#homelander x ofc

[seeds-and-sins]

Four Letter Word - Soulmate AU Part Three

Pairing: Homelander x Reader

Rating: M (BAD WORDS, abusive themes, Homelander-esque expectations)

Description: Homelander and you are soulmates, but you can't stand the way he treats you anymore.

Part Two

Tagged: @midnightprincess18

Hiding things from Homelander was like hiding warm bodies from an infrared. He could see the lie-or just a fragment of one-from hundreds of miles away, smell it on you the moment you entered the building, hear the nervous tremble in your voice that was near undetectable to average human ears. You had become well adjusted to his capabilities. Granted, surprises or any sort of secrets were prohibited. You tried to plan a birthday party for John one time and the response was-well-needless to say, he wasn't pleased. So, you learned to keep absolutely transparent with the Homelander on everything; all of his questions were answered with the full truth, any feeling or hint of uncertainty was made known to him. It was impossible that it not be.

In almost every capacity, Homelander was the perfect lover. He knew exactly what you needed when you needed it. He could detect the faintest skip in your heart rate, the sweat beading on your brow, the scent of arousal. He was always attentive, asking about you, doting on you, complimenting you. In this regard, he never failed to please you. However, as far as never getting a second away from his unrelenting and ravenous nosy self, that was slowly starting to get to you.

The tensions started after he had admitted, on live television, before the entire planet, that you were his soulmate. Even then, when you told him everything was fine, he knew otherwise. He eventually apologized for his transgressions against you that day, but it didn't help the fact that you were now the second most mentioned person on the news. From that point forward, something was off. And it was only getting worse with each passing day.

John was keeping something from you, that was for certain, but the total transparency you offered him was never quite reciprocated. You asked him about it, but he never cared to give you a direct answer or at least an answer that was truthful.

Then, Translucent went missing, John told you.

Then next, Starlight, the newest member of the Seven, was admitting a sexual assault on national television. The Deep was suspect to dozens of other accusations that followed.

Then, A-Train was never around, and anytime you ran into him in the hallway, he was sweating profusely and struggling to catch his breath.

"I'm fine!" A-Train obviously wasn't fine.

And Black Noir never had any drama, but with the way things were going you wondered if you just hadn't found out what was wrong with him yet. Because then you found out that Maeve's alcoholism and depression had been keeping her hauled away in her penthouse suite.

Meanwhile, John, Homelander, your lover, was on the television every other day, ranting and raving about things that made your blood go cold. First, with that plane crash. Then, the news interviews gone wrong.

The icing on the cake was when a video leaked on the web and, soon, the news, depicting the possibility of super humans existing in other countries, with deadly intentions.

Maybe you worked too much. If you had been around more often, you would know about what was going on. Maybe if you had been with him more, he would have spoken to you sooner. Instead, all of the distant looks, empty kisses and promises, it built up in your very being, your soul. Until you couldn't take it any longer. You were hurt.

You stormed to the Vought meeting room, where Homelander stood at the far end of the table. The leftover, broken members of a team you once respected sat around that table: Starlight, Maeve, Noir, A-Train. You didn't care who was there. You didn't care who was listening. You needed to let everything out. From the edge of your sight, you noticed Ashley in the corner. The room was already thick with discomfort, but when you walked in, it intensified.

John's cape flicked as he turned to face you, those gorgeous blue eyes looking at you with confusion, the fragile New York skyline laid out in the scenic view behind him. You didn't think you had the courage to do it until you saw him. He spoke your name, that lackluster smile pulling his lips, he recovered his surprise, greeted you as if he hadn't been avoiding you for nearly a month.

"I'm leaving you." You said, confident, sure, no hint of any lie in that tone. John's smile fell, you saw A-Train's eyes bulge and he tensed up. The whole room knew what he was capable of. At any point in time, he could go off and destroy everything in his path. Maeve's eyes darted back and forth, between John and you, she was preparing herself for the worst.

"Okayyy, maybe we should-" Ashley's awkward attempt at finding a solution was thwarted by a stern hiss from between Homelander's clenched teeth.

"No. You're not." He shot back.

"Yes. I am." Tears brimmed the corners of your eyes, "I care about you. I love you so much..." You spent everything in you not to cry. "But you are a horrible fuckin' person, John. Horrible." Even his shock was evident at that utterance. You could hear his gloves squeak from the force of his fists clenching, all the way at the other side of the room. "I can't do it anymore." You inhaled a deep breath, glancing around the room at the stunned and horrified expressions of Homelander's teammates and then you left.

As soon as you disappeared from the room, he was hunching forward over the table. There was a harsh silence as everyone tried to figure out what would happen next. Would he rip his way through the building? Would he start killing people one by one? Would he go on a rampage in the city? The only one to have broken up with Homelander was Maeve and it appeared to be a mutual decision at the time. And Maeve wasn't his soulmate, the idea of bonded soulmates ever so much as considering a breakup was foreign to the world. They were either together, or never together, that was it. Homelander stood to his full height, he lifted his chin.

"What were we talking about?" He said through clenched teeth, the utterance was rough and husky, strained, everyone physically leaned away in their seats.

"Um-uh-um-I think-"

"Starlight." A-Train shot out, "We were talking about Starlight." Starlight blinked, quietly looking around the table for any sort of protection as Homelander's burning rage redirected itself back to the topic at hand.

After that meeting, Homelander barreled out of the room and went looking for you. He was a fuming mess. No one in the hallway dared to get in his way.

How dare you? He was nothing but good to you. How fuckin' dare you?

He was preparing his entire rant on the way to his penthouse, but when he got there it was empty. He frantically searched with his x-ray vision, then he stomped into the shared room and noticed that all of your clothes were absent from the dresser.

He wasn't freaking out.

No.

He wasn't-

Homelander flew through the windows of his penthouse, glass exploded outward from his exit. He went oil a rage through the city, searching for you. Car alarms were going off, people were staring at the sky as sonic booms bounced around from the speeds he was going. He searched around the tower, then he searched the streets near the tower. You weren't in the subways.

His chest was tight, he couldn't find you anywhere.

You were serious! You left him!

Homelander couldn't let this happen. John couldn't let this happen. He could already feel his control slipping, bit by bit. For so long, he relied on you to keep him together. You made him feel human. You reminded him that he was not just a superhero, or a celebrity... Or a god. You reminded him that he had a soul.

He swiftly flew back to the tower. At this point, everyone was on alert. He was charging through the hallways in long and hard strides. People were ducking into rooms, hiding behind planters, pushing themselves as far up against the walls as they could possibly go. He stopped at the surveillance room. Before entering, he could hear the friendly chirping and the clicking away of computer keys. As soon as he was spotted, the room of employees went drop dead silent.

Homelander didn't care who's day he ruined, he randomly picked someone.

"You. Search everywhere." He commanded lowly, gripping the head of their seat so tight that the chair might break completely. "I'm looking for my soulmate." He watched the screen as the frightened employee rushed to work. The blue glow made the tears brimming in his eyes glisten.

He was almost on that edge. He was almost gone. He didn't know what he would do without you.

"John..." A calm and reassuring voice sounded at his side. He stood tall and his head darted in their direction. It was none other than Madelyn Stillwell. "What's wrong? Talk to me." Homelander felt suffocated, he felt like he couldn't breath.

"She's gone." He choked out, sniffling to keep the snot inside his nose. "She left me." Madelyn appeared sympathetic, John wanted to convulse in disgust when she placed a hand on his shoulder. The only person he wanted to touch him was you. Perhaps Stillwell had a physical hold on him before he found out your existence, but that was long ago. Now, he had a soulmate. He had a soulmate that loved him.

"Why even bother, John?" She reasoned, sending him a sad smile. "Why would you want to be around someone that doesn't want to be around you?" Homelander stepped from her reach and she visibly frowned.

"She does want to be around me. She's just confused."

"Maybe this is for the best."

"This is ridiculous!" He shoved the employee away and began agressively typing at the keys, pulling every traffic camera, security camera, every snap photo in the subways, every credit transactions under your name. He found nothing. He didn't understand. Vought had access to some of the most deeply integrated data bases in the world and he still couldn't find her.

"John, maybe she'll come back. If she misses you as much as you miss her." Homelander fled the room, leaving behind a disoriented employee and an annoyed Stillwell.

That night, Homelander stood at the rooftop of Vought tower. It was where he had met you, it was where you both exchanged your first words. He pressed his hand over that same burning phrase that rested on his chest and he stared into the distance. Expression completely devoid of emotion, not a single tear more.

Homelander had fallen off completely.

...

This was agonizing. You thought you could take it, but it was only getting worse. You felt sick, you could barely move without being in pain. Maybe you were just going through a bout of depression. Maybe it would wear off with time. You didn't know for sure. What you did know was that you couldn't keep driving. So, after a few days on the road, sleeping intermittently in the car, you found a motel in Nevada.

You figured you needed to rest someplace that wasn't the front or back seat of a car. The motel was small. It appeared to only have about ten rooms in total. The old woman at the front desk was kind and she didn't ask questions. Every time you had stopped for gas or went through a drive-thru, someone recognized you.

"You're Homelander's Soulmate." They would state in awe, and then they would proceed to ask you every question they could think of about Homelander. What's his favorite food? Is he a good boyfriend? Do you love him? Are you guys going to get married? Are you going to have kids? And maybe that's why everything hurt so bad. The bond between soulmates went beyond the stars, connected people that were hundreds of miles apart. All that you felt away from Homelander was pain. Horrible, excruciating, blistering pain.

The moment you entered your room, you showered and changed into a comfortable pair of clothes. Then, you laid on the bed and cried. You cried for what must had been hours. This routine proceeded for the next few days. You didn't eat, you barely slept, and you just laid there. It was like death. You felt like you were dying. Your thoughts were filled with Homelander. He didn't want you. He didn't ask for a soulmate. He could have done without.

The words on your wrist, meant nothing anymore. After meeting John, you began looking at them with a fondness, your heart would swell. Now, they haunted you.

Well, you're a fuckin' idiot.

Yeah, you were.

After a week of hell, you heard several knocks at the door. You didn't know who it could possibly be. It took all of the energy you had left to get up and answer it. You looked like how you felt, a mess. You were wearing baggy sweat pants and a tank top, nothing else. You didn't even have the energy to put a bra on. Imagine your surprise when you answered the door and it wasthe old lady that owned the motel. She had a sickeningly sweet smirk on her face, that was damn near uncomfortable, and she had a tray of cookies in her hands. Your favorite cookies. How was that even possible?

"Thought I'd check in on you, deary, made you some cookies." Your eyes narrowed at her, they were already squinted from the bright light blaring in from behind her.

"Um..." This woman went from not giving two shits who you were, to checking in on you. You were suspicious.

Suspicious of what? She was an old lady. Harmless. It's not like Homelander was hiding under that wrinkly face.

"Thank you." You replied in a tired voice. Geez, was that you talking?

"May I come in?" You bit your bottom lip, anxiously glancing behind you.

"Okay." You moved out of the way enough for her to squeeze in. You were certian the room was a mess. You hadn't had the energy to pick up after yourself, but the good news was there was no food anywhere because you weren't eating. "Sorry, I just um-"

"You're going through Soulmate Seperation. It's a brutal thing. I went through it when I was your age." You squinted at her, cocked your head in confusion.

"I'm sorry..." You crossed your arms. "How did you know-I mean-"

"Like I said, my dear, I went through the same thing." She sat down on the edge of the bed, placing the tray beside her. "Come. Sit. Have a cookie." You blinked between the tray and her, then shut the door and followed her requests.

"How did you get through it?" Your words came out as a whisper as you eyed the cookie in hand, a tear slowlt trickled down your cheek.

"Well, I had to go back to them eventually. It hurt too bad. But I realized that we could work things out."

"I mean..." You sniffled, then took a giant bite. "He's perfect. But he doesn't love me."

"I'm sure he's obsessed with you." This cookie was really freaking good right now. And you were salivating for more. You hadn't eaten in days.

"He barely noticed me until I told him I was done with him."

"Remember. He's going through the same thing you are right now."

"You think?"

"Absolutely." You frowned at the thought. You didn't want him to hurt. You didn't want to only enhance the burden that this must be on him.

"Eat some more cookies, honey."

And you did.

...

One second you were eating cookies, the next second you were passed out on the bed. The old woman's body morphed into that of an overweight middle aged man. He picked up the phone and made a call.

Moments later, a team came in to collect your unconscious body and you were being taken away.

When you woke up, you were surrounded by a familiar smell, fresh pine, rain, it nearly made you cry as you gripped the sheets in closed fists.

John.

This was your bed. His bed.

