#Hughie Campbell x you

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐀 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐲 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

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

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

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

↳ song: rock me like a hurricane—scorpions

masterlist | commissions | carrd

𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐮𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫

• He has mixed feelings about you

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

• “You first, Butcher.”

𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐢𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞

• He fucks with you so hard

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

• “Shut up.”

𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐤

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

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

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

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

• “Same shirt!! Hell yeah.”

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

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

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

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

• “Just one swing I swear—“

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

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

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

• “No.”

𝐊𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐨

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

• “Goddamnit!—“

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

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

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬: 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[cainsau]

A Game of Updog || The Boys Imagine

(Platonic) Soldier Boy x GN!Reader Featuring: Butcher, Hughie

Summary: Set in S3E7. The car ride to Mindstorm is too quiet for your liking. You decide to spice things up by trying out the updog trick on good ol' Soldier Boy.

Warning: None, just silly stuff

"Do you smell that?"

Soldier Boy, who's sitting next to you in the passenger seat, looks at you weird and starts smelling the car, "What?"

Hughie does the same in the front seat, "I don't smell anything."

"Really? 'Cause it smells a lot like updog in here."

Hughie manages to keep himself from smiling, not that you can see it, but he knows exactly what you're trying to do and will not mess it up for you. Soldier Boy, on the other hand, squints at you in confusion, "What's-"

"Oh, for fuck's sake." Butcher interrupts, also aware of your trick, and is trying to stop it. "We are NOT on a fucking road trip to the Dolomites. Can i just have a tiny bit of peace while i'm driving?"

Soldier Boy raises his eyebrows at Butcher. He seemed fine with you and Soldier Boy talking just an hour ago.

"Sorry," you tell him, "It's just... i'm bored, and the car smells like updog."

There it is again, the word he doesn't understand. Hughie was kind enough to explain new words like bluetooth and internet, so maybe this is another new thing... or it's a sensitive topic to Butcher, judging by how aggressively he reacted. Soldier Boy opens his mouth to speak, but Butcher beat him to it again.

"Fine!" Butcher rolls his eyes, "If you can't shut up, why don't we talk about Mindstorm, hm?"

"Okay." You sigh, leaning back into your seat, then turns to face Soldier Boy. "Do tell us about him."

"Well, he can read your mind." He says, matter-of-factly.

You look at him, waiting for him to continue, but he doesn't say anything else. "Is that it?" You ask.

"What, don't you know him?"

"Nope," You shake your head, "I don't know much about him, or you, or any of Payback to be honest."

Soldier Boy seems surprised. He thought that his former team was popular. Perhaps the times have changed and the younger people are no longer taught about the predecessors of The Seven.

"Oh, but it's because i used to be indifferent about these things, not because you're not famous." You assure him. "You heard it yourself, the things Homelander say about you."

"Right. Anyway," He shrugs it off, "Mindstorm can get inside your head too, so don't look him in the eye."

"Where am i supposed to look, then?"

"Anywhere but his eyes." He answers with a cheeky smile.

"Okay."

"And he's also kinda strong."

"Is he as strong as updog?"

"What's updog?"

"I don't know, what's up with you?"

Finally! The moment you've been waiting for! Your eyes sparkle with delight as you grin from ear to ear, celebrating the success of your little game.

Soldier Boy only stares at you, eyes furrowed and speechless, trying to process what just happened. Hughie is looking outside the window, failing to hide a little laughter. Next to him, Butcher groans loudly, mumbling curses under his breath.

[bratdotcom]

MANICURE !

( Hughie Campbell + Billy Butcher x reader || hcs abt a reader who loves doing their nails ♡ )

Hughie - willing to learn how to paint your nails, always carries hand sanitizer on him (when he can), holds your hand when you cross the street together 'just to be safe'

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵♡︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Hughie tries his best to hold your hand steady, his own wobbling slightly as he tries to hold the nail polish brush properly. "Hold...hold still." He cautions, sounding more like he was telling that to himself rather than to you.

