that Butcher is either a fantastic actor or… in love with you. Your heart aches to agree with the latter, but your brain fights for reason, reminding you that you’re in an incredibly sensitive situation and he is only acting like this to keep up the façade.

You sigh and stand up, panic piercing your chest when you remember the pushy security guard waiting for you in the foyer. You find your phone again, tapping on Butcher’s name and quickly typing out a message.

‘Don’t freak out, I’m totally fine, but I need you to come get me. Foyer.’

You count to thirty before exiting the stall and washing your hands, pleasantly surprised by your reflection in the mirror, aside from the deep red splashed across your cheeks. You walk calmly out of the bathroom and down the corridor, ignoring the spike in your pulse when you see the back of the security guard still standing there.

He turns around at the sound of your footsteps, a smirk curling his lips. “Hey gorgeous, are you-”

“There you are,” Butcher calls, striding toward you.

He wraps an arm around your waist, his hand splayed across your lower back as he presses your body against his. You don’t have time to respond before his lips capture yours. Your knees almost buckle, your hands gripping his shoulders for support as his mouth moves against yours and your mind goes completely blank.

He pulls back ever so slightly, his forehead still touching yours as he whispers, “I missed you.”

The feeling that bubbles in your chest makes your heart want to explode.

“Better get back in there,” he says, carefully releasing you.

You nod, unable to summon a single word as he looks at you like that, his pupils blown and his lips swollen from the kiss. He takes one of your hands in his and pulls you toward the doors before casting a menacing scowl over his shoulder at the security guard.

“Did he touch you?” he asks, his voice low.

You shake your head, “No.”

“Good.”

“Wait,” you tug on his hand before he can walk through the doors.

He frowns as you pull him to the side, into an alcove beneath the grand stairs that lead up to the private rooms above the event hall. He doesn’t resist when you press him against the wall, your hands on his chest and your body covering his. You look up at him through your thick lashes, and you can feel a soft groan rumble through his chest.

“I’m not sure we were convincing enough,” you whisper, before surging up and pressing your lips against his.

His hands hold the back of your head as he tilts his own to deepen the kiss, his tongue pushing past your lips and making you whimper. Your ears fill with the erratic thrum of your heart and the soft moans from the man in front of you, making you forget about everything that isn’t him. The fire rushing through your veins collects at your core, burning with need and making you clench as his hands wander down your back to cup your ass.

Time loses all meaning as you tangle your limbs with his, your body throbbing almost painfully. You have to stop yourself from clawing at his clothes, every desire within you craving to tear his suit apart and absolutely devour him.

Eventually, your lungs begin to burn, and the short gasps between kisses aren’t enough to appease them, so you pull away. His pupils are huge, consuming almost all of the colour in his eyes as he studies your face with a small smile.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he murmurs.

You open your mouth to tell him the same when someone clears their throat, and you both snap toward the sound. Hughie is standing a few feet away, his ID badge now on a lanyard around his neck and a notebook in his hand. His face looks pained, struggling to contain what would be a hysterical laugh if you weren’t all supposed to be undercover.

You stumble back from Butcher with wide eyes, your mouth trying to form words but no sound comes out.

Butcher straightens his jacket and clears his throat, “Sorry, mate, as you were.”

Hughie takes a deep breath and turns toward the room, and you have to commend him for his self-control.

Butcher looks down at you, “D’you think that was convincing enough?”

You giggle, “Maybe a little too convincing.”

He smirks and swipes his thumb across your bottom lip, wiping at the smeared lipstick. You know you must look like a wreck, your makeup smudged and your face blotchy and red, but you don’t care.

“Better get back in there before you get me arrested for public indecency,” he says, taking your hand in his.

You laugh again as he leads you back into the room, guiding you through the throngs of people and toward your table. Lucille greets you with a smile, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she surveys your flustered state. Butcher sits and shuffles his chair closer to yours before placing a hand on your thigh, much higher than where it was before.

“It’s a wonderful thing, isn’t it?” Lucille whispers to you.

You frown, “What is?”

“That love and passion,” she replies with a grin. “He just adores you, I can tell. Don’t ever let go of what you two have, it’s rare.”

You try to hide your smile, but it’s almost impossible. “I won’t.”

You’re not sure what you’ve missed but you assume it was Annie’s speech as the chatter around you is filled mostly with her name. The woman from before returns to the stage to rave some more, though you don’t bother trying to pay attention. Butcher is watching you with hungry eyes, filling your head with filthy thoughts and absolutely soaking your panties.

“So, Mrs. Williams,” he says, his voice low, “got any plans after this?”

“Not really,” you reply, “but I do think there’s a toy in the top drawer of my dresser calling my name.”

He swallows thickly, “Is that so?”

You nod, “I’m feeling a little wound up.”

“Perhaps I could help you unwind,” he whispers, “think I’d do a better job than that fuckin’ toy.”

“That’s a bold statement, are you sure?”

His fingers dig into your thighs with enough pressure to bruise, making your whole body jolt.

“Oh, I’m fuckin’ sure.”

His hand slides up your thigh and you part your legs instinctively.

He smirks, “Good girl, so responsive.”

The burning in your core pulses, sending white hot waves of desire up your spine to cloud your mind. His fingers brush the crotch of your panties, barely a touch but enough to make you sigh softly.

“You’re soaked,” he whispers, “so ready for my c-”

Cheers erupt throughout the room, drowning out his voice and startling you out of your stupor. His hand slides back down your leg and his smirk breaks into a devilish grin when you look at him with a scowl.

“Sorry, love,” he says as he retrieves his phone from his jacket pocket.

You take a moment to collect your thoughts, drawing steady breaths and trying to focus on anything but the man beside you. He chuckles at his phone before tucking it back into his pocket.

“Was that your mistress?” you tease.

He raises his brows, “Is that jealousy I’m hearin’?”

You slide your hand up his thigh, stopping just below his crotch to squeeze.

“You tell me, do I have anything to be jealous of?”

His voice is almost a groan, “Never.”

“Good.”

You slide your hand over his crotch, relishing in the way his whole body tenses before you pull back and fold your hands in your own lap. He sighs and takes a generous gulp from his glass of champagne, grimacing at the taste before leaning toward you with an arm over the back of your chair.

“You’re a fuckin’ tease, you know that?”

You turn to him, your face barely an inch from his, “Oh, baby, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

He leans back in his chair, his jaw tense but his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“You fond of that dress?” he asks casually.

“This old thing? Nah.”

He nods once, “Good, because I’m goin’ to fuckin’ destroy it.”

The woman sitting on his other side chokes on her mouthful of champagne, casting an abhorrent glare toward the two of you before completely turning her back. You have to swallow your laughter, averting your gaze to your lap as Butcher chuckles quietly.

You feel your purse vibrate at the same time that Butcher reaches for his pocket. You pull your phone out and check the messages, finding several from Hughie.

‘We’re here to WORK, not fornicate.’

‘I just spent five minutes laughing to myself in the toilet.’

‘The shows closing soon, we should leave before the crowds. Unless you and Butcher are busy ;)’

“D’you think you can make it out of here without your knees bucklin’, love?” Butcher asks with a smirk.

You tuck your phone away and twist in your chair so that your legs are toward him, parting them slowly. The red silk slides against your skin and the split opens with your legs. Butcher’s gaze drops, his whole face turning red as his eyes grow wide.

“I bet you a hundred dollars that you’re rock hard right now,” you whisper, leaning forward.

His jaw twitches as his gaze moves to your chest, and you smirk before twisting toward Lucille.

“We’re going to duck out before the masses, but it was lovely meeting you,” you say, “and best wishes to your grandkids. They’re lucky to have such incredible grandparents.”

She smiles at you, her eyes watery, “It was lovely meeting you too, dear.”

Her husband grumbles a farewell and you smile politely at the rest of the table who you hadn’t bothered to meet before turning back to Butcher expectantly. You have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from giggling at the way he shifts in his seat.

“Pleasure meeting you,” he nods toward Lucille and Jack.

He pushes his chair back and stands up, drawing a hand out of his pocket and dropping two fifty dollar bills onto the table before stepping back. A grin breaks across your face as you snatch the money and stand up, taking Butcher’s outstretched hand and letting him lead you out of the room. You almost stumble at the pace at which he drags you through the crowds, not stopping until you’re through the foyer, out the doors, and a good distance from the building’s entrance.