Your eyes fluttered open and you were staring at a piece of paper, and written on that paper was a scribbled message.

Answer the phone.

You squinted at the red lettering, your vision blurring in and out of focus.

Then, as if on a cue, a phone began to vibrate. It was next to the note on the end table. You sat upright, glancing around at what used to be your bedroom, your home. Your face felt wet, tears were sliding down your cheeks. You shoved the covers off of you and reached for the phone. The caller ID was from an unknown number. You gulped, stared uneasily at the golden double doors leading into the bedroom. Everything was just as you had left it. It was as if you had never even left. You felt ana che in your chest at the thoughg.

Why were you even here?

How did you get here?

The vibrating phone drew your attention again. The buzzing stopped. You snatched the phone with lightening speed and stared as the missed call appeared on the screen. Not even a few seconds later the number appeared again and the phone shook in your hand like a storm in a bottle.

You looked around one more time, eyes landing on the message in red ink.

You hit the button and brought the phone to your ear.

There was a sigh on the other end, the person cleared their throat, before speaking your name.

Your eyes darted around.

"Y-Yes."

"For security's sake, I'm not going to inform you who I am, let's just say I am someone higher up on the chain."

"Vought's chain?" He didn't answer you.

"We don't have much time. Homelander is to arrive back from a press conferance in an hour. In that time, I suggest you clean yourself up. We have taken the liberty of returning your personal items to their former places-"

"Who are you?" You fumed, rising from the bed. You stormed over to the dresser and, in fact, found that the drawers were filled with your clothes. "So what, I can't make my own fuckin' decisions, now?"

"Not when those decisions pertain to Homelander."

"My choice has nothing to do with him."

"Respectfully, your choice nearly threatened all of humanity." You shook your head.

"I'm not that important to him." There was a sigh again and you wanted to scream. This man had some audacity, whoever he was.

"You believe whatever you want, but in the meantime you'll make up with Homelander and play nice. Pretty soon you'll be free of this burden..." Your heart jumped into your throat and you felt like your breath had been sucked from you completely. "And at that time, Vought will compensate you for your troubles."

"What do you mean burden?" You inhaled sharply, "Do you-Do you-Are you saying you can remove our soulmate marks? Are you saying that you can seperate soulmates?" He didn't answer you again. Grief hit you like a freight train, it was overwhelming.

"You have less than an hour. If you try to run away again, we will have to take stricter measures. Am I clear?" You didn't answer, still caught in your thoughts over the harsh reality that was just dealt to you. Remove soulmates?! No. No, no, no. You didn't want that. You never wanted that. You couldn't even imagine what...

"Don't-" The line hung up on the other end. You went frantic. You tried to dial the number back. It never rung, it went dead. "No. No. No." You dialed the number again. It never rung. It went dead. "Please." You cried, bringing the back of your hand to your forehead, you stared at the ground in disbelief.

Could they take him from you?

Isn't that what you wanted?

Didn't you want to run away from all this?

No. Not like that.

To be seperated from Homelander, for eternity. To have a piece of your soul ripped from you? You would rather than die. You rather be sucked into an abyss of nothingness before you allowed that to happen.

You put the phone down and rushed to get ready for Homelander's arrival.

...

"If she puts me on the spot like that again, Ashley, I am going to rip her fuckin' head off?!"

"Okay, okay, let's slow down. I'll talk to her okay? There's no need for that." Homelander halted in his furious step and faced Ashley, who came to an uneasy stop on her heels. He pointed a finger in her face and snarled.

"You better, or-" He paused, the anger immediately falling from his expression. His eyebrows furrowed and then he stood a little taller.

"I'm sorry. So sorry. I promise I'll fix this. I-"

"Shut up." Homelander growled lowly, his head twisted and he stared toward the closed bedroom doors. "Get the fuck out." He commanded, Ashley didn't waste time and she booked it out of the pemthouse. John straightened, his eyes glistened and he faced the bedroom doors.

His boots thumped against the marble floor, one after the other. Before he made it to the doors, you pulled the doors back and revealed yourself. He flinched away as if he had been stung, neck craning his head back, his jaw went tight. You weaved your fingers out in front of you and stood in quiet eith your head bowed. You had showered, brushed your teeth, put on perfume, pretty much anything to make yourself look far more presentable than you were.

You didn't know what to say. All you knew was that you wanted to rush into his arms as soon as you saw him. The feeling was suffocating, being so far apart for so long, seeing him and still not being able to touch him.

You wished you hadn't ever left.

"What are you doing here?" His voice was strained and he was intently keeping himself out of arms reach. He looked fine, unmarred by any feeling, aside from irritation. It was as if the pain and suffering that your seperation had caused in you, had done nothing to him. He was invincible physically, mentally, and emotionally. He was Homelander.

You lifted your gaze to his and he rolled his eyes to look away.

"I missed you." You answered in a mere whisper, swallowing down the thickness in your throat. He crossed his arms, his back turned to you for a moment before he twisted and pointed at you.

"You've got some nerve coming back here, thinking I would take you back after what you did." You wiped a few stray tears, held your chin up.

"I had my reasons for leaving."

"Oh yeah? Because I'm what? A horrible fuckin' person?! Do you remember that?!" You blinked at him, chewing on your bottom lip. "I wouldn't forget it." He crossed his arms again, body rigid and straight. He looked so composed. He was more angry than hurt. But perhaps, you hoped he was angry because he was hurt.

"John..." You began, maybe if you had just told him your feelings before none of this would have happened. You couldn't lose him. That wasn't happening. That wasn't an option. You loved him too much. "I thought that-"

"Leave." He sternly shot out, interrupting you, like he always did before, never giving you a chance to speak.

"No." You cried, unable to hold your tamed expression. He closed in on you like a lion to it's prey.

"Yes." He hissed through clenched teeth. "Besides you've already been replaced. I never needed you." You held your hand over your chest, the sharp pains that flickered there incapacitated you. His eyebrows furrowed, one gloved hand came up to the crook of your arm to steady you. His touch burned like a fire, but the excruciating pain you were feeling never subsided. You dropped to the ground, Homelander called your name, but you weren't able to answer. You whimpered, expression clenching with a sob, a fist clutched over your chest. You sniffled and shook your head.

Fuck this.

"This was why I fuckin' left." There was no physically matching the Homelander, but when you shoved his arm away he released you. You stood up and then walked back toward your bedroom.

Punishment be damned. You were going to get the fuck away from him. You couldn't play pretend that everything was okay anymore. Not after that.

The evidence was substantial. Homelander wasn't fazed at all by your absence.

"John, these past few months have been terrible." You got your bags, opened them and laid them out on the bed. "I feel like an accessory rather than a lover to you. You lie to me. You sneak behind my back. Jesus Christ, if I fuckin' did that to you, people would die." He frowned, finally listening to what you were saying. "You don't fuck me anymore. You don't kiss me. We don't watch movies together or stay up all night talking to each other anymore. And I miss you." You were going back and forth between you dresser, shoving clothes and any of your belongings into the suitcases. "I thought I could leave. I figured, 'Well, he doesn't care much about me anyways.'" You stared down at the mess of clothes and sighed. "I was right. You're a terrible fuckin' person."

You might as well just die. You couldn't keep living like this.

"I gave you everything." He snorted in disbelief, held his hands up and gestured around. "I put you on a fuckin' pedestal."

"Sure, John."

"You're crazy!" He chuckled maniacally, "You don't even know what you're talking about. You're the one who hurt me! You left me!"

"Because you wouldn't listen to me!" You spun at him, wanting nothing more than to slap him. "Accusing me at every turn, telling me that I need to watch myself before I go too far. Maybe you're the fuckin' crazy one!"

"Watch yourself!" He growled.

"Do you see?!" You crossed your arms and shook your head vigorously. "And then you replaced me?! With who?" You sobbed, then began to nervously nibble at your fingers. "We might as well not even be soulmates anymore."

Homelanders eye's were closed shut, fists clenched at his sides.

"If you're going to kill me, do it now." You plopped onto the edge of the bed. "Because I'm not sure I could even live without you." And you were staring off with a blank stare when Homelander flooded your vision. He stepped out in front of you, then crouched down to your level. You couldn't believe he would do such a thing. He grabbed your hands in his, thumbs caressing your knuckles.

"I could never." He admitted in a choked breath. It was then you noticed that his own eyes were glistening with tears. "I didn't mean to-" He cut himself off, turned his head away. You cupped his cheek and forced him to gaze up at you.

"Please tell me you're feeling this too." You pulled one of his hands up to your chest, wrapping your arms around it. "I'm hurting, John, I-I-I can't do this anymore." He rested his head on your lap, caressed the fingers of free hand along your thigh.

"I fucked up." He whispered, "I didn't replace you. I could never." Tears finally spilled out of his steely blue eyes and you whimpered at the sight. He did care. "You can't leave me." He added in the silence, "You can't do that to me ever again."

"Then, show me that you love me." You breathed, leaning your forehead into his. "Tell me things and make time for me."

"You should have just told me how you fuckin' felt." He cleared his throat, scowling as he looked away, still resentful. He just didn't get it, did he.

"You wouldn't let me." You released his hand, but it remained there. "I'm not going to do this again. I'm a human being, John. Is that so hard for you to see?" His fingers stretched up toward your chin and he caressed at the flesh there. "You're human too." You whispered, his eyebrows furrowed and he stared deeply at you in confusion. "You are." His head craned away, he licked his lips and then his expression went stern.

"Don't do it again." Was all he said. He stood to his full height, towering over you. "Don't do it again, or I will kill everyone." You heart stuttered. He was dead serious. "If you leave me again, I'll wipe this fuckin' earth clean and you're going to watch me to do it." He paused, then his eyebrows flicked up. "Do you understand?"

You nodded.

"Say it."

"Y-Yes." You replied in a stutter, a tear slid down your cheek and you swiftly wiped it away.

"Let's have dinner." He began walking toward the double doors. "To celebrate your return, we'll go wherever you want."

"Okay." When he disappeared around the corner, you allowed your heart to drop and you inhaled a deep breath of panic.

Was this worth it?

Did you even want to be his soulmate anymore?

[blindmagdalena]

Eat Your Ego, Honey ( Homelander x OC )

ongoing series. words to date: 49k. 18+ main themes: dark romance, stalking, sex work, unhealthy relationships, alcohol, codependency, trauma bonding, rough sex. see AO3 for detailed tags.

summary: Layla Alden is an escort who specializes in the marriage of sex and emotional intimacy. In an effort to protect herself in an inherently hazardous industry, she enforces a strict ‘No Supes’ policy. Homelander doesn't take no for an answer, and insists that she take him on as a client. She's quickly caught up in the maelstrom of his life, forcing them both to confront feelings of obsession, danger, love, trauma, sex, and how the entanglement of all of those things have shaped their lives.

Homelander is an enigma. One moment he is moving with sexual prowess, eager and confident in himself, and the next he is subdued, utterly entranced by nothing more than a bare-handed touch. He shows all the trappings of a man who has had plenty of sex, but very little intimacy.

AO3 Link | Spotify Playlist

Tumblr Chapter Index:

Chapter One: Company

Chapter Two: It Will Come Back

Chapter Three: Stalker's Tango

Chapter Four: One Way Or Another

Chapter Five: You're Mine

Chapter Six: Gods & Monsters

Chapter Seven: Middle of the Night

Chapter Eight: I Found Love

[whereismymindnow]

Angel of My Dreams Masterlist

Characters: Homelander x ofc!Harper

Warnings (for future potential chapters): Homelander - duh. Dub-con. Forced relationship. Supe behaviour. Murder. Lotsa blood. The usual!

Harper was a global superstar, known for her powerful voice and energetic performances. Vought decided it was time to get Homelander some more support from young females and thought she'd be perfect to help with that. What better way to get him support than to have one of the leading ladies in the music industry dedicate her next single to him? Homelander decides that a working partnership isn't in his interest, he wanted something a bit more personal… whether Harper wanted him or not.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

[inkvvvells]

lol i've been playing around with the idea for a homelander x ofc fic but it doesn't fit at all with any of the boys timelines so should i just do my own thing?

but fake dating, enemies to lovers to enemies to lovers (rinse repeat), dead dove don't eat, vought is bad, homelander is homelander, psychopath with one weakness and it's a person, murder can be fun, secret supe blah blah blah

[themeraldee]

First Time for Everything

[Masterlist]

18+ Only | 2.1k | Homelander x fem!Reader | Cunnilingus. Fingering. Overstimulation. Squirting. Literally just PWP.

