#the boys tv x reader

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Homelander being obsessed with his sister HC II

Warnings: heavy siblingxsibling implications, Homelander being such a narcissist that he falls in "love" with his own sibling, dubcon, noncon, manipulation, stalking, basically all the horrible parts of HL come out to play, MC has blonde hair and blue eyes like HL, different plot than 'All I Ever Wanted, All I Ever Needed', kidnapping

I III IV V

Mother fucker would definitely find a way to lock you up in his personal apartment. It’s not easy to keep a supe that had the same powers as him as a captive. Through trial and error, Homelander would find a way to keep you hidden. His little secret

Has major mood change at work and a new skip in his step. All smiles and syrupy sweet voice.

Your parents and friends would go into immediate action to try and find you.

HL installs motion detector cameras throughout his apartment to keep an eye on you when he’s too far away. If anything happened, he knew he could be there in a flash

All day you were forced to wait for him until he got off of work (though does a hero ever really have time off?), like a pet. During that time all you could do was stare at the tv that HL had kindly turned on for you.

Of course you'd tried to escape in the beginning. But HL was faster than you.

Bored out of your mind from the constant stream of tv, you'd manage to wiggle over to the box that Homelander had shown you your first day there. You had time to really look at the contents though it was difficult without the free use of your hands. There were pictures of you as a little girl with your mom and dad. Lo and behold, you even found a picture of you on a young HL lap. Documents upon documents with Vought's stamp on them had you accepting the truth that HL was indeed your blood brother.

Homelander gives up trying to jog your memory once you inform him that you really don't remember much growing up. But you acknowledge him as being your sibling by blood.

"I believe you, but this doesn't condone kidnapping and keeping me here, Homelander." You countered, still not understanding why he went through all of this trouble. Just because you were his sister? That seemed too outrageous to you. Then again, you still didn't really know the real Homelander.

He corrects you. "John. You can call me John." He'd told you that several times but you just couldn't bring yourself to say such a simple name to this legend of a man.

Honestly, the whole abduction thing was a spur of the moment idea but once he found himself in the air with you in his arms, he made the decision that he was going to keep you to himself whether you liked it or not. That was the only way to make sure you wouldn't forget him again or leave him.

And some morbidly twisted feeling was growing inside of him every time he looked at you. You were perfect. Like he was. He talked himself into thinking that this was okay, that he was always meant for someone who was just as perfect as he was. And who better than you who has the same genetic mockup as he did.

He'd tell you all of this like it was the most simplest thing in the world. You gape at him in horror at his grotesque explanation.

Unnerve and discontent raised the hairs up on the back of your neck. What he'd said sounded a lot like him talking about incest. That roiled your stomach, making you feel sick.

He hated the fear he smelled on you in that moment, Homelander even pulls back from you and puts you at arm's length. You hate how he reduced you to someone so helpless. You also hate how much he really scares you.

Swallowing something thick in his throat, HL looks away from you with what you could only read as disgust. Maybe at you? Not for you though. For himself. He'd scared you and that was enough to shame him.

He'd mutter out an incredibly soft apology before leaving his apartment.

I'm thinking that as long as I have HC ideas of this, that I'll just be adding parts whenever the feeling strikes 🙂

[yesimwriting]

Importance

a/n i don't even feel the need to justify my taste in evil men anymore lmao, here's a drabble as i try to figure homelander's 'voice' :))

Summary: Homelander begins to reflect on your sort of friendship when you come over to watch a scary movie.

Warnings/info: me writing for a character for the first time so pls be nice

----

Humanity's connection to fear has always been a subject of fleeting interest to him, a concept that's only occasionally managed to become more than a shift of hormones and heart rate.

Now, though, with your legs pulled beneath you on his couch, body angled towards him, yet eyes still glued to the screen, Homelander can't believe he's never given this kind of adrenaline a second thought.

"You okay?"

The question seems to bring you back, your head turning towards him. "Yeah." What the response lacks in certainty, it makes up for in determination. He can see it in your soft nod, in the way your fingers press into your knees.

The nerves you're doing your very best to hide are so different from your usual demeanor. An investigative journalist who's always running headfirst into danger, who never lets fear of retaliation get in the way of your writing, can't get through a scary movie. It's such a prevalent dichotomy, Homelander has to work at keeping himself neutral, at remaining focused on what's in front of--

"Stop," you mumble, the word far from harsh.

He lifts a shoulder in a partial shrug without removing his arm from the back of the couch. "Stop what?"

You tilt your chin downwards, your lips pulled into the start of a pout as you attempt a glare. The expression is so particularly you, it briefly seizes some remote, unnamed aspect of his being that lives deep inside of his chest. "Stop making fun of me--I told you, horror movies make me so jumpy, none of my other friends will watch them with me anymore."

Other friends. The reminder of the others that get to be recipients of your kind smiles and reassuring glances is usually enough to taint his mood, but there's a warmth to the phrase that redeems the sentiment entirely. He's more than a friend, he's the only one that's here for you.

Homelander straightens slightly, arm shifting forward until his fingertips are against your shoulder. For the briefest second, there's an increase in your general tension, a stillness that doesn't suit you. The implication of tension digs at him--he's been this close to you before, closer even.

Before the thought of rejection can fully latch onto him, you're easing, spine relaxing against the couch's cushioning. The new position is enough encouragement for him to continue, his palm coming to rest against the fabric of your shirt, the loose collar letting the side of his hand feel the warmth of your bare collarbone.

He remains steady, leaning into what he knows as he offers you one of his more subtle, yet openly heroic smiles. It's the kind of look he'd use to comfort an almost-victim, the gentle curve of his lips a silent promise. I'm here. You're okay now.

You watch him in that way of yours--eyebrows drawn together and eyes bright yet not exactly admiring in the way that he's accustomed to. His inability to understand that particular look is what drew him to you in the first place.

"I'm not making fun of you," he says, voice leaving no room for argument, "I'm just making sure you're okay. It's why you wanted to watch this with me, right?"

It's not so much an exaggeration as it is a stretching of context. You had mentioned wanting to watch the movie, but not loving the idea of watching it by yourself. You hadn't meant anything by mentioning it during your coffee shop catch up, you never do. Your words are usually free of both probing and placating subtext.

"I wanted to watch this with you because we're friends." There's a genuineness to the correction that jabs at him. He has no response, but you don't seem to mind the silence.

A high pitched scream and a flash of color has your attention drifting towards the screen. Your adrenaline spikes, a fact you attempt to dismiss by leaning into his touch. "It's nice of you to check in, though."

The acceptance leaves him feeling a little warmer than he did a moment ago. You have a way of doing that. "It's what I'm here for."

You look away from the screen, the corner of your mouth tugging itself upwards. "All in a day's work for America's favorite hero."

"This is top priority."

You let out a breath that feels like more of a laugh. "I feel important."

The movie steals your focus, a fact that a part of Homelander is grateful for. You're too distracted to think of what contemplating your value might do to him. He swallows, a pointed dismissal of the uncomfortable feelings probing at his chest.

You move slowly, legs straightening and feet finding the floor. Before Homelander can overthink the changes, you lean towards him, your head coming to rest against his shoulder.

[cemeteryspider]

Oh No!

Warnings: Heavy Sibling x Sibling implications. HL is gross and has an odd obsession with himself which will be a part of the story a little bit going forward. There will be nothing explicit but for reference Reader-Insert is of age and I'm thinking mid-twenties and Homelander is a little bit older since I'm pretty sure his age is never stated in the show. If you are looking for a Homelander x Reader THIS IS NOT IT!!!

Summary: You attend and event and try your best to sabotage yourself, Homelander, and Vought in the process.

Trigger Warnings: Abuse, Violence, Mental Health Issues, Controlling Relationships, Gross Sibling Relationship

Word Count: 785

Weeks passed and slowly you started recognizing yourself in the mirror again. You started with the small things at first like the old lipstick you pushed to the back of your cosmetics drawer because John said it made you look like a cheap hooker. Or the perfume he said invaded his nostrils and made him want to laser his own brain.

Still it wasn't enough to satisfy your insatiable need to piss off your brother and Vought International. So, you went all out. 

For the premiere of some stupid movie or other you wore a sheer dress with black lace swirls that left little to the imagination. Tall golden heels and had your makeup done by someone who did professional pornstars makeup. It made your back straighten and a real smile across your face for what felt like the first time in an eternity. You felt nothing like yourself, but at the same time you looked nothing like the mannequin Vought often used you as.

You loved it and hated it at the sametime. Nothing was going to get in the way of your night of crossing the line out from under Homelander and Vought’s shadow. Vought would later call this "little stunt", "unbecoming of America's number 2 supe", but you didn't care anymore. So you kept going above and beyond the outfit and makeup, you played the part of a ditzy beautiful drunk. 