“You owe me,” he growls, yanking on your wrist so that you fall into his arms.

“Take whatever you want,” you whisper, “I’m all yours.”

Another rumble vibrates through his chest, and the knot of anticipation in your stomach twists tighter.

“Good, you’re here,” Hughie calls, his feet slapping against the pavement as he jogs toward you.

Butcher’s hold goes slack, and you take a reluctant step away from him as MM and Kimiko follow a few paces behind Hughie. The cold air nips at your bare skin, making you shiver.

“Where’s Frenchie?” MM asks.

“On his way,” Hughie replies with his phone in his hand, “and the car is close.”

You startle at the feeling of material falling around your shoulders, and glance up as Butcher steps in front of you, his arms guiding his blazer over your trembling body. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, looking up at him through your thick lashes as his lips curl into a soft smile. He moves back to stand at your side and wraps one arm around you, pulling you against side.

Hughie’s grin is so wide you want to slap it off his face.

“Not a word,” Butcher mutters.

Hughie chuckles, “I didn’t say anything.”

MM is clearly amused, and even Kimiko is giggling when Frenchie comes jogging up behind them.

“Did I miss something?” he asks, his brows raised as he looks from Butcher to you.

“Car’s here,” Hughie announces, and you all step toward the curb.

Hughie climbs in the front seat and greets the driver before texting rapidly on his phone, no doubt messaging Annie to let her know you were all safe and heading home. Kimiko and Frenchie shuffle toward the back of the van, and MM grumbles when neither you nor Butcher volunteer to join them. He squeezes between the two of them on the backseat before Butcher helps you into the van, and you take the single seat behind the passenger as Butcher falls into the last seat behind the driver.

You shrink into his jacket, enveloping yourself in his scent and relishing the warmth that his body had left behind. His eyes don’t leave you for the duration of the trip, studying your face, lingering on your lips, and moving up and down your body over and over again.

The drive feels much longer than it should, but the car finally pulls up outside your apartment block and you all pile out. Frenchie begins rambling about pieces of information he overheard, and MM fills in some of the gaps with snippets that he picked up in the press crowd. You almost feel guilty that you did nothing but dry hump Butcher and chat with an elderly rich woman, but that guilt washes away the moment you step inside the apartment.

“Bed, now,” Butcher tells you, tugging you by your hand toward the master bedroom.

“Y/N,” Hughie calls before you can disappear, “I thought your bedroom was that way.”

You turn to him with a frown, finding that stupid boyish grin stretched across his lips as the rest of the room watches you with amused faces.

“I’m not going to sleep, Hughie,” you say, before turning to Butcher, “I’m not tired.”

You catch a glimpse of his disgusted expression before you turn and rush into Butcher’s bedroom, followed closely by the man himself. His hand catches the collar the jacket and pulls it off of you as you step toward the bed.

“Not tired?” he asks, starting on the top button of his shirt.

You sit on the edge of the bed and kick your heels off. “Not at all.”

“Good.”

In two strides, he’s right in front of you, using his knee to nudge your legs apart so he can stand between them. His eyes trace up your bare leg, stopping where the red material reveals an inch of your black panties, and he sighs.

“So,” you say, leaning back with your hands on the bed, “what do I owe you?”

His self-control snaps and his hands yank at the opening of his shirt, ripping the rest of the buttons apart before he shrugs it off his shoulders. He straddles your hips and pushes you back, his lips assaulting your neck as you writhe beneath him.

“You said, I could take whatever fuckin’ I want,” he mutters against your skin.

You only moan in response and he sinks his teeth into your neck, hard enough to leave a bruise before soothing it with his tongue.

“I’m gon’a take all of you,” he growls, “but first-”

He sits back suddenly, his fingers making quick work of his belt and the fastenings of his trousers.

“I made a promise to this dress,” he finishes, before gripping the material on either side of the slit and ripping it.

You gasp as the silk falls loose around your body, tearing right up to the neck and cleaving the dress apart entirely. His eyes rake over your bare skin as he licks his lips and drops onto his hands to hover over you, grinding his hips down and eliciting another moan from your mouth.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he sighs, “you’re gon’a kill me with those pretty noises, sweethear’.”

“Butcher,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I need you.”

His elbows buckle and his body falls on top of yours as his lips capture yours in a searing kiss.

“You have me,” he murmurs against your mouth, “you’ve got all of me.”

END.

[obsessedwrhys]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The Boys x Rogue!Reader (2)

ᯓ★ angst, fluff, typical the boys content, Butcher is an asshole?!?! (what a surprise) 😲. Reader is fem!! Here's part 1 if you missed it. (Didn't proof read because im sick again 🤒)

Sounds of muffled talking... needles poking through your skin... your mind fogged from the effects of the drugs... the heavy feeling of helplessness as you were tied down. Nothing you could do. You were hopeless. You didn't stand a chance.... Slowly you squint your eyes open as the vision of your friend's corpse comes to view. The horrifying sight jerking your body awake.

"Oh...oh..." You breath heavily with your body covered in cold sweat. The adrenaline coursing through your veins. You looked around to make sure you weren't inside your cage, but rather inside the room your brother had given to you.

When you were sure you were safe, you let out a relieved sigh as you rub your eyes, giving yourself a moment to settle down. Something tells you this won't be the last nightmare you'll have. Once you were sure you were in a stable condition, you got out of bed and decided to head downstairs to what seemed to be their office.

After last night when you were taken to their headquarters, Butcher offered you some clothes to change into and also making sure you were well fed. From how exhausted you were at the time, you could only remember talking about something to Butcher before passing out on his bed.

As you descend from the stairs, you couldn't help but peek your head to look at who were present. Even though they were told to be his friends. You yourself weren't that 100% willing to trust a bunch of strangers just because he said they were 'not the worst people he's met'. To your surprise it was just three people inside and they were each doing their things.

Butcher wasn't anywhere in sight.

This sucks.

Since you aren't planning to stand and wait at the stairway, you entered the office, it only took a few steps for your presence to be noticed. You sat on the sofa just a few feet from the girl who appeared to be busy writing in her book. She shoots you a warm smile which you hesitantly smiled back.

"I'm (Y/N)... what's your name?" You asked but she suddenly shifts her eyes from you to someone else. Curious, you looked over the sofa to see someone already approaching you.

"Her name's Kimiko..." He said as he takes a seat beside you.

"You still remember my name yes? I was the one who snuck you out" You thought for a second before finally recognising him.

"Frenchie right?" You asked and judging from the smile on his face. You must be right.

"I didn't get to say but thanks for rescuing me" You said to which he laughs.

"Ahh...! Don't thank me! Your brother would have skinned me alive if I refused. If you had seen his outrage when he found out Homelander had you involved, you'd think twice before pissing him off by saying no" He recalled, emphasising everything he says through his hand gestures and facial expressions.

"He does have a temper..." You uttered.

Just then the door opens and all four of you turned to see Butcher walking in with another guy. You got to your feet and went over to your brother who after taking off his coat, hands you the takeaway he had bought.

"Here ya go sis. I figured durin' your days as a lab rat you probably ate like one" He said as you realise he had bought you your favourite food.

The simple gesture somehow making you feel like a kid again. The simpler times where you felt stress free. Just sleep and eat. Though you didn't dwell too much into the feeling as the feeling of hunger soon made you quickly sit down and started eating. Butcher eyes you for a second before walking off to talk to his friend about something that you could care less about.

Mm... good food...

You were too focused gobbling down the food in front of you that you failed to notice the guy sitting on the chair before you. He watches you consciously as you ate like you never eaten in ages. It was when you began to choke that he panicked and quickly pushed the cup of water towards you. His hands retreating back to his lap to avoid any contact with your skin.

As you gulp down the water and finally waited for the burn in your chest to vanish was when you realised you had been eating like a wolf. Months of being locked up by Homelander felt like a physiological torture that you seemed to have lost all your self control. You really lost touch with humanity. It makes you hate him even more for what he did.

"Hey um... you holding up alright? We haven't properly met. I'm Hughie" He said once he sees you zoning out. You look at him with your brows slightly raised.

His voice was somehow soothing. Like the feeling of a fever dream.