Written for anon 💚

Homelander’s got you with your back flush to the bed, panting and twitching. He’s just finished a damn good job of licking and sucking your cunt through an orgasm, as always delivered without a hitch. You’re there thrashing around like a fish out of water but he’s got your hips pinned down and there’s not a chance in hell you could ever get out of his titanium hold.

With his head still buried in between your thighs he flattens his tongue over your quivering pussy, feeling every throb, pulse and twitch. Fuck, you feel good against his tongue. While most people he encounters quiver with fear, you quiver with mindless pleasure, the muscles in your thighs shaking around his head. The smell of you has him hungry for more as he laps over your weeping cunt a few more times, catching your clit at every swipe of his tongue. And you taste fucking divine. It was only appropriate for a god like him to be served the most exquisite pussy.

He moves his hand up, pressing down on your pubic area to hold you while his other, now free, hand squeezes his shaft through the soft padding of his pants. It’s not really enough, not enough at all. Especially compared to the delicious squeeze of your cunt he recently got so used to. He pulls back to watch as it uselessly squeezes around nothing, begging for his cock and his cock only. 

All in due time. If he stuffed you full now, the fresh tight, orgasm-powered squeeze of your slick walls would have him spilling in no time. You truly were lucky to have him. Nobody else could be so attuned to your needy body’s reactions. Nobody else could see your inner walls pulsate and throb, still coated in your delicious sticky sap.

Just as your orgasm eases off, you lift yourself up slowly to your elbows, then to an almost sitting position, supported by your hands. But Homelander isn’t ready to give up the control he has over your convulsing body. So instead he stops squeezing his cock and he pushes you down on your back again.

“Nope, you stay down. I’m not done with you yet.” His tone was innocently cheerful but his grin didn’t hide the depravity of his thoughts. Oh the thoughts running through his head on just how many ways he can ruin you. Just how many orgasms can he give you before you pass out? Have you ever come without getting your now poor and overstimulated clit played with? He should find out. Fucking into your cunt at every angle imaginable, from either side, front and back, upside down; he could do it all—effortlessly. And when your pussy is raw and aching? Well then he’ll have a little play around with your cute ass. Have you ever had your asshole fingered? Of course not, you were too sweet for that. 

Now that you’re his he’s gonna have to work hard to screw that sweetness out of you until he’s left with an unabashedly begging mess that he knows is hiding in you. His cock throbs at the idea. The idea of corrupting you to your filthy core is a tempting one.

He wants—no, needs—you to know that there’s never gonna be anyone that can make you feel like this.

Now that you’re on your back again without much protesting, he peels his gloves off. He thought about stretching your cunt around the soft leather of his glove but the temptation to feel your throbbing flesh around his bare digits was too strong to overcome. 

He places his left palm flat on your pubic area, pressing down a little. Looking up he meets your eyes and with another shark-like dazzling grin he asks. “Comfortable?”

You give a cutesy little nod, biting your lip. How dare you look so cute. Other vermin usually tremble in fear anytime he’s close to getting his hands on them whether it be with good intentions or not, yet there you are with his palm pressing down on you and all it does is send a thrill up your spine. The same palm that is capable of very easily crushing the bones in your pelvis is currently splayed out tapping each finger in succession against your skin.

You give your hips a wiggle just to show him how comfortable you are with barely being able to move.

“Good.” He smiles at you, his heart skipping a beat at the joy and excitement that is pouring out of you. You really fucking love him. Feeling overwhelmed by that ballooning emotion he looks down instead focusing his thoughts on your pussy. She’s eagerly waiting for him, so really it’d be rude of him to take any longer.

His pointer and middle finger slide from the top of your slit all the way down. Immediately coated in the sticky goodness your cunt can’t seem to stop producing around him. His slicked fingers go up to your clit, spread in a V shape, now catching your clit where they meet. You give him a few little squeaks each time he gives your clit another teasing bump. How you appear so apple pie sweet even when he’s got his fingers and lips soaked in your juices never ceases to amaze him.

His fingers finally make it down to your hole. It’s pulsating right in front of his fingers, opening up and just trying to slurp him in. It’s a miracle he hasn’t shoved his cock in there yet today. He licks his lips, the taste of you a reminder of good times while the tips of his fingers slide in.

He parts his lips, eyebrows furrowed as he watches your flesh eagerly slick his way through. He lets out a short cut-off gasp as he turns his fingers upside down with his palm now facing up while still inside you. And god is it fucking tight in there. He hasn’t had a chance to stretch you out yet. His cock throbs constantly now, his balls feel heavy, aching to unload inside you. Just feeling your cunt choke his fingers out makes him gasp. The memory of what it’s like to have you squeeze his hard shaft is indescribable, yet he feels it vividly around his fingers knowing you’d be pulling load after load from him. No chance he’s pulling out with a grip like that, fuck.

He’s way too close to messing up his pants with how vivid his memory feels so instead he focuses on you. He needs to ruin you as much as you ruin him. There you are happily on your back not even knowing how hard you’re making this on him. He needs you just as ruined. Just as hazy with the lust he feels anytime he smells your cunt get wet.

He pumps his fingers in and out a few times, getting the digits thoroughly soaked. He presses you down a little harder. You need to be kept in place. He crooks his fingers up, pressing against the soft spongy spot with his fingertips. 

He’s only two knuckles deep when he pumps his fingers inside you. He starts slowly. His strong fingers massage you, forcing gentle sighs out of you. Yeah, that won’t do. Going a little harder, he fucks his fingers in and out of you in a curved motion, hitting those upper walls with each stroke. His approach is loose and relaxed, giving you a little warm-up. 

“Homelander…” Like music to his ears you moan his name. Your upper body arches. Your hands squeeze the sheets, your own tits, anything. Not being able to move your hips leaves you defenseless. He speeds up. He keeps up the same rhythm, unfaltering in the motion. The squelch of you alone has him salivating. Whether it’s because he’s hungry to eat your pussy again or just desperate to bury himself balls-deep he doesn’t know, but he wants it either way.

“Oh god, wait, it’s too much..” One of your hands grips his forearm, trying to pull his hand away from holding you down but you stand no chance. Good luck pushing against his godly frame. The only way you’d get him off would be if he took mercy on you. And he’s definitely not planning on that.

Your responsive cunt quivers around his digits. He feels your rushed breath and raised heart rate through the press of his hand. It’s delicious. Giving up any control you ever had over yourself and letting him take the wheel. Even though his pace is harsh, his rhythm is even. He fucks you silly as you cry out, eyes welling up with tears when he doesn’t let up.

“Wait, wait, wait, slow down! Please, fuck—oh fuck—please slow down, Homelander!” You sound shrill, panicked as an unfamiliar feeling rises in your core when Homelander’s fingers plunge into you over and over again, rubbing your wet cunt raw and sensitive. 

He doesn’t stop. Not yet. He wants another pretty big finish. He wants a display equivalent to the fanfare of the 4th of July fireworks. He wants you to celebrate him. Your body needs to appreciate how much he’s giving you.

Each wet throb of your pussy has his cock leaking into his underwear and if he were any ordinary man he’d be losing all self-control, rutting into the sheets or just you, chasing his own spectacular finish. But this is about you proving how much you love him. How much are you willing to endure?

 “Please, it’s too much, too much, toomuch.” You’re gasping for breath, your chest rising and falling rapidly. Your cheeks are streaked with tears as your pathetic attempts at getting him to stop fail. He’s unyielding. A marble statue. Perfect in every way.

Your cunt is vividly locking up around his fingers and while he expected a show-stopping orgasm he didn’t expect this. A gush of clear liquid spurts out of you, followed by wail coming from your lips. Fuck. You’re a squirter. He pulls his fingers out with a squelch as you gush a few more times, soaking his hand, the sheets beneath you and his sleeve. Looking at his soaked sleeve now he thinks he doesn’t even want to get it washed out, carrying the scent of your pussy around like a trophy. 

It’s uncontrollable. Your muscles quiver in a way he’s never seen before. He plunges his fingers into you again, greedy to see if there’s any more in you. Come on, you can do better for him. He deserves the fucking best.

He fucks his fingers into your weeping cunt rapidly, less rhythm this time as he realizes that the heavy breathing he hears is coming from him. You’re wetter than you’ve ever been, slick and squirt coating your thighs, running down in between your ass cheeks adding to the embarrassing bodily squelch of being just a bit too messy. 

It’s alright, he can be messy too. He’ll forgive you for this.

You throb hot and heavy around his fingers and he pulls them out again as he watches you gush two more respectable spurts out of your exhausted pussy. He finally lifts his palm off your pubic area and already you’re squirming, pulling back from him and letting your muscles quiver freely.

“Wow, someone didn’t share all their talents with me!” He looks at you. Wow. He wishes he had a camera on him. You’re panting, your eyes are wet and hazy, your lips are swollen from the way you’ve been biting them and you’ve broken out into sweat. “Made a nasty mess, sweetheart.” He gives your pussy a wet pat with his hand while it’s still in reach. 

“I didn’t—I didn’t know I could…” You sound wrecked. Jesus, he’s done a number on you. But that’s good, you do a number on him each time too. It was only fair you got to know what it's like to feel so uncontrollably good. “Umh, huh, I’m—I’m sorry. For the mess, I mean.” Aren’t you cute? He forced you to squirt and yet your good nature made you feel like apologizing. The only person you should apologize to should be the Vought employee that’s gonna be responsible for changing the sheets after he’s fully done with you. And even then they don’t fucking deserve your apology.

By now he’s had enough of you pulling away, trying to keep him away from this beautiful performance. My god, you were a natural at this. And he’s so fucking close to making you unravel fully.

“Shh, shh, none of that. No apologies. Instead…” He trails off, flashing you another sharp grin. He grabs you by your thighs pulling you right against where he's rock hard and aching. 

“Think you can do that on my cock too?”

Taglist (you can add(or remove) yourself to be tagged when I publish a new fic):

@infinetlyforgotten | @rafecamsgirlll | @nervoussystemss | @hom3landr

@mrsdesade | @nommingonfood | @littlegaaby | @jokesonyoupup

@natliecole | @misatxox

[devilander]

homelander x original female character

A young, newly presented Homelander met Posey Eldridge-Mercier, talented Music student, and was instantly besotted. Connecting over trauma and shared passions, Homelander and Posey thrived in the chaos of their romance—until Vought's interference led them bitterly astray.

Thirteen years later, they meet again; and perhaps what they say is true. No matter how brutal, what you love is your fate.

"There is no democracy in any love relation: only mercy." Gillian Rose

see ao3 for more

After Posey, music lost its place in his life. 

He could still hear it, though. Phantom pain. What those sad, pathetic cripples say they felt—pain in limbs no longer attached, no longer existent. Just like Posey—no more than a phantom, a minutiae of frilly moments he'd all but forgotten. Yet, the music, the intensity of the piano (Rachmaninoff, no?), the fragility of the violin (Dvořák, right?), her dainty fingers both precise and firm; he could still hear it, now and then, as if being suddenly transported to the past. 

He couldn't fucking stand it. 

It was an unspoken rule for those at Vought Tower—from the miserable little ants to Maeve—that certain... tunes were forbidden, unless they wished for him to break their legs. Even humming, if Homelander was in a particularly foul mood, could make him snap. It had happened what, four? Seven? A dozen times? he mused, clenching his fists, a painful smile stretching his face as he listened to random investors, whose names he'd already forgotten, prattle on and on—stock prices, the company's EBITDA, ripples of rising interest. 

A rehearsed act, one he'd mastered many years ago, but grating all the same, to stand still and pretend he actually gave a shit. And the fucking music—

It was a special gala. A celebration of Vought's anniversary; an excuse for networking while booze flowed freely. The New York Philharmonic had been hired, and as the conductor took to the stage, everyone present went back to their seats. Homelander was considering leaving the event entirely—to hell with those cocksuckers—when he noticed it. As the violinists started, intensely, poignant, after the grave sounds of cellos and double basses, one sway of hands in particular called to his memory. 

Even as his eyes took her in, he couldn't believe it. It was like being doused in freezing water (oh, and he was familiar with the feeling, Vogelbaum eager to test his limits, watching calmly as water filled his lungs without killing him). And when Posey's eyes, relaxed and focused, for a brief second found his, he was certain he wouldn't, or couldn't, breathe again. The fucking nerve, how dare she? He was ensnared by his rage. 

He could do it right now, laser her into oblivion as he had done with Madelyn. He could get on the stage, grab her by the neck and—what? Snap it? Have his way with her, in front of all to see? No, no, that would cause quite a scene. He could be patient, wait for the presentation to end while he pondered on what he'd do as soon as he got his hands on Posey once again. Privately, after so long. 

keep reading on ao3!