More importantly you were showing the world you weren't John's little toy to play with nor were Vought's puppet they could make dance. You were someone with thoughts and feelings, and you were going to make sure the world did not forget this.

That night you were all over the big wigs in Hollywood, constantly drinking different drinks from dirty martinis to fruity pink cocktails to Miller Lite to get a buzz that your powers constantly wanted to stamp out. Walking around the party wondering who you would walk up to next, the man in the burgundy suit or the woman with diamond studded earrings. You felt intrigued by these regular people only here because of their lined pockets, and wanted to be able to know them and what their normal lives were like.

Still you went on, laughing too loudly at jokes made by people who didn't like you because they didn't know you. Drinking anything offered by anyone with a tray and casually avoiding your brother who seemed to be tailing you waiting for the right time to stop you from ruining the empire he and Vought had delicately built.

"You know," You slurred to an attractive woman on the red carpet, "We could make out higher than Vought Tower after this. You'd just need to hold on tight."

Her face flushed and you giggled at her sweet tomato red face. Then you felt a rough hand grip your upper arm tightly, "I think it's time to go."

You tried to wrench your arm out of his grip but nothing was working. Short of an all out fight you were not going to be able to free yourself, so you let him drag you out, grabbing a delicate glass of champagne on the way out the back, and waving to the pretty girl you had been flirting with for the past few minutes. 

"What the fuck do you think your doing. You're slobbering over our stockholders," He whisper-shouted at you once he dragged you out outside of the event by the dumpsters, but you just let a grin split your face in two.

"This is me John! You're just upset because I know exactly what I want and exactly who I want to be and you're not a part of either of those things. How does that feel, John? Not even your own genetic equal wants anything to do with you!" You full on shouted at him. Part of you hoped that a journalist was on the other side of the door recording the whole thing but you couldn't hear a heartbeat.

"You're drunk, Y/n. I'm not having this conversation with you. You're never going to get anything better than this," He scoffed and gestured to himself and the door. At this point the strong drinks were wearing off and leaving your system to deal with reality as it was and the puny flute of champagne was not cutting it anymore.

"No, John, I'm not. I'm done with this and I'm not going to be Vought's machine pumping out propaganda and fake saves anymore," He laughed in your face.

"Good luck with that. You're nothing without me." He took the door back to the event and you started to walk away.

"Yeah I guess we'll see about that."

[dollerinna]

I WANT TO F**K YOU LIKE AN ANIMAL .

( black noir x fem supe!reader )

summary: the not-so-innocent things that go on in noir’s head abt you during The Seven meetings (wc: 1.8k)

warnings: MDNI, dub-con, rough p in v, doggy style, primal play themes, size kink, gagging, sobbing, corruption kink, Homelander being a weirdo at the end… just a lil’

first fic on this blog and I lowkey hate it- ughhh sorry if it’s all over the place!

The morning sun cast its golden glow upon the Manhattan skyline as The Seven assembled in their meeting room.

Homelander paced before them, detailing some new initiative he had conceived, but his words rang as emptily as the void behind his eyes. The Deep hung on his every syllable, eager as ever to prove his ass-kissing self with poorly-timed quips. This earned him nothing but a withering side-eye.

A-Train and Maeve listened with feigned interest, checking out of the conversation all but in body. Noir sat apart, idly fidgeting with a pen as his mind wandered. But his attention was drawn not to the usual faces, for there was a new supe among them—you, the latest fresh-faced recruit to their team.

On the surface, you appeared the absolute picture of attention—eyes forward, laser focused on Homelander as he tiresomely outlined the team's objectives.

It was cute, really, how focused the newbies always strived to be. Yet beneath the facade, you were actually anything but so, not when you felt an unseen gaze assessing you, weighing you.

Flicking your eyes discreetly aside, you confirmed a suspicion you could smell from miles away: Noir watching from across the table, his expression shrouded as ever behind the visor of his helmet.

Ugh, talk about creepy.

A subtle flutter of your eyelids shifted your line of sight, choosing to trust that his thousand-yard stare just so casually happen to drift your way and not an attempt to burn his gaze into your very soul.

Besides, what else could the guy possibly think about? Training, orders from Vought, simple pastimes—usually, such painfully mundane, run-of-the-mill thoughts occupied him.

But little did you know in this moment, as he studied your presence from afar, his mental reflections took a turn less… innocent.

─────────────────

“N-Noir… mmph-… please…”

It wasn’t his doing, he didn’t ask to be plagued with this sickly obsession; but every time he heard your voice, it was as if sweet, smooth-spun sugar had come alive.

An alien lust scorched Noir’s consciousness, catapulting his fevered mind into unfamiliar territory. Try as he might, he couldn’t shake the sinful thoughts that stubbornly stuck to him like glue. Just the mere notion of ever being responsible for those pretty little sounds was enough for arousal to creep through his veins like a nasty virus, sapping what was left of his crumbling self-control.

Your every whine, your every moan, would be a siren's call that beckoned him to claim you, to strip away your composure until you were utterly, helplessly his. All he craved was to watch the light in your eyes dwindle, to witness your breaths dampening into shallow puffs of air that blanketed your gaze in a veil of fog, gradually muffling you into a stillness even quieter than he was.

And truthfully, it wasn’t a matter of whether you liked it or not.

Noir would ensure his touch left no room for refusal, his grasp iron-hard as he positioned your trembling, naked body on the floor to his liking—face pinned down, ass arched up, just as it should be. Yet even as he held you fast with a palm braced against your sweat-slicked spine, his other hand moved with a surprising tenderness, gently teasing loose and brushing apart the knotted strands of hair clung to your ruddied features.

He imagined the merest of touches would set your blood aflame, rumbling up a ripe groan from your core. “…Oh m-my god… fuck…” words fled your mouth on airless breaths, nearly inaudible but still enough for him to catch. In response, he’d slowly lift a finger to your glistening lips, accompanied by a soundless ‘shh’—a signal for you to behave.

After all, good girls should never cuss.

Large, strong hands would then greedily paw at the lush fat of your ass cheeks, the scratchy textured fabric of his gloves leaving blooms of red across your flesh. Spreading you open, he’d admire the way your juicy, moist folds parted slightly, the aching emptiness within your entrance eliciting an involuntary clenching—your muted moans, trapped in your throat, acting as a wordless plea for more of his touch, more of him.

He liked to think you’d be mere putty in his hands, before he was even close to fucking you.

Noir would take his sweet time exploring you, his curiosity of the human form eclipsing the immediate need to quell a white-hot carnal desire every red-blooded man gets. He was good at rearranging people’s insides, literally, but what if he flipped the script in a much different way?

Experimentally, he’d run the very tip of his gloved finger along the weeping slit of your sex, ghosting ever so lightly over your swollen, hypersensitive clit to collect your slick arousal. Then, without warning, he’d dip an entire digit into your quivering depths, reveling in the way your spongy muscles squeezed and welcomed him in.

Your breath would hitch at the intrusion, skin prickling with a visceral need as you eagerly shoved your rear back against his palm, craving more. However, just as swiftly, he would withdraw his hand, bringing it close to his face to observe it covered in your juices, inspecting how the slimy, milky-white essence connected a trail between his fingers.

Who knew light fondling and agonizing silence was all the foreplay you needed? (or at least, in Noir’s fanciful pornographic depictions of you)

Once done playing with his food, he’d drag his knees closer to your body, his hips flush against your ass, leaving your peripheral vision filled with nothing but his imposing, darkly-clad figure dwarfing your own. Without hesitation, he’d reach down to remove the codpiece off him, freeing his hefty cock which sprang forth in the air, where it stood rock-hard, veiny, and impossibly large.

Wrapping a hand around himself, the thickly-roped, buzzing veins were betrayed by each gritty pull of his glove, drawing a guttural grunt from behind his balaclava. He’d guide his erection between your warm folds, the engorged ridge of his tip prodding against your bundle of nerves, sending electric jolts of pleasure to crackle through your core, before he began to sheathe himself inside you with a push that drove him home.

With a grip possessive and firm around your waist, Noir quickly fell into a steady, almost robotic rhythm of sturdy pushes and pulls. Each punishing collision of your bodies was answered by the lewd, rapid sounds of skin-on-skin, making damn sure you felt every single inch of him as he rutted into you like a man possessed.

He’d only hope to see you struggle taking him all in, envisioning how the sheer scale of his size forced the very air out from your gasping lungs.

“P-Please Noir!… ngh-… my body can’t handle this much,” your once-lovely voice now ragged and frail, scraping sobs grinding your vocal cords near silence as you churned and coiled like a fawn caught in the clutches of a big, bad wolf. “Be gentle, I’m begging you!—-” You choked out weakly, bordering on a soft, pitiful whine.

Expectantly, a weighted silence followed suit from Noir. In his typical, unsparing fashion, he slipped a glove from his hand, jamming it into your mouth and effectively gagging you into silence, as if to say—pipe down, be a good girl, and take my cock like you’re supposed to.