Hughie holds his breath, swiftly swiping down the nail polish brush onto your fingernail, barely missing your cuticle. He lets out a sigh of relief when he finishes painting the sides.

You try to hold in a chuckle as you watch the look on his face change when he realizes he has nine more to go.

Butcher - compliments your nails, offers to open soda cans for you (so you don't chip em), admires the way your hands look around his bicep when you hold onto him, wonders if you buy certain colors of nail polish to distract him on purpose

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵♡︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Butcher drinks his tea quietly, boots propped up on the coffee table. He notices the new set of colors on your nails through glances in his vision, most of his attention drawn to the screen.

It wasn't often you both got to rest. You were nice enough to make him some tea, surprisingly you didn't ask him for anything back.

That was until he looks in the corner of his eye, seeing you holding up a can of soda expectantly in his direction, looking up at him with the tilt of your head like some loved up puppy.

You didn't even need to ask.

His eyes softened at the way you looked at him. Pretending to grumble over the fact that you were interrupting his TV time, he sets down his tea. "Yer spoiled, you know that?" He says, already taking the can from you and popping it open. He hands it back to you, using his bicep to pull you closer to him by the shoulder.

[murdockcastleslut]

Could you do anything from the 1st prompt list for Hughie?

im gonna do the "did you eat today?" prompt bc comfort! prompts and characters are here :)

you were having a shit day, you woke up late, didnt have time to eat breakfast let alone get coffee and to top all off, butcher was being as he would say "a cunt" and had blown the mission on neuman.

so when you arrived to your shared apartment with hughie before he had arrived you were kind of disappointed.

you threw you jacket on one of the island chairs and slumped down on the couch. you quickly fell asleep not even five minutes later..

hughie walks in no more than half an hour after you. he notices that most of the lights are still of and your jacket is on one of the seats on the island. he places the bag of chinese food that he bough on the island before he walks over to the living room.

he sees you snuggled up with a couch pillow and doesn't want to wake you but he knows after the long day you've had food would make you feel better.

so he gently shakes you awake. when you slowly open yours confused and see his face you smile.

"hey babe." you cooed.

"hi baby, i bought so food from the chinese place down the street, want some?" he questions.

at the mention of food your stomach gurgles in hunger. you quickly and groggily scramble to your feet and look for the food. you see it on the island and take the chair you jacket sits on.

you move your jacket and break open the bag to find hughie bough your favorite. as you start to crack it open hughie finds his way to you and sits in the chair besids you.

"did you eat today?" he questions

you shake you head no as you grab a fork and dig in. he chuckles and kiss your forehead.

"i thought we talked about this, you gotta eat." he pleads.

"i know. i know but i was late, and the we were working, and then butcher fucking fucked up the mission. came home and fell asleep." you explained after scarfing down some food.

he nods understandingly.

"alright well i'm glad you're eating now, you want some water?" he questions.

"with ice please." you nod.

he nods before he gets up and grabs both of you glasses of water. then he places the cup next you and sat besides you befor eopening his own food.

once you slowed down, you wiped you mouth before planting a kiss on hughie's cheek.

"thank you for taking care of me baby." you smiles.

he returns you smile with a shy grin on his face.

"always."

[multi-fandom-imagine]

➤𝗖𝗼𝗰𝗸 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗛𝘂𝗴𝗵𝗶𝗲 𝗖𝗮𝗺𝗽𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗹

A/n: Season 4 has never happened...season 4 does not exist.

It's not like you meant for this to happen, one moment you were cleaning the mans wounds after a job went side ways then the next thing you knew you were riding Hughies brains out.

Yes you two were dating.

Yes you've both been intimate before but this was different.

This was you two finally releasing tension after months of not touching each other.

It started out by some light caresses, you slowly rubbing yourself against his hips as you kissed his cheek gently. You were being a good partner after all, he almost died so you wanted to show him how much you cared.

And then he moaned, his fingers digging into your hips as he thrusted his hips up. You felt how hard he was through his pants and it felt so good to rub against him more. Hughie guiding your hips as you started to hump his bulge.