[zepskies]

And So It Goes - Part 20

Pairing: Billy Butcher x OFC (Latina!OC)

Summary: As Madelyn Stillwell’s personal assistant, Helena Flores finds herself caught between protecting her job, and more importantly her life—or helping Billy Butcher bring down the supe who killed her best friend, Becca.

AN: We’re almost to the end!

Word Count: 5,000

Tags/Warnings: Angst, peril, love triangle, a final showdown, character death, and a goodbye…

ASIG Series Masterlist

20: Father & Son

We’re probably gonna die, Helena thought, as M.M. pulled their off to a shaded side street behind Vought Tower.

Kimiko and Frenchie soon split off to get down to the lab, after Helena gave them precise directions on the best way to get there. While Hughie went to the Security control room to try and evacuate the building, Helena went with M.M. and Annie up several floors to find Butcher and Soldier Boy.

Once they got up to the upper floors, they came across a few stray Vought employees that were hastily making for the stairwell. When M.M. questioned where they were going in such a hurry, one of them answered, “Homelander’s about to fight Soldier Boy.”

Helena, M.M., and Annie continued at a faster clip down the hall, where they were able to hear familiar voices. M.M. slowed them to a stop in front of an office door, drawing his gun. Annie stepped in front of them protectively.

When she broke into the room, she raised a glowing hand. She soon dimmed it when she realized what was happening. Even M.M. stopped short, but Helena pushed through them both as her mouth fell open.

“Ryan!” she gasped.

He was with Homelander at the far end of the room. They, along with Butcher, Maeve, and Soldier Boy turned their heads at the intrusion. It was three on two, but Homelander had a loose and familial hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Ryan, a—are you okay?” Helena asked. She tried to step forward, but M.M. held her back. She glanced at him in annoyance, but he raised his brows at her.

She realized then he was just trying to protect her from making a potentially dangerous move forward, even though he was probably still angry at her. She was grateful, but still worried when she met Ryan’s blue eyes.

“I’m fine,” Ryan answered, though his voice had a slight shake to it. He seemed happy to see her (as happy as he could be in a moment like this), but Homelander’s hand kept the boy from taking a step forward. Helena softened, her heart aching. Homelander must have found him…and taken him.

She glanced at Butcher next. He was eyeing her in what the bloody hell are you doing here sort of way. She gave him a look he ought to know well. 

For you, you idiot. But her focus shifted back to Ryan.

Without Helena realizing, Ben’s gaze had drawn to her—at her panic-stricken face when she saw the boy with Homelander. Now that he knew who Ryan was, it made Ben look at her harder. She’d known what she was doing when she kept that information to herself, about her best friend’s son. His grandson. But Ben also begrudgingly understood why she kept that secret.

She was an idiot to come here though. His mouth firmed in a line when, unbidden, something she’d told him filtered back through his mind, on that first late night in her home.

“Why’re you up, anyway?” Ben asked.

“Well, I could blame it on the pain,” she replied, after downing two pills with her water. “But um…I keep replaying yesterday in my head, over and over like a bad movie. It always stops at the part where I look up at Homelander’s psychotic fucking eyes, and I just…I knew.”

Helena shook her head. Ben’s lips tugged downward.

“Knew what?” he asked.

“I’m officially on his hit list now,” she said. 

And the way she couldn’t help but look at Homelander in fear, like the supe was some kind of monster… Ben couldn’t help thinking (deep down), would she say the same of him?

“Don’t you see?” Homelander said. Once again, he commanded the attention in the room, even though it was Ben he was talking to, as if all the others didn’t matter. They were just specks in the realm of his existence.

Homelander smiled. “You have a family. You have him, and you have me.”

He nodded at Ryan, his hand tightening a fraction on the boy’s shoulder. Ben saw the kid tense up a little. Ryan’s eyes shifted from Homelander behind him, to Ben. And then beyond him, to Helena, and even Butcher. He wasn’t sure where he wanted to be, and Ben saw it.

Deep down, he could relate.

He stared back at Homelander, this thing that should’ve been his son. Ben’s lips quirked, and he stepped forward.

“It’s a shame that I’ve missed so much,” he said, in the face of Homelander’s burgeoning tears. “I wish I could’ve raised you, and taught you, father to son.”

“That’s okay,” Homelander whispered. “We’re not alone anymore. We have each other.”

Ben’s smile became more dry. He grasped Homelander’s shoulder. “Maybe if I’d raised you, I could’ve made you better. And not some weak, sniveling pussy, starved for attention. But there’s no fixing that now.”

“Weak?” Homelander echoed. His expression had dropped from tearfully hopeful, to shocked, and the beginnings of anger. “I’m you.”

“I know,” Ben said, hating the way his lips actually trembled at the admission. “You’re a fucking disappointment.”

He grabbed at Homelander’s face, tilting his laser eyes back. Butcher and Maeve came up on either side to secure the supe, but Ryan protested.

“Ryan, get out of the building, now!” Butcher told him. Still, the kid pushed back to try and help his father.

Helena broke away from M.M. and Annie in their shock to go to Ryan, but M.M. reacted at the last second to grab her arm.

“Let go of me!” she whipped back. M.M. stared down at her incredulously. She was human, the same as him, but unlike him, she wasn’t a fighter. She didn’t even have a weapon on her, let alone one that would work on Homelander or Soldier Boy.

“Are you crazy?!” he asked.

“Are you?” she retorted. She twisted out of his grip and managed to slip away from him.

By the time Helena turned back to the scene before them, Ryan’s eyes were glowing red.

He shot a laser beam right at Soldier Boy, knocking him through the far wall and onto his ass. When he got up, shaking rubble from his shoulders, he clearly wasn’t happy about it.

Fortunately, Helena reached Ryan just as Ben took a few intimidating steps forward.

“Ben, stop!” she shouted.

And it actually halted the supe’s steps. His brows were furrowed and his lips were pulled into a frown. His gait was tense, but she held her ground with her arms wrapped around Ryan. The boy’s fear made his eyes dim back to their normal hue as he glanced up at her, and then back at Soldier Boy. She was able to slowly tug Ryan behind her. 

“Please, don’t hurt him,” she said. Her tone was pleading, a hint unsteady. If he really wanted to get to Ryan, he’d have to go through her first.

Ben knew it…and found himself conflicted.

Meanwhile, Butcher had been mostly distracted with trying to help Maeve (and now Annie) keep Homelander held down. Now, he realized just how much this was all about to cost him. His eyes widened when he saw Soldier Boy’s threatening stance.

“Helena!” he called out, just before Homelander broke free. He punched Butcher down with a crack against his face. V24 was coursing through the man’s veins, allowing him to take the hit and deliver one right back.

“Scorched earth, eh William?” Homelander taunted. His red-hot gaze glanced in Helena’s direction. Butcher sneered and landed a blow right between the supe’s eyes.

Helena and Ben shared one last look.

Finally, he relented. He turned away with a surly frown, jumping back into the fray with Homelander. That was his real target, and she was grateful, blowing out a relieved breath before she turned back to face Ryan.

“What’re you doing here?” he asked.

She set her hands on his shoulders. “That’s my line, bud. Come on, let’s go.”

He resisted when she tried to pull him away from the warzone happening far too close for comfort, in an office that was not meant to contain a whole five-on-one super battle.

“No!” Ryan refused to move, shirking her grasp. “Homelander…he’s my dad. He cares about me.”

Helena let out a shaky breath. She laid more gentle hands on his arms.

“Ryan, he’s using you,” she said. “Whatever he told you, maybe he believed it…but I doubt he’s truly capable of caring about anyone but himself.”

“No, that’s…that’s not true,” Ryan shook his head in protest. When he pulled away from her, she tried to hold onto him a bit tighter so he wouldn’t get caught in the crossfire of the battle. M.M. saw them both and was trying to get around the danger zone himself to help them, but Ryan wasn’t helping Helena at all.

In fact, he broke away from her with such strength, he actually pushed her to the ground. She gasped at the impact when she fell. Not just at the shock of it, but at the pain; it disrupted her still broken ribs…which she’d ironically gotten when Homelander shoved her into a wall back at Herogasm.

Fuck, she sucked in a pained breath. She also saw the shock and dismay cross Ryan’s face. He hadn’t meant to push her that hard, to hurt her. She knew it when she saw that look.

She held up a hand to him, “It’s okay. I’m okay—”

 But in his guilt, Ryan backed away from her. He bolted out of the enclosed office and towards the rest of the fight that had finally moved into the other room.

“Ryan!” Helena called, even as he was escaping her. With difficulty, she got back onto her feet.

She was startled half out of her skin when Ben was flung into a nearby wall, making her scream and duck for cover as debris and office supplies exploded as a result. She took another painful spill across the floor. And rolling out of her inside pocket of her jacket came a small, green vial of V24.

Her eyes zeroed in, just before her hand closed around it. She dragged herself off the floor and back onto her feet, and then towards Ben, who was growling and shaking the dust off. He was prepared to head back into the fray, where the rest of them were still fighting Homelander. Ryan was hovering at the edge, scared and worried, no matter who got punched or tossed.

That’s it, Helena thought. Fuck it all.

“Ben,” she said raggedly, earning his attention. “Can you do me a favor?”

She went to him and offered him the tail end of a syringe she’d been storing in her other pocket. It was a miracle that it hadn’t broken in her tumbles.

 “Out of the fucking way,” he barked, after he eyed her in irritation. Clearly, I’m busy, his face suggested.

She took one of the biggest chances of her life and grabbed his arm.

“Please! I need your help,” she said.

He looked down at her through furrowed brows, asking a silent question with his eyes. Why me?

Her hand was shaking. She really just couldn’t bring herself to inject her body full of poison…but she had to.  

“I don’t want to be anyone’s weakness. I don’t want to be collateral damage,” she said. “But more than anything, I’m sick of being afraid.”

She grabbed his hand and put both the vial and the syringe in it.

“Goddamn it, Ben, just do it!” she said, through tears.

Gritting his teeth, he grabbed her arm, found a vein, and did his best to inject her correctly. But when that vile shit hit her system, she nearly collapsed.

“Fuck,” he muttered, but he kept her upright. She shuddered, her eyes briefly closing. All the while, Ben’s grip remained steady. Inside, however, he didn’t know why the fuck he was doing this. 

It felt too close to being soft. But maybe it was because a part of him, deep down (a part he didn’t want to think about), wanted to prove he was still some kind of hero. Or maybe, it was because he felt like he was repaying a debt.  

When the pain subsided, her body hummed with chemical electricity in her blood. She breathed through it and nodded.

“Thank you,” she said. After a short hesitation, his hands fell from her. Ben responded with a nod.

He turned on his heel and was about to head back into the battle fray, but was hit with a star bolt. It pushed him back a few feet but didn’t bring him down. His head snapped up with annoyance. Helena looked over with wider eyes to find Annie, now joined by Frenchie, Kimiko, Hughie. M.M. sideswiped Helena, forcing her out of the way while Kimiko and Annie surged forward against Ben.

With the temporary V coursing through her veins, Helena was finally strong enough to push back against M.M., making him stumble. He stared back at you in surprise.

“Are you on V?” he asked. “Did you just shoot the fuck up?”

Her lips pursed. She couldn’t deny it, nor would she.

“You know it’s fatal after a few doses, right?” he said tersely.

Helena’s eyes widened. She looked over at Butcher, who was still fighting Homelander and taking hot lasers to the arm, blocking his face.

She didn’t know how many doses he’d taken, but she could hazard a guess.

Too many.

Ben startled them both by tossing both Annie and Kimiko at opposite ends of the room. He stalked forward, ignoring her and M.M. in order to get to Homelander.

M.M. tensed up, like he was about to follow the supe, but Helena grabbed his arm.

“Look, I know what he did to you, but let him at least end Homelander, for fuck’s sake!” she snapped.

“Do you want the entire building to blow the fuck up?” he shot back. He gestured over at Ryan, still huddled against the wall. “Try to get him out of here first!”

On that, they could agree.

Just then, Homelander tore through the room with his laser vision, regardless of who or what he hit. When the beam swept across the middle and went for Ryan on the other side, Helena ran to him and had them both dive for the ground. She protected his head.

Meanwhile, Butcher grabbed the supe by the cape in attempt to bring him to heel. Ben came up on the other side and pinned him down to the ground while Homelander fought both of their holds.

Ryan turned onto his side after Helena raised off of him. He looked up at her with wide eyes, but there was guilt behind them, lingering from when he pushed her.

“Why…why are you and Butcher here? Why do you hate my dad?” he asked. His voice was so small and upset, it made tears well up in Helena’s eyes.