"I'm (Y/N)"

"I know" He smiles slightly at you, almost like he's fascinated by your presence.

"So you're his sister. I didn't even think he had any family. He was always private about his life"

"So am I. I guess it runs in the family..."

Your harmless joke making him chuckle softly. As you go back to eating in a more slower pace, he couldn't help but watch your every movement. It was like watching a kid eating for the first time. When they had saved you, you were almost all bones. Your hands are trembling even now just from holding the spoon.

Just even thinking of that night, what still intrigued him was even after those months of torture you still had the energy to argue with your brother. It was there where he finally understood how you were both related. You were just as much as a fighter as your brother is.

"Ahh motherfucker" You cursed as you fan at the fly to get away from your food though the second it touches your skin, it instantly drops dead on the table.

The two of you stared at it as it twitches slightly before going limp.

Problem... solved?

"I assume that you did that on demand?"

"I... think so?"

Just when you thought things were ever gonna be back to normal, your powers always had to remind you of the true reality. The reality that you are NOT normal. Since you were curious of your new abilities, you reached out and touched the flower pot just placed in the center of the table.

Just one touch of your finger on the leaves. The plant slowly devolves from a lively colour to a rotting brown. The flower withers as the stem grows weak. Due to the lack of stability, it collapses completely. Somehow the sight of the dead plant made your throat dry. Images of your friend's corpse flashing in your mind.

Hughie took notice of your dilated eyes and decided to take the plant off the table, placing it carefully on the ground to make sure it's out of your sight. You could only take long breaths as you tried to get rid of the terrible image. Gosh... you can't even imagine how her family is dealing with this... or if they even know she's... sigh..

"Oi!" The sound of Butcher's call causing you two to look at him. When he waves at you to head over to him, you shoot Hughie an apologetic look as you got up to see what he's calling you for.

"You know you don't have to call me over like a dog, I have a name"

"Oh really? Your character hardly screams 'man's best friend', especially with that pissy look" He teases you with a slight smirk which you simply ignored.

"What is it?"

He stares at you, taking note of your expressionless face before nodding to himself. His whole demeanour becoming serious within seconds.

"It's about your powers" He said, his words catching your full focus in an instant.

"From what we've known... the only possibility for a non-supe person to have powers is to dose themselves with a modified version of compound v. But that's only temporary, and yours... are permanent" Butcher said, his eyes avoiding yours.

"Whatever they did to you, we're gonna figure it out... so, while I do that, M.M will be supervisin' you, won't ya M?" Butcher said, looking over his friend who's hunched over his table and writing something down.

"Well if it ain't me then who else is gonna"

"I can!" Frenchie spoke up, his forwardness catching everyone's attention. Once he realises the looks he was getting, he awkwardly smiles.

"You know, for research" He adds. You sigh as you close your eyes, turning your head to face your brother.

What are you getting yourself into at this point...

"Nothing you say quite makes sense to me. The fuck is a compound v??"

"It's what gives the supes their powers"

"What??" You narrow your brows.

"You're saying they weren't gifted?? Like, God didn't bless them and made them our saviours?? They're just a bunch of normal people high off of superpower drugs??" He grins widely at your conclusion.

"Congratulations sis, you're finally catchin' up" He said, giving you a pat on the back before walking away. You stand there, still a bit confused before going after him.

"Waitwaitwait, where are you going? You just got back a few minutes ago" You asked as he puts on his coat.

"I'm going to meet someone. Hopefully they can help me with your situation, or at least provide some insight on what Homelander did to you"

Homelander.

Just the mention of his name being said by someone made your blood boil.

You wanted to tear him apart.

"Alright... but don't take too long... okay?" You look at him, almost like you were trying to beg him to stay with your eyes. You could tell it was working when you saw how his face started to relax a bit.

"Yeah..." He reaches for your head but stops midway when he realises he can't.

The sad reality of wanting to hold his own sister could cost him his own life was completely breaking him.

All the more reason to meet up with this contact to figure out a solution.

He doesn't say anything after letting his hand fall to his side. You could only stand there and watch him leave. Somehow, some part inside of you was fearful of the speech Homelander gave you was becoming true. That his goal of striking fear in Butcher by using you was slowly working.

"Hey, (Y/N). I'm gonna need you to come here" M.M said. You didn't say anything but sat on the chair he instructed you to sit on. You watch as he scribbles something on his book before eventually turning to face you.

"Alright so I wrote down some theories and I need you to work with me" He said, his instructions pretty clear. Your eyes however couldn't help but peek at what he had written down.

Does it only work when it's in contact with skin?

Is it like poision? Or does it disintegrate everything it touches?

Can it be controlled?

If it's dangerous then how dangerous can it be?

"Here, put these on" He then handed you a pair of leather gloves.

You took it and did just as he said. You couldn't help but clench your hands a couple of times to adgust to the fabric of the gloves. Somehow you felt hopeful of this plan. Just then you see him pick up a small plant and placing it on the table in front of you. He nods his head towards it, telling you to touch it.

Though you hesitated... before finally obliging.

You let your fingertips touch the leaves just as you did only a few minutes ago to the other plant. To your surprise, it didn't change colour nor grow weak. It was perfectly fine. This discovery caused you to be overjoyed to the fact you were struggling to form words. M.M simply nodded as he wrote something in his book.

"Holy shit it worked" You exclaimed and couldn't help but stare down at your gloved hands.

"Guess the only thing that can stop you from hurting someone is those gloves..." He turns to face you once again. The smile on your face slightly drops at the mention of hurting someone.

"Guess so..." You uttered, a wave of sadness washing over the joy you were experiencing just now. This will have to be the new normal now...

"Hey, at least it's better than nothing" He said, giving you a comforting pat on the arm. You look at him with a grateful smile, acknowledging his optimistic view of the outcome.

For the next few days you were able to conduct several experiments with the boys. Ranging from testing out your strength to trying to read minds. There were definitely some very odd ideas they've come up with but neither of them wanted to leave out anything so they had to think of all the possibilities of what you could do. Although you were still uneasy about this new change, you felt reassured after knowing more about your powers. In a way you like to think that you had more control over yourself.

It was now Sunday, you were in their office resting on the sofa. Compared to your first day here, you could tell by your own body language that you were beginning to grow comfortable around the group. As you watched whatever was on the TV, you overheard a conversation going on between Butcher and M.M nearby. However judging by their tone it seemed to be about something serious.

"Seriously Butcher? You want to get him involved?" M.M said, displeased with something.

"Nobody knows this better than he does and I'm runnin' out of options"

"Options or patience Butcher, do you have any idea what he's done? If you ever so blink, he will put a bullet right between your eyes"

"Well then, you can rest assure that I'll keep my eyes wide open for any bullets" Butcher's stubbornness earning an annoyed grunt out of M.M.

"Relax mate... I've got this. When have I ever let you and the others down, huh?" He said, placing his hand on his shoulder.

"You actually want me to answer that?"

Without saying another word, Butcher simply walked away and you, who've been secretly hearing their conversation couldn't help but take a peek of your brother. Once you see him heading to the other part of the room far from the rest, you decided to get up and approach him.

"Are you having a fun time staring at the wall?" You said, pointing out how he has his arms folded as his hand is stroking his chin. His brows perked at your words.

"You're talkin' about me?" He scoffs.

"Honestly it's better than starin at your face... what do you want?" He looks at you, a playful look on his face.

"What were you talking about with M.M just now? Sounds like it was tough"

"Oh it's nothin', he's just being dodgy about the guy I strucked a deal with"

"If I heard it right, he also said he's slick enough to put a bullet through your head" You lift your gloved hand up to point at his forehead which he simply brush your hand away from his face.

"I've got my share of bullet wounds, I'll survive"

"Not through the skull though"

"How ironic, you've always did call me hard-headed sis" Just as he said that, he started to walk off like he always does when he feels himself being lectured by you, or anyone. That's why you stood in his way when he was just a few feet from the door.

"Where are you going?"

"What makes you think I'd tell you?"

"Okay, fine, don't tell me, just take me with you" He stares at you, unsure of what you were trying to do.