It did not take long for your shorts to be gone, Highie's pants at his hips as he finally slipped himself into your warmth. Then you were seeing stars and all it took was a particular thrust from his hips, his hands slamming you down on his cock. A whimper of your name that had you arching your back, eyes closing tightly as you grabbed a fist full of his shirt.

You did your best to let yourself recover from your orgasm, your body slumped against him as you felt his fingers run down your back, cock still within you.

You both were doing your best to catch your breath as he let his thumb glide across your cheek. "Are you alright?"

Giving him a tired yet satisfied smile, you gave the man a lazy kiss. "I'm fantastic."

[sunr1seblvd]

thinking about patching up hughie campbell and him kissing you notes: typical canon violence i think??, probably ooc but idc, wc: 230 a/n: hi everyone this is my first time writing fanfic, like, ever, so please lmk how i do <33

you drug hughie through the entrance of your one bed apartment and locked the door behind you. you sat him down on one of your mismatched bar stools.

"jesus, your face, hughie...what happened?"

"well, butcher and i had to go and find this guy, and...," hughie trailed off and slumped back, his wounds making him want to sleep for a little while.

"nuh uh. hughie, wake up." you went behind the counter and grabbing some rubbing alcohol and your first aid kit. sat in between hughie legs to clean his face, he tensed up.

"hey, thanks by the way, for, uh, patching me up, by the way."

you smiled shyly. "no problem. plus, knowing butcher, he'd probably tell you to just walk it off, and i care about you too much for that."

hughie studied your face as you worked on bandaging his wounds. once you made eye contact with him, he kissed you.

you pulled back first with a confused but delighted look on your face.

hughie on the other hand...

"i'm so so sorry ohmygod i definitely should not have done that"

"hughie-"

"i'll leave once your done with me, again im so sorr-"

"hughie!"

"do you want me to leave right now 'cause i can leave-"

you grabbed the scruff of his shirt and kissed him back.

his face went from confusion to happiness. "oh."

yeah, oh.

[wierdblavk-girl]

𝓗𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓲𝓮 𝓒𝓪𝓶𝓹𝓫𝓮𝓵𝓵

ᴺᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳᵉ ʸᵉᵗ

[stranger-nightmare]

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 | 𝐏𝐞𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐢𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥

requested by my lief

A/N: we’re taking Queen Maeve’s comment about Hughie’s energy just screaming ‘raw dog me, I’m a bottom’ and were rolling with it besties, enjoy!!

“Aw, my poor baby,” you coo mockingly. “Rough day at work?”

Hughie just nods silently, his head shifting where it was buried in your lap. You hum gently and stroke his hair.

“You want me to take care of you, hmm?” You ask invitingly, knowing exactly what it was he wanted; what he needed.

He looks up your with his puppy-dog eyes, nodding again and murmuring a soft ‘please’ against your stomach. You stroke his face again and lean down to place a gentle kiss on his forehead.

“Okay baby,” you whisper, “why don’t you go get ready for me on the bed, yeah? And I’ll go get dressed.”

Hughie nods again before quickly getting up and padding his way over to the bedroom. You follow suit quickly after. Hughie strips immediately and moves to climb onto the bed, situating himself on all fours, his ass facing towards you as he looks back at you with need etched on his face. You smirk to yourself as you grab the strap and harness from the bottom of the cupboard, quickly shedding yourself of your own clothes and equipping yourself with the black harness and purple strap-on. You quickly spread some lube onto the dildo before making your way over to where Hughie was waiting for you.

“Hmm, that’s a good boy,” you hum as you reach the edge of the be.

You continue to hum gently, soothing and reassuring Hughie as you caress his hips gently, pulling him back so that he was lined up with your hips where you stood at the base of the bed.

“You ready baby?” You ask gently as you rub the tip of the dildo between his cheeks.

“Yes, please. Please. Need you,” Hughie mumbles pathetically, pushing his hips back against your strap.

“Don’t worry babyboy, I’m gonna take good care of you,” you coo as you slowly start to push into him.