Even without a single word uttered by him, it worked like absolute fucking magic.

Your torso would practically collapse under the onslaught, wobbly limbs giving way as you let Noir use your arched up, offering form like a personal fleshlight. His hips would retract further back in an excruciating slowness, simply marveling at your wetness coating the base of his member like a second skin, only to slam back into you with raw vigor.

Your tight, gummy walls would be offered absolutely no time to adjust to the relentless invasion of his girth, the sheer thickness of his cock forcefully stretching out your cunt to shape him, to the point it felt like he was trying to split you into two.

He’d yank your flexing thighs back to meet his brutal series of thrusts, burying himself into you to the very tilt as the fleshy head of his cock kissed your cervix, igniting a searing white bolt of static to lance through your vision, momentarily fracturing it.

The all-consuming, dizzying sensation hit you like a ton of bricks, toppling your senses and wrenching a strangled sob out from your slack jaw once more. This earned you another biting touch from Noir’s thumbs pressed into your sides, as if seeking to wring every gasp out of your chest, to hear your moans rattle through your ribcage.

However even your rawest cries were swiftly muffled, swallowed by the balled-up glove shoved roughly between your teeth, which reduced you to nothing more than a gagging, pleasure-drunk whore for him to claim.

─────────────────

Meanwhile…

“Welp, that about covers it for today,” Homelander announced with a thunderous clap, loud enough for it to ring through Noir’s ears and bring him back to the present.

Slowly, Noir spun his head back towards Homelander, who had just finished addressing the team while his own thoughts drifted to places where even the pearly gates of heaven wouldn't give him the time of day.

“Now shoo- and no more sloppy behavior. I’ll be keeping an eye on each and every one of you.” Homelander dismissed them with a casual wave and a chuckle laced with another one of his thinly veiled threats.

As everyone, including little-miss-oblivious-you, got up to leave the meeting room, Homelander sauntered over to Noir, heartily slapping a heavy hand onto his back. “Earth to Noir! I know that look—thoughts a million miles away behind that sphinx-like mask of yours,” giving a sly little shrug, he slanted a meaningful look towards Noir’s codpiece. “But methinks, someone here isn’t as impenetrable as I thought…” A thin wry smile played his lips, a subtle hint at his x-ray vision allowing him to see a particular something-something of Noir’s that was currently just as hard as his body armor.

“It might do you good to line that suit with zinc. Wouldn't want any unwanted eyes peeking where they shouldn’t, do we?" An amused exhale, part sigh part snicker, slipped out of Homelander as his gaze swept over Noir once more.

True to form, all he received in turn was Noir’s standard muteness, as soundless as a grave.

Homelander eased the quiet with a huffed laugh, rocking back on his heels as he tilted his head in playful study of Noir. "But don't worry," he added with a knowing smirk, "it happens to the best of us. But do try to keep your head in the game! And not with your other one, ‘kay buddy?” Homelander jested in mock-reproach as he landed one last waggish, firm slap between Noir's shoulders, flashing his gleaming white yet eerily pointed grin.

Noir remained statue still, no hint of feeling betrayed by his rigid posture despite the toe-curling awkwardness of the encounter, or perhaps he'd yet to fully realize Homelander had peered within and seen his aching, raging hard-on behind the suit's facade.

Noir silently watched Homelander shoot two playful finger guns, his cape swirled shut behind him before leaving the room.

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Pssst- Likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated in this household and keep me motivated! <3

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Apologies if there are any grammatical errors here, cuz I’m alr so done with this fic 😭😭😭

[ml080504]

THEY COULD DO THAT TO ME ANY DAY AND I WOULD EVEN PAY THEM

[bananaminion678]

in public, in private, in the house, outside, back to back, face to face, mirrored, in the air, on land, at sea, while swimming, while drowning, mid eating, mid showering, in the mirror, at a bed, in the garden, in the kitchen, on the counter, on the sinn, on the fridge, at the kitchen table, in the living room, on the couch, on the arm chair, on the floor, at the sink, on the toilet…

ANYWHERE I AM YOURS !!!

[lovedeathalice]

no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponential, logarithmic, while i gasp for air, scream and see the light, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cow girl, doggy, backwards, forwards, sideways, upside down, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carried against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, the bed of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce house, in the pool, bent over, in the basement, against the window, have the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick throbbing, fist clenching, ear ringing, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffling, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, knuckles cracking, jaw dropping, hair pulling. teeth jitterbug, mind boggling, soul snatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy, moan inducing, heart wrenching, spine tingling, back breaking, atrocious, gushy, creamy, beastly, lip bitting, gravity defying, nail biting, sweaty, feet kicking, mind blowing, body shivering, orgasmic, bone breaking, world ending, black hole creating, universe destroying, devious, scrumptious, amazing, delightful, delectable, unbelievable, body numbing, bark worthy, can't walk, head nodding, soul evaporating, volcano erupting, sweat rolling, voice cracking, trembling, sheets soaked, hair drenched, flabbergasting, lip locking, skin peeling, eyelash removing, eye widening, pussy popping, nail scratching, back cuts, spectacular, brain cell desolving, hair ripping, show stopping, magnificent, unique, extraordinary, splendid, phenomenal, mouth foaming, heavenly, awakening, devils tangos, he could put a nuclear bomb inside me and I'd still ride. Morning, noon, and night, he can pump me full and turn me into his own personal Supe making factory

[obsessedwrhys]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The Seven x Deadpool!Reader

t/w: loooots of dark humour/jokes, reader is insensitive and an asshole since they're also a supe working at vought, your powers are the exact same as Deadpool (even the skin condition), mention about killing, death, gore, r-pe, n@zis?!?!, alcohol, some intimacy (?). Also reader is gn!!

ᯓ★ here's a version with the boys <3

HOMELANDER

This man hates you so fking much

Has tried to kill you multiple times, he tried lasering you, tearing you in half and even throwing you into the sky but you just always manage to come back like the damn plague

Eventually he gives up trying to kill you and just had to deal with the fact you'll be kept alive... just temporarily though... he's still looking for ways to kill you

However, your powers gave you dozens of advantages when around Homelander.

He can be having a meeting about something serious and everyone would be listening to him due to their fear towards him, then there's you who'd be doing your own thing and just shout out unrelated things like "Donald Trump just blocked me on Twitter!! HAH!! SUCK IT CORNFLACKS!!"

Everyone turning to you with startled expressions while Homelander simply rolls his eyes before continuing his presentation.

You are a complete nightmare to the PR team, that's why for interviews or any events, you'll always be paired up with Homelander so he can keep you under control and stop you from saying weird shit that could ruin the company's image.

"So Deadpool, how does it feel being in the Seven working alongside Homelander? You've been working together for almost 3 years now" A reporter would ask as you two are surrounded by screaming fans.

"Like I'm in the twilight series, not because of the fantasy but because I'm still waiting for the part where he impregnates me—"

"O-kay! That's enough, just silly ol' Deadpool with those inside jokes"

"You can tell in this eyes that he wants to fuck me right now. HE'S GONNA FUCK ME!!" You shouted as you're being dragged away by him.

Obviously when you had found out about his relationship with Stormfront, especially her background, you had to say some shit about it. Not giving the slightest care about the fact he could be grieving over her death.

He'll be in his room standing in front of the window and you'd just storm in, being as loud as possible.

"I can't believe you dated a N@zi!! Is it because I'm Jewish?!" Which may or may not be true, nobody knows your origin.

He may hate your guts but if he ever needs someone to help him do some dirty work, you're the person for the job, you never ask why or how, which could be the only thing he likes about you.

"Y'know, maybe if you didn't have such a big mouth, you'd be tolerable"

"All the people I've slept with have said otherwise"

Compatibility? 50%

STARLIGHT

Before she joined the Seven, she had an image of what kind of person you were, she just didn't know it was this worse.

When you found out she used to work at this Sunday School Church, you just haaaaad to say something about it.

"So like, you say that prayer always works, but every night I pray for my hair to grow and it never does. Do you think God has me blocked? How do I get unblock?"

"Uh..."

You two surprisingly get along without one wanting to slice the other's throat, except sometimes the things you say can really piss her off. Which is why when the company assigned her a new costume, she was trying her hardest to avoid you, but you found out anyways.

"Holy shit Starlight! Nice costume, is this your Miley Cyrus breakthrough? Girl power!"

Insert her groaning out of annoyance.

Again, the second you discovered she was dating a guy behind the death of Translucent, you were heartbroken :(

"Of course this happens right when my therapist gives up on me!"

Despite your behaviour, you pitied her when it was revealed that she was taken advantage of by The Deep, so like any good friend, you took revenge by cooking his friend octopus and eating it happily in front of him.

"Revenge does taste sweet" You'd say happily while Starlight just watches by the side, both grateful and horrified at your actions.