"No way in hell am I bringing you outside"

"If that's your concern then I can wear a disguise. Nobody will know it's me"

"Nobody is not my concern, my concern is you. What if you accidentally let a bit of your skin show and you, oh I don't know, turn a pedestrian into a fucking mummified corpse"

"What the fuck are you crying about? I can wear layers! C'mon, anything to get out of this cooped up place for once"

"You're complaining about this being cooped up? Tell me, would you rather spend a year here or that lab?"

"Hey fuck you! That is not what I meant! I just wanted to go outside!"

"Alright alright! Would you two quit it before you tear my ears off" M.M said, having to be the one to end the bickering.

"I was just about to leave anyways" Butcher didn't even look you in the eye and walked past you. His attitude was making you angrier than ever.

You just wanted to shout and throw things around. This is just like your argument with him regarding his path of going down a life of committing crimes against supes. He always never chooses to take you seriously. Yet even after years where you'd think the consequences of his actions would shape his character a bit, it sure as hell didn't, instead it just gave him a sloppy kiss on the face. You went upstairs into your bedroom and just as you open the door, you found Hughie inside. Awkward, he quickly stands from where he was crouching.

"What are you doing in my room?"

"Oh uh sorry I was looking for the tools Frenchie asked for, he said it was in Butcher's room... which... is... your room now..." He clears his throat as he avoids your gaze.

"Is it the yellow box with the 'Do not touch' note on it?"

"Y-Yeah how do you—?" Without even letting him finish, you were already heading over to your bed to get it out from underneath it. You hand it to him and he takes it with a surprised look. The heavy weight causing his body to drop a bit but he quickly recovers from it.

"I guess I'll go... thanks" He said but you had your back turned to him as you went to sit down on your bed, clearly indicating you weren't in the best mood. He walks to the door, though he doesn't leave. After hesitating, he turns around to face your back once again.

"You okay?" He calls out. His question leaving you feeling even more conflicted.

"Just Butcher" You replied.

Oh.

Somehow that simple answer clears it up. He may not have worked with him the longest but he's worked long enough to know that the man can be such a pain in the ass. Pretty much a day with the man is enough to get a clear picture of his personality. What didn't make it any better was the difference in their beliefs about the supes.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Hughie asks. You stared down at your hands that are scratching at your nails. You do wanna talk about it but you're not sure anyone would listen to you, like actually understand how you felt.

"Are you gonna judge me?" You asked.

"Judge you? Why would I do that?"

"Well... would you be concern if I told you I'm debating whether or not if I should punch him the next time I see him?" You looked at him, searching for his reaction.

"... would it make you feel better if I told you I once had?" He said and the image of someone like Hughie punching Butcher made you chuckle a bit to yourself.

"I find that very hard to believe... but did it at least feel good?" You look at him and you could see him slowly inviting himself into the room as the conversation continued on.

"It did. For a while..." Soon he sat himself beside you on the bed.

"I don’t wanna seem like I'm intruding but why is it that you guys are always at each other's throats... I mean, he really seems to care about you so shouldn't you two get along well?"

"Psssh... he doesn't care about me"

"Errr, if he didn't he wouldn't have gone out of his way to save you from Homelander. He even sent me to spy on you when you were at work once. It was kinda—"

"Huh?" You interrupt him and your reaction had him hold his tongue.

"Spy on me? When was that?" He stares at you, batting his lashes at you blankly a few times.

"Uh I thought Butcher told you... I was the customer who asked to go to the restroom. Remember? The one with the jacket on?" He said but you were having a hard time recalling the exact memory. Your mind still a bit fuzzy from everything that happened before the kidnapping.

"I don't know... but I can't believe he would do that. Spying on me?" You said and once again the anger that was slowly dying down was now going back up.

"He was worried about you"

"If he was worried about me then he would talk to me face to face, not send one of his friends while he hid away like a coward"

"Maybe he was trying to find the right time?" You suddenly turn your head to look at him.

"Why are you making so much excuses for him??" You called him out since you figured from some of the things he told you, he probably hated him just as much as you did.

"I don't know... maybe it was that night when you guys hugged that... kinda changed my mind about him a bit... it's hard to explain but a different side of him showed. After you went to sleep, he stayed up the entire night in the office figuring out how to help you. I did try to get him to sleep but he just started cursing at me to fuck off" He said, recalling the night.

Just thinking of your brother going through computers and documents trying to find the reason behind your manifestation of powers made your heart melt a bit. You can only imagine the hours of sleep he missed, not that he even gets enough sleep but all that hours he could be using to rest and instead using it to solve your issue was nice yet sad to know. Too bad it lead him to doing business with some shady person you don't even know about. All because he wanted to help you.

"So I'm pretty sure that yeah, he does cares about you..." You stare at him, somehow amused at his way of talking things out with you.

"You really went all out trying to prove a point huh?" You said to which he laughed.

"Force of habit maybe? Anyways, I better go, Frenchie needs his tools and you look like you need some rest" He got up and began heading towards the door again but before leaving, he stops to look at you.

"Hopefully you guys work it out. He's been through a lot and I think having his family close by might keep him... human" He added. You take his words into consideration as he finally goes.

....

"Why'd you let that happen to me?" She yelled through her tears, grabbing at your shoulders as if she needed support from her limping body.

......

"You dragged me into this mess!!" Her nails were so sharp you felt like it was digging through your skin.

.............

"You killed me!! You were my friend!! You fucking bitch!!!" You couldn't breath. You felt like you were floating in an endless void.

...................

"Rot with me" She uttered. You scream as thousands of hands began grabbing at every corner of your body. The countless amount of nails on your skin sent shivers down your body. You try to scream for help but its as though your voice was stuck in your throat as no sound comes out.

........................

"NO!! STOP!!" You shout as you awake on your bed. Your screams were loud enough that it caused the door to swing open.

Your brother quickly sat himself on the bed, being careful to wrap you in the blanket before holding you close in his arms. Though your mind was too focused on the nightmare to even know who it was that was holding you. Her whisper like voice, her skeleton face, and fuck... the feeling of the thousand of nails poking your skin haunted you even more. It was so real.

"Sis... hey...! You're safe. You're here with me. No one's goin' to hurt you" He said, his voice being the thing to bring you back to the present. Your breathing somehow steadies after scanning the room to double take.

You really are safe.

"Shit.. sorry..." You could only say as your brother rubs his hand behind your back. The sight of your pale face grew concern.

"You wanna talk about what's got you screamin' in your sleep?" He asks and you let out a half embarrassed sigh. Hopefully you weren't that loud.

"I don't think I'm ready for that..." You said since what you wanted to do now was forget it.

"Aight..." He nods and continues on rubbing your back to provide some comfort. He's not big with words so this is the most he can do...

The room remained silent while you enjoyed the peace you got from his presence. When you felt yourself finally able to think rationally, you can't help but think of what Hughie told you. Working things out... To be clear, talking about your feelings with your family, let alone your sibling ain't easy as it seemed. But seeing the things you and him have gone through, that seems like the best option right now.

"Can I ask you something?" You look up at him and he looks down at you, you could tell he was worried about what you might say, yet he nods.

"Go ahead"

"... what happened after I left... like how did it lead to this? To... how you are now...?" You asked and it caused him to look away with a defeated grunt. As though he saw the question coming from a mile away.

"Theres not much to say... I fought... and I did what I had to do to survive... I wish I could tell you I was a good person for it but... I'd be lying, you wouldn't look at me now if I told you half the things I've done" He answers with his hand placed on your arm. You frown.

"It feels as though you're treating me that way already. You're my brother but sometimes you treat me like I'm just a package to you. That's what your job is about right? Whatever this job is..."

"That's not true sis..."

"Then why does your face tell another story?" You said and your words made him furrowed his brows even more. He stares at you, as if he's considering something in his mind.

"... you won't understand it"

"What don't I understand? We're family right? Blood is thicker than water. That sort of bullshit. We've been through hell together as kids. Having to take abuse from our shitty parents... then losing Lenny..." The mention of his deceased brother pained him even more that he was struggling to maintain eye contact at this point.

"Don't push me away... not again..." You pleaded while placing your other hand on top of his arm. He stayed quiet... almost too long that you were beginning to think he was gonna choose the quiet route out of the conversation until he finally opened his mouth to speak.

"How do I even start... I was furious when I found out Homelander got you involved in our fued.. but then through that rage, I also thought... what if I never went on pissing off a bunch of supes for my selfish reasons? It could have prevented how it led to this. To how he found you" Butcher began to say and you could just hear the guilt in his voice as he began confessing to you about his feelings.