Hughie whimpers and mewls, his arms giving way as he collapses onto the mattress, his ass lifting even higher as you start to fuck into him. You smirk to yourself lightly as you look at him, a whimpering and fucked-out mess already, and you’d barely even begun. You were going to fuck the living daylights out of this boy. This man who was willing to stand against Homelander despite being only mortal himself. This man who knew no fear when it came to protecting those he loves.

And he was a complete wreck under your touch.

If only the boys could see Petite Hughie now...

Main Masterlist // Kinktober 2022 Masterlist

[abodyfromthebalcony]

Small one shot where the reader is a tattoo artist and is giving hughie a tattoo (its billy joel themed ofc)

Pairing: Hughie Campbell x Reader  Wordcount: 400 words     A/N: Tiny short baby one shot while i get used to writing again rbs and comments are really appreciated!

A tattoo design that says “second wind” placed on Hughies upper forearm. 

You’ve had this design in your mind since you got to know hughie. You’ve been bothering Hughie to let you tattoo him for a while now, even before you started dating and he has finally caved in. Something about you, made it very hard for him to say no.

You pay attention to every nuance to every line you draw with the tattoo machine. You want to make sure it’s perfect for him. It's turning out really well. When you drew it up you wanted to make sure it was perfect for him, the wrong font choice or placement could make it look really out of place on Hughie but you made sure this was perfect.

You’re now an hour into tattooing him and he’s struggling to keep still at this point. You get the sense that for the first 40 minutes he was trying to keep it really cool to impress you but he can’t keep still anymore. 

“I'm almost done, you just have to be still for like 2 minutes.” 

“Really?”  Hughie says through panting breaths 

“Uh, yeah.” You say lying. It’s going to take at least 10 more minutes. “But hey, Kimiko broke your arm once, this is nothing!” You put a reassuring hand on his arm to keep him steady.

“Ok thanks, I love you” 

“What?!” You laugh pulling the tattoo machine away 

“No! No! Please forget I said anything, please just finish the tattoo!”

“Ok, ok.” You say smiling. 

You do the rest of the tattoo with a smile on your face. 

“All done!” you say doing a final wipe. He lets out a sigh of relief in response. “I’ll wrap you up and you’ll be good to go!”

“Looks really good” hughie flex’s his arm in the mirror.

“You wear it well” you chuckle. You take out a lollipop from a tin box you keep beside your tool kit “here you go, for doing so well.”

“Love you too.” you mutter under your breath as you hand the lollipop to him.

“What?”

“Nothing!” you say rolling your eyes. 

Hughie smiles “I love you too.”

“Does that chair have uh, any other uses?” he says

“Are you trying to ask if we can have sex on the tattoo chair?”

“Um, yes, yes I am.”

“Yes, uh, yes I think we can do that.” you chuckle

[amazingmaeve]

hughie campbell back to the boys masterlist

A MESSAGE —

⚔️ currently I don't write for any ships but when I do I'll tell you guys which ships.

⚔️ also I do my best to write all the readers /ocs so that anyone can relate but if you want me to write a story with the reader being POC just tell me when you request!

⚔️ also some of these fics will be dark since they involve homelander who as we know is a very dark character. so ill be putting warnings for those don't worry.

⚔️ feel free to request for hughie campbell!

🌧️ = angst | 🤍 = fluff | 💋 = smut | ♟️ = dark

[happy74827]

A Smile From Hell

[Homelander x Female!Reader]

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

WC: 3576

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

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

『••✎••』

John fucking terrified you.

He terrified everyone, really.

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

But, the thing was...

You knew everything about him. Everything.

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

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

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

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

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

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

How are you allowed to live?

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

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

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

Not his stage name, his real name.

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

A little bit of understanding.

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

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

"What?"

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

She snorted.

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

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

She narrowed her eyes at you, her suspicion rising.

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

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

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

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

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

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

She rolled her eyes at you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Relief, almost.

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

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

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

You had a similar history but different outcomes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Except for one.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Don't," he said.

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

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

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

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

He was a volcano, ready to erupt.