In my opinion, you would definitely be the person she goes to once she starts working with the boys, you'll always be providing whatever information that happens in the company for her to use.

It helps her worry less about getting anyone killed 'cause you literally can't die.

Compatibility? 60%

QUEEN MAEVE

You're half the reason why she rethinks about her life choices when she wakes up in the morning

Not because you're a handful (which you are) but because you're always paired together on missions

"Deadpool! The hostages!"

"OKAY! God... you act just like my drunk uncle"

Which is a joke/nickname you like to address her by because of her alcoholism (yikes)

Whenever the company needs you for something, half of the time she's the one assigned to search for you.

There was this one time she caught you trying to have Anika track down Kanye West's location, nobody knows what shenanigans you were up to.

Another thing to mention was that you two were chosen by the company to sing a Christmas song for the year's Christmas ceremony.

Just imagine during the bridge of the song, she's singing normally while you're completely going off, your high note so high you were sure you had Mariah Carey a run for her money.

Even though she finds you a lot to deal with, you're actually her buddy to train with.

Since you're very skilled with Katanas, she likes to practice her swordsmanship with you.

You like to tease or make fun of her everytime she fails to strike you which is good motivation for her to get better. Maybe you guys bring out the best of each other?

Last thing I'd like to add is when she was found out by the public that she was a lesbian (She's bi but you get the running joke), you had gifted her a t-shirt that says, 'Biggest Dick in Town'

Compatibility? 80%

THE DEEP

Your human punching bag

If Vought was a high school instead of a company, you'd be the bully and he'd be the nerd getting stuffed inside the locker room.

For example, Homelander could be confronting Starlight about her relationship with Hughie and everyone would just start raising their voices til you come in yelling "SHUT UP!" to the Deep who had not said a single thing during the entire time.

Just imagine him staring at you like 😐

To be honest you also ate his friend octopus so you guys are actually never getting the chance to make up.

"Look dude, I don't appreciate your tone"

"I don't appreciate your haircut either but we can't all get what we want"

You may be a crazy person but you weren't going to be okay with the fact he violates every woman he sees, so not only did you cook the octopus but you also called in a male stripper disguised as a woman just for him to celebrate on his birthday.

Just imagine him all happy when you tell him the news and later that night he'll run inside your room, completely pissed off at your act after finding out but you just laughed and said.

"Happy April Fools 😚!"

"That's next month dipshit!"

Also, you never understood his weird fantasies. He has a thing for sea animals??You've caught him multiple times either flirting or getting off to one. It was concerning even for you.

"From how many animals you've fucked, you might just turn from the ocean's 'Seaman' to 'Semen'." You joked which he did not find funny.

Maybe you messing with him could just be your way of getting along with him since you're the same with everybody else, it's just he has more flaws to poke fun of and he's sensitive about them.

Compatibility? 5%

A-Train

He thinks you're fucked up in the head.

Half of the shit that comes out of your mouth just has him reacting like in the GIF

Buuuuuut you're the one he always brings to the club because you always know ways to give the party life.

You've somehow even got on the wall of fame, a lovely portrait of you with your hands making out a heart.

Also, you know about his business with Compound V waaaaay before anyone else did. He's still grateful you didn't tell anyone.

Just like everyone else, you also enjoy messing with him except he's fast and constantly avoiding you.

"Hey A-Train, how much do you wanna bet that I can die faster than you?"

"Dude... seriously?"

You guys rarely get sent on missions together because you're always slowing him down, not basing off the fact he's fast but because you get easily sidetracked with other things.

"Alright, we're here now, how much C4 do we use?"

"Fuck math! Let's use all of 'em!"

You ended up detonating all of the C4 on you before he could object the idea, he was able to run out in time, your action nearly getting him killed while you ended up dead.

But it's fine you'll just grow back.

You know that race he has against Shockwave? You'd be at the VIP section standing near where Homelander and Queen Maeve is, waving your huge banner that has a picture of A-Train's face and yours pasted over a figure carrying the other in bridal style.

Compatibility? 55%

TRANSLUCENT

He makes people paranoid but you make him disgusted.

There was this one time he was bored so he snuck in your room to see what you were doing.

At first he was confused why you had so many cute plushies but then the more he explored your room, he realised your room is basically every collector's dream.

You even had a huge teddy bear in the corner of your dressing room.

The reason why he doesn't like to spy on you is because the last time he did, he saw you putting your hand in the blender, then proceeding to put your private part into it.

Never again, he thought, never again.

He doesn't need to witness you carry out your intrusive thoughts.

Surprising enough, you're close with his son, I'd like to think that after his death, you practically became the kid's godparent. Though you can be sort of a bad influence, leading up to how he is in Gen V.

You always tell him you hate kids but he thinks otherwise.

After all, he can read people well.

You guys like to pull pranks on each other since you guys like competing on who's more sneaky

There was this one time, you woke up to find your suit gone so you ended up walking around the building, completely naked and unfazed by people's stares.

It was when you walked around the corner that you found your suit worn by someone else, turns out it was Translucent under it.

"Why is it so fucking tight dude? How do you stay in this shit all day?"

"You get used to it"

Compatibility? 85%

BLACK NOIR

Lovers.

He doesn't mind your attitude because he actually can't say anything about it.

No seriously... he can't talk.

But hey he's got a good shoulder to cry on.

"I just... hffgh... I can't believe my album didn't surpass lady gaga's... She doesn't even know how to use Katanas like I do!" You'd let out a loud sob while he just stares at you for a while before placing a hand on your shoulder, patting you gently.

You know the scene where he's playing the piano for one of the company's party? You'll be laying down on top of it and singing in your usual overdramatic high pitched voice.

He finds your humour amusing so he always does this little head tilt like in the GIF when you say some weird shit while waiting for his response.

Since both of you are the only members of the Seven that wears a full body suit, obviously you had to try on his but since it was impossible to achieve that, you just had the company make a copy for you.

He'll be walking down the hallway doing his normal routine until he notises another person in his suit, the moment you speak and he realises its just you is when he let's his guard down.

"I just got some transplants done to my ass, that's why I look different"

You both are never sent on missions together 'cause you guys don't work well, pretty much nobody works well with him since he's the silent type.

Example, you two were hiding behind some crates ready to jump on the bad guys who were snucking in illegal drugs. He gestured for you to wait as he went to check again, only to turn back to see you gone.

"Marry Christmas motherfuckers!"

He heard your voice shout and he found you standing on top of the stacked crates, machine gun in hand and began shooting aimlessly.

He didn't even do anything but just watch until you ran out of bullets. However, multiple survived and began shooting at you so you ended running towards where he's hiding at.

"Yankee yankee!" You yelped.

You know the video of the two girls taking off their wigs to reveal that they're bald and they start bonding over it? I'd like to imagine that's you and Black Noir with the skin condition under the suits.

One more scenario I wanna add, you guys could be having a meeting but since you were bored and you always hated meetings, you'd draw a big heart on a piece of paper and show it to Black Noir from across the table. Surprisingly he'd draw a heart back to you.

You were overjoyed so you began to draw you and him doing it, doggy style. He stares at your doodle for a while before choosing to just focus on the meeting instead.

Compatibility? 90%

(This took a while cause I was on vacation)

[thesilmarillionblog]

𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒

Summary: Though you don't really want to, Butcher persuades you to fuck Soldier Boy in front of him since he believes that your relationship is becoming duller by the day.

Pairing: Soldier Boy, Billy Butcher / Reader

Warnings: Dark Fiction!, +18! (MINORS DNI), smut, dirty talk, threesome, rough Soldier Boy, Butcher is a manipulative boyfriend , hair pulling, breath playing, kinda forced, established relationship, forced oral sex, multiple orgasms, reader is manipulated, overstimulation, porn without plot, a plot twist in the end

Word Count: 2709

A/N: English is not my first language.

This is for @anundyingfidelity. I love you and your stories, bestie.

You let out a loud gasp as you locked your legs around Butcher's hips, squeezing him till he hit your most sensitive spots. 

Sucking his lower lip, you used one hand to brush his thick beard and the other to nail his back in an attempt to stop yourself from moaning. 

"Don't hold yourself back, love," he smirked at you. Let me listen to those lovely sounds. You are free to be as noisy as you would like to."

You questioned, "What if he's listening?" and gasped softly as Butcher tightly gripped your nipple and squeezed one of your tits, causing you to scream.

He continued, firmly thrusting his cock inside your pussy, “Are you afraid he's jerking off right now to your moanings? He better be.”

You cried out, “Don't say such things,” as he began to fuck into you more and more inside of you. 

He spit in his palm and began to stroke your clit, muttering, “Why? Imagine him jerking off while watching us, getting hard watching your cunt railed by me.” 

“Screw you, Butcher. Shut up,” you said, hitting him fiercely on the shoulder as he attempted to make you scream once again. 