"I regret some choices and some not so much... sometimes I wonder if I should've listen to you and visited that therapist you suggested. I still have the card in my wallet... but I also thought the road was too blurry to head back. I've already got too much blood on my hands, enough to fill a whole sea..." He pauses, then letting out a shaky breath.

"But if I'm being honest with you, my biggest regret would be puttin' you in any danger. Now I can't even look at you without being reminded of my mistakes... that's why it was better that you hated me instead, because it's not fair for you to forgive me after all that"

All his talking about himself was painful to even hear. Let alone the sad and defeated expression on his face. This was the most vulnerable he has ever shown himself to you. The big brother you always thought to be this indestructible force was now bawling out his emotions to you. Oddly enough, you felt glad to see him open himself up to you. This was a new start... when he became quiet, you decided to speak.

"I get why you'd think that but... didn't you tell me it was useless to dwell on things you know is irreversible? Yeah sure, I did have bad stuffs happen to me but you also helped me out of it"

"Bad things which you wouldn't be in if it weren't for me" He was quick to add when you paused but you were fast to respond.

"I know I know but... my point is... some good came out of it... and we can't change the past so we might as well control what comes next. You know... shape our destiny..." You said, feeling awkward as he stares at you a bit too hard but suddenly out of nowhere he snorts into laughter.

"What! Why are you laughing about?" You were confused at his reaction because you weren't sure if he was genuinely humoured or losing his sanity.

"I didn't know you were into that cheesy Shakespeare shit. Where'd you read that one from? The library?" He wheezes and you roll your eyes from his teasing. He can never take you seriously.

"Did you even hear what I said?" You said and from his body shifting a bit was when you realise your feet has been pressed against his leg the entire time you've both spoken. The heavy weight of the blanket must have made it harder to feel.

Even though your skin is touching his, he doesn't seem to be rotting or anything. Rather, he's still laughing at your talk just now. When he finally stops is when you point out your discovery to him. By the time he sees it, he's fast to pull his leg from contact of your skin as to not play with his luck.

"Well shit... what do you make of that?" Butcher looks at you after pretty much leaping up to his feet.

"Then it means that my powers could be controlled?? How is the question..." You said but Butcher seemed to have lose interest on that as another thing is already on his mind.

"So you don't blame me... after everything?" He asked and you look at him, your body frozen with your hand was in the process of lifting up your feet just now to get a close inspection.

"No... but if you keep pissing me off with your attitude I might start hating you" You said after finally leaving your feet alone. He chuckles lowly.

"You're not the brightest person I know" He said but there was a smile on his face. A happy one to be precise.

"That's because I'm related to you, fucker" You joked back.

Eventually after you two seemed to resolve the tension between you both, you manage to go back to sleep with Butcher willing to watch over you by sitting beside you on the bed, but it didn't take long for him to fall asleep, which trying to be as discreet as possible, you were able to catch a peek of. Since you didn't want him to freeze, you place the extra blanket onto him. After all, maybe he's not that much of an asshole.

TAGS

@demodemo909 @naniky @1infp1

[thesilmarillionblog]

𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u

Part:𝟷𝟼

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: +18! (MINORS DNI), angst, hurt, language, mention of sexual assault (the deep, homelander)

Word Count: 5002

A/N: English is not my first language.

* This story is inspired by the song "Losing You" by Dream Evil.

You did your best to ignore Ben throughout the past week, despite the fact that you have not spoken much. Despite your immediate interruption, Ben was eager to continue his conversation with you. Furthermore, with all of the Vought business, things were becoming crazy. Not much had changed with Mindstorm, even though you and Ben continued to appear on TV every night on the news.

Ben was difficult to deal with and had a difficult personality in general. Now he was willing to get a little intimate, and he wasn't pushing you away this time, which left you confused and angry. In the past, you always pushed hard to be with him in every minute and every second, as if you were obsessed with him, even though he was occasionally distant from you when he didn't like being with you. If he had stayed as the same jerk from decades before, it would be simpler.

Actually, you were upset with yourself for allowing yourself to be affected by him. It was quite simple for him to show you compassion and behave as though he genuinely cared about you. It's highly likely that you were the most naive or stupid person to fall for him. You had admitted to him that you no longer loved him, and you weren't even ready to be honest with yourself about it. But at least you knew this: you shouldn't forget the damage that he had done to your heart since it was far more severe and strong than anything he had ever made you feel.

“Hey, it looks like you're deep in thought. Are you alright?” As you two watched a movie together, Annie asked. 

Ben, Hughie, and Butcher had gone shopping before coming back. Ben asked you to go out with them since you haven't left the house for a very long time, but even though you really wanted to go out, you refused to spend time with them, with him in fact. As much as you could hear, Frenchie and Kimiko were in their rooms playing video games.

“I wasn't,” you held your head in a mumble. “Maybe I'm just tired.”

“It seems like you're missing going out,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “You know, things may be a little rough around these places, but you wouldn't be noticed. You can take in some fresh air.”

You gave her a meek grin and lied, saying, “I'm not in the mood.” You were actually itching to leave the house and breathe some fresh oxygen. It was as though you were choosing to be in a cage. “It's better to stay here until things get a bit better at least.”

“I actually don't know if it will though, but let's hope.”

Annie went on, “By the way, I'm sorry for my attitude toward you, weeks earlier. I suppose I was a little impolite, rude, and judgmental of you.”

Her abrupt admission and apology surprised you, but it also made you feel a little better. You whispered, “It's okay; I would be meaner if I were in your shoes. I am aware that trusting someone is difficult.”

“Yeah, but I feel bad about it,” she added, looking shy and placing her hands on her legs. “I should not have treated you the same way since I know how comfortable the firm is with lying to the public about you for the sake of themselves. The things I went through while I was a member of the Seven were similarly horrible. It wasn't right to judge you right away, not when I know the dynamics between the public and the firm and how it feels.” 

Her genuineness toward you made your heart melt. “It's actually not that bad. Don't let it bother you. I'm simply relieved that you don't feel the same way about me anymore.” You asked her gently, wanting to build a connection, “What have they done to you?”

She inhaled deeply, looked around the room as if she were searching for words, and then blurted out, “I am..sexually assaulted.” 

You whispered, “Oh, god,” and supportively touched her hand. “Can I ask... who?”

“I'm not sure if you've seen him on television. The Deep,” she muttered scornfully. “And Homelander is no different than him.”

“Yes, I did see him on television. Fucking bitch fish,” you mumbled. “You mean Homelander is the same as him. Is he also..?”

“Don't tell Butcher that I told you; don't actually mention it ever, but his wife was raped by Homelander.”

Your mouth dropped open in disbelief, and you were silent for a long moment.

“That is.. horrible. I have absolutely no idea what to say.” At last, you murmured, “I can't believe Vought is full of disgusting vile men,” remembering Butcher's expression when you had questioned him about Homelander. He was quite right and had his own reason.

“Yes,” Annie said in a sour tone. “No matter how many decades have passed, Vought is still the same asshole, whether you're a Supe woman or not. In actuality, they have gotten worse.”

“Leaving them behind was the right decision, and having Hughie with you is a gift.” You mentioned their relationship in an attempt to lighten the mood. “He seems like a very gentle and kind guy,” you remarked. “It's a good thing he's not supe. He has to understand who is in charge.”

Annie blushed and laughed when you brought up her lover. “Yeah, he's unlike anyone else. He's one of the key reasons I am here. I'm happy we got to meet.”

“By the way,” she muttered in a lighthearted manner. “What about Soldier Boy and you? It's obvious there is something between you two, even if I know you're going to deny it. Do you have a friends with benefits thing?” 

Confused, you asked, “What is it?”

“Well, it's just a term for people you know who have sex but continue to be friends. You don't grow any feelings or attachments for each other. It's all about sex.”

After considering the phrase she used a moment to reflect, you finally responded, “No, no, actually we are not something like that.” Leaning back in the coach, you whispered, “It's a bit complicated, actually,” as you recalled every memory you had of him. Your cheeks heated and your heart raced as you recalled the last conversation you had with him, the time you orgasmed on top of him. 