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

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

"Really?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And why do you care?"

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

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

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

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

He knew exactly what he was doing.

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

The name.

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

He could've killed you.

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

He didn't, though.

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

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

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

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

"Let’s have a chat."

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

You were so done.

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

You didn’t, though.

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

But, for some reason, your death never came.

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

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

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

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

"Aren't you going to ask?"

Ask what? What was there to ask?

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

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

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

"Are you going to kill me?"

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

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

"No."

Simple and clear.

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

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

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

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

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

It felt like they were reaching deep into your soul.

It was terrifying. He was terrifying.

"Do you remember your parents?"

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

"Yes. Why?"

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

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

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

Of all people, he chose to tell you.

You didn’t know how to feel about that.

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

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

Why?

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

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

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

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

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

"Understatement of the year."

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

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

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

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

It was a mockery—a complete joke.

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

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

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

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

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

You could tell.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The action did not go unnoticed.

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

You shrugged. "I've just never…"

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

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

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

The symbol, the image, the mask.

The facade.

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

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

Normal.

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

But you couldn't.

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

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

A smile.

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

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

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

You found him amusing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Capable.

That's what it was.

He was capable.

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

He was capable.

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

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

Again, a smile.

The smile.

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

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

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

A demon that was capable.

[cainsau]

Pitch Black Therapy || The Boys Imagine

(Platonic) Hughie Campbell x Supe!GN!Reader

Summary: After escaping the asylum, the boys went on their respective missions, leaving you, Lamplighter, and Hughie in Mallory's safehouse. Hughie gets curious about you and your power.

You were told to stay in Mallory's house with Lamplighter and Hughie while the others went on their errands. It was a strange situation, considering that you and Lamplighter used to be on opposite sides in the asylum. He never harmed you specifically, but you could hear all the screams and crackling of fire whenever he had to burn someone, which made your headaches worse back when you were stuck in the cell with those bright lights. You would often glare at him, but he couldn't tell, because you always had a pair of sunglasses on ever since the escape.

If glaring at him felt good, it felt even better to not see him at all, so you made yourself comfortable in the kitchen for a while, until Hughie came.

"Hi." He said with a smile. "Not sure if i've officially introduced myself before, but i'm Hughie."

"Oh, hey," You reached out a hand towards him, offering a handshake, "I'm [Y/N]."

At first, he was taken aback by your normality. Whenever he introduced himself, it usually brought out a hostile reaction for some reason. He was just trying to be nice, but people didn't seem to like it, and now finally someone appreciated it.

You both sat on the kitchen stools in silence while you drank a can of soda, only accompanied by muffled voices of the TV in the other room.

He glanced curiously at you a few times, and finally gave in. "Hey, uh, you always wear those sunglasses. Are they, like, your trademark style or is there something… else going on?"

You chuckled, almost choking on your drink, "Man, i wish it was a style choice. But no, it's a side effect, i suppose. Everything's too bright for me."

"Sounds terrible." He grimaced. "What kind of power do you have that does that? Is it, like, night vision or something?"

"I do have night vision, but my power is... well," You paused for a moment, trying your best to find the correct words, "I can blind people."

"Blind people? Turning people blind?"

"Pretty much." You finished your drink, and threw the can towards the trash bin, but missed. "I can generate darkness and submerge people in it, causing them to not be able to see anything." You walked over and picked up the can, dropping it into the bin. "It also works on cameras and stuff."

"Whoa. That's cool... but scary, but... cool."

You then turned around to face him. "Do you want to see?"

"I think the question should be: do i want to 'not' see?" He joked, which earned a small laugh from you. "That seems horrifying, to be honest."

"You know, actually, i heard that there's people who pay to experience having all sensory inputs removed. They say it's therapeutic." You said, pretending to try to convince him as you returned to your seat. "You don't wanna try some pitch black therapy? Free of charge."

He shook his head dramatically, "Nope, no way."

"Alright, alright." You put both hands up, a playful gesture of backing down. "But seriously though, i think you should try once, so that you're not too shocked if i have to use it in the field later."