“The thought of you looking like this fucking drives me on so much. Are you okay with him watching us? Do you want to see your pussy full of my jizz as he watches you being fucked and cum in his hands? He must be beating his cock right now, hearing me filling your tight cunt.”

“No,” you said as you raised your hips in an attempt to match his tremendous rhythm. When he spoke to you in that manner, it was difficult to get off. “Cut it, Butcher.”

Despite your constant statements that you weren't into that kind of thing, Butcher was becoming more and more brutal with each stroke. This put your relationship on the brink, but you still cared deeply for him and found it difficult to please him at times, which left you feeling quite exhausted. 

Butcher roared, “Fuck, yes,” slowing down to take his time and enjoy the twisted moment. “Maybe I should let him watch next time or even join; let him fuck you raw.”

You managed to say, “I don't like it when you talk this way,” in between his embarrassing words. 

“Your body seems to like it, though,” Butcher remarked slyly. “Right now, your pussy clenches around my cock so well. Are you okay with him fucking you?”

“No,” you said, your eyes welling up with tears from his powerful hits, which were both pleasurable and painful. Even though you were so close, he was taking his time to enrage you. “All I want is you. The only person I want to fuck is you.”

Butcher turned you, pressing your face into the covers with a roar. You forced yourself to look away as he continued talking about really obscene things and becoming lost in his own fantasies, but his hand stopped you from speaking. 

“I'm going to let him fuck you and rail your tight cunt till he fills your pussy up, until you are ready for me to be filled. Is it okay if he spills inside your pussy? Would you rather be fucked by someone else in front of your boyfriend?”

His hand over your mouth prevented you from denying it and telling him to stop talking. Your eyes welled up with tears as you continued to scream into his palm as he began to pound into you quickly and violently. While your other hand was firmly gripping the sheets beneath you, you tried to get him to relax by holding his palm to your mouth, but he pressed it even harder. You were really close. 

“See your pussy's reaction to me. You need another cock so much. My girlfriend is such a big slut; I didn't know that.”

This time, Butcher moved his hand away from your lips and gave you a hard spanking on your ass cheek, nearly causing you to shout out in agony and pleasure. You moaned, “Please,” not really comprehending what you were pleading for. 

“Please what?” Excited, Butcher asked. He continued to stroke his cock inside of you while gathering and pulling your hair. “Tell me you want to be fucked by him. How much do you want to be fucked by him, huh? Imagine Soldier Boy sucking your cunt.”

With one forceful stroke, Butcher slammed his cock into your pussy just as you tightened around it, roaring as he began to come inside of you. You finally clutched around his cock, moaning as your orgasm hit strong because his triggered yours. 

“Fuck, love. That was good,” Butcher remarked, grunting as he removed his softened cock from your pussy. 

Your cheeks reddened as you straightened your skirt, pulling up your underwear and giving him a furious look. “You know I don't like it when you talk about threesomes or anything related.”

He murmured, “Come on,” embracing you in his arms as he lit a cigarette. “We haven't been together for fucking two years, and you're not interested in trying anything new. You are aware that our relationship is currently becoming a little monotonous.”

You questioned with shock and disgust, “Boring? We love each other. Is this not enough?”

“Love can't solve everything out, my dear.” Butcher planted a firmly planted kiss on your lips. “You need to be receptive to new ideas. You know, I wasn't aware that you were so old-fashioned-minded.”

You refused, blushing with shame. “I'm not,” you said. “But what if it ruins our relationship?”

“It fucking won't,” he murmured, running his fingers over your tender spot. “It will make our relationship even better than before.”

You asked, hoping that at some point he would change his mind because it was twisted as fuck and you didn't want another man to touch you: “Do you really want to watch me getting fucked by someone else though?” Not Soldier Boy, in particular.

“Is it not evident? I want to jerk off and watch your gorgeous pussy get filled up with another man's sperm while you scream and get fucked hard.” 

You sighed and reluctantly replied, “Okay.” A grin appeared on Butcher's face. He was shocked to see that, after weeks of trying, you were finally saying yes. “So be it.” 

A week later, with just the three of you living in the house, Butcher was fucking you with his fingers when Soldier Boy burst through the door, smoking some weed. 

When your eyes met his green ones, you wanted to press your knees together, but Butcher grabbed you firmly and murmured, “Don't be shy, relax,” as if it were natural and not at all awkward. 

Before giving you a sly grin, Soldier Boy sat on the closest chair and smelled the white from the desk in front of him. 

You made an effort to clear your head and concentrate just on the pleasure. You moaned in protest when Butcher stopped, leaving you on edge, just as your walls were about to tighten. 

He noticed and then said, “You're ready now,” whispering to your lips as Soldier Boy removed his shirt, his broad muscles in sight. 

After Butcher kissed you firmly, you put your knees together and sat in the chair that was very next to the bed, feeling a little uneasy. 

Soldier Boy whispered, “Let's see what your little girlfriend is capable of.” He worked his cock and pulled down his sweatpants. “Come here.”

He moved your body on the bed before you could respond, put his hand behind your back, and brought his cock to your lips. You assumed it would be limited to simple fucking. In your lengthy partnership, even Butcher had only ever fucked your mouth two or three times. Now, a stranger who you had never even fucked before was going to make you suck him. 

Before you could say anything, he slipped his cock between your lips, and your pulse was pounding in your chest. You gagged strongly, pressing your hands across his thighs to make him slow down. 

With a deep voice, Butcher said, “Suck him good,” stroking himself as he watched your eyes well up with tears from being fucked on the mouth. 

Soldier Boy moaned, “Use that mouth better,” and forcefully pressed his cock to your throat. It was difficult to swallow everything because it was so much larger than Butcher's. 

His hand stoked your hair as you palmed his testicles and squeezed him, all while using your tongue to satiate him and get him to release his grip. 

When you began to use your tongue and hands simultaneously, he groaned loudly. "Look at her eagerness. Desperately trying to make me cum in her mouth like a bitch.”

He halted your motion, grasped his shaft, and fixed your head in position. His precum was dripping from the tip, and his thumb hovered over the head of the cock. 

This time, he said, “Suck the head,” pressing the head between your lips once more. “Look at me.”

His salty precum covered your tongue as you sucked the head off his shaft and took a look at him. It tasted nasty and salty. similar to Butcher's. 

As he watched you suck Soldier Boy's hardness, Butcher remarked, “Fuck, you are so hot like this, baby,” and continued to stroke his dick. 

“Fuck, I'm about to cum; don't you fucking stop.” With a moan, Soldier Boy kept your head still. 

When he told you he was getting close, you attempted to back off. After all, you've never been fond of the taste of sperm. 

Butcher remarked with a cunning smirk, “She doesn't like it to be spilled in her throat. You may, however, spill over her face. She finds it more appealing.”

“Do you take permission when you fuck her mouth and are about to cum?” With a single, hard thrust, Soldier Boy laughed and plunged his cock deep into your throat. His legs continued to push against your hands, which were trying to stop him before he reached your mouth, and your eyes began to well up with tears. “Relax your throat or it will be harder for you.”

When he groaned and began to fuck into your mouth, pushing it all the way down and spilling, filling your lips with his thick, white ropes, you kept moaning in fear. “Swallow it all.”

“Yes, fuck,” Butcher groaned out. "You're so fucking hot like this. Allow him to fill that lovely mouth."

You followed his instructions, and when he finished spitting inside your throat and you gasped, he pulled his cock out of your lips.

Soldier Boy pushed you to the bed and stated, “Not bad, but it can be better,” preventing you from catching some air.

He immediately inserted two fingers into your pussy and groaned, “Fucking slut. You are very wet. Look at you. Is it pleasant to get face-fucked by someone else in front of the one you love?”

“No,” you replied, trying not to break down too soon and astonished at how already wet you were. You were incredibly close. 

“You adored it to the hilt. Perhaps you enjoy being forced? Did you enjoy being dominated?”

This time, you didn't respond, and as you rode your climax, your walls constricted around his fingers, causing your lips to separate in pleasure. You moaned so loudly that it caused Butcher to experience an orgasm as well. 

“Fuck, sweetie.” He said, “I knew you would like it,” as he approached you and observed Soldier Boy continuing to finger your pussy. You wanted him to slow down, but he kept forcing his fingers inside, even though you felt oversensitive and your legs were shaking. 

With a “Now it's time for real fuck,” Soldier Boy turned to face you and gave you a spank to your ass behind you. 

Soldier Boy moved behind you, pumping his hardness a little harder, and Butcher took himself in hand again.

When Soldier Boy shoved his cock inside and Butcher groaned, “Look at me when he fucks you,” you closed your eyes. 

When you opened your eyes, you saw him stroking himself while he watched you get railed by another man.