“I’m here because I care about you,” she said. “Homelander’s not your father. Not really. He’s the reason you and your mom were alone for all those years. He’s the reason she couldn’t be with Billy, and why you had to grow up alone. Your mom was protecting you from him.”

Tears stung at Ryan’s eyes as well. He bit his lip and shook his head; he didn’t want to believe her.

“You’re wrong,” he said tremulously. “He’s…he’s not mad at me for what happened to Mom. For…”

Helena had to try and swallow past a tight ball of emotion. She was about to respond when an iron grip tangled in her hair and grabbed her up. A shriek tore from her throat as she was yanked to her feet and almost off the ground. Her hands flew up to claw at Homelander’s.

Ryan’s eyes flew wide again. He scrambled onto his feet as well and faced his father.

“Stop!” he pleaded. “Don’t hurt her!”

Homelander tilted his head at his son, with a grim set to his face. “Don’t you see? They’re all cockroaches. They’re mud people. Ryan, they’re not like us.”

V24 didn’t take away her fear, Helena realized. It just magnified what was already inside. 

“Leave him alone, you son of a bitch,” she hissed, regardless of the terrified, angry tears burning in her eyes.

Across the room, M.M. stared down at Butcher angrily. It was hard to maintain it when the other man had just saved him from getting pounded with Soldier Boy’s shield, but M.M. had a high threshold of “Fuck you, Butcher” leftover. 

Despite that, M.M. helped Butcher pick himself up from the rubble. Then he noticed something else. 

“Butcher,” M.M. said sharply. Butcher followed his gaze and landed on Homelander; he saw the supe’s killer grip on Helena’s hair, with Ryan pleading at him to stop.

Butcher’s eyes widened. He called her name from across the room. 

Slowly Homelander’s head turned. 

He smirked. The kind of manic smile that said he’d get to have his revenge twice. 

His eyes took on a red, glowing hue.

But a violet haze surged from Helena’s hands, not only disrupting Homelander’s concentration, but forcing him to let go of her entirely. It was a forcefield that threw him back across the far wall.

She stumbled to her feet and would’ve fallen if Ryan hadn’t reached out to steady her. She gave him a grateful smile, and she let her arm fall around his shoulders.

Butcher was shocked, relieved, and angry all at once. 

When and how the fuck did she take Temp V?

Despite the look of surprise on most faces in the room, Ben was the only one who remained stoic.

Homelander peeled himself from the wall with a growl. He stalked forward, but he was met with Butcher stepping in front of Helena and Ryan. 

Butcher blocked the first punch Homelander threw. He just couldn’t avoid the second brutal one that cracked against his nose. Homelander twisted his arm and wrenched, until Butcher was forced almost to his knees.

“You may be hopped up, but you’re just a try-hard, dick-sucking groupie,” Homelander taunted. “Real power is—”

Ryan stumbled forward and pushed Homelander hard in the chest, enough to make the other man’s grip on Butcher loosen. Ryan moved to stand in front of Butcher and Helena.   

“Son?” Homelander asked, with wide, confused eyes. 

All the commotion in the room paused. Even the fight against Soldier Boy came to a standstill, including Maeve, who was sporting one eye and a bloody hole where the other used to be (courtesy of Homelander). She propped herself up against the wall and watched Homelander intently.

Soldier Boy watched as well. If he lit up the nuclear power in his chest now, he could make Homelander powerless. But…it would be hard to control it in here. He glanced at Butcher and Helena kneeling on the ground. She’d come to his side and was propping him up, just as his arm was around her protectively. 

I don’t want to be collateral damage, she’d said.

Meanwhile, Ryan was scared with tears in his eyes, but he held his ground against his father with determination. 

“Stop,” he said. “Please just stop.”

Homelander couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His own son was protecting the one man he hated most in this world. 

“But…why?” he asked incredulously. “I’m your blood. I’m…I’m your family.”

Butcher grabbed Ryan’s jacket.

“Ryan, don’t,” he said. Ryan looked over his shoulder at them, at Butcher.

“It’s okay,” he said.

Butcher didn’t entirely know what that meant, but he couldn’t help but marvel when the kid turned back to face his father.  

“I understand you, Ryan. Better than anyone,” Homelander said earnestly. He probably even believed that.  

Ryan lip wobbled with emotion. He hadn’t realized it, not until Homelander grabbed Helena and threatened to kill one of the only people who’d ever been nice to him. Ryan saw it when Homelander had turned to Butcher next, with something evil in his eyes.

“You’ve hurt everyone I care about,” Ryan realized, with a small gasp of a sob. “You…you hurt my mom.”

Homelander’s eyes soon became glassy, angry, and insane.

“I think you took the fucking cake on that one, sport,” he retorted. 

Ryan flinched. Tears poured down Ryan’s cheeks as that blow cut into him. 

But he instinctively let those emotions fuel him. He hovered above the ground in flight, almost eye-level with Homelander. His eyes glowed red. 

Homelander smirked through unshed tears. He supposed it was fine; he’d been prepared to rule through fear before. 

You don’t need anyone, that voice deep inside whispered. Not even Ryan.

And here, Ben finally saw his chance. 

“Hey, Real Power,” he snarked, just before he grabbed Homelander by the edge of his cape and headbutted him. After throwing him off balance, Ben kicked him into a glass coffee table, making it shatter. He continued forward and grabbed Homelander by his collar next. 

Then he began to charge up that nuclear power in his chest. Homelander grabbed his arm and tried to twist out of his grip, but Ben held on in determination. Maeve helped him by kicking out Homelander’s knee. She and Ben briefly shared a grim look. 

“We could’ve taken on the whole world,” Homelander gritted out. Ben smirked. 

“Maybe. But I never took well to sharing the spotlight,” he said, and threw another punch that snapped Homelander’s head back. All the while, his chest continued to illuminate and become impossibly hot. 

If Ben let go of his power now, he could end Homelander for good. But if he did, he’d probably level the whole block. He glanced over Homelander’s shoulder. Butcher held both Helena and Ryan, waiting to protect them from the impending blast. 

Butcher kept Helena close with an arm around her waist. Deep down, Ben reluctantly felt a twinge of jealousy. Until Helena peeked up fearfully and found Ben’s eyes. Even with the power V24 gave her, he doubted it would do them much good. 

With that brief distraction, Homelander broke free with an angry shout.

“Goddamn it,” Ben growled. 

While the other supe tried to fly backwards to save himself, Ben rushed forward and leapt, grabbing the supe in mid-air. They both crashed through the far window out of the Tower.

Ben blasted him with everything he had.

Homelander tried to fight off his hanger on, but the power behind the blast disrupted his own, including his flight.

And from that great height, Soldier Boy and Homelander fell. Whatever wasn’t contained by the two of them grappling hit the rest of the Tower behind them.

Inside the building, Helena managed to draw up a forcefield that protected them all from the initial blast. Whatever she couldn’t cover was eaten away, leaving a giant hole in the side of the building. Butcher looked up at the violet haze, then at her with consternation.

“Oh, don’t even,” she snapped at him. “One dose of Temp V won’t kill me.”

His lips pursed, but he still helped her up to her feet, along with Ryan. Helena checked the boy to make sure he was all right. She brought her hands up to his cheeks and held his face.

“You okay?” she asked.

Ryan smiled a little a nodded. “Yeah.” 

She smiled back. “Good.”

Butcher’s lips twitched. He laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder, but he also moved a hand down to the small of Helena’s back, earning her attention. For a moment, their eyes met. That look was charged with unspoken meaning, cutting through things like, “I told you so,” and “What were you thinking?” And, “You ass.”

But the common denominator of it all was this.

Butcher tugged her close for a hard kiss. His beard was rough, his grip was tight, but his lips were tender. She responded in kind, gripping the shorter hair at the back of his head and matching his passion with her own.

He pulled away after a moment, meeting her eyes with a silent request. She held his cheek, and she nodded. Later they would hash the rest of this out, but for now, this was enough.

Butcher then turned to Ryan and took a knee in front of him.

“You don’t hate me anymore?” Ryan asked, in a small voice.

Butcher sighed, wiping a hand over his tired face.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “for what I said last time. What happened to Becca, to your mum…it ain’t your fault, son.”

Ryan’s eyes glistened with tears. He sniffed, and Butcher squeezed his shoulder. 

“Look, kid. I’m not a good man. Christ, you’re already a better one than me. But, as long as you want me around…I’m here for ya.”

Ryan hugged him. Butcher was surprised by it at first, but slowly, he let himself hug Ryan back.

Helena teared up and laid a gentle hand on Butcher’s back. Hughie even came up on her left to nudge her shoulder. She smiled and patted his arm back. The others, though battered, bruised, and in some cases bloody, had gotten back on their feet. 

“Butcher, we gotta go,” M.M. reminded him. “Homelander and Soldier Boy damn dear exploded the block down there.”

Homelander’s crash landing had created a crater inside the ground outside of Vought Tower. Coils of smoke came off of his body, as most of his uniform was burnt off, along with a good part of his neck and torso. 

Butcher stood over him, creating a shadow that Homelander couldn’t escape. Homelander opened his eyes wide, as if to laser him, but nothing came out. 

His eyes widened in shock this time. “What the fuck…” 

He crawled out of the crater, his uniform in tatters. He managed to stumble to his feet and throw a punch at Butcher, who easily dodged. 

The blast had done its job. Homelander was a powerless mess. That realization dawned on the man, and soon had him frothing at the mouth in disbelief. Butcher pulled out a gun from his belt, a formerly useless gun, and shot Homelander in the head. Right between the eyes. 

Homelander’s body fell to the ground, just as Helena came out of the building with Ryan. With a gasp, she shielded the boy’s eyes.

“Don’t look,” she told him. Ryan allowed himself to bury his face against her chest, biting his lip as a few tears escaped and soaked into her shirt.  

Grace Mallory showed up minutes later with two SUVs of CIA agents for the cleanup—not only to set a perimeter around the crater, but to take Homelander’s body. Helena had Mallory steer Ryan away, though she promised to check on him soon.

Helena was going to join where Butcher, M.M., and the rest of them had gathered next, but she noticed something. There were drops of blood leading away from the crater, into a nearby alley.

With suspicion churning in her gut, she followed the trail into the alley. By now it was still dark outside, even with the sun starting to peek out from between the city skyscrapers. The deeper part of the alley was still cast in darkness.

A hand shot out and grabbed her by the waist, at the same time another covered her mouth. She gasped and was about to scream, when she came face to face with Ben. He shushed her.

She frowned at him with furrowed brows.

“Ben?! What the hell?” she hissed between his fingers and tried to pry them off. He eventually let her go. He still had a supe’s strength, so she could assume that the blast had only taken away Homelander’s powers, not Ben’s.

“What are you doing?” she asked, both incredulous and annoyed. “Are you okay?”

He gave you an amused smirk. “I’m fine.”

He hadn’t been sure what she would do when she saw him. Ask about his wellbeing wasn’t it, but it had smugness welling up in his chest. It seemed like she didn’t hate him too much after all.

“I know all about the Mob Squad’s genius plan to gas me up and stuff me in a goddamn box,” he said, less pleasantly. “That’s not fucking happening.”

Helena’s lips pursed. “So what are you going to do?”

Maybe she didn’t want to see him in a box either, and maybe he’d just done the entire world a solid by taking out Homelander, but that didn’t mean Ben wasn’t dangerous all on his own.

“I’m taking my well-earned vacation,” he said. His smirk deepened. “But two tickets to paradise could be arranged.” 

Helena sighed with a smile, shaking her head. 

“I don’t think so, Ben,” she said, though she tilted her head at him. “You could be a real hero, you know. If you did the work.”

He stared down at her for a moment. He eventually quirked a grin. 

“A lot of your friends would call that a lost cause,” he said.

“Prove your father wrong. Prove me right,” she said, raising a brow. “I dare you.”

“Hmm,” Ben said. He considered her as his smirk softened slightly, into a more sincere smile.

Instead of answering her, he slid a hand around her waist and pulled her flush against him. She gasped and held onto his arms on reflex. It gave him the opening he needed to steal a kiss.

Helena was too shocked to heed her first instinct, which was to slap him in the face. 

He soon pulled away, giving her another familiar smirk at her angry, blushing face. 

But after he stroked her cheek and finally let go of her, she realized that this was a goodbye.

“Maybe next time, sweetheart,” said Ben.

He backed away from her, deeper into the darkness of the alley. She couldn’t see him well, just the outline of his broad form, but she thought she heard the last bit of his voice.

“Goodbye, Helena.”

And then he was gone.