He thought about it for a moment, it actually made sense. "You're probably right."

"Great! I'll go for five seconds, how does that sound?" You clasped your hands together, ready to start.

"Woah, hold on, you seem way too excited about this." He chuckled.

"What can i say? I'm new to this too."

"Right." He nodded. "Five seconds is enough, i think."

"Okay, on three. One. Two. Three." You released your hands, and a pitch black substance appeared from between them, expanding instantly until it engulfed the whole room.

One second in. Hughie jumped a bit in his seat, frantically looking around for any source of light. Two seconds. You could see him panicking a little. Three. He brought his hands right in front of his eyes and waved it, but he could see nothing. Four. He put his hands back on the kitchen counter, relieved that it was still there. Five. The room turned back normal.

He seemed a bit disoriented, suddenly being able to see again.

"You alright?" You asked, feeling a little bad.

"Yeah, no, it's just... i thought it would be a regular kind of darkness, where i could still see a little bit of movement or something, y'know? But i couldn't see anything at all. Like, if i had to experience that for the first time while we're out there? I'd probably get a heart attack or something."

"Yeah..." You smiled apologetically. "Sorry."

"No, it's fine, you were right, and that was pretty awesome. Not therapeutic at all though."

You gave a small laugh, which Hughie returned.

[bratdotcom]

Big Shot

( Hughie Campbell x reader || helping your boyfriend out, established relationship, teasing ♡ )

Hughie hastily looks around his room, fresh out of the shower, curls still damp and clinging tightly to his head. His eyes narrow as he continues his search, his hastiness makes you peek over the top of your magazine.

“Where..where is it?” he murmurs, ransacking his own drawers to look for whatever he's searching for.

Nose now fully out of your magazine, you look over at your boyfriend. "What're you lookin' for, Hughie?" you ask, watching as he begins throwing- more like tossing various shirts onto the floor. "A shirt- my Billy Joel shirt." he replies, still searching. Which didn't really help you imagine exactly which shirt he was looking for. He had too many Billy Joel shirts to count. You weren't complaining about it, though.

Deciding to help, you set your magazine off to the side. "Which one?" you ask, getting up from his bed.

Hughie stands there, clad in nothing but the towel that draped against his waist and the small drops of water that accompanied them. You were in his shirt. The Billy Joel shirt he was tearing his own room apart for.

He tilts his head to the side in disbelief. "You coulda at least told me." he says, looking down at the shirt, his shirt you were wearing. He didn't sound mad, not even in the slightest.

You look down at his shirt as if you weren't the one who put it on this morning. "Oh, this?" You pretend to notice that you're wearing one of his shirts just now, pulling it down a bit to properly show him the graphic on it. "I found it in that pile of shirts you never wear. You really need to clean that up, babe." You say, enunciating your tone when you call him the pet name.

You knew how the man worked. Inside and out. A simple pet name was enough to make his heart flutter.

Hughie eyes said pile of band tees, you weren't wrong. You didn't look bad in one of his shirts either. Hell, you looked great.

He looks back at you, tips of his ears reddening slightly. "You.. you look good in that." he comments quietly, finger and thumb sheepishly rubbing together. He was falling in love with you all over again just because you were wearing one of his shirts.

You try to hide your smile at his words.

"What did you say, Hughie?" You ask on purpose, just to hear him say it again. Hearing the shyness in his voice made you melt. It was like he was complimenting you for the first time ever in his life.

As if you haven't been dating him for months.

Realizing that you're making him repeat his words on purpose, Hughie clears his throat, making eye contact with you. "I-I said you look nice." He repeats, cringing slightly at the sound of his own stutter. "You look really good in my shirt." He adds, eyes flitting from your face to the way the article of clothing fits your body. It was loose, but not too loose. The perfect boyfriend fit. In his opinion, at least.

You smile even more at him. "Enough to let me keep it?" You ask playfully, making Hughie crack a smile himself. He shakes his head with the same air of playfulness you have.