Annie may have noticed the shift in the body and smiled slyly, “It's probably not that difficult. But I had assumed that he was with the Crimson Countess. They must have been fan favorites or something.”

Annie's mention of Crimson made you uneasy. Because Ben had chosen her over you, knowing she was gone didn't provide you any comfort. You felt awful, thinking back on those dreadful times and how badly Ben had broken your heart. It was difficult to embrace such memories. 

You murmured, “We were a thing,” and acknowledged it. “Before Countess joined Payback.”

She just exclaimed, “Oh,” in an astonished tone, after realizing what you meant. “He's a vile asshole.”

“Yeah,” was all you said. “So, we are no longer a thing. Until that situation gets solved, I'm just going to hide like this, like a submissive rat. I don't want to deal with anything, but I'm not sure what to do after. Though I sincerely hope you succeed in eliminating the Seven—especially those bastards—I no longer want to be a part of it. I hope you can understand my reasons.”

“Obviously, you don't have to participate in anything or do anything, but your strength and assistance would be really helpful. It will be simple to make amends after Homelander dies, and you'll be free. I only hope Soldier Boy can kill him off. If not, we're not even sure what to do.”

“He made a deal with Butcher and promised him to kill Homelander.” You were aware of Ben's strength, and you could not see any other Supe being able to damage or beat him. “Once he made up his mind for something, Ben never stops until he gets it done.” 

Annie responded, "That's a relief," and she smiled a little. "Hey, let's not miss the movie," she murmured, gazing at the TV.

You nodded and offered her a feeble smile. You quickly grabbed your phone off the pillow when you noticed a notification, glancing at Annie as she got back to eating popcorn and watching TV.

Naturally, it was Ben who sent the message.

“?Do you need something????”

How considerate.

After giving Annie one more look, you leaned back on the coach to take up a more comfortable position.

You typed, “No.” after giving it some thought and then waited for another notification.

He was typing, typing, typing and typing.. It was taking taking him to write something for so long you got frustrated at some point. Then you finally got another notification.

“?Sure?????”

Asshole. Instead of punching your phone, you took a long breath. Although you were itching to argue with him over the phone, you tried to divert your attention to the movie Annie was watching.

You received another notification almost five minutes later. Ben had sent a blinking eye emoji. It seemed as though he was aware of how angry you were at the moment. You let out an irate sigh, grabbed your phone, and informed Annie that you would be in your room.

With a sense of relief that your period had finally ended, you took a shower. Ben knocked on your door, which was already open, and you made a tiny sound to let him in just as you were getting out of the shower, wrapped in a short towel. 

“Hey,” he remarked in a low voice, clearing his throat and quickly shutting the door to ensure that no one would see you half naked and wet. Ben went straight to your room after learning that Annie and Hughie would be staying tonight. It surprised you that he didn't argue with them about his bedroom. “Why is your door open all the time? Someone might have saw you; you're almost naked.”

As you kept using the towel to dry your hair, you rolled your eyes at him. “If someone was watching me, I'd known it, Ben.”

“And,” you said as you raised an eyebrow. “Someone is already watching.”

Ben inhaled deeply as he searched for a way to express how you had managed to rile him up. Okay,.

“It's not the same,” he asserted in a quiet yet assured tone as he observed you discarding the towel you used to dry your hair on the bed and opening the wardrobe to find something to wear. “And why didn't you text me back?”

You muttered, “Tell me how it's different.” and glanced at him as he approached cautiously, his fingertips resting on the furniture. “And well, because I was busy.”

“You already know why,” he remarked, licking his lips as he kept examining your body. Refusing to remember your orgasm on top of him while you were just getting your period was making him hard. Considering that you had never had a period while being together for a considerable amount of time, he questioned why you would now be getting one after all this time. 

You merely replied, “No, I don't know,” hoping to provoke him just a little bit. 

He continued shamelessly, “We fucked and still get off together; that's why, baby,” and you blushed. “Though we are not very active compared to the past, which is upsetting of course.” 

You opened your lips to deny and dispute with him, but you stopped yourself after taking a deep breath. You knew he would try hard to make your cheeks blush even more. 

You found a t-shirt and some underwear, which you put on the bed while you shut the wardrobe. At last, you were able to remember Annie's comments and say, “We were friends with benefits.” 

If you were the same person today, you would actually detest the idea, but since you are more grounded in reality, you can accept the circumstances as they are. In contrast to you, he had never developed feelings for you, which proved Annie. 

“What the hell is that?” Ben asked in an angry tone. He thought your statement sounded terrible and didn't like it at all. Ben sat on your bed as you hurriedly put on your t-shirt and underwear. Ben's hard look on your bare back was palpable. 

“It means engaging in sexual activity without developing an emotional bond. You maintain your friendship while having sex nevertheless.” You essentially gave him an explanation of it as though you'd known about it for a long time. “Getting off together is included.” 

Ben winced as you described the most idiotic and stupid type of relationship as though it were the most ordinary thing imaginable. “Who taught you such stupid stuff?” He asked furiously, unable to help but feel irritated that you weren't bothered by it. 

“Annie told me about it.”

Ben groaned as he removed his shoes and lay down on your bed. “It's not shocking that an ignorant woman is bombarding your thoughts with modern nonsense. I should have known only she could say such a stupid fucking thing. That must be her relationship with Hughie. Fuck, it's not shocking that he can't open his mouth while he is with her. What a fucking weak pussy.”

“Oh, god, don't talk about them in this way. Ben, they have a connection, a real one, a healthy one,” you murmured as he spoke in the most irritating tone imaginable. It was annoying that he didn't even take into account the nature of your previous relationship. “For the record, he is not concealing his relationship with Annie and vice versa. She really did walk out of the Seven. The company most likely had no approval of their relationship.”

“Touché,” he replied, observing your face fall as you sat on the bed and cast a dejected glance in his direction. He continued, “But our relationship was... health too,” when you turned away from him and lay down in bed.

You mumbled, “Sure,” and settled up in bed as comfortably as possible. Ben's huge and strong body was covering the majority of already limited space. It took a lot of work to stay away from him. 

Ben sighed as he watched your back longingly and heard your slow, deep breathing, as if you were holding back all you wanted to say. He was prepared to start over, make adjustments, and put things right even though he knew he deserved your attitude and that it would be preferable to push them beneath the debris, but he wanted you back so badly.

Ben finally murmured, “I care about you,” struggling to find the right words. “Very much.”

Ben tried to tell you how he felt, but it was difficult because you were constantly pushing him away. 

You quickly turned to face him since you didn't want to look at the walls any longer. “Did you care about me when you fucked Countess?” 

“Oh god, I didn't even fuck her,” he exclaimed harshly as soon as you brought up the redhead wily bitch. Because Stan Edgar was causing so much trouble, he should have killed him. 

When he revealed that he hadn't fucked Crimson before, you gasped. You just kept staring at him in bewilderment and surprise, as though you were about to dispute with him. You managed to whisper, “Liar,” not sure if he was telling you the truth or not. 

With an upset voice, he added, “Fuck, I'm not lying,” and he placed his right hand under his head. “I was told to have a relationship with her for the media by Stan fucking Edgar. Son of a bitch.” 

Ben was telling you the truth, and you could tell by the look in his eyes. You had no idea what to say at all because he was acting so very serious right now. You always assumed they were going all the way since they were always kissing when they were together and posing for pictures with the media. 

“Why didn't you tell me this before?” you asked, glancing out the window behind you as Ben hesitated. 

“I know, it's still unfair,” Ben said, attempting, though he was never very successful, to express himself. “I wasn't fair to you. You remain the last woman I have touched, even after all this time. I'm not sure if that means anything now. That's all I need you to know.”

You mumbled, “It's still cheating, Ben.” After his admission regarding Crimson, words were difficult to come by. You didn't want to admit it, but it did feel a bit better knowing he didn't touch Crimson Countess.

Ben opened his mouth to deny it, but then he sighed as he saw your look, which was a mix of disappointment and sorrow. There was no turning back to undo the damage he had done. What was done was done. He only hoped he could figure out a way to get your love back the way it used to be—with all of your devotion, passion, honesty, and loyalty. 

You asked gently, almost in a desperate tone that would make you loathe yourself, “Why did you leave me?”