AN: Sigh. Thus ends Homelander, son of no one. How did you like Ben and Helena's goodbye? 😂

We're at the end, folks.

Next Time:

When his gaze found hers, they didn’t need words.

They were home.

His head bowed to greet Helena with a kiss, languid and unhurried.

His hand moved under the sheets to slip under her silky top, splaying across her lower back. Her arm twined around his neck in turn, her fingers slipping into his dark hair. Hers was already wild this morning; it both tickled his arm and fanned across her pillow.

She nipped his bottom lip and earned a pleased sound from him, deep in his throat. But before he could roll her onto her back, they heard quick footsteps coming up the stairs.

Butcher groaned, dropping his forehead onto her shoulder. But a smile twitched at his mouth.

“Incoming,” he muttered.

Keep Reading: Epilogue

The Boys Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Tag List:

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[freshlyrage]

Another chapter. Another time jump. Another state. Andreas chapter coming soon xx

[whereismymindnow]

Angel of My Dreams 2

Madelyn continued prattling on with Mike behind her as the makeup artist added touches of concealer to her face. The talk of how the song was perfect for tonight, how it would reach millions as they tuned into Vought TV.

“You do realise that the song isn’t exactly a love story, correct?” Harper interjected as Madelyn said how much Homelander had enjoyed listening to the song this morning. Apparently he had the last word of what would be performed tonight, but Harper knew that Miss Madelyn was the one that really pulled the reins.

“We don’t need a love story. We need drama.

“We need passion.

“We need fire. It’s perfect for Homelander, and with your voice, its gold dust.”

I know it’s a brilliant song, that’s why I wrote it. Harper bit her tongue and turned back to her reflection. This collaboration was already beginning to bore her. Vought had so many rules and regulations… quite frankly it was tedious. There were songs she could no longer sing and subjects that should be avoided. She was a grown woman that enjoyed singing about simple pleasures, but this would be too much for the religious groups that supported Vought so it was no longer an option.

It was humbling enough that she had to pretend that the little prick Mike was her boss, but now she had Vought to contend with… if she didn’t enjoy her ability to blend in the shadows and hunt as The Siren, then she’d reveal herself on camera and show them exactly who she was. Humanity was so dull.

A hurried knock echoed around the room and redhead poked her head around the door. “You’re on in 5, Harper.”

“Ah, you guys killed it as always!” Homelander clapped along with the audience, his signature toothy grin on show as he bowed to the cheers and praise. He fucking loved his birthday performance. It was all about him. The only name on everyone’s lips was his and all of the sycophants bowed down to him and threw money at Vought. What wasn’t to love?

“Now, I have a special someone here tonight that I’d like to introduce to you all. Her voice is world renowned and her talents are endless. It is my pleasure to welcome on to the stage, Harper!” He backed off, joining in with the applause, and stood back behind the curtains. His smile dropped and his glare pierced into the girl that stood in the darkness on the stage. This better be the performance of a lifetime.

A single light flickered on in the background to reveal Harper stood by herself, looking down at her feet that peaked out from under the dress. She wore a flowy white gown with makeup designed to look like glittering tears down her cheeks. Her gaze slowly rose to face the centre camera as she raised the microphone.  

Angel of my dreams I will always love you and hate you, it's not fair It's so bittersweet I will always want you and need you, you don't care You don't-

As she finished the first verse, some more dim lights turned on and followed her form. She almost looked ethereal as she stepped forward to the centre of the stage and held her hand to her chest.

Care that I'm mad, care that I'm sad It's so bad, it's funny Care if I cry, care if I die You only care about money (money) Sellin' my soul to a psycho They say I'm so lucky Better act like you're lucky, honey

Harper gave a sneer as she sang the last line. All of her thoughts going to Vought and the ridiculous management company that thought they controlled her. Oh, she’d show them who the lucky one was. They were all lucky that she let them continue to breathe in her presence.

But it feels nice In the spotlight When the camera flashy, I act so happy I'm in heaven when you're lookin' at me

She allowed a smile to grace her face as the music altered tempo and noted that people sat forward in their chairs. They were eager to have even an ounce of her attention and she adored it. She was a star, after all. The Siren was a performer of the arts and enjoyed nothing more than her audience showing her just how desperate and starving they all were. The whispers of the The Siren made her sound like she was the one that hungered, but she wasn’t. How could she be hungry when people gave themselves to her at every instant. They gave their awe, their focus, their dedication. Each droplet was carefully savoured by her.

Angel of my dreams I will always love you and hate you, it's not fair It's so bittersweet I will always want you and need you, you don't care Love when you call me a star You let me down in the dark Want you and need you, you don't care It's not fair

Homelander sucked in a breath as the emotion of the song gave her voice a more gravelly quality. She danced forward, arms moving with the music as she span around the stage. The minimal lighting of the performance added further atmosphere as the single female took the attention of everybody in front of her. He felt his heart pound as he absorbed every fibre of her being. His fists clenched as he fought the urge to pull her into his arms and taste every inch of her. He had been so close the other evening to acting out on his desires but he stopped himself. He was certain her eyes had been glowing when he hovered outside of her room. If Madelyn hadn’t been talking to him and he had been earlier, then he was certain he would have seen her true face. There was something about her. She wasn’t like the humans around her. Her body let out an energy and a scent that he hadn’t experienced before. It wasn’t human, that much he was certain, but he hadn’t managed to catch it yet. Was she a supe? He felt like she was, there was something chemical about her, but he needed more than a hunch. He needed evidence. He would get evidence.

Fair that I try, fair that I grind Fair that I buy you sushi Got you a car, got you a house Got you a suit, it's Gucci If I don't win, I'm in the bin You say you never knew me But when I pop off you sue me, so sue me

She winked into the camera, knowing that Mike was watching with Madelyn backstage. Let them watch. Let them see exactly who the fuck she was. She had more power than they realised, even when showing herself as just a little human. This was her show. This was her game. This was her meal.

But it feels nice (it feels nice) In the spotlight (in the spotlight) When the camera flashy, I act so happy

I’m in heaven

I’m in heaven I'm in heaven when you're lookin' at me

Harper felt her disgust bubbling within her veins as she belted out at the last words. Her anger and upset over her current treatment flowed through as she sang. She wasn’t some piece of furniture to bartered over. She was The fucking Siren. She ate people for a fucking living and made the rest fall in love with her. Fuck Homelander. Fuck Vought!

Angel of my dreams I will always love you and hate you, it's not fair It's so bittersweet I will always want you and need you, you don't care Love when you call me a star You let me down in the dark Want you and need you, you don't care It's not fair

Homelander felt his trunks tighten as the girl stormed across the stage and her voice echoed throughout the arena. She didn’t even need the microphone; her voice hit the eardrums of each and every person within the immediate area. The camera kept focused on her face, zooming in on her eyes as she completely let herself loose within the music. He saw the truth in her eyes. The anger, the hatred. The tears dropped down her face as part of the act but he could taste the salty liquid as though they poured down his own throat. He wanted to drink them like he was a man lost in the desert and they were his only water. He wanted to consume her fully.

Angel of my dreams I will always love you and hate you, it's not fair It's so bittersweet I will always want you and need you, you don't care

I'll always love you

Harper ended the performance on her knees with an arm outstretched to the camera that zoomed in on her face. She forced tears out of her eyes and exhaled a deep breath as the audience immediately stood and applauded her. Her face remained with the heartbroken expression for a few moments before she broke character and grinned. The energy around her sunk into her paws and she bit her lip as it sank into her pores and made her blood sing. Oh, how she longed to tear them apart with her teeth. Perhaps one day she’d have her moment to engorge herself, but for now, the energy that came off them would be enough.

[magnoliaschaosfixation]

Cover for my fanfic set in The Boys universe. You can find it here on Ao3, ft. takes place around the start of season 2 and will continue on into the future seasons.

[justjessame]

Babysitting Butcher: Chapter 82

If you’re wondering if I would be so bold as to have an entire scathing conversation with Homelander basically naked, then I assure you I am and I did.

“Aren’t you going to put something on?” Even he wasn’t aware of how fucking done I was with this entire world that he tried to make me a pawn in, but he’d learn oh would he fucking learn.

Leaning against the countertop, I crossed my arms and stared at him. “I feel comfortable in this,” and that got him on his feet where he mirrored my stance. “You wanted to talk and you know what? I want to fucking talk it out too. After all, this will be the first fucking time you actually want to hear what I have to say - since you seem more than fucking happy with just making decisions about me, my life, my actual genetic fucking makeup and damn near everything else, without once speaking to me.”

His mouth dropped open, but I wasn’t sure he wanted to speak and more importantly I didn’t fucking care if he did.

“So, oh mighty one, let me assure you that had you actually sat down and acted like a NORMAL fucking person and ASKED me if I wanted to - I don’t know, have your fucking baby implanted in me - resounding fucking NOOOO!” And now that I was letting shit out, I went full frontal, so to speak. “You know, it isn’t your creepy as fuck breastfeeding kink, or the fact that you probably are the most active and effective fucking peeping Tom in the history of the goddamn world that would keep me from even considering you as a potential mate. It’s your fucking certainty that you are somehow better than EVERY FUCKING ONE.” Taking a breath, I started back in. “Not just humans, oh no, not just regular fucking human beings, but actually you think you are a fucking GOD and that every single being on the goddamn planet - or maybe if there’s life on other planets it should include the fucking universe - and that we should all just fucking BOW TO YOUR GREATNESS! Well, I’m sick of it. I’m sick of you deciding what’s fucking best or worst, or whatever and I’m sick of you getting to push my life completely off course just because you think that you could MAKE me into the perfect fucking baby incubator -” my vision was blurred and I made a sound that sounded suspiciously like a sob and stopped. Damn it.

“Veronica,” he was quiet, too fucking quiet considering just how fucking angry I’d been and it had all come crashing out onto him. “I - I’m sorry.” I pulled the edge of the towel I’d tucked in to make my version of a toga free and wiped my eyes. I hated showing weakness, but I definitely hated showing it here, with him.

“Yeah, well that and a dollar gets you nothing here.” And I moved to leave the bathroom, but I forgot that I was sharing space with someone who had no fucking concept of personal space or reading the room he’d invaded - so I shouldn’t have been shocked when his hands pulled me into his chest, but I was surprised that he simply held me as I pounding my own hands against it and sobbed. Grieving every single thing and person I was losing, and would lose, all because I wasn’t me anymore.

And he just fucking held me. Just let me let it all out and held me while I cried and smacked, wearing myself out, and running out of steam far too fucking early for my liking. Then, once I seemed finished with my outburst, he made sure his hold on me was loose enough that I could pull free and wrap my towel tighter around myself.

“I am sorry,” shaking my head. I didn't want to look up, but damn it I’m too curious and like to see people’s faces when they’re talking to me. He certainly learned how to mimic how one was supposed to look when they’re theoretically sorry. “I am, and I hope that one day, sooner than later, you’ll let me show you -”

“Show me? Show me that you’re sorry?” He waited for me to either process what he was meaning or to let me get another surge of irritation so I could attack again - verbally of course, I wasn’t entirely stupid. “I don’t know if anyone has that much sorrow in their being, much less you.”

“Didn’t you just say that I think I’m better than everyone?” He shook his head and that’s when I realized that I hadn’t noticed how he was fucking dressed. “What?”

“What are you wearing?” I mean, I could SEE what he was wearing, but what the literal fuck?

“I’m wearing -” did he look uncertain? No, of course not, another act. “You asked why I was always wearing my uniform so I thought I’d try something different -” he tried to shrug, but it looked wrong.

“You’re wearing a fucking baseball cap,” not to mention jeans, a t-shirt, jeans, and were those fucking Nikes?

“I thought, if you could see me out of the uniform -” great, a flash of him sans clothing came to me, actually flickered over what he was currently wearing and I was irritated alright - that he didn’t actually have panels that made him look like he had chiseled features. Fucker.

Wait, did I just - “What powers am I supposed to get -” but I didn’t finish, not when my hand dropped through the countertop, chipping the marble like it was paper. “FUCK.”

[themeraldee]

Do you think homelander would be like those boyfriends in those videos online when the boyfriends will shake their heads at their partner when watching something like a rom com, reality TV show, or shows like ya know vampire diaries, gossip girl, ect and makes fun of it then leaves the room "judging" them, only to come back and stand glued to the TV bc they actually got invested in the drama and sit down next to them to watch it together . I feel like homie would make fun of shows like that and then secretly sneak back in, tryna see what happens next then when his partner turns around and catches him watching they just pat the seat next to them being like "Come on, ill restart the entire show for you since you like it sm" and he'd be grumbling but end up sitting down and watching it? Sorry if this is worded oddly and if you dont know what videos I'm talking about

HAH! I haven't actually seen the videos you mean but I know the trope. You know what I totally see him watching trash TV (alongside 'girly' TV shows). Like he'd lowkey get into the storylines and like you say begrudgingly be sitting down and watching from the start bcs dammit at least this is more entertaining than Deep's interview that was running live on a different channel.