"Maybe." He replies.

"What do ya mean, maybe?" You laugh a bit more, grabbing the clothes Hughie threw carelessly onto the ground. "Maybe." He repeats without elaborating further, helping clean up his own mess as well.

As a good boyfriend should.

[murdockcastleslut]

Hiya! Would you be willing to write some Hughie Campbell fluff where he gives you a back massage after a long stressful day??

hi nonny thank you for sending this request in and sorry it's taken a second but here it goes | request info here!

it was one of those rare days where hughie wasn't running around new york with the boys and you had a long day at the starlight house.

most people would like it would be weird with you working with your boyfriend's ex-girlfriend but you and annie got along very well and the two of them ending their relationship mutually helped.

but what came with working with working with the ex-member of the seven who opposed the new seven and homelander was the media and getting people support and getting her message out there, which meant long hours over meetings whilst listening to the protests outside of the starlight house.

so finding you boyfriend cooking and listening to billy joel brought so much joy to your heart.

"honey, you're home!" he smiles when he sees you walk from the hall. he abandons the veggies he was chopping and pulls you into a hug.

"hi hughie." you smiled your day washing off you the second his arms wrapped around you.

"i missed you," he says after pecking you lips. "come, take your stuff off and get comfy and i'll pour you a glass of wine.

"that sounds perfect." you smiled. you go to your shared bedroom and get comftable. you changed and when you came out of the room, hughie greets you with a glass of wine.

"mmm thank you baby." you kissed him before taking the glass rom his hand.

"of course. how was work?" he asks holding you from behind.

"oh just awful, there were like 3 meetings to day back to back," you explain and his hands move your shoulders slowly rubbing the knots in your shoulders. "and when i finally was able to leave for lunch, the fucking homelander brigade wouldn't stop shouting at me because i was a starlighter. i just wanted a burritio."

hughie listens to you explain your day and he continuously trying to massage your shoulders trying to relieve the tension that had built up over the last few hours.

[nobitchs-world]

I WANNA BE SAVEDDD

[sunr1seblvd]

rewatching s2 of the boys and wanting to go on a drive w/ hughie campbell 🙂‍↕️ notes: why is writing so hard?!, again probably occ but idrc, bestfriend!hughie, wc: 400

you're not really sure how your life ended up like this.

from the past couple of months, you've learned that:

a. that vought is a vile company. b. all of your childhood heroes are vile people. c. learned that said childhood heroes weren't born with their powers but were drugged up as babies.

so ever since you're life turned upside down that night when billy butcher crashed his car in your job, safe to say life's been a bit...chaotic.

m.m. was sat in the back of the van next to butcher, both asleep. behind the front seats were frenchie and kimiko, dozing off with frenchie snoring slightly.

so now it was just you and hughie, your best friend, driving in the middle of vermont going back to the city. the sun had set, so the only illumination there was the moon. vienna by billy joel was playing softly on the stereo (any louder and m.m. and butcher would start to complain....).

"hey. you awake?" hughie asked while steering.

maybe it was just the exhaustion in you body from all the recent fighting or the light from the moon, but when you looked at him, he looked ethereal.

"don't worry. i got you," you replied while sitting up in the passenger's seat. "how much longer until we get back?"

"at least not for another hour and a half, i think? do you think butcher get mad if i just stopped to go and sleep for, like, 20 minutes? my eyes are killing me."

you chuckled. "realistically? he needs you alive and well. other the other hand...," you said as you checked back to see if he was still sleep.

hughie tried to stifle a snicker. "well, would you like to take over?" he asked while turning a corner.

"you and i both know that that's not a good idea. remember our 10th grade driving class? it took me three tries to pass that driving test!"

he looked over at you and smiled. "yup, and when you crashed mr. scott's car into that fire hydrant...twice."

you gave him a faux look of hurt. "it was so not my fault. him sneezing made me back into the fire hydrant!"

you and him broke into quiet laughter, being mindful of the others. you missed when you could joke like this. no pressure, no impending threat from any corrupt supes. just you and him.