As he saw how vulnerable you were, Ben softened his gaze and shifted positions in the bed, hesitantly moving closer to your face. Thankfully, you didn't even flinch, instead looking at him expectantly, as if you were ready to forgive him and let everything go. But he was aware that you were not yet prepared for that. You needed time, and he could give you everything you needed.

Ben found it difficult to speak as his fingers gently traced your hand. When he finally confessed, “Stan Edgar knew our relationship,” he was unwilling to tell you how much he was mistaken about you and how manipulating he was about you at the time.

You asked gently, “Did he want you to be with Crimson?” as if you understood him. 

It wasn't necessary for you to know how Stan Edgar found out about you. It would be shocking if Stan was unaware of you and Ben during the final months of your relationship because you two were acting quite recklessly. 

“Yeah,” he responded simply, meeting your eyes with his darkened ones. He seemed ready to act as he continued to study your wet lips and hair. 

His face continued to inch closer to yours as his one hand traced around yours, but you remained motionless. He was cautiously gauging your response every second. 

You mumbled, “Yet,” unable to stop your heart from racing when he was that close. “I don't want to love you ever again.”

With a groan, his soft lips found yours before you could even finish your sentence, and you were left wondering who started the kiss first.

When he eventually realized you had kissed him back, even if it seemed like your kisses were doubtful and ghostly, his hard and tight hands on yours loosened. His tongue slipped into your mouth as he noticed you were willing to go one step further, intensifying the kisses.

When your hands came to rest on his thick beard, it was unclear who was moaning more loudly in the other's mouth. The way he kissed you was different from the other kisses you shared; it was more intimate, but there was still this passion. Perhaps it was because it had been too long.

This time, Ben's hands weren't as strong or harsh; instead, they were surprisingly patient, understanding, and caring.

Your hands stopped behind his thick neck and slid to his powerful and warm chest, and he slowly pushed you against the pillow and went on top of you, making sure everything was done correctly and that you were completely alright with it.

For a brief time, you withdrew yourself to catch your breath while your hands lingered around his clothed chest, perhaps in anticipation of his response. As you both gasped deeply, his swollen lips waited on yours. You both gave a loud groan as soon as he pressed his hardness between your legs. Your legs involuntarily spread a little to give him space to move, and your heart began to race.

His lips were waiting on yours as his hands were fisted in the blankets, but he wasn't kissing you as if he were savoring this private time. He remained motionless and patient as you lifted your hips in an attempt to create friction.

He pulled his hips back, and before you could complain, he smacked his clothed hardness between your legs, causing you to gasp and grab onto his back with your fingers, holding onto his t-shirt. He went above you, but he didn't keep kissing you; instead, you were only touching lips and quietly moaning at one another's mouths. 

With a grumble, he pulled back his hips and gave your covered pussy another firm stroke. “Do you like this?” he asked as he repeated the movement.

Rather than responding verbally, you nodded in agreement and waited for him to continue. 

Ben stopped moving, gave you the command, “Tell me,” and waited on top of you.

You elevated your hips to create the same friction once more and muttered, “Yes,” weakly.

Your body needed to relax even though you weren't sure if you were ready for sex. Ben and his supe hearings have recently made your fingers unfamiliar with your pussy.

With one hand slipping under your t-shirt and his eyes fixed intently on you, he repeated, “Do you need me to make you come?”

Ben's hands carefully lifted your t-shirt. When your tits were exposed to his sight, he ran his fingers over one of your nipples, which made you gasp. 

He observed you intently, picking up on every facial emotion you made as he caressed your nipple. 

With a rough voice, he said, “You like it when I play with your tits, don't you?” Taking pleasure in watching you try to get some friction from his hardness by desperately lifting your hips to meet his. He was aware of your precise needs. “If you tell me to suck your nipple, I will.”

You gave him a quiet sigh into his mouth and pleaded with him with your eyes. He was enjoying seeing you like this, at his mercy. He knew exactly what you wanted. Even though Ben didn't do anything at all, you felt so close, even if it was difficult to force yourself to come. Being that near to him and tense while he was merely fiddling with your tits was embarrassingly good. 

“Tell me, baby.” You gasped in delight as he said, “I'll do anything you want,” and put his thumb to your hardened nipple. 

Please,” you eventually pleaded, desperately staring into his eyes. 

Ben sighed, grinned a little, lowered his head to rest on your body, kissed your breast, and started to suck so hard your entire body shook with ecstasy. Your hips lifted in anticipation as your fingers closed on his hair, forcing his head against your tits even more.

The sounds of wetness flooding the room as Ben was moaning around your nipple was filthy. As he played with your nipple with his tongue and licked it, his other hand gave you a hard squeeze, and you felt your walls tighten.

“Oh, Ben,” you let out a loud cry. He groaned loudly in delight as you pulled his messy hair. Your face reddened, and your heart began to rush rapidly.

This time you groaned in protest when he withdrew. You gasped sharply, leaving you on edge with burning cheeks as you glanced at Ben. Your fingers trembled in his hair.

Ben smiled at you because he could see you were desperate for him to continue, and he could also smell your swollen, aroused pussy leaking under your underwear.

With a quick sigh, he exclaimed, “Let me go down on you,” causing your eyes to widen. “I fucking need you to cum in my mouth so bad right now.”

His suggestion made you feel so shy that you released your grip on his hair and put your hands on his chest. 

You said, “But we... didn't do such thing before,” unsure of if he was really willing or not.

As he adjusted your t-shirt as he added, “I know, I know, that's my fault,” and then his fingers stopped on your underwear. “That's something I need to fix immediately.”

He kissed you firmly on the lips after noticing your hesitant and bashful expression and waited for you to answer. “Let me make you come.” 

You nodded briefly to him after a while and anxiously awaited his next move. You were a little anxious since you didn't know if he would really want it or would back out in the middle because he hadn't gone down on you before. 

Between kisses, Ben leaned down on your body and murmured, “Look at me,” causing you to gasp in shock as he planted a wet kiss on your covered pussy. You couldn't decide if his touch was making you too sensitive or too responsive. It felt like there was a lot of leaking beneath your underwear. 

He placed your legs on his shoulder and pulled your panties aside, revealing your wet pussy to his eyes and making you flinch for a moment while you continued to stare at him with flushed cheeks.

Excitedly, you put your hands on the sheets and waited for him to continue.

Before you could react, his warm lips reached your pussy lips. You gasped and tried to move your hips, but he stilled your body as he proceeded to kiss your clit. “Fuck, I missed your beautiful little wet cunt so much,” he muttered.

Ben's balls were hurting and his thick cock was twitching beneath his boxers, but he did his best not to remove it and stroke himself while he used his lips to fuck your swollen pussy. Now, your needs took priority.

Ben began to suck your pussy with a full tongue as you squeezed your lips together and clenched your hands into fists. You tried to shift your legs away from his shoulders, but he stopped you right away and sucked harder.

You let out a loud gasp as your hands found his hair and pulled his head closer, pressing it even closer to your pussy, just as Ben suddenly pressed his tongue into your hole. For an instant, you sensed his lips curled around your pussy, and he proceeded to fuck you with his tongue. Your voice was shaky as you began to murmur his name, your back arched.

Your legs trembled on his shoulders as he waited for your cum to fill his lips, pressing his tongue even farther into your hole. You began to cum into his mouth with a loud moan, unable to hold back yourself any longer. You were under so much pressure in that instant that you were about to cry for two reasons: excitement and embarrassment at not being able to contain yourself for even two minutes. You were unsure of the previous time your climax had struck so strongly.

You tried to push his head away from your body and adjust yourself, but he held you firmly and let you ride your orgasm into his mouth to the very end. “I'm sorry,” you muttered in a panicked and embarrassed manner. 

He planted a hard kiss on your clit, cleaned you off with his mouth, and adjusted your underwear when your orgasm subsided and felt too sensitive. 

“You taste so fucking sweet, I should have done this sooner,” he remarked, kissing your forehead for a long time after licking his lips. Though Ben's cock was hurting under his sweatpants and he was extremely hard, he knew that his desires could wait and that this wasn't the exact moment. 

While Ben's hands waited on the both side of your belly softly, you made a move to get rid of him, but he gently stopped you, saying playfully, “Hey, wait wait, what about a pillow talk?”

“I need to clean myself,” you murmured weakly, still feeling shy for letting yourself go in his mouth without a warning and too soon.