You were momentarily out of breath when Soldier Boy began to fuck you raw and hard while holding your hips tightly. His balls were slamming against your clit and making nasty noises while he was hissing behind you. You bit your lip to stop yourself from moaning, but as soon as he began to quickly stroke your most sensitive area, you began to scream with both pleasure and pain.

Soldier Boy growled, “You fucking shameless slut,” and he hurried to get behind you. “Look at your guy as he takes himself in hand while I'm giving you a raw fuck. You enjoy being taken on by a stranger so much, don't you? You tightly clasp around me. Fuck it. From now on, I will fuck you every day.”

He forced your head into the covers, causing you to gasp for air while he continued to pound into you. You tried to get a breath, but you were powerless against his strong grip. 

He grinned and added, “Cum around my cock or I'm not going to let you go. Cum around my cock while your boyfriend watches you getting railed.”

You clenched around him, desperate for air, and with a silent groan, you stepped around him. His strong hands made you tremble, and your climax lingered longer than expected, much to your surprise. 

“This is how you fuck your woman,” Soldier Boy declared. “By stopping fucking taking permissions and giving what her slut body needed.”

Butcher got to the bed with a roar, and you found yourself on top of him. “Come here, baby.”

Your eyes widened in horror as Butcher shoved his cock inside your pussy while Soldier Boy was still inside of you. You trembled and whispered, “It's not possible.”

Your ass got spanked by Soldier Boy, who moaned, “Fucking shut up.”

You clasped your hands around Butcher's arms and screamed as their huge cocks were shoved in your pussy. 

“You're so gorgeous like this, taking our cocks so good,” Butcher murmured when he simultaneously began to fuck you and so did Soldier Boy. 

To press your pained moans, you started to kiss Butcher while Soldier Boy kept soaking and insulting you as he fucked you from behind.

“Such sluts like you have to be fucked exactly like this. For you, one cock is never enough. See your body's reaction when you take two dicks at once. You're encircling me with clamps and fucking leaking.”

Butcher moaned, “Keep going,” as he gave you short, hard strokes. 

Soldier Boy muttered, “Gonna fill you up, baby,” and gently bit your neck while speaking in your ear. 

Soldier Boy moaned as he fucked you with Butcher, and with one last blow, he began to spill inside of you, causing Butcher to have another orgasm. This continued until Soldier Boy humiliated you with words in every way possible. 

With a loud gasp, you clamped around Butcher and continued to kiss him passionately. 

Soldier Boy moaned, “Oh fuck,” as he continued to spill his thick white ropes inside of you and kissed the back of your neck firmly.

Check my MASTERLIST for more!

Turning your back to him, you kissed him on the lips passionately and said, “That was so good, baby.”

[carpenterswife]

HALF OF ME (iv)

SUMMARY: With Soldier Boy alive in the 2020’s, back in America, he starts his mission of vengeance. Of course, his first stop is to you; the only woman he’d truly wanted to start a relationship with, who’d taken his spot only months after his supposed death. And you don’t exactly expect your old lover to appear in your home, with the intent to kill.

WORD COUNT: 2238

WARNINGS: MINORS DNI. Typical Soldier Boy behaviour, gore, heavy violence, canon divergence.

SERIES MASTERLIST / MAIN MASTERLIST

Finding you was difficult. They were beginning to think Ben had been wrong, that you were six foot under in some unlabelled grave, rotting away. But, Ben was sure. And arguing with him seemed like signing their death warrant.

So, they kept searching. Despite the fact they could have located at least two other Payback members, and had them dead, by now, Ben was insistent on killing you first.

So, they kept fucking searching.

And then they found it.

It was a tiny discrepancy. Something most people would simply brush past. But, Hughie found it, and it was all they needed. They followed the rabbit hole, down and down, finding hidden documents and details not even Ben knew about.

It only took two days to pinpoint your location.

The Appalachian Mountains. In the middle of fucking nowhere. Smack-bang in the middle of one of the largest forests in the entire USA. But, to Ben, that fact was whatever. He had your location. And he was going to find you, even if it meant spending weeks searching every inch of that forest.

Butcher and Hughie knew it was a dumb idea.

But, they got Ben in a car, and started their roadtrip.

━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━

The quiet life was nice, you’d decided. You’d forgotten about Queen Maeve’s uninvited visit, going back to your routine of feeding the animals and drinking coffee on the balcony every morning.

It was weird. You used to be one of the most famous people on the planet. There was blood staining every inch of your hands, and families who were likely still trying to gain justice for the people you killed. You had decades of history. And, yet, you now lived out your days as some sort of Disney princess.

You couldn’t complain. It was better than willingly running into gunfire every week.

Padding through your dark home, the moonlight casting a soft glow over the floors, you headed for the kitchen. You were never too old for a midnight snack. Especially in the comfort of your own home. You turned into the kitchen.

And you saw it. A dark figure, shadowed in the corner.

But, you kept moving, playing oblivious. In your mind, your old training make itself own. Ben’s critiques and advice played like a movie, as you pulled the cabinet open, standing high on your toes to reach for packet of chips. Your senses were on fire, focused in on the quiet breaths, the soft squeaking of boots on the tile.

They moved, and so did you.

You ducked under the fist swinging towards your face, snatching a knife from the block beside the fridge. Holding it tightly in your fist, your stance ready to attack, you looked at the intruder. Every muscle in your body froze.

“Ben?”

He didn’t pull his punches. Ben grabbed you by the throat, using your momentary distraction to his advantage, shoving your back against the sharp edge of the counter. Instinctively, you swiped the knife towards him, but a rough hand caught your wrist, slamming it down onto the counter.

A cry of pain slipped past your lips, fingers releasing the knife. It was his turn to grab it, tossing it from your reach.

No words were spoken, just heavy breathing.

You’d never seen Ben look at you like this before. This look was reserved for those who got on the wrong side of him. Those who disappeared mysteriously overnight and were never found again — but you knew what happened. And so did he.

He was here to kill you.

“Ben—“ You choked out, through the tightening grip his hand had around your throat. The grip tightened, and your breath caught with a squeak, broken gasps for air trying desperately to pull in oxygen.

“How much did they pay you?” He demanded, his voice low and gravelly. “Huh? How much, did they fucking pay you?” There was something about him that was so different. A new edge to him, maybe. But, what caught your attention, was the look in his eyes.

Hurt. He was staring at you like you’d ripped his heart from his chest and stomped on it.

You clawed at his wrist, unable to bring any air into your lungs. Your nails bit into his skin, the scratches down his wrist quickly repairing themselves. He let you go. Not out of mercy. No. He grabbed your collar, lifting your head up, and then slamming it down onto the counter.

Your vision went completely white, all remaining breath knocked from your lungs with a gasp. Blinking desperately to clear the stars, you tried to struggle. But, he slammed you down again. And again. And again. Until he tossed you to the floor like nothing more than a rag doll.

The counter was cracked from the force of it, blood staining the white marble, and splattered across the counter. Your own kitchen. Stained with your blood. You could feel the warm liquid dripping down the back of your head, matting in your hair.

If you weren’t a supe, you’d be dead.

He didn’t let you get a word in, brutal with each of his attacks. As you desperately tried to scramble away, body on fire, he put his foot down on your ankle. Leaning down, staring intently at you, with dark eyes, Ben snarled. “How much?”

“Ben—“ Finally, words escaped. In a pathetic whimper that made his lips twitch in disgust. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Your breath hitched with pain.

That answer wasn’t good enough for him. You swore you could feel the bones in your jaw crack, as his fist met your cheek. You cried out in pain, the force of the impact whipping you around, hitting your head against the ground.

His hand curled into your hair, forcing your eyes on him. “Don’t fucking lie to me, you bitch.” Your breaths were ragged, with pain and terror, staring up at the man you thought was dead. He seethed, nothing but anger and disgust (and hurt?) in his green eyes. “You whored yourself out to me, huh? Put my dick in your mouth? For what? Fuckin’ soften me up like a weak pussy?”

“Ben—“

“Don’t.” He tugged your hair, hard. “I loved you.” His teeth grit together.

Your heart broke, tears in your eyes as you stared up at him. He loved you. And he thought you’d hurt him? He was dead. He was dead. That’s what they said. They said he was dead. Your mind worked at 100 miles an hour, heart constricting.

He loved you.

Soldier Boy loved you.

You didn’t even think he was capable of that. Sure, you knew you had something special with him, something unique. But love? It’d never crossed your mind. You’d always loved him somewhat, always throwing yourself in front of bullets and danger to protect him. Always following his lead and teasing him.

Always pushing your luck with his temper. Because he never snapped. He never hurt you. He never hit you. You knew you’d loved him, when your heart would dance when he chuckled at your jokes. The way your body reacted to his hands on your hips during your first training session. You knew there was something. But, for sure, you thought it was one-sided.

That, to him, you were a good fuck. Just a hole, as he liked to say about some women.

But, you’d been so wrong. And, all this time, 37 years, he’d been alive. And you’d done nothing.