Just give the man a hobby, I beg. Also it'd be nice for him to get a routine with his partner going. Like okay we gotta make sure we watch our daily episode. Can't go to bed without our ritual.

At the end of the day, the content doesn't matter. He's doing happy normal people things and spending time with his SO. What's not to like!

Get cuddled up and cosy in some jammies and a soft blanket and you're golden!

[alienatedbug]

Evil Tetro au !! Okazaki/Tsuno designs

Its kinda difficult to read my handwriting so plot and design choices under the cut :3

(Ignore my spelling mistakes.. mb)

Warnings: drugs and poorly written/explained points Design

I wanted Tsuno and Okazaki to parallel each other design wise and motive wise. Okazaki has brighter, more lighter values for them to stand out compared to Tsuno’s cooler tones, darker values.

Underneath Oka’s shawl, is a darker fabric to symbolise her less ‘heroic’ Robin Hood persona they put on. (I’m not a big fan of completely wiping a character’s personality in AUs so I still wanted Oka’s more villainess tendencies). The darker colours in their lower half is also emulate this. Okazaki has a feathers throughout her design bc it looked good, I don’t really have anything to say to add. Large feathers beneath Oka is to show her Kitsune motifs- as well as this, I thought it would be quite interesting the Kitsune/feathery tails could act as a ‘cat with nine lives’ esk thing. Okazaki in this AU is an attention seeker who strives for danger to stand out from others which causes them to get into near death experiences.

Tsuno time !

Okay, the design choices are mostly random icl. I wanted Tsuno to have a more stereotypical hero suit ig. It makes more sense if you read the story part. Tsuno has a more streamlined, simple silhouette (and sharper bc shape language) as in this AU she doesn’t realllly want to stand out as this could out her ‘nightly activities’ but does anyways. Her hair to suppose to look like a ghost since like ghosts aren’t seen..(I can’t word this part well). The reversed hair, specifically the black part, is too show her dark mindset. The symbol is a moon also to symbolise her ‘nightly activities’.

What is her nightly activities you may ask? Selling drugs to the poor, shown by the strap across her body. Inside the bottles are either drugs, to illegally sell or chemicals to throw as Okazaki lmao.

Not much else other than those main design choices so off to the plot we go !!

Plot

The characters are ooc and the story is not believable whatsoever but that was the look I was going for, so don’t come after me x

This AU is (ofc) inspires by that Von post as well as the DC franchise (specifically the Gotham area).

I wanted the story to focus on perspectives, which I’m a big fan of, most if not all of the characters believe themselves as ‘correct’ n stuff. So Okazaki, being the protag is an unreliable narrator constantly, exaggerating her feats and good achievements. They act as a Robin Hood/Dark Knight amalgamation. However, as the story continues the characters that follow Oka slowly realise that Oka isn’t all that she seems.

The main plot is as followed: Okazaki goes by the name of the ‘Phantom Thief’ they travel the country to fight evildoers, to rid the country of criminals and get more street cred. As Okazaki continues to travel Japan, she slowly recruits people to her cause (E.g. Watari and Tamba).

The main antagonists are: Sasaki and Tsuno (maybe one or two more). They both have the same motivations of taking over Japan and subsequently, the world they also most definitely hate each others guts.

Now how does Tsuno do this? Tsuno, like said previously, Tsuno sells drugs. Like the type of drugs (like Arcane) which makes the people who gets addicted extremely reliant to them- this means Tsuno is able to control them more easily and can act as her lackeys. Tsuno thinks drugs are the best thing to grace the planet, but she follows Walter White’s rule of never taking the herself to not get addicted herself.

How has Tsuno able to not get arrested? Two things, the police fucking suck and she basically runs the law. In this AU, Tsuno has a goodie-two-shoes superhero facade (like Homelander from the boys) making her OP in the sense of everyone thinks she can’t do any harm whatsoever. Which is why she wears a hood, to hide her face.

—

This was very fun to write and design evil tetro characters so I will be doing this again so if you want me to design/write of the the Tetro characters feel free to ask in my inbox but rq two since I’ll be doing it in batches of two x. Thanks so much for reading if you’ve read to the end i really appreciate it <33

[moonastro]

Juno persona chart

fama (408) asteroid in the houses

what is a juno persona chart? looking into juno persona chart gives more detailed insight of how the relationship and marriage overall of you and your spouse will be like. it also describes them in a sense as well. The Greek Goddess Juno is described to rule over love and marriage and hence why the asteroid is looked into for that theme.

the asteroid fama (408) represent how an individual may find success and fame hence the name. in the juno persona chart, the asteroid fama will indicate how the marriage will bring the individual themes of fame in such as attention, success or recognition.

reminder: this is my interpretation from observations and first hand experiences, so don't take this to heart.

fama in 1st house: couple may find success and attention from how they express their way, how they approach things and the way that they look ofc. mostly lenient towards the appearance of the couple, depending of the sign of the first house it may play out a bit differently, for example sagittarius may receive attention of how foreign they appear to be together either if its cultural or not.

other things related: arguments, conflict, independence, fast- paced, self-worth, self- made, strength, body, actions, face, facial features, beauty, cars, vehicles, head, scars, battles, defence, scars, burns, opinions.

fama in 2nd house: the couple may get recognition from their generosity to other people. from their voices so for example speaking up about matters going on in the world. may be recognised by the things they own to express their financial value.

other things related: patience, stubbornness, food, cooking, eating, singing, expressive voice, tone of voice, possessions, items owned, shopping, money earned, luxury items.

fama in 3rd house: it may start as a rumour and this placement gets attention from rumours that people make about them, I'm not even kidding this is the placement that is known from others talking about them, true or not.

other things related: communication, internet, social media, high school, high school friends, friends, siblings, neighbourhood, cars, early education, writing, publishing, books, articles, gossip, newsletter, news.

fama in 4th house: couple may get recognition and attention from having a big family. it may not be big but it may also make your family stand out that other people notice. couple may get attention from their heritage and from their homeland, they may also find success if they have a family member who is well known and so the couple may be known from that.

other things related: mother, house, land owned, land received, ancestors, caring nature, being empathetic, emotions, being vulnerable, crying, being upset, having a mental breakdown.

fama in 5th house: couple may get recognition quite easily. may find success in doing hobbies together or hanging out in entertainments events or industries such as dance, music, art, movies and acting.

other things related: laughter, hobbies, kids, romance, s*x life, cheating, flings, partying, clubbing, being wasteful, being dramatic, being loud, talent, stage, public, audience, speech.

fama in 6th house: literally getting noticed from having a busy schedule. others may speculate on maybe the couple having no free time and always on the move. also may get recognised by other people criticising them for example, if in scorpio criticising the couple on how private they are, cancer criticising the couple on how emotionally vulnerable they are and so forth.

other things related: pets, routine, hard work, being critical, being obsessive, being organised, being too strict, labour, ill- health, accidents, bruising, fighting.

fama in 7th house: couple may receive attention from the contracts that they hold, also from their relationship as a couple in general may cause attention. the enemies that the couple may have can give them attention. also the way the couple deal with things can raise awareness.

other things related: law broken, beauty, taste, relationships, enemies, other peoples opinions, other peoples doings, other people being involved, marriage, love, interests, fashion, clothing, make-up, skin care, vlogs.

fama in 8th house: marriage may find success when discussing taboo topics or not being afraid to transform into new versions of themselves whether it be changing habits or changing lifestyles-look at sign for more detail.

other things related: abusiveness, clubbing, spirituality, death, s*xual acts, being obsessive and possessive, tax, money received from other people, money earned, people giving money.

fama in 9th house: the marriage and the couple may get attention by their broad mind lifestyle. this includes all of the themes that may related to religion, spirituality, culture and education. may get attention from their education, like the degrees that they may have, a blog about teaching etc.

other things related: travel, higher education, spirituality, meditation, working on oneself, time of reflection, learning, cultures, languages, expressions, going off from one extreme to the next, in-laws.

fama in 10th house: the couple in the marriage may get recognised from their careers. they may be in a stable, hard working environment or perhaps they spend too much of their time focused on their career. this can also be an indication of the couple working together in the same industry or even having the same job.

other things related: career, money, age, time, public, job, coldness, high rank, being closed off, keeping to oneself, what other people see, rules, strictness, schedule, father.

fama in 11th house: couple may find attention and success in events where there is a gather of people. themes of hosting or even attending may cause the couple to find attention. being unconventional such as kissing in public or things like that can raise attention. not following the norm of society can also give the couple attention.

other things related: groups, social groups, uniqueness, friends, older siblings, internet, social status, recognition, technology, unconventional, breaking rules, not caring, being emotionless, being detached.

fama in 12th house: the couple may get recognition from their ability to be intuitive and empathetic for others. couple may find success in travels, assisting others in their spiritual journey, seeing the beaty in everything. couple may get rewarded for being imaginative and doing the impossible.

other things related: travel, overseas, holiday, hospital, bedroom, sleep, dreams, drugs, alcohol, addiction, mental health, abuse, isolation, being extreme, foreign environments.

this was a short post but its pretty interesting nonetheless but thank you for reading and have a nice dayy.

[mrsdesade]

I'd like something based on Sage vs fem!supe! Maybe them arguing and then Homie forced to choose between one of them, but everything ending up with something unexpected! You choose what :)

Shattered glasses;

Pairing: Homelander x fem!super (I use Ophera bc I don't like writing ''y/n'' y'know) TW: slight angst, mention of poisoning, morally grey fem!supe Timeline: season 4 Words count: 2,7k Note: thanks for the request dear anon, I was waiting for writing something about s4 :) ofc no hate for any characters!!

Sister Sage never liked you. From the first moment she saw you, she knew you would be a hindrance. She's not jealous, not even in love with him, she just wanted to control Homelander, and you already had him in your grasp. But the little flaws in your absolutely not perfect relationship with him were the perfect opportunity for her to destroy you and get you fired.

For months she had been trying to make you look incompetent or unable to do your work, she was the smartest woman in the world, and in her eyes you were just another showgirl like the others.

But you were on the Seven from the early years and, oh, you didn't liked at all the fact that Homelander had chosen her as his advisor.

You, you are his partner, he should listen to you.

It has always been about control, rarely about love. But now you feel jealousy boiling in your veins, your control over him is slipping away, and you feel in danger. You know that you'll have to prove to Sage that it is not so easy to get rid of you.

Sister Sage sat comfortably at the table of the Seven, her hands folded in front of her, sipping a steaming cup of chamomile tea. With a delicate motion, she set the cup back down on its saucer, and flashed you a calm smile.

“I think you’re letting your emotions cloud your judgment. You’re making this personal. It’s simply business.”

She's too confident in her intellectual abilities, to the point of arrogance. She's good at reading people, especially their feelings and insecurities, and she uses that to her advantage in arguments, trying to make you say something stupid and make you look like a fool.

“You’ve had your chance at the top, dear. It’s time to accept that things have changed.”

You are standing, with your hands placed on the table, clenched into two fists to hold back your nervousness, looking for the right words to face her, but nothing comes out of your lips.

“Listen, I understand your… frustration. After all, you’re nothing more than a relic these days, don’t you think? A fading star.”

The words hit you like a blow to the gut. Her casual insults were like salt rubbed vigorously into an open wound. You fight back the urge to respond with anger, knowing that she's goading you into a reaction.

“Oh, I hit a nerve, didn’t I? That’s exactly what I meant. You’re stuck in the past. You can’t adjust to the changes. It’s kinda pathetic, really.”

You wanted nothing more than to reach across the table and wipe that arrogant smile off her face, but you knew that’s exactly what she wanted. So you took a deep breath, trying to maintain some semblance of composure.

“I suggest you think about your words better, the last person who dared to call me pathetic didn't end well.”

Sage raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

“You can try to intimidate me all you want, but it won’t change the fact that your time has passed. No matter what you do, you won't be able to get your spotlight back.”

“Dear, I fill the stadiums, the arenas, millions of people come to hear my voice every night, every single event is sold out in minutes! I wouldn't call this decay of a carreer.”

“Ah, yes, the fame and the adoration of the masses. Impressive, really. But I was referring to another type of spotlight here.”

She paused for a moment, studying your face before continuing. Your gaze has become dark, almost threatening, you know perfectly well where he wants his speech to end.