“I've already cleaned you up good, baby. You don't have to be worried about that.” He waited on top of you, with a smile on his face. Both of your hearts were still racing.

“Sorry,” you muttered shyly. “I didn't- couldn't warn you.”

“Come on,” Ben exclaimed, grinning broadly and sincerely. “I already tried to make you cum in my mouth. You did incredibly well. That's something I can do every night.”

He moved both of your bodies in the bed when you stopped moving beneath him. Without a word, you turned your back on him before he could embrace you. 

Ben moved to get close to you and held you in his powerful arms despite the bed's small size. You weren't strong enough to be hurt again, but your heart melted when his hands paused on your stomach and he hissed again behind your head. 

Knowing that his compassion was always accompanied by cruelty, you answered, "That doesn't make a difference, Ben. I still don't want to love you." 

Rather than responding to you straight away, he took a big breath, gripped your body tightly, and said, "I know."

Next Chapter

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A/N: I hope we are good so far.. Comments and reblogs are very appreciated. They keep me going. ^.^

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[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Lashing Out And Regretting It

Requested: heyya! love how you write the boys characters you got them so well just like how they are on the show. if its okay and if its a good idea, may i request an imagine with the boys and homelander and their reaction after they and reader got into an argument, getting to the point where they told reader some hurtful things and told reader to leave because they dont need reader or reader is nothing to them/is useless. they just say this because they’re angry but reader takes their word to heart and did just as they said. now they cant find reader or finding it hard to locate reader. could be platonic or familial. thank you! - anon

A/N: Screaming I love this!!! I live for the angst!!! I'm so sorry I've been so slow with requests my loves! I hope you can understand! Feedback is always appreciated! 💜💜💜

Requests are open! 🔮

Butcher embarrassed you in front of everyone. Yelling and screaming, calling you useless, all because Samer got away. You were a little too occupied with Kimiko and Frenchie to realize, opting to save your friend than chase after him. Both Kimiko and Frenchie were eager to come to your aid, but he shut them down. He got in your face and he humiliated you, said the team was better off without you. You left without a word, ignoring your friends who begged you to stay. You left your phone behind, knowing they'd call and text, apologizing for him. You were good at your job, the best even. You and Butcher have worked together a long time. This was your first mistake in a long time and he couldn't let it go. You were done. You packed a bag and disappeared. When they realized they couldn't reach you, they split up, looking at your apartment and usual hang outs. No one had seen you. Suddenly Butcher can feel his heart in his stomach. Regret spread through his chest. Everyone was pissed at him, but no one was angrier at him. He never should have done what he did. Now you were gone. Who knows when you'd show up again?

Hughie regrets it immediately. He said what he said because he was angry, and stupid, and awful. You left the night of the Tek Knight party. You were a Supe, a powerful one, but for whatever reasons, your abilities weren't what they used to be. You argued with him, saying he shouldn't go in alone. It came out before he realized, before he could take it back. Right now, he was more powerful than you were. What right did you have telling him what to do when you couldn't do your single job? The look on your face, the horror and hurt, it made him sick to his stomach. He tried to apologize, to explain, but you were done. You threw your hands up, wishing Hughie and the rest a safe mission, but you were done. M.M. assured him it was better to go through with it than run after you, so he did, but the whole time he's thinking about you. He doesn't find you at the office or apartment. You disappeared. They tried to track you, find you, but they hit wall after wall. You'd show up again, they all told him, you just needed time. He'd never felt so guilty in his life.

Annie didn't think you were trying hard enough. It didn't seem like you cared anymore. Not about the team, or taking down Homelander. You seemed like you were just going through the motions. She meant to just talk with you, but things escalated pretty quickly. As soon as she said the words, she knew she was in the wrong. You were becoming a liability to everyone involved. If you were done, burned out, then just say that. Leave. But if you wanted to be a part of this team, if you really cared, you'd stop being so useless. Truth was, you were tired. You were tired of everything. There was no name calling or fighting back. You didn't have it in you. You got up and you walked out, pushing past Butcher and the rest who were just walking in. Annie goes to follow you, but you just pick up your pace. She calls and texts, but you never answer. Everyone says to give you your space, but she can't let it go. She shows up at your place which is completely empty. It fills her with so much shame. She apologizes profusely, asking you to come back, but she never gets a response.

M.M. is reactive and angry and he knows what he's done is wrong immediately after. He's been in charge of this team and so far all you've been is negative. You've lost your faith in the team. He understands, he gets it, but for the sake of everyone involved, he needs you to look on the bright side. If there isn't one, he needs you to make one. He ends up blowing up at you while you're waiting for Hughie as Webweaver. You tell him, Annie, and Kimiko that you have a bad feeling about this, a terrible feeling, but it was too late to do anything. Hughie was already inside. He knows now is not the time nor place, but he loses it. If you can't have faith in the mission, in your teammates, then you shouldn't be here at all. Your attitude problems only hurt morality and it was worse than useless, it was dangerous. Annie and Kimiko try to de-escalate the situation, but you've made up your mind: you're done. You leave without a second thought, wishing them a safe mission. Because they're all occupied, no one can really do anything about it. After his panic attack, Marvin sees just how right you were, but when he calls it goes right to voicemail. When it seems like you disappeared, he does everything he can to track you down. You don't want to be found, though.

Frenchie fights with you after Samer gets away. It was the three of you that were in charge of him and you let him get away. You didn't have any fight left in you. It was your fault. He must've been working on the cuffs for weeks. You trusted him and you let Kimiko get hurt. You know that's the reason he's so upset: because he had to cut off her leg to save her. She could have died. You know what she means to him. And yet, he goes a little overboard. Everyone thinks so, yelling at him to stop when he's gone too far. You were useless. You let Samer get away, you let Kimiko get hurt, you failed at every single job you were given. He can see the look of hurt on your face and finally stops, the room left in a heavy silence. You grab your coat and you leave. There was no use in fighting with him, he was right. Annie and Hughie called after you, pleading with you to stay, but you waved them off, storming out. When they don't hear from you, they all start to worry. You sent a single text to Frenchie before turning off your phone. Tell Kimiko I'm sorry. Feeling guilty, he goes to your place. You're not there though, and neither are your immediate belongings: wallet, keys, phone, some clothes. He has to do something to fix this, to make things okay.

Kimiko is really hurt you turned yourself in alongside Frenchie. The guilt was eating you alive, all the things you've ever done. It was horrible. It was unforgivable. When you come back alongside Butcher, who insists you and Frenchie can replicate the virus, you can't stand to look at her. She wants to talk with you, to ask you why, and eventually, when you get a little alone time, she does. Of course she would understand, your upbringings were cruel, brutal, and it lead you down this road, but you couldn't move on. You couldn't forgive yourself. Kimiko was pissed. Did you really think it was that easy? Did you really think you were the only one eaten alive by guilt and shame and self-hatred? She was signing at you furiously, as close to yelling as she could get. You were so smart, so intelligent, and yet you were wasting your talents wanting to rot away in prison! If you were going to throw your talents away and hurt the team and hurt her and become a useless nobody, then what was stopping you? Certainly not her, not any of your friends. You don't have it in you to fight back. You don't have anything left in you, not anymore. She tries to get your attention when you leave, but you don't look back. When none of them hear from you, Kimiko begs The Boys to do everything they can to find you. Please, she has to make things right.

Bonus! Homelander cuts people out of life left and right. Still, you never thought he would turn on you. And yet, when you don't know who the snitch is, when you're not closer to pinpointing the culprit, he loses it. His eyes even heat up, though he catches himself, calming himself down. Firecracker interrupts his yelling, foolishly, but in the end it saves you from hearing anymore about how pathetic, useless, stupid you are. That you don't deserve to be a part of The Seven, you don't deserve to be a Supe at all. He goes off with her, believing it was Webweaver all along. You don't know how much time you have, but you know, in order to avoid his wrath, you have to leave right away. Get some space between you so that he can cool off, if he ever does. You took it as a pretty clear way of saying that you were out, you lost his trust. You weren't a friend anymore, you weren't anything anymore. Firecracker had saved the day. Again. When he comes back, covered in blood and no closer to finding the narc than he was before, he goes looking for you. He searches the entire city, but you've disappeared completely. Vanished.