“I loved you.” He repeated, in a broken seethe. His eyes were less angry now, but still held that hint of vengeance. “I would’ve died for you.” You could’ve sobbed, right there. “We were gonna start a family.”

Your voice was shaky. “Ben. Please. I don’t know what’s going on.” You begged, pathetic and weak. Ben scoffed, emotional. “I thought you were dead. I swear it, Ben!” It was practically a plea; a desperate cry for him to believe you.

He was too blinded by his rage. “I waited every day for you.” He hissed, reaching over and grabbing his discarded shield. “For you to come and get me. To save me. You never came.”

“Ben—“

He shoved you down, head slamming against tile once more. Knees on other side of your hips, Ben gripped the edge of his shield, raising it high.

He was going to kill you. You couldn’t stop him. Couldn’t fight it. All you could do was look at him, tears running tracks through the blood on your face. A silent plea, begging him to not do this.

He rose the shield higher, lined up with the juncture of your throat.

And then he saw it. A glint of metal peeking out from under your shirt. He could recognise them from a mile away. They were his, after all. His dog tags, sat delicately just above your chest, resting on the skin like they were made to be there. His brows furrowed, movements faltering.

His dog tags. You were wearing his dog tags.

Ben hesitated, unsure.

He looked down at you, meeting your teary eyes, and his brain ran wild. Of memories of being a couple. Of the memories of when a big question mark had hung above your relationship, neither of you sure of what was going on, but treating each other like lovers anyway.

Your soft touches; the way your fingers would trace the contours of his muscles in the morning. The way you’d kiss each of his scars, muttering against his skin how perfect he was, despite the flaws and the imperfections littering his body. How gentle you were. He’d never felt a gentle touch before you.

How you’d giggle at his jokes, smile blinding, pretty dimples, cheeks flushed.

God, and those eyes. How they’d shine and shimmer when you looked up at him, like he was made of the stars themselves. He always used to melt when you propped your chin on his chest in bed, looking at him with that cute smile, and he’d trace your face with his thumb, cradling your cheeks like delicate glass.

Those few nights spent together, in the limited time you’d had together as an actual couple. The way you’d move together; perfectly in sync, like you were made for each other.

The way you’d hold him. Laugh with him. Smile at him. The passing touches. The lingering stares across red carpets and events, subtly checking each other out, and then meeting up in the supply closet. The quiet moments together, cooking dinner or merely holding each other. All those times you forced him to dance, and he’d begrudgingly spin you in the kitchen. The dates, and the movie nights, and the silly fights, and how warm his cold penthouse felt when you were with him.

Every memory, every moment, replayed in front of his eyes, as he stared at you. He lost his breath, muscles stiff. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t bring this shield down and kill you. His chest ached and burnt.

He couldn’t kill you.

So, instead, he hit the blunt edge of shield against your head, and watched your eyes roll back.

━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━

Coming to was disorientating and painful.

Every inch of your body ached, from the beating you’d received from Ben. You cringed as the light made the throbbing in your head intensify. Through squinted eyes, you made out the sight in front of you.

You were in your dining room. And there were two… unfamiliar men stood by your table, leaning over files and papers. Movement caught your attention.

Ben. Setting his shield down by the table.

“Ben.” You choked out, instinctively trying to reach out and grab him. To check if he was real. If he was actually stood in front you. Living, breathing. Your hands didn’t move. You looked down, frowning at the sight of tattered rope tying your wrists of the arms of your chair.

The noise drew over the attention of the three men. They exchanged a silent look, and slowly, and rather intimidatingly, approached. You whined a little, at the throbbing pain that made a tremble run it’s course through your body.

One of the unfamiliar men pulled up a chair. “What d’ya know abou’ BCL-RED?” Was that an English or Australian accent? You couldn’t tell through the buzzing in your ears.

“Wha’?” You slurred, blinking rapidly, trying to orientate yourself. “BCL-what-now?” A grunt slipped past your lips. They didn’t look impressed by that answer. “I— I saw it on a file. Back in ‘84. Never figured out what it meant.”

The man learnt forwards. “Neva’ found out?”

Your head shook, and it made the pain increase. Your face scrunched up in agony. “Mm, no.” You groaned, breaths hitched. “It was all classified. Edgar never told me. Mallory and I— we tried to figure it out.”

“Grace Mallory?”

“What? Yes. Grace.” You groaned again. “Jesus. Can you turn off the fucking lights? It feels like there’s a drill in my head.” You tried to push your face into your shoulder, hiding from the light that made your eyes burn and your head feel like Ben was slamming it against the ground again.

There was a beat of silence. “Did you know?” That was Ben. He sounded hesitant.

“Know what?” You peeked up at Ben, eyes squinted to be able to look at him. He looked tense, face expressionless. “I thought you were dead. I don’t know what else to say to convince you. I thought you were dead.”

“How did you not know?” He demanded, his short fuse lit. Ben and his fucking temper.

“I don’t know, Ben!” Your own yell made you wince in pain. “They never told me shit! I tried for 15 years to get answers!”Ben didn’t look convinced. Of course he didn’t. He was so set in his heartbreak and rage, by your supposed betrayal, that he’d utterly convinced himself. “I didn’t know.” You echoed in a broken whisper.

“How’s ‘bout this?” You blinked rapidly, trying to focus in on the accented voice. “We track down the otha’ girl. See what she ‘as to say.” There seemed to be a group-wide agreement.

“Countess?” You grunted, confused. Your gaze flicked between the three men. “I know where she is.”

And that got their attention.

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[malewifebarnes]

guys is it slutty to say i wanna cook for him, kiss his forehead, pour him his liquor, light his cigarettes for him when he's tired and just be a light in his life

[tojigasm]

so in love with old man bf butcher. like u make fun of him for being an old man and he gets all huffy and rolls his eyes at u AHHH

"Y'so deep," you sob, words cut off by a pitched wine rolling up the back of your throat at an angled thrust.

"Yeah?" Butcher practically sneers from above you and you can hear the smirk in his voice. His bangs stick to his forehead and veins of his forearms bulge with ever movement he makes.

You nod, eyes fluttering shut.

"Yeah."

"Still think this old man can't give ya' what ya' need?"

Truthfully, you hadn't expected your own words to be thrown back at you – despite your obnoxious claim that 'he was too old to keep it up' was the whole reason the two of you were in this situation to begin with. You both knew there was no serious threat behind your words, you just wanted to rile him up.

His words send a shock of pleasure to your core and you instantly reach down to circle your clit only to have your wrist snatched away.

"Nuh uh." His eyes lid and he cocks his head to the side some, thrusting at a deeper angle.

You shake your head.

"Please–"

"Nope." He quiets you with a shake of his head, "you wanted to piss me off so yr'gonna take what I give you since you can't find it in yr'self to just tell daddy when y'miss him."

There's a layer of soft to his tone that makes your eyes tear up and legs go numb.

A whimper falls from your lips and Butcher moves to throw your leg over to rest in the crook of his elbow, opening you up.

You gasp at the sensation and the older man chuckles above you.

"Thaaats it. Right there, huh."

"Yes, daddy. Yes." You nod, lashes strewn together by the wet of your tears.

He gives you a particularly rough thrust that has your head falling back against his pillows and your toes curling.

"Hey," he's quick to slip a hand under the nape of your neck, tilting your head back forwards, "Eyes open, keep 'em on me."

The stretch of his cock rubbing against your gummy walls has your eyes fluttering closed and your legs shaking in Butcher's hold.

Butcher taps the plush of your thigh and you open your eyes in response, doing your best to make him proud under the intensity of it all.

"C'mon, love, ya'got it – There she is," he soothes, meeting your swollen lips in a gentle kiss as he ruts into you to the hilt.

The intimacy paired with the intensity of it all has you shivering and sobbing into his mouth, grabbing at any part of him that you can in hopes of grounding yourself.

"Butcher, please–" your voice breaks into a sob when he hikes your other leg over his shoulder and sinks his length to the base inside of you.

"Oh shit." Butcher groans, dropping his head to look at the way your cunt swallows his length whole.

Eyes rolling back and cunt quivering pathetically, you let out a broken gasp.

"I can't, oh my god."

Butcher doesn't shed any more time before he's thrusting into you so deep and at such a rough angle that you're nearly seeing stars.

"M'gonna cum," you manage, biting weakly at the skin of his forearm.

"Yr'okay, cum fr'me, dollface."

[delicates86]

I don’t think I’ve ever felt a stronger urge to motorboat a dilf😽

[cemeteryspider]

Obsessions

Short-Lived Queen Maeve x Homelander's Sibling! Reader

Warnings: Heavy Sibling x Sibling implications. HL is gross and has an odd obsession with himself which will be a part of the story a little bit going forward. There will be nothing explicit but for reference Reader-Insert is of age and I'm thinking mid-twenties and Homelander is a little bit older since I'm pretty sure his age is never stated in the show. If you are looking for a Homelander x Reader THIS IS NOT IT!!!