“We both know you lost your real spotlight a long time ago…the one that matters. Homelander won’t change his mind about me.”

Your expression betrays your emotions, anger and frustration bubbling just beneath the surface.

“You're playing a dangerous game Sage, you know that? You think you can just waltz in here and take my place?”

“Ophera, is it so hard to accept that I’m better equipped for the job? You’ve always been so blinded by your ego and your pride. Your strategy is always to stay safe and not lose your career, Vought needs much more than this.”

Her expression was cool and calculating, as If she had already mapped out every possible reaction you might have.

“And let's clarify, I don’t need to take your spot. I already have.”

Your face twisted in anger, your fists gripped the table’s edge, under your gloves knuckles turning white.

“You arrogant little—“ you began, but she calmly interrupted you.

“Now, now, there’s no need for insults.” she chided, her voice dripping with faux sweetness. “We’re adults here, we can speak calmly and intelligently like any normal person, don’t you agree?”

“You're feeling cool, mh? Acting all smart and knowing everything. I've been a part of this Seven for years. And you, you're nothing.”

Her cool demeanor began to crack, and a hint of annoyance flickered across her face at your words.

“Ah, here it goes. The same old tired argument. I've been here longer, I'm more experienced, blah blah blah.”

She leaned forward, her eyes boring into yours with an intensity that contradicted her calm exterior.

“Oh, did I hit a nerve?” you teased, mirroring her earlier taunt.

“Don't get too comfortable.” she retorted, her voice slightly sharpened. “You should remember that your position here is fragile. One wrong word, one wrong move, and you could lose everything you have left.“

You leaned forward now, your voice lowering as you met her gaze.

“You seem to forget that I’ve still a pretty big influence over Homelander myself. I can make things difficult for you if I want to.”

“I think we both know who he listens to these days.”

The conversation was cut short when the door to the room burst open, and Homelander strolled in, his presence immediately filling the space. His eyes flicked between the two of you, sensing the tension in the room.

“What's going on here?”

You and Sage both turned your attention to him, quickly composing yourselves.

“Just a chat. I was merely informing Ophera of some important developments within about the Vought future.”

Homelander glanced at you, tilting his head slightly as he observed.

“A chat, huh? Didn't look like a friendly one to me.”

“You're right. And since it's clear that Sage loves telling you lies, I'll tell you that wasn't just a simple chat.” an adorable, mischievous smile escapes from your lips. Exposing the little lie she told to him.

Homelander's eyes immediately landed on Sage, waiting for her to respond. “Care to explain?”

Sage shifted in her seat, clearly irritated that you had exposed her lie. “It's nothing serious, just a typical argument between colleagues. Nothing you need to worry about.” she replied quickly, trying to downplay the situation.

And incredibly, it works.

Homelander nods like a tamed puppy and believes her.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of frustration as Homelander seemed to buy into Sage's explanation so easily. It seemed like she had him wrapped around her little finger.

“I see, things like this happens, just keep it professional, ladies, okay?”

Sage shot you a quick, victorious look, smug knowing her sweet words to him had prevailed, again.

Disappointment flooding through your veins. It infuriated you how easily Homelander seemed to believe blindly in to Sage's words. You tried to maintain a neutral expression. But you won't have another opportunity like this to assert your dominance, you have to think of something quickly. Sage sure is smart, but you can be really sly.

You pretended to shrug nonchalantly, even though inside you were seething with anger. But you weren't done yet.

You locked eyes with Homelander, ensuring he was listening to you. And then you spoke, your voice dripping with feigned concern.

“It’s true, it wasn’t a big deal. But there’s one thing that concerns me, Homelander. May I be honest with you?”

He tilted his head slightly, curiosity piqued. “You've to.”

“I felt a bit insecure lately and I was wondering...If I should save Sage from poisoning or me from falling from a building. Who would you save?”

Your question comes like an unexpected bolt of lightning, without anyone being able to foresee it or understand its real intention. You cross your arms over your chest and walk around the room slowly, waiting for a response.

He's is taken aback by your question, and the room falls silent. Sage glanced at you quickly, an unexpected flicker of worry in her eyes.

Homelander's eyes follow you as you walk around the room. He's quiet for a few moments, considering the weight of your words before answering.

“Why should I choose, I can save both without effort, you know that.” he finally responds, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Your lips curled into a smirk - the answer is far from satisfactory.

“Of course, but let's say you can only choose one.” you persist, your voice steady. “Who would it be?”

His expression unreadable. He's definitely taken off guard by your insistence, and you can see a hint of annoyance starting to form underneath the surface.

“There are too many factors to consider, I can't just say one random name. Fuck, you and your stupid questions...”

Sage looks down at the cup of chamomile tea she was drinking a few minutes ago, and for a second the fear of having been poisoned actually makes her shiver.

“And that's why I'm here to listen all of your thoughts about.” you smile at him once again, hiding something dark behind your kind tone.

Homelander sighs, finally realizing you won’t back down. He crosses his arms, staring at you with slight irritation.

“Fine. Let's say, If I had to choose, I'd likely save Sage first.”

Sage's head snapped up upon hearing his decision, and her eyes widened in surprise. But you answer him carefully, still smiling.

“Are you sure about that?”

“I mean, you're more resistant than her, you wouldn't really die falling from a building. While Sage body is totally human, he would certainly die without an antidote for the poison.”

Your smirk widens, you expected this.

“There, happy now? I solve your fucking riddle.”

You quickly turn away from the conversation and casually walk over towards the large window you know is behind Sage's seat. Acting as if you were admiring the view outside, you casually reach for the handle and pull the window open. The wind that blows in is strong enough to be unexpected, the documents on the table rattle, and the curtains wave violently.

Sage's hand involuntarily releases her cup of tea, and as it hits the floor and the liquid splashes in her direction, a look of panic and realization flashed across her face.

She quickly rises from her seat, her body shaking subtly, trying to play it off as if it was just a simple accident. But anyone can see the flicker of panic behind her eyes. The liquid seeps into the carpet, staining it a dark brown.

“You— Ophera what have you done to my tea?!”

Homelander's eyes narrow, his attention suddenly diverted from the ongoing conversation.

You feign surprise, tilting your head to the side innocently. “Me? Nothing.”

“Bullshit!” Sage points a finger at you, a mixture of shock and fury on her face. She starts to feel strange, she feels dizzy and her legs are shaking.

You turn back to the large open window, the strong gust of wind causing your hair to flutter and the hem of your uniform too. As you look outside, you subtly step back, closer and closer to the edge, the tips of your feet barely holding onto the edge of the window frame.

“What the hell are you doing Ophera?” he say, his voice sharp. “Get away from the window, where has your fear of great heights gone?”

Your eyes flick toward Homelander, a sly smile playing on your lips as you continue to stand dangerously close to the open window, your words dripping with a hint of manipulation.

“Well, I guess now you finally have a real opportunity to choose, love.”

A moment of silence hangs in the air as they're taken off guard by your audacity. Suddenly, without any warning, you lean back, and with a graceful leap, you launch yourself out of the window.

Homelander's heart skips a beat.

“No…No, don't—” he exclaimed desperately, his body moving on instinct.

The wind immediately engulfs you as the ground rapidly comes closer and closer. You feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins, looking at the blue sky, the thrill of the freefall mixing with the intense rush of the air hitting your back.

In an instant, a blur of red and blue rushes towards you as Homelander flies out, he flies towards you at superhuman speed shattering the glass of the other windows. He moves closing the distance between you and him in mere seconds.

From the window, Sage leans out, looking at you both with disbelief. Her eyes widened, and her mouth hangs open, speechless at the turn of events.

Homelander catches you mid-air, wrapping his arms around you, the wind still rushes around you both. You can feel his hands shaking a bit as he holds you.

You look up at him, a cheeky smirk dancing on your lips. A breathless laugh escapes you, the adrenaline still pumping through your veins. Your heart pounds, and a sense of exhilaration washes over you. The suddenness of your action still hangs in the air, and his surprise is evident in his eyes.

“Ops, I guess you picked me.”

Homelander huffs, his grip on you slightly loosening, relaxing, floating in air with you. He shakes his head, relief and frustration clear on his face.

“You're out of your goddamn mind woman.”

“Maybe I am. But, at least you still care enough to save me.” you chuckle softly, enjoying the moment of his attention.

He rolls his eyes, but you can see a smile on his lips and he's slowly moving in the hair to coming back inside the Tower.

You reach out to caress his face gently, your touch tender against his skin. Your hand trail over his jaw, feeling the slight stubble beneath your fingertips. Your other hand still grips onto the fabric of his suit, holding onto him.

“Y'know...I thought Sage brainwashed you into choosing her over me, but I'm happy to see that's not the case.”

His expression softens a little, his eyes meeting yours.

“Believe me, I think she tried. But she didn’t brainwash me at all.” he grumbles, his voice low. “I’m not that easy to control. You should know that..”

“I know you're far from being easy to control. You’re too stubborn and prideful for that.”

He huffs again, with his bold smirk on his lips. “You’re quite stubborn too, maybe more than me. Just look at your little stunt back there.”

As he lands back inside the room with you in his arms, the scene is a little chaotic. He takes a moment to check you are okay, before his eyes land on Sage, who is now passed out on the floor.

“Was really necessary to poison her? Despite your jealousy he was an excellent strategy member to the team.” he say, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Relax. She's not dead. There wasn't a single drop of poison or anything in her tea.” you look down at Sage's unconscious body, lying motionless on the floor, and a small, satisfied smile lifts the corners of your lips.

“Then why the hell is she passed out?” he asks, puzzled.

You kneel down next to her and tilt your head to the side as you examine her unconscious form. The feeling of triumph washes over you, knowing that you managed to manipulate her fear and doubt to your advantage.

“With a brain like hers, mental deceptions are more effective than anything else. It was enough for me to convince her that she had been poisoned and goodnight little sunshine.”

He lets out a low whistle, impressed by the simplicity of your tactic.

“Damn. You really know how to mess with people's heads.”

There's admiration in his voice. An admiration for you that you can still wear like a medal.

“But you really had to prove a point in such a dramatic manner, huh?”

You stand back up, brushing off your uniform and looking at Homelander with a smug smile.

“I had to do something to prove to her, and you, who your favourite really was.”

-------

Hope you like it! I will calmly continue to write about him based on your ask box requests, I will not leave anyone unsatisfied, I promise <3

[minefield-of-a-ninja]

*image of Jensen Ackles is used with permission of the photographer Mandi Lea Photogtaphy.

Summary: After a significant career shift and subsequent break-up, Brandy Miller moves to Wayne County, Pennsylvania, to be closer to family. She invests in a small, sight-unseen condo in a “quiet, charming neighborhood with views of the Poconos and neighbors you can count on.” One particular neighbor seems to have a unique interpretation of what that means.

Characters: Soldier Boy (as BJ and Tripp) x OFC (Brandy Miller), Maggie Shaw, Annie January, Hughie Campbell, OFC (Amber Miller Brandy's sister), Serge Bernard (by phone), Kimiko Miyashiro (by text), Billy Butcher, MM, Homelander (as John James Davis SB’s 21yo son - very brief appearance); brief mentions of Black Noir (as Earving), Firecracker (as Misty Tucker Gray), and Stormfront/Liberty (as Klara Risinger)

Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, sexual tension, sexual objectification, rough and degrading sex dream, Soldier Boy is a terrible father, explicit sexual content, many and varied types of female orgasms including throat while giving head, emotional manipulation, drug use, narcissism

CHAPTER ONE: Inconsiderate Neighbor

CHAPTER TWO: Someone Loses a Bet

CHAPTER THREE: Coldest Night Of The Year

CHAPTER FOUR: Breath Play

CHAPTER FIVE: Too Deep by RITUAL, Delilah

CHAPTER SIX: In Vino Veritas

SPOTIFY PLAYLIST

"Smooth Sailing" by Queens of the Stone Age

"A Mistake" by Fiona Apple

"Ball and Biscuit" by The White Stripes

"Closer" by Kings of Leon

"Do I Wanna Know?" by Arctic Monkeys

"Beck + Call" by July Talk and Tanya Tagaq

"Need You Tonight" by INXS

"Hem of Your Garment" by CAKE

"Pepper" by Butthole Surfers

"I WANNA BE YOUR SLAVE" by Maneskin

"Too Deep" by RITUAL, Delilah

"Where Did You Sleep Last Night?" by Nirvana

"Low" by Cracker

"The Trick Is To Keep Breathing" by Garbage

"Get Gone" by Fiona Apple

"Glycerine" by Bush