Summary: This was the day you decided that you were done being Homelander's pet, and wanted something more than the gilded cage he provided you. Based on the Marina and The Diamonds song Obsessions.

Trigger Warnings: Abuse, Violence, Sexual Content, Mental Health Issues, Controlling Relationships, Gross Sibling Relationship

Word Count: 1.9k

Sitting up in silk sheets, high up in Vought Tower looking out into the city somehow made you feel vulnerable. As if you couldn't fly or laser your way out of most situations that life threw at you. The rest could be solved with tight clothes and flashing your white teeth at the nearest camera or the person with the deepest pockets.

Still standing near the full glass window, you felt the cool glass pane under your fingertips, imagining the dizzying free-fall to the concrete below. Sometimes you fantasized about what hitting the ground would feel like, but mostly you stood far away from the window. Waiting for the day you weren’t scared to fall.

But like usual you walked into the bathroom and shoved your toothbrush around your mouth trying to get rid of the gross morning breath. This was the part of your life Vought and your brother tried so hard to scrub from the public's view. The part that made you feel human. Brushing the grossness from your mouth in the morning, picking at the skin around your fingernails, your bleeding and cracked lips from years of biting. All private, photoshopped, and covered in a thick layer of make-up.

When you inspected your face in the mirror you found tear tracks running down your face. Gently you wiped one with your finger and inspected it. Many things baffled you about being a superhero. Mostly it was the thought that you could give hope to so many people but you couldn't pull yourself out of your own despair. Still you rinse your mouth and splashed your face with freezing cold water, trying your hardest to clear your mind.

Then the door to your room clicked open as you stepped out of the bathroom. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, readying yourself for the day,”'Hey John, what are we doing today?"

You turned to see your older brother looking at you. He was already dressed in his suit. Some things never change after all, "Well a meeting with the rest of The Seven, training, a new movie we have to go over the details of and I don't know maybe we fly around and go get some dinner."

He always had your schedule memorized. You didn't even need to think about talking to Ashley because he was wholly concerned with where you were at all times. You used to be the same way. After all, the lab was so structured when you and he were there, and you were never far apart whether it be rooms separated only by a wall, which never did anything with the two of you having super hearing, or being burned alive together and watching the other regenerate one painful skin cell at a time.

Always together. Halves of the same coin. That's what they always told you and now what he tells you every chance he gets. Roughly, he grabs your arm and pulls you close, his breath hot against your face. This was his way of showing his power over you, and you didn’t show fear. You simply stared him down.

"I've gotta get dressed, John," You tried not to fight him. It always ended up worse when you tried to fight him.

He let you go and your feet hit the ground with a rough thump. You hadn't even noticed they weren't on the ground.

You changed into your suit, nearly identical to Homelander's in every way shape and form. Except you refused to have a cape on your suit. You didn't want to be like him in any way now but this was the only modification you were allowed to make without serious repercussions from your brother.

He was facing away from you but the fact he could turn, and that you could do nothing about it gave him power.

"Come on, sweetheart," He held his hand out for you to take and you did with an almost imperceptible sneer. He pulled you into a tight hug. You could hear him sniffing your hair while his hands found your waist.

You could feel tears welling in your eyes but you quickly blinked them away with one lingering thought. What a creep.

~~~

The conference room was not nearly any better than your room, that was except Maeve was on the other side of Homelander quietly looking over at you. Making eye contact was difficult with her because when you did, you were sure she was looking directly into your soul.

It wasn't that she knew what you were going through but that she could empathize with you. She was Homelander's girlfriend to the public after all. She was no stranger to the gross comments or too tight grips when you get close to saying something wrong or too personal.

You zoned out of the meeting. It was always the same thing with this group of complete idiots. You could feel The Deep's eyes on you, Noir was doing, well whatever he was doing, A-Train grew impatient next to you, Maeve tried to speak her opinion, while Homelander took over the conversation, and you sat there. Thinking.

Who would join you if you started fighting Homelander right now? Maeve, definitely. The Deep, would probably be too shocked to do anything. A-Train would probably be in that boat too, but may eventually step in to your aid. Noir might knock you out after one hit on him.

Another thought... Where would you go if you left? California, maybe, you always wanted to learn how to surf. Ireland, the rain might suit you well. Antarctica would be ideal. You doubt he would look for you there. A small smile crossed your lips and you thought about living in a romanticized version of Antarctica. An igloo perhaps. You would befriend penguins and do absolutely nothing. See no one, no cameras, no fake saves, just you and the endless snow, white in all directions like a visual static.

"...What do you think about that, Y/n?" The Homelander looked at you expectantly. You had no clue what any of this was pertaining to, just that Maeve was smiling and nodding her head.

"Absolutely, I agree and I can't wait." You gave the most generic answer you could muster along with a fake smile.

He smiled back, seemingly satisfied with the response you gave, "Starlight is going to be here tomorrow and you all will be on your best behavior. Make her feel welcome if you see her, we will have another meeting the day after tomorrow to introduce her to the team."

He stood up and clapped his hands, "Alright let's go, save the world people."

You got up trying your best to get out before, "Y/n... a minute please," his smile was that of a predator waiting for its prey to stop and smell the flowers.

"I'll catch up Maeve," She shot you a worried look but you waved her off, you would find her soon enough.

Once the room was vacated his smile snapped off his face, and he quickly stalked his way over to you, "Are you trying to embarass me in front of the team."

His hand found its way around your throat and squeezed, "I mean you're off in your own little dream world. Doing what exactly, you have everything. Adoring fans, a stylist at your beck and call, anyone you want at your fingertips, and most of all you have me."

Then his grip loosened and he looked sad. A wolf in sheep's clothing you had to say, "Is this not enough for you. Am I..."

You kicked him hard and he stumbled back as he landed on the ground, "Get off of me, John. Get a grip."

You nearly ran out of the room when Ashley opened it, clearly not aware of the unscheduled sibling meeting going on in the room.

~~~

"I think this should be a story about love persevering," John said extravagantly talking to the writers after taking his time to cool down, "Maybe a fight against an evil set of twins trying to I don't know this seems like a job for the two of you."

He gestured to the writers and they started jotting down ideas on their notepads, sometimes exchanging ideas with each other and writing some more. You were just staring at the wall across from you thinking about how easy it would be to laser a hole in it.

"I was also thinking," He drew the attention back to him, "Maybe I could save, Y/n, you know carry them off into the sunset."

Your eye twitched and you saw the writers glancing nervously at each other out of the corner of your eye.

"Well, sir, that's a bit..."

"Well you know..."

"What? Kind of what?" John asked and you could almost feel the heat rolling off of him.

"Creepy, John. It's creepy." You said glaring up at him from your seat on Ashley's leather couch.

He scoffed a little, "Well that's not the way I meant it."

"No John, all you ever think about is sick ideas involving me and you, and I'm sick of this!" You gestured around the room as the writers were sneaking out of the room. Ashley came between the two of you.

"Okay, I'm sure he did not mean it in that way. Why don't we cool down and come back to this script later, okay?" She was stepping on eggshells, and you knew you couldn't get her involved in this.

You may not like each other, but there was a tentative sort of mutual respect between the two of you. So you left. The two of you were making her nervous and you couldn't let her get hurt in whatever storm was brewing between you and your brother.

~~~

You didn't feel like doing anything for the rest of the day so you just went back up to your bedroom and laid on the bed staring at the ceiling. You played your favorite game, pretending that you didn't exist and you were just a particle floating in your room. Observing the world impartially and without any thought in particular.

That was until Maeve found you, unmoving. Just staring a hole into your ceiling. So she sat you up and shoved a water bottle to your lips and told you to drink. It was filled with Vodka, which you happily accepted. By no means were the two of you drunk, but it may have played a part in the following actions.

One minute you were talking about how stupid The Deep's facial hair was, the next her lips were on yours, and then you didn't have clothes on. It was a fast progression but not an unenjoyable one. You couldn't remember the last time you had felt so comfortable with a person, but then you realized it was never. You were a science experiment. Tested on with no remorse and shoved into playing the part of the hero.

So you savored each moment her lips were on you. Every time her tongue entered your mouth. Every touch she gave you. Every hair pull and every ounce of pleasure you tried to engrain in your memory.

The next morning when you slid yourself out of Maeve's arms and towards the window you didn't think of falling, but instead you thought of flying far far away from here. Even better taking down Homelander and spitting in his eye.

This was your second wind or maybe it was your third wind by now but that didn't matter. You had a purpose, and you had every intention of living up to it.

[burntsaltsblog]

rewatching the boys from the beginning cuz season 1 butcher hits so good😩

[ml080504]

somebody: what do you like about men twice your age?

me: where do i start?